Caress of Flame (18 page)

“Who’s there?” A voice came from down the hall that led to the bedrooms.

Isis took a reflexive step back then steeled her nerves as her stepfather walked into the room.

“Isis?” Jeff asked, surprise and fear entering his dark brown gaze. He flipped a switch and light flooded the room.

Isis looked at the man who had brought her so much suffering, but through different eyes than she’d possessed in her youth. He was shorter than she expected. Isis recalled that he’d had long hair when she’d left home, but now he was balding so that tufts of his grey hair stood up on end in patches all over his head. Jeff was fatter than she remembered too. His gut hung out over his belt like a balloon filled with water.

His face was remarkably different from what she remembered and she realized it was because she had shattered his cheekbone that long-ago night. He’d had surgery to repair the damage—that much was apparent by the faint scars on his skin.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he snapped, coming toward her.

Isis realized with surprise that she stood taller than him now. She looked down at him as he approached her cautiously.

“You were never supposed to come back here,” her stepfather said, anger and fear evident in his tone.

Then her stepfather noticed the tall, domineering presence of Pulse standing behind her silently in the darkness just outside the dwelling. Jeff gasped and took several panicked steps backward. The backs of his knees bumped into the old recliner that had been there since she was a kid, and he fell back against it clumsily.

“Is there a man here with you?” she asked as she gazed past Jeff, puzzled that Flare hadn’t yet appeared.

9“What the hell are you talking about? Fuck, you were always such a stupid kid,”

her stepfather snapped. “No one could ever understand a word you said.”

Isis ignored his jab and turned to Pulse. “I don’t understand. He’s not here.”

Pulse nodded his dark head. “I don’t sense him anywhere near. Perhaps he hasn’t arrived yet. He
was
on patrol for six hours, after all, and he may still be seeing to his duties.”

“So what do I do? Just wait here for him?” she asked, at a loss.

“We can wait for him if you like. I have a feeling he won’t be long,” Pulse remarked, eyeing her stepfather with disgust. “Let’s stand outside though. I cannot stomach this place or the company within it.” He turned and led her out onto the porch once more. The cool night air hit her flushed cheeks and she welcomed the feel of it caressing her skin.

A splinter entered her foot from the rotted wood and Isis used the pain to help her focus on the task at hand. She did her best not to glance back at Jeff, but she couldn’t resist the old familiar feeling in the pit of her stomach that she had always had in his presence. Her stomach felt as if she’d swallowed a lead cannonball. And her heart was beginning to ache painfully.

“Who’s there, Dad?” Maria’s voice surprised Isis into turning around to face her sister. She was heavy with child and fat besides. Her long titian hair, a mat of greasy strands on her head, drew Isis’ gaze like a magnet. Maria looked as bad as Jeff. The beauty she had possessed as a child was no more than a shadow on her haggard, blemished face.

Maria took one look at Isis and a flame of pure hatred and malice lit up her light brown eyes. “What the fuck are you doing here, bitch?”

Isis gritted her teeth at her sister’s high, shrieking voice. “I’m here to save Jeff’s sorry life,” she said with a patience she didn’t feel.

Maria flew at her, and before Isis could react, her sister had raked her claws down her face. Isis fell back, not wanting to hurt her sister with her new strength. Isis was afraid that if she fought back she might kill Maria with a single blow.

Pulse came forward and caught Maria’s hands before they could do any more damage. “Woman, you will not touch her again,” he told her, shoving her roughly back.

Isis gently wiped the bloody claw marks on her face, wincing at the pain.

“You can’t have him,” her sister screamed in rage.

“I don’t want him,” Isis told her. “I
never
wanted him, can’t you understand that?”

“Yes you did! Do you think I didn’t see the looks you shared? Do you think I don’t know about all the times you shared a bed with him? I saw it all, but I still won!” Her sister gave a horrible, shrieking laugh. “I’ve got him now and you can’t take him from me!”

9Maria launched herself once more at Isis, but this time Isis held out her hands and caught her sister’s flailing ones within her fists. “Stop it, Maria.” Isis spoke as forcefully as she could manage. “You’re only making a fool of yourself.”

