TIED (A Fire Born Novel)

by Laney McMann

  My mother stood in the kitchen doorway, scowling. “Only Benny. Do you understand?”

  I nodded, refusing to look at her.

  Benny laughed. “Shower time.”

  “Benny … No.” I planted my feet.

  “Go!” She pointed toward the stairs, an evil grin on her pretty, round face.

  “Fine.” I snapped at her. There was no use arguing. She’d pester me all night long.

  • • •

  I begrudgingly climbed into Benny’s car after getting dressed, shaking my head as we drove. I didn’t even ask where we were going.

  As she pulled up to the club we hadn’t been to in ages, I said, “Aw, Benny … dancing? You’re taking me out dancing?” I couldn’t think of anything I wanted to do less.

  “Oh, stop, it’ll be fun. You need to burn off some fuel.”

  “Fuel? What fuel? I’ve been burning that candle-thing at both ends for months. There’s no fuel left!”

  “We’re going inside, and you’re going to have a good time. Period.” She parked the car.

  I stuck my tongue out at her.

  “That’s attractive.”

  She got out, and waited, tapping her black high-heeled shoe against the pavement. I realized she was clad in a black mini dress, a small golden sweater with tiny sleeves over it.

  “You planned this,” I said. “I didn’t even notice you were dressed up.”

  She shrugged. “You were upset. Anyway, it’ll be fun. When’s the last time we had a girl’s night?”

  I sighed and lumbered unwillingly into the all-ages club. It was thick with the smell of sweet liquid fog. Purple lights cast eerie trails up and down the walls, and blinding strobe lights flashed random patterns on the black dance floor. Colored glass bottles decorated shelves behind the massive wooden bar to the left of the room. Ugh. It was the same as I remembered. I’d hated the place since the first time I’d come. The smell, the people—all of it.

  I groaned, slumped my shoulders, and pushed across the crowded dance floor beside Benny.

  “I don’t want anything, don’t order for me,” I said, standing next to her at the bar.

  She started a conversation with Sam, who was making drinks. No wonder we came here. He nodded in my direction, in his usual enigmatic way.

  “Hey,” I said, with no enthusiasm.

  “Where’s your new friend?” Sarcasm laced his words.

  I rolled my eyes, steering my gaze away from him, not in the mood for his goading comments. “He’s around.”

  I flopped down at the only open table, counting the minutes I would have to endure until we left, feeling the bass of the music pounding through my chest. Benny tried to drag me out to dance, but I’d glued myself into my chair.

  “Let’s go,” I complained for the fifth time as she danced by me. “This place sucks.”

  “Dance! That’s why we’re here.”

  “I dance everyday!” I had to yell to even hear myself.

  Benny ignored me.

  “I’m going home!”

  That stopped her. “Okay, okay, I’ll take you.”

  “Good.” I stomped off, pushing my way toward the door. She jogged alongside me, knocking into people.

  “I’m only trying to help.”

  “This isn‘t helping.”

  The moon paled against the darkness, nothing more than a blurred white sliver in the ink sky. Even the stars seemed dull and distant. Benny hit the keyless remote on her car, the headlights flickering in the parking lot ahead of us.

  “So … you going to fill me in on the Max situation?”

  “As soon as I figure it out,” I mumbled.

  She opened her car door. “Whatever you say. It was only a matter of time, though.” She gave a twisted grin and climbed into the car.

  What’s that supposed to mean?

  I reached for my door handle, ready to question her, when my head slammed against the metal with a dull crack. Spots of light flashed through my mind as I fell to the ground. Sticky liquid crawled across my face, and I searched the pavement for the slippery substance that must’ve been under my feet, causing my fall, staggering to hands and knees. Invisible arms hurled me against the car a second time, the jolt momentarily paralyzing me, before I pushed to my unsteady feet with my head throbbing. Sheer, illuminated figures quivered in the distance. The chill of fear shook me from head to foot as deafening screams pierced my mind.

  “Layla!” Pounding, running feet sounded somewhere in the distance.

  “Layla! Get down on the ground. Now!”

