Incendiary (The Premonition Series (Volume 4))

by Amy A. Bartol

  “What about Preben?” Reed asks, and then he shrugs at my raised eyebrow, saying, “He and Brownie have a thing.”

  I bite my thumbnail. “I don’t know…let’s work out the details with Zee and Russell, and then we can approach Preben later, okay?” I ask anxiously.

  Reed’s frown deepens. “Evie, what happened at dinner?” he asks.

  I shrug as I try to downplay what must look like a complete freak out in Reed’s eyes. “I got the distinct impression that their plans for me may not include my friends,” I answer.

  Reed relaxes a little. “We knew that they would have their own ideas about other angels. It’s rare for Reapers to be involved in fighting. They don’t know Buns and Brownie, yet. They’ll see the benefit of having them around as companionship for you,” Reed replies reassuringly.

  “No, you don’t understand…I mean all of my friends…” I trail off as anger makes a blush come to my cheeks. Understanding filters into Reed’s expression. “They outrank us, don’t they?” I ask.

  “They do,” he agrees.

  Quickly, I tell him what happened at dinner tonight. “If you wanted to tear us apart, what would you do?” I ask Reed feebly.

  “I’d send us on separate missions,” he responds without hesitating.

  “Could we say no?” I ask.

  “No, but Tau will see reason,” Reed says, straightening. “He hasn’t had an opportunity to observe us together. You’re his daughter. He’s concerned about the circumstances of our binding.”

  “Why should we have to explain ourselves to anyone?” I ask. “It’s not his decision. It’s ours and we already made it.”

  A sexy smile twists Reed’s lips despite the seriousness of our discussion. “Yes, we did, didn’t we?” he agrees.

  Leaning forward, he slips the blanket from my bare shoulder. His lips trace where the blanket had been, causing me to lose my breath.

  “We need a plan,” I whisper as I lay back against the soft mattress. Reed follows me.

  “We’ll have an egress if diplomacy doesn’t succeed,” he says, trailing kisses over my sensitive skin. “Let’s just hope that we won’t need it.”

  “Why?” I ask.

  “Because there will be a price to pay if they catch up to us,” he replies in a low tone.

  “I love you,” I whisper softly in his ear, wrapping my arms around him again. “You’re worth any price to me.”

  “And you are priceless,” he states.

  “You’ll fight to stay with me?” I ask, feeling his lips slip lower. I bite my bottom lip as my eyes close.

  “There is nothing more important to me than you,” he says with his lips hovering just above my skin. Then he kisses me again and I gasp softly.

  A loud rap on the wooden door of our room makes me jump before Russell’s voice comes through it.

  “Reed, you in there?” Russell asks with a strained tone.

  A growl comes from Reed before he rises from our bed. He waits while I wrap the blanket around me before he opens the door.

  Russell continues rapidly, “They lost Evie. Xavier is having a complete hissy fit lookin’ for her…” he trails off when Reed reluctantly opens the door wider and he sees me sit up on the bed. “AHH, RED!” he exclaims with a mixture of relief and irritation. “What the hell?”

  “Long story. You can tell them I’m okay,” I say.

  “Naw, you can tell him,” Russell says, shaking his head in disgust. “I’ve already got one angel pissed off at me at the moment and that’s all I can handle.”

  “Anya?” I ask.

  “Who else?” he responds sullenly. “All’s I wanted her to do was share my bedroom, ‘cuz there’s no way I’m lettin’ her stay here in a room all by herself and she started cussin’ me out in Angel—and before you ask me how I know she was cussin’, let me just say that all y’all have cussed me out enough for me to know,” Russell says while glaring at Reed.

  “Russell,” I cut off his rant, “where is Xavier now?”

  “Oh, you mean where’d he go after he tossed my room around lookin’ for you?” he asks with a sarcastic twist of his lip.

  I pale before I nod.

  “Zee told him that Reed was in the North Tower and hinted that you probably went there, too. Then, he sent me here to get Reed,” Russell replies with a cheeky grin.

  “Remind me to thank Zee,” I remark to Reed.

  Reed nods in agreement and says, “I’ll go and tell Tau that you’re here. Russell, can you stay with Evie until I return?”

