Wishes to Burn

by Ellabee Andrews

Finally, my mind flashes back to my thoughts about the triplets, mainly how they seem to know what the others are thinking, and I could kick myself at forgetting that I can do the same. I need some help! I mentally cry, shattering my mental shields and sending the thought broadcasting to each of them.

  “You aren’t really anything, just a fairy with bad luck. I personally don’t have a problem with you, but you have pissed off some very powerful people. People that have enough money to obtain my set of skills,” the man replies, voice matter of fact, and bile rises up my throat.

  Searching my mind on what to say, on how to stall him, I feel that I’m not alone, and I mentally try to send images from my flight here. I’m not sure it’s enough, but I hope that the jumbled pictures are clear enough that the others know where to find me.

  “Stall him, Rhia. We’re on the way!”

  Maksim’s voice is more urgent than I’ve ever heard, and I relax the tiniest bit knowing they’re coming. But I had flown a pretty long distance, and it’s going to take time. I just need to do like Maksim says, and stall.

  Focusing back on where the stranger watches me, a stillness to his body that causes another cold chill to race down my spine, I clear my throat as I wrack my brain for things to distract him.

  “I’m not sure if I should be flattered or not that there are people willing to pay for you to seek me out for whatever reason. I mean, that’s if you’re expensive. If your services, or skills, or whatever are cheap, then it’s not so flattering at all.”

  Nostrils flaring, the first emotion I’ve seen from him, he takes a step closer, and I kick myself at choosing the wrong distraction. “My skills are incomparable. I can do things others can’t, and I can assure you fairy, these services don’t come cheap.

  As he speaks, I feel a charge to the air, similar to a charge during a thunderstorm, and I bite my lip as the sky above us begins to darken, the beautiful summer day being chased away by the angry storm clouds that are starting to take shape above us.

  Concerned, but knowing that I need to focus, I turn back to see the strange elf has moved closer during my distraction. Close enough that I can see the silver flecks in his pale grey eyes. Rubbing my hands down my arms at the static electricity that fills the air, causing my wings to twitch, I try to focus on what I can do. Magic is out, since my powers are bound against using them for myself, and I’d really not like to leave it up to chance on whether or not they’ll protect me again. I’d almost died the first time. I don’t want to repeat that and try my luck.

  Since goading him will only piss him off further, I switch tactics and smile sweetly at him. “That’s very impressive. I apologize for suggesting otherwise. How do you do it? Control the clouds?”

  He scoffs, and levels me with a superior glare, staring at me down his long straight nose. “I don’t control the clouds girl, I control the storm!”

  He shouts the last part to be heard over a bolt of lightning that arcs across the sky and strikes a nearby tree. I throw up my arms as branches and leaves rain down on me, mixing with the rain that’s starting to fall, as my mind flashes back to all the recent storms.

  When only the rain continues to pepper down onto my skin, I look up and find him staring at me with a satisfied gleam in his eyes as the realization of what I’m facing hits me.

  I have no protection against him, only his magic. And if he doesn't directly use his magic on me then… oh fuck.

  “Can’t we talk about this? You said you were getting paid, right? I have very wealthy friends. I’m sure they could make what you’re getting paid now look like snack money. Please! There must be something I can do. You don’t have to go through with this.”

  Stepping forward, the man comes to stand within reaching distance of me, him not appearing as if he minds the rain, as we’re both soaked.

  “You see, that’s the problem. The money is only part of the payment. You can’t give me the other part I seek. What it is that truly motivates me.”

  Terrified to know, but having no options but to continue to stall, I clear my throat, hating the tremor to my words. “What’s that? What motivates you?”

  Grinning maniacally and revealing a mouth of straight white teeth, I can practically see how unhinged he is. His eyes are a touch too wide for any sane person.

  “I do it for the rush. The exhilaration of watching my beautiful light stretch across the sky, deadly and accurate as it strikes my target. It’s a feeling akin to nirvana to watch my light fill you, while I see yours fade away. That’s why I do it. The money is just a bonus.”

