Touching Fire (Touch Saga) (8 page)

“I
want to hit him,” I mumbled, watching as Archer strode around the coach to the open box and Ashton.

Chuckling, Isaiah moved to grab our bags
.

I followed, never taking my eyes off Archer, who was in deep conversation with Ashton. Maybe he felt the force of my hot glare, because he took that moment to glance over and give me one of those annoying, smug smirks of his.
I gritted my teeth and turned my head away.

“Ready?” Ashton said when Isaiah had both bags in hand.

He slammed the lid on the box down and motioned us to follow him up a row of stone steps to the set of wide, mahogany doors.

I held my breath as we
passed over the threshold and stepped into a two story foyer carved from gleaming marble and scrolled-iron grillwork. The twisted metal ran up alongside the curved stairway leading up to another floor. Beneath it, cut into the stone, was an arched doorway that looked like it led down a corridor. In the center of the room was a round, stone table with the biggest vase I had ever seen in my life. The subtle scent of tulips perfumed the lavish space. Overhead, dangling from the vaulted ceiling, was a dazzling chandelier constructed of polished gold and dripping diamonds. It was a little creepy how much the place reminded me of Garrison’s palace. The only difference was the fact that I had arrived of my own free will … more or less.

“
I need to send word to my father, unless you need me further?” Archer turned to Ashton, waiting.

Ashton shook his head. “Thank you, Archer.”

Archer inclined his head before turning it to me. Through the lenses of his glasses, I could see the transformation of my face from neutral to suspicious and annoyed. Archer snickered like I wasn’t silently wishing him a painful death.

“
We’ll meet again very soon, Princess.”

“Don’t do me any favors,” I muttered in return.

He rolled his tongue over his teeth before turning his attention to Isaiah. He said nothing as he snapped on his heels and strolled off down the hallway. His jacket flapped like batwings around him.

Isaiah turned away from Archer’s retreating back and focused on Ashton.
“What happened to the other house?”

“There’s another
house?” My curiosity was piqued.

Ashton
averted his gaze. “The home I had with your mother. I haven’t been back there in years.” He gave me a lopsided grin that didn’t reach his eyes. “Too many painful memories.”

I wasn’t sure why, but I never considered the possibility that my parents ever lived together. I never pictured a home
that I was brought to, small and bundled in a blanket, fresh from the hospital. I never thought there was a place with a room containing a tiny crib just for me. Yet, there clearly must have been one at some point.

“Where is it?” I asked.

His grave eyes met mine. “Protected. I will take you there, but not tonight.” The tension in his voice faded and he gave me a half smile. “Tonight, I need a shower and a meal. You must be famished yourself.”

I was, but I shook my head. “I just want a shower.”
I ignored the sharp glance Isaiah cast me.

Ashton nodded like it made sense. “
I will show you to your rooms. No one will bother you there. You will be safe.”

“What about Garrison?” I asked.

“No one can find you here. Especially not Terrell.” He glanced at me. “You’re safe, Fallon,” he vowed. “I will do everything in my power to keep it that way.”

I wanted so desperately to believe him, to fall into that
safe net he was weaving. But all I could think was how much that place reminded me of Garrison’s secret compound deep in the wilderness of British Columbia. It was isolated and both were surrounded by high walls and the impossibility of escape. Both claimed I wasn’t a prisoner yet I felt like nothing else.

I shoved
those thoughts away, knowing from experience that dwelling too much on thoughts of Garrison would only eat away at the little shred of sanity I had remaining and damn him if I let him take everything.

No sooner had
I managed to relax part of the tension stiffening my muscles when the steady click of heels pierced through the air, reverberating off the walls and ceilings. All heads turned as a beautiful Asian woman walked into the foyer, looking the picture of absolute perfection in her white blouse and flowing red skirt. A thick, leather belt clung to her ridiculously tiny waist with a dual set of buckles at the midsection. Brown boots were laced to her feet. She reminded me of an old fashioned schoolmarm. Even her black hair was twisted in an elaborate knot that twisted off at the temples to wind into a perfect knot at the base of her neck. Then she turned her large almond-shaped eyes from Ashton to me and Isaiah and the picture of normalcy she portrayed vanished.

