Kiss of Fire (26 page)

As I twirled through the air, my magic moved away from me, my calm body giving it leave from its prison underneath my skin. My magic mingled with Ilyan’s as he controlled the wind that supported me, our combined magic flowing and dancing. I continued to fly forward as our magic worked together to guide me. Ilyan grabbed me gently and continued moving us through the open air.

As Ilyan threw me away from him again, I understood; all trace of fear was gone. I knew exactly what to do. I grabbed the wind that Ilyan had surrounded me with and pushed it another way, my body moving alongside it as I controlled it.

This was the feeling I got when I climbed the trees with Ryland; this supreme happiness and freedom. It was just as Wyn had said; I had used Ryland’s magic to climb the trees, except now, it was my magic giving me those same feelings. Even though I missed Ryland’s comforting warmth, there was something empowering behind doing it myself.

“Now catch me,” Ilyan’s voice called after me. I turned my head to see him speeding away through the trees in the opposite direction from where I was headed, dodging in and out of the high branches. I laughed happily before easily changing my course to fly after him. Ilyan moved swiftly, his powerful arms propelling him further, his wind racing him ahead of me. He moved with an ever-increasing speed as he changed his course several times. His smiling face continued to look back at me as I desperately tried to catch up to him. I followed behind, not making much headway before he changed his course yet again.

As he moved, I saw a path that would give me a straight shot right to him. I smiled at the idea of winning the game before plunging myself down into the lower branches of the tree. It was harder to move here with the branches growing smaller and closer together, but being out of sight gave me the opportunity to cut across a corner that led straight to him. I broke out of the lower branches, a rush of wind pushing me up to where Ilyan flew. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pushing him off his course, and slamming us into a large branch of a tree.

“Got you,” I said.

I rolled onto the branch as my body began to register the effort that was involved in not only flying, but also propelling through branches. I leaned up against the trunk of the tree and looked at where we had ended up, my breathing ragged and forced as I attempted to catch my breath.

“Very good,” Ilyan said. He leaned forward and placed his hand gently against my face. I stiffened as his warmth moved into me, moving right to my back. It spread comfortably down my spine, wiping away the small aches that had popped up from our impact.

“I didn’t break my back again, if that’s what you’re checking.”

“I know, but it’s always best to double check.” He smiled before removing his hand, letting his fingers trace the kiss again.

“Why do you do that?” I said, moving swiftly away from his touch.

“Do what?”

“Touch my kiss. It seems you take every opportunity to touch it.”

He withdrew his hand. “I’m sorry. Does it bother you?”

“Not as much as it should, I suppose,” I lied; it actually made me very uncomfortable, like he was touching me in an intimate way. “When Ryland touched it, I kind of blacked out. Why doesn’t it do that with you?”

“Because you are not bonded to me, Joclyn. I am not your mate and so our bodies don’t react.”

“Mate?” I exclaimed, terrified.

“Yes, Joclyn. The Zȇlství, remember? Everything just has a different name.”

I nodded my head like I understood, but my stomach still spun.
Mate
? I was sixteen, barely.

“So why do you keep touching it?” I asked, freaking out a little bit. “You don’t expect the same thing to happen, do you?”

Ilyan laughed, which I should have been happy about, but instead it only made me feel really embarrassed.

“No, Joclyn, you don’t have to worry about that. I am only here to protect you. It’s just…”

“What?”

“It’s just been so long since I have seen one, since my father… My father had a kiss just as you do, did you know that?

“Your father? But I thought you were a… a... Skry…” Darn it, I had forgotten the word.

“A Skȓítek, Joclyn.”

“I thought you were a Skȓítek?”

“My mother was. My father was a Chosen Child, just as you. So I guess I am kind of a half-breed,” he said.

“A half-breed… who is king of the Skȓíteks?”

Ilyan nodded at my connection. “My father ruled over all magical beings for a time, many years ago. So, I guess you could say that I inherited the title.”

