A Strange Fire (Florence Vaine) (31 page)

 “Flo and I are tight,” says Layla, but her phrasing goes right over
Blanche’s head.

 “Yeah, w-we are,” I add. “We’ll just be upstairs packing some things and
then we’re going to head off before it gets too late.”

 “Right you are,” says Gran, teacup in hand, and Blanche seems a small
bit perplexed at how easily Gran gave me permission. Actually, I’m a little
confused about that too, but I’m not going to question it since the outcome is
the one I’d been hoping for.

 It takes me only a few minutes to pack a couple days’ worth of clothes
and something to wear to bed. All I need to do is grab my toiletries bag and
I’m all set. Back in the car, Layla tells us that she’s planning a surprise
party for Ross’ 18th in the farmhouse on Friday night, so we’d better keep our
schedules free and buy him a present.

 It’s not long before we’re back and Layla disappears off to find Ross,
while Frank brings me to the kitchen where he dishes up some of the leftover
spaghetti for us. We eat in silence for a minute or two before John pops his
head in the door and asks Frank if he can have a quick word with him.

 “I’ll be right back,” he tells me, and then I’m alone.

 The curtains aren’t pulled on the big glass sliding doors that lead out
the back, and I find myself staring out into the stark blackness. My skin goes
all tingly and cold as I think of the things that might be staring right back
at me under the cover of darkness. Vampires. Werewolves. Witches.
Cannibal
witches.
It’s odd, but I haven’t actually thought so much about that aspect of my first
dream. It’s obvious why they do it. Eat human flesh. Not only do they suck the
magic and life out of their victims, but they also eat what’s leftover. Not
allowing an ounce to go to waste. More monsters than witches really, that’s
what they truly are.

 “How are you feeling, Flo?” asks Sam, appearing from behind me out of
nowhere.

 “You need to try leaving the Guidance Counsellor p-persona at school,” I
say, tired of how Sam continually tries to get me to deal with how I’m handling
things. I eat a forkful of spaghetti.

 “It was a general question, just wondering how you’re coping with all
this. You know, in there,” he says, and taps me on the forehead. His touch
feels like a fresh gust of air sweeping over my skin. It makes me feel eased in
some way, and I’m so comfortable with Sam sometimes that I’m not inhibited to
speak candidly.

 “I’m coping with it the way any seventeen year old girl would be –
scared shitless.”

 Sam laughs, light and tinkling. “At least you’re honest. But you’ve no
cause to be frightened. John’s asked me to stay here at the house for extra
protection in case the coven moves to attack. He’s not convinced that you’re
the one they’re after. You see, there’s a lot more magic in a demon than there
is in a psychic human. Unless these witches are specifically interested in
gaining your particular ability, they’re going to set their sights on the boys.
It’ll give them a bigger pay out.”

 “This is all so confusing,” I say, turning back to my food, but it
doesn’t taste so good any more.

 Sam places a hand on my forearm. “It’ll get easier,” he says, ice blue
eyes boring into me.

 His beauty is kind of breath taking. The moment is broken when Frank
returns and Sam rises, gliding silently out of the room. Frank watches Sam
leave, with a look of perplexity on his face. Then he sits down and we finish
eating.

 “W-what did John want?” I ask, to distract him from the intense thoughts
I can see tumbling through his head.

 Frank takes a moment to answer, he even looks a little embarrassed. “He
was telling me to stay away from your room tonight if I know what’s good for
me.”

 “Oh,” I say in a tiny voice, but the awkward tension is thankfully
broken when Hayley comes and takes me upstairs to show me where I’ll be
sleeping.

The guest bedroom is tidy and spacious, with an en suite and everything.
I feel like I’m staying at a hotel. One time I had to stay with a friend of my
dad’s for a week when he’d gone away on some trip, he never told me where he
was going. Anyway, the place where he left me smelled of unwashed dog and
cigarette smoke.
That
was certainly not like staying at a hotel. I count
my blessings I’m in better company these days.

