Ignite (Midnight Fire Series Book One)

by Kaitlyn Davis

A week later, Kira opened her locker to see a portrait of herself leaning against her textbooks. She grabbed the small paper that held a close-up of her face, with a dusting of light curls around the edges, and knew it was a message from Tristan. She turned the paper over to read the note scribbled in cursive on the back.

  "Meet me in the auditorium at lunchtime."

  She noticed he didn’t even sign his name, like he knew she had been waiting for a sign from him. She, of course, had been waiting. But still, the arrogance of assuming he was the only guy who would leave her a note! Kira didn’t care though, because just like in Charleston, Tristan had been the one to break the silence, which meant he really couldn’t resist her either.

  "What’s that?" Emma had snuck behind Kira without her noticing.

  Kira turned, clutching at her chest. "Good lord, you just gave me a heart attack."

  "Sorry," Emma said without really meaning it as she tried to peer closer at the paper Kira had quickly stuffed inside her binder. She didn’t want to share Tristan’s drawing, but she would definitely tell Emma what it said.

  "Let’s just say our little scheme worked, and I won’t be at lunch today." Kira tried to play it cool and not give away how excited she was.

  "Ooh, scandalous. Was that a love note?" Emma looked dreamy eyed.

  "I don’t know, but I’m willing to try to find out," Kira said before slamming her locker closed and following Emma to class where the gossip was quickly overtaken by the need to pay attention to their teacher’s lecture on differential equations.

  When lunch rolled around, Kira dodged the crowd and went in the opposite direction toward the auditorium on the complete other side of the school. She arrived before Tristan and walked past the rows of chairs up toward the stage where the set for the December musical White Christmas was being prepared. Her school in New York only allowed secular performances, and she did kind of like that people got into the Christmas spirit here. Of course, it was the middle of October, so really only the drama crew had reached the point of singing Christmas carols, but she could anticipate how crazy school would be right after Thanksgiving.

  In the middle of the stage, a half-painted Christmas tree stood surrounded by boxes cutout like presents, but not decorated. There was a piano in the corner and a costume rack held forties style dresses and suits for the actors. Kira scrambled on stage and walked around the yards of fake pine and tinsel that already covered it.

  "Mistletoe?" Tristan called from behind. She turned in time to see him jump deftly onto the stage.

  "I hadn’t noticed." Kira tried to play it cool. Tristan pulled a strand of green plastic leaves from his pocket with a smirk. "I knew there had to be a reason you wanted to meet here. But you’ll have to catch me first." Kira teased and started backing away.

  His smirk turned into the half-smile she loved and a little dimple sprouted on his cheek. Tristan strode confidently forward, and when he got a little closer, Kira jumped behind the fake tree to use it as a defensive wall, moving left when he did and right when he did. She laughed when his frustration grew and jumped out from behind the tree to try to leap off the stage, moving the chase into different territory. But strong arms gripped around her waist, lifted her off the ground, and swung her around in circles.

  "You’re mine now," he whispered into her ear, and Kira couldn’t decide if the shiver that raced down her back was full of excitement or fear. He let her feet drop to the ground, and she turned in the circle of his arms.

  "Changed your mind about that we-can-never-be nonsense?" She smiled in victory.

  "Not completely, but you are doing a great job convincing me." Tristan lifted the corner of his mouth again and she laid her hand on his cheek, capturing the dimple in her palm, before sliding it up into his hair, pushing his ebony bangs back so she could see his eyes better.

  "You have to tell me something first," Kira said, pausing. Tristan nodded, looking at her with concern and she almost thought a hint of dread. Kira bit her lip, thinking about how to phrase her question. "What happened when you looked at me before, in class I mean? I swear I couldn’t move and then something happened to me that I didn’t understand. And I know you know." She held his face still, making sure he didn’t look away to hide his secrets again.

  Tristan hesitated for a moment. His face was frozen in a grimace—the expression of someone with nowhere left to run.

