Eyes of Ember (Imdalind Series #2) Read online

  Eyes Of Ember

  Rebecca Ethington

  Book One: Kiss of Fire

  Book Two: Eyes of Ember

  Book Three: Scorched Treachery

  Book Four: Soul of Flame (12/13)

  Book Five: TBA

  Text Copyright ©2013 by Rebecca Ethington

  The Imdalind Series, characters, names, and related indicia are trademarks and © of Rebecca Ethington.

  The Imdalind Series Publishing rights © Rebecca Ethington

  All Rights Reserved.

  Published by Imdalind Press

  No Part of this publication may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission of the publisher. For Information regarding permission, write to:

  Rebecca Ethington – permissions@ Rebecca Ethington.com

  Copyediting by Kim Sheard, Another View Editing

  Cover Design @ Sarah Hansen, Okay Creations

  Production Management by Imdalind Press

  ISBN 978-0-9884837-2-9

  Printed in USA

  This Edition, April 2013

  To My Mom

  Who has stayed with this story from the beginning.

  To Dan

  Who never stopped believing in me.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  A Preview of Scorched Treachery, Book Three in the Imdalind Series

  One

  I am going to kill Edmund LaRue.

  I repeated the words to myself as a reminder that the thought was still there, that my conviction was still true.

  The thought had started as an ember of possibility when I saw Edmund wipe the last of Ryland’s memories three nights ago. And with them went all the memories of me. If it had been more than an ember or if I had been more powerful, I would have killed him then. As it was, Ilyan had grabbed me and dragged me away.

  Being forced to leave the one person in the world that I loved had snapped something deep inside of me, and the thought had grown, the ember growing into a spark.

  That spark promised me I would be the one to kill Edmund. He had destroyed my best friend, the one person left for me to love. I owed him for that.

  The spark became a flame when I went back and visited Ryland in our space between dream and reality for the last time. Inside of our Tȍuha I saw him as a little boy who looked at me and told me my eyes looked like diamonds. I could feel the flame in me then, an inferno of hatred, desire and power.

  Although my mind was set on its course and my chosen path was clear, my heart and body had not gotten the message. I spent the next three days trapped in overwhelming heartbreak that I could not escape, try as I might. My body ached with emotional pain and erased any desire that I had to move.

  I knew it was not a natural reaction. Something else was wrong. Somehow I knew that this was affecting me far more than a normal heartbreak should, but I still accepted it. In turn, I accepted my lack of determination to fight it. In the back of my mind, burning with a heat that scarred deep into my soul, the desire to strike Edmund from the earth still reigned.

  So I lay still, an emotionless mask in place as my soul battled with itself. My mind planned Edmund’s demise while I ached for what it could not have, what had been taken from me.

  I could have stayed locked in my torment forever if Ilyan had not been so persistent.

  “Silnỳ, it’s time to wake up.”

  His voice was soft in my ear, his hand resting against the side of my face. His fore finger rested softly on the mark below my ear, the mark that had destroyed my life. I pushed his hand away and covered my head with the thick comforter in an attempt to ignore him.

  “You have to get out of bed sometime, prosím Joclyn.” He placed his hand over the blanket, the weight of it pushing into my shoulder. I wished he would move away. I didn’t want his comfort.

  “Leave me alone,” I said, my voice harsh.

  “I can’t do that, Silnỳ. You know I won’t.” Ilyan’s Slavic accent grew deeper as he spoke.

  I knew he wouldn’t leave me alone. He had been trying to get me out of this bed for the last three days.

  From under my comforter, I had watched him as he moved around the tiny studio apartment we were trapped in. My eyes followed him as he made bowl after bowl of vegetable soup, forcing me to eat and drink when I wouldn’t even bother talking to him. I watched him as he sat at the table working on some project or another. He had made a nest of blankets in the small space of floor near the bed, content to give me space and privacy but also too scared to go far. I had listened as he spoke on the phone with Ovailia, getting updates of who had arrived in Prague, every hour on the hour. Part of me wanted to be there, with Wyn and all the others like me, but the other part reminded me how much danger I was in and how important it was I stay hidden.

  Ilyan had even called Wyn and prompted me to talk to her about what I was feeling, but nothing Wyn said had helped either. I ignored it all.

  I wasn’t sure what I wanted, or what I needed. The desire to seek Edmund out right then was strong, but I still couldn’t dig that desire out from behind the oppressive wall of despair and pain I had built.

  The pressure of Ilyan’s hand increased as he moved it around to rub my back. I shied away from the contact even more, it made me uncomfortable. He wasn’t supposed to be the one to comfort me. But the one who should was gone forever.

  I didn’t want Ilyan to touch me.

  “Joclyn.”

  I pulled down the blanket enough to look out at him. His straggly blonde hair was longer than usual, hanging down to his shoulder blades, and his face was full of worry.

