Touching Fire (Touch Saga)

by Airicka Phoenix

  I had so many more questions. I wanted to know more about their operation freeing Garrison’s prisoners … or experiments, in this case. But Archer was already turning back and I had no choice but to find Isaiah and see what the big surprise was.

  The curved corridor, halfway down, went from wood paneling to sheets of glass. Gold seams ran the length of its gleaming surface, framing the blue and black world on the other side with swirls. Elaborate curls intertwined along the top and down the sides. I had to frown as I watched endless black on the other side. I couldn’t decide if it was night time, or if the windows opened into some horror movie freak show, or if there really was nothing on the other side. The possibilities had me quickening my pace. I kept bracing myself for something mutated and bloody to slam into the glass, or for something long and scaly to slither past, but nothing did. And the more nothing did, the more uneasy I became until I was practically running.

  What the hell did he have to show me that he couldn’t just take pictures of? Was he really making me go through that place after being trapped in that creepy closet? He had some serious explaining to do.

  The funhouse of windows continued for what felt like forever. Part of me wondered if maybe that was what he was trying to show me. If it was, I wasn’t seeing the appeal. Then, abruptly, it stopped and there was nothing. No wall. No window. Nothing separating me from whatever was on the other side. Just a vast opening to nothingness. God, this was a bad idea.

  The silence was unlike anything I had ever heard. It wasn’t thick or unwelcoming. It just was, like someone with no hearing, a sort of calm that was enhanced by the obscurity. It would have been nice if I wasn’t braced for an attack.

  “You made it!” The sudden explosion of sound nearly set me on my butt when I jumped. I whirled around to find Isaiah hurrying towards me from the opposite end of the corridor where the blackness continued. He was wearing the biggest smile.

  “What is this place?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “I have no idea, but it’s amazing. Come on.”

  He grabbed my hand before I could protest and dragged me to the opening. That’s where I froze.

  “There’s no floor.” And there wasn’t. Everything after the lip was a straight drop off into an abyss. Yeah, I had a problem with that.

  “There is. I promise.” He dropped my hand and took my shoulders when I continued to show signs of sanity. “Trust me.”

  I looked at him. “I trust you just fine. I just don’t trust your eyesight. Dude, there is no floor.”

  With an amused sigh, he released me and took a step back, getting closer to the edge. My stomach dropped even as my fingers twitched at my sides. I would have lunged for him had my sneakers not found roots into the ground. I couldn’t move. I was too afraid to even breathe.

  “Isaiah, wait…” My voice was barely above a whisper. “Stop!”

  Then it was just the toes of his sneakers keeping him from plummeting into the unknown. I swore and dove for him. My nails cut into flesh as my fingers curled into fabric. But rather than save him, the impact of my weight sent us both stumbling back. I might have screamed. I might have also soiled myself. All I knew was that we were no longer on safe ground.

  “Fallon.” His hands were warm against my back. “Open your eyes.”

  Part of my brain had already registered the unbelievable—that we were not plunging to our deaths—while the other part was still grasping with the idea that I wasn’t dead. I did a whole lot of swearing and panting as I pried one eyelid open and squinted at my surroundings.

  The ground beneath our feet was solid despite the way it reflected the darkness above us. I wasn’t sure I was fully comforted by this fact, but was relieved that I wasn’t a Fallon pancake.

  “Okay?”

  I drew away from Isaiah and extracted my claws from his chest. “I’ll let you know.”

  He rubbed the crumpled state of his shirt. “Ow.”

  “So you brought me all the way here to show me a dark hole?”

  He snorted. “I sometimes forget what a romantic you are.” His long fingers threaded through mine. “Come on.”

  “I’m romantic,” I protested, allowing myself to be led. “Sorry empty darkness doesn’t get me giddy.”

  He chuckled.

  “So where are you taking me?”

  “Nervous?”

  I rolled my eyes. “I wasn’t, but now that you said that, I feel like I should be.”

  “Should be, but aren’t. Duly noted.”

