Burning of the Beast

Chapter 6

    Smoke clouded the corridor, flames whipped from the wood of the walls, licking the skin of his left arm. River gritted through the searing of his flesh as he barreled toward the last door on the right.
    He slammed it open and stopped in his tracks.
    The room lay empty, except for the flames and smoke.
    A sigh of relief left him, a giant weight being lifted.
    But then he glanced back down the narrow hall, the wood crumbling around him in the vessel, and he knew there was no escaping.
    The element he easily controlled would consume him. And maybe that was the way it was always supposed to be.
    Flames swirled around him as he accepted his fate.
    River stared out at the ocean, the rough waves slamming the shore of rocks. The morning sky was overcast of gray as thick fog crept from the sea.
    The black rock in his chest had started to beat again—and quite frankly, he wasn't sure how to feel about it. It had started to beat with consistency and purpose. Something he hadn't felt in centuries.
    And he was . . . hungry. Starving even.
    As if on cue, his stomach growled.
    And goddammit, he could smell again. The scent of salt on the ocean breeze, and he could feel the air travel along his skin as if the universe were caressing him with its ghostly fingertips. He closed his eyes as the wind blew back his hair, the chill of the morning sending goosebumps along his skin.
    Fuck, he could cry. He hadn't realized how much he missed the breeze.
    Hell, he was even barefoot, feet buried in the sand, the small granules a slice of heaven to his neglected soles.
    All the small things. Things he took for granted, and now he was feeling them all at once, senses overloaded with everything. He'd love to lie and say he didn't know when it all started but . . . he knew exactly down to the second.
    When Rayanne touched his face—warmth had spread through him and his heart kicked on like an old refrigerator. The slowest beat at first, but a beat all the same. And when she had pressed her lips to his, he tasted the sweetness and he wanted to taste more. He wanted to slide his fingers through her strands of red silk.
    And he could smell the sweet perfume of sandalwood, amber, and patchouli along her neck—could taste the salt of her throat. Raw hunger nearly overpowered him. God, he could've eaten her.
    She tasted better than he remembered.
    With the senses, all the emotions came rushing back too, flooding him, the levees inside him close to breaking in the unforgiving waters.
    His lips parted as he took in another breath, his eyes unwantedly watering.
    He swallowed hard, the lump in his throat burning as he drowned beneath the waves of his emotions and dropped his ass flat on the dirt. A light mist of rain began to pelt his flesh, sprinkling across his forehead and nose. And with a deep sigh, he lay his back on the sand and let the rain baptize him into oblivion.

* * *

    The jukebox played oldies in the corner of the old bar. Grabbing two empty beer bottles off the counter of the bar, Rayanne wiped down the cherry wood with a towel. She glanced at the clock on the wall, an annoyed breath leaving her as the hands struck midnight.
    She didn't like having to work two jobs, but she couldn't afford not to in this economy. She leaned her elbow on the counter and held her chin in her hand as she contemplated going home early.
    "Two more hours to go," JB snuck up beside her and placed two shot glasses on the counter and grabbed a bottle of cinnamon whiskey, pouring the liquid to the rim of the glasses. "Let's make it pass faster."
    One shot turned into three and three turned into five. A typical slow Tuesday night.
    Aside from the handful of regulars, the small bar was damn near empty. JB put a line-up of Fleetwood Mac on the jukebox and cranked up the volume, the floorboards creaking beneath their feet as they danced around each other. The liquor finally sinking its way to her veins and head as her body loosened up.
    Then a familiar beat began to play as JB and her twirled each other.
    "Rhiannon rings like a bell through the night, and wouldn't you love to love her?"
    One minute, she was dancing with JB and the next, an older regular named Steve twirled her about. She closed her eyes and giggled as she spun. And then her hand softly slipped from his grasp for all of a second before another clasped her fingers. She felt herself being gently twirled back to the owner of said hand.
    A dark smoky scent engulfed her senses. And it smelled like home.
    Her eyes opened as her body pressed to the man's. Those stormy gray eyes stared down at her as if seeing her for the first time.
Rayanne's heart hammered in the dark as she heard the rough voices surrounding her. She palmed the cold wood around her and realized she was definitely in a box and not a car like she had been only seconds earlier. The top creaked open and she found herself staring up into the night sky dazed as she took in the brilliance of the stars.
    She'd never seen so many.
    And then the most handsome face she'd ever seen came into view, jawline and cheekbones carved from stone, strange hard silver-like eyes peering down at her—and it was like the world stopped. Her heart even skipped a solid beat and, for a moment, she forgot how to breathe.
    And it seemed he did too as he mirrored her. His brows rising as he stared at her like a deer in headlights, his mouth even parting.
    If love at first sight existed, she thought maybe she could attest to it in that moment.
    "All your life you've never seen woman taken by the wind, would you stay if she promised you heaven, will you ever win?" The song continued to play.
    River didn't look like a deer in headlights now, but he kept scanning her face as if she'd disappear any moment.
    In her drunken stupor, the world around her blurred and she wasn't sure if they were still moving or not as his hot mouth pressed down on hers. Her arms wrapped lazily over the back of his neck as she went to deepen the kiss. To her surprise, he pulled from her lips and pressed his forehead to hers as they swayed gently.