Incendiary (The Premonition Series (Volume 4))

by Amy A. Bartol

  I breathe Reed in. My cheek rests in the hollow of his chest; his fingers stroke the arch of my lower back, following the line downward. There are no bruises upon his skin. His scars are all healed—all the ones I can see, but below the surface, fresh abrasions reside. He spent days with Brennus. He’d been abused; how badly, I don’t know. It comes to me now that this is how Reed must have felt when I was with Brennus and he couldn’t find me. He had to bear that pain for months. I only had a taste; his captivity lasted days. What is the extent of the devastation?

  I turn my lips to his chest, pressing them to him. I want to be the shelter from the storm for him, but I’m the storm. I have a tangled crown upon my brow, an unwilling queen. I’m a tragedy in the making. The phantom ribbon binding my heart to Reed’s violently rejects such thoughts; it tightens painfully. I’ll fight anyone who tries to keep us apart, anyone who tries to hurt him again. But, what if it’s me who hurts him again?

  “Reed...are you...did they—”

  “I don’t want to speak of it. It’s over,” Reed says, picking up my hand and bringing my fingers to his lips. He kisses them, his lips sliding lower, kissing my wrist. It causes a shiver to pass through me.

  “How can you not?” I ask, but I know it’s possible to be hurt and then not want to talk about it.

  “I should say that I never dwell on it. When certain outcomes are anticipated, it’s not overly surprising when it comes to fruition. I was prepared to die. It was a blessing that I did not.”

  “Don’t do that,” I say in a hushed tone. Lifting his lips from me, Reed stops kissing me to raise his eyebrow in question. “Don’t die for me.”

  “I could say the same words to you, but I know you won’t listen, just as I won’t listen. I swore to protect you with my body. I broke that vow.”

  “You didn’t—”

  “I did, Evie,” he says in a pain-filled tone. “You should never have done what you did. I could’ve killed you.”

  “Then I would’ve died with you,” I murmur.

  Reed’s response is a deep growl of frustration before he says, “How did you even come to be in the Knights Bar? Why didn’t your father protect you?”

  “He wasn’t interested in saving you, Reed. He wouldn’t have been able to get you away from Brennus. I had to go!”

  “Did he try to stop you?”

  “Yes,” I answer.

  “And you defied him?” Reed says in a concerned tone.

  “He’s lucky that’s all I did to him,” I reply as my eyebrows draw together. “Xavier drugged me and tied me up. It was Anya who freed me. You’re here with me now because your family loves you: Zee, Buns, Brownie, Russell, and Anya.”

  “And you,” he adds in a soft tone.

  “And me. I’m your family, your aspire,” I say in a quiet voice. “I have to protect you. You’re mine.”

  “And you’re mine,” he says.

  “I am,” I agree in all seriousness.

  “Do you trust me?” he asks me evenly. His green eyes, fringed by the dark, masculine lashes, bore into mine.”

  “Do I trust you? Reed, you’re the only one I trust.” I sit up to face him. I kneel in front of him on the bed.

  He nods once, and then gets to his feet and drags the sheet with him to wrap around his hips. He moves toward the bedroom door and slips out. I have a need to follow him; it’s more than an impulse, it’s bone-deep panic to protect him. I make myself stay where I am. He returns in moments, allowing my heartbeat to come down to an acceptable level. In his hand, he has a simple, medieval dagger. He crawls back on the bed and kneels in front of me.

  Reed holds the sharp end of the blade in his closed fist nonthreateningly between us, like a cross. He speaks in Angel, his sexy voice clear and unfaltering. Then he pauses. He switches to English and says, “Genevieve Ava Claremont, with my blood, I pledge my fidelity, my loyalty, and my allegiance to you, and only you, under God.”

