Fire In The Darkness (Darkness Series #2)

by Stacey Marie Brown

  People were rising with the daylight. I didn’t care I was covered in blood and dirt, running like a criminal through the streets. But no doubt my appearance attracted attention and alarm. I would expect people to call the police, reporting a mad woman running at top speed down the road, covered in blood. Because of the people taking advantage of Olympia’s weakened state by the ES, police heavily patrolled the streets. But nothing mattered. I didn’t see anything in front of me or behind. No future, no past, merely featureless objects standing in my way.

  Abruptly, a siren wailed behind me. It only made my adrenaline surge. My Fae side dreaded humans; they only led to discovery. That I was not human was becoming exceedingly clear to me. They were so fragile. The blood on my hands was already thick with victims.

  Cutting through someone’s yard, I ran from the pulsating red and blue lights. The cop car came to a screeching halt, loud voices screamed after me as I weaved through the yard.

  “Freeze!” a policeman shouted behind me. “Ms. Brycin, I’m warning you. Stop now.” It took me a moment to fully comprehend he knew my name. A police officer who knew me by sight. There was only one—Sheriff Weiss. I felt more annoyed by his presence than anything. Would this man ever leave me alone?

  “I said stop or I will shoot.” The click of a gun finally slowed me down. “You have nowhere to go. So give yourself up.” I stopped, glancing between him and the twelve foot fence blocking my way. “I finally have you, Ms. Brycin. Don’t make it worse for yourself.” Weiss motioned with his gun for me to move to him.

  I almost wanted to laugh. Didn’t he know I was more of a threat to him than he could possibly imagine? He had always feared me. He had known something was different about me. Well, I should hand it to him. He had actually been correct about me for once, but not in the way he had thought. I used to think someone like a cop could protect me, or had authority over me. Not anymore, not in the world I belonged to. There was nothing he could do to stop me. It was the first time I felt the true distinction between a human and myself. The understanding of it consumed me.

  “You are such a tiny man.” I looked him up and down with a sneer. “But, you were right about one thing. I did cause those fires.” A mocking smile cast over my lips. “But you will never be able to prove it.”

  Weiss inched closer to me, believing he had a chance to catch me. Handcuffs in hand, he was about to grasp for my arm. “Keep dreaming, asshole. This will be the closest you'll ever get to catching me.” In a blink of an eye, I sprang, jumping over the top of the fence. I was gone before he could even fathom how I could disappear over a twelve-foot fence in front of him in mere seconds.

  At a distance, sirens wailed as I darted through Olympia. He was scouring the city for me, but by the time he followed a lead I was long gone, leaving the city far behind me. Soon the sirens became the only the sound in the countryside. I kept running till there were no more houses or people. Hours and endless miles later, my body began to grow weak, wanting to give into fatigue. Haunting images propelled me forward.

  When I reached a creek, my legs paused in their insistent thumping. My brain too tired to think properly, I foolishly tried jumping it. The notion of changing direction or running along it came to me in the middle of my leap. A little too late. Coming up short, I crashed into the rocks and fell back into the rushing water. Battling against it did nothing more than tire my already fatigued muscles. Trying to relax, I let the force of the current wrap itself around me, holding me in its arms and escorting me for a few miles. My lassitude made it impossible for me to fight. The icy water drained what was left of my strength. My head grew uncomfortably heavy and I slipped deeper under the water.

  My lids closed. You are going to die, my survival instincts bellowed at me. The lull of never feeling again, to slip under the water and release my tortured soul forever, overpowered any other urge. My body and mind would find peace from all the pain. Dipping under the blanket of water, I felt a sharp sting slice across my face, scratching me. Jerking up, my head bobbed out of the water, gasping for air. My heavy lids opened to see a large root growing out of a tree, jetting out far enough into the creek for me to grab. With my last speck of strength, I seized the root. It took me several tries, my fingers numb and stiff from cold, but I pulled myself up the tree root onto the bank. My lungs burned as I coughed and sputtered, excess water spewing from my mouth. My brain and body were deadened with cold and exhaustion.

