Burn (The Sinclair Falls Novels Book 1)

by Shae Mallak

  "I'll try," he replied. "But no promises."

  "Good enough," I sighed, shaking my head. I slid my hand over and rested it on top of his and he went very still. "I'm sorry about earlier," I said after a pause. "I didn't mean—I didn't mean it the way it came out," I apologized. "I'm not disappointed by you, I'm just...overwhelmed. You saved us, whether I understand the circumstances very well or not, and I am grateful to you, Jonah."

  "Grateful..." he muttered, disappointed by my word choice.

  "Just listen!" I snapped, moving up on one elbow to glare down at him. "I am grateful for everything you've done for my family—"

  "I did it for you, Ev," he said.

  "I said listen!" I scolded. He mimed zipping his lip and I continued. "I'm grateful for everything you've done for us and, like it or not, in a measly three days you have managed to become a part of this family—and not just because you help pay the bills," I smirked. He chuckled. "You are...aggravating," I said, "and irritating and temperamental and stubborn—"

  "What a list of praises," he moaned, rolling his eyes. "Do go on."

  I smacked him lightly on his arm. "Did I mention exasperating?" I added. "But...."

  "Oh, I like but!" Jonah said eagerly, propping himself up on one elbow facing me.

  "But..." I repeated. "I could also say that about Addis and Ava most days, and I love them, so..."

  "What are you trying to say, Evelyn?" he asked cautiously.

  "I don't know," I sighed. "I don't know a lot about you, actually," I pointed out. "Let alone how I feel about you, but I do know that you're part of us—part of this—" I gestured vaguely around us. "For good."

  A big, ridiculously happy grin lit up Jonah's entire face at my words. "Yeah?"

  "Yeah," I nodded. "Like it or not, you're one of us now."

  He celebrated with a kiss, pushing me back against the carpet, one hand cupping my cheek while the other arm held most of his body weight off of me, but letting his chest press lightly against mine.

  "Ahem—" Greg coughed loudly from the door. "I've got to stop catching you two like this," he teased.

  "You've got to learn when to just walk away quietly," Jonah muttered, his lips brushing against the corner of my mouth. I laughed, but pushed Jonah away a little so I could sit up and he reluctantly let me.

  "Hobbs said he and Cutler will be here within the hour to check out the office and listen to that voicemail," Greg said.

  "You okay with that?" Jonah asked me.

  "Well, I don't really have a choice, do I?" I replied with a shrug.

  "You don't have to stay here if you don't want to," Jonah offered. "Greg could take you and the twins off somewhere and you could avoid the whole thing."

  "I can't avoid it forever," I said. "Besides, they'll want my statement or whatever, right? I might as well stick around and face this whole messy thing straight on."

  "I'll be right beside you, Ev," Jonah promised. He moved his hand to cover mine and a pleasant warmth worked its way up my arm and through my chest. It wasn't the same sort of sizzle I was used to feeling whenever Jonah touched me. It wasn't a burning demand—like it'd been only a few seconds prior—but rather a sort of...cozy assurance. It was a nice change of pace, I had to admit.

  "You know," Jonah said to me after Greg left again. "We have some time before Hobbs and Cutler get here...We could..." I gave him my best not-going-to-happen look. "Talk," he said with a smirk, "I was going to say talk."

  "Sure you were," I said, rolling my eyes. "We do have a few unfinished conversations," I agreed after a pause. "A lot of questions I could use some answers to."

  "What do you wanna know?" he prompted, leaning back on his hands. "No more secrets—I'll tell you anything you want to know."

  "What was the big danger you were trying to protect me from?" I asked. "If it wasn't the other dragon...what was it that was so dangerous?"

  "Is dangerous," Jonah corrected with a frown. "And it has to do with you being a dragon breeder," he began explaining.

  "What's so dangerous about that?" I asked.

  "Nothing, in itself," he assured me. "That's the thing—biologically, you are capable of carrying a living, baby dragon inside of you. It makes you kind of immune to...well, a lot. And while that's a good thing during flu season and when you're caught in a house fire, it's not so good when it's used against you."

  "Used against me? How so?" I asked, not understanding. "How could something like that be used against me?"

  "Greg explained a little about breeders, didn't he?" Jonah asked. I nodded. "There are different sorts for different kinds of shifters," he reiterated.

  "Bear-breeders, wolf-breeders, etc," I nodded. "Yeah, he said that. He said dragons were rare, and so that made me rare and valuable."

  "That's the simple version, yeah," he sighed. He raked a hand through his hair and tipped his head back to stare at the ceiling.

  "Okay, what's the complicated version then," I prompted when he didn't continue right away. '

  "Well..." he hesitated.

  "Jonah," I scolded. "Just tell me. You promised—"

  "I know." He exhaled all at once then resumed his explanation. "As a dragon-breeder, you're not just compatible with dragon shifters," he said quickly. "You're compatible with all types of shifters. Well, all paranormals, really."

