Fiery Nights (7 page)

I took a deep breath. “Here goes.”

Tristan

Although I knew Maya was special, I didn’t realize the
magnitude of how deep it could be. When she began to speak again, I leaned
forward, enraptured by her story.

“We had a fireplace in the living room of the house I grew
up in. My parents often had a fire on the colder nights. And I’d sit in front
of it in a little rocking chair my grandmother gave me and just watch the fire.
Over time, I realized I could do things with it—make it rise and fall, or make
it move toward a log to make it catch. I would try to get my parents’
attention, the way kids do—’Look at me!’ I’d say and show them how I could make
the fire move.

“At first they didn’t believe me. But when they realized I
was telling the truth, they got scared. After I went the bed, I’d overhear them
arguing about it. What they were going to do. Should they tell someone? A
psychologist, maybe? Or someone specializing in the supernatural? But then,
they thought it was too much for a kid. They tried to ignore it and hoped it
would go away.”

“But Maya, didn’t they see that what you have is a gift?”
Mother asked. “When you’re given such abilities, you should cultivate them, not
suppress them.” She shot a quick look at me. I scowled back at her in return.
Mother and I had different feelings about my abilities. If she had to live with
it for one day, I’m sure she’d change her tune.

Maya answered. “I guess they just wanted me to lead a normal
life. When you’re a kid, being
special
really isn’t so special. You just
want to be like all the other kids.”

“What happened as you grew up?” Mother asked.

“My abilities didn’t go away as my parents had hoped. They
learned to live with it and not fear it or wonder about it after awhile, I
think. Kind of like it just being a quirk of someone in your family. But when I
became a teenager, I started playing with it more. Doing tricks in the
fireplace. They’d tell me to stop showing off.” She grinned. “I guess it was
kind of flashy.”

“Flashy?” I repeated. “It’s rather amazing, I would think.
And what about now? You’re a firefighter. That would be kind of an odd
coincidence.”

She smiled in a way that made my inner core simply melt. At
that moment, I wanted to scoop her up and find someplace quiet where we could
be alone. Somewhere we could continue exploring each other like we had last
night where I had only just starting getting to know her body. There was so
much more I wanted to know about her—her personality, her likes, and her body
and desires. But that would have to wait because right now I really wanted to
hear the rest of Maya’s story.

I smiled back at her in a way I hoped would cause the same
effect she had on me.

“Yes, Tristan, it would,” she agreed, raising one eyebrow.
Why was she doing this to me? Didn’t she know how hard it was to concentrate
when I simply wanted to pounce on her? We were at my parents’ house for crying
out loud, nobody wants to think about sex around their parents, but that
promising smile was overwhelming enough to take over all my senses.

Maya ran her fingers through her straight black hair. I
watched her hands that had run so gently over my body last night, stroking me
into exhilaration and making me beg for more. She continued, “I use this skill
I have with fire—or whatever it is that I have with it—to kind of sense where
the fire is going, what it’s going to do. If there’s going to be a big blowout
with walls coming down or something like that, I sense it a moment before it
happens. It’s not enough to stop it, but it’s enough to sometimes get people
out of the way.”

“Fascinating,” I said so softly I wasn’t sure if she heard
me. A sort of premonition for where fire was heading. Was it foresight? Or a
connection with fire? Either way, it was something I didn’t understand, nor did
I think anyone in my family had ever experienced.

“But sometimes, sometimes I can,” Maya said.

“Can what, my dear?”Mother asked. I noticed that she was
barely moving, as entranced by Maya’s description of her connection with fire
as I was. If not more so.

“Sometimes I can control it,” Maya said. “The fire. When
it’s small enough and not flaming out of control, I can sort of—talk to it.
Calm it or slow it down. It may sound crazy, but it’s true. It works.”

“How does it work, Maya?”I asked.

“I’m not sure I can explain it. I’ve never told anyone
before besides my parents, you know. And I only told them so much because they
didn’t want to encourage it, like I explained.” She hesitated before saying
anything else. Then she said, “One time I was on a call for a house fire. The
fire was in the kitchen and I was the first one to enter the room. The fire was
spreading across the kitchen walls right toward a pan filled with grease on the
stove. I was trying to extinguish it, but it was moving too quickly. I knew if
it hit the grease, the situation would get a whole lot worse in an instant. But
my attempt to put out the fire with the hose was only so effective. So instead
I used my mind to communicate with it. I tried to tell it to go in the opposite
direction. Not out loud like I’m talking to you now, but in my head. I spoke to
it gently and willed it to go away from the stove.”

