by H G Lynch
“Ember, hello? I’m not going to drop this just because you zoned out.” Reid chuckled and ran a finger up the sensitive underside of her foot. The feeling was half-ticklish, half-sensual, and she pulled her foot away to kick him in the chest. He caught her ankle and tilted his head, gazing at her toes consideringly. Whatever he was thinking, Ember didn’t want to know. She yanked her foot back and he sighed, rolling his eyes.
“Don’t tell me you’ve developed a foot fetish,” she grumbled, curling her lip at him.
He made a made a face at her. “Don’t tell me you’re trying to change the subject,” he shot back, smirking.
With a pout, she neatly flipped off the bed, turning her back on him pointedly.
Reid growled in frustration. “Emz, you know I suck at riddles and puzzles and mysteries. And you are the biggest friggin’ enigma I’ve ever come across. There is no way in hell I’m ever going to work out what had you so upset if you don’t at least give me a clue.”
She scoffed, leaned a hip against her dresser and folded her arms as she looked back at him. “Here’s a clue; me not talking about it means I don’t want you to know,” she snapped.
Reid blinked, then scowled. Springing off the bed, he stalked over to her and stared intently down into her face, stubborn determination all over his expression. He wasn’t going to give this up. She should’ve guessed as much. This close, she could see the lines of silver and sapphire in his azure eyes, and pick apart the tones of yellow and bronze in his hair.
Eventually, he gave up on trying to read her expression – which she carefully mastered into a mask of expectant boredom – and she felt the tickling at her temples that meant he was trying to pry his way into her mind.
Quickly and easily, she slammed up her mental walls, and arched a brow at him. “Did you really think that would work?” He knew fine well he couldn’t get into her head unless she let him, and there was no possible way for him to bully his way past her mind barriers, try as he might. He was only wasting his own psychic energy.
He shrugged. “Figured it was worth a try. Now, just tell me what was wrong. Please. I don’t want to have to cajole answers out of you.”
“Uh huh.” She snorted, “Cajoling doesn’t get you answers and you know it. It’s more likely to get you burned.”
“Mmh, doesn’t sound so bad to me,” he murmured, his eyes turning to molten sapphire and smoldering at her.
She hated it when he did that. It was cheating.
Ember snapped a flame off her fingers and held it up to his face, just inches from the ends of his hair, but he didn’t flinch. “Wanna try it then?” she taunted.
“Oh yes.” He grabbed her wrist and pushed it aside, lunging forward to catch her lips with his in a kiss that truly did burn. It sent sparks all the way to her toes, and blood rose to her cheeks. Then he pulled away and winked at her before dropping back down on her bed.
Still catching her breath, Ember scowled half-heartedly at him. “Sleaze,” she accused.
He pulled a faux-hurt face and she rolled her eyes at him. “Only ugly people are sleazy,” he stated it as it were a well-known fact. Arrogant little bastard.
“Nice to know a little about your philosophical view of the world,” she muttered sarcastically, sighing. Watery light trickled in the through the closed curtains, most of the room lit with the amber glow of the bedside lamp. It shone across his face in a way that emphasized his high cheekbones and sculpted lips. The boy was art come to life.
“So, are you going to tell me now?” He ruined the perfect, painting-like innocence with a devilish smile.
She shook her head. “Nope.”
“Why not?” he whined, pouting.
“Because,” she said bluntly.
“That isn’t an answer,” he pointed out, narrowing his eyes.
Ember sighed. He was going to keep at this for days, if not weeks, if she didn’t tell him. He was so bloody persistent sometimes. If she didn’t love him, she’d smack him upside the head…actually, she’d smack him anyway.
She moved to the bed and did so, eliciting a grunt and a surprised, “Hey!” from Reid.
Then, reluctantly, she grumbled, “It was because of Lia.” It was true enough. It was all because of Lia, though she wasn’t going to explain exactly how Lia had upset her. Reid didn’t need to know she was jealous of all the time Sherry was spending with the annoying punk girl, or the fact that Cris and Ricky seemed to adore her too, or the fact that she was constantly flirting with Reid and it bugged her to no end that he flirted back.
