Bound by Fire

by Tracey Jane Jackson

  Bound by Fire

  Title Page

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Tracey Jane Jackson

  Bound by Fire, Cauld Ane Series #2

  Published by Tracey Jane Jackson at Smashwords

  Copyright ©2013 – Tracey Jane Jackson

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Names, characters, and events depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, places, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.

  Sunset Cover Photo

  Brocken Inaglory

  (Wiki Commons – License: CC-BY-SA 3)

  Cover Art

  Jackson Jackson

  Cover Models

  Aly Thompson

  Caleb Kauffman

  For Yum Yum

  You are the man all my heroes aspire to be.

  I love you!

  CHAPTER ONE

  Six Weeks Ago

  PEPPER BROOKS STOOD frozen to the floor of the diner, and not because there was probably some kind of syrup still there from the day before. A cassette tape had been hidden under the poor excuse for a tip, and she wracked her brain in an attempt to figure out how…more importantly, who.

  The table had been filled with teenagers obviously out past their curfew, but she couldn’t imagine them putting the tape under the money. The last time she’d seen a cassette tape was a hundred years ago. So how did it get there? She picked it up and saw that it was the single of “Every Breath You Take.”

  Last week a movie poster for Fatal Attraction had been slipped under the wiper blade of her car, and the week before that a forty-five of “My Obsession” had been mailed to her here at the diner.

  She didn’t need this! She already had more than enough on her mind and could feel the rapid approach of a nasty headache. Her friend, Samantha Moore, was moving to Scotland and Pepper was already missing her. When Pepper moved from California to Savannah in second grade, she and Samantha became best buds and had been inseparable ever since. There hadn’t been a day they hadn’t talked or seen each other, usually both, and Pepper didn’t know what she was going to do without her “sister” close.

  “Pepper! Order up,” Hank yelled.

  Pepper jumped and shoved the money and the tape in her apron. “Coming.”

  Her boss was in a mood tonight…had been all day.

  She made her way to the window and spent the next two hours so rushed off her feet, she forgot all about the cassette.

  * * *

  Pepper’s phone rang for the fourth time in fifteen minutes. She frowned and ignored it—again. The number was restricted, so she never answered, and they never left a message. But now they were beginning to piss her off. The calls had started the day after the cassette tape had been delivered. The person called three times a day, then four…now it was escalating.

  “Pepper!” Hank snapped. “Where the hell is your head, girl?”

  Pepper glanced at him through the food window and shook her head. “Sorry, Hank.”

  He muttered something under his breath and pushed a plate through the window. Pepper picked up her order and set it in front of her customers, forcing a smile and counting the minutes to the end of her shift.

  * * *

  Five Weeks ago

  Pepper was late. She’d promised Sam she’d help her pack for her trip, but work was crazy. She pulled into the driveway of the Moore house and set the brake. Her car was about ready to die, and she prayed it would last long enough to put her plan into motion.

  She found the door unlocked and let herself in. Sam’s parents rarely locked the house, a habit that made Pepper uncomfortable.

  Stepping into the foyer, she called up the stairs. “Sammi!”

  “Up here.” Samantha peeked over the hallway railing. “You look like you’re dressed for World War Two.”

  “You like?” Pepper rested a hand on her hip and chuckled. “It’s laundry day.” She’d pulled her hair into a messy bun and wrapped a bandana around her head, forties style. To top it off, the only thing she had clean was an old pair of overalls and a T-shirt.

  “Very cute.”

  Sam’s mother leaned over the railing as well. “Come on up, honey, and I’ll check on dinner. Will you join us?”

  “Yes, please! Thanks, Mrs. Moore.” Pepper waved her letter in the air as she jogged up the stairs, two at a time. “You’re never going to guess what’s happened!”

  Sam laughed. “You won the lottery and are going to join me in Scotland.”

  Pepper bobbed her head. “Yes.”

  Sam snorted as she made her way back into the bedroom. “You’re funny.”

  “No, seriously. Not the lottery, but I got into MGA.”

  “What?”

  Pepper handed her the notice. “I auditioned for MGA. In Edinburgh. They accepted me. I’ve committed to their one-year advanced course.”

  “MGA?” Sam skimmed the letter. “Performing arts? Seriously? Pepper, this is a lot of money. How are you going to pay for this?”

  “I have almost eight thousand saved.”

  “To train Jonesy for the trials!”

  Pepper waved her hand dismissively. “Trials, shmials.”

  “I thought winning the Olympics was the most important thing in your life. Or at the very least, getting away from your mother while you’re training him. He’s the reason you haven’t dated or done anything outside of school or work for three years.”

  “Priorities change, I guess.” Pepper smiled. “And, technically, I will be getting away from her…all the way across the ocean.”

  “What about Jonesy? You were essentially the midwife to his mother. You’ve raised that horse since birth.”

