Battle With Fire

by Breene, K. F.

  “I met you through one of your bounty hunter contracts,” Darius said, entwining his fingers with mine. “Do you remember? You nearly stole the mark right out from under me.”

  I furrowed my brow, digging through my hazy pre-bond memories. I wondered where he was going with this.

  “Yeah, I remember. You needed to send a bunch of your vampires after me to get him back. I lost out on that contract because of you.”

  “Yes. You intrigued me, which does not happen easily. I’ve been alive for nearly a thousand years. I’ve seen all manner of creatures and learned to expect the unexpected. I did not think I could be surprised by a mere human, magical or otherwise. Most shifters are not even fast or strong enough to combat a vampire of my stature. Only Roger would give me pause, and I knew he wouldn’t be able to get there in time.”

  He took a deep breath and glanced out the window.

  “And then a beautiful, if somewhat disheveled, woman waltzed in and stole my prize right out from under me. I couldn’t believe the audacity.”

  “I recall that you were quite arrogant back in the day, yes.”

  “Still am, actually. Just not with you.” He smiled and then leaned over to kiss me. “Your speed took me by surprise. Your affinity for violence. The menace you oozed, as if it were a birthright.” He shook his head, his smile growing. “Your smell enticed me. Your grace in battle. Your fire. I wanted you that night.”

  “You had a helluva way of showing it,” I said with raised eyebrows. “You seemed incredibly put out by the whole thing.”

  “Of course I did. An elder vampire does not show reactions to trivial things.”

  There was that arrogance I remembered.

  “I couldn’t stop thinking about you after we parted. It hadn’t happened in…a great many years. So many I can’t think of the last time. I was unsettled, and so I cornered you into a meeting. When Vlad met you, he had a similar reaction.”

  “And so you cornered me into a new contract.”

  “Exactly,” he said, and I knew for a fact he didn’t feel even a little bit remorseful. He looked over at me, warmth seeping into me from our bond. “The surprises continued. How your magic was so incredible and unique. How the unicorns reacted to you. How you handled people, refusing to let them handle you.” His gaze dipped to my lips. “How you pushed back when I tried to steer you or manipulate you.” His pupils dilated. “How your blood called to me. When I think back on it, I realize the signs were always there. I started to fall for you that very first night. You have been on my mind ever since. I didn’t know what it meant at first, but your influence on me was a constant pressure until I had no choice but to give in. I may have tried to trap you in the beginning, Reagan, but you were the one who really trapped me, and I’m glad for it.”

  He kissed me again, and I fell into it. His tongue claimed my mouth, deep and sensual, but all too soon he pulled back. He wasn’t through with his confession.

  “When I found out what you were, I was blindsided, to say the least. The first thought that would’ve gone through most elders’ minds was the advantage of such an asset. They would immediately start thinking of ways to use you or leverage you for a better position. But I didn’t think of that. Instead, my first thought was about protecting you—guarding you—against those who might seek to use you.” He put his other hand over our joined hands. “What truly blindsided me wasn’t what you were, but the way I reacted to it. The effect you had on me. In the days that followed, I became aware of the feelings I was developing for you. Feelings that vampires are said to be incapable of. But there they were, against all odds. And they were deep and true.”

  I blinked back moisture. It was official. He’d turned me into an incredible sap. Moss better not tell Penny, or she’d make fun of me.

  “Moss is driving today in remembrance of how we met. He’s driving to give homage to the start of our journey together.”

  “And if we could go back in time and pick literally anyone else…”

  There came those dark eyes in the rearview mirror again. I grinned wickedly at Moss and tightened my hold on Darius’s hand.

  It was then I became aware of where we were. I’d been so engrossed in what Darius was saying that the scenery had passed by without my noticing.

  A scowl creased my face as we turned off the main road. I recognized the little red house on the corner, and the town was just as sleepy as I remembered. A couple of people ambled along the sidewalk, one with groceries and another with coffee.

