City In Embers

by Stacey Marie Brown

  My fork dove into the lukewarm eggs. Food was food. And hot food—or semi hot—was even better. But damn. They did make sure no flavor made its way into the ingredients.

  Whatever expression Ryker saw on my face, it compelled him to reach out, clutching a box full of salt and pepper packets and pushed them to me. Salt. Yes. My hands tore eagerly into the small packages and doused my food. I loved salt. Potato chips, popcorn. I liked it all. Even more than sweet, salty items were my vice.

  When I finally put the coffee to my lips, I almost spat it out. I knew it would be bad, but this was disgusting. The acidic flavor gagged me. “This is awful.” Still, I held the cup, about to take another drink. My body’s need for caffeine dominated my taste buds.

  Ryker took the coffee from my hands. He dug into the caddy, grabbing a package of honey, and poured the thick liquid into my cup. He then stirred it and handed it back to me. “It won’t be like your foo-foo coffee you’re used to, but it should be more tolerable.”

  Taking another sip, I nodded in agreement as the sweet substance slid down my throat. “Still crappy coffee, but thank you.”

  His head turned to me, our eyes connecting. “You’re welcome.”

  In that moment, the angry tension between us receded. A truce or maybe understanding took up the space instead. We would not talk about the night before or act like it ever happened, pushing it to the far reaches of our minds. Being mad at each other wouldn’t help us. We needed to be somewhat cordial. We had to be a team.

  “She gets honey, but I don’t?” A quiet but passionate whisper came from between us.

  “You are not eating honey in my bag,” I said into my cup, taking another swig.

  Ryker huffed and grabbed several plastic packets of honey and shoved them in with Sprig.

  A gleeful monkey chirped in response.

  “Ryker,” I exclaimed, glaring at him with disbelief. “I told him no.”

  “It’ll shut him up.” He shrugged. “It’s only honey. What’s it really going to hurt?”

  Again, the surrealness of the moment sank in. A smile slowly curled my mouth. “If we’re not consistent with him, he’s not going to learn.” I used my best “mother” voice. “He needs rules, and you cannot undermine me when I tell him no.”

  Ryker eyes widened slightly before he got my joke. He snorted, looking back at his plate. “Guess we know who the fun parent is.”

  I laughed—an actual belly laugh. It was the first time since Daniel’s and Lexie’s deaths.

  It felt good.

  Ryker was on watch as I looted the storage unit. I tried to keep it to only things we needed or might be able to trade. If I was supposed to feel guilty, I didn’t. Not really. I felt more shame than when I was younger, but this was survival. Times were different now. When events like this happened, you survived any way you could.

  A tap on the door told me to hurry. I glared at the door, even though he couldn’t see me.

  “Here, you’ll need these.” Sprig threw a box at me.

  “These are condoms,” I whispered hoarsely at him.

  His eyebrows wiggled. “I felt the tension earlier. I say fight it until you need those.”

  “Ugh, Sprig.” I tossed the box back at him, nicking him in the head. A chuckle came from him as he leaped to another shelf.

  “And I said candles, not condoms.”

  “Same difference.”

  “Really?”

  He winked. “Both burn vigorously all night long.”

  “I’m seriously gonna be sick.”

  A double knock shook the door, quickly followed by another. “Shit.” It meant someone was coming straight for us.

  “What are you doing? No one is allowed back here.” A man’s voice came from the other side of the door.

  “Really? This isn’t where you can smoke?” Ryker’s tone was sarcastic.

  “No. You need to go.” The man’s voice held a note of fear. Ryker was intimidating, and this man was probably thinking he was a troublemaker. And he’d be right. Ryker emanated danger and violence. He looked like someone who could snap at the simplest thing and beat the ever-loving crap out of you. Again, this assessment would be correct.

  “No. I really don’t,” Ryker responded, sounding bored.

  I knew better.

  “Sprig.” I pointed to my bag. He stuck his tongue at me.

  “I am going to call security if you don’t leave the premises,” the man spoke with false authority.

  Ryker emitted a deep laugh. “Those rent-a-cops? Please do.”

