Playing with Fire (Book 1 of the FIRE Trilogy)
Page 38
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Two nights ago, she had fallen asleep only to wake up during noon as if from a coma.
There was heat around her, the blackened walls of the ruin baking in the sunshine and radiating their warmth, the earth beneath her dry and hard yet comforting. She had woken not to panic or the dreaded pain, but to determination mixed with a tinge of wonder.
Her skin looked perfect in the harsh daylight, missing the tiny scars and lines and indents and bumps collected by hands and feet over the course of a life. Her hair fell way beyond her shoulders, longer and more luscious with their orange-red-golden curly tresses than she remembered them. She felt vulnerable without clothes, yet at the same time, she couldn’t care less. Part of her knew that without clothes, she wouldn’t be able to leave her hiding place. Part of her was convinced that it was better anyway to stay hidden, and that she would eventually find a solution. What were clothes to her now that she had reawakened to this uncanny glory, this miracle that should and shouldn’t be shared?
Felicia felt neither hunger nor thirst, only an urge to be safe and to reconnect with what was her: fire. After straining her ears and eyes to find out whether anybody was near enough to post a danger to her, she moved around stealthily to collect fallen debris and build a wall of sorts in her hide-out corner. The sun on her skin felt glorious. She was soaking up the heat, basking in it like an iguana on a rock. As inviting and comforting the moonlight might have been a short while ago, the sun and the heat were still her elements. Sitting down square-legged behind her self-built barrier, she closed her eyes, and turned her attention inward. Before she could suppress it, a whoop of delight burst from her mouth. She clamped it shut and waited with baited breath for any reaction, but there was none.
How lucky that she had ended up here, for the house stood at the outskirts of town, bordering a hill leading into the forest. This area was sparsely filled with old, traditional homes, once grand and the center of attention, now reserved for the elderly and those with a meager budget and a foible for traditional housing.
Impatiently, she focused on herself again and was greeted with the sight that had filled her with such joy. Inside her body, her dragon stared back up at her, magnificent as always, unharmed by what she had gone through. She drew strength from its glowing eyes and gleaming body, curled up among so many beautiful flames quietly burning away, waiting for her to command them.
Yes, she was still herself.
Although she was literally itching and trembling to experiment and test out her boundaries, as well as wield her special power and feel whole again, she kept her wish in check. Instead, she stretched herself out among what the fire had left behind, content to be caressed by sunbeams, and to let her thoughts wander.
They wandered straight to one man.
Joshua.
Where was he? What was he doing? Did he know what had happened to her?
How strange and telling that it mattered more to her to find this out than to find a way out of the mess she was in. She might still wanted for arson, and policemen could be crawling over the city like ants to sniff her out. And let’s not forget it was partly or wholly his doing that had brought her to their attention. Reason told her she was better off on her own. Her heart, beating as furiously and at the same time steadily as if it had to prove a point, told her that her new life held no meaning if she didn’t get to spend it with the one she loved. Without him, she might as well be dead.
When Felicia caught herself thinking that, she sat bolt upright, fists clenched and teeth grinding together.
No, death was not an option. She wanted life. She was meant to live, or she wouldn’t have survived and gone through such a bizarre resurrection process. The useless energy she had carried around with her for 27 years of a mostly wasted life had increased during her reincarnation, and she was filled with a will to live, even if it meant fighting or a life filled with difficulties. The fire inside wouldn’t accept defeat for an answer, and neither would she.
With a firmly set jaw, she lay back down and kept her eyes open to stare at the sun, defying its glare and triumphing in her ability to do so without needing sunglasses.
She was fire.
She would never give up.
Before her thoughts could stray back to their favorite topic, Felicia steered them to more pressing matters, and spent hours planning her next steps. Life wasn’t going to find her here, although death might. She’d have to leave her safe haven, and find her place in the world. It was useless to question what had happened, and to allow the past with its drama to cling to her like shackles.
By the time the sun had set, her mind was made up. She inched out of her hiding place, and made her way across the backyard step by careful step, hunching behind whatever provided cover, acutely aware of her skin—now lightly tanned again—and her fiery hair standing out like a red road sign in the dark. Without a backward glance, she covered the last, ghastly open stretch in a sprint headed for the forest. Within minutes, she was running through the trees and shrubs, her bare feet carrying her on and on. Her dragon soared above her but below the trees’ crowns, leading the way to the one place that mattered to her. She had chosen it as the start of her journey.
The clearing by the river where they had met so many times.