Aldrich stood quickly and walked around Luke's body, closer to the wall. "I wonder what will make you break?" he asked, reaching out as if to touch her cheek. His hand stopped just shy of the invisible line, not crossing into the UV radiation currently burning into Kira's skin, filling her with hope and strength. She might be trapped, but it was a cage that Aldrich couldn’t break into.
She remained silent, not giving in to his taunt.
"You know," he said, drawing his hand back. His eyes lost focus as his brain sifted back, bringing up a memory. "I knew what was happening the moment you let me go. I saw the fight in your eyes, the battle raging inside your veins, I could feel the shadows flood your heart. I knew in that moment, that no matter what happened, I had won. Because there is no going back, Kira. Once you've tasted the darkness, there is no stopping it."
"But there is," she said quietly, not really believing it herself.
"What? Are you talking about Tristan? Yes, yes, I've heard all about how you saved him," he drawled. "I'm afraid it's all anyone can talk about. I'm rather sick of it, to be honest."
"Because you lost that battle," Kira said, smug, letting a grin curl her lips.
Aldrich's eyes flashed, his crackled flesh tensed up. "What battle? Tristan is a fool who fell in love with a girl who could never love him back."
Kira's hand shook. Fire pressed against her palms, aching to be let out, but she held it steady, letting her powers bubble up and strengthen, waiting for the right time. "That's not true."
"It’s not? Then where is he? Why is Luke our special guest and not Tristan?"
"I loved him enough to let him go, something you'll never understand."
"Such sentimental drivel," Aldrich said, chuckling to himself. "You still don't understand, Kira. I tried to tell you before, but you just don’t understand."
"By all means, enlighten me." Kira crossed her arms, trying to keep the conversation going as long as possible. In the back of her mind, Kira was just waiting for the right moment to strike. Because he would falter, he would lose control, and the moment he did, Kira would attack. She had to. There was no other way for this to end. There never was.
"You're a realist, Kira." He sighed and Kira rolled her eyes. Not this again, she thought.
"So what?"
"Realists can't choose love, they don't know how. Love is for the believers, love is the ultimate faith—that invisible idea people will build their lives on. But a realist just doesn't understand that—they need the facts, the logic—they can’t take the leap. They don't know how to put love first."
"While I'm really enjoying the psychobabble, can you just get to the point?" Kira asked.
"The point is that I know you will fight me because if you don’t, I will kill this boy." He stepped closer, his voice deepening. "The point is that I know you will fall because as much as you say you are in love, you don't really know how to believe in love." He looked at her, his eyes turning black, his burnt face glowing in triumph. "The point is, I will win and you will lose, as much as you tell yourself differently."
Kira leapt forward, rage pushing her movements. Fire flew from her hands, surging toward Aldrich in a wave of crushing heat. He was wrong. Kira had loved Tristan and she loved Luke now, and no one would use fancy words to try to take that away. She wasn't some unfeeling robot. She wasn't.
And Kira would show Aldrich just how wrong he was.
But as soon as Kira crossed the line, her fire wavered, losing its heat and the darkness crept forward, breaking through her skin, pushing the teeth back out, spreading a numbing cold throughout her body.
Her anger rolled away, replaced by a deep hunger she had yet to give into. Luke's blood surged into her thoughts.
She wanted it.
She wanted one taste. Just one.
No!
Kira threw herself backward, back into her prison, and fire surged through her body. She panted and let the flames take over, let them chase the shadows away, another temporary fix, but a fix nonetheless.
The blood pounding in her ears began to slow.
A high-pitched squeal replaced it, flooding her senses, and clapping hands brought a surge of hatred back into her heart.
Slowly, Kira stood and turned around, meeting Aldrich's smirk with a glare. That didn’t prove anything, no matter what he said.
But he didn't try to speak—his eyes did the talking for him. Hot white with barely a hint of blue, they were practically alight with his excitement. Aldrich thought he was winning.
