Fire Danger (7 page)

Phoenix began walking back up to the house, cutting through the scrub of the property as he did so. Rachel’s fear beat at him, but he noted she brought it under control, muting it to a part of her brain where she could be afraid but still function.

The woman had a lot of strength, whether she knew it or not. He had to find out exactly who she was and what had happened to cause her to be alone and unaware of her Ifrit side. The presence of the Demonos, her interest in Rachel, made this part-Ifrit more interesting than normal half-breeds.

His cock grew semi-hard picturing the lush curves of the female waiting as he approached. His breath shortened at the thought of her naked form under his. It was so easy to picture: full breasts, small waist flaring into the curve of her hips, hips that shielded the hopefully untrimmed juncture of her.

An image of the two of them entwined, him thrusting into her, shot through him. It hadn’t come from his mind. He never saw himself that way, from a stranger’s point of view, even if he was looking at himself in the mirror.

Good. The attraction went both ways. Good, and bad. It was a complication he didn’t need, but now that it was here it was as if it had always been inevitable.

He reached the bottom of the balcony and with a small push, leaped onto its second-floor height.

She was waiting, her hand on the balcony door and a question in her eyes.

“Haures,” he said with no further explanation. She raised an eyebrow and he shrugged. “Later, Rachel.” He reached for her. She let him pull her into his arms without resisting, her hands coming to rest on his shoulders.

His nostrils widened and he sniffed her face and then moved lower, to the glands in her neck. He didn’t stop there. He shifted, gently nudging her arms away from her body so he could smell her armpit.

His face brushed across her peaked nipples, and with a sudden movement, Phoenix took one cloth-covered nipple in his mouth, suckling through the cotton.

Then he smelled her other armpit and straightened. “You smell like fear, but fear that’s under control.”

“I refuse to be afraid anymore. Well…” she said in a self-deprecating tone, “at least I refuse to let it rule me. When that thing was bathed in fire, I was scared witless. But then I remember that I can do that too. That’s cool. They want me to be afraid, and I won’t give in to it.”

He could still taste the threads of the cloth in his mouth, but mostly he tasted the hard nipple under the cloth. Rachel had nothing under the top, and the thought of pushing it aside, baring her breasts, finished the job her faint thoughts had started. Phoenix hardened in a fierce rush.

He tried to focus on what she was saying. She wouldn’t let fear rule her. That was good. Right now he wanted something other than fear.

“I’m glad.” He gripped her shoulders, meeting her eyes. “We all need courage, but you most of all. You’ve only been in this game for a few days. You need to be a queen, not a pawn, and for that you need courage.”

She swallowed. “Okay, Aleric. If I’m going to show the world what I’m made of, I can’t cower here. Why not make a day of it and go to Fisherman’s Wharf? I could use a good tourist attraction.”

Phoenix had thought she would stay holed up here, in his house. The fact that she didn’t want to hide touched the warrior in him and made him want to claim her that much more.

“Perhaps we can flush out some game at the same time. I’ll drive.”

* * * * *

Fisherman’s Wharf, one of San Francisco’s largest tourist attractions, was part of the shoreline along the San Francisco Bay. Boats and barges were visible on the water, occasionally sounding their horns: some near, and some dirge-like booms further out. Even through the throng and press of constant humanity, the people assigned to show the tourists a good time on the tourist boats could be heard calling out the attractions as they went by on the choppy water. All around them people moved, ebbing past them.

Rachel almost staggered under the sudden onslaught of voices in her head. The rush filled her mind, beating on the inside of her skull like small hammers.

“Get out of my damned way.”

“Fucking tourists.”

“Hey, look! Ghirardelli Square! Chocolate!”

Rachel’s head swam. He gestured to her head as if to tell her to shield. She started one of her nursery rhymes and was relieved when the press of human thoughts faded. This was all so new to her, and she was still getting used to the idea that she could read minds.

