Frost Fire (Tortured Elements) (23 page)

And that was exactly what her plan was: Nothing but a stupid dream.

“We’re not going anywhere until you eat something,” Drake said.

The truck curved down the off-ramp, and Allai closed her eyes to try to block out her nausea. It didn’t help. Her stomach just churned harder, and Allai swallowed back more bile. “I’m not going to eat, Drake.”

“Yes, you are. It’s been an entire day since you’ve eaten. I don’t care if I have to shove it down your throat, little Nox. You’re going to eat.”

Drake tried to sound angry, but she could hear the worry in his voice. Allai couldn’t bring herself to protest. So she just gave a little nod, and pressed her knees closer to her chest.

A few minutes passed. Allai could feel the seconds ticking by as waves of pain pulsed through her. Then the truck slowed and gradually came to a stop. The window squeaked a little as it was rolled down, and she heard the static sound of an intercom.

“Fast food?” she mumbled to Drake. “Really?”

Drake ignored her. A couple moments later, a lady’s voice came over the intercom: “I’ll take your order when you’re ready.”

Drake ordered a double-cheeseburger and fries, and Allai thought she might punch him. Usually, she’d jump at the opportunity to eat a cheeseburger; one of the few things Luke and Shieldak had been able to agree on was that she wasn’t allowed to eat fast food. She’d hated that rule. But, right then, she completely understood it. Fast food sounded absolutely revolting.

“You’re an asshole,” Allai growled at Drake. “And I’m not eating that.”

“Your total comes to four fifty-eight,” the intercom-lady said. “You can pay at the first window. Have a nice day.”

“Too late for that,” Drake muttered back at the lady.

A couple minutes later, the truck was parked outside the fast food restaurant, and the nauseating smell of grease filled the air.

“Come on, little Nox,” Drake said. “You need to eat.”

“Just keep driving,” Allai mumbled. “I’ll eat later.”

He sighed. “You’re not going to make this easy, are you?”

Allai didn’t respond. She felt a little childish, but she just didn’t feel like arguing. Silence was the best answer.

They just sat there for a long moment, neither moving. Then Drake muttered an exasperated curse and slipped his arms under Allai, pulling her into his lap.

Her pain turned to agony as Drake moved her. But, just as she was about to protest, Drake wrapped his arms around her. He held her against him, and she could feel his steady heart beating against hers. She closed her eyes and listened to its swift rhythm, allowing the sound to lull her pain away.

She felt safe like this. Even if Rhaize was after her, and even if Shieldak wanted her dead, and even if she was doomed to die from that spell—she still felt safe with Drake this close. That fluttery feeling was back in her stomach, and it multiplied a hundred times as Drake ran his hand up and down the small of her back. She was pretty sure he was trying to be soothing, but he just made her breath catch in her throat.

“Relax,” he whispered in her ear. His breath was warm against her skin.

She breathed deeply, taking in his intoxicating, earthy scent. She wondered how Drake managed to fit into the Lux world; only a crazy person would think he wasn’t paranormal, even in his human form. Everything from his scent, to his golden eyes, to the strange grace he carried himself with was just… different. Or maybe ‘distinctive’ was a better word.

“So,” Drake murmured. “What am I going to have to do to make you eat?”

She smiled a little. He sounded so concerned; it would have been cute, if he wasn’t trying to force her to eat something. “You’re not going to get me to eat,” she said.

He went quiet for a moment, and she could picture him biting his lip. Then he said, “I’ll make you a deal. You get to ask me three questions. Any questions you want, and I’ll answer them truthfully. Once I answer them all, you have to eat.”

It was tempting. So many questions had built in her mind, and she thought her head might burst if she didn’t release some of them. Allai took a deep breath. “You said you can take away people’s memories,” she finally said. “So then why did you trust me to keep my memory? I mean, my memory of that night you… You know. Snuck into the Sentinel. I wouldn’t have been so afraid of you if you hadn’t trusted me to keep that memory.”

“It wasn’t because of trust,” he murmured. He sighed and then said, “Little Nox, I couldn’t have trusted you. I hardly knew you after all those years.”

She bit her lip. “So then why? Why’d you let me keep that memory?”

“Because I’m selfish.”