When she paused, I realized I’d stopped breathing as I
listened to Maya’s story. I sat back and resumed normal breathing patterns and
waited for her to continue. Mother must have been doing the same thing since
she readjusted in her chair and then focused intently on Maya again.

Maya continued. “Believe it or not, the fire started moving
in the other direction. And it had slowed down. It defied all logic from what I
had experienced with house fires in the past. But now, it was under control
somewhat so when other firefighters came in, we were able to extinguish all the
flames.”

“Amazing,” I whispered.

She truly was one-of-a-kind. Not just with her special glow,
but she was powerful in her own right. And in bed, forget it, I couldn’t think
about that now and get an erection in front of my parents.

My mother started to speak, but then stopped. Maya noticed
as well and encouraged her to continue. “Isabella, would you like to ask me
something?”

Mother hesitated, something I’d rarely seen in someone as
confident as she was. Then she said, “I was just wondering—if it wouldn’t
bother you—if you could show us. You know—what you can do with fire.”

Maya’s face darkened for a moment. Oh no, we’d gone too far.
Being treated like a freak was something I had experienced and I’m sure she
didn’t find it welcoming.

“Mother, I don’t think that’s appropriate. This is not a
circus; she shouldn’t be asked to perform.”

Maya surprised me by saying, “No, it’s okay, Tristan. I know
it’s meant well. It’s just not something I show people often, you know? Give me
a moment to think, clear my head.”

Our eyes met. I nodded in understanding.

She looked around. “This fire pit out here will work just
fine,” she said.

She then gathered some pieces of wood and small twigs for
kindling and put them in the fire pit. “I left my purse inside. There’s a
lighter in there.”

“There’s one in here,” Mother said, reaching into a basket.
She handed over one of those longer lighters people often used for lighting
grills.

Maya worked her magic with the fire and had it lit in no
time. Then she sat back.

“Ready for the freak show?” she asked. She didn’t wait for
an answer, but focused her gaze onto the tiny flames and my eyes followed suit.

“I’m going to make it rise now, double in size.”

I watched the flames rise; indeed, they did double in size!
And it happened so gradually, as if it took no effort on her part.

“Oh my God,” Mother said.

“That’s nothing, really,” Maya said, brushing it off. “Now
I’m going to make it rise more and move. Watch it move steadily from right to
left, right to left.”

I watched the fire, entranced, as it did exactly as she
said, moving sinuously from one direction to another as if it were dancing.

“Brilliant!” Mother squealed, clapping her hands in delight.

“And now, a funnel,” Maya said.

The fire then swirled counter-clockwise; indeed, it did
appear to take a funnel form. I’d never seen anything like it.

Maya looked at me and giggled. “It’s not that amazing,
Tristan. Your mouth is hanging wide open.”

Quickly closing my mouth, I recovered my wits. “What about
the night of the fire at Vamps? What happened that night?”

She inhaled. “There was only so much I could do that night.
There was an explosion that quickly spread from one wall through the club.”

“You must have done something,” I said. “Nobody was killed.”

“I did whatever I could to will the fire to slow it down,
calm it, direct it away from where the crowd was rushing. It wasn’t a small
kitchen fire, though, so I don’t know how effective I was.”

“I think you had to have been pretty influential that night
in saving people’s lives. And possibly in keeping the fire from progressing.
The damage was bad, but it could have been worse. Most of the building was
untouched.”

She shrugged.

“So maybe I have to thank you for saving what was to become
my new business. The building was salvageable. I got it for a steal. It was a
quick sale since the owner had business to tend to overseas and said he
couldn’t oversee the renovations when they rebuilt the club.”

Maya clicked her tongue on the roof of her mouth.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Nothing. Go on.”

I took her hand in mine. “Thank you, Maya. For everything.”

When I saw the earnest look in her blue eyes, she left me
speechless.

“My pleasure. It changed my life for the better too.”

I was hoping that she met by meeting me. After searching my
brain for an appropriate response, all I could think of were words about fate
and destiny, too heavy for the moment, especially in front of Mother.

As if on cue, Mother spoke. “You have an affinity for fire,
Maya. One of the four ancient elements. That’s an ancient power. One we don’t
see much anymore.”