  "I do know." He sighed, and Kira thought it sounded as though a weight that had been holding him in place had suddenly been lifted free. "There’s something about me… about who, no what, I am that you need to know, and Luke will have to fill you in on the rest. I’m so tired of hiding, Kira." Anguish was written all over his face, and she let her hand fall to his chest, to his heart, trying to give him some comfort in what he was going to admit. "I’m—"

  A clapping sound interrupted Tristan, causing both of them to spin, searching for the source. It came from the back row of the auditorium where Diana, John, and Jerome sat with grins on their faces. When Kira and Tristan finally noticed them, the three intruders stood and strode down the aisle slowly, with complete confidence, clapping at a leisurely pace and staring only at Tristan.

  Fear trickled down Kira's spine. She didn’t understand what was going on or the more than venomous looks on his friends’ faces.

  "Well done, Tristan. You had even me believing that performance." Diana gracefully jumped on stage in one smooth motion that shocked Kira. Jerome and John stopped clapping and followed suit.

  "Don’t listen to a word they say, and please stay behind me," Tristan whispered to Kira as he turned around to face his friends. "This isn’t what it seems," he told his friends in a confident voice Kira hoped he wasn’t faking.

  "And what is it?" Jerome’s deep voice seemed to reverberate off the walls.

  "I brought her here to talk and that’s it." Tristan angled himself in front of Kira, as his friends closed in on them.

  "To talk? And what, if I may ask, do you possibly have to talk about?" Diana sneered and walked closer to Tristan, stopping barely a foot away from him. John and Jerome came up beside her, and Kira hoped she was forgotten as they continued to stare at Tristan.

  "You may not ask," Tristan replied coldly.

  "Then I demand," Diana hissed.

  Tristan tensed in front of her. A few seconds of strained silence passed before he suddenly started laughing very obviously in Diana’s face. Kira thought he had gone mad. Surely there was nothing funny about this situation, and she watched as his friends’ faces darkened with anger.

  "Demand? Diana, you get ahead of yourself. You know you can’t threaten me." Tristan used his height to look down at her, proving his dominance.

  "Maybe I can’t alone, but even you can’t take on three-to-one odds." Diana angled herself back, so she, Jerome, and John looked like one solid, impenetrable wall.

  John and Jerome shuffled their feet, getting ready to move at a seconds notice. Kira hoped it wouldn't become a fight. She had no idea Tristan’s friends would react so harshly to seeing them together. For a moment, she wondered if she had done the right thing in trying to pursue him. Maybe it would have been better for him to draw her in secret and for her to move on, never knowing what could have been. But Kira knew it was too late for those thoughts.

  The fight she expected didn’t start. Instead, John placed his hand on Diana’s shoulder. "Perhaps we should let him explain," he questioned, relieving some tension.

  Diana nodded, not breaking her gaze. "Can you explain, Tristan? Why are you here with this girl when we said we would kill her together or not at all? When we said we would wait and watch to see how much she knew?"

  Kill? Kira sucked in her breath. They thought he meant to kill her? They had all planned to kill her?

  "I was greedy, I admit," Tristan began.

  Kira could hardly believe her ears. He couldn’t have meant to kill her. They had met here because he wanted to be with her, or that’s what she'd thought
at least. Kira backed up a few feet, away from him. After all, how much did she really know about Tristan? What if he had been fooling her all along, fooling her into falling for him so she would be easier to catch? But why did he even want to catch her or to maybe kill her? None of it made any sense.

  Tristan started speaking again, and Kira tried to shut her questioning mind down to listen. "I wanted the power for myself, and for that I apologize. Let’s go and forget this happened. Let’s go to a different town, one not swarming with conduits to confuse us and place us against each other."

  Conduits? What were conduits and why would they try to split Tristan from his friends? And what power?

  Kira looked at Diana and saw one very prominently raised eyebrow, displaying her doubt. The black-haired beauty didn’t believe Tristan’s story. But, Kira noticed, it wasn't the killing or the conduits she questioned, but Tristan’s belief in his own words.

  For the first time since moving to Charleston, Kira wasn’t sure if she wanted all of the answers, especially to the question of Tristan’s real intent. She couldn’t believe the kiss had been a lie, but what if he was just a very good actor? She had heard it in his voice during class. He could play the part of Romeo extremely well so why not that of seducer?

  "Tristan?" Kira couldn’t help herself, she had to ask, to know what was happening. She was scared of his friends and maybe of him too. She needed reassurance that she would be safe with him.

