Water and Ghosts

Chapter 15

Cyra.

She’s actually right there.

My brain just… shuts down. After all these months of wanting to fight her, she's here. Right after I lost my best weapon to challenge her. And I left Terrorshock on the table.

Since I know she’s Glenden’s mom, I automatically look for similar features, but I find none. They look absolutely nothing alike. They may have the same determination in their eyes, but Glenden’s comes from pain and curiosity. Cyra’s is all cold delight.

She has platinum blond hair that is longer than I have ever seen anyone have. It rains all the way down her back. Her hazel eyes are cruel, full of fire. She’s short and pale, skinny as if she hardly ever eats. 

I can’t imagine her eating.

I eye the fire circle surrounding me. It’s controlled by her, and I want to see the second it starts moving. For the time being, however, it remains in place.

“You look so much like your parents,” she muses, anger showing in her tone. Her eyes and her voice are intense, just like her flames. “Mommy’s hair and Daddy’s eyes.”

I look at her sharply. “Noticed before you killed them, eh?”

“Please. They were the eyes of my used-to-be best friend and would-be-husband.”

I laugh at her words, and the flame becomes hotter as I anger her. But her words can’t be true. They just can’t.

I won’t believe it.

Panic starts to bleed into my mind. Is Cyra telling the truth? Is it even possible? Could my parents have been friends with this lady? Did my father almost marry her?

What secrets did my parents take to their graves?

“Don’t believe me, do you?” Cyra says, taunting me. “Let me tell you the story.”

I don’t want to hear the story, I wish I could snap at her. Even if I could, I would sound weak. My voice would be panicked and high and afraid. However, she is the one who controls the flames, so I stay silent.

“You see, Ara and I grew up together. In this very town, actually. I was the angry fire Elemental, and she was the calm water Elemental. Everyone preferred her to me; she was kinder on the outside. You had to earn my kindness. We met in school, did all of our homework together. We had pretty much all of the same classes for years. You’re father,” she snears, “was also a part of our group. In high school, everyone wanted Ara. But Zayne had wanted me… in the beginning. We were going to get married— I still remember it. Ara helped me pick out the dress. She was my only bridesmaid, my maid of honor. Zayne was going to have Ara’s boyfriend be his only groomsman. We were going to get married on June sixteenth. It was the day of the wedding—”

I almost throw up.

“— and he was a no-show,” Cyra growls, pain and hurt showing through only slightly. Mostly, her voice is filled with rage. “So was my maid of honor.”

Mom and dad eloped I realize. They left Cyra on her wedding day and eloped and…

Had me.

I do not want to know any of this. I don’t want to know my parents’ past, I don’t want to know how I came into the world. It’s disgusting. And I don’t want to know that my dad first loved my mom’s best friend— his own killer.

“I figured they had run away together,” Cyra continues, controlling her voice and expression. She almost seems thoughtful.

Almost. 

“So I spent all of my resources tracking them down. It took me years, but I finally got Ara. And who did I find with them but you, another Elemental. A beautiful little girl they had together. The girl that should have been mine,” she growls, the anger pouring out. “Mine and Zayne’s— a fire Elemental rather than a water one. Maybe with red hair.” She grins bitterly at the joke.

Yup; definitely going to throw up. 

“I finally got to Zayne a couple months ago, but you know that. I would have killed you too, but Ara’s stupid spells were too powerful. She always was the genius.” Cyra sounds disgusted.

I am too.

“But now I have you in my clutches,” she says, smiling and coming back to the present. “All thanks to Nigel here.” She glances away from me, her gaze sliding to Nigel but freezing right in between us.

I swivel around in time to see a black, old looking car zooming straight towards me. Fear shoots up my spine and roots me in place. 

I’m going to die.

But then the car swivels, the wheels squealing in protest as the car turns. The passenger door is right in front of me, open already.

Glenden, sitting in the front seat and looking perfect, growls, “get in!”

He looks downright murderous.

I jump through the fire, wincing at the heat and the blisters forming, and climb into the car. I slam the door, and Glenden slams on the gas. I can hear Cyra screaming in frustration behind me.

“Thanks,” I gasp out. 

“Mention it when I can yell at you and then hug you for not being dead,” he says, his voice hard, not looking away from our destination— Harbor Village. I recall Grandma Colette saying that it is protected, and I curse myself for ever leaving.

“How did you know I needed you?” I ask, trying to get my breathing under control.

“How else? I was going to your house to give you your Christmas gift and I heard you scream. I’m very attuned to your voice, Aqua Evans.” He glances at me then, and I look away. This is no time to be distracted by a guy.

A guy who looks amazing. I’m honestly shocked. I study him as he speeds back to the town— his hair is perfectly in place, his t-shirt and jeans pressed with not a speck of dirt on them. His eyes are determined and filled with rage.

At Cyra. For nearly killing me.

A swell of emotion erupts, and it’s not fear or hate. For once. No, it’s the kind of emotion that makes me feel cared for; the kind that makes me suppress a satisfied sigh.

And then a wall of fire erupts in front of us.