Furious Flames (Elemental Book 3) (4 page)

“You missed,” I said.

She/he grinned. “I wasn’t going for your throat. How
did you figure it out so quickly?”

I indicated her/his arm with my gun. “No track marks,
not even the scars. The newer marks on Regina’s arms were hours old, yet her
eyes were completely clear. I figured you hypnotized her with a vampire thrall,
got her blood, and used your stolen shifter powers to change into her with that
blood. You had to have used a powerful thrall to break Clara’s. Also, I know a
woman’s touch and you don’t have it.”

Gale slowly changed. My skin crawled as Regina’s
womanly features fattened into Gale’s. His hair darkened and became shorter,
his jaw thickened, and the baggy black sweater and matching sweatpants filled
out to fit the man, who was about my size.

“Not another one,” Darwin groaned.

I don’t think it ever occurred to Darwin to be afraid
of Gale, who had infinitely many powers. “No, he’s using stolen shifter powers
along with Regina’s DNA.” I reached out to control his mind, but it was
blocked.

“I may not have your power yet, but I still have more
than enough to keep you out of my head,” Gale said.

“What do you want?” Darwin asked, more irritated than
angry. We spent all summer trying to find Gale, but we never actually came up
with a plan for what to do afterwards. On top of that, my mother was in the
other room.

Gale grinned, completely unperturbed by my gun. “I
got what I came for.” He stepped back and vanished.

Not in a cloud of smoke or the shadows or anything;
he just disappeared.

Chapter 2

I saw her running, heard her
panting breaths, smelled the blood seeping from the wound across her waist, and
felt her heart hammering in her chest. I wasn’t seeing through her eyes or
mine. I sensed the location of the dark street because
she
knew where
she was. It was dark and raining. The streets had bad drainage systems, so
water pooled at her ankles. It was just a few degrees away from snowing. Her
wound hurt. Exhaustion and blood loss made her legs weak, but she had to keep
running. It was all she could do.

She was prey. Someone was after her; someone who knew
her strengths and weaknesses.
He
was a killer by nature and by
profession. Her wound was slowing her down because she was losing blood too
fast.

She tripped over a pipe sticking out of the road and
fell heavily into the water. Without enough energy to even stand back up, she
propped herself against the brick wall of the building.
An abandoned grocery
store. Ironic,
she thought, because she was starving.

The street light about ten feet away, which was the
only light remaining in the city, flickered out. Shadows prowled easily now,
invisible to all but my eyes. As the light faded for the human eye, my vision
accommodated. I could see perfectly in the dark and the rain, as light seemed
to reflect from surfaces.

Nothing was in color, but I could see what was warm,
what was cold, what was alive, and what shouldn’t have existed at all. Shadows
moved; dark shapes which absorbed the light that only my eyes could detect. I
could identify them easily against the inanimate, physical reality that the
living saw. What preyed in the dark was not a living being.

He had found her. The shadows waited, eagerly
watching the hunt draw to a close. They were ready to take every drop of blood
left in her. Her eyes closed and she slumped against the brick wall, unable to
hold on any longer. Her hand dropped from her abdomen and blood spilled into
the dirty water faster. He moved in with practiced ease. This was what he did,
and he was the best of his kind.

The shadows shuddered and danced with anticipation.

He knelt in front of her, not minding the frigid
water soaking his jeans. It was another sensation to recall later, when he
thought back on this kill.

I could see into his mind as easily as I could see
into hers. He put the muzzle of the gun to her head slowly, savoring the
moment. But she wasn’t dead. Her eyes snapped open. There was no fear as she
looked up him, just resignation.

“Krechea sends his regards.”

 

*          *          *

 

If there was anyone in the world whose presence I
couldn’t mistake, it was Astrid. She was snuggled up against me on the couch. I
was so tired of dealing with people who wanted to ruin me, like Regina, or kill
me, like Gale. What Astrid did was horrible and unforgivable.

I pulled her closer, tightening my arms around her so
that her face was in the crook of my neck. It was dangerous and stupid, but one
thing I knew for sure about Astrid was that she wasn’t out for herself.

She moaned softly. “You’re bleeding.”

“Have you ever heard the name Krechea?” I asked.

“No. Who’s he?” she responded, still half asleep.

I shook my head. “Nobody, probably. I thought I heard
his name before and I just had a dream.” I had this particular dream before,
yet I was still no closer to saving Astrid. I didn’t know who the man was who
shoots her, what he was after, when or where all this was supposed to happen,
or why she was hurt in the first place.