  Pepper faltered. She’d need to figure that out. But she would. “It’s just a year. I’ll have no problem finding a nice young girl to look after him for me.” She swallowed hard as she thought about her rescue dog. “And Mom can look after Rover.”

  “Pepper.” Sam handed back the letter. “What’s really going on? You’ve always said that acting and singing was for fun and would never take priority over becoming a vet. I’m still not clear on how you’d be able to finish veterinary school and train for the Olympics at the same time…but then, you’re the dreamer.”

  “You make that sound like it’s a bad thing.”

&nb
sp; Sam shook her head. “Not at all. I envy it and you know it. Spill.”

  “I can’t just want to join my best friend for an adventure in a land full of sexy men?”

  Sam smirked. “You assume all Scottish men look like Ewan MacGregor.”

  “And you assume they all look like Gobber the Belch.”

  Sam giggled. “Is it weird we went to see How to Train your Dragon and we don’t even have kids?”

  “No, because we took Chelsea’s kid as a cover…she got a free afternoon, and Chase got to see a movie with his favorite spice.”

  “Okay, you have me there, but still, what’s really going on?”

  “Nothing. Really. My mom’s just driving me crazy.”

  “You’ve been home less than a month,” Sam pointed out.

  Once Sam moved out of their rental, Pepper did too. She hated living alone and couldn’t really afford it, so she’d moved back in with her mother out of desperation.

  “I know,” Pepper admitted. “At least she passes out drunk more nights than most, but still, I probably should have stayed at our place.”

  “Sorry.”

  “I’m the one who can’t stand the thought of living alone. It’s not your fault. But I do need to make a change.”

  Sam sighed. “Yeah, you should get out of there, but don’t you think this is a bit drastic?”

  “Nope, not at all. I just want to go somewhere where there’s no drama.”

  Sam laughed. “So you’re going to drama school.”

  Pepper had to give her that. Her friend was entirely too logical sometimes. “How about we halt this fascinating conversation and I’ll help you finish packing?”

  “Okay, okay. You’re off the hook for now. Just give me some notice before you arrive. I’m assuming I’ll have to find a two bedroom place to rent, huh?”

  “I’ll take the couch,” Pepper said. “I’m not picky.”

  Sam choked in response. “Says the woman with champagne taste on a beer budget.”

  “Oh, I at least have enough to spring for the sparkling wine.”

  * * *

  Four Weeks Ago

  “Bye, Hank,” Pepper called as she closed her locker, grabbed her purse, and started toward the door. “See you tomorrow.”

  “Don’t be late, girl.”

  “I won’t,” she said…but she probably would be. She hadn’t slept through the night in almost a week. The barrage of mysterious calls, combined with her mother’s drunken middle-of-the-night tirades, made it impossible.

  She headed toward her car, keys at the ready, and unlocked the door. As was her habit—after watching yet another horror flick alone—she checked the backseat and then jumped inside and locked the door. She hadn’t received anything from her secret admirer in three days, and instead of that making her feel better, she was more nervous than ever.

  Her phone rang. She picked it up and saw Dalton Moore’s name on her screen. She almost ignored it. Almost.

  “Hi, Dalt.”

  “Hey. I can’t believe you answered the phone.”

  “Me neither,” she grumbled.

  “Is there anything I can do to make you forgive me?”

  Dalton Moore was Samantha’s brother and the man Pepper had sworn never to speak to again. He was a playboy of the worst degree but in a moment of weakness, he’d convinced her to give him a chance and they went out on a series of dates. Just as she’d started to give him a piece of her heart, she’d walked in on him “enjoying” his receptionist…on the desk in his office.

  The worst part of it was she couldn’t tell Sam. Her best friend never even knew they’d dated, and now she couldn’t share her heartbreak with the one person she had always told everything to.

  Pepper sighed. “I’m not mad anymore, Dalt.”

  “I wish I could explain.”

  “I’m sure you do. But you said you can’t, so let’s just leave it, okay? I’m heading home, so I need to hang up.”

  “Can we have lunch next week?”

  “Maybe.” She turned the ignition. “I gotta go. ’Bye.” She hung up and rubbed her forehead. Lord, she was tired. Her phone rang again and she answered it. “Dalton, seriously, we’ll talk next week.”

  A hiss came over the line and then, “It’s not Dalton.”

  Pepper went very still. She swallowed. “Um, sorry, I think you might have the wrong number.”

  “I don’t have the wrong number,” the low voice came.

  She didn’t recognize the man’s voice…she could only tell he was southern because of his thick accent.

  “I’m a little disappointed in you, you know,” he droned.

  “Excuse me?” she snapped.

  “I sent you several gifts and you threw all but the cassette tape away.”

  She’d forgotten about the cassette.

  Crap, it must be in my other apron. How did he know?

