Touching Fire (Touch Saga)

by Airicka Phoenix

  “I was told my services were required,” he said, fluidly swooping down and snatching up my duffle. “This way, Princess.”

  I scowled at his back, but followed. “Who are you?” I demanded, practically running to keep up with his long strides.

  He slanted me a glance from over his shoulder. “You know, I’ve heard of short term memory loss, but I’m a little insulted that you would forget this face.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I mean to my dad. You’re not my half-brother or something are you?”

  Halfway up the steps, he stopped and turned. I stopped three steps beneath him and tilted my head back to peer into his face. I looked small, almost insect-like in the reflection of his glasses.

  “Are you worried about your naughty thoughts towards me?” He hoisted my bag over one shoulder. The corner of his mouth tilted. “Afraid they might be immoral?”

  Oh he was such a modest guy.

  “You think quite a lot of yourself, don’t you?”

  He shrugged. “Not nearly as often as girls think about me, I’m sure.” He paused and glanced over his shoulder. “Where’s Prince Charming?”

  “Don’t know,” I muttered.

  I hated that Isaiah and I were fighting. I hated that he’d left without me. I hated that he was gone and I was left riddled with guilt. I honestly hadn’t thought we were capable of fighting. Yes, we’d disagreed, but we’d never actually fought over anything.

  “Cheer up,” Archer said. “He can’t get very far.”

  “What do you mean? This place is huge.”

  We reached the top of the stairs and turned down a wide opening that branched off into three different directions. I sure to God hoped I would get a map before I was left to fend for myself. We followed the bright red carpet right down a long, narrow corridor.

  “Well, eventually someone will smell the human and eat him.”

  My foot caught on his words and I stumbled. “What?”

  His head turned slightly over his shoulder. “I can tell you’re going to be such a joy to be around.”

  I ignored him. “Is Isaiah okay?”

  He shrugged, turning forward once more. “I wouldn’t care even if I knew.”

  I stomped to a standstill. “Why am I even asking you?” Turning away from him, I locked in on my link with Isaiah. “Where are you? Are you okay? Isaiah?”

  I hated the five seconds between my badgering and his response.

  “Where are you?” he asked.

  “Archer’s showing me to my bedroom. Where are you?”

  “I don’t know. I took a weird turn somewhere.”

  “I’ll come—”

  “No! Stay where you are. I’ll find you.”

  “But I can get Archer to—”

  “No,” he replied slowly. “Go ahead. I’m right behind you.”

  It was evident that he wasn’t as ready to drop our fight as I was. Well, if it was distance he wanted … Besides, it wasn’t like I believed Archer that anything in that place would really eat Isaiah. Granted, I was worried about him getting seen though. Ashton had been very specific about that.

  “I’m not angry,” Isaiah muttered a moment later. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

  I turned to Archer. “Okay, lead the way.”

  “Are we finished staring off into space?” he countered dryly.

  “I wasn’t staring off into space! I was…” I let myself trail off, realizing there was no way to really explain our telepathic link. Well, there probably was, but I didn’t care enough about the guy to bother. “Are we going or what?”

  Archer cocked his head to the side and caught me in the reflections of his glasses. “I’m sure your prince charming is fine.” I couldn’t see his eyes, but his head cocked to the side so I imagined his eyes were narrowed. “Although I don’t get why you care. He’s human.”

  “So am I.”

  “Partially!” he countered like that made some huge difference.

  “Why does that matter? I was raised human. My mother was human. I love—”

  “Please don’t finish that.” He turned away. “I just ate.”

  Hands balled, teeth clenched, I whipped around on my heels and marched back in the direction we’d come down.

  “Where are you going?” I heard him shout after me.

  “To find Isaiah.” It was better than staying there with him and listening to his rude commentary.

  I heard him groan loudly behind me. “All right, fine!” I heard him stomp up behind me. “I’ll behave, and to prove that I mean it, I’ll even find him for you. Once you let me take you to your room first.”

  “I don’t believe you.” I folded my arms and faced him. “You could just be saying that.”

