Fire Within

by Ella M. Lee

  “Sit up straight for a moment,” he said.

  I obeyed, watching in wary confusion as he knelt in front of me. He pressed a hand to the skin at the base of my throat. I tensed, flinching, anticipating his fingers tightening painfully.

  But no.

  He merely made several more of the looping gestures of a healing spell, and immediately the uncomfortable soreness in my neck and back faded. I met his eyes for a split second and then looked away, surprised and embarrassed.

  “How kind of you,” I said.

  My words weren’t a taunt. He had no reason at all to care about my health or comfort, yet he did so anyway. It appeared that I may have misjudged Nicolas, or perhaps he was making exactly the impression he intended to make on me, in exactly the order he desired.

  He retook his seat while I curled back into a ball. The hoodie smelled like his jacket, like him, a combination of herbs and citrus and rain. It was oddly comforting and alluring.

  Nicolas watched me for a moment before turning his attention back to his phone. I studied him. He was the picture of calm, leaning back, his legs crossed in front of him. His right hand tapped lightly against his thigh, and his lips were pursed in thought. He did not, in this moment, seem like a man capable of a feral wolf form, of slitting someone’s throat, of nearly leveling a house with his deadly power.

  I could see precisely why he was so dangerous.

  Finally, the last of the adrenaline I’d been running on since Nicolas had let me out of my cell was gone, leaving behind exhaustion in its wake. My eyelids drooped as I watched him. Eventually, I slipped off into sleep without realizing it.

  When I woke, the sun was just beginning to set, making the view golden and stunning. Nicolas was nowhere in sight, but the door to the bedroom was open. Peeking in, I saw that he was sound asleep on the bed.

  Ballsy.

  I played through a scenario in my head where I stabbed him with a kitchen knife and tried to make an escape. Even if he had been lying about needing magic to leave the building—and I didn’t think he was—I wasn’t sure how to get out of this apartment or off this floor. I definitely did not know the way out of the building or how to elude the dozens of clan members between here and freedom. I would no doubt be caught and executed on sight.

  I lay back down with no idea what to do next.

  My truce with Nicolas was tenuous, but it was better than any alternative I could imagine. I was sure he knew that too. As mysterious and impenetrable as he was, he didn’t seem like the type to fuck with people for fun. He appeared to value straightforwardness and brevity, and he definitely didn’t have unlimited patience, so I couldn’t fathom why he would string me along for no good reason. I had to believe our agreement would hold for now.

  The idea of being clanned again, even by a different clan, was appealing. My fingers ached, yearning for my missing magic. I felt slimy and strange without it, my body completely confused and upset. Would it be so bad, abandoning Flame? Nicolas was right—they had abandoned me first. I knew why, but that didn’t make the sting of betrayal any less painful.

  He had said I could be happy here, but was that true? And what did that really mean?

  I was startled by a sharp set of knocks on the apartment door. I sat up swiftly, my eyes widening. A string of unintelligible Chinese words issued from a muffled male voice on the other side.

  Nicolas stirred and came out of the bedroom, walking past me rapidly. On the way, he barked several words back in Chinese, sounding mildly irritated.

  I hauled myself up, looking around in a panic. I didn’t think I wanted to be within his guest’s sight, at least not at first. I wasn’t sure what part I was supposed to be playing. Scared captive again? I spotted a dark corner by the piano and went to it, sitting on the floor and pulling my knees to my chest. I didn’t want anything like the attention I had received earlier from Nicolas’s clanmates.

  Nicolas opened the door to reveal a short, lean male with delicate East Asian features. He had very dark eyes with shadows beneath them, and his hair had been dyed a brilliant coppery red. He looked much younger than me, practically a teenager, and he had an open, inviting expression on his face. He was handsome in an intense, angular way. His magic was wrapped up tightly, but I could see how strong he was. His power shifted under his skin like a wild living thing.

  He embraced Nicolas with a relieved smile, holding on tightly, his fingers digging into Nicolas’s back. Nicolas returned the embrace with feeling.

  “I’m glad you’re alive, Nico,” he said. “Sorry I wasn’t there.”

