Through the Fire (Daughter of Fire, #1)(34)
Throughout the freezing night, I shivered against the cold and wet, sleeping for no more than a few minutes at a time. By the time dawn came, I was practically frozen in place. There was no way that I could pick myself up and start walking again; I barely had enough strength in me to even lift my head. Thinking about the peace I might have if I succumbed to the environment and never moved again, I closed my eyes and let my body sink closer to the ground.
With my eyes closed, I drifted in and out of consciousness, only aware of a light hum of activity from the streets. At one stage, I was with Clay again in my dreams—we were back in the warehouse and sharing sweet kisses once more. Almost the instant our lips touched, I was stripped bare and laid out on display for him as his voice, which had mingled with another more recent one, shouted at me. “You’re a fucking freak! How could you just pretend that you’re normal?”
Bile burned my throat as an empty stomach heaved in its attempt to purge a meal that had never entered my body. Twisting my neck so that my face was pressed against the ground, my body continued to convulse violently even as the concrete wore a wound into the skin of my forehead. Exhausted from my nightmares and lack of sustenance, I wanted nothing more than to lie still and wait for my inevitable death. My acceptance of my own end was interrupted by a voice that whispered deep into my very soul.
It promised a different form of solace if I would just choose to drag myself away from my dank hiding spot. I needed only stand and, placing one foot in front of the other, lead myself back into life. Despite all the evidence against a meaningful and fulfilled existence, it made every effort to convince me that I would one day be happy.
Hope is coming, and with it, a new peace. You’ve just got to keep moving. Just keep yourself alive.
It was a voice I recognized as the sunbird’s, unwilling to give up despite my own reluctance to be forced to endure seeing another day through to the end just to wake and begin again in misery.
Eventually, I was able to pull myself back up into a sitting position, and as I did, I found that I was no longer alone in the alley. Crouching down and assessing me, with curiosity etched into every inch of his youthful face, was a strange but oddly beautiful man. The way he looked at me like he could see right to the depths of my soul, made me uncomfortable. I tugged my thin coat tighter around my body. My next reaction was to turn away from the intensity of his gaze, but I was compelled to look back at him again. The sunbird recognized something in him that I didn’t understand.
For a moment, I stared at him. I took my time to examine his features. As I did, I tried to set my chin proudly. Only the dirt and filth caked on me caused me to shrink back into myself a little.
As I watched him, I couldn’t place what was unusual about the way in which he considered me. It was as if something was missing in his gaze compared to the way everyone else had looked at me lately. It took me a moment to figure out what it was.
Pity.
Disgust.
There wasn’t a trace of either in his vivid blue eyes. In fact, one corner of his mouth lifted into a wry smile. A scar cut through his left eyebrow, giving him a heightened air of curiosity. He tilted his head to the side, and his dark hair fell across his face, ending just low enough to caress his impossibly high and sharp cheekbones.
Appearing satisfied with his appraisal, he brushed his hair back from his face, stood and offered me his hand. I stared at the outstretched limb for a moment, uncertain of what he could possibly want with me. Deciding to ignore the offered help, I held my jacket tight around my body and, with great effort, pushed myself to my feet. I stumbled slightly, leaning against the wall for support as everything came back into focus. Knowing there was nothing good that could come from being alone with a man in an alleyway, I turned my back on the stranger, who for some inexplicable reason seemed overly interested in me. I stumbled away on my wobbling legs, which threatened to fail with each new step, in an attempt to put some distance between us.
Almost instantly, he was by my side, matching me stride for stride.
“I’m Aiden,” he said.
I nodded vaguely and tried to walk faster, against the will of my protesting body.
“I can help you,” he said as he sped slightly to match my pace.
As soon as the words had left his mouth, it became clear what he was looking for. Folding my shoulders forward, I hoped I could collapse in on myself and not have to have this conversation. There was only one way it would go: he would offer his aid in exchange for services.
I’d received the offer before and had refused it each and every time.
Maybe I was lonely and even willing to die, but I wasn’t so far gone that I’d willingly prostitute my body and soul to the highest bidder. Even if they did look like someone who’d walked out of the pages of a catalog. I wasn’t willing to let anyone near me again after what I’d been through with Brian.
He stepped in front of me, blocking my path to the road and to safety. I tried to heat my skin and prepare to fight him off, but I barely had enough energy to remain standing let alone generate fire.
“I have no ill intentions. Please, I want to help you,” he said softly.
Resigning myself to the fact that I would have to speak to him if I wanted to get away, I asked, “Why?”
“Because that’s what we do. I have a family who can help you.”
With great effort, I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. A nutjob was one thing; a nutjob who thought he was saving the world was another matter entirely.