Baptism of Fire (Playing With Hellfire Book 1)

by Jessie Thomas

  “Marcus?” Javier and Gemma parroted with differing levels of disgust and confusion. Gemma made a face like she’d just caught a whiff of sulfur.

  I sighed. “He has a name.”

  “Take away this ridiculous cage,” Cassia demanded, “then we’ll discuss business matters.”

  “No,” Javier and I said at the same time Gemma scoffed and pulled another sarcastic face with a roll of her eyes.

  “Then my silence is all you’ll get for your trouble,” she said. “I refuse to be held in here like an animal.”

  “It’s what you deserve,” Gemma muttered around her straw.

  “We’re not gonna get anywhere like this,” Javier said. He passed a hand over his bloodshot eyes and took a more vigilant sip of coffee.

  “What if you just took away some of the wards?” I asked Gemma. “We’ll keep Detective Rashid’s. We need her to talk.”

  Gemma stared at me hard enough that I thought the lenses in her glasses would melt from the sheer force and heat of it. She sighed, one hand poised on her hip, taking out her anger on the ice cube that shattered between her teeth. The silence that stretched between the three of us grew long enough to be worrisome.

  “I know I’m going to regret this,” she huffed a long, drawn-out noise of contempt. “I’m warning you now, I better live to regret it.”

  22

  Wisps of lacey red smoke floated through the air, untangling from around Cassia’s wrists.

  “The suit’s going to have a hefty price tag on that invoice.”

  “She’ll love that.” Javier shook his head, if only to hide his smirk.

  Gemma wove more of her lacework to create a perimeter around Cassia, though it quickly disappeared from view. Like candle smoke dissipating into the depths of the warehouse. I felt the power of them from where I stood, the static buzzing around us.

  “You’ll have some breathing room,” she told Cassia. “But you won’t be able to go too far. Just enough. Zahira’s nullification wore off already, and we don’t know how much power you’ll have access to.”

  “I gave you my word.”

  Javier laughed. “Yeah, and we can run around this same conversation all day, but we’ve made it clear enough that we’re not trusting the word of a demon. Doesn’t matter how much your information’s worth. Better get used to it. You’re a long way from that tower.”

  “All right,” Gemma announced, brushing her hands together like she was trying to rid them of dirt. Or maybe demon contaminants. “That’s as good as it’s going to get, team. If the mob comes knocking down the door, though, we’re going to have a problem.”

  “Let’s hope we get to Marcus first.” I hated to use his name when he didn’t deserve one. It felt sour on my tongue.

  “We can.”

  She paced the invisible barricade now that she had her hands free, testing the limits, the lacework wards illuminating when she got too close. This time, they stung when she made contact with them. She tried to hide the stab of discomfort once her fingers brushed against them and they lit up red. I caught the sneer on her lips, the way her body reeled back, unused to experiencing pain. Unused to being treated like what she was.

  I wondered if it bothered the demons to be reminded of their inhuman nature. They could pretend to be us well enough, but once you peeled back that shiny, flawless veneer, did they not like to see themselves that way? Was that beneath them, too?

  “We’re allowed our own freedoms,” Cassia said. “My father likes me to stay close to home, but it won’t be the first time I’ve slipped past his rules. No one will suspect anything yet.”

  “That buys us some time,” Javier said.

  “Aside from some minor disagreements, Marcus has no reason to doubt my loyalty,” she continued. “So he’ll believe that you’ve taken me as your prisoner.” The wicked grin she wore didn’t do anything to put me at ease. “We’ll have to consider the location.”

  “We can’t wait for him to go after another firehouse responding to a call,” I told her. “I don’t like the idea of putting anyone else in danger.”

  “And, no offense, but we don’t have the greatest record,” Javier reminded.

  Gemma saluted him with her iced coffee. “Yeah, we kind of suck.”

  Cassia watched us with an eerie sort of patience. That grin still curved her lips. “Have none of you considered the obvious choice?”

  Unease curdled in my stomach.

