Set the Sky on Fire (Fire Trilogy Book 1) (24 page)

“No.”

When Ari finally voiced the word, if she hadn't felt the sound reverberate in her chest she might have thought someone else had spoken.

The seether stood, incredulously silent.

“I won’t help you,” Ari clarified, worried her meaning had somehow been missed.

The fury on his face was answer enough.

“You will do as you’re told, you
pathetic
little girl.”

Ari had never experienced so much anger. It spilled from her, and she exerted no control over it. Nevaeh and Michelle became more agitated. The seether, noticing the change, stripped the tape from Michelle's mouth, pulling out the trapped strands of hair. A barrage of profanities flew at him. He smiled and ripped some new tape, slapping a strip back over her mouth, so the insults became incomprehensible once again.

Nate had warned her to manage her feelings, but the seether knew what buttons to push to get the responses he wanted.

“Wow. Even I can feel that.” His eyes were unfocused and maniacal, trying to lay claim to the unseen emotions. He wandered around the room until he found what he’d been looking for. Under the side board was a large kitchen knife that had lain on the table next to the Taser. He drew the blade along one of his long, thin fingers, forcing it through his thick skin, which split under the pressure and released a thin line of blood.

“It's nice to see your father keeps his blades sharp. Perhaps I’ll have to thank him in person.”

“Stay away from my family.”

Wiping the blood on his pants, he stalked past her, stopping on the opposite side of Nevaeh. Ari could see her friend’s face reflected in the blade. Dread clouded her eyes. Next moment, the eyes were gone, replaced by a glinting shaft of light as the seether waggled the knife to get Ari’s attention.

He ran his left hand down Nevaeh’s face, an almost intimate caress.

“Well, Arianna, how about we find out if I
can
kill without any side effects?” The blade rested on Nevaeh's collar bone, her skin whitening under the pressure.

“No, no, wait. There has to be a better way.” Saying no to his proposal was one thing, but dealing with the reality of that decision was something else. “Just wait, we can come to some arrangement. Let’s talk about it. Why don't we sit in the lounge? These two can amuse themselves here for a while?”

“I told you, I wouldn’t offer it again.” The seether was smug, tensing the knife on Nevaeh’s skin then relaxing it again.

“Please, I've changed my mind. Just talk to me. We can sort something out.”

“Come now, Arianna. You don't expect me to believe you, do you? Why would I trust you? You have made it abundantly clear how you feel about the whole thing.”

“
Please
.”

“Let’s be honest. You know a lot more than you should, which doesn't work in my favour, seeing that it's your species I'm trying to manipulate here. If you'd just worked with me from the start, then you may have been able to save your family and friends a lot of pain and heartache. We might have been able to strike up a bargain. But it's a bit late now.” His cruel smile returned. “I’m not completely heartless though. I'll give you the choice. Before you, sit two of your peers. You can choose which one survives. Whoever you choose can walk free. I'll cut their restraints now, and they can walk out the door.”

Michelle's eyes widened, and she renewed her fight against the restraints. Ari understood—Michelle had immediately assumed it wouldn’t be her. It was logical. Ari would save her friend. But for Ari, the decision was not so easy. The gravity of it pressed down on her shoulders. She sat still, only blinking when she had to. Her breathing was shallow and quiet. Thoughts thundered around her head, making it difficult to keep track of anything.

Nevaeh was obviously the clear choice, wasn't she? Of course she was. But Ari couldn't bring herself to say it. She wouldn't be choosing who lived, but who died. Nearly two minutes passed before she slowly raised her head to find Michelle and Nevaeh glaring at her, their eyes eager to convey what they could not say. She didn't look at either of them. She couldn't bear to see their fear.

Instead, she looked at the seether, directly into his cold eyes. Ari felt like she was looking into two black holes, stripping her of her fortitude.

“I can't make that decision. I can’t condemn someone to death.”

Ari glanced over at Michelle and Nevaeh, their eyes burned into her.

“You must choose one or I’ll kill them both,” the seether bellowed at her.

“I—I can't.” Terror impeded her thoughts. She needed more time. “I need water.”

The seether let her stand and walk away. Ari felt anxious turning her back on him and with each step she took she expected him to stop her. Alone in the kitchen, she took a glass from the cupboard and filled it from the tap. Without conscious thought, she lifted the glass to her mouth and drank greedily. With a life on the line, here she was having a drink. Ari wondered why he would allow such an obvious stalling tactic.

He needs me to make the decision. He knows what will screw with my thoughts and make me angry, angry enough to let my emotions overrun me
. She thought back on the conversation and could see the anger spilling out of her, but she had ignored it. The seether needed her to choose one. He knew it would riddle her with guilt, with grief, push her over the edge. Perhaps, even anchor the anger and the grief in her, making her susceptible to his charms. He was finding a way to make her into a weapon. One that didn't require her consent.

