Pyromancist

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Pyromancist Page 7

by Charmaine Pauls


  She still went down, but not with the jaw-breaking thump she’d expected. It was Josselin’s body that covered hers once more. He dragged her to the far wall, and pushed her body tight against the cold bricks with his. He had his hand in her hair. It was a firm grip, but it didn’t hurt. Pinching her eyes shut, she refused to look into his face.

  She could feel his lips brush over the lobe of her ear, his warm breath as he whispered, “Don’t ever run from me. Don’t make me come after you.”

  A shiver ran over her body at the menacing undertone she heard in his voice, and then the noise of a helicopter broke through the air.

  “Yes, permission to fire,” Josselin said into his mic. There was a short pause. “Fuck. Did you get a visual?” He listened to the reply. “We’re coming out. Wait until we’re mobile and circle around. See if you can pick up the shooter.”

  Josselin lifted Clelia in his arms and carried her outside. Lann and Maya flanked them.

  “Maya, scan for explosives.”

  Maya ran ahead with something she pulled from a big bag on her shoulder. It looked like a handheld metal detector. She flicked a button and did a quick search of the SUV before she nodded at Josselin. He helped Clelia into the vehicle and took the seat next to her, sheltering her under his arm. Lann sat opposite them and Maya took the driver’s seat. They each knew exactly which position to take. They appeared to function like a well-oiled machine.

  Josselin addressed the Russian. “Assessment?”

  “Like you said. Sharpshooter,” Lann said. His voice was velvety and calm, but he appeared stressed. “We better warn Cain.”

  “We didn’t have any fucking intelligence of an attack,” Maya said over her shoulder, starting the engine and taking a dirt trail that led to the village.

  “Bono,” Josselin said, “are we clear?”

  “Either we were the targets,” Lann said, “or he was after someone else.” He looked pointedly at Clelia.

  Josselin’s arm tightened around Clelia’s body. She was shaking uncontrollably. Even her teeth were chattering. She couldn’t decide if she was hot, or cold, or both. She stared at Josselin, frightened, feeling out of control.

  “Easy now.” Josselin rubbed her arms. “You’re all right. It’s the shock.”

  “Where are we going?” Maya said, glancing at them in the rearview mirror.

  “D11.” Josselin wiped a hand over his face. “Bono, take her down in ten. If we don’t have a tail on our killer by then, he’s gotten away. Too many holidaymakers to use infrared. We’ll run the satellite recording later, see if we can nail anyone with a weapon. Maya, brief Cain on our status. He’s coming in by helijet. He needs to know we’re exposed before he crosses French airspace. Lann, set up a safe house before Cain arrives. Maya, we’ll need to shift our ground base to the safe house as soon as Lann has secured a new location.”

  “I’m on it,” Lann said.

  “The locals are going to go ape shit,” Maya said. “What are we going to tell the press? If this comes out, our operation is compromised. Can we cover it up?”

  “I’ll handle the media,” Josselin said. “Can you keep your asses clear until we have a new safe house?”

  Maya snorted. “I should kick your ass just for asking that. What about you ... and her?”

  “I’m taking her someplace secure until it’s safe to move.”

  The van suddenly came to a halt where the road split to Carnac. Clelia tried to look out of the darkened windows of the vehicle to get a sense of where they were heading. It wasn’t that she needed to know where she was, she needed to ground herself with something concrete. She was still shaking, and it wasn’t just from her damp clothes. So many things assaulted her mind that she couldn’t think.

  It was Maya who spoke. “You know what to do, Joss.”

  Clelia got the uneasy impression that Maya was talking about her from the way they all stared at her.

  “I’m not pulling a bag over her head,” Josselin said, “not with what just happened.”

  “It may be your territory, but your protective behavior of the China doll is questionable, not to mention that she’s going to get us killed,” Maya said.

  “Japanese,” he hissed. “Not Chinese. And another word from you and you’re back in the office doing admin. Permanently. Am I clear?” Josselin said.