  “What?” I asked. But I didn’t want to know the answer.

  “His next target.” She stopped pacing, tilting her head to the side. “The one he won’t be able to resist. I seem to recall an invitation in your apartment, Fireblood.”

  “No,” I snapped.

  Javier let out a loud exhale once the realization hit him like a damn freight train. “Yeah? And who the hell gave him that idea?”

  “Anyone want to clue me in?” Gemma asked. She chewed on the end of her straw. “Anyone at all?”

  I glared at Cassia. “It’s the PFFD Firefighter’s Gala.”

  “I don’t recall you having a plus one.” She looked appropriately smug. “As much as I would love to take credit for this brilliant idea, it was never mine. It was always going to lead to this. You understand that now, don’t you?”

  “Why would he risk it?” I asked. “Why attack such an obvious target if he’s trying not to attract the wrong attention?”

  “Ambition,” Cassia answered. “The stupid boy cannot help himself. It’s what he wants—a grand finale. He won’t care who watches. He won’t care because if he’s successful, he’ll gain my father’s favor. He wants to prove himself. It will be like a siren’s song to his ears, especially now that you’ll be within his reach. The two of you have unfinished business to attend to.”

  “Not at the expense of people’s lives,” I argued.

  “He won’t get the victory he’s after,” she told us, and it felt more like a warning than a promise. “Because you’ll have me, the daughter of the man he wants to impress. Your one bargaining chip. Well, two, if you would like to count yourself in, Fireblood.”

  She went on. “If you truly want to catch him,” Cassia said, pacing again, “this is how we have to do it. Use his terribly inflated ego against him. You can run along and tell that to your lieutenant.”

  “Yeah, this feels like a trap,” Gemma said. “More for us, not him.”

  “Thorn in your side, huh?” I taunted.

  “You have no idea.”

  “And what, pray tell, do you get out of this?” Gemma asked. “We’re on the losing end of this deal yet again. What sort of demands does the Hellspawn royalty have?”

  “I just want what I feel I deserve. What I’m owed.”

  “Trust us, she says,” Javier mocked. “I won’t kill you now, but next week? Next month? Sounds good, we’ll reschedule once you get your hands dirty for me.”

  “I thought you were done arguing that point.”

  I raked my fingers through my hair and turned away from her, putting some distance between us. The proximity felt more suffocating than the balmy midmorning—or early afternoon; I hadn’t glanced at a clock yet—that drifted into the warehouse. Not even a breeze off the river could cut through it.

  “I hate this.”

  “Oh, I know you do.” Cassia stopped pacing long enough to throw me a satisfied, deliberate look. For a prisoner, she seemed a little too chipper for me. “I also know that you’ve realized this is the only way it happens.”

  I groaned. Agreeing with a demon. Fucking hell. “You’ll be on a short leash.”

  “Fine,” Cassia shot back. “So long as it matches my dress.”

  “We’re really doing this, aren’t we?” Gemma popped the top off her cup and chugged the rest of the watered-down iced coffee.

  “Nix,” Javier warned, lowering his voice as he settled a hand on my arm. “She’s shoving us all into a corner. You’ve gotta know that.”

  “I know.”

  “We can’t do
this.” His eyes were earnest, fraught and pleading. “We can’t let him walk in there.”

  “We have to,” I said. “I don’t like it any more than you do.” I wanted to escape Javier’s eyes. “Santos, if we can take him out with minimal damage, we can end it. Now.”

  “Hell of a risk.”

  “If we can get him on the ropes before they knock us down first…”

  “That’s a pretty big if, Nix.”

  “Are you going to have my back?” I asked. “You don’t have to like it. I just…I’m going to need your help taking out an incendiary.” My gaze flickered to Cassia, who’d become preoccupied with a thread on her sleeve. “Maybe two, if it comes to that. You’re the one with experience.”

  Javier exhaled, and it sounded like resignation. “I was never gonna let you get into this mess by yourself. Kinda hoped I could talk you out of it.”

