Hellfire

Chapter Twenty

I sat beneath my favourite tree, legs crossed and palms over my knees. The muggy heat beating down and my twitching temper had forced me to wear little, with the bruises of Lucius just about hidden behind a layer of foundation in the hopes people wouldn't notice. I was uncomfortable, irritable and sweaty but, despite that, I was at least surrounded by peace. Doc was dozing near me with the bats hanging above like black leaves, twittering softly as they snuffled in Lucius' sleep, and the distant drone of Bullard working the endless gardens hummed in the distance. Quiet enough for me to try think about how I was going to fix my fire problem.

I was breathing evenly, slowly, and focused on my heartbeat and not the pinging emotions rattling the lock of my hellfire. I tried to logically go over everything I knew of Brights and their fires, which wasn't a lot. Somehow their detonations were cut off. The Covens knew how to do it and guarded that information jealously and, apparently, vampires couldn't soothe a Bright and made them worse. I wrinkled my nose as Lucius loomed, all winter and male authority, deciding they weren't wrong with how unstable he was making me at the moment.

I quickly set him aside though when I found myself scratching my arm again, so hard bruising was being left behind like thin welts. Doc had given me ointment to help but it didn't seem to do a thing. He didn't know what was wrong either, and he hadn't heard back from his friend yet either. It constantly itched now and the skin twisted like thorns were trying to break free. It wasn't me immediate problem though. This itching wasn't going to kill me – my hellfire and irrational fury was.

I focused on my predicament of needing to control my fire by myself. I thought of my mum, that fierce witch who'd been slaughtered when I was child. She'd always known I was Bright and raised me knowing exactly what I was. I never cared to remember the specifics of my childhood as I melted into a ball of flames. All I could recall were faces, happy things, and nothing about my hellfire.

My mother and aunts knew something about me, they had to have done. All Brights are taken the moment at birth, yet my family hadn't. They'd hidden me and risked everything instead.

I need to remember.

I tightened my jaw and tried to coax the memories up from the dark recesses of my mind, but all it did was turn my blood cold and my chest to tighten. I couldn't conjure anything Theodora said, my mind just caved in and darkness thickened, refusing to let me remember anything but the death and blood and sheer terror, my aunt torn open and choking blood as she clutched at my hand and demanded I live.

I released the memory hurriedly and let my fear rush out hurriedly, which triggered me to cough heavily, my lungs burning and throat growing dry. When I could breathe again, I dropped forward and planted my cheek against the cool grass as I sucked in the summer air and tang of cut grass.

Doc opened an eye. 'No luck?'

'Nothing.' I grunted. 'Do you know how to stifle my fires?'

'If I did, I would've done so years ago. I'm fond of you, Susan.'

I coughed softly. 'Can you end me?'

He stared, the old burns I'd inflicted on him shimmering beneath the sunlight. 'No. You need someone who can end you from a distance. I don't have magic in a sorcerer's way.'

A vampire would be best then, a sorcerer who ruled over blood and flesh. And all my thoughts led back to Lucius, that stubborn, cold, frustratingly attractive vampire lord. It had to be him. I wanted it to be him. Thinking he'd end me, send me to sleep with a gentle embrace, was so...calming.

Doc realised my thoughts quickly by the rush of smoke I let out. 'Lucius is not the man for the task anymore.'

Another who said the same as Alistair. Sam had too, in fact I felt shit when I snarled at her Lucius wouldn't kill me when she asked why my fire was out of control at the moment. She looked like her heart hurt.