Burned by Fire
Blood & Magic #3
Copyright © 2016 Danielle Annett
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the author.
This book is a work of fiction; all characters, names, places, incidents, and events
are the product of the author's imagination and either fictitious or used fictitiously.
Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Cover Design: J.M. Rising Horse Creations
Editor: Main Line Editing
Editor: Coffee and Characters
Interior Book Designer: Coffee and Characters
Aria’s pyrokinetic ability has always been hard to control, and being pulled in so many directions, isn’t making it any easier. Now she has to help Inarus, a foe turned friend who is being targeted by the Human Alliance Corporation—the very organization he once worked for.
But the HAC has more than just Inarus in their sights. Aria finds herself going deep into enemy territory to save a witchling child with never before seen powers, that the HAC has kidnapped to further their own ends.
Aria has been hired to save a child once before, and she failed. That failure has haunted her even to this day and she won’t let herself fail again. With the HAC closing in, and complications between herself and the Pack rising, Aria has no choice but to succeed. A child’s life is on the line and Aria will risk everything to save that life.
To Rachel Aaron, Anne Bishop, Nalini Singh, Amanda Bouchett, and many, many others. It was your books that kept me up late at night, turning the pages upon new adventures, that ultimately kept me from writing my own in a timely manner. Every page was worth it though.
Blood and Magic
Cursed by Fire
Kissed by Fire
Burned by Fire
Business at Sanborn Place had been busier than ever, and it was beginning to take its toll. I’d assumed it would be difficult to get things up and going after my predecessor’s death, but clients were coming in left and right, and I was having a hard time keeping up. I needed to hire another mercenary, or three, but finding good people was proving to be surprisingly difficult and everyone who had been working here before, left after Mike’s death.
Jack had been my first hire and I’d had really high hopes for him. He’d been all muscle and smooth confidence, until I’d sent him out to get rid of a small snake infestation.
The client had been a bit vague on the details, but Jack had said he could handle it. He wasn’t afraid of a little snake. He’d had an impressive resume too and, I mean, how hard could it be?
He’d come back less than an hour later, dropped off his keys to Sanborn Place, and said he quit. Turned out our little snake problem happened to be a six-hundred-pound problem, and he’d had no desire to become any snake’s breakfast.
Russell had been hire number two. He broke his ankle going down a flight of stairs chasing after a demented cat that looked freakishly like a bunny, except for the pointed ears and long tail. Our client had called it a cabbit—a cross between a cat and a rabbit that supposedly was worth thousands to prospective pet owners. He’d paid a hefty fee for us to track down the animal, and in the process, I’d lost my prospective hire in a freak accident. Like I said, it was a pain finding good people, which was why I’d been working solo this past week, taking every job that came my way. I couldn’t afford the hit my reputation would take if I started turning business away.
I trudged up the stairs to my apartment and wiped wet tendrils from my face. Water sloshed in my boots, a reminder of today’s most recent adventure. I’d had the pleasure of bodyguard duty for a water nymph, which was no easy task given that, in her eyes, I was a glorified babysitter, and we happened to be staying in a cabin that was mere feet from the Spokane River. It was the middle of January, and I’d taken the polar bear plunge more than once today. I was chilled to the bone, wet, hungry, and I sorely needed a good cup of coffee, or three.
Only one more flight of stairs to go. I could already taste the coffee on my tongue and feel the hot spray of a warm shower against my skin.
As my apartment door came into view, the hairs on the back of my neck rose and my body went on high alert. Something was off, and dammit, wasn’t that just my luck. I stood in the hall, a chilling breeze whipping my wet hair around my face from the open balcony doors and stinging my cheeks. Shit, it was cold.
I narrowed my gaze. Why were the balcony doors open in the middle of winter? It was like a blizzard out there. I stepped closer toward the balcony, intending to shut the doors, when a splash of red to my left caught my attention instead. There was blood on the doorknob leading into my apartment. This couldn’t be good.
I took a deep breath and debated just turning around. I was too tired to deal with anything else today. Was it too much to ask for some dry clothes and a hot cup of coffee? For chrissakes, I’d take a cold cup of coffee at this point. Then again, it was my apartment, and with my luck, there would be a dead body inside and I’d be framed for the murder. Why couldn’t stuff like this happen at a decent time of day when I was fully rested?
I pressed my ear against the door. Well, really it was more like I slumped against the door, but the result was the same. I listened for any signs of movement. The wooden door was cool against my cheek. Silence greeted me. Hmm, maybe there really is a dead body, I mused with a sick sense of morbid curiosity.
I gripped the doorknob and turned it. The door opened on silent hinges. I peered inside. Bloodied footprints left a pattern across the tiled floor leading down the hallway. The prints were large, clearly a man’s. They smeared across the floor, as though whoever had walked in had struggled with each step they took. There were splashes of crimson along the walls. Several clear handprints were visible. I studied the scene for a brief moment. Whoever had come in was tired and injured. Well, that made two of us, except for the injured part. I doubted with this much blood loss that they would still be much of a threat, but I wasn’t going to take any chances. I’d been around paranormals too long, and I knew just how quickly one could recover. You’d be surprised how quickly a vamp could regenerate a limb, or how quickly a shifter could heal from a cut that would require stitches for anyone else. No, whoever had been here could only be discarded as a threat if they were human, and even then, I wasn’t so sure that humans were as harmless as society believed them to be.
