Fire

Chapter Three - Ignite

Cassandra's breath escaped her on an unwanted gasp. The air tinged with a familiar metallic scent but in the dying embers of the fire, she easily made out Ignatio's savage features and had little doubt that the liquid streaming down his arms was blood.

The first coherent thought that ran through her mind was: Is he okay? Oh God please let him be okay! I can't deal with this without him!

Ignatio quickly waved his hand in the direction of the fire, illuminating the cave once again in a golden red glow, proving her suspicions to be correct; he was indeed covered in blood.

"...yours?" Cass breathed out, mouth dry, staring at him in hesitation. Her voice sounded rough, like sandpaper rubbing against itself.

Ignatio arched an eyebrow in her direction, unsure as to whether he had achieved his goal, to make her afraid of him. Either way, he hadn't thought would be this displeased if he succeeded.

"His," he removed his shirt and used it to wipe down his arms and remove as much blood as he possibly could, frowning deeply as he heard her immense sigh of relief.

"What happened?" Cass stood, extracting herself from the safety of the pallet and proceeded towards him. She appeared genuinely concerned, which puzzled him further. Ignatio held up a hand to halt her.

"I told you, we need to leave," was all he replied and tossed his now spoiled shirt into the consuming fire, "and we need to get out of these clothes."

Cass huffed, irritated that he was retreating into that area of mystery, which he assumed kept her safe but all it did was annoy her immensely.

"Now is not the time for sexy talk, and I'm not allowing your naked chest to distract me from getting the answers out of you, mister."

Ignatio barked out a laugh despite the dire circumstances. He realised that she was trying to tease him back to his not-so-serious self but a small part of him hoped to God that she wasn't being serious about sex at time like this. When he turned to face her, he discovered that her eyes were blazing with defiance, mirrored by her arms crossed over her chest, even though an unwanted half-smile lingered on her lips.

"You're not going to move until I give you something, are you?" she shrugged and arched an eyebrow. He chuckled involuntarily, wondering how he'd ever thought she was going to give in to his command without any answers. With a sigh, he gave in, "I discovered a soldier outside –don't worry, he's dead- but that isn't good news for us either so we need to leave."

"But-"

"No buts," Ignatio said as he went for his finite stack of clean clothes to get them something to wear, "You said you wanted something, but you didn't specify. Now take these and go get changed."

She huffed and pouted but accepted the clothing and went to the other side of the room. While Ignatio quickly began removing his clothing and wiping off the blood, she glanced over her shoulder fearfully admiring the ease with which he cleaned himself and returned to looking normal again.

What happened? Why won't you tell me? I'm not a child, Nate. I can take it!

These frustrations ran through her mind, confusing her about the character of the man. He was so many contradictions –too many- that she wondered if her blind faith in him was exactly that, blind. Perhaps Ignatio was a vicious killer and her obsession with showing him grace was only superficial... was she the type of girl who believed that her love could change someone from their erring behaviour? Did she have such a god-complex?

And what about love?

Was her love for this man totally misplaced? Was he really a monster like he so wanted her to believe? Was she in the clutches of a beast, allowing her naiveté to convince her that love could overcome all obstacles –even give a killer redemption?