Blood leaked from Isaiah’s mouth and nose. His hands were bound tightly.
Councilman Davison took a step forward. “Felix, you will—”
Felix raised one hand casually, almost like he was going to brush the hair out of his eyes. It came up with something silver and glinting. He pointed the gun at Davison. Felix’s throaty laugh extinguished any idea I harbored of escape.
“You were saying?” he asked.
A chorus of silence filled the room.
“You should take care of your business, brother,” he said to Adam, the steely weapon unwavering. “I’ll deal with these traitorous Councilmen.”
“Felix—” In that one word, Adam sounded unsure, desperate.
“Go.” Felix half-turned, and I scanned the room for Hanai. He was gone. A tendril of hope flared inside.
Adam barked a command, and the sentries herded Davison’s Council, along with Cat and Isaiah, through the door. Adam followed, casting one last glance at me before the door swung closed.
“Now it’s just you and me, Gabby,” Felix said, his hand smoothing over my hair. I tried not to, but I cringed away from his touch.
He chuckled, his eyes starving, wanting. “No, not just yet. But you will be begging for me soon enough, Firemaker.” His breath cascaded over my chin and neck as he moved closer. His mouth crushed mine, sickening me.
I bit down hard, tasting his blood. He pulled away, wiping his mouth, an angry spark in his eyes now. “That wasn’t very smart.”
I spit in his face, pink droplets spattering his cheeks and mouth, along with a healthy dose of angry flames.
With a roar, he swung up. The clash of metal with my jaw sent a rainbow-colored explosion through my brain. The very solid floor cracked against my cheekbone. The pain was immediate and strong; it almost numbed my face.
Felix leaned over, his rank breath in my nostrils again. “Definitely not a very smart girl.” He tasted of my lips again, and a blinding pain coursed through my jaw. The fire seeped out through the wound, sparked from the gashes on my wrists. Away it floated until I was cold, icy cold, and still Felix had his mouth on mine.
An edge of darkness crept into my awareness. A whisper. Then another crushing blow, this time to the back of my head, and all turned black.
Jarvis’s face, all dark beauty and sharp angles, swam through a midnight sky. We walked in the forest. We ran. We talked. Laughed. Held hands.
He looked at me with something akin to love in his gaze. Then he kissed me. I kissed him back. When I pulled away, it wasn’t Jarvis anymore.
Adam’s sandy curls rested against his eyebrows, and a sparkle decorated his eyes. We shared a secret, one that bonded us.
I blinked, and Adam became Hanai. Dark, brooding, beautiful Hanai.
I wanted to place them each on a separate shelf inside my heart. But Jarvis had chosen someone else even while he was kissing me. That flame had been snuffed out months ago.
Adam was a sentry one second, my Airmaster the next. I couldn’t trust him. I wanted to, but doing so would be suicide.
Hanai and I probably could’ve had a future together in some other place, at some other time.
So even as I watched, helpless inside my own nightmare, Hanai’s face dissolved away.
Something dry cracked in my throat. Blood. I swallowed, desperate to coat the dryness. A voice spoke. Unfriendly. The steady rhythm of movement beneath me lulled me back into the soft folds of sleep despite the chill seething in my joints.
When I came to again, the sky bled a mixture of pink and orange. Crisp and clear, the air burned in my lungs. I tried to sit up, but found my hands tied above my head, preventing me from rising more than a few inches.
Something—no, someone—warm lay next to me. I turned and found Felix. I started, trying to widen the gap between us. His heavy hand was draped across my stomach. He groaned when I moved but didn’t wake up.
I cocked my head. My hands were secured to a pole in the ground. My wrists wept blood, the flesh raw and broken. Strangely, that pain didn’t register. But my shoulders ached from their rotated position. My back hurt. My jaw throbbed.
None of my injuries compared to the fury that accompanied Adam’s betrayal. The thought of him in those black clothes, wielding his sentry knife, brought the contents of my stomach churning to the surface.
I turned away before I retched, partly wishing I’d spewed on Felix. But I felt certain the next time I defied him, I’d get more than a broken jaw.
