Inside the Flame (Elemental Mages Book 2)

by Rose O'Brien

  Her mouth fell open and she turned sharp eyes on him.

  “Knew it,” he said.

  Her jaw snapped shut and she glared at him before turning to stare out the window. For a split second, though, he’d seen a spark of humor in those eyes. Was it possible she was warming up to him?

  This trip was going to take three or four days by his estimation and it would certainly be easier if they didn’t have to pass it in stony silence. Maybe he could use the time constructively, to soften her up to the Council’s cause and prepare her for what she would encounter on the other side of the portal in Damascus.

  The Citadel was an overwhelming experience for creatures who had grown up among the shadow races. It was going to be a hell of a shock for this poor sapien. But maybe he could answer her questions and build a little bit of trust before she was thrown in the deep end and expected to swim.

  He tried to concentrate on the road as he maneuvered through the morning traffic, but he found his gaze drifting to Jen. Her long black braid hung over her shoulder. It was still glistening from the shower she had taken while he waited outside the locker room door. Her face was caught in profile as she looked out the window. Her jaw was as delicate as fairy glass, ending in a pointed little chin. Her cheekbones were high and sharp enough to cut himself on. They framed a small nose that was downright adorable. If there hadn’t been a perpetual frown making little creases between her dark brows, she would have been magazine cover pretty.

  But the snapping intelligence in those dark eyes coupled with her hard expression transformed her into something else. There was a fearsome quality about her beauty. It was like coming face to face with a tiger. The beauty was awe-inspiring, but you knew that you could be eaten alive any second.

  Her voice snapped his thoughts back to the road.

  “Why are you going this way? If you want to hit Highway 1, we need to take Rabie Street to the Abu Ghraib Expressway.”

  “I was going to take the hospital road,” he countered.

  “Trust me, you want to take the expressway. There are more checkpoints on the hospital road, and we’ll be all day.”

  “Are you in a hurry to get where we’re going?”

  “If these guys on my tail are as bad as you say, then I’d like to get the hell out of Dodge.”

  He switched lanes and prepared to do as she instructed. They passed a Taco Bell on the right, and he was struck for a moment by how often this city surprised him. The last time he’d swung through Baghdad, the Americans had been here in force, and Sadr City had been erupting in violence.

  This area of the west side had been bombed out the last time he’d seen it. Now, there was a line of Toyotas and Hondas waiting in the drive-thru line to get their tostadas and quesadillas.

  He checked the rearview and his stomach clenched. They’d picked up a tail. The little black two-door was hanging back three or four cars, but it had been with them too long and there was something in the motions of the driver that was setting off his spidey sense.

  “We’ve got company,” he told Jen.

  Surprisingly, she didn’t snap her head around to look, which might have given them away. Instead, she casually checked the side mirror.

  “Black car, three cars back?” she asked.

  This one was way too sharp.

  “They’ve been with us awhile.”

  “Could be nothing,” she said.

  “Better safe than sorry.”

  He slid into another lane without signaling and at the next intersection jerked the vehicle into a sharp right turn. The engine roared as he accelerated and hung a left, almost clipping a Dumpster.

  His heart rate kicked up several notches, and his senses sharpened, routes and strategies pouring through his brain.

  The black car was with them, accelerating hard to keep up, sparks flashing under the belly as it bottomed out on the uneven road.

  Theron continued to manhandle the SUV through a series of turns that had Jen gripping the oh shit handle above her seat with her free hand.

  Her dark eyes were narrowed and trained on the mirrors, watching to see if their tail stayed with them, with the occasional glare directed his way when she was thrown against the door.

  Theron’s adrenaline surged as he maneuvered around a guy on a motorcycle and sprinted for the intersection ahead. The light was red. He ignored it and gunned it, shooting in front of a group of cars just starting into the intersection.

  Horns blared, but they were already well past. Jen shouted to take a right at the next intersection, a four-way stop that he completely ignored. He scooted around the corner with only a slight squeal of tires.

  “No sign of the tail,” Jen said.

  “Best news I’ve heard all day. The bad news is that I have no idea where in the hell we are.”

  “I do,” she said.

  She rattled off a series of directions. He’d slowed down now and was following the pace of traffic, constantly checking the mirrors to see if their tail had caught up.

  “I think we should head south of the city, circle around the airport and pick up Highway 1 way west of town,” she said, still checking the mirrors.

  This was clearly not the first time the woman had been forced to lose a tail. Theron wondered what kind of things she must have seen in her life to have stayed as cool as she had during that little chase.

  “My exit route’s been blown to hell,” he said. “Lead the way, princess.”

  Her glare landed on him at his use of the nickname.

  “Why do you keep calling me that? I’m about as far from a princess as I can get. I haven’t worn a dress or a pair of heels in five years. I’ve forgotten how to put on makeup. Tact and grace got left behind a long time ago. And I say fuck way too much to be considered a princess.”

  He shot her a quick look as he followed the series of turns she’d given him.

  “I don’t know,” he said, a little puzzled. “Princess just seems to fit somehow. I think it’s the air of unshakable confidence and command.”