  I closed my eyes and curled into a shivering ball, understanding I would most likely die in the forest tonight. I didn’t care. There was nothing left in me, and all I wanted was for either sleep or death to declare which one wanted me more.

  SIXTEEN

  Daylight streamed down, making me shut my eyes tighter with a groan and pull the covers over my head, burrowing deeper into the soft bed.

  I stiffened. Everything came flooding back to me. Visions of Samantha slicing the large blade across Ian’s throat ripped across along with his bewildered expression. His face would forever be seared into my brain—his pain, his terror. My heart seized in my chest, and a guttural cry wanted to push its way out, my mind also torturing me with all that had happened the day before.

  Sitting up with a jolt, I looked around. I knew I should have been dead from hypothermia or at least waking up on a river bed. How was I in this beautifully decorated bed? The king-sized bed sat in the middle of a large room against the wall. The furniture was modern, but elegant. On one side were large, French-style glass doors that opened onto a large, wooden deck, which overlooked a stunning view of the rolling hills. On the other side were double doors, which probably led out to a hallway. In front of me another door opened up to a bathroom. A large chandelier hung over the middle of the bed, casting rainbows on the wall as the sun glinted through the crystals.

  Still taking in my surroundings, I heard a sharp knock on the door. Not waiting for a response, a woman steamrolled into the room. She was dressed in a grey, tunic-style, button-down dress with white tennis shoes decorated with sparkles. She was short with silvering, black hair, a voluptuous figure, and with what would have been a sweet-looking face, if it wasn’t for her stern expression right then. She carried a bundle of clothes in her arms.

  “Señorita, usted debe despertar y vestirse,” the woman rambled on, looking at me expectantly as she placed the clothes down on the bed.

  “Huh?” I responded, befuddled.

  “Levantarse.” She motioned with her arms to get up. I had paid enough attention in Spanish class to understand at least that word.

  “What on Earth is going on right now?” I shook my head, feeling like I had stepped into an episode of the Twilight Zone.

  “Shower, Senorita. Senor would like to see you,” the lady spoke in broken English.

  Senor? Where the hell am I?

  The woman pulled down my covers impatiently, nodding towards the bathroom and then down at a pair of terry cloth sweatpants with matching hoodie in a shocking pink. I cringed. A lot of girls loved that color, but I hated it. My entire personality revolted against pink. That’s when I noticed I was no longer in my clothes, except for my underwear and tank I had worn the day before.

  Oh Jesus . . . someone undressed me. “Where are my clothes?”

  “Basura. Muy sucio.” Her nose wrinkled up in disapproval, like I was a kid who rolled in the dirt solely to annoy her.

  Trash? She threw my clothes away?

  “Rapido, Senorita,” she tsked me.

  I slid off the tall, enormous bed, feeling an awful lot like the princess and the pea. She herded me toward the bathroom, which was almost as big as the bedroom. A huge, white tub sat in front of French doors which opened up onto the balcony; another gorgeous chandelier hung over it.

  “Pronto.” The lady motioned for me to hurry and then shut the door. When I was finally alone, I turned towards the mirror. The girl looking back was a shell of my former self. Mud clumped in dried chunks in her ratted hair, looking like a wild beast. Her body was cov
ered with dirt, scrapes, and blood. The biggest difference was in the face. The normal, glowing eyes were sunken and lifeless. Pain seemed to be etched through her face, like a brand mark. My eyes couldn’t stop staring at the dried, red stains on my top—Ian’s blood. My fingers slid over the soiled area. A sob gurgled in my chest and I pushed away from the counter, turning away from the husk of the person who looked back at me in the mirror.

  After a quick shower, I climbed into the soft sweatpants she had laid out for me. They were blinding to look at, but I couldn’t deny the sheer comfort of them. Tacky, but definitely the top-of-the-line tacky. Someone who lived in a house like this could afford to buy the best.