  Seeing that I can’t reason with him, I jump as another bolt crashes down far too close for comfort. As he looks on in glee, I react on instinct and kick up my leg, my knee striking him right in the family jewels.

  He immediately leans forward from the pain, and I take advantage of his new position to cup my fists together and bring them down as hard as I can on the side of his head. When he cries out, I spin and flap my wings, ready to fly away, but pain like I’ve never experienced tears through my back, and I crash into the wet ground as a warm liquid begins to seep from the large gash I see in my right wing.

  We’re almost there, Rhia. Just hold on,” Declan pleads across our link, and I feel the others there as well, quiet but present. They don’t speak, but their anger is almost suffocating and beneath that, I feel their fear. Fear for me.

  Finding strength from knowing they’re on their way, that I’m not alone, I push my arms down to lift my head from the mud, spitting out the disgusting muck that has entered my mouth, and look at where the elf stands.

  A smile is curling his lips as lightning dances across his hands, the tiny bolts weaving in and out of his fingers, and I narrow my eyes at him. I may not have magic, and my wings may be hurt, but there’s nothing wrong with my mouth.

  “Hey, Pencil Dick!” I yell, and I feel a small amount of satisfaction at seeing his smile falter. “Yea, you. What’s wrong? Mommy not give you enough love as a child, so now you have to torment young girls?” I ask, and watch his face grow as stormy as the sky above, but I’m not through yet. “Or was it daddy? Yea, I bet that’s it. You have that look about you of someone seeking daddy’s approval. Well, news flash. Unless he’s a sadistic, limp dick fuck like you, then this ain’t gonna do it.”

  “Shut the hell up! You know nothing! I seek nothing from that asshole. Nothing!”

  He’s screaming by the time he finishes, spittle flying from his mouth, and lightning begins to strike erratically through the sky. It’s so loud that I can’t hear, but it’s obvious he’s lost control. Which is just what I want as I feel something coming toward us. An energy that is stronger, more powerful, than his summer storm and much deadlier.

  “What’s that? What did you do?” he asks, looking uncertain for the first time since he announced himself, but all I can do is grin as I push myself up onto my trembling legs, mud caking my body, but I won’t lie in the mud and wait to be rescued.

  "That would be the cause of your bad day," I say, the temperature rising with every passing second. Knowing that signifies Maksim's, and the others' approach, I aim my own self-satisfied smile his way.

  The storm grows stronger as I watch his mouth tighten, but he doesn’t get a chance to speak again. Not when a gargoyle and succubus drop into the clearing, both Satine and Gavril having completely shifted, and my breath catches as I take them in.

  Gavril looks as if carved from the strongest rock, his powerful wings spread wide behind him, and Satine’s eyes glow a bright red as the continuing strikes of lightning flashes in stark contrast to her onyx skin. But neither waste the time looking me over as I do them, because they only have eyes for one person, and I can see his face pale, even from this distance. He knows he’s outnumbered.

  Satine and Gavril move at the same time, Gavril’s stone wings and Satine’s webbed black ones beating quickly behind them, as they rush toward the elf. A blur of pink and green beats them to the stranger, the red of his hair and the pink of
hers signaling the arrival of Fifi and Declan.

  They move with a confidence that matches their quick wit like they've been fighting together for years, and Declan lands a punch to the elf's jaw as Fifi sends a kick that has him doubling over.

  At first, it looks like they will gain the upper hand, but they quickly jump back as a bolt of lightning strikes the ground where they just stood. The elf may be outnumbered, but he's not showing any signs that he's ready to quit.

  Moving in to flank them, Satine and Gavril close in on his sides, as Declan and Fifi face him head-on, the four having to jump to dodge the electricity that dances through the sky and randomly shoots straight for them.

  As I watch, wing in too much pain to move, I see that they’re talking, but I can’t hear what they say over the thunder that rolls between the lightning strikes. Whatever it is, the elf must not like, and he shakes his head ‘no’, as he takes a step back.

  While he moves, he circles his hands around each other as the wind picks up and begins to lift my sticky braids and the leaves that lay within the clearing. Flowers are pulled from their roots in the soil as tree limbs break and rush by my head, entering a tunnel that begins to take shape at his back.

