blood and magic 02 - kissed by fire

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blood and magic 02 - kissed by fire Page 15

by Danielle Annett


  “The what corporation?” she asked.

  Oh, Rebecka, don’t play dumb with me. It doesn’t become you.

  “You know what I’m talking about, don’t pretend otherwise.”

  She flashed a hint of fang before rising to her feet and turning her back on me to gaze out the shattered window, moonlight shining in through the opening.

  “Tell me what you heard.”

  “I think first I’d like you to tell me why the very mention of the HAC puts you on edge.”

  She whirled around, her skirts billowing out with the movement. Rebecka still clung to the older days and chose to dress in a hooped skirt with a high-collared chemise and a jeweled collar. Her clothing was heavy with embroidery. I was almost certain she also wore a bustle as well, since the fullness around her hips didn’t appear natural.

  “Irina mentioned them several months ago. She believed they could be a strong ally. I’m well aware of what they are a front for. I believe them to be a group of fanatics and told her as much. We don’t see eye to eye on the subject.”

  “Were you aware that she’d gone behind your back and allied with them anyway?”

  “She wouldn’t.”

  “She did.”

  “Do you have proof?” she asked.

  Wasn’t that the million-dollar question? I knew proof existed, I just didn’t have it. I couldn’t give Rebecka anything more than my word on the matter, and I wasn’t sure how far that would really get me.

  “I don’t. It doesn’t really matter though. You know what will happen if I tell the Pack that she killed a shifter child.”

  “Are you threatening me?” Her lip curled and her eyes took on an unnatural red glow.

  “No. I’m simply stating a fact. Whether you believe me or not, you can’t afford not to act. Neither of us want a war but that is exactly what we’ll get if you don’t find her and turn her over to the Pack for retribution.”

  Irina was a loose cannon, one who wanted to see me dead. I doubted I’d be able to find her unless she wanted to be found, which meant I needed Rebecka’s help. She’d know Irina better than anyone; she was likely one of only a handful of people who’d be able to find her, and in the event that Irina did come back to her Coven, I didn’t want her to be welcomed with open arms and given safe haven. She needed to burn.

  “Bring me proof of her betrayal and I’ll consider your request.”

  I scoffed but heard what she wasn’t saying. Rebecka couldn’t agree to turn Irina in, not in front of other Coven members at least. That didn’t mean she wouldn’t start looking for her though. Rebeckah wasn’t selfless. She hadn’t agreed to the Pack and Coven treaty out of good-will. She’d done it out of necessity for her own survival, and Irina’s betrayal put not only her own life, but the entire Coven’s, at risk.

  “Any more harm that she does will rest on your shoulders and I will hold you personally responsible. She’s one of your people.” I warned. “And remember, her disappearing won’t resolve this. The Pack will want blood.”

  I crossed the room, shoving past the three vampires who’d remained at the door. Each gave me a wide berth. I made my way down the stairs to the main level, passing several vampires along the way, but none stopped me.

  I walked into Declan’s office within the Compound that morning, my palms sweating as I knocked on the open door to get his attention. He looked up from his work, his emerald gaze locking with mine, and in that moment I felt a wave of uncertainty. It pained me to know he was so unsure. That I was so unsure on where we stood. We had so much to figure out between us.

  “Hi,” I said.

  “Hi, come in.”

  I walked farther into the room and took a seat in a nearby chair. Rubbing my plans over the top of my jeans, I sat, hesitant of what to say or where to begin. Declan and I both eyed one another.

  I folded my arms over my chest.

  “Well, this isn’t awkward at all,” he said. Nope, not one bit. I smothered a laugh with my hand and heard his responding chuckle. God, this was so awkward, but at least he had a sense of humor. I wasn’t used to seeing that side of him.

  “I’m sorry. I just don’t know…”

  “What to say? Yeah, me either,” he said. Well, that was good, I supposed. At least we were on equal footing. “We may as well start with this.”

  I looked on as he pulled a manila folder from his desk drawer. Oh crap!

