Greek Fire: Book Two of the Guardians

by Lawrence, S

  Greek Fire

  Book Two of the Guardians

  S Lawrence

  To my Emma:

  Jennifer

  Who has been my best friend since the moment we met. You are my soul sister, biggest fan and the one who gets me best.

  I can’t imagine my life without you. And I can’t wait until we are those old ladies.

  Thanks for always getting me and looking beyond my wall.

  Contents

  Prologue

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  17

  18

  19

  20

  21

  22

  23

  24

  25

  26

  27

  28

  29

  30

  31

  32

  33

  34

  35

  36

  37

  38

  39

  40

  41

  42

  43

  44

  45

  46

  47

  48

  49

  50

  51

  52

  53

  54

  55

  56

  57

  58

  59

  60

  61

  62

  Afterword

  Acknowledgments

  Prologue

  Emma:

  I can't believe she thought I wouldn't come here and see her 'marry' her man. We'd only been best friends for over half our lives. I lay staring at the ceiling; now I just need to find her. I thought she was still here, but the guy at the front desk said she checked out a while ago. Tomorrow, I'll call and trick her into telling me where the ceremony is going to be so I can surprise her. I'm smiling, excited to see my girl, as I fall to sleep.

  Aislin:

  "EMMA!" I scream, and when it echoes back to me, I crumble to the ground, once again broken. Turning my face skyward, "Are you listening? Anyone? You can't take her from me. It's too much for you to ask. I lost momma, then hours ago I lost the dad I just found, and now Emma. Help me! If you are listening, please help me find her. Keep her safe. Keep her unbroken." Tears fall down my face.

  1

  EMMA

  The silence wakes me. Growing up in New Orleans, there are always noises. I have never heard such silence. Rolling over, I realize I have no idea where I am. All I am sure of is that I'm not in the hotel room where I fell asleep. Looking around, I'm in a room with no windows; I don't fail to notice the camera in the corner near the door. The tiny red light is flashing, telling me that someone is watching me. I might not have any idea where I am, but I am certain who grabbed me - the mysterious Order that took Aislin.

  My heart pounds at the thought, images of what she described to me running through my head. I'm aware she glossed over what happened to her and I shudder thinking of what might be coming for me. Sitting up, I scoot to the back corner of the room, pulling my knees to my chest. A disembodied voice comes over a hidden speaker, "I'm happy you're finally awake."

  Trying and failing to school my face, my terror is stamped upon my features.

  "Fear not, my girl. I can tell from the look on your beautiful face you are aware that your friend was taken by a member of this organization. The one who had her isn't here; we are not deviants. You are merely here to draw the ones we want to us," the voice continues.

  I raise my chin, pulling a look from my dancer's arsenal, one of disdain. "Please excuse me if I don't take your word for it, but you obviously drugged me and brought me here against my will. In my book, that makes you no better than the one who had my friend."

  My voice is laced with contempt. Silence greets me; I look around my, well, cell. That's what it is - a jail cell, a white cell with nothing but a bed in it. Thinking back to Aislin's story, I'm super grateful I didn't wake tied to a table. I'm no fool though and realize that could happen any moment. I wonder how long I've been here, how long before someone realizes I'm missing. My mom is always busy with my dad and his issues. Unless someone calls her asking about me, she will just assume I'm with Aislin. I didn't tell anyone else, other than the instructors at the studio, and they aren't expecting me back for weeks. This could get very bad. I could be murdered, and no one would even be looking for me. Sitting in the corner, back to the wall, eyes on the door, daddy taught me a lot of things growing up. His post-traumatic stress disorder created a lot of problems for us, but on his good days, he made sure I knew how to take care of myself. Lesson number one was never put your back to a door, and two, keep your eyes on the exits. A tiny, sad smile curves my lips thinking about daddy. Life with a person that suffers from PTSD is difficult, but even though he holds on tight, he loves hard. If anything is going to help me through this, it is going to be the things I learned from him. I'm lost in the memories of the good times with him in the swamp when there is a sound at the door. Years of training has my body reacting before my mind even registers what it is. Like daddy taught me, my body looks relaxed but is coiled, just waiting for an opening. These fools don't have any idea what kind of tiger they done got by the tail. They look at me and just see a petite dancer, not scrappy girl trained to fight by her Marine father.

  The door opens, and the district aroma of coffee hits me. Unlike Aislin, my best friend, I don't have an addiction to the dark elixir. I grew up drinking tea, strong Irish tea. But of course, my captors don't know this about me either; they think American equals coffee. When he enters, he is breathtaking -- tall, well over six feet, golden skin, dark blonde hair that curls at the ends, and bright blue eyes. His eyes remind me of pictures of the icy blue water found in the northern seas. A slight smile is on his face, and I can tell he is trying to put me at ease. And then he speaks, and his accent is difficult to place, but somewhere in the Mediterranean region. His speech is cultured, not like modern slang. I replay everything Aislin told me recently. Thinking about all our revelations, how the things we thought were a myths really aren’t. Giving him a slow once over, I try to discern if he might be one of those things.

