The Fiery Heart (27 page)

I started to turn around, just as that third person came up behind me and clamped a hand over my mouth. That split second of anticipation was enough to trigger some instinctual Wolfe training. I kicked backward into Brent and had the satisfaction of hearing, “Oof!” His hand slipped on my mouth, giving me a chance at another Wolfe tactic: screaming for help.

Old Alchemist fears, bred into me since birth, reared up. Here it was, the evil we'd always been warned about: vampires coming after me in the night. Creatures of hell, intent on drinking my blood when I was alone and vulnerable. For a moment, fear and panic crippled me. Then, a strong voice inside me spoke up:
You are not vulnerable. You are not out of options. Now, RUN!
But when I tried to run away, I discovered that Lars had a surprisingly strong grip on me. Wesley appeared on my other side and attempted to help his friend in restraining me. “We have to get out of here,” gasped Brent.

“No,” said Wesley. “It's not too late. We can get her back to my place and make sure she doesn't remem—”

You are not vulnerable.

Magic stirred within me, surging out and upward to the tree above us. A limb, already heavy with snow, gave way easily to my power and came crashing down on Lars. It was enough to grant my freedom, and I broke away. Wesley stood between me and my building, so I ran the opposite direction, knowing I only had to stay away long enough for some patrolling guardian to come. Surely someone had heard me.

As it turned out, someone had heard me. Adrian emerged near the path I was running on, wielding a limb similar to the one I'd just summoned. I came to a halt as he put himself between me and the other three, who also slowed their pursuit.

“What are you doing?” demanded Wesley.

“Practicing my treejitsu skills. You've probably never heard of it, but believe me, it's enough to knock you on your ass and wipe that smug look off your face.”

A typical Adrian remark, even in a dire situation. Yet, despite his flippant tone, there was a hard look on his face that I rarely saw, a look that said even if there was an army standing in front of us, he would still defy them with a tree branch if they tried to lay a hand on me. Tension filled the air around us as our adversaries contemplated their next move. Even drunk and uncoordinated, they might still have an advantage if they decided to rush us with brute force. Adrian and I probably had enough collective Wolfe training—and his “treejitsu”—to fend them off, but it might still be an ugly altercation. I pulled more magic into me but restrained myself from using it yet. The falling limb might be written off as a natural phenomenon. A fireball wouldn't.

“I'm out of here,” said Lars, staggering to his feet. Without further delay, he turned and ran, leaving Wesley and Brent behind.

“Are you seriously threatening me with a branch?” exclaimed Brent. “Aren't you supposed to be some big, bad spirit user? Shouldn't you be making my head spin? God, I knew you'd changed, but I never expected this.”

“He hasn't changed,” said Wesley, getting his courage back. “Adrian Ivashkov doesn't get dirty. This is a bluff. Grab her.”

“Don't touch her,” said Adrian, as Brent took a step toward me. Some terrified part of me was screaming at me to use this chance to run, but there was no way I'd abandon Adrian.

“Come on, Adrian,” Wesley coaxed. “Put down your tree and come back with us. We'll let you have her first.”

Brent shot him a startled look. “We will?”

“He can use some hard-core spirit compulsion to make her forget everything later.” From the pleased tone in Wesley's voice, you'd think he'd just made some space-age discovery. “We won't need any drugs.”

“Oh, yeah.” Wonder filled Brent, and he moved toward me again. “Tastes so much better that way. Of course, she'll probably scream more, but after a while—ah!”

Adrian slammed the limb into Brent's head so quickly, I almost could've believed I'd imagined it. Brent keeling over and collapsing to the ground proved it was all very real.

“Looks like I made your head spin after all,” observed Adrian, standing menacingly over Brent.

Wesley looked like he might go join Lars but never got the chance. Shouts sounded nearby, and two guardians suddenly raced up to us. I recognized one of them: Mikhail Tanner, Sonya's husband. He looked back and forth between us all, a comic expression of shock on his face. “What's going on?” he exclaimed.

The guardians were efficient in their work, taking all of us (including Lars) to their headquarters and ferretting out the night's events. In the end, it was obvious that the threesome had made a drunken advance on me but had succeeded in nothing more. They were branded with the Moroi equivalent of disorderly conduct, which Mikhail—apologetically—explained would only result in jail time tonight and fines. A cold lump formed in my stomach each time I thought about what they'd wanted to do, and I thought they were getting off easy.

I was practically asleep on my feet when Adrian walked me out to the guardians' building's main entrance. We hovered near the door, clinging to the warmth before we headed outside.

“I'm sorry,” he told me. “I'm sorry for everything tonight.”

The encounter had barely lasted a minute, but that surge of panic and adrenaline had torn me open, spilling out the emotions I'd been so carefully trying to keep in check. The full force of my love for Adrian consumed me, and I nearly reached for him until I remembered there was a desk clerk across the room. He couldn't hear us, but he'd certainly be able to see us if I threw Adrian up against a wall and started kissing him.