  I shouldered him. “Also note that I think being in this place has started messing with your head.”

  He gave a brisk nod. “Also noted.”

  “Is this a boy thing?”

  “Are all these questions a girl thing?”

  I squinted at him. “Have you been talking to Archer?”

  “Have you been questioning him, too?” He huffed. “Here I thought I was somehow special.”

  “You’re in an interesting mood,” I observed. “What are you up to?”

  “There you are with the questions again.”

  “You’re taking me into endless darkness. I don’t like darkness.”

  Something in my voice, a barely audible hitch, had him drawing short. He stopped and turned to me. His hand left mine and lightly stroked down my arms to rest just above the elbows. He gave a light squeeze. I should have been a little surprised that I could see him so well, see the dazzling blue of his eyes. The light from the corridor was a good twenty feet behind us and yet I could easily make out the lines of his face and see the tint of blue in his dark hair. It never failed to amaze me how beautiful he was. Like it somehow shouldn’t be possible and yet…

  “Would I ever take you somewhere unsafe?”

  Feeling stupid for thinking otherwise, I shook my head. “No.”

  “Exactly.” With a crooked smile, he released me and took a step back. “Close your eyes.”

  I did and listened as he moved around behind me. The heat of his body pushed against my back like a physical nudge before his hands found home on my shoulders. It took some serious mental pep talking to keep from leaning back into him. It was hard because every tip of every finger was a pressure urging me to do just that.

  “Lumen.” A heartbeat passed, then, “Okay. Open.”

  I blinked once, and then stared at the wonderment unfolding before my eyes. I watched as splotches of purple bled into peacock blue and saffron yellow into emerald green. I watched as millions of pinpricks of light prickled to life as whole galaxies erupted to life above our heads. Swirls of white light so close I was sure I could touch glowed with radiance against a backdrop of inky black. Clouds of red, purple, yellow, blue and green blossomed like a fresh bruise and it was breathtaking. I had no recollection of reaching for Isaiah’s hand until I felt the soft squeeze of his fingers.

  I turned to him. “What…?”

  He chuckled. “Told you you’d like it.”

  I couldn’t find words to speak as I stared at the universe surrounding us. Beneath our feet, the reflection glowed. For a moment, it was like standing in the middle of space, which I knew was impossible, but even I had a hard time reminding myself of that as I was held mesmerized by the magic.

  In the distance, the thin strip of light from the corridor continued to shimmer, a beacon of safety, but I wasn’t scared.

  “Where is this place?”

  Isaiah shrugged. “I have no idea.”

  “Is it real?”

  He slowly rocked his head from side to side. “I don’t know.”

  Tentatively, I reached for the closest pulse of light, a star that shimmered just inches from my face. I expected heat, or a zap, but my fingers slipped through with only the slightest tingle.

  “How did you find this?”

  “Archer. He gave me a tour while you were talking with your dad.”

  Disbelieving and in awe, I shook my head. “This is incredible.”

  “It gets better.”

  I opened my
mouth to laugh. There was no way that was possible. I was standing in space, surrounded by millions of galaxies and stars. Nothing was better than that. Then he grabbed my hand and everything twirled a brilliant smear of colors as I was spun beneath his arms then jerked into his chest. I laughed as my head rushed and my heart raced. Isaiah chuckled into my temple. His hand flattened against my lower back. The other remained clasped around mine.

  “Watch this.” He slid the hand on my back down to reach into his pocket. He came back out with a silver pen.

  “A rawel.” I looked up at him. “Why do you—”

  “Archer let me borrow his.”

  He took a single step back and raised the device. His thumb flipped the notch and it extended to its full length. Raising it, pointy-end up, he gave it a wave. The stars began to spin. They moved and danced in time with the rawel. I laughed in amazement.

  “Ready?” Isaiah grinned at me.

  I nodded and watched as he vacuumed the stars into the rawel, flipped the device over and stabbed it into the ground where it wobbled but remained upright. He grabbed my hand and tugged me back three steps.

  “What—?”

