Touching Fire (Touch Saga) Read online

  “I hope you’re satisfied,” Ashton said, his tone barely suppressing his frustration. “Now if you please.”

  The creature moved back and I held my breath, hoping against all odds that he wouldn’t think to look beneath the coach.

  “Human traces were detected,” it said.

  “As I said, I must have the traces on me,” Ashton replied.

  Silence descended over the small group. Then, ever so slowly, the creature pulled away. Its metal structure clanked with every movement. I watched its feet get further away, but I didn’t relax.

  “I will report.”

  Something long and gold speared into the ground. There was a blinding flash of white light and the guard was gone. The roads were quiet except the soft whisper of rustling leaves and my heavy breathing.

  That was close.

  “Fallon?”

  Swallowing the anxiety curling up at the back of my throat, I reached for the hand extended to me. Long fingers curled around mine and I was drawn out. I let go immediately the moment I realized whose hand I was holding. Archer smirked. I ignored it, ignored him and busied my hands dusting my dress. The thing needed to be burned and the ashes would probably need an exorcist.

  “We need to hurry,” Ashton said as Isaiah got to his feet. “We’re nearly there.”

  He wasn’t kidding. The ride from there was another five minutes.

  Ashton drew back the curtains so we could watch as the carriage rolled up to a sprawling structure straight from some French renaissance era. It was a freaking castle with turrets, bell towers and so many floors and windows that it was nearly impossible to count. It sat propped against a backdrop of sheer luxury. An extensive spread of green lawns that went on forever before vast wilderness enclosed. Neatly trimmed hedges formed a lavish wall, separating the manicured lawns from the sheer force of the house. Flowers bloomed in a spray of colors that swayed like miniature-sized rainbows tucked beneath windowsills and along the winding paths. A massive stone fountain guarded the center of the cul-de-sac, gurgling and splashing water up into the night. There were no other carriages parked there, so I assumed they were kept elsewhere, maybe a flame retardant barn in the back. It was hard to tell just how big the acreage was when the house was all one could see.

  “How many people live here?” I asked, unable to contain the awe from my tone.

  “People? Not very many.” The horses stopped before the magnificent arch of stairs. “I don’t know how much Diana—”

  “Erin,” I corrected. Mom may have been Diana in his world, but in mine, she’d been Erin and things had changed enough without taking that way.

  Ashton inclined his head. “Erin has told you about me…”

  “She didn’t tell me anything,” I said honestly. “Up until I met Isaiah, I was told you were dead.”

  His shoulders dropped and he looked away. He cleared his throat. “Let’s get you inside.”

  “And Isaiah?” I insisted.

  Ashton nodded slowly and with a great deal of hesitance. “For now. We can’t risk a second venture such as that one right now. I will think of something else. In the meantime, try not to get seen.”

  “Like at all?” I said.

  “You I can explain, but Isaiah…” He shook his head. “Humans are forbidden. It would be best if you remained confined to your quarters, just until I can safely return you to your world.”

  Well hopefully it would take him just long enough for me to shower and change.

  “So he’s basically a prisoner?”

  “This isn’t a prison, Fallon.” I’d heard that before, from Garrison, then he’d tried to kill me for trying to leave. Ashton sighed, possibly having seen my suspicions. “Things will not end well if Isaiah is spotted. I will protect you both the best I can, but I need you to help me accomplish that.”

  Well, I had to trust his word, didn’t I? I was sitting in his driveway, and unless I magically produced flying powers or the ability to bound higher than the tallest building, I was stuck. Besides, I wouldn’t leave Isaiah behind.

  I nodded.

  Ashton offered me a small smile. He threw open his door and stepped out about the same time as Archer leapt off the bench. He landed flawlessly next to Ashton.

  Isaiah waited until we were alone before speaking. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  I peered at him. “No,” I said honestly. “I don’t want to be here.”

  His blue eyes bore into mine, touching me without ever laying a finger on me. “We can leave.”

