Slow Burn

by Sascha Illyvich

  Ever.

  She made her way to the door and tried the handle. Locked, of course.

  If she used more energy, it would wear her out, so she opted to pick the lock. She reached behind her head and found a hairpin.

  Sonja knelt before the door, slid the hairpin in, and began fumbling with the tumblers. After a few seconds, the lock clicked open.

  She set a hand on the frame and slowly pulled the wooden door open. Then she listened.

  No sound.

  Dingy yellow lights illuminated cracked paint on the walls in the hallway. She pulled the door open a little more and waited. Still no noise.

  She pulled the door open further and stepped into the hallway. The creaking of hardwood floors ripped through the silence—that noise would give her away.

  Sonja shrugged. Her heart began to thunder against her ribcage. Another presence in the air caressed her like a soft feather.

  Or fur.

  The hair on the back of her neck stood up.

  She listened again, waiting for the telltale signs of whatever approached this house. Her captors were human, but this…

  She swallowed hard. Sweat broke on her brow.

  Off in the distance, she heard the sound of a puma snarling.

  Derrick! It had to be him, and he’d brought others. Her pulse sped now. She stomped down the hallway toward what might be an exit. The noise would alert her captors, but she proceeded anyway. She had to get out fast, then disappear back to her home.

  The door opened and a soldier emerged with a rifle pointed at her. “Don’t move.”

  “Fuck that shit.” In a split second, Sonja gathered enough magic to let out a soothing howl that caused the man to fall forward. He hit the ground with a loud thud. He wasn’t dead, just knocked out.

  Quickly, she picked up his rifle and continued through the door.

  Another hallway opened into a main room with only a few pieces of furniture. Curtains were drawn shut over most of the windows. Large white wooden doors blocked the way to freedom and probably fresh air.

  Sonja spun around, aimed the gun into the hallway she’d just come from, and then backed into the doors. With her free hand, she twisted the handle, opened the door, and took off at a run into the night.

  Gunshots filled the air along with the sound of violent growling. The yell of another shifter nearby directed her away from the others.

  Unkempt bushes and hedges provided loose cover. A stone fountain in the center of the concrete patio with numerous cracks held only rainwater.

  Sonja pushed through the hedges and jumped over the short wall, crunching leaves when she landed.

  Kneeling, she looked around, aimed the gun at the house through the hedges, and fired off a few shots to draw attention away from her potential rescuers.

  When sparks flew, she knew she’d hit her target. The spicy smell of wood burning drifted in the air, wafting up as the wood around whatever outlet she’d hit caught fire. In a few moments, the house would be burned to the ground.

  No trace of her having ever been kidnapped, captured, or held here would remain, thanks to the cleansing power of fire.

  Shots were fired and bullets punctured the wood near her head, sending splinters and dust everywhere.

  “Shit.” She moved off to one side, brushed back the trench coat, remembering it wasn’t technically hers.

  A small smile turned her lips upward.

  She supposed she could buy Derrick another one.

  Crouching low, she looked around, taking care to keep close to the ground. Ahead of her lay vast land and tall grass. She could follow the dirt road just within running distance and make her escape, though Goddess only knew where she was.

  A large explosion shook the ground, sending glass, wood, and debris flying everywhere.

  Sonja dove for the ground and covered her head to avoid harm from the mess. She landed on the rifle and grunted when the butt of the gun struck her ribs.

  Gripping her side, she looked up to see a part of the house had exploded. She smelled at least one electrical fire starting in another part of the dilapidated building. Hopefully, her captors would get out. She grew sick at the thought that she’d taken lives—she remembered the one guard she’d knocked out and how his comrades would probably leave him to die. The sound of voices yelling over the chaos prompted Sonja to get a move on. Gun in hand, she ran along the fence, keeping close to it to avoid being seen.

  She spotted her captors and stopped.

  Heavy boots crunched gravel and dirt behind her. The click of a gun sounded loudly.