And in the back of her mind, Kira agreed.
To her right, the passenger side door of the car broke off, screeching loudly. Kira couldn't help but stare as it scraped along the ground in her direction, lifting up over her head to land behind her, just inside of the wall.
Her gaze raced back to Aldrich, to his wide, victorious eyes.
The metal behind her crunched, bending in on itself, making a semicircular cocoon.
Kira's heart began to race. There was nowhere she could run. She was trapped.
The scuffle of metal on concrete sent fear into her heart—it was getting louder, closer, until a coolness stung her arm.
She was being pushed forward. The door had her trapped, and all Kira could stare at was the almost invisible line of the wall, the slight quiver of heat that showed where the blast of UV ended.
The spot expanded, growing larger until it took up her entire line of vision.
Kira tried to reach for her back pocket, for the knife she had kept hidden, but the metal was too close, was closing in on her, trapping her.
And then the hunger lurched in her stomach, a craving for the conduit blood resting just a few feet away, waiting for her.
Digging her feet in the ground, Kira tried to resist. But she couldn’t fight it—none of it.
Luke's finger twitched. He was waking up.
Waking up just in time to feel Kira's bite.
But then the door dropped to the ground, clanging loudly, stopping Kira millimeters from the edge of the wall.
"It would be so easy," Aldrich said slowly, "but I want to see you break yourself."
Luke moaned and rolled to the side. His eyes remained shut. His body stilled. It was almost as if he was reminding Kira that he was still there, still alive, still worth fighting for.
She stepped back into the fire, her mind running on overdrive.
It was time.
She whimpered.
Kira wasn't ready to say goodbye.
Not to life and not to Luke.
But Aldrich was right. She was a realist. She would fall. She couldn’t make that leap. She had tried giving up her Punisher powers and it had failed, because some part of her really didn’t believe that happiness was in her future, really didn't believe that love would cure everything, really didn’t believe that her life could be one dream come true.
The moment she was born, she had been doomed. Her life wasn't a fairytale. It was a nightmare. She was a force of destruction, a killing machine, death to any vampire who dared cross her path.
And the last thing she would do on this earth was destroy this man who had taken so much away from her.
Aldrich stepped back, kneeling over Luke's body, keeping eye contact with Kira the entire time. He lifted Luke, holding his slackened body upright. Luke groaned in protest. His eyes started to flutter.
Aldrich tilted Luke's head to the side, exposing his neck. Fangs extended, pushing through his closed lips, and a sinister grin widened his mouth.
He was goading her, urging Kira to make her move, to fall.
Kira brought her hands behind her back and reached into her pocket, flicking the knife open and letting the cool metal touch the fragile skin at her wrist.
She was going to die.
But she was taking Aldrich with her.
Breathing deeply, Kira bit her lip, trying to keep the pain from her face as the razor blade cut deep into her skin, searing flesh and veins. Blood dripped down her fingers, slipping to the gr
ound below, and the shadows followed it. The moment she chose death, made the ultimate sacrifice, the vampire inside of her vanished, leaving only fire in its place.
Aldrich raised his brows, confused, pausing for a moment as the smell of her untainted blood drifted into his senses. He hesitated, dropping Luke an inch.
And Kira attacked.
Flames soared from her palms, blasting into Aldrich so hard that his feet lifted and he flew backward, smacking the ground with his burnt and bald skull. Surprise was etched into his features.
But Kira couldn't stop. Already her life was fading. Her fire flickered. Her body was running on adrenaline, so she pounced, jumping free of the wall to land on Aldrich's chest.
Her fire sunk into his skin, burning already charred flesh. And he was weak. Her powers had sapped his strength. His eyes were glazed over, unfocused from the heavy fall he had just taken.
Kira pressed on, wrapping her hands around his neck, focusing all of her strength on that single spot. Her fingers burned, the lava pouring through her veins was starting to hurt, but she didn’t pay attention to that. Her eyes scanned Aldrich's face, at the cracks spreading along his features, at the life leaving his black eyes.
