Page 8 of Queen of Ashes and Scars
ARIELLE
Burns feel ten times worse to a vampire. We run colder than humans, so nothing prepared me for the white-hot pain of being set ablaze. The chain ensnares my neck, still hot enough to hurt, but slightly cooler since Alec took a giant leap away from me.
The vampire’s edges tremble like it pains him to keep his distance when I’m in distress.
I wrap a hand around my throat, the fire dying down to ashes. “I can’t breathe. It’s like… I’m—”
Vampires don’t need air to live, but they do need it to speak, and the last words die on my tongue. If I was mortal, I’d be dead by asphyxiation. My throat bobs, my body slowly adjusting to the lack of oxygen, and a sluggish ache takes hold of my muscles.
I prepare myself for the worst, thinking I might die right here, but the spell seems to have run its course, and I motion to my throat to make him understand I’m mute.
My bodyguard breathes heavily, his hair in disarray, his belt buckle still undone, his professional facade in shambles. “You can’t breathe anymore.”
I give Alec a tensed nod.
He steps closer, but I recoil, terrified that the spell will activate again.
He spins on his heels, chin angled to the sky. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”
Remaining at a safe distance, he guides me from roof to roof until we reach the address Keenan gave us. Sleek black asphalt reflects the moonlight behind the industrial hangar, the long runway allowing for enough space to take off and land. Alec feeds the right code to the keypad next to the front door and holds the door for me as I slip inside, being careful not to brush against him. The deserted hangar holds a small jet.
Alec checks his phone. “They should be here soon.”
As if on cue, the garage door whines on its hinges and slowly rises into the air. An electric-blue Mercedes drives in, the door quickly lowering behind it as Keenan parks next to us.
The sight of Leo lying unconscious in the passenger seat stokes the panic in my veins. I run to his side, concentrating on the faint thump of his sluggish heartbeats.He’s alive.The blood tainting my first-blood’s neck makes my beast roar in jealousy, and I grip the edge of the rolled-down window hard enough to crack it.
“Now, don’t bite. I pretended to kill him, and it had to look believable,” Keenan says quickly.
Unable to speak, I run my fingers through Leo’s soft hair and brush it away from his closed lids.
“Don’t worry, he’ll wake up in a few hours.” The angel slams the door closed behind and freezes, eyes fixed on my neck. “Fuck… It’s active?”
“Yes,” Alec whispers, his face still white as a sheet.
The angel dashes toward me and extends his fingers to the snare around my neck. “They’re probably tracking us with it. How long has it been orange like that? We have to get if off.”
Alec grips his arm, stopping the angel just as he’s about to poke at the collar. “Ten minutes at most. I tried to tear it off again, but it only angered whatever spell it contains. The more I touch it—or her—the more it burns.”
The angel pouts like he swallowed a mouthful of ashes. “A fidelity collar?”
Alec gives a sharp nod. “I think so. Can you break it?”
Keenan squints at the chained necklace, his thick brows furrowed. “Nae. This isn’t a rookie enchantment, and I’m no warlock.” He tilts his head to the side, his eyes lost in contemplation for a moment. “But I know someone that might be able to help.”
“Might?” Alec barks darkly, his patience running thin.
“Let me think on it for a minute.” Keenan holds one hand in front of him, signalling for us to wait. “First things first, we have to take off before they track us here.” He walks to the other side of the car, cradles Leo’s body in his arms, and ushers us into the plane.
The private jet has two seats out front for the pilot and co-pilot and three rows of two spacious seats in the back. It’s half the size of the one we travelled to Brazil with, but it’ll do nicely.
Keenan deposits Leo in a front row seat and secures his seatbelt. The smallclickresonates across the hull before he meets my inquisitive gaze. “Yes. I think my witch friend would help us with this, but witches are skittish, and her demon is ten times worse.” Without another word of explanation, he heads directly for the cockpit, bending down not to bump his head on the cockpit’s door frame.
I sit in the seat across the aisle from Leo and grip the armrests. The pain in my neck has sparked a humongous headache between my eyes, and my frustration at not being able to speak makes the situation ten times worse. A witch… I swallow hard at the thought. I’ve never even met one aside from the handful of warlocks that have been working for my family for generations, and they’re not allowed to socialize with us, or us with them.
Witches and demons… don’t mix.
Alec seals the airplane door. “You know a witch powerful enough to undo this? How?”
