Blaze (Midnight Fire Series)

by Davis, Kaitlyn

More likely, Aldrich threw a fit when he first realized Kira wanted to wait to perform the ceremony tomorrow. Judging by the intimate scene Kira had witnessed before, Aldrich would have had no problems taking his frustrations out on the other vampire. But better that than the prisoners.

  “Well, I guess we’ll just be going to bed too then,” Kira said casually, probably overly so.

  “Actually,” Aldrich said as Kira felt an invisible tug on her shirt, holding her back from the step she had begun, “I was hoping I could speak with you for a moment.”

  “Of course,” Kira said smoothly, “we’re about to become family after all.” She turned to Tristan, wrapping her hand around his arm and leaning in for a quick kiss. “I’ll see you up there,” she said, ignoring how tense his muscles were. Tristan slipped free of her hold and stepped slowly up the stairs. He wouldn’t meet her gaze, but just kept on walking. Kira listened all the way until the quiet thud of his steps disappeared to her human ears.

  Aldrich led Kira into the living room down the hall and she sat down on the sofa across from him.

  “Things seem tense with Tristan,” Aldrich said. It was a statement, not a question, which meant Kira wasn’t playing her role well enough.

  “Just because of Luke.” She sighed. “He didn’t take it well,” Kira continued, hoping Aldrich believed she was talking about Luke, when really the image of Tristan retreating around the bend and leaving her was playing on repeat in her mind. “He felt so hurt and abandoned.”

  “I hope that hasn’t swayed you at all.”

  “No,” Kira said sternly, catching the menacing tone in Aldrich’s seemingly kind words. His hand on her knee tightened involuntarily. A minute movement for a vampire, but Kira felt an ounce of pain in the threat.

  “Good, because even a sliver of doubt might stop the turning tomorrow,” he leaned towards her, eyes narrowing as he searched her face for any sign of hesitancy, “and turning into a vampire is not a pleasant process.”

  Kira didn’t back down. The icicles in his eyes were probably mirrored by the fire in Kira’s as she responded, “I’m not afraid.” Of you, Kira added silently to herself.

  He leaned back, satisfied. “No, I did not think you would be. Unsure maybe, doubtful even, but not afraid.”

  “I think Tristan is more nervous than I am,” Kira said, hoping Aldrich would take the bait.

  “Ah yes, worried about your safety no doubt. I’ll speak with him tomorrow.” Hook, line and sinker—Kira thought and kept the grin off of her face. The plan was progressing perfectly.

  “I should probably go talk to him a little bit now,” Kira said and stood up. She could only handle Aldrich in small bursts before his superior attitude made him completely unbearable.

  “Have a good last night, Kira.” His wink curled her insides.

  Kira nodded, keeping her face controlled, and turned away from him, but not before a slow smile spread across his lips. He folded his hands, palms together, and brought both pointer fingers to his lips. His eyes glazed over, lightening with every second, and Kira decided to go as quickly as possible.

  When Kira reached the bedroom she shared with Tristan, the curtains were open and a sliver of moonlight dipped between them, creating a perfect pathway to the bed. Tristan lay there, facing away from Kira. She wondered if he was actually asleep or if his eyes were staring out the open window, wide and watery.

  Quietly, Kira inched around the room and changed into her pajamas. She stepped closer to her side of the large bed, wondering why the space there had never seemed as large as it did in that moment.

  Trying not to disturb Tristan, Kira pulled the covers back and slipped underneath. At first, she rolled to her side, looking at the silvery lines of the moon glistening against his dark hair.

  “Tristan?” Kira whispered, aching to reach across the bed and turn him towards her. His wide shoulders cast a shadow across the mattress that barely touched her outstretched arm, but it might be the only touch she would get from him that night.

  “Tristan?” Kira whispered again. Maybe he really was asleep. His body lifted and fell with heavy breaths.

  A dull throb started deep in her chest, pressing down on her heart until it felt like a weight was actually resting atop her body. The more Kira stared a foot across from her at the back of Tristan’s head, the wider the distance became. He stretched further away from her, shrinking back from the hand reaching out to touch him. A centimeter from the taut muscles in his back, Kira paused.

