Blaze (15 page)

The man’s eyes widen slightly. He moved his
own hand, but no fire appeared. He winced in pain, and Kira
realized he must be too weak to channel his power. Somehow she had
to heal him.

“Can you move? Can you come closer?” Kira
asked.

“No,” he replied, with a raspy voice that
came out barely louder than a whisper.

“Stay calm,” Kira said and let her power
grow brighter. Kira pushed her flames towards him, until the entire
cell seemed on fire. When the first tendril touched his skin, Kira
felt the blow in her own stomach. He was so weak, so close to
death. She couldn’t give him food or water, but as Kira felt along
his body with her fire, she realized the obvious problem. His blood
was seriously depleted. Concentrating, Kira focused on replenishing
his dried veins.

Her fingers tingled with heat as she
channeled more power, happy that so far underground, her connection
to the sun was still strong, still comforting. And after a few
minutes, when the wounds on his chest had sealed without a scar,
Kira had done everything she could, so she called her power back
into her body. The flames retreated, sinking into her skin, and
Kira looked at the stranger again.

He was still thin, still tired and hungry,
but color flushed his cheeks and he had regained enough strength to
come closer to her. He walked slowly and collapsed into a heap on
the floor a few inches from her outstretched hand.

“Thank you,” he said and Kira felt the
intensity of the words despite his meek and airy voice.

“I’m sorry I don’t have water or food,” Kira
told him.

“Who… what are you?” He asked and his eyes
found hers. They were slightly widened, as if straining to stay
open. He was looking at her almost as though Kira were a vision,
something he thought might disappeared if he blinked.

She crouched lower down so she could reach
further into his cell and cover his hand with her own. It was dirty
and still covered in dried blood, but it was solid. More
importantly, he knew Kira was solid and not going anywhere.

“I’m a friend, a conduit like you.”

“But you, you healed me. And your eyes… they
were glowing blue.”

Kira looked away.

“I’m,” Kira started but she wasn’t sure what
to say. “I’m not your normal conduit.”

“For a moment, I thought you were an angel,
an ancient warrior called back to save me. An original, from the
time of God and Satan and the heavenly battles.”

Kira blinked… what?

“Uh, okay,” she said and patted his hand.
Must be some sort of Punisher mumbo-jumbo. “What happened to
you?”

“A year ago,” he said, breaking to cough
against the scratch in his throat. “A year ago, I was captured.
During a raid, I was hit with something. I blacked out and woke up
in this cell, weakened with barely any blood in my body. I couldn’t
move. I couldn’t call my power. I’ve been stuck here ever
since.”

Kira nodded, absorbing the story. He had
been down in this cell for an entire year. A year without the sun,
without a human touch, without family, without hope.

“Look, I’m going to help everyone else and
then I need to talk to you again. We need to figure out a way to
get you all out of here.”

He nodded, still looked at her with an
awestruck expression. Kira shook her head and stood up to walk to
the next cell. A red headed woman was lying in this one, not moving
with closed eyes. A coarse cotton gown covered her features. Kira
reached out with her power and healed her as best she could.

Kira flexed her fingers. She had hardly used
her powers for two weeks, and it felt good to stretch her fire, to
finally let it out. Her skin was flushed with the warmth of her own
flames, but it was a comforting burn and Kira sighed happily.
Almost like an odd sense of déjà vu, Kira got this feeling like she
was exactly where she was supposed to be, doing exactly what she
was supposed to be doing.

She called her flames back, and the red
headed woman, who seemed to be the same age as the man in the cell
next door, blinked with confusion. Kira spoke to her softly,
telling her the same things she had told the man before moving on
to the next person.

This girl was blonde and looked slightly
older, making Kira’s heart catch. But on closer examination of her
profile, Kira saw that it was not her mother. Her nose was too
pointed, her cheekbones too pronounced and her shape was just
wrong. But instead of fighting another punch of sadness, Kira felt
oddly relieved. She was happier her mother was dead. Better that
than trapped in this hole, living a fate far worse than even
nightmares could produce.

