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Pyromancist SECOND EDITION: Art of Fire (7 Forbidden Arts Book 1)

Page 7

by Charmaine Pauls


  Slowly, she crawled toward the hallway. She had to make it through the door and lock it. It wouldn’t take more than a bullet to shoot open the lock, but it would win her time to get away.

  Only a short distance to go. When she was close enough to dive through the doorframe, she jumped to her feet. She’d barely taken a step when a hand closed around her ankle. The grip broke her run. She went down with a cry, but a pair of arms locked around her, once more absorbing some of the shock. The fall still hurt enough to steal her voice. She struggled, but her efforts had no effect on Joss, who only tightened his arms around her, squeezing the air out of her lungs.

  “Fuck, Cle,” he said through gritted teeth. “Do you want to die?”

  He dragged her to the wall and pushed her against it with his body covering hers. Fisting his hand in her hair with a grip that was firm without hurting, he tilted her face to his. The intensity in his eyes was startling. His lips brushed over the lobe of her ear, his breath hot on her skin as he whispered, “Don’t ever make the mistake of running from me. You don’t want to make me come after you.”

  A shiver ran over her body at the menacing tone of the soft-spoken words. Before she could think of a reply, the noise of a helicopter sounded.

  “Permission to fire,” Joss said. A short pause followed. “Fuck.” He loosened his grip on her hair, dragging his fingers over her skull in a soothing action. “Did you get a visual?” He listened to the reply. “We’re coming out. Circle around until we’re mobile and see if you can pick up the shooter.”

  He locked his fingers around her bicep and pulled her to her feet. “Can you walk?”

  Too shocked for defiance or resistance, she nodded.

  Joss escorted her outside with Lann and Maya flanking them.

  “Scan for explosives,” Joss said.

  Maya pulled something that looked like a metal detector from a duffle bag on her shoulder and ran ahead. She flicked a button and did a quick search of the SUV before nodding at Joss. He pushed Clelia into the back and took the seat next to her. Lann sat opposite them and Maya took the wheel. They each knew exactly which position to take. They appeared to function like a well-oiled machine.

  Clelia’s heart thumped in her chest. Every muscle and bone in her body ached.

  Joss addressed the Russian. “Assessment?”

  “Like you said, sharpshooter.” Lann’s voice was calm, but tension rolled off him. “We better warn Cain.”

  “We didn’t have any fucking intelligence of an attack,” Maya said as she started the engine and took a dirt track that led to the village.

  “Bono,” Joss said, “are we clear?”

  “Either we were the targets,” Lann said, “or he was after someone else.” He looked pointedly at Clelia.

  Clelia hugged herself, shaking with cold.

  Joss put an arm around her shoulders. “You’ll be fine. It’s the shock.”

  She tried to scoot away, but he tightened his hold.

  “Where are we going?” Maya asked, glancing at them in the rearview mirror.

  “D11.” Joss dragged a hand over his face. “Bono, take her down in ten. If we don’t have a tail on our killer by then, he’s gotten away. There are too many holidaymakers to use infrared. We’ll run the satellite recording and see if we can nail anyone with a weapon. Maya, brief Cain on our status. He’s coming in by helijet. He needs to know we’re exposed before he crosses French airspace. Lann, set up a safe house before Cain arrives. Maya, we’ll need to shift our ground base to the safe house as soon as Lann has secured a new location.”

  “I’m on it,” Lann said.

  “The locals are going to go ape shit,” Maya said. “What are we going to tell the press? If this comes out, our operation is compromised. Can we cover it up?”

  “I’ll handle the media,” Joss said. “Can you keep your asses clear until we have a new safe house?”

  Maya snorted. “I should kick your ass just for asking that. What about her?”

  “I’m taking her someplace secure until it’s safe to move.”

  Maya stepped on the brake where the road split to Carnac. Clelia looked out of the darkened windows of the vehicle to get a sense of where they were heading. She needed to come up with a plan of escape, but her brain refused to function. She was still shaking in the aftermath of the attack.

