by Ashley Meira
“Yes.” He didn’t miss a beat.
“Just because you can afford—”
“It’s not about the money.” He took my hand. His skin was like fire, sending a searing heat down my arm. “I like you.”
“You like my magic,” I insisted.
“It’s a bonus.” His free hand slid into my hair. I leaned into his touch, unable to resist the pleasure it brought. My nose bumped against his chin, and I felt him smile against my skin. His lips grazed my ear. “But I’d still like you without the magic.”
“If I didn’t have magic, you wouldn’t have thought to hire me.” I was rambling, but if I didn’t, I might do something else with my mouth. Something I wasn’t sure I’d regret. “Because Symeon wouldn’t hav—”
“You’re rambling.” His nose grazed mine, his breath ghosting over my skin. Our lips brushed. My heart was about to burst from my chest. “Sophia—”
A loud shriek rang out. I jumped to my feet and whipped out a knife. A young man was kneeling before a pretty blonde woman, a diamond ring in his hands. Tears were streaming down her cheeks as she nodded rapidly. The room broke into applause. Relaxing, I sat down and clapped.
Adam laughed and wrapped a muscular arm around me. “This is what you do when I say not to bring a sword?”
I slipped the dagger back into my boot. “This isn’t a sword.”
“You’re great.” He nuzzled me, tickling my skin, before pressing a kiss against my cheek. I liked that too much. It needed to stop.
“I have a knife.”
He pulled back enough to look at me with those brilliant gray eyes. “Tell me to stop.”
I wanted to, but all I could think about was the feel of his hands and lips. My Fire hummed in approval. He was keeping his magic locked up, so what the hell did it care what was going on? Freakin’ traitor.
“Now, are you going to order dessert, or do I need to get you drunk first?” he said softly, his eyes dropping to my lips.
“Cake is fine,” I breathed. “Chocolate lava— You’re breathing my air.”
“Sorry.” He chuckled. I chugged half my drink while he called Laurent and ordered lava cake along with his “usual tarte Tatin.”
“Apple tart?”
“Mhm.” He still had an arm around my shoulder, and I tried not to notice how warm he was. “I always get the tarte Tatin when I come here.”
“Long time customer?”
“Yes. Damien and I grew up all around Europe, but my mother loved Bordeaux, so we eventually settled here. This was her favorite restaurant.”
Was? “Is that why your father kept bringing you here despite your drinking problem?”
He chuckled into my hair. “Damien had just turned sixteen. In France you can have beer and wine at that age. But our dad hates beer — thinks it’s undignified. So we made it our mission to love it.”
“Your poor mother. Watching her sons become alcoholics right before her eyes.”
He snorted. “She said she would rather have us drink in front of her than behind her back.” His smile faded away, leaving him with a pensive, faraway look. He licked his lips. “What about you? Didn’t you enjoy annoying your parents at that age?”
The question hit me like a sucker punch. I stuttered out a few sounds but couldn’t answer.
His arm left my shoulder. “I didn’t mean to—”
“Mom was a knife thrower. Dad was a lion tamer. Not people you want to piss off,” I finally forced out, my heart racing. I squeezed my glass to hide my trembling fingers.
Adam pursed his lips, nodding along slowly. “Is that so?”
“Could be.” They could also be power-hungry psychopaths locked in the Black Citadel. Or dead. Maybe they were looking for me…. Because they were the ones who locked me in that castle in the first place.
I grabbed my drink and downed what was left of it. Adam’s hand engulfed mine, and he pulled me closer. Even under his grip, my hands shook.
“Do you want another drink?” he asked softly.
“I want you to let go.” He was the one who brought all this up. I needed to keep my distance from him anyway. Do the job, then leave.
“No, you don’t,” he said, but moved away. I blamed the iciness crawling up my spine on the A/C.
I flagged a nearby waiter and asked for another drink. My stomach was churning, but I figured I could drink past that. I might not have known a thing about my parents, but I knew they didn’t raise a quitter.
