Jeez that girl can cook, Luke thought as he took another huge bite from the sandwiches Kira had provided—some much needed sustenance after trying to teach her how to surf. Not that she was bad really, just stubborn, as always.
Where was she anyway? Luke scanned the water. He swore they had left her right in front of the towels.
"Hey guys, do you see Kira?" He grumbled between bites. Dave shook his head. Luke sat up straighter, fighting the knots in his stomach. He was supposed to be watching her, keeping her safe. But before long, Emma laughed and pointed out toward the pier.
"She went out to the bigger waves," she said, giggling.
Luke just shook his head. Of course.
He scanned the beach, following Emma's finger until he finally saw Kira in the distance, sitting on her board, looking back over her shoulder at the oncoming set.
Luke nudged Dave with his shoulder. This was something his friend would definitely want to see.
Kira paddled, shoving her hands deep into the water.
Luke's chest filled, tight with anticipation.
She shifted her knee, gliding easily into a standing position.
"She's going to do it," Dave said, awed.
Then boom.
Nosedive.
"Oo," Emma said, wincing.
But Luke's mind immediately started spinning with taunts—this was awesome comedic material. No way was he going to let her off the hook, anytime soon at least.
How's the sand taste? Luke thought, shaking his head. No, it lacks finesse.
Nice day for a swim? He mused. Eh, not quite right.
He looked up, hoping the expression on her face would inspire something great. But he didn't see her. Luke scanned the beach, but her hair would be easy to spot. He looked back at the water. But there was nothing—nothing that looked human.
There was a board though.
He stood.
A board floating aimlessly, drifting closer and closer to the pier.
Luke took off at a run.
Something was wrong. Kira was hurt.
"Come on," Luke muttered. This couldn't be happening. He was supposed to be there for her, supposed to protect her. "Come on," he urged again, pushing faster against the sluggish sand.
And then he spotted someone emerging from the water.
Someone male.
Someone…
Luke clenched his fists, cursing.
It was Tristan. That bastard was touching her. That thing was holding her, was setting her down on his lap, was cradling her.
Kira's body jerked as she threw up the entire ocean and then stilled again. She stirred, turning into Tristan's embrace. Into his bare chest. In her bikini. Tristan pulled her closer, arching her head to inspect her scalp.
Blood. There has to be blood.
Fury bubbled in Luke's stomach, latching onto his insides. That monster was smelling her, was—
Luke couldn't even think about it. His fists clenched, holding the sun tightly under his palms. He couldn't lose control. He couldn't let Kira see.
But…
An unfamiliar feeling snaked up his limbs, strangling his breath as Tristan's arm held Kira tighter, hugged her closer.
Luke's vision shrank, focusing only on Tristan, on that chauvinistic grin.
"Get away from her," Luke yelled.
Tristan stood. "Chill out, Luke. I didn't do anything."
Luke's entire body was shaking. He was on the verge of losing it.
"I don't care. Leave." Luke forced the words out through gritted teeth.
"And if I don't want to?" Tristan asked, raising a brow. That stupid grin returned. Arrogance flew from it in waves.
The jerk was prodding him.
Tristan assumed Luke wouldn't use his conduit powers—not in front of Kira. But maybe if it were just a little, just a small sliver, so minute she would never see.
"Then," Luke paused, hesitating despite his anger.
He shouldn't. He really shouldn't.
He looked to the left.
To the right.
They had an audience.
But they were drenched in bright sun, camouflaged by it, and he had to wipe that smarmy grin off of Tristan's face.
So…Luke punched him—hard—letting the sun leak from his palm and sink deep into Tristan's skin, burning the vampire.
Tristan flew backward, shock written all over his face.
Luke breathed heavily, holding his body back, fighting to keep his powers locked in.
"Luke!" Kira screamed. "Stop it. He just saved my life."
No I did, Luke thought and shook his head. He looked at Kira sadly—she had no idea what she was wrapped up in. No idea.
But even so, there was blood trickling down her forehead. And that, at least, was one thing Luke could fix.
"Come on, Kira." He took her hand, letting her touch cool the anger in his stomach. "We have to take you to the hospital."
As told by Tristan…
Scene 3
Next up? Kira and Tristan's impromptu acting scene! Kira knows Tristan is keeping secrets—heck, he kissed her and than ran away just so he wouldn't have to tell her the truth. But this time, Kira has a plan. She sits next to him in class, completely ready to interrogate him, when their teacher assigns paired readings of Romeo & Juliet. Kira thinks it's the perfect moment to get some answers, but Tristan has another idea in mind… Ignorance is bliss, right?
He should have known. The second he walked into class, he should have noticed her suspicious absence from Luke's side. But it wasn't until Kira slipped silently into the seat next to his that it hit—she had duped him.
And now they were a pair, reading some of the most romantic lines ever written in the English language.
Tristan cursed.
He never should have taken her to the church—really, he never should have kissed her. Even before that, he never should have stuck around to draw her. When he happened upon her at the park, he should have just stopped, turned around, and walked away.
But he just couldn't.