  “You know what to do, Joss,” Maya said.

  From the way they all stared at her, Clelia got the uneasy impression that Maya was talking about her.

  “I’m not pulling a bag over her head,” Joss said.

  “It may be your territory, but your behavior with the China doll is questionable, not to mention she’s going to get us killed,” Maya said.

  “Japanese,” Joss said with emphasis. “And another word from you and you’re back in the office doing admin. Permanently. Am I clear?”

  Maya pursed her lips. “Like crystal.”

  “Take this,” Lann said, holding a hypodermic needle in the palm of his hand.

  Clelia battled to follow the conversation. Her mind was slow to decipher words and sentences, but when Joss took the needle and pinned her into the corner with his weight, she understood. Whatever was in the needle was meant for her. Fear made her break out in cold sweat.

  “No,” she said through dry lips. “Don’t do this. Please.”

  “I’m sorry,” Joss said, regret reflecting in his cold eyes as he pushed the needle into her arm.

  Dizziness came fast, surprisingly so. Her vision blurred. She wanted to fight, but her mind lost whatever little control it still had over her body. The last thing she remembered, was Joss’s thumb brushing over her palm.

  Chapter 7

  Clelia slowly came to her senses. Her body ached and her mouth was so dry she battled to swallow. She felt nauseous and disorientated. Had she been sleepwalking again?

  She tried to move, but couldn’t. Like her legs and arms, her eyelids were stuck. Oh, God. Was she paralyzed? Or worse, buried alive? Sickness pushed up in her throat. She couldn’t breathe. She was suffocating.

  “Help.”

  The word had come out as nothing but a croak. Had they left her for dead?

  A breath fanned over her face. “Open your eyes, Cle.”

  The command was both reassuring and threatening. She wanted to obey it and was afraid to at the same time.

  Warm hands rubbed over her arms, inviting goosebumps. “You’re safe.”

  She pulled back into herself, instinctively escaping, but the hands wouldn’t let her go.

  “Come on, witch. Open your eyes.”

  The order was seductive, coaxing her into compliance. An inexplicable impulse made her want to please that voice. The heavy layer of soil that had seemed to trap her lifted a little, and she managed to peel her eyelids open. Oh, thank God. She wasn’t in a coffin or underground. She was lying under soft blankets on a bed with her arms on top of the covers. The strong hands were still rubbing them, aiding her circulation and providing heat.

  Air filled her lungs. She dragged it in greedily. She almost cried with relief when her eyes started to focus. It was dark, but not so much she couldn’t make out Joss’s face. He crouched beside her, his big body hovering over hers. Splinters of memories from the ancient site flashed through her mind, their bodies connected in a craze of lust, and then she remembered the shootout and the needle he’d stuck into her arm.

  She shot upright, flinching as a headache threatened to split her skull. “Where am I?”

  “Easy.” Joss helped her to lean her back against the headboard. “Someplace safe.” He took a glass from the nightstand and folded her hand around it.

  She brought it to her nose and sniffed.

  “It’s only water,” he said.

  She shouldn’t trust him. Look where it had gotten her. She should’ve known better. But she was so damn thirsty. Even if the water was drugged, she couldn’t resist. She drank until the glass was empty, making embarrassing gulping sounds. He refilled the glas
s from a decanter and held it out with two pills on his palm.

  “What’s that?” she asked.

  “Aspirin. You should have a headache from the drug. It’s the dehydration.”

  Desperate to still the pounding in her head, she took the pills and swallowed them with the water.

  “Better?” he asked, wrestling with a smile.

  She gave him a cutting look. “What do you think?”

  The smile won. The bastard found her passive-aggressive rebellion amusing.

  “The tranquilizer was too strong,” he said. “As it wasn’t planned, I couldn’t adjust the dose for your body weight. I didn’t inject all of it, but it still knocked you out good. You’ll feel better in a while.”

