Touching Fire (Touch Saga) (20 page)

I touched the hem and thought of my talk with Isaiah about how my new destiny made sense
, and maybe in some twisted way, it did. After staying up for most of the night thinking about it, I was beginning to understand a little more of just what I was.

It was true what I’d said, about never noticing guys looking at me. I never considered myself grotesquely hideous, but I was, in my opinion, fairly average.
Between
Angelina Jolie
and myself, I would lose. Badly. But I never noticed the attention because I never cared. I was so set on just making it through the x-number of weeks/months that starting a relationship with anyone just seemed stupid. I made it my mission to avoid people, to avoid that connection. What was the point when I would be leaving? Yet a part of me had always felt like I wasn’t alone, which had nothing to do with having my mom. It was something else. Something deep and profound. Something that always made me feel safe. At the time I hadn’t known it, but it had always been Isaiah. But it was beginning, slowly, to make sense.

My connection to Isaiah. The draw between us. The insatiable hunger, the passion and near obsession. Garrison had said there were parts of me he couldn’t remove, parts of me that were unique and he had used those to manipulate my existence.
I wasn’t an expert and I would need to talk to Ashton, but what were all those feelings if not lust? Had Garrison somehow tapped into my heritage and woven it with my feelings for Isaiah? That still didn’t explain why I needed blood. The people I’d met at breakfast the day before, they were eating regular food. There was no sacrificial virgin splayed across the table, arteries cut and drained. Was that part of my DNA or was that something Garrison had introduced? No. He had said I had always needed blood. It was one of the things he couldn’t remove.

I definitely needed to talk with my father.

Moving away from the breathtaking scenery, I hurried to the bathroom for a shower. I was detangling my wet hair when I felt him approaching. My heart skipped even as I set down the brush and hurried to the door. I wasn’t sure what I would find. I knew it was Isaiah, but would he still be harboring those ridiculous notions of me finding someone else? Had he finally come to his senses? Would he argue with me? Dread tainted my earlier excitement and my footsteps slowed. I was practically grimacing by the time I pried open the door.

He stood with his back against the wall, his hands lost deep in the folds of his pockets. He was studying his shoes, his hair falling in thick fringes over his eyes. Those blue eyes rose, crystalline pools of electricity
, and met mine, and my world stopped. My breath stopped. My heart would have stopped if it wasn’t drumming a tempo of pure elation at the sight of him. It ached, so desperate for the need to be closer. God, it was never close enough. I could crawl into him, burrow into his soul and it wouldn’t be enough.

I
moved closer, as unsteady as a new born calf. He caught my hand, reeled me to him without ever pushing away from the wall. I was pulled into the space between his feet, held there as he bent my arm and twisted it around my own waist. I was pressed into him, his thighs hard against mine. I felt his heartbeat through the fingertips he traced over the curve of my cheek.

“I hate that you’re scared of me,” he murmured.

I shook my head. “I’m not scared of you.”

“No, but you’re scared of
what I might say.”

I couldn’t deny it. “Yes.”

Sadness softened his eyes. “I’m sorry. I was trying to do the right thing.”

My face meshed into the soft material of his t-shirt, nuzzling like a baby kitten seeking heat and safety. My hands shook as I closed them against his spine, crushing him close.

“Then don’t leave me.” I cringed at the desperate plea wavering in my voice. I hated myself for being so needy, for clinging to him with such pathetic anxiety. But the pain, the unbearable agony throbbed like a physical wound inside my chest. I felt half-mad at the very thought of him turning his back on me and walking away. I wanted to die and it hadn’t even happened.

“I will
never
leave you.” His low vow whispered directly into my ear, each word laced with fervor and said carefully so I missed nothing. “Ever.”

I squeezed my eyes closed, willing away the tears clinging to my lashes. I pressed my face harder into the center of his chest, wishing with all my might that I could just melt right inside him, become a part of him forever.

“What’s wrong?” A kiss ruffled the hair at the top of my head.

I shook my head, eyes still closed.
“I just … I already have so much I need to worry about. I can’t worry about losing you on top of that. You’re the only constant thing in my life. The one thing I have never had to doubt.”

His arms tightened around me. “And then I went and made you doubt me.” He exhaled into my temple. “I’m sorry.
That wasn’t what I wanted. I just want you to be happy and I know how much you want normal.”

My snort was muffled by his shirt. “
Well, I no longer have any idea what normal is so…”

His fingers combed through my damp tresses as he chuckled. “
Well, I did think about what you said last night.”

“Which part?”

“The part about being able to stand back and watch as someone else takes my place in your arms.”

I raised my head ever so slightly to peer into his face. “
And?”

There was no amusement on his face, no glimmer of laughter
in his eyes. It was pure intensity in its most concentrated form.

“You would probably have to kill me first.”

I smiled. “Well, aren’t you glad then that I only want you?”

He said nothing, but his fingers drifted up and smoothed back a strand of hair off my cheek. He coaxed it behind my ear.
His thumb glided along the slant of my jaw to stop at my chin. My lips parted even before he lightly touched the bottom curve. Thick lashes hooded his eyes as he studied my mouth and I ached inside.
Don’t toy with me,
I wanted to beg. But forming words was a luxury I no longer possessed.

“I want to show you something,” he said at long last.

“Okay,” I breathed, pretty certain I would have agreed to just about anything at that point.

“Tonight.”

I gave the briefest of nods. “Okay.”

He smiled darkly. “
Come naked.”

I blinked. “What?”

He laughed. “Well, I thought I would take my chances since you were agreeing so willingly to everything else.”