  I turned my head as we passed, watching them. A pit formed in my stomach, and sorrow rose to choke me. At this point, I expected the next turn, and the two that followed. I didn’t utter a word as we took the long driveway deeper into the trees and then stopped in front of the tiny house I’d grown up in. That my mother had died in.

  “Why are we here?” I asked in a wooden voice.

  Moss turned off the car and pushed open the door, getting out. He shut the door after him and moved away from the car.

  “I thought you might like to see it again,” Darius murmured.

  Tears clouded my vision, and I clenched my jaw, looking out through the window at the woods where I’d learned my magic. Half of my magic, anyway. Memories of my childhood flashed through my mind. Of playing hide-and-seek with her in those woods, and of my explosions of anger when I couldn’t harness the power I knew was there.

  I remembered the stack of bills on the kitchen table, none of which I could afford to pay after she passed. The slip of paper tied to the door, telling me to evacuate. The debt collector turning up with the cops and forcing me out.

  “I tried to earn enough money to buy it back, but it had already been sold.” I stared at the two-room paradise that held so many happy memories. Its dark windows served as an unneeded reminder of what it had been like at the end, when all I could feel was pain.

  Pain that still reverberated through me.

  “I never had a chance to buy it back. So I moved on. I have the memories—that’s what counts.”

  “This house hasn’t been lived in since you left,” Darius said. “An investor bought it from the bank. He planned to tear it down and build a country club of sorts on the land. He envisioned it as a destination spot for city dwellers.”

  I snorted, leaning into him. “Out here? He’s dreaming.”

  “Yes, he was. He had big ideas about what to do with his family money and ended up squandering most of it. He gave the property back to the bank. It’s had no takers since.”

  “And you bought it so you can play savior.”

  I didn’t mean to sound so bitter. This was just one thing I would have preferred for him to leave alone. He’d bought my house for me, fine. He’d remodeled it, okay. He’d bought out the person behind me so he could add space and started building upward—whatever. I wasn’t attached to that place like I was to this one.

  This house had been my world, and I’d let it go. It had been my inheritance, and I hadn’t been able to hold on to it. My mother had worked so hard to keep a roof over our heads, and I’d lost everything. To hear that Darius had just handed this to me, like he’d given me everything else… It was a tough pill to swallow.

  Not that he could’ve known that. This wasn’t his fault.

  “Is there actually a dinner?” I asked, hating the emotion that clogged my throat. The car ride had been so amazing. I looked amazing; he looked amazing. I didn’t want this situation—my past—to dampen the present.

  “No, there’s no dinner. Not just yet.” He pushed open his door and got out.

  I waited a moment, composing myself, reminding myself again that he meant well. Not many men would care this much about a girl’s past. Not many men were sentimental. I was incredibly lucky to have him.

  I took a deep breath and wiped my eyes.

  “Big-girl pants, Reagan.”

  With another deep breath, I pushed away the confusing rush of pain and anger and got out of the car. Darius met me there and held out his
hand. I took it and allowed him to lead me to the front door, which he unlocked with a wave of his hand.

  It felt like the world came crashing down as we stepped inside. The dim interior showcased our heavily used gray couch, the color much darker than it had started. The coffee table was covered in dust, but it still had duct tape wrapped around the joint of one of its legs. I couldn’t believe the vase of fake lilies still stood on the end table next to the secondhand armchair. Darius made a beeline for the books in the particle-board bookcase against the wall.

  Dust motes swam through the air. The done-in wood floor hadn’t gotten any nicer or fancier since I’d left.

  “Wait,” Darius said in a hush, barely interrupting the silence. He had a knack for reading the mood of a room.

  I turned toward him as he stepped back from the bookcase. He gazed at me with intense eyes.

  “Six of these books are in your shelves at home.”

  “Obviously. Everyone needs their own copies of the greats. Jane Eyre, Pride and Prejudice, Wuthering Heights—some books need constant re-reads.”

