Inside the Fire Book One in the Warden's Series (5 page)

I smiled to myself and without looking at
him I asked him simply. "Who will be the man with the axe?" I heard
a muffled laugh behind me.

"I was hoping it would be you." He said.

I could feel his eyes burning into the back
of my head. Was he having the same issue I was right now? Was he
feeling some imaginary pull and not understanding what it was?

The rest of the day was rather quiet. No
other teachers made me stand up in front of class. No other
students made stupid vampire jokes. Well I shouldn't say they
didn't, they did just not to my face. Passing in the hall was
another story all together. Vampira, Mortisha, and Lady Death were
among my favorites.

****

It’s tough being conflicted. One second
feeling powerful and amused to suddenly guilty and afraid. I spend
more time trying to figure out what emotion is tied to what parent
then I do on where I’m placing my feet. This will prove to be my
biggest pitfall.

I was walking out the door of the school at
the end of the day when I planted face first into a hard object. I
groaned and stepped back dazed, rubbing my nose I looked up and
into those blue eyes. I was in a trance my heart pounded, my palms
started to sweat, and my knees were weak.

He was over six feet, thin, maybe 150
pounds. Blue jeans that were faded at the knees, a white t-shirt,
and he smelled like Heaven. I caught myself staring. I hoped that I
could avert my eyes before he saw, however I was too late. The
smile was already spreading across his lips before I knew it. That
remarkable smile. I just stared at the way his mouth curved it was
enticing. I could feel a love struck smirk making its way across my
face.

What's wrong with me?

“You should watch where you are going.” He
said stuffing his hands in his pockets. He looked at me waiting for
a response, but the words just wouldn’t come out of my mouth. “You
mute?” He teased stepping around me and walking down the hall
towards the gym.

I stood there for another moment watching
him walk away. I pulled myself together, shook off the
infatuation.

What the Hell was wrong with me?

I had boyfriends back home. I had even been
on dates, gone to dances, and been a somewhat teenager. However, I
had never been rendered speechless. I had certainly not had
someone, for lack of better words, take my breath away. Anger
suddenly filled me and I turned on my heel and stormed out of the
building, not stopping till I got to my car.

What the Hell was he thinking, standing in
my way when I was Hell bent on getting out of there? What the Hell
was he meaning by asking if I was mute? Why the Hell was I fucking
swooning over him?

I pulled down the visor and opened the
mirror. Staring back at me were charcoal eyes. My skin was already
tingling as the rays of the sun hit me. I had to get moving before
my fingertips started to burn. I huffed a few more times and went
to start my car. When there was an impatient knock on my
window.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I cursed
before throwing my hands to my face.

I rolled my window down
thinking it was one of the preachers daughters
(there were so many in this town)
that had some invitation for me to join their church's youth
group so I could celebrate all things Jesus.

“You know I’ve had just about enough of
you...” I cut myself short when those stupid blue eyes were looking
at me. That stupid smile on his lips! “Can I help you?” I barked
hoping my frustration wasn’t as noticeable as it felt. The last
thing I needed him to know is that the sight of him made my pulse
throb.

“Oh, so you can speak. I thought you could
considering our conversation in English.” He said sounding
surprised. “Here.” He handed me a folded slip of paper. “It’s my
number in case you feel the urge to talk more or if you want just
text, either way it’s up to you.”

I glared at him.

Was this freak following me and why was my
heart pounding again!

“Yeah, thanks” I whispered holding the paper
tightly.

He gave me another smile and walked away. I
was pretty sure he would be in my driveway when I got home at the
rate this day was going. I was ending my first day with a stalker.
Thank god he was at least cute. I shook my head and pulled from my
parking spot.

Impulse Text

My mother wasn’t home when I got there. She
must have gone out shopping or to some flea market in town. Trust
me this wasn’t out of the ordinary for her. She likes to find old
things and make them look like new again. We have a ton of items
around the house she has restored over the years. It’s a productive
hobby and keeps her out of trouble.

One time she was gone for three days and
when she came back she had six bags of miscellaneous crap and a
kitten. Why a kitten one might ask, I have no bloody idea. We had
that cat for several months before one day it just up and
disappeared, I was distraught.

I put my bag down in the living room and
went to the kitchen, running my fingers through my hair. Opening
the refrigerator door in search of sustenance I sighed. I was anti
school food, so I was starving. I glanced around the shelves of
cold breakfast food and turned up my nose. Instead I opted for a
handful of chips from the pantry and a glass of cold well
water.

Perched on the couch I reached in my pocket
and pulled out the folded paper. I hadn’t even looked at it since
he gave it to me. My stalkers name was Wesley Jensen, and it was
scrawled in almost unreadable chicken scratch.

I rolled my eyes as my heart pounded.

What did this boy have that was making me
feel this way?

I picked my phone up from the arm of the
couch. What did I have to lose? I mean really, the worst that could
happen is he didn’t message me back.

Me: Hey, Wesley. Figured if I had your
number you should have mine. Dawn

I was content with my message it didn’t show
urgency and it wasn’t overwhelming needy for conversation. As my
heart pounded I knew that it was exactly what I wanted. I wanted
for him to notice me and want to know me. I had never longed for
someone to pay attention to me before.

So I stared at my phone for what felt like
an eternity willing it to buzz. I was just about to give up when my
phone lit up and started its irritating vibration. I was overjoyed
as I opened the message.

I am never overjoyed.

Wesley:
Hey Dawn.

Seriously that was all he had to say? I
threw my head back into the couch cushion and groaned. What the
Hell was I supposed to say now?

