Fire and Fantasy: A Limited Edition Collection of Urban and Epic Fantasy

by CK Dawn

  I barely registered the pain that flickered across her face, but she was gone before I could apologize for my callousness.

  I went back to watching the apartment until I couldn't keep my eyes open any longer, then started my car and slowly drove home.

  My dad was wrong about me. He'd always said I was too selfish to fall in love, yet here I was. He'd been right about one thing, though, when he'd said no one would ever love me.

  I couldn't sleep, so I finally gave up, got my ass out of bed, and went shopping. We'd been out of food for a week and it seemed the only thing Alec lived on was coffee. I hadn't been in the mood to eat, so grocery shopping hadn't been a priority. That being said, anything was preferable to being alone in my empty apartment.

  It was just after sunrise on a Saturday and the streets were still empty. Normal people were sleeping, apparently. I parked in the nearly deserted parking lot, grateful for the twenty-four-hour grocery store in such a small town. Like a zombie, trying not to feel or think beyond what I needed to survive, I wandered up and down the aisles, pushing my cart like a little old woman. My dad would have mocked me. He had people to do his shopping. He said it wasn't a man's place. I straightened and pushed my cart a little prouder.

  He lived in an antiquated world, so focused on himself and his missions that he missed how things had evolved since he was a part of this world.

  I felt her before I saw her. Every sense seemed to come alive, and the smell of her lotion drew me from three aisles over. I came around the corner with my blood roaring in my ears, so desperate to see her I could barely breathe. Her long, golden-brown hair was piled on top of her head and she wore baggy sweats.

  Baggy, blood stained sweats.

  Her eyes, when she raised them, were red-rimmed from lack of sleep or from crying, I didn't know, but I wanted to break whatever could hurt her like that. Snap it in two and watch it scream.

  I was more like my father than I thought.

  And then I realized it was probably me that had caused it, and my self-loathing nearly overwhelmed me. I almost backed away, back to where she couldn't see me, couldn't pierce me with the hatred in her gaze. But I wasn't fast enough.

  "Bryson?" she whispered.

  "Hey." She had a cart just like I did, but it wasn't full of groceries. It was full of bandages, medical tape, wraps of all kinds and different ointments. "What's going on? Are you okay?"

  She sucked in a breath and I thought for the first time that maybe the crying wasn't on my part. Maybe I hadn't hurt her irrevocably. "I could lie," she said quietly. "And tell you it's for work."

  I came closer, hesitating with each step because I was afraid she'd run from me if I moved too quickly. "But you won't."

  Damn, but she was beautiful. Even in obvious distress, she took my breath away and wanting her nearly drove me to my knees. I couldn't see beyond her, like the world ceased to exist except for her.

  I had fallen. I'd fallen so hard and I didn't even regret it. My father was wrong. I could love. I could love with an all-consuming passion.

  "It's Navi. She's in trouble."

  I looked, horrified, at her basket. "This is for her? Where is she?"

  She pushed an escaped silken strand away from her face and shuddered. "She's home. Resting. But—whatever she's dealing with—these men she's dealing with—they're killing her, Bryson. She comes home with gaping wounds, weak from loss of blood. It's happening more and more often. I'm afraid—I'm afraid they're going to kill her."

  I thought back to my conversation with Navi the day before. She'd been fine. Not weak from blood loss, no gaping wounds. Not even the shadow of a bruise, just the overwhelming exhaustion she always faced. If these things were coming more often, she hid it well. "Why isn't she in the hospital?"

  Konstanz blew out a breath. "It's…complicated."

  I raised an eyebrow and waited. When I'd daydreamed running into Konstanz—and I had, many times—this wasn't the conversation we'd had. We hadn't talked about Navi, or blood, or things neither of us understood. We'd talked about forgiveness and what I could do to earn hers.

  Wait.

  I could help Navi. Konstanz would forgive me then, right? She would have to. "What does she do at night? Do you know? Where is she finding these situations?"

  Given that she'd found us in a park, I wondered if maybe she wasn't in bars and clubs like I'd assumed.

