Feel the Flames Read online

  “I’m guessing you don’t know how you feel about me?” he asked.

  “No. I know. It’s just…I mean I…” I continued to stammer, unable to form a complete sentence.

  “It’s okay. We’ll discuss it another time.” He tucked a stray curl behind my ear and winked at me.

  “I don’t hate you,” I finally managed to say.

  “So, you love me.”

  “I…uh…”

  Dorian laughed and kissed me on the forehead. “There are few things about this immortal existence that I enjoy more than screwing with you.”

  “Gee, thanks,” I muttered, bumping him with my shoulder.

  We sat quietly for a bit, holding hands. I rested my head on his shoulder, and together we just enjoyed the silence between us. He seemed relaxed and happy for the first time in a few days.

  I thought about Arna’s warning. But I couldn’t fathom not placing my trust in Dorian…not after everything we’d been through together. There was something different about him. That I couldn’t deny, but I didn’t think it warranted losing trust in him. I stared at our fingers intertwined, unable to discern between his and mine.

  “Have you remembered anything else? From before?” I asked, looking over at him.

  Dorian’s face suddenly changed, his entire demeanor no longer laid back or playful.

  “No, not really,” he said with a bit of an edge in his voice. “The voice still escapes me.”

  He grew quiet.

  “What about the headaches you mentioned?”

  “What about them?” He ripped his fingers from mine and paused, glaring at me before stomping toward the door.

  “Well, I was just curious.”

  “Well, stop asking. I don’t remember a damn thing. And the headaches I get when I try to just aren’t worth it.”

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  “Stop asking stupid questions and I won’t get upset.” And with that, Dorian flung the door open and stormed out, slamming it behind him.

  I sat there completely dumbfounded, not sure what had just happened.

  “Well, that escalated quickly,” I said out loud.

  I leapt up and raced outside to confront him, but Dorian was nowhere to be found. My gaze instinctively went upward searching the skies to see if he’d flown off. But instead of seeing Dorian flying away, I saw a falcon as it soared above my head, missing me by inches, landing on top of my trailer with a shriek.

  The bird cocked its head, his attention focused strictly on me, eyes never wavering from where I stood. I knew instantly it was the same one from before. The scar above its eye was unmistakable.

  “You’re following me,” I said, taking a step toward the bird. “Why?”

  The falcon didn’t move or falter in its gaze. Instead, it merely blinked and then squawked loudly.

  “Don’t yell at me.” I stared back. “Didn’t happen to see where that guy with the wings just went, did you?”

  The bird blinked.

  “No? You sure? He’s about my height. Good looking with big black wings. A tidge on the cranky side.”

  The falcon stretched upward, flapping its wings wildly, a few feathers floating to the ground at my feet.

  “Fine. So, you’re just going to sit up there and stare at me?” I bent my knees and jumped high into the air landing hard on top of my trailer about ten feet from the winged trespasser.

  Most birds would have flown off in a hurry, startled at the commotion I had made. But the falcon didn’t appear frightened or the least bit alarmed by my presence.

  I remained crouched low and continued to speak. “That’s one hell of a scar you got there. How’d you get it? Tangle with the wrong bird? A bear? A frisky mountain lion?”

  The falcon met my gaze. It blinked and cocked its head a bit to the side as it seemed to study me.

  “You realize I’m sitting on top of my trailer talking to a bird, right? A frickin’ bird. Throw me a bone here. I’m having a weird day, and the last thing I need is for Dorian to come back and see me up here trying to talk to you.”

  The falcon finally spread its wings and took off, soaring off to the east and eventually out of sight.

  “What the hell was that all about?” I said out loud, standing up.

  Then, as if the sky was answering me, a sudden crack of thunder shook the air and was followed by a large gust of wind. The skies didn’t match the onset of what felt like an impending storm. I knew instantly that something wasn’t right.