  I had to stop this from escalating.

  I pointed again for Sprig to climb in. He sat back on his heels, his arms folded across his chest. “No. I am tired of being in there.”

  “I don’t have time for this.” I turned to the door. Sprig jumped on my shoulder the moment I opened it. The movement of the door caught the man’s eye.

  “Hey, what are you doing?” It was enough of a distraction for Ryker. His fist came up, punching the man in the face. The man went down in an instant.

  “Was that necessary?” I exclaimed.

  “If you hurried like I asked, then I wouldn’t have had to hit him.”

  “So this is my fault?”

  “Pretty much.” Ryker stepped across the man, walking away.

  Sprig leaped off my shoulder onto the man’s chest. The man’s lids fluttered, opening wider when he saw the monkey. “Ha! He just went ape-shit on your ass!” Sprig grabbed his collar. “You get it? Huh? Ape-shit?”

  “Sprig,” I warned.

  He giggled and hopped on my bag and pointed to the man. “Don’t mess with a Viking and his monkey.”

  “Where do you learn these things?”

  “Bravo TV.” He shrugged before crawling inside.

  I snorted, then took off after Ryker. Hopefully the man wouldn’t remember any of this, and if he did, he would chalk it up to a hallucination.

  EIGHTEEN

  Ryker found an empty hotel room on its upper floor. It had a big patio/balcony, which made a good observation point. A lot of the rooms were being used, but as long as they didn’t bother us, we wouldn’t disturb them. I doubted anyone even knew we were here. We snuck in the back and saw no one as we made our way to the top. You could escape from the ground level better, but people could also get to you easier. The top gave you time and a better view.

  Sprig found a drawer to crawl into for the night. I noticed he liked to sleep in safe confined spaces. I wondered if this was something he acquired at DMG. He could fall asleep anywhere, but if he was intentionally going to sleep, he picked “protected” places.

  Ryker took extra blankets from a cupboard and made a bed on the floor. Dark soon coated the room, telling us it was time to go to sleep. Back in the day when they had no electricity, you could see why they followed the sun, going to bed early and rising when it did. No TV or things to do turned the evening into an early night.

  My body was exhausted from nearly getting hypothermia, making my lids close quickly.

  When I opened them, I was standing in DMG’s training room.

  “Did you ever really love me?” a voice spoke behind me. I spun, already knowing who I’d see. He was dressed in his training attire. Black sweats and T-shirt.

  “Daniel.” My lips formed the word with so much joy and happiness. My feet wouldn’t seem to take me any closer to him even though I wanted nothing more than to run into his arms.

  “Did you, Zoey?”

  “Of course.” It was the dumbest question he could have ever asked me. “I loved you so much.”

  “Ah. Past tense.” Anger flashed in his eyes. Something I had never seen directed at me.

  “No... no.” I shook my head. “It’s not what I meant. I love you.”

  A frown creased his forehead. “If you really loved me, how can you be with him?”

  I knew the “him” he was referring to. “It’s not like that,” I denied.

  “Really?” His eyebrow hitched.

>   “Daniel, you know it’s not. I’m stuck with him. I love you. Since the day we met, I fell head over heels for you.”

  A cruel smile twisted Daniel’s mouth. “You have betrayed me.”

  “No!” I struggled to move to him, desperation blazing in my veins. Daniel walked backward, away from me. “No, Daniel. Wait. Don’t leave me. I love you.”

  “Keep telling yourself that,” he said as he dissipated before me.

  “Nooooo!” I screamed.

  “Hey. Wake up.” Someone shook me. My eyes popped open to Ryker standing above me, the night rich and dark around him. “You were screaming so loud you could have woken the dead.”

  I pushed away from him and ran for the sliding glass door, yanking it open. Cool air washed over me, chilling the beads of sweat trickling down my face and back. Tears stung my eyes, but I didn’t let them come. I felt too much pain to cry. It was a nightmare, Zoey. Simply a nightmare. But it felt so real. If I turned around, Daniel would be standing there again. The ache in my chest doubled me and made me gasp for air.