  If he needed peace, a reprieve from the ache in his own heart, it was the least she could give him.

  Reluctantly, Kira flipped over to her other side and fluffed her pillow. It wasn’t nearly as comfortable as the crook of Tristan’s arm, but for the night she could make do. What was really odd, Kira thought as she hugged the blanket closer, was how cold she was without Tristan’s body close to her. Despite the frost of his skin, Kira missed it. That chill was welcome, it cooled down the heat of her own body. But the chill she felt this night was bone deep, and Kira didn’t even think her fire would get rid of it.

  But just as Kira felt a shiver reverberate up her spine, the swish of skin on cotton warmed her heart. A cool arm encircled her waist, pulling her a foot across the bed and into the hard body that had always felt so soft to her. A tiny kiss, almost from a ghost, landed on her shoulder.

  Kira fought the urge to turn around and break the spell. One last night in each other’s arms wasn’t too much to ask, and the time for words had passed.

  Chapter Thirteen

  When Kira woke up the next morning, Tristan was already gone. She brought a hand to her shoulder, trying to trap the feel of the soft kiss she had fallen asleep to. But like everything else in her life it was too late, and with a sigh she rolled off the bed, landing silently on her feet.

  Dressing quickly, Kira made her way downstairs to the dining room where all three of the vampires awaited her. In her rush, she missed the timing and there were still three goblets of nearly emptied of blood on the table. Kira couldn’t help but notice the red tint to Tristan’s lips, the slight flush on his cheeks. Controlling her reaction, she sat down next to him, kissed his cheek and brought his hand into her lap.

  “Good morning, everyone,” Kira said after a moment.

  “Did you sleep well?” The woman asked.

  “It was the perfect last night,” Kira said, squeezing Tristan’s hand while she spoke and hoping he caught the real meaning of her words.

  “And morning,” Aldrich droned, “it’s past noon already.”

  “Really?” Kira asked, and her stomach rumbled loudly. She laughed under her breath. Finally, some perfect timing. “Seeing as I’m still human, I need some grub.”

  “I thought you might like to make it yourself,” Tristan told her. The idea sounded sweet, but the gesture was pre-planned—she needed a reason to be digging around the kitchen.

  Kira turned to Aldrich, raising her eyebrows as if asking for permission.

  “My house is your house,” Aldrich said, “besides, Tristan and I have things to discuss. Lana, my dear, why don’t you start preparing for the ceremony in the meantime.”

  The woman nodded, and Kira caught the worshiping look in her eyes. She was a slave and didn’t even realize it. The idea made Kira’s toes curl in her socks.

  But then Kira’s stomach growled loudly again, breaking the silence.

  “I’ll take that as my cue to go,” Kira jumped up from her seat. She kissed Tristan on the cheek, trying her best to maintain their soul mate status and ignore his rigid posture, before disappearing around the bend.

  Now the work really begins, Kira thought. She walked into the kitchen and used her phone to turn some music on. Then she lit the fire on the stovetop, ran some water and started pretending to ruffle the shelves, looking for ingredients. In the refrigerator, Kira found a secret stash of medical blood and stole two pints. Perfect for bribing Pavia.

  She quickly fried some eggs, put potatoes in the oven and sta
rted a pot of fresh oatmeal. Just in case any vampires were listening, it would sound like Kira was really in there cooking one heck of a last breakfast.

  In reality, she was taking one last deep breath and standing in front of the free-standing freezer. Steeling her nerves for whatever Pavia had to show her, Kira pressed the small button on the side of the handle and the door to the tunnels cracked silently open.

  Tristan said he could guarantee her an hour of alone time, and fifteen minutes of that had already passed. When Kira found herself completely shrouded in darkness, she lit a flame and hit the tunnels at a run. Along the way she spotted the female vampire in her room, laying out a deep red dress. But there was no sign of Tristan or Aldrich, and Kira just hoped they were in a soundproof room, oblivious to what she was doing.

  Five minutes later, Kira found herself panting at the entrance of the dungeon with five curious pairs of eyes pointed in her direction.