  I heard a low, faint chuckle, the gravelly tone sending a shiver down my spine. Already knowing what I would find, I leaned down over the edge of my roof and braced myself.

  “Hello, Naberius.”

  Chapter 14

  I leapt down from the roof and stood face-to-face with the charming Lord of Cunning. The wind kicked up, causing his hair to blow about, stray strands dancing in front of his face. I studied his features up close. His grotesque grin didn’t match the rest of his striking facial features, causing me to wonder whether one would find him attractive or repulsive.

  “And to whom do I owe the pleasure?” I asked flatly, leaping down from the roof. I met him toe-to-toe and stared him down, refusing to let him think he could intimidate me in any way. “As if I didn’t know. How’s your master? Still hell-bent on ruling the world?”

  “I thought, perhaps, that we could discuss the proposition I laid at your feet some time back.” Naberius’s gray eyes danced with glee as he spoke in an annoyingly friendly tone. In fact, his voice, although gravelly and rough, was oddly welcoming and pleasing to the ear.

  And it pissed me off.

  For a demon, he was dangerously likeable.

  “I assume you’ve had some time to rethink your position,” he continued.

  “I thought I’d made myself perfectly clear the last time you graced us with your presence. You’re obviously not used to rejection, so allow me to reiterate. The answer was, and still is, unequivocally…no.”

  “I don’t believe you truly appreciate the gravity of the situation.”

  “I appreciate the gravity plenty. The gravity has been appreciated. I applaud the hell out of the gravity of this so-called situation. But the answer is still no.”

  “Skyy. There is far more at stake here than just the Seal of Solomon.”

  “Oh, I know,” I replied caustically, waving my hands around erratically. “The world is at stake. Humanity is at stake. The seal gets into the wrong hands…your hands, angel hands, human hands, my hands…Armageddon is inevitable. And according to my sources…no one survives. So, I get what’s at stake here. Better than you realize.”

  “So grim you are. Someone always survives,” he replied. “It is the way it’s always been.”

  I leaned in and glared at him hard. I knew he was trying to charm me, but what he didn’t know was that he’d met his match.

  “Not this time. So, you might as well just give up. Even if by some chance I do go looking for the ring…and find it…I’d spend a lifetime in Hell before I handed it over to the likes of you.”

  “That—could be arranged,” he replied, his raspy voice almost purring in anticipation.

  “Funny,” I said, with a fake chuckle. “You’re a funny guy.”

  “Well, I believe you may choose to alter your decision soon.”

  “Don’t count on it.”

  “Oh, I feel as though you can be coerced to do the right thing. I just have to press the right buttons.”

  “You mean like beating up an innocent mortal like Grace? Trashing her store? Yeah…sure. Takes balls to have your demon cronies beat up a mortal woman. I don’t find you impressive, and I certainly don’t find you intimidating. So, if you even come within a hundred feet of Grace again, I’ll cut off your head and feed it to the pigs at the farm north of here. That’s a promise.”

  Naberius laughed loudly, clearly amused at my threat. He reached out and tousled one of my curls in his fingers. I didn’t move. My wings fluttered unc
onsciously as my skin crawled with disgust at how close he was. I wasn’t sure how to react, so I stared him down.

  “My dear Skyy. There are other buttons I can push.” Naberius winked and took a step back.

  “You clearly don’t know me very well then.”

  The crimson-haired demon winked and then vanished before my eyes.

  * * * *

  Dorian returned a few hours later acting as though nothing had happened. He sauntered into my studio and began cracking jokes just like always. It was almost as if he didn’t remember being a complete jackass to me earlier. I could only gawp at him, unable to fathom his complete turnaround in attitude. A part of me wanted to walk up to him and punch him in the jaw. At least then he’d realize how upset I was with him.

  But I didn’t feel like arguing, so I allowed his previous behavior to roll off my back.

  For the time being.