  With his free hand, he grasps the hilt of the dagger, dragging the blade over the closed fist that clutches it. When his hand begins to bleed, he opens his palm showing the cut; its rusty scent fills the air between us. He lays the dagger aside and reaches his uncut hand to pluck a silky, gray feather from his wing. He dips the spine of the feather in his blood before he reaches over, inserting his feather among the crimson ones on my wing.

  Reed leans forward, resting his forehead in the hollow of my breast while his arms wrap around my waist. I pull him closer, my hands entwining in his hair. His wings are magnificent, stretching out around us.

  “Reed?” I ask, wondering what just happened.

  Hearing the question in my voice, Reed says, “Now your father can’t come between us, Evie. I swore my allegiance to you. You are my authority. The only one above you for me is God. You were created Seraphim—my natural leader. Only a direct messenger from God can break it now.”

  “What?” I say, my mouth becoming dry.

  “I knew it could come to this. There will be a struggle for power. Your father is a leader. He will fight you for control of you—of the army that will come to align with you.”

  “Align with me?”

  “Divine angels have scattered the world over, they’ll come and decide who they’ll follow.”

  “I don’t want to lead them.”

  “You have no choice unless you want to be at Tau’s mercy. He may not allow us to remain together. We have to find a way to get him to align with you without giving up your power. And you will have an army, whether you want it or not.”

  “Here, give me the knife—I’ll swear my allegiance to you—”

  “You can’t, love,” he says, pulling back to look into my eyes. “It has to be you who leads, but you’re not alone.”

  “I’m afraid,” I whisper.

  “Don’t be afraid,” he murmurs, wrapping me tighter in his arms. “We’re together. I’ll be with you. Anything that I have is yours. I’ll fight for you and with you until my last breath. I’ll never again break my vow to protect you. Whatever comes, we face it together—as one.”

  “As one,” I agree. There are no more words between us. We seal our promises with our bodies.

  **

  Hunger is the one thing that finally drives Reed and me from our room. Wrapped in a towel, I let Reed lead me by the hand down the hall to his room. Rifling through his closet, he hands me one of his button down shirts. It’s the best option because the Gancanagh have taken every scrap of clothing that once belonged to me. They probably have it in Ireland...I falter...no, the Gancanagh don’t have it now. I slaughtered so many of them...my father is in Ireland and he has everything that once belonged to me. My hands shake in fear, remembering what it is I can do with them. They’re capable of incinerating everything I see.

  Reed notices my hands. He takes one in his own, bringing my fingers to his lips and kissing them. I get lost in his gaze; it warms me, abating the chilling dread. When he lets go of my hand, his fingers go to the buttons of my shirt, buttoning them for me so I don’t have to awkwardly try to do it myself. When he’s finished, he drags on his own jeans. He draws in his wings, pulling a white cotton t-shirt over his head. It falls like water over his rippling muscles that are like weathered sand, causing me to frown as I lose sight of them.

  I lightly grasp the bottom of his t-shirt, lifting it so that I can see the contours of his abdomen. Leaning forward, I press a kiss to the hollow of his chest and then another one, lower on his torso. The shirt in my hand rips as Reed’s wings push out again from his back, leaving the white fabric slack in my hand. I let the cotton slip from my fingers to the floor.

  Reed’s fingers grasp the hair at the base of my neck, angling my face up so that he can press his lips to mine. His kisses are crushing, making my knees weak. I have to lean into him for support. Letting go of my hair, Reed’s hands move to my collar, pulling the fabric apart so that the buttons he just closed suddenly pop off the shirt and fall to the floor in a soft twinkling of sound. His hands part t
he shirt and then run with a sultry heat over my skin. I make a soft sound that is somewhere between a groan and a squeak.

  “I missed that sound,” Reed says against my skin as he kisses my throat, making me shiver.

  “Hmmm?” I murmur, half in question and half in pleasure.

  “The little noises you make—I especially like that one,” he says. He kisses the round edge of my shoulder. His teeth graze my skin, and I inhale a small gasp. “I like that one, too,” he growls. “There are several more I need to hear before we can leave the closet,” he says. Reed pulls me with him to the floor; he elicits an array of other intimate sounds from me that I didn’t know I make.