  Tristan looked back at her, silently begging her to be quiet, and Kira instantly knew she had made a mistake. All eyes turned in her direction, hunger clearly written on their faces. She watched the transformation as all of their eyes, even Tristan’s, turned to a crystal blue. Their pupils expanded and their top lips began to puff. It was the same look Tristan had had back in the classroom—but now Kira understood that his look was meant to keep her away, and this look was meant to kill. Fear raced through her veins. She had never felt so much like prey.

  Time stopped as Diana took another step closer to Tristan without taking her eyes from Kira. She leaned over and whispered in Tristan’s ear while running her hand down his arm, "If you came here to kill, by all means, take the first bite."

  Tristan closed his eyes slowly, and Kira read pain there. Despite his best effort, she also saw a trace of hunger in his expression, leading her to wonder just how much control Tristan had lost, not only over his friends but also over himself.

  Diana, John, and Jerome all stared at Tristan, waiting for him to move toward her. They hunched over on their toes, ready to pounce, and she saw the desire for the fight in their eyes. It was a challenge, that much was obvious. It was also obvious that Tristan was losing.

  Kira couldn't process anything fast enough—killing and biting and conduits. She felt as though she was on stage in a play but had forgotten all of her lines. She backed away because her gut told her to go, but she couldn't go far because her heart told her not to leave him. Tristan mouthed to her, and at first she didn’t see what he said, but after a second time Kira made out one word.

  Run.

  The next instant, Tristan turned and used both of his hands to shove all of his weight and strength into Diana’s stomach. Kira gasped as the other girl flew through the air, landed in the seats below the stage, and stood after a second without a scratch. Diana jumped impossibly far and, in one leap, was back on the stage to face Tristan.

  Tristan wasn’t waiting for her though. Kira tried to follow his movements but could only see Jerome fly into the stage curtain and John slam into the wall, causing the brick to crack apart. By the time Diana had returned from her initial punch, only seconds had passed, but Tristan was ready and punched her again, sending Diana toward the back of the room once more.

  To Kira's right, Jerome tore through the curtain and reemerged with death in his icy blue eyes. He charged Tristan, only to be picked up and shoved head first through the stage floor, creating a hole in the wood. Jerome reached his hands beside the hole and pushed his head from the floor. Instead of a bloodied mess, he emerged untouched by the landing.

  Kira was frozen.

  Unable to move.

  Unable to look away.

  She had known that Tristan had secrets, but watching him now made her realize she never should have tried to uncover them. He wasn’t human, none of them could be. Vibrations rumbled through her as their bodies slammed into the walls and the ground, causing the entire auditorium to shake from its very foundations. Not wanting to attract attention, she continued to watch as Tristan stood like a titan, throwing his friends around as though they were dolls. The building started to fissure with the force. Kira saw dents where their bodies smacked, and she slowly backed away while their attentions were on each other rather than her.

  When she reached the backstage door, Kira turned her body to face away from the battle and groped for the handle. It was her only chance to get away and find Luke. Somehow, she was sure that he would understand what was happening—that this was the gruesome revelation he had been warning her about. If she didn’t leave now, Kira wasn’t certain she would be able to escape with her life.

  But just as she slipped her hand around the door handle, a loose brick hit her in the leg, slamming her into the wall and almost knocking her unconscious. Kira fell to the ground and suddenly there was silence.

  All four of the misfits stared at her. She touched her thigh, felt the warm liquid seeping from a newly formed cut in her leg, and met Tristan’s eye. Now his hunger was obvious, and the sliver of his iris that was still visible began to glow blue. Kira shook her head, unable to comprehend the horror story she had just become a part of.

  With Tristan still under the spell of his own wants, his friends jumped him. Jerome and John grabbed his arms, twisting them and breaking each one before pulling them securely behind his back. Kira tried to stand and run away now that she couldn't hide, but Diana got to her impossibly fast and pulled Kira’s hair to stop her. Kira screamed at the pain and Tristan jolted awake, struggling to escape his friends and ignoring the pain from his crooked arms.

  "Not so fast," Diana said into Kira’s ear as she dragged her around to face the boys. Jerome and John pulled Tristan back to the stage and Diana forced Kira to face him, but Kira wouldn’t meet his gaze. Diana let her go, but she knew there would be no point to even try to run.

