Firebinders: Marek (The Firebinders Book 1)

by Isobelle Cate

  “A chance I’ll have to pass.” Her lips curved in regret. She placed her hand back on his chest if only to burn his warmth into her memory. “Thanks for the offer though.”

  He exhaled, nodding. “Then at least let me accompany you to the lobby then we can go our separate ways.”

  She didn’t hesitate this time. It was the least she could do. “All right.”

  Marek waited by the door while she entered the room to grab her purse. She gave a long drawn out breath while she cursorily checked the room to make sure she hadn’t left anything behind. The space between them gave her time to gather her wits about her. She gave herself one last perusal in the wardrobe’s full length mirror, still trying to smoothen out the creases on her skirt.

  “You already look beautiful without having to resort to a mirror, Gwen.”

  She blushed. “Easy for you to say when you have fresh clothes to change into.”

  Her belly fluttered when his eyes skimmed down her body.

  “I wasn’t talking about the clothes.”

  “Oh.” Okay, her panties were officially wet.

  They didn’t speak inside the elevator. That didn’t mean that she was not having a hard time keeping her unrestrained thoughts in check or begging her pulse rate to slow down.

  “Feeling hot?”

  Did Marek have to use that voice that could melt her into a puddle at his feet?

  “No, I’m not.” She swallowed shaking her head. “Why do you say that?”

  “Because your cheeks are flushed.”

  The elevator pinged, its doors opening and saving Gwen from replying. Marek’s eyes danced with amusement.

  “What’s so funny?” She frowned, nearly planting her hands on her hips.

  “You breathing a sigh of relief.”

  She shook her head in incredulity.

  “You’re so full of it,” she muttered pivoting away.

  “Do you always say what’s on your mind?” He followed her to the front desk.

  “Is that another way of saying if I always put my foot in my mouth?”

  She should have been incensed when she heard the quiet laughter rumbling out of his chest. Instead, it brought a tingle of pleasure down her spine and her own mouth tugged at the humour of their situation. He stood so close to her that her ass brushed against his jeans.

  “It’s Bannach.” His hot breath blew against her hair causing her spine to straighten. “Marek Bannach.”

  “Just like Bond, James Bond?” She mocked over her shoulder, her eyes lowering so that she didn’t get drawn further into him when she was already having a trying time leaving.

  He chuckled before brushing her hair to one side to kiss her neck. “No.”

  Gwen shivered, sudden desire taking hold of her that she eased backward against his chest. “No?”

  “No. Bond isn’t real. I am.”

  “Hello, checking out?” The sprightly voice of the front desk clerk broke their sensual play and they broke apart much to Gwen’s disappointment. The woman at the desk gave her a short smile before showing an interest in Marek. A shiny nameplate with the name ‘Divine’ was pinned to the lapel of her coat.

  “Yes,” Gwen replied with a short smile. She handed in her credit card. “The concierge, Evander, said he’d leave my car keys here when I was ready to pick it up.”

  Divine tapped a few keys as she looked at her computer before getting Gwen’s car keys. She handed Gwen’s credit card back together with a receipt. She flashed a smile. “I hope you enjoyed your stay.”

  Before Gwen could reply, Divine’s attention turned in full force on Marek. “And how may I help you today?”

  “Talk about divine intervention.” Gwen quipped, strangely amused at Marek’s irritation. “It was nice meeting you, Mr. Bannach. Thank you for all you’ve done.”

  She didn’t wait for him to respond. With as much composure as she could gather, she moved away from him. But the longer the distance between them, the stronger she felt that she shouldn’t have left.

  Home away from home was a split level affair that merged the old world with the organic. The furniture that looked like it grew out of the white washed walls complimented the prints by old masters hanging on the walls. There was enough oxygen inside her apartment from her zen like plants to stop wrinkles forming on her face. Gwen was not in to that. The plants reminded her of home, of Liverpool where she had lived almost all of her adult life, and of Oban where she spent a lot of time when visiting her grandparents now long gone. A glass wall with water trickling down to the narrow pond cut into the wooden floor divided the living room and dining area, the tinkling sound reminding her of rainy days that graced England more than the sun did. However, right now, she was not able to relax the moment she entered her apartment. In fact, the hair at the back of her neck rose and her blood turned to ice as she took everything in.