  Maya pursed her lips. “Like crystal.”

  “Take this,” Lann said. He held out a hypodermic needle in the palm of his hand.

  Clelia was battling to follow the conversation. It was as if her mind wasn’t capable of processing words or deciphering sentences. But when Josselin took the needle and removed his arm from around her body, shifting so that he pinned her into the corner, a cold fear made her body break out in a comprehending sweat.

  “No,” she whispered through dry lips, suddenly understanding that whatever was in the needle was meant for her.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, taking her arm and pushing the needle into her skin.

  The last thing she remembered was the feeling of his thumb brushing over her palm.

  Chapter Six

  If a crate of pinching crabs had been dropped on her head, she would have felt better. Clelia woke in the dark, her body aching and her mouth so dry she battled to move her tongue. Besides feeling nauseous, she was disorientated, and her first thought was that she’d been sleepwalking again. Fighting her own body, she willed her eyes to open, but her eyelids were stuck, and so were her legs and arms. Panic was a tide that washed up in her throat with another wave of sickness as she imagined herself confined in a very dark coffin, buried alive. The sound that tore through her throat sounded like someone else’s voice, and instead of bouncing off the sides of the box that held her like she thought it should, it was no more than a muffled scream.

  “Open your eyes, Clelia,” a voice said, blowing over her face.

  “Don’t bury me,” she cried, “don’t bury me alive.”

  She heard a curse and felt something touch her–warm hands on her arms, the tickle of hair on her shoulders and face.

  “You’re in a room, on a bed. Come on now, little witch. Open your eyes for me.”

  Slowly, the thick layer of soil that had seemed to trap her, lifted, and she managed to peel her eyelids from her sockets, blinking, feeling an enormous sense of relief when they started to focus. It was dark, but not so much that she couldn’t make out Josselin’s face. He knelt beside her, his big body hovering over her. It didn’t come back to her slowly; it hit her like springtide in the face.

  “Where am I?” she said, trying to sit up.

  Josselin had to help her. “Someplace safe. Here.” He reached behind him in the dark and folded her hand around something cold that he brought to her mouth.

  When she tasted the water, she drank greedily until the glass was empty. He refilled it from a decanter and gave it back to her with two tablets that he held on the palm of his hand.

  “What’s that?” she said, looking at the pills, the sound more of a croak than words.

  “Aspirin. Your body will be dehydrated from the drug I gave you. You should have a headache.”

  She did ache. Everywhere. She allowed him to place the pills in her mouth and swallowed them with the remainder of the water.

  “Better?” he said.

  “No.” She shook her head.

  “The tranquilizer was too strong. As it wasn’t exactly planned, I couldn’t adjust the dose for your body weight. I didn’t inject it all, but it still knocked you out good. You’ll feel better in a while.”

  “This can’t be legal. You kidnapped me.”

  He took back the glass and deposited it on a bedside table. Clelia rubbed at her arms.

  “No, it’s not legal,” he said, surprising her with his honesty.

  “What’s the meaning of this?”

  “You know what I want.”

  “You want Erwan.”

  “I need to question you both.”

  “I’ll never say or do
anything that could bring him harm. Even if I knew where Erwan was, I wouldn’t tell.”

  He studied her for a bit. “And I’ll never expect you to. I won’t ask you to betray him.”

  “And you think he’ll come to you if you keep me?” she said, as the insight suddenly hit her.

  “Exactly.”

  “He’s innocent.”

  “Forensic experts found his DNA all over the crime scenes.”

  “And as I told your female agent, or soldier, or whatever you call her, he went to all the sites. Everyone did.”

  “Not everyone’s DNA is on every scene, Clelia.” It sounded like a gentle reproach.

  “It doesn’t mean a thing.”

  “Maybe not, but you know as well as I do that magic has existed in our village for as long as our standing stones.”

  Clelia’s throat contracted. “Magic?”

