No. Not a stranger. A lover. One with lips as soft as petals and skin made of moonlight. I knew her, didn’t I?
“Benton! Are you okay? Geez…crap! Wake up! Come on man!”
The night swept across the sky, swallowing every tiny prick of light until all was cloaked in black.
Chapter Four
I knew her once. A long time ago, in another life, maybe another body. I wasn’t sure, but I was certain she was different from the others and never quite fit in. Quite a lot like me. She had dark brown eyes with a hint of green hugging the edges of her irises. I wouldn’t have really noticed her or given her a second’s thought, but since my sister Shade had revealed her powers to us and my mother remembered her own magic of elemental fire after a long spell of forgetfulness, she was hard to ignore. I was made to study the art of being an Elemental Fire Warlock in the hidden Pyren of my home, where all our family’s magical history was held—secret and safe from the world.
Now, she stood out more than any other soul.
“What’s that for?” I asked
“You’ll see.”
The memory of her handing me one of her pens at school one day rolled through my mind. I remembered feeling the warmth of her skin against mine, the sensation of it, like silk so soft brushing my skin. I didn’t know her, but she’d picked me out of the crowd to hand me a pen for no apparent reason. She had kept walking too, never looking back.
I didn’t follow her. Just as fast as she stopped by, she was gone. She was nowhere in the halls past the clumps of kids rushing to their next class. I couldn’t find her, and I had excellent tracking skills.
I didn’t even know her name and now, she was gone. She wasn’t in any of my classes, I would’ve noticed her sooner, but I’d seen her around before. It was somewhat humbling that I could walk around all day long, a human anomaly of magic noticing everything, and yet, failing to see anything at all.
How had I missed a faery in my own high school?
Studying magic with my family in a school of its own allowed me to start to recognize the difference in others—the ones with magic. Some humans had sparks of it, tiny embers of power laced throughout them like tiny symbiotic organisms while others were so latent, they might as well lack any tie to magic whatsoever. The few who were aware of their powers tried their best to fit in, regardless that they would never be able to. Hiding under weakly woven armors of glamour spells which did nothing to alleviate their suffering from extreme iron sickness, these few faeries never passed my scrutinizing examination.
I could tell who wasn’t human, and I was only a junior in high school at the time.
Now, over a year later, no one could hide a crumb of magic on their person from me because I could detect it better than anyone I knew. I was a human magic detector, in a literal sense. I could sniff magic out from miles away, and it wasn’t always pleasant.
Once I graduated from high school, unlike my dear classmates, I was not heading to college, university, or trade school. Nope, I was already a seasoned veteran warrior in a magical world called Faerie. Even though I was fully human, I was anchored to magic since I was descended from one of the oldest magical Elemental families in the world.
It wasn’t easy being awesome.
Plus, it wasn’t easy staying off the radar when it came to magic. Especially with me. Yet, she’d done it. Eluded me in every way with whatever means possible. She’d done it, without batting a pretty eyelash at anyone. Especially me.
I needed to find her, know her, and talk to her. There was no method to this madness. It was an emotional pull I couldn’t control, an urge I couldn’t deny, and an itch that begged to be scratched.
Unfortunately, the very same power that helped me fight my foes also allowed me to see the quality of difference in everyone. People were no longer just surfaces to gaze at. No. They turned into actual orbs of light who breathed in and breathed out, radiating energy like it was vaporized and drifted about us in the air, aerosolized. I could feel more and more of people’s emotions as my magic grew. Feelings…emotions…everything people were usually shielded from by the lack of ability to see anything more, safely ignorant to the world of magic.
Not me. I was bombarded by the feel of it all shocking my system and pummeling every atom of my body with the energy each and every soul emitted, including those who held a shred of power within them.
It was both exhilarating and disturbing at the same time.
But, I’m ahead of myself here…I meant to remember this girl. This dark hazel brown-eyed beauty stood out amongst all the energies bouncing around the classrooms, teasing me with their coy ability to hide. Hers was stronger than anyone else’s I’d ever encountered, excluding my own. I often wondered if she had seen past my shields before I had eventually learned to control and create them to keep the outside world from bashing me in with its endless bombardment of energy.
The longer I thought about it, the more positive I was that she had. She’d known about me before I’d even had an inkling of my uniqueness and had kept the secret from all others for an undisclosed amount of time.
It was definitely time to get to know this girl, for more than one reason.
Chapter Five
I shot up from the floor and held my fists tight in front of me, ready to swing at anyone who thought it was a good idea to touch me. The entire circle of onlookers backed away in a frightened scurry, hiding behind pews and each other. Whispers and gasps rode the air echoing across the empty church, out the broken windows and across splintered boards of what remained of the walls.
“Where am I?” I demanded. I shifted on my feet, feeling a slight sway of imbalance rush through me, but I managed to breathe through it. My jacket was off and my long sweater was torn along one side and shredded across my chest where the shrapnel of the power disc had singed and disintegrated the material. The skin underneath laid undisturbed, for whatever fire had caused the burns to my sweater had been no match for my fire element.
I was fireproof.
That didn’t make my body ache any less.
“Benton, don’t do anything crazy.”
