Flame Caller (25 page)

With a single crack of thunder, the
clouds released their burden over the island. The rain came down in
driving sheets, soaking Xander to the bone and leaving his tunic
and pants stuck to his skin. Sputtering away the rivulet of water
running over his mouth, he stood and looked over at the
grave.

“
Yup, it could always get
worse,” he nodded to the stones. “Message received,
Grandpa.”

With a sigh, he walked toward what
remained of his house.

Xander stepped through the hole in the
side of the building rather than using the wooden door, which
miraculously was still standing. Like so many other homes on the
island, flames had gutted his house. The table had burned to
cinders. The legs, weakened by the fire, had given way and the
whole debacle rested on the marbled floor.

He stepped over the wooden debris and
paused beside a cabinet that had once rested against the far wall.
It, like the table, had fallen in the fire and most of its hardwood
split from the heat. Bending over, Xander fingered the delicate
shards of glass that protruded from underneath the cabinet’s
wreckage. He recognized the pattern on the glass. It had once been
a delicate candleholder. Sammy had carried it in and a lit candle
to him not so long ago when he was mourning the loss of his
parents.

The stairs in the back of the house
were in a state of disrepair. He doubted they’d hold his weight but
that wasn’t really an issue. His feet left the ground with barely a
thought and he floated up the stairs, hovering an inch or two above
their surface as he moved.

The upstairs was in worse condition
than the downstairs. That which hadn’t been destroyed by the fire
had been ruined when the island crashed into the Gulf. The front of
the house had nearly sheered cleanly from the rest of the building.
His bedroom had a gaping hole where his far wall had once stood.
Xander remembered there being a desk and chair against that wall
once upon a time, but they must have been taken with the rest of
the wall in the crash. The chair’s mate still clung to the edge of
the room, teetering on the cusp of falling into the street
below.

Luckily for him, the cant of the
island allowed the rainwater to pour out of the house, rather than
pool and flood what little of his home remained.

Xander turned to his left and smiled
faintly. His bed was still intact and someone had retrieved the
backpack he had brought back with him from White Halls. It was
sitting on the edge of the bed, his only connection remaining with
the real world.

It wasn’t optimal living conditions to
be sure, but aside from now being a little drafty Xander was sure
he would make it work. He supposed he could have searched the
island for a house less decimated by the past day’s activities but
it seemed like far too much of an effort.

Stepping to the edge of the bed,
Xander sat his backpack upright and unzipped it. Sitting on the top
of the bag was one of Sammy’s shirts. It had probably wound up
there by mistake when they were grabbing their belongings from the
sorority house. He didn’t have to lift it from the bag to smell
Sammy’s perfume on the clothes. In fact, her scent seemed to seep
from the interior of the bag, a constant reminder of the woman he
loved and hated all at the same time.

He was getting ready to toss the bag
aside when he felt an unexpected gust of wind. Turning toward the
hole in the wall, he saw Patrick shake his red hair, spraying
droplets of water into the room. The Irishman looked up
apologetically when he saw Xander’s disapproving glare.

“
It’s really coming down
out there,” Patrick said.

“
If you came here to gloat
or to give me an I-told-you-so speech, just don’t. I… just don’t,
okay?”

Patrick took a step into the room,
dripping water onto the floor from his soaked clothes.

“
I didn’t come this far
through the pouring rain just to rub your face in everything that’s
happened,” he replied solemnly.

Xander sighed. “Then why are you
here?”

“
I just wanted to tell you
I’m sorry.” Before Xander could reply, Patrick shook his head. “Not
about the girl. I stand by everything I said about her. I’m sorry
about your grandfather. He was a really good man and I miss him
already.”

“
Thanks,” Xander replied
flatly and turned back to his backpack.

“
What are you going to do
now?” the Irishman asked.

“
I don’t know. I’m still
trying to figure it all out.”

“
You’re, uh, not planning
on going after Sammy, are you? We all support you but we’re none
too keen on bringing her back into the fold any time
soon.”

Xander spun angrily on his heel. “Is
that really why you stopped by? A halfhearted apology because my
grandpa died and a crappy segue into explaining all my poor life
decisions? Get out.”

Patrick raised his hands defensively
before floating off the ground and drifting toward the hole in the
wall.

“
Just think about what I
said,” the Irishman said as he prepared to emerge into the driving
rain.

Xander threw Sammy’s shirt at him,
though it fell well short of its intended target.

He growled in rage before turning back
to his backpack full of unpacked clothes and Sammy’s lingering
scent.

The car skidded to a stop and Sammy
was thrown painfully against the back half of the trunk. She
groaned as she tried to brace herself but the car quickly
accelerated again, causing her to roll uncontrollably once
more.

She grabbed a hold of one of the
trunk’s interior pockets for support but she knew it was meager at
best. The driver was careening from side to side on the road and it
was hard for her to keep her grip.