  “You gave it your best shot,” I said. “I’d agree with you, if we had another way out. He’s going to be there whether we are or not. So let’s be there to stop him.”

  Javier shook his head. “I’ll let you explain all this to the lieutenant.”

  “Ha.” Gemma crunched on an ice cube. “That’d be fun to watch.”

  Well, shit.

  Cassia grinned from where she stood, one arm folded behind her back. She lifted the other to waggle her fingers at me.

  This is gonna be good.

  The news trucks that had swarmed the parking lot of PFFD headquarters for this morning’s bullshit press conference were gone by the time I arrived. With the annual gala happening this weekend, they were quick to pressure the fire department and law enforcement into making a decision on whether or not to move forward with it. In the least surprising turn of events, the fire commissioner made it clear that they weren’t cancelling the event despite the recent string of deadly fires, which they claimed were hard to distinguish from the city’s usual arson problem. We were told to expect a heavy police presence.

  Fantastic.

  They would do anything and everything to bury the truth. The journalists could ask their questions, the newspapers could dig deeper, but they’d never be able to reveal the city’s secret to the masses. Not while the incendiaries pulled all the strings from the shadows. Whatever it took to pass off the whole demon thing as a tourist trap—people would continue to disappear, to die in ways that would remain suspicious.

  All part of that Perdition Falls charm.

  The residents needed to see that things weren’t as picturesque as the fire department’s recruitment commercials led them to believe. We had been vocal about our complaints in the past, but I could only hope that for once the people wouldn’t be satisfied with the lies shoved down their throats.

  It seemed to be working for the moment, now that the public was good and pissed. No telling how long it would last or how quickly they’d make this story disappear. A crowd of protestors were camped out in front of headquarters; firefighters and residents alike who’d been here to voice their dissent during the press conference. The cameras did their best to keep them out of frame, because the alternative wouldn’t look good. Their anger still lashed the air, unavoidable despite everything the department did to suppress it. Least shocking, the protestors had been met with the same tired, canned responses.

  “We hear you,” the fire commissioner had promised. “We’re doing everything we can to improve job safety.”

  He was the grizzled, archetypal smoke eater with a politician’s silver tongue and classic Hollywood good looks. I’d heard someone at the academy call him a “silver fox” once, but I didn’t understand the appeal. Nothing mattered, anyway. His word was essentially gospel. All the public outrage in the world couldn’t do a damn thing to unseat him.

  I was sure now—more than ever—that padding his salary with incendiary money made it easier for him to not give a single shit about the rest of us.

  The horde of protestors had grown since morning, and they’d migrated from the parking lot to the front doors. Flanking the walkway with their chants and homemade signs and bull horns, so many had joined them that the crowd spilled down the sidewalk and trampled the sad patch of dead grass. As much as I had a right to be among them, the thought of getting shoved into the spotlight—the lone survivor with the murdered best friend—made my lungs constrict and my mouth dry.

  Instead, I slipped into the building through a side door and avoided the rabble altogether. We were each fighting our own battles.

  Luckily for me—and for him, most likely—Kowalski was nowhere in sight once I reached the fire investigation offices. I’d warned Jodi about my visit ahead of time, but I tapped my knuckles softly on the door before I breezed on through. I hoped that the public setting would minimize the furious scolding I knew we deserved for yet another shit-for-brains plan.

  “Lock it,” Jodi told me, glancing up from the lopsided pile of paperwork on her desk. “People around here have a habit of walking in whenever the mood strikes them. I’m used to it, but it’s irritating. And this isn’t a conversation the department needs to know about.”

  I plopped down into the hard plastic chair across from her desk. Just sitting there gave me flashbacks of my high school principal’s office. And every time I’d gotten a reprimand in training. I wondered if I’d ever be able to get over that knee-jerk reaction in Jodi’s presence.

  Jodi closed the folder and pushed it aside, lacing her fingers together on the desktop in front of her. She eyed me with a certain softness around the edges that was often rare and fleeting. I tried to shift away from it.