“Would that explain her light?” I asked.

Mother thought for a moment. “Perhaps it would.” She
furrowed her brow as she looked out onto her gardens. “There is so much magical
history with light versus darkness. The fact that you two were brought together
shouldn’t be ignored.”

I shifted in my chair and noticed as Maya suddenly feigned
interest in a lock of her black hair.

Mother naturally ignored our obvious discomfort, as always
thinking of the bigger magical picture.

“Tristan, Maya must be the light to counter the darkness.”

“Mother, what are you talking about? We just met. You’re
going to scare Maya away!”

“It’s okay, Tristan. I’d like to hear more.”

No woman had shown me such loyalty before. Any other woman I
had bedded would surely have bolted on hearing anything so heavy. I wanted to
mouth
Thank you
,but instead made a mental note to thank her
later.

“I don’t know,” Mother said. “But light and darkness are
opposites, like yin and yang. They need balance. One shouldn’t exist without
the other.”

“So you’re saying we might balance each other out?” Maya
asked, and then caught my eye for a prolonged moment.

“I’m saying you two need to work together to figure it out.”

Maya

Isabella asked Tristan to excuse us so we could have some
time for “girl talk”. Tristan went to find his father.

I didn’t know how I felt about this, being left with a woman
who was so sure in her skin and thus so powerful, so attuned to the Earth, and
who now knew my secret.

Plus, she was the mother of the hot guy I started sleeping
with, whom I just might have some hidden destiny with or whatever.

“Thank you, Maya, for staying to chat.”

“What did you want to talk about?”

She tapped her finger on the table as if debating what to
say next. “Some friends and I—we meet here every month during the full moon.
Perhaps you’d like to join us one day.”

“Are they—” I didn’t want to come out and say witches as it
sounded weird coming out of my mouth. Would it be offensive? Who knew the PC
terms in their world? I searched for a suitable word. “Gifted? Like you?”

She nodded.

“Is it—a coven?”

“We call it a circle,” she clarified. She tapped her fingers
again. “I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but I think you have much
potential.”

“For what?”

“To tap into your gifts. And maybe for a more selfish
reason—to help my son.”

“Oh. Um. I don’t know what to say. I mean, this is all
coming on very quickly. I don’t even know how to process everything yet.”

“Wait right here, please,” Isabella said. “I’ll be right
back.” She went inside for a moment and came back with an ornate carved wooden
box. When she opened it, I saw a colorful set of cards set against maroon
velvet lining.

“Would you let me do a reading?”

“What kind of reading?” I asked.

“Just some Tarot cards. Have you ever had them read for
you?”

“No.” I leaned forward. “Sure, why not.”

Isabella shuffled the cards and explained how she’d be
reading in the Celtic Cross fashion. She had me concentrate on whatever problem
or concern I had, and then pick a number of cards. She laid them out for past,
present, future, hopes, obstacles and so on. Each time she turned over a card,
she said a few words on each, but she didn’t get animated until the end.

“The Star. Another major arcana. You’ve been feeling the
lack of a sense of meaning in your life. And the lack of someone special. You
desire more.”

Suddenly this reading became very personal and I began to
blush.

“You’ll find a connection with someone special, something so
deep that you will feel your tie is unbreakable. However, you will be hurt by
someone, forced into estrangement.”

“By the same person?”

She shook her head. “It’s unclear. You will discover a new
ability and things will work out for the better.”

I shook my head. “What does this mean? A special connection,
estrangement, new ability? I’m confused.”

Isabella put down the cards and looked at me. “Be true to
yourself and follow your path. Only then will you get what you desire.”

For once in my life, I was speechless. Then, trying to lift
the mood, I laughed. “Whoa, that was intense.”

“Need a moment to yourself?” she asked.

“No, I’m fine.” I needed to direct the attention away from
me. “So, Isabella, are you psychic? Can you see the future?”

She smiled warmly. “I just help people understand what’s
troubling them, maybe help them uncover their true desires. I lead them toward
the path they want to go down.”

“Oh,” I said, not knowing what I should say. “Is there
anything else you wanted to talk to me about?”

Isabella sat back in her chair. “Perhaps I shouldn’t be
telling you this as Tristan might get upset. He’s so protective of his
privacy.”

I braced myself for what was coming. What did she want to
tell me?