  “Shadows?”

  I shrugged in embarrassment. “I was a member of John Saul’s fan club back in the day. In my teens I probably read every book he ever put out. I loved fantasy-horror. I found that one at a thrift shop, signed. You don’t throw away signed books by your favorite author.”

  “Yes, of course.” He looked back at the bookshelf. I will read every one of these books, he thought, and I knew it wasn’t a comment for me. He just wasn’t shielding the thought.

  I rolled my eyes and couldn’t help a soft smile, my heart glowing despite the circumstances. He’d do it because he wanted to learn more about my past in a way he knew I loved. And I’d read along with him to share the moment.

  “I hate you,” I said, just because it was a nice change from saying, I love you.

  “Ditto,” he replied, coming my way, playing along.

  He gave me a poignant look as he took my hand.

  Here we go, I thought, and made sure to keep a very tight lockdown on my emotions. He was blameless. He deserved none of my ill mood.

  I pushed through the door-less frame into the teeny-tiny kitchen, the countertops a relic from the sixties, the cupboards not big enough to hold half the food Darius’s people brought to my current house. Everything looked as I’d left it, except for the badly worn circular table.

  My mouth dropped open.

  A stack of gold bricks covered the four-person table, arranged in the form of a pyramid, reaching up toward the ceiling. I could still see dirt clinging to their edges.

  The sliding glass doors leading out to the garden were covered with heavy drapes, and the kitchen window barely let any light past the hanging sheet that we’d meant to replace with actual shades for years. I couldn’t tell if it was real gold.

  “I’ll explain that in a moment,” Darius whispered into the hush. He tried to pull me toward the sliding glass door.

  “Is that…gold?” I asked, trying to get closer and peer through the gloom.

  “Yes. Please, let me explain in a moment.”

  I let him pull me along, craning my head to stare at the table.

  “Who… Did you put that there?” I asked softly. “Was that left by the guy that was going to tear this place down?”

  “Neither.” He waved his hand and then reached into the drapery and pulled open the sliding glass door. Fresh air fluttered the fabric, washing across my face. “Come.”

  I frowned and followed him out. This was not like him. He might subtly stuff my bank account with funds or leave money out where he knew I’d find and likely steal it, but he did not leave stacks of precious commodities out for me to deal with. He’d think it lazy. If he wanted to give me gold, he’d establish a safety deposit box or something, furnish me with the key, directions to it, and probably a market report on the price of gold.

  Actually, come to think of it, nothing about this was his normal way of doing things. I wasn’t surprised he’d kept the old furniture—he’d understand my sentimental need for it to be the same—but it wasn’t like him to leave it dirty.

  Perplexed by his behavior and his choice to leave the drapes closed, I nonetheless stepped through with him. A face full of dust and a musty smell that broke my heart later, we stepped onto the creaky back porch. The boards should’ve been changed out years ago. Years and years ago. It was a safety hazard at this point, not that it mattered.

  A thatch of gnarled bushes rose just beyond the porch, choking the backyard. They looked unchanged, other than their size. This had never been the part of the yard my mother had cared about.

  He sauntered with me to the edge of the porch, apparently not worried that one wrong footfall might send him plummeting through the boards. The stairs at the side had crumbled away, leaving gaping holes of jagged wooden teeth hellbent on breaking an ankle.

  “Get us down?” Darius asked.

  “Why are we here?” I asked again, hovering us to the weed-covered dirt.

  He didn’t answer as we strolled along the little path toward the tree line. A million memories pushed to the forefront of my mind, jockeying for position. My mother and I strolling down this very path, similar to what Darius and I were doing. Sometimes bickering about what was going wrong with my magic. Me running and tripping, skinning my knee and crying. Mom hadn’t kissed it better and cooed—she’d made me walk into the bathroom and then sit still while she applied stinging antiseptic.

