Frost Fire (Tortured Elements) (22 page)

“You’re that powerful?” she said quietly.

“Yeah.”

“Good.” She rested her cheek on his shoulder and flicked her gaze away from his. “That way, if I get out of control again, you can destroy my mind before I hurt anyone.”

He snarled. It took him a few moments to get his voice back under control and say, “You know I’d never do that.”

“Promise me,” she murmured. Allai looked up at him, her eyes wide and pleading. “You know it’s the right thing to do, Drake. No one should have to die just because I can’t control myself. If I lose it like that again, you have to erase my mind before I do any damage. Promise me. Please.”

He could never do that. He
would
never do that. How could he survive if he knew that Allai didn’t remember him, if she didn’t even know who he was? He wasn’t about to make her forget everything right when he’d gotten everything straightened out with her.

Drake started to shake his head, but then saw her expression. It was so sincere. He’d never seen her look like that before; completely serious, without that overly trusting and hopeful look she usually had.

He nodded. “Yeah, little Nox. I promise.”

She smiled, the expression less hesitant this time, and she pressed herself closer. Drake rested his cheek on top of her head and sighed. He hoped she didn’t hear the guilty tone in the sigh. And he hoped she didn’t know how terrible he was at keeping promises.

Drake slammed on the brakes. “Jackass,” he muttered at the car that had just cut him off. He could crush that car, if he wanted to. It was just one of those tiny hybrid things.

But he wouldn’t crush it. Because he liked his truck’s paintjob the way it was, and because he didn’t want to wake the girl. Every time he slammed the brakes, he kept glancing at her, waiting for her to stir. But she was fast asleep beside him and completely oblivious to the traffic jam they were stuck in.

He drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, and tried to focus on the steady pattering sound it made. That sound was steady, almost soothing. Everything else around him was hectic: The honking of horns, the squealing of brakes, the thudding of Allai’s heartbeat. He didn’t like how slow her heart was beating; he didn’t remember it beating so slowly when she slept.

Drake punched at the radio’s power button. It switched on and spat out some garbled static. He turned the volume down, and then tuned it to the first music station he could find. A rock station.

Damn, he hated rock music. It was what Dad had always listened to. He’d said it was ‘soothing’. Drake remembered thinking once that Dad must be crazy if he found blaring guitars and crashing drums ‘soothing’. It was only a little while after that Drake realized how completely accurate his assumption had been.

Drake quickly changed the station, tuning the radio until the speakers started playing classical music. Much better. He still wasn’t sure if he actually liked classical music, or if he just liked listening to the exact opposite of Dad’s music.

“What the hell is that
noise
?”

It was the girl’s voice. She was mumbling into the seat, making her words all muffled and cute-sounding.

“It’s music,” Drake replied. He inched the truck forward a few feet and continued drumming his fingers against the wheel.

Allai looked up and yawned. She had red lines running across her face from the corduroy fabric of the seat. “That’s not music,” she grumbled. “That’s…
torture
.”

He smirked. “It’s classical. Everyone is supposed to appreciate classical.”

“There’s something wrong with you.” Her lip lifted into the tiniest of smiles, and he knew she was teasing him. “With your books, and your boring job, and you ‘appreciating’ music. It’s just wrong.”

He opened his mouth to retort. But the words fell away as Allai slid closer to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. She rested her cheek on his shoulder. Her skin was cooler than his, but somehow it managed to make him feel warm all over. Allai let out a tiny sigh.

What did that sigh mean? His stomach did a flip. Was she upset? He bit at his lip, wondering what he should do if she was upset.

Or maybe the sigh meant she was content. That’d be good. Wouldn’t it?

“Relax,” Allai murmured. “You’re always so tense.”

“Sorry,” he muttered. “I’m just not used to… you know. Contact.”

That was a lie. The truth was, he was totally accustomed to contact. And to dodging it, and running from it, and to curling up in a ball and holding back tears when he didn’t run fast enough. Because contact always came with pain.

Except for when the contact came from the girl. Her touch was always so gentle, like she knew about all those punches and kicks he’d endured, and like she was trying to make up for them.

Allai didn’t respond. For a moment, he thought he might have said something wrong. But then he felt the girl go limp.

