Burn (The Sinclair Falls Novels Book 1)

by Shae Mallak

  I went to the kitchen first and really did get myself a drink of water—just in case bear-shifters had really good hearing or something. I waited a few minutes before making my move. Judging by Greg's tired eyes, a few minutes was all it would take for him to fall back asleep. I sipped on my glass of water, even flipping on the television for good measure, keeping the volume soft but loud enough to hear a murmur upstairs if Greg was still listening. I felt horrible for deceiving him but I knew if I told him what I was up to, he would stop me. Jonah would've stopped me if he knew what I was doing too.

  After what I hoped was a sufficient amount of time, I crept to the front door and carefully plucked Greg's keys from the hook and slowly and carefully snuck out the door.

  The tricky part was getting the car started without waking Greg up. I really wasn't sure how good his hearing was or how hard of a sleeper so I ended up sitting in his Jeep for another five minutes deliberating whether it would be easier to just walk to Jonah's place or call an Uber.

  "You're being ridiculous. You're not on some secret spy mission. You're just starting a car to drive to Jonah's house...in order to call a criminal so you can catch a dragon who is probably also a murderer. Yeah," I scoffed, rolling my eyes at myself. "No biggie." I slid my eyes shut and took a deep breath, then turned the key in the ignition, grateful for his quiet engine and low music volume.

  After I backed out of the driveway, I looked back and spotted Greg's face in one of the upper windows and he looked pissed. Immediately my phone started ringing—Greg calling, of course—so I turned the volume off and threw the phone into the empty passenger seat. Greg was going to have to wait. I needed to make another phone call first.

  I parked in Jonah's driveway, unable to remember the code to get into the garage. Lucky for me, the key Jonah gave me worked for the front door, too. I moved quickly, throwing the door closed behind me as I hurried upstairs to the office, getting a little turned around in the process, but eventually finding my destination. It only took a few minutes fiddling with the telephone to figure out how to redial the number Kinney called from the first time, then I just waited. Surprise of surprises, Kinney answered on the fourth ring.

  "Joe?" he hissed. "I thought you were—"

  "This isn't Joe," I said, cutting him off. Kinney went silent and for a second I was afraid he would hang up on me, but he didn't. Thankfully. "This is Evelyn Aberdeen." More silence. "I'm sorry to call you this way, but Jonah is in trouble. He's been arrested for murder and he didn't do it—"

  "I know," Kinney said.

  "He never got your message," I supplied. "But I overheard it—long story," I sighed. "And I need to know."

  "I can't tell you," Kinney answered curtly.

  "Please," I pleaded. "It's the only way to clear Jonah's name! I need to know who the green dragon is! Please, Kinney, I just need a name!"

  "I'm sorry, Miss Aberdeen, but I won't put you in danger. Jonah would kill me. Just stay there, I'll send a few of my men to—"

  "I've been waiting for you." I jumped out of my skin and dropped the phone in the process. It banged against the desk then hung off the edge by the cord, swinging back and forth. I stared agape at Trent, who was sauntering into the room like he belonged there.

  "Trent? What are you doing here?"

  TWENTY-FOUR

  I gaped up at my friend. Was I really so absorbed in my own desperation that I just didn't notice him? Did he follow me here? But why would he...?

  "I wanted to be sure you didn't do something stupid," he told me with an easy grin. "After our conversation earlier, I knew I had to intercede."

  "Intercede?" I shook my head and tried to gather my thoughts. "I appreciate your concern, Trent," I said as calmly as possible, despite my furiously beating heart. If Jonah found out I accidentally let Trent into his house, I was in for quite an argument next time we saw each other. I crossed to the other side of the desk with every intention of politely walking Trent to the door. "It's just a bad case of insomnia, is all."

  "Don't lie to me, Evie," Trent sighed. I gawked at him in confusion. "You're meddling in stuff you have no business sticking your nose into," he continued. "The sooner you realize that Jonah is gone for good the sooner we can move on with our life!"