“Your father was king? Of the Skȓíteks?”

“More along the lines of king over everyone. In that time, there was no true segregation.”

“What happened to him? Did Edmund kill him, too?”

Ilyan hesitated, looking away and running his hands through his straight hair.

I instantly regretted asking the question.

“My father was the first person that Edmund destroyed,” he clarified.

I had spent the last two days in the air, although it wasn’t by choice. Ilyan had insisted that once I had grasped the concept, I perfect it. I knew it was all with the pretense of my need to escape, and it made me mad. I had perfected moving wind, even under the barrier the necklace gave me, for short distances. It wasn’t enough for Ilyan; he insisted I do better. I should have been happy for his persistence in teaching me, but I wasn’t. I wanted to be stronger, know more and actually be of use when we went to save Ryland.

I yelled and screamed at Ilyan, begging him to teach me something new, to show me how to at least defend myself, but he refused. He was adamant that I perfect my mastery of wind. He demonstrated ways I could use the wind defensively, and I learned them easily, my skills improving swiftly now. Moving around pebbles and benches wasn’t enough for me, and I begged further.

I must have pushed it too far; about three hours ago, Ilyan had snapped. He said nothing, but the ice in his gaze cut through me, and I shrank away, running to my room to escape the onslaught I was sure I had unleashed, but it never came.

I sat in the windowsill that overlooked the courtyard with my head against my knees. I looked out into the yard, seeing nothing except a green haze as the setting sun streamed through the green leaves of the massive tree. I had come here when I had fled from Ilyan and had attempted to teach myself some form of defensive magic, but I had no idea what I was doing.

My magic had surged and crackled underneath my skin and between my fingertips as I tried to conjure something, anything that could be of use. Nothing happened in all the hours that I tried. My inability to conjure more than wind had only soured my bad mood further.

I had stopped attempting any form of magic when the news had come on a few minutes ago, my ears perking up at the sound of my name. It seemed I was still big news, and what was more, Ryland was giving another press conference—live this time.

I tried to keep my focus off the screen, terrified of the condition I would see him in, but my ears were tuned to it intently, my heart thumping in anticipation. The possibility of hearing his voice had electrified my senses. I grabbed the necklace from its resting place on the table, desperate to be close to him in any way possible.

“And now we go live to the LaRue estate where Ryland LaRue will be addressing the press.”

I reluctantly turned my head to the screen, my heart beating in eager, yet terrified, fear. The “Live” icon lit up the bottom corner of the screen and I couldn’t help but think he would be right there, standing on the steps of that beautiful house. My heart longed to be next to him. I clenched the necklace tighter as Ryland walked out of the door to the small podium that stood at the bottom of the front steps where the press had gathered.

I would like to say he looked like he had healed a bit, but I knew better. His right arm still hung lifelessly beside him, his right shoulder larger than the left one. His bruises appeared to be better, and the cut was almost gone, but he was twitching more than he had been the last time. Each jerk was so subtle that most people wouldn’t have noticed it. Each twitch shot through me like I was being punched.

Ryland paused and shifted the papers in his left hand before looking at everyone in front of him. His bright blue eyes met the camera, and everything stopped. Ryland was terrified; I had never seen him look so scared. Seeing him there on the screen, shoved Edmund’s magic-enshrouding blanket completely off me. My uncovered magic surged, the energy prickling my skin like a thousand needles. I expelled it from me, surprised to find it willingly going into the necklace that I still held in my hands. I looked at the ruby, reluctant to take my eyes from Ryland for too long. My magic flowing into the ruby had increased its warmth, the heat comforting against my skin.

“It’s okay, Ryland. You can do it,” I spoke softly to myself, wishing I could help him.

