Wilde's Fire (Darkness Falls #1) (6 page)

Shrieks of rage come from behind me; I hear the creatures begin to run.

Brad’s eyes lock with mine.

I grab onto him. Tears rush down my face. I know he’s going to shove me through the mouth of the cave, the same way I saved my sister.

“I’m not leaving you behind!”

“I’ll be right behind you. You have to go now!”

Brad pushes me toward the hole and jumps after me, but we must be disoriented, because I don’t find myself submerged in water. Instead, I land on my butt.

He plants himself on the ground in front of me, takes my hand, and helps me up. Grabbing me by the waist, Brad pulls me into him with all his strength. With one firm hand holding me at the small of my back against his body, and the other racing up to the back of my head, he leans his face down to mine and kisses me.

For a second, everything disappears. It’s just Brad and me, as one. His lips are warm and soft, but his kiss is filled with so much built-up emotion it takes my breath away. I don’t care that death is approaching at a rapid pace; I don’t care that the first and last kiss of my life means something different to Brad than it does me—I’m going to enjoy this. Putting my arms around his neck, I return his kiss with as much intensity as he gives it.

Brad steps back with a smile, allowing me to look into his watering eyes long enough to see the pain in them. I don’t think anyone understood the depth of his feelings for me.

I know I didn’t.

We could’ve had a good relationship—we had the friendship part of it down—but even now, faced with death, I don’t know if that’s what I want from him.

“I’m so sorry I’ve never kissed you before now. I’ve dreamed of doing that since I met you in second grade. I’ve been trying to find a way to say this since we came out here, Kate. I love you. I’ve always loved you and will continue to until I die.” Brad pushes me down, then spins around before the creatures reach us.

I land on my back, with the wind knocked out of me.

He runs away, trying to distract our attackers—and it’s working.

They follow him. The first monster catches his arm and slices through his back with dagger-like claws.

“No!” I wheeze, gripping at my chest.

Struggling to fill my lungs with air and get to my feet, I fall onto my hands and knees. I look up to see if he’s still fighting when, from all directions, burning arrows blaze through the dark sky. They hit the creatures by the hundreds, lighting them into brilliant, blue flames. But not before the disgusting things take Brad’s life.

He lies motionless on the ground.

The air fills with the smells of burning flesh and hair, the aroma so foul, it causes me to gag. I put my hand over my nose and mouth in an attempt to block out the awful stench.

Fearing an arrow might find me as well, I crawl to him.

“Brad?” I choke out when I reach his feet.

He doesn’t respond.

Tears fill my eyes. Throwing myself over his bleeding body, I allow his death to overwhelm me. I never told Brad I love him, too. I’m sure it’s not the same way he loves me, but I do love him. Now he’s dead, and will never know.

I
will never know if I could’ve loved him the same way.

Someone—or something—touches my shoulder.

I scream.

A hand clamps over my mouth.

“Do not fear. We are here to help,” a man says, picking me up under my arms.

Kicking and biting, I fight against him. No one can help me. I’ve killed my best friend and lost my sister. I shouldn’t be alive, shouldn’t be here—wherever
here
is.

“I will not hurt you, but there are plenty of things around that will. Please stop fighting.”

Giving in, I allow him to help me onto a horse.

He drapes a blanket over my skin.

Unconcerned with where I’m being taken, I slump over the horse’s back. The only thing I know is my heart is irreparably broken from the loss of my closest friend.

Riding in the dark for what feels like hours, I drift in and out of consciousness. My tears have dried. I have no tears left to cry.

We stop, and I’m eased from the horse by someone with gentle, warm hands. The man—whose wrinkled face I can now see—carries me like an infant.

I fall limp in his arms.

His face is hardened with concern, but he forces a smile when he catches me looking up at him. “You are going to be okay.”

The man’s words send me into another hysterical fit of crying. Can anything be okay? Not after what just happened; nothing can. Not for me. I might not ever be okay again.

He lays me in a bed, then pulls a blanket up to my chin.

Trembling under the weight of the woolen covers, I cannot hold back the misery any longer. Howls erupt from deep in my chest.

The man hangs his head.

Something jabs into my arm.

My muscles are unable to move.

My eyelids are heavy.

come into consciousness for the first time in what feels like months, or even years. Inside, the searing pain and guilt of losing Brad rips a hole through my chest. I have no idea what I’m going to see, where I am, or why I’m still alive. I open my eyes, then blink a few times before they clear. The little room is dark; a few candles burn on an old table next to the bed. Sounds of people shuffling about and dishes clanging in a sink come from a room somewhere else, but no one is here with me.

Surveying my surroundings—and judging by the clothes strewn about the floor—I assume I’m in a man’s bedroom. Fear controls my muscles, forcing me to slink out of the rustic poster bed. Someone has slipped a clean, white nightgown over my underclothes. Drawn in below my breasts and flowing to the floor, the gown reminds me of clothing from another time. If I wasn’t so afraid, I might be excited by how flattering the nightie is to my slight figure.