Reid looked at her for a long moment, his blue eyes searching her face. Then he frowned. “You don’t like her,” he said, stating it.
She shook her head. “Not one bit.”
“But why? She’s nice and funny and smarter than most of the trash around here—” He looked like he was about to say more, but then he caught the expression on her face and stopped. He sighed. “And that’s why you don’t like her, isn’t it? Because everyone else does.” Ah, so he did have a brain. Well done, Reid. Gold star, she thought mockingly, knowing he didn’t deserve it.
She didn’t say anything, but her face must’ve conveyed something she hadn’t meant it to because he leaned forward and took her hands, drawing her onto his lap. She squirmed for a moment, wanting him to let her go, but he held her firmly and she gave up. There was no way to fight a full-blooded vampire once he had you in his grasp. While he wanted her there, that’s where she’d be. “That’s not all it is, though, is it?” he muttered, mostly to himself she was sure. “This is like the day she bumped into you in the hall. This is because she flirts with me.”
Two points to the vampire boy. Going for the win?
Ember just scowled at him, crossed her arms, and waited for him to say something else or otherwise release her. Blood was burning in her cheeks and she was too ashamed to admit to him that he was right. It was stupid for her to be so insecure, but she’d spent her life being betrayed by those she’d thought she could trust, and she trusted Reid as much as she trusted Sherry, if not more, so it was natural for her to expect him to turn on her. It was part of her nature; to be a paranoid, insecure freak. It was what made her dislike people in general so much.
When she didn’t say anything, Reid tightened his arms around her and tried to meet her eyes, but she refused to look directly at him. His voice was gentle when he asked, "Are you jealous?"
Woo, three points to Reid. Ding, ding, ding!
She tried to keep the bitterness off her face so he wouldn’t know he’d scored the final basket. "Of Lia?" she scoffed.
"Mh-hm."
"No, of course not," she lied, knowing he wouldn’t buy it.
He arched a brow at her, she could see it in the corner of her eye, though she still wouldn’t meet his gaze. "Uh-huh?" he muttered skeptically.
"Okay, maybe a little," she admitted in a small voice.
"You shouldn't be."
"I know."
"You know why?"
"I'm sure you're going to tell me."
He turned her face toward him so she had no option but to meet his bright eyes. "Because I belong to you. You've owned me since the day we met. Since you turned me down when I offered to give a tour of the town. Since you ran away from me at that club. Since you pushed me over that desk in English and threw that crumpled ball of paper off my head in detention and stuck those embarrassing posters of me all over the school. I've been yours since the moment you refused to be mine." He smiled, an achingly sweet smile that made her eyes sting with repressed tears. He always knew just exactly what to say to make her heart go all warm and fuzzy.
With the thought in mind to prove that he belonged to her, Ember leaned into him, wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed him, long and deep. He got the idea quickly and laid back on the bed, pulling her down with him. His long fingers coasted up her sides, dragging her t-shirt with them, and she flicked her tongue over his now-extended, very sensitive fangs, making him moan helplessly. That was what she wa
nted. That was how she proved he belonged to her. Smiling against his mouth, she felt all her insecurity burned away by liquid fire.
*****
It was nearly an hour later before, after showering and changing quickly while Reid changed the bed sheets, Ember got up the nerve to ask what she’d been wanting to ask for days now. It was stupid and childish, but she wanted it – no, needed it, right now. Even after his beautiful words and after she’d claimed him body and soul, she needed the reassurance.
"Reid?" she said softly as she watched him pull on his t-shirt. She was curled amongst the rumbled bed sheets at the end of her bed, toying with the hem of her nightie. She didn't meet his eyes as she asked, "Could you...stay with me tonight? Please?" It was silly, but she didn't want him to leave, even though she knew he'd only be down the hall and if she really wanted, she could talk to him telepathically. That just didn't seem like enough, though; she wanted him here with her, where she could curl up against him and play with his hair and see his lovely face. The face that was currently twisted with confusion and regret.
