Stroke of Fire

by Kira Nyte

  Briella’s shoulders straightened and stiffened. Her back became ramrod straight and her chest puffed slightly with the deep breath she sucked in through clenched teeth. Her fingers flexed by her sides.

  Slowly, she lifted her defiant gaze to him. “Excuse me?”

  Syn matched her defiance with unmoving finality. “You cannot go out alone on those streets, day or night, with the threat pursuing you. I can come with you, or if you choose, you can have one of the other guys accompany you, but you won’t go alone.”

  “Ahh, yeah. Okay.” The smooth skin over her brow creased. A chill expression coasted across her face. “I haven’t needed someone to hold my hand in over a decade. I’m pretty sure I’ll be fine. Have you seen these streets during the day? Because there’s little to no chance of someone accosting me and getting away with it.” She poked a finger at her chest. “I have things I need to do, and you will not tell me I need a chaperone to get them done.”

  “It’s for your safety—”

  “If all of you dragons are overbearing to the point where you feel that suffocating a woman is the equivalent of protecting her, then I feel sorry for the ladies who actually let you guys boss them around,” Briella said in a scathing tone. She stepped back when he tried to reach for her hand. “Not going to work. I had someone try and do that to me. Ruined my chance at a showing. Put me down for my paintings. I swore I’d never let another man control me. I’ll be back. If I need anything, I’ll call.” She stabbed a finger in the air toward the courtyard. “My parents.”

  Syn gritted his teeth, smoke sifting through his taut lips, as he watched Briella storm toward the front door. He fisted his hands. Now was not the time for the distraction caused by the sway of her hips in her determined beeline to leave the house. He should be chasing after her, forcing her to listen to reason, because being nice obviously wasn’t working.

  But, she finally explained her desperation for independence, whether she realized it or not.

  “I warned you, Syn. You’ve got your work cut out for you.”

  He twisted to catch Giovani’s sympathetic gaze from the table in the courtyard. “Advice?”

  “Your good looks aren’t going to divert her from her path. Your best bet? Get her to where she wants to be.”

  Syn considered his Keeper’s advice. Get her to where she wanted to be. That was easy enough.

  “Hey, you can’t let her go alone. She’s a walking target. If not for Baroqueth, then for drunkards who have a thing for gorgeous redheads.” Taryn jutted his chin toward the door. “I’ll come with you. You know, just in case you need some pointers on people skills.”

  It was pretty apparent he lacked skills in several departments, and they all had to do with Briella.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Briella winced as Emma’s crushing hug forced a cough from her chest and trapped her arms by her sides.

  “You had us scared to death!” Emma finally released her and leaned back, keeping her hands tightly clenched on Briella’s shoulders. The woman’s nostrils flared and her eyes narrowed. She glanced over her shoulder to the rest of their five-man crew waiting patiently in the small living room. In a voice far softer than her worried shriek, she asked, “Why do you smell like a man’s cologne? Like really, really good cologne?”

  Briella shrugged casually, fighting the urge to take a sniff of herself.

  Don’t even. You wracked your brain over him the entire walk to Emma’s. Stay mad.

  She tilted her head. Got a small whiff of Syn on her hair.

  The damn man was going to be the death of her.

  “Why don’t we go in there so I can apologize to everyone at the same time. I’m starting to feel repetitive,” Briella said lightly, hoping to deflect her friend’s curiosity back to scolding.

  Emma linked an arm with Briella’s and pulled her into the living room.

  She pressed her mouth against Briella’s ear and whispered, “If you are keeping a guy a secret from me, you’re going to get a tongue lashing.”

  “I’ve no doubt, but you don’t have to prepare for that.”

  Mark was first out of his seat. The hug she received from him was just as crushing, but his hands lingered far longer on her back and hip than necessary. She stepped away from him before she could stop herself—was that guilt she felt?—and caught the glint of hurt in his eyes not quite masked by a dazzling smile.

  Thankfully, Adrienne and Mindy pummeled her simultaneously with hugs, shakes, and a slew of questions.