  “Ahoj,” he whispered as I emerged from underneath the blankets. “How are you feeling?”

  I closed my eyes, unsure of how to answer him. I was angry, desperate, lost, broken, in pain, and sad. It shouldn’t be possible for one person to feel so many emotions at the same time.

  “I hurt,” I said, my voice cracking with uncertainty.

  “Where?” he asked, alarmed.

  “In my heart.” It was the best response I could come up with. While my heart did hurt, it was more than that. Everything inside me was shattered. Rather than a broken heart, this felt more like broken everything. My heart was constricted, but around it my whole body felt tight and like it was bound together with hot wire.

  And underneath the lethargy... the desire for revenge burned steadily.

  “I know how you feel.” I reeled and swelled with anger
. I knew he meant well, that he was trying to connect with me, but it felt like he was invalidating my feelings.

  “How could you possibly know how I feel?” I snapped. Ilyan didn’t back away from my harsh words. He continued rubbing his hand against my spine, the pressure somewhat dulled through the blankets.

  “Edmund has taken something away from me too, Silnỳ. Ryland was my brother as much as he was your other half, your mate. I can’t help but feel that I failed you as much as I failed him.”

  I wanted to yell at him for not teaching me to use my magic better, for not training me the right way. I wanted to blame him for taking me into a battle unprepared, but that wasn’t right. It wasn’t all his fault, and he didn’t deserve all the blame. It was my fault too. It was my fault we had lost Ryland.

  “I failed him too, Ilyan. I failed you. I failed everyone.” I pushed the blanket away from myself as the frustration of what I was saying hit me. “All you asked me to do was get him out, and I couldn’t even do that.”

  I cringed at how bitter my voice sounded, how angry each syllable tasted against my tongue.

  I shifted my weight as I moved to sit, the pressure in my unwilling joints building as I moved. Ilyan reached out to help me as he came to sit next to me. My back seized and I swayed as I sat, my body torn between crying, yelling, and finding some way to disappear.

  “You didn’t fail, Silnỳ,” Ilyan’s hand moved from mine to rest against the skin of my cheek. His touch was hot with the warmth of his powerful magic that pulsed underneath his skin. Ilyan kept his ability restrained inside of him, just the opposite of Ryland who used to comfort and heal me with every touch.

  Ilyan caressed my cheek, letting his fingers trail behind my ear to rest on my mark. He kept his hand there, his eyes wide as he looked into mine. I could tell he was trying to understand what was going on inside me and I wished I could tell him, but even I didn’t know.

  “I did fail,” I spoke harshly, “and now I am alone.”

  I wasn’t sure if I spoke out of loss, or in anger at the new reality Edmund had made for me. Both thoughts occupied the forefront of my mind, each vying for my attention.

  “You have me, Silnỳ, and you have Wyn. We are both here to help you through this.” I stiffened away from his touch. I knew he was right, but I was still scared to let anyone else in. My heart hurt too much. I was broken now more than ever.

  “I know,” I whispered, trying to find the strength to explain. “I want him back, Ilyan. I wish...”

  “I know,” Ilyan said, cutting me off softly. “I want him back too. But he is gone, Joclyn. There is no finding him. His mind has been erased.”

  “Please, don’t...” I begged. I didn’t want to hear it.

  I moved away from him, my body leaning against the wall.

  “Why did we have to fail?”

  “Everything happens for a reason, Silnỳ,” he said. “Perhaps we must move through this trial to meet our true purpose.” His voice had taken on the regal air that was so fitting for him as the ruler of the protectors of magic, the Skȓítek. I cringed against his tone.

  “True purpose,” I repeated, shocked to feel the flame within me grow stronger.

  Ilyan ran his fingers through the stubble of hair on the back of my head, his hand moving down to my back and over the skin that was revealed by the shredded club clothes I still wore. I pulled away from his touch, my stomach twisting at his intimacy.

  “What do you want to do, Joclyn? What is your true purpose?” Ilyan asked softly.

  His words were like gasoline on an open flame. They burned and smoldered inside of me, igniting the need for revenge, making it stronger. The web of heartbreak and confusion shattered, the remaining fragments swallowed up by my growing determination. I could see everything before me, my true path as it was laid out.

  “I want to avenge Ryland. I want to be the one to destroy Edmund LaRue.” My voice rang clear through the apartment, the power behind it causing Ilyan’s eyes to widen in shock.

  “You want to fight?” Ilyan asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Then I will teach you everything you need to know,” Ilyan said, as my nerves jumped in anticipation. I could feel my soul piecing itself back together with the thought.

  “Everything?” Before, Ilyan had only taught me the basics and it had ended badly for everyone.