“
I’m
a fool?” her sister shrieked. “You’re the fool, you stupid, ugly bitch.” She struggled and failed to reclaim her hands. Isis held her with an easy strength that surprised even her, keeping her at bay with little effort. Pulse had moved to stand behind her once more, lending her his strength should Isis have need of it. But Isis was strong enough on her own. Flare had taught her that.

“Sit down, Maria,” she said stonily, pushing her away so that her sister stumbled and sat down, hard, on the couch. “I don’t want to hurt you,” Isis said patiently.

“I don’t care if you fight back or not, I’m still going to kick your ass,” Maria choked out in a shrill voice that grated harshly on Isis’ Shikar-sensitive ears.

Isis tried to appeal to her sister’s reasoning. “You’re pregnant. You shouldn’t try to fight me. You could hurt the baby.”

“Fuck you, bitch!” Her sister physically spat at Isis but missed her mark. “You’re just jealous that this is my baby and not yours.”

Isis gave up. She turned her back on her sister and went out onto the porch again, looking out into the distance. “Maybe he won’t come. Maybe he changed his mind.”

Pulse looked over her head and smiled. “I would say that is a fanciful notion, my dear,” he said.

Isis turned and saw Flare standing behind her, inside the house. Both her stepfather and her sister were staring at him with dumbfounded looks on their faces as he appeared before their eyes like magic.

“Flare,” she said, approaching his side. Her relief at seeing him safe lasted only long enough for her fear of what he intended to do to take hold. “Don’t do this,” she begged.

Flare was so hot Isis could actually see the waves of heat washing from him. “He deserves to die for what he did to you,” Flare said from behind clenched teeth. He put out his hand and gently wiped away the blood still oozing from the claw marks on her face. Isis felt a gentle heat and her skin healed instantly. Flare turned from her and looked down at Jeff with a sneer. “So you’re the bastard who hurts defenseless children.”

“No,” Isis cried, but it was too late. Flare grabbed her stepfather’s neck and lifted him clear off his feet with an easy strength. With a flick of his wrist Flare threw him out the living room window. Wood and glass flew and the house groaned like it might collapse at any moment.

Isis ran out the door, beating Flare to her stepfather’s fallen form, struggling to get up from the hard ground. “Stop it, Flare,” she said, putting herself between the only two men who had ever mattered in her life. “I mean it.” Flare ignored her and gently pushed her away. He looked down at Jeff once again. Flare reached for the cowering man and punched him—right where Isis had punched him years before. Isis heard the bones fracturing in his cheek and she winced reflexively.

9She pulled at Flare. “This is stupid and pointless,” she said in an effort to coax him away from his death grip on her stepfather’s head. Flare slammed Jeff’s head to the ground and Isis feared for a moment that Flare had killed him. Her stepfather went limp and lifeless beneath Flare, alarming her further.

Flare stood back with disgust. “He’s passed out. The cowardly bastard.”

Isis took the opportunity to take one of his hands in hers. “Let’s go home. You’ve punished him enough. We can go now. We don’t ever have to think about these people again.”

Maria screamed and ran out of the house, charging Isis. Flare reached out and grabbed the woman by the material of her shirt at the nape of her neck. “You are with child and I will not strike you. But I warn you, keep your hands off my mate,” he commanded the shrieking woman.

Maria immediately quieted and Flare released her, her fear of him more than apparent. Jeff moaned behind them, attracting Flare’s attention once again. Isis grabbed onto Flare’s shirt, but she didn’t hold on for long.

Something didn’t feel right. Beyond the fact that she was trying to keep Flare from killing her worthless excuse for a dad, she felt a slowly growing alarm wash through her.

The feeling of a thousand feathers tickling her brain made her lose focus. There was a dead weight in her chest that stole her breath and her heart raced.

“Flare,” she said slowly, looking around her for the threat she knew lingered nearby.

“Flare,” she called again when he didn’t answer her.

“What is it?” Pulse had heard the new tone of worry in her voice.

“Daemons,” she said, shaking. “We’re about to have some company.”

10
Chapter Fifteen

The ground rumbled beneath her feet. “What was that?”

Pulse looked around and Flare immediately left his position by the slowly awakening Jeff. Neither of the two Shikars answered her question. They stood side by side, legs braced apart, both looking ready to do battle.

