Chapter 14 Timothy
TIMOTHY
Fremont Street hit me like a physical force.
Neon glared overhead in streaks of blue and red while bodies pressed shoulder to shoulder, the crowd electric with anticipation.
Flames burst from the parkour rig in the center of the street, throwing heat across the pavement and turning the course into a living hazard.
The perfect arena for a reckless god to flaunt his power.
And I had come here to stop him.
I moved through the crowd with purpose, Miranda and Assirak at my heels.
After this morning, after admitting I had been hiding behind rules instead of using the authority I actually possessed, something sharp and decisive had settled inside me.
I was done watching Seth endanger Aaron.
I was done pretending restraint equaled wisdom. Today, I would act.
In the center of it all, an elaborate parkour course was set up, adorned with flaming hoops and fiery obstacles that flickered dangerously, creating an enticing blend of danger and allure.
Before I could reach Seth on his makeshift throne, the crowd erupted as Aaron stepped onto the starting platform. Fire washed over him in waves of reflected gold and copper. His sleek black helmet and outfit clung to him as he rolled his shoulders and crouched to launch.
Even from this far away I could see the vampiric glow of Aaron’s hardened soul.
“W-what is he doing?” Panic closed off my throat.
“Vampires don’t do fire,” Miranda confirmed, tension in her voice matching my fears.
The audience roared as he launched into action, effortlessly leaping over flames and vaulting through hoops, each move more daring than the last.
“We have to stop this,” I said, pushing my way through the crowd to get to Seth.
His bodyguard crossed his arms in front of me. Power flashed so hot off my eyes I saw the blue cast on his face.
“Move,” I said firmly.
“It’s alright, Jocko,” Seth’s voice filtered down.
If Seth hadn’t called off his dog, I would have gone through him.
“What do you think you are doing?” I demanded. Panic, a wild pack of rabbits jumped every which way in my chest, making it hard to think.
He lifted an eyebrow, looking down at his martini before meeting my gaze again. “Having a drink?” He said the words as if I were a stupid child.
I grabbed the glass and smashed it on the ground. Seth only passively looked down at the ruined drink.
“Vampires can’t withstand fire. You are going to get him killed.”
The energy peaked as Aaron approached another challenge. He jumped on a motorcycle then revved it up, preparing to jump a massive pit of raging fire. My throat closed off even tighter.
“And what does that matter?” Seth said with a shrug, waving his hand and materializing another martini from thin air. “He’s mine to use as I see fit.”
“You son of a bitch,” Miranda growled from behind me.
“He’s not some expendable toy for your amusement.”
Seth sat up this time, baring his teeth at me. “That’s exactly what he is, and there isn’t anything you can do about it.” His eyes glowed with bright, hot hate and satisfaction.
Power whipped about in my chest with a fury I’d never felt before. It snapped inside, begging to be let out, to be unleashed on the smug bastard who thought he had me.
A collective scream pierced the air. I twisted around.
“Oh my God,” Miranda breathed even as I struggled to absorb what I saw.
Aaron miscalculated his jump, and the audience knew what would happen.
Panic clawed at my insides, hot and suffocating, as I struggled to break through the veil of inaction.
Aaron’s body hung suspended against the night sky for one perfect, terrible second. Then physics reclaimed him. He dropped short. Flames engulfed him in a violent burst as he hit the pit.
“No,” I whispered, the word barely making it past my lips.
“Aaron!” Miranda cried out, while every part of me froze in silent screaming horror.
Each second stretched painfully as I fought to absorb the horror unfolding before me. The overwhelming urge to move, to save him, collided with the crushing weight of helplessness. I couldn’t blink, couldn’t turn away as the flames consumed Aaron, a guttural scream caught in my throat.
No vampire could have survived that burst of fire.
Aaron turned to ash before my eyes, and with him so did every part of me that mattered.
Screams wailed as the flames erupted higher, illuminating the night with a menacing glow, consuming the figure within moments.
He was gone. Aaron. He was dead.
I couldn’t think. I couldn’t feel.
It was my nightmare, and I couldn’t register what just happened.
I’d stayed away to keep him safe.
No, I stayed away so it wouldn’t hurt. So I could survive this very thing.
Then it was like a bomb detonated in my chest, ripping me open. I slowly looked down, expecting to see a blown-out cavity where my ribcage was.
After all that, I lost him anyway and the devastation...
The roar of the crowd faded until I heard nothing. My vision blurred, the world around me dimming as every part of my internal being ripped itself apart in screaming agony.
It didn’t matter. It never mattered. No matter how I tried to keep myself safe, how I tried to stay away, I was still here, and Aaron wasn’t, and it hurt as if we’d spent millennia together. But we didn’t. I wasted time. I wasted all my moments with him.
I hurt him to keep him away to prevent this and it never mattered.
A new rush of murmurs rolled over the crowd, an incoherent buzzing to my dulled senses. Only when Miranda grabbed my arm did I bring myself to look up again.
Just when it seemed the horror could not deepen, a helmeted figure emerged from the smoke.
Confusion twisted a knife to my internal chaos.
Was it his soul walking from the fire, ready to cross the afterlife? No, when vampire souls crystallize, they cannot move on from their vessel. My eyes couldn’t comprehend what they were seeing. I forced my lids to blink to clear my vision, but he was still there.
“It’s him, oh my God, he survived.”
“Can vampires do that? I thought they couldn’t survive fire?”
They can’t. There was absolutely no way Aaron survived that conflagration…
The helmet came off with a cascade of sun-bleached waves, revealing Aaron's familiar face to the astonished crowd.
The cheers erupted in wild, unrestrained screams as Aaron waved.
“What?” Miranda said next to me. “How?”
My mind calculated faster than the speed of light, putting tiny details together. Something was different about Aaron’s glow when he started the stunt, the way his face was now etched with tension and paled despite his smile as he let the crowd witness his death-defying feat.
People reached out, desperate for just a touch, a brush of Aaron’s hand, and he obliged as he walked by, headed toward us on Seth’s dais.
I was caught in the icy grip of truth. It hadn’t been him doing those stunts. Whoever had caught fire like that was gone.