My Fire had grown sullen at the lack of contact, but now it was flaring back to life at the feel of his magic. He’d begun letting it out after the waiter left, sending soft tendrils against my hair. Pine and vanilla encircled me. But instead of teasing me like usual, it was soft and comforting. A delicate caress tickled my cheek, like a soft kiss. I forced my own magic out to block it before it could touch my skin. I appreciated the concern, but not enough to absorb his magic and damn myself to a lifetime in hell.
“I’m usually a lot smoother on dates,” he said with a soft smile. “Promise.”
“You go on a lot of dates?”
“A few. This one’s definitely my favorite, though.”
I scoffed. “Laying it on a bit thick, aren’t you?”
His magic pressed against mine until it was right against the surface of my skin. I hit the seat, my cheek bouncing off the creamy leather. His magic pulled back, but I swore I could feel it laughing. Yes, laughing. If anyone could make their magic laugh, it’d be a preening firebird.
My Fire relished the tug of war, but I didn’t care beyond shoving his magic away. Which I did. Hard. Hard enough for him to physically move back.
“Damn.” He let out a soft whistle. “Very powerful.”
“Very annoyed,” I said, sitting up. “I’ll be very glad once I get the Heart back. Then we can finally part ways.”
“We live in the same city. My brother’s gallery is around the corner from your favorite cafe—”
“I’ll move,” I said, thanking the waiter for my new drink. I wasn’t getting through this evening sober.
“No, you won’t.” We lapsed into silence as he regarded me carefully. After a few minutes, he said, “My father proposed here.”
My eyes widened, and I almost drowned in my drink. “You’re not—”
“No.” He snorted. “I like you. I’m not crazy.”
“Oxymoron,” I coughed out.
“Does that make me crazy in—”
“Your parents got engaged here, huh?” I said quickly. “Let’s talk about that.” And not mention the L word at all. Even as a joke.
“Right in this booth actually,” he said, chuckling at my reaction. Jerk. “The waiter had just brought my mother her favorite dessert, tarte Tatin. Then my father got down on one knee and proposed. Told her she was the best thing in his life, and he didn’t want to live without her.” He frowned, his eyes taking on a hard glint. “Promised he’d never make her cry.”
“And everyone lived happily ever after?”
His teeth were bared, but it wasn’t a smile. “My mother died a few years ago. Cancer. She was happy before that though. I hope.”
I wished I knew how to control my magic enough to comfort him the way he’d done for me. Touching him felt like the worst thing I could do to myself. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to let go. But this wasn’t about me. Scooting closer, I took his hand.
He chuckled ruefully, covering my hand with his. “Careful. People might think you’re getting soft.”
“You want me to let go?”
“Never.”
I scoffed. “Keep piling it on, and I’ll need to get a shovel.”
He gave me a gentle smile, warmth seeping back into his demeanor. “It’s not because I can’t have you.”
My brows furrowed.
“At the gallery. You said I only want you because I can’t have you.” The storm in his eyes had calmed. “That’s not true.”
“My apologies for the delay,” Laurent said, sweeping in with a t
ray full of food. “Dinner is served.”
I had to cover my mouth to keep the drool from slipping out. The tantalizing aroma from the food being placed before me was the most amazing thing I’d ever smelled in my entire life. And yes, I was counting the sixteen years I couldn’t remember. It even smelled better than Adam. Almost.
I was shaking with restraint by the time Laurent wished us, “Bon appétit.” He’d taken less than two steps before I grabbed the nearest spoon and dug into my soup. An audible moan escaped my lips at the taste of bubbling cheese. Being Fireborn had its perks, and not having to wait for food to cool down was one of them.
Small talk came easier after my third cocktail. Adam turned out to be an easygoing guy once we got to talking. Turned out that underneath that overbearing, smug firebird facade was a charming, overbearing, smug man. He was interesting too, despite my best efforts to unmask him as the most boring man alive.
I’d been ready to redouble my efforts in finding his flaws when dessert came. But one bite of the molten chocolate, and I forgot everything.
“Like it?” he asked, his eyes darkening as he watched me lick a drop of chocolate off my thumb.