  “Delusional and paranoid—clearly a lethal combination.” I did flip him off this time. “How charming,” he mused dryly. Then he sighed and shook his head. “Fine, I, Arcarius Blackburn, Bane Legacy and son of Ira, hereby swear that I will find your boyfriend and return him to you.”

  “How do I know I can trust you?”

  He threw up the hand not holding the duffle. “I just swore on my name. What more do you want?”

  I shrugged. “Is that supposed to mean something?”

  “To swear by a name, your own particularly, is as binding as a signed contract written in blood.”

  I grimaced. “Ew.”

  “Also, I am a man of my word. Ask anyone.” He spun around and started onward. “Besides, you will never find him in this place. Did you happen to see just how large it is?”

  He was right, which I hated to admit. The place was enormous. Wandering off in search of Isaiah would no doubt result in me getting lost. I had to trust Archer and his name swearing. Left with no choice, I followed him.

  We took a bend at the end of the hall.

  “He knows what he’s doing, you know,” Archer said after several minutes of harsh silence. “Ashton, I mean.”

  My eyes narrowed. “What do you know of it?”

  “Everything.” He tossed my bag effortlessly over one shoulder. “Your father and my father are best friends. I suppose that kind of makes us family.”

  “Fabulous,” I grumbled.

  He shot me a glance from over his shoulder and grinned. “Exciting, right?”

  A person needed the patience of a saint to talk to this guy. Something I didn’t have.

  “If Ashton knows what he’s doing,” I began, needing to change the topic before I got blood all over the fancy corridor. “Then why doesn’t Ashton just kill Garrison and be done with it?”

  “Why don’t you if it’s so simple?” he countered airily.

  Okay, so he had me there.

  “We know what we’re doing, Princess, and we are much better at this game.”

  “We?” I ventured. “Who’s we?”

  “Oh you don’t really think your father does this alone, do you? He’s powerful, but even he’s not that powerful.”

  I frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean it takes a crew to rob a bank. Not real banks!” He muttered when I couldn’t think of anything to say. “The metaphorical sort.”

  I had no idea what games he was referring to, nor had I any idea what my role in all this was. I felt like I’d walked into the middle of a movie and was expected to know what part I played. The whole thing was messed up. A month ago I was a semi average teenager with a paranoid mother and a whole highway to call home. Yeah, I hated it—hated the running and the motels and the always being alone—but I had Mom. I had a semi clear view of myself and the person I was. Then I became a girl with powers beyond my control, a past I wish I never learned about, and a future I wasn’t sure I was ready for.

  I wanted so badly to crawl under a rock until it all went away.

  “Who are you?” I asked Archer again.

  Without answering, he led me further along until we reached a much wider corridor, this one lined with a dozen enormous doors. A glass archway was cut into the very far wall, overl
ooking a courtyard of stone. Light spilled across the gleaming marble that made up the floor and walls. The ceiling was vaulted and dripping with elaborate crystal chandeliers. We passed five of the doors before stopping at mine.

  “Here we are,” Archer said.

  Muscles tight with nerves, I hesitated. I wiped my hands on my skirt and stared at the gold handle.

  “Will you or shall I?” Archer asked, not unkindly.

  “I will,” I murmured, sucking in a lungful of courage.

  The doorknob was cool against my palm. It gave easily and swung inward without a sound. I closed the single step over the threshold and stopped.

  The fragrant scent of freshly cut lilies wrapped around me, warm from the blazing fire roaring from the stone hearth. Pale moonlight spilled through sheer curtains over high windows. A cool breeze swept through the room from the open terrace doors with the scent of grass, wildflowers and approaching rain. It ruffled the cream colored drapes floating off the massive four poster bed. Everything was rose and gold with light touches of cream that painted the room with an elegant brush. It was four walls of massive extravagance I had never in my life seen before. Everything from the pale furniture to the crystal chandelier dripping from the cathedral-style ceiling, to the stone hearth at the foot of the bed screamed money and luxury. Two things I’d never had.

