Through the Fire (Daughter of Fire Book 1)

by Michelle Irwin

  “There’s a man at the bar, he keeps hitting on me, and he won’t take no for an answer. I told him I was meeting my boyfriend, but I’m not. I’m here by myself, and I’m worried about what he might do if I leave alone.”

  “I’m waiting for . . .”

  “Please?” I begged. “Just walk me outside.”

  Turning to look at the bar, I plastered a smile on my face when I saw Clay’s dad watching me and the stranger interact. As I faced my potential savior again, I forced my features into a look of horror.

  “Please?”

  The man looked around me to look at the bar. “Is that him?”

  I nodded.

  “Maybe I should just talk to him,” the guy said. “Tell him to back off a bit.”

  “No, please, I don’t want to cause a scene. I just really want to get out of here.”

  The man’s eyebrows knitted together as he examined my face. I held my breath and tried not to crumble under his scrutiny.

  “Okay,” he said eventually.

  I exhaled heavily in relief. “Thank you.”

  He held out an arm, and I linked mine with it. As we walked to the doors outside, I turned quickly to Clay’s dad, giving him a wink and a thumbs-up.

  “You’re really warm,” my savior said as we hit the crisp air. “Are you coming down with something?”

  “It’s just the alcohol,” I said, hoping that was a valid reason for being a little warmer than most people. Usually I avoided touching people at all costs and would use the illness excuse. I didn’t want my savior to mention my heat to anyone else though, which was always a risk when fevers were discussed.

  He nodded as if it was actually a thing, and I thanked him for helping me. Once I was away from the bright lights of the entrance to the hotel, I ducked around the corner and headed for the receiving bay where Clay had dropped my bag earlier.

  As much as I wanted to flee as far and as fast as I could, I wasn’t ready to leave Clay. He’d warned me that there would be others from the Rain there—it just happened to include his family. I had no real reason to doubt him; he’d proven that he was different time and time again.

  The cool night air helped me clear my head, and I gained control away of my heat from the confined space of the bar. If I was attacked in my hiding place, I would easily be able to defend myself.

  Leaving my bag where it was for the moment, I headed back toward the corner and peered around to see the hotel entrance. As I watched, the door opened again. The light of the hotel entrance highlighted Clay’s face as he quickly looked left and right. He ducked away quickly and moved toward my side of the hotel. He just reached the corner when a man rushed up behind him. I watched from the limited shadows, not daring to peek my head out from around the corner, as Clay moved to greet him.

  Straining my ears, I was just able to make out their conversation.

  The man clapped Clay on the shoulder. Risking one quick glance, I could just make out Ethan. With the image of his Hummer barreling down on me in my mind, my heart beat so loudly that I was certain they’d both hear it.

  “Hey bro, what’re you doing out here?” Ethan asked. “The party’s inside.”

  “Just taking a breather. Lou’s being her usual self in there tonight, and I needed a minute.”

  “You can’t blame her for being enthusiastic about tonight. I mean the last time we encountered witches—”

  “I know, Eth, but I just can’t take it. Her constant smugness and the way she looks down on me for wanting to be certain that they pose a threat. Ever since . . .” Clay’s voice trailed off.

  His brother sighed. “Yeah, ever since you betrayed the Rain for a piece of tail.”

  “It’s not—” Clay cut himself off. “It wasn’t like that.”

  “I know, I know, you were in love,” he dragged the word, and his voice was dripping with disdain. “And she wasn’t like the others.”

  Risking another quick peek, I saw Clay’s whole body begin to shake with tiny tremors, and even with the distance between us, I could see the tiny muscles along his jaw tensing.

  “Take a moment if you need to, bro, but we’ll need you in there. Dad said he’s expecting at least three dozen tonight, and you know they’ll put up a good fight.”

  My stomach twisted sickeningly to hear Ethan’s ability to speak so calmly about murder. When Clay had told me what his family did, his words appeared to weigh heavily on his conscience. Ethan seemed to treat it almost as a game; he appeared somewhat excited by the prospect of a mass execution.

