The Key (Heartfire)

by Celeste Davis

  "What is it Kaylia? Don't tell me you don't want me."

  She shook her head, trying to get her bearings.

  "I won't. I mean, I do."

  "Come here then."

  He growled and reached for her again. She stepped away.

  "Just... can you slow down please?"

  He didn't move. She could feel his control, his power. He was just waiting to unleash it. She stepped closer, touching her fingertips to his face.

  "Dylan... what's happening to you?"

  His eyes pierced her, both angry and full of lust.

  "You did this to me."

  "What? What did I do?"

  "You changed me. And now you are going to make me better."

  "I don't understand Dylan... What do you mean? How can I make you better?"

  He smiled at her. It was not a nice smile.

  "Don't worry sweetheart. You'll find out."

  Her eyes widened as he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder. She stopped the scream in her throat. She knew Dylan wouldn't hurt her. Or force her.

  But he was scaring her all the same. She wanted to be with him! Just... not like this.

  Now she was upside down, the world turned over. Dylan ran, but he barely jostled her his control was so great. The ground was moving fast beneath his feet.

  She had no idea where he was taking her. Or why. So she held onto his shoulders for dear life. She didn't need to though. His grip on her was strong but gentle. She knew he would not drop her.

  Still, she didn't really appreciate being treated like a sack of potatoes and told him so. Her vision was limited to the pavement of the walkway, then the tarmac of the stadium parking lot, then grass, and then the leaves and brush of the woods of the nature preserve behind campus.

  She banged on his back to get his attention and he shifted her so that he carried her in front of his body. It happened so fast she barely had time to blink. She wrapped her arms around his neck, closing her eyes as he ran so fast through the trees she thought they were flying.

  Finally he stopped. It felt like they'd been running forever even though she knew it had been less than an hour. They were deep in the woods with no lights nearby. Nobody could hear what they had to say all the way out here.

  The thought was both reassuring and frightening.

  He lifted her so that she slid down his body until her feet touched the ground. Dylan was breathing heavily, his erection pushing against her insistently. He ducked his head, kissing her neck roughly. His hands were busy with one sliding down to her bottom and the other pawing at her top.

  She arched her back, letting him touch her. She was overtaken by the moment, reveling in the feel of him. His hands felt good through her clothes. It felt right.

  The next thing she knew the ground had risen up to meet her back. Dylan had carefully lowered her down without breaking their kiss. She looked up at him as he began pulling his clothes off, staring at her with that same hungry, animalistic gaze.

  There was something else happening to him as well... his muscles seemed to ripple in the moonlight. To grow. The hair on his arms was darkening. She blinked, having trouble believing her eyes.

  Was this really happening?

  And then he was on her, pulling her legs apart roughly, grinding into her through her jeans. She gasped at the raw sexuality of it. At the same time, it felt good. As long as he didn't try to take her virginity in a pile of leaves...

  Of course, he didn't know she was a virgin did he?

  "Dylan! Dylan, wait! I'm a virgin."

  His head snapped up and he stared at her, his eyes seeming to glow in the darkness. He didn't stop the heavy rotation of his hips. His breath was raspy against the tender spot on her neck.

  "What?"

  "I- I've never done this before. Please- you are going too fast!"

  He cursed and let out a howl. Her blood turned to ice as he lifted his head to look down at her. Dylan was gone. A monster had taken his place.

  Thank you for reading The Key. This edition has been completely rewritten in an effort to better tell the cursed love story of Kaylia and Dylan. The story will continue in The Hidden, coming soon!

  Please join my Mailing List for updates and new releases!

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  Turn the page for the following bonus materials from Pincushion Press:

  Excerpt from The Hidden- book two in the Heartfire Trilogy by Celeste Davis

  Excerpt from Second Sight- a supernatural adventure story by author Kara Sevda

  HEARTFIRE

  Book Two

  The Hidden

  Coming soon from Celeste Davis and Pincushion Press

  Dylan

  ◉

  "Stay away from me."

  Dylan's eyes fluttered open. He was laying on the ground. Above him faint light filtered through the trees. It was early in the morning from the looks of it. And it was freezing.

  "What the-"

  "I said stay away from me!"

  He turned his head to see Kaylia kneeling on the ground with a long pointy stick pointed at him. Right at his chest.

  A very pointy stick.

  Her big brown eyes were wide with fear. Her back was pressed up against a tree trunk. She looked like she was shivering. From the cold or fear, he wasn't sure which.

  "Kaylia?"

  "Don't!"

