Raised in Fire (Fire and Ice Trilogy Book 2)

by K. F. Breene

  Mere seconds later, my eyes widened when he brought in a TV tray laden with a gourmet place setting. A heaping plate took up the center, with a glistening steak resting on mashed potatoes and accompanied by string beans. A small bowl of salad and a piece of baguette sat to one side, and an array of silverware spanned out on the other—two knives, one for meat and one for buttering the bread, and two forks of different sizes. A glass of red wine sat next to a sweating glass of sparkling water, and a crystal vase holding a single red rose adorned the other corner.

  “I had roses in my kitchen?” I asked as my stomach growled. That snack hadn’t been nearly adequate.

  “No. I had Mr. LaRay bring one while you were in the bath.”

  Moss LaRay was Darius’s driver, and even though he didn’t like me very much, he’d saved me one time from a bunch of younger vampires. Darius did nothing by halves, and poor Moss had to accommodate him when it came to me. No doubt he hated me more for it.

  “Thank you for this,” I said, and meant it.

  He sat down beside me and flicked on the TV. “Is there anything in particular you’d like to watch?”

  “No, I don’t care. Silence is fine, if you want. I just wanted to see if you’d go through with it.”

  The screen went black and Darius set down the remote.

  “I never asked. Do vampires eat?” I cut off a morsel of the steak and placed it delicately on my tongue. When Darius cooked, the first bite should always be savored, because it always surprised and delighted, no matter how much you had expected to enjoy the decadent meal. “This is unbelievable, Darius, as always.”

  “We can eat food, if we must. Otherwise we couldn’t exist in human society. It isn’t enjoyable, however. It reminds us of the real sustenance we crave. It is a battle of wills to eat food amongst humans, one that only middle- or higher-level vampires can sustain.”

  “Do you miss it?” I indicated my plate.

  “At times I do. Food was one of my loves, many lifetimes ago. Eating pales in comparison to taking blood, however. To the taste, and to the connection and intimacy.”

  “Do certain people really taste better than others?”

  “Taste and feel, yes.”

  “What do you mean, feel?”

  “Some resist the pleasure they are feeling when I am drawing on their vein and often moving within them. They either tense or reserve themselves. It makes for a less enjoyable transfer for all parties.”

  “You prefer willingness, then.”

  “Of course, but more than that. Complete surrender of both parties. I’ve explained this to you before.”

  “Right, yes.” I prevented myself from wiping my brow. Why is it so hot in here? “How’d you get turned into a vampire? You’d said once that you were ambushed. Was that when?”

  He rose gracefully. “That is a story for another day. Would you like more wine? The whole bottle, perhaps?”

  “If you could hold as much alcohol as I can, you’d suck this wine down just as quickly, don’t tell me you wouldn’t. It is delicious.”

  “Bottle, then?”

  “Well, if you’re offering…”

  Chapter Seven

  The next day I marched into the MLE office with a surly attitude and balled fists. If I was going to be fired, I’d do it with my usual gusto. And maybe I’d kick down a door for kicks. I’d rather kick Garret, but that wouldn’t fly. People would think I was ungrateful—or more ungrateful, since I’d already punched him. The last thing I needed, in addition to everyone thinking he’d saved my life, was for them to think he was nicer than me. So far the split on who liked whom better was tied in the office. I needed to keep it that way for the sake of dignity.

  “Oh look, there she is.” Garret stood and rested his elbow on the corner of his cube wall. A gloating grin slid up his face. “Does the air smell sweeter today? Do the colors look brighter and the food taste better? I’ve heard that’s what happens when people have a near-death experience.”

  I flexed my arms to keep them at my sides. I absolutely could not punch him again. I could not.

  “I never did hear a thank-you for saving your life,” Garret continued as I drew closer. Other people popped up out of their cubes, watching.

  “Sure you did,” I said through a tight jaw. I didn’t, but the others didn’t know that. “Last night. I wasn’t aware that heroes stooped to the level of gloating.”

