by Jory Strong
Despite his good intentions, Taine’s hand slid from his pocket and gripped her arm. He tried to make it appear as if he was ensuring that she traveled safely through the debris. Gaige’s head shake and Crew’s eye roll said they weren’t fooled.
“I’m good,” Saffron said, an edge in her voice as she stepped to the side, freeing herself from his grip.
He suppressed a growl. Glowered at Gaige and Crew. Inhaled.
The scent of his mate’s earlier arousal lingered. But it didn’t seem to be intensifying.
That was acceptable. He wasn’t lavishing amorous attention on her at the moment. And appearances mattered to her. According to her, they were supposed to be acting professional.
His sanguinity lasted all of a heartbeat.
“Catch up to you in a minute,” she said, angling away from him and toward an older Hispanic man.
Her light steps and hurried pace had smoke working its way into Taine’s nostrils. He sucked it back into his lungs and forced himself to join Gaige and Crew rather than chase after his troublesome mate.
They didn’t hide their amusement at watching him watch Saffron.
The hand she offered the human turned into a quick hug and a small tendril of smoke accompanied Taine’s growl.
Gaige shook his head. “Walk away my friend. Even if the two of you bond, love means that you will never again be in control.”
“I am in control of the situation,” he said without glancing away from Saffron.
Crew laughed. “The delusion continues.”
“Comes with the territory,” Gaige said. “Do me a favor, if I ever look at a woman the way Taine is looking at his human, lock me in a cell until I come to my senses.”
“If you’ll do the same for me.”
“Agreed.”
Taine ignored them. Fought the urge to join Saffron as she spoke to the human.
An unbearable time—measured in minutes by his companions but by agonized self-restraint for him—passed before Saffron returned to his side.
Taine struggled not to pull her into his arms and smother the traces of the other man’s scent with his own. His control held primarily because she didn’t smell of lust.
When he was sure it wouldn’t come out as a growl, he asked, “Who is he?”
“Miguel Gutierrez. He’s an arson investigator.”
Crew’s eyes glittered with amusement. He offered a hand and introduced himself to her. Gaige did the same, then tilted his head in Kristof’s direction and said, “That’s Kristof. He’ll tell you himself, he’s IRE’s best sorcerer.”
The sorcerer was too absorbed in studying the area around him to acknowledge the introduction. Crew asked Saffron, “Did Gutierrez tell you anything?”
“He thinks the house was completely empty of furnishings. He was more interested in what you knew.”
“Right now, that’s nothing.” Crew glanced at Kristof then at Taine, leaving it up to him how much to reveal.
Taine lightly curled his hand around his mate’s forearm, earning a smirk from Crew. “This was a major working. A complex spell can spread across a large area and require that nothing be touching the lines, which explains the empty house. This won’t be where the sorcerer lived.”
“So spells are written? Not spoken?”
“It depends on the spell,” Kristof said, drawing their attention to him.
He pulled what looked like fine, white netting from a yellow knapsack with a black multi-circle hazard symbol stitched onto the front. Completely liberated, the woven magic was circular, some twenty feet in diameter, and a costly use of power. But given that there were humans other than Saffron on site, the netting would allow Kristof to reveal pieces of the spent spell while allowing observers to see something they could understand and label advanced, even alien, technology.
IRE wasn’t charged with the goal of increasing human awareness of the supernatural. Though as a division of Supernatural Operations, their work sometimes had that effect.
In moderation, revelations were acceptable. Anything beyond moderation would earn an ass-kicking, maybe all the way back to the offender’s home world.
“This working had a focal point,” Kristof told Saffron, his gaze lingering a little too long on her as far as Taine was concerned. “It took a while to follow it to this spot. This is absolute ground zero. And because there is a focal point, the symbols here should tell us what the sorcerer was after.”
Kristof anchored the mesh with small spelled stakes. He studied it a moment longer then triggered a working with a softly spoken word.
Inch-high flames erupted. They burned a pattern into the magical weave then died.
“You recognize it?” Kristof asked.
“Phoenix,” Gaige said, answering for all of them. “Pull one of those into this world and the city would be burning. That’d make the spell a fail.”
Kristof removed a small dark purple bell jar from his backpack. “I’m thinking success. An egg would account for the damage. The astrologist can confirm it.”
He filled the jar with ashes. Stoppered it with magic.
Gaige took the jar from him, handed it to Taine with a smirk. “You do the honors. The astrologist always works faster when you’re the one asking for help.”
“We’ll head there now,” Taine said, hoping Kristof was wrong about the sorcerer having succeeded in pulling a phoenix egg into the human world. If he wasn’t wrong, then Saffron would be in danger.
The prospect of it had Taine fantasizing about stashing her somewhere safe, somewhere he wouldn’t have to worry about her, somewhere like the dragon realm.
Instinct demanded it, but follow through and Saffron might never forgive him. Especially if people she cared about perished.
They returned to the sedan.