  I sighed. “No, we can’t.” I met his gaze unflinching. “I’ll get you killed or get us both captured again. You’re safe here. I’ll talk to Ashton. If you can’t stay, then maybe he can find somewhere safe for us topside.” I shook my head. “Whatever that means.”

  The leather beneath him squeaked as he shifted forward. He rested his elbows on his knees and leaned in towards me. He dropped his voice. “No. You need to stay here.”

  I scoffed. “Uh, no, I don’t. We’re a team, Isaiah. It’s you and me. I don’t know this guy. Yeah, he’s my dad, but I don’t trust him.”

  He sighed and raised a hand. His fingers brushed my cheek as he pushed back a curl of blood-crusted hair. “Okay, look, you tell me when you want to go and we’re gone. I swear it. But you have to promise you’ll give Ashton a chance.”

  Fair enough. Truth be told, I was a little curious to see how this would all turn out. It could be great and we could be safe. I really wanted to believe that.

  “Okay.”

  His smile was beautiful. It was the first real smile I’d seen in forever. It lit up his eyes. I would have kissed him right then and there if a sharp rapping sound hadn’t penetrated our conversation. We glanced at the door and Archer’s face.

  “It’s more comfortable inside, Princess.”

  Ignoring his offered hand, I rose out of the seat, grabbed either side of the door and hopped out.

  “Stop calling me that.”

  His lips pulled back into a very toothy grin. “Shall I carry your bags … Princess?”

  It had just crossed my mind to hit him, when Isaiah unfolded his impressive frame from the carriage and stood next to me. He slammed the door behind him and stood glowering at the other boy. I was pleased to see that Isaiah had a few inches on Archer. True he wasn’t towering over him, but it was satisfying all the same.

  “We’re good.”

  Archer’s face was impossible to read with the stupid glasses on his face, but there was amusement in the curl of his lips. “As you wish.” He took a step around us. “I’d curtsy, but my back isn’t what it used to be. You understand.”

  “I want to hit him,” I mumbled, watching as Archer strode around the coach to the open box and Ashton.

  Chuckling, Isaiah moved to grab our bags.

  I followed, never taking my eyes off Archer, who was in deep conversation with Ashton. Maybe he felt the force of my hot glare, because he took that moment to glance over and give me one of those annoying, smug smirks of his. I gritted my teeth and turned my head away.

  “Ready?” Ashton said when Isaiah had both bags in hand.

  He slammed the lid on the box down and motioned us to follow him up a row of stone steps to the set of wide, mahogany doors.

  I held my breath as we passed over the threshold and stepped into a two story foyer carved from gleaming marble and scrolled-iron grillwork. The twisted metal ran up alongside the curved stairway leading up to another floor. Beneath it, cut into the stone, was an arched doorway that looked like it led down a corridor. In the center of the room was a round, stone table with the biggest vase I had ever seen in my life. The subtle scent of tulips perfumed the lavish space. Overhead, dangling from the vaulted ceiling, was a dazzling chandelier constructed of polished gold and dripping diamonds. It was a little creepy how much the place reminded me of Garrison’s palace. The only difference was the fact that I had arrived of my own free will … more or less.

  “I need to send word to my
father, unless you need me further?” Archer turned to Ashton, waiting.

  Ashton shook his head. “Thank you, Archer.”

  Archer inclined his head before turning it to me. Through the lenses of his glasses, I could see the transformation of my face from neutral to suspicious and annoyed. Archer snickered like I wasn’t silently wishing him a painful death.

  “We’ll meet again very soon, Princess.”

  “Don’t do me any favors,” I muttered in return.

  He rolled his tongue over his teeth before turning his attention to Isaiah. He said nothing as he snapped on his heels and strolled off down the hallway. His jacket flapped like batwings around him.

  Isaiah turned away from Archer’s retreating back and focused on Ashton. “What happened to the other house?”

  “There’s another house?” My curiosity was piqued.

  Ashton averted his gaze. “The home I had with your mother. I haven’t been back there in years.” He gave me a lopsided grin that didn’t reach his eyes. “Too many painful memories.”