She sat up. “What kind of dream?” Through the window in
the kitchen, the barest hint of morning light was creeping in.

“Get in the closet.”

“What kind of dream?” she asked again, more
insistently.

I stood, ready to force her into the hallway closet,
when the light reached her skin. The pale shade of her cheek reddened, but
didn’t burn. “Why… How are you able to stand that?”

“I’m getting better.” She stood. “What kind of
dream?”

“The kind I shouldn’t have had.” Not without my ring,
at least. I obviously needed to go back to training with Vincent. As if summoned,
Ghost appeared, instantly spitting and hissing at Astrid.

She rolled her eyes. “Can’t you do something about
him?”

“He hates everyone. The only thing I could do is put
him out of our misery, and I think my uncle would object to that.” The cat
vanished, leaving behind a letter. I ignored it. “Are you sure that isn’t
burning you?” I asked, reaching out and stroking her cheek gently. It was
growing even redder.

“It hurts, but it’s less intense each time.”

“Does this mean you’re not a full vampire?”

“It’s not that easy to determine. Stephen thinks I
might have one vampire parent and one other paranormal. If one of my parents
were human, I would be full vampire. He also suggested that neither of my
parents were vampires, but that my grandfather might have been giving me
vampire blood long enough that my body adapted to it. That would explain why I
changed so much after I killed him.”

“How did you change?”

“I think clearer now.”

“So when you think back to that night…?”

“I wish I could go back and kill my grandfather and
Joseph Sanders all over again. Your mother, however, didn’t deserve what I did.
I’m still the same person I was that night, but I’m unlikely to snap like that
again. Above all else, you can count on me not to ever attack you.”

“You betrayed me that night. I still hate you for
that.”

“Yet you slept right next to me and I didn’t kill
you. I never would. I hate you a little bit for that as well, because I would
do anything to protect you. I would
kill
anyone for you.”

“Why are you here?”

“You never told me what happened after I left the
school. I heard from Stephen that you confronted Gale in the tunnels under the
castle. I should have stayed. You should have told me to stay.”

“Darwin, Henry, and I defeated Gale. Or, at least we
slowed him down.”

“That’s not the point. I don’t care if you love me or
hate me or both, as long as you can’t stand to be away from me. I want you to
look at me like you used to.”

“Why does that sound ominous?”

“I’m going to kill Gale myself, and anyone else who
threatens you.”

“That’s the vampire talking. Not long after you found
Seda, you told me all life was important and precious.”

“I was wrong.”

“That’s why I’ll never look at you the same way. I
want
my
Astrid back. Get in the closet.” She obeyed, but not without giving
me a heartbreaking frown on the way. I picked up the letter Ghost left behind,
which was written with the normal green ink and spidery script. I expected my
uncle’s usual, overly wordy letter that was both cryptic and encouraging.

 

 

 

Dear Devon,

 

There is a way through for you now. I must be
brief, for we are out of time. From a place where boundaries bleed and fears
fester, I have realized the flaw in my alliance. You must not trust your eyes,
not even your Sight. The answers are clear solely in the absence of light. You
are the only one who can make this journey, and you must do it alone.

I am afraid this may be the end for me, and I find
myself with a single regret; you should have been my son. Farewell, nephew.

 

Sincerely,

Your Uncle

 

 

 

“What?” I asked aloud. When the letter didn’t
respond, I looked around for the cat. “What?!”

I pulled the small pouch from my neck, snapping the
thin chain, and upended it until my mysterious ring that Vincent had me use in
training fell out into my hand. I tossed the pouch aside and slipped the ring
on my left index finger, still clutching the letter tightly.

My vision darkened until I saw a world of true
horror. It was like an old village where the houses were merely straw huts and
the roads were dirt path. This wasn’t the gruesome part. There were bodies in
random piles, burning. At first, I thought it was an archaic time when the
plague was rampant and people were trying to stop infection from spreading…
then I saw the little boy. He was the only person I saw alive, and he was
eating the stomach of a woman who, by the looks of it, had been dead for more
than a week. The boy’s eyes were red.

A burning sensation in my hands distracted me and the
vision suddenly seemed to melt. I took the ring off and found the letter in
flames. Fire ate the paper in an instant, leaving me with a hand full of ash
and questions without answers. My uncle needed help and I had no idea where he
was.

Although I had tried to see into Vincent’s mind
before, it was always blocked to me, so I didn’t know what to look for. I also
didn’t have anything of his I could use to track him. Hell, I didn’t even have
a damn phone number.

