Ignited Page 16

  He frowns and looks away. “I’m sorry. I got carried away.”

  I sit up on my knees, placing my hands on his cheeks, forcing him to look at me.

  “Don’t you dare apologize for kissing me like that! Look around, MJ.” I sweep a hand behind me. “Everything is fine. We are fine. We kissed. And it was intense and beautiful and . . . perfect. Nothing took that moment away from us. It worked.”

  I shift closer to him, moving my hands behind his head to play with his hair. Muscles clench deep in my belly, and I bite my lip.

  His eyes darken.

  “I can kiss you,” I say, breathless. “And you can kiss me. Nothing can stop us from being together.”

  He leans into me—our foreheads touch. His fingertips brush along my cheekbones, and that’s all I feel. His essence doesn’t enter me. His touch moves into my hair. I close my eyes and just absorb the feel of his calloused fingers trailing down my neck and arms before stopping at my waist. Every spot he touches feels as if it were on fire. I want more of him.

  I tilt my neck to bring my lips to his, but I don’t find them.

  In the distance, I hear voices, but they’re muffled. They’re chanting or yelling, like at a sporting event, but I can’t make it out. All at once, the sensations from MJ’s touch leave me.

  I open my eyes.

  MJ’s gone.

  . . .

  Hiniker Bridge has been transformed into a small white room. To the left is a sitting area with plush brown couches and a privacy screen that’s maybe used for dressing. On the right, a mirror and vanity covers the length of the room.

  I’ve been in rooms like this before. In the summer, the whole family comes along when Dad’s band opens for somebody really famous. I’m backstage at an event of some sort, though I don’t understand how.

  The voices grow louder. They’re excited. There must be a huge crowd out there.

  I don’t care about them or this room. I want to go back to MJ. I was just about to kiss him.

  I go to wrap my arms around myself, but they won’t move. Nothing will move.

  Suddenly, without my control, my body walks to the mirror. My stomach tightens when I focus on the reflection. It’s me—but not. Blonde highlights streak through my hair. My lips are fuller, and I have pink lipstick. My nose is different too—thinner with a sharp point.

  I think I’m dreaming, only not about myself but instead about someone who looks a lot like me. Did MJ put me to sleep again? He must have, but why? The masked demon said there were a few more dreams to see of Elizabeth, so maybe this is one of hers.

  A knock sounds to my right. Maybe that’s Elizabeth?

  A voice says, “Come in.”

  If I hadn’t been watching the mirror, I wouldn’t have known that voice came from me. It’s higher and a bit snooty. But then again, it matches the navy dress and pearls I’m wearing.

  A woman with curly blonde hair enters, closing the door behind her. Disappointment fills me—it’s not Elizabeth. So who is she and where am I?

  The new woman is in a navy skirt and matching blazer with a white blouse. I have no idea who she is, but with the way her brown eyes are watching me, she knows me.

  She walks up to me with a sway I’ve only ever seen people do on TV. She hugs me lightly, then lets go and grabs my hands.

  “I know you don’t want to be here,” she says with a weak smile, “but this night is important to your father.”

  How do you know my dad? I try to ask, but my own voice won’t cooperate.

  Instead, my only response is a huff that could rival one of Amber’s.

  “Once the election is over,” the woman continues, “you can see Chris as often as you’d like. Until then, we all have to make sacrifices.”

  “I know—an Atwood win is a win for us all,” the snooty voice belonging to this body says with a sigh.

  The woman smiles, and the warmth of it pulls me in. “That’s right, sweetie. They need us on stage in five minutes. I’ll give you a moment to prepare. I love you, Lauren.” She leaves.

  Now I feel slightly better. I think I know what’s going on. I’m somehow dreaming about Lauren—a girl who looks similar to me. The Atwood name sounds familiar too, though I can’t remember how I know it. Now if I could just figure out how I got here and why . . .

  All of a sudden there are loud popping sounds behind me. Lauren spins around in time to see the vanity lights explode.