I withdrew my daggers from the sheath resting low on my hips and stepped further inside. My heart pounded in my chest, adrenaline coursing through my veins. I tried to call my fire to the surface, but I was too exhausted. I needed a nap, food, and a hot shower before I’d be able to conjure up even a spark. I heard a rustle of movement coming from my bedroom, and every one of my senses went on high alert. Whoever had broken in was still here.
My frozen fingers forgotten, I padded down the hall as silently as my water-filled boots would allow and crept around the corner. My bedroom door was left ajar. I peered inside. There was more blood to be found. It was smeared across the floor and walls. It covered the olive-green comforter resting atop my bed. Christ, there was so much blood. I pushed the door all the way open and stepped inside. My boots made a squishing sound in the carpet, and when I looked down, I realized that I wasn’t sure if the sound came from my shoes, or the blood soaking the floor.
The sound of running water caught my attention, as did the faint buzzing in my ears, and I turned to the adjoining bathroom. Light escaped from beneath the closed door. The buzzing persisted, letting me know that whoever was behind that door was a
psyker, like me. Just my luck. That meant whoever was here had a psychokinetic ability and enhanced healing. Who knew just how injured they really were.
I debated storming in or waiting for the intruder to come out on their own. Before I could decide, the bathroom door opened and Inarus walked out. Without thought, I lobbed a dagger at his chest. The blade stopped midair, his palm facing out as he used his telekinesis to prevent the blade from hitting its target. His hands and arms looked freshly washed, but the rest of him was covered in blood, and he looked like he’d had the crap beaten out of him. A deep indigo bruise marred the right side of his jaw, and he had some swelling to his bottom lip. The left side of his face seemed to be the worst. Green and yellow splotches covered his normally attractive features, and dark purple circles rested beneath both of his stark grey-blue eyes. His black hair was slightly overgrown, giving him a disheveled appearance. He looked like shit.
“What the hell happened to you?” I asked. He lowered his hand, the dagger dropping harmlessly to the floor before he slumped against the doorframe. I sheathed my second blade and folded my arms across my chest as I waited for a response. I fought the urge to run to him. He wasn’t mine. We weren’t a thing, and I didn’t want us to be. But for some reason, it hurt to see him like this. Why did I care?
It’d been several weeks since I’d seen Inarus. The last time we’d been together, he’d helped get a group of shifter children that had been abducted out of a lab inside the Human Alliance Corporation. I’d taken a beating while Inarus ported the kids out one by one, and when he’d come back for me, I’d blacked out from having my life practically choked out of me. I had woken up surrounded by kits and cubs in my apartment with no sign of him. Weeks had gone by with no word, and now he was in my apartment covered in blood. He had a lot of explaining to do.
“What happened to you?” he asked, waving his arm at the mess that was my current state. I pushed my hair back behind my ears and felt something slimy. I pulled a glob of green sludge out of my hair and tossed it to the floor. Gross.
“Water nymph, but I was on the job. Your turn.” I raked my fingers through my hair to see if more of the river’s contents had lingered. Inarus ran his own hand through his midnight-black hair, his clear grey-blue eyes filled with frustration.
“I had a run-in with Aiden. It’s nothing.”
“What do you mean you had a run-in with Aiden? I thought he was your friend. You two work together.” I’d met Aiden several weeks back when I’d stayed within the HAC. He was one of my mother’s henchmen and at the bottom of my favorites list. Still, I’d gotten the impression that he and Inarus were close.
“I don’t have any friends, not anymore,” Inarus said. I pulled out several leaves from the wet strands and then gave up. I was confused. I knew why I didn’t like Aiden—he’d tried putting a leash on my abilities. And I knew why he didn’t care for me—he thought I was a danger to myself and to others. I was certainly a danger to him if we crossed paths again. What I didn’t understand was why Inarus no longer considered him a friend when they were practically besties the last time I’d seen them together.
“I lost everything.” I heard what he didn’t say out loud. I pressed my lips into a hard line. He’d lost everything because of me. Realization hit, and the repercussions of Inarus helping me rescue the shifter children came into full view. Inarus had been a part of the Human Alliance Corporation. He’d had a life and a career with them. He’d been a few short missions away from earning his way into PsyShade, a shadow organization within the HAC. A shady as hell organization, but one he’d almost desperately wanted to be a part of. How could I have been so stupid as to expect that his life would go on as normal after he went against them to help me?
I thought about pointing out that—really, I’d done him a favor by blowing his chances of getting in with them—but then thought better of it. “What are you doing here?” I asked instead. Of all the places he could have gone, why come to my apartment? I was the reason he was in this mess in the first place.
“I didn’t have anywhere else to go. They’ve staked out all of my properties and tied up all of my funds. I figured you’d have some supplies to help me patch myself up. I wasn’t planning on staying long.”
I looked at him, really looked. “Where’d all the blood come from, Inarus?”
