Kiss of Fire (15 page)

My vision kept threatening to fade out again, but I fought it, desperate to see what was going on around me. The sweet-and-sour smell of garbage filled my nostrils and gave me something else to focus on in the effort to stay conscious.

The steady sound of footsteps on crunching gravel filled the alley, the thudding of heavy feet running along the broken surface of the asphalt vibrating in my head. I listened as the steps got louder, the angry voices that accompanied them becoming real. My head swam with sound and the vibration that I could not ignore; the agony within my head swelling with the new pain. My vision, and now my hearing, continued to fade as I fought against the blackness that was trying so hard to take me.

“He is going to pay for this!”

“…already is, mostly dead anyway…”

“If only… dead… get his car…”

Their voices faded in and out so fast, I could barely make out what the angry men were saying. I watched as two pair of shoes ran past the dumpster, the vibrations beginning to lessen as they moved away from me. My heart relaxed a bit at their departure.

Although they hadn’t found me, I was still dying behind a dumpster.

I lay amongst the garbage for who knows how long, my body unable to move, my vision and hearing blacking in and out frequently. I knew I only had a matter of minutes left; I could feel everything giving out in an undeniable finality.

Suddenly, the weight on my feet lifted and I heard a sigh of relief behind me. I couldn’t turn to see who it was, but I felt my insides tighten in stress and fear.

The dumpster that lay beside me moved to the other side of the alley, the heavy box making very little noise. I heard the soft crunching of feet move closer to me before carefully torn jeans kneeled down in front of me and a soft hand came to rest on my cheek. My vision gave way as I felt the person’s warm hands move underneath my limp body and lift me to a hard chest.

“Don’t worry, Silnỳ,” a heavily accented voice said. “I’ve got you.”

Ilyan had found me.

I could have sworn I was flying. I could feel the wind whip through my hair, the calm sensation of rising and falling evident as we moved. I could very well have been running, although being held while someone else ran tended to be a jostling experience. What I felt now was smooth and calming, like a gentle rocking.

The wind on my hair ceased as the rocking motion stopped and I felt a subtle drop as Ilyan sat down, lowering me onto his lap. I could feel the slight pressure of his folded legs under my body as he laid me against them. I felt as if my body had been attached to someone else’s, and I was only getting brief explanations of what I should be feeling.

“Come back to me now, Silnỳ,” Ilyan crooned, his hand smoothing my hair. “I need you to see me.”

Although I knew my eyes were open, I still wasn’t seeing anything. My vision had blacked out shortly after Ilyan had found me, followed by my consciousness. I had come back to myself only moments before, but my vision still hadn’t returned.

Ilyan moved my head gently, placing it in a more comfortable position against his leg, so that I could see him, I assumed. Still, the blackness consumed me. My body continued its attempt to drag me into death, but I didn’t take notice of its attempts, thanks to the overwhelming numbness I felt. Perhaps, if I hadn’t had the dull wash of pain to focus on, I would have gladly let it take me. I heard Ilyan exhale as he ran his fingers down my neck, tracing the silver chain of my necklace.

“Joclyn,” Ilyan whispered reverently. “I need you to focus on my hand. Focus on my hand against your cheek. We have to do something, and it is really going to hurt.”

Hurt? How could anything hurt? I felt so numb.

“Brother,” he said, and for one fleeting second I was terrified that someone else had found me, but Ilyan’s voice was smooth and calm. Who else was here?

“Brother,” he repeated, “I have her now; I need you to release her.” He paused as if waiting for a response, but none came.

“Listen to me, please,” Ilyan pleaded. “I cannot save her if you don’t let her go. I will protect her and keep her safe. But please, let her go. Let me save her life and give you the opportunity to save yours.” Still he waited, but nothing happened; no one responded to his pleas.

“She is dying, as are you. You must trust me.” 

I felt my heart go into overdrive. Dying? Of course I knew it was true. In fact, I would have gladly chosen death not more than a few moments ago.

Ilyan waited before exhaling deeply, as if he had received a response.

“Focus on my hand, Joclyn.” Ilyan had a panicked edge in his voice that jerked my mind right back to him. “I’m right here.”

I couldn’t understand why he was so panicked or what was so scary, until I began to feel it. First, Ilyan’s concerned face swam into view as my vision returned, his hand plastered against my cheek. Soon after, the numbness began to dissipate. As it moved out of me, the intense pain of before began to come back. I felt it first in the tips of my fingers and toes then it moved up my arms and into my legs. A loud wailing began to fill my ears, the deep melancholy sound seeming to fully embody how I felt. It filled my ears with such sadness and heartbreak, it rattled in my bones. My eyes darted around, desperate to find the owner, but instead only found Ilyan, his lips a hard line.