  Heated glass shards fly everywhere. Lauren leaps behind the privacy screen. Her heart races as she kneels on all fours. She turns to the vanity, but it has disappeared behind flames.

  Memories of Justin’s house resurface. I can’t do this. Not again. I won’t survive it.

  Lauren runs to the door, but it won’t open. She coughs, gasping for air as she pounds on the door. My own throat burns too. I have to get out of here.

  I try to use her body as the masked demon has used mine—hoping that between her and I, we’ll have the strength to open the door. The handle turns, but the door won’t budge. Not even a tiny bit. I can’t help her.

  It’s just a dream, I remind myself. This isn’t real. But I can’t make myself believe the words. I don’t know what this is, but it feels real. Realer than any time I’ve been inside Elizabeth and Lifa. Real or not, Lauren is going to die here. If I can’t get myself out, I’ll die too.

  Guilt fills me as I decide to leave this place on my own, just as I did this morning. I close my eyes and try to block out her panic. I remind myself I’m actually on the bridge with MJ. I can do this. I need to do this. Please . . . let this work.

  I open my eyes. I’m facing the damn door.

  It didn’t work. I don’t have any essence inside me.

  I’m trapped here.

  With the intense heat, beads of sweat slide down her skin, making her dress cling to her body.

  “Someone help!” she screams. I echo her, crying out for help, even though no one can hear me.

  Voices sound on the outside of the door. She and I cough out relieved cries.

  We’re saved.

  “Open the door, Lauren!” someone shouts.

  Again she grabs the handle—I try to help her. Again it doesn’t budge.

  “I can’t!” she screams back, then breaks into another fit of coughs.

  The door vibrates as if something hit it. The people on the other side are trying to break it down.

  A smell I’ve become far too familiar with coats the air. Sharp, searing agony stems from her feet and calves. I feel it in mine too.

  Flames climb up her skin.

  We’re burning.

  A blood-curdling scream escapes her lips. I’m not sure if it belongs to her, me, or both of us.

  I close my eyes, trying to fight against the panic consuming me. It’s no use. The pain is too great.

  I’m going to die here, and I don’t even know where here is.

  Maddy! MJ’s horrified voice echoes in my mind. Maddy, wake up!

  His fear shreds me. I need to get back to him.

  Please, Maddy, he begs.

  As flames ravage more of Lauren’s body, I allow his voice to coat me. It seeks out the last memory I have of us together.

  We were about to kiss on Hiniker Bridge. I was safe. I need to go back there.

  The room calms—the sounds distant, the pain fading. There is nothing but . . . bliss. Somehow I recognize it as death. It calls to me, welcoming me with open arms—embracing me as if I truly belong. It’s peaceful, but I can’t give in.

  I hold even harder to the memory of MJ until it becomes so real I can almost reach out and touch it.

  I do, and everything disappears.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  MJ

  “It’s been five minutes,” Alexander says over Maddy’s terrified screams. He and Tamitha grip harder to her legs as she fights something we can’t see. “Whatever this is,” he says, “she can’t take much more.”

  I kiss her tear-and-rain-soaked temple as I send more
of my essence into her mind, trying to pull her from wherever she is. “Maddy! Maddy, wake up!”

  Her body stills in my arms, and I feel a change inside her. She’s back.

  “That’s it, minn ást. Find your way home to me.”

  Her tears and screams continue, but they’re different this time. Before, her heart raced and she pounded and clawed at the air as if she were trying to escape from wherever she was. Now her body curls in on itself in pain.

  I push more of my essence into her, desperate to know if this is a vision, if she time traveled, or if a demon took her again. My essence scatters, pulled apart in so many directions by her needs, making it difficult for me to follow it.

  When it returns to me, my knees buckle from the sensations terrorizing my feet and calves. My flesh feels as if it were burning from my body.

  Tamitha and Alexander look from me to Maddy, then to each other.

  “Give her to me,” Alexander says, trying to take Maddy from my arms.

