Fire Maidens: London

by Lowe, Anna

  Telling her his job was protecting her wouldn’t go over well, and he wasn’t going to hint at everything else the Council had demanded.

  “I work flexible hours,” he said, leaving it at that.

  Gemma didn’t look so sure, but she didn’t ask either. She just looked at him and finally waved. “Well, good night.”

  “Good night.” He stuck his hands into his pockets to stave off the urge to hug her.

  But Gemma didn’t move, and neither did he. A gnat wafted by, and a dog barked in the distance. A car drove over the nearby bridge. But all that faded into the background as they gazed into each other’s eyes.

  Gemma, he wanted to whisper.

  Liam, her eyes said.

  He leaned closer, and she did too. Her mouth moved a little, as did his, and her lips looked so near. Near enough to kiss.

  So, kiss her, his lion whispered.

  Kiss her, a low, rumbling voice echoed.

  Her eyes fluttered a little, and she tilted her head, as if obeying the same command. Because that was the voice of destiny, telling them what to do.

  Kiss her, his thumping heart said.

  He inched closer, as did Gemma. She’d undone her hair clip somewhere along the way, and her silky locks tumbled over one shoulder, begging him to run his fingers through them. Her lavender scent wafted through the air, mesmerizing him. Make that, intoxicating — more than any liquor or drug. His inner lion jumped with glee, and his soul sang just from having her near.

  Then a cyclist came barreling down the towpath, making them both jolt.

  “Look out,” the cyclist called over his shoulder as if they were the hazard.

  Liam was tempted to shift into lion form, sprint after the fool, and teach him who was supposed to watch out for whom. Instead, he turned to Gemma.

  “Good night,” she said, glum as he was, because that magical moment had passed.

  “Good night,” he whispered, stepping back.

  He stayed long enough to watch her unlock the door, slide back the hatch, and step inside. Then, with a last little wave, she ducked out of sight and slid the hatch shut. A light went on inside, and Liam fought the urge to wave again. Instead, he walked along the towpath and back up the stairs to the street.

  There, he paused, looked back, and whispered, “Good night, my mate.”

  Chapter Six

  Liam didn’t go far, though, because with night came danger in its myriad forms. The Lombardis were out there somewhere, and so were countless other foes. Ordinary criminals, too, making Liam consider things he’d never thought about before. How safe was a single woman in London, really? Did Gemma walk that deserted towpath alone every morning and every night? And, hell. How solid was the door of that barge?

  Cyclists came and went. Shadows lengthened. Lights came on in a few boats. Liam tiptoed down to the towpath, ducking when a bat flew overhead. Then he set off to assess the surroundings carefully. It was a nice neighborhood, but the canal created a strip of open airspace a dragon could swoop through, and there weren’t many escape routes. The narrow banks of greenery along the canal abutted a solid line of walls. On the other hand, there were plenty of bushes for a lion to conceal himself in.

  A house cat flitted by, and Liam looked around. Tempting. Very tempting. Usually, he ran in Hyde Park, but he would love to explore a new part of town. The darker it grew, the quieter the area became. Surely no one would notice if he was careful.

  His lion snorted, reminding him of all the covert missions he’d run. Of course, no one will notice.

  So he stepped into the bushes, stripped out of his clothes, and bundled them inside his jacket. Then he tilted his head back, looking at the sky. The moon was rising, and a few stars shone through the city’s glow. Funny how he’d never wanted to fly before. But tonight…

  He shook his head. Flying was for dragons, and he was a lion, right?

  He shook even harder, letting his mane grow out. The stubble on his chin burned in a good way, as did his back as tiny hairs extended and thickened, warming him against the chilly night. He dropped to all fours, hands turning to paws before they hit the ground. He flexed his claws in the dirt, savoring that connection with the earth. Then he worked his jaw from side to side, letting whiskers extend from his cheeks. Within a minute, his tail was lashing the air in anticipation, and the urge to roar was stronger than ever. His mate was near, and he would protect her forever. Surely that was a message worthy of bellowing through the night?