I was the one making the noise.

It took me a moment to realize what else was leaving my body; the warmth. The warmth which reminded me so much of Ryland was leaving right behind the numbness. It sucked itself away from me, until I felt nothing but pain and loneliness. My mouth opened even further as my agonizing screams mixed with my tears. The pain, combined with the loss, created an emotional tidal wave that was too much for me to handle. I could feel my body begin to shut down.

My screams began to lessen as I let the endless nothingness that had stayed hidden off to the side of my consciousness cover me like a blanket. The blackness wasn’t as nice as the numbness I had felt, but it still took the edge off the pain. It seemed to tell me to just give up, and I wanted to, so badly.

“My hand!” Ilyan practically yelled. “Focus on my hand!”

I forced my eyes back to his and tried to move my mind away from the comfortable blackness I had let take over and onto the hand I felt cupping my cheek. My screams decreased as I focused on him, finally coming out in panicked puffs.

A new warmth began to fill me; it radiated out from where Ilyan’s hand rested on my cheek and began to fill my entire body. Although it felt the same as the warmth I always felt from Ryland, something was different and drastically wrong. My mind and body began to fight against it.

“Don’t fight me, Joclyn,” Ilyan pleaded. “You have to let me in.”

I didn’t know what he was talking about; my heart seized in panic as my cloudy brain tried to grasp hold of understanding.

“Let me in,” he whispered.

Could he possibly mean that the warmth was him?

The warmth continued to spread throughout me, followed closely by the numbness I had only recently lost. I welcomed the numbing, glad that the pain was sweeping away into a loose memory. I kept my eyes on Ilyan as the pain faded; desperately wishing I could clutch myself to him and demand answers. I wished I could yell and fight, or simply disappear. Nothing in my body worked properly; nothing moved and no words came.

Ilyan moved his hand away from my legs and produced a cell phone, leaving my limp body to fall like a ribbon over his folded legs. He dialed a number and placed the phone to his ear, all the while his hand never left my cheek.

“Get me Ovailia.” There was a pause after he spoke as he waited for Ovailia to take the phone. When she did, his voice transferred into his native language. The words were full of consonants and deep sounds that rolled off his tongue and into the night air.

My mind wandered off at the sounds, my fuzzy brain not able to understand anything that was being said. It was easier to not focus on anything and instead let myself drift off into the nothingness. I wasn’t in pain now; it almost seemed like the blackness wanted me even more.

“Stay with me, Joclyn.” Ilyan’s voice broke off from his foreign chatter, the change in tongue bringing my mind back. “Focus on my hand. Focus on my voice.” He stared at me intently while waiting for me to agree.

“Ovailia,” he continued into his phone, “we will be returning home within the week. I need to get her body healed enough to travel.” He paused as the person on the other side of the line spoke. I felt my heart soar at the talk of healing me. A hospital and a shot of morphine sounded just about right.

“Tell Talon I will keep her safe.”

Talon? Wasn’t that Wyn’s boyfriend?

“No! Everyone needs to stay where they are. It is only going to cause problems if they empty the motel.”

“Ovailia,” Ilyan snapped, and his accent increased, making his voice difficult to understand. “I ‘ave levt zoo in sharge, ind iv zoo canoot keep zings usser constrol for vun veek vifout my prezzanse ve vill haff to reffink zis arrangement. Iz zat clear?”

He snapped the phone shut and huffed angrily. Even through his angry rant, his hand had still stayed softly on my cheek.

“You’re lucky you don’t have a sister,” he said, his accent lessened. I was confused. I thought Wyn was his sister; perhaps this Ovailia was their sister, too, and they just never mentioned her.

I felt an uncomfortable pain seize through my spine, and my body moved involuntarily.

“We have to move.” Ilyan stated, looking away from me in expectation. He flipped open his phone again and dialed a number.

“Wynifred?”

Wyn? My heart beat erratically at her name.

“We will be there in about an hour. We are in Sunnyvale.”

Sunnyvale? But that was at least a two hour drive. How did we get here?

“I took us here to break the trail, but we cannot stay here long. She is very greatly injured. I need you to draw a bath.”

A bath? Wasn’t he taking me to the hospital?

He snapped the phone shut and placed it back into his pocket.