  I tried to focus on the voice, but wails kept building—muddling my thoughts, luring me up.

  “Laylaaaa!” The voice moved closer, breath heaving.

  I planted my feet, determined to fight back, and squinted into the black night, heat bubbling and stirring in the pit of my stomach and coursing through my limbs.

  “Layla! What are you doing? Get down!”

  I shook my head, refusing to cower, raising my arms. A distant caw called from the recesses of my mind, encouraging me, pushing me. Taunting me. I took a step forward, and a burst of wind shot past me with the force of a hurricane, pinning me back against the side of the car. Street lights crashed to the ground, ripped from their foundations, exploding in showers of sparks. Cars hurtled through the parking lot, crashing into one another in mid air, metal and debris breaking off and careening in every direction. The wind whipped through the night with the roar of a sonic boom, and the wails stopped.

  Footsteps on pavement, crickets, traffic noises— tranquil sounds of night—all returned in a gentle swelling hum.

  “Layla?” Arms gathered around my waist. “Look at me.”

  My head lolled back like it wasn’t attached to my neck.

  “Whoa … I’ve got you.” Max strengthened his hold.

  Like the sharp pop of a whip, my senses snapped at me. “I can’t breathe. It’s so hot.” My palms slipped, attempting to hold onto his neck.

  Panic washed his face as he gripped me tighter. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

  An odd sensation burned every bare inch of my skin—like hot coals threatening to erupt in a blaze.

  “It’s okay now.” He panted, brushing hair from my face. “Just breathe.”

  I hoped I wasn’t burning him. “I’m happy to see you,” I said into the crook of his neck.

  He chuckled. “Can you stand?”

  “I think so.”

  “Are we leaving, or what?” Benny rolled the passenger window down, and leaned across the passenger seat, looking up at me.

  Did she not see all of that? Again? “Uh,” was all I could manage.

  She glanced up toward Max. “Where’d you come from?”

  “Oh, I was driving by when I saw you guys. Thought I’d say hey.”

  His lie came out smoothly, naturally. That’s not a good sign.

  “Do you mind if I take Layla home?” he asked as though he needed her permission.

  “Oh, right, yeah sure, of course.” She waved and took off.

  “Let’s get you to my car.” He bent down, knocked his hand across the back of my knees making me fall into his arms, and carried me to the side street along the curb. “How’s your head?”

  I touched the back of my scalp where I’d hit steel. It was sore, but no blood came off on my fingers. “Okay, I guess. I can walk.”

  Max opened his car door and slid me onto the seat. “That doesn’t mean you should.” He reached over, clipped my seatbelt in and touched the back of my head. “So …” he said, still leaning over me, “… what were you thinking back there? Because, it looked like you were planning to fight.”

  “I was.”

  “What do you mean you were? Layla …” He scowled, sounding exasperated, irritated, as he shook his head. “How do you feel?” He placed his palm across my forehead.

  “What’er you doing?” I swatted his hand away.

  “How do you feel, Layla?” His tone went from nurturing to demanding.r />
  I stared up at the dark sky, surveyed the cars parked neatly in their spaces, and the streetlights standing intact. “Like a crazy person. But that’s kind of my thing these days.”

  “Put your head back.” He sighed and closed the door, walking around to the driver’s side. He snapped his seat belt into place. “Lie back, please.”

  “W-what’s happening to me?”

  “Just lie back, please.”

  “Tell me.” My words came out in a slur, vision slipping, blurring the street lights.

  “I will. Rest first.”

  I glared at him, but it probably looked more like I was cross-eyed.

  “Please.” He insisted.

  I leaned my head against the seat.

  “Thank you.” He started the engine, faint familiar music drifting through the car.

  “I know this song.”

  “You should.” He turned up the volume a little.

  “My mother used to play it for me when I was little. I’d forgotten that.” A faint smile played on my lips as, surprised by the memory and trying to place it, I let the music lull me, my eyes closing.

  Max reached over and gave my hand a squeeze. “So, you broke up with Devon?” He grinned, putting the car into gear and pulling away.

