Eighth Note (Fire Ballad Book 1)

by Kimberly Adams

  I stared at his muscled abdomen, tempted to press my lips to the towel line and change his mood with my mouth.

  “Instant message would be better,” I corrected, making sure my breath was hot when it reached his navel. He rolled my chair backward, squatting to look me in the eye.

  “It is time for you to pursue a college education, Eva. Or a career perhaps. You are resentful lately, and I feel that Perry is affected by your behavior.”

  I stared at him, open mouthed.

  The fire from my core roared through my blood, and my fingertips lit with flames as I actually contemplated slapping him.

  Yes, flames- another one of my magical features. I’d learned that if you possessed magic, it learned you, you didn’t learn it. I had the ability to create fire with my “passion” (which was my grandfather’s nice way of saying “shitty temper.”)

  I’d learned to control my powers over the year without setting the whole damn house on fire, but sometimes, if I was caught off guard by- oh, I don’t know- my husband being a complete and total asshole, I saw red.

  He noticed the heat before I could extinguish it, and I clenched my jaw, snapping my fingers to cover my lack of command.

  “That’s not true. And my high-school education from 2024 was way better than any college education of 2014.”

  “There is always more to learn.”

  I clenched my fists. “You sound like a fucking public service message.”

  He cringed at my language. “You are angry. When you have calmed, we will speak.”

  “Oh, no, you don’t get to just come in here, piss me the fuck off, and then march out, you self-righteous-…,”

  “-…before you say something that you shall regret, please allow yourself time to really think about what I’ve said.”

  “Oh, no, we’re talking now, Will! Get comfy!”

  “Stop shouting.”

  “I’m not shouting!”

  My nostrils flared when I was angry, an attribute that only further infuriated me when I was ticked. He rose in one shot, and I rolled back in the desk chair as he grabbed the baby monitor and headed for the door.

  “I have dealt with juvenile behavior all day. We’re through speaking tonight.”

  “Oh, right, I’m a child again. Right. Whatever.”

  I wished he would have just slammed the door, really rocked the hinges, just to make me feel a teeny bit better about my outburst. Of course, he would never chance waking Perry, nor would he allow me to see him lose control.

  I waited until I was sure he was in bed and slipped into our darkened bedroom. Dropping my shorts to the floor, I kicked them into the bathroom, deliberately leaving them next to the hamper instead of putting them into the hamper.

  Like a child.

  Growling inwardly, I snatched them up and tossed them into the basket. I didn’t want to fight with Will. He put up with so much shit from me, and it wasn’t fair for me treat him like any of my restlessness was his fault.

  I knew it.

  A sudden, persistent banging drew my attention to the shower. Narrowing my eyes, I marched to the curtain, ready to pound on the wall to silence the pipes. That’s it. We’re starting renovation by July.

  Swiping the metallic gray shower curtain to the side, the tips of my fingers lost feeling.

  The entire bottom of the tub was gone.

  Chapter Two

  Holding my breath, I swayed, all the blood rushing away from my brain as I stared down into the hazy hole that was once the floor of the bathtub. Instead of looking directly into the kitchen, as I should have been, I was teetering on a sharp cliff. A sparse wasteland of dead trees, boiling puddles of murky water, and heaps of something that I couldn’t quite make out littered the ground.

  Taking a brave step forward, I shoved my fist over my mouth, fighting back an involuntary gag.

  Animals- large beaked, black birds- littered the dead knolls, rotted and dragging themselves across the plains. The rancid, sulfuric smell burned my nose, and I squinted, unable to pull my eyes from the silent scene. The nightmare was too close and 3-dimensial, like peering through an old View-Master at a slideshow of uncontaminated horror. Ethereal outlines of human-like shadows skittered to and from each decomposing carcass, smacking lips and making a suckling noise that turned my stomach inside out.

  My sweating palms slid over the shower curtain as I jerked it closed, suppressing a shudder.

  What the fuck?

  The smell dissipated almost as quickly as it had arrived.

  Carefully, I leaned a little to the left, forcing myself to look again.