Saffron’s heart was still beating too hard and too fast as she dropped into the front passenger seat and accepted the jar holding the ashes. It was one thing to be mildly interested in the supernatural but to actually witness proof of its existence…
But still… “A phoenix? Seriously? We’re talking a mythical creature that rises from its own ashes.”
She tightened her hand on the small purple jar. It was cool against her palm but she hadn’t imagined what’d happened with the cloth Kristof had laid out. Not that the end result could be explained by embers or residual heat.
There’d been no smoke. No glow. Besides that, fire didn’t burn what looked like precise, intricate script.
“There’s truth in myth,” Taine said.
“So I’ve heard.” Both Sabra and Lia loved to say that very thing.
Taine reclaimed her hand. “Is it so hard to believe that there are parallel universes? Many a physicist argues it’s not only possible but likely. Magic is power. Spells are focused power. And power is ultimately energy that is capable of displacing matter and creating a pathway.”
Saffron’s mouth went dry. “You mean a portal between parallel worlds.”
“Exactly.”
The approval in his voice and eyes made her heart somersault like a cheerleader after a touchdown. That was totally not her. Reaching the concept of portal was a logical progression given that alternate universes weren’t more difficult to believe in than sentient beings evolving in a different galaxy or beyond what humans could currently see or reach in the Milky Way.
“Why a phoenix or a phoenix egg?” But as soon as she asked, her heart banged harder and faster against her ribs. Crew had said that San Diego would burn, but it didn’t have to be this city, her city.
“What if it’s meant to be used in a terrorist attack?” That would explain Homeland setting up Supernatural Ops and IRE. A phoenix could serve the same purpose as a massive bomb.
“A sorcerer who used a spell to ensure that there were no casualties as a result of his working isn’t likely to be involved in that kind of a plot. The sorcerers we police are inevitably after more personal power. When we determine who, we’ll have a sense of why.” Taine stroked hi
s thumb over her knuckles. “I’ll keep you safe.”
Her heart did a little roll, going girly-girly as if she weren’t SDFD and damn good in a firefight. “I can take care of myself.”
“I won’t allow you to be put into danger.”
“Excuse me? Allow?” Some of the fury she’d felt in the Battalion Chief’s office returned. She was not a plaything. She was a professional.
“You’re responsible for having me assigned to IRE. As far as danger goes, the sorcerer can bring it on. I’m not going to let San Diego burn if I can do something to prevent it. And just so you know, Taine, I’m not into serious relationships, no matter how good the sex is. It’s casual or it’s not happening.”
He gave her a heated, challenging look. “You’re claiming it was good sex?”
The growl in his voice was all masculine affront. Men!
Forget sorcerers, phoenix eggs and the threat to San Diego, it was the possible insult to sexual prowess that mattered. “Okay, it was great sex.”
He grinned and carried her hand to his mouth to nibble on her knuckles. “I’m glad we got that straightened out.”
She released a breath and the fury went with it.
How could that be possible?
Because you’ve got it bad for him.
No way. She refused to believe that. They were in an intense, high-stakes situation and she was reacting to it. That was all.
“Onward?” she asked. “To see the astrologist?”
He placed her hand on his muscled thigh, inches away from an erection that had her clamping her legs together.
“Onward,” he said in a satisfied tone.
Chapter 7
In what should have been peaceful solitude, the sorcerer’s phone rang. His lips tightened at being disturbed at work. Work was his refuge from the politics of magic.
If not for the number on the display he would have allowed it to go to voicemail. Instead he answered the call with, “What do they know?”
“That you attempted to bring a phoenix into this realm, or possibly an egg.”
Attempted? As if he was an incompetent failure, a nobody. It stung but he refused to delve into that place of pain. What he’d soon achieve would forever etch his name in the history books in this realm. “They’ve sent someone to the astrologist?”
“Taine, one of the dragons, along with a human firefighter loaned to IRE. He’s in the process of claiming her as his mate.”
“If they’re consulting with the astrologist, then they’ll soon have confirmation that my working was a complete success. That much was inevitable. But if they make too much progress, too quickly, a disruption might become necessary. Keep me informed.”
“I will.”
The sorcerer dropped his cellphone into a shirt pocket, hated that the call had left his palms damp. He wiped the sweat off on his uniform.
In front of him, a doe with two spotted fawns crossed the trail. He felt a trickle of fear. Time was wasting and he didn’t like leaving the egg unattended—especially not here.
If he’d misjudged how close the phoenix was to emerging, or if the containment spell weakened and power flared in a stream of flame, the results would be devastating.
It won’t happen. I’m in control of the situation, he thought, though his heart continued to beat erratically and he again wiped his palms against his uniform.
* * * *
The astrologist’s house was in Mission Hills, with a view of Old Town. It sat behind a short fence, the wood grayed with age.
Landscaping meant to look wild and a red stone walkway created a path upward to a narrow, pale yellow adobe house with a red tile roof. Saffron and Taine reached a lightly stained wooden front door carved with symbols.
“What do they say?” Saffron asked, tugging her hand from Taine’s and trying to ignore that she missed the contact.
“They’re warnings mostly. All predictably dire.” Said as if not one of them could touch him, and that brought a smile.
