The Tempting Touch Of Fire (Elemental Awakening, Book 1) Page 3

  "Why not strike me where I stand?" came his familiar, deep, sexy voice.

  Just what the hell was he playing at?

  "I'm tired of your games, Theo. I've had a hell of a day."

  His sharp bark of laughter rang out in the air. I don't think he was actually amused, just acting a part. A part designed to scare me. My hackles rose up my back.

  "This is ridiculous. What has got in to you?" I demanded.

  "I could say the same of you," he drawled, then added, "but I do not suspect this is a sudden change. Merely a slip in the mask you have so successfully worn until today."

  He stepped forward out of the shadows, his body only a darker outline from the inky blackness cast by the Rimu Tree overhead. I couldn't see his face, but I could see his hand reach up and gently brush a few of the needle-like leaves on the tree. They made a tinkling sound, that was quite unnatural, as they floated to the ground at his feet.

  "What are your intentions in our city?" he asked, not taking his eyes from the still delicately floating leaves at his side. He seemed fascinated, if not a little wary.

  "What do you mean?" I asked, frowning into the gloom that surrounded him, knowing he could see me clearly, but I could not see him that well at all.

  "Now, now, Casey." My eyes closed briefly at the fact he was using my given name and none of his nicknames for me. "I am giving you the benefit of the doubt. Why? I'm not sure, maybe nostalgia for all those luscious feedings you provided me."

  I blinked at his strange phrasing. Feedings? Did he mean the deli sandwiches he purchased from my shop?

  "You paid fair and square for those," I replied, unsure what else to say.

  A flash of gold was all I saw from the shadows and then he was in front of my face, his hand wrapped around my throat. Although it was not tight, it did burn. I think my skin was blistering.

  "You go too far, Gi," he whispered, hot breath against my cheek. He looked in pain. His eyes clouded, even though that strange gold made them seem so very unnatural. The look of agony on his face though, was very real. "Shall I show you how far I can go in turn?" He pulled my body flush against his and heat rolled through me. But not the blistering kind at my throat, this was entirely different and completely unwanted at that moment.

  Not with his hand securely fastened at my neck.

  "Wh..what are you doing?" I croaked, licking my lips automatically as my mouth had gone bone dry.

  He groaned into the skin at the side of my face, it sounded as pained as he looked, and completely unintentional. A soft, heated brush of his lips next to my ear followed, and then he pulled back. Releasing his hold on my throat suddenly and watching on in what appeared stunned - and could that be mortified? - surprise, as I doubled over and whimpered when my fingers touched burnt flesh at my neck.

  "What the fuck, Theo?" I demanded, standing straight again and giving him my best 'back off now, buster' look.

  His eyes bore into mine, his breathing, I noticed, was rapid.

  "The green is stunning," he said, bizarrely. "I had not thought I would prefer any colour than the blue. But it does suit you, Oraia."

  Oh, man, he was going to give me whiplash at this rate. First cold and distant, then homicidal and brutal, followed by sexy and enchanting.

  "What's got into you?" I whispered, my hand still at my throat, as I took a step backwards towards the safety of my flat.

  "I do not like being lied to," he said simply. And I think quite truthfully. "I should take your head for this. Our rules demand it."

  All breath left me at his shocking and confusing words. Take my head?

  But still he looked to be in such agony at the confession. It didn't make any sense.

  "Wh..what? Why?" I croaked my demand.

  "Casey." He sighed, ran a hand through his thick black hair in frustration. Then lifted pleading hazel eyes to mine. "Please. Just leave before another of my Guard does what I cannot."

  The breath I sucked in scorched my lungs, my hands started shaking at my throat. He meant it. Although he seemed unable to take my head - a sentence that sounded so foreign to my ears, yet rang with resounding truth from his tone - someone else would. His Guard. What did that mean? Were there more like him? Like the doctor?

  Would Theo truly hurt me? I just didn't know. But the ache and longing I'd seen mixed on his face tonight, did not correspond with his threats. I was so lost, so confused. And I admit, starting to get a little angry. What the hell did he think he was saying? Doing?

