by Allie Burton
“I jumped.” Falcon ripped the curtain tie off and used it to wind the trumpet case to his back.
Possessiveness stole over me. “Mine.”
“Yes, it is.” He used his calm voice again. “I’m helping you carry it so we can escape.”
My gaze narrowed. Distrust filled my eyes with a black sheen. “What about my grandfather? You lied about trying to find him.” I swiped at the case.
Falcon jumped backward. “That’s why you left the warehouse?”
Dark clouds brewed and bubbled, rebuilding the storm in my mind. An angry storm. I jerked my head down as if tossing a jagged bolt of lightning.
“I am trying to find him. I had to help Math follow a lead on the trumpet of peace.”
“My grandfather’s more important.” Another angry bolt of lightning flashed in my brain. “Jeb said my grandfather was in the mansion.”
“Jeb lies. Your grandfather is not here.”
“How do you know?”
“We’ve had a guy watching the mansion for days.” Falcon’s expression seemed earnest. “I promise, Professor York is not in this house.”
My mind thundered. Truth or lie? “You promised if we had to trade the trumpet for my grandfather, you would.”
“I’m hoping it doesn’t come to that.” Falcon hopped on the window ledge. “Come on.”
My resistance to the evil force of the trumpet broke down. The desire, the urge, the addiction crawled inside and rooted me in place. I crossed my arms and leaned back. “No. I want to play the trumpet.”
“You will, but not here.” He stared out the window.
He had the trumpet. I had to follow. The trumpet tugged me forward. The only thing that mattered was the pain in my head and the pull in my heart. The pull to follow the trumpet.
I moved toward the window.
Falcon grabbed me around the waist and lifted me into his arms. “Ready to fly?”
Chapter Fifteen
Aria
Fly?
Imaginary wings fluttered inside my stomach. The tips scraped the lining, stirring the acid, stirring my fear. I glanced down at the brick patio. Falcon had to be kidding. We’d hit the hard ground and splatter across the bricks. Bones broken. Organs injured. Possible death.
The fluttering increased in velocity. Faster. Faster. Faster.
“Um, Falcon.” This didn’t seem the way to escape. “I don’t want to die.”
“You won’t die.” He held me tighter against him, afraid I might run.
Falcon was rescuing me again. How could I not trust him? I had to believe in someone. I couldn’t do this alone.
At least my fear had overcome my desire to play the trumpet. I caressed the case tied around Falcon’s back. Remembered his talk about powers. “You never mentioned flying powers.”
“We’re not actually flying.” Falcon’s teasing grin changed the flutters in my stomach to a slower, more sensual, speed. “We’re jumping and landing with style.”
“Jumping?” My tone rose to a soprano’s pitch.
“Our increased agility will help us land softly, on our feet. You’ll be fine.” He sounded so confident.
I wanted to believe. Believe in him. Believe in these powers. I needed to take a leap of faith with Falcon. Literally. Trust he could jump out a three-story window and land safely on the ground. Trust in him.
Staring at him, I wanted to watch his reaction. “Okay, let’s do this.” I smothered my fear.
His relaxed-relieved smile sent a thrill over my skin. His happy eyes softened and warmed, making me melt inside. Holding me close against his chest, I felt his muscles bunch. My hands clutched the black T-shirt he wore, brushing over the stiff and torn parts, digging my fingers into him, holding tight.
Falcon leapt out the window.
All fluttering and attraction and desire to play the trumpet ceased. My stomach dropped faster than my body. I forced a scream down not wanting to alert Jeb I was on my way out. And down. And possibly dead.
I squeezed my eyelids shut.
Wind whipped through my hair. Adrenaline charged through my veins.
We didn’t actually fly. It was more of a long jump, although it seemed like soaring.
I opened my eyes to see the ground rush toward us. My muscles tightened. I bit my lip, waiting to hit the ground. Hit hard. I was only sixteen. I didn’t want to die.