They parked in a metered spot and walked down to Pier 39, located between the Embarcadero and Powell Street, Rachel’s favorite tourist attraction. Phoenix walked slightly behind her, keeping an eye on the people around her. In this form he didn’t look like an Elemental, only a very tall, very broad-shouldered man. The blue shirt he wore was clearly tailored for him and was probably more expensive than her monthly salary. She saw him as the powerful Elemental, ready to leap into the air at the slightest menace, and also as humans saw him: a tall man with an aura of power. It was an odd sensation to see and yet not see at the same time.

Down on the water, playing among the pier, jetty boards and logs, were sea lions of all shapes and sizes, basking in the sun or just rolling around in the surf. There was a sea lion center, relatively new to the area, but she avoided it. She preferred to see the sea lions without knowing tons of facts and details.

“Elemental.”

It was not Phoenix’s voice. Three of the seals looked at them curiously. There was an overlay, a human shadow that stretched beyond their sea lion form and onto the other animals.

Rachel glanced at Phoenix and back to the sea lions.

“Shapeshifters. This is Ondine’s domain.”

The sea lions gave them another glance, and then, as one, the three that were more than sea creatures turned and dove into the bay.

Rachel filed the sighting away for future use.

Beyond them was the island of Alcatraz, its small hill seeming innocent. Phoenix pointed out the tourist attraction and smiled.

“Want to go?” he asked, cupping her elbow with his hand and leaning into her.

“Can’t.” She looked up at the board hanging above the ticket counter. To the right was the bridge leading to the boats that took tourists to the isolated former prison. “Sold out.”

She’d been on the tour once. The island wasn’t anything special once you landed. She learned it was the currents and the cold water that made it so hard to escape. Many had tried; almost all had failed. The lighthouse, part of the original use of the island, still operated, but otherwise it was inhabited by birds and tourists.

“Let’s get something to eat,” she said, knowing she sounded relieved that the tour was off the table. “I don’t know about you, but I could eat an elephant.”

His face pulled down as if in dismay, but humor danced in his eyes. “They’re tough and sinewy. They are not worth the trouble, even for the meat they provide. How about some eggs and ham?”

She considered, and her stomach rumbled as if in response. “I’m going to be a thousand pounds, knowing you.”

Phoenix put his arm around her. They fit together like two halves of a whole, or the interlocking pieces of a puzzle. There was something primal, and very male, in him. The idea of belonging to someone touched her somewhere that had been cold for years. She wanted to bathe in his fire and bathe him in return.

“Don’t worry.” The mirth in his eyes had been replaced by something dark and sexy. “There are ways to work off the extra pounds.”

* * * * *

It was an odd assignment, Ron thought, even knowing he wasn’t paid to think. He had no idea why the creature would want this couple followed or reported on. It wasn’t what he had been hired to do. He had gotten a call a few hours ago, the command to track and report on a pair. He had been given a slightly grainy photograph and the news that they were currently at Fisherman’s Wharf. One look at the photo and he had committed it to memory.

He wasn’t sure why the photograph would be grainy. It appeared to be from a surveillance camera. That struck him as strange. It would have been easy enough to slide a digital camera under a coat and take a picture, so why bother with anything else?

I’m not paid to think
, he reminded himself.

Turning his attention back to the pair, he frowned. They seemed like a typical couple, touching each other frequently, looking at each other far too much and acting for all the world like nobody else existed.

It made him sick. He wanted to rip them into little pieces and toss them into the water.

He took several deep, calming breaths, reminding himself that he was just there to do a job, nothing more. It didn’t matter if he was there to kill one politician, one lover or a whole group of people. He didn’t know why, and he didn’t know why he cared, but the sight of the two of them together made him want to kill someone or something. No, someone. Them.

He continued to follow at a safe distance, fingering the necklace in his pocket the creature had given him as he did so. He’d been told he had to wear it at all times, even when sleeping. He’d nodded and done as asked, reluctant to ask why. He hadn’t put it on yet. His employer had made it clear by his body language that there should be no other questions. He didn’t know why. Just a quirk of these people. Those dealing on the other side of the law never liked curiosity. He wasn’t normally curious. There was no reason he should care. He’d been asked to do much stranger things in the past.

It mattered. He didn’t know why, but it did. He watched them go into a wharfside café restaurant, joining the queue for a table.