  Konstanz gnawed on her thumbnail. "I don't know. She leaves the house and I don't see her again until she comes home bloody. I think—I think she spends a lot of time on the beach."

  I frowned. "Navi hates the beach. Why do you think that?"

  The strand escaped as she shook her head, and I longed to brush it from her cheek. My fingers itched to feel her skin, my body ached to feel her against me. To have her so close and be unable to touch her was torture. But at least she was there. I could hear her voice, see her face. It was torture, but I'd take it.

  "Her boots are covered in sand. She has it under her nails. It's in her hair. In the wounds." She shuddered again. "Maybe this is why she hates the beach. If only I knew what she was doing, I could help. But I don't—she won't let me in. She says it's for my own protection."

  Funny, my father had said the same thing to me countless times.

  I shook off that memory and without meaning to, caught that strand of hair between my fingers, sliding it across my skin, soft like a rose petal. "How can I help?" I murmured.

  She swayed toward me, almost like she couldn't help it. "I—you can't. No one can. I even called her mom. She said Navi had to fight her own battles but that she was tough and it would be okay."

  "Parents don't always know best," I said tightly.

  Thirteen

  Konstanz

  Seeing Bryson again in the wee hours of the morning had been a salve to my tattered soul. I wanted to hate him still, but I couldn't. It was too much work and after Navi's last lecture, about how offended she was that I thought she couldn't handle herself, my resolve had been shaken.

  Seeing him again was all it took to shatter it. I needed a friend. I needed someone to help shoulder this burden because I'd nearly lost Navi when she'd come home this morning. So much blood. I hadn't been able to get it out of the tile. It still stained my hands.

  I couldn't do this alone. Not anymore.

  And I missed him. I missed him so much it hurt. All the time.

  "We need a plan," he was talking, but I was lost in his eyes, in the worry there. He looked awful, hadn't shaved in several days from the looks of it, and hadn't slept, either. "I'll follow her—" he continued.

  I froze, jerked out of my own head. "What? No. That's not safe."

  His eyes softened as he came a step closer, so close I could feel his breath on my skin. "If I don't, you're going to. I'm not wrong, am I? That was your plan for tonight."

  "How did you—" I stopped, giving myself away.

  He nodded toward my cart. Flashlights, extra batteries. All those things could have been just for use around the house, but with everything else in my cart…they'd given me away. "You can't go alone," I finished lamely.

  His gaze hardened and he pulled away from me. "You're not going, Konstanz. I didn't do what I did so you could go get yourself killed a few days later."

  I raised an eyebrow. "What you did?"

  "I made you hate me. Because I tried to save you instead of her. So if you think there's a chance in hell that you're going out there tonight—"

  I drew myself to my full height, which wasn't much compared to his, and crossed my arms over my chest. "You don't get to say what I do and don't do, Bryson. Not anymore."

  "I never did," he said softly. "Doesn't mean it's going to stop me."

  "That's great, Bryson. You just go ahead and keep thinking what you say means a damn thing to me."

  I'd hurt him. I could see pain, hot and sharp, flash across his face, and I expected his anger. It didn't come. "Hate me all you want, Konstanz. Tell me to leave you alone, tell me to never
see you again. It won't matter. I'll keep coming back, I'll keep protecting you. I love you too much to let you go out there and get yourself killed."

  I froze, the hot anger evaporating like he'd thrown cold water over it. It took me several seconds to form words that were even remotely coherent. "You—what?"

  "You heard me. I'm not letting you go out there alone. And if I have to choose between her and you, it will be you, every time. So hate me if you want, but—"

  "You said—you said you loved me," I whispered.

  He swallowed hard, and I was afraid of his denial. I was afraid of how much it would hurt me. But no denial came. "I do, Konstanz. More than I ever thought possible." His voice was harsh, strangled, and full of pain. "I'm so crazy, madly, insanely in love with you that I can't think or eat or feel anything without you. It takes everything I have just to survive from one hellish second to the next knowing you hate me like you do."

  "I don't hate you, Bryson," I said quietly. "I'm angry at you. But I don't hate you. I could never."