  Someone had ransacked her home.

  The place looked as though a hurricane had wrought its destruction in her place and spared the neighbourhood. Gwen moved forward slowly, taking in the upturned and broken chairs and the gashes on the floors showing where the furniture had been dragged through. She moaned in dismay at the painful sight of the bonsai tree she so patiently tended now on its side, its roots torn from the soil.

  A sob rose from her throat. She rushed to it to gently put it back in the shallow vase, having to firmly plant her hand on it to make sure it didn’t topple. She ran to her small office already knowing what she would find.

  Papers were strewn everywhere. Some of the books and scientific journals were torn from their spines while the rest lay on the wooden floor. Others lay face up with its pages waving in the air that came with her every move. Still other books lay face down with a footprint stamped on one of the journals that had her article on blood particle identification. Gwen leaned back against the wall the truth dawning on her like a mule’s kick in the face.

  Her personal laptop was missing.

  Her legs buckled and she slithered down the wall, her eyes wide and mouth parted. Her heart sank so low she was not sure if it could find its way back up into her chest again. She was no longer in any doubt that the men who came after her were from Sebastian Laboratories. Part of her still refused to accept that the owner of the pharmaceutical company was behind the threat on her life. Why the hell would he do that? Because she resigned? Her report was enough for her successor to continue the research. The lab had all of the information needed to come to the same conclusion she had: the blood could become a conduit for healing but there was another component missing. It was what she had been looking into before she resigned. Whatever she still hadn’t submitted was not going to stall the experiments. Granted it was a breakthrough but there was still a thirty percent chance that her conclusions could be wrong.

  And what about Digna? How did she fit in all of this?

  Shit.

  The only time I open my mouth and I have men trying to put a bullet in me.

  Gwen crawled over the floor, her strength suddenly deserting her. She gathered the scattered papers to put them in some semblance of order, but her fingers seemed to have become all thumbs and the loose sheets kept falling from her numb hands. She sat down starting to feel lightheaded, her pulse seemed to race a thousand miles a second. She shut her eyes and gritted her teeth. She needed to stay calm. Nothing was going to be gained from panicking. She continued to breathe. In. Out. In. Out.

  Her eyes snapped open. The men could still be out there. If so, they should have stormed the house once more while she was in. She couldn’t stay. She had to escape.

  Standing, she climbed the stairs to her bedroom where her clothes were scattered on the floor and the drawers of her dresser and the bedside table overturned with the contents strewn across her bed.

  Taking off her shoes, she waded through her walk-in closet and grabbed the knapsack that had been thrown in the corner. She grabbed two pairs of jeans, jumpers, T-shirts, socks, and the underwear that those who ransacked h
er home had kindly left in the drawer. She threw off her crumpled clothes and donned fresh underwear before changing into jeans and a plain white cotton T-shirt, stuffing her leather jacket inside with her clothes. With surgical focus, Gwen closed off everything around her save for her hearing. Crouching in front of one of the lower cabinets in her walk-in closet, she pressed the false bottom which opened to reveal ten thousand dollars, her real and fake passports, and her Sig Sauer still inside its case. She checked the magazine before putting it back. Whatever she needed she could get at the airport or after she landed back in John Lennon Airport in Liverpool. She would need to ditch her phone. A cynical smile graced her mouth. So much for learning a few Americanisms in her stay in the States. She no longer felt safe in the house and she didn’t have anywhere else to go within America that Highmore wouldn’t find her.

