Incendiary (The Premonition Series (Volume 4))

Home > Romance > Incendiary (The Premonition Series (Volume 4)) > Page 12
Incendiary (The Premonition Series (Volume 4)) Page 12

by Amy A. Bartol


  “Thanks, Russell,” Reed says, “I’ll be right back.” In a fraction of a second, Reed is gone from beneath the window.

  Gunshots ring out from the house across the street, while one of the cold freaks screams, “Gdzie poszedł?”

  “What did he say, Russ?” Evie asks nervously.

  “He just screamed ‘Where did he go?’” I grin, knowin’ that Reed is scarin’ the crap out of them before he kills them. He’s mean like that when it comes to protectin’ Red. Glancin’ next to me, Anya’s lookin’ at me like she’s seen a ghost…well, maybe not like that ‘cuz she’s probably seen plenty of ghosts, but she’s as pale as one anyway.

  Walkin’ in from the landin’ that leads downstairs, Reed says, “I’m fairly certain that’s all of them. They must have tracked Eion, or the other one—”

  “Keefe,” Evie and me say in unison.

  Lookin’ between Evie and me, Reed frowns, “Right—making our position volatile.”

  I rise cautiously from the floor and shake the broken glass from my hair. Evie, lookin’ shaky, goes immediately to Reed’s side. Scoopin’ Red up off her feet, Reed says, “I have to clean up here—get rid of the corpses. While I do that, I want you to shower and change. We leave in twenty minutes.” Turnin’ to me, Reed asks, “Can you be ready by then?”

  “Yeah. I need to borrow some clothes,” I reply.

  “There are bedrooms equipped with bathrooms on this floor. Check the closets. There may be something you can squeeze into,” Reed says, and he leaves the room with Evie in his arms.

  As I glance back to Anya, I see she hasn’t moved to get up. She is curled in a ball with her eyes squeezed shut and her hands tremblin’. Crouchin’ down, I touch her shoulder, sayin’, “Anya…”

  Springin’ from the floor, Anya wraps her arms around my neck. Her whole body trembles as her shallow breathin’ tickles my neck. “Hey…that was just a little gun fight, Anya. If you're gonna hang with us, it’s gonna get a lot worse than that. Maybe there’s somewhere else you can go? Do you have friends here?” I ask, gently rubbin’ her back to try to calm her down. She doesn’t answer me, so I sigh, “You don’t understand a word I’m sayin’, do you? No? Okay, let’s get you cleaned up and we’ll figure it out later.”

  CHAPTER 9

  Miss Me Dearly

  Takin’ Anya in my arms, mainly ‘cuz I can’t get her to let go of my neck, I scout the second floor of Reed’s townhouse. A bedroom down the hall presents itself as a good enough place to get cleaned up, so I go directly to the attached bathroom. Its small, like most everythin’ in Poland…that I can remember ‘cuz technically, I’ve never been here when I was this tall…or male.

  Turnin’ on the small shower, I look down at Anya and feel a blush creepin’ up my neck. I clear my throat and say, “Uh…Anya? We’re fixin’ to leave as fast as we can so we need to shower and change into clothes that are less…well, that blend in more with the locals.”

  She lifts her head from my shoulder and waves of her beautiful dark hair tumble off my arm. I can tell she’s still freaked ‘bout what just happened with the Gancanagh. “Ruse-el leh-chi lit…” she breathes.

  “Huh?” I ask, testin’ the water to see if it’s too hot.

  “Leh-chi lit,” she says again, touchin’ the feathers of my wings gently.

  My eyes widen. “That sounds…are you speakin’ Navajo?” I ask in surprise. “Did you just call me ‘red smoke?’” I ask her, wonderin’ if she’s referrin’ to my clone.

  “Ruse-el a-tkel-el-ini,” she says, pointin’ at my chest.

  “Troublemaker, huh?” I ask, smilin’. “Damn…what do I remember ‘bout Navajo…to-altseh-hogan—this is a temporary place—camp. We have to move to avoid another khac-da...another ambush.” Seein’ her eyes go round in fear, I frown before saying in a soft voice, “Russell yah-a-da-hal-yon-ih Anya…I’ll take care of you,” while strokin’ her hair.

  “Anya yah-a-da-hal-yon-ih Russ-el,” she breathes, tellin’ me that she’ll take care of me, before touchin’ her lips to mine.

  “Anya…” I murmur, turnin’ my face and tryin’ to avoid her kisses.