  “Is this mine?” I asked, too afraid to look away in case it vanished.

  “Well, it isn’t mine.” Archer strode past me straight into the room and dumped my bag onto the bed, making the silk sheets ripple. “I doubt your boyfriend would like the idea of us being roommates.”

  “It’s gorgeous!” I breathed, too awed to notice my feet shuffling deeper into the unknown. “I’ve never had a room before,” I murmured, making a slow circle on the spot, greedily taking everything in with a hunger that could rival my need for blood.

  “No?” Archer hummed, surveying the room through his glasses, but I knew he wasn’t seeing it the way I was.

  Leaving him watching after me, I walked to the terrace doors and peeked out.

  The veranda was white stone cut into a wide circle that jutted several feet over a fairytale garden. Miles upon miles of rolling green hills, swaying trees and flowers bowed beneath my feet, a rainbow of colors in so many shades that I doubted half of them even had a name. Amongst the carvings, the gurgling fountain and statues, a maze of roses wound its way into the distance. All of it was illuminated by gas lamps that shone brightly in the velvet blackness.

  I shook my head, awed. “It’s beautiful.”

  “Mm, yes. It is.”

  I hadn’t heard him follow me, but there he was when I glanced back, shoulder propped against the frame, arms folded. I couldn’t tell what he was looking at, but the prickle of heat was hard to ignore as it climbed up my body to fill my cheeks.

  I turned away. “I need to clean up.”

  He shoved away from the frame. “And that’s my cue to leave.”

  “Archer!” I hurried after him when he started for the door.

  He glanced back. “Princess?”

  “Isaiah. Don’t forget.”

  He paused for just a split second.

  “You should forget about him,” he said at last. “You weren’t meant for him.” Then he was gone.

  The room lay quiet, except for the rustle of the lace curtains floating in the breeze. I pushed across the bedroom and shut the door behind him. Shaking my head, I made my way over to the bed. The mattress was firm. The foam cushioned my fall when I threw myself down. I bounced three times before coming to a stop. It was an actual mattress, a never-before-slept-on, stainless mattress, and I got to sleep on it.

  I lay sprawled across the body-molding foam and stared at the canopy overhead, letting every muscle in my body melt into the unfamiliar sensation.

  There was no crackling in the air from the tarp, no overpowering stench of Lysol disinfectant to mask and cleanse the odors. There were no watermarks on the ceiling, no cracks in the wall, no repugnant stains on the carpet. Best of all, there were no lice, no roaches, no rats or things to crawl up my nose at night. It was clean and new and shiny. It was mine, even if only temporarily.

  “It works better if you actually stand on it when you jump.”

  As though caught doing something I shouldn’t, I shot upright to my feet and moved off and away from the bed. My body tensed as shame swarmed over me.

  Ashton smiled sheepishly from the doorway; I hadn’t even heard the thing open. “Forgive me. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  “You didn’t,” I lied. “I was just…” What? Acting like an orphan getting adopted for the first time?

  “Fallon.” He took a step into the room, hands buried deep into the bowels of his pockets. “I would like to apologize for my insensitivity earlier. I should have told you about Celia and Lally. I didn’t think—”

  “It’s not a big deal.” I stared stubbornly at the spot just over his shoulder, forcing each word out as though vomiting nails.

  “I loved your mom, Fallon. I would have waited for her forever, but we both know she would never have taken me back. Celia, she’s not Dia … Erin, but I do care about her.”

  Sad fact was, I did know my mom would never have taken him back. She had spent seventeen years trying to forget he ever existed. The very mention of his name was like a curse word.

  “She seems nice,” I said instead.

  “Celia?” He slipped his hands into his pockets and seemed to consider this a moment. “Yes. She is. I hope you’ll at least give her the benefit of the doubt. This isn’t her fault, or Lally’s. If anyone’s to blame, it would have to be me.”

  I hated to admit it, but I didn’t blame the kid. It wasn’t her fault she and I were born. I almost didn’t blame Celia either. Truth be told, I didn’t know who to blame, yet I felt blame needed to be placed somewhere. It all just felt so unfair.