  **

  Dressed in another one of Reed’s shirts and a pair of his boxers, I hold his hand as I trail him to the kitchen. Pool balls striking each other make me glance into the Billiards Room as Reed leads me by it. Zephyr is hunched over the table about to take a shot and Russell is leaning against his pool stick. They both look over at the doorway as we slip by. I also don’t fail to notice the huge claymores resting within their reach, leaning against the wood-trim wainscot of the wall. Seeing the swords, I cringe and become alert. They’re expecting something, too. It makes my hand tighten in Reed’s.

  In the kitchen, Reed and I go to the refrigerator. Buns and Brownie must’ve stocked it when they’d arrived. I doubt Zephyr is letting them near the foyer, let alone past it to get outside. Russell has created a barrier around the house; I can feel his magic there. He’s protecting us.

  Reed opens the freezer and smiles. He reaches in and pulls out the family-size box of mac and cheese, lifting his eyebrow as he holds it up to show me. A blush stains my cheeks as I smile at him and nod. I take it from him and unwrap it. I turn away, setting it on the counter before I prepare the oven. Reed’s arms slip around my waist from behind, pulling my back against him and kissing my hair tenderly. His hand slips upward, tracing the line of my breast. I shiver.

  “What’s for supper?” Russell asks, strolling into the kitchen with Zephyr right behind him. They have their swords with them, which they discretely lean against the other side of the counter out of my view.

  I stiffen and look up to see Russell’s brown eyes assessing me from head to toe. My hair is tousled, hanging loose down my back. I self-consciously drag my fingers through it to try to smooth it.

  “Don’t, Red,” Russell says as if reading my mind. “You’d win the sexy bed-head contest the way it is.”

  “Thanks,” I reply as my cheeks redden. “We’re making dinner. You in?”

  “In,” he says without reservation “You okay?”

  “I’m...” I falter, “alive.”

  “That’s half the battle...stayin’ alive,” he says, watching for my reaction.

  “What’s the other half,” I ask sadly.

  He shrugs. “Kickin’ some ass,” he replies, trying his hardest to lessen the weight of everything that’s happened.

  “Thanks for taking care of the first part for me,” I try to smile while winding my finger in the air, but I know it’s not reaching my eyes.

  “I couldn’t let you off that easily. I still need you,” he admits, lowering his chin.

  I shake my head. “You don’t need me. You’re as strong as I am...stronger.”

  “I do need you,” he murmurs. “You’re my best friend...and Zee gives the worst relationship advice ever. Anya still isn’t talkin’ to me.”

  A reluctant smile forms on my lips. “She’ll come around. How could she not?” I ask, meaning every word.

  Russell rubs the stubble on his chin thoughtfully. But, his eyes narrow in concentration when Zephyr says to Reed, “Brennus lives?”

  They’d been staring at each other, assessing each other’s state of being. Reed’s expression of calm doesn’t change as he says, “For the moment.”

  “I thought I would have to hunt you,” Zephyr says in a quiet tone. “I do not think I could have killed you.”

  “If it ever comes to that, I would be grateful it was you,” Reed replies.

  “And, I, you,” Zephyr agrees.

  Reed shrugs off his shirt, allowing his wings to unfold from his back. As they spread wide, I watch Zephyr do the same, tugging off his t-shirt and expanding his light brown wings. Reed reaches out and pulls a feather off of Zephyr’s wing. Zephyr mimics the same action, pulling off a feather of Reed’s wing. Reed tucks Zephyr’s feather in his wing where his other has gone missing. Zephyr does the same.

  “What was that?” Russell asks, looking from Reed to Zephyr.

  “A promise,” Zephyr says, and then adds, “to my brother.”

  Brownie and Buns breeze into the kitchen with Anya.