  “Where were you?”

  “What happened to you?”

  “We thought you were dead!”

  “Mark thought you ran off with some hunk.”

  A sharp laugh burst from her at that last remark. She laughed until her friends released her and gave her a chance to catch her breath.

  Oh, if you only knew…

  Syn was scrumptious. Briella had never met a guy so unforgiving in his looks. Apparently, dragons had a knack for hot in that respect, because Taryn, Emery, and Gabe were all utterly handsome.

  “What was the issue with your apartment?” Emma asked, giving her an arched-brow look. Briella met the challenge with a smile.

  “The plaster started cracking in the entryway and my AC clunked.” She shrugged. “My parents arrived shortly after. They offered to take me in.”

  “You’re their kid. I’d hope they’d take you in,” Adrienne said. Mindy giggled.

  “Well, all is fine and I’m sorry for the grief I caused by forgetting my phone. The three of us caught up before I got lost in painting.” She offered an apologetic smile. “Truly. I’m sorry.”

  “Great! That’s all wrapped up.” Emma clapped her hands. “I think we should get moving on those brochures. Three of us have work tonight.”

  “Why don’t we divide and conquer? We can each take two crossroads to Bourbon. That should cover most of the French Quarter. Tomorrow we can hit up the Garden District.” Adrienne wiggled her outstretched fingers. “Let me see what that gallery put together in a day.”

  Briella handed over one of the brochures she had in the large Vera Bradley bag she’d picked up from her apartment on her way to the gallery. They were simple trifold brochures with full color, showcasing a couple of images of her paintings and a brief biography.

  Mindy nodded.

  “They look pretty awesome, Brie,” she said, accentuating pretty. “How many did Harper give you?”

  “I have two hundred. He has more coming by the end of the week. Forty each. We should be able to hand them out fairly quickly.”

  “All right. Let’s get to it,” Mark said.

  An hour later, Briella had made a round of Jackson Square, which nearly cleaned her out of brochures. She stopped at a few of the smaller stores, pleased by the support the owners and staff offered when they gave her permission to either pin a brochure to an events board or tape one to the window. She made mental notes of promotional tools she’d invest in after this experience, such as postcards featuring whatever her hit painting turned out to be. The discussions she had with tourists and residents alike kept her mind off Syn, and her hopes for a solid debut soared.

  She came to a voodoo shop and slid into the tight quarters, pinpointing the checkout counter. There were no employees in sight.

  “Welcome.”

  Briella jerked around, startled by the nearness of the soft, seductive tone that greeted her. A woman no older than herself offered Briella a red-lipped grin. Dark eyes gauged her curiously.

  Briella smiled and held out her hand. “Hi. I was looking for someone who worked here.”

  The woman touched a delicate choker and stroked the red jewel sitting perfectly in the hollow of her neck. Her nails, painted black, were a stark contrast to her porcelain complexion, as was her black hair set in a big-curl, retro-type style.

  She looked like a voodoo priestess fitted in a look from the Fifties with a gothic accent, and she was stunning.

  The woman took Briella’s hand and shook
once, her grip light. A strange sensation of electrical shocks prickled up Briella’s fingers and forearm. Her smile faltered.

  “How may I help you?”

  “I would like to ask if you’d be willing to hang a brochure in your window for an upcoming event at Stackwood’s Gallery of Fine Art next weekend.”

  The woman watched her closely, those fathomless eyes boring into her skin, seemingly trying to peel back the layers of her mind. Briella stifled a shudder and took a small step back. She didn’t believe in the voodoo propaganda she found in the shops, but definitely believed in the art of voodoo. Right now, she had the bad feeling she was about to see how real voodoo could be.

  “Do you have a brochure?” the woman asked, slow, soft, deliberate. Briella had the strangest sensation that her voice held a spell, and that spell was trying to work its unwanted magic on her. She pulled out one of the few remaining brochures in her bag and handed it to the woman. A tense silence stretched between them. Briella glanced toward the door, suddenly itching to leave.

  The last time I come to a voodoo shop.

