by J. L. Madore
BLAZE IGNITES
Scourge Survivor Series – Book One
JL Madore
Copyright © 2013 by JLMadore
All rights reserved
ISBN 978-0-9916763-1-6
Cover by: Sarah Hansen of Okay Creations
The moral right of the author has been asserted.
this is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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Dedication:
To my family: For all the days and nights I stayed locked away typing. For all the dinners that were last minute and takeout. For all the times the laundry didn't get done or I forgot something important. I love you.
Acknowledgements:
My sincere thanks to Heather for seeing something in me and pointing me in the direction of writing and the Writers' Community of Durham Region, which is, without question, the greatest community of writers ever assembled.
To my WCDR family:
To James and Sue, instructors, mentors and friends, you've taught me more than craft and technique, you've taught me about the kind of writer I want to be.
To Ruth and Gwynn, your insights and support through the editing process was invaluable.
To my writing circle, Critical Realm, this book evolved in our group and without your critiques and encouragement it might well have died there.
To my fellow WCDR members, your support is inspirational, your strengths immeasurable, and your friendships invaluable.
To my beta readers, thank you for your enthusiasm, support and your dead-on editorial suggestions. Blaze Ignites is what it is because of you ladies.
CHAPTER ONE
Gun versus wand.
Lexi and I saw the standoff escalating beyond the crush of half-naked, leather-clad bodies on the dance floor. The patrons of the tavern, human and not, ceased shimmying to the techno-rock of the house band and drew wands and daggers in every direction.
"Let us through people." Raising my palms, I called my powers. "Castian, come to me." A surge of arcane energy lifted my hair as my affinity awoke. "Down!" I shielded Lexi and avoided the white-gold energy bolt zinging past our heads. It hit the mirrored wall over the bar, bursting into a shower of sparks and jagged shards.
A shot rang out. Shit.
Magic buzzed and crackled in the air like a bug-light in August. I threw out some heat to part the remaining sea of bodies. Ignoring the sneers of rubberneckers, we pushed through and my sister and I joined the altercation.
A scruffy, brute of a man sporting a bandana stood, gun poised, staring straight into the wand-tip of one of the Academy of Affinities' fifth-year wizardry students.
"Problem, gentlemen?" I asked, easing into their circle.
With shoulders rigid and wand steady, the student, Nash Blackpaw, focused straight ahead. "Jade, this asshole thinks he's dragging my friend back to the Modern Realm."
I assessed the native girl shielded behind his back. She looked shaken but unharmed.
"I don't think," the brute hissed. "This is a family matter. Jade, is it?"
Pushing down the urge to wipe the amused sneer off the bastard's face I tried to remain professional. "Jade is what friends and students call me. You can call me Blaze. That is my official nom de guerre."
I held up my wrist and revealed my Talon brand. Cold, sharp eyes narrowed on my copper skin as the trademark golden hawk of a Talon enforcer appeared. "Sir, you are armed with intent to do harm on Haven grounds. This entire mountain is a sanctuary. According to Fae law, the girl is welcome to claim refuge here."
"Screw the laws," he spat, shifting the business end of the gun toward me. "Fae laws force our race to live in the Modern Realm—force us to hide who we are as if we're worth less than those fucking humans. The gods won't care about one worthless runaway. Tell your boy here to lower his wand and we're gone."
Catching Lexi's eye, I glanced toward the girl and my sister dissolved into the crowd.
"Again, that would be no." The muzzle of the gun pointed at my chest at an almost point blank range. My skin tingled warm. I pushed back my temper. "I know how you must feel—"
"You know nothing," he snapped, spittle flying. "You are human."
With his full attention on me, I wove more persuasion into my words. "As a Talon enforcer, I ensure the laws of both realms are upheld. You smuggled a gun from the Modern Realm onto sanctuary grounds. There's no chance you're leaving with the girl. The Portal Gates are sealed for summer solstice and you have things to answer for. Your only option here is to lower your weapon."
