The Fire Within Series: Books 1 - 3

by Ella M. Lee

  I didn’t want that to happen with Daniel.

  When I arrived at Dan’s apartment, he was in the middle of shaping dough into buns. He eyed me warily when I came through the door, but he didn’t say anything.

  “Pineapple buns. Boh loh bao,” I said, attempting their name in Cantonese and likely butchering it, walking over to examine his work. Even unbaked, I recognized their distinctive shape and sugary yellow topping.

  “My mom used to make them all the time,” he said, his voice soft. “I haven’t had time to bake in a while. I’m usually better.”

  I put my arms around him. “They are beautiful,” I said, eyeing the perfectly shaped buns, remembering that I had eaten them before, in my first few days here.

  “Thanks,” he said. He smiled tentatively, leaning into my embrace.

  I always loved hugging Daniel. He was oddly solid and powerful for someone so fine boned, with ribbons of muscles and a ton of very impressive magic that always playfully grappled with mine when the two met.

  I let go after another few moments and leaned against the counter, watching him. “I’m sorry. I overreacted. Of course you can have breaks, and of course you shouldn’t have to tell me.”

  He started to speak, but I held up a hand.

  “It’s been hard for me, starting over here,” I said. “Not having a single friend, or even a single familiar face. No one who knows what books I’ve read, or my favorite color, or that I love to watch figure skating competitions, or that I really hate crunchy peanut butter. You all lost a group member in Vienna—that’s my fault, and I hate it, I really do—but I lost my whole life. I had everything taken away. Every possession, every person I knew, every plan and dream I had for myself, everything I loved. I thought you of all people would understand that.”

  I paused. Daniel was watching me now, his gaze serious.

  “You’ve been so nice and so friendly that I forgot we’ve only been close to each other for weeks and not years,” I said. “I have so little in my life that I forgot I’m only a tiny part of yours. So I was hurt when you left, when it was clear I didn’t even warrant a text telling me that you were okay. I was leaning on you too much, getting my hopes too high, and suddenly I was jealous that other things were more important to you than me. That I’m just your job, something you went on vacation to get away from.”

  I used a palm to dash my tears away. I closed my eyes, avoiding the pained look on Daniel’s face.

  He wrapped his arms around me, shaking his head. “It’s not like that, Fi. You are not just my job.”

  I was trembling. I hadn’t even told Nicolas these fears, hadn’t let myself speak them aloud at all before now. But I felt very alone, still years away from truly having friends or family again. Relationships like that didn’t spring up overnight.

  “So... I’m sorry,” I whispered into him. “I’m not angry with you, not really. I have no right to be, since you don’t answer to me. I’m angry at what happened to me, that I was left in this position. I’m sorry I took it out on you.”

  “Are you really so unhappy here?” Daniel asked me, pulling back to study my face, his eyes concerned.

  “Not unhappy,” I said, looking away. “Not that. Just… alone. Alone isn’t new to me. Alone can be good. Alone can build strength and wisdom. But sometimes I just don’t want to feel so alone.”

  My trembling increased. I had a terrible tendency to completely melt down if I let even the tiniest crack make its way down the surface of my emotions. Daniel withdrew his arms from around my shoulders.

  “Here,” he said, turning me so I was in front of the tray of half-prepared buns. He put a brush in my hand and showed me how to paint beaten egg yolk across the sugar-butter topping of the bun, his fingers deftly guiding mine.

  “Gentle…” he murmured as I pressed too hard and ruined the side of one of his perfect buns.

  The work required speed and precision. It only took a minute to paint all twelve buns, but that minute was all I needed to repair the spiderweb of cracks threatening to destroy me. He had somehow known to distract me, had known I needed that. He knew me so well.

  Daniel popped the tray in the oven and set a timer.

  “Listen,” he said, “I am sorry. I don’t have a lot of people in my life who care what I do and where I go. I didn’t forget about you, not at all. I really thought you wouldn’t care. That was a mistake. I didn’t know it would hurt you to not hear from me. I thought, I don’t know, I thought you’d be happy. Don’t you want a break from me and my demands?”

