Killing Mila (wildfire: rewritten)

3. Elemental

Now that I know there's a good chance I'm about to die, the gears in my brain switch to protecting what little I do have control over – like whether or not my unfortunate actions manage to get my best friend killed along with me.

My captor laces our fingers together, steering me purposefully in the direction of the exit. I force myself to stare fixedly at his back – to not let my gaze wander – no matter how badly I want to search for her. But what if she spies me first? What if she can identify him when they find my body?

My heart gives a violent lurch, and doesn't slow as we hit the concrete stairwell that will take us back up to the surface. For once, I barely feel the cold as we step out onto the street outside. Still, he releases my hand to slide one long, burly arm around my shoulders, enveloping me in the heat of his body. In the scent of him: like pine cones and sweat and man.

Even knowing that he's holding me like this to keep me from running – from making an escape attempt – doesn't negate the effect he has on my body. God, how long has it been since I've felt truly warm?

He strides past the line of shivering people waiting outside the club, flagging down a cab less than a block away, even at this time of night. Somehow, he manages to guide me into the back of the taxi without breaking contact, and I let him – right up until the moment he attempts to secure my seatbelt.

A strangled laugh scrapes my throat and he pauses to stare at me, his strange eyes scanning my face like I'm a puzzle he can't quite figure out. But he's the one behaving like a safety conscious boyfriend when his entire plan for tonight revolves around the fact that I'm not going to end it breathing.

Slowly, carefully, he slides the metal tongue into place with an ominous click. "Second thoughts, little girl?"

His voice is low – too low for the cab driver to overhear – but still, he manages to convey a wealth of menace I'm not expecting from him. It makes me flinch. Kicks my heart rate up another notch. It's almost like he's angry with me – for not fighting back? For making this so damn easy for him? Isn't that what he wants?

His grip on the seatbelt tightens, pulling tighter across my front.

I gasp. Unease rolls through me in waves, shredding quickly through my resolve until I'm not sure I can go through with this. Why can't he make this easy on me?

For a moment, all he does is hold me captive against the seat, crowding me. He's a lot taller and broader than he seemed in the nightclub, taking up most of the room on the backseat, and I'm hyperaware of how powerfully built he seems. How deceptively strong and intimidating. A rash of goosebumps breaks out on my skin, all suggestion of heat suddenly leeched from my skin.

"Yes," I whisper.

The corners of his lips turn up, like he's on the verge of another feral smile – and the menace dissolves in his eyes. He loosens his grip on the seatbelt and I gulp down a mouthful of air, feeling my lungs expand. It feels like I'm strapped into a rollercoaster and I've just cleared the first terrifying hurdle, only to find myself on the slow, trundling ascent toward an even scarier peak.

"Too late," he says.

He relaxes back onto the seat next to me, pulling his own belt across his torso as an afterthought.

The taxi driver clears his throat awkwardly. "Where are we going tonight, folks?"

My captor looks at me expectantly, his expression almost – bland. But there's no hiding the hint of darkness lurking in his strangely coloured eyes. "Tell him your address."

I swallow, hard. It's a struggle to force the words out when I know, deep down, this is my last opportunity to tilt the scales in my favour. To find some way of making it out of his encounter alive. I could give the driver the wrong address. Send him driving around in circles until I could remember the location of a police station. Or somewhere crowded with people, where I could attempt to disappear. But what he hurts the driver, too? What if he takes my defiance out on him? He may be innocent – but so am I, and that didn't stop him from following after me.