Playing With Fire (Power of Four Book 2)

by SF Mazhar

  “No!” Chris smacked his hand on the table. The thwack rang through the room, making both Sam and Rose jump.

  Aaron stared at him, at the fury in his eyes. “Why?” he asked. “Why won’t you help me?” He stood up so he could look his dad in the eye. “I’m your son. Don’t you want to teach me? You were a Hunter, Dad, a fighter. Why don’t you want to train me?”

  Chris stood with his hands clenched. “No, Aaron,” he managed through gritted teeth. “No. I can’t.”

  “Why?” Aaron asked.

  “I’ll tell you why,” Kate said as she came back into the kitchen. She held a small box in her hands, which she slammed down on the table. Aaron looked at the wooden box, then up at his mum. He was surprised to see angry tears in her eyes.

  “You think we’re forcing our fears on you?” she asked. “You think fighting alongside mages, alongside Elementals, will save lives?” She put her hands down on the table and leant in. “There were many Elementals there that day, the day I lost my son, and not one of them could protect my baby boy.” Her eyes were brimming with tears, but none fell. “You want to fight Aaron? You want to go out and face demons, like Raoul and his Lycans, or Hadrian and his vamages?” She pushed the box towards him. “Then first see what this offers you. Watch this memory, watch it all, and then look your dad in the eye and ask him to teach you how to fight. Ask him to do to you what he did to Alex, to train you so you think you can take on demons. So you go running out there when a demon attacks, with false confidence and skills that fail you when demons surround you.” Her breath hitched in her chest, but the tears still didn’t fall.

  Aaron looked at the box with trepidation. “What is it?” he asked.

  Kate’s body stiffened. With great difficulty she pulled her hand off the table and rested it on the box. She didn’t speak, but just stood for a long moment. Taking in a breath, she clicked the box open. Aaron saw a wad of cloth, ivory white, folded inside. Kate reached in and gently, softly caressed the cloth. The waiting tears finally fell from her eyes. Aaron saw his dad look away.

  Kate lifted the cloth out and it fell open to reveal a small hooded cloak, something a child might wear when playing dress up. Aaron’s heart sunk. It was Ben’s, Aaron knew it.

  “Come here,” Kate said, and her voice was barely above a whisper.

  Slowly, Aaron walked around the table. He eyed the cloak with dark apprehension.

  “Mum, I don’t want to see–”

  “Neither do I,” Kate cut him off, “but you need to see this, to see what it is you’re risking. To understand what it is you’re asking of us.”

  “No.” Chris walked around the table to reach his wife. “I’ll do it.” He made to reach for the cloak.

  Kate held fast. “It’s fine,” she said. She raised her eyes to meet her husband’s. “I live it every day, Chris. See it every night in my nightmares. I can watch it happen again.”

  Chris didn’t say anything, but his eyes too filled with tears. He moved away, grabbed his coat from the hook on the wall and opened the back door, disappearing outside. Aaron looked around at his mum.

  “Hold it,” she instructed.

  Aaron licked his lips nervously and looked to Sam and Rose. They were sitting at the table, watching him anxiously. Sam gave a little shrug, showing his uncertainty as to whether Aaron should watch the memory or not. Rose gave a small nod.

  Aaron turned back and met his mum’s eyes. She offered a hand, which Aaron took. Her fingers curled around his tightly. Breathing out, Aaron reached forward and held on to the small cloak. Just like Neriah had done with the table outside, Kate pulled Aaron into the flesh memory held on the cloak.

  Aaron’s surroundings melted, replaced instantly by sunshine and a warm summer’s breeze. Aaron had to squint against the light to see where he was. He stood in the middle of the street, both sides of which were lined with small stalls, displaying everything from clothes to toys to sweets. There were so many people around him that some walked straight through Aaron’s incorporeal form.

  It didn’t take long for Aaron to find his family amongst the crowd. His mum and dad were walking down the street, looking young and blissfully happy. His mum was laughing, her blond hair pulled up into a ponytail. One hand supported her bulging belly, and Aaron had a strange moment pass over him when he realised that it was him that she was pregnant with.