My parents’ smiling faces flashed in my mind. My grandfather’s welcoming expression. They cared for me. And so did Falcon. I had to trust him.
Falcon’s feet hit the patio with a soft thud.
I clung to him, my head buried against his chest, not believing it was over. That we’d lived.
“You okay?” The concern in his voice threaded with urgency.
We didn’t have time to savor our safety.
I leaned away and peered at his face. His hooded gaze showed caring and concern. His chiseled cheeks showed strength. His mouth bowed into a slight frown.
I didn’t want to worry him with my mad musings. My backbone became steel. “I’m okay.”
“Come on.” He let go of my body and took my hand, leading me to the eight-foot wall surrounding the backyard. “Here we go again. Ready?”
Shaking my head, my steel backbone collapsed. I hadn’t recovered from the first jump. I didn’t want to fly again.
“It’s a short hop.” He gathered me close again, lifting my feet slightly off the ground.
Inhaling a big breath, his eucalyptus scent soothed. I didn’t want to be a burden. We had to escape the mansion grounds.
He bent at the knees and jumped.
I didn’t have time to think or feel.
We leapt over the tall wall as if it were a short bush and landed on the other side.
I bent at my waist and collapsed on my knees. Air wheezed out of my lungs. This was too much to take in. Too much power. Too much weirdness.
Too much. Too much. Too much.
The old Aria would’ve fallen apart. One of the things that had drawn me to music was its pacifying influence. Its nonconfrontational actions. The only fear I’d felt was anxiety before taking the stage. I’d used the anxiety to enhance my performance.
This kidnapping and threats and running and…flying brought my fear to a new level. A level so high I must be numb. I analyzed my emotions. Or had I become stronger?
“Let’s go. We’ve got a bus to catch.” Falcon’s sharp tone showed his worry.
After flying out of a three-story window and hopping over an eight-foot wall, something as mundane as taking the bus seemed out of place. Not normal. A choked laugh struggled to get free. Maybe I was getting used to the danger.
“We’ve got to hurry.” He grabbed my hand and pulled me along.
Falcon wasn’t giving me time to laugh or time to rest or even time to think about this turn of events. Which might be best.
We ran around the mansion and into the street. The dim backlights of a bus could be seen about a block ahead. Too late for there to be much traffic on the street in this residential district.
“Come on.” He pulled harder, practically yanking my arm out of my socket.
“I can’t run this fast.” I heaved the words. Weird that my lungs didn’t burn and my muscles didn’t twinge.
“Yes, you can.” He squeezed my hand. “Use your powers.”
“Which powers?” I never learned specifically what I could do.
Even as I asked the question power pressured through my body. My heartbeat slowed while my actions quickened. My legs pumped faster. My lungs held more capacity. Strength and speed and agility streamed into my body.
The world around me crawled. Became sluggish, as if time lagged for everyone except me and Falcon.
Oh my God. Or should I say gods? As in Egyptian gods.
The bus was only a few feet away. It hadn’t stopped at a bus stop or a red light. The bus cruised at the speed limit. It was me who went faster. A whole lot faster.
A jolt of shock hit me, making my s
peed double. Wonderment widened my eyes, taking in the slow-motion scenery. I was astonished I could run this fast. I could keep up with Falcon. I could catch the bus.
I. Had. Powers.
“We’re going to jump on the bus.” Falcon spoke casually, like we were hopping on an open, slow-moving cable car.
But the bus wasn’t an open cable car. It was a city bus, with smooth surfaces and no open door or ledges to jump onto. No access.
“The door’s closed.”
“We’re not jumping in the bus. We’re jumping on the bus.”
Panic put the brakes on my speed. “On top of the bus?”
“Keep running.”
I picked up my pace again, relishing this new speed, enjoying these changes in my body.
The bus was about ten feet in front of us. Trees and houses and gates whizzed past. The black asphalt beneath my feet glimmered in the glow from the streetlights.
Falcon slowed to run beside me. “I can’t carry you and the trumpet, and run and jump. You have to do this yourself. You can do this yourself.”