“There's nothing to apologize for,” I said, looking straight into his eyes.

“I should've told you what I did to that girl.” A small frown crossed his face. “I shouldn't have done what I did.”

“It's not even in the same league as what those other guys do. And you weren't really yourself.”

He shook his head. “I was myself—getting that wasted. Maybe I wasn't in a rational frame of mind, but I chose to get that way. I'm responsible for that.”

“It's done. You're not the same person now as you were then. It could've been bad, yes, but you got lucky and had minimal consequences. Most importantly: You learned from it. That's more than can be said for those other guys.”

There was a tension crackling through Adrian's body, and I had a feeling he too was fighting the urge to grab hold of me. “I'm not a violent person, Sydney. Not at all. I'll make love over war any day. But I swear, if they'd hurt you—”

“They didn't,” I said firmly. I refused to let him know how scared I'd been because I was afraid he might go after them. “I'm fine. You came to the rescue.”

A smile played at his lips. “Something tells me you would've rescued yourself.” And like that, the smile vanished. “But spirit would've been a lot more effective than a branch.”

“Your treejitsu was very effective.” The clerk was typing away on a computer, and I dared to give Adrian's hand a small squeeze. “Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you tell me about the mood stabilizers?”

He took a moment to answer. “Because I couldn't have faced you if I failed. If I was too weak to stay on them. Even now, I don't know. After those guys and then what happened back at the palace—”

“Stop,” I interrupted. “You're doing the right thing. And what's crazy is that you have no idea how strong and how brave you are. I'm so proud of you, and I'm going to help you through this. I love you so much.”

Loving him wasn't a surprise. What was, however, was the realization that ultimately, that was all that mattered between us. I'd been trying to figure out what it was that was holding me back from sex. It wasn't Jill. It wasn't some physical threshold I was afraid to cross. There was nothing, nothing except an anxiety my love had banished to the winds. And standing there, in that improbable location, the full force of how much I wanted him nearly knocked me over. A desire that was as much spiritual as physical burned through me, and I suddenly felt as though there was no way I could go a moment longer without having all of him.

“Come on,” I said in a low voice. “Come back to my room.”

A fire in his eyes told me there was no need to spell things out. “You're exhausted.”

“Says who?”

A voice shattered the spell weaving itself around us. “Ah, you're still here,” exclaimed Mikhail, hurrying into the room. “Good. I hate to detain you further, but this stuff spreads, and the queen heard about what happened. She wants to talk to you, Adrian.” He gave me a kind look. “But you're off the hook. I'll walk you back so you can get some rest.”

I swallowed, momentarily unable to focus on anything except the electricity flaring between Adrian and me. I wanted to tell Mikhail to leave us alone because I needed to taste Adrian's lips and run my hands over his skin. Instead, I said, “Thanks. That's nice of you.”

Adrian gave me a rueful smile. “We'll continue this conversation another time. When you're wide awake.”

“I'll be awake when you finish talking to the queen,” I told him. I didn't trust myself to add anymore, but as Mikhail led me away, I gave Adrian a parting look that told him all the things I wanted to “talk” about.

I
WAS THIS CLOSE TO IGNORING MY QUEEN
and marching straight back to Sydney's room. I'd read Sydney as clearly as if her aura had lit up in front of me. I knew what she wanted, and dear God, did I want it to.

But Mikhail's stern face was kind of a buzzkill, and no matter how friendly we were, I was still Lissa's subject. So I practically sprinted back to the palace, eager to give her a report and then run back to Sydney's arms.

Unfortunately, Lissa had other plans.

“You're leaving,” she said as soon as I walked in. Christian stood beside her, arms crossed over his chest, looking furious. “I heard what happened. The Alchemists will flip out when she reports back, and we're going to do damage control now by getting her out of here as soon as possible—which means you and Neil have to go too.”

“Don't worry,” said Christian. “I'll finish what you started with those guys tomorrow.”

“Christian,” groaned Lissa, remarkably similar to how Sydney said my name when she was exasperated.

He threw up his hands. “What? Those guys deserve a hell of a lot more than they're getting, and you know it, Liss.”

“I know that we have laws,” she said patiently. “And I have to uphold them.”

Christian said nothing, but our eyes met in a brief moment of solidarity. He might not know that I'd been driven by romantic feelings to defend Sydney, but I knew he was driven to fight against those who bullied others. He and I still had a lot to sort out between us, but just then, I took comfort in knowing Wesley and his asshole friends might find their clothing a little singed tomorrow.

“We got you a morning flight in Philly,” Lissa continued. “If you guys leave now, you'll make it.”

