Imdalind 01 - Kiss of Fire

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    “Ryland, I need your help.” I was becoming desperate; he still didn’t respond to me. “Ryland! Please.”
    “Do you want to go steal the car, Jos?” his voice slurring as it faded away, his eyes gently closing.
    “Ryland, no, no. Ryland!” He didn’t move; he didn’t react; he just lay there. The prospect of losing him clicked something together in my brain. I was instantly consumed with panic-stricken desperation. I called his name over and over as I pushed him, prodded him and even slapped him across the face. He didn’t react to any of it. My movements became more desperate as the seconds clicked by in my mind.
    I could hear the yells and screams of the fight that surrounded us, feel the rattle of the building as it was rent with explosion after explosion. I stopped hitting him, stopped screaming at him; I just sat there - staring at him.
    He could have been sleeping. The way his hair fell across his face, the way his arms lay lifelessly at his side. I watched him, expecting him to grumble something in his sleep and roll over the way he always did; my heart almost willed it to happen. I traced the dark purple circles of his bruise; let my fingertips run the length of the healing scar across his face. He was in pain.
    My voice howled in agony as I fell into him, my arms wrapping around him. My magic rushed into him, glad to be home. I felt it swirling within him, mingling with the flaring embers he had kept hidden inside himself. I cried into his chest, feeling the connection grow within our bodies. His arms reached around me, his strong arms clenching me against him.
    “Ryland?” I pulled myself away from him, my magic pulling back into me as I moved. I looked up into his face expectantly; my hope shattered at the black eyes smiling back.
    “You are exquisite, aren’t you? No wonder this body seems to want you so badly.”
    My heart screamed inside my chest at the deep voice that came out of him. I wrenched out of his arms and scurried away, my feet slipping against loose rocks that littered the slick marble floor.
    “What? Don’t you want this body, too? You seemed to be desperate to have it just a second ago.” His body uncoiled toward me dangerously, the shoulders squared and back straighter than Ryland ever held himself. He towered over me as I continued to slip in the rubble. The building rocked with another explosion and I lost my balance, landing on my stomach.
    Ryland reached down as I slid around in a desperate attempt to find my balance, and his large hand wrapped around my neck as he lifted me up. I was being choked by the pressure, my lungs unable to take in breath.
    “Hello, pretty girl,” he sneered as he brought me up to face him, the depths of his black eyes staring back at me acidly. I didn’t have time to react before he shot a flame against my abdomen. The powerful surge collided against my stomach, burning away the lower half of my shirt. The strength of the pulse shot me away from him, flinging me through the air to land hard on the marble floor twenty feet away, the impact sending a painful jolt rippling through me. I sighed as I rolled over onto my back, my body protesting the movement.
    I should be hurt; I felt a powerful warmth, smelt the burnt fabric, but there was no pain. I looked at my stomach in confusion. The bottom of my shirt had been destroyed; the skin below it was blackened like charcoal, but nothing more. I wiped away the black residue, surprised to see no wound. My stomach was intact, the skin pale and smooth beneath the ash.
    A white orb collided angrily against my chest, sliding my body across the floor with the impact. My attention was pulled from my stomach as Ryland’s new attack sent me slamming into the wall. I looked up just in time to see him land in front of me, another pulse already prepared to fling my way.
    I knew I should fight him, I knew I should attack him as he was attacking me, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I couldn’t bring my magic to me with enough strength to defend myself from the Trpaslík, let alone fight or injure Ryland. The thought of purposely harming him set my heart into a flutter of pain.
    I scuttled to the side, the attack shattering the wall behind me instead. Without thinking, I grabbed a table next to me and flung it at him. My heart sank as I watched it fly, terror gripping me at the impending impact. It had almost reached him before he swayed to the side, the table flying uselessly past.
    He