Scorch (27 page)

"Kira, what did you do?" He cursed, begging
for an explanation.

Using the last bits of her strength, Kira
raised her palm to his cheek, catching the tears that were falling.
He had to understand.

"I saved you," she said, her voice barely a
whisper, "I saved you all from me."

"We found a cure, there was another way." He
shook his head. His lips wavered and the body below her head
trembled.

"No," Kira sighed, "there wasn't. But
Luke?"

He nodded.

"I wish there had been. Because I do love
you."

"I love you too," he told her, voice
cracking. And then he leaned down, planting a soft kiss upon her
lips.

Her vision began to fade. The world around
her seemed to evaporate until all she saw was Luke. His features
hardened, the word 'no' danced across his lips.

She felt him lift her, felt the pull of
gravity as she sagged in his arms. He carried her, placing her
gently down, running to the side.

Kira felt the rumble of the car.

He was speaking to her. She couldn’t hear the
words he was saying, but it was okay. She kept looking at him,
drinking him in until her heavy lids fell shut.

But it wasn't dark or empty or void behind
her closed eyes, because with death so close, there was nothing for
Kira but her dreams. The world had disappeared. There were no
smells, no sounds, no sights to take in except those her mind
created.

So she dreamed of the life she could have
had. The one she wanted to have if things had been different.

Instead of finding her on the ground, lying
there like a fading memory, Luke would have turned to see Kira
standing over him, waiting for him. He would have stood and she
would have leapt into his arms, overjoyed at their victory. He
would have spun her around, laughing together so blissfully that
nothing could outshine them.

And they would have lived together, happily
ever after—joking together, bickering with each other, kissing
fights away, making memories—they would tease each other
mercilessly but would always know that at the base of it there was
love. And not the kind of love built on lust, not the kind that
eventually puttered out. But real love, the kind of love built on
something stronger, built on knowing that you could bare your soul
to another person and he would do the same. The sort of the love
that brightened the world around you, making everything better
because you knew your best friend would also be your forever.

Kira let the dream fill her as she traveled
back to the place she had been only an hour before, into the heart
of her fire, into her core.

The world around her was in flames, but it
wasn't scary. It was her power keeping her safe, keeping her warm,
reassuring her that even though her life was over, it wasn't the
end of everything.

But most of all, it wasn't scary because Luke
was there, arm draped over her shoulder, pulling her in close,
telling Kira she would never be alone, that they would be together
forever.

Kira listened to his words. She let the
devotion in his voice roll over her. She let herself believe in
him, in them, in herself.

They kissed and her mind was filled with
love. It tingled down her senses—a warm golden glow that made life
and even death taste sweeter.

And without her realizing it, her soul split.
The Punisher fire drifted away, evaporating into the heat of their
love.

For the first time in her short life, Kira
was at peace, wrapped soothingly in her dreams.

But after a while, even the dreams faded
away.

Epilogue

Lana Peters stepped out of the car as quickly
as her old body would allow. Two Protector Councilmen followed
after, quiet and stoic, more like bodyguards than a greeting crew.
So Lana smiled for the lot of them, forcing her cheeks to widen
even though her wrinkled hands shook.

It was hard to let old fears go, too hard for
most of the town. But Lana knew, from her daughter and from her
granddaughter, that some rules needed to be broken and some
traditions needed to fade into past.

Which was why she had volunteered to welcome
the dozen or so vampires standing in a straight line just beyond
the wall. Without them, the battle would have lasted far longer.
Without them, many more conduit lives would have likely been lost.
Without them, her own husband, who believed himself to be twenty
years younger than he really was, might have fallen.

She smiled softly to herself, picturing him.
He did not want her in this role, but what else could the wife of
the Head Councilman do? The grandmother of the very girl who
promised these vampires their lives back? It was her duty, the
least she could do. Kira would have wanted nothing else.

"Welcome," Lana called, strengthening her
voice from its normal dainty singsong, "We have turned the wall
off. You are free to come in, as friends."

All of the vampires looked at each other,
quick sidelong glances that were hard for Lana to follow with her
old, human eyes. But she did notice the bright blue hue to their
irises—a color that matched the sunny, cloudless sky.

And then one broke free from the line,
approaching the wall guardedly. She was a girl with long, flowing
black hair who looked no older than twenty to Lana. Too young to be
so mature. And right behind her was a boy that Lana did
recognize—Tristan. A visitor in their town only a few days before,
who looked rather nervous himself.

"Hello Lana Peters," the vampire spoke, "I'm
Pavia. I think Kira," she paused, swallowed, "I mean Luke probably
mentioned me."

"Yes, of course, I've heard about you. So
nice to finally meet you in person." She nodded slightly, an
old-fashioned woman-to-woman handshake.

Pavia shrugged and grinned. "So, should we
get this party started? One-way road to mortality and all that
jazz?"

Lana coughed, hiding a laugh for the benefit
of the stodgy Councilmen at her side, "Yes, of course. Please take
a seat in the car behind this one and we will take you to the town
square."

"Perfect," she turned around, speaking to her
own people, "alright everyone, you heard the woman. Keep those
fangs securely locked away." She turned again, grabbing Tristan's
hand and tugging him along, speaking into his ear. The boy visibly
relaxed, and walked with Pavia ahead of the other vampires.

Lana eased back into her car with a little
help from the two conduits next to her. And then the cars started
moving, making their way back into the only home Lana had ever
known. She was born in Sonnyville, met her husband here, raised her
child here. Her house held the stories of her life. The shelf her
husband had accidentally hung crooked, the old chair her father had
made for them as a wedding gift, the spot where her daughter had
taken her first little baby steps, the spot where she had taken her
last.