Her eyes were yellow like the color of mashed squash and slitted in the center in a very feline manner. They were circled with long, thick lashes
that only seemed to intensify their inhumanness.

She smiled
pointy cat teeth like it was totally normal that we were drenched in blood and looked like we’d just stumbled our way out of some battlefield.

“
You’ve arrived.” She stepped forward, slender hand extended, each one tipped with sharp little nails. “I am Celia.”

I
hesitated to wipe as much of the blood on my hands off onto my dress before accepting. I was surprised by how soft and supple hers felt closing around mine.

“Fallon.” I guess
ed she knew that, but I said it anyway.

“Fallon.” Her smile widened, as did her pupils.
“It’s such a pleasure to finally meet you. Your father has spoken of nothing else.” She released my hand and turned to Isaiah. “Hello again, Isaiah. You’ve kept away too long.”

He had the sense to look sheepish. “Good to see you again, Celia.”

There was no handshake this time. She stepped forward and embraced him, holding him tight before stepping back, hands on his shoulders to peer up into his face.

She was tiny. Even with the four inch heels strapped to her dainty feet, she barely touched
the center of Isaiah’s chest. With a pat to his broad shoulders, she moved to stand next to Ashton, who almost instinctively slipped an arm around her trim waist and tucked her into his side.

I stiffened.

The gesture was intimate, fluid, like he’d done it a million times and the way Celia was leaning into him … I wasn’t a rocket scientist, but even I knew what two plus two equaled.

“Celia
is my wife,” Ashton said almost carefully, and all I could think was,
he’s married?
When? When had he divorced my mom? I never saw her get any legal papers. Didn’t that sort of thing take years? How long after we were out of the picture did he go and shack up with the first set of legs that walked up to him?

Beside him, Celia tensed, her
tawny eyes huge. “Ashton, you did not tell—”

“Daddy! Daddy!” A girl of about four barreled into the
foyer, riot of black curls bouncing around a chubby, round face. She threw herself like a rocket straight at Ashton, latching on to his leg like a monkey in a frilly pink dress. “You’re home!”

I watched with numbing horror as he scooped the little girl up and hugged her to him, beaming
the way a proud father would.

Daddy?
He had a daughter, too? A four year old daughter, no less. Where was I four years ago? I was in some hole-in-the-wall motel, fighting off lice and cockroaches while my father was off creating himself a normal daughter, or was she a freak like me? Did he create her in some sterile lab, too? Taking out all the imperfections to fit the perfect new life he now had with his perfect wife and perfect house? Was she my replacement? Was that the reason he never sought me out? Because he had a better family?

“
Breathe!
”

I ignored the soothing whisper stroking the cavities of my mind. I didn’t want to breathe. I didn’t want to do anything. I wanted to leave. But Isaiah was behind me, blocking the door.

“Ashton.” Celia took a tight hold of Ashton’s forearm, digging her claws in until little rosebuds of blood soaked through the fabric of his ruined shirt. He winced. “Please have Archer show
Isaiah and Fallon to their rooms. I would like a word. Now.” She turned away from him and the fury melted from her porcelain features. She smiled kindly at me. “Please excuse us.”

Ashton looked genuinely confused,
but his wife was looking at him again and the look said very clearly that he was in a heap of trouble.

He glanced at me and Isaiah. “
I will come by your room a little later,” he said before turning and leading the way through the hallway, back in the direction Celia had come from.

Don’t bother!
I wanted to scream after him, but wisely tore at my bottom lip instead. Humiliation washed up into my face like scalding water, triggering hot tears to form behind my eyes. My hands shook as I balled them into fists.

“Did you know?” I growled deep in my throat the minute I could speak without breaking down.

“I didn’t,” Isaiah whispered. Of course he didn’t. Four years ago, he’d been following me around.

“How could you not know?” I rounded on him. “You knew her.”