  I saw Perry’s Mermaidia Barbie first, the blonde clumps of wet hair still stuck to the tub walls from her bath earlier. My Aveda anti-frizz was placed neatly next to Will’s shampoo, and droplets of water collected near the drain.

  Scrubbing my hands over my face, I took a deep breath, trying to make sense of what I had seen. What in the hell just happened?

  It was my bathroom. My normal bathroom, with the outdated strip of lighting above the sink, my toothbrush next to Will’s, the hand towel folded neatly on the rack. My Victoria’s Secret body sprays and lotions were lined haphazardly against the wall.

  Nothing happened. I’ve been staring at the computer screen for too long. Exhaling quickly, I shook my head, leaving just my cami and panties on as I made my way to Perry’s room.

  My daughter slept soundly in her crib, the soft hue of the nightlight illuminating the giant mural of Icepond that I had painted on the wall. I pressed a kiss to my fingertips and then brushed my fingers over her hair, tucking the auburn locks behind her ear as she gave a rapid, double sigh.

  Though Will had given up his reign over Icepond for me to live on Earth, I realized that I regretted my selfishness. I had a purpose there; I was the queen, and magic had a place in that world.

  I had a place in that world.

  Earth was no place for magic. My father made me promise to keep my abilities a secret, and I followed his advice just like I always did… when it suited me. I’d spent my teenage years in clubs blowing up the dance floor, making everyone around me see whatever I wanted them to see as I spun records and mixed beats into my perfect atmosphere.

  And then I’d dance.

  I missed dancing. I missed art, and friends, and my family. My stomach grumbled, and I realized I’d missed dinner. Moving downstairs through the darkness of the house, I made my way to the kitchen. No matter how upset I was, I could eat. I could always eat. I had to be careful because when I reached twenty-seven, my body would remain exactly how it was for the rest of my immortal life. Automatically I reached for my ass, groaning at the excess curves that hadn’t existed before Perry. Ugh. Squats, first thing in the morning.

  The dishwasher was running, and I silently thanked Will for cleaning the kitchen. One remaining drinking glass was left in the cabinet on the highest shelf, and I stretched, rising to my tip-toes to try to reach it.

  Straining, I missed the grab after a second attempt. “Fuck you, cabinet,” I hissed, starting to climb to the countertop.

  “Allow me.” Will’s voice nearly choked a startled scream from my throat. He had his arm around my waist and was lifting me into the air before I had time to protest.

  Grinning, I easily reached the glass, sighing as his warm, naked chest pressed to my backside. “You scared the shit out of me.”

  He arched one eyebrow. “Quite out of character for you, my little assassin.”

  I shrugged against him, goosebumps rising over my skin as his mouth just barely skirted my neck. “I thought… I saw something earlier… I don’t know. You’d better put me down, I’m…,”

  “Hmn,” he responded with a hum against my ear, and I shivered, swallowing hard and gripping the glass. “Perhaps I can make you forget your fear of heights,” he murmured, grasping both of my sides and turning me quickly.

  I squeaked as he dropped me to the counter, his mouth hovering over mine for endless seconds before crashing down to t
hrottle my cry. The glass wobbled and fell into the sink, and I thanked the rubber mat for padding its fall.

  “Upstairs?” He asked, his palms drawing up my sides, his fingertips were massaging into my skin.

  “No. Here. Hurry,” I breathed, reaching for him, grabbing his hips to find that he was completely naked.

  He hated when I was mad, which was more than half the time, and I began to wonder if I started fights just for the mind-blowing make-up sex.

  His mouth dropped to my neck as his fingers slipped between my thighs, inches from where I wanted them, and my head slammed backwards into the cabinet door. My flattened palm felt the counter for balance, and I knocked over a box of Cheerios as Will’s tongue traced the space between my earlobe and throat.

  His hands, oh God his hands, slid mercilessly close to the edge of my black and red polka-dotted panties. When his index finger tugged the thin material aside, I gasped, thrusting against his touch.

