Blaze (24 page)

“Plenty of time for that later,” Kira’s fake
mother spoke through her grin, looking at them with knowing
eyes.

As much as Kira didn’t want to look away,
she had to because she knew Tristan never would. And when she did,
the spell broke. He set her down on her feet and stepped away,
distant and cold once more. Kira ran her hands down the front of
her dress, smoothing out the wrinkles and trying to regain some
semblance of composure. As far as goodbyes went, it was a short
one, but it was all they would get.

“Sit back down,” the female vampire sighed
and pointed at the chair Kira had vacated only a few minutes
before. “You, out.” She shooed Tristan to the door with a tsk and
walked behind Kira.

“I leave the two of you alone for a few
minutes,” she shook her head, pulling Kira’s curls back into a tame
bun.

Kira sat quietly with her hands in her lap,
trying to play nervous while all she really felt was sad.

Kira was so distracted by the image of
Tristan walking away that she hardly noticed when high-heeled shoes
were slipped onto her feet. A slender hand pulled her up to a
standing position and led her out the door. Kira followed placidly
until they reached the top of the steps and her nose was blasted
with the scent of freshly cut flowers.

And then Kira finally took in the scene
around her. The steps were lined with flickering candles that
extended across the marble floor forming a pathway into the dining
room. At the threshold of the dining room, where reflections of
flames danced along the polished floor, a pool of red petals began.
Against the glowing light, the shadows between the flowers dipped
and swirled, seemingly alive. The floor danced, rippling almost
like warm blood.

As she made her descent, the rest of the
dining room came into view. Kira hardly recognized it. Rows of
candles circled the room, covering the plain white walls. Painted
white antlers still hung in the background, casting fingerlike
shadows. The large china cabinet had disappeared and the wooden
chairs had been removed. But the glossy black table was open, bare,
waiting to be covered by Kira’s body. It looked like an empty
furnace, glinting with fire but with nothing to roast.

Behind the table, Aldrich and Tristan stood
side by side, close enough to touch each other. Tristan’s arms were
crossed, his face emotionless, but his eyes warmed when they landed
on her.

Aldrich’s though—Aldrich’s glowed. His hands
were clasped behind his back in a stiff posture only combated by
the rigid line of his mouth. His body slackened almost
imperceptibly when Kira came into view, but his eyes were
unmistakable. The normally black holes lightened and his pupils
narrowed with hunger, making his eyes appear almost completely
white. When they slid from her face to her neck, Kira swallowed a
gulp.

The fear suddenly clenching her gut made
Kira think of Luke, of his warm smile and his laugh, of the way he
always made her feel safe and protected but also strong enough to
manage on her own. She saw his spirit in the fires set around the
room: the glint of his hair and the warmth of his laugh and the
heat in their kiss. Drawing on Luke, as well as the power gathering
in her heart, Kira felt ready.

Help was coming and she would manage just
fine until then.

When her thighs bumped the edge of the
table, Kira stopped and waited for further instructions. Until
Aldrich made his move, she would play by his rules.

“Kira,” Aldrich said happily, letting a wide
smile spread across his face. Somehow, it looked harsh rather than
natural. He unclasped his hands and spread them out, motioning to
the décor. “What do you think?”

“It’s beautiful.”

“Not too,” he shrugged, “over the top?”

“No, it’s perfect,” Kira said.

“Good, because I want everything to be
perfect. For you. For Tristan. For our new family.” He stuttered
over the words family, letting out a cough afterwards to cover up
the flub. “Excuse me,” he laughed, “my excitement is getting the
best of me.”

Yes it is, Kira thought, but what exactly
are you so excited about?

“I think we’re all excited,” Tristan said,
laughing with Aldrich and clapping him on the back like old chums.
Kira lifted the corner of her lip, a small movement thanking
Tristan for finally playing along.

“I know I am, so let’s get started,” Kira
said and looked around, waiting for instruction.

“Lana, dear?”

“Coming,” a polite voice echoed down the
hall. Kira turned. She hadn’t even noticed that the female vampire
had left the room.

