Ethereal: An Illumine Series Novella (The Illumine Series) (3 page)

“You don’t have enough pennies to hear all my thoughts,” she replied, turning back to the bar counter with disinterest. Something nagged at the back of her mind. How odd was it that he had made no move to stop her hand when she had swung?

The boy laughed, deep and rich. Taking the seat alongside Rinae, he fiddled with the hem of his olive green t-shirt that hung off his lithe frame.

“I was beginning to think you didn’t know how to talk,” he said.

“Funny. I was beginning to think I’d never see your face again.”

“You saw my face?”

Stealing a sip of orange juice, she kept her face in the frame of an expressionless mask. “Yeah. That thing that starts from the bottom of your chin to your hairline, got a good glimpse of that a few days ago when you were giving me creepy eyes on the dance floor.”

“Well, here I am.” He offered a dramatic, over-done bow, animating his arms. “Drink it in, my dear.”

Rinae could feel the grin twitching on her lips, and she did her best not to let it show. “Should have taken a photo. Would have lasted longer, would have stayed silent.”

Moments passed like a pitter-patter of a slow beating heart. The boy alongside her seemed to stare off into the distance, stealing hidden glances at her when she thought he couldn’t see. Questions rolled around in her head, but the biggest one was easy enough. Just who in the heck was this kid?

She opened her mouth to speak. “So what-”

“You look different than the last time we met.” He boldly cut in, bringing his eyes to rest on hers. They were a sharp, stunning dark brown bordering on a bottomless black.

“Oh, so creeping across rooms constitutes as a meeting now?” Sarcasm bit heavy into her tongue. He was so relaxed, as if chatting with random strangers was a regular habit. “If that’s the case, we’re only two steps from best friends, three from lovers if you play your cards right.”

He tilted his head back and laughed. When he focused on Rinae again, the challenge was clear in his captivating gaze. “Well, then I guess I better play my cards right if I want to earn my place.”

Rinae couldn’t believe this. This kid was insane! Everyone who was regular in the clubs she bounced around knew her enough to stay away, that she wasn’t a talker. She didn’t come out to the clubs to get a kick out of making friends with other hardship kids, she just wanted some peace and quiet in a screaming pit of heavy bass.

Trying once more, Rinae asked the question she had tried to moments before. “You got a name?”

He grinned. “I do.”

“Want to tell me it?”

An tiny, lighthearted sigh passed his lips. “My name is Tegen, and you are the ever-elusive Rinae Decante.”

Red flag. Her eyes widened in surprise at the mention of her full name. Not that she couldn’t be found, but not many still around the city knew her past Rinae, or her nickname Slayer.

“So,” she started, choosing her words carefully. Depending on his answer, she knew the chat could only go one of two ways. “Is this the part where you tell me all about myself, or how you’ve been watching me since I was a child? That you know things about me no one else could possibly know?”

The boy, Tegen, let a smirk inch up his lips. He moved in closer to her, slow and deliberate, until his skin brushed hers. “I can tell you what you are.”

Rinae froze, breath catching in her chest. The words were simple and harmless enough in themselves, but if life had taught anything to Rinae, it was that nothing is as it seems and that words carry a weight all on their own.

Across the counter, Annslea looked over, beautiful lips turned in a frown. Rinae did her best to compose herself, wiggling the bottom of her glass to signal she was okay, at least for the moment. Who was this kid, some harebrained outsider who thought he could crack her shell? Did he expect her to melt under his gaze, swoon and hang on his every word? If he did, the poor boy had another thing coming.

Ungluing her tongue from the roof of her mouth, she kept her voice dangerously low. “Bullshit. You can’t tell me a damn thing I don’t already know.”

“Think so?” Tegen hadn’t moved an inch since he said the gunpowder laced sentence. Heat from his words tickled the side of her face and ear. “I can tell you about the fire you wield. How to control it. How to use it at will.”

Whatever little hope she had been subconsciously clinging to vanished. Tegen, if that really was his name, had kicked in the door to something she refused to acknowledge. Pushing her glass forward and tapping it on the table, Annslea was at their end of the bar in a heartbeat, eyes cold.