Felix stirred. “I’m freezing.” He reached for me again, but I slithered out of his grasp.
“Don’t touch me.” I struggled against the bindings. “Untie me.” The cancellers were gone. If only I could find a spark. As soon as I thought it, heat surged through my veins.
He stretched and wiped a hand over his day-old beard. “You’re in no position to make demands, girl.”
Smoke poured from my palms. Felix cursed and scrambled toward his pack. I pressed the fire, willing it to burst into flames. It ignored me. The cancellers had serious lasting effects.
And then Felix held the metal rings against my skin. The smoke cleared. The piercing cold snatched my very breath.
Felix snarled as he slid the cancellers around my wrists.
“Stop it. Please,” I added.
He smiled, revealing stained teeth. “That’s more like it.”
I turned away from his hungry expression. His hands lingered along my waist. My ribs. My chest. I swallowed a sob, determined not to let him know how much he was hurting me.
I squeezed my eyes shut as he cupped my face in his palm. “You do possess a natural beauty, Gabriella.” His voice sounded soft, almost like Adam’s.
My stomach lurched again, already empty. Felix brought his lips to mine, and I went limp. Thankfully, he stopped after only a moment. “You’re no fun.”
He got up and began breaking camp. I couldn’t stop shaking from the cold indignation spreading through my body. Couldn’t open my eyes. Behind my closed lids, I saw the gun in my face, the needful look in Felix’s eyes. I heard how desperate Adam had sounded before he left.
“We better get moving,” Felix said. “Adam took the hovercraft to return Isaiah and Cat to Tarpulin faster. Alex has been asking for them. I hate walking, but at least it’ll generate some heat. It’s never been so cold this late in the year.”
The visions and voices in my head evaporated. I didn’t think I’d ever be warm again. He released the ropes binding me to the pole and pulled me to my feet. My legs felt weak and spindly. Without meaning to, I leaned into him.
He held me tightly, like a lover. I shoved him away, an angry spark igniting inside. “I said not to touch me.”
His eyes deadened. He threw a fold of cloth on the ground. “Eat. We’ve got a lot of ground to cover.”
He strode away, disappearing into a stand of trees maybe a hundred feet away. In front of me, endless plains of snow stretched toward the horizon.
I knelt and collected the cloth, cursing the ropes and cancellers still keeping my wrists captive. Breakfast became a scrap of bread, a whisper of cheese, and a small apple. I ate quickly, keeping my eyes trained on the grove. I used my torn robes to tend to my wrists, wiping at the blood. The cancellers slid, slick with the mess.
I realized Felix hadn’t fastened them. They squelched easily over my hands and dropped to the ground.
I whirled around, reached for my Element, and found it lurking in the pit of my stomach. I summoned it, pleading with the fire to erupt.
It didn’t. Smoke billowed from my hands. “Please.” I squeezed my eyes shut. Hot blazing infernos. I conjured up the image of such a thing. Felt the heat. Inhaled the luxurious smoke. I opened my eyes to a meager showering of sparks fluttering to the ground.
“Hey!”
I spun. Felix stood at the edge of the trees, his widened eyes clearly visible.
I sprinted toward the endless fields of snow. Legs of fire shot from my palm, melting the snow enough for me to c
ross over somewhat muddy ground. But I needed Adam to refreeze the melted water into ice, into something Felix couldn’t simply follow.
His thundering footsteps gained on me. His breath haunted me. Even, in and out. I couldn’t outrun him, but I wasn’t going to make it easy for him to rape and kill me either.
I ran as hard as I ever have. I weaved left, then right. Poured waves of fire. Felix mimicked my every move.
Then my fire quit. The world frosted over, sending the chill deep into my soul.
I barreled into the snowdrift, struggling through it like it was waist-high water.
Still Felix followed. His mad, thrashing sounds were punctuated by the panting of his breath—and the galloping of my own heart.
He crashed into me, sending me face-first into ice crystals. My skin felt like a thousand needles had punctured it.
“Stupid girl.” Felix retied the rope around my wrists while I struggled against his massive weight. I couldn’t hold back the torrent of tears as the existing wounds reopened.