Never in that life were vampires in her
little town. It was a safe haven, an oasis from the threat of
vampires, and having them here did feel somehow wrong. But also
right at the same time, she thought. Because more than anything,
her life was about trying to protect people—from vampires, from
hardships, from heartache. And now Protectors would be able to
protect lost souls in the way they were originally created to
do—her granddaughter Kira had been right about that.

But not everyone agreed, Lana thought,
looking around at the homes they were driving past. Half were
empty, their patrons gathered at the town square to celebrate what
had been a victorious battle and now a victorious new future for
conduits to step into. But half were full of curious eyes staring
out the window and of children locked tightly in their rooms. Half
were resistant and doubtful, stuck in their ways.

Lana reached her heavy arm out, pressing the
window down, still marveling that the push of a button was all it
took—quick and easy. In a world of so much technology, it seemed
only right for her people to finally start advancing too.

She waved hello to all of the families still
huddled inside their homes, trying to let them know that there was
nothing to fear.

Before long, a sea of blond heads came into
view, her people—a good portion of them—gathered in the town
square, waiting for their guests.

The driver pulled over and opened her door,
giving Lana a helping hand as she stepped free of the car. She
motioned for him to open the door of the other car as well. Pavia
stepped out first, to the gasp of the entire village, but she
seemed unaffected and strode toward Lana.

Such gusto, Lana smiled, this vampire almost
reminded her of Kira, the confidence and strength.

Her smile wavered, cracked. She took a deep
breath and began shuffling her tired feet toward the dais, toward
the comforting presence of her husband. Based on the stares of the
conduits she ambled past, the vampires were following.

Just short of the steps, Lana stopped,
signaling her guests to continue. The Council platform was not her
place. Her place was the empty chair a few steps away, the one she
had been sitting in for half of her life while she watched her
husband work. So she sat, and tuned out the speech she had all but
memorized the evening before. Instead, she let the baritone voice
she loved relax her as she looked around at her people.

Some were afraid. Some were hopeful. Some
wary. Some excited.

Her gazed moved farther up, toward the seven
men in their fanciest suits sitting mightily on their thrones—a
sign of strength for the new, potentially rough road ahead. In the
middle, her husband, fanned by some of their closest friends. But
those weren't the faces Lana was searching for.

To the left of her Council, still sitting but
on smaller chairs, were eight red haired men. Seven made up the
Punisher Council and the last was Noah, the man who had come to
testify against Kira, who had argued to end her life. His face was
composed, hard to read, but she wondered what he was thinking
now.

Lana's gaze shifted to the right, and her
heart slipped a little, sagged even more than the normally heavy
heart of someone who had lived so long, endured too much. Luke was
standing beside the thrones, alone, hands clenched behind his back.
His face was impassive, too melancholic for such a young, healthy,
vibrant man. His eyes were red, puffy from long days spent in a
similar fashion to Lana's—crying.

Blinking away new tears, Lana focused on her
husband again. His speech was coming to a close.

"this great new day. And so, we venture
forward together—once enemies and now allies, trying to find the
solution my granddaughter sought to provide. Pavia," he gestured to
the vampire and she stepped forward, "has been brave enough to
volunteer, to entrust her life to Luke and Noah as they try to
restore her humanity according to the method Kira described
before," he paused, his shoulders hunched an inch, "before the hard
won battle a few days ago."

Lana, like the rest of the town, turned her
attention to Pavia. Her skin was pale, pearly in the sunlight, and
her eyes glowed a stark blue that jumped from her face. Her smile
was easy, but Lana saw the catch in her throat, the tense rigidity
in her body. And it humanized the vampire. She was nervous, as
anyone would be to experiment with his or her life, even a life
that had been lived far longer than nature intended.

Pavia continued to step forward. The town
remained so quiet that even Lana's old ears heard the click of
shoes on wood. The vampire paused, and then let her body sink into
the lounge chair waiting in the center of the platform.

Luke walked forward first, leaning down to
say something to the girl, something that made her stiff body
relax. She moved fast, so that her hand was just a blur, but Lana
knew what occurred. The vampire had reached out to squeeze Luke's
hand, to return the comforting favor.

Noah joined the two, completely the trio, and
the entire town breathed in.

Flames erupted on Luke's palms.

His hand shifted forward, closing in on the
vampire's skin.

Pavia flinched.

"Stop!"

And everyone obeyed.

Like statues, no one moved. And then,
shocked, the sea of blond shifted together, focusing all of their
attentions on the source of that command.

Lana's breath caught.

Standing there at the top of the square was
the exact replica of her daughter, of her baby girl Lana, almost at
the same age as the last time she had seen her. Stick straight
blond hair, tanned skin, green flaming eyes, tall and proud
stance.

But it wasn't Lana, it was not a ghost come
back to haunt, it was Kira. A one hundred percent Protector
Kira.

A grin spread across Lana's face, shifting
wrinkles, bringing youth back to her features.

Kira was alive.

Her granddaughter was alive.

"Really? You guys started without me? One
little coma," Kira paused, cocking her hip to the side, "well, I
guess that was technically my second coma, but come on, it's only
been a few days. Way quicker than last time."

Still the image of her mother to Lana, Kira
strode forward, all attitude. "You're acting like I'm dead. No
faith," she shook her head, and then she stopped, a smile breaking
through the chiding façade.

And Lana knew why as feet thudded loudly down
the steps behind her and a body flew into her vision.

Before Kira could say another word, Luke was
there, lifting her up, spinning her around, kissing her. Their
reunion was full of so much joy, so much happiness that it
brightened the world around them, cascaded around the square like a
surge of power. Laughter rained down on the crowd, infectious,
bringing smiles to the faces of every conduit there.