  She spun around to face the tall, nameless Russian. Sorrow filled his eyes. “We have been outnumbered by our attackers. You must die and not fall into their hands.”

  “No!” Derrick’s voice came from out of nowhere.

  In a split second, Sonja’s eyes widened and she saw the Russian’s finger squeeze the trigger. Her vision narrowed down to the bullet loading in the chamber and the tiny explosion from the firing pin, forcing the gun to jump and the man’s muscle memory to kick in and hold the aim steady.

  In the back of her mind, an angry puma cried. And the flash of light that went off disappeared just afterward.

  Something knocked her on her ass, forcing the breath out of her. She shook her head, opened her eyes, and saw Derrick. “Come on, let’s go.” He offered his hand.

  She took his hand and he pulled her to her feet. She blinked.

  Six others had surrounded her, some with blood on their faces, others with scratches and cuts. Tattered clothing hung from the frail bodies of her foreign captors. She realized in that split second that she was right. The one she’d knocked out was probably dead.

  Panic and fear surrounded her, stealing her ability to think rationally.

  Derrick dropped her hand and held his up in surrender. His eyes darted from man to man, making direct contact with all six of them. “We don’t have to do this.” He kept his voice calm. Neutral. That was a good sign.

  The auras of the men all said the same thing: terror.

  She picked up Derrick’s aura, too, felt true courage washing over the trepidation threatening to choke him. Oh, and the very protective instinct from the puma centered in her mind, easing some of her discomfort and dread.

  Guns trained on Derrick first. One guy started forward.

  Sonja searched his aura, probing deeper now. He was just a human, as were the rest of them. This wasn’t a fair fight. Derrick could tear them all to shreds, but he kept his cool. That definitely worked in their favor.

  Derrick’s gaze never left the man coming toward him.

  A fist caught Derrick in the gut.

  He waited a second, then started to double over.

  Sonja watched as another fist landed in Derrick’s stomach. Then the man brought his gun up to Derrick’s head.

  Another click of the piece sounded.

  Derrick looked into the guy’s eyes and smiled.

  Whatever he did made the man drop his gun instantly.

  The other men started speaking in Russian, their voices filled with panic.

  Over his shoulder, Derrick looked at Sonja, giving her a glimpse of the puma’s angry eyes.

  She swallowed, started to shake. “No, don’t!”

  It became even more difficult to breathe.

  Derrick started to change. In slow motion, his facial features broke down and reconstructed with fur, a shorter jaw, sharper teeth. His body lengthened as golden fur engulfed it.

  If he killed them, he’d have her blood on his hands along with that of her captors. It wasn’t right!

  Sonja sucked in a breath, forcing herself to react like a witch in dealing with this. Standing straight, she searched the air for a clean thread in all the confusion.

  Shifting would heal his wounds and put him on the offensive, but would that stop them from shooting her?

  She wiped sweat from her brow and realized in that instant, with all the power radiating from Derrick, the men didn’t stand a
chance. She couldn’t stop the puma, either.

  “Derrick you can’t do this!” He couldn’t be allowed to kill them. Not now. Not in front of her. They weren’t at fault. She was.

  “I can’t stop it. It’s too late.” The snarl of his voice frightened her even more.

  The men surrounding them backed up but kept their guns trained on Derrick. Each one cocked the hammer of his pistol while staring incredulously at the sight before them.

  Before she knew it, a puma stood before her. Its eyes glowed bright green and blue while its tail swished around. It looked at her with an intense stare before returning its attention to the surrounding men.

  Guns sounded as shells loaded into the chambers.

  The overwhelming dread from each of the men slammed into her with the force of a tsunami. She stumbled back, felt the barrel of another assault rifle digging into her back.

  She spun around with her hands up.

  Her vision blurred.

  Lives would be lost if she didn’t do something. Her mind raced, executing all the possible spells she could use to deflect things and aid the chaos into something better.