  “She never coddled me,” I said as we wound along the path. It seemed strange that the overgrown bushes hadn’t impinged on the path and crowded our progress. “She never babied me. As far back as I can remember, she was mostly indifferent to my cuts and scrapes. She patched them up like a doctor and marshaled me on.”

  “She probably knew you’d need to be tough for the life ahead of you.”

  A lump formed in my throat. Hindsight, as they said. Even while hiding me, she’d been training me for the life that she knew I was bound to walk into. I wondered if she’d known how special my magic would be. Or that I would be adaptable to the Underworld.

  Maybe she’d prepared me just in case. She’d been a planner—genes that had skipped me.

  We turned a corner in the brush, right before the trees, and an explosion of emotion stopped me short.

  The unruly brush cleared away, and a scene plucked from my memories rose before me. The garden was so similar to the one I’d seen in the Underworld, only this one was perfect. The white lattice, a little worse for wear because of the weather, arched high above us, crawling with fragrant, blooming roses. It extended over the pathway, blue sky peeking through the tops even though it wasn’t day.

  “How…”

  Managed but still unruly plants lined the sides of the path and a swarm of flowers blanketed the grounds. Beautiful chaos, enhanced to make the biggest possible impact.

  The emotion welled up into small sobs.

  Romulus had been here.

  I couldn’t pinpoint the proof, but wasn’t that proof in itself?

  The little gaps in my mind had been filled in with the kind of beautiful details only achievable by a master. I remembered all the colors, for example. The scents. But I didn’t remember exactly which flowers he’d used. My father had filled in the details, and it had been similar to what I remembered—a mess of color.

  This wasn’t a mess. Although the flowers were everywhere, they gave the impression of a sort of soft, beautiful design leading the eye along until it ended at the repainted and repaired gazebo beyond. The bushes on the sides were natural, not magical or altered, but healthy enough that their vibrant colors showed through. They had been trimmed, I saw now, but not groomed. Not at all. The branches still stuck out in all directions, shaggy and shabby, but of a height that lent a certain youth to the garden. A freshness. It looked like it would’ve in my childhood, not like a place that had been abandoned to years of neglect.

  I couldn’t speak. This wasn’t like in the Und
erworld, where Lucifer’s garden had made me steep in memories of my mother and pushed me toward Cahal. This time love thrummed through me, coloring everything I saw and stripping away the pain of her passing.

  “This is perfect,” I croaked out, clutching Darius. My eyes moved over those beautiful flowers, an explosion of color and fragrance. An environment where plants could proliferate and thrive without rules or restrictions. This was probably what she’d been trying for.

  “Romulus nailed it,” I said, bowing with emotion. “My mother would’ve absolutely loved this. She would’ve lost her mind over it. I wish she could see it.”

  “Ah. You’ve ferreted me out. I should also mention that we are trespassing.”

  “You didn’t buy it?”

  “No. I didn’t know how you’d feel about that.”

  Tears dripped off my jaw line. “How the fuck do you always manage to be so perfect?”

  “I’m a vicious beast that exists because of stealing blood from mortals. I hardly think perfection is one of my attributes.”

  “I’m not mortal.”

  “Are we sure about that?”

  “Yes. I overheard a conversation between Lucifer and Tatsu and pieced together the gist. I was dying like an immortal.”

  He flinched. “Please don’t mention that again. My guilt is hard to bear.”

  We wound around to the gazebo.

  “You did all this, but didn’t buy it? Why the restraint?”

  We stepped up into the enclosed space and looked out at the flowers for a moment, the beauty arresting me. He turned me to him, his hazel eyes like liquid gold. He slowly lowered to one knee.

  “Reagan Somerset, you are my everything. I cannot contemplate an existence without you in it.” He pulled a black velvet box from his pocket and opened it. Two bands twinkled up at me, one inlaid with rubies alternating with diamonds, and the other with sapphires. He was paying homage to the two halves of my magic in a way that would allow me to punch someone in the face without worrying about ruining the settings. “Would you do me the honor of marrying me?”