My suggestion had the barrel wavering. He clutched the grip with both hands and stabilized it. His jaw clenched as his index finger tightened on the trigger. I gave another push of energy and when I thought I was at my limit, I pushed further. Perspiration beaded across his furrowed brow. I held on. Needles of pain ran through my jaw as I clenched my teeth. After another minute, the Glock clattered to the tavern floor.
He lunged.
My feet left the ground as his shoulder caught my cheek. Something solid connected with my ribs and I hit the dance floor in an awkward half-twist. My back connected with the wood plank right before my head bounced. I was still seeing white splotches bursting in front of my eyes when the brute's staggering weight lifted and two Were-lion bouncers took control.
One snatched the weapon and shoved it into the waistband of his jeans. His litter-mate grabbed the guy's thick arms and wrenched them back until I expected to hear the snap of bone. Rumbling like a storm cloud, the pair of Weres cable-tied the guy's hands and signaled to everyone that the show was over.
"And a good night was had by all." Lexi rolled her amethyst eyes and offered me a hand up. "You good, girlfriend?"
I nodded, wiping blood from my cheek as the crowd dispersed. Once the band resumed their set everyone went right back to their evening.
"Remove his bandana or he'll shift." The native girl peered from behind Lexi, then squealed as the brute surged.
"Are you snitching little bitch," he snapped.
Lexi drew the knife from her thigh sheath and the lion tightened his hold on our now-squirming, cursing prisoner. When the tie of the bandana was severed, the glamour—the illusion which made it appear as if his cloak were nothing more than a piece of cloth—shattered. What looked to be a worn black cloth covered in flames and a rebel flag dissolved, leaving Lexi holding a floor-length fur pelt.
"Finfolk?" Lexi asked.
Long chestnut hair shimmered in the tavern's lantern light as the girl nodded. Definitely First Nations. Inuit maybe? I scanned the fringed cape draped to the thighs of her jeans. It was probably glamored, too.
"Two weeks ago," she said, "my parents were killed off the Alaskan Coast and my uncle took over my raft. He's a bastard, even by Finfolk standards, but was next in line to rule."
"
And what race of Finfolk are you?" I asked, studying the thick, grey pelt in Lexi's hand.
"Otterkie," she said. "At first, I believed my parents were netted and killed by human poachers while in their animal form. That's what my uncle reported to the council, but last night I heard him in the den whispering with that man." She pointed to our prisoner. "My uncle thanked him for a job well done. My parents were dead and nobody suspected a thing. Now all he had to do was kill off the whelps."
She flipped her cape back, revealing a dark-haired toddler in a child sling across her chest. "My race has always been proud to be Dark Fae. Dark, but not evil. I believe my uncle has betrayed our people to gain favor with the Scourge."
The pain in her wide brown eyes pegged me solid in the gut. The slaughter of my own parents still ate at me—jagged teeth gnawing my insides—even seventeen years later.
I gazed to the bouncers. Damn Were-lion littermates are tough to tell apart. "Boys, take our guests up to the security office at the castle. My brother is on duty and will do the honors with the paperwork. I'll call him and let him know what's happened."
After handing over the guy's otter pelt, Lexi and I headed back to our booth. My call to Julian about what happened was quick and before I knew it I was back to our evening.
"You okay, Jade?"
"Fine," I lied, forcing a smile.
Lexi bounced up on her knees and signaled our waitress for another round. "Okay, spill. What's wrong?"
I tipped back what I'd left in my glass and focused my healing affinity on my ribs, cheek and shoulder. When that was taken care of, I wiped the blood from my face with a napkin. "It just pisses me off . . . I beat that idiot with my powers. I could have taken him if it came to weapons, but no matter how much we train or over-train I'm not freakishly strong like you. I'll never be able to muscle my way past half the men we come up against.
"You're way smarter."