  Russell glances at my worried face and relents. “Sure, Zee’s watchin’ Anya for me. She probably prefers him to me right now. I’ll babysit ‘til you get back.”

  Walking to the beautiful, mahogany chest, Reed sifts through it and pulls out a long, deep-red nightgown. Coming to my side, he hands it to me. Eyeing it like it’s a cold, dead creature, I arch my eyebrow at him.

  “Would you prefer a corset?” he asks me with a smile.

  “No,” I sigh. “This is fine.” I lift it above my head and let the silky fabric slip over my body under the blanket.

  “Please stay here until I return,” he requests.

  “Okay,” I answer. But, when he turns to go I bound out of the bed saying, “Wait!”

  Turning back towards me, he catches me in his arms when I throw mine around him. Reed’s kiss makes me forget about Russell until Russell clears his throat behind us.

  “I’m still here,” Russell says sourly.

  Reed, eyeing the nightgown hugging every curve I possess on its way to the floor says, “I’ll be right back.”

  “Hurry,” I reply, and in a second, he’s gone.

  Closing the door, I slip back to the bed, pulling a blanket off it and wrapping it around me like a shawl.

  “Your room’s nice,” Russell remarks, looking around it.

  It is nice. It has a rustic-cottage feel to it. The large bed is somewhat imposing, but the only other furniture in the room is the simple chest and a couple of soft chairs near the stone fireplace. In the corner of the room, near the fire, a door leads out to a walled garden I had seen before I came in. I walk to the door, opening the top portion of it that swings in leaving the bottom in place. Cold sea air lifts my hair.

  “I thought it would be different in this tower—the Harem,” I say over my shoulder.

  Russell walks to the fire and picks up the poker, stoking it before laying another log on.

  “It’s not all like this…most of it looks like a brothel, except for this room. This room was…” he trails off.

  “Brennus’,” I finish for him, knowing that this is his style—simple elegance. Everything else is for show: to display wealth and power. But, this is more to his taste: quiet beauty.

  “Yeah,” he says. “Are you gonna tell me what’s goin’ on?” Russell asks.

  Taking my last look at the wintry garden outside, I close the door and turn to face Russell. “This is all my fault,” I say while wringing my hands.

  “Don’t sweat it, Red. Xavier is a…” he trails off, seeing me shaking my head.

  “No, I mean, this mess—why we’re here,” I choke.

  “Ah, yeah, no shit, Red,” he says with his crooked smile. “I already figured out it wasn’t me. I like stuff simple—you’re the one that’s always gotta prove the world isn’t flat.”

  “No, Russell…I’m sorry,” I say with remorse, “I think it was all me—what went wrong between us.”

  Russell stills. “Why, what did you find out?” he asks, losing his smile.

  “Xavier said…some stuff about being my guardian angel for centuries…” I swallow hard, before continuing, “and, he said that I sort of asked to do this so that I could have the ultimate free will.”

  “The ultimate free will, Red, what’s that?” he questions in a quiet tone.

  “Uhh, I feel sick,” I murmur, stumbling to a chair and sitting in it.

  “What’s the ultimate free will?” Russell asks again, taking the
seat next to mine.

  “It’s the ability to choose…I asked to choose my own love—one that wasn’t created for me,” I admit as insane guilt hits me in waves. “Soul mates are created for one another—not really much free will there.”

  “Why would you do something like that?” he asks, sounding confused.

  “I don’t know,” I say, shaking my head and staring into his brown eyes. “Xavier said I did it for him, that we were in love…”

  “NAH! NO WAY!” Russell says angrily. “You wouldn’t come here just ‘cuz of him. You would’ve come, but not for him. I know you,” Russell says, pointing at his chest. “You’d accept this and make the best of it, but you wouldn’t have done it at my expense.”

  “What if I’m that selfish, Russell,” I ask him sadly.

  “You’re not,” he says adamantly. “We need to talk to Anya. She’ll know.”

  “Do you think she’ll tell us?” I ask.

  “Yeah, I think she will. She’s not a player. She’ll either tell us or she won’t, but she won’t distort the information in her favor.”

  “Why do you say that?” I ask.