  She would die if she couldn’t fix this. More innocents would lose their lives if she couldn’t fix this. Her life would be over, too much pain and misery would weigh down on her and stop her from performing. Her life’s work would all be a waste because she couldn’t clean the blood from her soul.

  Or from Derrick’s, if he managed to make it out of this. She couldn’t stand the thought of Derrick suffering for her.

  She heard a scream but didn’t recognize where it came from. Power spilled from her and more screams joined the one she heard only seconds ago.

  Blood shot out from the bodies around her. The veil between reality and insanity started to blur, knocking her off balance.

  Absorbing all the excess emotion, all the extra terror, fear, and anger, Sonja’s power pierced the air, bringing with it a death so sweet to the now silenced screams.

  Then she fell to her knees on the ground, landing with a thud against soft fur and hard muscle.

  Chapter Four

  Derrick woke up in a soft bed. His body ached, his stomach burned, bruises marked his forehead, and he had a throbbing pain in his back. He brushed strands of hair from his face and tried not to grunt. Then he saw the beauty next to him and something tugged at his heart.

  Sonja lay beside him still wearing his trench coat, jeans, and a top that begged for removal because it held back beautiful breasts.

  He licked his lips. Then he smelled the dried blood and frowned. He looked down at himself and found he’d been bathed. At least mostly. His fingernails were still dirty. Sore, too.

  Then he stirred. And pain hit him, making him grunt.

  Sonja’s eyes shot open and her body jolted. She shook. The wild look on her face alerted Derrick that something was flashing in her mind. But what? What nightmares did she run from?

  The air smelled of torment, a different scent than fear. More black, more unsettling, the energy crackled with bright white pepper and that overwhelming sense of dread he recognized from his own energy when he woke up to see the faces of those innocents he’d been ordered to kill. Or his brother laying in a pool of his own blood while paramedics came to remove the injured and presumed dead. Derrick caught Sonja’s hand and rolled onto his side, facing her.

  “Shh.” He put his other arm around her, gripping her close before her shakes stopped. He pressed two fingers against her lips and felt the searing heat from the faint touch. He pressed a little harder, caressing plump lips.

  Tears streamed down her face.

  He wanted to kiss them away.

  She opened her mouth and screamed; power flowed out from her in a torrential force that clued him in to just how terrified the images were that she saw.

  Then he saw them, the faces of the sad, the lonely, the angry, those who had taken their lives. He’d seen a very brief glimpse of the men who captured her, then his head went fuzzy. Quickly stilling his mind, he leaned over her and did the one thing he could think of to distract her from whatever horrors raced through her head.

  He kissed her, muffling her cries.

  She sobbed but gave herself openly to the kiss. The power flowing from her lessened, calmness now settled around them. She still shook; her body convulsed in his arms while she flailed this way and that, turning from him with such force he had to use his puma strength to overpower her and force her back to the kiss.

  Somewhere in the haze of their mingling tongues, the air changed again, this time the scents of terror and agony faded to give way to something dark, yet sensual. Derrick tasted her, pressing against the sweet plumpness of her mouth against his. Eyes open, he gave her hand a light squeeze.

  She settled, blinked, and gazed at him through her wild eyes until her breathing slowed and she returned to the here and now. Sonja shifted against him. She reached for his face, lithe fingers stroked his chin.

  He hardened instantly at her touch. Careful to steady his reaction against rising hormones, Derrick moved, feeling the softness of her breasts beneath his jacket. “You’re still wearing my coat.” He licked her chin, then bit her neck.

  The tears stopped and she sniffled. Sonja laughed and kissed him back, taking his face in her hands while she slid beneath him. “It fits. Perfectly in fact. I think I’ll keep it.”

  He chuckled, a low sound that widened her eyes. He noted the change in behavior when he stilled his mind and focused on centering her, something he’d never really done before. Instantly, she smelled of arousal rather than the stingy, pungent scent of fear.