  "I brought you coffee. Don't worry, nothing will happen to you here. I'll make sure you are safe." Again, he smiles.

  Softening my face, I hope to convince him I believe his platitudes. Using my sweetest, softest southern drawl, I ask, "Can you help me? Can you free me from here? Why am I even here? All I was doing was going to meet my friend." I blink up at him. Daddy always said my tiny stature and my pixie looks were some of my best weapons, and I intend on using everything in my arsenal. His shoulders relax; he thinks I'm just a helpless girl. Good!

  "My dear, don't worry, they don't want you. Unfortunately, your friend Aislin is who they are after because through her, they can reach the others."

  Gasping, I look up at him. "Is she alright? Has she been taken again?"

  "No, if you would let me finish," his face is gentle and he looks sad. "Your friend fell in with some unsavory characters; it is those men that the people here want. They thought you were the best way to find to them."

  "Oh, well, I can't tell you anything about who she is with now that she is free. She was just on vacation and kidnapped but was saved. Since I was so worried about her, I decided to join her. She felt like she needed time to recover, but I wanted her to come home."
I go on talking, telling him all kinds of meaningless information, talking like a complete airhead, watching to gauge if his patience grows thin. He just smiles sadly and nods throughout my speech, ever so often tilting his head as he listens intently.

  "Yes, well, I must go. I will come back later and bring you food, and we can talk more then. You need to help us find your friend, that way I can save you from this situation." He looks like he wants to do nothing but help. But my daddy didn't raise no fool; this man can't be what he seems. Thank God for years of dancing and having to keep a controlled look no matter what.

  "Do you think I could be given my clothes at least?" as I look down at my boxers and tank. His gaze roams over my body. As his eyes return to mine, there is heat in them as he nods his head yes.

  2

  HIM

  Talking about her plans with her friend while she is being held captive. People like her make me livid. Not a care in the world. No idea of the tragedies that happen around them every moment of the day. My whole life is a tragedy, from the time I was born until today, listening to her drone on about her wonderful life with her stupid BFF, fucking idiots. I'll show her how life is.

  Stalking down the hall, it takes all my control not to go back in that room. I need to make her do what I want. Now that I’m aware that Jason is with her friend, I want to destroy them. Making her mine and turning her against them is the best way to obtain everything I want. She will lead them here and then help me use them before they are killed. Jason will be forced to witness the destruction of everyone he's grown to care for. Sitting down at my desk, I observe her on the monitor, planning on how to win her love.

  3

  JASON

  Pacing the room, I tracked her to a hotel in Edinburgh. Kai and Aislin are downstairs talking to the person at the front desk, which I think is useless. I smell her sweet scent; it is stronger here in the confines of the room. Pungent enough I can tell she uses coconut shampoo and soap. Her perfume is musky, and her personal scent is a blend of Jasmine and something exotic. It has imprinted on my mind and, quite possibly, my soul. If I'm honest, her first tinkling laugh in that bar when Aislin was drunk did that. It rang true and I saw the most beautiful colors in it. Right now, I can smell just a hint of the drug they used on her; my beast rolls beneath my skin. Deep breaths calm me. Finding no clues other than the scent of the ones that held her, I leave. Heading down the hall, I run into Michael; he looks at me, his eyes questioning. I shake my head. Riding the elevator down, I pull at the reins of my control. As we step off, the scent of one of her captors tickles my nose and my head whips around. Eyes narrowed, I scan the crowd. Michael, and now Sean on my other side, are alert, looking around also. Kai is looking our way, his dragon picking up on our mood. Jerking my head right, I start stalking towards the hotel cafe. Drawing in deep breaths, I filter out all but the one scent I'm looking for. The others fan out in case we flush out our prey. Moving through the café, I step out on the sidewalk and turn my head from side to side.

  "Do you sense something?" Aislin's voice tremors, as she grabs my hand.

  "Not exactly, Kukla. I caught his scent, the one that took her from the hotel, but it is fainter here on the crowded street. I could find it easier, but how I do it would cause quite a commotion,” I respond, squeezing her hand.