 I drop my two bags down at the foot of the bed. Hayley tells me to feel
free to use the shower before she leaves. The suggestion makes me aware of just
how grimy I feel after my eventful day, so I take her up on the offer. The hot
water and soap soothes my tension filled muscles and bones, and I almost feel
whole again once I’m done.

 When I’m out I get into some shorts and a string top for bed after I’ve
towel dried my hair. I pull my homework books from my bag and bring them into
bed with me, because I’m too tired to sit up at the desk. I snuggle under the
duvet, and try my best to get my work done without falling asleep.

 After about an hour I hear a gentle knock on the door. I glance at the
clock on the wall, it’s ten thirty five. Maybe Hayley’s come to give me more
fresh towels or something. But when I open the door I find Frank standing
there, wearing lounge pants and a t-shirt. He leans in the gap, but I make sure
my body is blocking him from coming in. I hesitate.

 “What are you d-d-doing here?” I whisper, remembering John’s
instructions that Frank stay away from my room.

 “Couldn’t resist,” he grins, stepping past me and inside, his body
brushes off mine as he does so. I work hard to keep my composure. He shuts the
door behind him.

 Frank stares at me as I stand back against the wall, unnervingly conscious
of how little I’m wearing. His eyes wander over me, and I feel every second of
it, as they travel from my bare shoulders down to my legs.

 “Y-you should go before you g-get into trouble,” I stammer, nerves
building up in my chest and heat in my cheeks. Jesus. Frank smiles and his gaze
drifts over to the bed, where my books are scattered and splayed open on top of
the rumpled duvet.

 “You need any help with your homework?” he asks, ignoring my warning and
going over to sit on the bed.

 “N-no, I’m finished now,” I tell him snappily, and go to gather up my
books. Frank watches with amusement as I put them into my bag and spend too
much time zipping it all the way back up. When I’m finished I just stand there
in the middle of the room, not knowing how to deal with this boy, this man, in
my room, with heat in his eyes.

 “A-and since I’m finished I don’t need any help, so I d-don’t know why
you’re still here,” my voice is unnecessarily cold, but it’s the only way I can
think of getting rid of him. It doesn’t work though, Frank completely
disregards what I’ve said and grabs my hand, pulling me down onto the bed with
him.

 “I can’t lie next door all night, listening to you
breathe
,” he
whispers. “It will drive me crazy.”

 He leans over me, and my whole body suddenly turns into a pool of
powerless liquid. Every time Frank’s skin comes into contact with mine I’m
overwhelmed to the point of dizziness. His lips make contact with the hollow of
my neck, and that’s when my nerves break down and something else takes over.

 Frank’s hands kneed into the cushion of my hips with urgency, and I sigh
into his chest. His fingers trace the bottom of my top before pushing it up and
lifting it over my head. He has my bra unclipped a moment later and something
very close to bashfulness takes shape on his face as his eyes trace over me. I
feel like I’m inside of a dream where my usual anxieties don’t exist, and it
helps me to forget that I’m lying in bed with a boy with next to no clothes on.
The situation is foreign to me in so many ways.

 Frank’s eyes gaze down at me from under hooded lids. “You’re beautiful,”
he breathes, and my heart catches, skips a beat.

 Tentatively I reach up and press my lips to his, which causes a quick
gush of breath to leave his mouth. His left hand slides down my leg and rests
at the back of my knee. One finger traces back and forth, and I barely
recognise myself as I make a little sound of pleasure at his touch.

 “This is – difficult,” he tells me in a low voice, lips quickly finding
mine again as he begins to kiss me with a desperate fierceness. I open my eyes
and flames consume me. I close them again, because Frank’s colours are too much
to take. Even with them closed I can feel the need in him. His need for me. The
thought lingers in my brain, shocking me out of my bliss.