Her hands weren’t tied but that wasn’t
very surprising to her. Keeping her hands tied was at best a
stopgap measure, since she could easily burn through most materials
they’d use to keep her restrained. Being in the trunk, however,
meant that she wouldn’t be prone to use her fire abilities. Setting
fire to the trunk would do nothing to help her get free and would
be far more likely to result in her burning to death before she
managed a way to escape.

Sammy’s stomach was in knots and not
only because of the erratic swerving of the car. Without smelling
the burned flesh close to her body, she had known the evil hiss of
General Abraxas the second he had placed his hand over her mouth.
Panic had caused her to hesitate and the General had quickly burned
away the oxygen around her nose and mouth, causing her to pass out
in mere seconds. She was now the captive of one of the most
ruthless men she had ever met; a man she was certain she had killed
just a few days before.

More than just the General, however,
she had also seen the eye once again. She had no doubt that the eye
belonged to the Fire Elemental. The thought of being dragged before
that monster once again left her terrified.

A quick turn pulled her from her
revelry and threw her awkwardly against the side of the trunk. The
rough gravel road they had been on became suddenly smoother and the
cloud of dust that had been seeping through the edges of the trunk
dissipated as fresh air flooded in. Sammy was grateful for both
changes, though it only meant they were committed to the long drive
to California.

She tried to remain calm but every
time she stopped thinking about being taken before the Fire
Elemental, she thought about Xander and his obvious anger toward
her. Both situations left her heart aching and she had to stop and
wipe her eyes, smearing the dust that had settled on her
skin.

The car lurched again and she heard
the squeal of brakes just before being slammed further into the
trunk. The car slid to a halt and she groaned, both from the pain
and because she heard the driver’s side door opening. Footsteps
crunched on the gravel parking lot where they had stopped as they
approached the trunk.

Sammy steeled her nerves, ready to set
fire to whomever opened that latch. The trunk popped open quickly
and bright sunlight flooded into the dark interior. Sammy had to
squint until a long silhouette stepped in front of the glaring
sun.

“
Don’t try to be a hero,”
Abraxas demanded as he roughly grabbed a hold of Sammy’s wrist.
With a sturdy tug, he pulled her unceremoniously from the car and
let her fall roughly onto the large-stone gravel.

She could have set the General aflame
as she struggled to right herself but a look at what remained of
his face left her cowering in his presence. The flames from their
last encounter had melted his skin like wax, leaving it runny and
coalesced in abnormal spots on his face. His nose was barely
recognizable, save for the two lizard-like slits of his nostrils.
One eye was closed, though she couldn’t tell if the eye was missing
or merely covered by the pooled flesh. Part of his mouth was sealed
from where his lips had fused together. He was barely recognizable
as the barbaric man he had once been, aside from the pointed teeth
and tattoos that were still present on parts of his shaven
scalp.

“
What?” he hissed. “Are
you not happy to see me?”

Sammy clenched her teeth. “I liked the
look of you a lot better last time, when you were on fire and
running through the woods screaming like a girl.”

She spat in his face and caught a
backhand across her chin for her efforts. Her head rocked back and
she fell against the car. She refused to give him the satisfaction
of hearing her scream or cry, so she quickly locked eyes with
Abraxas. Sammy slowly opened and closed her mouth, flexing her jaw
to make sure it wasn’t broken.

“
Try it again, little
girl,” General Abraxas threatened, “and you’ll find setting me on
fire a much harder task.”

Sammy looked at the Fire Warrior and
noticed that his attire looked quite a bit different as well. His
cloak was gone, which had ignited so well for Sammy before. His
leather armor was sturdy and stained with a shiny substance she
didn’t recognize, though she could easily deduce that it was a
flame retardant. She knew she could always burn his skin but
probably not before he did the same to her. Something told her that
General Abraxas was probably more willing to be set on fire than
she was. She sighed an exasperated sigh.

“
I see you’ve realized the
futility of your situation,” Abraxas said with a wicked smile. “Now
get in the passenger’s seat. We have a long trip ahead of
us.”

Sammy narrowed her eyes at the man as
she weighed her options once more.

“
Unless you’d like to ride
the entire way to California in the trunk of the car,” the General
added.

A quick glance around her told Sammy
she was probably still in Louisiana. It would be an insanely long
way to ride in the trunk.

Begrudgingly, she walked around the
car and sat in the front passenger’s seat. When she looked behind
her, she noticed two other Fire Warriors sitting in the back seat
of the sedan. Her chances of escape dwindled as she realized
defeating three Fire Warriors and surviving would be nearly
impossible.

General Abraxas slid comfortably
behind the wheel and dropped the gearshift into drive. He stomped
on the gas pedal and stones flew from underneath the tires as they
sought purchase on the uneven ground. With a lurch, the car sped
from the shoulder where they had stopped and accelerated down the
highway.