He nodded slowly. “Yes, but it’s not what you think.”

“How the hell would you know what I…” I trailed off, realizing just how stupid that sounded.
Of course he knew what I was thinking. “It certainly didn’t take her long to weasel her way into the picture.”

“Celia’s not like that.”

His quick defense of the woman only increased my hatred for her. She had no right to take over my family. It was my mom who should have been standing there next to Ashton, not her. She stole that.

“
I’m sure it wasn’t like that,” Isaiah murmured, touching my elbow.

I jerked away from the brush of his fingers. Not commenting or looking at him; he should have been on my side, not hers.

“I
am
on your side,” he said quietly.

“Get out of my head!” I snarled, rounding in on him, limbs trembling. “Get out of my head, Isaiah!”

His brows furrowed, his lips thinned. “Then you need to calm down!”

“Bite me!” I snapped.

His eyes narrowed. His teeth flashed between curled lips. “Isn’t that my line?”

Heat exploded across my cheeks at his implication. “Go away! Just
… go! I don’t need you, or him, or this stupid place. Leave me alone.”

My duffle made a loud thump when he dropped it. “Fine!”

I didn’t watch him storm off. I stared at the front door instead, wondering just how far I could get before those guard things found me. Not far. I was stuck there.

And Ashton said it wasn’t a prison. HA!

Chapter 6

As soon as I was alone, I knew I’d been irrational. Once again, my temper had gotten the better of me and I was left standing there like some petulant child in the midst of having a tantrum. Of course Ashton had gotten married and had a family. I wasn’t happy about it. I would probably never be happy about it, but to think he’d sat around pining away for Mom was clearly stupid thinking on my part.

Nevertheless, I couldn’t seem to shake the crackle of anger and betrayal coursing through me. I was just dying to slam my fists into something. I would have too if I hadn’t heard the soft clip of approaching footsteps.

Archer found me just as Ashton said he would. He came sauntering through the open doorway, coat billowing around his long legs. He still wore his sunglasses.

“I was told my services were required,” he said, fluidly swooping down and snatching up my duffle.
“This way, Princess.”

I scowled at his back, but followed. “Who are you?” I demanded, practically running to
keep up with his long strides.

He slanted me a glance from over his shoulder. “
You know, I’ve heard of short term memory loss, but I’m a little insulted that you would forget this face.”

I rolled my eyes. “I mean to my dad. You’re not my half-brother or something are you?”

Halfway up the steps, he stopped and turned. I stopped three steps beneath him and tilted my head back to peer into his face. I looked small, almost insect-like in the reflection of his glasses.

“
Are you worried about your naughty thoughts towards me?” He hoisted my bag over one shoulder. The corner of his mouth tilted. “Afraid they might be immoral?”

Oh he was such a modest guy.

“You think quite a lot of yourself, don’t you?”

He shrugged. “
Not nearly as often as girls think about me, I’m sure.” He paused and glanced over his shoulder. “Where’s Prince Charming?”

“Don’t know,”
I muttered.

I hated that Isaiah and I were fighting. I hated that he’d left without me. I hated that he was gone and I was left riddled with guilt.
I honestly hadn’t thought we were capable of fighting. Yes, we’d disagreed, but we’d never actually fought over anything.

“Cheer up,” Archer said. “He can’t get very far.”

“What do you mean? This place is huge.”

We reached the top of the stairs and turned down a wide opening that branched off into three different directions. I sure to God hoped I would get a map before I was left to fend for myself.
We followed the bright red carpet right down a long, narrow corridor.

“
Well, eventually someone will smell the human and eat him.”

My foot caught on his words and I stumbled
. “What?”

His head turned slightly
over his shoulder. “I can tell you’re going to be such a joy to be around.”

I ignored him. “Is Isaiah okay?”

He shrugged, turning forward once more. “I wouldn’t care even if I knew.”

I
stomped to a standstill. “Why am I even asking you?” Turning away from him, I locked in on my link with Isaiah.
“Where are you? Are you okay? Isaiah?”