  He ran his hand through his hair and brushed the leaves away. He grimaced, expecting to be stiff after sleeping on the ground all night. Instead he felt good. Really good.

  In fact, he felt fantastic.

  "What the hell happened?"

  She whimpered and waved the stick menacingly. He almost laughed. She was about as threatening as a kitten. He grabbed the stick and tossed it away playfully.

  That's when he noticed her eyes were filling up with tears.

  "Hey... it's okay Kaylia. I'm not going to hurt you."

  She scrambled to the side and was on her feet in an instant. He reached out and grabbed her just as she started to run. It was like taking candy from a baby. He realized that she was frightened of something. He wanted to tell her not to be scared. That he would protect her.

  But he had a terrible feeling that the something she was afraid of was him.

  "Kaylia, what's wrong? Did something happen to you?"

  She stared up at him, the look in her eyes nearly breaking her heart.

  "You tried to- and then you-"

  He reached out for her and pulled her into his arms. She stood stiffly, not relaxing into him. His eyes narrowed. This could not be happening. His sweet girl was not allowed to be afraid of him. He would never do something like that anyway.

  Except... he couldn't exactly remember how he'd gotten there. Or what had happened the night before...

  "No way. I didn't hurt you. I wouldn't."

  "You didn't hurt me, but..."

  "But what?"

  He stroked her hair back from her face tenderly. He pulled a leaf out of her tangled waves and smiled. Her huge eyes were full of unshed tears.

  "You can tell me. It's alright."

  "I just want to go home now please."

  "Kaylia, please tell me what happened. I can't... remember anything after the game."

  She looked at him searchingly. She wanted to believe him, he could tell. He could feel her wavering between fear and compassion.

  "You can't?"

  He shook his head and tried to smile reassuringly. Some of the tension went out of her shoulders.

  "Okay. I'll tell you. But later, okay?"

  He nodded. He would give her time. On one condition.

  "Alright Kaylia, you win. Just one last thing..."

  He saw her startled eyes register that he was about to kiss her a split second before his lips found hers. She stiffened up, feeling like a board in his arms. Eventually she relaxed as he kissed her softly. There was no
urgency or pressure, just... them.

  It was a long time before he lifted his head again. Her eyes were trusting now, tamed by his touch. He followed her as she walked out of the forest, without saying a word.

  What the hell had happened last night?

  Turn the page for more from Pincushion Press

  Second Sight

  Kara Sevda

  1800's... Italy

  He almost caught her. Almost. His hands nearly caught on the soft cotton of her white blouse. But she disappeared in the flutter of falling apple blossoms. Behind a tree. And then another. Twisting and turning through the orchard.

  Gone.

  "Lisetta!" He whispered her name harshly. He was growing nervous, afraid. He didn't want to miss a moment of this. Their long awaited secret meeting. It had been weeks since he last saw her face, held her, touched her.

  Today he had something important to tell her.

  Hands closed over his eyes suddenly, making him jump in fear. But the hands were delicate, soft. They followed him as he tried to spin around. A girlish giggle warmed his ear. A sweet, familiar scent washed over him.

  "Pietro..." She caressed his neck teasingly before releasing him. He turned around, reaching for her. This time he caught her easily. She was ready to be caught.

  He looked down at her. His beautiful girl. His forbidden girl. Her dark hair curling around her jaw, the gentle curve of her cheek. She stared at him with her large brown eyes. She reminded him of a doe, something wild, but temporarily tamed.

  Pietro watched her carefully as he lowered himself onto his knee. He held her hand tightly, certain she would bolt.

  The mischievous look in her eyes was replaced by astonishment as he pulled something out of his pocket. A ring. One his father had given to him when he became a man.

  He looked up at her, his handsome face solemn. They were not supposed to be there in the orchard. They were not supposed to venture to this hill, overlooking his home and hers. They were supposed to be enemies, not lovers. But they had been drawn to each other from the start, from the first time he had seen her sweet little face in the square. Before his mother yanked him away. Before her father drew the hood of her cape down. He had seen her. She had seen him. And they had known.

  Present Day

  Professor Weilright sat behind his desk, looking over the folder. Not just any folder. This was her folder. It was overstuffed with papers and notes and God knows what. Lizzy could see red writing here and there, making corrections, comments, leaving a final unsatisfactory mark. God knows there had been enough of those this year.

  She shifted in her chair impatiently. A slim girl with long golden brown hair, she was prettier than she thought she was. But even if she knew, she wouldn't have cared.

  She rolled her eyes, sighing heavily. How long was this going to take? She knew what he was going to say to her anyway. She didn't really need an encore of what she'd heard from three other teachers already.