  My question was answered when an explosion of stars erupted from the end, blasting in all directions in a fountain of colors. Mid-height, they burst like fireworks, showering us in glitter.

  “Oh my God!” I cried, spinning on the spot. “It’s so beautiful!”

  With a joyous laugh, I raised my arms and tried to catch a handful, still twirling on the heel of my sneakers. My hair fanned out behind me. I felt the heavy curtain sweep over my shoulder when I slowed and turned to find Isaiah.

  He stood several feet from me, hands in his pocket, his attention all on me. I felt the punch of his watchful stare square in the gut and the falling stars were forgotten. My hands dropped to my sides as he closed the distance between us. They trembled. I trembled. I barely breathed. I watched with shaky anticipation as he stopped inches from me and let the full weight of his heat crash into me. His hands were so steady as they lifted from his sides and reached for the side of my face. I made a sound I couldn’t even identify, something between a moan and a person choking. Gentle fingertips replaced a curl on my cheek. The feather light caress danced like electric wires down my spine.

  “You need to stop touching me,” I only half teased, cotton-mouthed and half-crazed by the possibility that he might actually take me seriously.

  “Why?” His breath fanned over my dry and already parted lips.

  I opened my eyes, surprised to find them closed. “Because I won’t want you to stop.”

  The band of steel slipped around my waist until I was supported only by him, by his arm, his chest, his heat, his scent… God, this was home. My fingers curled into the soft material of his shirt.

  “I can’t stop.” His lips wrote each word against mine in the caress of butterfly wings.

  My bones liquefied. I nearly fainted.

  “Why?” The single word was a mere movement of my lips.

  His free hand shackled my chin, guided my face up, held me prisoner to eyes much too animal to be human. “Because I don’t want to stop.”

  If there was ever any possibility of remembering to breathe, it was gone. I was barely conscious, barely even sane as I sunk into blissful madness cured only by his lips … his touch.

  “Then don’t. Touch me.” My desperate plea was met with a fierce growl.

  His eyes, dark and feral, bore into mine. “Fallon…”

  I opened my mouth, fully prepared to beg, but his finger against my lips became a barricade, trapping the words on my tongue.

  “Don’t!” His finger drew back, traced the curve of my bottom lip. His eyes followed the slow caress the way a cat watches a canary. “I can’t promise I’ll remain in control if you speak.”

  I was too much of a melted mess to think of anything to say. I let myself be pushed back as he sucked in a breath and turned away. He swooped down and snatched up the rawel. The star display instantly stopped as he shrunk it back to pen size and stuffed it into his pocket. Without a word, he threaded his long fingers through mine and maneuvered me back to the corridor.

  “Wait!” I gasped, realizing what he was doing. “You can’t do that. You can’t say those things and then turn me away.”

  His abrupt halt had me colliding into his back. His head snapped around so he could glower at me from over his shoulder. “Turn you away?” He snorted. “I don’t even think that’s a possibility at this point.”

  Curious and oddly light headed, I let myself be pulled. I didn’t ask where he was taking me. I didn’t care as long as we got there quick. The ache had spread through my body like a slow, torturous burn. I wanted his touch like a balm. I tried to concentrate on the feel of his hand wrapped possessively around mine, but it just wasn’t enough.

  “Almost there,” he said without glancing back.

  Where? I wanted to snap. Why can’t it be here? Right here?

  We followed the path Archer and I had taken from my room at a near run. Our combined footfall thundered in the quiet. Our labored breathing music to my ears; I’d never heard him out of breath before.

  “Are we there?”

  He didn’t answer. His grip tightened as if he was afraid I might change my mind; I was never a fast runner, never as fast as he was, but I was keeping up as if our lives depended on it.

  At long last, after what felt like eons, we reached my room. One of us pushed open the doors and we both stumbled inside.

  I turned on him, hands reaching, closing over clothes. “Now!”