  His words startled me. He sounded almost American, with only the barest hint of an accent, although his oddly careful pronunciation told me English probably wasn’t his first language.

  “You had my orders. I expected nothing else from you,” Nicolas said.

  I watched him closely. His tone was warmer than usual, and his posture was comfortable and relaxed. I got the sense that he would be in a better mood with this young man than in his previous interactions with other clan members.

  “Andres…” the young man began. “That viper. I can’t believe he’s gone. I’m sorry. Are Chandra and Sylvio okay?”

  Nicolas sighed. “They are fine. Recovering. You know how Chandra’s magic tires her.”

  “And you?” The young man’s tone was distressed, and he shifted nervously from foot to foot.

  “Don’t worry. Hardly a scratch on me.” Nicolas turned back toward the kitchen, his guest following. “Let’s have a drink and—”

  He paused before taking another step, casting his eyes around. When he found me, he made a beckoning gesture. “Fiona, lamb, you can come sit. There’s no need to pretend around Daniel. He is one of the few exceptions to the rule.”

  I stood, watching Daniel apprehensively. His eyes were wide as he took me in. His dazzling boyish smile was gone, replaced with a wary frown. Neither of us moved.

  “Daniel, this is Fiona. She’s the Flame magician who killed Andres.” I hadn’t thought it possible, but his eyes widened further. “Fiona, this is my lieutenant, Daniel.”

  “I thought Andres was your lieutenant?” I blurted, confused.

  “I have—had—two,” Nicolas said, shrugging.

  I furrowed my brow. That would have been very unusual in Flame. I didn’t know if it was unusual in Water.

  I hesitantly crossed back to the couch, wondering if Daniel would attack me. He certainly looked like he wanted to, but he didn’t move. He was poised, frozen, the look on his face hard and intense. This short, scrawny young man was a Water lieutenant? Nicolas’s lieutenant? He didn’t look like much right now.

  Nicolas returned with three glasses and a bottle of wine. He took the spot next to me on the couch. I moved further away from him.

  Pointing to a chair, he said, “Dan, sit. I’ll explain.”

  He poured wine. Nicolas and Daniel took their glasses, murmured a toast in Chinese, and drank deeply. I left mine untouched on the table.

  “What’s she doing here?” Daniel asked, narrowing his eyes at me.

  “You read the report on what happened in Vienna?” Nicolas asked.

  Daniel threw a frustrated hand in the air. “Yes, I read the damn report. It didn’t mention any acquisitions, so what’s she doing here?”

  “The report was written before I decided what to do with her,” Nicolas said. “I originally brought her back here for interrogation, but I’ve since found there could be other uses for her. She’s an excellent fighter, quite experienced in Flame, and her magic detection skills are off the charts.”

  I glanced up at him. I hadn’t been expecting him to defend me, and I certainly hadn’t anticipated hearing even lukewarm compliments from him. Clearly he’d been studying my reactions and assessments of things, and he liked what he had seen.

  Nicolas watched Daniel, brow raised, and I got the distinct impression Daniel was silently griping about me and that Nicolas was listening in on his thoughts. Nicolas studied him for sev
eral moments before speaking.

  “She and I have a little deal,” Nicolas said, waving his hand at me. “So far, she’s upheld her end.”

  He smiled an approving smile at me. “Thank you, by the way, for not stabbing me in my sleep.”

  I rolled my eyes. “After you’ve been so very good to me today, with all the threats and sinister allusions and letting Derek put his hands on me? I didn’t even bother looking for a kitchen knife.”

  Nicolas laughed lightly, and Daniel’s brows flicked up. “Nico doesn’t own a kitchen knife,” he said in a disparaging tone. His eyes went to Nicolas. “Derek? Really?”

  “An unfortunate encounter upstairs,” Nicolas said, frowning. “My little lamb here seems to interest him.”

  “Huh, strange,” Daniel said, his eyes traveling up and down my curled form. “He doesn’t usually want used goods. What the fuck did you do to her? She’s a mess.”

  I put a hand to my face reflexively. “He broke my nose.”

  Daniel’s eyes went to Nicolas and narrowed disapprovingly. I watched him in surprise. Were his lieutenant’s methods less harsh than Nicolas’s own?