She made him feel so…alive. He couldn't walk away. Not from that.
But he had to.
There was nothing for them. Pain was something he was used to. But he wouldn't be the one to force it on her. And that was all anything between them would ever bring—pain.
Next to him, Kira coughed.
He turned to her, wincing as his cold heart warmed and started beating, reminding him what he was determined to forget.
"But soft what light through yonder window breaks," he read, removing any and all emotion from his voice. Pretending had become second nature to him by that point. After a century of pretending, it should have been easy. But stealing the love from his voice was hard, much harder than any role he'd ever played before.
Kira laughed.
He forced himself onward, reading as quickly as he could, trying to end the torture.
"You know this is supposed to be a love scene, right?" Kira asked.
Did she have to remind him? Tristan met her eyes for a split second before dropping his back to the page. It was too hard to look at her—those fire-filled eyes would burn his resolve away.
"Oh, really? I hadn't noticed,” he said, adding a hard edge to his voice, doing his best the play the character he had created.
"Look, Tristan," Kira pressed on, oblivious to the battle raging inside of him. "There's no point hiding the fact that you like me, from me I mean. I flipped through your notebook—"
No, he silently cursed. He thought he had lost the journal, left it at home somewhere or maybe at the park. Not somewhere she would find it. His chest strained.
Kira continued unaware, "I saw the drawings you made of me."
Tristan deflated, defeated. Idiot, he thought.
She placed his moleskin journal on the desk, twisting the knife.
He looked away while she continued talking.
"They were really great actually, pretty flattering." She paused. He couldn't look
at her. "Anyway, I think we should talk about what happened, not here obviously, but somewhere we can meet in private."
Private, Tristan thought and looked up—straight into Diana's watchful gaze. How could he have let this go on? They had drawn too much attention already. It wasn't safe. Every second they spoke, the more in danger Kira became.
He had to end this, for good.
But he had to act naturally, act annoyed, so his so-called friends would buy it.
"Hey Juliet, it's your turn," he drawled, acting the jerk, trying to play it cool while his insides boiled.
"Oh right," Kira said. She looked down and started reading, copying his monotone style.
A laugh slipped through his lips—lips caught in a half-smile despite his best efforts to straighten them. Why was she so damned amusing?
"I get it. I sounded like an idiot," he said, trying to force her to change her tone. But Kira just continued.
I have to stop this, he thought and took a deep breath.
Leaning in closer, he whispered, "Okay, here's the truth Kira. We can't talk here and we shouldn't even be talking now…or maybe ever." He strengthened his conviction as he spoke. She had to understand it wasn’t a game. That everything between them was serious, deadly serious.
Instead she looked up, annoyance brewing behind those eyes. "You told me that already."
"Yet you seem to have trouble understanding it. English is your first language, right?" He tried to joke, to lighten the mood. Kira just rolled her eyes, not easing the pressure.
"Like I said before," Tristan said, bringing the point back around, deepening his voice. "We just can't ever be."
"I understand what you're saying, but I also know you don't mean it," she said. A knowing smile danced across her lips.
"I do," Tristan said sternly, while his insides screamed that he didn't.
"Oh really," Kira pressed. "It didn't seem that way when you kissed me."
A memory surged. Her soft lips, her sigh, the way her body melted into his, molding together, fitting perfectly.
Stop.
He blinked the image away.
"Kira, forget that ever happened, okay?" At least one of us has to, he thought.
"Or what? You don't scare me."
"I should," Tristan said, pushed to brink. He had to make her understand. She had given him no choice.
The ice flooded back into his veins. The hunger swelled. He let it.
Kira couldn't look away. Even as panic settled in, she couldn't break contact. In that moment, he knew he had her. She was trapped in his vampiric spell, a victim who didn't realize she was the prey.
He continued staring, let the fangs expand behind his closed lips. She had to understand—they would never work. And it was dangerous to think for even a second that they could. As much as it would haunt him, as much as the memory of that kiss would burn—stronger than the sun itself—he had to scare her away. There were no choices left.
He wasn't strong enough to let her go.
So she had to fear him.
It will be better this way, he tried to tell himself as the hurt settled in.
After another moment, once he could smell the terror flooding her system, he released his supernatural hold over her.
Kira blinked, confused, then her eyes narrowed. "What the hell was that?"
"Me," he told her bitterly.
Me, he thought, letting the loathing surge.
As told by Luke…
Scene 3
Last up? Kira and Tristan's impromptu acting scene…that Luke is forced to witness! When Kira and Tristan get caught not doing the assignment, their teacher forces them to read the infamous tomb scene from Romeo & Juliet in front of the whole class—and Luke has to sit there and watch without saying a word! For Luke, it's absolute torture. But even worse is the knowledge that he has all the answers Kira seeks, if only he wasn't under strict orders to keep his mouth shut…
Luke couldn't watch. He was going to kiss her. That jerk was going to kiss her. In front of the entire classroom.
Tristan got in trouble and our teacher is trying to punish him, Luke tried to reason. It's a punishment.
But it wasn't really. Not to Tristan.