  He closed the distance between us a little more, the hope clashing with the pain in his eyes. "You said you hated me, Konstanz." His voice broke.

  I'd done that. I'd hurt him so bad I'd broken him.

  "I know. I was angry and I was scared. I shouldn't have said that. It wasn't true, and I'm sorry."

  "You have no idea—I haven't been able to sleep—you don't hate me?"

  I smiled. "No."

  "How can I earn your forgiveness, then? I want you back, Konstanz. I want you in my arms again. I don't ever want to wake up and know I'm facing a day without you in it. Not ever again. How do I do that?" He was so vulnerable, like he'd torn open his soul for me to see.

  "You don't need my forgiveness, Bryson. I have nothing to forgive."

  "Yes. You do. I can't forgive myself for what I did. I can't expect you to."

  I realized, a horrible realization that drove shards of pain through my heart, that making that decision, the one I'd screamed and fought him over, the one I'd told him I hated him over, it had hurt him as much as it hurt me. He hadn't left Navi lightly. It had slaughtered him like it had me.

  And I'd made it worse.

  "Bryson, you can't—she's okay. She came home safe that night. We would have gotten in her way, I believe that now."

  He sucked in a breath and looked away.

  Tentatively, no longer afraid of his denial or his anger, I rose on my toes, leaning against him. I could feel the race of his heart against my chest, could see the pounding of his pulse in his throat. I pressed my lips there, the smooth skin against my mouth as his head whipped back toward me. Without a word, he tipped my head to his and his lips devoured me, one arm snaking around my waist to hold me against him, molding me to his body and keeping me there like he would never let go.

  He loved me.

  "Come home with me?" So much vulnerability in those words, I hated to deny him. But I had to.

  "Navi shouldn't be left alone. Not for a while. Come home with me?" I asked instead.

  He smiled, beautiful, heartbreaking, soul-healing. I had missed that smile.

  So, so much.

  "You share a room…" he started, and I nodded.

  "We'll have to behave. But I—I've missed you." My voice trembled, betraying me. "I don't want to say goodbye yet."

  His eyes softened and he nodded, brushing a kiss across my nose. "Of course."

  Navi still slept when we got back to the apartment, deathly pale, lips a sickly gray. I'd never been so scared in my life when she'd stumbled in just after the sun rose. There was so much blood. The gash had been deep—deeper than my stitches were good for, probably. I'm guessing she required surgery, but she'd been adamant and I hadn't dare fight with her. Every erratic gesture as she tried to tell me she couldn't go had caused more blood to gush from the wound.

  I checked her pulse, which was stronger than I'd been hoping for. A good sign. Bryson was in the bathroom, scrubbing the tiles. The tiles I hadn't been able to get the blood from. He was some kind of domestic wizard, though, because he got it out, except for stains in the grout but it was dark gray and barely noticeable. Hopefully. Or Reese was going to kill us.

  I gathered our blood-soaked clothing and tossed it all into the bathtub to soak. I'd have to wash it later and hope the stains would come out. Otherwise, Navi owed me a new pair of pajamas. The sweats I'd changed into somehow had blood on them, too. It was everywhere. Even when I closed my eyes that was all I saw.

  "How's she doing?" he asked in a hushed whisper. He leaned against the doorjamb, watching quietly. I glanced at Navi, who hadn't moved since she laid down.

  "Better than I expected, actually." I leaned back against him and his arms came around my waist. I was safe here, in his embrace. Navi would be fine. Whatever monster had done this couldn't get us in here.

  "You need to sleep. Do you have to work today?" he asked, his mouth against my hair.

  I shook my head, suddenly so exhausted I wasn't sure I could make the four steps to my bed. He toed off his shoes and tugged his shirt over his head and sleep was momentarily the last thing on my mind. His skin was soft and flawless, muscles tight under my fingers. He laughed softly and turned me away from him, guiding me to my bed. "We'll have the rest of our lives, Konstanz. Right now, you need to sleep."

  We'll have the rest of our lives.

  He loved me.