  Nicolas scowled. “During the raid,” he told Daniel. “I also fixed it, ungrateful lamb.”

  “He only broke your nose in the fight?” Daniel asked, running his eyes over me again. “Be thankful. I’ve seen him boil someone’s blood in their veins.”

  I shuddered, looking away. Nicolas didn’t deny it, and I didn’t want to ask. Who was I to judge? I had seen similar brutality between clans. I had done some horrible things myself. Andres was not my first kill, and I didn’t think he would be my last.

  Nicolas didn’t appreciate Daniel goading me. He clapped his hands together to refocus his lieutenant’s attention. “Derek wants me to call a council meeting. I think he’s trying to use my assassination attempt as an excuse to rile up the clan. If he can get support for his plans, he can make a large move that could win him the chairmanship.”

  “I told you not to decline the position!” Daniel said harshly, and I was shocked to hear his chiding tone toward Nicolas. “Now that scum is going to try for it instead.”

  To my surprise, Nicolas did not reprimand Daniel. Instead he merely put a placating hand out to his lieutenant. Nicolas wasn’t exactly treating Daniel like an equal, but he clearly worked well enough with his lieutenant to have a patient and reasoned dialogue.

  “You know I can’t be clan chairman,” Nicolas said. “You know what it would do to our group, how much it would mess up our future plans. I think pushing Angie toward it and throwing my weight behind her will be enough. I need a better read on Derek, though. I get the distinct impression he’s planning something, and I want to know what it is. This is a difficult subject to search for in visions.”

  I listened with fascination. Chairman was a crucial position, the role responsible for almost all high-level strategic decisions made for the clan. Yet Nicolas didn’t want it, for reasons unknown to me.

  “You know we could do it another way,” Daniel said.

  “No.” Nicolas’s tone was firm.

  “We’re ready,” Daniel said.

  His tone was insistent, his eyes glowing with a captivating mixture of power and determination. His magic was brilliant and dazzling and wound into gorgeous, spindly lacework.

  “No, not yet.” Nicolas’s voice had turned slightly dangerous.

  I drew back, riveted by their conversation, cautiously trying to figure out the meaning in their halting half sentences. They were staring at each other now, ignoring me altogether. The ties on Nicolas’s web of power had come undone, and it filled the area around him, making me tremble.

  “Our plans are not in place,” Nicolas went on. “Even if I made you a commander, you can’t be on the council. It’s not wise for your situation or our goals. It is better to push for Angie and hold our alliances. Don’t let eagerness cloud your judgment. I’m not saying you aren’t ready. You are, but this will work out better with a little more patience.”

  Not only was Daniel Nicolas’s lieutenant, but he was also in line for command, and soon? I watched him even more warily now, wondering about the power behind his dark eyes and youthful looks.

  “I hate how right you are,” Daniel murmured.

  Nicolas didn’t back his tone off. “I’m looking out for you, as I’ve done for years. You know well enough to trust me when I say your plan doesn’t end well. Mine might. Do not pretend as though we don’t have the same goals.”

  Daniel took another sip of wine, simmering in his thoughts, but he didn’t deny it. He merely watched Nicolas, his eyes murky and unhappy.

  Nicolas’s expression softened. “Si-Yi is also putting feelers out. With Andres dead and Ryan uninterested in the role, she thinks I’ll be looking to fill his spot with someone new. I’ve also gotten a dozen texts from others, fishing for information.”

  “I’ll kill Si-Yi if you bring her in,” Daniel said harshly, spreading his hands tensely. “I swear I will.”

  “I know.” Nicolas’s tone was gentle. “I won’t. Si-Yi is of no use to me. You know that. I don’t have plans to fill Andres’s spot, but that means I need to lean on you for now.”

  Daniel rolled his lovely eyes and nodded. “As usual, Nico.”

  I could see how well they got along. Daniel looked a lot like he worshipped the ground Nicolas walked on. Were they related, perhaps? Father and son? No. Although each was attractive in their own way, they looked nothing alike.

  Nicolas was classically handsome, tall and broad-shouldered, with a strong jaw. Given his French name and the slightly exotic cut of his eyes, I imagined he was only half Chinese.