It was more like some twisted blessing in disguise.
Oh God.
The sun's flames burned inside of Luke, screaming to protect Kira from the vampire leaning over her, trapping her. He looked away, staring at anything but the two people at the front of the classroom. It wasn't natural. A vampire and a conduit, touching. It never would be. But he needed to chill. There were too many people around. And they were just acting out a play, one scene for the class.
He caught Diana's stare, meeting her cold blue eyes. They narrowed in disgust the moment they met Luke’s, and his did the same.
Now this is the way conduits and vampires are supposed to interact, Luke mused darkly. With mutual loathing and disgust.
He sighed and turned back to the front, just in time to see Tristan slip from the desk, landing a little too gracefully on the floor.
Good he's dead, Luke thought wryly. If only it was real…
But then Kira sat up, wearing a pained expression as her eyes shifted around the room.
Luke grinned, anger forgotten. The look on her face was priceless. The girl couldn't act at all, but it was cute to watch her try.
Their teacher, Mr. Bell, played the friar, telling Juliet of her love Romeo's demise. Kira, trying her absolute best, looked less like Juliet and more like the poor portrayal of a Victorian Lady in need of smelling salts.
Luke fought back a snort…definitely a losing battle. There was no way he would keep it together. He was about to burst. The second Kira read her lines, he was going to crack up.
But then—ding!—the bell rang.
Luke shook his head. She was so freaking lucky.
Reaching down for his backpack, he tried his best to ignore the confused expression on Kira's face as she looked down at Tristan. Her hand moved to her cheek, holding it there as Tristan stood, and the two of them locked gazes.
Feeling his blood boil again, Luke walked swiftly out of the classroom. He didn't want to watch anymore.
But he waited for Kira on the other side of the door, even as his mind urged him to go to class. His heart softened. He couldn't just abandon her.
When Kira finally walked out, her steps dragged, as though invisible weights were strung to her ankles.
Luke sighed. She needed a friend. And that was exactly what he would be, what he was supposed to be.
"So, that was interesting," he said, leaving the opening, giving her the chance to explain. She didn't take it. Luke pushed into lighter territory, shoving his need for answers to the side. There would be time for that later. "I personally thought you were captivating as Juliet. Great idea to put a hand to your chest, then forehead, and pretend to faint when you saw Romeo had died. Classic move."
Got her, Luke thought when Kira's lip twitched into a grin. Her hands pressed into Luke's arm, shoving him playfully to the side.
"I'm not an actress and I never said I was," she retorted, head held high.
"Trust me…I know," Luke said and jumped to his left, side-stepping the shove that he knew was coming. Stubborn and predictable, that was his Kira. But sweet and charming too. And infuriating, in a somewhat sexy way…
Okay enough, he thought. Stick to business.
"Want to talk about it?" He asked, wishing he could take the haunt away from her expression.
"What?" Kira asked, shaking the frown from her face and hugging her arms tightly across her torso. But he wasn't letting it go, not yet.
"Whatever it was you and Tristan got in trouble for fighting about," Luke pressed. He just wished she would tell him the truth—he was trying to protect her. To keep her safe from all the evils she didn't realize existed.
"I was just thanking him for saving me in that surfboard accident. I never really got the chance before."
Luke sighed. She wasn'
t going to tell him about it. Not yet anyway.
"I bet he didn't want to hear any of it," Luke told her, not quite able to hide the sadness in his voice. He didn't want to pretend anymore, not with Kira. He wished he could just tell her the truth, could tell her what she was. But he couldn't, not without breaking orders. Kira had to find out for herself—those were the rules.
"Something like that." She shrugged.
Luke sighed.
If she didn't want to talk to him, that was her prerogative. But he could do one thing, one thing Tristan couldn't. He could make her laugh. He could make her forget.
"Cheer up," Luke said, putting a brotherly arm over her shoulder, using all of his will power not to pull her in closer, not to hug her tightly against his body. That wasn't what she needed, not now.
No, what she needed was some fun. And he knew just the thing.
"Want to skip class and buy some ice cream? I wouldn't mind playing hooky for the rest of the day."
"And how are we supposed to do that?" Kira asked, raising her eyebrow.
No faith. Luke shook his head, thinking of the straw in his backpack. Spitballs. Totally underrated, but totally effective. And he knew a security guard who needed to be brought down a few pegs.
"Follow me you must, young padawan," Luke said, already grinning. Kira's features shifted, matching his, gaining excitement. Happiness leaked in, washing the hurt away.
He grabbed her hand and took off at a run.
There was one thing he could do for Kira that no one else could—he could make her laugh. Really laugh. Laugh so hard that she cried—and once so hard that she snorted.
Luke gripped her warm palm.
For now, that was enough.
It had to be.
~~~
I hope you enjoyed these exclusive bonus scenes from Ignite! Be sure to check out the rest of Midnight Fire so you can find out how Kira’s story comes to an end—and which boy wins her heart! All five books are available wherever eBooks are sold :)
Ignite as Told by Luke and Tristan Page 2