Kira healed the Protector and moved into the
next cell, which was occupied by a brunette girl who screamed when
she woke encircled by flames. Even before that, Kira could feel she
was human. Her fire didn’t sink into this girl’s skin like it did
with a conduit. Kira had to force her power into the wounds to seal
them shut. The process wasn’t quite natural, but still easy enough
to pull off.

In fact, it was a lot more difficult to calm
her down than it was to heal her. She was bruised, broken-limbed,
but not injured in the same way as the conduits. Her blood was
almost all there. Kira realized this girl was probably a plaything
to Aldrich, not food. Her dress spoke of the same conclusion.
Unlike the dirty brown rags adorning the conduits, this girl was
dressed in fine orange silk that cinched around her small waist.
Her wrists were circled in gold cuffs—a cross between jewelry and
jailing that made Kira cringe. She was Aldrich’s Barbie. He had
dressed her up just to break her down, just like Tristan had told
Kira.

The conduits had to be kept injured and weak
so they couldn’t fight back. But this girl had been for fun. Kira
swallowed the vomit in her throat back down. She had one more
person to heal.

The last cell held another girl—clearly
Aldrich had a preference for the female sex. She was stretched out
on her side, facing the wall. Full, wavy black hair piled around
her head and her grimy dress was too big, covering everything but
her white and bony feet. She looked human, but her clothes were
just as worn as those of the conduits.

Kira reached out with her fire, slipping it
through the hole in the door of the cell in the same was as with
the other prisoners. When the flames enshrouded the girl’s body,
Kira tried to heal, but she was blocked. The fire wouldn’t sink
through her skin, wouldn’t bend between the breaks in her cells,
instead it tried to burn through it. Confused, Kira pushed
stronger.

Suddenly, the girl’s head spun around and
she hissed at Kira. Sharp teeth protruded from her lips and her
eyes were white.

Kira stumbled back, falling on the ground
with shock. Her flames followed, snapping back into her body like a
broken rubber band, stinging her skin slightly.

As soon as her fire vanished from the cell,
the girl slumped down lifeless again. Slowly, she sat up, leaning
her tired head against the back of her cell. She opened her eyes,
now gray-blue like the ocean during a storm—dirty somehow—and
examined Kira.

“You shouldn’t have healed them,” she said.
Her voice was weak, but still audible and much louder than those of
everyone else in these cells. Kira realized that she had been
acting partially, to silently observe Kira. Her skin was ashen and
pale, sickly compared to the pristine pearl of every other vampire
Kira had ever met. But she had strength, despite the fact that Kira
couldn’t heal her.

“Why not?” Kira asked. She crossed her legs,
trying to get comfortable. Who knew how long this vampire had been
here? She had to have some information that might help Kira.

“Aldrich will know someone has been here,”
the vampire said matter-of-factly.

Shoot, Kira thought. How had she not thought
of that? But, Kira realized, she would have healed them regardless.
She would not have been able to simply walk away from conduits and
humans walking such a fine line between life and death.

“When will he be back?” Kira asked. She
couldn’t fix the situation, but maybe she could avoid it.

The vampire shrugged. It was such a human
gesture that Kira paused and took a second look at the girl. Her
features seemed exotic, even without their natural coloring.
Something about the arch of her eyes and fullness of her lips
reminded Kira of a gypsy. But more so, something about her seemed
human, in the same way that something about Tristan had always
seemed human. Maybe it was the spark in her eyes, the sense that
she would fight for her survival. Regardless, Kira couldn’t fight
the feeling that this girl wasn’t her enemy. That maybe she could
even be an ally.

As if sensing the flip inside of Kira, the
girl narrowed her eyes. “He hasn’t been here for a few weeks, not
since he drained a few of those conduits over there for some party.
But his servants come in daily to pass around a few meager scraps
of food. Not like those duds would notice anything.” She paused,
shifting her eyes to scan the faces of the other prisoners. “No,
you might be okay. He usually waits for them to heal a little bit
more before he comes back. But he’ll notice their scars are gone
when he does.”

“I’m hoping he’ll be dead by then,” Kira
said.