  The smile slipped from his face. Clarissa, in the cube across from him, nodded slightly.

  Ha! Point to me.

  “But anyway, thanks.” I patted his shoulder as I passed, making him jump. “Good work out there. It’s good you had my back after I stabbed that thing.”

  He’d gotten the credit, deserved or not, so the only way to make him still look like a douche was to admit it. Oh well, there were worse things in life. Tomorrow I’d figure out what those were.

  “He in there?” I asked the unimpressed secretary outside of the captain’s office.

  “Yeah. He’s waiting for you.” She waved me through without looking up. That was probably bad news. Usually she told me to make an appointment on the intranet and get away from her desk.

  I knocked. The captain had installed a reinforced metal door to his office after the last time I’d kicked it down. I’d have to find another door to kick in. Why let go of my favorite act of violence just because I’d been outsmarted?

  After a moment I turned the handle and walked in. He glanced up from his desk before leaning back and clasping his hands on his stomach. “That was a civilized entrance.”

  “What can I say? I got a new chance at life, so I turned over a new leaf.” I crossed my arms over my chest, silently refusing to take the chair in front of him. I preferred to get fired standing up, thank you very much.

  “Shut the door,” he said, opening his desk drawer. In a moment, he’d pull out a red card stating my infraction. I’d been here before.

  I did as he asked, and resumed my stance.

  As expected, the square of red made an appearance, followed by a normal-sized piece of paper. He laid both down in front of him and leaned back again. “Let’s clear the air, shall we?” He motioned me into the chair.

  “Sure.” I stayed where I was.

  “I know Garret didn’t save your life.”

  Surprise ran through me. Then alarm. How could he know that? “But he did,” I hastened to say. “You said so yourself.”

  “Sit.”

  “No, I’m good—”

  “Sit,” he barked.

  I did as he said, half wondering what was going on, and half dreading finding out. I didn’t want to have to kill this man to protect my identity. I liked him, for all the grief he’d caused me over the years I’d worked for the MLE as a bounty hunter.

  “You have a terrible poker face unless you’re actively trying to keep something to yourself,” he said, staring down at his desk. “After Garret firebombed the threat, it was clear you believed, without a doubt, that he had not saved your life—even after I explained how an aswang transfers its power. You aren’t one to blow smoke, or get indignant and deny the obvious truth.”

  “I just admitted that Garret did save—”

  He held up his hand. “You also didn’t use any sort of experimental magic. That bullshit lie was obvious. The fire didn’t burn your skin. That’s not possible, that I know of. Not just that, but the way you handled that aswang speaks of a completely different magical person than I typically employ. You’re not like them. You’re not like anyone I’ve ever met. I long suspected that, but now I’ve seen it with my own eyes. I don’t know what you are, Reagan Somerset, but I know it’s more than a leather-clad woman with a fanny pack and no eyebrows.”

  I groaned. “For the last time, it is a pouch, not a fanny pack. How come no one sees the difference?”

  “There is no difference. That’s why no one can see it. Anyway, we’ll table the issue of your unique powers for now.” He pushed forward the red card. “You know what thi
s is, and why you’re getting it.”

  “Because I punched my hero in the nose, yeah. Some bitch I am.”

  “Yes, some bitch is right. Garret is a twerp most times, so I get the feud. Regardless, it was completely out of line. As you know, I’ve raised your tally to five red cards. Most people only get three.”

  “Yep.”

  “Usually, we allow an employee to lose a red card after a clean year of service. You’ve received all five in two months.”

  “But it’s been three weeks since the last one. I’d say that’s progress.”

  “Are you trying to talk yourself back into the job?”

  “Nope.” I shook my head. “I’m just pointing out my awesomeness.”

  “Garret has two red cards on file. He’s gotten three in the six years he’s worked here. The first was in his first year for hot-dogging. The second—”

  “Let me just stop you right there to express how much I honestly do not care.”