His words came out hushed, and Allai barely heard them. But she could still hear the regret in them.

“I wanted someone else to remember that night,” Drake murmured. “I thought I’d go crazy if I was the only one who remembered it. It’s just… that night was hell. And I know it was hell for you, too. So I figured that if you kept that memory, I wouldn’t be completely alone every time I remembered.”

“What happened that night, Drake?” Allai asked softly. “I mean, after my memory ends, and after what you showed me. What happened to you?”

He didn’t answer for a long moment. Silence settled over the truck, and all Allai could hear was their hearts beating together. Then Drake said, “I guess I said I’d answer anything, huh?”

“Yeah. You did.”

He took a deep breath. “This might hurt, little Nox.” He pressed his fingers against her cheek, and Allai knew he was getting ready to transfer a memory.

She scoffed. “I don’t think you can make me hurt any worse, Drake.”

He brushed his thumb softly against across her cheek. “We’ll see about that.”

Pain throbbed in Drake’s head. He’d lost track of what type of pain it was. Sharp pain, dull pain, tingly pain—it all felt the same at this point. And he was lying on something hard that hurt almost as much as his head.

A door opened and slammed closed. Didn’t anyone around here have common courtesy? Last he’d heard, it wasn’t polite to go around slamming doors when people had headaches. But then, it also wasn’t polite to hit people in the head, or throw them in basement cells, or leave them for hours in the darkness. No courtesy at
all.

“Get up,” a voice growled.

The voice hurt his head even more. He wasn’t going to listen to the head-hurting voice.

“Now,” the voice said. “Get up now.”

“Shut up,” Drake mumbled.

Something slammed into his ribs. A boot. Yeah, definitely a boot. He knew that sensation all-too-well: the impact of the hardened toe, the whoosh as air leaped free of his lungs. And more pain.

“You’re Rhaize’s son,” the voice said.

Drake didn’t respond. But then he heard the person shifting position, and he knew another kick was on its way. So he muttered, “Yeah. That’s me.”

“You just tried to kill my daughter.”

Drake opened his eyes at that, because he’d always been curious what Shieldak looked like. He was stout with bright red hair and tiny spatterings of freckles on his cheeks. His arch-nemesis had
freckles.

“I didn’t want to kill her,” Drake replied. He didn’t comment on the freckles.

Shieldak growled and crossed his arms. But he didn’t look very intimidating, being short and all. “I will keep this brief,” he snapped. “But if you wish to live, you’re going to listen to every word I have to say. Is that understood?”

Drake nodded, knowing what was coming. The Sentinel would try to use him as a hostage and get something from Rhaize in exchange for his safe return. What the Sentinel didn’t know was that their plan was pointless. Rhaize would probably just laugh in their faces. Or maybe spit at them. Whatever he’d do, it’d be demeaning.

“I’m going to let you go,” Shieldak said. “I want you to return to your father immediately. Are you following me so far?”

Drake frowned. “Yeah.” But it was a lie. He didn’t get this. They were going to let him go? Had Shieldak also gotten hit in the head?

“When you get back to your home, you’re going to tell your father that my daughter is dead. You’re going to show him that blood you have on your claws, and you’re going to say you succeeded in killing her. I will announce her death tomorrow and mourn my loss. Then I’ll move on, and life will continue as it was before Allai came into my life.”

Drake’s head spun. Which really, really didn’t help the pain. “But… But I didn’t kill her? I know I didn’t kill her. I’m sure.”

“No, you didn’t, because you’re a useless little bastard. But your father won’t know she’s alive. Ever. I’ll let you go, because Rhaize needs to believe you succeeded in killing her. But if your father ever discovers she’s alive, I will break every rule of every treaty in place to ensure you die a slow death just as miserable as you are.”

Drake nodded. Then he hesitantly asked, “But why?”

“Why? Because I know Rhaize. He’s relentless. He’s picked my daughter as a target, and he’s not just going to give up if you fail. I can’t let Allai live in constant fear of being attacked by him. She’s better off with people thinking she’s dead.”

Drake wanted to tell him that he’d had the exact same plan. Well, nearly exact. But he didn’t bother. It wasn’t like Shieldak would believe him. “When are you releasing me?”