  “Slowly,” he coaxed, and his deep voice was enough to send chills down my arms and over my back. When his tongue nipped at my shoulder before his other hand flicked the strap of my cami away, I arched closer to him, groaning.

  “Shit,” I whispered, shifting, rocking into his hand even as the fucking Cheerios rolled their way beneath my ass. “Will, wait…,”

  “Slow, Eva,” he warned, parting me and sliding one finger inside. Moaning, I linked my legs around his waist, finally grasping the cabinet door handle for support. He knew that if I got too turned on too fast, I’d lose all ability to control my magic.

  And then the fire department would be beating on our door again.

  I narrowed my eyes at the crunching sound on the countertop.

  “Stay with me, love.”

  “Every… time… I move,” I wrapped my arms around his neck, panting at my body’s inevitable reaction to his fingers. He knew exactly how to touch me, at just the right tempo, kindling a fire that I was struggling to keep inside my body and not project onto my new kitchen curtains. “I’m crushing the cereal-…,”

  My words were failing. He knew I was losing focus, and once I did, my control would be gone.

  “Give me your electricity,” he ordered, his mouth on mine. I stopped worrying about the motherfucking Cheerios as his tongue swept over my lips, plunging in rhythm with his fingers. “Your spark.”

  We’d played with magic in the bedroom many times, mostly with music. I could give him my hand and he could play a song through me, using my power, but I’d never given him any other kind of magic.

  Nervously, I started to pull away, but he grasped both sides of my head, holding me steady. His eyes held a wicked glow, bluer than the moonlit sky over the ocean outside.

  And then I melted.

  He won.

  I pulled from the back of my mind, where my magic grew, and felt for the electricity that I knew I was capable of producing. I listened to the crackling in our kiss, and he grinned, accepting the magic that I was giving him.

  And then he dropped his mouth between my thighs.

  I set the dishtowel to my right into flames, waving my hand to extinguish as I moved in and out consciousness. Electric shards of painful pleasure came from his lips with every taste, every lick, and I was struggling for control. My fingers curled into his hair as the inferno rushed through me. I was terrible at being quiet during sex, and the moment I let go of a scream, his hand clamped over my mouth.

  “Shh, you’ll wake Pea,” he stopped me. I groaned as his mouth left that perfect spot between my thighs and moved to my breast, over the thin material of my cami. He started to tear away the strap, but I stopped him.

  “The couch,” I ordered. He backed away, taking me with him as I clung to him with my arms and legs.

  “Slow down,” he reminded me, between breaths. “Precautions, Eva.”

  I sobered a little. Though Will definitely wanted more children- someday- I was positive that I didn’t. We both knew that my pregnancy with Perry had been a difficult one. I couldn’t do any magic without getting horribly sick, and then labor had been terrible.

  I snapped my fingers to produce a condom, growling as nothing appeared. I was perfecting the ability to create things out of thin air, but I required pure necessity. Apparently the powers that be were promoting abstinence tonight.

  Trying again, I exhaled with a grunt as he dropped me to the couch. “I can’t make one. I don’t know why. And I don’t want to slow down, I want you, Will.” I had him in my hands, stroking his length, and he exhaled sharply. “Right fucking now.”

  “I’ll run upstairs-…,”

  Perry’s cries filled the living room, and we groaned in unison.

  His forehead dropped to mine. “My turn,” I relented, climbing to my feet. “Go to bed and wait for me. I’ll be in as soon as I get her back to sleep.”

  “Yes, love,” he followed me up the stairs, kissing me softly as I stopped at Perry’s door. By the time I made my way across the room, she had already settled back to sleep.

  I whispered an I love you to her before backing away from her crib, leaving her door cracked behind me as I entered our bedroom.

  Will sat on the bed, my phone in his hand, and I narrowed my eyes. “What?”

  “You have a message.”

  I moved to him, and he caught me around my waist as my eyes scanned the words.

  Logan gave me your number. Need your help. -Cole Mathison

  “Cole? He came back?” Cole Mathison had fought with us in the final battle, and had decided to stay in Icepond and work with my brother. Logan was my brother-in-law, Violet’s husband… and Cole’s father.