  I can’t respond. If I open my mouth, the scream I’m holding will escape. Instead I hold her closer, knowing this excruciating sense of fear, pain, and hopelessness is coming from her. If Alexander takes her, I won’t feel this anymore. But as badly as I want to be free of the pain, I can’t allow her to go through this alone.

  Through the pain, I suddenly remember the bruise on Maddy’s forehead during last night’s vision. That means there could be bruising or damage on her legs to match the pain I’m feeling. I can’t bring myself to check, though. It hurts too much to move.

  What is it? Tamitha asks using Cerebrallink.

  Legs, I utter. It’s all I can risk for fear I might scream even through Cerebrallink.

  “Check his legs,” Tamitha says to Alexander.

  “No!” I growl through my locked jaw. I fight with all I have to hold back my cries.

  They don’t understand. Every second they waste, Maddy’s suffering grows. Alexander looks at me, his face gripped with fear. He’s never seen one of us in pain before. When we fight the demons, we get injured. Sometimes even badly enough that we have to return to Heaven to recharge. But we never feel any pain or sensation.

  My body is burning. Every nerve ending is in an agonizing torment. But still, Maddy is the one truly suffering.

  I stare at Alexander, then drop my gaze to her legs, hoping he understands my message.

  He kneels down beside her and rolls back the hem of her jeans. He and Tamitha gasp while a muffled moan sounds in my throat. Her legs are charred, blackened to a point where I fear they might crumble to ash with the slightest touch.

  Even though it hurts, I push all my essence into her legs, repairing the damage. After a moment of hesitation, Tamitha and Alexander gently place their hands on her legs and feet. As they feel their first taste of pain in this life, they fight their own desires to scream.

  As we struggle through our shared pain, our combined essences work to repair the layers of damage on her lower body. Their essences still won’t move beyond where they are touching her. I don’t understand why. I also don’t understand why it’s taking three of us to heal her. I’ve healed countless mortals by myself. I should be able to repair this damage immediately and end her suffering, but I can’t—just as I couldn’t two nights ago.

  She clings harder to me, digging her nails into my shoulder and bicep. Blood runs down my arm, but I ignore it and keep my focus on her.

  Slowly we soothe the burning sensation. Maddy stops screaming. Our own pain lessens.

  Maddy stares up at me—her eyes wide with fear and confusion. Then she turns, buries her head in my lap, and falls to pieces. Heavy rain bursts from the clouds, instantly soaking us all. Violent sobs shake her body.

  As more of her cells and tissues regenerate, I split my essence and send half of it through the rest of her body to calm her down. There’s still so much fear inside her. I need to know what she went through, but I know she’s not ready.

  I break up every pocket of fear I can find. Her heart slows. Her sobs lessen. The rain turns into a light drizzle.

  She looks up, and those emerald eyes hit me again. Everything she’s been through in the last week flashes through my mind. I stare down at her in awe.

  I push her wet hair from her face. “You’re so brave, Maddy. I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you from this.”

  Her lips tremble.

  Tears well up inside me. I lean down and kiss her forehead so she won’t see one fall.

  MJ, Tamitha says in my mind.

  I sit up and turn my attention to her. She’s still seated on one side of Maddy’s legs while Alexander is seated on the other side.

  I think the worst is over, she says.

  She glances at Maddy’s legs, and my eyes follow. Her legs are a pink hue, as if sunburned. That’s the only visual evidence of what she went through.

  You can let go, I tell Tamitha, knowing that’s what she’s indirectly asking.

  Her body slumps as she lets out a relieved sigh. Cautiously she removes her hands and essence from Maddy.

  I stare down at Maddy, watching for any sign of the pain returning. She just stares up at me. I don’t think she’s even aware that Tamitha and Alexander are here.

  Alexander shifts. I look at him and nod, giving him the okay.

  Are you sure? he asks.

  No, I’m not sure, but I don’t want him or anyone to know. Instead I sit there watching Maddy yet again, praying I’m not making a mistake. It took all three of us to heal her and soothe the pain. She didn’t react when Tamitha pulled away, but will my essence be enough on its own if Alexander pulls away too?

