Flare of Villainy: The Imdalind Series, Book 10 Read online

  “They are bad to you, which is why I am not leaving.” She placed her hand flat on the bed between us, a clear invitation for contact, to comfort, but right then I didn’t need it.

  I would stubbornly take everything on all on my own if it meant she would see reason and leave.

  “You live in walls, Kaye,” I whispered, letting my focus drift toward the ceiling.

  The motion was not missed and she pulled her hand back, curling it back under her chin.

  “Not for long,” she said after a moment, the admission pulling my focus right to her. “Everything is in place. You know that job I got on the second floor? The one in receiving?”

  She swallowed, something was there that I wasn’t quite following. The drugs may make it hard to think, but it didn’t make it impossible. A second too late it dawned on me just what she was saying.

  “You found a way out?”

  She nodded. “Once you regain control of your magic, we are getting out of here. So, no pressure, but once we are out we are going to find your Joclyn, and I am sure she is going to make the SSU pay for what they have done.”

  Hearing her name brought all of those memories of her right into my mind. They slapped against my chest until my heart ached, my magic surging and pulsing until I felt it against my fingers. I lifted my hand, everything warming comfortably as a few sparks of yellow fell from me.

  Kaye was already grinning. “We will be out of here sooner than you think.”

  6

  Ilyan

  Hush now, child. Be still, be calm. The world will change at the new dawn. And when it does, you will see how you and I were meant to be.

  Joclyn’s calm voice sang through the grey halls of the hospital, the song trapped in my head as I looked toward it, expecting to see her standing there.

  Sometimes she was, sometimes she wasn’t. Today it was only the grey wall, the peeling paint, and splatters of blood. The image was a haunting vision against the song.

  Slowly, I lifted myself from the hard floor, the residue of grime sticking to my skin.

  “A když ano, uvidíte, jak jste vy a já měli být,” I sang along with her in Czech as the words began to repeat, the same calm tone in the melody seeping through me as I walked toward her voice. My body moved flawlessly as the door to the hall opened before me, the twisted delusions of my dream escorting me into my house beside the beach. My dreams had brought me here so many times before, but now it was practically unrecognizable.

  It was the same as the hospital.

  The wide granite tiles were now cracked and broken, the large ornate paintings peeling to reveal layers of dirt and smears of red. Chandeliers swayed from the ceiling, their dripping candles flickering as they hung from strings and broken chains.

  Still, she sang.

  Through the rubble, through the heartbreak of my broken mind, she sang.

  Her voice grew louder as I stepped through the carnage of my former mansion, tiptoeing around piles of furniture and partially burned window dressings.

  “Svět se změní,” I sang, my voice off key from hers as I stepped down the stairs.

  As I walked. All on my own.

  It was an amazing feeling, it was freedom, and even among the rubble I smiled; letting the comfort flow through me.

  Heavy creaking echoed through the massive space as I made my way down the steps. For months, the sound had kept me upstairs, sure that this destruction of mind and soul was going to collapse around me.

  It still could, I knew that, but it was worth the risk. If it meant true death, I would rather die here, surrounded by her voice, close to her touch, than in the prison of my reality.

  “Změní v novém,” I sang louder, letting my voice rattle the already unsettled structure as I yelled.

  The creaking of the swaying foundation grew louder as I reached the door, the entire house heaving as I swung the burned wooden slab open to the bright sunshine and the long black hair of a beautiful woman, her voice carrying away.

  “And when it does, you will see, how you and I were meant to be.” Her voice was sweet, it was calm, it moved in time with the waves, it traveled on the back of the wind.

  I let it fill me as I stepped away from the house and onto the wide porch. The calm, perfect beach stretched before me, the terrors of mind and reality already fading away.

  “I was worried you wouldn’t make it,” she whispered as she placed her hand in mine, her eyes soft.

  “I will always make it to you,” I said, lightly tapping the tip of my finger against her nose.

  She smiled at the action, even though my heart tightened at the promise I couldn’t keep.

  “Come.” She pulled me away from the house as she began to run down the stone steps that led to the beach, the sound of the waves growing louder as they called to us.

  Her laugh echoed with each step, the sound keeping time with the waves as she pulled me right into them, water splashing around our ankles.

  The water was so cold against my skin that I briefly wondered where the sensation was coming from. If they had soaked me in acid again or if this was just in the dream. If this was just some unremembered piece of my memory.

  “You are safe here,” Joclyn whispered as she stepped before me, the cold water rising to our knees as she took my hands. “Don’t go back there yet. Stay here with me.”

  Her silver eyes sparkled with love and light as she looked at me, as she looked into me. It was not the first time she had given me that look, and every time I saw the rare treasure it took my breath away. There was something there that I knew I had forgotten, some memory that I knew it was pulling from.

  Each time I grabbed for it, I came up empty. After so many failed attempts, I no longer made the effort. I just let the love in her eyes swallow me up. I let it shield me from whatever horrors were waiting.