  His eyes twinkled and the corner of his mouth tweaked into a half-smile. “Be that as it may, my point is that Garret is the next highest red card holder, and that is largely because of you.”

  “I’m inspiring.”

  “Something like that, yes.” The captain picked up the red card. “Despite your affinity for collecting these, most people don’t cross the hard lines easily. It takes willful disobedience. I, myself, collected four in my tenure on that side of the desk.” He pointed at the chair I was sitting in. “That was in four years. I was great at what I did, but I was unruly.”

  “I hope this doesn’t turn into a job offer.”

  He shook his head and flung the red card across the desk so that it landed right in front of me. “Eventually, it probably will.” He tapped the white sheet of paper. “This is a pardon for all five red cards. A full pardon. Not increasing your number, like last time, but wiping them out altogether. This comes from my superior.”

  I felt the knot work into my brow. “Why?”

  “Because you have extremely powerful friends.” He pushed the sheet across the desk. “I’ll need your signature on both. You know how it goes.”

  “So…wait.” I grabbed the piece of paper. “In addition to not losing my job, I also get to start over?”

  “I doubt I’ll ever be able to fire you, no matter how often you punch Garret. As I said, you have some powerful friends.”

  “That’s absurd. I don’t have any frie—” The words dried up as it hit me. “Darius.”

  “Mr. Darius Durant. An extremely influential elder vampire.” The captain nodded slowly. “Since you were hired, he’s made this office his project. He has no real affiliation with us, but his donations and business sense give him the ear of our board. He’s actually helped out in restructuring, which has saved the organization a lot of money. What he wants, he gets. Without anything being written down, it has come to the board’s attention that one of the things he wants is your happiness. That translates into: what Reagan wants, Reagan gets.” The captain held up a hand. “That wasn’t written anywhere, as I said, but that’s what the board has unofficially decreed.”

  Anger boiled up my middle. This was going a step too far. I did not need my life messed with on this score. Food in my fridge, laundry, dinner delivered—I didn’t like it, but those things saved me money and aggravation. Sometimes it was even kind of nice. But this? No. This was a level of controlling that did not fly. Not at all.

  “Anything else?” I asked with a rough voice.

  “Yes.” The captain shifted in his seat. “You used to keep a pretty low profile. I was a little surprised you let me bring you on, to be honest, but you had the paperwork, so fine. But now, after seeing what I’ve seen, and knowing it won’t be long before everyone else sees it, too—you are possibly walking a dangerous line. Possibly, because I don’t know what you’re hiding.” He held up his hands. “And I don’t want to. But you have the attention of a ruthless elder vamp. His type, as a rule, don’t get involved with humans to this degree unless said human is extremely valuable. That means something if nothing else does. Given the contract from that big case you solved for the vampires, you don’t have to work. Not regularly, anyway. I can’t fire you, Reagan, but I’d strongly suggest you think about whether this job is really the right place for you.”

  I stared at him for a moment, speechless. “But then Garret would win,” I blurted.

  The captain laughed and shook his head. “I think you have bigger things on your plate than worrying about your feud with Garret.”

  “Yeah, but none quite so infuriating.” Though Darius was starting to get close.

  Purposefully, I lifted the piece of paper and ripped it in two before flicking the red card back at him.

  “So you quit, then?” he asked.

  “No. I got fired because I earned the final red card allowed me.” I stood and moved toward the door.

  “What are you going to do now?” the captain asked.

  “Right now, I will attempt to kick this bitch down.” I gleefully faced off with the door. “After, who’s to say?”

  Anger sped up my heart and rushed through my body. I kicked his door. The metal bent. I kicked it again, and a third time, before grabbing the handle and ripping it toward me. It wouldn’t come away. “Damn it, captain. Good call on this door.”

  “You almost got it.”

  Panting, because it was hard work, I kept going. I looked like a complete idiot, but this was going to happen. I anticipated the sweet rush of kicking a door open.

  “It would probably be easier from the other side, you know,” the captain said. Very helpful, the captain.