  "She’s pathetic, Tristan," Diana spat. "She couldn’t fight. She doesn’t know what she is. She couldn’t even run away properly. And this is what you fancy yourself in love with?" Diana circled around to face Kira, and Kira met her cold, almost crystal, eyes with the little courage she had left.

  "Diana," Tristan growled.

  "Shut him up," Diana yelled back, revealing the depth of her anger, and Kira watched as Jerome held Tristan while John ripped his shirt to gag him.

  "Your faux confidence is amusing," Diana said and grabbed hold of Kira’s chin. "I’d rather see you beg though."

  Kira remained silent.

  Diana slapped her across the face, and she fell to the ground holding her cheek, knowing it would bruise but trying to ignore the pain. "Have you figured it out yet, little Kira? What we are? How you’ll die?"

  Kira looked at Tristan. Her leg had almost stopped bleeding. She wondered if it would clear his head. Was it her or her blood that called to him? Kira looked at Diana and saw her smile. She finally noticed the two pointed teeth sticking slightly over her lip, and Kira couldn’t help but wonder when monsters had become a reality.

  Kira was amazed at her own eerie calm and acceptance of the situation. Vampires? she thought, silently answering Diana. And as the word circled in her head, she knew it was true—the blood, the teeth, and the strength. But she thought of them on the beach, basking in the sunlight, thought of the humanity in Tristan’s eyes when he had looked at her in the steeple, and wondered what from the stories was really true.

  Kira looked at Diana, at the smug look on her face that already spoke of victory. If she was
going to die anyway, she might as well go out with a bang, Kira decided and thought of a retort. "You, Diana? I think you’re a jealous bitch who can’t take the fact that Tristan cares about a mere human more than he’s ever cared about you. You’re the pathetic one," she said calmly.

  Pain flashed across Diana’s face, but it quickly turned to anger. Kira was confident that her words had hit home, but maintained a neutral expression so she didn't give away how much the little victory meant and how scared she truly was.

  Diana grabbed Kira by the neck and picked her up off the floor, so her feet rested an inch in the air. Kira started choking from the lack of oxygen. "You are nothing," Diana spat in Kira’s face, and then set her back down on her toes.

  But before Kira had settled on her feet, Diana’s hand whipped forward and her fingernail sliced a long line across Kira’s cheek. Diana slowly ran her finger along the cut and pulled it back so Kira could see the blood on her finger. And then she brought the blood close to her mouth, sniffing it, and a flash of longing passed over her eyes.

  Repulsed, Kira looked away—a mistake that gave Diana an advantage to use.

  "Do you think he’s different, Kira?" Diana glanced at the blood on her finger. "Do you think he doesn’t thirst for you like I do? That he’s kind and gentle? Well, he’s not."

  Diana moved to the trapped Tristan, who had a look of dread on his face. She walked closer, and Tristan couldn’t tear his gaze away from Kira’s blood on her finger. He struggled, trying to, eventually managing to look instead at the floor.

  But Diana grabbed his face with one hand to hold it steady, removed his gag, and let her finger wander up to rest on his lips. Tristan tried not to move his mouth, tried not to taste her blood. Diana rubbed her finger clean on his closed lips and waited, like she knew he wouldn’t be able to resist.

  Tristan shook from the exertion of trying not to open his mouth, of trying to resist the innate urge to lick the blood clean from his lips. Kira wanted to look away, but she needed to see this, she needed to knock her feelings for Tristan right out of her head.

  Before long, Tristan eyes met Kira's with a look full of pain and guilt and self-loathing. Then he slowly opened his mouth to stick out his tongue and swallow. Kira saw pleasure flash across his features, saw the slight glow in his eyes, and knew the image would stay with her for a long time.

  Meanwhile, Diana clapped at her own ingenuity, like a five-year-old playing with Barbie dolls, and walked back to Kira. She slid her finger along Kira’s cheek and took her own taste. Kira saw nothing but pleasure in her eyes, and that was how she still knew Tristan was different. Not guilt free or perfect or even good, but certainly not the same level of evil as Diana's cold blue eyes that showed no ounce of remorse.

