Frost Fire (Tortured Elements) (18 page)

“Silas was emotionless,” Drake said. “He wasn’t a true person.”

“And the others? Don’t you feel at all guilty?”

Drake went silent. Then he let out a long breath. “I have more guilt than you could imagine, little Nox.”

He sounded so defeated. She’d never heard him sound like that. Even when he’d been in the Sentinel’s dungeon, and even when he’d been sure he was about to die, Drake had been strong.

She reached out and took his hand. It was easy enough to find, even with her eyes on the road and in the darkness. He sat close to her, and his hand was just inches from hers. Allai slipped her fingers between his.

Instantly, she felt small and vulnerable. She could feel the tendons in his fingers nervously tensing and constricting around her hand. Why was it she always forgot that he didn’t like being touched? And how strong he was? Even in his human form, he was practically crushing her bones. But she just took a deep breath and refused to show any pain.

And he relaxed. His hand stopped crushing hers, and he just let his fingers rest there, interlaced with hers. After a moment, he let out a small sigh.

“See?” Allai said. “Not so bad, is it?”

He didn’t reply. Or at least not verbally. But his index finger started tracing little patterns on the back of her hand, so lightly that she almost didn’t feel it.

Allai stopped breathing. For a moment, she thought she was panicking, but then she felt the fluttery feeling in her stomach. She wanted to laugh, because Drake wasn’t supposed to have that effect on her. But she didn’t laugh, because Drake’s gentle touch made her feel so secure, something she hadn’t felt in weeks. And she wasn’t about to ruin the moment.

Drake ended up being the one who broke the silence. “I’m still curious,” he said quietly. “How do you plan on getting us to Idaho?”

Not that question again. She didn’t want to think about their lack of food, clothes, money,
everything
. She just wanted to sit there, her hand in Drake’s, and soak up his quiet presence.

But she knew she had to answer. “We could… steal something?” she suggested. “And then sell it? That’d give us money.”

Drake scoffed, but it sounded much closer to a laugh this time. “Shieldak’s daughter, turning to a life of crime? I’m not going to let that happen, little Nox. That viper of yours would never let me live peacefully, if I did.”

She was about to agree with him, and ask just what
he
would suggest, when she heard him rustling around the glovebox with his free hand. A moment later, something landed in her lap. She took her eyes off the road long enough to glance down at it. A wallet. A very full wallet, with the edges of cash sticking out.

“I figured it’d be a long trip,” Drake said. “I didn’t plan on bringing you back to Idaho with me. But I knew the drive cross-country would take some cash.”

Her first reaction was annoyance. Drake had just been teasing her with his questions about how they’d get to Idaho. He already had the cash, and already knew they’d make it.

But then she realized he’d just admitted to something. That he’d ventured out to New York for something. Or maybe someone.

“What did you come to New York for?” she asked quietly.

He didn’t hesitate before answering. “For you, little Nox.”

She glanced over to him. Drake was still staring at her, but now he looked a little sheepish. His index finger continued tracing patterns across her hand, leaving hot trails of warmth across her skin. A small smile tugged at Drake’s lips, almost apologetic, but not quite.

“Why?” she asked, glancing at their entwined hands before looking back to the road.

“I’ve lived with the Chimeras for the past two years,” he said. “Ever since my fallout with Dad. Tanner, the leader of the Chimeras, took me in after that. He heard I was a Sano Mage, and accepted me into his organization.”

Drake paused, and Allai wondered where he was going with this. She was about to ask, when Drake continued.

“One of the Chimeras living at their headquarters sees the future. Her name’s Jada, and we… Well, we just don’t get along very well. Anyway, sometimes Jada also sees the future of people she’s distantly connected to. She came to me about two weeks ago and told me Silas was going to attack you. I guess she saw your future because you’re so closely connected to me.”

He pressed Allai’s hand a little tighter against his. “I couldn’t exactly call you up and warn you about Silas. Not to say I didn’t try. I’ve tried to contact you so many times over the years…” He trailed off and sighed. “So I ended up having to come here to save you. And I guess I was right on time.”