  Slowly, I straightened and went back into the room. Ryker was again lying on the floor, his arm draped over his eyes, the blanket barely covering his shirtless chest. Seeing his naked, taut physique only sent waves of hatred through me. Everything Daniel accused me of or hinted at dug into my soul. Thorny weeds of hate pricked at the open sores.

  “Are you all right?” he mumbled from under his arm.

  More anger boiled under my ribs. “Fuck off, fae.”

  He dropped his arm, staring at me.

  I stomped back to the bed and threw myself on it. I was angry, embarrassed, and disgusted. I just didn’t know at whom—Ryker or myself.

  It took me a long time to fall back to sleep, but finally exhaustion took me. The nightmare still hung in the background of my new dreams, swirling with explosions and death.

  When I woke again, silence cloaked the room in an eerie humming. I twisted, looking at the glass doors. They were wide open; a nippy breeze flapped the curtains, billowing them into parachutes. The sky was turning a dim shade of gray with morning light. I shifted off my belly, onto my side. The cool sheets tangled around my legs, the comforter sprawled on the floor in a heap. I shivered.

  “Ryker?” I leaned forward to where his makeshift bed lay empty on the floor. The memory of the night before and the harsh way I yelled at him after he asked me if I was okay came flooding back. I was so angry and upset, and I took it out on him.

  My toes curled as they gently touched the icy floor. “Ryker, where are you?” The only response was Sprig’s heavy breathing coming from the cupboard, confirming I was not alone. “Ryker?” I climbed from bed, padding to the bathroom. Empty.

  What if he had enough? What if he took off? Nervousness escalated the steady rhythm of my heart. Would he leave me? Even though I was sure he would never ditch his powers, which included me, the thought of him abandoning me fluttered the air in my chest. I should have been used to being discarded, but it hit on a childhood issue of being left or disposed of too many times. The guarded nightmare I kept hidden in the depths of my soul crawled its way up my throat. Most people’s emotions would gradually grow from worried to terrified, but mine were instantaneous, a physiological switch permeating every muscle and fiber in me. Air filtered shallowly in and out of my lungs. He never let me out of his sight. If he didn’t leave, the other option was he had been kidnapped. Killed.

  “Ryker!” I broke into a run, moving toward the open doors. My hand landed on the frame, and I stopped. A gasp crammed itself in my esophagus, causing a traffic jam of air wanting to move.

  Ryker stood at the far end of the balcony, dressed only in his jeans. His knees into a deep lunge; his arms swept above his head. Sweat glistened off his chest as his physique moved in quick fluid motions. Graceful and strong, he seamlessly transferred into a new position. Jumping, kicking, spinning, his form danced soundlessly across the wood planks. I had taken several different classes in martial arts and recognized some of the methodical movements. His were somewhat different than any I had seen. They seemed more ancient, barbaric, and beautiful, as if his body was telling a story—a legend from another time and place.

  He was mesmerizing to watch. His muscles moved obediently under his skin, recognizing each harmonizing movement. Powerful, strong. I shifted back on my heels, looking away from him. My arms clutched my stomach as I cleared my throat.

  There was only a slight pause in his sequence, noting he heard me, before he continued the fluid routine. When he finished, he stood straight and took a slight bow. I could see his chest expand as he drew a deep breath, then swiveled to face me, his jaw already locked in a tight line.

  “You should be sleeping.” His voice was clipped. “You tossed and turned most of the night.” He snatched his shirt off the deck lounge.

  My arms compressed harder across my stomach in defense. “I woke up, and you were gone.” I didn’t venture on, now embarrassed for my impulsive reaction. My dream had rattled me, leaving me vulnerable and sensitive. It would be anyone leaving me, not him personally.

  Ryker strode to me. Fae did not seem to understand personal space even when they found you repulsive. His bare feet skimmed the tips of mine, and his staggering height loomed over me. His proximity made me extremely aware I was only in my underwear and thin tee, a shirt that left nothing to the imagination. I shifted my arms, crossing my chest.

  “I figured being right outside the door was still in the zone.” He didn’t retreat an inch; if anything he leaned in closer.