  "Wait, what?" I cried in dumb surprise. Where was the easy-going, always-smiling Trent Gallegos I knew so well? Who was this stranger invading Jonah's house and spouting what sounded a lot like a threat? And what the hell did he mean our life?

  "Jonah is a murderer," Trent said firmly. I stumbled backward a few steps at his accusation. I mean, I already knew Jonah had killed before, he told me himself. But Trent didn't know that; he really thought Jonah killed my dad. "He'll be sentenced to life in prison and when The Council get their hands on him, they'll put him to death for stealing another man's claim."

  "He didn't steal anything!" I protested. "We were the ones who were—" I stopped, realizing what he said. "What...what do you know about claims?" I asked carefully. Was he talking about the CPL? A sick feeling twisted in my stomach.

  "I claimed you first," Trent insisted, taking a step closer to me. I didn't like the look on his face—determined and dark. "And when The Council finish their investigation, Jonah will be gone and you—" he took another step toward me and I automatically took a step back. "will bear my mark proving it."

  "What? Your mark? What are you talking about?" I stepped backward again and my heel found the wall. What was going on? Trent was a paranormal? What did he mean he claimed me first?

  "You don't have to play dumb, Evie," he said with a grin and started rolling up one of his sleeves.

  Trent always wore long sleeves—even in hundred-degree summer weather, always long sleeves. I never understood why he did that and he never explained, but after just a few turns of his cuff, comprehension dawned. Everything suddenly made complete sense.

  "It's okay," he assured me. "The secret is out. I know he told you about our world," Trent said, gesturing to the green tattoo half revealed on his arm. "You don't have to worry about that beast anymore. I took care of everything. Now we can be together!"

  "What?" I reeled. "What are you talking about?"

  I mentally reviewed every interaction with him for any indication, any hint of the truth that I should've figured it out before that moment. But there was nothing. Almost three years Trent was in my life and I had no clue about who—or what—he really was! I never even knew he had a tattoo. How did I not notice a giant dragon tattoo down his left arm? Long sleeves. Damn long sleeves.

  "There's no one to get in our way anymore!" Trent declared like it was the best news in the world. "I took care of everything—Jonah, your father, all of it!"

  "What—what do you know about Dad's death?" I choked on the words. Tears pricked my eyes and a sob ripped through my throat.

  "He was holding you back, Evie," Trent insisted. "Now it can be just me, you, and the twins! And soon—" he moved toward me, pinning me against the wall, one hand blocking my escape route and the other caressing my stomach. "Soon a baby of our own," he murmured. "Maybe even tonight!" His eyes sparked with an eager heat, but it was a heat that made me want to vomit.

  "Trent, I don't—" I began to protest, but he silenced me with a firm, demanding kiss. It felt like someone pressing a firebrand against my lips. I lifted my hands and pushed on his shoulders to make him stop, but he only moved a little and kept me pinned against the office wall.

  "I missed you, Evie," he said. His hand slid across my belly and grabbed my hip, holding me in place while he dipped his head and started peppering kisses down my neck and across my collarbone.

  "Trent, stop," I said. "Please—" I pushed at his shoulders again to try to make him stop. "Trent, please," I repeated. "Stop, I don't—" He paused and looked up at me. "I don't want...this," I said weakly.

  "You will," he said seriously. "In time, you'll come around." He tightened his grip on my hip, making me cry out in pain and then he used his other hand to trap my wrists and
hold them over my head. "When you're carrying my child, you'll see." He shoved his hips forward, grinding his pelvis against mine, his arousal stiff between us. Bile rose in my throat. "I'm the only one who can ever make you happy," he moaned into my ear.

  "No," I shook my head in denial. "You're wrong." Addis and Ava made me happy, even Greg made me happy. And Jonah—he was so exasperating! "I could also say that about Addis and Ava most days, and I love them, so...". My words to Jonah floated back to me. And I love them....