One foot at a time, she headed back towards the seether. As if in a dream, she let her hand trail along the edge of the stainless steel bench. It felt cold to the touch, and she fixated on the feeling. As she passed the knife block, her hand trailed up the edge of it, moving over the empty slot and grabbing onto a well-worn handle, one that matched that on the knife the seether had brandished. It slid gracefully from its holder with minimal friction. Looking down at it in her palm, she felt an odd sense of relief. Her fate was in her hands. Nate's presence drifted into her consciousness, just dancing around the edges. He would work out where she was soon, if he hadn’t already.

“What have you decided?” the seether asked, as she reappeared. His expression changed when he saw the knife. He no longer looked cocky or in control.

“You can't win,” he said as if in reply to some unspoken comment. “I would destroy you before that knife came anywhere near me.”

Ari didn’t say anything. She turned her wrist, looking down to see the hilt locked tight in her fingers.

The seether seemed panicked by Ari's calm facade.

“I swear, I’ll cut them both down before you take your first step.”

“I know,” was her only reply, her voice melancholy. Her mind felt numb and her limbs heavy.
I can keep them safe
. She repeated over and over until the words mingled into nonsense.

Ari lowered herself into the seat she’d vacated only a few minutes before, propped on the edge, her knees and ankles together, hands in her lap, like a little girl waiting. That was how she felt, young and timid. Ari looked up at the seether, who seemed to still be on his guard, as if he thought Ari was playing a trick and she would attack him at any moment.

It wasn’t his face she wanted to see, and her eyes trailed across to Nevaeh. Ari watched a single tear run down her cheek. Nevaeh knew her too well. She’d guessed what Ari meant to do. Ari allowed a smile to flicker across her lips. From then on, she didn't take her eyes off Nevaeh’s. Looking to her for courage. She turned the knife back in on herself and gripped the handle with both hands, hesitating only for a moment as Nevaeh’s eyes widened and tears fell like raindrops from her chin.

Ari closed her eyes as tightly as she could and braced herself for the pain. She plunged the knife with all her strength.

What followed made no sense. There was an eruption of noises. Excruciating pain ripped through her whole body. Then, it all went black.

Ari regained consciousness, her head throbbing. What had happened? She shouldn’t be here? Opening her eyes, she found her chin was flush to her chest and her focus directly on her stomach where she’d held the knife, where it should have pierced her abdomen. She looked for the blood. But there was no trace, not even a drop. She pawed at her shirt but could find no cut. She took an inventory of the rest of her body. Carpet scratched at her cheek as she shifted her head around. Her knees and feet were close to her face as if she was in the fetal position and her head was throbbing. Reaching up to see if it was okay, she knocked her hand against the wall behind her. Since it hadn't been there moments before it was safe to assume smacking into it was the reason for the blackout. A shot of pain lurched through her other arm when she attempted to use it to prop herself up, she dropped it back to the floor only for it to splosh in warm, thick liquid. A pool of her blood had formed, streaming from a knife shaped wound on her forearm. It hadn't been the target, but it had still bitten deeply.

Ari hadn't expected him to be that fast.

Trying to ignore the pain in her arm, Ari straightened her body, pushing her legs out in front of her. They were still functional. She managed to drag herself up into a seated position. She gripped her arm, trying to staunch the bleeding, while she surveyed the rest of the room.

The two chairs, holding Nevaeh and Michelle, had been thrown aside, scattered like dice. The girls struggled to free themselves from their restraints, both trying to rock their way into an upright position. Nevaeh managed to flick her chair over, so she was on her knees. From there, she scrambled to her feet, the effort leaving her breathless. Her nostrils flared in an effort to take in more air. She appeared relieved when she plonked herself back on the seat’s legs without any finesse. Michelle, who had stopped to watch Nevaeh’s manoeuvres, now did the same. Ari's empty chair lay on its side in front of her, still intact. She had been knocked clean off it.

Nevaeh and Michelle sat eerily silent and still.

Ari followed their eyes. The seether sat balanced on the edge of the side board, looking down at her with derision. She had lost.

Her vision distorted. When she refocused, the malignant eyes of the seether were mere centimetres from her own. He’d jumped down over her, straddling her legs, giving her nowhere else to look. His warm breath was rancid on her face. He grabbed Ari's shoulders, shoving her back against the wall, hard. Her body, already aching, felt shards of pain rip through.

“Nice try, but I need you alive.” He spoke the words through a clenched jaw.