  I stared at him with a blank expression, not quite understanding the problem. What was so dangerous about that? Why would it matter who I was compatible with if Jonah was the one who claimed me? The green dragon challenged him on it, but he already said that it wasn't a normal occurrence—the exception to the rule. So I could have babies with other types of shifters. I could also have babies with regular humans, too. What was the big deal?

  "That makes you valuable, Ev," Jonah said like it cleared up everything.

  "But Greg said there were a lot of other types of breeders," I said with a frown. "That it was just dragons that were rare. Why am I such a big deal?"

  "Breeding with a dragon-breeder for other kinds of shifters makes their lineage stronger. It...gives them a stronger, more powerful edge compared to other shifters of their kind. Power makes people do drastic things. Throughout history, dragon-breeders have been hunted and abused for their bloodlines. They were kidnapped, enslaved, sold to the highest bidder. Even if they were already claimed and marked, breeder hunters would kill the mate and drag them off, either for themselves or for a hefty profit."

  "But that was a long time ago," I said. "People don't have slaves anymore."

  "Out in the open they don't," Jonah replied seriously. "But it still has been known to happen. There are laws against it now, but it doesn't stop everybody. Especially if you aren't marked, they can technically take you away from me and I can't legally prosecute them. It's only illegal if you're fully claimed."

  "Which is another question—" I frowned. "I keep hearing that term thrown around. Kinney said it the other night, and I've heard it from you and Greg too. What does that mean?"

  "In the human world, there's a proposal, and an acceptance—both to get engaged and to become officially married," he said. "The whole 'I do, do you?' thing. In the paranormal world, we have our own version. When a man is serious about a girl, he makes a claim—the proposal, if you will. Now, the woman can either accept his claim or refuse it. Sometimes getting an answer can take awhile—women are fickle," he smirked. I glared at him. "Well, it's true," he laughed. "A human woman wears a ring to show she is married, an outward symbol of her union with someone. A mark is the paranormal version."

  "Why do I have a feeling that a mark has nothing to do with jewelry," I muttered.

  "Because it doesn't," Jonah answered with a small smile. "It's done a little differently depending on what sort you are, but in almost every version, a mark is a sensual, intimate ceremony between the man and the woman and results in some outward show of her commitment to him."

  "But what is it?" I prompted.

  "A permanent mark on the skin," Jonah said. "I
t can be anything from a love bite to a brand, a tattoo, a scar, or a myriad of other things, really, but it's always permanent and its always somewhere on the body, and is unique to the person giving it."

  "Have you marked anyone before?" I asked curiously.

  "No," he shook his head. "You will be my first and only," he said seriously.

  There was his familiar stubborn confidence. Will be. His choice of words was not lost on me. I wanted to call him out on it, but refrained only because I didn't want to start another argument. Not only were we going to have guests soon, but an argument would prevent me from gleaning more answers out of him. That, and I wasn't so sure he was wrong.

  "What does your mark look like?" I asked instead.

  "You'll have to wait and find out, sweetheart," he smirked. "But it'll go—" he reached over and put a hand on my back just below my left shoulder blade. "Right here," he said, pressing a little on the spot.

  Heat shot up my spine and then settled between my thighs, burning with the desire to straddle him, roll my hips against him with his hands gripping my ass and his mouth pressed against mine....

  Focus, I snapped at myself. I was not going to shag Jonah on the floor of my father's office. I hated myself for even imagining it! But god, the thought of him hot between my thighs—I was practically moaning in pleasure just thinking about it!

  "Will it hurt?" I asked. My voice was choked and thick, fighting past the mental images of gyrating on Jonah's lap and trying to ignore the tingling sensation between my thighs that was growing stronger rather than weaker.

  Jonah's hand slid slowly from my back and he leaned back on his elbows, staring up at me with an open, honest face. I hadn't realized how many secrets he'd been hiding behind that face until the mask was lowered. I felt like I was staring at the real Jonah for the first time.

  I wanted to know him as well as he seemed to know me but was a little afraid of what I would find. I knew only shadows and whispers about his past, and now that I knew what he was.... But was who he used to be the same man beside me? I knew he was an ex-criminal. I knew he used to do work for Kinney—dirty, illegal work he wouldn't tell me about. Did he kill people? Was I daydreaming about having sex with a murderer?

  "Not unless its forced," Jonah answered.

  "You can do that?" I asked in surprise. Surely Jonah would never—

  "I would never force a mark on anyone," Jonah replied firmly. "It's the worst form of enslavement—forcing someone to be tied to you forever. Even if they ran, even if they dyed their hair or changed their name, the mark would remain, a beacon drawing the claimer to his claim. That's why it has to be mutual—it has to be accepted. You need to know what you're getting into and still want to do it," he said seriously. "Do you understand?"

  "Sort of," I nodded. "So, hypothetically," I began cautiously. "If—if—" I emphasized, "I were to accept your mark and then, for whatever reason, disappeared..." I looked down at him curiously. His hair was a mess and his eyes were tired but fixed wholly on me like nothing else in the world existed.