“Joclyn? We are going to have to move. I know you probably really want to go to sleep right now, but you can’t. Try to focus, all right? Focus on me; focus on my voice. You need to stay awake, for Ryland.”

“Ryland?” My voice came out like a sob; in fact, I was surprised I had even spoken at all.

“Yes, Joclyn, for Ryland. You need to stay awake for him. Can you do that?”

I stared at him intently, hoping my expression would display the yes I felt in my heart.

“Good girl, Silnỳ.”

Ilyan shifted his weight and moved my rag doll form into his arms, his hand never once leaving my skin. He moved smoothly, his body rocking and jostling me around with each step he took. This sensation was so much different than before; I could feel every step, every time his foot hit the ground.

The steps and swaying increased significantly before the wind returned and the rough movements stopped. I watched through open eyes as stars, street lights and buildings soared past us, faster than I thought possible, the shining orbs becoming blurs in my line of vision. The wind in my hair relaxed me even further and I felt myself move into the ever-present blackness once again.

No! I needed to stay awake for Ryland… and for me. I would never be sure, but I swear my arm jumped uncontrollably as I tried to force myself out of the comfortable warmth that the blackness provided.

“It’s okay, Silnỳ,” Ilyan said, his accent rolling out his vowels again.

I did want to believe that, but everything was so confusing. Even in my foggy, hazy mind, I was having trouble understanding what was going on. I couldn’t get the images of flying furniture, my aggressive attackers and my mother’s body out of my mind. My heart shuddered at the thought of my mother’s limp form. It sounded more like I called out to her. Ilyan looked down at me, shocked to see me looking at him.

“Your mother?”

My eyes grew wider.

“I’m sorry, Joclyn. I wish I would have gotten there earlier. I wish I could have saved her.” He looked down at me again, and I saw the sympathy hidden in the chasm of his eyes.

My whole world had broken apart in one wild blow. The truth of Ilyan’s words was a wrecking ball against my soul. I saw her frozen body in my mind, and I knew he was telling the truth; that she was gone. Even though my brain accepted it, my heart simply wouldn’t. It fought and screamed inside my broken body. It begged me to hit and yell, and beg to know that Ilyan was lying. I could almost feel my body jolt as I attempted to act out what I needed to do.

“Calm, Joclyn. I need you to stay still. Try not to think about anything now.” Ilyan exhaled sharply. The raw emotions that coursed through me boiled my blood aggressively, causing my body to jump and twitch. I wanted to yell, and cry, and demand answers all at the same time; but in the end, it was just another pain to add to all the others that encompassed me, and the numbness swept it away.

The wind stopped, and I felt Ilyan’s hand run comfortingly against the bare skin of my back. The warmth inside me increased and my mind became fuzzy, Ilyan’s touch taking everything away.

“I know things are becoming clearer, but you need to relax. We will have time for questions and answers when your body is healed.”

The wind came back into my hair again, blowing it across my face. The sensation made me think of my many trips up the canyon with Ryland. I loved to roll the window down all the way and feel the air across my face, smell the scent of the trees, the water, the fresh mountain air; they all had a magic of their own. That’s what this reminded me of—magic.

The wind decreased to nothing again as Ilyan’s feet hit against something hard and brought us to a stop. I lessened the strain on my eyes and let them fall toward the light in front of us. I recognized the balcony door of Wyn’s apartment immediately. The large couch and overstuffed chair sat exactly where they had been only yesterday.

“It’s probably best if you don’t see Wyn right now.” Ilyan’s hand covered my face and lowered my eyelids. “It may only upset you more.”

I felt him take a step forward and then heard the click of the patio door as it shut and locked us into the apartment. Wyn’s frantic steps came up in front of us. I tried desperately to open my eyes, but the lids wouldn’t budge.

“Oh! Goodness, please tell me she is alive, Ilyan?” Wyn’s voice was panicked and deep, but something else had changed. I could almost detect a hint of an accent, an accent almost identical to Ilyan’s. I almost didn’t recognize her voice.

“She can hear you, Wynifred; please watch your tones.”

“I don’t see how that matters anymore, My Lord. Your little cover has been blown wide open.”

Ilyan grunted angrily.

My Lord? My mind flashed to the text message. “My Lord” was not a standard nick-name for a brother. And cover? I knew I had missed something, but my fuzzy brain couldn’t place anything together properly.

“The bath is drawn,” the distorted voice of Wyn continued.

“Seal the door,” Ilyan commanded before walking away, his arms still holding me tightly to his chest.

“What happened, Ilyan?” I heard Wyn’s strange voice come up from behind.