“I guess we have to do this the hard way then.” He snatched at her uncut arm and yanked her up, her feet flying. Then, picking up her stray chair, he slammed it down in front of her. It quivered under his strength, splintering where his hand had held it. He threw Ari onto it.

“I swear, if you do anything so stupid again, I will kill the lot of you.” Unblinking eyes bulged in his head and his body quaked with rage. Ari’s worst fear had been realised. The fury was in him, and Ari waited for him to lash out. She looked for the knife but couldn’t see it, nor anything else she could use as a substitute. Ari focussed back on the seether. He bared his teeth.

“Don’t even bloody move.” Spittle flicked in her face as he spoke. He gathered up the debris strewn around the room. Ari's eyes followed him, but the rest of her kept still. She didn’t even lift a hand to wipe her face.

Something stroked Ari's subconscious, making her fear slip out of its way. It became more intense as it moved in, blanketing her with a firm sense of security. Nate hurtled towards them. His direction unmistakable. Ari waited, dreading his arrival. The seether lay his collection of tools back on the table. His hand stopped mid-air. His body tensed, his spinal cord erect and locked in place.

The seether rushed forward, arming himself for his unseen adversary. He lunged at Ari, to claim her, but he was too late. With an almighty crash, Nate burst through the door showering those closest to him with door fragments. Ari covered her face, closing her eyes. When she reopened them, the seether was no longer in front of her. Nate's momentum had carried him and the seether into the far wall with the destructive force of a hurtling train.

The adversaries both stood up and plaster rained down on them. Ari glimpsed an imprint of their bodies in the wall. Nate bent his knees, leaned forward and lunged again, striking the seether in the stomach with a muscular shoulder. The impact sent them both flying through the open entranceway into the lounge. The seether landed on his back against the edge of the couch. He grabbed hold of Nate and threw him over the couch. One of Nate's feet slammed into the television, throwing it from its stand, and its screen shattered as it smashed onto the ground. Back and forth they went, striking each other with such force that the rules of gravity seemed not to apply in the tight confines. The room became mutilated around them. The last piece of large furniture untouched was the wall cabinet, cluttered with Ari's family photos.

Ari watched them hurtle into it, destroying the cabinet and sending the pictures flying in all directions. A gold-framed photo of Ari and her parents on her sixteenth birthday lay only a couple of metres from where she stood, the glass cover shattered. Everything was broken. Pieces of her life rained down to cover the floor.

Ari watched on as the violence escalated.

Nate began to tire. He landed fewer punches than the constant barrage the seether inflicted. The match was turning in favour of the seether. And he knew it. A smile crept onto his loathsome face.

“It's about time you started to flag,” the seether jeered. “All that flying around searching for her. You should have known better.”

With a crack, the seether slammed Nate into the floor. Nate's back hit squarely and the ground shuddered to absorb the shockwave. The seether pinned him down, laying blow after blow across his face. Nate struggled to get free but couldn't release himself from his captor. He’d stopped fighting. Instead, he raised his arms to defend himself from the savagery. Blood slowly trickled from the wounds marking his face.

Among the chaos, he found Ari. She looked into his eyes, pleading with him to get up, to force the seether aside and rise to his feet. But his face only softened, and he gave her a sorrow-filled smile. His tenderness filled Ari with desperation. He appeared accepting of his fate. Accepting that he could not win. Nate had conceded defeat and with that, his life. His final act had been to save her. Through slightly parted lips, he made his last request.

“Run.” He said it so quietly, Ari nearly missed it. His eyes implored her, but she couldn't, not again. The seether placed his hands round Nate's neck and squeezed tight. Nate clawed at the fingers that choked him. His mouth opened as if gasping for breath, but his chest didn’t rise. Ari watched Nate’s face redden and sweat bead on his forehead as he struggled for air.

The seether was literally squeezing the life out of him.

Ari looked at the man she loved, and realised he had known, even before he’d shattered the front door, he would die saving her. His back arched off the ground, pain marring his beautiful face.

Losing Nate was unbearable, her love for him felt like a crushing pain in her chest. It continued to increase in pressure until the weight was too much to bare. She cried out for the seether to stop, her arms outstretched towards the two of them. But he didn’t. It was all too much. She screamed. The burden that had built up in her chest finally released. Her emotions surged out, streaming in the direction of her arms. With the effort, her body exhausted itself, and she fell to her knees.

The surging mass of her emotions struck the seether, knocking him off Nate. Free of the seether’s grip, Ari could hear the sound of air rushing in to Nate’s lungs, watched as it inflated his chest, but he didn't move. They lay next to one another, both deadly still.

Ari slowly advanced on them, tiptoeing her way through the wreckage. She knelt down next to Nate and put a hand on his chest. The rise and fall was steady. He was alive.