  My head was shaking back and forth, my face must have shown my bewilderment. I could feel myself frowning, my heart racing, my breaths now coming in short shallow pants.

  "Theo?" was all I could manage to say.

  His mouth opened, then closed. That agony of before doubled, he looked almost crippled by it now.

  "Oraia," he whispered, taking a step backwards. "All I ever wanted was to protect you. But you tricked me." He made a strangled sound that was probably a laugh, even though it sounded too bitter to be one. "And still I want to protect you." He sounded disgusted at himself.

  My hand left my aching neck and covered my mouth, as though that would hold the sob inside. It didn't. I could feel his pain, and that made no sense. He was threatening me, had bizarrely burned my neck, it should be my pain I felt, not his. But he looked devastated. Just as confused as me.

  And I felt it all as though his emotions were mine.

  "I don't understand," I murmured.

  "Neither do I," he whispered back. And in the next instant he was gone from sight. But I could still smell him. And as I stood there shaking from head to toe, my neck stinging painfully and tears burning in my eyes, I heard his distant voice.

  "Leave the city, Cassandra. Leave before another finds you instead of me."

  Oh God. He was a lunatic, he truly believed someone would hurt me. He thought he was warning me. Protecting me. I felt sick to my stomach, and was sure that I was about to puke up pizza all over my front doorstep.

  I rushed inside the flat, securely bolting every lock on the door and sank down onto my butt. My knees held tightly against my chest, my breath coming in ragged pants. The tears came as my body shook.

  So alone.

  So scared.

  So confused.

  Why was this happening? Did this have something to do with falling in that pit and losing two days? Or was I actually going mad? There were no answers whispered through the leaves of the plants inside my house, but I could hear all the Rimu Trees down the driveway creaking and groaning, singing a lament on the still night air.

  And the dark entranceway I was sitting in...

  ...was bathed in an unnatural vibrant green light.

  Chapter 3

  It Was Completely Unfair

  I stared at my eyes in the bathroom mirror for over an hour. They fluctuated between my normal dark blue, to a vibrant, unholy green. It took a good forty minutes for me to correlate the colour change to my mood or emotions at the time. But eventually I connected the otherworldly green, that shined as though lit by a light from behind, to my anger, panic, and the sheer depth of fear I was feeling.

  Something was happening to me and I didn't understand it at all.

  I sighed for the fiftieth time, but just continued to stare blindly at the state of my eyes. They were blue again - for now - but they no longer looked like mine. Even though I didn't have an explanation for what was happening, I did know that I had changed. Not just physically, but mentally. Psychologically. I was not the Casey Eden I once was.

  I missed her already.

  Feeling entirely too miserable about this change in my life, I wandered out into the lounge of my small apartment, taking in the many potted plants and immediately feeling soothed. I frowned at the closest plant, a Chinese Evergreen. I did feel better being near it, than I had in the bathroom where only one Maidenhair Fern hangs above the bath. Now I was standing right beside a pot plant on an occasional table next to the couch. And it felt nice. Good. Right.


  I reached out and traced the tip of my finger down one of the leaves.

  The plant shivered delicately with my touch.

  I paused, glanced across the room to an Areca Palm then lifted my hand as though to beckon the branches towards me. The Areca waved back.

  My eyebrows rose up under my fringe and I slowly turned around in a circle. As my gaze swept past each potted plant in the room they bowed. Literally bent over, shook their leaves out in acknowledgement, and then stood themselves back upright again. The delicate rustling of their foliage, as they made the unnatural movement, sent a shiver right down my spine.

  This was so very, very wrong. This was not normal. I wanted to believe I was hallucinating, that the bang - or as the good doctor had said, no bang - to the head was to blame for what I thought I was seeing right now. But I am a practical person, I don't believe in out of body experiences. Just what my eyes tell me, that's all. It's always been a good philosophy to have. I wasn't so sure anymore.

