Flame and Fury

by Lisa Gail Green

The best Aedan could figure, he’d sparked without realizing it, sending an ember into the corner of the tree house. Because that’s where he left her, and that’s where she died. Trapped inside by the fire. Edy and Sam had watched him twenty-four seven for weeks, afraid he’d try to do something drastic. But he was numb inside. Edy swore up and down that it wasn’t his fault. That he couldn’t have been responsible, it had to be just a horrible coincidence.

  In Aedan’s experience, there was no such thing as coincidence.

  Chapter Six

  Aedan

  On the opposite side of the tree there was no marked tombstone, just a bit of smooth glass peeking out over a small mound. The mound was a makeshift grave Aedan had created on his own for V number three. It was a place he felt was beautiful. The glass was his way of creating a secret stone – the only place he’d ever used his “special talent” on purpose. He’d heated a small pile of sand until it turned to glass…

  Aedan withdrew after Carrie’s death. Adamant that he wouldn’t let it happen again. But just two years later, he’d met Megan. Megan with her long dark hair and smooth chocolate skin. Her lilting laugh and love for nature. It was love at first sight, and she hadn’t let him shy away. Wherever he went, she was there. And eventually, she wore him down. He told himself he’d take it slow. Told himself he was older now, that he could handle it. That he’d become a pro at controlling his ability.

  And it worked too. For a long time. They were happy, and even when things got heated he was able to pull back and push it all down into a little ball of lava in the pit of his stomach.

  Then came that day, nearly a year ago, when he’d come over to her house. Her parents had left for the weekend, and they went out back on the old wooden swing covered in these faded blue flowered cushions. The scent of the tangled jasmine along the sides of the deck drifted up, and the cool tartness of the lemonade she’d made stung the inside of his cheeks. He drained the glass, and set it down on the stained deck. She lay back across his lap, smiling up at him while he ran his fingers through her silky hair. That’s how he always wanted to remember her, with the sun filtering through the lattice of the overhang on the deck, striping her skin half in shadow, half in a heavenly glow.

  “I love you, Aedan,” she said. It was barely more than a whisper, but the words made his heart speed up, the fire ignite in his chest. He pushed it all away, down tight, and gathered her into his arms for a kiss. But it was more than a kiss. More than one of their usual make out sessions too. He could feel it in the air.

  She pulled off her sundress and climbed into his lap. Their hands were all over each other. Before he knew it his shirt was off too, then his jeans, and her bra.

  “Your skin is so hot,” she whispered in his ear, as he buried his face in the soft space between her shoulder and neck. And as her fingers explored his body, he realized the ball inside him was growing, making his very blood boil.

  Aedan leaped off the swing, breathing hard. Megan looked confused, her hair now hanging in disarray over her face. He pulled his fingers back through his own hair and could smell the singed ends. He was losing it and fast.

  “Come back, Aedan. It’s okay. I want this.”

  “I have to go,” he said, turning away from her. He just needed to breathe through this. It would be okay, he was sure. Then he would put on his clothes, and go home. He’d call Megan later. Explain things maybe.

  Megan’s hands wrapped around him from behind, smoothing over his chest. He pulled away, spinning around, and stumbling backward. “Stop!” he said.

  But she only laughed like he was making a joke. Then she shoved him back onto the porch swing, and let her last bit of clothing fall to the ground. Aedan was sure he was hyperventilating he was breathing so hard. He squeezed his eyes shut, and tried to contain the fire within. To beat it back down into a ball inside his stomach. Only Megan was climbing on top of him.

  “I said, stop.” His eyes snapped open, and he pushed her off, springing to his feet. But it was too late, and he knew it. So he did the only thing he could think of, and threw himself off the deck and onto the hard ground, then curled into a tight ball.

  “Stay back!” he screamed as every inch of him prickled and popped, then the blaze burst forth from below his skin. It wasn’t painful exactly, more of a release to tell the truth. He heard her shrieking and had to look. Had to make sure the fire hadn’t made the leap from his body to the deck.

