by H G Lynch
He shook his head, confused, feeling his stomach sinking. "Then why did you stay with me! Why didn't you tell me to go to hell? You had every right to and you didn't! Why?"
"Because I love you!" she yelled, throwing up her arms. Her eyes flashed with anger and something else, something he didn’t even want to identify. Her face twisted and her eyes started to fill again. He couldn’t stand it, but he didn’t dare touch her, not now.
Instead, he whispered in an agonized voice, "Then don’t go."
She made a sound that could have been a laugh if it hadn’t been so sharp and humorless. It sounded like someone had punched her in the gut, and the brief smile on her face wasn’t a real smile, just a sarcastic movement of her mouth. A tear hung in her lashes, and her lips trembled.
“It’s not that easy.” She spoke softly, her eyes full of regret. "It isn't as simple as wanting to forgive and move on, to keep loving someone after they betray you, no matter how unintentional. Once trust is broken...you can glue it back together but it'll never be exactly the same."
He bit his lip, shaking his head. "I...I don't...Ember, I still love you."
Without her, he was nothing and nobody, an angel who'd been floating with his beautiful love and now he'd fallen. Without her, he was a playboy who'd given up his reputation for love and ruined it, left with nothing but a broken heart and shame.
But without him? Ember was still Ember. She'd been the same Ember since she arrived at Acorn Hills and loving him hadn't changed her, not much. Maybe it had made her a little less cynical, less fatalistic, less paranoid, but becoming what she was had had more of an effect than love. Being part vampire had made her darker, colder...if possible, stronger.
Without him, she would still be all those things and plenty more; she'd ache for a little while, probably have her paranoia return tenfold for his betrayal, but she'd still mostly be who she was before she'd met him.
He could never be who he was before he'd met her. Who he was now had everything to do with Ember, she was what made him who he was now. He was Reid Ashton, not a playboy, not a notoriously arrogant tosser, not the indifferent, cool guy who liked getting into fights for the hell of getting into fights. No, he was Reid Ashton, the boy who'd met his match and fallen for his nemesis, the boy who got in fights over his lady's honor, the boy who would lay his life on the line — had done already, several times — for his love, the boy who'd stopped drinking every weekend and stopped sleeping around and stopped smoking and stopped trying to find a thrill in the most dangerous — sometimes criminal – ways because he got all the adrenaline he needed and more every time he saw Ember smile at him. That's who he was now.
"I don't want to do this but...I have to. I just can't be with you anymore, I can't be with you without being able to trust you."
Feeling his eyes sting miserably, he whispered, “Don’t break my heart, Ember. I’ll never be able to put it back together.”
She opened her mouth to reply, her mouth trembled, and she snapped it shut, turning away from him. And just like that, with tears rolling down her cheeks and agony in her beautiful eyes, she spun and ran away.
*****
** Ember **
Ember ran. She ran away from Reid, away from the school, and kept running. Logically, she knew she couldn’t run away from her problems, from the pain, but she could try. And anyway, she wasn’t just running away from there, she was running to somewhere. To Brandon and Perry, who she knew would believe her about Lia and help her get rid of the bitch once and for all. If she could behead the siren girl herself, she’d do it with pleasure, and she would take her time about it too. So she ran along the side of the road, ignoring the way the wild wind forced her hair into her eyes and mouth, and pretending there weren’t tears pouring down her cheeks and there wasn’t a knot of agonizing coldness burning behind her ribs. She ran so fast she was getting a stitch and her legs were starting to ache, but she didn’t care. The pain was good. It distracted her from the thoughts swirling inside her head like a swarm of angry wasps.
By the time she reached the old creaking house, hoping like mad that Brandon and Perry were inside, her lungs burned and there was a sharp, pulling pain up her left side. She pressed her hands to the aching stitch and gasped on the doorstep for a moment. She didn’t want Brandon to see her in such a state. From inside, though, she heard the groan of the big steel door swinging open, and soft footsteps scuffing the moldy wooden floor. Brandon must have heard her coming. Hastily, she swiped away the tears on her face and straightened up, gritting her teeth against the pain in her side. Dammit, drowning had really taken it out of her. She was still weak from swallowing half the lake and having it turn to ice inside her.
