Souls of Fire (23 page)

Aaron, who had remained silent, patiently waiting for me to snap out of it and respond to what he had said, seemed to be done with waiting and was just about to say something, when I lifted my forefinger to my lips, indicating that I needed a moment.

I raised my hand and let it float above the left page ― the one that had remained blank.

Nothing happened.

I moved my hand closer and closer to the page, stopping each time to see if there was the slightest change. There was none. Finally, my skin and the thick, ancient-looking paper connected.

I had been hoping there would be some kind of response to my touch this time and was disappointed when ― once again ― nothing immediate happened.

After waiting for what seemed like a whole minute without anything happening, I let out a frustrated sigh and lifted my hand off the page.

“You try,” I addressed Aaron, unconvinced it would work but eager to try something else.

Aaron gave me a skeptical look, apparently just as convinced as I was that this could not be the answer, and lightly touched a finger to the upper corner of the page:

Nothing.

“But then, why did it just do that with the other page? I don’t get it,” I said impatiently and placed my finger next to Aaron’s, our hands touching. At exactly that moment the page came alive with movement, the same blood-red writing springing up on the no longer blank page.

Realization seemed to hit both of us at exactly the same moment, our eyes meeting and holding above our outstretched hands, our pulses racing, our breathing uneven.

“
We
triggered it,” Aaron brought our realization out into the open. Spoken aloud it sounded incredulous to me ― but it was true. We had somehow triggered the manifestation. Our united touch, skin against skin, ignited the book and enabled writing to spill forth.

“What does it say?” Aaron asked a while later after having taken a couple of deep breaths, obviously having succeeded in calming down again. He got up off the mattress and came around to sit next to me so that we could read the script together.

My eyes focused on the elegant cursive handwriting. The style looked old-fashioned.

On a dark night long ago, underneath a blood-red moon, was born a legacy, a foe, a darkness that arrives too soon.

The world will end in blazing fire, will turn to dust and blow away. Humanity will thus expire, condemned to watch, to hope and pray.

Charcoal black and red as blood, drawn like moths to the flame, desire rushing like a flood, sending fire through their veins.

Star-crossed lovers meant to die, born to a dark and twisted fate, taking down with them the sky; mankind’s outcry comes too late.

Cursed to live aside each other as they are consumed by lust; bound to one another until the earth is naught but dust.

Thus will come about the end, when the rose is in full bloom; lest another’s heart should mend, beware impending doom.

Darkness shall fall and cover earth with everlasting night. Say your goodbyes to friends and foes, to love and to the light.

I didn’t know what to make of it.

“It’s pretty cryptic,” I said to Aaron. “What do you think it means?”

“I don’t know,” Aaron replied, “none of it makes any sense to me.”

He was silent for several moments, evidently rereading the mysterious text.

“Actually,” Aaron amended carefully, “there’s one thing that makes a little sense … maybe.”

“Seriously?” I demanded, “what’s that?”

“The part about a rose in full bloom,” Aaron responded, “at least I think it might actually be referring to your birthmark, since there’s a rose on the cover of the book … and … because the book responded so strongly to you. That could be something to consider … couldn’t it?”

My heart plummeted at hearing Aaron’s words; he didn’t seem to realize the implication of what he had just said. If the section about the rose in full bloom was in any way connected to me, then I would be responsible for bringing about doom.

There was no other logical explanation. If the script related to the rose above my heart ― and the writing warned about this bloomed rose resulting in doom ― then whatever evil would befall the world must be my fault because I should somehow be able to control it or stop it from happening.

Of course I had absolutely no idea what it was that caused the rose to bloom, much less how to stop it. The only indication I had gotten so far, was that the rose had already started to change; two petals had opened.

The last time I had seen it, it had remained tightly shut. When Aaron had told me about it having stirred, I had been stumped to discover how different it looked.

And though I was certain that it must be changing because of Aaron, reacting to him in some unfathomable way as I myself reacted to him, I didn’t know if the occurrence was triggered by the things he did or said, or by his emotions or my own, or by … magic … of a darker nature ― or all of the above.

And because Aaron affected me, it meant he was just as responsible.

“What’s wrong?” Aaron asked, obviously having sensed my sudden distress.