“So, knocking is out?” There didn’t seem to be a doorbell.
“We wait.”
There were no visible cameras, but that didn’t mean there weren’t a few hidden in the foliage.
A minute turned into three. And then another two passed before the door opened and she was in the presence of another fantasy-worthy specimen of manhood.
He had long black hair and blue, bedroom eyes beneath thick, sinful lashes. She was starting to believe that drop-dead gorgeousness was a criteria for being a member of the involved-with-the-supernatural brotherhood.
Except there had been the small, pinched-lipped censorious guy back at IRE HQ. Still, one out of six…
The astrologist looked her over with a smoldering, heavy-lidded glance then did the same to Taine, lingering at the front of Taine’s jeans. “I assume it’s urgent since they sent the big gun.”
Saffron coughed to hide a laugh, torn between being a little turned on and being embarrassed for Taine who was scowling. “It’s urgent.”
“It always is with you guys.” The astrologist stepped out of the doorway and they entered his vanilla-scented house.
“I’m Saffron,” she said, some of the fury returning when it became clear that Taine had no intention of introducing her.
The astrologist’s gaze traveled over her, those bedroom eyes promising a hell of a lot of heat.
“You don’t need to know his name,” Taine said, a distinct growl in his voice.
The astrologist’s gaze flicked to Taine’s erection and his lips curved into a sly smile. “Only those I’m intimate with hold my name.”
It was shades of some erotic fairytale and she was not going there. “That explains everything.”
He laughed and turned away then led them past a multitude of cactus plants in colorful pots and into a small, windowless room with a floor of patterned ceramic tiles.
Four wooden chairs surrounded a large round table, though she suspected table wasn’t an accurate description. It was solid stone, intricately carved like a sundial.
“Don’t touch it,” Taine said, taking the jar from her and handing it to the astrologist.
They sat, with her next to Taine and the astrologist across from them. Taine recaptured her hand.
The astrologist uncorked the jar, poured the ashes into a pyramid at the center of the circular slab. After setting the jar on the floor, he pressed his palms to the stone surface.
She sensed the positioning was exact but couldn’t interpret any of the symbols that he covered, or the ones that—on closer inspection—were placed on either side of narrow grooves that crisscrossed the circle like a grid.
Or maybe a map? In the traditional sense, astrology dealt with the position of the planets and their influence on humans, but given the existence of other realms…
Saffron leaned forward for a better look, careful not to touch the slab. The astrologist glanced at Taine, lifted dark eyebrows to imply that explanations were at his discretion.
She blushed. Damnit. The handholding might as well be a shout that she wasn’t an IRE agent.
What kept happening to her demand that they keep it professional while they were on the job?
She tried to extricate her hand. Taine refused to release it.
The astrologist’s gaze heated and out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw a tendril of smoke.
Relenting, she stopped tugging at her hand. Beneath the stone table, Taine pressed her palm to his erection.
Oh she was going to make him pay for that. Except, she had the feeling that he’d enjoy the payback.
“Shall we proceed?” the astrologist asked.
“Yes,” Taine said.
There was definitely a growl of pure possessiveness in his voice despite the warning she’d given him in the car about keeping things casual or they were done.
The trouble was, that growl made her wet not dry. And the weird fluttering in her chest suggested that she hoped he hadn’t actually listened to her warning.
>
That couldn’t be right. She refused to let that be right.
Love led to death. Or pain that made you wish you were dead.
Not going there. No way. No how.
Her brother would still be alive if he hadn’t fallen in love with Shelby. And the anguish she’d experienced at losing her father didn’t touch her mother’s agony.
I’m in an intense, high-stakes situation and breaking a sex-fast with an uber-hot man. A little craziness is to be expected. Right?
In front of her, the astrologist’s expression changed. Instead of heated, speculative glances he seemed to be looking inward.
A minute passed. Then a second minute. And then ash tumbled down one side of the pyramid and into one of the channels.
Around them, the air was completely still and yet the ash moved into the channel. Slowly at first, then faster, pushing the ash already in the channel forward like water in an irrigation ditch.
“The various realms shift position,” Taine murmured. “They rotate around each other and the earth. It’s not unlike the various planets rotating around the sun though the realms aren’t constrained by the same physics. The places and times when it’s possible to create a portal to this world vary. This will verify what realm the sorcerer touched with his spell. It could provide the coordinates, not that we need them since we collected the ash directly from the source.”
The ash filling the channel altered course by ninety-degrees, completely defying what might have been coincidental forward momentum if even that much could be explained by something other than magic. The trail of ash took several more turns before the pyramid at the center of the stone slab stopped shedding ash.
“Djinn,” the astrologist said. “Do you need to identify which djinn realm and kingdom?”
“No.”
She glanced at Taine. “Djinn? As in genie in a bottle?”
“There’s truth in myth.”
She exhaled slowly. Sabra and Lia were obviously on to something.
“It’s a way to banish enemies,” the astrologist said, moving his hands and flattening them at different places on the slab.