Blaze
Midnight Fire Series Book Three
By
Kaitlyn Davis
Kindle Edition
Copyright 2012 Kaitlyn Davis
Cover Art: Manipulated by Kaitlyn Davis from attribution licensed flickr creative commons photos by: Andrea Rose, Ali Smiles :) and William Warby.
The right of Kaitlyn Davis to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988
This eBook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the author, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorized distribution or use of this text may be direct infringement of the author's rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.
This is a work of fiction and any resemblances between the characters and persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
Other Titles by Kaitlyn Davis
Ignite (Midnight Fire Series Book One)
Simmer (Midnight Fire Series Book Two)
Scorch (Midnight Fire Series Book Four) – Coming 2013
To my family for their unconditional love,
my friends for their overwhelming support,
and my fans for their incredible enthusiasm.
Thank you from the bottom of my heart.
Table of Contents:
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
About The Author
Chapter One
Kira ripped another page from her notebook and crumpled the thick paper between her fingers. Frustrated, she threw the ball into her wastebasket. Quite the collection, she mused as she glanced down at the paper pyramid by her feet. Kira had been sitting at her desk for nearly an hour, but still the right words had eluded her. How could she explain it to Luke, her best friend and ever-faithful protector? No matter what, he would be angry. No matter what, he would feel betrayed. But it was the only way to keep him safe from Aldrich.
Kira sighed and leaned back in her chair, slowly swiveling it from side to side as she thought back a week and a half ago to the night of the Red Rose Ball. Kira could still picture it perfectly: The fear on the vampire Diana’s face when she realized she was about to die. The way both of Kira’s arms lit entirely on fire, pushing her power further than it had ever gone in order to break through Diana’s immunity. The moment Tristan’s maker Aldrich burst into the room only to be interrupted by a swarm of conduits exploding through the windows. The minutes Aldrich spent calmly evaluating her without any hint of fear, knowing his power to move objects with his mind was unbeatable. And of course, the feel of his hand when he slipped her a note with his address, promising that her birth mother would be there, waiting for the daughter who had been taken away from her more than seventeen years ago.
Kira remembered watching the mansion collapse in on itself after the conduits had set it on fire, remembered holding both Tristan and Luke’s hands while the three of them observed in silence. She remembered how the note Aldrich had given her seemed to burn a hole through her pocket and the moment a plan popped into her mind. Most of all, Kira remembered the moment she had decided to act on it.
After destroying the mansion, the conduits retreated to a safe house to question the vampires they had captured. Luke followed, but Kira stayed behind feigning exhaustion. True, she had desperately wanted a shower and a soft bed, but the promise of a few hours alone with Tristan was what she had really needed. That night, while Luke was off on official business, the lie had begun—the lie that made this letter to Luke so difficult to write. Kira and Tristan were going to fight Aldrich, and they were leaving Luke behind.
Kira dropped her pen and glanced at the photo of her and Tristan sitting on the corner of her desk. Taped to the back, hidden behind the blue plastic frame, was the note Aldrich had slipped her before he had escaped. Kira didn’t need to look at it to know what it said—she had the address memorized by now. Her mother was waiting in some cold castle in England and Kira needed to find her. But it wasn’t that simple.
When she first told him, Tristan had been furious. It was the night of the ball and they had just gotten back to the hotel room after ditching Luke. Kira tried to casually let it slip that his maker Aldrich had invited them to his castle, but Tristan wasn’t fooled by her light tone. His eyes had flashed an ice-cold blue that stabbed at Kira’s heart and he yelled at her for the first time. Kira knew it was his own fear and insecurities that fueled the outraged response—his own issues with Aldrich—but Kira suspected Luke’s response wouldn’t be any better, which was why she had decided to keep it a secret.
After calming Tristan down and firmly stating that she would be going to England with or without him, he had finally started listening to her. They worked out a plan to get her birth mother back, but it was a two-person plan. And tomorrow Kira would be ditching Luke at the airport to secretly fly to England with Tristan.
Oh yeah, Kira thought, this will go over very well… not!
She reached for her pen again, ready to finally write a coherent note, when strong arms enveloped her from behind, circling her shoulders and sending a chill down her spine with the suddenly cool touch.
“Hi,” Tristan whispered in her ear as he pressed his cheek against hers and placed a soft kiss on her neck.
“Hi,” Kira said, letting her head fall back against his shoulder. Perfect timing, she thought, thankful for the break from writing this note. A little procrastination never hurt anyone.
“Ready for your party, birthday girl?” He asked.
“Crap—no!” Kira shot up, suddenly energetic with surprise. “What time is it?”
“Almost five.”
Tristan laughed under his breath, not at all surprised that Kira was running late. Never one for shorts, even in the middle of summer, Tristan had on his classic dark blue jeans and a crisp white button-down. Kira didn’t have time to admire how the stark ivory brought out the twinkling blue of his eyes: she was too concentrated on being on time for once in her life.