I swatted playfully at him. “
So what are you going to show me?”

He straightened, pushing off the wall to stand at his full height. I was forced to tilt my head back to peer
up at him.

“I can’t tell you that.”

“But—”

He put up a halting finger. “Patience.”

I glowered at him. “I’m a sin, not a virtue.” Realizing what I said, I laughed. “Ha! I just made a funny.”

We started walking towards the stairway.

“Mm, can’t argue that.” He slanted me with a sidelong glance. “You are a sin.”

Scrunching my face, I shouldered him. “You’re such a dork.”

He laughed as I shook my head. I raised a hand and swiped back damp tendrils off my face and wondered briefly if I should grab a hair elastic before heading down. My hair had a tendency to do what it pleased, when it pleased. I was waiting for the day when I would wake up with it strangling me in my sleep. It was at that moment, while I was fighting to take it behind my ears when my fingers brushed my cheek and I frowned.

Isaiah had touched my cheek.
I had felt it. Yet, despite the fluttering sensation in my chest, it hadn’t frozen me to him.

Doubt making me question
what I knew I’d felt, I reached for his hand. I let my fingers drift down his arm until they slipped seamlessly through his and interlocked. He cast me a glance but said nothing. His fingers closed around mine, locking our palms together.

The spark was there, the soft tickle of fire that flowed from him to me. I felt the kick in my gut, but I knew I could easily let him go if I wanted to. I wasn’t a prisoner to his touch.

“I think it wore off,” I said.

“What’s that?”

I jostled our joined hands. “We can touch.”

He nodded, not seeming surprised. “It started wearing off last night when you closed the door in my face.”

“I didn’t close the door in your face!” I protested. But he was right. I had walked away. I had put distance between us without feeling as though my skin were being flayed. “What do you think happened?”

His beautiful eyes fixed on my face. “How do you feel?”

I shrugged. “Fine. Normal.”

“Maybe it was because you had just finished drinking.”

“But I had drunk from you before. It was never like that.”

He shook his head. “I don’t know.” He turned forward. “
We won’t know until it happens again.”

“It can’t happen again,” I said at once. “Isaiah, you can’t let it. You know how dangerous it is.”

“No, I don’t.” He stopped walking and faced me. “And neither do you,” he said when I opened my mouth. “All I know is that you need my blood and so long as I’m alive, I’m not going to stop you.”

“But Garrison said—”

“What? That we’re weapons? People can’t be weapons. There isn’t a bomb inside you waiting to go off because you drank from me. It’s physically and scientifically impossible. The only thing my blood does is keep you alive.”

I rocked my head furiously from side to side. “You can’t know that!”

“Yes, I do and do you know how?” He moved a step closer. “Because no one knows you better than I do. I haven’t just been watching you our whole lives. I’ve felt you from miles away. I’ve heard your voice without you ever opening your mouth. I know what’s inside you and it’s not evil.”

Oh how I wanted to believe him. God I wanted so badly to accept the beautiful lie he was telling. How simple it would have been to live in such ignorance. But he was wrong.

“Then why do I feel evil?” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “That …
thing
, living inside me, it’s dark and it’s evil and I don’t think I can control it forever.”

His blue eyes searched my face.
He took my arms lightly. “What are you talking about?”

I raised my gaze to him. “Death.” I swallowed hard. “
It wants death and it wants you.”

He jerked back, but didn’t release me. “What?”

I dampened my dry lips. “It wants me to drink and every time I do, it grows stronger.” A tear slipped down my cheek. “I’m scared, Isaiah. I’m so scared this thing will win and I won’t be able to stop it. I’m scared…” I looked down at my hands with their slim fingers and clean nails and saw them covered in blood. I squeezed my eyes closed. “I’m scared my dreams will come true.”

He knew about my dreams. Every time I awoke from one, screaming and hysterical, he’d been there, drawing me out, holding me close until I could breathe again.

“Hey.” He slipped a finger beneath my chin and tipped my face to his. “That is not going to happen. I won’t let it.”

“
That’s just it. It’s happening and you can’t stop it.”

He took an unsteady step back, his hands falling away. Blue eyes watched me, dark with
uncertainty and fear. His head swung from side to side in denial, but I knew he couldn’t deny it.

“No,” he said at last, determination stiffening his spine. “I’m going to fix this. I’m not letting anything happen to you. I don’t care if I have to kidnap Garrison and force him to
undo what he’s done. I’m not losing you.”

“Isn’t that sweet.” Archer, in all his
confident glory strolled in our direction. His boots made no sound, neither did his clothes. He was like a ghost, pale and quiet. He stopped next to me. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

“What do you want?” I demanded.

“Oh where do I begin?” He sighed. “I wouldn’t say no to a red wagon.”

I squinted at him, bemused. “What?”

He shrugged. “I’ve never had one. They look fun. Oh!” He smirked. “You meant at this moment. Well, I was sent to fetch you, Princess. Your father requests an audience. He would have sent Delphi, but … well, that didn’t end so well last time. I guess he’s not as worried about my welfare. I’m a bit hurt.”

I ignored his rambling. “We were just going down—”

He shook his head. “Just you. Don’t worry,” he said when I frowned. “I’ll keep Prince Charming entertained in your absence. We’ll do that male bonding thing I’ve heard so much about.”

I glanced at Isaiah.

“I’ll be fine,” he assured me.

“See? He’ll be fine,” Archer agreed. “He’s a big boy now. I promise not to bite.”

There were no nice words to call him, so I said nothing as I pushed past him towards the stairs.

“They’re not in the dining room,” he shouted after me.