  I wiggled my toes, watching the early morning light glint off the chipped lacquer. Lexie was the one who painted them. It was before one of my late-night meetings with Daniel.

  “Zoey, most men have a foot fetish. They find red toenails sexy and enticing. Like you’ll be red-hot in bed, too.”

  “Jesus, Lex. You’re twelve. Where do you hear this shit?” I lay back on the rug with a huff. Lexie had the foot pampering stuff in front of her on the floor. With her hands, she tucked her lifeless legs tighter underneath her.

  “How have you not?” She rolled her eyes. “God, Zoey, no wonder you haven’t pulled him yet.”

  “Hey!” I sat, leaning back on my arms.

  Lexie grinned. “I’ve heard you on the phone with him. You change. You become so goody-goody. I’ve never heard you ever utter a bad word or disagree with anything he says.”

  “He’s my boss.”

  “No.” She shook her head. “That’s not why. You become a different person around him.” An impish grin twinkled up to her eyes. “If you want to get into his pants, you need to show him the true Zoey, the sexy dominatrix side.”

  “Dominatrix Zoey?” I laughed. I would look good in leather. “And how is painting my nails red showing him my S&M side?”

  “Oh, it comes with whips, chains, and some spanking. But that’s all up to you. I can only help so much. You need to have everything in your favor.” Her shoulder hitched in a shrug. “Who knows? This might be the thing to set him off. Cause him to teeter over the edge. He could be like, ‘Nah... oh, wait, her toes are painted red. Now I want to fuck her!’”

  “I swear I am never letting you leave this house again. The shit coming from your mouth.” I groaned. “What about him liking me for me?”

  “Oh, please.” She swished her hand. “With your personality?”

  I leaned over and swiped at her. She burst into a fit of giggles, causing me to pounce on her and tickle her relentlessly.

  Her giggles and pleas for me to stop faded away as pain stabbed my chest. I hadn’t accepted either of their deaths yet. The day would come, and it was going to be gruesome and horrible.

  I swallowed the memories, looking at Ryker. Mistake. He was far too close—his unclothed ribcage and abs only inches away from the thin barrier covering my breasts. I tried to shuffle back, but rammed into the frame of the door.

  “Don’t tell me you were worried something happened to me?” Ryker crossed his
arms, his tone gave away nothing, but a slight smirk curved his top lip. This was the perfect time for him to mention the night before, but he didn’t. For this I was grateful. I wanted to forget everything about it.

  “Hopeful was more like it,” I grumbled.

  His mouth stayed closed, but his eyes glinted with an uh-huh-not-buying-the-bullshit look.

  I shifted under his gaze and nodded to where he had been. “What were you doing?”

  His gaze followed mine, his jaw clenched. “Why?”

  “Just curious. Looked like a form of tae kwon do.”

  “Something like it,” he uttered and brushed past me.

  “Seriously, you can’t even tell me that?” I threw up my hands and twisted, following him into the room. “You fae are so secretive and over the stupidest things. You think I am going to go tattle about how you learned martial arts?” I clomped to my neatly folded clothes, snatched them, and headed for the bathroom.

  “It’s not tae kwon do,” Ryker uttered, his back to me. I stopped. “It’s Kalaripayattu. It’s an ancient martial art from India. My father taught it to me. It keeps me calm and centered.”

  My limbs were frozen in place, scared to move an inch. I wanted him so badly to continue, to learn more about his past. When he didn’t I gulped, knowing opening my mouth could result in a full retreat from him. I had to take the chance.

  “Your father?”

  “Dhir was my adoptive father. He led a tribe in a remote village of Nepal.”

  Adoptive? How come he never mentioned it before? It was something we shared, could relate to. Oh, right. Because he didn’t want to bond or care. I was human, beneath his esteem. “What happened to your real family?”

  Ryker whirled, his eyes in narrowed gaps. “They were my real family.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  His jaw clenched together. “They were my true family. They took me in and raised me like their own. They knew I was different, but they were aware of fae. Father was the one who told me I was a Wanderer and trained me.”