I swerved toward the voice to find her.
It was her. The girl I once knew in high school.
“You…” I dropped my arms as I gaped at her. She was here and I had no idea why she would even be near here. We used to live on the other side of the states. This was worlds away. “Isolde…what are you doing here?”
“Hi to you too,” she tossed me a long sleeved shirt as she peered out a hole in the wall. “Get dressed. We have to get out of here. They could come back.”
“I doubt they’d come back to this dilapidated shack,” one of her comrades said, a guy about my age who was holding my Empyrean blade in his hand, pointing it to the floor like it was his. His thick Irish accent had me picking apart his words to get to the flesh of what he’d said. The annoyed frown he casted towards me had me thinking he was not used to other males as strong as him hanging around. He was built, but not as husky as I was.
He didn’t offer to give my blade back.
“Besides, it’s not the few bottom feeding Unseelie I’m worried about. Their master is the dangerous one, and he seemed really interested in this one.” He lifted the sword up a bit, pointing it at me.
“That’s my sword.” I was still holding the shirt Isolde threw at me as I waited for her idiot companion to give my property back. “Might want to be careful with it. Could get burned.” I waggled an eyebrow, snickering at him.
“Don’t tease him, Ciaran, give it back.” Isolde rolled her eyes as she kept watch on the surroundings, darting her eyes out a broken window.
“They won’t come back.” I offered.
Rolling my shoulders back, I felt a pull of pain in my skull. It had given me a moment’s pause before I continued to yank off my shredded sweater. Letting the cold air of winter solstice pour over my heated skin, I purposely waited to cover up just to let her glide her eyes over me as I pretended to untang
le the top she’d given me.
I had to admit, I liked being admired by the ladies. It’d been almost a year and a half since I was a junior in high school, baffled and stunned by her beauty. Now…now I’d grown into my skin well and knew my hard workouts in the wilderness of the world taking down unruly Unseelie had done my body good. No longer did I claim the unsteady slenderness of youth clinging to my bones. Nope. Now I was well suited for fighting and every muscle was hardened with a perfected conditioning I’d kept at while hunting.
It never hurt to look like a million bucks around the opposite sex. Their lure was strong and a constant distraction if I let it get too close. Most days, the isolation of the life I’d chosen kept such problems at bay.
“How can ya be certain dey won’t be back?” Her subtle Irish accent slipped when she was flustered, and it only made me slow donning the shirt even more. I finally shimmied it on for her sake. I didn’t want her stuttering into her old thick and incomprehensible gibberish she’d fall into when agitated with me back in the day. It’d taken her a while to speak more “American” and hide her heritage. Why she had wanted to do that always baffled the shit out of me.
“I track Unseelie for a living. These kind of peons never return to a place they’ve attacked. They just don’t. It’s not in them to stay. They never come back.” I craned my neck as I watched her partner shift next to me. “At least not this exact spot.”
Ciaran snorted. I knew he didn’t believe me, but I couldn’t care less. I studied the warrior. He was also a weaker fey. Not full-blooded, but not quite a half-blood. Still, he’d inherited some magic, though not as much as I bet he let everyone else believe he had. I felt for the guy. He was almost as ordinary as full-blooded humans.
Pity.
“What da hell you smilin’ at?” Ciaran stepped forward, but Isolde was already shoving him back. His own thick accent made me wonder if any of the group were from the states.
“Don’t start anything. I need to think.”
“But ‘e was laughin’ at me.”
“So?” Isolde burned a glare into him, daring him to keep on. Now that was a woman I could entertain for more than just a spell. She was tough as nails and didn’t take any shit from peons like Ciaran. It made me remember exactly why I’d been infatuated with her in high school. She was nothing short of irresistible.
Ciaran didn’t argue any further. Instead, his frown deepened as he turned away, stomping off to check on their friends. It was a pathetic group really. I’d never been around such a weak bunch. They barely oozed of fey blood, but they had it still. I wondered how they defended themselves against attacks from the Unseelie or hell…any other faery for that matter. Their power combined might be enough to keep others from harming them and at bay, but barely just. I had more magic in my smallest toe than they all had combined.
With the exception of Isolde.
She was the glue that held this operation together. That much I could see. Maybe she had figured out a way to combine their efforts and amplify their defenses when threatened. Yes…that was something she would’ve come up with. She was brilliant in a way I’d never seen in others. Almost like a female MacGyver. A wild child, young and free.
We weren’t so different after all.
“Don’t mind Ciaran. He’s just protective of us all, and you’re a stranger. Not too hard to categorize the threat you could be to us, Benton.”
The way she said my name jerked me into the past like a wormhole. I watched her move about the room, her slender body with womanly curves hidden under the long trench coat wrapped around it. I remembered every inch of it, and I closed my eyes as the dark moments rushed back into the front of my mind, where I’d banished them from lurking ever again.
She was my first love. Probably my last.
“Benton?” Her voice pulled me back to the present, and I peered upon her gorgeous face again. Her eyes shined under the dim moonlight slipping through cracks in the roof. Her pale skin told me she didn’t go out in daylight much and avoided crowded places, even now. She was always an outsider, a loner in every definition of the word, but that’s what I’d loved about her. Nothing ordinary would do for her. Maybe that was why she’d chosen me to be her boyfriend in high school.