“What you just said … don’t you realize?” I said in an unsteady voice.

“Realize what?” Aaron asked, nonplussed.

“You just said the writing must have something to do with me … with my rose.”

“Yeah … so?” Aaron enquired further.

“Read it again,” I demanded, throwing Aaron a significant look, and waiting for him to lower his gaze to the pages before him.

It took merely seconds for Aaron to catch on. Evidently he hadn’t given it proper consideration when first looking at it.

“Oh,” Aaron managed in a low, hushed voice. “So you’re saying that if it is about you, then you … and I … would be somehow … to blame … for whatever happens.”

“Yes,” I managed through a lump in my throat.

“Assuming, of course, that your doom and gloom ‘vision’ and this cryptic writing are to be taken seriously,” Aaron countered, clearly unconvinced.

“Assuming that, yes,” I responded. I wasn’t going to point out that he was, once again, acting closed-minded about the possibility of the danger being real. I was done trying to make up his mind about it for him.

Sooner or later he would understand. Sooner or later, the book would speak to him as it had spoken to me, I was sure of it. After all, it had shown me a vision. And it reacted not only to my touch but to his as well.

When the time was right, I guessed, the book would reveal a vision to Aaron as well. Until that time, there was nothing I could do to convince him. Before that, it was a useless effort; he didn’t want to be convinced.

“I’m exhausted,” I said, yawning widely while handing the gigantic volume to Aaron, who carefully closed it and put it back on the floor next to the mattress.

I turned onto my side, my back turned toward Aaron, and plumped down on the mattress, trying to relax into the warm snuggly furs and release some of my tension. Though the furs underneath me were warm and comfortable, my body still shivered where it was exposed to the chilly and moist air of the cave.

“Here,” I heard Aaron mutter behind my back. Lifting my head and turning slightly around to see what he was handing me, I could see that he was holding a large blanket.

“What are you going to use?” I asked, letting him know that I wasn’t going to snuggle up under the same blanket with him.

“I’ll be fine,” Aaron said, giving me a look that clearly stated that he hadn’t been about to suggest it, no matter what I might think.

“Good,” I retorted.

“Fine,” Aaron snapped back.

I settled back down and closed my eyes, hugging the blanket tightly to my body. Gradually the shivers stopped, and I got comfortably warm again.

Of course, by that time, I was uncomfortably aware of the fact that I wouldn’t be so snug if it weren’t for Aaron, who had handed me the blanket in the first place. I hadn’t thought about it lying at the end of the mattress and would have just lain there in the cold, freezing air until my teeth started chattering.

Sighing inwardly, I pushed myself up on my elbow and awkwardly turned around to face Aaron, who was sitting on the mattress with his legs pulled up to his body and his arms tightly around them, obviously trying to keep warm. The look he gave me seemed to be asking: what now?

“Err …,” I stammered, “why don’t you … get underneath the blanket?”

“Is this a trick question?” Aaron asked unbelievingly.

“No, it’s not. I just thought … I couldn’t stand the thought of you freezing to death while I’m all snug under the blanket. So, don’t make a huge thing out of it and just try to keep a little distance, okay?” I finished uncomfortably, hating the fact that I couldn’t just play it down and act blasé about the circumstances and his impending nearness under the cover.

Aaron didn’t answer. Instead, I could feel a slight draft of cold air as he lifted up the blanket and slid underneath it. I couldn’t discern his body; as I had asked of him, he was maintaining a distance.

Though I couldn’t see his position, I was sure he was facing my back, I could feel it. While our bodies weren’t touching, I sensed that he was very close, mere inches separating us.

I was wound incredibly tight, holding my breath, feeling the warm current of Aaron’s breath at the back of my neck, listening into the silence, acutely aware of the strangely deafening effect of the total lack of sound.

Aaron suddenly seemed to be holding his breath as well, and the silence became thicker and thicker. I thought I couldn’t bear one more moment of the sexually tense atmosphere between us.

Just as I was about to say something ― anything ― to break the silent spell, my already perked up ears suddenly picked up something other than what I had set out to hear.