  “Didn’t think we’d see you back here again, after that oh-so-dramatic exit yesterday,” the female vampire, Pavia, drawled in a voice laced with sarcasm.

  Still breathing heavy, Kira panted, “I came to,” she stopped to breathe again, taking this as a reminder to exercise more often. “You’re all going to be free in a couple hours time.” Why not just get to the chase? Kira thought.

  “I’m starting to enjoy these little visits,” Pavia said with a smirk, while the male Punisher sat up and asked, “How can this be?”

  Kira chose to ignore Pavia and she faced the other prisoners instead. “Conduits are coming to save you all. They’ll be here in a few hours. I won’t be with them, but I promise that you can trust everyone and that they’ll keep you safe.”

  One of the Protector females started to speak, but Kira reached her hand out to stop her.

  “I’m sorry, I can’t explain anything else. I don’t have time.” She said, rushing her words and not caring that they lacked finesse. Then Kira turned to Pavia. “Yesterday, you said something about showing me some memories you knew I’d want to see. You know who my mother was, don’t you? You know something about Aldrich’s plan?”

  Pavia shrugged. Her face was inscrutable. “Did you bring anything with you?” She sniffed the air, letting a smirk lighten her features. No use hiding it, Kira thought and retrieved two bags of blood from the grocery bag she brought with her.

  “I’ll give you one now, and you’ll get the other one if you give me information that I can use.”

  “Deal,” Pavia agreed and then moved languidly towards the opening of her cell. Kira dropped the bag to the ground. Lightning fast it was cracked open and at Pavia’s mouth. Before Kira could blink, the blood vanished and the bag was drip dry. Pavia smacked her lips, satisfied, before turning to Kira with an open expression. “What do you want to see?”

  “Let’s start with your memories. You have met her, haven’t you?” Kira asked, trying not to let her voice sound too hopeful. Pavia nodded and stretched her hand out of her cell, waiting for Kira’s touch. For a second, Kira met her blue eyes and they almost seemed friendly, maybe even concerned or sorry.

  But then their fingers were touching and Kira was falling, her vision was receding, her senses disappearing, her mind swirling into mush…

  Kira opened her eyes, struggling against the cavity of pain in her stomach. She was hungry, so hungry. Her hands stretched forward, touching glass. She couldn’t get out. But then voices were echoing down the hall, getting closer. A sweet smell startled her—sugar and wine and strawberries—floating closer and closer. Only one thing could smell so sweet, so delectable, and then a blonde woman—bleeding, hurt, barely conscious but oh so lovely—was thrown into the room.

  “I want to know everything in her tiny little head,” a voice snapped. Kira’s attention was pulled from the woman and she focused on the hard black eyes of Aldrich. An instant hatred rose in her chest, a challenge. He rolled his eyes. “You are so predictable, Pavia. Must it be a fight every time?”

  She didn’t move.

  Aldrich leaned against the glass, fingers clenched to hold in his anger. His voice was tight and commanding. “You know I always win, so quit the games and maybe I’ll reward you with a taste.” She tried to keep her senses closed off, but the smell of fresh blood leaking from fresh wounds was too much to ignore. The scent, now buttery and baked, filled her mind, making her inch closer to the door of her tiny cell against her will. She was so hungry.

  And then her hand was reaching out, and memories flooded her body in quick flashes she couldn’t even process properly. A house with a white-picket fence. A smiling woman and stern man. Blonde children running around. A bright green square. A circle of older men talking to a crowd. A dark city. An attacking vampire. A red-headed man. Fire—consuming her, lighting her up. The man again, older, love written across his features. And then concern. And then a sense of fear. A small child with blonde and red curls dusting the top of her head. Flames sprouting from pudgy hands. A house in the middle of the woods. Secrets and fear. Finally a walk through a forest. A sudden attack. Teeth sinking into her skin. A baby’s cry, a man’s grunt of pain and then silence.

  Kira fell back against the floor, her mind buzzing with the images. Her nose buzzing with the scent.

  Deep ebony black eyes stared at her, breaking through the confusion.

  “Pavia, what did you see?” Aldrich asked, urgently.

  “A baby…” She said slowly. Trying to gain control over the memories flashing fast-forward in her head.