  He turned his head to look at his mum, standing next to him, watching the memory. She didn’t meet his eyes. She was engrossed in the sight of the small boy sitting on Chris’s shoulders, gripping his hair with both hands. Aaron took a minute to look at his brother, studying the dark hair and dazzling blue eyes. He definitely had his mum’s eyes, whereas Aaron had inherited his dad’s soft green eyes. Pulled over Ben’s blue shirt and dark jeans was the same white cloak Aaron was holding in his hand to watch the memory.

  Aaron heard Ben’s hearty giggles and found himself smiling. He watched as Ben pointed to a stall that had stuffed toys hovering in the air above it. Chris and Kate made their way towards it, through the busy crowd.

  At the other end of the street, the Gate silently fell. Engrossed in their joy, no one stopped or even paused to look over at what was happening. But Aaron remembered the story. He knew what was happening.

  Lycans had entered the city.

  In a matter of seconds, pandemonium broke throughout the street. People began screaming, running in all directions, knocking stalls over in their haste to get away. Aaron turned to search the crowd, looking for his mum and dad. Chris had taken Ben off his shoulders and was holding him close to his chest. Ben looked confused; only four years old, he couldn’t possibly understand the ramifications of what was happening.

  The growls of the beasts echoed in the street, louder and fiercer than the cries of the mages. The Hunters in the midst of the crowd pulled out their weapons and ran to protect their city, their people. Aaron watched as Chris passed Ben to Kate and ran with his gun in hand, joining the fight.

  Aaron felt his mum’s hand grip tight on his in the present, but he didn’t turn to her. He couldn’t. He was transfixed in horror, unable to look away from the scene unfolding before him. Through the panicked, fleeing crowd, Aaron saw his pregnant mum run with her four-year-old son in her arms. Ben was clutching on to her neck, crying now as he saw the monsters amongst the mages. Aaron followed Ben’s line of sight to spot a young girl, not much older than five or six, hanging limply from the jaws of a Lycan. She was clearly dead as the Lycan shook her around like a rag doll, tearing through her small body. Aaron pulled his hand out of his mum’s and turned, doubled over, the cloak scrunched in one hand as he leant on his knees and willed himself not to retch.

  Kate’s hand rested on his shoulder and Aaron took in several deep breaths before straightening up. Feeling shaky all over, Aaron forced himself to find his mum and brother. He spotted her running, carrying Ben, trying to get away when her path was blocked by several Lycans. Aaron fought the urge to race to her side. He watched in mounting terror as his mum backed away, holding her son close. One of the Lycans – a big, dark beast with a line of silver running down the fur of his back – came at her with claws and fangs bared.

  Kate swiped with her hand and the Lycan was knocked back a few steps by a jolt of air. Aaron held his breath, watching as his mum kept up the defence, pushing back any Lycan that got too close. But no matter how good her attacks were, they weren’t strong enough to scare off the beasts.

  Six Lycans surrounded her, getting closer, tightening the circle. A desperate attack of Kate’s managed to push them away once more, but not for long. They came at her again, and this time one of them got too close. Kate pulled back, narrowly avoiding the attack, but the poisonous claws of another Lycan slashed at her back. Kate arched, her features twisting in agony.

  Aaron only realised he had made to dart forward when his mum held on to his arm. He looked around at her with wide, horrified eyes.

  “There’s nothing you can do,” she said in a bro
ken voice. “It’s already happened. You can’t change anything.”

  Aaron looked down at the cloak that was in his tight, white-knuckled fist. He turned back to watch the memory, blinking through his tears. His mum, wounded and in immense pain, still clutched her son to her chest and tried to fight the Lycans.

  From the crowd of screaming mages and growling beasts, came another Lycan. Its fur was crimson, eyes a cruel cobalt blue. Aaron recognised it. It was the same Lycan that had attacked his dad. It was Raoul.

  It happened so fast, Aaron couldn’t prepare for it. Raoul dropped onto all fours and bounded forward. In the blink of an eye, he towered over Kate before grabbing Ben at the waist.