Aaron seemed to have heard it as well. I could sense his body tensing. He quietly lifted himself up off the mattress into a sitting position, evidently getting ready for action. But for what kind of action, I didn’t want to contemplate.

We were in an underground cavern nobody ― else ― was supposed to know about. So, the only sound would derive from the two of us or from small, harmless critters that roamed the darkness around us.

Somehow the ready-for-action-pose Aaron was striking didn’t seem meant for fighting off critters. Which raised the question: what was Aaron getting ready to fight?

My heart sank into my boots. For some reason beyond me ― maybe from sheer exhaustion ― my mind hadn’t even considered the possibility of Professor Wright’s murderers actually finding this supposed refuge. Now, it looked as though they had.

The sounds were coming from the ladder. Unmistakably, the noises that were being made were the soft echoes of footsteps and the occasional slight creaking sound of the wooden rungs of the ladder under the pressure of the men’s weight.

Aaron’s apprehensive gaze met mine. He quickly and silently got to his feet and gestured for me to stand up as well, urgently holding his hand out to me.

In a frantic search for a way out or a place to hide, Aaron’s gaze swept the cave ― undoubtedly coming up empty. There was no sanctuary in the ‘refuge’. What had obviously been meant to be a place of safety had failed its purpose in the end.

It had become a trap.

Aaron’s initial urge to fight had visibly turned into a protective one in the blink of an eye. It seemed to have dawned on him that he would be in no position to defend me against a horde of violent men if he left my side to leap into combat.

Steering me to the back edge of the mattress, he positioned himself in front of me, pinning me between his powerfully built form and the wall of the cave, and faced the oncoming intruders, protecting my body with his ― my life with his.

I didn’t know what to think or how to feel. My mind was blank, my body felt numb. I had never been this frightened. What scared me the most, though, was not that my life may be forfeit by the end of the time it took the men to discover us; what scared me most was:

His
life could be.

From where I stood, I couldn’t see very much of what was going on. Not knowing what was heading our way was too unnerving for me to bear. I couldn’t just stand there sheltered behind Aaron’s body and not face whatever was coming for us.

Positioning my body in a way that allowed me to look out from behind Aaron’s back, I held my breath and took in the scene before us: ten incredibly hostile-looking men in black leathered uniforms stood across from us.

My very first thought was that they looked like members of a motorcycle gang. After looking at them more closely, I had to revise that thought. No one who took a closer look would mistake them for gang members.

They were … menacing … but in a different way; it was more subtle, yet all the more alarming because there was something about them ― something … off.

These men radiated power.

I could see it in the way they held themselves. But more importantly, I could feel it rippling off them in waves. It felt like the whole cave was suddenly charged with electricity. It surged all around us, quietly and stealthily encircling us.

I could see the muscles in Aaron’s biceps tense and looked down to see his hands clenched into tight fists.

What seemed to be the leader of the group stepped forward and addressed us:

“Where is the Grimoire?” he asked in a threatening voice.

“What is a Grimoire?” Aaron asked in return.

The man seemed to be evaluating Aaron’s question, trying to determine if he was being straight with him about not knowing the term.

“A Grimoire is a book of magic for various … purposes …,” the man explained. “If you have seen it, you will know it’s not a normal book, that’s all you really need to know.”

“Let her leave … and I’ll hand it over,” Aaron answered in a calm, persuasive voice.

One of the men came forth and whispered something in the leader’s ear. While they were distracted, I seized the moment.

“What are you doing?” I hissed quietly into Aaron’s ear. “We
need
that book,” I argued. “It could be the answer to all of this … madness. It’s invaluable.”

“Not if it costs you your life. I want you out of here
now
,” Aaron whispered back.

I couldn’t believe my ears. He was giving up the only lead, abandoning the only chance he had of getting to the bottom of what was happening to him … to both of us. He had finally found something that would bring him closer to the truth. And now he was throwing it all away … for me.

And that wasn’t all. He was confronted with ten extremely dangerous men who had already murdered one person, the professor, and he had to presume they would kill him as well, just for being there and seeing them.

He hadn’t asked for his life, only for mine. But if he thought I would just go and leave him there to be killed … I wouldn’t do it. I couldn’t just walk away from him … from whatever connection we had … or were supposed to have.