“You’re the first woman he’s ever brought home. It’s such as
pleasure to meet you. You seem to have brought a change on him, a lightness,
and I don’t mean anything to do with the light he sees around you. I mean a
lightness to his soul, in contrast to all the weight he feels he’s carrying on
his shoulders.”

“Thank you, Isabella. We haven’t known each other long, but
I care about him and I’m glad to be of any help to whatever burden he feels.”

“That’s the thing, Maya,” Isabella said. “Tristan’s gift—he
believes it’s a curse because he can’t live a normal life. And maybe he’s
right. But for any curse, there’s a way to lift it. I don’t believe it’s a
curse, though. I think it must be a gift. He must have been given those
abilities for a reason. And if he learns to understand them and develop them,
he’ll find peace. Maybe even happiness.”

I realized I tilted my head, which I often did unconsciously
when thinking. “What do you think the reason might be?”

“I believe that he was born to be a healer. My
grandfather—Tristan’s great-grandfather—had an ability to heal people. I don’t
know how he did it, but the stories I heard were that he could see things in
people the rest of us couldn’t. And whatever he saw in them gave him insight on
how to heal them. Tristan must have inherited this gift. His abilities to sense
darkness and sadness in people must be to be able to heal that sadness.”

I thought about it. “That would make sense. But Tristan
hasn’t described his visions as a very positive thing. Not insightful at all.
In fact, they sound rather terrifying.”

Isabella leaned back and smiled. “That’s where I think you
come in, Maya. I believe in destiny,” she said. “Maybe you’ve come into
Tristan’s life to somehow help him tap into that ability. Maybe he needs you to
be all that he can be.”

Whoa, that was a lot to process. As of yesterday morning, I
was just a firefighter who had a few harmless fantasies about some hot guy she
saw in a club. Okay, maybe I had my weird little fire thing, but still, I was
used to that. Now today I’m some sort of partner in healing or something with a
guy who I just met? Granted I already felt connected to him in some way, but to
work on something that intense together? So life changing?

“I don’t know, Isabella. That seems a little out there to
me.”

“I can understand that,” she said. “Just do one thing for
me, please. Be open to it. Don’t shut the idea out completely.”

Something about this woman, almost a complete stranger,
believing in me made me want to believe in myself. Maybe I didn’t think I
hooked up with Tristan for anything more than the hottest sex of my life. But
that didn’t mean I couldn’t be open to the possibility that we could be more.
Who knows? Maybe we could sort of help each other out somewhat? Isn’t that what
people in healthy relationships do—encourage each other to be the best person
they can be?

“I can do that,” I said.

Tristan

“I don’t know what it is about her, Dad,” I said as we sat on
the deck. “But it’s as if I’m under a spell.”

My father chuckled. “That’s what happens.”

“When what happens?”

“When you find the right one”

I leaned forward in the Adirondack chair. “But how do you
know it’s not just—lust? Or infatuation?”

“You figure it out eventually.”

“It’s not easy.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“I don’t know. It’s all moving so fast. I’m crazy about her,
but I’m freaked out too. I don’t know if I’m ready for a—relationship.”

“
That
happens too.”

“Why? Because of my abilities?”

He shook his head. “No, because you’re a guy. We’re all
screwed up.”

“Tell me about it.”

My father stood up. “I’m going to get a refill. Need
anything?”

I looked at my still-full glass. “No thanks.” I rose too.
“I’ll go see what they’re up to.”

Maya

When Tristan walked into the courtyard I was pulled back to
the here and now. “Is it safe to come back?” he asked.

“Yes, come on in, Tristan.” His mother stood and said, “I
better go find Eric. We’re meeting some friends later. But you two should stay.
The house is yours for the evening.” Then as if remembering something, Isabella
said, “Hold on, I have something for you, Maya.” She returned in a moment with
a necklace—a gold oval with an S carved on it. “Would you wear this talisman,
please? It’s for protection. It’s something our family creates for people we
care about or want to protect.”

I ran my finger over the smooth metal, running my finger
over the carved S, presumably for Stone. Touched, as I just met this woman, I
could only say, “Thank you.”

“If I were to bet,” Tristan said, “I’d say Maya is the
protectress. Protecting those around her.”

Isabella nodded slowly as if considering that idea. Then she
said, “Tristan’s talisman is silver. For healing. Yours is made of copper, for
all-around protection and well-being. Focus on it from time to time. It has
been consecrated in a circle. But from now on, its energy, it’s effectiveness,
comes from within, from you.”