  “Every day forever, Můj navždy,” I whispered, brushing away her hair from her face as it blew in the wind, letting my hand linger against her neck, my finger circling the soft skin just below her mark. I could feel the line of rough skin, feel the bit of raised flesh, the texture sending a pleasurable ripple up my spine.

  I knew better than to ask about it, to ask why she was alive and why the bite from the Vilỳ hadn’t killed her. The memory was still locked in my mind, along with all the other fragments that taunted me.

  Joclyn. Ovailia. Sain. Wynifred. Talon. Ryland.

  Everyone but me. This one piece of vital information was still blocked from me.

  Of course, I had titles. King. Krul. My lord. My love.

  I heard these on repeat, but they felt wrong. As though they no longer belonged to me. As though they never had.

  I had lost my name and was left only with formalities. I refused to accept that that was all I was.

  It may have been a serendipitous occurrence, however. With the exception of Joclyn and Ryland, every name had been spoken aloud as Nastya played with me. Precious names that dripped from me.

  Unluckily for her, she couldn’t put a face to a name.

  That, and based on what I had seen, I was pretty sure all of them were dead.

  The thought was both joy and chilling agony and I let it shiver through me once before dispelling it into the air as I pushed it away, leaving me only to get lost in the look in her eyes.

  As much as I longed for my memories, I had these moments.

  In many ways that was enough.

  I leaned down to kiss her, her breath brushing against my lips, only to have the calm of my paradise shattered by a scream.

  My scream.

  My body tensed at the noise, at the pain and tension that rippled through my bones and threatened to send me into the icy foam of the waves.

  “My love,” Joclyn gasped, grabbing a hold of my towering frame just before I fell.

  Her arms wrapped around me, somehow holding me above the waves as they flowed around us, the motion of the water moving in time with our breaths as I inhaled their salty aroma.

  I
willed the fear away, I willed the pain of my body away. The respite only held for a moment before the abrasive echo of the scream brought it right back.

  “I am fine,” I growled, the reaction not one I would normally give her. Luckily, she didn’t respond, she only held me closer, assisting me to stand as the sound came again. The scream that lived inside my head accompanied by a loud creak as the house on the hill behind us began to give way.

  “Stay with me,” she pleaded as she fell into me, wrapping her arms around my waist as she held herself close.

  I held her against me as I cemented the feel of her in my mind. I almost wasn’t fast enough.

  The screams followed me out of my dreams, the same as they did every time Nastya pulled me out to this hell. My body was screaming, my chest howling as I tried to suck in air. I didn’t know what she was doing to me, and I didn’t care. I just held onto the dream as much as I could, clinging to it as Nastya stepped toward me, a smile on her face as she twisted that damn scalpel.

  “Do you really think you will be able to find a way out of this?” she sneered as my head lulled around, as my heart ached and swelled. All I could do was moan, my screamed response muzzled by the mouthguard she had lodged in my mouth.

  Of course that would make her smile more.

  “You are mine and I can’t wait to play.” She stepped closer, but this time I didn’t feel so scared. I felt angry. Enraged even, as though it would take nothing for me to just reach forward and end her.

  I wanted to. I needed to.

  Except those feelings didn’t seem the same as they usually did. They felt stronger. Almost like they didn’t belong to me.

  I didn’t have any time to think about it before her twisted smile spread and the scalpel plunged into my arm, pain spreading through me as I was ripped apart and I forced myself out of this reality and into another one.

  One where I could only hope that those feelings had come from.

  One with her.

  7

  Ryland

  I couldn’t sleep.

  Although it wasn’t without trying. I had been awake for days and now I was stuck in a tossing and turning hell, forced to watch the hours tick down on the old alarm clock on my nightstand.

  The one Míra found early on in the fall of society and fixed for me so I wouldn't be late to my training sessions with her.

  I was sure the fact that she was the one who had given it to me was contributing to my lack of sleep.

  We were leaving in just a few hours, now.

  Then she would be home and I would keep her safe.

  “Fucking hell.” I grabbed my pillow, throwing it over my face as I smothered the scream and the long line of expletives that came after.

  This was getting ridiculous. I needed to stop pretending she didn’t matter to me. Stop pretending she was--

  I cut my thoughts off with a groan, practically throwing myself out of bed and into the bathroom. There was no way in hell I was getting any sleep, so I might as well get ready.

  A quick shower later and I was pulling on my dark jeans and throwing the last of the things I was going to need in my bag.

  It was only after I was dressed, packed, and out of my room that I realized the absolute ridiculousness of what I was doing. I now, officially, had nowhere to go and nothing to do for the next few hours. At least tossing in bed I had something.

  “Mother--” I snarled, and almost turned right back around to throw myself in my bed to stare at that damn alarm clock when I froze, hand still on the knob.

  There was something I needed to get. If we were going to rescue Míra, and she had been kidnapped and beaten and who knows what else, she was going to need clothes. I could get her clothes.

  I had walked the halls to Míra’s room so many times over the years that I didn’t even look up. I just stared at the floor, trying to ignore the way my heart grew louder and louder in my ears with each step.

  It didn’t get any better when I opened the door.