I hated the five seconds between my
badgering and his response.

“Where are you?”
he asked.

“Archer’s showing me to my bedroom. Where are you?”

“I don’t know. I took a weird turn somewhere.”

“I’ll come—”

“No! Stay where you are. I’ll find you.”

“
But I can get Archer to—”

“No,”
he replied slowly.
“Go ahead. I’m right behind you.”

It was evident that he wasn’t as ready to drop our fight as I was.
Well, if it was distance he wanted … Besides, it wasn’t like I believed Archer that anything in that place would really eat Isaiah. Granted, I was worried about him getting seen though. Ashton had been very specific about that.

“I’m not angry,”
Isaiah muttered a moment later.
“I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

I turned to Archer. “Okay, lead the way.”

“Are we finished staring off into space?” he countered dryly.

“I wasn’t staring off into space! I was…” I let myself trail off, realizing there was no way to really explain our telepathic link.
Well, there probably was, but I didn’t care enough about the guy to bother. “Are we going or what?”

Archer
cocked his head to the side and caught me in the reflections of his glasses. “I’m sure your prince charming is fine.” I couldn’t see his eyes, but his head cocked to the side so I imagined his eyes were narrowed. “Although I don’t get why you care. He’s human.”

“So am I.”

“Partially!” he countered like that made some huge difference.

“Why does that matter? I was raised human. My mother was human. I love—”

“Please don’t finish that.” He turned away. “I just ate.”

Hands balled, teeth clenched, I whipped around on my heels and marched back in the direction we’d come down.

“Where are you going?” I heard him shout after me.

“To find Isaiah.”
It was better than staying there with
him
and listening to his rude commentary.

I heard him groan loudly behind me. “All right
, fine!” I heard him stomp up behind me. “I’ll behave, and to prove that I mean it, I’ll even find him for you. Once you let me take you to your room first.”

“I don’t believe you.”
I folded my arms and faced him. “You could just be saying that.”

“
Delusional
and
paranoid—clearly a lethal combination.” I did flip him off this time. “How charming,” he mused dryly. Then he sighed and shook his head. “Fine, I, Arcarius Blackburn, Bane Legacy and son of Ira, hereby swear that I will find your boyfriend and return him to you.”

“How do I know I can trust you?”

He threw up the hand not holding the duffle. “I just swore on my name. What more do you want?”

I shrugged. “
Is that supposed to mean something?”

“
To swear by a name, your own particularly, is as binding as a signed contract written in blood.”

I grimaced. “Ew.”

“Also, I am a man of my word. Ask anyone.” He spun around and started onward. “Besides, you will never find him in this place. Did you happen to see just how large it is?”

He was right, which I hated to admit. The place was enormous. Wandering off in search of Isaiah would no doubt result in me getting lost.
I had to trust Archer and his name swearing. Left with no choice, I followed him.

We
took a bend at the end of the hall.

“He knows
what he’s doing, you know,” Archer said after several minutes of harsh silence. “Ashton, I mean.”

My eyes narrowed
. “What do you know of it?”

“Everything.” He tossed my bag effortlessly over one shoulder. “Your father and my father are best friends. I suppose that kind of makes us family.”

“Fabulous,” I grumbled.

He shot me a glance from over his shoulder and grinned.
“Exciting, right?”

A person needed the patience of a saint to talk to this guy.
Something I didn’t have.

“If
Ashton knows what he’s doing,” I began, needing to change the topic before I got blood all over the fancy corridor. “Then why doesn’t Ashton just kill Garrison and be done with it?”

“Why don’t you if it’s so simple?” he countered airily.

Okay, so he had me there.

“
We know what we’re doing, Princess, and we are much better at this game.”

“We?” I ventured. “Who’s
we
?”

“Oh you don’t really think your father does this alone, do you? He’s powerful, but even he’s not
that
powerful.”

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I mean it takes a crew to rob a bank. Not real banks!” He muttered when I couldn’t think of anything to say. “The metaphorical sort.”