“No, no no…” Kira buzzed while pulling her t-shirt off and reaching for the yellow cotton dress hanging on the back of her door. She had been so focused on writing the note that she had completely forgotten about her birthday barbecue—the one happening in roughly five minutes. The only reason she was still at home in Charleston was her birthday, otherwise Luke would have shipped her back to Sonnyville already. Kira knew he was eager to keep training her in order to see what her stronger powers meant. He had already forced her to light the wooden table in his backyard on fire, so she didn’t even want to know what he was preparing back in Sonnyville.
“Don’t worry. No one’s here yet,” Tristan said while he watched Kira tug her shorts off and smooth out her dress. Had Kira been less pressed for time, she may have felt a little self-conscious about changing right in front of her boyfriend but, as it was, she didn’t have any time to be insecure.
“Are my parents outside?” Kira asked and bent over to pull the fuzzy socks off of her feet.
“Your dad is starting up the barbecue and your mom is setting plastic plates on the table with
Chloe.”
“Perfect,” Kira said, yanking one last time on the stubborn sock. Tristan put a hand on her back to keep her from falling over and she slipped her feet into a pair of sandals. “How do I look?” Kira said while twirling around a few times.
“Beautiful as always,” he said, catching her hand and guiding her towards him. Kira spun right into his arms and quickly kissed his lips, loving how familiar yet exciting his touch was. The slow exploration of her body, sexy in its restraint, made Kira feel delicate—something she direly needed when most of the time she felt too powerful, too uncontrolled, too… everything.
Tristan pulled back, breaking the kiss, to say, “I hear Emma’s car out front.”
“Just when we were getting to the good stuff,” Kira cursed, making both of them smirk. Her best girl friend was nothing if not prompt.
“I’ll go get everyone to the backyard,” Tristan slipped free of her arms, “you still need to put your contacts on.” Kira grimaced thinking of the bulky, itchy lenses that had become part of her daily routine. She nodded regretfully and pushed Tristan towards the stairs while she stepped into her bathroom.
Only Luke and Tristan knew about the change in her eyes. On their way home after the ball, Kira bought color contacts and had been using them ever since. It wasn’t the perfect solution, but it was something.
Looking in the mirror, Kira still had trouble recognizing herself. Bright cobalt blue irises stared back at her. Orange-yellow flames danced around the edges, pushing into the cooler color and fighting for a place, but the shockingly saturated blue overwhelmed everything else. Sometimes, Kira liked how the blue popped against her red-blonde hair, but mostly she missed the warm, comforting green that used to be there. Her hair was already over the top with its bright hues and voluminous curls, she didn’t need even crazier eyes to get noticed in a crowd.
Nothing else had physically changed about her since the night of the ball, but something stirred inside Kira, making her feel stronger. Luke and Tristan had no explanation for her new eye color, and Kira didn’t want to harp on it when there was so much more to worry about. She had barely used her power since that night, only practicing when Luke forced her. She was more in control of her body and her fire, but the flames she commanded had changed. It was more than just the difference between her softer Protector powers and her rage-filled Punisher flames. Everything was stronger. All of her fire burned brighter, scorched hotter and practically exploded with heat. When Luke had challenged Kira to light his wooden table on fire, it had come easily, like flipping a switch. The destruction was almost too welcome, too natural to her.
A high-pitched screech pulled Kira from her thoughts.
“Kira!” Her younger sister Chloe yelled from the bottom of the steps, “Where are you?”
“Yeah Kira, where are you?” A deeper voice laced with mirth called after. Luke, Kira thought, hearing his laughter mix with Chloe’s a second later.
“Coming!” She yelled and quickly pulled on her eyelid to slip in one contact. More squeals echoed down the empty hallway and Kira followed the sound after quickly putting in her second contact.
When she looked down the steps, Kira saw the source of the noise. Luke had trapped little Chloe in his arms and was tickling her mercilessly while she giggled and squirmed to get away. Kira raced down the steps two at a time to free her sister.
“Kira!” Chloe yelled again before bursting into a new round of giggles. Kira smiled to herself, she knew exactly what to do. Reaching for Luke’s stomach, she squeezed her hands against his abs and gave him a taste of his own medicine.
“No!” Luke laughed against Kira’s attack and released Chloe, who followed Kira’s lead and jumped on Luke to tickle him. He fell to the ground in mock surrender, chuckling helplessly and begging Chloe to stop.
“I win!” She screeched and raced out the back door, leaving Kira and Luke alone. Suddenly, Kira didn’t know where to look. Between his confession of love the night of the Red Rose Ball and her plan to go to England behind his back, things were more than a bit strained. At least, it felt that way to Kira.
She offered her hand, doing her best to ignore the electric jolt his touch caused, and helped pull Luke to his feet. He dusted his khaki shorts off and tugged his navy t-shirt back down below his waist.
“Happy birthday,” he said after a moment.
“Thanks,” Kira responded, briefly glancing at his disheveled blonde locks and slightly strained gaze.