  “‘Cuz they have an agenda, Red,” Russell says. “Xavier obviously wants you and your dad wants control. Our team threatens both those things.”

  I blink, seeing his point. “How do you know that?” I ask.

  “‘Cuz I’ve lived thousands of times and I’ve been a parent in almost every one of them. We’ve had daughters, you and me…many, many daughters. You’d be surprised ‘bout what you’ll say to get your daughter to do what you want—to protect her.”

  I think about what he just said for a moment before a small smile twists my lips. “Those angels are out-gunned with that kind of arsenal, Russell,” I say.

  “They should start takin’ notes,” Russell replies with a cocky lift of his eyebrow. “Now, if you’re done eatin’ that shame sandwich, you can tell me what else they said.”

  I tell him about dinner with Tau and then my confrontation with Xavier. He shakes his head grimly. “They want to break us up?” he asks.

  “I don’t know. They’re really only interested in me…everyone else is ancillary to them,” I admit. “Tau wants to school me on being a Seraphim—rank, position, blah, blah, blah.”

  “And, you’re not down with that?” Russell asks with approval.

  “Naw,” I say, using his drawl. “They’re all just angels to me. Equals.”

  “Agreed,” he says with a nod.

  We both fall silent then, staring at the flames in the grate that slowly begin to make me feel tipsy with their hypnotic dance. The soughs of sea air against the windowpanes create a strange music that wafts around me in a blanket of comfort.

  “I remember this,” Russell says with a heavy-lidded smile as he gazes at me from his chair.

  “Hmm?” I ask sleepily.

  “I forgot how much I like this…just this,” he says, reaching out and taking my hand gently in his. He gives it a light squeeze before he lets me go again.

  “What do you mean?” I ask with a limp smile.

  “Just sittin’ with my best friend, watchin’ the fire slowly die…” he explains, trailing off to relive some distant memory of us.

  “I like it, too,” I admit with my eyes transfixed on the embers.

  “It usually only happens later, when our passion for each other’s replaced with ole bones,” Russell says and smiles wearily.

  I smile back dreamily, “Either I’m losing my touch or Anya has eclipsed me because we’re not aging.”

  “She’s done somethin’,” Russell says. “I’m all snake-venom and recoil when I’m around her—ready to strike out at anyone who gets too close to her.”

  “Yeah?” I ask as my eyebrow lifts in intrigue.

  “Yeah,” he admits. “Then, when we’re alone together…it’s like it was with you ‘cept,” he glances at me.

  “Don’t leave me hanging. Except what?” I prompt him.

  “‘Cept I got those butterfly things you got for Reed,” he replies, watching me for my reaction.

  “Ohhh,” I say with a little smirk. “Those. What are they like for you?”

  “Ahh, you really want to hear this?” he asks, looking slightly embarrassed for having brought it up.

  “Uh huh,” I nod without hesitation.

  He exhales a deep breath before saying, “Shoot, it’s like…it’s like I’m prowlin’ ‘round her, so full of wolf-fire and raw emotion that I want to throw back my head and howl at the top of my lungs, but it won’t stop the avalanche of attraction from fallin’ down on me. The more I’m with her, the more perfectly alive I feel and greedier I am for her attention.”

  I nod my head. “Yep, that sounds about right,” I agree. “What are you going to do about it?”

  “I don’t know,” Russell replies, frowning. “I think I messed up huge already. I treated her like a second-rate hand-me-down. She hates me.”

  “It’s impossible to hate you, Russell,” I reply honestly.

  “Impossible for you…she’s doin’ a pretty good job at it,” he replies with a sigh.

  “You’ll think of something,” I say, believing every word.

  “My track record’s not very good lately,” he says, eyeing me.

  “Ahh, but you have the advantage, because I’ll bet that she has the same butterflies for you that you have for her,” I reply with a wry smile. “They seem to come in pairs.”

  “You think?” he asks.

  I nod, adding quietly, “She’ll have to come with us.”

  “We’re leavin’ then?” he asks me just as softly.

  “I’m not letting them break us up,” I reply sourly.

  “When?” he asks, already onboard with whatever plan we make.

  A warm feeling enters my chest at his answer. “We’ll have to work that out,” I answer.