  “What baby?” His eyes were starting to lighten, turning from night to day in an instant. Speckles of blue that were almost white spotted the irises like falling snow. Uncontrolled excitement was evident on Aldrich’s face as he reached his hand under the barricade. “Show me,” he demanded, grabbing her hand.

  Before she had time to register it, the memories were flooding into Aldrich’s skin, sinking deeply into the crevices of his mind. She wanted to fight, wanted to deny him the thing he so clearly wanted to know, but his fingers dug like claws into her hand, and she was so hungry, she couldn’t fight it.

  Maniacal laughter pierced her senses and the door of her cell was flung open. “Your reward, Pavia,” Aldrich hissed and threw the blonde woman into her cell. The body landed a foot away from her, so tantalizingly close that she forgot escape was just a foot further away if she could move fast enough.

  But she hesitated, looking at the glistening red blood dripping on the floor next to her.

  And with a hiss, her moment was gone and the door was shut once more. Kira looked down at the sallow, sunken face of the woman before her. But she didn’t see a person, she saw a meal and her fangs ached for the feel of flesh. The body never even stirred as she sucked the last seconds of life from it…

  And the blackness took over Kira’s real vision again.

  “I only have one more memory of your mother,” Pavia’s voice distantly said. But before Kira could respond, swirls of colors flashed past her eyes like a spinning vortex, and she was falling once more. She blinked rapidly, trying to clear her vision, trying to bring the dancing hues together into an image…

  Kira felt metal wrap tightly around her neck and felt the gaping hole in the pit of her stomach ache to empty, the pain far worse than it had been before. Her vision was blurry, just barely broken out into separate colors.

  Moving her finger, feeling the scratch of dry veins, was excruciating, but still she tugged at the collar around her throat. A hand struck her cheek, whipping her head to the side and making her almost steady vision go haywire again.

  “Show her,” a harsh voice said, savage desire evident in the words. If her mouth weren’t sandpaper, she would have spit at the polished shoes she now saw below her.

  Another slap, another swimming sense of vision, another unfulfilled urge to dishonor the man standing before her. Finally the image pulled together and she recognized Aldrich looming above her. His fangs poked out and he hissed in her direction, angry. Despite the pain infiltrating her s
enses, a slight sense of happiness pulled through at the sight of his distress.

  “Let me,” a hesitant but soothing voice spoke from behind Aldrich. He shifted to the side, revealing a brown haired woman with pearly skin and classic English features.

  Aldrich growled, and the woman bent to her knees before Kira, taking his noise as a sign of ascent.

  “Pavia,” she cooed, bringing her hands to Kira’s cheeks. Her thumbs wiped away tears that Kira didn’t realize were there. “Pavia, it is almost over. All you need to do is show me, and I will let your hunger end. They don’t matter to you, they are not important, not as important as your life. Don’t you want to eat, don’t you want the taste of fresh blood on your tongue again?” The more the woman continued in her soft monotone voice, the more Kira fell under her spell. Dizzy with hunger and delirious with the dream of warm blood, the memories poured from her.

  As the images left her hands and met the woman’s skin, her features began to change. Her dark brown hair lightened, at first a shade or two, and then quickly the roots turned blonde, stretching out to the tips in a wave of yellow. Her nose shrank, the button tip elongated slightly and the crown narrowed, forcing two large eyes further apart from one another. Her cheekbones raised, turning a round face into a more angular one, until all of a sudden, Kira was staring into the face of her own mother. Except for the eyes—the eyes were still blue and untouched.

  “It is done?” Aldrich asked. The woman nodded, and Kira felt a kick break her spine as she cried out and fell to the floor…

  But suddenly it was the real dungeon floor that smacked against Kira’s cheek, and it was her own scream being ripped from her throat as reality came crashing back, wracking her body wave after wave after wave.

  “You killed her,” Kira said. Her cheek was still pressed against the cold stone floor. Her eyes weren’t moving, but from the peripheral she saw Pavia sink back from the front of her cell into a seated position.

  “Aldrich killed your mother, I just finished the job,” she said. Her tone was serious and quiet.