“Think it’s time for you to leave, buddy,” she said, pronouncing each word with a sharpness reserved for the drunks and scum-riddled perverts. “Rinae isn’t interested in your words any more.”

Tegen moved back, slowly raising his hands in a gesture of defenselessness. “I didn’t mean to offend her, my apologizes. I was only speaking of the truth she’s too close-minded to hear.”

That was it, the final straw. Anger coiled in her chest like an ugly spring, rotted and rusted. She had heard enough of his taunting words, it was time for him to go. Turning to face him, Rinae gripped both sides of his arms, forcing him to lock eyes with her. The familiar, icy rush of power rushed down her spine and into her chest as she spoke the words with clarity.

“I have no fire. You know nothing about me.”

Without a spare glance back at her friend, Rinae released Tegen and shoved him aside, sprinting through the clueless crowd and slamming into the elevator out. It jerked with a groan before moving upward, rattling like Rinae’s heart as she forced herself to stay in control.

Had she been alone in the elevator, she might have cried, screamed even. Instead, it bottled in her chest like everything else she was forced to keep to herself in this world. She thought back to Tegen’s dark eyes, and how easily she had impulsively used her other gift to manipulate him. It was the second time now she had used it, and it still felt as dirty as it had the first round.

The elevator barely had come to a stop when Rinae flung open the small metal door, stumbling out into the light-dazzled midnight. Several people wandering about stopped to stare, lifting their heads from jackets and scarves to get a better look at the black-clad teen as she struggled to keep herself in check. Her palms itched, a rush of hot and cold tingling under the skin. Emotions rolled over her, shocks of rage and bitterness leaving a bad taste in the back of her mouth.

That’s it, go home,
she told herself, and for once she agreed. Even the sound of Delphine’s growing delusions of angels would be better than this. She stumbled forward at first, pitching for the ground when hands stopped her and held her up.

“Thanks,” she offered, rushing forward before the mutter could become more than a passing glance.

“Wait, miss!”

Rinae continued forward, dashing deeper into the city. She crossed various buildings and shops, barely taking a moment to check she was on the right path home. A small entrance to one of the parks stood nearby, bathed in a milky dash of moonlight. A shortcut, or maybe a place she could shake off the power building in her chest.

Dipping between trees and brush, Rinae made sure to focus on one thing only; keeping one foot in front of the other. Branches, low and broken from a recent wind storm, lay scattered around the ground and path. Behind her, the distant sounds of laughter and car horns grew fainter with each step into the dark park.

Her knees gave out, and Rinae collapsed to the ground. Dirt and grass stained her favorite black pants as she sat there, staring off to no where. A scream tore itself from her throat, heat pulsing in her palms. Sparks, tiny and white, danced and kindled off her hands.

“Miss, are you alright?”

The voice came out of the blue, so sudden and calm it brought goosebumps to her skin. Rinae scrambled to her feet, turning around as she weakly attempted to brush off the stains on her lower pants.

“I’m fine, thank you,” she muttered. The person standing before her looked like a man. He lingered underneath a portion of tree, face masked by the darkness.

“Then maybe you can help me?” The man asked another question, and Rinae couldn’t help but recall the voice from somewhere recent. Her mind was running in circles, her body tired from the ache of life. All she wanted was to go home.

Shaking her head, Rinae started forward, making for the slightly covered path just beyond the man. Now that she had taken in her surroundings, she realized she had gone in the complete opposite direction of home. It would take at least thirty minutes to get back to the underground imitation theatre.

The man stepped forward, still shrouded by the darkness of the trees hanging overhead. “I won’t ask again.”

Fear squeezed her heart as she realized where she had heard the voice before. It was the person who had helped her outside the club what felt like only seconds ago. How had he gotten here with her? Was she being followed, did it have anything to do with that boy, Tegen?

Remembering the blades hiding in her sleeves, Rinae found her voice and made it clear. “I don’t talk to strangers.”

“That’s a shame,” the man said lightly. He shifted from one foot to the next. “Because we’re going to get a lot more personal than strangers in a moment.”