  “You left me to train with Nicolas, you jerk!” I said, but I cracked a smile because I couldn’t help it.

  “Oh! Nicolas trained with you? Sorry,” Dan said, and he had the good grace to look sympathetic.

  “Just… tell me next time?”

  “I will, I promise. You are not just my job. Some people in our group, sure, but not you. We are friends. We are family.”

  “Friends,” I echoed weakly. “Family.”

  He hesitated, looking away momentarily. “My only friend, really. You may not believe me, but I was thinking about you.”

  I gave him a skeptical look. Before I could say anything, he held up a hand to cut me off.

  “I’ll prove it. I brought you something! I was in Hokkaido. In Japan, bringing gifts back with you after a trip is a big deal.”

  He went to the fridge and pulled out a pale-green box. Inside the box, nestled carefully among tissue paper and foam, was the most gorgeous green-skinned melon I had ever seen. It looked plump and huge and perfectly round.

  “It’s a Yubari King melon,” he told me. “Hokkaido is famous for them, but you can’t really get good ones outside of Japan.”

  I glanced between the beautiful melon and his hopeful, pleading look. I sighed.

  “Forgiven?” he asked, pouting. “Pretty please?”

  “Yes, forgiven, forgiven!” I said, laughing.

  We destroyed the entire melon—which was perfectly sweet and delicious—and a couple of Dan’s pineapple buns and were lounging on the couch side by side when he said, “My vacation wasn’t entirely vacation, you know.”

  “You were supposed to be recovering and relaxing,” I admonished.

  “I am recovered! And relaxed!”

  “So you were doing work while away?” I asked, wrinkling my nose.

  “Only a little,” he said. “You know we’re going to need a new location when we make a new clan. We can’t stay in Hong Kong, at least not in the beginning. We have to start somewhere else.”

  “I know,” I said, frowning. “But this is your home, Nicolas’s home.”

  “It will become very, very dangerous as a newly formed clan. Water owns the city, and Wild, Smoke, and Meteor have significant presences.”

  “Japan?”

  “It fits. Only Wind has a significant presence there. It’s old, with a lot of history and mysticism to cover our tracks. It’s still close to the allies we do have here in Asia, and several of us in the group speak Japanese.”

  “Hokkaido,” I said, trying out the word. “The northern island of Japan.”

  “Wind’s presence is mostly in Tokyo and Sendai. Hokkaido is nice, but I don’t think it’s right. Too remote, even with Keisha’s abilities,” he said, shaking his head. “So I’ve decided you and I are going on a trip together, Fi.”

  I sat up, interested. “A trip?”

  “Yeah. Field work. More fun than a recovery operation, with way less risk,” he said, smiling.

  “Where are we going?”

  His grin was radiant. “My favorite city: Osaka.”

  Chapter 12

  “I see the two of you have made up,” Nicolas said, his lips quirking into a smile as he let us into his apartment.

  “Better than that! We’re eloping!” Daniel cried, throwing his arms around me and kissing my cheek exaggeratedly.

  “Congratulations to the happy couple,” Nicolas drawled, rolling his eyes.

  After this morning, n
othing could keep me from you, I thought at him. He winked at me.

  “Where’s the honeymoon?” Nicolas asked.

  “Osaka!” Daniel said.

  “I was wondering when you’d beg to explore that option,” Nicolas replied, smiling.

  I knew we had moved out of jokes and on to business. Nicolas sat on the couch with his arms crossed. I went to sit next to him. We all knew how much Daniel liked Japan. If he had a second home, it would be there. It was no surprise he wanted to consider it for our new clan’s location.

  “It hits all the checkboxes,” Daniel said, “but I don’t know what clans are around there. I want to check it out, and I think Fi should come with me. It’s time she went on a real operation, one with planning and formalities.”

  Nicolas was silent for a moment, then he looked at me. “You want to go?”

  “I do,” I said.