That was by far the most she’d ever heard him talk. She was almost more surprised by the length of his story than by the content. Almost. Because it was shocking to hear that after all those years, he still cared about her so much. She thought about what he always told her, how he always said he’d never let anyone hurt her. She looked down to hide a smile. Because he must not have considered that a short-term promise.

“So,” she said, more to herself than him. “It wasn’t coincidence? That you were there to save me, I mean.”

“Far from it.”

“But why, Drake? Why would you spend all that time and money to come save me? And risk your life?”

Drake’s index finger slowed, so the patterns he traced were more deliberate. “Because you’re all I have left.” His words were soft. Not desperate, not demanding or expecting. Just soft.

She didn’t know how to answer that. Silence settled over the truck, with only the rumbling engine to disturb it. Then Allai quietly said, “I’m not going to leave you, Drake.” She wasn’t really even sure if that was true. But it felt right to say.

“We’re getting close to Cleveland,” Drake said.

She smiled a little. Because of course she could count on him to dodge out of a sentimental moment. “Yeah,” she said. “We are. What do we do once we get there?”

He nodded to the wallet. “We buy supplies and get some gas. And then move on. It’s not safe to stop for the night.”

“No,” she said. “We should stop and get you some medical care. I don’t care what you say, Drake, you
need
it.”

“I’m almost better, little Nox.”

Allai laughed. It was just ridiculous for him to say that. She’d watched him get shredded, and still Drake insisted that he was okay.

She never would have laughed at that just a few days ago. But, right now, she felt a little dazed, and the remnants of the adrenaline were making her feel a little bubbly. Not like carbonation bubbles, that were all bouncy and energetic. But like those big laundry-detergent bubbles, that floated this way and that, meandering pointlessly, and then eventually popped into oblivion. That was how she felt: Like someone had just poked her life, and it’d popped.

Drake shot her a funny look, his eyebrow raising and his head tilting a little. Allai opened her mouth to apologize, but then just shook her head. She didn’t feel like explaining her little outburst.

Then she saw his chest. The lights on the dashboard illuminated it just a little, just enough so that she could vaguely see his injuries. He wasn’t wearing a shirt—she’d taken it off after the fight so she could apply the bandages—and the bandages only covered a portion of his ribs. The rest she expected to be covered in open gashes, like it had been earlier. It wasn’t. Instead of open wounds, there were only fresh pink scars.

He’d healed. In five hours.

“The road,” Drake said.

“Wha—”

“Watch the road, little Nox.”

She whipped her attention forward, and straightened the truck a bit. Drake scoffed, this time the sound closer to a chuckle, and then smoothed his thumb across the back of her hand. She got the message: He was laughing with her, not at her.

But she wasn’t laughing. She glanced at him in the corner of her eye and demanded, “How? How could you have healed that fast? It’s not possible.”

He shrugged, and his hand pulled from hers a little. She was surprised at the disappointment that rose up in her and pulled her lips into a frown. But then Drake stretched his fingers out and re-twined them through hers, pressing her hand closer to his. Relief replaced the disappointment, and her frown vanished.

“You’ve seen my blood,” Drake said. He sounded a little amused, and Allai guessed it wasn’t about the blood. He’d noticed her reaction.

She tried not to blush, and instead thought about what he’d said. His blood. It was so black; a deep, dark ebony. An unnatural color. A deadly one.

“Your family is really as powerful as they say,” she murmured.

Drake nodded. “More powerful than that.”

That should probably scare her. But it didn’t. Drake was finally in a relatively-good mood, and holding her hand, and he was sitting so close now. Somehow, it was a little comforting to hear him state how powerful he was. Because she knew he’d never use that power against her.

It seemed ridiculous that she’d feared him for two entire years. Two years wasted. Of course, it was partially Shieldak’s fault for convincing her that Drake had tried to kill her. But, mostly, she could only blame herself for not trusting in her memories of Drake. And that hurt.

“I need to make a call when we get to Cleveland,” Drake said, breaking into her thoughts.

He truly was a master of changing the topic. But she didn’t point that out, and instead just said, “Sure.”