  Everything about her room was wrong.

  But not wrong in that she wasn’t there, or that it had been ransacked by some thief looking for something. Actually, I think I would have been less worried if her room had been ransacked. But no, it was clean. For Míra, that was more than a little unusual.

  Everything was in its place, the blanket folded on the chair, laundry put away, even her pillow had been fluffed. It looked like a museum, all except for the square of paper in the middle of the bed.

  My bag dropped to the ground with thud as I practically threw myself it, grabbing the paper that was emblazoned with the curly writing that she always used.

  RYLAND

  She had left a note. She was an overdramatic sixteen year old, of course she had left a note.

  I may have opened the letter a bit too eagerly, seeing as I ripped the damn thing in half. Still better than burning it, at least I could still read it.

  Ry-

  Surprise! I followed you to London! Of course, you already know that if you are reading this. Although if you are reading this that means things probably didn’t go as well as I was hoping and I didn’t make it back.

  Leave it to me to survive all the crap in the world and die while saving your ass, because I am one hundred percent sure that if I die, that’s how I am going down.

  I smiled, the grin pulling painfully at my face and the stupid tears that were pouring from my eyes. It shouldn’t be funny, that little bugger shouldn’t have been right.

  Now, don’t be mad at me for going, and really don’t be mad at me for dying. But I had to, I had to prove that I was capable of doing all those things you seem to think I am too young for. I am just as strong as you, Ryland.

  I want to be.

  Because I want to be with you. Because I love you.

  I was barely able to hold onto the paper, my hands were shaking so much. I tried to sit down but promptly missed the bed and slid down right to the floor. I didn’t even try to get back up, I was too focused on her note. My heart was beating too fast, anyway.

  There, I said it, my death bed confession. I’ve been in love with you for a while, and I know I shouldn’t because you are soooooo much older than me (newsflash, five years is not that long). But it doesn't matter because we are going to live forever, well, I guess you are now. But I had to show you that I’m not a child anymore.

  Maybe I had to prove it to me, too.

  So, there it is. I’m probably dead, and I really am sorry because I really wanted to kiss you.

  Love you.

  Míra.

  I just stared at the letter, and her swirly writing and the few marks from teardrops on the paper that might have come from either her or me. After a few minutes my heart rate began to slow, even though I didn’t feel like I was calming down.

  Everything felt like it was speeding up.

  “Any reason you are sitting on Míra’s bed?”

  I jumped up so fast I slammed my knee into her footboard, sending searing pain up and down my leg.

  “Mother--” Thank God my magic was already healing me or that would have made the rescue mission interesting. “What are you doing sneaking up on people, Thom?”

  “What are you doing sitting on Míra’s bed, Ryland?” Thom mocked my frustration as he stepped into the room, pulling himself out of the shadowed hall and into the dimly lit space.

  He looked just as exhausted as I felt. He had dark rings under his eyes, and was wearing pajamas that looked both too big and too small. And one sock.

  “Are you sleepwalking?” I chuckled, looking him up and down as he nodded.

  “What?” He froze, following my gaze to the one sock situation. “No. Wyn wanted some candy that Míra stores in here. She asks. I jump.”

  “And you were worried about why I was sitting on her floor? You’re stealing.” Thom just shrugged at me and went back to the dresser which he promptly began going through.

  “Have you ever told Wyn ‘no’?” That was really all he needed to ask
.

  “Once. I regretted it.”

  “Exactly.” He yawned and opened another drawer, clearly not interested in taking more than a cursory glance. “Besides, it looks like you are snooping too.”

  He eyed the two halves of the letter in my hand before yawning again and opening yet another drawer.

  “It was addressed to me.” I showed him the front, careful to keep all of the loopy writing on the inside hidden.

  “Oh, so a love letter then?”

  “No.” I answered way too fast and I knew it. My brother froze, snickering as he turned to face me, a bag of pilfered candy in his hands.

  “No? Could you sound any more guilty, Ryland.” Thom didn’t even give me a chance to react before he waved his hand and the two halves of the letter flew out from between my fingers and right into his.

  “Give it back, Thom. We don’t have to be children about this.” My heart had sped up again, but now it was for a whole different reason. I jumped up, intent to get them back.

  “Oh, I think we do. Besides, I missed pestering you as a child, this may be my only opportunity.” He grinned at me, popping a few pieces of the candy in his mouth before he began to read. His eyes grew big almost immediately. “Damn.”

  I had never felt this nervous about anything. Ever.

  “Now will you give it back?” I snapped, reaching for the letter again, but Thom just grabbed the candy bag and sat himself on the bed.

  “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m pretty sure that girl loves you.” Thom handed the letter to me and I snatched it back, sitting on the bed next to him, before he had a chance to change his mind.

  “You think?”

  “I mean, she--”

  “I know, Thom,” I cut him off, stealing a few pieces of candy. “She made that clear enough when she saved my ass. I probably didn’t need the letter. I would have known anyway.”

  Thom instantly began to snicker, but cut it off quickly when I let one spark of my magic flare from the tips of my fingers.