  I had barely slipped on the zip-up hoodie and pulled on the cushy socks when the lady headed for a door. “Come, Senorita,” she said over her shoulder. I hurried, making sure I was close on her heels. She already felt like my safety base. If I was near her, nothing bad could happen to me, right?

  Please let this be true . . .

  She led me downstairs to the first floor. My eyes widened as I followed her through the different areas of the house. I had thought the previous rooms were enormous and decadent, but the rest of the house blew me away. It really couldn’t be called a house, more like a mansion. It was in the style of an English Manor, with old dark wooden beams, huge fireplaces, curved entries, and beautiful chandeliers. But there was a modern, elegant, and contemporary feel in its furnishings and style. It was gorgeous and probably had been on the cover of Architect Digest. My mouth hung open the entire way.

  Would these people adopt me?

  As soon as the thought flickered through my mind, betrayal engulfed me. Mark. I took in a gulp of air and pushed him out of my thoughts. The pain was too raw.

  The woman finally stopped in front of double, frosted-glass doors at the end of the hall. She knocked lightly on the door. “Senor?”

  “Yes, Marguerite?” A deep, sultry voice slid from the other side of the door, making me more alert. I could feel his force through the door. I was not dealing with a human. I should have known. My luck was never that good.

  “Senorita es aqui.”

  “Okay, send her in,” the voice spoke again.

  I gulped down the instinct telling me to run.

  Marguerite opened the door and stepped aside to let me pass. Nodding a polite thank you, I stepped into the room.

  I should have run.

  SEVENTEEN

  A regal, elegant looking man sat behind a desk with an assured confidence. His tall frame was dressed in a dark, very expensive looking suit. He had black, wavy hair and light olive complexion. I could feel wealth, elegance, and danger rolling off him in waves. I sucked in my breath with a hiss, as his piercing, yellowish-green eyes pinned mine.

  He was a Demon.

  My one eye was an exact duplicate of his. The glowing, odd, yellow color had always made people more uncomfortable than the blue one. Now I understood why. They could sense, without understanding, the Demon in me.

  The energy pounding off him and through the room told me he was no ordinary Demon. I hadn’t felt this level of power since being in the same room as the Queen.

  “So, this is what all the commotion is about.” His eyes cut into me, adversely. “You definitely have your mother’s looks, if you get past the street urchin look.”

  My head jolted back. My mother? How does he know my mother?

  The years of lies came hurdling back. Of course. My mother had been Fae. He probably knew her or, at least, of her. It felt strange to think of my mom as having this secret, this other life and world, which she had kept from me. Every Fae I had met recently told me I looked like my mother. It always struck me as odd. I didn’t really look anything like her. I only resembled her in personality. They apparently saw something I didn’t.

  “I am so glad I finally get to meet you.” The Demon smiled at me. The smile was calculated and full of hidden meaning to which I was clueless. Tensing, I held my ground. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised Elighan tried to keep you for himself. He had a valuable token in his arsenal. Worth a lot in trade.”

  Only one word slammed into my brain. “Eli?” Was that how I got here? He had finally traded me?

  A slight frown creased his forehead. “Yes, Elighan, the Dark Dweller you have grown so found of. . .” he trailed off, looking at me for a reaction. “His adamant interest in what I thought was an ordinary human, made me curious. He is someone I have kept a close eye on over the years. They are a clan you keep on your radar—smart, powerful, ruthless, and extremely dangerous. They don’t find interest in something unless it is exceptionally important. I soon realized their notice of you was not unfounded.”

  I dug my nails into my palms, clenching my jaw together in a hard line, forcing back the hollowness I felt hearing Eli’s name. “You’ve been following me? Who are you?”

  “I think you know.” Like with the Queen, I already seemed to know the answer to my own question. My gut understood the moment I walked into the room. I was face to face with the one of the most formidable dark Fae there was.

  “The Unseelie King.”

  He smirked. “You can call me Lars. Feel honored, only a select few get to.”