“And you’ll have to lay low,” he continued. “Don’t draw any attention. Get the stuff you need, and then we’ll leave.”

She nodded. “Sounds good.” But it really didn’t sound
good.
It actually sounded scary, like some covert operation she hadn’t asked to be a part of.

Drake withdrew his hand from hers. This time he kept it away, and the disappointment came flooding back. She sighed without meaning to. Drake gave a slightly muffled scoff, like he was trying to hold back his amusement.

Then he moved closer. So close she could smell that earthy scent he had, like fresh rain and clover and any number of other forest things. There was another scent also clinging to him, something slightly smoky and minty. She recognized that as the scent of a Charger Demon, which was supposed to be just as alluring as their voices.

It was.

All he did was pluck his wallet from her lap. She waited for something more to happen, but that was it. For a moment, she felt like an idiot for expecting anything. What was ‘anything’, anyway? But then she realized that he could have just reached for the wallet; he never had to get that close, if he hadn’t wanted to.

Drake pulled a few bills from his wallet and placed them on top of the dashboard, right in front of her. “You can use this to buy stuff.”

His voice was a little overwhelming this close. It was huskier, now that he was in his human form, and the effect of it was intoxicating. It made her relax and want to just lean into him. The urge surprised her. After growing up hearing Chargers’ voices on a daily basis, she had thought she’d grown immune.

Allai struggled to focus. She tried to ignore his scent, his voice, his nearness; instead, she looked at the money in front of her. Her original doubts about the wallet popped back into her mind. She swallowed nervously, but decided to voice her question. “Is it, um,
safe
to use the money?”

“Safe?” He sounded genuinely confused, which was probably a good thing. But at the same time it wasn’t good, because his confusion made him sound all innocent and sweet. And that just made her want to lean in more.

“I mean…” She took a deep breath. “Where’d you get the money? Is it really okay to use it?”

Drake went quiet for a moment. He said nothing, and just silently stared out the window. Then he inched away from her. It was only an inch, but it felt like so much more. Drake’s expression turned stormy, and his hand that had held hers just moments ago balled into a fist.

“Where the hell do you think I got the money?” His tone was oddly composed. Definitely not calm, but at least composed. “I have a job, little Nox. I make an
honest living
. I don’t destroy people’s lives, or murder, and then call that my ‘career’. I’m not my dad. I’m not Rhaize.”

She swallowed hard. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed—”

“Don’t,” Drake said. He sighed and let his head fall back, so he was staring at the ceiling of the truck. “Just… Just don’t apologize, okay? You shouldn’t have to. I shouldn’t have snapped like that.”

Allai nodded, even though she didn’t really agree. Drake had every right to get pissed, because he was right: He wasn’t Rhaize.

“So.” She shifted uncomfortably. “Um… What kind of job do you have?”

He scoffed, although this time he sounded far from amused. “Small talk? Really? I save your ass twice in one day, and you repay me with small talk?”

“You know, you make conversation really difficult,” Allai muttered. ‘Difficult’ wasn’t really the right word. ‘Confusing’ was better. He seemed to ping-pong from content to flirty to angry in a matter of minutes. She wished he’d pick an emotion and just stick with it.

“Well, you’re not a whole lot better,” Drake said. “You didn’t say one word to me for the first two years I knew you.”

“
Job
,” Allai growled. “What’s your job?”

“I help run a bookstore.”

She tried to picture Drake with bifocals on, carefully dusting shelves of reference books. She got as far as the bifocals before she had to suppress laughter.

“What’s so funny?” Drake asked.

“You. Running a bookstore. Drake, you were born to be a bouncer, or a mobster, or something at least
mildly
violent. And you help run a bookstore?”

“Like I said, I’m not my father. And I like books.”

Both were perfectly acceptable reasons for him to take the job. But Allai still felt herself smirking at the thought of him working in such a mundane atmosphere. “What do you do all day?” she asked.

“Stock shelves, ring up customers, pretty much anything that needs to be done. Except customer service. I’ve just never been able to do the whole ‘service with a smile’ thing too well.”

That was a shame. More people should get to see Drake’s smile.