  Megan landed on top of him a split second after he turned. She’d thrown herself on him to smother the fire. To her eyes it, looked as though he was burning alive, and she did the first thing she could think of to save him.

  Their eyes met, and he would never in his miserable life forget her expression as her hair ignited. The flames devoured her like dry kindling even as he reached to push her away. But of course his hands were just as much a source of danger as the rest of him, and he hadn’t let go of her arms fast enough. He’d frozen in terror as her inhuman screams filled the air. And only after some time did it register in his head, that he was holding her, burning straight through the bone with his very hands.

  He let go, scooting away from her as she crumpled to the ground. His own fire had bled down to nothing, and all of the energy had transferred to her. The one person he never wanted to hurt, who was now no more than a pile of ash. And whether he’d meant to or not, he’d held onto Megan while it was happening. He’d signed her death certificate.

  Aedan was a coward. He knew that. He ought to be in jail now. Or some government lab. But he couldn’t bring himself to tell anyone what had happened. He’d just let her parents and his believe she’d disappeared since there was no sign of her or the fire left behind. It was the day he learned that he could direct it all onto one target if he chose. That if he wanted to, he could kill anyone, destroy anything, and no one would ever know.

  It was the day he truly understood he was evil.

  Chapter Seven

  Maya

  Maya paused her ascent, bracing against the hard rock face of the mountain in order to get enough leverage to pull out her water bottle. She chugged greedily, then replaced it in the side pocket of her backpack, and continued scaling the wall.

  By the time she reached the top, her skin was slick with sweat, every muscle in her body sore. She collapsed to the ground, shucking her pack, and sucking in air that scalded her throat with every breath. Her mind cleared up there, high in the Tucson mountains. So high that the saguaros stopped peppering the ground in abundance. Below they looked like an army of tiny soldiers, ready and waiting to destroy any banditos daring to look for refuge in their shade.

  Maya lay back, squinting up at the uniform cerulean sky above, watching as a bird of prey circled above, its wings spread wide while it glided over the desert searching for signs of unsuspecting lizards or jackrabbits.

  It was far too silent out here for her taste. She debated belting out a song but decided it would be unfair to torture the wildlife just because she was antsy. Instead, she turned her thoughts to the plan.

  She’d narrowed the area down to Tucson and the greater surrounding area. Basically, the Fire Elemental had to be residing somewhere between Picacho Peak and Tubac according to the astrological maps she’d had Toby draw and study. And Toby was never wrong.

  Target F also had to be male according to the birth charts. Toby’s “balance principle” meant that every 200-year cycle the Elementals reversed gender. So last time Fire and Water were female. Wind and Earth male. Therefore, this time, Fire and Water were male, and Wind and Earth were female. Yet another reason she took Fire. As much as she hated the heat, the ocean was not her friend. The beach held too many memories of Corey because they’d lived in San Diego back then.

  She also knew that F was likely to be hot – as in good looking. It was all part of the black magic used to create these things. She shuddered despite the heat and shifted her gaze to the right where a gecko skittered across the ground. The Elementals were by definition gorgeous, pow
erful, intelligent, impulsive, and without a conscience. It had been that way for millennium. It would continue to be that way for millennium. Because if it didn’t, that meant that Maya and the other members of the Circle had failed to prevent the gathering on the equinox. And that was simply not an option.

  Maya never failed. She’d trained her entire life, just like her parents before her, and their parents before them. And at the tender age of four, the impossible had happened. Her family had been shattered. They’d lost Corey to the Scimitar, and now it was personal. It was because of them that the person who meant the most to her in the world was gone forever. It was because of them that her parents’ hearts turned to steel. But she would fix that.

  She wouldn’t fail to kill the Elemental.

  She’d done the boring part. She’d searched all the records for boys born on September 22, 1996. Then she started checking them off one by one. It was pretty easy until she got down to the last ten or so. Each one fit the physical description. Each one had never lived in a cold climate. In fact, two hadn’t ever left Tucson.