  "I would find you," he finished. "Even without a mark, Evelyn, I would find you. I promise you that."

  "And if I didn't want to be found?" I ventured. Pain washed over his face, but he kept his eyes pinned on mine.

  "I would step back if you wanted me to," he replied. I knew from the tortured look on his face he was telling me the truth. "If you asked me to, Ev, I would step back. I won't stop protecting you," he added fiercely. "I would die first before I could stop protecting you. Of course," he scoffed, sitting up and breaking our gaze, "walking away from you just might kill me anyway."

  "There's been too much death in my life," I said softly. "I can't have your death weighing on me as well." Jonah's mouth quirked in a crooked smile. "But it's nice to know you'll come looking if I ever get lost," I chuckled.

  "Dragon GPS," he joked. "Lifetime guarantee."

  "Caution," I added, mimicking a commercial ad, "prone to overheating and spontaneous combustion. Batteries not included."

  Jonah laughed heartily, throwing his head back and his chest shaking as his roar of amusement filled the room. It'd been a long time since that room had seen laughter. It felt good to bring it back.

  "Oh, Ev, I like this side of you," he smiled.

  "What side of me?" I asked in confusion, still chuckling at my own joke.

  "Relaxed," he replied easily. "In your element. I like it. Don't get me wrong," he smirked at me, "I like your other sides too, but this one is one of my favorites so far."

  "One of?" I cocked my head to the side. "Which side, then, is your favorite?" I asked.

  "The side of you that kissed me back at the house," he answered honestly. "The side that lets me keep kissing you."

  "I guess I should've seen that answer coming," I muttered, rolling my eyes. "You know," I said after a moment, "I don't really know that much about you," I pointed out.

  "Of course you do," he protested.

  "No," I shook my head adamantly. "Not really. I know you're a dragon shifter—and that only recently. I know you're an ex-criminal, but I don't know what it was you did. I know you're a slightly-shady business man who is extremely successful at what he does—whatever it is you do—and I know you have a bit of a temper and an affinity for the outdoors."

  "Seems to me you know an awful lot," he said. "All the important bits."

  "No," I denied again. "I don't know who your parents were. I don't know your birthday. I don't know your favorite color or favorite dessert. I don't know where you went to college—or if you even went to college. I don't know who any of your friends are—except Greg—or if you even have friends aside from him. I don't know if you prefer the left or the right side of the bed or if you've ever killed anyone before—" I stopped short, realizing too late what fell out of my mouth in the middle of my ramble. Jonah went very still and neither of us moved or said anything for a while. Finally—slowly—Jonah started talking.

  "My parents were William and Jennifer Carson," he said. "My mother died when I was a teenager and my father was remarried to a witch a few years later. I hated that woman." He paused for a long time and I wasn't sure if he was going to say anything more. "My birthday," he eventually spoke again, "is November 16th; I'll be thirty this year. I went to college at Dartmouth for a business degree. Graduated top of my class."

  "Figures," I murmured quietly. He smiled.

  "Greg is one of the few people I actually consider a true friend," he continued. "Although there are others, but none of them live in Sinclair Falls. I sleep on the left side," he said, then took a deep breath and closed his eyes. "And I have killed before."

  He didn't elaborate and I didn't want him to. I didn't need details; my imagination gave me enough imagery on its own. Were they innocent people he killed? They would've had families—people they loved. A daughter mourning her father's death or a wife mourning her husband. Lives torn apart and changed forever from one strike of Jonah's hand. Like ours was torn apart by whoever killed my father.

  I stared at his hand against the carpet. Killer's hands. Lover's hands. They were hands that had known cruelty but also knew kindness. I'd seen him interact with the twins, gentle and caring. But I'd also seen him at Kinney's den—and that was just a fraction of the man he could be. I knew that now. The question was—did it change anything?

  Before I could decide, the doorbell ran downstairs and Jonah was standing up, offering his hand to help me up.

  "Hobbs and Cutler are here," he said quietly.

  He waited there, his hand extended to me, and I just sat there and stared at it, trying to decide if I wanted to take it and feeling like that small decision would change everything.

  "Evelyn?" I dragged my eyes from his hand, following the line of his dragon up his arm until my gaze locked with his. This moment felt so important and it stretched for what felt like an eternity. An eternity to decide if I was going to trust the Jonah I knew or to judge the man he used to be.

  Jonah wou
ld never hurt me. I knew that. Hadn’t he proved that much repeatedly over the last few days? My feelings for the man aside, he would never hurt me or my family. Was that enough to trust a man who once took another man's life? Would he kill again, if the opportunity presented itself to him? If I was in danger, yes. I knew that without a doubt. Jonah would kill for me and he wouldn't hesitate to do so.

  The small voice in the back of my head that was my moral conscience told me not to trust him. To run away and not look back. But there was another voice begging me to stay. But which was louder? Which one was I going to listen to?

  Slowly, I put my hand in Jonah's and it wrapped around mine tightly as he lifted me to my feet. At the same time, the door opened and Greg and officers Hobbs and Cutler strode into the office.