He tore his gaze off the road and looked down. Allai was staring out the window, but her gaze was blank, and her head had lolled to the side. He listened for her heartbeat; it was there, but slow and faint.

“Come on, little Nox.” He let go of the steering wheel and shook Allai’s shoulders. “Wake up. Wake up!”

She groaned. Drake shook her a little harder, and she blinked a couple times. It took a moment for her eyes to focus on him.

“Did I…” She trailed off and frowned.

“You fainted again.” He tried to keep his voice from sounding panicked. He couldn’t panic, not in front of her. But this just wasn’t normal; it was the third time he’d seen her faint in a matter of days.

Horns started honking around him. Drake looked ahead, and realized the traffic jam was opening up. He took a deep breath and eased the truck forward.

“Open the window,” Allai said. She tore away from him and moved over to the passenger side of the truck.

“What?”

“Just open the window.” She leaned her forehead against the glass, like it might get the message across better.

Drake pressed the button on the dashboard, and the passenger window rolled down. Allai leaned her head out and gagged a couple times. Drake looked away, giving her at least a little privacy while she threw up.

His own stomach twisted as he listened to her coughs and gags. It struck him that she hadn’t eaten since early yesterday. Could that be the reason she was fainting and throwing up? He muttered a curse under his breath. He should have made sure she ate more; he should have taken better care of her.

Allai drew her head back in and curled into a fetal position.

“You okay, little Nox?” Drake asked quietly.

She responded with a tiny whimper. That sound drove little shards of ice into Drake’s lungs. He couldn’t breathe. His hand balled into a fist, and he looked around for something to punch. Because he’d failed. Allai was miserable and in pain, but he still couldn’t seem to do anything right.

Allai started shaking, and Drake forced himself to breathe again. He had to at least try to do
something
. “Just hang on, little Nox. Okay?”

She didn’t give a reply, and it wasn’t like Drake had really been expecting one. But that didn’t stop panic from hammering through his veins. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the pre-paid cell phone.

Tanner picked up after the third ring. “Martin’s residen—”

“It’s me, Tanner,” Drake snapped.

“Drake. Are you alright? Why did you hang up on me yesterday?”

“I’ll explain that later.” Drake took a deep breath. “Look, the girl is sick, and I need some answers.”

“Caedes Mages don’t get sick, Drake. They have natural immunity to diseases.”

“Trust me, Tanner, she’s sick.” Drake took a moment to flip off some guy in a sportscar who’d tried to cut him off. The guy honked back, and Drake growled under his breath. “She’s shaking, and she just threw up.”

“Does she have a fever?” Tanner asked.

Drake set the phone down and reached over to the girl. He pressed his palm against her forehead. It was cool. No, not cool. Her skin was cold, as if she’d been dunked in ice water. He held his breath and listened for her heartbeat. Her pulse was steady, although he could barely hear it over his own pounding heart.

He fumbled for the phone and said, “She definitely doesn’t have a fever. Her skin is cold. Tanner, what’s going on?”

There was a pause. “Drake,” Tanner finally asked, “has she been fainting lately?”

He swallowed hard. The sportscar tried to cut him off again, and this time Drake let him. He didn’t even bother flipping the guy off. “Yeah.” Drake tried to keep his tone even, but he failed miserably. “Yeah. She’s been fainting.”

Tanner sighed, and Drake could hear the defeat in his tone. He almost slammed the phone down right then. Because he didn’t want to hear what Tanner was about to say. He didn’t want to hear that there was something wrong with the girl.

“It sounds to me like her spell is splintering,” Tanner said.

Drake tried to take a deep breath, but he just choked on it. “What does that mean?”

“You said someone put a spell over her to hide her true species. I think that spell is breaking apart. Has she performed any magic recently?”

“Yeah,” Drake said. He decided not to tell Tanner the whole story, about the girl almost killing those people. Tanner wouldn’t take that well.

“Then it’s definitely splintering. She wouldn’t be able to perform magic if a spell like that was still intact.”

“What do you mean it’s ‘splintering’?” Drake demanded.

“It’s breaking apart. If her Caedes powers are maturing, then they’d slowly break down the spell. But spells like those aren’t made to just fade away. It’s fighting back. Drake, that spell is going to kill her.”