  “I did.” My words were barely a whisper.

  “Hey, Lay …”

  “Hmm?”

  “Thank you.”

  “For what?” I tried to keep my eyes open.

  “Choosing me.”

  A slack smile spread across my face. “There was never a choice.”

  He reached for my hand and raised it to his lips, kissing my fingertips.

  “It’s Irish … the music. I remember …”

  He rested our entwined hands on my knee. “Like you.”

  Images flashed through my mind in swift fluid motion.

  ••

  Reaching branches run across the ceiling, sunlight glittering, basking the Queen in a speckled golden light. She sits patiently, resting her chin in her hands, her throne gleaming so starkly my eyes sting. A soft tread of footsteps shifts my attention to a gilded arched doorway, from where my mother approaches.

  The Queen acknowledges her with a brusque nod of her head.

  “Sister.” Lorelei takes the matching throne at her left.

  “You wish to speak with me?” The Queen’s tone is one of annoyance.

  “I believe you know of my concerns. I have voiced them before.”

  “You have. Is there something you wish to add? Something of which I am not already aware?”

  “The boy has returned. He has revealed himself to Teine once again.”

  “I told you years ago that you were a fool to think your tricks would separate them for long.”

  “Tricks? These are no tricks! Teine is in danger as long as the boy is near her. This is fact. Why do you think he stayed away so long? He knows it to be true. He wants to protect her as much as I. He will break the Tie if I ask.”

  “Break the Tie? Are you mad? Teine believed herself insane at your hands. MacKenzie has given her life back, and you wish to steal it again? They are older now, and will not succumb to your rules anymore. They are drawn together. It will always be so.”

  “I do not want this fate for my daughter!”

  “So you will hurt her? Your own child? After you yourself know the kind of pain you will inflict upon her?”

  “She still has a chance at a normal life. She does not need to know of this destiny. She has not chosen this.” My mother bows her head. “I will forbid her from this realm.”

  The Queen inhales sharply as though struck in the chest. “Forbid her? You would forbid her from us? From her family here. This is her home. A home she belongs to and remembers little about because of you.”

  “I will protect my daughter. I will block the doorways.”

  “You would destroy us?” The Queen rises to her feet, contempt lacing her tone.

  “I will do what is best for my daughter and nothing more. Your light shall remain.”

  “Do as you must.” The Queen snaps, gathering her robes about her. “The doorways will not hold her back. Do not make the mistake of forgetting who she is.” She composes herself. “Know that you will only cause yourself heartache. Once Teine knows the truth, you will have no chance of swaying her. Whether you agree with it or not, the boy is her fate.” Her footfalls echo off the marble floor.

  • • •

  I rolled over to my side in bed, drenched in a cold sweat, and sat up, out of breath. Clearing away the hair clinging to my neck, I eyed my dark room.

  When did I come home?

  Everything was in order. All in place.

  Only a nightmare.

  I shook my head, hoping the motion might knock the vision away, and rubbed my eyes trying to see the alarm clock. Three-thirty-five A.M. flashed in orange. I collapsed against my pillows, and kicked at the blankets, repositioning them as I rolled back on my side.

  A nightmare. That’s all.

  11

  I’d been dreading history class all morning, apprehensive about what I might see in Devon’s face. I made the walk across campus at snail-speed, hoping History would be over by the time I made it, but I needn’t have bothered. Devon wasn’t in the classroom. He was outside the doorway, with his face partially hidden by Dena’s, who stood smothering him in kisses.

  My pulse sped into overdrive.

  Between her vamp, patent leather stiletto heels, a too-short black mini skirt and charcoal acrylic nails, I barely recognized her. Walking by them with leaden feet and disbelief, my heart dropped to somewhere near my ankles, my blood pressure rising to near boiling.

  Benny stepped between us and led me inside the classroom as the warning bell rang, and the love birds made a slow, exaggerated walk inside with Dena hanging from and whispering to a red-faced and grinning Devon.

