Kiss of Fire (Imdalind, #1)(52)

I was the one making the noise.

It took me a moment to realize what else was leaving my body; the warmth. The warmth which reminded me so much of Ryland was leaving right behind the numbness. It sucked itself away from me, until I felt nothing but pain and loneliness. My mouth opened even further as my agonizing screams mixed with my tears. The pain, combined with the loss, created an emotional tidal wave that was too much for me to handle. I could feel my body begin to shut down.

My screams began to lessen as I let the endless nothingness that had stayed hidden off to the side of my consciousness cover me like a blanket. The blackness wasn’t as nice as the numbness I had felt, but it still took the edge off the pain. It seemed to tell me to just give up, and I wanted to, so badly.

“My hand!” Ilyan practically yelled. “Focus on my hand!”

I forced my eyes back to his and tried to move my mind away from the comfortable blackness I had let take over and onto the hand I felt cupping my cheek. My screams decreased as I focused on him, finally coming out in panicked puffs.

A new warmth began to fill me; it radiated out from where Ilyan’s hand rested on my cheek and began to fill my entire body. Although it felt the same as the warmth I always felt from Ryland, something was different and drastically wrong. My mind and body began to fight against it.

“Don’t fight me, Joclyn,” Ilyan pleaded. “You have to let me in.”

I didn’t know what he was talking about; my heart seized in panic as my cloudy brain tried to grasp hold of understanding.

“Let me in,” he whispered.

Could he possibly mean that the warmth was him?

The warmth continued to spread throughout me, followed closely by the numbness I had only recently lost. I welcomed the numbing, glad that the pain was sweeping away into a loose memory. I kept my eyes on Ilyan as the pain faded; desperately wishing I could clutch myself to him and demand answers. I wished I could yell and fight, or simply disappear. Nothing in my body worked properly; nothing moved and no words came.

Ilyan moved his hand away from my legs and produced a cell phone, leaving my limp body to fall like a ribbon over his folded legs. He dialed a number and placed the phone to his ear, all the while his hand never left my cheek.

“Get me Ovailia.” There was a pause after he spoke as he waited for Ovailia to take the phone. When she did, his voice transferred into his native language. The words were full of consonants and deep sounds that rolled off his tongue and into the night air.

My mind wandered off at the sounds, my fuzzy brain not able to understand anything that was being said. It was easier to not focus on anything and instead let myself drift off into the nothingness. I wasn’t in pain now; it almost seemed like the blackness wanted me even more.

“Stay with me, Joclyn.” Ilyan’s voice broke off from his foreign chatter, the change in tongue bringing my mind back. “Focus on my hand. Focus on my voice.” He stared at me intently while waiting for me to agree.

“Ovailia,” he continued into his phone, “we will be returning home within the week. I need to get her body healed enough to travel.” He paused as the person on the other side of the line spoke. I felt my heart soar at the talk of healing me. A hospital and a shot of morphine sounded just about right.

“Tell Talon I will keep her safe.”

Talon? Wasn’t that Wyn’s boyfriend?

“No! Everyone needs to stay where they are. It is only going to cause problems if they empty the motel.”

“Ovailia,” Ilyan snapped, and his accent increased, making his voice difficult to understand. “I ‘ave levt zoo in sharge, ind iv zoo canoot keep zings usser constrol for vun veek vifout my prezzanse ve vill haff to reffink zis arrangement. Iz zat clear?”

He snapped the phone shut and huffed angrily. Even through his angry rant, his hand had still stayed softly on my cheek.

“You’re lucky you don’t have a sister,” he said, his accent lessened. I was confused. I thought Wyn was his sister; perhaps this Ovailia was their sister, too, and they just never mentioned her.

I felt an uncomfortable pain seize through my spine, and my body moved involuntarily.

“We have to move.” Ilyan stated, looking away from me in expectation. He flipped open his phone again and dialed a number.

“Wynifred?”

Wyn? My heart beat erratically at her name.

“We will be there in about an hour. We are in Sunnyvale.”

Sunnyvale? But that was at least a two hour drive. How did we get here?

“I took us here to break the trail, but we cannot stay here long. She is very greatly injured. I need you to draw a bath.”

A bath? Wasn’t he taking me to the hospital?

He snapped the phone shut and placed it back into his pocket.

“Joclyn? We are going to have to move. I know you probably really want to go to sleep right now, but you can’t. Try to focus, all right? Focus on me; focus on my voice. You need to stay awake, for Ryland.”

“Ryland?” My voice came out like a sob; in fact, I was surprised I had even spoken at all.

“Yes, Joclyn, for Ryland. You need to stay awake for him. Can you do that?”

I stared at him intently, hoping my expression would display the yes I felt in my heart.

“Good girl, Siln?.”

Ilyan shifted his weight and moved my rag doll form into his arms, his hand never once leaving my skin. He moved smoothly, his body rocking and jostling me around with each step he took. This sensation was so much different than before; I could feel every step, every time his foot hit the ground.