Fire and Flame (12 page)

He didn’t care that she’d joined every club he’d ever expressed an interest in and promptly taken it over with her charm and vivaciousness. How she’d done everything better than he had without putting forth any effort did not bother him now. He wasn’t even particularly worked up that she’d dated every friend he’d ever had. Because in the end, she would be his. Her reaction to his kiss proved it.

With a half smile, Brent shrugged. “We still fight like an old married couple but afterward I get to kiss her.”

“And Sara McKenna kisses like an angel.”

Brent’s mood abruptly plummeted.

Sara hadn’t participated in the kisses. He’d not experienced any angel kisses.

By Phoenix, he would.

****

Sara’s “date” turned cautiously friendly to her but downright lusty with Vanessa. And the hoyden ate it up while continuing to brush her hands over Brent in a proprietary fashion. Watching them together made her want to scream.

What had Brent told Freddy when they’d fetched shoes?

Sometimes Sara wished she could have more of a Fire witch mentality and less of a human one. It was nothing for her people to have intercourse with a witch one day and then return to their significant other the next. In fact, it was expected of them. She wasn’t sure she could do it. She’d avoided her duty because of it.

Had Brent given Vanessa the same speech as he’d given Sara this morning? And would he expect Sara to allow all of his children and their mothers to live in McKenna House?

There was simply no way she could abide it. Though she prided herself on being a pacifist, having all of Brent’s lovers living in her house would turn her violent. As would being forced to see the faces of his children by other women on a daily basis.

The situation would only work if she moved to New York. Brent would be free to breed with many as befitted a powerful high priest. He could keep his women at McKenna House as he wanted. She’d be none the wiser. All he had to do was let one of his children go.

Did she dare suggest it? He would assume she was jealous of the other witches. And how could she prove she wasn’t when she wasn’t entirely certain of the truth herself?

Seated side by side in the molded chairs at the mouth of the lane, Vanessa and Brent made a beautiful couple. Sara’s blood angrily raced in her ears. Perhaps it was how the hoyden’s hand squeezed over his that made Sara inhale a long breath to calm herself. She’d had always disliked Vanessa. And the way the woman had stolen the show tonight, luring both men, was the explanation for Sara’s dark mood.

It had to be because the alternative was ridiculous.

Sara would make the best of the situation. She’d gone out to have fun, to laugh for a little while. If she couldn’t do that bowling with Freddy then she’d have to find another plan for lifting her spirits.

In between hauling her heavy ball to the approach area and tracking back to her seat, Sara contemplated how to proceed. Her mood did a nosedive when Brent
got the first strike of the night. He also got the second. And the third.

To make the situation worse, Freddy thoughtlessly explained Sara’s deal to pay for the dinner of whoever got the first strike. So when the first game had finished without any additional strikes but plenty of gutter balls, it was time to look for fun elsewhere.

Sara suggested the others play a game without her while she got them bottles of water. Without waiting for their approval, she headed up to the snack bar. She didn’t stay in the long line that had formed. Instead, she made her way into the arcade.

One of the employees was emptying out the change holders. Sara asked for five dollars in quarters, and then challenged him to a duel on the Mortal Kombat game. The employee, a high schooler named David, was surprisingly good. They were evenly matched. Their similar skill levels made for great fun. Soon Sara found herself laughing both when she’d destroy her opponent and also when he’d do the same to her with a spectacular finishing move.

A small crowd formed around them. Brent was among those fanned behind her. His presence wasn’t a concern until David’s break ended and someone took up his spot. Sooner or later she’d have to duel Brent.

Sara pulverized her new partner with little effort. His girlfriend soon replaced him. Sara similarly destroyed the female with skilled button mashing. Only one additional failed challenger stepped up to the plate before Brent took the spot beside her. Determination set his handsome features tight as he slid his quarters into the machine then selected his character. He chose someone rather like him, dark haired and spry yet lethal.

A mere two moves into the duel were all that passed before it became clear she wasn’t going to easily win. Though they were well matched, Sara couldn’t simply button mash to take him down as she had with everyone else. To get around his character’s defensive poses, she had to resort to complex strings of moves that required her entire focus to pull off. Soon the game became work but it was work she felt she had to do.

