Make Me Burn: Fireborne, Book 2

by R. G. Alexander

  Shev released Aziza from her grip. “I don’t blame you. You cannot help what you are. Who you are. Just as Ram cannot help how he feels about you. He chose his path and I chose mine. Perhaps it was always destined to be this way. I have no fear that I will survive without the link, but Ram is different. Our connection gave him a focus and control he didn’t have on his own. Centered him.” Her eyes narrowed. “But he has already lost his way. Forgotten who he is and what he believes in.”

  “No,” Aziza disagreed, though she was thoroughly shaken by Shev’s words. “No, Ram is better now. He needs a little more time.”

  “Ram is ignoring his oath, his family and his people and playing right into Jiniyr hands,” Shev sneered. “He is so busy pining for you and embracing humanity that he will find himself dead at Enforcer hands before he knows he is being set up.”

  “You agree the Jiniyr are setting him up? Choosing their victims from Underbridge members he’s played with to make him look guilty?”

  “I do.”

  Aziza groaned. “But Ram has no powers. He isn’t my Qarin at the moment. He isn’t a threat to them.”

  Shev looked away again. “If they know you, Aziza, they know how to hurt you. Forcing me out of the equation hurt you. Forcing your lover to kill Ram will hurt you far more and take two of your protectors out of the game. If they are allowed to continue, you won’t be able to save Ram, and for that you will never be able to forgive Brandon.”

  Aziza couldn’t let herself think about that possibility. “Just to hurt me,” she whispered. “They are playing with Ram’s life, killing these women and making it look like a Jinn blood ritual just to hurt me? No. There has to be more to it than that.”

  “How do you know about our rituals?” Shev’s words were razor-sharp. “Did Ram tell you something?”

  Aziza nodded. “He said it looks like they’re practicing. Getting it wrong.”

  Shev’s smile was hard. “So he does still have a brain in his head. Good to know. And you’re right. I believe Ram is just a convenience. A bonus, if you like. Their plans are more complex.”

  “Come back with me, Shev,” she pleaded. “Even if you aren’t linked, you still know him better than I do. Better than anyone. You could talk to him. Better yet, if you can’t talk to someone in charge and tell them I need him to be reinstated, you can find a way to let him see his sister. And you. We can’t leave him to twist in the wind this way.”

  Shev stepped back. “Now is not the time for reunions. Not yet. This tear between us is still too fresh. Seeing me might have the opposite effect on him than the one you’re hoping for. And his sister will never be given permission to see him so long as he remains in exile. She would share his fate or worse, and that would also hurt him. He is far happier tonight than I have seen him in ages, thanks to you. For that you have my gratitude. Let us leave it at that. But you can give him this.”

  She slid the bag from over her shoulder and held it out to Aziza. “They are things that will remind him of who he is and what he loves. His ornamental dagger. His books.” She paused. “A note from his sister.”

  Aziza shook her head, not wanting to take it. “Do you really think a bag of keepsakes is better than seeing either of you in person?”

  “It’s the only way. I can’t stay here any longer. Until I see you again, keep yourself and Ram out of trouble. Oh, and stay on your guard when you finally meet the Enforcer’s Alpha.” She grimaced. “He’s a prick with truly questionable loyalties.”

  “Thanks, interim Qarin.”

  Shev flinched. “Fulfilling my duty doesn’t require your gratitude, Fireborne. Merely your continued existence.”

  The air behind Shev shimmered again, revealing the briefest glimpse of Qaf nightlife before she stepped back through the opening and closed it behind her as if she’d never been.

  Shev was gone.

  Aziza swallowed a self-pitying sob. She’d actually missed her. Missed the wild, playful Jinn who flirted with anyone within a three-mile radius and told her truths when everyone else danced around and force-fed her riddles.

  Aziza picked up the knapsack, which smelled of wild flowers and exotic spices, and sighed. She was tired of losing people. Whatever the reason, despite what Shev had done, she couldn’t imagine another Jinn—a stranger—filling Shev’s shoes. Or Ram’s. She wondered if, now that she knew she could see into Qaf, she could lodge an official complaint in person. Maybe chuck over a lamp with a note inside and see if they could take a joke.