All thoughts of fiery retribution vanished. Leave now? And abandon the privacy of Sydney's room and a rare night together? I wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. Sydney and I were so close! So close to finally making that leap in our relationship. And there was no point of logic I could argue because what Lissa was suggesting was absolutely correct for an Alchemist in this situation—had Sydney been any other Alchemist.

“Neil won't want to leave Olive,” I said lamely.

“Neil's the least important piece in this right now,” said Lissa firmly. “Besides, he's with Sonya. She's monitoring him for side effects.”

And so, within an hour, we were on the road. Sydney drove again, and this time, I got to ride shotgun. Every once in a while, I'd dare a covert touch to her leg or arm when I thought Neil wasn't looking. It'd make her smile, though she always kept her eyes on the road. I enjoyed those smiles, though none of us was thrilled about the abrupt departure. Neil truly hadn't wanted to leave Olive. And Sydney and I hadn't want to leave our sanctuary.

“It's darker than I'd expect,” she remarked at one point. We'd left in evening, but heavy clouds had brought the night early.

“What'd the weather report say?” I asked. There'd only been light flurries at Court, but snow was steadily increasing the further we drove.

“I don't know,” she admitted. “I forgot to check.”

I put my hand to my heart in mock horror. All joking aside, it was pretty out of character for her. “Sydney Sage not prepared? What is this world coming to?”

She smiled again. “I wasn't the one who made these travel plans.”

“Good thing you've got me as a sidekick.” I took out my phone and felt my levity fade when I checked my weather app. “Shit. Blizzard warning for the mountains.”

“What? Why didn't anyone tell us?” she exclaimed.

“They probably didn't check either. Whoever booked the flight probably just made sure it was on time. I bet Philadelphia's not getting this mess.”

Sydney's face grew grave, and for the first time, I truly paid attention to the conditions we were in. I could barely see the road through the thick curtain of white coming down. She sighed. “One hour into a nearly three-hour drive. Maybe we should turn around and wait this out. Any idea which direction the storm's going?”

“Court's at a lower elevation,” said Neil from the backseat. He probably wanted to get back to Olive. “Less snow and less twisty roads—”

Maybe it was ice on the road; maybe it was just all the snow. Maybe she was more tired than I'd thought. Whatever it was, she took a turn on the winding mountain road, and the car's tires caught and slid, spinning us off toward the side. She screamed, and I just barely processed the pine tree before the car slammed into it and the air bags blocked my vision.

Time stopped having meaning. It seemed like both an eternity and a heartbeat before I was cognizant of my surroundings again.

It was my nightmare coming to life.

And in those seconds after the air bags deflated, when everything was still, all I could think was,
Sydney is dead, and there's nothing I can do
.

I turned to her, my heart beating out of my chest, and saw her trying to unfasten the seat belt. “Thank God,” I breathed, reaching out to catch her hand. She squeezed mine, strong and confident. Remembering Neil, I was about to check on him when I heard him stirring in the back.

“Everyone okay?” he asked.

“Fine, I think,” Sydney said. “Maybe a little whiplash. Can't say the same for the car.”

We got out to survey the damage. My legs felt weak, but it was mostly from the shock of what had just happened. I could see similar feelings on their faces, but thankfully, that was the worst of it. No real injuries. The car had hit a pine tree, crushing the front, but obviously not severely enough to crush us as well. I didn't spend a lot of time thinking about higher powers, but if one had had a hand in this, I was grateful.

Neil knelt down to look at the smashed fender. “Could've been a lot worse. Whatever you did, you minimized it.”

“You just have to turn into the slide,” said Sydney, like the driving prodigy she was. “No brakes.”

“And no signal,” I said, looking at my phone. “I just lost mine.”

She took out hers. “I've got one.” Of course she did. Alchemist phones were probably wired into some high-tech antenna on the moon. Not that we had any view of that tonight. It was all darkness and snow out here—and bitter cold. Even in my heavier coat, the cold seeped into my bones as I waited for her to call for help.

She grimaced when she disconnected. “There's a tow truck coming, but it may take at least an hour.”

“Then let's get back in,” I said.

We did, only to discover the car wouldn't start. The best we could do was hope enough warmth from earlier would linger inside. I wanted to draw Sydney into my arms, but we kept a respectful distance in the front seat. Nonetheless, out of Neil's sight, she rested her hand on my leg.

Time wore on, and the car grew colder and colder. Sydney huddled in her parka, and I could hear Neil rubbing his hands together in the backseat. I was on the verge of saying to hell with propriety and cuddling with Sydney—maybe even Neil too—when she put her hand on the door's handle and said, “Enough.”

To my astonishment, she walked over to the side of road, vanishing in that curtain of snow. As one, Neil and I scurried out after her. “Sydney?” I called.