Sara let out a triumphant cheer when she finally succeeded in destroying his digital character with a very thin sliver of health left on her own. And then she gave up her spot to someone else before Brent could steal her thunder with a rematch.

“You owe me dinner at Nepolese,” Brent called after her.

He trailed her to the snack bar. She pretended she hadn’t heard him as she gestured toward the water lining a small refrigerator behind the counter.

“Four please,” she told the snack bar attendant.

“Friday.”

She cast a glance back at Brent as she handed over the cash for the water. “I’ll buy you a gift certificate.”

“That wasn’t the deal.”

Sara gathered the sweating bottles against her chest before starting for the others. “The deal was made with Freddy. Not you,” she replied in a cool tone, knowing he’d follow close behind.

“Freddy was making plans to take Vanessa to dinner when I left them.”

While Sara wasn’t particularly surprised, she couldn’t stop herself from snapping out a question. “What did you say to him at the rental counter?”

“He asked why Vanessa was here. I told him the truth.”

She sent an impatient look over her shoulder. “I know you didn’t tell him the truth.”

Brent’s features remained steady as he replied. “I told him her boyfriend had threatened her and she was staying with us where she feels safe. That’s the truth.”

The operative word in his statement was loud and clear. “You said with ‘us’?”

“Yes,” he replied without a trace of remorse.

“Now he thinks we live together!”

“We do live together.”

Her pitch and volume lifted in exasperation. “I’m staying
temporarily
! We don’t live together.”

“Did you decide you didn’t need the inheritance?”

Sara stomped to their lane rather than answer his frustrating question. She all but threw the water bottles at Freddy and Vanessa. And then like the teenager she’d thought she’d outgrown, she snatched her purse from the floor so she could stalk to the entrance, calling back only, “Don’t feel well. Sorry. Bye.”

Though Brent shouted after her, she didn’t slow. And she certainly didn’t stop.

Chapter Fifteen

Brent’s nostrils flared when he finally made it out to the parking lot after making sure Vanessa would be fine alone with Freddy for the evening. Sara’s car was long gone. He tugged his phone from his pocket. The handy program to track her whereabouts showed her heading southwest.

Was she going home? Had she truly meant it when she’d said she didn’t feel well? Worry poked at his gut. What if she was sick? What if she’d developed the rare illness that had killed her mother?

Brent dashed for his car. After setting the phone in its holder where he could watch her trip, he started the engine then peeled out hot onto her trail. The tracking software showed she wasn’t going home. She’d passed McKenna House on her way somewhere else.

Then the GPS dot disappeared. Breathlessly he waited for it to reappear. Minutes passed with no dot. What might have been a temporary problem was now one of two things: she’d figured out what he’d done to her phone or her phone had been destroyed.

Brent hoped to Phoenix it was the former. He shoved the pedal to the floor even as his heart jumped into his throat. Damn her. Why couldn’t she have waited for him?

And why had he run her off? Couldn’t he have gotten along with her for once?

Desperately he wracked his brain for where she would go south of the house. The mall was north. Every store she enjoyed was as well. Likewise, there were no restaurants of note in that area.

Where had she gone?

Brent lifted his head to the sun, praying for guidance from the Fire that ruled it. He had to find her. Because if anything happened to her…he wouldn’t be able to live with himself.

****

The ground held less of Sara’s father than their home did. But here in the peaceful cemetery she could be alone with her thoughts without sensing Brent everywhere. She carefully knelt at the chilly stone with Fintan’s name carved in fine serif lettering.

Closing her eyes solemnly, she took a long breath. Exhaling it did little to help her trepidation.

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” she whispered. “I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t be whining. You didn’t like it when I whined. I’m trying to be strong.” She faltered on her next words. “But I can’t, Daddy. Why did you have to make it so hard on me when you left?” Sara choked raggedly. “Why did you have to pick
him
?” Gathering courage, she went on, “Would you have condemned me to a life of misery because he won’t let me leave?”