  She was shaking again and hating the silence. She needed a distraction. Needed to find Ram.

  “Reboot, people,” she muttered. “Abra-fucking-cadabra.”

  She instinctively lifted her hands to cover her ears, almost dropping the bag. The world started turning again, bringing with it the sound of the crowds and the music of the club blaring through the restroom door.

  Who needed Jinn? “Wish granted.”

  If only everything were that easy.

  She made her way back to the table with her treasure, noticing that Ram had joined them as she approached. He wore a simple white T-shirt now and a concerned expression on his face. She wanted to go to him, to tell him about Shev. About his sister. But she could tell something must have happened in the few minutes since Mayet’s Witness had turned off. Something horrible.

  When she got within hearing distance, she discovered what it was.

  “Her name was Stacy,” Chiye whispered before she let Greg pull her into his arms. West moved closer to them and laid his hand on his roommate’s shoulder.

  Scotland Yard had finally identified the body Aziza had cradled as the girl had taken her last breath, and the news was sweeping through Underbridge in a painful wave of grief.

  She imagined it would be hard for them. Another member of their community gone. A girl who fit the pattern. No family to mourn her—no one but this tight-knit group of self-proclaimed misfits.

  “Did you know her, West?”

  West squeezed Chiye’s shoulder once more before reaching out to pull Aziza into his arms. Apparently he needed comfort too. Aziza bit her lip hard, distracted by her feelings of guilt and the pain in the dead girl’s eyes, as well as the static shock that zipped up her spine when they touched and his masculine scent—why was it so familiar?

  “Stacy was here before we became members,” he said soberly. “Thoroughly committed to the lifestyle, but even more to this place. She made strudel for the Underbridge picnic a month ago and she was in charge of the upcoming Samhain celebration.” He pulled back and studied Aziza intently. “So, yes, I knew her well enough. Chiye was closer to her than I was. Ram played with her, I think. The regular members have already begun the head count, since the news tonight finally said what we’ve been afraid of since the second body was found. Some sick bastard is definitely targeting women from the club.”

  Ram had played with Stacy. She turned to Ram and their eyes met. “Is it true?”

  “It is.” His expression was solemn as he studied her. “How are you, Aziza? And what’s in the bag?”

  She batted his concern away. Now was not the time for sharing. “It doesn’t matter. I’m fine. My emotions are the last thing we need to be worrying about at the moment.”

  She turned to Greg. “Babe? We need to get Ram home. Now.”

  Greg nodded, but Chiye looked up at that. “You’re leaving?”

  West, his arm still wrapped around Aziza’s shoulders, squeezed her close. “Can I talk to you in private for a minute?”

  She followed him a few steps away from the others and he turned to look down at her. “Aziza Jane, I get that you don’t know us, but Ram does,” he assured her. “He’s comfortable at my place, and Greg and Chiye are currently stuck together like magnets. If Ram and your detective boyfriend don’t get along, I have a feeling his connection with Stacy won’t win him any brownie points. It might be better for everyone if you all just came back with us.”

  “That’s very kind of you. Are you sure?”
Aziza wasn’t sure why, but she trusted West. Even better, as far as she knew, Brandon, Natalie, Fido and their crew didn’t know anything about him, so Ram would be safe for the night. The idea of a group currently sounded a hell of a lot better than a sleepless night alone when she was so emotional, and since Penn was with Hillary there was no reason to say no.

  West smiled. “I am sure. My house is yours, and I could use your help. Chiye has known a lot of loss in her life. She didn’t know Stacy well, but death in general is harder on her than it is on most people. That’s something I believe you can relate to?”

  “I can.”

  “Then it’s settled. We’ll all go home together. Chiye will have company, and you, after that powerful scene you shared with Ram, will have all the comfort you need within arm’s reach.”

  All she needed within arm’s reach. He had no idea how much she needed.

  This could be a bad idea.

