Chapter 3

S he struggled, and the weight on her back lifted as the blond man dragged her unceremoniously to her feet.

"Are you hurt?" He raised a gentle hand to her cheek, a finger tracing the path that had felt the touch of the fireball. Without waiting for an answer, he whirled on the other man, pushing her behind him. "How now, Ashe. You know Earth, and everything about her, is sacrosanct."

Ashe's glance skated over her dismissively, and he lifted his hands in surrender. He scoffed in either resignation or disgust, Ember couldn't tell. "You know full well I was aiming at you."

"I doubt the Adjudicator would see it that way. Perhaps you need to work on your aim."

Ashe's face darkened, and another ball of fire appeared in his hand. He held it up with a scowl. "Perhaps I do."

The blond man didn't show any sign of fear. Instead, he laughed, genuine amusement on his face. "Try it."

The inertia that had gripped Ember's body— shock— receded, and she edged backwards, wanting to put as much distance between her and that ball of fire as possible. She wasn't sure what was happening, but she knew she didn't want to be in the middle of some shoot-out with fireworks, or whatever the hell was going on. And that freaky mist that had torn a hole in the world? She blocked that out. She had a bus to catch.

Another step and another, and then she spun, about to run, when the fireball soared over her head, hit the ground, and exploded. It sent up a roaring wall of flame across the road, blocking her path.

Ember screamed, covering her head with her hands. She scrambled back, collided with the blond man, and lost her balance. He slid an arm around her, steadying her, and for an instant their eyes met. His, an intense green dancing with amusement, and hers, a wide-eyed amber filled with bewilderment. He smiled again, slow and sweet, as though he had all the time in the world, as if a maniac chucking fireballs at them mattered not a jot.

"Get away from her, Cole," Ashe warned, his expression as dark and foreboding as the uniform he wore.

"No."

"I'm warning you."

"And I accept your warning."

Ashe gave a grunt of derision and stepped back into the black fog, the wall of fire on the street abruptly vanishing. The cloud closed around Ashe like a zip closing in a cacophony of crackling static that made Ember wince, before swirling and dissipating so quickly it was as though it hadn't been there at all. But there was the other fog bank still billowing nearby, and through the drifts, a glimpse of towering trees and green hills …

The mass eddied, obscuring her view, and then Cole was in front of her, taking up all her attention. She became acutely aware of his scent, as warm and sultry as cinnamon and leather and grass after the rain. She raised her eyes to him, and his searing gaze immediately drew her in, giving her the impression she had just been scorched by another fireball.

"I have to go," she said, faintly. There were too many questions jostling in her head, the loudest of which was, what the fuck is going on? But greater than the desire to ask was the need to run and run and never look back. She shoved at the arm still holding her, wondering if he would let her go, and what she would do if he didn't, and then felt almost disappointed when his arm fell away from her waist.

He stepped back and gave a courtly, old-fashioned bow. "Forgive me and my cousin for scaring you. It was naught, but a game gone awry. He meant you no harm."

Ember swallowed. She couldn't think of anything to say to that. How could he speak so easily, so fluently, when behind him was smoke leading to … Her eyes widened. A castle stood on a distant hill, complete with turrets and flags. The mist whirled, and it vanished.

"I have to go," she repeated, edging around him.

"What is your name?"

"Uh…"

Usually, when a random stranger asked for her name, she would pull a fake one out of the air: Dolores, Natalie, Cynthia, Rose, anything. But the only thing that came out was the truth, "Ember Bailey."

"Ember," he echoed, as though her name pleased him. He said something else, but an orange car approaching at speed drowned out his voice.

The car came to a screeching halt and when Bruno threw open the door and stepped out, Ember almost took off toward him. Bruno, although a tedious, abusive brute, was familiar. She could deal with Bruno. She wasn't sure she could deal with fireballs and castles in the fog and gorgeous men with a death wish.

"What the fuck?" Bruno muttered, taking in first the fog, then the stranger, and then her. "Get in the car, Ember."

The notion of running to Bruno for help vanished. "No."

Bruno took a step toward her, and then stopped, clearly confused by the roiling cloud of white fog in the middle of the road. "Ember, get in the car, or I call the cops."

"What?"

He grinned without mirth. "You stole from me."

The glaring truth of that statement was so banal after everything she'd just experienced that his threats seemed as empty as air.

"I didn't steal anything." Her tone was hard. "I earned it."

"We'll let the cops sort that out, shall we?"

He eyed Cole, calculating, and Ember could tell he was weighing up whether he could take Cole in a fight. Bruno often settled differences of opinion that way. He was heavy and stocky, but he was also quick, and he didn't believe in fighting fair.

Cole turned his back on Bruno with a casual disregard, and Bruno's face darkened. Bruno hated being ignored.

"Ember," said Cole, and again, it was as though the two of them were merely strolling down a summer lane or picnicking by a lazy river. "Do you wish to go with him?"

Ember shook her head emphatically. Bruno's face grew red.

"Friend," Cole said to Bruno, in a tone that suggested he considered Bruno the exact opposite. "She says not."

"Who the fuck asked you?" Bruno roared. "Ember, get the fuck in the car now. "

He reached behind him, and to Ember's horror, drew out a knife from his pocket and held it out, light glinting off the blade. His bellicose attitude became smugly superior, and he grinned. "Cut you both up."

"Bruno, put that away!" Ember's voice shook. "Don't be stupid."

Typical, she thought irrelevantly. This close to fulfilling the dream of a lifetime, and it was all falling to pieces because of a jealous bully and a …

She looked up at Cole. His flirtatious green gaze had become like flint, sending a thrill of fear down her back. What was he? There was something suddenly menacing about Cole, something cold and unfeeling, an aura of absolute indifference permeating his entire being. It wasn't hate, or anything remotely like it. That would have at least been something. This was an absence, a void, a dearth of humanity. This was what death was like. Ember shuddered. Bruno's jaw grew slack, the knife dangling from his fingers. He had felt it too.

"Run," Ember whispered.

There was a pause in the movement of the world. The breeze dropped. The birds stopped singing. Even Ember's heart seemed to take an agonisingly long time between beats. And in that moment, Cole raised a hand, and Bruno collapsed in on himself like a dying star, an implosion of flesh, clothing, hair, muscle, and tendons, his innards suddenly outward, and then there was nothing, but a bloody ball of smoking burnt meat on the road, the knife lying uselessly beside it.

Ember gulped and gagged. Her knees shook uncontrollably, but before she could sag to the ground in a dead faint, Cole slid his arm around her. The fog closed around them both, and they were gone.