And I had thought it was because she liked me so damn much.
I chuckled before answering, giving her a five-star grin.
“Yes, Isolde?”
She returned the smile with one that lit up her face brighter than any sun. It made my heart jump.
“There you are…are you sure you’re alright? You seem to be lost inside your head. That was a nasty bump on the head you got from the blast. Do you need any healing?”
I laughed but cut it off immediately when I saw her smile drop from her face.
“Sorry but…I’ve seen what you have in your arsenal of groupies here. I doubt any of them can help me much, let alone heal. Besides I have my own healing magic.”
Her face crinkled into a scowl but instead of walking away, she stepped closer, pressing her lovely chest into mine.
“You best not insult m’comrads. They’re family. You’re not. Remember that.” She pushed at me and I took a step back, only because she had set me off balance. “Don’t ya forget I’ve saved yer ass more dan once? I keep score.”
She shoved a finger into my shoulder right where I’d hit it earlier. I winced but didn’t retaliate. Her accent grew stronger with her anger and had me hung up on her proximity, completely intoxicated. I was a miserable fail at resisting her charm back in high school and even more so now.
Pathetic.
Isolde turned on one foot and headed toward the rest of the group. I blew out a breath, knowing how unsmooth I’d been with her. I enjoyed a feisty woman, but Isolde wasn’t a fool. She’d never return to me after the way I’d left her so long ago.
I rubbed at the spot she’d stabbed. It just occurred to me that it hurt like the dickens. I pulled at the shirt and stared down at a blossoming bruise right under the area she’d poked. Strange. Usually, I healed rapidly.
The pain in my head where I’d cracked my head pulsed in response. I reached up to find a patch of dried blood and a lump underneath. No wonder I’d been unconscious. The fall had knocked me to hell and back. Still, I should’ve healed already. What was going on?
I held out my hand to ignite a tiny flame in my palm, but it failed to blossom. Concentrating harder, I stared hard at the creases where fire would leak into the atmosphere from within
Nothing.
I dropped my head toward the bag tied to my waist. Pulling out a healing potion from it, I pulled the cork and downed half of it. It was a faery draught a friend of my sister had mixed for me. Though I rarely drank it, faery magic had adverse effects on Elementals, I always kept some ready for any moderate to severe bodily injuries I acquired on an Unseelie hunt. It worked well for the moderate injuries, but it was the deeper ones, the life-threatening ones that were the hardest to heal. Those took more than just my magic mixtures to heal.
The liquid burned, a fiery feeling I rarely had the pleasure to endure, for I didn’t burn anymore. I was immune to it. This potion worked by blocking my magic momentarily, which wasn’t a big deal since apparently, my magic had switched off from all the trauma.
Or it was that blasted magical disc they’d thrown at me; designed to implode with the presence of fire. Just perfect.
I watched Isolde move about the room and let out an extended, longing sigh.
Too bad I had nothing in my bag of tricks to heal broken hearts.
Chapter Six
The wind blew outside this makeshift den they’d dragged me to. I hated to have to hole up when I’d rather be investigating who was behind the kidnapping and magic draining explosion, but I was tired. Healing took more than just magic to work. It took my own energy reserves to recover. There was no other choice but to hunker down for the night since my magic was severely depleted.
Isolde sat near the fire piled on the cement
floor nearby. We were in another abandoned warehouse. They were a dime a dozen in these parts and luckily, no one would be bent out of shape to patrol the area in the middle of a torrential downpour. I liked it that way. The less the humans were involved in affairs of the magical kind, the better. I hated to clean up messes with non-magics. It took time, magic and a bit of mind erasing.
No one wants to be mind-erased. I wouldn’t want to be mind-erased. It just didn’t seem fair to do to people what I wouldn’t want done to myself. I avoided it at all costs. Sometimes, it couldn’t be helped.
“Hey,” I called out toward my ex-girlfriend. Her eyes studied the flickering flames as if they could tell her intimate secrets no one else knew. I dragged my butt over to her, making sure to keep an inch or two distance between us. She was jumpy, skittish even, and I didn’t want to encroach on her personal space just yet. Yet was the word.
She never answered me.
“Isolde…I…” I cleared my throat, suddenly feeling unsure of what to say. I usually had a quirky comeback or an excellent rebuttal to anyone’s comments or something to say. This time, I had nothing to dispel her silence.
She tilted her head toward me, a sign to go on.
“Look, I’m sorry about….about all that happened before. I’m not good at relationships. You and I…we were something special. But I had to go. You were moving away too, remember? What else but to leave it the way it was?”
Isolde’s fingers rubbed against her arm, fraying the threadbare yarn of the sweater she wore layered over several shirts. That’s how you stay warm in the winter. Layers. Even her holed up sweater held together by tiny knotted strings where the yarn had separated was warmer than nothing. Gritty dirt streaked across her hands and embedded itself in the tiny lines of skin surrounding her nailbeds. Still, even with the filth that probably never came off, she was delicate in appearance. Fragile almost.