  Lars was the Unseelie King. Why hadn’t Eli or Cole told me that? Why hadn’t Torin? This was who Torin wanted me to find and who the Dark Dwellers wanted to deal with?

  Sweat started to tickle the back of my neck. “Thank you, sir.”

  His smirk grew into a beautiful, half smile. It was not a warm smile. There was something else about him making my gut wrench and my lungs feel as if they were in an iron grip. The instinct to run thumped across my shoulders, down my back, to my legs.

  How do I keep finding myself in these situations?

  He regarded me. “How are you feeling?”

  “Um . . . okay.” Like crap actually.

  “Good.” He nodded. “You did not look well yesterday when we found you. I hope you slept all right? Were the accommodations to your satisfaction?”

  This was a tad surreal. The dark and evil Unseelie King was asking me if I slept okay. Once again I felt like a toy being batted around.

  “The place is lovely, but you know that. So let’s cut the chit-chat here.” I crossed my arms.

  “Direct and to the point.” He nodded, seeming to be pleased. “What would you like to know?”

  “How did I get here?” I motioned around. “Did the Dark Dwellers trade me? How did you know where I was? Did you track me down with a Demon spell or something?”

  “A Demon spell?” A condescending smile twitched on Lars’ lips. “Well, if we had such a thing, it still would not have been hard to find you.”

  “Demon sixth-sense then?”

  “No,” he replied. “I didn’t use anything like that. You came to us, Ember.”

  “What?” I stepped back, stunned. “What are you talking about? I passed out on a muddy embankment, not in a bed with eight-hundred-thread-count sheets.”

  “Yes, you did pass out on an embankment.” He leaned forward in his chair. “My embankment, next to my creek, on my land.”

  Was not expecting that.

  “And where is this exactly?”

  “We are about forty miles southeast from Seattle. I own about two hundred acres.” He dipped his gaze out the doors where gorgeous forest lands rolled outside the windows. “It is easier to run my business from here and keep it well-guarded. Nothing can penetrate my lands without me knowing it.” He looked back and pointed to the chair. “Please, sit.”

  I crossed my arms and declined with a shake of my head.

  His eye brow lifted, but he continued on. “It is not a coincidence you found your way here. Intuition brought you here.”

  I laughed bitterly. “You think I would knowingly, or even unknowingly, come to a place inhabited by the Unseelie King? Where I’d be held prisoner?”

  “Prisoner?” His eyes widened slightly. “Has anything you experienced so far made you feel like a p
risoner in any way?”

  “Just because I can’t see the bars doesn’t mean they're not there.”

  “Fair point.” He gave a nod of acknowledgement and then shifted in his seat. “You are not a prisoner here, and you are free to go at any time.” He held up his hands, motioning to the outside. I felt like I was missing something. “Go ahead.” He nodded towards the door. “You can leave right now, if you would like.”

  “What’s the catch?”

  “There is no catch.” He looked at me evenly. “And I even promise no one will follow you. But, I will not be able to protect you from the others who want you.”

  “I thought you wanted me, to use me? Wasn’t that your deal with Dark Dwellers?”

  “There was no deal made with them. Nor did they even approach me with one.” He sat back, clasping his hands together. “You could have been. I would have gladly assisted them in their fight against the Queen for you. Now they have lost their bargaining chip. I am thinking Elighan is to blame. It is usually not in a Dark Dweller’s nature to love outside their own. But, obviously that is not true here.”

  My head snapped up. This reaction produced a small smile to come across Lars’ lips. “Your feelings for him are written all over your face.” His tone was reprimanding. “You have been with humans too long. Your emotions are a weakness. You have no filter, and we must break you of that.”

  “We?”

  “Yes. I want you to stay here and train.”

  A sharp laugh broke from my lips. “You've got to be kidding me?”

  “On the contrary.”

  I had to hold my tongue from saying something smart-ass; he was not someone you got lippy with. Safety and danger teetered in the air, easily swinging in any direction.

  He stared into my eyes and pressed his lips together. “I understand you are distrustful. So many have lied to you before.”