A Strange Fire (Florence Vaine) (36 page)

 I look at Ross again and my heart aches for him. His energy is so little
now, a tiny scrap trying its hardest to pull through. He’s lost so much blood.
It had been all over the robes of the witches. What on earth had they been
doing to him? Frantically, I try to think of some way to save Ross, but I just
can’t imagine any way I might be able to overpower this woman.

 In urgent situations my mind usually presents me with an absolute blank.
But something actually comes to me. It will be an experiment, however it can’t
hurt to try. I look straight into the depths of the witch’s aura. Allowing my
eyes, my head and my mind to travel deep into her screwed up energy. She just
sits there and watches me, too cocky and sure of herself to bother to do
anything about me. The real threat to her is inside with the Nephilim, John,
Frank and Alex. I’m just a weak human girl, what damage can I do?

 I’ve never tried this before with only the power of my mind, mostly I
need to touch an aura to manipulate a person’s feelings. Needless to say, it’s
an absolute shock when my experiment actually works. I let myself get lost in
her wickedness and hate and malice. I take those traits and exchange them for
pure terror. The witch begins to shake and I can tell by her eyes that she
can’t understand the sudden change in her mental state. I make her feel it to
the core of her bones that I’m the most terrifying thing she has ever seen.

 Slowly she rises from the chair, her body visibly shaking as her eyes widen
and her lip quivers. I take a step forward into the room and she practically
jumps away from me, her body moulded to the back wall. I wonder if I should
take advantage of her fear, her vulnerability. I’ve never taken the life of
another before, but I could probably end this woman without much in the way of
guilt. The only thing stopping me is the thought of leaving her little boy
without a mother. If there’s no father on the scene then the poor little thing
will be left alone in the world. No matter how evil his mother might be, I
would never wish that on him.

 Although I might not have turned out as damaged as I am if I had of been
a ward of the state, and that’s saying something. Sometimes no parent at all is
better than one who’s a vindictive, sociopathic addict. I stare at the woman as
she jitters in her own skin. I made her fear me like nothing she’s ever feared
before. It’s a heady feeling not being the victim for once.

 “Please....don’t, don’t hurt me,” she pleads as tears stream down her
face.

 “Just get out of here,” I tell her. “Runaway and never come back,” and
then I step aside as she flees the room. The second she’s gone I rush over to
Ross and kneel by him on the floor. Hesitantly I lift the dirty cloth that’s
covering him.

 Oh God.

 His aura is only a small, small light. The flames just about to be blown
out. His trouser leg has been ripped open and half of his calf has been eaten
away. I hold my arm across my stomach to keep the bile from rising up. I heave
once and then it settles. His left arm looks as though the skin has been peeled
away bit by bit, layers of skin have been shredded off, leaving red muscle and
veins and subcutaneous jelly exposed. His stomach has been destroyed, I can’t
bear to look at it. I touch my hand to his weak flames and visualise life and
energy infusing them. He opens his eyes halfway.

 “Florence...” he says in the smallest voice I’ve ever heard.

 I rub my hand over his forehead and then over his hair to comfort him.
“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” I say in a soothing voice. “Everything’s g-going to
be all right.”

 He closes his eyes and then opens them again. “They – they said it would
be better if they ate while I was still alive.”

 Disbelief colours his expression, as though he can’t understand how all
this has happened to him. As if something so bizarre could only be a nightmare.
Panic sets in as I try to decide what action to take, but before I can make a
choice a loud wailing noise pierces my ear drums, it’s coming from the main
room.

 “I have to check on the others, I’ll be right back,” I say to him and
run outside. When I make it into the main part of the basement, I’m struck by
the sight of the nurse as she is caught by the light of the brown haired
Nephilim. The last thing I focus on are her insane eyes before her body turns
into a pool of sludge on the floor. Diana is suspended in mid-air as Sam and
the other half Angel stand on either side of her, caging her in a circle of
barely visible energy.

 “Let me down!” she demands, her arms and hands moving rapidly, making
strange gestures like Satanic sign language.

 “Your magic won’t work anymore,” the brown haired Nephilim tells her.
“So you can quit trying.”