“But—”
“There’s no time to freak out, Aria. We’ll hit a major street soon. Use your powers. All your powers.”
I stumbled. Glancing at the blurred scenery, I understood I was running faster than the average teenage girl. The power thrummed through my body when I played the trumpet. “What else can I do?”
“I’ll explain more later. Just know you can jump pretty darn high.” He ran faster to take the lead. “You can do this.”
I can do this.
How can I do this? The panicked question threw off my steps and I fell farther behind. I’d had no training or instruction. No knowledge of this power except for the few things Falcon had hinted at. In my frenzied brain, yellow warning lights flickered.
He must’ve sensed my anxiety because he glanced back. “Imagine yourself leaping into the air and landing on the roof of the bus.”
I could only picture myself falling flat on my face.
“You have to do this. It’s the quickest and easiest way to the warehouse.” His encouragement didn’t help.
The gleam from the painted bus flashed. Flashed my destruction. I saw the huge advertisement on the back of the bus with a smiling realtor’s face beaming at me. Laughing at me. Mocking me.
Falcon slowed, bunched at his knees, and leapt. He flew in the air toward the bus. He landed on the roof with barely a jolt to his body, only the jostling of the trumpet case strapped to his back.
Shock bolted through me. I kept running. Could I do that? The treads of the big bus wheels would leave an ugly mark on my body.
“Come on, Aria.” He believed in my magical abilities.
If Falcon believed in me, why shouldn’t I? Plus, he had the trumpet and the need to play pulsed through me in a conga beat.
I slowed and bent at the knees. I closed my eyes. And I jumped…
Jumped.
My feet left the ground. Cold air whooshed across my skin. I felt weightless.
Wonder whooshed in my body, making it lighter.
“Open your eyes!” Falcon yelled.
I jerked my eyes open. Saw the ground rushing beneath me from a distance of several yards in the air. Saw the back of the bus getting closer and closer and closer. Saw the backs of people’s heads sitting in the bus in exact detail.
“Higher!” Falcon’s tone rose.
I glimpsed the anxiety in his expression. He bent down with his arms out trying to catch me.
Terror scraped my skin. My chest shredded. I was going to miss.
My feet caught the top edge of the bus. I fell forward. My knees hit the metal roof with a thud. Falcon wrapped his arms around me, holding on tight.
I collapsed on top of the metal bus. Shaky breaths exploded from my lungs. My limbs trembled, weakened. But I was in one piece. I catalogued my body parts. Nothing bruised or broken.
“You did it.” He squeezed me tight as if he didn’t want to ever let go.
I did it. I let the words soak in, giving me strength.
I. Did. It! The words soared through my brain like I’d soared through the air. I’d run faster than a speeding bus, jumped higher than a bus, landed on top of a bus! Totally cool and unbelievable and freaking-me-out awesome.
“Check out the view.” He loosened his hold and got to his knees, balancing against the slippery roof and the wind.
I struggled to get up, shaking from the fear of the jump and the excitement of success. Getting to my knees, I let the wind whistle through my hair. The ocean waves roared in my ears. The beautifully landscaped mansions lined the road. The lighted skyscrapers of downtown sparkled in the distance.
Falcon braced his arm behind me, helping me stay steady. “New way to see the city.”
“It’s spectacular.” I shifted to observe him.
His other arm came around me. A glimmer lit his eyes. A glimmer of pride and attraction and desire.
An answering glimmer resounded inside me. My muscles froze before relaxing, relaxing into him.
He leaned toward me. His head angled. His eyes closed.
Anticipation tingled from one side of my body to the other. Inside and out. I closed my eyes. Pursed my lips.
When his mouth touched mine fireworks exploded inside of me. An initial spark and bam, my entire body rejoiced. Flames spread through my bloodstream, warming my skin and igniting my desire.
His hands grabbed my head, threading his fingers into my hair.
I wrapped my arms around his waist, trying to get even closer. My fingers came in contact with the trumpet case and I didn’t even care.