  “Come on, little witch, you know there are a lot of people from these parts who hide their ... true talents.”

  She shivered. “I wish you’d stop calling me that.”

  “What? Witch? Why? It’s not an insult. On the contrary...”

  “It brings back unpleasant memories.”

  He straightened abruptly. “I’m not particularly sensitive to sentiments. I had no idea.”

  Of course, he had no idea. He never witnessed the teasing and the name-calling at school. He was too busy making out with all the beautiful girls to notice a child, a castaway outsider.

  “Who are you, Josselin?”

  “You don’t remember me?” He lifted a mocking brow. “I thought you said you knew who I was.”

  “You know what I mean. What do you have to do with this investigation?”

  “Do you want the truth, or a sugarcoated version that won’t strip you of your belief in the safety of your world? I could tell you something you want to hear, or give you reality. Most people go for the first option. And those who unwisely choose the second, always regret it, and always end up in denial.”

  She shivered. “I want the truth.”

  He shrugged. “As you wish.”

  “Wait a minute,” she said as a thought hit her. “Will you have to kill me if I know the truth?”

  An unreadable expression passed over his face. “Kill you? No, Clelia, I won’t kill you.” He paused. “Not for knowing the truth.”

  Clelia’s chest tightened. So, he would kill if needed.

  “No one will believe you, anyway,” he continued. “According to records, we don’t even exist. From our side, there’s really nothing to worry about, at least not from you.”

  That statement hurt just a little, to know she was considered so unimportant that whatever she said wouldn’t be taken seriously.

  “Well, then there’s no reason for you to hold back,” she said, lifting her chin.

  His smile was almost mocking. “I don’t want to shatter your reality, so let’s just say that I’m heading a special taskforce. We’ve been commissioned to investigate the ... arson.”

  “Special taskforce?”

  “We investigate crimes that regular police can’t solve with the normal means at their disposal. You can say that we’re kind of a last resort. We get called in when everything else fails, when the physical laws of nature don’t explain or support the facts.”

  She now understood why he had referred to magic. The fires weren’t simple arson. Her fears may not have been unfounded, after all. She tried hard not to give in to panic.

  “Like in unnatural crimes, you mean?” she asked weakly, glad that the physical lethargy she felt masked her anxiety.

  “The phrase we use is paranormal crime.”

  “And you believe Erwan and I are involved?”

  “I haven’t yet come to any conclusions. That’s why I need Erwan. I need answers from him. Right now, he’s the only person who can give me the answers I’m after.”

  “What makes you think that he can give you any answers?”

  “For starters, there are the rumors about your mother. You have to admit, it’s too big a coincidence to ignore.”

  Playing dumb, she said, “What rumors?”

  He gave her a reproachful look. “You know the answer to that, but I’ll play along with your game. There were rumors that she started spontaneous fires, just like the ones destroying your village.”

  “You believe a firestarter is involved?” she said.

  He cocked his head. “You know the answer to that, beautiful witch.”

  How much did he know exactly? If she told them it was her they were after, confessed her possible sins, would they give up their search for Erwan? Would they stop chasing her grandfather? Erwan didn’t deserve any of this.

  “Maybe it’s me you’re after,” she said, fear for the consequences of her confession tightening her throat. “Maybe I’m the one you want, not Erwan.”

  He clicked his tongue. “I knew you’d take that approach, and it’s very saintly, but I know it wasn’t you. I’ve tasted your blood. I could tell.”

  His words confused her. All that mattered was Erwan.

  “Please,” she said, grabbing hold of the lapels of his coat, “leave Erwan alone.”

  He stilled. He looked at where her hands rested on his chest, and just when she thought he was going to tell her to get her hands off him in some rude manner, he cupped her hands and gently moved them back to her sides.

  “Better not touch me if you don’t like getting burned.”

  “I’m sorry my touch offends you so,” she bit out.