  Eyes widening, I watch as the others stumble back from the tornado that is growing larger behind this strange elf, until they turn and begin to sprint in my direction, the motion no doubt difficult as the spinning funnel tries to draw them back in, and yet, the elf remains rooted to his spot. Seemingly untouched by the forceful gails of the storm.

  “Run, Rhia!” Satine yells as they draw nearer, but with the damage to my wing, all I can do is stand there and gape as that great funnel widens with the earth that it swallows.

  “Come on. We need to get out of here,” Gavril says once they reach me, but when he goes to lift me into his arms, I cry out as pain radiates down my wing into my spine, causing black dots to blur within my vision.

  “Don’t lift her! You’ll only do more damage to her wing,” Fifi says calmly, somehow maintaining her cool despite her wig having been sucked into the tornado that is only growing larger by the second.

  I’d like to sit and stare at the shock of platinum hair that is slicked back on her head, but when the howling of the wind abruptly stops, the clearing going deathly silent and still around me, I look up to see what’s happened.

  “Well coat me in butter and serve me for dinner,” Fifi breathes from her spot at my side, and I take in where her gaze has landed.

  Along the tree line is nothing but a wall of flame. It’s like a part of Hell itself has risen, and the Devil with it.

  Hell On Earth

  I blink in astonishment as shapes begin to form within the raging fires, the heat so strong my skin feels tight, and I start to recognize those that step out of the flames.

  Maksim is easy to spot, his hybrid shift into his cherufe form causing him to grow larger as fire drips from his skin, leaving the ground behind him charred as he slowly steps toward the elf.

  At his side, another large form covered in flames moves, and despite the fire that surrounds him, I can make out enough of his features to guess that it’s Brendan.

  He’s not as large as Maksim, but he’s terrifying. He walks like the fire itself carries him and at his back moves the three large shapes of the triplet hellhounds. They’re closer to the size of Clydesdales than dogs, and are as equally intimidating with their synchronized steps that bring them closer to the visibly shaking elf.

  Throw in three fully shifted dragons, easily the size of double decker buses, and a handful of other fire creatures, and I’m not surprised in the least when the elf raises his hands into the air in the universal sign that he’s surrendering.

  “Let me see what I can do for that wing, Honey,” Fifi says into the quiet clearing, but I barely nod as Maksim moves forward with the other fire uses, my heart hurting worse than my wing as I’m forced to accept that they can offer him more than I can.

  I continue to stare until an orange dragon moves and blocks my view, so I finally take in the faces of those around me as Fifi runs her hands down my wing, a cool sensation following the motion.

  Declan’s hair is sticking up at odd angles, looking disheveled and unlike his normally groomed self, but otherwise unharmed. Satine is still in her succubus form, and I can’t help my eyes traveling down her body, appreciation for how the small scraps of fabric of her ripped outfit cover just enough to make me wish I didn’t feel as if someone was hammering nails into my wing.

  After giving her a tired smile, and watching her red eyes fade into chocolate brown, I face Gavril, noting that it doesn’t hurt nearly as bad to move now. Thank you, Fifi.

  “You okay, love?” he asks, and I internally play the nickname inside my head, deciding I like the gravelly way he says it, but when I nod to say that I am, I can’t hide my wince as a fresh wave of pain hits me.

  “I think what she means is no,” Declan says, reaching forward and placing a gentle kiss on my cheek. “I was so worried,” he whispers before pulling away, but I have no chance to reply before Satine steps forward and captures my mouth with her own.

  It’s a different sensation kissing her while she’s shifted, and I find myself missing the smaller height of her normal body. I’ve grown used to being the one to hold her, so this is a new position for her. Pulling back, and leaving me breathless, Satine meets my eyes, hers flashing red quickly before going back to brown.

  “No more running off alone, Rhia. No more,” she orders, but the catch in her voice makes me lean forward and press my forehead to hers.