A second later, she walked back in holding a
silver tray.

Once it was set on the table, Kira peered
down, curious. A sharp silver knife reflected her own blue eyes
back at her. They looked fierce, hot and almost like fire except
for the color.

Next to the knife was a pitcher of blood and
an empty wine glass waiting to be filled.

Kira’s throat went dry as the tension in her
body rose. “Can we go over the process one more time?” She asked.
Her eyes were still focused on the tray.

“I think we should just begin,” Aldrich said
and leaned his hands against the table, smoothing out the area in
front of him. Kira understood. His patience was at an end. There
would be no more delaying.

Kira turned around and placed her butt on
the table top, lifting the rest of her body. She fell back slowly,
sinking against the flat surface as though it really were her
deathbed. When her head touched back, Kira felt the folds of her
skirt swish over her legs. Aldrich used his mind to smooth them out
so her dress fell over the edges of the table, cascading into the
flower petals below. For a guy who didn’t seem to like color, there
sure was a lot of red in the room.

Kira stared up at the ceiling, waiting for
more instruction. She traced the candle glows with her eyes,
following circular lines as they intersected and maneuvered around
each other in an endless pattern broken only by the large black
chandelier swaying gently above her head. The iron looked heavy,
like it strained to escape the screws locking it in place.

A hand landed on her calf and her entire
body jolted. Kira lifted her head reflexively, only to meet
Tristan’s gaze. He was trying to calm her, to stay connected with
her as she ventured into the one part of the plan he couldn’t
partake in.

Further up, another hand touched her and
this time Kira focused on remaining calm as Aldrich’s cold fingers
latched around her wrist. They felt like ice cubes against her
rising temperature. Kira fought with her power, holding it tightly
with her mind to keep it in place. Her control was getting better,
but it still had limits.

Aldrich lifted her hand to his lips, placing
what Kira thought was supposed to be a reassuring kiss on her
palm.

“Are you ready?” He asked, squinting down at
her. From her place on the table he looked like a giant looming
overhead.

He flipped her wrist, tracing her vein with
the tip of his finger.

No. No. No. No. No.

Kira’s mind was racing. Her heart was
pumping and she knew all three vampires could hear it. She didn’t
care. It felt like bugs were crawling along her skin and she wanted
to run.

Her power coiled around her heart, extending
down her veins and searing her blood, making it boil. She clenched
her free wrist, keeping it contained—barely. It would be so easy to
let it go, to blast Aldrich against the wall and get away as fast
as she could without turning around. She could see it in her head,
see the flames bursting out, see the boils exploding along his
flesh, see the ash in the air as he fell dead.

But then she would never know.

She would never know what sort of evil she
was really capable of, because that’s what it had been about all
along. Aldrich’s big secret, Kira knew, had something to do with
her destiny of destruction—the one the conduits feared and the one
Aldrich longed for.

Taking a deep breath, Kira let her fire lay
like a blanket over her organs, circling her insides but not
escaping.

She met Tristan’s eyes and stayed there for
one prolonged moment before turning to Aldrich.

“I’m ready.”

She bit her lip and he bit her wrist. Fangs
sunk deep into her skin to catch the blood pumping free and quickly
out of her adrenaline-filled veins. Kira forced her mouth to stay
shut to keep from crying out at the pain.

Tristan’s hand tightened on her leg, keeping
her grounded and on the table when she wanted to breakaway at a
dead sprint. His fingers dug into her muscles as though he were
staying grounded through her as well, as if she was his anchor. His
eyes cut at Aldrich, harsh and angry, blazing a deep black Kira had
never seen before.

Aldrich, however, had his eyes closed.
Ecstasy played across his features as they softened and he gripped
her wrist even tighter.

And Kira’s power was screaming at her,
burning her since it had nothing else to scorch. Lava and not blood
was what Aldrich swallowed, lava that was melting her to the table,
that would kill her if she didn’t let it go. But she couldn’t let
it go, she had to hold on, to keep fighting for a minute, no a
second, just a moment longer.