  "We found out they used a car service. Kai is getting the number so we can call them," Aislin shivers, looking around she is thinking of her own captivity. Kai moves in, drawing her beneath his arm, tucking her close to his side. His lips touch her ear as he murmurs to her, trying to calm her worries. I eavesdrop on his words; he is convinced that Dorran, the one that tortured her, was not like the others in the Order of Sceach or Thorne, Inc, the multinational company they run. The Order, that ancient group of humans intent on obtaining the gifts of the Gods. Of course, thanks to the Morrigan, we learned that the Gods are not Gods at all, but more like aliens. Agreeing with his conclusion that Dorran was an anomaly, a sick and twisted pervert, I doubt the Order is full of sexual deviants.

  Kai raises his head. "I got the number. You should call, Jason. I'm sure you can persuade them to give us the information." Aislin looks at me, her eyes narrowed as she wonders what exactly I am, what those "gods" bestowed upon me. Soon, she will witness all my talents, because I will use everything in my arsenal to reach Emma. Smirking, I dial the number that Kai holds up for me. Time to give everyone a hint of my powers. A young lady picks up on the third ring.

  "Darling, a man used your service a few days ago, pick-up was the Grande. I need the information of where the drop-off was," I say, pouring my power into my voice. The shock on my companions faces as the girl spills her guts makes me want to laugh. The lust rolling through her can be felt over the phone line. "Thank you, beautiful." Using my voice, I send a caress over the phone, and she orgasms as I hang up. Kai is glaring at me as Aislin catches her breath, her eyes unfocused slightly. She didn't quite reach release, but it was close.

  "Holy fucking shit, Jason!" Michael is adjusting himself, and Sean is staring opened mouth.

  Aislin chuckles, fanning herself, "No wonder you are so careful when you talk. Although that could be a lot of fun." That little statement earns me more glares from Kai, as I bark out a laugh.

  "Now, now Kukla, don't tell me the dragon has problems in the bedroom." Swatting my arm, she laughs as she moves into his arms, kissing him with a passion that forces us to look away. He is wearing a satisfied smug look on his face when they finally break apart; she knows just how to soothe the beast.

  "Now, back to business. They were dropped off at a private airstrip on the outskirts of town. We should go there, find out the flight destination, and then start our way there. The plan is to not leave Emma in their hands a second longer than necessary." Once again, eyes are studying me, and I run my fingers through my hair, a nervous habit. I don't like being the center of attention. Spinning, I head to my car, knowing they will follow in Kai's Range Rover.

  4

  EMMA

  I sit on the bed, looking around the bare room, refusing to panic or second guess my trying to reach Aislin in Scotland. True, it is possible that if I had stayed at home in New Orleans, I wouldn't be in this situation. Who’s to say that they wouldn't have come for me there? This seems to be a resourceful group.

  I couldn't stay away. She is my shelter in the storm and then she gets caught in a category five hurricane, and I am supposed to just sit at home. The way that vile man hurt her? NO! I was going to her no matter what. She thinks she is putting it behind her, but I know better.

  Daddy might seem fine for months and then suddenly he is pulling you to the floor, his body shielding you from unseen danger, sweat coating him as he watches the battlefield around him. My father has been lost in his memories too many times for me to believe that my girl is okay.

  But, now what? Here I sit in a white room, and while my captor doesn't seem as deranged as the one that held Aislin, there is something there. My radar is pinging, or as daddy would say Bitching Betty is screaming, and I don't plan to crash into anything. Now is the time to use my brain. Rubbing my eyes, I am suddenly very thankful I had Lasik, so I didn't need my contacts or my glasses. I need to come up with a plan, a course of action.

  Standing, I stretch. I always think better while I dance. The door opens and a hand drops my bag in the door before snapping closed. The lock clicking into place echoes loudly. I look up at the camera and nod my head in thanks, a small smile curving my lips. It is a look Aislin and I perfected long ago in the bars on Bourbon, just enough sweet and sassy to reel the boys in. Crossing, I grab my bag and move to the bed. In seconds, I dig out my soft ballet shoes and my iPod, automatically thumbing through my playlist to pick a good song. I hesitate on a sexy, smoky beat. I glance at the camera and nope, that would be too obvious. I settle on The Prayer by Andrea Bocelli; it always gets to me. Slipping my shoes on, I stretch once more before setting the song on repeat and sliding into movements that are ingrained into my
muscle memory. I'm lost in the music as I flow around the room, and my mind clears, thoughts dancing through it like notes of the music. Some people latch onto their great ideas in the shower, Aislin says her mind whirls like a storm, but mine is like a beautifully choreographed ballet. And so, I dance.

  5

  HIM

  My eyes are riveted to the screen; she is magnificent. I can't look away. Even though I can't hear the song, I can feel it through her movements. Her face is captivating, emotion skating across it as she loses herself in the music. She is dangerous, like a beautiful poisonous flower, drawing you in with her innocent appearance. I had detected her deceptions hidden in her truths. They were hard to catch; she told just enough truth to dilute the lies.