"Why? Is something wrong?" he asked quietly, frowning.
She shook her head, shrugged delicately. "No, I just...I just want you here," she said, glancing up at him through the disheveled curtain of her hair.
Reid smiled gently but shook his head. "I'm sorry, Firefly, but not tonight. I've got stuff to do, and I'll be up early tomorrow, and God knows if I woke you, you'd rip my head off." He chuckled, but it sounded forced.
Ember tried not to scowl, but she must not have succeeded because Reid gave her a rueful look and tilted her head up with his fingers under her chin.
"Another night, firefly. Just not tonight. I love you." He kissed her lightly on the mouth and stroked his fingers through her hair once before going toward the door.
Ember sighed and murmured, "Love you, too," as he left.
*****
** Reid **
Reid hesitated outside Ember's bedroom door, staring down the empty, dark hallway. He wanted more than anything to go back in there and tell her that the 'stuff he needed to do' could wait, and lie down beside her. He didn't know why she wanted him to stay the night — It wasn't particularly unusual. He sometimes spent the night in her room if it had been a long, stressful day or after they'd had sex, but the look on her face tonight said there was more to it than that. He just needed to work out what was up with her. But he couldn't do that, because he couldn't stay the night with her tonight. He couldn't risk having one of his nightmares while he was with her.
So, feeling like a total moron, he walked down the hall and slipped into his own room. Ricky was stretched out on his bed, legs crossed casually at the ankles, reading. He looked up from his book when Reid came in and shut the door. A knowing look crossed the brunette boy’s face as Reid went to his dresser and pulled out pajama trousers and a clean t-shirt.
“Busy evening?” Ricky intoned, absently flipping a page even though his eyes were on his friend and not the book. It looked like one of those classics by Edgar Allan Poe, from what Reid could tell from here.
He shrugged. “No busier than usual.” His tone sounded dreary even to his own ears, so obviously Ricky picked up on it. His aqua eyes narrowed and he stuck the marker in his book before closing it and putting down on the mattress next to him. He swung his legs over the side of his bed and eyed Reid with that deep, probing interest that really, really annoyed him most of the time. As a guy, he didn’t like having other guys knowing what he was thinking. So it was particularly irritating when Ricky could read him as easily as that damn book.
“What’s up? Normally after you’ve been with Ember, you’re glowing like you’ve got a buzzing, bright star lit up inside you. Tonight, you’re more like a flickering candle. Something’s wrong.” How the brunette boy managed to say such garbled crap with a straight face was beyond Reid, but the fact was, he was right. He didn’t feel like a burning star tonight, unless that star was being dragged slowly and reluctantly into a sucking black hole of guilt.
He sighed, and decided to ignore Ricky. It was just easier than talking about stuff. Plus, if he told the brunette boy that he hadn’t yet told Ember about his nightmares, there’d be one hell of a lecture, which would end with either Ember finding out about it or Ricky getting a broken nose. So, very smartly, he turned on his heel and went into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. He heard Ricky mutter something on the other side of the door that sounded a lot like ‘angry prick’.
Turning on the shower, Reid took a look at himself in the mirror over the sink. As always, he saw a fair-skinned boy with smooth, delicate features, hair the color of gold in sunlight, and eyes that a hundred girls had compared to the sky on a summer’s day. Only Ember ever compared them to anything else; Azurite or sapphire or cobalt, depending on his mood. Sometimes she said it aloud, and sometimes he picked it out of her thoughts when she was too distracted to notice her temples prickling at his mental intrusion. Today, though, his eyes were a washed out sort of pale blue, and faint purple smudges underlined them. His reflection looked tired, and his mouth was pinched with what he knew was guilt. He hated keeping things from Ember, but it was for the best. If he let her know he was having nightmares that were keeping him up at night, she might think him weak, and if she doubted his ability to protect her, he’d be losing part of her trust in the most important thing he did for her – keeping her safe.