  “Whatever you say,” she snapped. “Captain America.”

  “Wrong comic book. I’m a little more Human Torch.”

  “Same hair. Same apple pie attitude. Same aw shucks smile. Same ridiculous shoulder to hip ratio. It fits.”

  “Ah, come on! If you knew me, you’d know that I have more of an edge than that.” He felt a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth again. “I take back the princess comments.”

  She looked out the window, deliberately avoiding his eyes.

  “Sorry. It’s too late now,” she said. “Cap.”

  “Damn it.”

  “Language,” she said, sliding a sidelong look his way, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

  ***

  Though they had lost the tail, Theron was still driving like a bat out of hell and was clearly enjoying it. The big muscles in his arms bunched as he twisted the SUV’s wheel, maneuvering in and out of traffic like an oversized shark through a school of minnows. A cocky little grin pulled at the corner of his mouth.

  God save her from adrenaline junkies.

  She had the handle over the door in a death grip, but she was starting to relax, despite the song on the sound system featuring a guy screaming about bodies hitting the floor. Theron had lost that tail like an expert. The guy was clearly well trained. If she had any hope of ditching him, she’d have to get very creative.

  Jen mentally catalogued her resources and didn’t like what she was coming up with. Her laptop, phone and camera were in her bag behind her seat. Without a WiFi signal, the laptop wouldn’t be of much help in getting free. Her phone might be a better bet for getting a message out, if she could find an area with a signal and find a way to use it away from Theron’s ever watchful eyes.

  Who could she contact? Jen had no family left. The old familiar sting of pain bloomed in her chest at the thought of her mother. She hadn’t spoken to her so-called friends in five years. The only people she communicated with
were her editors, her contacts and her sources.

  Even if she could get a message out to one of them, what would she tell them?

  Been kidnapped by pyrokinetic claiming to work for magical shadow government. Running from elven death cult that supposedly wants to use my ability to see and communicate with dead people for some unknown nefarious purpose. Driving somewhere west of Baghdad. Send help?

  Yeah, that wasn’t going to work.

  The handcuff rattled against the door handle and she wanted to scream at the annoying sound. Theron had been far too careful to always keep her locked to him or something equally immovable. Fury at her situation burned like acid in her gut.

  The man clearly did not trust her, despite her assurances that she recognized the danger of her situation and wouldn’t resist his efforts to get her to safety. She’d been lying through her teeth. Was it possible he had sensed that, or was he just being cautious?

  Jen had no hope of overpowering Theron. She knew how to fight dirty, but the guy was gigantic. He was somewhere around six and a half feet tall and two hundred fifty pounds, if she had to guess. His muscles were ridiculous, he was clearly a trained fighter, and, oh yeah, he could throw fire around with his brain.

  No, the only shot she’d have at getting away was to convince him to lower his guard.

  Once she got free, she wasn’t sure what she was going to do. Theron had loaded water and food in the back of the SUV. It might be possible for her to sneak some into her bag, should she get the opportunity to make a break for it. She didn’t like her chances hiking across the desert, but it was a gamble she was willing to take.

  But how to get him to trust her enough so that she could slip away?

  Her thoughts were interrupted as the SUV slowed to a stop. There was a double line of vehicles ahead, their brake lights glowing in the wan morning sunlight. Checkpoint.

  Theron reached behind her and pulled her ID and press credentials from her bag. Shifting slightly, he pulled his own ID from a back pocket. With the push of a button, he released a catch at his waist and his black leather gun belt slid free.

  He stashed one of the twin .45s in a hidden compartment just below the steering wheel and stowed the belt under the driver’s seat.

  “Good thing I was wearing my day guns,” Theron commented as they rolled toward the group of Iraqi soldiers checking IDs and looking under vehicles with mirrors. “My evening rig is so much flashier and harder to hide.”

  Jen had to purse her lips to keep from laughing. He should be worried that the sniffers were going to pick up on the plastic explosives and ammunition he’d stashed in a compartment in back. Instead, he appeared casual as he slapped their papers against the steering wheel.

  A thought occurred to her. Maybe she could alert the soldiers at the checkpoint that she was being held against her will. Maybe Theron would let her go rather than take them all on. There must have been at least a dozen manning the checkpoint. All were armed with automatic weapons.

  Theron lowered the window and turned off the music as they rolled up to the soldier checking IDs. He handed over the papers without a word. Jen tried to catch the eye of the soldier and bring his attention to the handcuff on her wrist. She did her best to look uncomfortable, agitated and nervous, all behaviors the soldiers were trained to look for. At least that’s what officials had told her when she was writing an article about checkpoint guards last year.

  She was afraid to draw Theron’s attention to her plan. She needed the soldier to notice what she was doing, alert his comrades and surround the vehicle. On a gut level, she understood that if she wanted Theron to let her go without a fight, the odds against him would have to be overwhelming.

  “You’re with the press?” The soldier asked, only a slight accent coloring his English.

  “She is,” Theron responded. “I’m just her private security.”

  The soldier glanced at her for a split second then back down at the ID. She realized too late that the drug dealer tint on the SUV’s windows made the interior pretty dark. It was likely the guy couldn’t even see the handcuffs from where he stood, barely able to see into the window of the jacked up vehicle.