On the screen, Ryland shifted, but it wasn’t the twitch of the Vymȁzat; it was something different. His eyes met the camera again, and his mouth turned up in that coy, little smile that always caused my heart to skip a beat.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I have asked you to gather together today with the intent of addressing an assumption that has been prevalent among the press. This assumption concerns the disappearance of Joclyn Despain.”

A twitch.

“Fight him, Ryland, please. Fight him for me.”

He smiled again. “I know it has been inferred that I may have been involved in her disappearance.” A bigger twitch. “And I would like to state again, that I was not involved with this tragedy in any way. I am proud to say that I love Joclyn Despain with all my heart, and her disappearance has taken an even bigger impact on me than she may ever know.”

He looked right at the camera, his eyes shining with tears. “I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you, too.” The necklace dug into my hand as my magic continued to surge into it.

“I know you do. And that’s why I need you to listen very carefully.”

I froze, focused on the necklace, on the warm heat that I instantly recognized as not being my own.

“You need to...” He paused when a twitch so large came over him that he had to hold onto the podium tightly, his knuckles turning white before he could raise his head.

“Fight him, Ry.”

“I’m... trying... Jos... Stay... where you are... Don’t come... Stay where you are...” He twitched so much that his head slammed into the podium. I could hear the press yell and call out in alarm in the background. He rose slowly, and I could tell he had lost. The blue from his eyes was gone, the pitch-black filling them once again.

I yelled in fear, the necklace falling to the floor.

“Ryland!”

“I’m coming to get you,” Ryland’s voice hissed angrily.

I screamed out just as the door to my bedroom burst open and Talon rushed in. He caught me right before I fell to the ground. I fought against his hold as I yelled, reaching toward the screen in vain, my voice echoing around the room. Wyn followed Talon in and grabbed a pillow from the bed and covered the necklace with it, her hands pushing it hard into the floor.

“What’s going on?” Ovailia yelled angrily, her agitation at being interrupted apparent.

“Get Ilyan!” Talon yelled, his arms wrapping around me protectively.

“Don’t you dare talk to me that way,” Ovailia scolded, affronted.

“Get Ilyan, now!” he amended, his voice loud enough to reach over my screams.

Wyn came up beside us, her arms wrapping around me tightly, her head resting against my back. Her cold magic flowed into me, the iciness shocking me, my panic stopping immediately. She withdrew her magic, leaving my own residual warmth to boil through me angrily at the absence of the necklace around my neck.

“Thanks, Wyn,” I whispered.

“It’s okay. He’s okay.” Wyn’s soft voice vibrated through me.

“Did... did you see?”

“Yes, we saw.”

“Saw what?” Ilyan’s voice was laced with worry.

I heard the door close and footsteps approach as Ilyan rushed over and pried me away from my friend’s strong arms. He pushed his magic into me, concerned that I was injured in some way.

“I’m fine, Ilyan,” I sighed as I moved away from him, breaking the contact with his hands. “It’s just... I mean...” I stopped. I didn’t quite know how to explain what had happened.

“Ryland spoke to you through the television, didn’t he?” Talon said.

Ilyan’s head whipped around to stare at me as I nodded. He exclaimed something in Czech before turning to face me head on.

“I need you to tell me exactly what happened, Joclyn. Everything. Don’t hold back, not now.” Ilyan grasped my hands tightly in his.

I jerked my hands away from him; I think he had hoped that the contact would give me confidence, but it only made me uncomfortable. I wrapped my arms around myself, hiding my hands from him in case he tried again.

I stayed that way until Wyn graciously took pity on me, although her comfort felt almost as unwelcomed as Ilyan’s. I didn’t want either of them; I only wanted Ryland.

“I saw him on the TV; it was a live press conference. Seeing him there... I could feel everything. I pulsed my magic into the necklace and then Ryland started talking to me... and then... he changed... and...” I knew I hadn’t done a very good job from the beginning, but Ilyan didn’t get mad or scold me. He simply began to pace the room, mumbling under his breath.