  His essence withdraws. Maddy doesn’t react.

  My fingers run through her damp hair as I hold her, protecting her as best I can. I need answers.

  “Please tell me what happened to you. Tell me so I can fix it.”

  She coughs, and the raspy sound fills me with anger—anger at whoever or whatever did this to her.

  Tamitha hands her a bottle of water. Maddy’s eyes close as she takes a few sips. When her eyes reopen, they’re distant and unfocused.

  “I—I don’t know what happened,” she says weakly.

  I send more of my essence to her throat to ease the ache. She takes another breath and doesn’t wince this time.

  “I was with you and then I wasn’t,” she says, looking at me. Her voice sounds stronger this time, but it’s still not her angelic tone. “I was backstage at what I first thought was a show of my dad’s, but when I looked in the mirror, my reflection was different. It was me, but it wasn’t. I don’t know how else to explain it. A lady came in, and she called me Lauren.”

  I stiffen.

  It’s a coincidence. That’s all.

  Her lip trembles as she clamps her eyes shut for a moment. “The woman said something about an election and an Atwood win, then she left . . . and the room started on f-fire.” She trembles even more. “Lauren couldn’t get out. I felt the fire consuming me. I couldn’t wake up. I felt her slipping, giving in to death. And it was so peaceful. Then I heard you.” She stops and stares so deeply into my eyes, it’s as if she were seeing into my heart. “I didn’t want to leave you.”

  I nearly lost her—again. I hold her closer, kissing her hair and allowing myself a moment to let her words sink in.

  I push back my feelings in order to focus on discovering how and why she was taken. Then I catch Alexander’s gaze.

  Was this a vision? he asks.

  I’m not sure.

  I’ve said it before: there’s no such thing as coincidence.

  I let out a ragged breath. Go find Protector Gary and see if his Charge is safe. Take Tamitha with you.

  I can stay, Tamitha offers.

  After what we went through, I know they need time to process it. We all do.

  No, stay together, I tell them both. I don’t know what you’ll find when you get there.

  They nod. A moment later, they’re gone.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine
r />   Maddy

  Even though the pain of the burns is gone, I don’t want to let go of MJ. I pull his arms tighter around me. He shifts, making the boards of Hiniker Bridge groan.

  I glance around, waiting for Alexander and Tamitha to reappear at the noise, but they don’t. They must have left.

  I turn back into MJ, still raw with confusion. He makes it better. Focusing on his essence continuously looping around my insides reminds me I’m with him. I’m safe.

  “I wanted to wait . . .” he begins.

  I look up into his hazel eyes. They’re hooded, concealing most of their brilliance, as he frowns.

  “I wanted to let things settle down. I didn’t want to push you. But I need to know about your visions. I need to know how and why this happens,” he says, pointing to my now-healed legs. “And I need to know how to keep you from getting hurt like this.”

  I take a deep breath, preparing myself. Incredibly, I’m not nervous as I was when I told Kelli about the dreams. No matter what, I know MJ will accept me and still love me. I won’t tell him all the secrets—not when he’s still keeping things from me. But I trust him with this.

  “For as long as I can remember, I’ve dreamed of a fairy-tale romance between two people known as the Dream Girl and the Dark Prince . . .”

  I tell him about the dreams. I tell him how they work and that I’m not psychic. And I tell him how the dreams have changed now that the connection to Elizabeth—though I don’t say her name—is broken. I grip his hand harder when I tell him I met the Dream Girl and that she helped me at Justin’s house.

  “You mean you dreamed of her, right?” He gazes deeper into me as he wills me to say yes, but I can’t.

  “No. It was real. She somehow brought me to her while my body was with Justin.”

  His eyes clamp shut, and the veins in his neck extend as he tightens his jaw. After a few controlled breaths, he opens his eyes. There is a coldness to them now—as if he’s pulled away from me.

  I wish he’d stop reacting whenever I mention what took place at Justin’s house. I know he blames himself, but he shouldn’t.