  “O-zhi, Russ-el,” Anya says against my cheek, tellin’ me she missed me.

  With my brows pullin’ together, I reply, “I don’t remember you.”

  “Russ-el, na-ne-klah,” she says softly, callin’ me “difficult” while brushin’ her incredible lips over mine. Feelin’ somethin’ in me explode, like her lips set me on fire, I press her back into the glass shower door, kissin’ her like somethin’ in me is achin’—has been achin’ for a very long time.

  Hearin’ her groan in pleasure, I reach over, tearin’ her shirt off of her and pressin’ my lips to her neck. Her skin is warm and smells like flowers I’ve only sensed in dreams. Reality hits me then and makes me pull back and look at the beautiful creature in my arms. Anya’s perfect. Her face is exquisite—her long, black lashes are hooded over green eyes that I’ve only seen cats possess. Her archin’ eyebrows are black, like her hair…and her body, good Lord; her body is made for the sweetest sin.

  “Whoa,” I murmur, pressin’ my forehead to Anya’s, tryin’ to think. “We gotta stop now,” I say pantin’. “Ji-din-nes-chanh,” I mutter, meanin’ “retreat.”

  Anya, pullin’ on my neck breathes, “Na-dzah,” meanin’ “return.” “Russ-el to-ho-ne.” She just said I’m sufferin’.

  I groan. “Yeah, I’m sufferin’ all right,” I agree with her last statement. My lips twist in a grim smile. She has me fightin’ for air, feelin’ her soft skin pressin’ against me. Puttin’ her on her feet, I turn her, scootin’ her toward the shower.

  “Nil-ta,” she says, callin’ me “stubborn.” Not turnin’ around, she removes the rest of her clothes. I feel heat ball up in the pit of my stomach, makin’ me have to turn away from her.

  “I’ll go hunt for clothes,” I say, fleein’ from the bathroom ‘cuz if I start kissin’ her again, I might not stop. I have to stop, ‘cuz I can tell that whatever would happen next would have a different meanin’ for her than it does for me.

  Runnin’ upstairs, I knock on the door of the master bedroom. Reed comes to the door, openin’ it and lettin’ me in. He has already cleaned up the dead corpses from the floor, burnin’ them in the fireplace. They burn well, but it smells like someone lit candy on fire.

  “Problem?” Reed asks in his clipped, military way.

  “Girl clothes,” I reply. “We need passports, too.”

  “Clothes I have now—we worry about documents later,” he says, going to the wardrobe and pullin’ out an armload of girl clothes that he probably bought for Evie. Handin’ them to me, he goes to another closet, pullin’ out some clothes I might fit into.

  “Thanks,” I say.

  “How’s Anya?” he asks, his face blank.

  “She speaks a little Navajo…not very much, a few words,” I say. “Can I ask you somethin’?”

  Lookin’ curious, Reed says, “Yes.”

  “Those butterfly things…that you feel when you’re near Evie…does it feel like…crickets jumpin’ 'round inside your stomach?” I inquire.

  A slow grin spreads over Reed’s face. “Yes, Russell, that’s exactly what it feels like.”

  “What do you think that means,” I ask.

  “It would be one way to…recognize someone, even if you cannot remember her,” Reed replies, lookin’ happier than I have ever seen him.

  “Yeah, but…does it make you want to tear her clothes off?” I ask, feelin’ irritated.

  “Yes, it does,” Reed affirms, lookin’ even more stoked.

  “Okay…good talk,” I say awkwardly, feelin’ even more confused than before.

  “Very good talk,” Reed agrees, watchin’ me leave.

  Runnin’ back down the stairs, I walk into the bedroom again, tossin’ the clothes on the bed. I search the closet and find a small suitcase. Puttin’ it on the bed too, I stop, seein’ Anya walk out of the bathroom drippin’ wet and compl
etely naked. “Tkoh,” she says the word for water, indicatin’ with a gesture that it’s drippin’ off of her.

  “Good Lord! What are you doin’ to me?” I breathe, lookin’ at her standin’ there all wet. It feels like someone aimed a flamethrower at me. “You’re not shy, I’ll say that for you.”

  Starin’ at her and seein’ her teeth chatterin’, she says, “Tkin,” which means “ice.”

  I quickly step past her to the bathroom, findin’ a towel. I cover her with it. “Here,” I say, “Get dressed while I shower. We have to leave, uh…da-de-yah…we have to ‘depart.’”