  The man who Cole knew as his father was not a physical immortal, but an immortal soul. Cole and Logan had no blood relation. While Logan’s soul was reborn again, Cole remained a physical immortal.

  From 1954. Fucking crazy, I know.

  “Apparently he has come back. And he cannot return without your assistance. I assume that is why he has contacted you.” He started to kiss my hip, but I was already texting back rapidly.

  Will was right; no one from this world could move through the doors to Icepond without me. Going home to the world you were born in, no problem.

  What do you need?

  “If you still possess the ability to text while I am kissing your thighs, I am failing quite miserably.”

  “I’m a multitasker,” I assured him, pushing him back over the bed to straddle his waist.

  The phone lit up, catching both of our attentions.

  I’m outside your house. Can we talk?

  Will’s eyes scanned the message and he was on his feet before I could utter a sound. “Wait, Will-…,”

  “Stay here, Eva.”

  “Just go check on Perry, and then come with me. I can protect myself. And besides, he’s our friend, remember?”

  “He kidnapped you.”

  Okay, he had me there. Yes, he had kidnapped me when I was four years old, but it was a long story, and we were all cool now.

  “Only because he was trying to save the world.”

  “Be cautious,” he warned. I nodded, hurrying to the door. “Eva.”

  “What?” I touched the handle, and he cocked his head to the side through the darkness.

  “Pants, love.”

  Realizing I was completely naked from the waist down, I grinned. “Right. Thanks. What would I do without you?”

  Chapter Three

  “Nice to see you, darlin.”

  Cole’s drawl was as southern as the Carolina summer heat. I’d moved to the south from Ohio when I was eight, and since neither of my parents had accents, I didn’t, either. Will’s proper dialect was only slightly affected from the other world, and I found him cringing at my slang on a daily basis.

  “You, too. How long have you been back?” I’d slipped a pair of shorts on and grabbed a sweatshirt for decency, and the evening was finally cooling down a little.

  “A few months. Your brother has more than enough help in Icepond.
”

  “He’s doing okay?”

  “Your grandfather keeps him in line,” he nodded, shifting against his car. Through the dim light of evening, I could see that the model was a ’63 or ’64 Chevelle, fair condition. My dad was a car guy, and taught me everything he knew- including how to break into and hotwire a vehicle when I needed to.

  I hadn’t needed that skill yet, but I was itching to try.

  “Nice car.”

  “One owner,” he winked, patting his back pocket before retrieving a pack of Marlboros. Cole Mathison was immortal, just as I was. Though he appeared twenty-seven, he was definitely closer to seventy, like Will. His dark hair needed to be cut, and his beard looked like it’d been grown out of neglect. He was unkept, like he hadn’t slept in days, and I caught a glimpse of the sleeve of tattoos along his right arm as he reached for a lighter.

  I snapped my thumb and middle finger, cupping my hand from the evening breeze and holding my flame out to him. His cigarette moved up and down once on his lips in cadence with his eyebrows before a smirk met my flame.

  “Will’s coming out. He was just checking on Perry.”

  “She’s got to be a beauty,” he inhaled quickly, nodding his thanks, and I extinguished my fire. “Appreciate you coming out.”

  “Well, when someone hunts me down, texts me in the middle of the night, and says ‘I’m waiting outside your house,’ I’m pretty sure he’s looking for a fight.”

  He gave a short puff of laughter. “Hon, it’s ten o’clock.”

  Biting my lip, I winced. God, I’m fucking old. “Well, it feels like the middle of the night when you have a toddler.”

  “I won’t keep you,” he promised. “And I don’t think your husband will like what I have to ask you.”

  “Good thing he’s not the boss of me.”

  He shook his head once, flicking the cigarette at the ground. “Your blog is hot. You’ve worked with Rolling Stone. That’s pretty fuckin awesome.”

  “Yeah, well, thanks, but that was a onetime thing. Will doesn’t want me drawing too much attention to myself or our family.”