  “I hope it’s soon,” he sighs tiredly, “bein’ here is exhaustin’.”

  I yawn. “Yeah,” I agree.

  I close my eyes against the blurring firelight, deciding that I’ll make an attempt to rise and stumble to bed in a second, after I rest for a moment.

  The soft sound of a latch releasing from its idle makes my eyes open. That sound is replaced by a low, enchanting strain of music whose instrument completely eludes me…maybe it’s a steel guitar? Glancing towards the garden door, the purplish, bruising shadows are being pushed back by a sliver of golden light, peering through the crack.

  A warm, sultry breeze, with the reminiscent scent of sun-baked sand, creeps around me. I glance to Russell’s chair next to mine; it’s empty. Confused, I sit forward and search the room, but it’s empty, too.

  “Russell?” my soft voice intones, hoping to hear his reply, but nothing comes.

  Slowly, I rise from the chair and walk in front of the fire to the garden door. Inching it open, I peek outside. The rhythm of the far-away music softens, making me strain to hear it as my eyes adjust to the dazzling glow of sunlight. Squinting against the glare, the moss-covered, stone path leading away from the door is the only part of the garden that is illuminated; the rest is dark and shadowy night.

  Prepared to bar the door, I hear Russell’s distinctive laughter coming from behind the small copse of trees where the garden path leads. I hesitate, but the humorous timbre of Russell’s laugh floats to me again, along with woodland sounds of winsome fauna.

  I open the door and step through, my bare feet peeking out beneath the silken froth of the ruby-colored nightgown while its train trails behind me. With each step I take beyond the door, flora grows up along the path, chasing away the hopscotch of dead leaves and replacing them with explosions of vibrant greenery. My legs begin to tremble beneath me with apprehension.

  “Russell, where are you?” I whisper cautiously into the receding night.

  All around me, the lushness of the garden keeps growing as dewy vines sprawl-climb the slate-gray walls. My wings splay out in anticipation of flight while their edges serrate t
o knife-like points. A shiver of fear erupts through me when a wiry rabbit scampers from behind a white-petal tree blossoming before my eyes; the fragrant shower of ivory speckles the rabbit’s brown, downy hair.

  Balmy air, filled with exotic, intoxicating scents, gently touches my skin, bringing with it the lulling melody. Resisting it’s calming effect, I whisper-yell, “RUSSELL MARX!” into the darkness just beyond the path.

  “Yeah, yeah…I hear you, Red,” Russell answers me in a distracted tone. “I’m over here.”

  I blow out a huge sigh of relief and straighten up out of my defensive posture. “What are you doing out here?” I ask with irritation dripping from my tone. “Is this your magic?”

  I walk forward on the path and round the trees of the small arbor. Then, I stumble to a halt as my stomach turns to ice. Russell is standing amid Faolan and Declan beneath a lovely, pink-flowering tree. The fellas flank him as Faolan shows Russell a wind conjuring spell—twisting a dust devil in an intricate dance around the garden floor. The wind harasses a shower of soft petals to fall upon their hair and shoulders.

  Declan and Faolan appear outwardly friendly, laughing together when Russell magically takes over the whirling dust cloud and makes it turn in the opposite direction. My legs and arms are heavy with paralyzing fear as I discard several attack scenarios in my mind because they all have the potential of resulting in Russell’s death. Declan, comprehending my predatory watchfulness, puts his arm around Russell in a show of camaraderie, or a threat to me, depending on the interpretation. Thwarted, I have to suppress the instinctive urge to growl at him.

  Reading my enemies, they seem to have changed their appearance. Faolan, tall and slender, has lost his pale veneer, and now looks almost ruddy. Declan, too, has a normal-looking skin tone. As Declan turns with Russell to follow the path of the chaotic windstorm, my mouth drops open, spying silvery wings slicing outward from his back in tall, arching lines. Declan’s ears also look faerie-like, with elongated points where they had once been rounded.

  “Red,” Russell calls to me, “did you see that?” he asks, looking dazed as the wind dissipates into nothingness. He gestures for me to join them with a lean of his head, but then it lolls forward, indicating to me that he is under some kind of charm or spell.