We found her kneeling on a flat patch of ground that was already covered in almost a foot of snow. I was about to ask what she was doing when fire suddenly flared from her fingertips. An orb of flame soon appeared between both of her hands, about the size of a beach ball. Carefully, as though she were holding fine china, she set it down on the ground where it impossibly blazed against the snow. After studying it a few moments longer, she slowly removed her hands and rested them on her knees.

I caught my breath. I'd seen her perform this fire spell a number of times, but the progress she'd made had grown by leaps and bounds. Jackie had originally taught the fireball to her as a weapon, meant to be thrown, and had said that sustaining it in one place consumed energy. Sydney, however, seemed perfectly at ease. It was Neil whose eyes were enormous in the flickering light.

“How did you do that?” he exclaimed.

“Don't,” she said, not looking at him. “Don't talk.” There was a command in her voice that got through to him, and wordlessly, he joined her on the ground to take in the fire's warmth. We sat like that for a long time, until headlights gleamed through the snow. Sydney let the fire burn until the headlights came to a halt, and then she quickly extinguished it and walked to the road.

A tow truck had pulled up to the side, and the driver stepped out, peering in the direction we'd come from. “What was that light?” he asked.

“We had a flare,” Sydney said.

The car hadn't gone into a ditch and took only a little finagling to hook up to his tow. We helped the driver as best we could and then crowded into the truck's cab.

“No clue how long this'll take,” he told us, slowly pulling back to the road. “I have a feeling it's going to be a rough night. There's a place you can stay a few miles from here, and then I'll take this back to our shop, which is a little past that. We'll figure out the details in the morning.”

A few miles took a long time when driving at twenty, but at last, we could make out the lights of a small building. He took the exit and pulled up in front of a cozy establishment whose sign read
POCONOS VALLEY BED AND BREAKFAST
. Sydney exchanged info with the driver, and we all thanked him for coming to the rescue. He pulled away, off to save other stranded drivers.

Inside, an older woman looked up in surprise from a desk as we entered. “My goodness,” she said, getting to her feet. “I didn't expect to see anyone tonight.”

“We didn't expect to be here,” I told her. “Our car went off the road a few miles back.”

“You poor things. Well, we're pretty empty tonight, so there's no problem staying here.”

There was a kind grandmotherly air to her that made me think she would've let us stay for free, but her eyes certainly lit up as Sydney took out a credit card. I glanced around as they filled out the paperwork, taking in the scene. Sydney and I had recently done some investigating at a bed and breakfast that had redefined tacky. This place was its opposite, and though it was certainly rocking the antique look, everything was ornate and well decorated, showing off art in a way that wasn't cluttered.

The innkeeper handed over three keys and gave us a brief tour of the main floor, showing us where we'd eat breakfast in the morning and where she kept snacks for guests. When we finally headed upstairs, I drew Neil back and let the women go on.

“Listen to me,” I said quietly. “Sydney may have just saved you from losing a finger from frostbite. If you really live by the code of honor you claim, you will not breathe a single word about what you saw. If you do, you will ruin her life, which would be a shitty thing to do, seeing as you owe her yours. Do we understand each other?”

Neil met my eyes for several heavy moments. “Perfectly.”

I wouldn't have minded being able to use a little compulsion to ensure his silence, but there was something in that steady gaze that made me believe him.

Upstairs, I wanted to go to Sydney but decided to settle into my own room first. We'd retrieved our luggage before the driver left, and I tossed my suitcase heedlessly into a corner. Like the rest of the inn, the room was well done. The bed was canopied, and there were fresh flowers in vases. I ran my fingers over the soft petals of the blue hydrangeas, amazed that the innkeeper had gone that extra mile when she hadn't even expected guests. In the bathroom, I found a large marble tub and equally impressive glass shower. Suddenly feeling grimy from the road, I took off my clothes and turned the water on high. It scalded my skin but felt wonderful after that searing cold.

When I got out, I heard the Love Phone ring with a text message. I hurried to it.
Did you get it?
asked Sydney.

Get what?

Look under your door.

I did and found that a room key had been slid inside. Not even bothering to respond to her, I quickly dressed and headed out into the hall, turning toward the room number on the key. I nearly knocked but then decided I must have an open invitation and unlocked the door.

I stepped inside, shutting the door behind me, and found the room was even nicer than mine. Most of the lights were off, and a blazing fire crackled in the wood-burning fireplace. Sydney sat on the bed and rose as I approached.

And she was naked.

I came to a halt, the key slipping from my hand to clang on the wood floor. My heart stopped for a few seconds and then beat faster than it ever had in my life.

“Come here,” she said in a voice that offered no arguments.

My feet moved me forward, but all I could see was her. No skill of mine, no artist anywhere, could've immortalized how gorgeous she was. It was impossible to believe she'd ever had any doubts about her body. The firelight shone on her skin, golden and perfect, making her look like some radiant goddess of legend. I wanted to kneel before her and offer eternal obedience.