It was a slight risk to let this vampire in
on her plan, but if she was trapped in one of Aldrich’s cages, Kira
doubted the girl would tattle. If she felt included, she might be
more willing to give up information. Like Kira expected, the
vampire raised her eyebrows.

“Do tell,” she said. Her head slid forward
slightly, an unconscious movement revealing her interest in Kira’s
words.

“Tell me what happened to you first,” Kira
said. “Why are you trapped down here? What did you do to him?”

The girl laughed. It was a shallow bitter
sound.

“The question isn’t what I did to him, but
what I didn’t do.” Kira waited for the girl to continue. After a
few seconds, the girl sighed and relaxed back against the wall.
“What do you know about vampires?”

“A good amount,” Kira said, keeping thoughts
of Tristan from leaving her lips.

“So you know about our powers? Well, some of
our powers?”

Kira nodded.

“I happen to have a very valuable one. I
pull people’s memories into my own head. I can’t just go in at
anytime and sift through someone’s mind. But if I’m touching them,
I can draw the images out like a movie and then play them in
someone else’s mind.”

“Show me,” Kira said.

“What’s in it for me?” She asked. “I don’t
exactly have tons of energy to just go wasting on you.” Her body
slackened to prove the point.

Hesitant, Kira held up her wrist.
“Blood.”

The girl responded by licking her lips and
sitting up a little taller. The eyes of the other conduits were on
Kira questioningly, accusing her. She had a feeling she was
breaking a cardinal rule—never willingly give a vampire blood. But
information was more important than following the rules.

Kira pushed her fingernail deep into her
wrist, biting her lip at the pain. After a few seconds, she felt
her skin give way and saw the bright pool gathering around her
finger. She reached her arm through the hole at the bottom of the
cell, letting her blood drop onto the floor.

The vampire started forward but Kira jerked
her hand back. “Wait,” she said. Giving up blood was one thing,
letting somebody bite her was totally different and not happening
anytime soon.

After a minute, Kira lit an internal flame,
bringing the fire to her blood long enough to close the wound. She
sat back down, waiting as the girl slid across the floor to
drink.

The ashen gray retreated from the vampire’s
features and a luminescent glow sprouted on her cheeks. The smoke
left her eyes, leaving a glossy royal blue hue behind. The curls in
her hair tightened into coils and a flush colored her lips.

She reached her hand back, beckoning Kira.
“I won’t bite,” she said with a smirk. Kira tentatively stretched
her fingers out until she was holding the girls hand.

Suddenly, her mind was taken over by
darkness. Rich swirling hues buzzed in front of her eyelids,
covering the glass cells, until they merged into an image: a
fire.

A large, sparking fire surrounded by people in
bright clothes and linen covered wagons. Drums were beating in her
ears and the crowd was swaying in unison to the sound. They started
clapping, softly at first until the noise became as loud as
thunder. People were calling out, laughing and yelping, until a
hush spread around the fire and a dancing figure jumped into the
middle of the circle. Her red pants were wide and billowing in the
slight breeze. Her shirt sparkled with gold medallions and a sliver
of her stomach was revealed underneath the loose top. She paused,
brought her hands up over her head, clanking two small symbols
together and surveying the crowd, waiting for their voices to rise
again and goad her into a dance. Her eyes met Kira’s, and though a
bright piercing emerald, Kira recognized them as belonging to the
vampire girl.

Kira looked away from the stare, and at the other
end of the fire was a man with jet black hair, who, for a split
second, had reminded her of Tristan.

“My, my, you are a bit of a rebel aren’t
you,” the female vampire said. Kira snapped her hand back and let
the vision disappear.

“What do you mean?”

“Who’s the guy?” She raised her eyebrows,
challenging Kira.

“No one.”

“You seemed pretty hot and heavy—”

“You were just supposed to show me your
power!”

The girl shrugged. “No harm done and now
that memory, that steamy little gem, is all in here,” she said and
tapped her skull. “Pretty handy, at least that’s what Aldrich
thinks.”

“How long have you been in here?” Kira
asked, sinking back in her seat to keep as far away from the cell
as possible. No way was that girl touching her again.