  Chapter Seven

  This was a very bad idea, Aziza thought as West took her coat and hung it in the small entry closet.

  How had it happened? How had she ended up in this two-story townhouse in Soho with Greg, Chiye and West…and Ram?

  Because you said yes.

  She was still too shaken up by her scene, by everything that had happened tonight. She should have gone back to the flat, but after her talk with Shev and the news of Ram’s connection to the latest victim, she couldn’t leave him. She wouldn’t leave unless he came home with her, where she could protect him. If anyone mentioned Ram playing at the fetish club with Stacy to the Enforcers, it would convince them once and for all that he was one of the culprits.

  When they got to West’s, she turned on her phone and listened to the message Brandon had left for her. He was checking in, letting her know he was there if she needed him. Not calling him back was harder than she ever thought it would be. She needed him tonight. Wanted his arms around her, to feel safe. Loved.

  But after hearing his sexy, scratchy voice and then smiling at the way he said her name, she knew they would have to talk. About the murders. About Ram and the club, and Stacy. About the things they’d both been hiding from each other. One thing would lead to another and they would each say things they didn’t mean—and maybe some things they did. Then the few days off they were taking could turn into something more serious, more permanent, all because she wanted to hear his voice.

  She wasn’t in the right head space for that right now. She couldn’t think about it. She had to turn the phone off to resist the temptation.

  What did that say about their relationship?

  West studied her intently while the others headed into the living room. “Ram wasn’t exaggerating, was he? About your boyfriend not liking him?”

  She scowled. “No, he wasn’t. And sometimes Brandon can be a beast.”

  “All men are beasts when the right woman comes along to drive us crazy,” West told her with a rueful smile. “I can’t say I blame him for wishing you weren’t friends with Ram. Especially after seeing you two together onstage. The chemistry between you was electrifying. Even us laid-back types could grow a jealous bone with that kind of material.”

  “Preaching to the choir over here.” Greg came up behind her and rubbed her shoulders. “I like this guy, Aziza Jane. He can come to our secret fort anytime he wants. Though his definitely has the cooler toys.”

  She laughed. “It does?”

  Greg took her hand and turned her toward him, nodding. “Guy heaven. Normal guy heaven. Come and see.”

  She took off her shoes and left them in the closet like everyone else had, and then followed Greg down the hall, sliding a little in her socks on the hardwood floors. They passed the stairs that she imagined would take them to the bedrooms and entered the living room, which was crammed with a weight set, a huge flat-screen television and every game system known to man.

  Guy heaven.

  Ram was making himself comfortable in a recliner that she had a feeling he’d claimed as his own long before she’d arrived. The table beside it held three separate game controllers and a remote control. Had her Jinn become a couch potato?

  “I can’t imagine you playing video games,” she said as she watched him lean back.

  “You can’t?” His grin was lazy. “You think we don’t have them where I come from? Let’s see, a scenario where I am following a character and watching over him, or her, guiding them in everything from fighting techniques to clothing to sexual conquests as they level up?” He licked his lips. “Sweet Aziza, we invented video games.”

  Chiye, her eyes still swollen from crying for her friend, laughed at that. “West is the writer, but you wouldn’t know it with the prince over there, would you? Way he tells it, his people invented air.”

  Aziza smirked at Ram. “He might have a little bit of an ego.”

  His thick lashes almost concealed the bright emerald of his eyes. “Nothing about me can be described as little.”

  His expression and the way he said that made Aziza shift and press her thighs together. She still hadn’t recovered—the voice in her head was screaming at her to kneel at his feet and beg for more. She wanted his kisses along her spine. His words…his whip. She even wanted that wretched evil stick.

  Anything, if only someone would touch her.

  “Enough of that now, children.” West tossed Aziza and Greg a ball of clothes. “Change out of your club gear and into something comfortable. Ram and Chiye, you two can fight over tonight’s movie if you like.”

  Greg shook out the shirt and sweatpants that obviously belonged to West. “He’s bossier than I thought, Aziza. Maybe he doesn’t get secret-fort privileges.”