"Maybe, but that's not going to convince Reign to treat us as equals in the field."
Lexi bit her lip. "I bet the take down doesn't even register with him. He's gonna go ballistic about a gun being on the property—and that it was pointed at you."
I winced. "Gods. He won't let us off site for a month."
"A month?" She snorted. "If we're lucky. I figure a year."
I accepted two more wide-mouthed glasses from the waitress in the Daisy-Dukes and bit back a smirk. The deep cleavage lean-in went beautifully with the turquoise hair and the pounds of gold glitter cemented to her eyelids.
Gods, I hope that stuff didn't flake off. After a quick scan of the surface of my Rhapsody Cosmo, I chased a drop of pink nectar down the stem of the glass and inhaled the fruity fragrance. It was dizzying how the heady scent mixed with the tavern's potpourri of tobacco, onion rings and lust.
Ahhh, the Hearthstone, the Realm of the Fair's very own Vegas. Except, unlike the Modern Realm, what happened at the Hearthstone didn't always stay at the Hearthstone.
"To the summer solstice." I raised my glass, committed to drowning the onslaught of memories tonight had belched up. I swallowed hard, pushing past the lump in my throat. "To my parents. May we annihilate the Scourge from both realms and avenge every innocent who fell victim to their evil." I proceeded to chug what was my fourth—or maybe my fifth drink.
Lexi raised her glass, her light purple eyes glittered a myriad of emotions in the dim light. Reaching across the table she squeezed my hand. "What happened to your parents sucked Jade—no argument—but you're a survivor. Maybe it's all part of some cosmic plan." She tilted her head, her black spiky hair exploding in every direction. "If they hadn't been killed, you wouldn't have been brought here and we wouldn't be sisters. Maybe it's destiny somehow."
"Destiny my ass," I snapped. A wave of hurt crossed Lexi's face. Shit. I waved my empty glass until our waitress headed to the bar. "The truth is, when the Fates get bored with life Behind the Veil, they amuse themselves by tossing innocent people and random events into life's blender. You never know what flavor Slushie you'll end up once the hum of the blades stop. You struggle to pull yourself together, and when you finally think you've got control, the little sadists flip the switch and the whole shitstorm starts again."
Lexi swirled her Cosmo and studiously watched the surface dance. "Remember what Bruin and Julian painted on the clubhouse when we were kids?"
We recited together. "Shitstorm Survivors: Come in peace or leave in pieces."
When Lexi lifted her head, her smile was back in place. "Julian was pissed he had to cover the gates tonight. He wanted to be here for you."
I nodded. "He stopped by the clinic on his way to the Gatehouse. Oh, and he gave me something. . ." I scrabbled around in my purse and retrieved two shiny, touch-screen phones. "Julian's at it again. He's installed a GPS tracker on our SIM cards and downloaded a couple nifty new mapping apps for when we're in the field. All our mission specs open at a touch and sync up with our comm system when we're on the move."
Lexi scrolled through the upgrades and beamed. "Gods, he's the best."
The little envelope on my screen was blinking, two missed messages—Bruin and Reign.
Was Lexi right? Was my adopted family my destiny? "Who's on patrol tonight?"
"Who's not?" Lexi jumped on my change of subject and ran with it. "Calls have been flooding in from both realms all day: crop circles, people vanishing in plain sight, apparitions, cloud shapes, UFO sightings. We had a dozen exposure risks in the Modern Realm by the time Julian closed the Portal Gates at full dark. Hopefully that will contain—" Lexi leaned forward, her brow disappearing under inky bangs. "Well, that didn't take long."
"Wha—dammit." I ducked behind a menu and slid to the back of our booth. Peeking around my laminated shield, I assessed the leggy brunette Samuel was wearing around his neck like a pet chimpanzee. Joined at the lips, they stumbled and staggered across the dance floor and tipped, as one, backwards onto the bench of an empty booth.