  He had to be content with prowling instead. Up along the embankment, then back to the bridge, strutting every time he passed Gemma’s boat. How good would it feel to stand before her in lion form and show off how powerful he was? He would roar his love into the night, and—

  He sneezed, shaking the urge. He was there to protect Gemma, not to preen, right?

  For a while, he curled up nearby, silently keeping watch. Then he set off on another loop, venturing farther than before. Bright lights clustered ahead, and he slowed. Gemma’s immediate neighborhood was peaceful, but from somewhere around the bend came voices…music…cars…

  Camden Town Locks, he realized. A place he’d dragged Sergio to one night just for fun. A little drinking, a little dancing, a little carousing. Everything a young lion might desire.

  But suddenly, none of that interested him any more. Only Gemma and the warm yellow light illuminating Valhalla’s curtained portholes. Heck, he could even picture spending quiet evenings in rather than wild nights out.

  He turned around and prowled back, mulling it all over. Could a man really fall in love so quickly? So eagerly? His parents had mated young — much younger than most lions. Did that carry over to him?

  When you know, you know. Sergio’s words echoed through his head.

  Liam considered. Maybe he’d inherited a few dragon traits from his father after all.

  Then he halted in his tracks and growled under his breath. Someone — or something — was out there.

  Then an answering growl came, and the bushes near the bridge swayed.

  Archibald, Liam muttered, recognizing the young lion’s scent. Daniel and Thomas were there as well, along with a big, older lion.

  Rutland, Liam sniffed in disdain.

  For years, the Guardians had tolerated the mercenary who came and went, occasionally hiring him for dirty jobs they didn’t want to sully their own reputations with. Dozens of scars demonstrated his status as the veteran of a hundred back-street campaigns. From the look of things, Archie and the others had hired Rutland as backup.

  Liam snorted. Years earlier, the hair along his back would have stood at that challenge. But a decade in the Legion had taught him plenty, so he puffed out his mane and stepped into the open, more annoyed than alarmed.

  What are you doing here? he snarled, using the mental link most shifters shared.

  How satisfying it was to see Archie skitter away. With his buddies there, however, the arrogant lion quickly recovered his swagger.

  I am visiting my Fire Maiden. Making sure she’s safe.

  She’s safe. I guarantee it. Liam circled the others.

  It was laughable, how Archie, Daniel, and Thomas bumped and tangled in response.

  Amateurs, Liam’s lion sniffed. All but Rutland, who stood his ground a few steps away.

  Archie and Thomas collided a second time and rumbled at each other. Which should have made Liam laugh, but instead, his anger grew. A Fire Maiden deserved better than second-rate guards.

  The thought must have slipped out, because Archie chuckled in an all-too-familiar mocking tone. So what are you doing here, half blood?

  Liam clacked his teeth an inch from Archie’s face, making the lion leap back. A reaction that would have been far more satisfying if the reality of his situation weren’t so grim. How was he ever going to win over Gemma on his own terms?

  Daniel and Thomas looked at each other uncertainly, then inched forward, flanking their friend.

  Run along, boys, Liam growled. Before you r
eally tick me off.

  Archie sneered. You really think she’ll be interested in you, half blood?

  That was just like the old days, when Archie had been a merciless tease. Never within earshot of adults who would shush him out of consideration for Liam’s powerful relatives. But otherwise, Archie and the others had been relentless. And back then, Liam had felt powerless to react.

  Well, no more. Unlike Archie, Liam had left the luxuries of London and hardened up. The Legion didn’t put any man above another — not unless he earned it through brutally hard work. In hindsight, the shifter politics that had seemed so insurmountable in his youth were laughable now. London was full of old-timers who battled with words and young guns who hid behind the shield of their noble family names. All of them were so tangled in tradition, they had lost track of the real world.

  Liam leaned forward, feeling taller and more powerful than ever. He was a warrior. Archie and the others were nothing. Rutland was a lowly mercenary without any real cause.

  Liam growled, letting the sound echo through his chest. The Fire Maiden will choose the man she wants, whomever that may be. But a man he will be, not a boy like any of you.