 I jolt away from him a little. His huge, deep blue eyes search me with a
vulnerability that literally makes my heart stop beating. It’s at this moment
that I realise he’s giving himself to me in a way he’s never done with anyone
else before. I want him, but I’m not ready. And I’m still so unsure. Unsure of
the purity of his feelings. I wriggle up from underneath him and lean back
against the head board.

 “Have you ever wondered whether the only reason you like me so much is
because I calm you, the way I can quieten what’s inside of you?” I ask, my
words come out like an insecure whine. I actually dislike myself for being so
fickle, for needing so much to be reassured, but I can’t seem to contain the
feeling.

 Frank’s smile blows me away. “You really can’t see yourself the way I
see you, Florence,” he tells me in a low voice, fingers still stroking behind
my knee. It’s a good thing I’m not standing up. I’d surely lose my balance.

 “And no, I liked you the first moment I saw you, it was only when we sat
together in Business that first day that I realised the effect you had on me.
You need to be very close for me to feel it, on the other side of a room or at
the opposite end of a hallway I wouldn’t feel a thing. I think it was your eyes
that hooked me. When I heard you stammer in class I felt like beating the hell
out of anyone who even looked at you the wrong way. Every time I see you I just
want to touch you, feel your skin, your hair, your lips. And that instinct is
all mine, it’s my demon that you calm, but me, well I wouldn’t exactly say you
calm me so much as you excite me,” and he leans back into me, I can barely
think when his lips touch mine.

 I break the kiss, breathless and burning all over. “You really should go
back to your room now Frank,” I say.

 “Let me sleep here,” he replies, kissing his way down my neck.

 I try to pull away a little, creating some space between us. “I-I
c-can’t do – that.” I tell him, hoping to God he knows what I’m getting at, so
I don’t have to explain further.

 At this he sits up, kneeling before me. “When I said
sleep
I
actually meant
sleep
. I want to hold you Flo, I promise, just that,
nothing else.”

 I shift in the bed and grab my top, pulling it back on over my head.
“Okay then, you can stay.” I tell him, and he crawls over me to lie by my side.

 I lower my head down to the pillow and close my eyes. We don’t touch for
several minutes, but then Frank puts an arm around my waist and pulls me into
him, his palm spread out flat on the surface of my belly. A long time passes,
while we both lie there, quiet and peaceful.

 Frank continues to hold me, and I can’t be certain, perhaps it was a
dream, but I have a vague memory of him stroking my hair and whispering, “I
love you Florence Vaine.”

The rest of the week is a blur of activity. I get lots of homework so I
end up spending most of my evenings labouring through that. It helps to occupy
my mind so that I’m not fretting over my possibly imminent death at the hands
of a group of black magic using witches. Frank doesn’t come to stay in my room
again. I think that’s because John somehow discovered he’d spent the first
night with me.

 There seemed to be a tension between him and Frank the next morning. I
sat at the breakfast table, silently chewing, cheeks burning under John’s
watchful eyes. He’s one of those parents who always knows when their child has
gone against their wishes, even when they don’t tell them up front.

 On Thursday night I have another dream, although it’s not as sinister as
the previous ones. Actually, it’s more of a memory that plays out in my head
than a proper dream, from the time when I’d been in the psychiatric hospital
and the old man had come after me. The scene is all blurred and topsy turvy,
but that’s just my sleeping mind messing things up. In the dream I’m the nurse,
watching the whole thing play out, I hear the man’s words resonate through my
head.

 You! Girl! You’re who she wants!

 She drained me! Drained me because of you!

 You! It’s all your fault!

 The memory makes me shiver in recollection of the fear he instilled in
me. A little old man. It makes me realise that anyone can be frightening with
the right amount of crazed determination. Understanding dawns soon after that.
The patient’s outburst hadn’t been random at all. Not a symptom of his illness,
but a direct result of being drained by the witch who’s been stalking me. It
would be far too much of a coincidence for it not to have been her who’d done
something awful to that poor man. Most likely she’s the reason he ended up in
the hospital.