  His eyes flashed. “Offend is the wrong choice of words. I’ll rephrase it for you. Don’t play with fire.”

  Even more confused now, Clelia simply stared at him. She wasn’t sure what he meant. All she wanted was to get Erwan off the hook somehow. None of this was his fault. He shouldn’t have to run, or hide. She could confess her past, her own fire starting, her fear that she was to blame for the fires. If she told the truth, what would he do with her?

  “What happens when you catch your criminals?” she asked cautiously.

  “It depends. Each case is unique. There is no given set of laws that applies to all cases. Each one has to be evaluated considering all facts involved. Our job is to solve the crime, not to make judgment. That’s reserved for people with better morals than me.”

  A shiver ran up and down her spine.

  “You need to get warm, and dry,” he said. “How are your eyes? Are they still sensitive, or can I switch on the light?”

  “They’re fine.”

  He flicked on a bedside light. In the yellow glow that washed over him, she could see the darkness under the very light gray of his eyes, broad swatches like the strokes of a brush, underlining his tiredness. She thought of the night before, of his despair, and of their kiss, and her heart squeezed. She thought about what Erwan had said about Josselin’s new woman. Did it mean that Erwan was wrong? That Josselin came here only to solve a mystery and not to bring home a new wife?

  “So Maya and Lann are the other team members?”

  “Forget their names.”

  “Why did you come back?”

  He sighed. “For someone who’s just been through a hell of a traumatic morning, you talk too much.”

  “Did you come back only to investigate the fires, or also to ... come home?”

  His look shifted. Instinctively she moved back.

  “Why would you ask that?” he said.

  “Maya.”

  “What about Maya?”

  “People say...”

  He lifted an eyebrow. “What do people say?”

  “That you’re together.”

  “Maya?” He chuckled. “And you would care?”

  Clelia felt her cheeks flush. “Of course not. I’m trying to figure out how the puzzle fits together.”

  “Of course not,” he said, repeating her words, and then his face and his expression closed, making it impossible for her to read him.

  “Is she your lover?”

  He f
rowned. “I see this village hasn’t changed.”

  “No, some things don’t change,” she said, feeling sad for the truth of the words. She hugged herself. His eyes followed the movement.

  “I’ve removed your boots,” he said. He moved slowly, sitting down on the edge of the bed. He ran a broad hand over the bridge of her foot and lifted it.

  “Where did these come from?” He fingered one of the cuts from the thorns that had dug into her skin.

  She pulled her leg self-consciously to free herself from his grip and he allowed her toes to slip through his fingers, but he wasn’t letting the question go so easily.

  “Why are you cut up?” he said gravely.

  Clelia moved all the way to the headboard of the bed. “I didn’t wear the right shoes when I walked through a field,” she said.

  “You should take better care of yourself. Are you still roaming the woods alone?”

  When she didn’t answer, he scowled. “You’re still damp and probably bruised from our unfortunate adventure. You need a warm bath.”

  He got up and opened the door to an adjoining bathroom. Soon she heard water running. When he came back, she was trying to stand up, but failing miserably.

  “Your strength will return. The weakness is temporary,” he said. “I’m sorry I had to do this to you. It was for your own protection.”

  He crossed the floor, picked her up and carried her to the bathroom. Clelia tried hard not to squirm in his arms. His proximity was disconcerting.

  “If Maya were here she could have assisted you, but I’m afraid I’m all you’ve got.” He lowered her to her feet but kept his hands around her waist, testing to make sure that she wasn’t going to fall. “Will you manage, or shall I help you?”

  Clelia was sure her face was as red as it was hot. For a second she saw an amused look drift across his harsh features.

  “You have been naked with a man before, haven’t you?”

  Clelia felt her cheeks inflame even further, infuriated by his question and the fun he was clearly making of her now.

  “That’s none of your business.”

  “I see,” he said, looking both fascinated and surprised. “Well, do you need my help?”

  She shook her head. “I’ll be fine.”

 

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