Ari moved her hand to his cheek, hoping to get a response, but he didn’t flinch. His eyes were wide open, staring blankly at the ceiling. Ari shook his shoulders, but he stayed unresponsive. A single tear welled in the corner of his eye until it was too big to remain there. It slipped out and trickled down his cheek, finding a resting place on the carpet beneath his head.

Ari had been so focussed on Nate, everything else had dissolved into nothing. Only now did she become aware of muffled calls behind her. She turned to find Nevaeh and Michelle still firmly attached to their chairs. Ari didn’t want to leave Nate, but Nevaeh’s eyes pleaded with her. Ari tenderly kissed Nate’s warm cheek, jumped to her feet and ran to help her friend. Picking up one of the kitchen knives on her way, she used it to saw through the tape binding Nevaeh’s arms. Unrestrained, Nevaeh tore off the tape covering her mouth and let out a howl. Ari handed over the knife, leaving her to cut the remainder of her own restraints.

She headed back to the two prone figures, walking between them before kneeling next to the seether. Cautiously, she checked for a pulse. He too was alive.

Nate had said they would fall unconscious if someone died, that a pulse on death would knock them out. But no one was dead. None of this made sense. How could she have caused them to black out? There would be time for questions later. At some stage soon, they would revive. What if the seether woke first? Ari needed to arm herself. This was her chance to finish him off. It was time for this to be over. Ari felt repulsion at the mere idea of it. But it
had
to be done.

Rising to her feet, she stepped back, too scared to turn around. Miscalculating her step, her foot came down on the seether’s limp hand. Horrified she might wake him, she scrabbled to get off. Losing her balance, she fell back to her knees.

The seether opened his eyes.

Ari recoiled, scrambling to get away. He grabbed her wrist before she had time to get out of reach. She waited for the pain. It never came. His grasp was soft. Before she had a chance to fight her way free, he released her.

Ari watched as his head turned, his eyes shifting to find Ari's face. There was something different in that look. A smile appeared. A genuine smile. If Ari didn't know better, she’d have thought his face contained compassion. The sharp edges in his eyes had all but disappeared. He was—Ari foraged through her instincts but found no other answer—he was happy.

The seether sat up and swivelled, so he was kneeling before her. Once again he was only centimetres from her face. This time, however, Ari didn't feel scared. There was no threat in his gaze. His face carried contentment, as his pupils darted from her eyes to her lips and back again.

From the corner of her eye, Ari saw Nevaeh edge towards the seether with the kitchen knife in hand. The seether's expression brought her up short.

He ran his palms over Ari's hair, smoothing it down before running them down the back of her neck and caressing her shoulder. His eyes trailed over her wound.

“Thank you,” he said, tearing off a piece of his shirt and wrapping it tightly around the cut on her arm.

Ari couldn't understand why he was thanking her. Why his eyes, that only minutes ago had gripped her with fear, now seemed to be kind. He seemed to understand Ari’s bewilderment.

“Just for a moment, I felt what you feel; I saw this world through your eyes. I don't know how you survive with all those emotions competing inside you. But somehow, it was beautiful. I guess you can't have great happiness without extraordinary pain.”

He was quiet for a moment but never moved his eyes from Ari's.

“I'm sorry,” he said again.

Ari could sense the seether had changed, no, he was no longer one of them, not a sentinel either, something new.
Dominic
had transformed. She could see it in his face. His thumb gently stroked her cheek, his handsome features no longer masked by anger, and Ari could see how lovely he was. His eyes moved to her lips and his head followed. Soft lips pressed against hers. The tenderness of his touch took Ari by surprise.

A scream shattered the moment.

Dominic's eyes were wide with horror and his mouth gaped open. A gulp of air caught in his throat, making him choke. He looked down at his chest. Ari followed his gaze, but there was nothing there. Behind him, there was a lazy movement, the creeping edge of an expanding blood pool forming. Ari moved around him to see where it was coming from. In the middle of his back was a dark slit, blood draining from it.

Behind Dominic stood Nate, the knife in his hand still dripping blood. Dominic's body crashed to the ground in a heap.

“What have you done?” Ari cried.

She groped at the wound, trying to slow the bleeding. It was useless. She could do nothing but hold his hand and weep. Dominic died in her arms, his fingers still knotted in hers.

Nate fell to the ground with a loud thump.

"Is Nate alright,” Ari screamed.

Nevaeh felt for his pulse. “He’s alive. Just out to it again.” She slapped his cheek but he didn’t stir.

Ari softly lowered Dominic's lifeless head to the ground. His eyes once again stared blankly at the ceiling, this time without hope of ever seeing again.