It was almost over.
A branch flew from the trees, bumping into her arm, but it was barely a nudge, barely strong enough for Kira to feel let alone be hurt by.
Another hit her back.
Kira remained where she was.
The blood from her wrist poured over Aldrich's melting skin, dying it red, mixing with the charcoal flaking off of his neck.
Her fire was starting to slow. But not from the shadows—not from the darkness, which had disappeared. Her life was leaking away and her power was going with it.
Kira's vision started to spot.
She blinked. Not yet, she urged, hold on just a little longer.
Pushing one last time, her power surged. The unstoppable mix of Punisher and Protector sunk into Aldrich.
And it worked.
Her fire severed his neck, melting his flesh away, burning bone so severely that it cracked in half. His eyes widened, realizing his death was inevitable. He was frozen in place as the shadow crept up his neck, a wave of darkness that wasn't vampirism, but was ash—the smoke of his skin flaking away into nothing.
Kira dropped a few inches, landing on the ground with a thud.
Aldrich was gone.
He was finally gone.
Kira had won. But at what price? she wondered, rolling to the side. The blackness had left her body, and for the first time in ages, her fire felt pure, untainted. Her skin felt exactly like her own.
But even that awareness was fading.
"Kira?" Luke's voice filled her ears. Her heart lifted. She would get to say goodbye.
Shuffling feet. Clothes scraping asphalt. And then a hand touched her cheek, a warm hand, hot against her cooling skin.
She was lifted, moved so her head rested on his lap. Kira looked into his fiery eyes, at the emerald green around the edges, adoring how they glowed with love.
"You did it," he said, his voice filled with awe. "You killed Aldrich. We won."
He wiped his thumb along her cheek, brushing away the tears. Confusion clouded over as she remained silent. He scanned her face, looking for injuries, moving down her body, searching for the problem, and then he froze, eyes widening in horror.
"Kira, what did you do?" He cursed, begging for an explanation.
Using the last bits of her strength, Kira raised her palm to his cheek, catching the tears that were falling. He had to understand.
"I saved you," she said, her voice barely a whisper, "I saved you all from me."
"We found a cure, there was another way." He shook his head. His lips wavered and the body below her head trembled.
"No." Kira sighed. "There wasn't. But Luke?"
He nodded.
"I wish there had been. Because I do love you."
"I love you too," he told her, voice cracking. And then he leaned down, planting a soft kiss upon her lips.
Her vision began to fade. The world around her seemed to evaporate until all she saw was Luke. His features hardened, the word "no" danced across his lips.
She felt him lift her, felt the pull of gravity as she sagged in his arms. He carried her, placing her gently down, running to the side.
Kira felt the rumble of the car.
He was speaking to her. She couldn’t hear the words he was saying, but it was okay. She kept looking at him, drinking him in until her heavy lids fell shut.
But it wasn't dark or empty or void behind her closed eyes, because with death so close, there was nothing for Kira but her dreams. The world had disappeared. There were no smells, no sounds, no sights to take in except those her mind created.
So she dreamed of the life she could have had. The one she wanted to have if things had been different.
Instead of finding her on the ground, lying there like a fading memory, Luke would have turned to see Kira standing over him, waiting for him. He would have stood and she would have leapt into his arms, overjoyed at their victory. He would have spun her around, laughing together so blissfully that nothing could outshine them.
And they would have lived together, happily ever after—joking together, bickering with each other, kissing fights away, making memories—they would tease each other mercilessly but would always know that at the base of it there was love. And not the kind of love built on lust, not the kind that eventually puttered out. But real love, the kind of love built on something stronger, built on knowing that you could bare your soul to another person and he would do the same. The sort of love that brightened the world around you, making everything better because you knew your best friend would also be your forever.
