Rise from Ash

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Rise from Ash Page 5

by Fleur Smith


  Running from his hunt was as much for his benefit as it was for mine.

  While I struggled to catch my breath, a creeping dread flamed across my skin, sending pinpricks rising up over my body and making the tiny hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

  I looked up, almost expecting to see Clay standing right in front of me with his gun drawn and his finger on the trigger. When I instead found the street empty, I spun in a slow circle until my eyes fell on a dark figure lingering beneath a streetlight about half a block away. I squinted in an attempt to see the man better, but my vision blurred slightly as I did. The figure was too tall to be Clay. Even with the distance between us it was obvious that he would tower over Clay’s six-foot stature. A thick black hood, or maybe it was a mane of jet-black hair, covered his face so I couldn’t see him properly. I blinked and then he was gone. If he was ever really there.

  I shook my head. Now you’re imagining things on top of everything else.

  It was possible the man was a warning from Clay, to prove that not only was Clay chasing me, but he was also willing to send other Rain operatives after me too. Despite my desire to live for Dad’s sake, I couldn’t help but sink into the hopelessness of it all. Understanding dawned stronger in me than it ever had before—there would never be an escape for me. I had no sanctuary, no safe place to rest ever again. I closed my eyes.

  “Come and get me then!” I screamed at the night.

  Lights flickered on in the houses all around me, but no one charged out of the darkness coming for me with drawn weapons or hate-filled stares.

  I waited until the lights in the houses turned off again one by one and still no one came to kill me. Instead of relief, I just felt tired.

  There was little else I could do, so I shook off the chills that the encounter had left me with and lifted my bag onto my back. Risking another quick glance in the direction of the still-vacant spot underneath the streetlight, I moved forward again.

  My body had recovered enough to walk away, but I didn’t have enough left in me to run. I couldn’t keep doing this—dodging out of rooms in the middle of the night as he tracked me down. The only logical thing to do was to avoid staying in motels.

  What then?

  I shook off the thought. If I let it take me, I would end up back in the clutches of the darkness Aiden had rescued me from by taking me to his court. I never wanted to live under that cloud again, but I wasn’t willing to risk any temporary friendships or take advantage of kind strangers to ease my suffering. I deserved to be alone; at least I couldn’t accidentally hurt anyone that way.

  What little life I’d carved out for myself, I’d earned. I wouldn’t give that up just because survival was sometimes harder than it should have been.

  When I reached the outskirts of town, I decided I would try my luck with some of the techniques for starting cars that I’d read about on the Internet. I found a likely street and began to stalk my prey.

  The tinted window of a nearby car caught my reflection in the darkness and threw it back at me. Despite the hood that shrouded my face, the sight was enough to make me pause.

  In the grim reflection, I looked every part the monster that I’d become. I searched in vain for glimpses of my past innocence, but tired and despondent lilac irises stared back at me. Hidden beneath the gaunt and pale waif I’d grown into, I was scarcely able to detect any hints of the innocent girl I’d once been.

  I thought back to that girl, the one who’d waited for Clay in a hotel room in Salem full of hope and optimism. She had been pretty and enthusiastic. Despite the heartache she’d endured, she was willing to fight for her own happiness.

  She was long gone. Dead and buried by twelve months of fear and heartbreak.

  Was it Louise’s death or Clay’s hatred that had destroyed her?

  Hunger and starvation had undoubtedly caused some of the worst changes to my appearance, carving my cheeks and leaving them hollowed. The unnatural thinness accentuated my cheekbones in a way that had been attractive on Aiden’s delicate features but was alien and overly dramatic on my face. My lips were still as full as always, but they were barely pink, so pale they almost blended into the skin of my face.

  It was a far cry from the girl in the mirror at the Hawthorne Hotel—the one who might have fit into a world of decadence and romance and was ready to risk it all for love.