“I will,” I said, putting it on over my head.

After we said goodbye and Tristan’s parents left, we walked
back out into the gardens.

“So has my mother grilled you to death?”

“Ah ha. She has a way of coaxing the most hidden secrets out
of someone. You know I’ve never told anyone outside of my family about the fire
thing before.”

“She has a way of doing that to people. Part of her charm, I
suppose.”

I reflected on that. In the short time we’d met, I shared my
deepest, darkest secrets. She also shared her hopes for her son and how she
believed I might be a key to her dreams. She believed in him. She believed in
me. It was rare to meet someone to believe in you these days, let alone trust
you so soon in this cynical world.

She left quite the impression on me. I wondered if she had
that effect on everyone she met.

Tristan must have been deep in his own thoughts because he
arrested his pace suddenly to look at me. “I’m glad you trusted us enough to
share it. I’m glad you can trust me.”

Trust. That must be the theme of the day.

“Let’s not count our chickens before they hatch,” I teased.
“I mean, you are still a weirdo and all.”

“And so are you, my dear.” He pulled me to his chest and
searched my eyes. “Honestly, you don’t think we’re too—out there?”

“I thought your parents were lovely. Is your Dad, you know,
like you?”

“Witchcraft is strong in Dad’s family, but he doesn’t seem
to have inherited any of the—sensitivities. Not like Mom being a medium and
all.”

“Come again now?” I shook my head. “She just read my Tarot
cards.”

“She didn’t mention how she can communicate with the dead?”

“Um—no. I think I would’ve remembered that.”

“She was probably too fascinated with you. Same as me. Only
my thoughts are far more lascivious. I find you even more alluring now that I
know you won’t judge me as much as I feared.”

Without any warning, he bent down to kiss my lips and
enclose me in a fierce embrace. My body instantly responded as I melted into
his arms and my lips met his with equal enthusiasm.

“How do you set me on fire so quickly?” I asked in between
kisses.

He pushed me against the wall of his parents’ house. “You’re
the one who controls the fire, baby. And you have it raging inside me right
now.”

I lifted one leg and he caressed from my ankle toward my
thigh. Then he grabbed my other leg and lifted me up, holding me against the
wall. My flowing black skirt, which I earlier thought was appropriate for
meeting my man’s parents, seemed much more suggestive as it hiked up near the
tops of my thighs.

“Here? What if the neighbors see?” I asked.

“That just makes it all the hotter,” he replied. He looked
around the neighboring houses quickly. “It’s dark out. They’d only see shadows.
Besides, I don’t see any peeping Toms looking for a free show right now.”

When he pressed himself against me there, I moaned. The
whole thing felt so wrong—and of course, so right. All the buildup from the
night in the cemetery and then outside the building all came rushing back. Who
cared if someone peeked? Actually, he was right. The prospect made it all the
hotter.

Pinning me against the wall with his weight, he managed to
pull my panties down and slide them off one leg and then the other.

“You’re quite deft with your hands,” I said.

“I haven’t even gotten started.” He reached under my skirt
and touched me there and I realized just how skilled he actually was with his
hands. How he managed to pin me against the wall, touch me, and kiss me was a
mystery. But he was so tall and muscular, my weight was probably nothing to
him.

“Oh yes. You’re right. This is perfect. Fuck me now before I
come right here.”

“Don’t hold back. Go ahead.”

He touched me more intensely, putting pressure on just the
right spot.

Oh yeah, there.

I looked around all the bright reds in the garden while the
intensity heightened, and then exploded.

“Oh God!” I cried.

“Yeah. Shit yeah.”

Still dazed by my climax, I was surprised when he put me on
my feet. “Hold on, baby.” He unzipped his pants and pulled them down just far
enough to release his cock. “I want to fuck you up against this wall.”

I looked around quickly to make sure no strangers had
wandered into the garden and were watching our little performance. “Hell, yes.”

“And I want to see these.” He unbuttoned my blouse and undid
my bra.

I looked down and saw my pale breasts shining in the
moonlight. Tristan was right about it being dark out, but the moon was clearly
putting the spotlight on us if my breasts were any indication of the scene. If
anyone was looking—well, now they’d see a lot. Strange how I didn’t feel
uncomfortable about the prospect; the idea of getting caught turned me on all
the more.

What was Tristan doing to me? All this outdoor recreation
was new to me—and so exhilarating.