 “You’ll regret this, believe me,” says Diana, but her voice is more
desperate now, the realisation that she’s been defeated, that her coven has
just been massacred, is finally sinking in.

 Sam and the Nephilim circle her with their hands outspread, their weapon
of light forms into a thick incandescent rope that closes in on her, tightening
around her body. Her neck.

 “Stop. Please. Wait. Don’t do this. We can make a deal,” her words
stream out in a manic flow of desperation.

 But the Nephilim don’t listen to her as she begs and pleads for them to
spare her. She promises them the world, but still they have no interest in her
pathetic plea. I think of poor Lauren, and of all those werewolf teens that she
killed, and a sense of justice, a concept I thought didn’t exist up until this
moment, overwhelms me. The rope keeps spiralling around her until she is
completely drowned by it. And then, it seems like a bit of an anti-climax when
she simply disappears.

 “Where did she go?” I ask breathlessly, running up to them.

 “We sent her somewhere she can be dealt with by a higher authority,”
says Sam. “But don’t worry, her punishment will be of the most agonising
variety, death would have been far too kind for such a monster as her.”

 I go to John and take his hand in mine. “John,” I say, “I was wrong
a-about Ross. Diana lied to me, he isn’t dead. I found him in the other room.
He’s in a very bad state though.”

 The hope, relief and happiness that comes from him is immense.

 “Take me to him,” is all he says. I nod and lead the way, Frank comes
with us, taking my hand as we walk.

After that I sleep for a very long time. Frank takes me back to Gran’s
house where we find Layla drowsy but recovering from Diana’s magic in my room.
He carries her to the car where he drives her back to the farmhouse. John and
Alex went straight there with Ross to treat his injuries and see to his health,
making sure the witches didn’t leave him with any infections or long term
illnesses. Although, since Ross is demon possessed he’ll heal quickly, so his
leg, arm, and stomach shouldn’t cause him too much pain.

 I stay at Gran’s, too exhausted to do anything else but crawl into bed
in my clothes and fall into a deep, deep slumber. Sam and the two Nephilim,
whose names I learned are Carol, the black haired one, a strange name for a
man, and Nathan, the brown haired one, stay behind to clean up the mess at the
hospital. I wonder what they’ll do with Gran’s body, but I don’t have the
mental capacity to delve too much into that thought.

 I don’t wake up until well into the afternoon the next day, my eyes
crusted with sleep. The first thing I do is go into the bathroom to look in the
mirror and see how I’m recovering from Diana’s draining. I really am maturing.
Before I could never look into my own aura without feeling a horrible sense of
self-consciousness, and a certain level of self-hatred. Now I’m relieved to see
my strange colours, shining like they always do. Too bright, but I don’t mind
so much anymore.

 In my toiletries bag I find my reliable old pill bottle sitting nestled
between my toothpaste and shampoo. Out of habit I unscrew it and go to take
one. Then I stop and remember that promise I made to myself. The one to get rid
of these tablets and quit relying on medication to get over my anxieties. I
think of all the things I’ve been through this past week, all of the things
I’ve survived, and all of it I did without taking one single pill.

 I don’t need these and I never want to turn into Dad. So I pick up the
bottle, tip it over, and spill the contents down the toilet. I lift my hand and
push down the flusher. A sense of relief and empowerment fills me up. No more
temptations, and I was brave enough to do away with them all. That’s the first
step to recovery.

 For a moment I turn around and tell myself I’ll go check on Gran, see
what she’s making for dinner. But then I remember she’s gone, and it hurts me
to my very soul. A knock sounds from the front door down stairs. Thinking it
could be Frank, I quickly run a brush through my hair and hurry down. But it’s
not Frank. I open the door to the grim faces of two police officers. They ask
me if they can come inside, and I nod without saying a word.

 The main point of their visit is to tell me that Gran’s body was found
in amid some debris in the forest outside of town. The Nephilim must have
dumped it there to cover up what happened in the basement of the hospital. It
was, after all, the only body intact after the struggle, the rest were hardly
recognisable as human flesh in the end.