The door swung open with a low whine of protest, and Brandon stood behind it, looking expectant. Perry wasn’t with him. Behind him, the abandoned house was dim and dusty and a cold, stale draft blew out past him. He sighed, whether in relief or irritation, she wasn’t sure. “Ember, you’re okay! Oh, good, I’d started to worry that…” He started, apparently relieved, which surprised her. But then his eyes fixed on her properly and widened. His mouth turned down, something like concern sneaking into his dark eyes. “You’re not okay, are you? What happened? Did the siren—”
She shook her head sharply, cutting him off. “Lia. Lia’s the siren,” she panted through her teeth, putting one hand back to her aching side to keep from doubling over. Brandon looked down at her for a moment, examining her, and she wanted to growl at him, but she didn’t have the breath. The wind lashed her hair across her face, making strands stick to her wet cheeks. She shivered, realizing at last that she was only wearing a t-shirt and jeans and a mismatched pair of trainers. She must have picked up the wrong shoe in her haste to get away from Sherry, and she’d forgotten a jacket.
Frowning, Brandon asked quietly, “Are you sure? I mean, I understand you don’t like Liandra, so are you sure you’re not just—”
Angry that he didn’t believe her, Ember slammed a hand against the door and snarled breathlessly, glaring at him furiously. He had to believe her. She needed him to believe her. She needed his help taking Lia out – not that she’d admit it in those words. “Lia.Is.The.Siren. Ask Reid if you have to.” She spat his name, feeling it burn her tongue. “But if you don’t get to the lake and help me kill the bitch right now, I’ll do it myself. I want her dead.” Her fangs slid out and sliced her lip, but she barely noticed, even as her own blood spread over her tongue, warm and salty and bitter with rage and pain.
Slowly, carefully, Brandon nodded. He ran a hand through his brown hair, tousling it, and sighed. “I believe you,” he said softly.
It wasn’t until he said those words that Ember realized how desperately she’d wanted him to believe her, not just because she needed his help but because she needed to know someone else was on her side. Sure, Hiro was on her side, but she didn’t know where he was right now, and she didn’t have the patience to track him down. She wanted Lia gone now. She wasn’t waiting any longer to take the siren out.
*****
When they reached the lake, Ember was completely unsurprised to see Hiro there, glaring off at water with his arms crossed over his chest. She was a little surprised to see Cris, though, and she frowned. Hiro must have brought him along, but why? Cris appeared to be firmly on the ‘Lia is awesome’ squad. Did he know they were about to destroy the bitch?
As soon as Ember stepped into the clearing, Hiro snapped to attention, his head swinging toward her. There was something on his face, some expression she couldn’t – or didn’t want to – decipher, but it made her want to cry for some reason. He didn’t move from his spot in the shadows of the shivering, frosty trees, but he inclined his head in a nod of silent communication. He believed her about Lia, and he was here to help her get rid of the man-stealing siren. Good. They would need his magic for sure.
Someone behind her put a hand on her shoulder, and Ember looked up, surprised to see Perry smiling encouragingly down at her. She smi
led back gratefully and took a deep breath, steeling herself and pushing all her thoughts of Reid and Sherry, and all her pain and heartbreak, to the back of her mind where she could lock it away for as long as possible. She would deal with it all later…or maybe never.
Straightening her spine, she raised her chin and clapped twice to get everyone’s attention. She thought she saw the corner of Hiro’s mouth twitch in amusement, shot him a warning look, and he rolled his eyes. Cris turned to look at her, his shoulders hunched and his hands shoved into his pockets. There were lines around his mouth and his eyes looked sad and rueful. Ember didn’t smile at him, but she didn’t glare either. For some reason, she didn’t hold his fondness of Lia against him as much as she did everyone else. Maybe it was because he hadn’t done anything to hurt her besides being friendly to the girl who stole her boyfriend.
“Okay people, listen up! There’s a monster in that lake,” – She pointed to the glittering lake, saw a thin layer of frost crawling over the rippling surface, and smirked. Oh yeah, Lia was in there, and she was listening. Good. – “And we’re going to, well, we’re going to kill it. Anyone who isn’t okay with that idea should bugger off now or risk being annihilated later. She paused, her gaze falling pointedly on Cris. He smiled sadly and shook his head. Ember nodded once in approval. “Good. In that case, let’s get on with this.”