  Clay nodded vaguely as he slowly swept his head from side to side. I couldn’t help hoping that he was trying to locate me.

  Ethan finally noticed Clay’s anxiety. “Why don’t we go get a drink together after all this goes down?”

  Clay looked around before scrubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, sure, I’ll, um, see you inside in a minute,” he said.

  I froze as Ethan’s footsteps filled the night; the memory of his pursuit and the knowledge of how little killing affected him chilled my blood. My back was pressed firmly against the hotel until I was certain he was far away.

  Clay breezed straight past me as he made a beeline for the white fence that enclosed the receiving bay. Almost instantly, I stepped forward to follow him. He’d already grabbed my bag by the time I reached him—picking it up and hugging it to his chest momentarily before slinging it onto his back.

  I took another step, and he spun around quickly, ready to defend himself against whoever had spied him.

  “Who’s there?” he asked, his hand instantly shifting to the small of his back. The moment he turned though, recognition instantly lit his eyes.

  In two steps, he was holding me and his lips were pressed against mine. He pushed me back and pinned me against the wall of the hotel. He peppered my mouth with soft kisses between his words. “I. Was. So. Worried.”

  I pulled away from his hold, not wanting to lose myself in his attention.

  “Your family, they killed my dad.” I’d known that simple truth for years, but hearing how little they regarded the lives they’d taken made my body tremble and my heart ache all over again. “They killed him, and they don’t even care. They would have killed me too.”

  He clasped the side of my head and pressed his forehead to mine. “I’m so sorry.”

  The tears that I’d hidden for so long spring to my eyes again. Taking a number of deep breaths, I tried to calm myself; it wasn’t the time or the place to lose my cool. As if he’d read my thoughts, he stroked my hair lightly and waited for my breathing to steady.

  “I thought we’d have a little more time before they arrived. They were going to leave this early part up to the local guys. I thought we’d be able to slip out unnoticed.”

  He released his hold and took my hand in his. “Come on, we’ve gotta get out of here.”f

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  AFTER RUNNING from the Hawthorne Hotel, Clay and I fled for a few miles on foot. “Keep your head down and away from any cameras,” Clay said to me as we raced along the street.

  When we were finally tucked up into a cab, Clay told me that he’d managed to secure a secret place for us to stay after seeing me near the shop. I was partly expecting the cab to pull up in front of a dilapidated warehouse like the one he’d stayed in while we were in Charlotte, but instead we stopped in front of a beautiful Sheraton. The lobby was housed in a separate colonial style building with massive arched windows that faced the road. A warm yellow light flooded out through the wide openings, casting a glow over the perfectly manicured gardens.

  “Wow!” I exclaimed quietly.

  The rest of the hotel rose from behind the front building, but it mostly blended into the inky night sky.

  “You like it?” Clay asked.

  “Like it? It’s beautiful.” I didn’t even bother to ask how much a room cost per night, because it was likely to be more than I could afford—especially after wasting precious funds on the other expensive room that wou
ld no longer see any use. I had no idea where Clay got the money for it, but then again when he’d left me in Charlotte, he’d left a few thousand with me as if it meant nothing.

  “Then let’s head inside,” Clay said before throwing some money at the driver. By the time we were safely ensconced in the hotel elevator, my feet were aching and my body was tense from excess energy. I rested against the mirrored wall and closed my eyes to try to recover from the massive shift that had occurred in my life over the last twenty-four hours. When I opened my eyes, he was watching me carefully.

  “I have something to admit,” he said when he realized I was watching him.

  “What’s that?”

  “It’s silly, but I booked this room with the hope that you’d be with me tonight.”

  “Why’s that silly?”

  “I hoped I could make good on a promise I made to you a long time ago.” His mouth broke into a wicked grin, but he refused to say anything more.