  “Yes, Silnỳ. This time you need to know everything. I had hoped that by bringing you two together I would be able to unlock your true ability. That’s why I taught you so little. I wanted to see what you could do, and it was very foolish of me. But now, Ryland has lost his memories of you and become his Father’s puppet. He is now only a weapon at Edmund’s disposal. Ryland as he is now will stop at nothing to hunt you down and kill you Joclyn. If you wish to be the one to avenge your mate, you must prepare.”

  I nodded once and attempted to cast aside the last of my self-pity, my pain, and heartbreak. Though it didn’t leave, it became another fragment of the broken person I had become.

  Ilyan squared his jaw and stood to face me, his hand extended toward me.

  “Then come, it’s time to begin.”

  I widened my eyes. He didn’t mean now, did he? But it was obvious he did. His jaw was clenched and his eyes held that maniacal power I had seen in him so many times before.

  I breathed deeply, preparing myself before I took his hand. Ilyan pulled me to standing, my joints swelling in subtle pain as I moved. I stood facing him defying the pain of my long-inactive body. I had been standing for a moment before I knew something was wrong. My head swam and my body felt like it was turning on the spot, my balance leaving with the crazy motion. I shifted sideways as my body fell, Ilyan’s arms reaching out to catch me just in time.

  “Are you alright?” Ilyan asked. The alarm in his voice surprised me. I nodded my head, the room spinning less and less.

  “You haven’t stood in a few days; I suppose it is to be expected.” His voice was low, as if even he didn’t believe his words. His grip on my elbow tightened a bit as we began to move, obviously worried I would fall again.

  He looked at me, his forehead crinkled, before grabbing one of the half-filled glasses of water that he had been forcing me to drink from for days.

  After I drank, Ilyan walked me toward the small bathroom. I looked behind me reluctantly; the small double bed was pushed up against the side wall and the bathroom wall. A sliding glass door was at the foot of the bed and the tiny kitchen was on the other wall. The only floor space to speak of was between the bed and kitchen, but most of that was taken up by Ilyan’s makeshift bed.

  It was a tissue box that someone had mistaken for a studio apartment. The idea of spending any amount of time in this claustrophobic space was nauseating; sharing it with another person was terrifying.

  “I want you to take a shower. There are clothes in the bathroom for you.”

  Sitting on the counter in the bathroom was a small pile of clothes, including a black hoodie I had never seen before.

  “Where is Ryland’s hoodie?” I asked, unsurprised by my alarm.

  “It’s gone, Joclyn. When we failed, many of our number fled to the Motel. They were followed. Anything that was left there was destroyed out of necessity.”

  My heart sunk and my head swam again, Ilyan’s hold on my elbow increased as my body swayed to one side.

  “Maybe now is not the time for a shower,” he said.

  I looked down. My shirt was scraps of fabric and my stomach was covered by dried blood and ash. My mind flashed back to memories of that night; to Ryland digging a tiny blade into my chest. I swallowed hard, willing the tears to stay away.

  “Now is fine,” I said.

  “Good, but first...”

  Ilyan placed his hand against my face, his eyes boring into mine as he pushed his magic into me. I wondered what he was doing, but he only smiled at me, his blue eyes twinkling. My head began to prickle as his magic congregated there, causing my hair to grow back to how it was
before.

  Ilyan removed his hand and his magic left me. I turned to look at myself in the mirror. Dark black make-up was smeared all over my face, my bright silver eyes twinkling among the smudges, but my hair was black, straight, and long again – maybe even a bit longer than it had been originally.

  “Thank you.”

  “Of course,” he said as he turned on the steaming water before moving toward the door. “Enjoy your shower. I’ll have a surprise waiting for you when you get out.”

  The door clicked shut behind him. I didn’t look at it for long before turning toward the sink that I leaned against. My reflection was staring at me through the mirror, my mouth opening in shock at the haggard face that looked back. All my battle wounds were still visible and much of my body was covered with dried blood. I ripped off what was left of my shirt and followed the trail of dried blood up to a small scar that now lay over my heart.

  A small line of raised skin stood out where Ryland had stabbed me in his attempt to kill me. The scar was rough from the quick healing he had done in the brief time that he had regained control of his body. That was the last time he was himself; before his mind had been erased forever.

  I ripped my eyes away from the scar and they landed on the ruby necklace that hung around my neck; another gift from him. I reached up and grabbed it, removing the chain from around my neck, and scraping off the blood that had dried to the beautiful ruby to reveal the bright stone underneath.

  I hadn’t touched the stone since I had used it to see an adorable five year old boy who had promised to take my pain away and who said he loved my eyes. It was the final proof that Ryland as I knew him was gone.

  I threw the necklace into the sink, the stone clinking loudly against the porcelain. I didn’t want to enter the Tȍuha ever again. Seeing it there in the sink made me want to snatch it back up and keep it safe. But I hadn’t felt the beat of Ryland’s heart emanate from it for days. The connection had died.