Run,
the voice screamed in her head, and Rinae didn’t need to be told twice. Sprinting for the exist, she had barely made it a foot when the man suddenly stood in front of her, blocking her path. He lunged at her, belting a guttural scream of lust for blood. Gleaming white fangs lurched from his mouth, as if they could move on their own and find flesh faster.

Rinae screamed and ducked, half-rolling forward, digging her elbows and forearms though gravel and dirt that scrapped her skin. One of the blades in her sleeve flew free and dropped off into the ground. Adrenaline kicked in, heightening her senses. She could make out details of the park that had first been hidden to her, outlines of park benches and industrial sized trash cans lining the thin walkway. She ran, bolting into the trees as fast as she could.

Use your power! Call your fire,
chimed a little voice in her head, taunting like the creature chasing after her. She could feel the dull ache under her skin, palms itching in a chemical need to spark and ignite the air into a hazy blaze. She couldn’t give into it, wouldn’t act on that need. Whoever was messing with her was human, probably scaring anyone, right?

Sprinting into a cluster of trees, Rinae pressed herself against a wide pine. Blood thrummed in her ears, pounding like the drums of war. Her heart flickered with an erratic pulse, and for a moment she imagined it flinging around in her chest, slapping into the sides of her ribs and organs like a crazed and caged animal. Heat bloomed on her chest, warming her skin until it nearly scalded her.

Hands dove into her black shirt, fingers splayed for the source of the warmth. Velvet, small and worn, brushed her fingertips. Rinae bit back the gasp that bubbled in her throat. Carefully, she extracted the heated pouch from under her shirt, keeping the cord around her neck.

Plum-colored velvet, the pouch was small, neatly fitting into her tiny palm. Rinae could still recall with ease the day she had been given the pouch, watching the social worker with suspicious eyes as she opened the hastily tied pouch and pulled out the small object inside. The first and only time she had cared to stare at the only thing left by her vacant father and abandoned mother.

At first glance ,the heart appeared nothing more than a glass heart, finely colored with different shades of deep amber. Yet the longer Rinae stared at it, the more she saw; the shift of the colors as if they could move, the smoldering glow radiating from the center. Heat billowed off the tiny object, tingling her skin hotter than ever before.

Grazing her thumb over the heart, Rinae stared at it in shock. “What the heck is going on?”

Nearby, the trees rustled above, and she quickly shoved the necklace back into its ancient pouch under her shirt. Her heart galloped in her chest, rabid, her breath catching in her throat. With a sudden shock, she realized she was being preyed upon, played with like a cat would bat a mouse just before eating it. Whoever was messing with her, it certainly wasn’t human.

Great,
she thought with building anger,
I played into this... thing’s hands. You’re better than this, stupid girl, fight your way out.

But the question was, how did she fight what she knew nothing about?

“I don’t mean to alarm you,” the voice whispering in her ear froze her where she stood. Ice water poured in her chest, chilling her to the point of shivers. “But your time has run out, pretty girl.”

Everything happened in a matter of seconds. Hands wrapped around her tiny waist, jerking her free from the ground. Her legs went into a craze, kicking and jerking violently until the icy hands on her waist flung her across the ground, smacking back first into a brush of tree branches.

Rinae’s eyes struggled to focus, colors shaking in and out of focus. Her breath came in short, stuttering bursts, panic wailing in her chest. She knew it; she was stupid for even thinking, just for a moment, that she could fight something so unusual, so inhuman.

In a sprinting blur, the creature with fangs appeared in front of her. For the first time since she told the thing off outside the club entrance, Rinae could make out the horror of what she was really dealing with. The fangs she had originally seen appeared larger, thicker and surrounded by the rest of the man’s equally sharp, jagged teeth. Black eyes, dark and spine-chilling, bore into hers as he tilted his head to the side, smirking. His skin was pale, milky and white. Every inch of him screamed of a predator, and suddenly Rinae recalled a video she had once seen of a snake devouring a mouse. It didn’t take a genius to figure out who was the mouse in this scenario.

“What the hell
are
you?” She dared ask, forcing her voice to stay strong against the wild pulse in her veins that sang otherwise.

Straightening out, the man kept a ruddy, arrogant smirk on his face. “That depends. What do you think I am?”