Behind Kira, a soft cough sounded.

Remembering himself, Aldrich slipped his
fangs from her wrist and pulled a handkerchief from his pocket to
dab at the blood dripping down his chin. Her blood—brilliantly red
against his snowy face, brighter than all of the flowers around the
room.

It was silent.

All Kira could hear was the rapid beat of
her own heart as the seconds drew further on. It pumped in her ears
louder than a drum, shaking her entire body.

Next to her Aldrich flexed his wrist,
waiting. Her blood needed to course through his body, need to
transform to match his vampiric composition, his cell structure,
his evil.

No one moved. Tristan still gripped her leg.
He hadn’t even blinked.

And then a jingle sounded softly by her
feet. The knife, gleaming silver with an ornately decorated handle,
rose from the tray, slowly trailing over her body to settle over
Aldrich’s outstretched hand.

He let it rest, poised over his own wrist,
and looked down at Kira with white eyes. This is it, the moment
Aldrich had waited for, the moment Kira had needed to witness but
had also dreaded. He was not even trying to cover the smirk on his
face, the glint in his eyes reading only of success and power.

One breath.

Two breaths.

Three breaths.

The knife moved quickly, slashing a deep
gash and blood dripped from the wound, landing on Kira’s dress, her
arm, her hand.

Aldrich smashed his wrist down into the
wounds his fangs had created, and Kira felt it, felt the blood grip
her veins, pushing back into the holes in a completely unnatural
invasion. Sticky, like sap, it sunk into her, grasping for her
skin, her arteries. As it entered her bloodstream, Kira felt her
own blood change from the burning, fire-filled flames she was used
to. Her blood caught on, transforming with this intruder, sticking
to her insides and turning black like tar melting on the
street.

Frightened, Kira tried to pull away, but she
couldn’t move her fingers. Her arm seemed heavy, like a rock had
been placed above it, holding her down. When she lifted her head to
look at the spot, nothing was there. Aldrich had already retreated
and was closing his wound.

The blackness sunk deeper into her,
traveling up her shoulder, weeding its way into her neck and Kira’s
head banged against the table as her nerves fought and failed to
keep their strength.

Above her head, Aldrich started laughing a
high-pitched squeal.

“Oh Kira,” he whispered for her ears alone,
leaning down over her face, rubbing a finger down her cheek, “what
a fool you are.”

And try as she might, Kira couldn’t get her
mouth to move. Her lips were glued shut and her tongue felt as
though it weighed one hundred pounds. Her eyelids soon felt heavy
and blinking became too much of a burden.

And that’s when Kira started screaming. She
couldn’t make a sound but her soul ached, screeched against the
black tar turning her body to stone. And Kira released her fire,
let the flames go free, but they were weak against the dark cloud
spreading through her veins.

Kira focused on the only thing she could
think of, protecting her heart, her core, the place where the sun
never seemed too far away. She gathered her flames, letting them
grow and coat her heart, circling it like a shield.

And before she knew it the rest of her went
flat. She had no energy aside from the power boiling in her
center.

Her eyelids sunk lower. Past Aldrich’s face.
Down Tristan’s arm. Until her vision was nearly spent.

And the last thing Kira saw was a single
candle flickering just past her vision, holding on for dear
life.

And then even that was gone.

Chapter Fifteen

The sun.

All Kira could think about was the sun.

Somehow, against all odds, it managed to
shine brightly in a sea of black. It managed to break through the
darkness to survive.

Kira needed to be the sun. Her heart felt
like the sun—rock solid, burning, exploding into the blackness
around it.

But the dark coiling around her veins was
relentless, and it fed through the small cracks in her protection,
seeping through every gap, straining to break through her power
source.

Protection was all Kira could think about,
protecting herself from the darkness and repelling the evil
struggling to break her. Using only those powers, Kira focused all
of her energy on protecting her heart. She found every hole in her
defenses and bottled them shut, weaving fire like yarn, encasing
her entire being within those folds.