“Well, if it isn’t Fintan’s princess.”

Sara pivoted on her knees until she faced the derisive speaker. A sneer filled the handsome male’s face. Though he was a distance from her, the thick-necked blond was familiar. A witch of the Ena family. Her heart tumbled in her chest.

“You were always a pretty little thing, weren’t ya? Maybe there’s something for me in this chore after all.”

She cautiously got to her feet. The Ena witch’s gaze fixed on her hands, no doubt watching for an attack. She wouldn’t burn him unless he touched her.

Sara opened herself up to the aether. Silently she channeled soft energy within the seed of her power. The Ena witch started for her at his menacing pace. She worked to super heat her skin. He’d expect fireballs, fire beams, and every other projectile power their race claimed. He wouldn’t be prepared for a defensive attack.

There would be a very short period to get to safety once he grabbed her. Sara scanned the cemetery for cover. Tombstones dotted the lush grass with the odd obelisk at irregular intervals. A stone crypt a few hundred feet to the west might provide protection. Sara stood rigidly waiting for her foe to close the distance.

His lips spread into a wicked grin of white teeth. “Come here, pretty princess.”

Sara’s jaw set with an audible click at the pet name.

The witch laughed. “My daddy would have made you fuck him even as you cried for yours. Then he would have given you to us.” His attention cast to the stone in the ground. “Maybe I’ll just fuck you on Fintan’s gravestone while you cry.”

Bile rose in Sara’s throat. Her reaction lasted only as long as it took the witch to close the distance. He reached for her arm. A high-pitched screech burst from his chest when his thick fingers closed over her searing forearm. The witch released her, flapping his pained hand.

Sara shot forward, heart riding in her mouth as she fled to the crypt. He tackled her to the grass halfway to her destination. Her chin slammed into a stranger’s stone marker. Pain shot up her jaw and on into her skull.

“I’d fucking set you on Fire if we weren’t in public,” he snarled from his spot pressed atop her. “And if I could stand fucking a crispy critter.”

He shoved his hand between them and then groped at her breast through her shirt. Sara held back a whimper from the sharp squeeze of her delicate skin.

The witch hopped to his feet in a spry motion. He buried his boot into her left side. Air exploded out of her lungs. Sara frantically gasped to replace it even as he kicked her in the ribs.

The Ena witch grabbed hold of her ankle, hauling her over the grass toward Fintan’s grave. “Burn me again and I’ll make your death slow and excruciating.”

Sara was going to die at the hands of the Ena witches. It was simply a matter of when and what she’d have to endure prior.

If she attacked the witch, he’d defend himself and in the process kill her quickly. But attacking would mean becoming like every other Fire witch.

How important were her values to her versus a quick death?

Using the vise grip on her ankle, the Ena witch twisted her around to face him. And then he vaulted atop her with brutal force. As if he were no better than an animal, he tore at her shirt and shoved at her jeans. Sara might have gasped if she’d been able to draw in a breath.

She stared up at the setting sun as she struggled for air. Was this a nightmare?

Nightmares had never hurt. Right now she hurt.

“Bitch,” the witch snarled. “How do you like it?”

He lifted his hands above her chest. A maniacal gleam shimmered in his dark eyes.

He wouldn’t.

The Ena witch shoved his palms to her bare breasts. Superheated skin burned her nipples. His cackling did nothing to drown out the horrible sizzling of flesh. Tears of agony streamed down her face, blurring everything.

“What…?”

The weight trapping her abruptly lifted.

Freedom? Sara should move. She should run while she still could. But she simply hurt too much.

There was a dull smack of flesh on flesh. A familiar voice cursed. Brent’s face appeared above her through the watery blur. It was the last thing she recalled seeing before everything went black.

****

Brent intended to murder someone. First he had to get Sara home. He had to call a Healer for her. And once she was healed, he’d shout her deaf.

Carefully he checked for signs of damage apart from the blistered skin of her chest. He would have liked to ask her if her neck or back hurt but she’d passed out as soon as she’d seen him. At least she wasn’t feeling the pain. If they were lucky, she’d stay unconscious until the Healer was finished.