Drake waited to feel horror. Maybe terror. But there was nothing but a seething numbness spreading all through him. Drake looked over to the girl. She was still curled into a fetal position, looking helpless and broken.

“Can you repeat that, Tanner?” Drake asked. His voice came out as a croak. “I mean… Just repeat the last thing you said. I don’t think I heard you right.”

Tanner sighed. “She’s dying, Drake.”

“She can’t die,” he whispered. “Tanner, she can’t just die.”

Maybe if he repeated those words enough, it’d make everything better. Or maybe it’d at least keep him numb. Because now that horror and terror was starting to creep into his veins, and he didn’t know how to stop it. His throat felt tight, and his hand clenched the steering wheel too tightly, and his lungs couldn’t get enough air.

“There is one way to stop the splintering,” Tanner said.

Why did Tanner still sound so defeated when he said that? There was a way to cure the girl. There was a chance she’d survive. He should sound hopeful, not defeated.

“What is it?” Drake asked. “How can I save her?”

“You can’t do a thing, Drake. Only the person who originally cast the spell on her can stop the splintering. If they reverse the spell, then she should be okay.”

“Good,” Drake said. “Then I’ll just make sure her parent undoes the spell, and she’ll be fine.”

“Do you even know who her parent is?”

No. He didn’t have a clue who her parent was. But whoever they were, he knew he wanted to hurt them. And hurt them bad. They’d cast this damn spell on her, revealed her to the Sentinel, and hadn’t even bothered to raise her. No, they’d done the opposite of raising her: They’d handed her over to Rhaize, and then to Shieldak.

“I’m going to find her parent,” Drake said. “I’ll get them to reverse the spell.”

Then he’d get revenge.

“Drake, you know that’s practically impossible,” Tanner said. “Her parent is going to be in hiding.”

Drake glanced over to the girl. She was looking up at him, her eyes wide and scared. “I don’t care if it’s impossible,” he murmured. “I’m going to do it. I can’t just let her die.”

Tanner sighed. “And what about Rhaize? He’ll still be hunting you.”

“I’ll handle Rhaize,” Drake said.

“And getting her back to headquarters? Can you do that and find her parent at the same time?”

“I said I’ll handle it, Tanner,” he snapped.

There was a small pause, and Drake could almost picture Tanner shaking his head back and forth. “You can’t handle everything, Drake.”

“I’ll do whatever I need to. Just as long as it saves the girl.”

Everything hurt. Her limbs, her chest, her face. Allai was pretty sure her eyes also hurt, but that might have just been from the steady flow of tears streaming down her face. She didn’t want to cry, but she couldn’t help it. The pain was too much.

She kept her eyes shut and her fingers clenched around the lockgem in her hand. Every time she’d drifted off, she’d woken in a panic when she hadn’t immediately felt the lockgem. That wasn’t going to happen again. She wasn’t going to let go of the lockgem until someone forced it out of her hand.

It had become oddly precious, in a morbid sort of way. If anyone else got ahold of it, they could kill Drake. And she wasn’t about to let that happen. She’d keep Drake and the lockgem safe.

“You need to eat something,” Drake said softly from beside her.

Just hearing those words made her stomach churn. Bile rose in the back of her throat, and she bit her lip to keep any more from coming up. She pressed her face against the seat, and curled up into a tighter ball.

Drake sighed and muttered something. She heard the clicking of his turning signal, and felt the truck start to shift to the right. That was enough to make her peek an eye open and glance out the window. Drake was taking an exit off the highway.

“What are you doing?” She hated the way her voice sounded. It was raw and scratchy from crying, and so weak it was barely above a whisper. “We need to keep driving, Drake. We need to get to Idaho.”

That was what she just kept telling herself. They had to get to Idaho. They were going to get there, and she was going to get the political immunity, and then she’d find her parent and get them to reverse the spell. It’d all happen, in that order, and everything would turn out fine.

But no matter how many times she repeated that plan, it still felt hollow. It was like when she was younger, and she used to tell herself that she’d grow up to be the strongest Sentinel Warrior there ever was. She’d repeat that to herself hundreds of times, but she still knew it was nothing but a dream.