  “I don’t know who you are, but you must have the wrong number—”

  “I don’t have the wrong number, Pepper. Don’t hang up.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because if you do, bad things are going to happen.”

  “Oooh, I’m scared.” She snorted. “Listen, weirdo, I don’t know who you are, but you need to quit harassing me. If you don’t, I’ll call the authorities. I know people.”

  She didn’t really, but it sounded good.

  He laughed. “Like your friend, Dalton Moore? He’s not a real man…not like me.”

  He knows Dalton? WHAT?

  “And if you even think about talking to Samantha Moore, I will kill her,” he continued.

  “I’m hanging up now.”

  She did and shook her head. The guy was obviously a kook who had too much time on his hands. She couldn’t believe he’d actually got in her head. Tonight, she planned to have a glass or two of red wine and sleep like a baby.

  * * *

  Pepper stood in Jonesy’s stall and ran the brush over her beloved Arabian’s neck. “Who’s my good boy? Hmm?” Jonesy nudged her with his nose and she giggled. “Okay, okay. You did really well today. You deserve a peppermint.” She dug in her pocket and pulled out the treat. Jonesy took it gently from her palm, nodded his head, and took his time with his favorite candy.

  “It’s time for you to go to sleep and me to go home.”

  Jonesy let out a quiet whinny. Pepper called it his “growl.” He did it whenever she said or did something he didn’t like—at least, that’s what she told everyone. She was convinced he knew what she was saying. Her phone pealed in the quiet and she squeezed her eyes shut, hoping it wasn’t her “friend.” It was Sam.

  “Sammi?”

  “Thank God,” Sam said.

  Pepper’s heart started to race. “What’s wrong?”

  “Pepper, I’m in trouble.”

  “Why, what happened?” she squeaked.

  “I think I might be falling in lust.”

  Pepper started laughing and nearly dropped the phone.

  “Pepper?”

  Pepper patted Jonesy’s nose and stepped out of his stall. “You totally freaked me out! I thought you were really in trouble!”

  “I’m sorry. I just don’t know what to do. I’ve never ever felt this way before.”

  “I know you haven’t.” Pepper laughed again. “Who are you lusting over?”

  “My boss!”

  “Not the hottie on the plane?”

  Sam had told her about Cole something or other, the cute guy she’d sat next to on the plane and Pepper had secretly hoped she’d have as much luck as her friend did when it was her turn to leave.

  “Who? Oh, no. He’s cute, but nothing compared to my boss. Pepper, he looks like he stepped off the cover of a romance novel and on top of that, he has this incredible voice. He’s Scottish, but there’s something else there. If Alexander Skarsgård and Craig Ferguson had a baby, he’d sound like him. And his name’s Kade, for freak’s sake. Kade! Did his parents do that to ensure every woman on the planet would want to procreate
with him?”

  “Long hair ala Brad Pitt in Legends?” Pepper asked, hopeful.

  “Think Keith Urban.”

  “Ooh…even better.” Pepper bit her lip. “Holy cow. I might need to push my flight up.”

  “I’m losing it, Pep. Seriously, I think this might have been a mistake,” Sam continued. “I think I should come home.”

  “Don’t you dare!” Pepper snapped. “You might be shy, Samantha Christene Moore, but you are no coward. Plus, this is your dream job.”

  Sam sighed. “I know, I know. I just don’t know what to do. You know my rule.”

  “No mixing business with pleasure, yeah, yeah,” Pepper droned. “Maybe throw that rule in the air and shoot the hell out of it.”

  “That’s not a good idea.”

  Pepper rolled her eyes as she leaned against the stall door. “How do you know? Take a chance for once, Sam. What’s the worst that could happen?”

  “I could lose my job.”

  “One you don’t actually need, right now anyway. You have money saved, so if you had to come home and look for another job, you could.”

  “True. I just don’t know if I feel that brave.”

  “Brave, schmave. Does this fall into the category of being hit by a bolt of lightning wrapped in a rainbow?”

  Sam giggled. “Oh, Pep. Yes. Really, you should have been an ad-man.”

  “Let me tell you what you’re going to do. You’re going to throw caution to the wind and embrace whatever comes your way. Especially, if it’s some hot Scottish guy.”

  “Pepper, he’s not interested in me,” Sam complained.

  “How do you know? He could be feeling the same thing you are.”

  “Ever the romantic, I see.”

  Jonesy peeked his head out of the stall and nudged her shoulder. Pepper grinned and stroked his nose. “Do me a favor.”

  “What?” Sam groaned.

  “Just go with it. If it’s meant to happen, then let it happen. Fall in love if you can.”

  “No! Falling in love with your boss is about as useful as a screen door on a submarine.”

  Pepper drawled in her best southern gal accent, “Well, shut mah mouth. I mean, even a blind squirrel bumps into an acorn now and then.”