  She nods, and then she walks slowly toward the bed, pickin’ up clothes and lookin’ at them critically. Sighin’, I turn and close the bathroom door. In the shower, I wash quickly. Grabbin’ a towel and wrappin’ it around my hips, I run my hands through my hair, while walkin’ back into the bedroom.

  Anya is by the foot of the bed, slidin’ a pair of jeans over her lacy underwear, makin’ me stumble to a halt. Her wings are in now, and she figured out what the bra is for, but it’s a little small on her.

  “I should’ve taken a cold shower,” I mumble to myself, avoidin’ lookin’ at Anya again as I sift through the clothes on the bed.

  Finding a cable knit sweater that fits me okay, I shrug into it, but the pants are all too small. Lookin’ in the closet in this room, I locate more clothes. Pullin’ out jeans that are designed to be loose, I put them on and they fit me except they’re a little short.

  Sittin’ on the edge of the bed, I fall back on it, holdin’ my arm over my eyes. I feel like I’ve been run over by a truck, picked up and tossed down a ditch, rolled over and doused in gasoline, and then lit on fire—in that order. I know I should be hungry, starvin’, but I’m not.

  “Russ-el tso,” Anya says, climbin’ up on the bed next to me and snugglin’ into my side.

  I smile, despite how bad I’m feelin’, hearin’ Anya call me “big.” “Yeah, Russell tso.”

  “Russell,” Evie says, comin’ in the room. “Oh, I’m sorry…” she stammers, turnin’ and leavin’, lookin’ embarrassed.

  “NO! Red, don’t go!” I order, sittin’ up. “Are we leavin’?”

  “Uh, yeah…if you’re ready,” Red says, blushin’ and avertin’ her eyes from us.

  “Is this ass awkward, or is it me?” I ask, sittin’ up and rubbin’ my eyes.

  “No, no…it’s ass awkward,” she agrees, lookin’ as grim as I feel. “She hates me, Russell,” Red says in a whisper, lookin’ at Anya who now looks like she’s gettin’ ready to pounce on her.

  “That’s the same look Reed is always givin’ me,” I reply, indicatin’ Anya’s scowl.

  “Ugh, what do I do?” she asks, whisperin’ again.

  “I think you can stop whisperin’, for one. It seems to be botherin’ her and she can’t understand you so there’s really no point,” I reply.

  “This is worse than Candace,” she says. “At least Candace couldn’t shred me.”

  “Red, you’re pretty strong and wily. She’d have a hard time gettin’ the jump on you,” I reply.

  “Is she really your aspire, Russell?” Evie asks, lookin’ pale.

  Shruggin’ I say, “I have no idea, Red. At this point, anythin’ is possible.”

  “She’s really pretty,” Red points out, lookin’ at Anya, who’s runnin’ her hands through her hair to try to get the tangles out of it. Evie goes quickly to the bathroom, bringin’ back a hairbrush for Anya.

  Tentatively, Anya takes the brush from Evie, still watchin’ Red like she’d like to break her in two. Anya is more than pretty…she’s sexy. Even wearin’ a shirt and a sweater, they can’t hide her curves. Just rememberin’ her naked is returnin’ the heat to the pit of my stomach.

  “Yeah…she’s pretty,” I agree.

  “What are you going to do?” Red asks, watchin’ Anya brush her long, black hair.

  “I don’t know—maybe we should go and pick out china,” I say sarcastically.

  “Okay—so you have no plan yet?” she asks, frownin’.

  “There should be a plan, Red? Really? Like what?” I counter, rubbin’ my eyes. “I’ve never been in this situation before. I could use a hand.”

  “Exactly. We need Brownie and Buns,” she agrees, like I wasn’t just bein’ totally sarcastic.

  Anya growls and immediately Reed is in the doorway, speakin’ to her. Listenin’ to them talkin’, it looks like they’re discussin’ some sinister plot. Then, Reed smiles at Anya and his head nods slowly as he looks between Evie and me.

  “What, Reed?” I ask, wonderin’ what they’re discussin’.

  “Anya asked me how I can stand watchin’ your souls interact. It disturbs her, how intimate you are with one another,” Reed replies.

  “WHAT!” Evie and I say in unison.

  “I’ve long ago decided that you two don’t realize that you have auras that entwine whenever you are near one another. Therefore, I ignore it, but Anya finds it irritating,” Reed replies, smilin’ again at Anya.

  Anya speaks to Reed again and he listens intently before answerin’ her.

  “What did she say,” I ask.