“Do you see anything?” Isis asked them both.

The ground rolled, sending all of them stumbling. A horrible, deep roaring sound filled her ears and slammed into her chest with an almost physical force. The feeling of her skin stretching taught over her bones intensified and she shivered uncontrollably.

The roaring continued, deafening as it grew louder, closer, but Isis couldn’t see where the threat was coming from.

She didn’t have a chance to. The ground beneath her feet rose several feet, throwing her off balance so that she fell back. The ground sank then rose again as something broke through it with such violence that it audibly shook the house on its foundation.

A great, giant worm-looking thing surged into the sky, its body speeding from the hole in the ground endlessly, as if the thing were miles long. On the back of the worm’s neck was a Daemon—larger than any she’d seen before—and it was riding the worm with ease, a leather stirrup held in his hand, the end of it pierced through the head of the worm to keep it in place and to allow the Daemon complete control of the creature.

“What the fuck is that?” Isis surged to her feet with an alien speed that astonished her.

“That is a Canker-Worm,” Flare said. “Get back, Isis.”

Isis felt her Foils pierce through the skin of her fingertips. Ignoring Flare’s warning, she jumped on the back of the worm and dug her blades into the disgusting mess that was the worm’s flesh. Flare jumped the same time as she, landing on a different part of the worm’s massive body, and shoved his own red-hot Foils into the monstrosity.

The Canker-Worm let out a booming cry that vibrated Isis’ skull.

Flames spread out from where Flare pierced the worm and ran a great length down the monster’s body. Isis pulled her claws out and sank them deep again. And again.

And again. Soon she was covered head to toe with the beast’s blood and gore, yet still she fought on.

The worm slammed onto the grass, shaking the earth, its tail still stuck in the hole it had made for itself in the ground. The move threw Isis around and her legs flew out behind her. Only her Foils, buried deep, kept her from launching into the air.

The Daemon that rode the beast jumped her. She’d forgotten about this beast while she’d pounded on the worm. It grabbed her hair, pulling out strands so that she cried 10out with pain. Then all pain was forgotten as she grew angrier and angrier, almost reflexively. With a roar of rage, she lunged back at the Daemon and sank her arms elbow deep into its rib cage.

The Daemon shrieked a horrible sound and threw her off. This time her Foils did not save her and she fell to the ground with a thud. But she was not deterred in the least. She rose swiftly and jumped back onto the worm. It was flailing madly, but she managed to race up its unsteady length to where the Daemon waited and Isis engaged it in battle once more.

The Daemon landed a blow to the side of her head that made her see stars. Feeling her anger mount to unbelievable highs, a large Foil grew from her wrist. It looked like the blade of a glowing great sword in the darkness. With one swipe of the blade she took the Daemon’s head. Then, wasting no time, she plunged her hand back into its chest and sought out its heart, tearing it free when she found it.

She tore the heart in half with one tug of her hands.

Tossing the organ over her shoulder, she watched as the Daemon fell, dead, to the ground. Isis ignored it, bent down and drove the sword in her wrist into the worm once again. The great beast shuddered and screamed its rage and pain into the night—the sound like a thousand nails scraping down a chalkboard all at once.

Isis had forgotten about Pulse. The man walked with a casual grace to stand at the mouth of the worm. “Clear,” he shouted and both Isis and Flare flung themselves from the beast. Pulse raised his hands and a thick bolt of lightning streaked down from the sky.

It hit the worm’s head dead center. The worm screamed and lunged at Pulse, who easily sidestepped its attack with alarming speed. Another bolt came down with a clashing sound, and all the hairs on Isis’ body rose from the static electricity in the night air. This bolt too hit the worm’s head, singeing its brain to nothing. The gigantic worm fell limp, dead, with one last mighty groan that shook the earth.

Flare held his hands out and liquid fire poured forth—his hands were like two great flamethrowers—and the flames engulfed the once mighty beast. The smell of stinking, rotting, burning flesh filled the air, choking Isis, making her gag. Flare found the fallen form of the Daemon and immediately set it aflame too.

The three Shikars stood and watched as the carcasses of their enemies burned. They were reduced to ash within ten minutes, the bodies destroyed by the intense heat of Flare’s fire. The smell of it, however, lingered like a bad memory.