  What my eyes saw was unnatural. What my eyes saw could not be explained away in practical terms. What my eyes saw scared me to death. I was different than I was before. I was more. And more made no sense. I felt a little like Alice falling down the rabbit hole, any moment now I'd wake up and this would all be a hazy dream.

  On that note, I decided to force my weary self to bed. I didn't have an answer to what was happening to me. There would be no miraculous explanation given this eve. And as I still had the shop to open tomorrow, getting sleep was my first priority. And despite bone-chilling, life-changing alterations to my make-up, despite Theo's strange threats, I would carry on. I certainly wasn't going to let a psycho stop me from living my life. And if Theo did turn up at the deli again, spouting off about someone potentially taking my head, well, I'd call the cops.

  But even as I climbed numbly between the sheets I knew that Theo, despite appearances, was tied up in what had happened to me. He understood it, or at least recognised what I had become. None of it made sense, all of it threatened to consume me with panic. But part of me acknowledged that if Theo did turn up with more deathly threats, I'd face him and not run.

  Because I needed answers to what had happened to me and for now, even though the doctor certainly proved there were more like Theo around, he was all I had. And he'd been... scared of me, threatened by my appearance. I saw it in those beautiful eyes of his, a wariness and shock that spoke volumes about the man. Whatever had blind-sided me, had absolutely thrown Theo Peters for a loop. And as bizarre as it sounded, despite the strange threats, a part of me still trusted Theo. Still believed he wanted to protect me and not do me any harm. Why else would he warn me of his Guard?

  So, he was my best bet, I think. Maybe together we could work this all out and return me to what I used to be.

  It was a loose thread to hang on to, but I was determined to cling to it for all I was worth.

  I slept fitfully, unsurprisingly, but every time I woke with nightmares of my time buried in the dirt, the trees outside would rustle, the sounds of tinkling soothing to my nerves. As though they sang a lullaby, I'd roll over and let their music lull me back to sleep. I must have woken a half dozen times throughout the night, but finally found a deep sleep at some early hour before my alarm went off.

  The dream coalesced around me; vibrant and alive, a real sense of this place I stood in existing. It was an unusual sensation. I knew I was asleep. I knew I was dreaming. But the dream was absolutely real.

  Despite the fact that my dead grandfather stood several feet away, running his fingers over the leaves of a Moreton Bay Fig Tree. The exposed roots making a striking pattern in the early evening sun. Reds and golds and crimsons and oranges filtered through the bending boughs of the tree, onto the dips and curves and ridges of the finger-like roots that crawled over the surface of the earth beneath his feet.

  He turned when I gasped, such a familiar and welcoming smile on his slightly aged face. My grandfather had been sixty when he'd died. Lost at sea while fishing one evening in his eleven foot dinghy. For some reason, he'd not been wearing his life-jacket, it had been discovered in his empty boat. A fact that I'd always found so hard to accept from a man who taught me everything I know about personal safety.

  I drank in his features, surprised at how well my mind had reconstructed his handsome face. Even if I found it hard to remember how he looked or sounded when I thought back on our times together, my dream mind hadn't forgotten a thing. At sixty, he'd looked fifteen years younger. He swore it was diet and exercise, something he instilled in my brother from an early age. Mark had followed Gramps around everywhere.

  His blond hair was flecked with patches of grey, his cheeks smoothed of stubble. His intelligent blue eyes searched mine, as his thick lips twitched into a grin. Amusement laced his features. Gramps had always been laughing about something, as though only he knew the joke that was life. Before he died, Mark had started laughing along with him. I'd always felt left out because of that. My brother knew what made my grandfather smile, but clearly Gramps had not felt that he could share the joke with me.

  "Gramps?" I heard myself say aloud.

  "Casey, sweetheart," he rumbled. So familiar. So grounding. So right. "It's about time you visited," he added, making me frown with confusion.

  I glanced around the space we were in. It was an empty field, just blades of grass swaying in a soft wind, and the Moreton Bay Fig Tree. I didn't recognise it, but I'd always been fascinated by trees, and the Moreton Bay had featured in my childhood discoveries. Not to mention in a book on fauna and flora my grandfather had gifted me when I turned sixteen.