  “She said that you and Evie are very dangerous, makin’ you targets. She wants to know what I’m doing to protect you and what she needs to do to help me,” he replies.

  “Did you tell her that we’re pretty good at protectin’ ourselves now?” I respond stiltedly.

  “I told her we have friends that help and I promised her that she will meet them soon,” Reed replies, ignorin’ my comment.

  “You shouldn’t be promisin’ her that. You should be tellin’ her to go home,” I reply.

  “And I already told you that she can’t go home,” Reed counters.

  “Then tell her that she should find a safe place and stay there ‘til this is over, Reed,” I say in frustration.

  “When will that be, Russell?” he asks.

  “I don’t know,” I answer. “But hangin’ with us is dangerous. Too dangerous for someone like Anya.”

  “It’s her choice, Russell. She came all the way from Paradise for you. Do you know what a sacrifice that is?” Reed asks, lookin’ stunned.

  “I didn’t ask her to come,” I point out.

  “And, yet, she came anyway,” Reed says. “If courage has any weight with you, she has it.”

  My eyebrows pull together. “She’s gonna need courage, isn’t she, Reed?” I ask him rhetorically, gettin’ up from the bed. I don’t even know why I feel so angry, but I do. Anya is an angel and she can probably take care of herself fairly well. She’s also probably super old—old enough to make her own decisions. So, why is it that I already feel responsible for her?

  “Let’s discuss it somewhere else,” Reed says, frownin’. “I found this while I was tying up the loose ends. Is it yours?” he asks, holdin’ up a cell phone.

  “Naw…shit!” I say, scramblin’ off the bed. “How much time do we have?”

  “Minutes,” Reed says, graspin’ Evie’s hand and leadin’ her down the stairs. I take Anya’s hand, pullin’ her along with me.

  “Do you think Brennus tracked the cell?” I ask. “Do you think he sent the Polish freaks to stall us?”

  Red gasps.

  “Let’s count on it,” Reed replies. “He must not have realized right away that we didn’t die on the island or he would’ve been here hours ago. He knows now. He’s coming.”

  “You have a car here?” I ask hopefully.

  “Yes, but we leave it,” he says, tossin’ coats to us from the front closet before leadin’ us to the back, through the kitchen. Anya, seein’ her bow and quiver on the table, snatches them up, strappin’ them to her back before puttin’ her coat on over them.

  “Where are we goin’?” I ask Reed, takin’ a knife from him and puttin’ on the coat he had handed me.

  “I was about to ask you that, Russell,” Reed replies, watchin’ me.

  “Huh?” I ask, used to him barkin’ out t
he orders.

  “I need your help. I’m too predictable for Brennus,” Reed replies. “I act with supernatural instincts and training. My instincts tell me that we should fly from here, but somehow I know that’s wrong.”

  “You think they’re out there?” I ask, feelin’ my skin crawl.

  “Yes,” Reed admits. “Can you do some more recon?” he asks.

  “Yeah,” I reply, not waitin’ for direction, but makin’ my clone jet out of my body and leave through the back door of the house.

  It creeps up along the drainpipe to the rooftop, keepin’ to the really dark part of the eaves. In the moonlight across the street, I see what looks like humans stirrin’, watchin’ Reed’s house. Doin’ a sweep of the area, my clone nears the rooftop of the house next door. The garbled voices of inhuman body snatchers drift to me on the muffled snowy air. Next to them, three fallen freaks are just standin’ ‘round out in the open.

  If they’re not even hidin’ that means there are more of them ‘round, I think, and that knowledge causes chaos to reign inside of me.

  Jettin’ back to my body, I report, “We’re in trouble. It’s those things that make all the hair on my arms stand straight up.”

  “Kevev?” Reed asks.

  “Naw, the other ones—the ones that are all moldy dead and walkin’ ‘round like zombies, but when they’re after you, they run like dogs—super fast on all fours. They talk like they have water in their mouths,” I describe, feelin’ adrenaline runnin’ through me.

  “Inikwi,” Red and Reed say together.

  I point my finger. “That’s them—I counted thirteen. Five across the street four on each roof flankin’ this place,” I assess. “And three Fallen, not even tryin’ to be covert.”

  “Ready to jump on us if we try to fly,” Reed says absently. “Evie, we need to leave here without being seen. Can you think of a spell that will shroud us?” he asks, rubbin’ her arms.

  “Why haven’t they attacked us?” Evie asks.

  “They’re making sure we don’t leave. Brennus is coming here,” Reed says, and Red looks like she might faint.

 

‹ Prev