  The elevator opened before I had a chance to coerce anything more out of him.

  Once he’d led me to our room, I slipped off my shoes as I surreptitiously watched Clay’s movement.

  “Home sweet home,” he said.

  The words caused a grin to spread over my lips. I still couldn’t believe I was back with him again. It seemed surreal that against all odds I’d found him and, more miraculously, that he still cared for me. It was enough to make me deliriously happy. Although I did have some pressing concerns.

  “Why are we waiting here anyway?” I asked. We’d only traveled as far as Wakefield—far too close to the action for my liking.

  He stretched his neck from side to side before sliding off his jacket and hanging it over the back of a chair. As he moved, his white business shirt pulled taut across the sinuous muscles that ran across his back. Each of them rippled when he rolled his shoulders and neck. It was clear in the way he moved that he had as much tension roiling through his body as I had twisting in mine.

  I was ready to push all the questions and concerns out of my mind and run my fingertips over each of the tiny muscles on his neck. Or maybe my tongue.

  Clay stopped the progression of my thoughts into actions when he answered my question. “As soon as they discover I’ve gone, they’ll go through the security tapes. It won’t take them long to realize you’re not as dead as they thought. When they work that out, they’ll expect us to run,” he said.

  His reached his arm behind him; the flex of his biceps made me clench my thighs together. I longed to have his arms around me again, to have him pull me close and hold me tightly with his new strength.

  “By the time they’ve figured out that we didn’t leave tonight,” he continued.

  It was only when I saw what he was reaching for that my focus shifted to the handgun, tucked into a holster that rested low on his back. The sight both terrified and comforted me. Between the muscles that now formed his hardened body and the piece he carried, I was certain he was more than strong enough to protect me. He tugged his gun from its holster. Under any other circumstances, the action would’ve terrified me. With Clay, it was different—he had my complete trust.

  He set the gun on the table. How often had he needed to use it? I decided against asking—I wasn’t sure that I actually wanted to know. No doubt the number was higher than anything I could fathom.

  “We’ll be long gone in the opposite direction. It will give us a better head start.” He turned back toward me, catching my gaze and offering me a quizzical expression in response to something he saw on my expression. His chest stretched the white business shirt taut.

  My breath caught at the sight, and desire spun in my stomach.

  “You’re certain about that?” I asked, wanting to confirm that we were safe. I had to know that much before I could act on my rising needs.

  Reluctantly, I turned away from him, knowing that if I didn’t we’d never finish our conversation. I pulled off the wig he’d given me to wear and released my hair from its ponytail. When my hair was free, I tousled it with my fingers to allow me to look a little more like myself again.

  “I’m sure.” Clay wrapped his hands around my shoulders. “Besides, we’ll be safe tonight. They’ll be too busy with the gathering to worry about us.”

  Dread filled the pit of my stomach, wiping away the desire that had built a second earlier. I was somewhat relieved that Clay couldn’t see my expression because I was certain he’d find it offensive. “What will they do to them?”

  “They’ll do what the Rain always does. Cleanse the world.”

  His answer had been what I’d expected, but that wasn’t enough to stop a violent shudder from ripping through me. I should have done more to warn the girls in the bathroom what was coming. I shook free of Clay’s hold and spun back toward him. The dread twisted to something stronger and I jutted my chin out. “But that’s murder.”

  “Witches aren’t people, Evie,” he said, reaching for me with a sad little smile.

  I stepped back. The words might’ve been intended them for me, but I bristled at them regardless. According to the Rain, I fell into that category too. Was I “not people” to Clay as well?

  He held out his arm again. When I ignored it, the unintentional implication of his words must’ve struck him. His expression softened as he reached for me again. This time, he stepped forward and didn’t allow me the chance to refuse him again. “I didn’t mean it like that, Evie. The Rain doesn’t believe that anything not human is a person.”

  Unwilling to fight from his hold despite my anger, I pressed my cheek against his chest. “But they have families.”