The over-tall man and woman were easy to follow, even at a distance. His fists curled as he followed them. He wanted to tear at them, rip them apart.

He stopped and took a deep breath, struggling to bring his rolling emotions under control. He was furious, needing, wanting to hurt something. Badly.

On the busy wharf, people flowed around him, some giving him dirty looks for stopping, but stepping around him even as they glared at him. He moved slightly, shifting to the edge of another café, a place where he could keep the big couple in sight without being seen himself.

Reaching into his pocket, he slipped the necklace over his head and was unaccountably soothed. His teeth bared in a snarl before he realized he was doing it.

* * * * *

A mental lance of hate and anger flowed inside Rachel’s head, piercing it. On instinct she turned to Phoenix, who was standing impassively beside her as they waited for their turn. “Aleric?”

“Char and burn. I feel it.”

His head came up, and he scanned the café they were in. His eyes narrowed, only his head moving. His shoulders flexed instinctively, shifting as if the wings were there.

Loathing. Deep loathing emanated from somewhere. The kind of rolling hate that was so profound there were no words for it.

The host called another patron and they moved up in line. Phoenix’s head turned, and she followed his gaze to the outside as he continued to scan the crowd. She didn’t know what he was looking for.

Flesh rending, a hail of bullets ripping through skin, neat puncture holes on entry, exploding wounds, blood and sinew on exit. Blood spurting from a severed carotid artery, the knife wound jagged.

The images were horrific, and Rachel squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block them out. Her fingers heated and darkness flowed through her. She focused. The images clawed at her, making her wince.

“Shield,”
Phoenix commanded.

She had a low-level crude shield in place at the moment to dim the human noise, but this rolling emotion pierced right through that.
Three blind mice, see how they run…

The images slowed as she blocked them with stronger white noise, but didn’t stop.

She also observed the crowd, trying to find the person or people sending these images.

The host called them, and Phoenix slipped a hand under her arm to guide her. She wondered if it was also to keep her close in case of trouble. They walked to their small inside table, Phoenix continuing to scan the area as they did so.

They sat at the table, Phoenix awkwardly, his long legs and huge frame settling like a pretzel in the space.

The images were still gruesome—limbs being torn off, faces being bloodied—but her shielding helped.

He waited until the host had left.

Phoenix was beginning to focus in on one area, narrowing to the café across the street, scanning, searching…

Then, as suddenly as they started, the images stopped, winking out as if cut off by a knife.

“Damn,” Phoenix said softly. “He’s got a blocker.”

She cocked her head, studying him.

“There are devices—both sides have them but we rarely use them—that can stop the flow of thoughts. It’s as if a barrier goes up, blocking all thoughts of both the wearer and the world around him. They can’t hear us and we can’t hear them. Haures must have given her minion one. Unusual.”

“Do you…did you…want to go out and look for him?”

Phoenix shrugged, flicking open the menu. “With the blocker, he could be anyone. He is an underling, one of many the Demonos will lure into service before this is over. There are many like him. He is of little importance.”

His casual dismissal of the man rankled, and Rachel stiffened. He met her eyes, understanding flaring in their brown depths. For a few, intense moments there was nothing but the two of them, the hunger plain in his eyes.

“I am unused to humans,” he said after a long pause. “I am afraid I’m a bit out of practice dealing with mortals. Especially half-Ifrit ones.”

As an apology, it would have to do.

She concentrated but couldn’t hear the angry thoughts. Other feelings, from happy to murderous, beat at her until Rachel put up her shield. She breathed out a sigh of relief when the mind noise faded.

Try as she might, Rachel couldn’t get past the thoughts that drummed in her head, left there by the angry whoever-it-was. They ate quickly, and Rachel paid little attention to the unimpressive fare. After lunch Rachel found she had lost her taste for tourist attractions. Instead, she told him she wanted to be at his house, where it was safe. Their walk back to his car was in companionable, albeit watchful, silence. He had taken her hand without asking, and laced their fingers together. Their joined palms swung between them. She liked the warmth of his skin and his powerful body near her. It made her tingle and want to curve closer to him and feel his skin under hers.