  “I’ll bring her back in one piece,” Daniel promised. “This is low risk. No engagement with any other clans, just checking the place out. We’ll stay together at all times.”

  “How many days?” Nicolas asked Daniel.

  “Four or five?”

  Nicolas closed his eyes, scanning briefly for visions. Eventually, he opened his eyes again and nodded.

  “All right,” he said. “I’ll leave it to the two of you. All the normal precautions, Dan.”

  “Of course,” Daniel said, pulling out his phone and heading for the door. “Start packing, Fi! I’ll book a honeymoon suite and see when Keisha can port us in.”

  He winked at me and was gone in an instant. I leaned into Nicolas, stretching out against him.

  “Shouldn’t you be packing?” he asked playfully, his hands on me.

  “He won’t leave without me. The guilt is still too strong.”

  “Did you two work things out?”

  “Yeah, we’re good,” I said. “I apologized, he apologized. He said I was his only friend. That can’t be true, can it?”

  Nicolas grimaced. “He probably feels that way. He’s personable and well-liked, but every member of our group is his subordinate, and he treats most of them as such. I don’t encourage relationships across groups, so he tends to be rather aloof when interacting outside of our people. It’s not a surprise he feels close to you. He could befriend you before you joined my group, when you were still in a strange sort of limbo.”

  “I don’t know what I’d do without Daniel. I don’t think I would have been able to succeed in getting into your group. I’m not even sure I would have wanted to. You were frightening. Dan was not.”

  “I did that intentionally,” Nicolas said, letting his fingers trail over my body. “Kept my distance, let Daniel be kind to you. I knew you’d feel more comfortable with him.”

  “Must have been a surprise to realize I had feelings for you,” I said.

  “You have no idea,” he said, smiling. “I thought Daniel would steal your heart. He’s too endearing for his own good.”

  My mind could barely comprehend his words with his hands distracting me so skillfully. My heart sped up under his touch, and I closed my eyes in pleasure.

  “Enough about Daniel,” I said, as Nicolas’s hands explored under my shirt, making my breath catch.

  “Yes,” he agreed. “I’d rather hear my name from your lips.”

  “Nicolas,” I breathed.

  “Again,” he said, dumping me on my back and sliding on top of me. Our lips met, his tongue touching mine for a moment.

  “Nicolas,” I said more firmly. His hands slid down my body.

  “Good girl,” he said playfully. “Shall we have a bit more fun before you disappear for five days?”

  “Yes, please,” I whispered.

  Daniel and I left the next morning. I had packed hastily the night before, looking up the weather in Osaka and frantically pawing through my limited wardrobe. I’d never been to Japan, so I was excited.

  Before Daniel and I went off to meet Keisha, we stopped by Ryan’s apartment, where he gave me a block-sync to cancel out my magical signal and make me appear mortal.

  The block-sync was a lovely metal ring, slim and dark, similar to the ones Nicolas and Daniel owned. Ryan showed me how it worked, watching me activate it carefully.

  “This is yours now,” he said. “Do not lose it. It takes a month to craft one of these, and it’s worth more than you are.”

  I looked down at the little loop of metal with wide eyes, and Ryan laughed.

  “Be careful, Fiona,” he said kindly. “Listen to Daniel.”

  “Always,” I replied.

  Ryan’s consideration touched me. I knew nothing was compelling him to be nice; he genuinely liked me.

  Nicolas had loaned me a backpack, and I hoisted it over my shoulder, following Daniel to Keisha’s apartment one floor down. She was waiting for us, excited.

  “Okay, this will put you out in a maintenance hallway in Osaka Station. I already scoped it out. I have you planned for return in five days. Let me know if that changes, and I’ll shift some stuff around,” she said, starting the steps for a portal.

  I watched her concentrated expression until the portal shimmered in front of us, stable and waiting.

  She hugged me. “You’ll have so much fun. Osaka is amazing! Have Daniel take you out for okonomiyaki!”

  Before I could ask what that was, Daniel took my hand and pulled me through the portal’s foggy blue pane of magic.