  I sank onto the mattress and he pulled off my shoes before lifting my legs up and tucking them under the covers. Then he slid in next to me, wrapping me again in his arms.

  Safe.

  I watched Navi, fighting to keep my eyes open. I'd set an alarm for every hour, so I could check on her. Still, I was afraid to blink, afraid she wouldn't be breathing when I looked again. "What are we going to do about her?" I asked softly. "It can't go on like this."

  Bryson was quiet for several long minutes, and I thought he'd gone to sleep when he finally answered. "I'll take care of it."

  I had no idea what he meant by that, but it sounded dangerous and ominous and all kinds of worrisome things. "Bryson," I started. He kissed my temple and cut me off.

  "Don't worry, K. It will be okay."

  "Whatever you're thinking, it's dangerous. We need to talk about this. Maybe go to the police—"

  "If Navi hasn't gone by now, there's a reason. Let me find out what she's doing first, and then we'll make a plan of action. Sound good?"

  "No. It sounds like you're putting yourself in danger."

  He chuckled softly and brushed the hair from my face. "You're beautiful. Do you realize that?"

  I rolled my eyes, but I was so tired they almost wouldn't open again. "You're changing the subject."

  "Research like this is my job, Konstanz. I do it for my father all the time."

  "Really?" He talked so little about his job that I latched onto the information.

  He nodded. "I'll just observe and report back. Then we'll figure out what to do. Okay? I'll call in a favor, see what my dad knows." He hesitated and I could see that the thought didn't appeal to him at all.

  But he'd do it. For me. Because I was scared.

  "Thank you."

  He smiled. "Now sleep. I want to wake up with you in my arms and I can't do that if you don't go to sleep first."

  I snuggled down into the covers and let my eyes fall shut, but fear made them open almost without my consent. She still breathed. I peeked up at Bryson. He watched her, too. His gaze returned to me and he smiled again. "I'll count her breaths."

  So I could sleep.

  Fourteen

  Bryson

  The clock read past noon when I woke up. Konstanz had gotten up hourly to check on Navi, whose color finally returned bit by bit. Like she was slowly coming back to life. Suffice it to say, none of us had gotten much rest.

  "Hey," Konstanz smiled up at me. I'd assumed she was still asleep, but she watched me, the light brown eyes sparkling.

  I kissed her forehead. "Hey, beautiful. Did you sleep a
t all?"

  She nodded and burrowed closer to me. My arms tightened protectively around her, wishing we could stay there for the rest of the day. I had her back. I thought—I hadn't had any hope. I thought I'd lost her forever. In my darkest hour, she lit my way.

  But she hadn't told me she loved me. It was too much to expect, I knew, but hope made me stupid. I was satisfied with her not hating me. Hopefully, love would come, assuming I didn't mess up again.

  Beyond the door, Reese and Terrie were awake. I could hear the noise, but it was kept to a bare minimum, like somehow they understood what had happened that morning. I remembered Navi said they were having some sort of gathering the next day, so hopefully that meant today would be quiet.

  Until the fighting started.

  Konstanz growled under her breath. "I swear, they're like little kids." She sat up, throwing the covers off and stormed out, shutting the door with quiet force behind her. I could hear her anger, hear her tell them Navi was sick, even in her hushed tones. I sighed, my dream of spending the day in bed shattered, and got up to follow her out.

  "Bryson. This is unexpected." Reese raised an eyebrow.

  "Morning."

  "Good morning, Bryson," Terrie purred.

  Konstanz grinned and ruffled my hair before she turned the force of her glare back on her roommates. "Hungry?"

  "I could eat. Wanna go for breakfast?" Bryson answered when neither of them bothered to.

  "I don't know if I should leave Navi…" She gnawed on her lip, eyes trailing back to her room.

  "Navi's fine." The voice definitely did not sound fine, but Navi shuffled out of the bedroom, hunched slightly over her wound. "But damn I have scratchy clothes."

  "Her wound is on her back," Konstanz whispered against my shoulder.

  I left Konstanz in the kitchen and went back to their room, grabbing my shirt off the bed as Navi followed me more slowly. "Here. My clothes are softer than yours."