  I wasn’t sure why, but I never considered the possibility that my parents ever lived together. I never pictured a home that I was brought to, small and bundled in a blanket, fresh from the hospital. I never thought there was a place with a room containing a tiny crib just for me. Yet, there clearly must have been one at some point.

  “Where is it?” I asked.

  His grave eyes met mine. “Protected. I will take you there, but not tonight.” The tension in his voice faded and he gave me a half smile. “Tonight, I need a shower and a meal. You must be famished yourself.”

  I was, but I shook my head. “I just want a shower.” I ignored the sharp glance Isaiah cast me.

  Ashton nodded like it made sense. “I will show you to your rooms. No one will bother you there. You will be safe.”

  “What about Garrison?” I asked.

  “No one can find you here. Especially not Terrell.” He glanced at me. “You’re safe, Fallon,” he vowed. “I will do everything in my power to keep it that way.”

  I wanted so desperately to believe him, to fall into that safe net he was weaving. But all I could think was how much that place reminded me of Garrison’s secret compound deep in the wilderness of British Columbia. It was isolated and both were surrounded by high walls and the impossibility of escape. Both claimed I wasn’t a prisoner yet I felt like nothing else.

  I shoved those thoughts away, knowing from experience that dwelling too much on thoughts of Garrison would only eat away at the little shred of sanity I had remaining and damn him if I let him take everything.

  No sooner had I managed to relax part of the tension stiffening my muscles when the steady click of heels pierced through the air, reverberating off the walls and ceilings. All heads turned as a beautiful Asian woman walked into the foyer, looking the picture of absolute perfection in her white blouse and flowing red skirt. A thick, leather belt clung to her ridiculously tiny waist with a dual set of buckles at the midsection. Brown boots were laced to her feet. She reminded me of an old fashioned schoolmarm. Even her black hair was twisted in an elaborate knot that twisted off at the temples to wind into a perfect knot at the base of her neck. Then she turned her large almond-shaped eyes from Ashton to me and Isaiah and the picture of normalcy she portrayed vanished.

  Her eyes were yellow like the color of mashed squash and slitted in the center in a very feline manner. They were circled with long, thick lashes that only seemed to intensify their inhumanness.

  She smiled pointy cat teeth like it was totally normal that we were drenched in blood and looked like we’d just stumbled our way out of some battlefield.

  “You’ve arrived.” She stepped forward, slender hand extended, each one tipped with sharp little nails. “I am Celia.”

  I hesitated to wipe as much of the blood on my hands off onto my dress before accepting. I was surprised by how soft and supple hers felt closing around mine.

  “Fallon.” I guessed she knew that, but I said it anyway.

  “Fallon.” Her smile widened, as did her pupils. “It’s such a pleasure to finally meet you. Your father has spoken of nothing else.” She released my hand and turned to Isaiah. “Hello again, Isaiah. You’ve kept away too long.”

  He had the sense to look sheepish. “Good to see you again, Celia.”

  There was no handshake this time. She stepped forward and embraced him, holding him tight before stepping back, hands on his shoulders to peer up into his face.

  She was tiny. Even with the four inch heels strapped to her dainty feet, she barely touched the center of Isaiah’s chest. With a pat to his broad shoulders, she moved to stand next to Ashton, who almost instinctively slipped an arm around her trim waist and tucked her into his side.

  I stiffened.

  The gesture was intimate, fluid, like he’d done it a million times and the way Celia was leaning into him … I wasn’t a rocket scientist, but even I knew what two plus two equaled.

  “Celia is my wife,” Ashton said almost carefully, and all I could think was, he’s married? When? When had he divorced my mom? I never saw her get any legal papers. Didn’t that sort of thing take years? How long after we were out of the picture did he go and shack up with the first set of legs that walked up to him?