“Ovailia!” Ilyan yelled. She opened the door, obviously listening from the hallway the entire time. “Get me a copy of the press conference, as quickly as you can.”

Ovailia simply walked away, leaving the door to my room wide open.

Ilyan continued to pace as Talon began filling him in on what they had seen on the press conference and how Ryland had begun to talk directly to me. I filled in the gaps on my end when needed, glad I didn’t have to say much.

I couldn’t take my eyes off the pillow that Wyn had used to smother the necklace. It called to me, my heart thumping at my need for it. Before I knew what I was doing, my hands were hovering over the pillow, desperate to remove it.

“Joclyn, don’t.” Talon’s voice was stern, and I stopped moving.

“Why not? I just... Can I put it back on?”

“No,” Ilyan said simply. “He may be possessing the necklace.”

“He?”

“Edmund.” Ilyan’s voice was like ice.

“So he knows now?”

“I’ll have to see the video to know for sure.”

I nodded, my eyes rolling back over to the pillow involuntarily.

“If he has, will you teach me how to block him from the necklace, from controlling me?”

“I can try; it’s probably going to be more difficult than you are assuming.”

“What do you mean?” My body sank into itself, folding me into a crumpled mass as the weight of everything kept falling over me.

“It’s like I said before, Joclyn; it involves magic you don’t understand yet.”

“But I can try?” I tried to fight the hopelessness of my inability. If only Ilyan had taught me something other than just how to fly.

“If anyone can figure out how to do it, I am sure it will be you.”

I nodded, but had no idea what he meant. I was sure it would involve some training that I had yet to receive, meaning the chance of getting my necklace back anytime soon would be slim to none.

“It’s queued up in your room, Ilyan.” Ovailia spoke from the doorway, making it obvious she did not want him to stay in here. Ilyan stood and dismissed her before walking over to stand next to me.

“May I borrow your necklace, Joclyn?”

I nodded and let him take it, although I did not move from my spot on the floor.

I just sat in silence, staring at the carpet where the impression in the plush pile still marked the place the necklace had landed. I could hear Wyn and Talon shift and whisper behind me, but I ignored them stubbornly.

So, I could speak to Ryland through the necklace; I could connect directly with him. While the possibilities were exciting, I couldn’t help worrying about the other half, about what Edmund could do to me.

I was only vaguely aware of the whispered conversation occurring between Wyn and Talon. Their voices were like chicken scratches in my head, blocking most of my thoughts. I wished they would just leave; I wanted to be alone. I wanted to yell, scream, and figure out how to make things explode. The buzzing under my skin had reached an all-time high, and I actually felt like it might be possible now.

Just as I was about to snap at them and demand privacy, the door opened and Ilyan charged in, necklace swinging before him.

“I can wear it?”

“Yes. I think Edmund just went on a whim with his comment. I can’t sense any consistent connection with Edmund; it’s all residual through your bond with Ryland.”

I took the necklace from him greedily, eager to put it back on.

“Just don’t purposefully push anymore of your magic into it, all right?”

“Why not?” I spoke in a panic; not allowing me to push magic into it was hindering any exploration, any contact with Ryland. My heart froze uncomfortably in my chest.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

“How could I...?” I began to ask the question, but Ilyan just shook his head unwilling to give me an answer.

“I’m leaving,” he announced.

“What?” Talon and Wyn asked together.

“I will be back on Thursday, so everyone needs to keep preparing for Friday night.”

“Is everything okay?” Wyn asked quietly.

“I am not sure; I need to check on a few things. But don’t worry; I’ll be back soon.” He smiled sadly at us, his eyes lingering on me before turning to go out the door.

“Oh,” Ilyan added, his head peeking around the doorframe, “I’m terribly sorry, but Ovailia’s in charge.” He winked before disappearing and I felt my insides plummet. I wasn’t the only one.

“Great,” Wyn groaned, flinging herself back on my bed. “There goes my week.”