  It seemed like Dan was trying hard to make up to me on our trip to Osaka. He was effusive in his love of the city, and he enjoyed showing it to me.

  Our “work” was more like a vacation than not. It was basically a lot of walking around Osaka and the surrounding cities, subtly running searches and scans for magic users or magical activity. Daniel had boundless energy, especially for someone who had nearly died the week before. We walked everywhere, dozens of miles per day, all around Osaka, Kyoto, Nara, Kobe, and several other smaller cities in the region.

  Our work had no time limits or constraints, which meant we could pause to stop in every interesting shop or restaurant we desired. Daniel had told me Osaka’s nickname was “the kitchen of Japan,” and it lived up to that. We ate sushi, yakitori, curry, takoyaki, okonomiyaki, ramen, and handmade soba, each dish more delicious than the one before. Japan’s love of sweets was evident in every towering parfait and handsomely crafted mochi dessert, and my eyes caught on almost everything I saw. Although we usually “worked” nights as well, one of the evenings we got drunk at an izakaya—a Japanese pub—indulging in expensive sake along with delicious fried snacks.

  It had taken approximately six hours for me to begin sorely missing Nicolas, and I texted him pictures of food and temples constantly. He was playful and flirty in response, promising me trips to Thailand and Vietnam and Singapore if I wanted. I couldn’t wait to be in his arms again.

  Osaka slumbered in the morning, slow to wake, and we did the same. We would lay around in bed, drinking tea, eating snacks, and exchanging stories from our childhoods. Daniel had never been to the Midwestern United States, where I grew up, and he asked endless questions. I considered my life before Flame boring, but Daniel didn’t think so. He wanted to hear about the landscape, the animals, and whether small-town life in the United States was like how it was shown on television.

  I felt the same way about his upbringing. Once I got over the awkwardness of asking about being an orphaned street urchin, I found he would tell me outrageous stories about him and his brother. Hong Kong was gritty and exciting through his eyes, and I understood him better each day.

  Dan’s fluent Japanese made our time in Osaka easy. He seemed much older than his twenty years as he expertly guided us around the region, recounted the history of various places, talked us into tiny exclusive teahouses, and spent time teaching me about clan activity in Asia.

  We hadn’t found any evidence of a strong clan presence in Osaka or the surrounding areas, which delighted Daniel. We had explored cautiously, sifting through all sorts of ma
gical signals, using our block-syncs almost all the time. Still, neither of us detected anything more than residual traces of power or the passing magician. Our hotel near Osaka Station, in fact, had one staying there.

  “Verdant,” Daniel had declared dismissively.

  Verdant Clan was pacifist, and they rarely bothered anyone. We also knew their main bases of operation to be Xi’an, Taipei, Stockholm, and Rio de Janeiro. It was unlikely this Verdant magician was doing anything other than passing through or taking a vacation like us.

  Daniel took our trip as an opportunity to teach me how to document our group’s operations. I filed all the paperwork that Nicolas insisted upon, writing summaries of our research and sending them via encrypted paths to Teng. Daniel had complimented my writing skills, tearing himself away from consuming countless manga magazines for a scant few minutes to read my work.

  Dan had an amazing capacity for being quiet when he put his mind to it. We talked a lot as we explored, but we also had long stretches of comfortable silence. I caught up on some reading on our many train rides, and it truly was a relaxing trip.

  Daniel liked Osaka quite a bit for our purposes. Since it was possible we’d move there, we also toured some property and checked out housing prices. Dan posed as a Japanese citizen—he somehow had a valid Japanese passport—and spent a whole day having long conversations with real estate agents about property on the outskirts of the city. I followed him mutely from office to office and did a lot of smiling and nodding.

  Although we had adjacent rooms at our hotel, on our last night in Osaka, I stayed in Daniel’s room. I turned off the lights and crawled under the duvet next to him, feeling exhausted but pleased. We had walked nearly twenty-five miles that day and ended the evening once again with a lot of sake.

  “Fi?” he asked, his voice muffled by the blankets.