  “Briella Everett,” the woman said thoughtfully. “A debut. How…exciting.”

  Nothing in the woman’s voice supported said excitement. In fact, she sounded condescending.

  Briella folded her hands over her bag. “I hope I didn’t waste your time. I’ll be going.”

  The woman’s chin lifted and her thick-lashed eyes narrowed. “Come. I have tape behind the counter so you can put your brochure up.”

  Briella hesitated, eyeing the dainty woman as she moved with a steady grace through the narrow path of displayed statues, incense, and herbs. The woman paused and turned back to her. Briella tried to strip her body of its protest and forced herself to catch up with the woman.

  “Thank you. I appreciate your support.”

  “We try to…support our own.”

  Briella paused beside the counter as the woman slipped behind the register. She glanced around, taking in the dolls dangling from the ceiling amidst bunches of dried flowers.

  Movement to her right caught her attention. She stared at shimmering fabric draped over two mirrors. At first she thought light glinting off the threading caught her eye. Then she noticed shadows shifting behind the fabric.

  She stepped closer to the mirrors. The shadows grew more defined with each step. She reached forward and hooked the fabric on a finger…

  “Oh, I wouldn’t do that,” the woman said.

  For the second time, the woman’s unexpected nearness startled her. Briella’s arm jerked, and the fabric tugged away from the mirror.

  She stared, horrified, at an image that should have been her own. Instead, an older woman bedecked with trinkets banged silently against the mirror as though it were a pane of glass, eyes wide. Her cheeks were flushed red as she screamed and yelled, her sounds silent to Briella’s ears.

  “You do not listen, do you.”

  The tingle of magic sprang to life along Briella’s back. She spun around, ducking to the side as the woman opened an upheld palm. A smoky leash of purple-gray whipped out, lashing the air where Briella stood a moment ago.

  She slammed into a table with several trinkets, knocking them to the floor. The woman turned her serpent-like magic on Briella again. A smoky tentacle cut through shelves, bringing the contents crashing to the floor. Several items shattered, blocking her exit.

  “You might as well give in, Keeper.”

  The pulsing danger that fed her body energy froze. Briella shot the woman a sharp glance. Those pouty red lips stretched into a menacing grin.

  The whip lashed out at her.

  Briella shrieked, reeling back to escape the tip. She lost her footing, tripped over the merchandise scattered over the floor, and slammed into a glass case against the wall. Her hand smacked through the glass and shards tore into her hand and forearm. The coppery scent of blood assaulted her, but she couldn’t spare a breath to look at the damage. The pain told her enough.

  The smoky whip snagged her legs with the solidity of any real tether and yanked them from under her. The floor came up beneath her back mercilessly, jolting her entire body, making her bones rattle and the air shoot from her lungs. Her neck burned from the pressure of the sudden jerk as she tried to protect her head, and her chest ached as she struggled for breath.

  The woman used the whip of smoke to reel her in, unhindered by the shattered glass and tumbled merchandise pieces Briella slid through. Spears of pain erupted over her back as her shirt slipped up, exposing her skin to the sharp debris.

  The woman snapped her arm back.

  Briella dug into her bag as her body skidded to a halt at the woman’s feet.

  “There are only so many places to hide before we will catch all of you,” the woman said in that haunting voice. She leaned over Briella, unfurled her other fist, and revealed a small glowing silver orb in her palm. Briella’s hand just connected with the stun gun in her bag when she noticed several of those black misty snakes slithering toward her from every direction. “You will come with me until he hands over the dragonstone.”

  The woman twisted her hand.

  Briella yanked the gun from her bag, rammed her arm under the woman’s until the end hit her target, and engaged the trigger.

  The woman screamed, her small figure flailing backward. The snakes vanished in a soft explosion of black dust.

  Air finally flooded Briella’s lungs, and she gulped as much as she could. Her vision went briefly hazy, but she struggled to her feet and stumbled away from the woman.

  “No you don’t!”

  Something silver flew toward Briella, expanding into a large oval—

  She dropped to her knees and threw her arms over her head, a scream bolting up from her chest.

