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Chapter4

Ember

Warmth on my face has me easing my eyes open. I raise a hand and shield my face from the bright sun as I force myself to sit up. My stomach muscles ache as I move, sore and probably torn from all the vomiting I did last night.

Birds chirp around me, their happy, sweet songs filling me with confusion.

Where am I?

I try to get my bearings, to stand, but I’m met with weak legs, and I fall back to the ground. Ground that is made of plush grass and brightly colored flowers dotting the meadow I find myself sitting in.

“Well, this is new,” I say aloud.

I’ve passed out in quite a few different places. But managing to stumble into a meadow and then pass out? Definitely a new development. I touch a hand to my aching head. Still, there are worse places to wake up.

A gutter being one of them—and I’ve been there, done that.

Surprisingly, though, my body doesn’t feel as battered as it typically does after an attack. Normally, it’s not just my abdominal muscles screaming in protest with each movement. And shouldn’t I be throwing up again already? How long have I been passed out?

Taking a deep breath, I force myself to stand, stumbling over toward a tree to use it as a temporary crutch as I look for the path that will take me back to my hotel. I’ll shower, sleep for two days, then hopefully get this final vacation back on track.

“Hello?” I call out, not seeing a path anywhere. And I meananywhere. The entire meadow is surrounded by thick trees and brush with no break in between. My heart flutters, and panic surges through me as I realize I have literally no clue where I am.

This is not Dublin City Centre, that’s for damn sure. I may not know much about the country, but I did have a lot of time on the plane, and it was one of the places I cyberstalked before arriving. So if I’m not there, then how did I get here?

Shutting my eyes tightly, I try to focus on the last thing I remember.

A gazebo.

A bright light.

A voice.

My eyes snap open, and the scene I’m greeted with is a much different one than moments ago when I closed them. A thick, heavy fog inches toward me as clouds overhead block out the sun. I back up, pressing my back all the way against the tree as I scan the space for the gazebo.

A structure, I now see, is nowhere in sight.

“Hello?” Fresh fear pulsates through me now. “Hello?”

Get yourself together, Ember.Not wanting to close my eyes again, seeing as how the last time brought me to where I am now, I focus instead on the heavy fog pouring over the grass like controlled liquid. I take deep, steady breaths, focusing on what I can change right now.

Which is pretty much nothing, so that’s a fantastic realization.

Lightning splits the sky, the bolt slamming into the ground a few yards away from me. I scream and force my way back, farther into the trees, now using my temporary crutch as a shield. The ground is scorched, the grass boasting a blackened circle now.

Thunder booms, and I jump just as a man roars overhead. Metal clashes, and someone grunts. A body slams into the ground, and I cover my mouth with a shaking hand, trying not to scream at the bloodied, broken corpse. Wide eyes stare directly at me; there’s no life left in them.

Another battle cry and I try to move backward into the trees. Vines woven together behind me make it impossible though. I grip them and try to rip, to tear my way through the foliage, but it’s useless; the things might as well be ropes for as pliable as they are.

Something slams into the ground behind me again. I don’t want to turn around, don’t want to see another broken body—but I also don’t want to be caught off guard, so I turn, slowly, and have to cover my hand as I cry out.

A man stands in the clearing, hovering over another who glares up at him.

“You miserable bastard,” the man on the ground sputters, spraying blood over the white armor of his attacker.

“You chose the wrong side, Paulson.” He raises a leg and brings it down—slowly—onto the throat of the other man.

The man he called Paulson grips his ankle with both hands and tries—unsuccessfully—to shove him back. “You. Have. That. Backward.”

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