  Aaron’s cry mixed with the scream of his mother, fourteen years ago. Raoul ripped Ben out of Kate’s arms but she managed to grab on to him. Her fingers closed around Ben’s arm and cloak. She was pulling him back with both hands, using all her strength, sobbing as she pleaded with Raoul to let go. But it was the sight of his brother that made Aaron’s insides twist with both fear and fury. The little boy was screaming. Raoul’s claws had dug into his flesh, causing droplets of blood to seep down his legs. Ben was reaching out for Kate, trying to get back to his mother who wasn’t letting go of him. That’s when Raoul lifted his leg and kicked Kate, right in the stomach.

  A numbness of disbelief fell over Aaron as he watched his pregnant mother assaulted, her vulnerability so disgustingly abused. Kate fell, the brutal attack costing her the grip she had on her son. She was still holding on to the cloak and it ripped from Ben’s small form when she hit the ground.

  Twisting in agony, Kate raised her head, only to see Raoul throw Ben to its Lycans, like someone would throw a slab of meat to dogs. A Lycan reared back and caught the little boy with its mouth.

  Aaron fell to his knees and threw up. He couldn’t stop, not even when all that was left to bring up was bile. Sobbing, he lifted his head to see the Lycans throw his brother’s bleeding, tiny body from one to the other, fangs tearing him apart. Aaron could see chunks of flesh ripped out from his brother’s body.

  Aaron clenched his eyes shut and tears cut down his cheeks. He was shaking at the sound of Ben’s screams and his mum’s cries. Her shrieks, laced with agony, made his insides twist. He refused to watch. He couldn’t take any more.

  “Stop!” he begged. “Stop, please, stop!”

  The memory did, but not quickly enough. The fading sound Aaron was left with, as his surroundings melted back to the kitchen, was his mum and dad’s anguished cries at feeling the death of their four-year-old son.

  15

  Inheritance

  That night, Aaron was sure all he was going to dream about was the attack he had watched in the memory. What he saw would never leave him. The image of a four-year-old child being so brutally killed by Lycans wasn’t an easy thing to forget. And Aaron had watched it happen to his brother.

  Granted, Aaron had never known he’d had a brother until a few weeks ago, but that didn’t make watching him die any easier. As soon as his mum had pulled him out of the memory, Aaron had found himself kneeling on the kitchen floor. Sam and Rose were by his side, pale-faced and wide-eyed. They hadn’t seen what Aaron had witnessed, but they had watched him react to the memory. They heard him cry out, they saw him collapse on the floor and retch. They saw him break.

  His mum had knelt next to him and embraced him. Aaron didn’t remember ever crying in her arms before. He cried while she pleaded with him to give up the fight.

  Aaron understood now – understood with horrifying clarity – why his parents wanted him away from the war. It wasn’t because they were afraid to lose him to the war. It was because they had already lost one son; they wouldn’t survive losing another.

  Aaron had decided then and there to never take the risk of putting his parents through that kind of an ordeal. If that meant staying back while the others went to fight, then so be it. He had nodded and managed a hoarse, “I won’t fight. I promise.” Kate had broken down then and wept, with Aaron in her arms.

  Aaron knew what he watched wasn’t the full memory. He remembered his dad saying that after Ben died, his uncle Alex was killed. Aaron didn’t recall seeing his uncle in the memory, but then again, his eyes were fixed on his mum and four-year-old brother. He was glad, though. He couldn’t handle seeing another death. He told himself his unwillingness to witness his uncle’s death had nothing to do with seeing someone look so much like Kyran die.

  But when Aaron finally managed to drift off to sleep that night, his dreams weren’t plagued by the nightmare he had witnessed. He dreamt of being back home in the human realm. He dreamt about Rebecca, the girl next door he was crushing on. He even dreamt about partying in the Blaze club alongside Sam and Rose, with Rebecca – dressed in her skin-tight catsuit – bringing out a cake with fourteen candles. Then the dream changed abruptly, fading to replace the Blaze with open green fields. Under a large apple tree was Kyran, sitting with his knees pulled up, looking forlorn. Standing before him was another man, but Aaron couldn’t see his face, only his back and dark hair.

  Kyran took in a deep breath before slowly shaking his head. “I’ve thought about it,” he said.

  His voice didn’t sound like his own. Aaron couldn’t figure out what it was but somehow he seemed...not quite...Kyran. He lacked the usual confidence. He even looked younger.