  Now it was down to the final five. Aedan, Michael, Ethan, Paul, and Carlos. The only way to know for sure was to either see the mark, which was in a very private place. Or get him to lose control and start a fire.

  Maya sighed. Tonight Michael Abramson was her target, and she needed to shower first. She wasn’t looking forward to it though. Somehow her encounter with Aedan earlier had left her unsettled. But it didn’t matter if she wanted to kiss Michael. What mattered was that was the easiest way to determine whether he was the One she was searching for. Target F. And she really hoped he was. Then this whole damn thing would be over with.

  Enough wallowing. Time to go. She was about to prep for the climb down, when she sensed it. The prickle along the back of her neck alerted her to its presence. The mountain lion hadn’t made a sound as it crept along the ledge behind her. It was as much of an expert hunter as the hawk overhead. But Maya wasn’t typical prey.

  A smile played at her mouth, as she inched her fingers along the dirt toward her waistband. Slowly. Slowly.

  It pounced, a long lithe shadow blocking out the sun. Maya rolled, unsheathing her knife with one fluid movement. And by the time she was on her feet, the lion lay motionless on the ground. Dark sticky blood oozed from its neck soaking into the dirt. Maya held, the knife ready in her left hand while the warm wet liquid dripped down the blade and onto her fist. One golden brown leg twitched, and she tensed. But then the beast was quiet, and she eventually relaxed, wiping the weapon on the hide before replacing it at her side. Such a waste.

  She stared at the corpse while she downed another bottle of water. The color of the fur reminded her of Aedan’s eyes. When she thought of him, she opened a third bottle and emptied the whole thing over her head. It was hot, so not nearly as refreshing as she’d hoped. But she stuffed the empty in her pack, fixed the whole thing over her back and around her waist, and started her descent.

  Chapter Eight

  Maya

  “Hey.” Maya hoisted herself up on top of the counter and crossed her bare legs. She was wearing a skirt. Well, not so much a skirt as a very long black belt, and a jewel-blue tank top just as low cut as always. Her long red hair coiled on the place setting behind her, and she grinned hungrily at the boy on the other side.

  Michael Abramson was tall and handsome, even in his white paper hat, apron, and red bowtie. He had curly black hair, and deep set eyes the color of mesquite. He flashed her his smile, revealing his very white and even teeth. “Can I help you?”

  “Oh I think you can,” she said, leaning forward and swishing her leg a little. The mother in the booth across from her glared while her toddler screamed for more French fries. Maya winked at her before beckoning Michael closer with her finger. He leaned in, and she let her breath warm his ear for a second before speaking. “I forgot my purse, and I’m hungry.”

  Michael straightened up, and his eyes grew wide. “Oh. Well, I can’t really…”

  “Oh I’d be happy to pay you back,” she said. “In fact, I think it would be fun.” She batted her eyes at him, and he swallowed hard.

  “Excuse me, Miss, but you’re going to have to get down off of the counter. Didn’t Mike tell you? It’s a sanitary issue.” A man in his thirties came over from the host stand and frowned at Maya then Michael. She gave a guilty little pout to the boy behind the counter and hopped down.

  “Do you ever get off for good behavior?” she asked Michael as the man disappeared into the kitchen behind him.

  “Actually my shift is almost over,” he said, eyes flicking downward toward her outfit. “Maybe I could buy you something to eat someplace else?”

  “Sounds perfect,” she said. “I’ll be waiting.” She walked out the door, pinched a French fry from the basket in front of the disapproving mother, and popped it in her mouth.

  Ten minutes later and she was in the passenger seat of Michael’s car. New, but far from top of the line. He started the engine, flipped on the air, and turned toward her.

  “Where do you want to go?” he asked.

  “How about we skip the food and go right for dessert?” she asked, running a finger down his arm. His skin was clammy, but not particularly hot. Still, that wasn’t necessarily a sign until it was almost too late. And they hadn’t done anything. Yet.