  Her fingers drummed the armrest of the stiff backed chair. The sound must have been kind of annoying because Professor Weilright stared at her pointedly. Lizzy stopped drumming.

  The office was dim, a bit dusty, but comfortable. She wondered idly the last time Professor Weilright had straightened up. The leaded glass windows didn't let in much light, but maybe the was a good thing.

  The Forsythe academy was ancient. The ultra exclusive prep school had been in existence for two hundred and thirty seven years, and the formerly private estate it resided in, at least one hundred more. Some of the girls complained about the drafts and creaky floorboards but secretly Lizzie liked it.

  It reminded her of the Museums she had visited as a child with her mother. It was... substantial. There wasn't much she liked about being sent away to boarding school but there was that.

  She liked old shit. It was a good thing too, all things considered.

  Professor Weilright exhaled and leaned back in his chair. She looked up sharply, sensing that the moment was at hand. Here we go.

  "Elizabeth-"

  "Lizzy."

  "Lizzy. You are a smart girl."

  "Thank you."

  "You are a very smart girl who is either purposefully failing or is obviously suffering from..."

  She looked at him expectantly. This ought to be good. Lizzy leaned forward in her seat as he peppered her with rapid fire questions.

  "Drug addiction?"

  "No."

  "Eating disorder?"

  "Um, no!"

  "Teen pregnancy?"

  "At an all girls school? That would be impressive, but no."

  He held up his hands.

  "Okay Lizzy, I tried. We are supposed to ask these questions. But with you I suspect it's more complicated than that. Have you been keeping up your sessions with Dr. Allen?"

  "It's a waste of time. Dr. Allen doesn't know his ass from his elbow."

  It looked for a moment as if Professor Weilright agreed with her when he struggled to conceal his smirk. It was too bad she had decided not to try this year. Professor Weilright was smarter than most. His class was almost enjoyable.

  Almost.

  "Well, be that as it may part of your acceptance at this school was contingent on your... continued therapy sessions."

  She looked out the window over his head, at the floor, anywhere but at him. Her mental health (or lack thereof) was by far her least favorite topic of conversation. Of course, adults always wanted to talk about it. They thought they could understand, make sense of it somehow. Solve the puzzle girl and win the prize.

  But she knew they couldn't.

  "Not to mention you are failing my class. You won't be allowed back for senior year if you can't get a C minus at the very least. And continue with Dr. Allen."

  Her fingers started tapping again as she studied the pattern in the faded afghan carpet. It really was a lovely shade of aubergine. Aubergine. That was whale puke, right? Yum.

  "Lizzy. Lizzy!"

  She took a deep breath and looked back up at him. It was time to face the music. Might as well do it with some dignity.

  "You don't want to fail do you?"

  She shrugged. Lizzy had learned long ago not to fight city hall. Or her own lack of interest in pleasing the powers that be. Apathy was the safest course. Besides, she'd noticed that adults were more than happy to brush lost causes under the carpet. If she didn't have wealthy parents, or an annoying ability to do well on standardized tests, she wouldn't be at this school to begin with.

  "Do you want to be sent home to repeat the eleventh grade in... dare I say... public school?"

  "No. I mean, no I don't want to go home." It was true. As much as she resented being shuffled off half way around the world, getting sent back in disgrace would be much worse. Much. Her stepmonster would never shut up about it.

  Plus she couldn't leave Al to face the wolves alone.

  "But you don't really like it here, do you?"

  "It's alright."

  He stared at me over his folded hands. 'Alright' wasn't the response you expected when asking about one of the best schools in Europe. But she never lied. It wasn't because she was on some moral high horse.

  She was just too lazy.

  "So, what are we going to do about this?"

  "Pass me anyway?"

  Lizzy looked up at him hopefully, doing her best puppy dog eyes. He frowned, not buying it. She sighed. She knew he wouldn't. It was one of the things she liked about him.

  she quickly lost respect for people who took things at face value. Especially when sarcasm pretty much leaked out of her bones in this sort of situation. She didn't like confrontation. Lizzy went out of her way to make it as uncomfortable for everyone else around her as well.

  "I wouldn't be doing you any favors with a free ticket. No, you are going to do an extra credit make up essay. On which I will base..."

  Professor Weilright riffled through his desk for his grade book. He traced his finger
down the column marked 'Elizabeth Cutler'. She leaned forward, curiosity getting the better of her. It's was a pathetic line of F's with one D and a B minus. He caught her looking and slammed the book shut.