  Hard, unwavering strength cocooned her, pulling her to the floor. The deadly growl that reverberated throughout her body was as welcoming as it was terrifying. She lowered her arms and opened her eyes enough to see a swollen Syn twist around, his large body protecting hers.

  The sound that left his chest and filled the small shop snatched Briella’s breath. It vibrated through the floorboards and rattled what glass was left unshattered.

  A burst of blinding bright fire spewed from Syn’s mouth.

  The woman cut her arm across her body, a body that dissolved into black mist before the fire reached her. Briella shoved her head from beneath Syn’s body as the mist funneled up along the ceiling and disappeared into the wood.

  If it were possible for a person to lose their backbone, Briella would’ve sworn her every vertebra melted into the floor. She lay slack in Syn’s arms, items digging into her back, the pain in her arm searing her nerves. Each gasped breath added to the tremors that consumed her arms and legs.

  Syn straightened up. Stunning burnished red scales tipped in black covered his exposed skin. Talons retracted into his fingertips, his head reconfigured from the oddly beautiful cross between human and dragon, and the human Syn knelt beside her.

  It all took a split second. A split second for her to realize she had been wrong.

  A pitiful whimper escaped her as she scrambled onto her knees and threw herself into Syn’s body. Tension rode his muscles as he embraced her, his cheek pressed to the top of her head.

  “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” she murmured. “I should’ve listened to you.”

  When he finally eased her away, his gaze held a mixture of worry and anger, both flashing flames into his eyes. The same eyes that dropped to her bleeding arm.

  “How did you know where I was?”

  “You’re not the only stubborn one who doesn’t like to listen.”

  Without saying another word, he ripped a strip of cloth from the closest table covering and wrapped it around her wrist, which appeared to have the deepest cuts. The entire time he tended to her, from picking shards of glass from some of the cuts, to washing her arm with paper towels he dampened in the employee bathroom, Briella couldn’t take her eyes from him. Emotions
morphed constantly across his face as he focused intently on tending her wounds. His narrowed eyes barely met hers. She tried to hear his thoughts and found silence.

  “Sweet Goddess in this waking hell.”

  Briella spotted Taryn trekking through the mess at the front of the store.

  Syn cupped the side of her face. She looked up at him and earned her first crooked grin. “How’re you doing?”

  “I think I made a bad impression here. I don’t think this shop will promote my show.” Syn groaned and rolled his eyes. She winced as she tried to shift up off her knees. “Ow.”

  “Wait a moment.”

  Taryn stepped up to her and shook his head. “Damn, girl. If you have a thing against voodoo, you should’ve stayed out of the store.” Taryn looked around. “How many were here?”

  “One,” Briella said. “A woman.”

  That earned her two sets of intense eyes boring into her head.

  “A woman?” Taryn asked. A crease formed over his brows. “I’ve only encountered men.”

  “Whoever she was, she possessed advanced magic. She had no problem showing that when she misted and disappeared into the ceiling,” Syn said. “But she didn’t possess the tattoos or the silver in her eyes.”

  Everyone looked up at the wooden rafters.

  “Certain she was Baroqueth?” Taryn asked.

  “She called me Keeper,” Briella confirmed.

  “On that note, I think we should get moving before the keep-away magic she must have set at the front door wears off and people actually start coming into the store. Or more of our pals show up,” Taryn suggested. “Guess there will be a clearance sale.”

  Briella’s forehead wrinkled. “What do you mean, keep-away magic? I came in without a problem.”

  Taryn crouched beside Syn and hung his arms over his knees. “Gorgeous, that’s because it was a trap designed to snag you. Obviously, you were being watched.”

  Briella cut her attention back to Syn. The flames had died in his eyes, but a fierce protectiveness shone in their place.

  “You can’t underestimate them, sweet. The moment you do…” Syn waved a hand around the shop and exhaled sharply. “Please, I’ll help you in whatever you want and need to do, but let me come with you when you leave Taryn’s house. I don’t want to see this happen again.”