  Maya climbed onto her knees, and wrapped her arms around Michael’s neck, pulling his face to hers. He practically knocked her over backward he was so eager to kiss her. His tongue was all over the place, and so were his hands. Typical eighteen-year-old boy. She waited for it, as he started on her neck. He worked his hands beneath her shirt, his palms flat against her back. No heat. In fact, they were a little cold. She wanted to shove him off, but she had to make absolutely sure. You’d think after centuries of this shit, the Circle might have come up with a less invasive way of identifying the Target. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. She didn’t have to go this route, but she liked the idea that her parents wouldn’t necessarily approve.

  “Let’s go somewhere more comfortable,” Maya said as he tugged at her tank.

  Michael detached himself from her, and fell back into the driver’s seat, chest pumping hard beneath his stupid white shirt. It wasn’t that he wasn’t hot. He was most definitely her type. But for some reason, that night, she just wasn’t into it. Unfortunately, her mood didn’t have any bearing on whether she performed her duty.

  “Where should we go? I still live at home…” Michael said, unable to tear his eyes from her chest.

  She tugged her outfit back into place and pulled on the seatbelt. “My place. No extra eyes.”

  “How do you have your own place?” he asked. “You just graduated too, right? I mean I’ve seen you around.”

  Actually, she was twenty but had to pretend otherwise. “Yeah. But I share an apartment with my brother. And he’ll be out tonight.” Maya’s throat tried to close when she said the word “brother.” But she forced her way through it. Toby was more like a second cousin. A guy she grew up with that felt like family. Her real brother, Corey, had been dead for years now. “Just head down toward the University.”

  He barely waited for her to turn the key in the lock before launching himself at her again. She leaned back against the door until it clicked shut, and let him pull her top off. Then she shoved him backward until he fell back on the old suede couch. She climbed over him and pulled his shirt off.

  Not bad. Certainly well defined, but all she could think of was Aedan’s taught muscles beneath his black tee. The way his skin felt so hot it was like playing with fire. Did that mean he was the One? The thought made her stomach turn.

  “Do you like things hot?” she asked Michael, pressing his hands to his sides so they wouldn’t grope her anymore.

  “Oh yeah,” he said, eyes wide like he couldn’t believe his luck. “The hotter the better.”

  “Great,” she said. “Wait here.”

  She made sure to switch her hips as
she made her way to the third bedroom where Toby kept the weapons. His cat, Copernicus shot out of her way like an arrow the minute she opened the door. Ignoring him, she scooped up a pair of handcuffs and palmed a marble sized flashball from the shelf, then came back out swinging the cuffs around her finger. Michael licked his lips and sat up straighter. Maya nearly rolled her eyes when she saw he was in only his tighty whities, but she had to keep up the act.

  She paused and beckoned him to follow her to her tiny room where she made a production of cuffing him to the headboard. She straddled him again and tossed her hair back over her shoulder. There had been several times she’d chosen the more dangerous option and seen it all the way through. But tonight she wasn’t in the mood.

  She raised a hand and showed him the tiny round ball between her fingers. His eyebrows lifted with curiosity.

  “What’s that for?” he asked. “Come on baby, kiss me.”

  “It’s called a flashball. I push it like this,” she said, placing pressure on it. The ball collapsed between her fingers as she squeezed her eyes shut, and the bright light that filled the room was so blinding she could still see spots exploding like white fireworks behind her eyelids. “And you’re placed in a hypnotic trance, very susceptible to any suggestions I might make.”

  She opened her eyes, and patted him on the stomach, grinning at his slack face. The pupils in his eyes dilated so there was barely any color left visible. She stood, and slipped her hands beneath the waistband of his underwear, hesitating for only a moment before tugging them down to his knees.

  Please be the One. Please be the One. She kept repeating it as she readied herself to search for the mark. A pentagram shaped, purple birthmark.

  All the tension melted from her shoulders the moment she was done. And anxiety was replaced by pity as she instructed the boy to dress and go home with no memory of their encounter.