  “Love is a goddamned lie!” I growled at my reflection before smashing my fist against the window. The glass shattered and moments later a shrill alarm pierced through the silence of the night. I twisted around to ensure that no one had spotted me before running from the car. I wasn’t sure how far away the owner actually was, but regardless, I couldn’t risk being caught.

  Not now.

  Not ever.

  It would be safer to walk.

  CHAPTER SIX

  WHEN THE NIGHTS grew colder, I moved south. It was not long after Christmas when I found myself near Tallahassee—where the temperature was at least somewhere above freezing overnight. Although the cold didn’t affect me entirely, keeping somewhat warm at least help me conserve some energy. I disappeared into the forests and left the beaten track far behind me.

  Feeling safer in the dark of the forest than I had in a long time, and secure in the middle of nowhere, I’d taken the opportunity to set up a makeshift campsite. It was something I rarely allowed myself to do, but for once, I just needed a break. I had to stop, or give up and return to Aiden’s court. Or worse still, what I was sure I would do, run back to Clay and let him and the Rain do what they did to all non-humans.

  In the position I’d staked out for myself, in a small clearing surrounded on all sides by thick, luscious trees, I was confident I’d be able to hear anyone coming with enough time to retreat into the forest and escape.

  Around dusk each night, I set a proper campfire. To avoid detection, I kept it low and used the driest branches I could find to reduce the smoke. It was good enough for a little warmth, though, and to heat the food I’d stolen before disappearing—if you could call almost inedible canned meats “food.”

  After a couple of days, I started to go a little crazy. While I’d needed to escape the stress of the never-ending running, not doing anything allowed me far too much time to do nothing but think. My mind wasn’t a safe place when there was nothing to distract me.

  Staring into the flames of the campfire, the flickering light was enough to transport me back to the day Louise ambushed me. Her pain-filled screams echoed from the past and filled my mind. I’d tried to warn her. I knew I couldn’t have controlled the sunbird’s protective nature, but it didn’t stop me from having the nightmares. I’d killed her. Whether I’d meant to or not, I was responsible, and it had cost me everything I had left in this world.

  How could Clay ever forgive me, let alone feel anything of the love he’d once had?

  Trying to shift the image, I prodded the fire with a stick, moving the bracken around to keep the flames even. I stilled when a whistling sound filled the air. To anyone else, it might have just sounded like a slightly off-tune bird, but the pitch was too low, the sound too resonant. It wasn’t a bird, and it was almost enough to stop my heart.

  When an answering call filled the air, I leaped into action. With my heart racing at a mile a minute, I kicked dirt over the fire to extinguish the flames. Once it was out, I found my way straight into a clump of trees nearby. Looking around me to ensure I hadn’t already garnered attention, I crouched low and snuck around the edges of the campsite until I reached my bag. Carefully drawing it to me, I slipped it onto my back and readied myself to run.

  Just as I was about to move, someone stepped from between the trees on the other side of the camp. Through the darkness, I could only make out the shape of Clay’s eyes.

  A strangled sound rushed from me before I could stop it, and a lump rose in my throat. I could barely breathe. Despite the fact that he’d been so close for so long, I hadn’t seen him since the motel in Rolla. Fighting the urge
to reveal myself and run to him, I watched as he moved farther into the clearing. When he did, my stomach sank.

  As soon as he was closer, I could tell that I only saw what I wanted to see. The eyes were familiar, so was the hair, but it was Ethan, not Clay, who was in front of me. Ethan, who looked so much like the one I longed to see and yet so different all at once.

  He kneeled to the ground near the fire pit I’d extinguished and leaned forward to touch his fingers to the soil.

  “Hey!” he shouted.

  Fear gripped me in her icy clutches, causing my blood to ignite in my veins. The cold air hissed and snapped at the contact with my heated skin. Uncertain whether he’d spotted me or was calling to someone else—Clay?—I withdrew farther into the darkness of the forest while trying to avoid the trees around me. The last thing I needed was to accidentally ignite a dry branch by brushing it with my burning touch.