  Daniel backed up, and Thomas gulped at the threat in Liam’s voice. Archie bared his teeth in a gesture that held more fear than defiance. Meanwhile, Rutland’s eyes shone, eager for a challenge.

  Why would she choose you, half blood? Archie taunted. Are you such a master of seduction?

  The others laughed, but Liam fumed — literally. His lungs felt strangely hot. His tongue burned, and his throat filled with an ashy taste. But those sensations were nothing compared to the fury in his heart. He would never, ever stoop to the means the Guardians had suggested. If Gemma chose him, it would be out of love, not from any trick.

  He prowled forward, lashing his tail.

  Run along, boys. Leave real work to real men.

  Or you’ll what? Archie challenged.

  Liam dug his claws into the ground, wishing he could do that to Archie’s flesh. If he had left the Legion after the first five years, he might have done just that. But time and experience had taught him to recognize when fighting caused more trouble than it was worth. If he beat up Archie now, the Council of Elders would have his hide, and where would that leave Gemma?

  Liam was no such fool. But Archie was a conniving bastard who might be willing to gamble on such a plan.

  I have had enough of you, Liam growled in a voice so deep and gravelly, it surprised him. I will not waste any more time. Go.

  Archie, Thomas, and Daniel cowered, but they didn’t move. Rutland watched, ready to follow their cue. Liam roared into their minds, ready to end the juvenile encounter.

  Go, I said! Go.

  Daniel and Thomas scurried behind Rutland. Archie shook but stuck out his chin.

  Make me.

  Liam knew he shouldn’t take the bait. But, hell. He was a soldier, not a diplomat. And he had had enough of Archie’s bullshit.

  So he crouched, ready to jump. Archie crouched too, making every mistake in the book, such as neglecting to edge away from the canal to gain maneuvering space or angling himself to take advantage of the glare of streetlights. The kind of errors a lion could get away with if all he ever did was play-fight in his noble family’s domain.

  Rutland, meanwhile, sidestepped into a more advantageous position on the sloping high ground, proving he was no fool.

  Make me, Archie taunted a second time.

  Liam twitched his tail in one final warning. A moment later, he sailed through the air, calculating how much claw to let out to send Archie packing without actually killing him. Archie skittered sideways, barely dodging the blow. Liam made a last-second adjustment, batting Archie across the muzzle without actually drawing blood. No sense in making the situation worse. Then he sprang back, giving Archie one last chance.

  Time to pack up your little gang and go home, boy.

  Archie’s eyes shone with fury, and he swiped at the air. Get him, dammit!

  The words were aimed at Rutland, who flicked an ear in a bored expression that said, I’m only obeying because you paid me, asshole. Then a rumble sounded in his chest, and he bared his teeth at Liam. Ready?

  Oh, Liam was ready, all right.

  They circled one way then the other, sizing each other up. Then, just when Liam was sure the mercenary would chuckle and retreat, calling off whatever deal he’d struck with Archie, Rutland whipped around and lunged, claws bared.

  Liam ducked, sidestepped, and sprang at Rutland. He drew first blood, but Rutland landed a glancing blow a moment later, tearing into Liam’s shoulder.

  The next few minutes blurred in the most brutal, yet strangely silent cat fight Liam had ever been part of. Even when claws tore through flesh, neither he nor Rutland let more than a grunt slip. And, hell — Rutland was good. Very good. A master of every trick in the book, with superior body weight, to boot. But Liam was fighting for a greater cause, and he countered every lethal move. He even found himself relishing the action. His first few months as a civilian had been full of alerts but no real action, and his lion had been itching to fight.

  Rutland grinned as if he enjoyed the action too, though he didn’t let up his relentless attacks.

  Get him, Archie cheered, slashing from one side.

  Daniel and Thomas inched closer, too, and Liam sneered, seeing through their cowardice. Obviously, they were content to hang back and try to score whatever sneaky side blow they could. Then they would claim to have beat Liam on their own. He could hear them sniggering to each other now.

  Well, he wouldn’t give them the pleasure.