“So, Sonnyville tomorrow? I challenge you to get through an entire meeting with the Council without burning their completely wooden dais to the ground,” he joked, trying to lighten the mood.
“Yeah, can’t wait,” Kira hurriedly replied before heading for the door. She couldn’t stand lying to him. At least that would end tomorrow. Even if he hated her for it, at least the lying would finally end. “Everyone’s waiting, I better get out there.” Kira nodded in the direction of the kitchen window.
Luke followed her gaze to the spot where Dave, Emma’s silent but loveable boyfriend, and Miles, their geeky on-his-way-to-Harvard friend, stood next to her father around the grill. “Yeah,” Luke agreed and walked outside behind her.
“Happy birthday!” Everyone shouted when Kira stepped into the sunlight. It was a small party, but it was perfect. Kira smiled at the streamers hanging in the trees surrounding her backyard and the freshly painted sign wishing her a happy eighteenth birthday. Chinese lanterns hung from the porch railing, ready for the sun to set so they could sparkle in the darkness, and raspy strains of the local radio station struggled to be heard from an old boom box sitting on the table.
“Thank you!” Kira smiled and stepped lightly down the porch stairs, practically dancing with her movements.
“Now, Kira, we know you’re the chef in the family but tonight the men are making steaks,” her dad said while standing beside an already smoking grill. Even though Kira knew he was really just her uncle, not even related by blood, the familiar image of him behind their family grill made it seem like old times, before Kira had known anything about the conduits or her real parents. “Luke, did you grab the aprons?”
“Got ‘em, Mr. D!” Luke said, stepping past Kira to rush over to the grill.
Kira was more than happy to let the men do the work tonight. She loved cooking, but on her birthday she was allowed to relax. Especially since all she had been doing since she got home was make food—cooking was a serious stress reliever and all of the lying had her pulling her hair out. The Dawson family fridge was currently full to the brim with praline pecans, chocolate mousse, patience-trying risotto, and, one of Kira’s favorites, homemade spaghetti. Her fingers needed the night off.
Kira turned towards the foldout table her adoptive-mother had put up in the backyard. She was really her aunt, her birth father’s sister, but Kira tried to forget that sometimes. Especially on a day like today, with everyone around, Kira wanted to feel happy, not anxious about how much her life had changed in less than a year. She had gone from being a normal teenager to a mystical half-breed conduit who could potentially mean the end of the world. And the recent events at the Red Rose Ball had changed her again—she felt that in her bones even if she didn’t know what it meant yet.
A moment later Kira blinked, pushing old memories to the side to look back at the table where Emma was setting out the silverware and her mother was arranging a vase filled with fresh flowers. She stepped forward to help.
“Luke, you didn’t!” Kira’s mother gasped and put a hand to her mouth to cover her laughter. Kira stopped walking and turned just in time to see Luke finish tying an apron around his waist—the apron no one in her family ever used, the one her mother bought her father as a joke years ago, the one that had a life-sized photograph of Michelangelo’s David… in the nude.
“Luke,” Kira whined with a grimace, but the semblance of a smirk tugged at her lips.
“Just trying to get this party started,” Luke grinned. He reached for the raw steaks and
started dropping them on the grill.
Kira shook her head at him, but couldn’t shake the small curve of her smile.
She looked around for Tristan, noticing he wasn’t grill-side with the other men, and spotted him at the far side of the yard with Chloe. The two of them sat in the middle of a ring of Barbie toys and Tristan was pretending to listen intently to whatever Chloe was trying to explain about her dolls. He looked up, as if sensing Kira’s gaze, and flashed her a dimple-filled grin followed by a roll of his eyes.
“Should we go save him?” Kira’s mother whispered in her ear, but Kira shrugged.
“Let him suffer,” she laughed and out of the corner of her eye, she saw Tristan shake his head at her. He definitely overheard. Good, Kira thought, let him know I’m totally calling the shots. But her brief moment of power passed when a wad of napkins was shoved in her face.
“I’m going inside to work on the potato salad and coleslaw. Can you girls finish setting the table?”
“Sure, Mom,” Kira said and took the napkins from her mother’s arms before walking over to Emma.
“How is it possible that I’m wearing a dress and you’re not?” Kira asked, eyeing her blonde friend’s relaxed shorts and polo shirt attire.
“You’re allowed to out-dress me one day a year—consider it my gift to you.” Emma smiled and sat down in one of the vacant seats around the table. Kira sat next to her and dropped the napkins onto an empty plate.
“Want to learn how to fold these?” Kira asked. Years of working in a restaurant had taught her this nifty trick and she quickly folded the first napkin into a simple, yet elegant, pyramid. Kira spent a few minutes showing Emma the steps, but it became obvious that there was something on her friend’s mind.
“Is everything okay, Emma?”
“Of course,” she said, but Kira didn’t buy it.
“Really?” She pressed.
Blaze (Midnight Fire Series) Page 1