  “Have you been sleeping?” she asked.

  “Not well,” I offered.

  If I had lied about it, she would’ve known anyway. The evidence was right there on my face in the bruised skin underneath my eyes.

  “Please tell me you’ve eaten today.” Had she been talking to my aunt without my knowledge? “If not, we can move this meeting elsewhere.”

  “Yeah.” Not exactly a total lie, though I hadn’t eaten anything that could be considered of nutritional value. “I’m good.”

  The phone in my jeans pocket started vibrating, the uncomfortable plastic chair amplifying the steady buzz of an incoming call. My pulse did one of those terrifying freefalls once I finally dug it out and caught the name on the screen.

  Ally Moretti.

  “Shit,” I whispered. I knew she would’ve seen the press conference. And if this had been any other situation, she would’ve been out there with the rest of the protestors.

  “Do you need to take that?”

  I shook my head and stowed it away, along with what felt like another fragment of my soul. “Later.”

  Jodi leaned back in her chair and tugged at one sleeve of her starched shirt. Her office suited her—everything in its place, every surface sparse except for the mountain of paperwork clogging up her desk. I imagined it was as orderly as she kept the rest of her life. But I realized then that I knew next to nothing about this woman aside from the connection she’d once had to my parents. The room around us didn’t offer anything up, either; no picture frames of family or pets, no personality. Just the same dingy carpeting and gunmetal filing cabinets and outdated furnishings that were a fixture throughout the building. Like everything else, it was in desperate need of an upgrade.

  Jodi had done the most to keep herself at a distance.

  “So.” She tapped her fingernails on the arm of the chair. “I assume the incendiary had something useful to say.”

  “You’re not going to like it.”

  “That’s hardly a shock. We’re taking a gamble with her. You and I both know she won’t be long for this world, and the city will be better for it. It won’t matter then what the repercussions are.”

  “Even if her father razes the whole city again?”

  Jodi’s expression remained frighteningly neutral. Two dead incendiaries were better than one, but what if it came at the cost we couldn’t foresee?

  “What did she say?�
�

  “His next target is the gala.” The words came slow and hesitant. “She said that it was all his idea—his whole endgame. He’s counting on a lot of the department’s pyromancers being under one roof. One last attack, I guess, to make some kind of statement. To prove himself, she said.”

  She sagged into her chair, fingers steepled against her brow. The explosion I’d anticipated was the quiet kind, which made the experience somehow infinitely worse than anything my mind had concocted on the bus ride over there. The thin, white line of her pursed lips. The long silence she let me wallow in. The exhausted stare of a woman at the end of her rope.

  Please, say something, I begged, a cold sweat breaking out across the small of my back, my hands suddenly clammy. Anything…?

  I couldn’t take another moment of silence.

  “Just so you’re aware,” I told her, my voice breathless and higher pitched than necessary, “none of us think this is the greatest turn of events, either—”

  “The problem we have now is that it won’t just be pyromancers in that building. It will be spouses and family members and people who are oblivious to the world we live in. I don’t want any more casualties, Victoria.”

  “I know. None of us like the thought, but—”

  “It’s our last option. Our only chance.”

  “And he knows it, too,” I told her when she met my gaze. “He wants a fight. He wants me.”

  Jodi pushed herself up from the chair and leaned on the desk. “I’ll talk to Zahira and see if she’ll be on standby. It’s not likely, but we have to hope we can get rid of him before he causes any damage.”

  I snorted. “…Yeah.”

  “And when I say ‘no casualties,’” Jodi said, her eyes lifting to me, “that means you, too, and everyone else on the team. I get that this has been personal for you, and I know what seeing that incendiary again will do to you. This city is better with you here fighting for it.”

  “I’m sure you’d find someone else.”

  “Victoria.” Her voice rose for the first time since I’d stepped into her office. “No heroics, you understand me? He’s not worth it. Don’t give him the satisfaction.”