  Kira watched, helpless as Diana moved close again, and couldn’t look away as Diana held her gaze like Tristan had in class. A shiver of fear pierced her heart at the thought of the family she would miss, but she knew there was no way out. Soulless glowing blue eyes looked into hers with excitement, and Kira was paralyzed and helpless to stop it. Diana didn’t move closer for the kill, but instead remained still to enjoy watching Kira so powerless. A smile spread across her features, like she knew Kira didn’t know enough to escape.

  But then, in an almost comforting way, a surge of warmth filled her palms, just like before in the classroom. Instead of being scared at this unfamiliar feeling, Kira welcomed it. Welcomed her own power coming through, the heat funneling to her hands, and she knew she would be able to escape.

  Kira tried to move free of the hold but still couldn’t. The heat from her hands soon became too much. In Diana’s unfaltering stare, Kira knew she was still in danger. For a second she wondered if maybe Tristan had let her escape in the classroom, if he had known what was happening inside of her and knew how to stop it.

  Diana had no such concern.

  Kira started to feel as though she were burning from the inside out, as though her blood had turned to lava and was coursing through her body, destroying everything in its path. She started shaking. Diana mistook it for fear and laughed, but Kira barely heard the sound. She couldn’t stop the vibrations racking her body. The heat was excruciating. She began to scream.

  Tristan cried out, struggling against John and Jerome to try to save her. Kira didn’t register him. The pressure in her body grew. She was a bomb, ticking, ticking, ticking. And as Diana sank down to take her deadly bite, Kira finally exploded.

  All she felt was the release of the heat going away, seeping out of her. When the pain was almost gone, Kira opened her eyes to see fire streaming from her hands. Diana, John, Jerome, and Tristan were pressed against the back wall of the theater, held there by the light coming from her palms, unable to escape. Kira didn’t know how to turn it off. She didn’t know what was happening. Tristan's eyes filled with pain and fear, and Kira realized she was hurting him—destroying all of them. They were afraid of her. Powerless against her.

  Kira couldn’t move, could barely breathe. She just stared at her hands, unable to control anything. Different hands landed on her shoulders, shaking her, and she distantly heard someone screaming her name. But she was outside of herself, watching this scene as if it were a movie. She almost wanted Diana to feel pain and to die—she almost wanted to kill her.

  That thought snapped Kira back to reality.

  Blinking, she realized it was Luke who was standing before her. He shook her and called her name. Somehow she knew he understood what was happening. That he was like her. Part of her was mad he had never told her, but a much more prominent part of her knew she needed his help and was overjoyed to see him.

  "Kira, listen to me, you have to stop. You have to release them." He spoke calmly, with a commanding voice.

  "How?" she cried, not knowing how to turn it off, scaring herself.

  "Just close your fists and let go of the anger." He tried to soothe her and ran his hands up and down her arms.

  Kira listened to his words and attempted to let go of the fear of knowing how close she had come to death. She tried to let go of the anger at Diana for wanting to kill her, for torturing her and Tristan to do so. She tried to let go of the resentment at Tristan for giving in, for showing her that her trust in him might not have been worth it.

  But most of all, Kira tried to let go of the fury with herself, for not knowing who she was, for not being more demanding, for not being able to stop, for hurting Tristan, for feeling the urge to kill. And the fear, the fear was the worst. How could she let go of the self-fear—the fear of what she was and what she might be capable of?

  When Kira admitted all of this to herself, she felt a slight release, and though it took all of her strength, she slowly brought her fingers down to curl into her palm. Kira brought her thumb around to hold the light and trap it within her hands. Tendrils of fire tried to seep through the cracks between her fingers, but Kira held steady until finally the heat died and she was able to just let it go.

  She looked at the back wall where Diana, John, and Jerome jumped from the crevices they had been pressed into and ran from the room. Tristan dropped slowly down and gave her one more glance. In that instant, she realized he was right—they could never be. He looked at her one last time, with sadness and with fear, and followed his friends out the door.

  Kira knew he was different—she could see the humanity in his eyes where it was absent from his friends—but that wasn’t enough to make her chase after him.

  Instead, she looked at Luke—at his familiar eyes, friendly demeanor, and look of concern—and collapsed into his open arms as tears began to fall from her eyes.

  Chapter Seven