  “Want to explain to me what this is?” he asked.

  I shook my head. Nope, I most certainly did not. Dammit, how did he find it? What was I supposed to say? ‘Sorry, I just happen to have been collecting information on the Pack for the last two years and compiling it all together in my own secret stash.’ Yeah, that would go over really well, especially since he’d been hospitable enough to let me stay here the last month. Now I looked like some spy. Great, I was about to get thrown out on my ass for this.

  “Nothing to say?” he asked again. There was a glint in his eyes. I pursed my lips and then caught a slight smile on his face before he let loose a laugh. He was screwing with me. Jerk.

  “Aria, you don’t have to hide this.”

  “I don’t?” I asked cautiously. What was he up to?

  “You’re my mate. I know we’re still figuring that out, but you’re part of the Pack now. You don’t need this. If you have questions, all you have to do is ask.”

  “You’re being serious?”

  He nodded.

  “So…now what?”

  “I think we just take things one day at a time.”

  I nodded. One day at a time was doable. At that moment, a small ball of fur rushed into the room and jumped on Declan’s desk, knocking notebooks and papers all over the floor in its excitement. Declan reached out, catching the small animal in his strong hands and pulling it close into his chest. It began to purr.

  “Wyatt, you’re not supposed to jump on the furniture,” he said to the small leopard cub. The child shifted in his arms, morphing into a very naked little boy with dark-brown, almost black hair, and golden-brown eyes. He squirmed in Declan’s hold, eventually gaining his freedom before running from the room to cause more destruction elsewhere, his smile wide and his arms pumping with his retreat.

  “He’s adjusting well.”

  “Most of them are,” he said. “We’re still working on locating all of the parents. Not all of the children came from our Pack, but James is confident he’ll be able to track them all down and return the children to where they belong.”

  I smiled. I was glad we’d been able to save them, and knowing James was already looking for the parents was reassuring. But I worried most about Hannah. She’d been in the worst shape when I’d found her. Her leg had had to be reset, and she shied away from most people aside from myself and Caden. I hoped that with time she’d come around. She’d suffered a lot, and I prayed that the mental scars weren’t worse than the physical.

  I stood to leave. “Well, I’m just going to…”

  “Aria, before you go.” I paused by the door and waited, and watched as his eyes hardened into emerald stones. “The next time you sneak out to visit the Cove, let me know. We can at the very least save on the gas by taking one car.”

  My jaw dropped. “You followed me.”

  He smiled. “I did.”

  “But you didn’t interfere, you didn’t stop me.”

  He shook his head. “I’m learning to understand that you have your own way of doing things. You were right, I’m not your keeper. But do me the favor of letting me know what you’re up to instead of sneaking around like a thief in the night. That way I can at least provide you with some backup, should you need it.”

  “I don’t need a babysitter,” I said.

  “Not a babysitter, just backup.”

  I gritted my teeth. I wasn’t used to answering to anyone else, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized he wasn’t being unreasonable.

  “I can do that.”

  “Good,” he said.

 
; Good. See, we could get along. One step at a time, Aria, just take one step at a time.

  Danielle Annett is a reader, writer, photographer, and the blogger behind Coffee and Characters. Born in the SF Bay area, she now resides in Spokane, WA, the primary location for her Blood & Magic series.

  Addicted to coffee at an early age, she spends her restless nights putting pen to paper as she tries to get all of the stories out of her head before the dogs wake up the rest of the house and vie for her attention.

  You can learn more about Danielle on her website at

  http://www.Danielle-Annett.com or follow her on Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/AuthorDanielleAnnett

  and on Twitter @Danielle_Annett.

  Dear Reader,

  Thank you so very much for reading Kissed by Fire! I hope you enjoyed seeing where life has taken Aria. She holds a very special place in my heart.

  If you liked “Kissed by Fire,” I hope you’ll consider leaving a review of the book on your favorite retailer website.