  “Definitely.” She nodded. “Definitely going to keep it.”

  She stole his concentration by wriggling her soft flesh against his; he could only process the perfectness of her arousal. He bent down, nipped her exposed neck, and waited a moment. Her pulse beat steadily. His puma wanted a taste of the creature beneath it.

  Hands fisted in his hair and dragged his head to hers, forcing his mouth against hers. She tasted more sweet and savory as the powerful thrum of lust sent blood pulsing through her. The puma knew it was time to mate again, and with this woman.

  Derrick smelled dark fruit, the scent of her arousal dancing over his senses. With a thumb and forefinger, he caressed a trail down the line of her jaw and over her neck until stopping at the top of exposed cleavage. Then he let his nail lengthen, a sound that made her gasp.

  Derrick dragged his nail back up her neck and down it again, dipping further between her breasts while watching her expression change from concern to aroused amusement.

  She shuddered, arched her breasts up.

  He nuzzled her, then dipped his head, flicking his tongue over her salty skin, tasting the spice and dark fruit on his tongue. Then he slid up her body, dove in for another kiss while his free hand traced circles on her cheek.

  She moaned her approval into the kiss, letting him control things at first. Then she pulled back, nipped his lower lip, tugged on it.

  The puma inside snarled playfully.

  Sonja kissed him again, letting him lead this time.

  Derrick took his time studying her mouth with his tongue, memorizing it. He wanted to let this happen forever, kiss her for eternity. She tasted so perfect, felt so right snuggled against him. He even closed his eyes, found the intensity of her scents magnified by the temporary loss of sight.

  Her hand clutched his forearm.

  He brought his hand to hers, interlocked their fingers, broke from the kiss. Derrick inhaled sharply at the sight before him. Red hair tangled beneath her, fanned out over her shoulders against the white silk sheets. A slight red tint colored her face. Lips were primed and plump for more kissing. And the blue-silver of her eyes sparkled. “Maybe you should wear only my coat.”

  “Patience, cat. We have some time. Right?” She arched an eyebrow.

  He didn’t know truthfully. Derrick wasn’t even sure where they were or how they got here. He knew only that he�
��d taken out the man who nearly shot Sonja point blank, then something else happened. That’s when his memories became a little hazy.

  Derrick tried to think back to what happened earlier, wondering why Max’s team took so long to flank and nullify their opponents, but the breathy sigh Sonja gave him brought him back to here and now.

  She’d made it out alive. They both had.

  At the thought, the urgency of their sexual encounter reared its head.

  He’d almost lost her, and that would be bad for so many reasons. The security of the world could be at stake, but something deeper made her more important to him.

  The way she kept stroking his shoulders distracted him and kept stealing his thoughts.

  “You’re not in the present, Derrick.” Nails raked along exposed flesh and goose bumps appeared on his skin.

  “Baby, I am now.” Derrick parted her thighs with his leg and pressed into her heat.

  Even through her jeans, she caused sexual agony.

  She hissed, gripped his shoulders tightly, and lifted up to catch him across the throat with her teeth.

  The puma inside growled. Derrick fought the beast’s nature back down, forcing it to realize this was sexual play, not a play for dominance. She may deal with shifters, but as far as he knew, her band and known associates were all human.

  She bit his neck again.

  Another shiver raced through him, forcing his focus on her rather than the beast she’d been taunting. She went for his neck again, nipping him hard enough to send a spike of painful pleasure to his cock.

  He rolled on top of her, supporting his weight by straddling her and resting on his forearms. “I need—”

  She shifted beneath him and cupped him.

  His groin hardened further. She just shattered what little control he had.

  The puma’s tone changed. The beast recognized the core principle that it and Derrick shared.

  They were both male.

  “I know how to play dirty.” She laughed breathlessly. “And I’m not afraid of the big beast, either.”