I rummage through the drawers, the pants on the floor, and the hole in the dirt wall someone uses as a closet, hoping to find a weapon. I spot a small knife leaning against the wall behind a wooden chair made out of intricate tree limbs twisted together. The metal blade is so shiny it almost hums when what little light the candles offer bounces off it. Putting the knife to my ear, I hear faint sounds of people singing.

I must still be experiencing the effects of the drugs they injected into my arm.

The handle has a carving of those deadly, vile creatures on it. Horrified, I drop it, then notice out of the corner of my left eye someone standing in the doorway, smiling.

He clears his throat, causing me to jump.

My knees weaken. My heart pounds.

“I see you are finally awake. You have been sleeping for the last two days,” he says, taking a couple steps into the room.

Backing up against the wall, I almost fall over my own feet. I have to get to the knife lying on the floor, but he sees me looking at the weapon and rushes to pick it up before I can even take a breath.

“I am not going to hurt you. If I wanted you dead, I would not have bothered rescuing you. My name is Lann,” he says, reaching out one hand to me while he pockets the blade with his other. Lann is tall, lean but strong, with dark hair and green eyes, similar to mine and Brit’s. He appears to be in his mid-twenties. He has flawless skin, and a smile that would melt the hearts of any girl. The only imperfection I see is the puffiness surrounding his eyes, revealing how tired he is.

Eyebrow raised, Lann looks me up and down.

There’s nothing stopping him from hurting me. Accepting that Lann must not intend to kill me, I reach for his hand.

“Katriona, but my friends call me Kate,” I say, staying as firm in my grip as possible to mask the fear I’m still working to subdue in my voice.

For an instant, I see a flash of surprise in Lann’s eyes, and then it disappears.

“Well, Kate. It is very nice to meet you. Would you like to go visit your friend?”

“B-Brad is a-alive?” My knees finally give out.

He catches me before I hit the floor.

“I am sure he has seen better days, but yes, your Brad is
alive,
” Lann says, standing me back on my feet.

The way he hung on the last word makes me desperate; I feel like there might not be much time left for Brad at all.

“Please, yes, I have to see him,” I whisper, barely audible—even to myself.

Lann leads me down the brown, earthen hallway at a pace that makes me want to punch him. Taking deep breaths, I focus straight ahead, and I imagine the horrors waiting for me in Brad’s room. I expect he’ll be hooked up to machines, monitored by doctors, and medicated beyond belief.

Lann pushes open the door, then stands aside.

Two doors down from me, Brad lies in bed—
alive
. His injured face is pale, but someone has taken great care in closing the gaping wounds with stitches. Blisters cover every exposed part of his body. I don’t even want to imagine what his back looks like; the thought makes me shudder.

“If you will excuse me.” Lann bows, then leaves Brad and me to be alone.

I speed across the room and sit next to him. Taking his hand in mine, I realize how bad he is. Fever wracks Brad’s body.

He opens his bloodshot eyes. They’re full of confusion, as if he’s searching his memory to place who I am.

“Why didn’t you go back?” Brad asks. His voice cracks, but even though he sounds like he could use a drink of water, I still hear how frustrated he is with me.

“When you pushed me, I fell to the ground, not back into the water. Don’t you remember? We didn’t make it; we must have been disoriented. I saw the arrows flying from the trees and those awful creatures die, and I came to you. I thought you were dead. Someone picked me up, and the next thing I know I’m here … and you’re alive!” I say, through tears mixed with joy and sadness. I bury my head next to him, too ashamed to look him in the eyes.

Brad shouldn’t be here.

Placing his fingers under my chin, he lifts my head. I look at the brokenness of my friend; his face contorts. He must be in so much pain.

“How bad does it hurt?” I ask.

Brad shakes his head. “Kate, have they talked to you about anything that’s going on here?”

“No. I just woke up, for the first time since we were attacked.” I look at my hands, too embarrassed to meet his eyes. Brad has endured a brutal attack, and I slept longer than he did.

“Hey there,” he says, caressing my cheek with the back of his sweaty fingers.

Brad’s touch leaves traces of fever burning across my face.

“Everything is going to be okay.”

“What have they told you?” I stifle the sobs that are sure to betray me any moment.

“They say we’re in a place called Encardia. One of the doctors, if you can call him that, thinks we might have accidentally travelled through a portal to this world. Then he went on to mutter some stuff about how that’s impossible. I think he’s crazy.”

Brad pierces me with a hard stare, but his eyebrow raises just a little—he thinks this is some kind of sick joke. He’s a literal person, but even without him knowing about the yellow light I followed, the portal makes sense. How else can he explain swimming into a cave in the middle of a river and landing flat on our faces inside this nightmare? From the moment our bodies slammed into the ground, I’ve suspected we left our own world. Now that I’m coherent, the only thing that makes sense is some sort of parallel universe.