  “Not all of them,” he said. “There are some creatures out there that are pure evil. Trust me, I know. Lou . . .” he trailed off.

  “What?”

  He seemed to debate for a moment, as if weighing the choice between telling me the truth and staying loyal to his family. Meeting my eye, the explanation seemed to fall from him in a rush. “Lou . . . she was replaced by a changeling when we were little. Dad was already in the Rain so he recognized the switch almost immediately, but we didn’t get her back until we were almost five. We lost Mom during the search, and Lou’s life was irrevocably shaped by the years she spent away from us. The things she endured . . . well, no child should have to suffer those things.”

  “Who would do such a thing?” I asked as I placed my palm on his cheek to comfort him.

  “It was the fucking fairies,” he growled.

  My mind raced with thoughts of Aiden and his court. For the most part, they’d treated me like I was one of them. I’d never seen any signs of torture or stealing children. The fledglings I’d encountered were all fae. But then Aiden’s warnings about the Unseelies crossed my mind. He’d never gone into too many details, but from the little he’d told me, what Clay described didn’t seem outside of the realm of possibility for them.

  “It was a fifty-fifty chance. They could have taken me instead. It was only pure luck that they didn’t.” His eyes told me that, to some degree, he blamed himself for what his sister had suffered through.

  Rather than trying to correct Clay, to explain that it had to be an Unseelie court, and stir up his emotions more, I tried to comfort him. “It wasn’t your fault,” I said.

  “I was just a baby,” he said robotically, nodding slowly.

  They were obviously words he’d been told all his life; words he still didn’t believe.

  “It wasn’t your fault,” I repeated.

  He smiled weakly before reaching for my hair, smoothing it out to tame the mess that the wig had caused. For a moment it seemed as if he was going to say something more, but he closed his eyes at the last second.

  “You never even had a chance to show off in your impressive dress tonight,” he said as he opened his eyes and guided me around in a slow circle like he had during our dance in the warehouse. He was changing the subject, but I could sense he needed it more than he’d ever say. I didn’t mention that his father had appreciated
the dress. It took some effort, but I suppressed the shudder that threatened to race through my body at the thought. I didn’t want to talk about them any more than Clay seemed to.

  “Impressive?” I asked, allowing him the shift he needed.

  “Definitely impressive,” he said. “But not quite as impressive as the person in it.” His tongue slowly peeked out from between his teeth and swept across his bottom lip.

  I laughed. “Flattery will get you a long way.”

  His gaze trailed lazily over my body and then he pulled me against him. “I don’t want to go anywhere. I just want to stay here, with you.”

  I rested my head on his chest as he swayed us in time to an unheard rhythm. It was so reminiscent of our first reunion; I couldn’t help but smile. “Do you remember when you asked whether I thought about prom?”

  He nodded. “I remember everything about our time together. Every moment has played on my mind again and again while I wondered what I could have done differently.”

  “I wish things could be different too, but I’ve also learned that living with ‘what-ifs’ will only put you in danger.” I placed my hand on his cheek to soothe him. Despite my breakdown after seeing his father earlier, I was exactly where I wanted to be—in Clay’s arms. It was easier to put the sadness out of my mind now that I had someone by my side to help share the burden.

  “How can you say that though, Evie? You lost everything. Don’t you ever get angry about the way things are?”

  “Of course I do,” I said, twisting away from him. I crossed my arms and brushed my fingers over my arm, tracing a calming path while I tried to find the right words to adequately explain it to him. “There are days when the anger is so strong it’s almost crippling. There are days when I’m so overwhelmed by sadness that I wonder whether it’s worth going on. But it is, it has to be. My dad worked hard to keep me alive for so many years; it would be an insult to his memory if I just gave up.” I closed my eyes, unwilling to admit to Clay exactly how close I had come to giving up before Aiden had healed me. “I can’t do that to him. He deserves better than for me to throw his memory away like that.”