I had no idea what
games
he was referring to, nor had I any idea what my role in all this was. I felt like I’d walked into the middle of a movie and was expected to know what part I played. The whole thing was messed up. A month ago I was a semi average teenager with a paranoid mother and a whole highway to call home. Yeah, I hated it—hated the running and the motels and the always being alone—but I had Mom. I had a semi clear view of myself and the person I was. Then I became a girl with powers beyond my control, a past I wish I never learned about, and a future I wasn’t sure I was ready for.

I wanted so badly to crawl under a rock until it all went away.

“Who are you?” I asked Archer again.

Without answering, he led me further along until we reached a much wider corridor, this one lined with a dozen enormous doors.
A glass archway was cut into the very far wall, overlooking a courtyard of stone. Light spilled across the gleaming marble that made up the floor and walls. The ceiling was vaulted and dripping with elaborate crystal chandeliers. We passed five of the doors before stopping at mine.

“Here we are,” Archer said.

Muscles tight with nerves, I hesitated. I wiped my hands on my skirt and stared at the gold handle.

“Will you or shall I?”
Archer asked, not unkindly.

“I will,” I murmured,
sucking in a lungful of courage.

The doorknob was cool against my palm.
It gave easily and swung inward without a sound. I closed the single step over the threshold and stopped.

The fragrant
scent of freshly cut lilies wrapped around me, warm from the blazing fire roaring from the stone hearth. Pale moonlight spilled through sheer curtains over high windows. A cool breeze swept through the room from the open terrace doors with the scent of grass, wildflowers and approaching rain. It ruffled the cream colored drapes floating off the massive four poster bed. Everything was rose and gold with light touches of cream that painted the room with an elegant brush. It was four walls of massive extravagance I had never in my life seen before. Everything from the pale furniture to the crystal chandelier dripping from the cathedral-style ceiling, to the stone hearth at the foot of the bed screamed money and luxury. Two things I’d never had.

“Is this mine?” I asked, t
oo afraid to look away in case it vanished.

“Well
, it isn’t mine.” Archer strode past me straight into the room and dumped my bag onto the bed, making the silk sheets ripple. “I doubt your boyfriend would like the idea of us being roommates.”

“It’s gorgeous!” I breathed, too awed to notice my feet shuffling deeper into the unknown.
“I’ve never had a room before,” I murmured, making a slow circle on the spot, greedily taking everything in with a hunger that could rival my need for blood.

“No?”
Archer hummed, surveying the room through his glasses, but I knew he wasn’t seeing it the way I was.

Leaving him watching after me, I walked to the terrace doors and peeked out.

The veranda was white stone cut into a wide circle that jutted several feet over a fairytale garden. Miles upon miles of rolling green hills, swaying trees and flowers bowed beneath my feet, a rainbow of colors in so many shades that I doubted half of them even had a name. Amongst the carvings, the gurgling fountain and statues, a maze of roses wound its way into the distance. All of it was illuminated by gas lamps that shone brightly in the velvet blackness.

I
shook my head, awed. “It’s beautiful.”

“Mm, yes. It is.”

I hadn’t heard him follow me, but there he was when I glanced back, shoulder propped against the frame, arms folded. I couldn’t tell what he was looking at, but the prickle of heat was hard to ignore as it climbed up my body to fill my cheeks.

I turned away.
“I need to clean up.”

He shoved away from the frame.
“And that’s my cue to leave.”

“
Archer!” I hurried after him when he started for the door.

He glanced back. “Princess?”

“Isaiah. Don’t forget.”

He paused for just a split second.

“You should forget about him,” he said at last. “You weren’t meant for him.” Then he was gone.

The
room lay quiet, except for the rustle of the lace curtains floating in the breeze. I pushed across the bedroom and shut the door behind him. Shaking my head, I made my way over to the bed. The mattress was firm. The foam cushioned my fall when I threw myself down. I bounced three times before coming to a stop. It was an actual mattress, a never-before-slept-on, stainless mattress, and I got to sleep on it.