He yanked me upright and spun me around. His eyes glinted in the dim light with a hint of murder. His breath came in cold spurts, and his cheeks held a ruddy quality beneath his whiskers.
He clamped the Elemental cancellers over my wrists, tightening them one notch beyond comfort. The enhanced metal robbed me of all hope, every flicker of fire.
Felix removed something from his pocket and shook it. Then a black cloth drenched my face, plunging me into darkness so absolute I couldn’t tell if my eyes were open or not. He cinched the bag around my neck, sealing me in with only my exhaled breath and my thoughts.
“Let’s go.” Felix tugged on my shoulder, and I stumbled forward so I wouldn’t fall.
“Why can’t we catch a train or something?” My voice sounded so loud inside the bag.
“Adam is escorting your little friends to Tarpulin in the only available hovercraft.”
“I thought Alex wanted me,” I said. Not that I really wanted to arrive at death’s footstool earlier, but taking Cat and Isaiah instead of me didn’t make much sense. If either one of them lost so much as an eyelash, Adam would pay.
“She does,” Felix said. “But my brother and I have a little arrangement to meet in Cornish before delivering you to Tarpulin.”
Cornish? I couldn’t form the word in my mouth so it merely echoed in my head. It took great concentration to put one foot in front of the other, but I found when I focused on the anger coursing through me, walking became easier. I imagined the horrible things I’d say to Adam when I next saw him.
Felix’s arm slithered around my back, pulling me into his body and making the wicked thoughts vanish. I recoiled from the unwanted touch. “Don’t worry, we can’t walk all the way to Tarpulin.”
My tongue felt too thick to fit in my mouth. Felix made me walk along the road for what felt like forever—surely we had gone all the way to Tarpulin.
Time didn’t exist in the dark. Life faded away. When Felix finally said stop, I fell to the ground, frozen, but uncaring.
When he removed the hood, a few bright spots peeked through the darkness. For a moment, the earth swayed. Then I sucked down a fresh lungful of air and my vision cleared.
“Eat.” Felix thrust something at me, but I couldn’t get my stiff fingers to respond fast enough to catch it. The lump of cheese landed in the mud. I didn’t care. Taste didn’t matter anymore.
I drank greedily from the skein he passed me. Some of the life came back into my body, but no warmth. I couldn’t stand the way my fingertips ached with cold, how they tingled as I rubbed feeling back into them. The fierce wind bit at my face and stung the corners of my eyes. How did people live like this all the time?
Felix dumped a pile of kindling at my feet. “If you play nice, I’ll take off the cancellers.”
“And the ropes.” I glared up at him.
“And the ropes.” His words came out with hovering white clouds. He pressed his hands to his mouth and exhaled. I realized he was as cold as me—and possibly willing to do anything to get a fire going.
“And you’ll bandage my wounds,” I said. “My fire leaks when I’m cut.”
He balled his fists. “Can you light a fire?”
I shrugged. “Maybe. It’s pretty cold. And I’m injured.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
“Then I can light the fire,” I said, hoping I actually could.
Felix unclasped the cancellers and tucked them in his coat pocket, never taking his distrustful gaze from me. He cut the ropes, and I watched them fall to the ground.
Our eyes met in a lingering moment of silence.
My fire burned cold. A single spark leaped from the gash on my left wrist. The sight of my own blood made the flimsy bite of cheese feel too heavy in my stomach.
Felix tossed me a strip of cloth, which I held while he took my other hand and bound it. His hands were freezing and heavy, without a touch of gentleness. Still, I let him dress my wounded wrists.
Finished, he stood and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Light it.” He supervised, his cold eyes glinting with silver moonlight.
I knelt next to the pile of wood and rearranged it so the smaller sticks were at the bottom. Familiar power surged through my limbs, curling, pulsing to get out. I held my palms over the wood.
Nothing happened.
I pressed my hands to my face, trying to borrow some warmth. Terror flowed freely at what Felix might do if I couldn’t light the fire. I blew into my hands, but even my breath felt icy. Again, I visualized a roaring bonfire, and still nothing happened.