  “I don’t blame them,” I confessed.

  Ashton smiled. “I’m glad to hear that. Thank you.”

  “Hear what?” Celia stepped into the doorway. She clasped her hands delicately in front of her and smiled at me. “Forgive me. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. I was actually hoping to speak with you, Fallon.”

  Despite the whole no blaming, I couldn’t help wonder if this was where she was going to sit me down and tell me how she wasn’t going to replace my mom and how my father still loved me and I should think of her as a friend. I’d seen enough movies to know it was coming. I always hated the heroine for not accepting the stepmom, especially one as beautiful and nice as Celia. Yet even then, I wasn’t sure I was ready for that talk.

  Celia took a tentative step closer. “If you have a moment tomorrow, I would like to take you on a tour of the estate. Just you and me.”

  I opened my mouth to decline, although I wasn’t sure why. It burned on the tip of my tongue, but refused to dislodge.

  “Please?” She looked so hopeful, so pleading. Refusing would have been like kicking a puppy.

  I offered her a small smile. “Sure.”

  She smiled brightly, so did Ashton. “I’ll meet you in the foyer right after breakfast. But for now, supper is being served in the dining hall.”

  Ashton nodded. “And I want to introduce you to my sister, Vinnie.” I had an aunt? “You’ll like her,” he went on. “You remind me a lot of her.”

  “And of course you must still meet Lally,” Celia added. “She has talked of nothing else since news of your arrival.”

  “Sounds great,” I said for lack of anything better.

  Celia flashed her sharp little teeth. “Do you need help finding anything?”

  I glanced around the room, everything seemed fairly straightforward. “I think I’m okay.”

  She clapped her hands together. “Wonderful. I’ll send Delphi to fetch you in an hour.”

  With a small wave and another toothy smile, Celia slipped her arm through Ashton’s and together, the perfect image of cuteness, they left. I shut the door after
them the moment their backs were turned, and leaned against it.

  This was going to be a whole lot harder than I anticipated.

  Chapter 7

  The girl who arrived at my door an hour later was ethereal, beautiful, with nearly translucent skin and eyes like twin pools of Caribbean waters. Her mane of platinum blonde hair fell in a sleek sheet down the back of her black and gray dress to touch narrow hips. She regarded me politely.

  “Hello,” she said serenely. “I’m Delphi. Celia sent me to retrieve you for supper.”

  “Fallon,” I said. “And thanks. This place is kind of huge.”

  She almost smiled. “If you need a moment more, I can wait while you dress.”

  I glanced down at my black jeans and Angry Birds t-shirt. “I’m dressed.”

  She gave no outward show of disapproval, but I could feel it coming off her. “I see. If you’re ready then?”

  “As I’ll ever be,” I muttered, stepping into the hallway with her and shutting the door behind me. “Hey, Delphi, is there a map of this place?”

  “A map?”

  “Yeah, you know?” Clearly she didn’t because she continued to squint at me with confusion. “Never mind. Lead the way.”

  Her lashes dropped to half-mast over her eyes. “Yes, of course. This way.”

  She walked as though gliding. There was never any rustle of clothes, or scrape of feet on carpet. Next to her, I felt like a clumsy ox, all feet and no grace. She took me down a flight of stairs, then another. Then just when I was beginning to wonder if she was taking me to Hell, we reached a long narrow corridor laced with cobwebs.

  “This is the way to the dining room?” I asked her, keeping my tone light as if I wasn’t severely creeped out.

  “Just there at the end of the hall.” She stopped and waved to a set of wide, double doors. “Just push through.”

  I turned to the girl. “Thanks.”

  She smiled. “My pleasure, Fallon.”

  Grateful, I gave her a smile before starting the slow march down spider city. I shuddered at the thought of all those little creepers scuttling about above my head. It made no sense why anyone would put a dining room there. The place was disgusting. But who was I to judge? Maybe it was the maid’s decade off.