“It’s okay,” I said through a thick mouthful. “Fine. It’s amazing.”
His voice was a soft purr, like a content cat. “Now, if only I could get you to say that about me.”
“Should’ve ordered more cake,” I muttered as Adam walked me back to my room. His family’s estate was bigger than my neighborhood, so I needed a guide back. My eyes glanced over the high ceilings and wide hallways. He lived in a literal castle. Four people did not need a place this big.
Adam chuckled, keeping a firm grip on my waist. “You want to go back?”
My Fire crackled, and it sounded suspiciously like, “Adam would look good covered in chocolate.” I tried to shrug the thought off, but it lingered, the picture getting more vivid with each step. By the time we reached my door, he was an entire dessert trolly.
“You’re drooling,” he said.
“Thinking about cake.” I leaned against the door. “Thank you for dinner. It was fun.”
“Yeah.” He smiled warmly. “It’s nice to be normal once in a while.”
“Normal?” He was uber rich and filled with powerful, ancient magic. I was the big bad boogeyman under every mage’s bed. “We’re not normal.”
He leaned forward, his arms bracing against the door and caging me in. His eyes were dark. Powerful magic crackled behind them like the perfect storm. Powerful, seductive, ruthless. Pine-scented magic rolled across my body, bumping against the magic I’d sent out as a barrier. His nose buried itself under my jaw, and a hot, wet tongue slid along the tendon on my neck.
“You taste even better than your magic,” he growled.
“I don’t know what you mean,” I breathed. Yeah, breathing. That was getting difficult. My hands gripped his shoulders and slid into his hair. It was even softer than it looked. I darted my tongue out, swiping against his lips. “Apples.”
“The tart,” he said against my neck.
I bit back a moan. “I know. Your magic smells like the forest.”
“The forest?”
“Mhm.” I pressed my body against his, basking in the warmth. Vanilla coated the roof of my mouth. “Tastes like vanilla.”
“Chocolate and vanilla. We’re a perfect match.”
I groaned, frustrated with both his corny joke and this tortured foreplay. But I didn’t pull him closer. I couldn’t. I was already suffering from very poor judgement. Backing up was the smartest idea. Backing up was what I had to do.
His hands cupped my backside, lifting me. My legs wrapped around his waist as I tightened my grip on his hair. He closed his eyes, groaning at the pressure. The sound riled me up more than his magic.
“This is….” Wonderful. Amazing. Perfect. “Bad.”
“Why?” he breathed, eyes heavy with lust.
“You’re dangerous.”
“So are you.” He kissed the corner of my mouth. “I’m strong enough to handle it. Sophia, it’s okay—”
I crushed his lips to mine, swallowing his words whole. His tongue plunged into my mouth, hard and demanding — challenging. I called him on it. The magic he’d been restraining was free, wild. My panic at keeping it away from my skin forced my magic further against his, and our magic merged together like a rapturous hurricane. The ocean that had dropped on me the first time we met was back. But I didn’t want to run this time. I wanted to drown in it, in him, and never come back for air.
The doorknob hit my back. The pain barely registered, but it was enough to bring me back to my senses.
Unwrapping my legs from his waist, I pushed him away. Our chests were heaving, and our faces were flushed. Red was a good look on him. So were swollen lips and hooded eyes.
“I’m not,” I whispered, fumbling with the door knob.
I slipped into the room. As the door clicked shut, my knees finally gave out. I slid to the floor. Without his body against mine, the air felt like ice. I buried my face between my knees.
“I’m not strong enough.”
Chapter Twelve
“You went on a date with Adam Pierce?!” Fiona screeched.
“Shut up,” I hissed. “He’s in the next room!”
“Of his jet,” she said. “He’s in the next room of his jet that he used to fly you to freakin’ France to take you on a date!” A cacophony of squeals followed her statement.
I paced around the bedroom of Adam’s jet, regretting ever calling her. “Dinner. It was just dinner.”
“What’d you have? Wait, no. What did you talk about. Tell me everything!”