  Mentally, she cursed the tendency of Arab men to ignore women.

  “Open the back,” the soldier said.

  Theron hit the release on the back gate and another soldier looked over the case of protein bars, the jugs of water and miscellaneous equipment.

  The guns and explosives were in a hidden compartment in the floor. Jen had seen Theron lift a section of carpet to reveal a keypad. He’d entered the code too fast for her to follow from where she’d sat in the front seat.

  The explosives had been in airtight cases, as had his ammunition. The soldier in back pulled a handheld scanner from his belt and ran it over the carpet and around the sides of the cargo area. A knot formed in the pit of Jen’s stomach as the man stared intently at the device.

  If they found the explosives, they’d haul her and Theron out of the SUV and place them under arrest. She’d have a hell of a time explaining her way out of that situation, but it was better than the mess she was in now. Wasn’t it?

  She started to open her mouth to say something, though she wasn’t sure what. Her gaze landed on Theron’s indigo stare and something in his look froze her. There was a pleading in his level gaze.

  Trust me. I’ll protect you. She almost heard the words in her head. For several seconds she was transfixed, lost in his eyes.

  The scanner beeped once and a green light glowed. The back gate was shut before she could blink.

  The soldier at the window nodded and handed the paperwork back to Theron. Theron touched his forehead with a two-finger salute and put the behemoth in gear. “Whew,” Theron said as they moved back into traffic. “I was a little worried the seals on the back compartment wouldn’t be enough.”

  Jen stayed silent, internally cursing her inaction. It always came down to bad timing, the story of her life.

  Theron hadn’t turned the music back on, so she heard him clearly when he said in a quiet voice, “They can’t protect you.”

  She turned narrowed eyes on him. Had he noticed? What was he going to do?

  “Your poker face is good, princess, but I’m better,” he said, keeping his eyes on the road. “Let me be clear: just one of the people after you could cut down an entire squad of those soldiers without breaking a sweat. You want their deaths on your conscience?”

  Jen clenched her jaw as rage surged through her, but she stayed silent.

  “I’m your only ticket to safety,” he said evenly. “Have I given you any reason not to trust me?”

  Afraid her voice would come out hoarse from rage, Jen silently raised her cuffed wrist and rattled metal against the door handle.

  “That’s for your safety and mine,” he said. “I know how sharp your knees and elbows are.”

  Jen kept her mouth shut, crossed her free arm across her chest and stared sullenly out the window, watching as the buildings became more sparse as they neared the city’s edge.

  Several minutes passed in silence while Jen beat herself up over the missed opportunity, the impossibility of her current situation and the infuriating man in the driver’s seat. Her mind spun, trying to analyze her way out of here.

  Theron’s voice broke the silence. “I know you didn’t sleep well last night. Why don’t you try to catch some shut eye? I’ll keep the music off. We should be in Fallujah in a few hours.”

  Without saying a word, she closed her eyes. Sleep was an impossibility, but this way, she could more clearly picture all the ways she’d love to kill the guy sitting next to her.

  Chapter 6

  Jen woke with a start when she felt the SUV slow down. She was disoriented for a second until her gaze came to rest on Theron. Her eyes narrowed.

  “How long was I out?”

  “About an hour,” he said, not taking his eyes off the road. “We’ll be there soon. When we get there, please, for the love of all that’s
holy, keep your mouth shut and let me do the talking.”

  “Expecting trouble?” She couldn’t help the hopeful note that crept into her voice.

  “Hopefully not.” He shot her a look from beneath his brows that reminded her of their conversation earlier. They can’t protect you.

  “I’m not exactly sure what our reception is going to be,” he continued, his eyes returning to the road. “I’m flying by the seat of my pants since you blew my mission plans to hell. This situation might be a little delicate, so just stick with me and follow my lead.”

  “Sure thing, Cap,” she drawled, letting her voice drip with a sarcastic sweetness.

  He growled in annoyance. She smiled to herself.

  Looking out the window, Jen could see that they were on the outskirts of the city, the squat buildings visible in the distance. They were headed slightly away from town, a compound wall rising in front of them. Stucco buildings peeked over the top of the wall and a lake or reservoir glittered nearby.

  Jen turned a confused look on Theron as she realized where they were headed. Dreamland. The nickname had been given to the opulent Ba’ath Party headquarters after it had been built by Saddam Hussein. The place was part resort and part fortress. Infamous tales circulated of the depravities committed within its walls by Saddam’s two sons.

  After the invasion in 2003, the compound had been occupied by several different U.S. military units and had been renamed Camp Baharia by the Marines. Since the drawdown, the place was home to several units of the Iraqi Army and the private lake that had been a playground for a dictator was being used as the main source of drinking water for Fallujah.

  Eyeing her kidnapper, she wondered if he’d lost his mind. He’d done everything he could to avoid the notice of the authorities in Baghdad. Now, he was walking into one of their fortresses? What was he playing at?

  Theron slowed the SUV as he pulled up to the gate, greeting the guard in halting Arabic.