  She’d feel better? Was he for real? “You kidnapped me.” How could he crouch there so casually, making it sound like it was the most normal thing in the world to drug and abduct her?

  He took back the glass and left it on the nightstand. “You could put it like that.”

  “There’s no other damn way of putting it.” Last night, she wanted to be with him. Now she wanted to run as far away from him as she could. “What the hell do you want?”

  His lips stretched into an even wider curve, but, unlike earlier, the gesture was void of amusement. “You know what I want.”

  “To ask me questions.”

  He rewarded her with a look of approval. “Where’s Erwan?”

  “Even if I knew where he was, I wouldn’t tell.” She glared at him. “Especially not the likes of you.”

  Unaffected by the insult, he studied her for a bit. “I didn’t expect you to. I won’t ask you to betray him.”

  His meaning came to her in a flash. The asshole. He was using her as bait. “You think he’ll come to you if you keep me.”

  That unwavering smile seemed rather smug now. “Exactly.”

  “You don’t need him. Ask me what you want to know.”

  He scoffed. “Do you think I trust you to tell me the truth?”

  She wanted to slap the smugness off his face. She couldn’t believe how smitten she’d been with him last night. Embarrassingly, for all her life. Crossing her arms, she held his taunting gaze. “Go to hell then.”

  His eyes tightened. “Careful, little witch. You don’t want to go that route with me.”

  “Or what?” She gave him a flat smile. “You’ll inject me with drugs and kidnap me? Oh, wait. You’ve already done that. I guess you’re out of options, Joss.”

  He fixed her with a look. “There are other things I could do to you.”

  What a fool she’d been, giving him her heart and her first of everything. “You’ve already done your worst,” she said under her breath.

  His words were measured, delivered in that soft, even tone that always made the world go quiet. “Not by a long shot.”

  He really had no idea. He had no recollection of last night. That was probably for the best. She’d been an idiot. Joss wasn’t who she’d thought he was. He wasn’t the man she’d dreamt about. She’d rather pretend the sex never happened.

  “You’re not going anywhere until Erwan shows up and answers my questions,” he said, “so you may as well just tell me where he is.”

  “What do you have to do with the investigation of the fires?”

  “Do you want the truth, or a sugarcoated version that won’t strip you of your belief in the safety of your world? Most people go for the second option, and those who unwisely choose the first, always regret it.”

  Ignorance wasn’t a luxury she could afford. “I want the truth.”

  He straightened. “As you wish.”

  “Wait.” She stared up at him. “Will you have to kill me if I know the truth?”

  “Kill you? No, Clelia. I won’t kill you.” He paused. “Not for knowing the truth.”

  Her heart tripped over its own beat. In other words, he would kill her if he deemed it necessary.

  “No one will believe you anyway,” he continued. “According to records, our organization doesn’t exist. From our side, there’s nothing to worry about, at least not from you.”

  That statement hurt just a little, to know she was so unimportant that whatever she said wouldn’t be taken seriously. “Well, then there’s no reason to hold back.”

  His smirk told her he didn’t buy her bravado. “I’m heading a special task force. We’ve been commissioned to investigate the arson.”

  So, that was why Joss came back. “Special task force?”

  “Let’s just say we’re a last resort when the police can’t solve a crime with the normal means at their disposal. We get called in when the physical laws of nature don’t explain or support the facts.”

  The fires weren’t simple arson. Her fears may not have been unfounded after all. She tried hard to keep her face even. “Like in unnatural crimes, you mean?”

  “The phrase we use is paranormal.”

  If his task force didn’t exist on record, they didn’t operate under any law. What would he do if he found the guilty party? Eliminate that person?

  “What happens when you catch your criminals?” she asked carefully.

  “Our job is to solve the crime, not to make judgment. That’s reserved for people with better morals than me.”

  A trickle of sweat ran down her back. “You know the rumors about my mother. You know as much as I do.”