  “He does.” She smiled at him as she headed upstairs in search of a bathroom first, the bag from Shev and her purse still clutched under her arm. He definitely did. West’s presence alone made her feel better. Less shaky. Like everything was going to be okay. It was a strange talent for such a sensual man to possess. West emanated serenity. When was the last time she’d felt that? When was the last time she‘d done this? It did seem normal. And normal had been a while.

  An image of the stunning, bald Jinn man pounding his hips against his partner popped into her head. She hadn’t thought she’d enjoy watching so much. It reminded her of Brandon. How much he loved to take her that way. How the painful stretch only added to her pleasure as he growled like the beast he was and claimed her in the most primal of ways. Remembering how swiftly the Jinn’s hips had been moving, she couldn’t help wondering, not for the first time, how what she did with Brandon would feel with Ram.

  She didn’t want normal. She didn’t want to sit and watch a movie while Ram sat across the room in a recliner and Brandon wasn’t beside her. Her mind was restless. Her skin was aching to be touched. To be held and bitten.

  Aziza stuck her tongue out at herself in the mirror. “Too bad, you can’t have that tonight.”

  She stripped off her outfit with swift efficiency and put on the oversized T-shirt covered in animated characters, along with the hip-hugging black sweatpants. She smiled at the lightheartedness of the outfit. Her reflection suddenly looked young, like an adolescent who didn’t have a care in the world and wasn’t at a stranger’s house, in subdrop with the potential to lose it at any minute.

  She walked out of the bathroom and straight into Ram’s arms.

  Aziza licked her lips, focusing on keeping her breathing even. “Weren’t you supposed to be arguing with Chiye?”

  Ram shrugged. “I let her win. I have a soft spot for the girl. She’s sweet and she’s had a hard night. Besides, I’ve already gotten my prize. Remember?”

  “Oh.” She remembered.

  “Can we talk for a minute, you and I? About what happened between us?”

  Aziza shifted uncomfortably. She didn’t want to dissect it. Didn’t want to talk. “I think we’re all up to speed on that, aren’t we? We had a scene together. We put on a hot show for the peeping masses, though from what I hear it was only a
tease compared to your usual. But it was enough to bond with the Kewpies. Mission accomplished.”

  Ram moved closer, backing her against the wall. “Was that all it was, Aziza? A show? A mission? I know that’s what we told each other and ourselves, but I was up close and personal to the event. You responded to me perfectly and we were connected in a way I’ve never experienced, but then you left without allowing me to do my job.”

  “Your job?”

  He smiled as he brushed a strand of her hair off her forehead. “Taking care of you. Jinn rarely experience the emotional backlash humans do, but I find I quite enjoy the closeness they need and I hear I’m pretty good at the aftercuddling. I’d love your opinion.”

  I’d love more than cuddling…and so would he.

  Slammed by a new wave of need and desperation, Aziza pasted on a saucy smile and slid her hands around his hips to squeeze his ass. “You want me to sit on your lap and cry and tell you about my feelings? About how my abandonment issues are soothed by the dominant lash of your whip? That you’re the ‘Daddy’ I’ve been looking for? Or can we skip all that psychobabble and fuck? You know that’s where we’re heading.”

  “No, Aziza.” He shook his head, watching her with an expression of concern. But he didn’t move away. “That isn’t where this is heading. Not tonight. I won’t take advantage of you in this state. I won’t be your regret.”

  She huffed out a laugh. “That is rich, isn’t it? You had no problem taking advantage of me when I thought you were a dream. No problem taking advantage of my epically bad, wine-induced decision-making skills in the stables. But when I offer, when I need more satisfaction, you back away?”

  She was truly messed up. How else could she explain her bipolar behavior? A minute ago she’d been wishing Brandon were here. Missing him and needing him to hold her. Now she was taunting Ram and offering him something that would ensure she’d lose the Enforcer forever.

  You need Ram.

  She needed therapy.

  She tried to move past him. “Ignore me. It’s been a strange night and I need to tell you about it, but first I might need a drink or five.”