She turned to Brandon and he motioned to Perry to bring over the Grimoire they’d found in the meeting den. Apparently, it had a stripping spell in it, meant to strip the magic power from any Fey. There was also a spell for resisting a siren’s song. They’d need that because Ember was certain that Lia would try to sing her way out of trouble. For whatever reason, the siren song didn’t work on Ember or Hiro, but it would work on everyone else and they needed everyone working on ripping Lia’s power out of her. Once her magic was gone, Ember could take her out. Oh, sure, once her power was gone, she was no longer a threat…but Ember didn’t really care. Lia had killed people, innocents, and she’d torn Ember’s life apart – Lia would pay for that with her life.
Flipping the dusty Grimoire open, Brandon leafed through the yellowed, crusty pages until he found the right spell. The resistance spell was first. It needed a few ingredients to work, and they’d brought that with them from the den. There was a jar of pondweed in vinegar and a glass vial of some sort of purple Faery powder. Kneeling, Brandon tipped the powder and pondweed into a glass bowl Perry had been carrying in his pocket, and handed the Grimoire to Ember so she could do the rest. It was hard to read the scribbly, faded writing on the page, but she could just make out what she was supposed to do. No chanting this time, but she needed to boil the contents of the bowl and add a drop of her witch blood to seal the protection from Faery compulsion. Then the boys had to drink it. The stuff in her blood was meant to cast a bubble of compulsion resistance around them, but she wasn’t sure she was buying that. Sherry had some of her blood in her, and she’d fallen prey to Lia’s charisma. And she wasn’t even going to think about Reid.
Still, this spell was the best hope they had. So she knelt beside Brandon and placed the book on the ground in front of her, lifting the small glass bowl into her palms. Around her, ice was slowly crawling across the grass and up the trees like glistening moss in fast forward, sucking the heat from the air and the plants, but there was still more than enough to bring the strange mixture in the bowl to the boil. Throwing out the net of her invisi-limb, she caught the heat trying to escape the chill by drifting upward, toward the darkening clouds. A clap of thunder sounded, loud enough to make Ember jerk, but she didn’t drop her bowl. She reigned in the heat quickly, pulling it into her body and feeling it spread under her skin before settling in her hands. She closed her eyes, focusing, turning up the heat a notch until the potion in the bowl began to steam, giving off a foul smell. Gagging, she held her breath. Then a spark of pain touched her wrist and her eyes flew open. “Ouch!” she hissed, glaring at the bubbling contents of the bowl. It was spitting hot vinegar onto her skin like bacon grease.
From over her shoulder, Perry handed her a thin, shiny blade and she bit her lip as she took it and pressed the edge of the dagger to her wrist. With one sharp movement, she sliced her wrist, creating just a small cut, but she’d nicked a vein and blood poured out freely. Dropping the dagger and swapping the bowl to her other hand, she held her wrist over the steaming, gurgling potion and watched her blood turn the mixture from green to grey to brown, and then the cut sealed itself and she wiped her bloody wrist on her jeans.
She looked up at Brandon as she released her hold on her magic and let the heat drain away until the potion stopped bubbling. Only, Brandon was standing much farther away than when she’d started the potion-making. He was nearly thirty feet away, standing by the trees, the line of his shoulders tense. Confused, Ember looked round and saw Perry was hovering several meters away as well.
“Uh, guys? The potion’s done,” she said, beckoning them over. Cris took her hand as she tried to lower it, and used the bottom of his t-shirt to wipe off a smear of blood she’d missed. He smiled faintly in response to her shocked expression, shrugging.
“They’re not used to the scent of your blood, remember? Kind of hits you like a train the first time,” he explained and Ember blinked. She’d forgotten how her blood could affect vampires. She’d gotten so used to bleeding around Reid and Ricky, she’d never thought twice about it. But, of course, they were accustomed to the intense scent of her blood from having been around it so much. Brandon and Perry weren’t.