“Now. Either get off my property in ten minutes, or I’ll have you thrown off.”

He sighed and rested his head back against the cool cement of the floor. Ten minutes until he had to be off Sentinel land. That gave him at least thirty seconds to rest.

The door slammed closed behind Drake, and the smell of blood struck his nose. The scent told him it was a large quantity of blood. A lethal amount.

He froze. This was home. Home wasn’t safe, but it wasn’t supposed to be deadly.

His neck prickled, and he held his breath. Just listened. The only sound in the house came from the upper story. It was the clomping of shoes. Dad. He was the only one who dared to ignore the instinctual stealth of their species and made mundane noises.

Drake crept a few steps deeper into the house. He had to talk to Dad. The drive home from the Sentinel base was just a blur in his aching head, but he’d managed to stay awake by telling himself he had to finish his mission. He had to tell Dad that the girl was dead, and show him the blood to prove it. The blood had dried on his now-sheathed claw. It felt gritty against the skin around his knuckles. But at least he had the blood, and at least it would free his mom.

He wrinkled his nose. The blood in the air smelled fresh, like it had just been spilled. It was definitely a Charger’s. He wished he had more mature senses so he could detect just who the blood came from. Probably that assistant of Dad’s who had been getting in the way lately.

Then he heard muttering coming from the stairs, along with Dad’s footsteps. Drake tensed, but walked forward into the front room, toward the stairs. He had to talk with Dad and had to finish the mission, even if all he wanted to do was curl into a ball and sleep.

“Dad,” Drake called as he walked into the front room. “I’m back, I—”

His words cut off. In the middle of the room was a pool of blood. And on top of that lay Mom, blood fanning out from her white blouse and trickling into the carpet. She lay still. No sound of a heartbeat came from her, and her mouth was half-open, gaping toward the ceiling, as if she hadn’t even had time to finish her scream.

“Oh, good.” Dad’s voice came from across the room. “You’re home.”

Drake swallowed hard, vaguely registering the taste of bile in his mouth, and he just kept staring. Pain twisted his mom’s dead expression. She didn’t look peaceful in death. But then she’d never looked peaceful when she was alive, even though she had appeared youthful and pretty. Blond curls and pale skin… Always so different from Drake, as if she wasn’t even related to him, like she wasn’t his mother. She would have liked it that way.

“Drake,” Dad snapped. “Look at me when I speak to you.”

“What did you do?” Drake breathed.

Dad cleared his throat to get Drake to look up. But he didn’t. He couldn’t stop staring.

“I discovered your mother has been coordinating attacks with the Sentinel,” Dad said, sounding annoyed that he didn’t have Drake’s attention. “I confronted her, and she attacked. It was merely self-defense.”

“She’d never do that,” Drake said, shaking his head. The image of his mom’s corpse blurred. It took him a moment to figure out the blurriness. Tears. “She’d never attack you, you know that. And she was a rogue! She didn’t have alliances with anyone. She didn’t care about your war.”

“My war?” Dad repeated. “This isn’t my war, Drake. This is our war. You were born to fight for this cause.”

Dad sighed and walked forward. The toe of his boot squelched as he stepped into the edge of the blood pool. He didn’t seem to notice. “That’s what your problem is, son. You always place responsibility on other people’s shoulders. Take your mother, for example. Why was it always her life that I had to use to motivate you? You shouldn’t have put that burden on her. It became tiring.” He shot the corpse a disgusted look. “For all of us.”

Bile rose in the back of Drake’s throat. Then he quietly whispered, “She’s dead.”

“Yes, I know she’s dead. I killed her.”

“No,” Drake said. “I mean Shieldak’s girl. I killed her, I did what you wanted me to do. She’s dead.” He didn’t know why he was even telling Dad this; it wouldn’t bring his mom back from the dead. But he extended his shortest claw and held it up, the girl’s dried blood clinging to its tip.

Dad sniffed the air. Then he nodded. “That smells like her. Good job, son.”

“C-can I go to my room? Since I—”

“Don’t interrupt. What I meant is good job trying to lie. You’ve never been good at that, but this was a fine attempt. I suppose I haven’t completely failed at teaching you that skill.”