  Grabbing her bag, she ran down the stairs. Moving to one side of the window, she peered out. Aside from her banged up Porsche there were no suspicious vehicles in the street. Yet. They must have gone through her house while she was staying in the hotel. Gwen didn’t know how long she had before they came looking for her once again. She took her phone out of her purse.

  “I need a cab,” she said stating her address before ending the call. Securing her knapsack behind her back and her purse across her body, she left the kitchen and living room lights on. Programming the alarm, she left her phone on the table and escaped via the garden. She jumped over the fence and ran through the alley to wait for the taxi two blocks down.

  Whatever Sebastian Highmore thought he’d find in her house, it was not there. He was not going to find anything on her laptop either. Her research was in her cloud drive and secured by a special firewall she had paid thousands of pounds for. She’d need to change her password every so often. Gwen’s mouth curled to one side. That would give the hackers a few headaches. When she downloaded it in another secure place, she’d delete the data from the cloud and that was all Sebastian Highmore would see.

  An empty cloud. He’d be lucky to see seraphim sleeping on it.

  She’d call the real estate company when she arrived in the UK and put her apartment on the market. The violation of her home was like the violation of herself. It would be a waste to throw all those scientific journals away but they were no use to her damaged. Sadness filled her heart at having to leave the tree she had tended so lovingly. The one that had given her hours of peace. But she had to cut clean. She’d tend to another one when she settled in Oban and find the enjoyment of caring for a tree again.

  As she sprinted to the end of the alley, she looked back. Still no sign of anyone following her. Good.

  If her stint in Afghanistan taught her anything, it was not to use the same escape route twice.

  Marek perused the Austin-Bergstrom International’s terminal with narrowed eyes behind his Randolphs. Even inside the confines of the hotel’s limousine service, he could still hear planes arriving and leaving, seeing them in a synchronized dance over Austin’s blue skies. Chartered flights looked like blips in an immense blue radar before landing on the runway. The limo continued on to the fixed base operator’s terminal where he’d board the Gulfstream to New Orleans. However, it was a slow journey when the airport was heaving with vacation traffic.

  His sudden departure from Texas was not planned and he’d had to inform Lia to stay put where she was. To his irritation, Lia just laughed and closed the phone on him.

  Earlier, he had watched Gwen leave, grimacing at the damage to her car when Jarred rang.

  “My sister’s arriving this afternoon then we’ll head on to your ranch,” Marek said while striding towards the elevators. He automatically rubbed the sudden ache in his chest and frowned at the empty feeling that came after Gwen’s departure. That had never happened before, whether it had been his ex-fiancée or any other woman that followed.

  “Change of plans,” Jarred said apologetically.

  “I see.” Marek stopped in his tracks. Hope dispersed like mist. “Rain check’s fine considering it’s a few days before Christmas. Let me know when Janka is available and Lia and I will keep that date open.” Truth be told, he was envious of Jarred. Married life really suited him.

  “Who said anything about a rain check?” Jarred asked, his tone baffled.

  “You said change of plans.”

  “I said change of plans. I didn’t say the meeting was cancelled.”

  “It isn’t?” A crease furrowed Marek’s brow.

  “The only cancellation there is, is Janka staying in New Orleans for Christmas.”

  “Say again?”

  “She agreed to see you both but in NOLA,” Jarred replied. Marek heard the bustle of activity in the background, of Dani’s laughter and Christmas music that made him miss his parents once more. “She said that she knew this day would come.”

  The fine hairs on Marek’s arms and nape rose. Sure there were a lot of seers he’d visited saying something similar, but this one was different. The goose bumps alone attested to it something that didn’t happen with the others.

  “Marek?”

  “Still here.”

  “You’re still welcome to spend Christmas with us.”

  “Did Dani’s cousin say when she would meet us?” There was some shuffling in the background and whispered nothings that made Marek look away and shake his head.

  “Marek, it’s Dani.”

  He couldn’t stop the soft laughter that came out of his throat. “For a while there I thought the Formula 1 bad boy suddenly became all girly.”