 The officers leave out most of the details as to how Gran was murdered,
obviously not thinking it suitable for a young person to hear. It doesn’t
matter though, I saw her die with my own two eyes. I’ll never forget that.
Never. Then they go on to question me about the last time I saw Gran. I lie and
tell them it was when I got home the night before, and she’d been sitting
watching the news in the living room, then I’d gone up to bed and fallen
asleep.

 One of the policemen, the one with red hair and kind brown eyes, tells
me that they suspect Gran’s killer to be the same person who kidnapped and
murdered Lauren Stone. It was. They’re right on the money there, but I don’t
tell them that. I keep my mouth shut despite the fact that they’re going to set
out on a wild goose chase, since Diana is already long gone.

 “Was your grandmother your only family?” The red headed officer asks.
“Is there anyone we might call to come and get you?”

 I wonder whether I’d get away with it if I simply told them no, that
Gran was the only family I had. But I suppose they’ll figure out I’m lying in
the end, so I tell them, “My dad lives in Tribane, but he – he left me to live
here, and I d-don’t know his phone number.”

 I know the address of course, but I don’t mention it. Maybe if I give
them as little information as possible it will take them that much longer to
track him down. I need all the time I can get. I shudder at the thought of
being forced to move back to the city with Dad. Even though Gran’s not around
anymore I still want to stay here, in this house, the first place that’s ever
felt halfway like home to me.

 “That’s okay, just tell us his name and I’m sure we’ll be able to find
him for you.”

 “Is that absolutely necessary?” I ask. “I’ll be eighteen soon, I can
take care of myself.”

 The cop eyes me, wondering why I’m avoiding giving him Dad’s name.
“We’ll still need to contact him and inform him of your grandmother’s death,”
he says, in a stern but understanding voice.

 Disheartened I finally give in. “Terry Vaine.”

 The two policemen thank me and express their condolences before leaving
me alone in the silent house with only my own thoughts and fears for company.
After a while I grab a bite to eat and then go back to bed. I wake up later on
and it’s dark out. Somebody’s sitting on the edge of the bed stroking my hair.
Frank.

 “The police came earlier,” I tell him as I sit up, but he only nods as
though he already knows everything.

 “They’re going to call my dad and tell him about Gran,” I say in a
quivering voice. “Diana killed her. She’s gone, and now he’ll come here and
take me away. I don’t want that.”

 “If that happens you can come live with me in John’s house,” he says
finally. “Besides, once you’re eighteen he can’t make you do anything you don’t
want to. And if he tries he’ll have me to deal with.”

 I smile weakly and say thank you, before asking, “How is Ross? And
Layla?”

 “Ross is healing nicely. He’ll be right as rain come Monday, and Layla’s
just glad to have him back. She was disoriented for a while after I took her
back to the house, but she’s better now. And since Diana’s gone, I don’t think
her magic works any more. Any spells that she left behind will be obsolete
now.”

 This makes me think about what Diana said about putting a spell on Dad
that made him send me to live with Gran. Does this mean that the spell isn’t
working any more either, and that Dad would be coming looking for me anyway? I
think of him and how he used to be with me, his cruelty and his controlling
behaviour. I have to figure out how to get away from him if he does come for
me. I can’t go back to that life.

 Frank takes off his jacket and shoes and slips into bed with me. “Let’s
just be glad it’s all over now,” he whispers, cuddling me between his strong
arms. I make a noise of agreement and snuggle in. I trace my fingertips along
the raised letters of his tattoo, and his flames seem to welcome my touch.

 I read over the quote and I think I sort of get it.
You never know
what is enough unless you know what is more than enough
. The extremes of
the past few weeks have helped me to appreciate the simple things. Like lying
here in the arms of a boy who just might actually love me, and who I just might
actually love back.

 Living with Dad made me appreciate the calm and the peace of living with
Gran. She may have planned on exchanging me for getting her sight back, but I
still love her for what she did for me, even if her intentions weren’t entirely
selfless. She did good for me despite not exactly intending to, and if Diana
hadn’t told me the truth I would have mourned her for a long time. I suppose
knowing means I’m saved that heartbreak. I still miss her though. She was the maternal
presence I never had.