  So he battled harder, digging his claws deeper with every blow. Thomas yelped and rolled away. Daniel stuck his tail between his legs and backed up. Rutland’s grin vanished, replaced by a look of grim concentration. And Archie—

  Liam slashed at Rutland, then slammed the bigger lion aside. That left Archie unguarded, and Liam rushed forward.

  Archie’s eyes grew wide. And, hell. If Liam hadn’t been possessed by something greater than himself, he might have been surprised too. But that force — that raw strength like nothing he’d ever experienced before — felt right. It was his to command — some power emerging from a locked chamber deep in his soul.

  Something sparked in the air, and flickers of orange and red reflected in Archie’s terror-filled eyes.

  You will never have her. Never. Do I make myself clear? Liam bellowed.

  He had only aimed the words at Archie’s mind, but wow. It was easy to imagine them echoing through the night the way a dragon’s challenge might.

  Yes, a deep, scratchy voice inside him whispered. Yes. Let me out.

  Liam pushed the unfamiliar sensation aside and roared one more time. Go!

  Archie stumbled backward. With a yelp and a gratifying splash, he plunged into the murky water of the canal.

  Much as Liam would have loved to watch Archie sputter and curse, he was too possessed by that inner force to let up. He spun to face Rutland, no longer bothering to mask the deadly glow in his eyes. He was willing to fight to the death. Was Rutland?

  The mercenary glared for a moment, going perfectly still other than the calculating sweep of his tail. Then he glanced behind Liam and sniffed.

  Liam snarled. Did the bastard think he could claim Gemma?

  Then, with one final jut of his chin, Rutland inched back as if to declare, Enough.

  Enough, Liam agreed, though he didn’t budge. Despite the fatigue of fighting, his feet felt light, as if he might tiptoe upward and soar into the air. Like a dragon. Like his father. Like—

  He puffed sharply, pushing those thoughts away. They were as crazy as Gemma believed him to be, and he wasn’t going there.

  Rutland turned to the others with a disdainful gaze. With one disparaging snort, he strutted quietly up the stairs. Archie, meanwhile, splashed around like a half-drowned rat. Finally, he dragged himself out of the filthy water with Daniel’s help. Then he stood, sha
king with rage.

  Liam snorted. The effect would have been a lot more impressive if Archie’s mane hadn’t been plastered all over his face.

  I was generous with these before, Liam growled, displaying his claws. But I’m not feeling so generous now. Get moving, you little ass.

  Archie staggered, dripping, to the stairs that led away from the canal and up to the street, squeaking, You have no right.

  Liam huffed and followed, snapping at Archie’s heels. Oh, I have the right. And the might.

  How satisfying it would have been to chase Archie through the streets.

  Oh, let’s, his lion begged.

  But he’d risked too much already, making such a racket. He’d made his point, right?

  He stood panting at the top of the stairs, yearning to make the point to every other lion in London as well.

  Finally, he turned and descended the stairs. Every step closer to his mate calmed his mind, and every breath—

  He paused. Every breath burned. Less with each passing minute, but still. What was wrong with him?

  Nothing wrong, that deep, scratchy voice chuckled. Only what’s right. What’s within you.

  Liam considered for a moment, then stopped attempting to puzzle that out. He’d had enough drama for one night. It was time to find a soft patch of earth where he could curl up and keep watch over his mate for the rest of the night.

  Chapter Seven

  Gemma yawned, padded down the narrow hallway of her floating home, and peered out one of the portholes. It was one of those beautifully quiet mornings, with mist blanketing the canal and a light drizzle thickening the air. As usual, her little neighborhood felt a hundred miles away from the bustle of the city.

  She’d slept fairly well, though there’d been some kind of ruckus outside at one point. A cat fight? A couple of drunks? Whatever it had been, she had done what her neighbors did — hunker down and avoid trouble. Now that daylight was breaking, she was prepared to deal with whatever might be out there. The houseboat was low, and the windows came to about ankle height of anyone on the towpath beside the canal. But there was no one outside, just the bushes, a flitting sparrow, and—