  As I slouched down in my seat, hoping I’d dissolve into my chair, everyone faced the two of them before shifting to me, and I busied myself within the cavernous depths of my backpack.

  • • •

  “He’s just using her to make you jealous.” Benny shoved her books into her full locker after class.

  “Mission accomplished.”

  “Listen, you and Max …”

  “This isn’t about Max,” I said. “Devon has nothing to do with that, I just didn’t think he’d …”

  “Go after your enemy? He didn’t; she did. He’s crushed, Lay. You can’t blame him for rebounding into her arms.”

  “I can’t?” I lugged my backpack over my shoulder and left her standing in the hallway. I had no right to be upset, none at all, but my heart wasn’t listening to my head.

  Benny followed me into Algebra as Mr. Jones began walking the aisles, handing back our exams—the one I’d forgotten about. A giant red D blazed back at me from the top of my paper. I folded it and stuffed it in my bag.

  “We will be moving on and beginning our review for the final exam today. For any of you who did not do well on this test …” He glanced at me briefly. “I suggest you attend help sessions after school in my office.” He scrawled his excuse for writing on the whiteboard while the class took out their textbooks.

  “How’d you do?” Benny leaned forward from her desk.

  “Same as always.”

  “I’ll go to help sessions with you if you want me to.”

  “You get straight A’s, Ben. It might be a little obvious why you’re there.”

  “Then let me help you.”

  “We’ve tried that. You’re a crappy teacher. I’ll go by myself.”

  Once again, I had zero desire to try to decipher Mr. Jones’ explanations about algebra. It was akin to learning a different language; I didn’t understand anything he said, but I couldn’t fail the class.

  “What is that?” Benny asked, rubbing my neck with her thumb.

  “Stop.” I pushed her hand away. “Did you just lick me? Gross.”

  “Lay … i
t’s blood.” Her voice softened. “You have blood on your neck.” She touched it again. “Why is there blood on your neck?”

  I touched the wet spot where she’d dragged her spit-covered thumb.

  “I don’t know. I probably scratched an old mosquito bite.”

  “Big mosquito.” She laid her finger on it again.

  “Will you stop?” I covered it with my hair.

  I didn’t remember everything from the night before, and clearly neither did Benny, but my skull cracking the side of the car was pretty vivid. My head seemed okay, though, for once, all things considered. I rubbed my neck again, hoping the blood was no longer visible. Strangely, fear wasn’t in the forefront of my mind; curiosity had taken its place.

  Something inside me had changed—almost as though I’d woken up after a long, exhausting sleep.

  • • •

  Mr. Jones sat at his desk scribbling notes, as I walked into his office after class.

  He glanced up. “Miss LaBelle, what can I do for you today?” He busied himself with his paper again.

  “I need to set up help sessions. For the final.” The thought of extra math sent me into a state of anxiety.

  He rifled through his class calendar. “Let me see … tomorrow afternoon is available.” He glanced up again and went rigid, his body rocking back and forth.

  “Mr. Jones?”

  No response.

  “Mr. Jones, are you all right?” I took an apprehensive step forward.

  His hand shot up toward my neck. I lurched backward, missing his reach by inches as he forced his arm back down with a crash, throwing the contents of his desk across the floor.

  “No!” He shuddered, collapsed, his body jumping in spasms as he slumped down, and mumbled under his breath, “Only a child, a child. No. I won’t.” He shook his head from side to side, drool dribbling from his mouth before he went still and silent, his eyes staring vacantly.

  “Mr. Jones!” I leapt over the desk and propped him up, leaning his head against the back of the chair. “Help!”

  • • •

  The crowd of onlookers dispersed as the paramedics wheeled Mr. Jones into the ambulance, and I was left trying to explain to Mrs. Blake, the school nurse, and Mr. Thomas, our principal, what happened.

  “It’s all right, dear, we know you aren’t to blame.” Mrs. Blake patted my shoulder. “Mr. Jones has been under a lot of strain this year. Very unfortunate.” She shook her head. “Mr. Thomas, I believe Layla should be free to go back to class. There’s nothing more she can tell us.”