  I couldn’t ignore it forever, though. There were definite moments where Dorian wasn’t himself. The moments were brief, but they didn’t go unnoticed. He had always been laid back and good-humored, but since he’d come back from the dead he seemed moody and cantankerous from time to time. I still couldn’t quite convince myself that it was anything significant to worry about, but I also couldn’t seem to fully convince myself that it wasn’t at least a bit troubling. I worked hard to ignore the behavior and continued to make excuses for him, but I knew I was kidding myself.

  Apart from Sean, I had succeeded in keeping my existence hidden in recent years. But after meeting Dorian, my life had been turned about. Between deadly sword fights and the battle for my own heart, concern was no longer only about keeping myself concealed from the outside world but Dorian, as well.

  But Dorian’s recent behavior warranted a different type of concern. I wasn’t sure how to approach the issue of his emotional outbursts without creating an uncomfortable rift between us. Romantic relationships, as a whole, weren’t something I understood to begin with, but to add in the complication that we were both immortal and bound together by fate…it only caused me to become even more confused about love than I was before.

  Love. It was a word I still couldn’t comprehend, nor was it something I had ever anticipated being in. Not that I thought I was actually in love with Dorian. Or maybe I was. How could I know for sure? I’d read various books over the years that involved such things. Jane Austen, Henry James, Shakespeare. It all eluded me…that confounded psychological need to be in love. But the books only contained words of how it felt or why they felt the way they did about another. Nothing I ever read explained the feeling itself or why it was so important.

  Perhaps I already loved Dorian and didn’t realize it. Or maybe I was only fooling myself. It wouldn’t have surprised me to believe that I was incapable of true romantic feelings. After all, I had lived alone for centuries in a state of constant mistrust of all other intelligent beings and put all my energy into keeping my distance. I built up emotional walls that only until recently had begun to come down. I had Sean to thank for that. Over the years, he showed me what true friendship was. But my feelings toward Sean had always been brotherly and not romantic. Whatever feelings I had for Dorian were far more…complicated.

  With Dorian, I was in real danger of screwing it all up. I was afraid of saying the wrong thing and losing him forever. Was that love? Living in fear of not having the other person in your life? Or was it simply the want to have them around you at all times?

  I wished there was someone I could ask about those kind of things, but my pool of confidantes was pretty small. Nearly all were immortal beings, and I doubted that any of them could shed any light on the mystery of love.

  Dorian attempted to make himself useful in my studio, grabbing the broom and making quick work of sweeping the floors and tidying up my workspaces. He whistled away, happily going from one task to another as if he hadn’t a care in the world. I watched in awe wondering what it was like to be that happy. In all my years walking upon the earth, I had never felt complete and utter joy. Granted, there had been small periods of time with Dorian, cuddling together in silence, which left me feeling satisfied. And there were times with Sean where I had laughed at his goofy antics. But nothing in my life had ever given me the kind of peace that afforded me not a care in the world.

  In fact, the world weighed heavy on my mind. As did its inhabitants.

  “Did you hear me?”

  Dorian stood with the broom frozen in mid-sweep, staring in my direction.

  “Huh?” I grunted.

  “I just asked you what you were thinking about so hard.”

  “Oh,” I replied. “Nothing, really.”

  “Well, your thoughts are blocked out, so I can’t hear you. And your expression tells me it wasn’t nothing. In fact, your eyes alone tell me it was something.” Dorian casually let the broom fall to the floor, the wooden handle landing with a crack on the cement floor. He strolled over and playfully placed his hands on my hips, pulling me close. “You okay? I know this whole seal of Solomon thing is really bothering you.”

  “I’m fine. It’s just that Naberius was here earlier, and—”

  “Wait. That red-haired demon freak was here? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I just did. I was still trying to process it all.”

  Dorian dropped his hands from my waist and took a step back.

  “What did he want? As if I didn’t know.”

  “Same as before,” I said. “Added that he had buttons he could push if necessary.”

  “Buttons?”

  “Empty threats. He doesn’t intimidate me.”