  Trent kept my wrists fixed against the wall above my head but moved his other hand to my waistband, effectively refocusing my thoughts to the problem in front of me. What was I going to do about Trent? I cursed at the elastic waistband of my pajama bottoms, which he easily tugged down until they were past my hips and fell into a cotton pool of fabric around my feet. Then he pressed himself against me again, rubbing me through my panties and groaning in pleasure.

  "Please, Trent," I begged. Tears streaked my cheeks but he either didn't notice or didn't care. My bet was on the latter. "Don't do this!"

  "I have no choice, Evie," he replied calmly, reaching for the button of his jeans and popping it open. "It's the only way to make you see the truth," he said. "You're meant for me. You'll realize that soon enough," he promised. I was a hundred percent sure he was wrong.

  "No, Trent," I protested, but he silenced me again with another bruising kiss, more aggressive than the last.

  My stomach curdled in dread and disgust and I half-hoped I would vomit right into his mouth. Then maybe he would stop and I could run. Unfortunately for me, the contents of my stomach stayed where they were. So, instead, I raised my knee as hard as I could between his legs. He flinched enough to release his hold on me and I took my opportunity and made a run for it.

  But, of course, stupid me, I forgot about the pajama pants around my ankles and instead of a quick escape, I tripped over myself and landed flat on the floor. Trent recovered fast enough to follow, straddling my legs to keep me from kicking and he twisted my arms behind my back, unyielding. I was probably in the worst position possible for the situation. I was stuck, at his mercy.

  "Don't fight it, Evie," he said on top of me. "It'll only hurt more if you fight it." I wiggled and tried to throw him off and free myself again but he was too heavy. "I don't want to hurt you, Evie, I want to save you!"

  "Save me?" I scoffed. If this was what he considered saving, it was the worst rescue I'd ever seen. It's no wonder Rapunzel never left her tower if this was what was waiting for her! What was a princess to do when Prince Charming was a monster and the monster was the real prince? I was definitely better off staying in the damn tower.

  Of all the possible scenarios, not once did I consider Trent Gallegos to be the kind of person to force himself on someone—let alone that he was the mysterious green dragon! Under my nose the entire time—no wonder Jonah instinctively hated him so much. Not that I was a particular fan of Trent's anymore either. After everything, how could Trent do this to me? I trusted him! I confided in him! He was one of my closest friends—how could he betray me?

  "I can save you," he whispered into my ear. "From Jonah and from everyone else. You were mine first, Evie, and I intend to take you back. I'll make you mine forever."

  "No!" I screamed, fighting against him even harder. "I don't belong to you!"

  "You can try and fight me if you want," he said, holding me down tighter. "But I don't recommend it, Evie. I'm saving you from that monster!" Trent shifted until his arousal was pressed firmly against my ass and he started to grind against me, moaning a little when I wriggled in an attempt to escape him. That made me go still real fast.

  Trent shoved up my shirt and caressed the curve of my back, sliding his hand down until he reached the thin waistband of my underwear, pausing only a second before pulling it down and out of the way. His hand cupped my ass for a moment and dug his fingers in a little, making me whimper. Oh god, he was really going to do it! He was going to rape me right there on the floor of Jonah's office!

  "Right here," Trent whispered, pinching my butt cheek. "Where I'll put my mark," he told me. He pressed his thumb down on the spot like he was trying to transfer his fingerprint. "Then," he leaned forward to whisper straight into my ear. "Then we'll seal the deal." His stiff arousal pressing against my bare ass left no doubt in my mind what he meant.

  "Jonah's not a monster," I gritted out, trying not to bawl like a baby when I said it. "You are!"

  "I tried to be nice—I tried to be patient!" he protested. "I was going to wait for you to want me, but then Jonah ruined everything with his stupid contract!" He spat the last word furiously. "He's a killer, Evie," he said. "Did he tell you that? Did he tell you how many people he's killed? Did he tell you why?" I stayed silent, quietly bawling into the carpet. "He was Kinney's hit-man," Trent growled. "Killed anyone who knew too much about our world—did he tell you that? Did he tell you how he did it?" he asked.