At least, not Vincent’s phone number
. I picked
up my cell phone and called Maseré. “Can you find out where Vincent is?” I
asked without pleasantries.

“I’ll call Logan; he’ll know.” The alpha wolf was all
business. Like his son, he could go from goofy and playful to completely
serious in an instant. He hung up without another word, obviously hearing worry
in my voice.

Darwin came out of Amelia’s room then. “What’s the
plan?” he asked with a tone identical to his father’s.

“Why were you in her room?”

“I heard your girlfriend break in last night. Also, I
didn’t want there to be a witness if your real ex-wife showed up and you wanted
to hit her or shoot her or something.”

“I wouldn’t shoot Regina.”

He frowned. “You shot Astrid. Speaking of, where is
the fanged fiend?”

“With your father, probably. I don’t think Gale
was–”

“I was talking about Astrid, not Regina.”

“She’s in the closet.”

“Really? I thought she was totally into you.” I
scowled and he rolled his eyes. “So she’s in the hallway closet, which is about
a foot away from where your mum is sleeping? And you didn’t freak out and jump
to conclusions?”

He was right; I had put Astrid’s safety above my
mother’s. “We need to deal with Gale. What do you think he’s after, the amulet,
or revenge? Use your probability.”

“That doesn’t work great on motives. Also, I don’t
know hardly anything about him. Felicity gave herself up for him, and that was
something I could never have expected. Personally, I would rather deal with
Gale than her, but we don’t know how powerful he really is. Between revenge and
more power, I’m thinking he wants more power.”

“I disagree,” Amelia said from the doorway of her
room. She shrugged shyly when we looked at her. “It just sounds to me like she
was the only person he had. I would think that the pain of losing the only
person you love takes priority to gaining more power when you already believe
you’re the most powerful.”

“You have a point,” Darwin said. “Besides, he did
show up here looking like Regina instead of showing up at Henry’s place looking
like…” His eyes widened dramatically as he trailed off. “We need to warn Henry.
That must have been why he cut you; he wasn’t trying to distract you but get
your DNA. He’s probably going to pretend to be you and get the amulet from
Henry.”

“Henry would know.”

“Henry wouldn’t suspect you of not being you.”

“With his popping in and out thing, he can get to
Henry before we can call him. We might already be too late. It also explains
why he didn’t try to kill me; he wants my power and can only get it if he has
the talisman. Do you know Henry’s number?” I asked, tossing him my cell phone.

He nodded and dialed the number. After he held it to
his ear for a second, he frowned at me. “Disconnected.” He dialed another
number and his expression became pained a moment later. My phone turned pastel
purple. “Hi, Mum. Is Dad there? He’s talking to Drake? Can you tell him to… no,
I don’t need you to come back. No, I don’t know what time it is. Mum, I didn’t…
Mum? I need to talk to… I’m not drunk, would you please stop telling Dad to… If
Amelia were pregnant, it wouldn’t be my child. Give the phone to Dad. I need to
talk to…” He sighed with frustration and the phone turned bright blue.

He gave me a look and I opened a well-used link
between us.
“Do you know anyone who would know where Henry lives?”
I
asked in his mind.

“It should be in the school records. I’m hoping
Hunt can find him through the shadows like he found you, but my mother won’t
hand Dad the damn phone before it’s too late.”
An audible current leapt
from his skin to the phone and he dropped it in shock. I knew before it
clattered to the ground that it was dead.

“What did you do?” I asked.

He stared at it as if he had never seen a phone
before. “I was just… I didn’t do that.”

“We both saw you do that,” Amelia argued.

“That was wizard magic. That was your magic,” he told
me.

There was a hard knock on my door and I groaned.
“This isn’t going to be good.” I answered the door to see two police officers,
both looking contrite. I knew instantly they were shifters, and neither would
look me in the eye. One was a tall, thin man with immaculate blond hair and a
too-thin face. The other man was about my height and more muscular, with
shaggy, dark brown hair.

“What are you two doing here?” Darwin asked. The
shifters wouldn’t look at him either.

“We are here to arrest Devon Sanders,” the tall one
said. “Over the disappearance of Regina Sand–”

The shorter shifter punched him in his gut to shut
him up. “Regina Paris.”

“She’s dead? I thought Maseré was watching her?”

“They were watching her until she went to bed. She
was in a room with no windows or doors except the door to the living room,
which they were waiting in. When they went to check up on her, she was
missing.”

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