  Dani laughed. “Jarred said you’d have more questions so he handed the phone to me.”

  “I do…I have.” Marek pressed the button for his floor and waited for the doors to close. “What did Janka say? Do we see her a.s.a.p.? I mean I don’t want to interfere with her Christmas plans. Heck, I was not even expecting an audience with her right away.”

  “Janka knows things even I can’t even begin to understand. All she said was if what you sought was truly important, then you’d move swiftly and she’d meet you halfway.”

  The elevator pinged open and Marek walked out. “How?”

  “She’ll send you to the astral plane on Christmas Eve. She said you’ll find your answers there.”

  Marek hadn’t felt this much excitement before. It was more than he could have hoped. Even with Hank Heaton exhausting all possible avenues of finding more firebinders, what Janka was offering was something not one of the past seers he went to had been able to give him. He turned away from the window exhaling at the long row of vehicles waiting for passengers to alight before he tensed.

  Gwen?

  She was weaving her way through the throng coming out of vehicles on the curb. She had changed to jeans and a white T-shirt under a camel coloured leather jacket. Her purse was slung across her body and she had a backpack, the huge kind that mountaineers used Marek’s eyes widened. She carried a strong case for a gun. Won’t wonders ever cease? Gwen had more layers than any woman Marek had undressed and it only made him want to get to know her more. But why the airport? Hadn’t she gone home? Unless…

  “Paterno, stop the car.”

  “Sir?”

  “Park to one side. I’ll be right back.”

  Marek didn’t wait for the chauffeur to answer. Where Gwen was concerned, his extrasensory powers kicked in. Wrenching his Randolph sunglasses away from his eyes, he scrutinized the people going in and out of the terminal, watching for a different flow or a sudden break from a group. True enough two men broke away from a huge group of parents and children who were dressed for a colder climate. They had also noticed Gwen enter the terminal and Marek inhaled sharply when he espied the syringe one of the men held carefully. One man broke away as the other forged ahead, pushing his way through the crowd.

  “Why do they always have to come in twos?” Marek muttered sprinting towards Gwen. His stomach twisted as his progress was slowed by the number of people, his heartbeat counting the time in his ears. The whine
and loud rush of jet engines competed with people shouting at each other only for the tail end of their conversations to be heard when the loud noise suddenly dropped. People going home or visiting for the holidays jostled with other holiday makers, while airline pilots, stewards, and stewardesses walked serenely towards the gates that would take them to their jet planes. It was no use. Even if he excused himself, he wouldn’t be able to get to Gwen in time.

  He looked left and right. The men were closing in on their quarry. Marek produced a sudden burst of heat that people cried out and moved away thinking a bomb might have detonated. He increased his pace. The men were just three feet away from Gwen, impeded by the people falling in line with their luggage. He was four feet away. With another heat surge, the people around him pulled back with gasps and expletives at the sudden heat that scorched them from nowhere. With only seconds to spare, Marek reached Gwen just as he felt the needle sink into his skin and felt the liquid in his lumbar region. He hissed and grabbed the man’s hand just as Gwen turned around in shock.

  “Marek!” Her eyes flickered with alarm as she looked around. “How did you know I was here? Are you following me?”

  “No, but the man who just injected me with something was.”

  “What?” Gwen was flabbergasted, her face paling.

  Marek whipped around, his eyes starting to burn with the rage inside of him. Gwen was really in some serious shit and fuck if he knew why he always had to save her. But the thought of Gwen being the intended victim of whatever was inside his system now made him want to wring the man’s neck. The man’s own eyes widened, shock turning into disbelief then fear. Marek knew why. Because the man in front of him would see the flames in Marek’s eyes like he was looking past Hell’s gates. No one else would see the flames that struck fear and froze the very marrow of a person’s bones. Only the firebinder’s target would.

  The man looked down at the syringe then at Marek before wrenching his hand away. He pivoted and pushed his way through the crowd. His companion also moved away, keeping his head low.