Felix growled deep in his throat.
“Just give me a second,” I said, hating how desperate I sounded. “You kept those blazing cancellers on all day. But I can do this.”
I balled my fists, squeezing every ounce of energy I had left into my core. When I splayed my hands over the wood, finally, finally a stream of weak flames dripped from my hands.
The wood caught them like they were old friends being reunited, and together they danced into a blazing fire. Smoke wafted up, rich and delicious, filling the empty spaces in my soul. I leaned over the fire and breathed the smoke into the deepest parts of my body.
“Watch it,” Felix warned. “Your clothes will catch the flame.”
I sat back and patted out the smoldering spark on the hem of my filthy Council robes. Felix laid out two bedrolls and motioned me over. “No funny stuff, or I’ll never take the ropes off again.”
I only considered fleeing for two seconds. But I’d never outrun him. And then I’d never see the sun or sleep without restraints.
So I lay down and let Felix form his body into mine. “Ah, you’re warm.”
His unwanted touch set me on edge. I couldn’t relax with him so close. His breathing deepened, and his snores filled the empty sky long before I fell into welcome unconsciousness.
Nothing existed in my dreams except heat. Sweat beaded along my forehead; my robes felt heavy with moisture. I rolled, only to find another source of heat lying next to me. With foul breath.
I twisted, and my internal temperature cooled. Still, I had to get away from Felix’s exhaust fumes. My fingers brushed the shards of grass next to the bedroll. Instant fire burned through my skin.
I woke fully, realizing something important was happening. I pressed my palm into the frosty grass. I felt a burning inferno coming from the earth.
I sucked it into me, feeling the rush of lava, the heat of heavy pressure. My flesh felt like it might melt from my bones. Before the fire could consume me, I pushed it away, back into the ground.
The grass surrounding my hand lay moist and warm. I tucked my hand inside my robes, cataloging this new facet of my Element.
I can control more than just fire, I thought.
The weight of Felix’s hand on my waist didn’t feel so heavy as I settled back to sleep.
Morning dawned frigid and fast. Felix secured the cancellers around my wrists, letting my arms hang in front of my
body. Without my Element, I felt every whisper of wind—and they were more like wails.
He bustled around, packing his bag and preparing breakfast—if another hunk of cheese could be called a meal. It could, and I ate it all.
We trudged through the muck close to the trees until they petered out. Nothing existed except snow and sky, with a lone ribbon of road trailing into the horizon.
Holy blazes, it was cold. Though my Element was only several months old, it felt like a crucial part of me. I craved the fire inside the same way my body craved food and water. Without it, I felt like I’d lost part of my soul.
We walked. And walked. And walked. Thoughts of my friends were fleeting and frail. The drudgery of taking one more step, inhaling one more time, surviving one more minute, didn’t allow space for thinking. By nightfall, I moved with my eyes closed.
“Finally,” Felix muttered, his voice heavy with relief.
I jerked my eyes open and saw the most beautiful sight: Candlelight. The yellow glow shone through a few lonely windows of the village we approached. I balked at entering Cornish—they were involved in Davison’s rebellion. Surely they wouldn’t take kindly to Felix, a Tarpulin sentry. A spark of terror ignited inside, but I had no fire to respond.
No matter what, candlelight meant life. It meant I wouldn’t be sleeping on the hard ground. It meant I might find a way to escape from Felix.
That hope fled when he ordered me to stop. He released the cancellers, tucking them in his backpack before rewrapping my wrists with strips of grimy cloth.
As soon as he finished, I yanked away from his touch and pulled down my sleeves. He glared, but it didn’t hold its usual hatred. Lines of exhaustion crowded around his eyes. Maybe I could—
“Try anything funny, and you die. Cornish is on high alert.” He tossed me a cloak. “Put this on to cover those robes. We’ll be going around to a house on the south side of the village. Not a word to anyone. Got it?” His voice carried enough venom to chase away the momentary thought of escape. A flash of silver peeked from the backpack. Felix stroked the firearm almost lovingly.