  “No more. I promise,” I say, drawing back as Gavril steps near and takes my hand in his. It’s cold despite the heat the fires are putting off, and after Satine backs up, I lean into his solid frame. His rock body soothing with its cooler temperature.

  Gavril doesn’t speak as he stands there holding me, but when the heat grows hotter at my back, I finally force myself to turn around.

  Drawing near are Maksim and Brendan, the charred remains of the ground evidence of their presence, and I let my eyes run over Maksim’s face as he moves closer. In this form, this hybrid shift between human and full cherufe, he’s larger, but not so big that I don’t see the kind eyes beneath the flames. Even if they are hardened in anger.

  Unafraid, I step from Gavril’s embrace and meet Maksim halfway. His body changes shape and fires extinguish the closer he comes until finally, he stands as a man before me. His clothes are gone, and even though I let my eyes run over the long length of him, I raise them up and catch his gaze.

  “You were gone,” he says in greeting, voice strained and steam rising from his skin. His anger and shift still close to the surface.

  “I know,” I reply, knowing that I’d been foolish in running off. Even if I had felt like my world was crashing down when thinking about Maksim staying behind here. Without me.

  Eyes scanning my face, he raises his hands, but hesitates only inches from touching me. It’s clear that he wants to cover those last few inches and take hold of me, but he resists, despite the anguished look on his face.

  I don’t have his restraint, however, and close that space for him, wrapping myself up in the heat that is almost too much, but lessens the longer I stay wrapped around him.

  Giving in, he brings his large hands down to cup my face, angling it up in his direction and places the gentlest kiss on my lips. “I’ve never been so afraid, Rhia. I thought we wouldn’t make it in time.”

  Swallowing hard at the emotion I hear in his voice, I say, “But you did, Maks. You saved me.”

  We kiss again, this time not as gentle, and I work through my remaining adrenaline by chasing his kisses with my own. I’d be content to stay this way too, but when I hear someone clear their throat, I tear my mouth away from Maksim’s and find Brendan and Fifi standing there.

  She still hasn’t recovered her wig, and surprisingly hasn’t just magicked a new one for herself. But if Brendan cares, you can’t tell from the way he r
ests his hand on her lower back, their bodies looking joined at the hip with how close they stand.

  “I’m glad you’re okay, Rhia. When we get back, we’ll finish healing that wing,” he says, his body back to his human form, the fire djinn from before nowhere to be seen.

  Tired, but grateful for his help, I give a weak smile. “That would be great. Thank you…” Not ready to look at where the elf that tried to kill me was, I maintain eye contact with Brendan. “Thank you for coming too. Is he... Did you kill him?” I finally ask, not sure what I want the answer to be.

  Sighing, Brendan raises his hand to his neck and rubs it. “Unfortunately, no. We started questioning him… persuading him to talk, but looks like he had a cyanide tablet. Bit down and took his own life before we could get much out of him. Shame too. I’d like to know who was stupid enough to send someone to my turf.”

  Brendan looks angry, and I turn my eyes from him, looking out and finding no body on the ground. I absently note as I search, that Maksim is now wearing pants, compliments of Fifi I'm sure.

  “Yea, I wanted to question him some more myself!" Maksim's angry voice pulls my attention back, and I watch as he and Brendan share a look. One that reminds me all over again of why we're all out here anyway. I was going to lose him.

  “Nothing could be done, son. That’s not your fault. But I hope you see what I mean now. That we take care of our own. Maybe you’ll reconsider my offer?”

  “No. Thank you, but no,” Maksim says and looks down at me. “I already told you, I have a home,” he adds, and my heart swells as tears form in my eyes. Hope distracting me from the pain that still throbs in my wing.

  “What offer?” Fifi asks suspiciously, and it makes me happy to know that she had nothing to do with Brendan’s offer. That she didn’t even know about it. “Well?” she says when Brendan remains quiet, her hands on her perfectly rounded hips.

  Looking younger than I’ve seen him, Brendan actually seems chagrined as he runs his hand down the back of his neck again. Fifi doesn’t appear moved by the action though, and his shoulders droop. His defeat obvious.