  Daniel was delicate, with a fox-like chin and angular lines. They were both lithe and lean, but none of the rest of their features matched. They didn’t even have the same accent, in English or Chinese.

  Nicolas’s eyes flicked to me for a moment, alight and interested.

  I shrugged. Of course I’m trying to figure you out, I thought. I’d be an idiot not to.

  He refocused his attention on Daniel. “I want it put out to the others that Fiona is mine. Our group will know she’s a captive from the raid, and they will be angry—especially Chandra, Sylvio, and Irina—but if anyone touches her, they will regret it. Do you hear me?”

  Daniel eyed me, raking a frustrated hand through his already-messy hair. It arranged itself back into floppy spikes.

  “You are really going to keep her here?” Daniel asked Nicolas.

  “I am,” Nicolas said.

  “You’re killing me here, Nico,” Daniel said, sighing.

  It appeared I had some winning over to do with Daniel if I wanted to stick around in this clan. Nicolas caught my eye, and I knew he had heard the thought.

  Daniel got up from his chair and walked to me. I tensed. He wasn’t very tall, but he towered over me while I was seated on the couch.

  In a frank voice, he said, “I don’t know what Nico sees in you. Right now, I don’t care. It’s not my business. But if you harm him or any other member of my group, I will hunt you to the edge of the earth and then kill you slowly. Got it, lamb?”

  “Are you sure you aren’t Flame? With that temper, you seem like one. Maybe you should switch,” I said sweetly. “Unless… you’re all talk and no action?”

  Daniel tensed and jerked back, clenching his fist. To imply a clan member wasn’t suited to their clan—that maybe they would seek out another—was one of the rudest insults possible, and then I had added in a gibe about his skills. I could see him battling with himself, figuring out how much he could push me—and Nicolas.

  Without warning, he struck me. The back of his hand connected with my cheek in a resounding crack. I brought my hand to my face, stunned and annoyed. He hadn’t hit me terribly hard, certainly not as hard as he was capable of, but the blow still surprised me.

  Nicolas moved like lightning. With smooth, quick motions he launched himself off the couch, grabbed Daniel’s arm, and threw h
im to the ground.

  Daniel clattered to his knees, and Nicolas drew a stunningly complex ward in the air over Daniel’s head. It hung there, shimmering. With a throaty cry, Daniel jerked backward, clutching his head in agony.

  His eyes were squeezed shut, and a soft moan escaped his lips as he collapsed in a heap. A magical shield flared to life around him, smoky midnight blue and bright against his skin. It must have been his own reflexive response, but it didn’t appear to help against whatever was happening.

  I watched him, frozen, horrified, and then my eyes darted to Nicolas. He stood, arms crossed, his face a mask of annoyance as he glared down at his incapacitated lieutenant.

  “Stop that!” I cried, my hand reaching out toward Nicolas automatically.

  A plea.

  The words had come unbidden, a result of my sheer panic at seeing Daniel’s pain.

  What the fuck was I doing? I didn’t even like Daniel. He’d just hit me in the face.

  Nicolas’s eyes went to mine. He looked as though he had forgotten I was capable of speech, as though he had never seen anything like me before. Obviously not a man used to being yelled at or defied.

  I’m not going to watch you torture him, especially not because of me, I thought.

  His eyes narrowed, but he made no move to reprimand me. With his eyes still on mine, he snapped his fingers.

  The ward disintegrated in midair. Daniel stilled, panting, beads of sweat collecting at his hairline. He staggered to his knees, his face not far from mine. I drew back, nervous, but he didn’t seem to want to antagonize me further. In fact, when they fell on mine, Daniel’s eyes were wide and incredulous.

  We stared at each other warily for several seconds. I watched as his shield disintegrated into nothing. Tentatively, I offered him a hand. He looked at it as though it were a venomous snake and turned his eyes up to Nicolas.

  “I told you I didn’t want anyone touching her,” Nicolas said to Daniel, his voice hard. “I know you love to think you’re special, but you are not exempt from that order. Now that you understand that I’m serious, I expect you to obey me.”