  "Why are you here?" I asked at length.

  "Because it's started, sweetheart," he replied reasonably.

  "What's started?" I said, feeling my stomach contract with the certainty that this had something to do with the pit of dirt and the green that flashed in my eyes.

  "Your Awakening," he said softly. "How old are you now?" he asked suddenly. "Twenty-three?"

  I nodded.

  "Hmm," he mused. "I would have thought sooner," - he shrugged his shoulders then - "but we were never certain what would trigger it. What's happened, Casey? Are you safe?"

  Safe. Was I? I reached up distractedly to touch my neck where Theo had burned me, surprised to find the blisters gone. Had I dreamed that encounter? Was this reality and what happened with Theo the fantasy? I shook my head and stared at the ground for inspiration. The only answer it gave me was that my feet were bare and I was still dressed in my PJs.

  I glanced back up at my grandfather. Understanding etched soft lines on his face. I had the distinct impression that he understood more of what was going on than I did. Maybe than I ever would.

  "What's happening to me?" I demanded, vaguely aware I was interacting with the memory of a dead man and believing it was real.

  "What calling manifested first?" he asked, not answering my question at all.

  "What do you mean?"

  He turned slightly to look at the Moreton Bay and then flicked amused eyes back towards me.

  "You always did like trees. Even when you were so young. I'm not surprised it started with Earth."

  I felt my head shaking back and forth on my shoulders, confusion embedding itself deep inside my mind. What the freaking hell was all of this? As far as dreams went, this one was surreal. It felt like I was actually here, that my grandfather was alive standing before me. But the topic made absolutely no sense to me at all. Surreal.

  "Gramps," I started. "You're freaking me out. Is this real?"

  "Of course it's real, sweetheart," he replied smoothly. "Can't you feel that it's real?"

  I looked around the field we stood in, listened to the leaves rustling on the tree, the swish of the grass as it swayed together. Felt the tickle of each blade as it caressed my ankles, the dwindling heat of the setting sun. Saw the vibrancy and realism in the colours of the sunset. Smelt the crisp green aroma of cut grass. So potent I could almost taste it.

  Dream
s were never this real.

  I nodded back towards him.

  "Well then," he said with a chuckle, "that's the hard part over with. Now on to what's important right now."

  "Which is?"

  "Believe," he whispered. "Trust your instinct. If there is one thing I have taught you, remember this. Belief is a tangible thing, Casey. If there is a part of you that recognises the truth in a thing, believe in yourself. Trust that belief."

  Well hell. That didn't help much, did it?

  The dreamscape flickered slightly, Gramps wavered as though he was an image on an old cinema screen. A distant, incongruous sound echoed inside my mind. My grandfather took a step towards me.

  "We won't see each other until the next Awakening, Casey," he said urgently. "I thought we'd have more time."

  My head swung from side to side as I took in blurry distortions at various locations around the meadow. The Moreton Bay Fig seemed to shimmer slightly behind Gramps.

  "Sweetheart," he murmured, bringing my focus back to the man who had shown such patience with my inquisitive mind and constant questions when I was young. "When you wake up, remember that this is real. This is happening. You are special, Casey. Important to us all. Keep safe. Hone your skills and one day we will meet again."

  The pain at those impossible words tore through me, just as the dream was torn apart.

  I woke panting, sweating and in that moment, slightly delirious. My alarm blaring on the night-stand, matching the echoing sound from my dream mind. I felt exhausted, battered and bruised all over again. My body ached, my mind was sluggish and my heart was too weary by far.

  But that dream felt real. So real that I staggered out of bed and collapsed to my knees next to my bookshelf. My blurry gaze taking in the shapes and sizes and titles of the many books my grandfather had gifted me over the years. Weather Patterns And The Power Of The Wind. Coastal Beaches And The Turning Of Tides. Heat And The Properties Of Fire. Space And The Bending Of Time. Until my shaking fingers landed on Flora And Fauna Throughout The World.