  I was shoved into the doors he kicked closed and restrained there by his body. My arms became full of rugged muscles as they circled around him, welcoming him home. I trembled, burning from the inside out. My heart galloped wildly in time with his, a fierce battle to see which could break free of our bodies first. I dampened my lips, my very soul on the brink of agony. I was half-mad with the need for him.

  Please touch me! Please touch me! Touch me!

  I knew he heard me. I knew there was no way he hadn’t. My mind was a cyclone of insanity and he was smack-dab in the middle of it. He had the power to calm the storm. He had the power to make the torture stop. Instead … instead his fingers were tracing my face, penciling every curve and contour of my face into his memory. The caress, although soothing, wasn’t nearly enough to quench the thirst inside me. I needed him.

  His lips bowed into a cruel smile. His eyes, dark … hungry, bore into mine. His fingers slid down the length of my jaw and over the hammering pulse at my throat. My stomach wrenched. My knees buckled. Every inch of skin broke out in goose pimples. My eyes closed as my head dropped back, exposing my throat to him.

  His mouth found the sensitive patch of skin just beneath the curve of my jaw and my entire body convulsed in a violent quake. The gasp tore from my lungs. My fingers burrowed into his hair, fisting and holding him to the spot.

  It wasn’t enough. The nip of his teeth on my hot flesh, the trace of his tongue over my hammering pulse, his fingers, pushing and dragging away the hem of my shirt to reach for the skin underneath … it wasn’t enough.

  Trembling, panting, I reached for his hem. I hooked my finger into the soft material and yanked. My first attempt only brought the shirt halfway. It bunched beneath his arms. He drew back, stared at me with eyes deep pits of fire matching that burning within me. I expected him to say no, to refuse. But he dragged the shirt off and tossed it somewhere. Then he was back, pushing all that gloriously naked flesh into me, into my hands, my anxious, greedy … wanting hands, as he returned the favor. He liberated me of my t-shirt, leaving me clad in only my white bra as he splayed his large hands around my waist. We both groaned as some of the throbbing deep inside calmed to a gentle roar. The skin to skin contact was cool water on a burn. Our hands were leeches, sucking the relief the other offered.

  I touched everything. I let my hands claim every inch of his torso. I let my nails leave shallow welts in his be
autiful, golden skin. He hissed a powerful, guttural sound of raw pleasure. His back arched into my hands as his body gave a shudder. His head fell back, his eyes closed, his teeth bared.

  Mine! The animal inside me snarled.

  His eyes opened and snapped down to mine. “Yours,” he vowed.

  It was my turn to growl, my turn to wrap my arm around his neck, to fist my fingers into his silky hair and drag him to me.

  “Kiss me!” It wasn’t a damn request.

  I felt the shift of his weight as he pushed me harder into the cool surface of the door. He raised one arm and planted his forearm just over my head as he leaned in close. I held my breath, but it came out in a torn gasp as he whispered a finger down the column of my spine. He started lowering his head again, but at the last second, he stopped, pulled back.

  “What?” I panted, dizzy with his scent. “What’s wrong?”

  The left corner of his mouth quirked up in a humorless smile. “I’m afraid I won’t be able to stop if I kiss you.”

  My stomach jittered. My fingers tightened in his hair. “Then don’t,” I moistened my lips. “Kiss me, Isaiah. I need you—”

  He kissed me and the world stopped spinning. I stopped breathing. Ropes of fire shot through my veins as the taste of him lanced through me like a sword. I gasped and he took advantage of my parted lips to plunge in his tongue, deepening the kiss. The hunger of his mouth arched my feet until every inch separating us was closed as I pressed myself into him and wrapped myself around him. One of us moaned. It might have been me because a second later, a deep growl emanated from him that vibrated against my lips. His arms banded around me like a straightjacket and compressed me into his chest.

  The kiss hardened. It became frantic, desperate, two panicked souls finally at that peak moment of euphoria. We were unhinged, soaked and drowning in the liquid pool of bliss. Our hands slid and skimmed the length of the other’s body, not a single reachable inch undiscovered. There was no room between us, yet it was not close enough. He was not close enough and it drove me insane with frustration.