 But why would she have drained a substantial amount of the life force of
an ordinary old man? She’d taken almost everything from him, leaving him
absolutely devoid of any aura or inner workings. Unless he’d been supernatural.
But that’s highly unlikely. Perhaps she can drain energy from regular people
too, but it just doesn’t give the same kind of power return as the life force
of a supernatural. I can’t figure it out yet, so I sigh and move on.

 Before I know it it’s Friday evening and I’m stood in the men’s section
of the local pharmacy, trying to pick out an aftershave set for Ross’ birthday
present. In the end I buy the one the shop assistant recommends before hurrying
back to the farmhouse.

 I don’t have very many party clothes, so I just wear the white cotton
dress I bought the other week with some tights and black boots. Layla has made
sure Alex and Frank keep Ross away from the house until eight o’clock when the
party is due to begin. They’re quite an enclosed family though, so the only outsiders
attending are Sam and myself. But I suppose when you aren’t normal the way
these boys aren’t normal, you tend to shy away from socialising with the larger
population.

 I’m sure it won’t be a surprise when I say that I’m extremely awkward in
social situations like parties. It seems to me that when you’re under the
obligation to have a good time, you more often than not won’t. Just seeing the
balloons and banners Layla and Hayley have hung up on the walls makes my
stomach churn with memories of standing in corners, with nothing to say to a
bunch of people I don’t even like. Or being a child and hiding under the table
with a paper plate full of sweets because I know there is something just plain
wrong about the whole situation, so I take myself out of it and go hide.

 But I like these people. So this really shouldn’t be like all those
other times, when I was forced to go to the birthday parties of my dad’s
friend’s kids where I didn’t know anyone. I’ve always considered children’s
parties an excuse for adults to get drunk under the guise of doing something
special for their child. I know my dad had always exploited that idea anyway.

 Frank, Alex and Ross haven’t arrived yet when I go into the kitchen,
where everybody else has assembled. Layla paces back and forth, looking
nervous. She must really love Ross, because nervousness was never a trait I
would have associated with her. She wants everything to be just perfect for
him. After I’ve placed my present with all the others on the counter I go and
stand by Sam at the table where there’s an impressive spread of finger foods
set out.

 Sam stands quietly at my side, while everyone else talks excitedly in
hushed tones, all preparing themselves to give a huge shout of “Surprise!” when
Ross comes in.

 “I think the head witch, or whatever she calls herself, can drain life
force from all humans, not just supernatural ones.” I say to Sam in a low
voice, not wanting the others to hear and bring down the tone of the party.

 “It’s possible,” he answers. “What made you think of that?”

 “John told you about what happened to me that day he nearly knocked me
down, at the hospital, I mean.”

 “Yes, he did mention that. A psychiatric patient tried to attack you.”

 “I d-don’t think he had a mental illness, I think the head witch drained
him without killing him. Maybe for a fill of energy to tide her over until she
c-comes for us. He was shouting things at me like, “She drained me” that must
have meant
something
.”

 Sam lets out a long breath. “You are forever complicating matters for us
Flo,” but his eyes twinkle a little with reserved mischief, so I know he
doesn’t mind so much.

 Then Ross and the others finally arrive and we turn off the lights when
we hear them turn the key in the door. For those few seconds in the dark I feel
sort of comfortable. If I was alone I’d be frightened, but because I’m with
people who are good to me I feel safe. We all shout “Surprise!” and Ross feigns
shock. I can tell he had an inkling there was going to be a party for him. It’s
always obvious when people try to keep you away from the house unnecessarily
when normally you’d be at home.

 Music plays in the background as we eat the party food and laugh and
talk and some of the boys play a game of twister, which is quite kiddish and
reminds me of just how young we all are when it comes down to it. We may like
to act like adults because the things we have to deal with are so far away from
childhood, but we still have a long way to go yet.