“It won’t be long until they track me down again. I’m sorry about the mess. I was just on my way out.” Inarus pushed off from the doorway. I followed him as he made his way down the hallway.
“I don’t care about the mess. Look, that back there”—I waved my arm behind me—“it’s a lot of blood. I’m worried—”
He stumbled and caught himself on the wall. I rushed forward and pulled his arm over my shoulders, taking on some of his weight. His face was pale. How anyone could look so pale with so much purple and blue on their face was a mystery, but he managed it. I helped him walk the remainder of the way to the living room and helped him onto my sofa.
“Look, I’m sorry. I never meant—”
He cut me off. “You didn’t do this, Aria.” I shook my head. This was my fault. I didn’t regret rescuing the shifter children, but this…I should have known what was going on. I should have been there to help him from the beginning. Guilt tore at me, and I rubbed my chest as if I could lessen the feeling.
Inarus leaned back, his hand resting over his abdomen. I pushed his hand aside and lifted his shirt. A hiss of pain escaped him.
I swore. “What the hell happened to you?” An angry gash met me. The jagged line started near his right rib cage and curved over to the left and down to his hipbone. The edges were red and angry, and he must have crudely stitched himself together in a rush, because the sutures weren’t holding. Blood seeped through the wound in rivulets down his muscled torso.
Inarus pushed his shirt back down, hiding the injury. “I told you, I had a run-in with Aiden.” Yeah, and from the looks of it, Aiden had nearly cut him in two.
“Wait here,” I said.
“I’m fine. I need to go.” I ignored him and pulled the first-aid kit from beneath my kitchen sink. I had at least half a dozen of them throughout my apartment. I set it on the coffee table and then grabbed a bowl of warm water and a washcloth.
Inarus glared at me but didn’t say anything as I pushed his shirt up once more. He might not have wanted my help, but he needed it. I took the washcloth and dipped it into the bowl of warm water before carefully cleaning any excess blood from around the gash. It didn’t take long for the bowl of clear liquid to turn a rust red, and I had to dump and refill it two more times.
“Are there any others?” I asked.
“This is the worst of it.”
I nodded and then, as gently as possible, went about cleaning the injury itself. His abdominal muscles flexed beneath my hands, but he didn’t make a sound. I looked up, my eyes meeting his. His skin was still pale, now taking on an ashen quality, and a thin bead of sweat ran down the side of his face. His jaw was clenched, and the orbs of his eyes were filled with pain, but in his gaze I saw appreciation.
“I don’t have any painkillers,” I told him. Drugs were hard to come by these days, and all I had were a few Tylenol, which wouldn’t be enough to even take the edge off. After the Awakening, big pharma had gone under, along with most hospitals, police forces, fire departments, and anything else that our government at the time had had their hands in. Now there was no national government, just ruling factions with invisible boundaries that held their power by shear strength and force of will.
“I can handle it.” I wasn’t so sure about that. His eyes were at half-mast, and I had a feeling that he was on the verge of passing out.
“I’m sorry I caused this,” I said, and I was. “If they’re so angry over what we did, why are they only coming after you?” Things had been quiet on my end for once. I’d kept busy with Sanborn Place and working out with James almost every morning. Aside from that, nothing exciting ever seemed to happen. It was, refresh
ing.
I set aside the rag and pulled out a surgical needle, antiseptic, and thread. “I’m going to sew over your existing sutures. You’ll have a scar, but the wound will be sealed and you’ll be able to heal more quickly.” Inarus was a psyker, like me, which meant in addition to his psychokinetic abilities, he also healed at a rapid rate, much like shifters, but not quite as fast. It worried me that his wound was still bleeding and that the bruises hadn’t started to fade yet. He’d likely burned himself out during his altercation with Aiden. He’d still heal quicker than your average human, but he needed food and sleep in order to recharge. If I could keep him from bleeding out, he should be good to go after a day or two of rest at most.
He nodded.
“This is going to hurt.”
He looked away but didn’t object, so I took it as his acceptance. I used gauze to apply the antiseptic, and then I disinfected the needle before threading it. “So, why are they only after you?” My hand shook slightly as I started. I took a deep breath and then sank the needle through warm flesh, pulling it through before tugging slightly to ensure that the thread would hold. Satisfied, I pushed the needle through again, crossing over the wound in a zigzag pattern.
“You’re Viola’s daughter, and you’re not the one with insider information. I’m too much of a liability to let live, and she still hopes you’ll join the HAC.” Fat chance of that ever happening. I’d team up with my mother when hell froze over.
“They’re really trying to kill you?” I asked, my eyes focused on the task at hand. Inarus cupped my jaw and tilted my face towards his.
“Aria, does this look like they want me alive?” There was resignation in his voice, as though he believed this to be a losing battle. His attitude was going to need to change.
“They’re going to have to deal with it,” I told him. “I’m not going to let them kill you.” It was a promise. I pulled my chin away and continued sewing him up. Inarus didn’t comment. His eyes had closed and his head lolled to the side. Well, at least he could finally rest.
Burned by Fire (Blood & Magic Book 3) Page 1