With a groan, he resisted the urge to punch the mirror into dusty shards and began stripping off his clothes, tossing them in the wash-basket in the corner of the bathroom. He stepped into the shower and let the hot water run over his muscles. Still agitated, he turned up the heat until it turned his skin red and raw, stinging and burning all the way to his toes. Maybe he could burn away the nightmares this way. He bowed his head and leaned his forehead against the cool, tiled wall of the shower, pressing his hands flat against the tiles too. He stood for a long time, just watching the clear water run off his toes and swirl down the drain.
Once he was scrubbed and dried, his hair turned to a fly-away halo around his head, he yanked on his pajamas and flung the bathroom open, no more relaxed than he’d been before. Ricky had long since resumed reading his book and appeared to be almost finished now. The younger boy didn’t bother looking up as Reid padded, barefoot, to the desk and started digging around in the drawers. He knew what he was looking for, something he’d stashed away with the thought that he’d never need it. It was a trinket he’d picked up for emergencies, like if a faery sprinkled a little nasty psycho-powder in his cheeseburger, or a Kitsune decided to screw with his head.
Eventually, though, his rummaging caught Ricky’s attention and the brunette boy looked up at him with a sigh. “What’re you looking for?” he asked curiously, exasperation laced through his tone.
Reid bit his lip and paused, considering telling Ricky the truth. It would be so much easier to throw him a witty one-liner and leave it at that, knowing Ricky would drop it if he did. But, he really needed to find this thing and Ricky was the one who tidied the room, so he’d be likely to know where it was.
He gave in reluctantly with a grunt. “Do you know where I put that dream-catcher I got when we had that scare with the phooka?” he asked, refusing to meet Ricky’s intent eyes.
Ricky’s expression turned sympathetic and Reid wanted to hit him. “I think it’s in the bottom drawer of your dresser. You stuck it there when you decided, and I quote, ‘Wool and feathers are never going to stop a mind-screwing spell anyway’,” Ricky said with deliberate lightness, knowing that if he acted all concerned, Reid would take his head off for it.
With a snort, Reid dropped to his knees and dug through the bottom drawer of his dresser until his fingers touched rough wool and glass beads strung together on a wooden frame of circles. He pulled the dream-catcher out from under a pile of jumpers he was never likely to wear and held it up to the light. The colored glass beads glistened eerily and the snow-white feathers – supposedly from doves –
swung lazily. It was a pretty enough creation; he just hoped it worked. Still dubious, but too desperate to care, he pinned it to the wall over his pillow and scowled at it. He felt like an idiot.
As it turned out, he was right to feel like an idiot. That night, when exhaustion finally overcame him, he slipped into another of those abominable nightmares.
*****
Once again, he was thrown back into horrid memories he’d much rather forget. This time, he was in that blasted, evil cage, watching that mad man playing with his Ember like she was no more than an amusing lab rat. It was true that most of his time in that cage had been a mystery to him, blocked away behind a subconscious wall, but it was coming back to him in these nightmares. He wished he could put the wall back up.
“I know you’ll do anything to keep your friends from being hurt…” the professor taunted Ember as she struggled against her chains.
Reid was sure she wasn’t even aware she was doing it. He could see the fury and agony in her eyes as the professor nodded to one of the guards in his cage, signaling the guard to proceed with more torture. The man, dressed all in black, took Reid’s arm. Blurrily, he saw the skin of his forearm was lined with cuts, his fingers stung with burns. He heard Ember bite back a muffled sob of horror, her eyes glistening with tears. The guard took his knife and carved another gash in Reid’s arm, cutting deep into the muscle. Pure blistering pain shot up his arm and he locked his teeth together, grunting through the pain. He wouldn’t scream, he wouldn’t give the professor that pleasure, or Ember that agony. The guard moved the knife further up his arm and got ready to make another cut, pressing the sinful blade against his skin, kissing his nerves with the anticipation of more burning pain. His ears rang as Ember screamed at him.
“No! Stop it! Stop! Please, don’t…” Her voice was so shrill and raw with utter terror, it bent Reid’s mind. He couldn’t stand to hear her scream his name in such suffering, it was almost worse than the claws of the knives.