Kira let the dream fill her as she traveled back to the place she had been only an hour before, into the heart of her fire, into her core.
The world around her was in flames, but it wasn't scary. It was her power keeping her safe, keeping her warm, reassuring her that even though her life was over, it wasn't the end of everything.
But most of all, it wasn't scary because Luke was there, arm draped over her shoulder, pulling her in close, telling Kira she would never be alone, that they would be together forever.
Kira listened to his words. She let the devotion in his voice roll over her. She let herself believe in him, in them, in herself.
They kissed and her mind was filled with love. It tingled down her senses—a warm golden glow that made life and even death taste sweeter.
And without her realizing it, her soul split. The Punisher fire drifted away, evaporating into the heat of their love.
For the first time in her short life, Kira was at peace, wrapped soothingly in her dreams.
But after a while, even the dreams faded away.
Epilogue
Lana Peters stepped out of the car as quickly as her old body would allow. Two Protector councilmen followed, quiet and stoic, more like bodyguards than a greeting crew. So Lana smiled for the lot of them, forcing her cheeks to widen even though her wrinkled hands shook.
It was hard to let old fears go, too hard for most of the town. But Lana knew, from her daughter and from her granddaughter, that some rules needed to be broken and some traditions needed to fade into the past.
Which was why she had volunteered to welcome the dozen or so vampires standing in a straight line just beyond the wall. Without them, the battle would have lasted far longer. Without them, many more conduit lives would have likely been lost. Without them, her own husband, who believed himself to be twenty years younger than he really was, might have fallen.
She smiled softly to herself, picturing him. He did not want her in this role, but what else could the wife of the head councilman do? The grandmother of the very girl who promised these vampires their lives back? It was her duty, the least she could do. Kira would have wanted nothing else.
"Welcome," Lana called, strengthening her voice from its
normal dainty singsong. "We have turned the wall off. You are free to come in, as friends."
All of the vampires looked at each other, quick sidelong glances that were hard for Lana to follow with her old, human eyes. But she did notice the bright blue hue to their irises—a color that matched the sunny, cloudless sky.
And then one broke free from the line, approaching the wall guardedly. She was a girl with long, flowing black hair who looked no older than twenty to Lana. Too young to be so mature. And right behind her was a boy that Lana did recognize—Tristan. A visitor in their town only a few days before, who looked rather nervous himself.
"Hello, Lana Peters," the vampire spoke, "I'm Pavia. I think Kira." She paused, swallowed. "I mean Luke probably mentioned me."
"Yes, of course, I've heard about you. So nice to finally meet you in person." She nodded slightly, an old-fashioned woman-to-woman handshake.
Pavia shrugged and grinned. "So, should we get this party started? One-way road to mortality and all that jazz?"
Lana coughed, hiding a laugh for the benefit of the stodgy councilmen at her side. "Yes, of course. Please take a seat in the car behind this one and we will take you to the town square."
"Perfect." She turned around, speaking to her own people. "All right everyone, you heard the woman. Keep those fangs securely locked away." She turned again, grabbing Tristan's hand and tugging him along, speaking into his ear. The boy visibly relaxed and walked with Pavia ahead of the other vampires.
Lana eased back into her car with a little help from the two conduits next to her. And then the cars started moving, making their way back into the only home Lana had ever known. She was born in Sonnyville, met her husband here, raised her child here. Her house held the stories of her life. The shelf her husband had accidentally hung crooked, the old chair her father had made for them as a wedding gift, the spot where her daughter had taken her first little baby steps, the spot where she had taken her last.
Never in that life were vampires in her little town. It was a safe haven, an oasis from the threat of vampires, and having them here did feel somehow wrong. But also right at the same time. Because more than anything, her life was about trying to protect people—from vampires, from hardships, from heartache. And now Protectors would be able to protect lost souls in the way they were originally created to do—her granddaughter Kira had been right about that.
The Complete Midnight Fire Series Page 78