I was frustrated. Rage pulsated through me I
knew what happened when this started. I tried to calm myself before
I set my phone on fire. Why did it seem everything always go up in
flames? I was just about to put my phone down and walk outside. If
anything would burn I would rather it be the tree in the front yard
instead of my phone. The last time I caught my phone on fire my
mother was not very happy with me. So yes, it is normal for me to
set inanimate objects aflame.

When it buzzed again I jumped at the couch
arms out and reached for it.

Wesley: Everything ok there?

Was he watching me? How would he know that I
wasn’t ok? I got up and looked out the window opening my heightened
senses to see if I was being watched. My hands were getting sweaty
again. Jesus just thinking of him was making me nervous.

Me: Yeah, just trying to relax after such an
exciting day.

Great, I sounded like a complete freak! My
phone buzzed again. Each time it made that noise I felt a skip in
my heart and I would giggle like a school girl. I’m sure I was a
sight to see too, regressing five years to the first time a boy
called.

Wesley: Can I call you?

What am I to say to that? I got all giddy
inside. I even let a little giggle escape my lips again. YES! I
wanted him to call me! It was like on cue my phone rang! I counted
to three and answered.

“Hey,” I tried to sound casual, however it
came out more of a squeak and I hung my head in shame thankful he
couldn’t see my face.

“So you had a great first day in small town
USA, huh?” he laughed. He had an amazing laugh, and here I was
swooning again.

“Yeah everyone was so accepting. I mean I
made so many new friends today.” I said flatly.

The thing was nobody even bothered to talk
to me today. The only person that had said anything at all was
Wesley.

“Yeah I could tell.” He muffled another
laugh.

“So what made you want to talk to the new
girl? Everyone else seemed more intent on staying as far away from
me as they possibly could today.” I asked stuffing a chip in my
mouth trying to crunch it softly so he couldn’t hear that I was
eating.

“Well.” He paused. “I’m not really sure
actually. When I saw how uncomfortable you were and how much like
the other's you weren't I thought what the Hell.”

I felt suddenly annoyed. The attention he
was paying was based on pity and nothing else.

“And here I thought you were smitten with my
bubbly personality," I dryly joked.

“Well that helped.” He laughed.

We talked for about an hour. I learned we
liked the same music, had the same taste in movies, and could get
lost easily in a good book. His favorite color was blue, and he had
a twelve year old sister named Melissa. When we hung up the phone I
felt like I was walking on cloud nine. This was an unnatural
emotion for me. I had never felt this before.

I wandered into the bathroom and looked in
the mirror not expecting to see any change. Same pale features and
same round face. However, my eyes had changed again. Instead of
chocolate brown they were dazzling blue. My eyes always amazed me
as if I wasn’t enough of a freak they had to turn around and make
me even freakier.

My mother had told me that my eyes were like
a persistent mood ring. That when I was angry or upset they would
be dark brown but if I was happy and optimistic they would be blue.
Nine times out of ten they were brown. The color change was always
gradual so they must have been changing while I was on my drive
home. How odd it is that a boy could make them transform, usually
it took an act of God to get them to be this blue.

My mother had said that they would show me
the way, that they will help me to figure out what was more
dominant. It would be either the light side or the dark side.
However, a different mood can switch the inner balance and one
second I may be angelic and the next demonic. In those cases it was
best to get out of the way.

So I had to watch my moods and make sure I
maintained an even balance. It was so hard though. The balance was
so easily tipped, one way things would go up in flames and the
other they would turn to ash instantly. I bet you never had flames
shoot from your fingers and burn a field of corn to the ground when
you were sixteen years old. That was why my mother insisted we
lived in the country. If my gifts were erratic nobody had to see
the outcome.

I don't remember exactly what it was that
triggered it. All I remember is how scared I was. Burnt corn and
singed grass are not the greatest smells. I laid that field flat in
seconds. I remember that I didn't understand why I was not singed.
My clothes were untouched my hair still pulled back. My mother had
been staring at me in shock the whole time until she was forced to
put the flames out. I do not recommend putting a Halfling child in
the middle of a field to see what they can do.

“I wasn’t expecting that.” My mother had
said to me.

It was the first time we had seen the fire.
All the other gifts I had received previous to this had been small
in comparison.

“Neither was I.” I had replied to her.

I could still feel my fingertips burning. To
this day when the fire burns I can always feel the tingle of the
flames on my fingertips.

****

It was about midnight when my mother came
through the door. She had two bags of fast food in her hands. It
smelled amazing, and I was famished. Taking the bags from her I
ripped one open and unwrapped a burger and had half of it devoured
before she could even put the straw in her drink.

We ate in silence. I could tell by the light
in her eyes she had finally gone to the church. She always found
sanctuary in faith. She figured that if she showed just how sorry
she was one day God would send down an angel to carry her home.

This is why she always struggled to find her
place in the church. She worked for God in her own way. She would
find a struggling congregation and help the pastor to bring them
back to salvation. In El Paso she had worked with Pastor Rylie. He
was a nice enough guy. He had a tremendous amount of faith, but he
was just too concerned about trying to save me. I don’t know what
he was trying to save me from. Whatever it was made sense in his
mind.

I would have accepted it if God had told her
to come home. What else could I do? She never told me who she was.
Never said why she had fallen in love with my father, or even how
they were caught. All I knew is that she was close to God, and it
hurt him tremendously to take her wings.

He had spared me though, for some reason,
the growing life inside of her. Sometimes I think if he had just
taken me away my mother would still be in Heaven. Maybe not in her
same standing but at least up there. At any rate if she was there
she wouldn’t be so sad on Earth.

I had never asked her why she had given me
to my father. She also never offered to tell me the story. I just
knew that at the time things were not going well and she found it
easier for me to be in the protection of my father. He had more
allies than she did. She knew that if anything happened he would
keep me safe.