Not with his lips moving on mine. Caressing, biting, teasing. He opened his mouth and his tongue traced a line around my lips.
My mind swirled in a kaleidoscope of colors. My heart pummeled my ribs. If we weren’t holding on to each other so tight, I would’ve fallen off the bus.
Wind whipped by as the bus continued its forward path. I barely noticed.
Opening my mouth, I gave him access. His tongue delved in and touched the tip of mine. A jolt of electricity spiked down my spine, sending a frisson of currents over my skin. I shivered.
Our tongues intertwined similar to our arms, dancing an ancient dance. A dance possibly older than Falcon’s first life. The kiss electrified and calmed. Soothed and excited. Heightened my attraction to Falcon, and my desire.
The bus jerked to a stop.
Honnnnnnnk! The driver laid on the horn.
I fell into Falcon and we toppled back down onto the roof.
The honking sent alarms through my system.
A crowd had gathered on the street. They carried signs and torches. The group chanted something I didn’t understand.
Falcon braced with his elbows. “Lay flat so we’re not seen.”
I stayed on my stomach, his arm across my back, the trumpet case lying on top of him. My lips still tingled from his kiss. My thoughts still swirled with desire. My heart still pounded.
The bus inched through the angry mob and then picked up speed.
I’d been kissed before. Those few kisses had never felt so all-consuming, so undeniable, so perfect. Falcon’s touch ignited something in me I’d never experienced before. He touched me like no other. Was it pure attraction or did these powers have something to do with it?
“Tell me more about the powers I have.” What else could I do? Would it last forever or only around the time I played the trumpet?
“I’ll explain everything at the warehouse.” His voice sounded tense as he watched the activity in the street.
The mood changed, the closer we got to the center of the city. No longer a simple protest march. Groups of thugs joined together. They used bats to smash shop windows. Looting became an every block occurrence. People used torches to set garbage cans on fire. And buildings went up in flames. Sirens were a constant sound.
A mob surrounded the bus. They threw rocks at the vehicle, tried to pry open the door. A bat slammed into o
ne of the windows on the side and the glass shattered.
“Stay down.” Falcon covered my head with his arm.
My muscles tensed. “What’s happening?”
“San Francisco is in total riot mode.”
“Why? What happened?”
He turned to face me. His eyebrows arched, disbelieving the question I asked. Frowning, his expression grew serious, punching in my gut.
“You happened.”
“What?”
“You played the trumpet of war. A lot.”
One mention of the trumpet resuscitated the urge to play. Remembering how I’d played from the moment Jeb had set the trumpet by my mouth, caused my lips to tremble. I mushed them together, trying to control myself.
The bus crept forward, trying to disperse the crowds while not running over anyone. People banged on the sides of the bus.
“You playing for hours, caused fury to erupt in people all over the city. Every little quibble or gripe exploded into a fight.”
“That’s how you got injured.”
He jerked his head down. “The city is dangerous tonight. The warriors are out protecting for goodness and light.”
Fighting against the chaos I’d caused.
Squeezing my eyes tight, defeat set in my bones. This was my fault. All my fault. The guilt ate away my earlier euphoria about my powers and Falcon’s kiss leaving nothing except emptiness. How could I enjoy being with him when others were suffering?
The smell of smoke filled the air. I opened my eyes as we passed a building in flames.
My chest clogged, but not from the fire. From realization. My playing the trumpet had caused this destruction, this rioting, this anger in the people of the city.
Tut’s trumpet really did have magical powers. Powers so strong I couldn’t resist playing. My willpower had been demolished. My control gone.
Fear plunged in my belly, twisting and flicking like a conductor’s baton, pointing out my errors. A fear I wouldn’t be able to withstand the desire to play. Maybe I should give the trumpet to Falcon to lock in the safe. An angry darkness invaded. I didn’t want to part with the trumpet.
But could I control my own free will? Or would I be a slave to Tut’s trumpet forever?