  Dorian stared at the ground and shoved his hands in his pockets. “We’re going to look for it, aren’t we.”

  It wasn’t a question. Dorian already knew the answer.

  “I don’t think we have a choice. Either I find it and figure out a way to destroy it or risk it getting into the hands of either side.”

  “Do you think it can be destroyed?” he asked, looking me in the eye.

  “I don’t know. I mean, the One Ring from Lord of the Rings was able to be destroyed by throwing it into the Crack of Doom in Mordor. So, what’s not to say that a ring similar in mythology can’t be destroyed?”

  “The what ring?”

  I dropped my head in frustration. “I forgot you’re not a fan of Tolkien. Never mind. Point is, nothing is indestructible. Everything ultimately has a weakness.”

  “Not everything,” said Dorian with a wink and a smirk, quivering his wings behind him.

  I shook my head. “Everything. Even Watchers can’t beat death at the hand of my blade. And we’ve seen what it can do to someone like me. So, no. Nothing is forever. Except for maybe God.”

  Dorian seemed to shiver for a second, his wings lightly fluttering behind him. He rolled his head around in circles, his neck cracking like snapping two-by-fours.

  “So, the medium,” I began.

  “What about her?”

  “Something she said. That my father is hiding something about my mother’s past.”

  “A lot of good that does you when you don’t even know who he is.”

  I nodded in agreement, trying my best to look convincing.

  “For sake of argument, let’s say I find out who he is. What kind of things do you think he would keep from me? I mean, I thought I knew everything already. And what about what the medium said about a friend with a secret unleashing Hell? Was that figurative hell or literal Hell?”

  “I thought you didn’t have friends,” said Dorian, playfully raising an eyebrow.

  I chuckled. “Well, I don’t. Unless I include you and Grace.” I suddenly went silent. “Grace?”

  Dorian’s eyes narrowed. “Grace? You think she’s the one with the secret?”

  “Heck if I know. But if it’s her, I need to find out what it is. Mina made it sound like its implications could be catastrophic.”

  “Big words for someone like you,” said Dorian, trying to hide a smirk.


  “Should I talk slower? So, you can understand?”

  Dorian chuckled at my shade attempt. He bent down and snagged the broom from the floor and went back to sweeping.

  “We should talk to Grace. Maybe she knows something and doesn’t even know it,” I said. “Maybe we missed something that night she was beaten up by Naberius’s thugs.”

  “I guess it’s possible.” Dorian didn’t even look up, instead keeping his attention solely on his sweeping duties. “But are you sure it’s Grace?”

  “Well, the only other friends I have are you and Sean. And Sean is dead. So, that leaves you.” I folded my arms across my chest and stared at him until he stopped what he was doing and acknowledged my presence. “Do you have something to tell me?”

  Dorian raised an eyebrow. “I think you’re selling yourself short. You have other friends. Don’t forget Arna. And Rami. It could be one of them.”

  My head fell back for a second and I closed my eyes, a slow wheezing noise coming from the back of my throat.

  “Great. I’ve spent most of my life trying to avoid having friends. Now I remember why.” I blew out a long, slow gust of air. “Back to square one.”

  “What about Sean?”

  “What about him?”

  “Sean could be the one with the secret.”

  “He’s dead.”

  “I know he’s dead. But maybe he had a secret that he took with him to the grave.”

  “Doubtful.”

  “You don’t think he kept secrets from you?”

  I thought back to the Badlands battlefield when Lillith had spoken to me after her death, filling me in on Sean’s secret desire to commit suicide. If there had been more, she would have told me.

  “I’m sure he did. But you’ll have to trust me when I say I’m fairly certain I know all his deep, dark secrets. It’s not him.”

  Dorian paused and shrugged.

  “So, what’s the deal with the bird?” asked Dorian.

  “The bird?” I asked.

  “Yeah. You said you thought you recognized that falcon at Mina’s trailer. How does someone recognize a bird?”