"Is she kissing him or draining his blood? If it's the latter I should go help. She's nowhere near the carotid." Lexi pulled her dirk from her boot-sheath and spun it in her palm.
"Nah, we've had enough drama for one night."
With her lip pushed out in a pout, she sheathed her weapon. "Fine. We're here to get you smashingly drunk, not dwell on which Succubus your ex has sucker-fished to his throat."
"Right." I glanced over to the lovely couple. Samuel's shabby-chic hair was getting a good mussing and apparently, he was lapping it up. How long would it be before they headed somewhere more private? My gaze wandered toward the private bathrooms down by the office. I'd never been inclined to use them myself, though the oversized dimensions made them popular when regulars, especially the Weres and Centaurs, had a thirst for something they couldn't order at the bar. I swallowed hard and closed my eyes against the nausea churning in my gut.
Well then, Samuel finally gets laid.
I didn't blame him. Samuel was charming, hot and an unbelievable wizard. A sexual relationship just wasn't in me. Two years dating, teaching at the Academy and battling the Scourge together wasn't enough for him. As much as he'd hoped for a physical relationship, he'd never inspired a clear-the-table-take-me-now passion in me. No one had.
As Samuel's hands skimmed over the skank's ribcage and under her breasts I remembered every nuance of his touch, the warm softness of his wizard hands, the gentle strength of his fingers—Nothing. No weak knees, no racing pulse, no heat liquefying my insides.
There was something seriously wrong with me.
Lexi huffed at the display. "Let's turn him into a zombie and make him dance the Macarena naked."
"Entertaining, but no, Samuel deserves to be happy."
"Ew, how mature." She stuck her tongue out and refocused on her drink, downing half without taking a breath. How could someone so tiny drink so much and still be steady with a knife? She claimed it was a superior metabolism. "Okay, forget him. Do you wanna dance?"
I evaluated the hedonistic grind on the
dance floor then the action at Samuel's booth. "No. Let's just get drunk."
"Wisdom for the ages." Lexi whooped and lifted her glass. "Here's to women everywhere, drinking far too much to be sensible and not giving a shit!"
A high-pitched clink signaled the resumption of our evening and I pushed all thoughts of Samuel and my emotional and sexual deficiencies out of my mind. "So," I said, "are we still going to the—Shit." The deep violet of Lexi's pupils was dilating and overtaking the pale purple irises. "Lexi, sit back, hon. You're about to go off-line."
Sliding deeper into the booth she pressed her back against the wall. "You sure? I don't feel—" Her face blanked out just as her eyes rolled back. When they blinked open they had done a quick-change to the shimmering violet of a velvet night sky.
I hustled to the opposite bench and slid in. With my back to the dance floor I set her limp palms over my own and started the mental upload between her vision and my mind. . ..
CHAPTER TWO
The indigo night was veiled in glistening stars. A group of Elves regarded a stately man speaking at the altar-stone of a ceremonial ruin site. Three men sat on display to the left of the speaker. Two had honey-flax hair and the third had silver. Each of them wore it pulled back and tied, exposing elongated, softly pointed ears.
Looking out over the gathering, every guest shared the same physical characteristics: medium to long hair, in one shade of gold or another, flawless alabaster skin and stained-glass blue eyes. The silver hair of the one at the front was the only exception.
My mind swirled in drunken dizziness that had nothing to do with the Rhapsodies we'd inhaled and everything to do with a race of Elves long believed to be extinct. Of the seven races of Elves, six were thriving in the Realm of the Fair. The seventh had been exiled eight thousand years ago—Highbornes.
* * *
"Tonight," the host said, turning to gesture to the three. "Galanodel, Thamior and Aust embark on their Ambar Lenn—Fate's Journey. As they embrace their passage from cub to wolf, sapling to oak, they seek purpose in the next phase of their lives. Upon their return, each male will assume his station and endeavor to become a male of worth. Blessing and abundance."