  I’ll keep you safe, the sunbird whispered.

  “No,” I hissed back. “One death on my hands is more than enough.”

  Another person burst into the small clearing, rushing to Ethan’s side.

  “Something’s been here,” Ethan said. “Recently.”

  Despite the time of night and the fact that we were in the middle of a forest, the other man wore a suit and tie. The way he stood, looking back the way they’d come, I couldn’t get a good look at his face. Other than the fact that he was dressed immaculately in a stupid situation, wore his black hair cropped close to his scalp, and that he had a dark skin tone, I knew nothing about him. The way Ethan spoke to him told me all I needed to know though—he was another Rain operative.

  Ethan stood and brushed the dirt from his hands before turning to the new arrival.

  “Do you think she’s close?” the other person asked. When he glanced around, Ethan nodded.

  My chest clenched at the word “she’s.” They’re here for me . . .

  “It’s still warm.” Ethan pointed to the circle of rocks where I’d set the fire. “She can’t be far. Let’s just hope she hasn’t dragged off some unsuspecting camper for her latest meal. The last thing we need is civilians involved.”

  I couldn’t believe what he thought of me. Did he think that I was some sort of carnivorous beast? As the thought took hold in my mind, the leaves brushing against my shoulder began to smolder.

  Ducking lower to escape the branches, I tried to come up with a plan. I had to get away, or I would end up in the middle of a forest fire of my own making. The only issue was that Ethan was an expert tracker—Clay had told me about his skills when we’d been on the run—and I wasn’t sure I could escape the two Rain operatives. There was also every chance that there were more than just the two of them.

  Clay might be out there.

  The thought cemented my desire to stem the heat in my body. I couldn’t be responsible for a fire that could hurt someone.

  “You go back and get the others,” Ethan said to his friend. “I’ll scout on ahead, see if I can find some tracks or something.”

  “Sure, just watch yourself. From what I’ve seen, this is one crazy bitch. You’ve got the good ammo, right?”

  “I’m not an idiot.”

  They exchanged a loaded look.

  With a sigh, Ethan yanked out his gun and showed his friend something. “See, obsidian. Like I said, I’m not an idiot. Now go get the others already.”

  The other guy took off the way they’d come, and I knew it was my chance to run. Only, I needed to incapacitate Ethan somehow first. If I didn’t, he’d come after me guns blazing. I’d seen his speed firsthand; he’d catch up to me in no time.

  Glancing from side to side to find anything to help, I spotted the blackened leaves beside me. An idea formed. Calming my fire as much as I could so that I didn’t cause premature ignition, I carefully plucked a dozen leaves from the tree, being cautious not to make a sound.

  “Fucking Ben,” Ethan muttered as he bent down to examine the area around the fire pit again. “Trampling in here and destroying the trail, treating me like I’m an idiot. He’s the fucking idiot.”

  I held the leaves between my hands, forcing as much heat as I could into them. Even though they smoldered quickly and the tiny flames bit at my palms, I kept my hands closed.

  Ethan stopped his motion as something on the ground piqued his interest. A second later, his gaze traveled the trail I’d left as I’d escaped into the forest.

  Without a word, he slid his hand onto his gun and raised it, moving closer to the place where I’d first disappeared, just a few yards to my right.

  I held my breath while I waited for him to get closer still. The leaves in my hands had burned down to a pile of ashes. The blisters on my palms would cause me problems later, but better blisters and their problems than a bullet to the brain.

  When he was practically on top of the trees, just a short distance to my right, with his gun aimed away from me, I made my move. Surprising him by leaping from at his side, I blew the smoldering ashes of the leaves into his face.

  He dropped his gun and lifted his hands up to shield his face, and I used his distraction to my advantage. Charging at him, I pressed my hands against his shoulder and attempted to shove him off balance. He was a wall of muscle. He staggered but didn’t go down. The residual heat in my fingertips caught on his shirt and a flicker of flame burst into life. I dropped my hands away as the fear I’d gone too far raced through me.