While Brandon and Perry cautiously worked their way back over to her, she took the chance to talk to Cris. Pulling her hand back to herself, she watched his face intently as she spoke. “Cris?” she said softly. His jade eyes fixed on hers and he blinked, the corners of his mouth turning down as if he knew what was coming. “You know Lia’s the siren, right?”
There was a flicker of guilt and shame in his eyes, and he lowered his gaze to the bowl of still-steaming muck between them. He nodded. “Yeah, I know. Hiro told me. I wasn’t sure I believed it at first, but… it makes sense. I mean, the way she has everyone wrapped around her little finger—”
Ember arched a brow skeptically. “Weren’t you wrapped around her little finger just like the rest of them?”
He shook his head. “No, not really. I liked her okay to start with, I just wanted to be nice, but why do you think I’ve been so busy with P.I. jobs lately? I only went to the cinema with her and Sherry and everyone because I thought there might be something funky going on and I wanted to keep an eye on things. But I don’t like Lia, ever since she made...well, since she made Reid kiss her.”
“So…” Ember rolled the new information around inside her head and a puzzle piece clicked into place. “So, her siren charm doesn’t work on you? It must not work on Fae.”
He put an arm around her and squeezed her shoulder. “Everything will be okay, Emz. Somehow, it’ll be okay. It always is in the end,” he assured her gently. But even he didn’t sound like he was so certain of it.
Someone cleared their throat, and Ember hastily wiped her eyes, glaring up at Brandon who just stared at her uncomfortably, as if he had something to say but didn’t dare say it. She hoped he wouldn’t anyway. It was bad enough she was working with him here, but if he started acting all concerned and sympathetic like an actual friend, she’d have to hit him. “Um, I…” He started, and she glared at him harder. He shut up.
Perry, though, behind him, grinned at her. “Your blood is strong stuff, you know that? I swear just the scent could make a vamp high. Like pot,” he said, and Ember laughed despite herself.
Cris made a soft noise like a snort, and Brandon scowled. Ah, that was better. She needed everyone to be themselves right now, otherwise she’d never make it through this without breaking down. If everyone started trying to comfort her, she’d be an inconsolable mess.
Pushing herself to her feet, Ember brushed the grass and frost off her jeans, then bent to pick up the bow
l. She held it out to Brandon, offering it with a falsely bright smile. “Your soup, sir. Is there anything else I can get for you? Eye of newt perhaps?”
Brandon pulled a face, staring at the goopy brown contents of the bowl. It looked like mud, truthfully. Ember was glad she wasn’t the one drinking it. Hesitantly, he brought the bowl to his lips and closed his eyes, tipping it up so the disgusting potion ran into his mouth. Abruptly, he brought the bowl down and handed it to Perry, his face scrunched up in disgust. Ember saw his throat move as he swallowed, and he promptly began coughing, doubling over, his skin looking faintly green though that could have just been her imagination. “God, that’s-ugh. That’s putrid,” he gasped, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth.
Perry frowned into the bowl. “Well, that’s encouraging,” he muttered, watching Brandon retching. Then he shrugged. “To hell with it; down the hatch.” He lifted the bowl to his mouth and took a gulp of the brown muck. Ember felt vaguely sick just watching him. He handed off the bowl to an anxious-looking Cris, and curled a lip, shaking his head. “Blegh, that’s nasty. Surprisingly, not the worst thing I’ve ever tasted though,” he said.
Brandon looked at him like he was crazy – Ember considered the possibility that maybe he was. But that was irrelevant.
“What the hell have you tasted that’s worse than that?” Brandon blurted, leaning one hand on his knee, looking like he still might puke yet.
Perry shrugged, and Brandon shook his head, obviously deciding he didn’t want to know the answer after all. Ember was sure she didn’t want to know either.
She turned to Cris, who was warily eyeing the bowl with the kind of trepidation you might feel when facing a pack of wolves or the barrel of a gun aimed at your forehead. “Uh, I don’t have to drink this, do I? I mean, we did just figure out that Lia’s siren song thing doesn’t work on Fae, so I’m safe, right?” He said it with a kind of sinking hope, and Ember smiled blandly at him.