  Thanks again for reading and if you’re new to the series, see how it all began. Read the first chapter of Cursed by Fire, book one in the Blood and Magic series. And if you’d like to be updated about new releases, contests, and cover art, visit http://eepurl.com/bgkWbH to sign up for my mailing list.

  —Danielle Annett

  All I saw was blood. Blood soaked my hands and coated the walls. It stained the concrete flooring of the abandoned warehouse and dripped from fixtures that hung from the ceiling, trickling like a slow rain. My vision blurred as anguish filled me. How could this have happened? How could I have been too late?

  I stared down at the lifeless body of a child. A boy. Kneeling in a pool of congealing blood, I ran my fingers through his chestnut hair, ignoring the now-cool moisture seeping into the denim of my pants. His face was unrecognizable. Gone was the child with the dimpled cheek and brilliant blue eyes. Left behind was a mass of flesh and bone—a ruined body drained of its life force at such a young age.

  Reality snapped like an elastic band, bringing me back to the present. Ripped from the haunted memories of finding Daniel’s body.

  The world was a cruel place. It was a fact of life and even though I knew it was true, I still had a hard time coming to terms with the atrocities people committed. The cruelties that for some god forsaken reason, people thought were okay. Staring down at the wallet sized photo now crumpled in my hands, I was greeted by a crown of chestnut hair, bright blue eyes, a heart shaped face, and a brilliant smile; a single dimple on his left cheek. The face of an innocent seven-year-old boy, cut down like he was little more than a calf brought to slaughter. I found myself struggling to link the image of this smiling boy to that of the ruined body I’d found less than forty-eight hours ago.

  Inside, a small part of me burned. My blood heated and a turbulent rage rolled through me, one I had to fight to contain.

  “Ari, you’ve got to stop staring at the kid. He’s gone. Let it go,” I heard Mike say.

  I couldn’t let it go. I didn’t understand how he could either. I looked up from the photograph and stared Mike straight in the eyes. He cringed but held my gaze.

  “He was seven-years-old, Mike,” I said through clenched teeth. “Seven!”

  I shook my head, the poor kid had barely lived, barely tasted what the world had to offer. I take that back, he’d tasted too much of what the world could give and it had cost him.

  Ever since the Awakening six years ago when all things that went bump in the night decided to come out of the woodwork and play, safety had been tenuous at best and kids like this, like seven-year-old Daniel Blackmore, they suffered the price.

  Vampires, Shifters, Mages, Witches and many more creatures of the night so to speak had seemingly popped out of no where, deciding they were ready to integrate themselves into everyday, or night, society.

  Daniel was abducted by a rogue vampire. I’d found his mangled body, broken and discarded as if he were nothing more than a piece of trash and I was going to find the bastard that killed him and make him pay.

  “Ari, I know what you’re thinking and the answer is no.”

  I looked Mike up and down. He was an older man in his late forties with a streak of silver in his otherwise midnight colored hair. The winkles around his eyes would lead you to believe he smiled a lot but I knew better. Those lines were from his ever-present frown. Dressed in black slacks and a grey button up shirt, his mid-section strained against the buttons looking like they could pop off at any moment, likely taking someone’s eye out in the process.

  “I wasn’t asking for your permission,” I told him, my gaze going back to the photo.

  “I don’t give a rat’s ass if you were asking. I’m telling you Ari, let it go! You can’t help him anymore. All you’ll end up doing is getting yourself hurt or worse, killed for your trouble.”

  That was the problem with people who had lived through the Awakening. Their only concern was self-preservation. Nothing else mattered. Well, screw that because this little boy, he mattered. His life mattered and he deserved justice. I had scrubbed my hands after finding his broken body but couldn’t scrub the stain his death left on my soul.

  I stood up from my desk and grabbed my keys and daggers. I sheathed the twin blades on either side of my waist, grabbed my leather jacket, and made a beeline for the door. Mike crossed the room to intercept me, arms folded over his chest blocking my way.

  “Move,” I bit out.

  “No.”

  “I can move you.”

  “You can, but you won’t.”