  I wanted to help him, but there was little I could do for him. At least, not without risking getting caught. I glanced around for his gun, kicking it away from his reach and into the trees. I couldn’t risk taking the time I’d need to stop and pick it up. Then I turned and ran as fast as I could in the opposite direction to the one Ben had taken. Risking one last glance back over my shoulder as I ran, I saw Ethan rip off his shirt and toss it to the ground.

  “Motherfucker!” he shouted as he stomped the flames out with his foot. “What the fuck was that?”

  I didn’t hang around long enough for him to gather his bearings. Instead, I ran in the direction of the water as fast as I could. If I could walk a few miles in the stream, I might be able to shake his pursuit.

  If only the guilt could be left behind so easily.

  As I ran, one inescapable fact echoed through me. The Rain was close and closing in. Clay was right behind me.

  The thought gave me the strength to run faster than ever.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  IN THE LEAD up to my twenty-third birthday—a little less than two years after I’d run from the hospital and Clay—a new melancholy settled over me. In the time I’d been running, I’d found a way to stop the darkness I’d thought existed in me ruining my life. I’d accepted there was a part of me that would fight tooth and nail to survive, and as long as I remembered that, I was able to keep it under control. For however long I could avoid situations that endangered my life, I could restrain that monster within me.

  I wasn’t inherently evil.

  That didn’t stop me from longing for something more though.

  Over the months, the desperation to see Clay again had built within me until it was a palpable presence in my heart. The encounter with Ethan, when I’d been so confident he was Clay, had been a significant catalyst in reigniting the desire within me. The embers had never died, instead of simmering away beneath the surface ready to burst to life at the merest thought of the one I wanted. Just like the last time I had been on my own, I discovered that the passage of the days didn’t ease the hurt that tangled itself through my body and burned me from inside out. Nor did it silence my memories.

  Instead, visions of Clay gripped me tighter with each day that I spent alone. I longed for another opportunity to be with him. Images of his sweet caresses filled my dreams every night only to twist wickedly into nightmares of his hatred. More often than not, I woke shaking with skin so inflamed I was surprised I hadn’t burned down half the forests in the USA. I wanted so desperately to turn my dreams back into happy memories r
ather than the haunting specters they’d become, but I didn’t know how.

  I was still as careful as ever, but I wasn’t sure that I wanted to be careful anymore. Despite everything that had happened between us, the temptation to stop and wait in one place overwhelmed me. It echoed through my body with a permanent vice-like grip on my heart. I was drawing ever closer to the point where I would have gladly given my life for just one more kiss. One more touch. I even spent hours debating with myself the likelihood that he would be willing to provide a monster that one dying wish before fulfilling his destiny.

  The need to see Clay again, whatever the result, grew stronger by the day. Every time I closed my eyes, a voice whispered to me that it would be easier to give up and give in, making it that much harder to keep a safe distance between us.

  All I’d need to do is stop for just one moment . . .

  It was so easy to recall the warmth of his breath tickling along the length of my neck or the way his calloused hands grazed over my skin as they trailed tender paths across my body. During my waking hours, I could control the visions. I could relive the sensations and the emotions without fear of them working against me. The low, earthy tones of his voice as he’d held me tightly and whispered his devotion against my skin echoed in my mind. All of the things that haunted my dreams were mine to enjoy during waking hours.

  As much as I longed for a reunion with the man I loved, I understood there was a likelihood that all that remained in him was the merciless hunter. I could stop and wait, giving in to the temptation for him to claim me one last time before my death, but it was just as likely that my dying vision would be of the hatred in his eyes. I wasn’t sure that I could bear that.

  Any time the risky train of thought that increased my desire to stop fleeing from Clay’s pursuit came thundering along, I tried to halt it by forcing myself to look at the twisted red scar that circled my right wrist like a grim bracelet—a permanent reminder of the consequence of being caught.

 

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