But that, of course, wasn’t the main reason. How could I leave him behind when … I had feelings for him? I would never be able to forgive myself.

“No!” I screamed.

“Excuse me?” the man asked in a threatening tone, “No ― what?”

“No … I won’t leave … and … no, we have no idea what you’re talking about. We don’t have your ‘whatever you call it’,” I answered in an almost steady voice while trying to wriggle out from behind Aaron’s back ― I might as well have tried to move a mountain, for all the good it was doing me.

“Well,” the man said, “you’ve got some nerve … especially considering the fact that I can see the book ― the one you ‘have no idea what I’m talking about’ quite clearly lying on the floor right next to you. What a coincidence. And now you’re going to tell me that you have no idea how it got there, right? Well, I think it would be wise ― in light of your situation ― to just bite your tongue.”

“And
what
situation might that be?” Aaron asked, obviously trying to get a handle on exactly how much trouble we were in, although I thought we were both pretty sure of how this would end.

“I’m not the one to decide,” the man said. “You will be taken to our leader.”

So, I thought, he wasn’t the leader after all but answered to someone else. This didn’t reassure me, though. Even if the decision to kill us had been postponed, I couldn’t see any alternative to ending up dead.

What other options did these men have but to get rid of the witnesses? After all, we had seen the professor’s dead body and could probably give a good account of what the men looked like.

That meant we posed a threat to them and whatever organization stood behind them. I was certain: there was no way we were going to get out of this alive.

It seemed I wasn’t the only one who thought along these lines. Judging by the way Aaron’s body was positioned, I could tell he was getting ready to fight them off.

When the man in charge signaled his men to take hold of the two of us, Aaron patiently waited for the first of them to approach. When they tried to grab us, he leapt forward swinging his fists and landed punches with such ferocity, that I was sure he would end up killing them all.

Aaron’s magnificent figure looked incredibly powerful, his muscles rippling throughout his body while he fought for our lives. I watched awestruck as he struck down half of the men.

I was beginning to hope that we could actually make it out of there alive by the sheer willpower and force behind Aaron’s attack, when a burst of light suddenly erupted.

The last thing I remembered was lying on the floor ― stunned by the force of the blast that had hit us ― and watching the cave getting darker … and darker … until there was only blackness.

Chapter 10
*
Haven

I
very slowly clawed my way back to consciousness. I could feel the cold gradually creeping over my body and seeping into my bones, could taste the earthy quality of the air on my tongue.

My body felt sluggish, my mind completely drained. I ordered my eyes to open, but the order seemed to have gotten lost in translation ― my eyelids felt as though they had been glued shut.

My tongue stuck to the roof of my dry mouth. I was so thirsty that my throat hurt like hell every time I swallowed.

I tried reaching out with my hands to get a picture of my surroundings; it took me several heartbeats to feel my hands. When I was finally able to sense them, I had a moment of blind panic when I realized that they had been bound behind my back. When I tried to move my legs, I found them constrained as well.

Had I been able to think back to what had happened shortly before I had blacked-out, my situation wouldn’t have come as such a shock. It was perfectly predictable that the men would shackle me to keep me from escaping.

But my brain hadn’t even processed the recent events. I strained to understand what had happened and had a nagging feeling that there was something very important I was supposed to remember.

As the minutes slowly ticked by, I suddenly started sensing another consciousness in my presence.

Aaron
― I thought wildly, everything suddenly rushing back to me.

“I’m here,” Aaron muttered, his words slightly slurred from exhaustion. It seemed he was suffering the same sluggishness I felt after having been struck down by whatever it was that had so unceremoniously brought us to our knees.

My initial feeling was profound relief. Although I had felt his presence, I had no way of knowing if he was otherwise okay. All I felt was that he was alive. But he could have been badly hurt by the men for all I knew.

It took me a moment to realize that there had been something weird about what he had said. It had almost sounded as if he had answered in response to having been called. But I was sure I hadn’t spoken aloud.

“Why did you just say ‘I’m here’?” I wanted to know, clearing my dry throat after hearing how coarse my voice sounded.

“What do you mean,” Aaron asked, “you just called out to me.”

“No, I didn’t,” I said.