  I ground my teeth together. He was being ridiculous. This entire situation was ridiculous.

  “Mike, this isn’t some game. A little boy died. He died! Does that even matter to you? I couldn’t live with myself if I let this one go.”

  “What’s your plan, Ari, you going to just storm into the coven and force them to tell you who did it? They won’t tell you. They protect their own and you’re one person against an entire coven of blood-thirsty vampires. Even the kid’s parents know it’s a lost cause. They’ve dropped the case and are focusing on burying their kid. They’re coming to terms with his death. It’s over.”

  I’d been hired by Jessica Blackmore, Daniels’ mother, a little over two weeks ago to find her son who’d gone missing one afternoon. He was walking home from a friends, only five houses down from his own, but never made it to the front door. She’d thought it safe enough to allow him the small bit of independence but with paranormals about, it was never truly safe.

  Mike knows I’m different. He knows I have pyrotechnic abilities and he knows I can take care of myself. This wasn’t reasoning talking, this was him being overprotective. Feeling the temperature in the room begin to rise I forced myself to inhale and exhale slowly. Trying to calm down and keep my pyrokinesis locked up tight. It wouldn’t help the situation to start a fire. All it would do is prove to Mike that I wasn’t in control and right now I was in no mood for a lecture.

  “Look, Ari, you’re a mercenary. You take on a job when you have a client. There is no client so there is no job. We’re not the police. We don’t try to clean up the streets or bag the bad guys. We’re mercs.”

  I couldn’t blame him for his way of thinking. Hell, two weeks ago I would have said the same thing, but this was different. He was just a kid and I couldn’t believe everyone was so willing to leave his murderer out there.

  “Why don’t—”

  Mid-sentence I heard the distinct buzz of a cell phone. Mike dug his phone out of his left pocket and answered it without looking at the screen.

  “Hello,” he said. Mike’s face scrunched in confusion, a furrow forming between his brows. He listened for several moments and then with a grunt he hung up and stared me down. At six feet tall, he towered over me by a good five inches, but I didn’t back down. Lifting my chin and giving him my best try me stare. The one I knew drove him crazy.

  “Looks like you’re getting exactly what you asked for,” he
said.

  “And what exactly is that?”

  “That was Declan Valkenaar on the phone.”

  Holy shit, the Pack Alpha. What the hell was he doing calling Mike?

  “Turns out the dead kid is actually a shifter. His dad’s not so willing to let his death go unanswered. You’ve got yourself a client. The Pacific Northwest Pack.”

  I raised an eyebrow and waited for him to continue. The Pack didn’t outsource work. It didn’t make any sense for them to hire me when they could handle the situation on their own and likely preferred to.

  He sighed in irritation but went on anyway.

  “Somehow the Pack heard about you and the waves you’ve made so far on the case. You worked it for two weeks straight and despite the fact that we were too late, your efforts showed. They want you. Your fee has already been paid. In full.”

  I was shocked. This was out of left field. My thoughts must have shown because Mike added one more bit of detail.

  “Also, we know the culprit is a vampire. The pack is hoping to avoid any issues with the coven so you’re supposed to prevent a war.” He grinned like it was funny.

  I clenched my eyes shut and counted to ten. This was going to be a nightmare. The Pack and the Coven are always at one another’s throats and playing middleman between the two was going to suck.

  At least the gig paid well. Hiring a mercenary like myself wasn’t cheap. I had a near perfect track record so my fee was practically double what most mercs charged. I would have done the job free but being paid meant Mike wouldn’t stop me from taking it on. He had to earn a living too and now that he worked behind a desk, he relied on the 10% cut he got from the rest of us. The raise in fee also meant I couldn’t gripe about being wedged between two factions of paranormals. I had a feeling that no matter how hard I tried, blood would be spilled. The relationship between shifters and vampires was too volatile to expect anything else. I just hoped it wasn’t mine.

  At least someone out there was willing to take a stand. A lingering thought entered my head. This wasn’t adding up.

 

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