  Beside him, Celia tensed, her tawny eyes huge. “Ashton, you did not tell—”

  “Daddy! Daddy!” A girl of about four barreled into the foyer, riot of black curls bouncing around a chubby, round face. She threw herself like a rocket straight at Ashton, latching on to his leg like a monkey in a frilly pink dress. “You’re home!”

  I watched with numbing horror as he scooped the little girl up and hugged her to him, beaming the way a proud father would.

  Daddy? He had a daughter, too? A four year old daughter, no less. Where was I four years ago? I was in some hole-in-the-wall motel, fighting off lice and cockroaches while my father was off creating himself a normal daughter, or was she a freak like me? Did he create her in some sterile lab, too? Taking out all the imperfections to fit the perfect new life he now had with his perfect wife and perfect house? Was she my replacement? Was that the reason he never sought me out? Because he had a better family?

  “Breathe!”

  I ignored the soothing whisper stroking the cavities of my mind. I didn’t want to breathe. I didn’t want to do anything. I wanted to leave. But Isaiah was behind me, blocking the door.

  “Ashton.” Celia took a tight hold of Ashton’s forearm, digging her claws in until little rosebuds of blood soaked through the fabric of his ruined shirt. He winced. “Please have Archer show Isaiah and Fallon to their rooms. I would like a word. Now.” She turned away from him and the fury melted from her porcelain features. She smiled kindly at me. “Please excuse us.”

  Ashton looked genuinely confused, but his wife was looking at him again and the look said very clearly that he was in a heap of trouble.

  He glanced at me and Isaiah. “I will come by your room a little later,” he said before turning and leading the way through the hallway, back in the direction Celia had come from.

  Don’t bother! I wanted to scream after him, but wisely tore at my bottom lip instead. Humiliation washed up into my face like scalding water, triggering hot tears to form behind my eyes. My hands shook as I balled them into fists.

  “Did you know?” I growled deep in my throat the minute I could speak without breaking down.

  “I didn’t,” Isaiah whispered. Of course he didn’t. Four years ago, he’d been following me around.

  “How could you not know?” I rounded on him. “You knew her.”

  He nodded slowly. “Yes, but it’s not what you think.”

  “How the hell would you know what I…” I trailed off, realizing just how stupid that sounded. Of course he knew what I was thinking. “It certainly didn’t take her long to weasel her way into the picture.”

  “Celia’s not like that.”

  His quick defense of the woman only increased
my hatred for her. She had no right to take over my family. It was my mom who should have been standing there next to Ashton, not her. She stole that.

  “I’m sure it wasn’t like that,” Isaiah murmured, touching my elbow.

  I jerked away from the brush of his fingers. Not commenting or looking at him; he should have been on my side, not hers.

  “I am on your side,” he said quietly.

  “Get out of my head!” I snarled, rounding in on him, limbs trembling. “Get out of my head, Isaiah!”

  His brows furrowed, his lips thinned. “Then you need to calm down!”

  “Bite me!” I snapped.

  His eyes narrowed. His teeth flashed between curled lips. “Isn’t that my line?”

  Heat exploded across my cheeks at his implication. “Go away! Just … go! I don’t need you, or him, or this stupid place. Leave me alone.”

  My duffle made a loud thump when he dropped it. “Fine!”

  I didn’t watch him storm off. I stared at the front door instead, wondering just how far I could get before those guard things found me. Not far. I was stuck there.

  And Ashton said it wasn’t a prison. HA!

  Chapter 6

  As soon as I was alone, I knew I’d been irrational. Once again, my temper had gotten the better of me and I was left standing there like some petulant child in the midst of having a tantrum. Of course Ashton had gotten married and had a family. I wasn’t happy about it. I would probably never be happy about it, but to think he’d sat around pining away for Mom was clearly stupid thinking on my part.

  Nevertheless, I couldn’t seem to shake the crackle of anger and betrayal coursing through me. I was just dying to slam my fists into something. I would have too if I hadn’t heard the soft clip of approaching footsteps.

  Archer found me just as Ashton said he would. He came sauntering through the open doorway, coat billowing around his long legs. He still wore his sunglasses.