  “Think it over again, Alex,” the man said. “You’re taking quite a risk.”

  Aaron stared at the green-eyed boy with stunned surprise. It wasn’t Kyran, it was his uncle Alex. Once again, his likeness to Kyran was astounding.

  Alex sighed before nodding. “I have,” he replied.

  The man stepped closer. “Why don’t you try talking with Chris?” he said. “Reason with him.”

  Alex let out a laugh, but it lacked humour. He glanced up at the man and Aaron noticed how much warmer his green eyes were compared to Kyran’s.

  “You don’t reason with Chris,” Alex said. “You do as he says.” He quietened for a moment. “Problem is, I know what he’ll say if I tell him.” He shook his head. “But I can’t do what he’s going to demand.”

  The man walked over and turned to sit down next to Alex.

  Aaron’s breath hitched in his chest. He knew that man. He recognised him from the memory Neriah had shown him.

  “You know that I’ll cover for you,” the man said to Alex. “For as long as you need, but things like this don’t stay secret for long. Chris will find out, eventually.”

  Alex nodded. “I know,” he said quietly. “I know. I just – I don’t want him finding out about it yet, not until I can prove to him that I can do this.”

  “Then Chris won’t know,” the man said. “Not until you’re ready. I’ll handle it.”

  Alex let out a breath and turned to him with a small smile. “Thanks, Hadrian.”

  Hadrian grinned. “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “Just promise me one thing. When you do tell Chris, I want a front row seat.”

  Alex rolled his eyes and looked away, fighting a smile. Hadrian chuckled and ruffled Alex’s hair.

  Aaron’s eyes shot open. He lay in bed for long minutes, wondering what the hell he had just seen.

  ***

  Daniel Machado was not a patient being. It was well known to vamages that to test Machado’s tolerance was to invite a painful death. For Kyran, though, pushing Machado to the brink was merely a fun pastime, and one he enjoyed on a frequent basis. Machado, on the other hand, didn’t enjoy it as much.

  Machado stormed into the main dining room to find the bane of his existence sitting at the table. “What the hell, Kyran?” he spat.

  Kyran looked up from his plate. He took in the agitated vamage – with his tight-fisted hands and angry glare – and smiled. “What’s wrong?” he asked, with far too much innocence for it to be genuine.

  Machado growled. “You know what’s wrong. You took out two of my men.”

  Kyran looked up at the ceiling, like he was recalli
ng memories. “Which ones?” he asked.

  Machado was spitting like a cat. “The ones you bled out yesterday.”

  “You’re going to have to be more specific.”

  Machado’s eyes bulged out with horror. Then he saw the smirk on Kyran’s face. “I swear, if I find out you’ve killed any more of my men, I’ll–”

  “What?” Kyran asked. “You’ll do what exactly?”

  Machado was fuming. He could feel the familiar burn of rage fraying the last strand of his patience. “I mean it, Kyran,” he growled. “Stay away from my men.”

  “Tell them to behave, then,” Kyran said. His eyes flashed with anger. “In addition to attacking a young, defenceless mage, your two idiots challenged me. What was I supposed to do?”

  “Lift your anonymity!” Machado spat. “No one would touch you if they knew you were the Scorcher. The mages know who you are. Why can’t all of the vamages?”

  Kyran picked up his glass and smiled. “’Cause I like it better this way.” He took a sip.

  “You listen to me.” Machado stepped closer, a shaky finger held up. “I have lost enough because of you. I had to sacrifice more than what was needed for your ridiculous Q-Zone hunt! But I did it so your cover could be kept and we could get the key. It’s done now. I won’t tolerate any more loss.”

  Kyran chuckled. “You won’t?” he asked. He leant back in his seat. “You think you get a choice?” Kyran’s smile faded and he fixed Machado with a sharp glare. “You do what I tell you to. Your men do what I say, otherwise they die.”

  “We follow your father,” Machado bit out. “Not you.”

  “You don’t follow anyone,” Kyran said. “If you followed my father, you’d adhere to his rules, like not hurting mages in his zones. You stray from his word, I kill you. It’s as simple as that.”

  Machado was trying to keep himself under control. But it was a fight he was losing. His eyes had started to darken from their glittery blue to a dark red.