  “I got it.” I kicked again, this time near the hinges. Metal squealed. After the next kick, it groaned. “Screw you, door!”

  “It’s the vampire you should be taking your aggression out on, not the door, but you’ll get there. With age brings wisdom.”

  A bit nosy, too, the captain.

  I jump-kicked, putting all my power behind it. Finally, the thing bowed in. Like a ruler bent too far, it snapped.

  “Ha! There was wood on the inside.”

  “Normal people wouldn’t be able to kick down that door, you know. The salesperson was very clear on that. Hence the subject of this entire meeting.”

  “Don’t talk logic now, captain. It’s too late.” I yanked on the handle. The metal knob came off in my hand. I grabbed the side where it bowed away from the frame and ripped. Finally, it pulled free, launching toward me.

  I didn’t get out of the way in time. The corner hit my shoulder, sending shooting pain down my arm. Undeterred, or maybe unwilling to show that the door had fought back, I gave it a kick before stomping on it.

  “There,” I said, wiping sweat from my face. “I hope that was expensive.”

  “It was. Very. Shall I charge it to Mr. Durant?”

  “No. Charge it to the board, and blame it on Darius. From me.” I waltzed out, knowing I would not look cool after that, but not caring. There was something about kicking in doors that was intensely gratifying. Like meditation.

  “Well, I guess the reigning king will retain his throne unchallenged,” Garret said with a satisfied smirk, still leaning against his cube wall.

  “Were you fired?” Clarissa asked with sorrowful eyes.

  “Of course she was fired. That’s five red cards. Five.” Garret shook his head and pinned me with gloating eyes. “You should’ve been fired after three. Law enforcement isn’t the place for you. Leave this job to the heroes.”

  “Man, you suck,” I said, passing him by. I didn’t have the strength to punch him. That door had taken a lot out of me.

  I stepped into my cube and looked around. I’d barely used the now-dusty computer, much to the annoyance of the rest of the office. A few pens stood in the holder, and a blurry picture of a sasquatch was pinned to the gray wall of the cube. A joke, because Clarissa had said I needed some personal artifacts. I had nothing to take out of there.

  “Well, it was
boring while it lasted.” I shrugged and turned away. “Good luck, everyone. I guess you’ll see me if a mark you can’t handle comes through.”

  “Yeah, right, like that will happen.” Garret snorted in disdain.

  “Dude, that was my job before this, remember? It did happen. A lot.” I made a fast movement toward him. He flinched, fear crossing his face, before he realized I was just playing. He straightened up with a glower. Someone snickered.

  It was definitely the small things.

  “Check ya later.” I threw up a peace sign on my way out.

  Now what?

  Chapter Eight

  Being that it was daylight, Darius was sleeping. I’d have to wait until nightfall to kick his ass, and I had plans that night, assuming J.M. hadn’t been frightened off. Given the way Darius had oozed menace last night, I wouldn’t blame the poor detective for running the other way. Another reason why I was going to teach that elder vamp a lesson he wouldn’t soon forget.

  With nothing else to do, I figured I might as well practice my special brand of magic. My mage friend Callie was convinced that I needed to use it as much as possible to get my power to blossom. Whether that was true or not—it could be a matter of growing into the power, like the fae did—I figured it couldn’t hurt to keep working at it.

  I exchanged my tank top for a leather halter and put a leather cap over my head. Dizzy was working on a fireproof spell for my hair, but so far, it wasn’t coming along well. He now sported burns ninety percent of the time.

  At least Callie was able to magically restore eyebrows and hair. Speaking of which, I needed to pay her a visit before my dinner tonight, assuming it was on, to get my eyebrows fixed.

  I stepped onto my back porch and closed the door tightly behind me. I didn’t want any air conditioning leaking out.

  I plucked one of Dizzy’s shielding spells out of my pouch, pinched the casing, and threw it at the back of my yard. I did another and threw it at the right side. After fishing around for one more like it, I realized that was it. I had two. That meant the people on the left side of my house would both be able to hear and see me.