Aaron hesitated a moment. “You didn’t say my name?” he asked carefully.

“No, I didn’t say your name,” I said. “But …,” I hesitated.

“… you thought it,” Aaron finished for me.

Silence fell around us. I said nothing ― there was no need. We both knew the answer to his question. Although, I thought, it hadn’t sounded like a question, had it? He had said it full of conviction, not doubting the strange connection we shared.

It seemed we had finally reached a point where there was no more room for doubt. After everything that had happened so far, we were getting accustomed to the strangeness.

“Where are you?” I asked, hoping that, unlike me, Aaron was able to open his eyes and move toward me. I needed his nearness, the reassuring warmth of another person.

“I’m right here,” Aaron answered, “can’t you see me?”

“No … my eyes won’t open,” I admitted reluctantly, hating to appear weak.

“What?” Aaron asked in a tight voice. From the noises I could make out, it sounded as if he was wriggling toward me, his body sliding over the cold earthen floor. He was probably bound as well.

“Are you okay?” Aaron asked from somewhere above me. I could feel the warmth of his body.

“I’m a bit out of it, I guess.”

“Yeah, me, too,” Aaron acknowledged.

“Where are we?” I wondered. “Are we still in the secret cave?”

“You mean the cave that didn’t turn out to be so secret after all?” Aaron asked.

“Yeah,” I responded, “that one.”

“No,” Aaron said, “we’re not in the cave anymore.”

“Okay,” I steeled myself, “where are we?”

“Wish I knew,” was all Aaron responded.

“Great,” I moaned. “So … what now?”

“We need to get out of here,” Aaron suggested.

“Ingenious,” I teased. “What do you suggest?”

“Well …,” Aaron started out.

“So … you haven’t got a plan,” I guessed.

“Hey, I just opened my eyes two seconds ago, and you immediately started asking questions. When do you suppose I had time to think about anything?” Aaron asked in an incredulous tone.

“Good point,” I conceded.

“We’re in some sort of … cell or something,” Aaron whispered.

“A cell?” I asked. It hadn’t occurred to me that we would be locked in a cell in addition to having been tied up. What was the point, I wondered, to lock us up if we were utterly unable to move anyway?

And the way I saw it, there was no chance in hell we were getting out of there. I couldn’t speak for Aaron, of course, but I was sure I was unable to untie myself. The bindings felt very tight, cutting into my aching, bruising skin every time I moved my wrists. And if I decided to try to make a run for it, all I would really be able to do was wriggle around on the floor … quite the getaway!

“Where on earth do they still have cells without proper floors,” I wondered outraged, “what … are we in the middle ages?”

“Let me get this straight,” Aaron asked ― by the tone of his voice, despite circumstances, he was trying very hard not to laugh ― “you’re outraged because the men that are holding us captive haven’t had the decency to lock us up in proper cells with concrete floors?”

“Exactly,” I huffed, knowing full well that I was behaving in a ridiculous manner. I was way too scared to be expected to behave rationally anyway. Anyone could see that, I thought.

“You do realize that the floor would feel a lot colder not to mention harder if it was made out of concrete, right?” Aaron countered, sounding way too amused for my taste.

I ignored him and gave opening my eyes one last try, concentrating hard on making my eyelids obey my command. Very slowly they started to open. But all I could see were the blurred outlines of Aaron and some of my surroundings.

It took me a while to get my eyes to focus properly. When I succeeded at long last, the sight I beheld was one I hadn’t expected.

Aaron was looking down at me with an expression I hadn’t seen on his face before ― and one I never would have believed he was capable of portraying.

His gaze seemed almost affectionate. There was warmth in his eyes and something tender in the way he was smiling down at me, obviously amused by my latest ridiculous outburst of outrage.

The moment he realized that I had regained focus and was looking straight at him, he reigned in his emotions, his features under tight control again. I could tell by the way Aaron suddenly lowered his eyes and hastily looked away that he was aware of having displayed affection.

“What …?” I asked before I could stop myself. And then, the rest of what I had been about to say got caught in my throat. What exactly had I been about to ask him? It was ludicrous, I reminded myself. So, he liked me … a bit. That meant nothing! I was reading way too much into a single glance.