  “I have a feeling there’s more to that story. I don’t think Erwan told everything.”

  “If you were called in to solve this crime, you must believe there’s paranormal activity involved.” She cleared her voice. “Do you think it’s a firestarter?”

  He only looked at her, that annoying smile intact.

  “It’s me you’re after,” she said. “Leave Erwan out of this.” Her grandfather didn’t deserve to be baited and hunted.

  He clicked his tongue. “I knew you’d take the self-sacrificing approach, but it wasn’t you.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I’ve tasted your blood.”

  “What?” She shook her head in confusion, a shiver running over her body when she recalled the day when he’d licked her blood from his thumb.

  “You’re cold. We better get you warm and dry. How are your eyes? Are they still sensitive or can I switch on the light?”

  She frowned at his consideration. It was confusing. “They’re fine.”

  In the yellow light that washed over him when he flicked on the bedside lamp, the rings marring his eyes looked darker. His eyes weren’t bloodshot, but the fine red veins told their own story. Her heart squeezed at the memory of the night before and what they’d done. She’d used him while he was intoxicated.

  From what she’d read, guys weren’t even supposed to get it up when they were drunk. That said a lot about Joss’s virility, which wasn’t the direction her mind should be taking. She should be, and was, ashamed of herself, doubly so if Joss had a girlfriend. Yet the way Joss behaved toward Maya didn’t strike her as a boyfriend in a loving relationship. He definitely acted the boss. Unless Maya and Joss were able to separate work and pleasure exceptionally well.

  She dragged her tongue over the cut on her lip. “I assume Maya and Lann are your other team members.”

  “Forget their names.”

  “I was just wondering.” She looked at her hands.

  “Wondering what?”

  “About Maya.”

  “What about her?”

  “People say…” She looked up to catch him studying her.

  “What do people say?”

  She rolled her shoulders. “That you’re together.”

  “Maya?” He chuckled. “Would you care?”

  Guilt heated her cheeks. “Of course not. I’m only trying to figure out how the puzzle fits together.”

  “Of course not,” he repeated in a wry tone.

  “Is she your lover?”

  He frowned. “I see this village hasn’t changed.”

  “Some things don’t change.” Like h
er stupid feelings.

  Tracing one of the cuts on her foot with a finger, he asked, “Where did these come from?”

  She pulled away her leg.

  “Why are you cut up?” he asked, the shadows marring his expression turning darker.

  She swallowed. “I didn’t wear the right shoes when I walked through a field.”

  “You should take better care of yourself. Are you still roaming the woods alone?”

  When she didn’t answer, he uttered a soft curse. His gaze slipped to the mark on her neck, the one he had left. There was no question about what that bruise was. Only a hickey left pinpricks of blue and purple on the skin.

  “Do you have a boyfriend?” A deep line formed between his eyebrows. “Is he one of the locals?”

  “That doesn’t concern you,” she said with her heart thudding in her chest.

  His look was diabolical. “Doesn’t it now?”

  “It has nothing to do with your investigation.”

  “Maybe not.” He went down on his haunches again, putting them on eye level. “But you and I, Cle, we go way back.” His lips twisted in a wicked way. “Don’t we?”

  She stared at him, blood rising to her neck in anger and indignation. How dared he bring that up? How dared he enjoy her embarrassment?

  After a beat, he stood, all traces of mocking vanishing from his face. “You need to get out of those damp clothes. A warm bath will do you good.”

  He was proposing she—his prisoner—soaked in a bath?

  Without waiting for her agreement, he entered an adjoining room. A moment later, the pipes creaked and running water sounded. She considered refusing a bath out of principle, but despite the blankets she was cold. Throwing back the covers, she swung her legs over the bed, but a dizzy spell made her grip the mattress.

  “The weakness is temporary,” Joss said from the door.

  She looked up to see him standing in the frame.

  “I’m sorry I drugged you,” he continued, “but it was for your own protection.”

 

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