Page 15 of I Am the Storm

Dreams flitin and out of my mind. Sometimes I know I'm asleep and sometimes it feels all too real. I see Adam, his hands covered in blood, crying. Jerry, his dead eyes staring at me, his hand raising to point an accusing finger. And then I see the man from the festival, his energy pulsing and feeling the most alive and real of anything I've ever dreamed. He seems to be reaching for me. Calling for me with a silent voice. But I can never get to him before I wake.

Sunlight streams into my bedroom as my eyes, swollen from tears after my fight with Derek, peel open. I feel like I've got the world's worst hangover, even though I wasn't drinking.

As my blurry vision gains focus, I see someone standing beside my bed holding a tray of food. They’re dressed in vibrant green and wearing a red scarf. Liam.

His intense golden eyes study me. "I didn't mean to wake you," he says, a shy smile forming as he puts the platter down on the bedside dresser. "I just wanted you to have some food available when you woke."

I leap out of bed and cut off his flow of words by throwing myself into his arms shouting, "You're back!"

Relief floods me and I can't let go of him. He smells of wood and fire and feels so solid and strong, I could stay in his arms all day.

"I got out on bail," he says, his lips brushing my earlobe.

I finally pull away, though I clutch his hands in mine to keep him close. "Have you seen Lily? Is she okay?"

"She is," he says. "Matilda administered the potion, so Lily will recover. It will just take time. Dryads heal slowly. Trees are not fast at anything."

I nod. "I'm glad she'll be okay. This whole thing has been so awful."

He runs a hand through his red hair, and I notice a pink scar running up his left arm. It looks fresh, puckered, and raw. It wasn't there last night. "What happened?" I ask.

"Just a scratch." He releases my hand to tug his sleeve over the wound. "The Enforcers didn't appreciate my lack of useful information about the crimes in question. They did their level best to loosen my tongue. To no avail, obviously."

He tries to make light of it, but I can see the rage simmering behind his eyes, and I feel it boiling up in me as well. "They tortured you?" I ask through clenched teeth.

"I've had worse," he says quietly. Then he drops his head and looks away from me. "I've done worse."

I remember his curse. How his fire raged out of control before he became a vampire. But I get the sense there’s more to his words. Other dark deeds in his ancient past.

I'm not naive or stupid. The Night Brothers have made mistakes, done horrible things. I chose to accept that when I chose to stay at this firm and in this family. I'm not here to judge what they've done in the past, but I sure as hell am going to judge what was done to him now. "This has to be illegal," I say, my own temper flaring, the fire in me burning through my skin.

Liam looks down at my hand in surprise as flames dance along my skin and against his. Fortunately, he's immune to the dangers of my fire. Does this mean I'll be immune to his as well, I wonder?

"It is illegal," Liam says, still watching my hand. When the flames die down, he looks up, surprise on his face. "We should test your powers when there's time. They’re growing."

"Yes, we should, but right now we need to deal with this mess. If it's illegal to torture, then they need to be brought before a judge."

Liam scoffs. "There hasn't been a new dragon egg since the creation of the Otherworld," he says. "More than a thousand years. Enforcers will do whatever it takes to get it back. And if they break a few rules along the way, who's going to hold them accountable? The dragons?"

I shake my head, disgusted with how some get away with anything while others are held accountable for more than their share. And it all has to do with race, money, and power. Some things are the same everywhere.

I glance at his arm again, at the wound there, and tilt my neck. "If you need blood," I say, the invitation clear.

He runs a finger over my neck, and I can see the desire in his eyes, but he shakes his head and kisses me gently instead. "I've already fed. I just wanted to see you. And to bring you food," he says, gesturing at the platter, which is filled with eggs, cheese and dates, and a goblet of juice.

"I'm starving actually," I say as my stomach rumbles. It's easy to forget to eat when you live with vampires, though they are certainly doing their best to remind me at every turn.

I take the tray to the table in front of the fire and he joins me in the other seat while I eat. "Don't worry," I say. "We have a plan. We'll find out whoever is framing you and—"

"I tortured someone," he says, interrupting me, his gaze lost in the fire, his mind somewhere in the past. The flames dance over his pale skin as he speaks quietly of his past. "Long ago…thirty lashes for the crime they had committed. I…I didn't want to, but it was required of me by my Order."

I reach for his hand, having finished all my food. "What was the crime?" I ask.

"They had forsaken their oath," he says, then glances at me, his eyes glistening with the pain of the memory. "They had given in to the dark Magicks. Used it to kill rather than heal. Thirty lashes," he says, returning his gaze to the fire. "And it was only the start of their punishment."

He pulls his hand from mine and rolls up his sleeve, looking at the red lines that run past his elbow. There is more than one scar and I can only imagine what the rest of him looks like beneath his clothes. "I should have refused," he says, staring at the reminders of his recent torture. "Even if it meant leaving the Druidic Order. I should have refused." He looks away, from the fire, from me, from the memory, maybe. "But I didn't. I followed my orders, even though I was a healer. Even though I was sworn to do no harm."

We are both quiet for some time, and then he turns back to face me, his eyes haunted. "I thought you should know. With…with what's happening between us, whatever it is, I thought you should know the truth of me."