  I didn't want to hear it. I didn't want to know what or how or why Jonah did what he did before. He wasn't that person anymore. I firmly believed that—he wasn't a killer anymore! Not my Jonah.

  "He burned them alive," Trent said finally. I cringed, a broken sob escaping my otherwise silent tears. I tried to block him out, to think of anything else besides what Trent was saying, but my mind failed me and his words sank in anyway. "He burned them alive," he repeated, "and then stuck around to listen to them scream. He's a cold-blooded killer and he's going to do the same thing to you. He's going to take what he wants and throw the rest away. You're just a silly little toy to him, Evie," he growled. "To use until he breaks you. He left me no choice but to make my move! You're meant to be mine, Evie!" he insisted. "You were always meant to be mine!"

  On his last word something white hot pushed into my butt cheek and a blood-curdling scream clawed its way out of my throat until I thought the glass would shatter and I saw spots dancing in my vision.

  I was wrong—I was so wrong. I could burn after all.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  I wasn't given the opportunity to black out and escape the pain—to escape everything. All I could feel was the blistering heat searing my skin. I didn't know anything else but that mind-numbing pain.

  A loud growl echoed in my ears and then the pain was suddenly gone along with the weight of Trent on my legs, my wrists wrenched one direction then released. Something wet splattered on my face but I didn't care and didn't look back as I scrambled away and bolted for the door. I stumbled through the house and tumbled down a few stairs until I reached the front door and wrenched it open, flying out into the street sobbing hysterically and screaming for help.

  Greg caught me outside. I ran full-force into his chest and he wrapped his arms around me and whispered softly in my ear as he stroked my hair like I was a frightened horse. Actually, the comparison was pretty accurate.

  The moment Greg's arms wrapped protectively around me, I felt a deep disappointment that they weren't Jonah's arms. My first thought as I crawled away from Trent wasn't call the police or scream for help. My first thought was find Jonah.

  "You're okay," Greg cooed. "It's okay, Evie, you're okay," he repeated over and over again. Eventually my convulsing, body-shaking sobs faded to a quieter whimper and I became more aware of what was happening around me.

  Outside Jonah's house was a verifiable circus. Every emergency vehicle in Sinclair Falls seemed to appear out of nowhere and were parked around the house, both local and CPL. Dozens of personnel in various uniforms mixed with men in black suits going in and out of the house, the front door left wide open after my panicked flee. I wasn't sure how they all got there so fast but I had a hunch that Greg had something to do with it.

  A blanket was tucked around my shoulders but Greg didn't let go of me, for which I was thankful. I needed the strong reassurance right then. Even surrounded by every police officer in the city, I felt safer with Greg. Not safest, I thought to myself sadly, but the next best thing.

  After a f
ew minutes of watching people filter in and out of the house I saw a large dog—wait...correction, wolf!—come limping down the steps and into the street, headed straight for us. I froze in fear as I watched it approach, but Greg didn't seem to be a bit worried. The wolf plopped down beside my feet, panting and whining. It's fur was matted with blood and I recalled the loud growl and wet splatter preceding my escape. Oh my god, was I covered in Trent's blood? I bent, turning away from Greg and finally spilled the contents of my stomach onto the pavement.

  "She'll be okay now, Kinney," Greg addressed the wolf as one hand rubbed my back. "Thanks to you."

  "Ki-Kinney?" I gaped at the animal. The wolf gave me a tired, lopsided grin. Behind him, two paramedics wheeled a gurney out of the house, a white sheet, slightly stained with blood, covering a body. There was only one other person in that house.... I looked down at the wolf—at Kinney. "Did you--?" He snorted and moved his head like he was saying, hell yes I did. "Thank you," I said, but it wasn't nearly enough to convey the full depths of my gratitude. He saved me. Jonah was going to hate being in his debt.