“He had the steak, and I had soup with clams. Then we had dessert.”
She gasped.
“Actual dessert. Cake and a tart.”
She gasped again. “You cheated on Ollie. He’s going to kill you if he finds out you’ve been eating other people’s cake.”
I rolled my eyes. “He is not—”
“Tell me everything, or I tell the goblin.”
“Ollie’s only half—”
“Sophia…something Sinclair!”
“Nice.”
“Do you want me to give you a middle name? ‘Cause I’ll do it. I’ll do it right now!”
“Fiona, focus!” I winced at my volume. I’d told her I didn’t call last night because I’d gone out with Adam. After eight years, you’d think I’d know better. “I found something at the temple.”
By the time I finished filling her in on everything that had happened since leaving Santa Fae, her enthusiasm had died out.
“Do you really think he suspects?” she asked, voice cracking.
“Yes. No.” I sat on the bed with a groan. “He suspects something, but I don’t know if it’s that.”
“I’d tell you not to poke the bear— Sorry, freakin’ phoenix!” she squealed.
“Fiona, focus.”
“Come on. Tell me that’s not cool. His brother’s a dragon and he’s a phoenix. Oh my gosh,” she breathed. “Sophia, a dragon and a phoenix.”
“I know. That’s what I told you.” I went to the window and saw the white peaks of the Pyrenees through the clouds. “I think we’re close—”
“Sophia.” The fear in her words made me pause. “A dragon and a phoenix.”
“Yeah—” Terror sent my heart slamming into my ribs. A dragon and a phoenix. My thigh burned. “Our brand.”
“It’s a coincidence, right?” she said, her voice trembling even more. “It has to be a coincidence.”
“It could be,” I said slowly. “But Adam Pierce shows up out of the blue requesting me and finds out I have magic; the item he’s looking for is covered in magic from our past; he and his brother shift into the two creatures on our brand….”
“When you put it that way….” she stammered. “But there’s still a chance, right? Dragons and phoenixes are both credited with being the founders of all magic. It’s got to be a pretty common th
ing.”
“Maybe,” I said, trying to convince both of us. “How am I supposed to play this? I considered killing them both when we were in Damien’s gallery, but I wasn’t sure I could take them.”
She scoffed, but it felt forced. “You’ve taken on a herd of rampaging unicorns. Everything else is a cakewalk.”
“We do not talk about that day.” I shuddered. “Ever.”
There was a knock at the door. Adam peeked his head in, and I took a step back. He raised a brow. Could he really be involved with the man who took us? He didn’t seem like it, but I never discounted that he could be a really good actor. In fact, I’d spent hours convincing myself he was. That he didn’t care — he was acting because he wanted something.
“We’re about to touch down. Helicopter’s already waiting.”
I had to stay calm. “Okay, I’ll be right there.”
“Be careful, Soph,” Fiona said. “You may actually have to bring the mountain down on him.”
“I liked that idea better when it was a joke.” I grabbed my jacket and followed Adam outside. “It’s snowing.”
“Cold?” she asked.
I rolled my eyes. “Who am I?”
“My sister,” she said sweetly, “who can kick some serious ass when she needs to. And when she doesn’t need to. Watch out for him, okay? I’ll see if I can find anything on my end.”
“Don’t dig too deep.” A family like the Pierces could get rid of her without anyone noticing. The very thought made me sick.
“Wait! One more thing. Super important,” she said seriously. “Did you two kiss?”
“Urgh!” I turned off the ring and stomped toward the helicopter, ignoring Adam’s bemused look.
The snow made visibility difficult, but the pilot had no problem taking us up. Fortunately, I didn’t need to see magic in order to track it. I’d picked up the trail ten minutes ago but was still looking out the window to avoid Adam.
Phantom pain made my thigh itch, but I didn’t want Adam to see me scratch it. Just in case. The evil magic I’d woken up in had been powerful. As powerful as Adam’s, maybe even stronger. But it hadn’t held any trace of his magic, nor did he carry any trace of it. Still, that didn’t mean he wasn’t involved.