  “Something smells wonderful,” Buns says. “I’ll set the table. Brownie, get the glasses.” As Buns passes on her way to the mahogany cabinets, her hand touches my shoulder, squeezing it lightly.

  Her attempt to be normal isn’t lost on me. I straighten my shoulders. I feel Reed’s fingertips touch my inner elbow, they slide down my arm, causing my whole body to attune to him. His fingers cross my palm and thread with mine. He gives my hand a gentle squeeze. I let go of him and say, “I’ll check the oven. It should be almost ready.”

  “Are you hungry, Anya,” Russell asks Anya as she hovers in the doorway, looking unsure. He walks to the table and holds out a chair for her by the snapping fire in the fireplace. Anya nods, walking further into the kitchen to the table, allowing Russell to seat her.

  Gathering the food, Buns, Brownie, and I bring it to the table while Reed and Zephyr open a couple bottles of wine and fill our glasses. We each take a seat except for Reed. Reed remains standing and says something in Angel. I gather that it is their version of a prayer by the devout expressions on the faces of the angels. Reed switches to English as he lifts his wineglass, “To my family, no matter what the future holds for us, may we always find our way back to each other.”

  “To family,” each of us says in turn before drinking. Reed takes his seat next to mine and finds my hand beneath the table. His simple touch relaxes me and I settle back to enjoy this respite with my family, this moment of grace.

  Glossary

  Aingeal – angel (Gaelic/Irish)

  Aspire – angel significant other, similar to a human husband or wife (Angel)

  A-tkel-el-ini – troublemaker (Navajo)

  Banjax – destroy (Gaelic/Irish)

  Be-al-doh-tso-lani al-tah-je-jay – many big guns (Navajo)

  Cogadh – war (Gaelic/Irish)

  Da-de-yah – depart (Navajo)

  Dún do chlab – shut your gob (mouth) (Gaelic/Irish)

  Gdzie poszedł – where did he go (Polish)

  Go hIfreann leat – Go to hell (Gaelic/Irish)

  Grá mo chroí – love of my heart (Gaelic/Irish)

  Ifrit – shapeshifting demon who hunts divine angels (Angel)

  Iniqui – demons who reside in the corpses of other beings, especially humans (Faerie)

  Ji-din-nes-chanh – retreat (Navajo)

  Khac-da – ambush (Navajo)

  Leh-chi lit – red smoke (Navajo)

  Lei-cha-ih-yil-knee-ih il-day – army arrive (Navajo)

  Máistir – master (Gaelic/Irish)

  Mo chroí –my heart (Gaelic/Irish)

  Mo shíorghrá – my eternal love (Gaelic/Irish)

  Na-dzah – return (Navajo)

  Na-ne-klah – difficult (Navajo)

  Ne-ol – storm (Navajo)

  Nevarache - lizard-like creature with black scales, yellow eyes, and long talon-like claws (Faerie)

  Nil-ta – stubborn (Navajo)

  O-zhi – miss (Navajo)

  Pocałuj mnie w dupe – kiss my ass (Polish)

  Póg mo thóin – kiss my ass (Gaelic/Irish)

  Reconnoître – black-winged nocturnal demon from Sheol who scouts and hunts prey – a messenger (Faerie)

  Riser – demon from Sheol that resembles an enormous greyhound dog until it consumes blood, and then it changes by
rising into a vicious beast (Angel)

  Sclábhaí – slave (Gaelic/Irish)

  Síorghrá - eternal love (Gaelic/Irish)

  Sláinte – cheers (Gaelic/Irish)

  Táim i ngrá leat – I’m in love with you (Gaelic/Irish)

  Tkin – ice (Navajo)

  Tkoh – water (Navajo)

  To-altseh-hogan – temporary camp (Navajo)

  Toh-bah-ha-zsid – afraid (Navajo)

  To-ho-ne – suffer (Navajo)

  Tristitiae – sorrow (Latin)

  Tso – big (Navajo)

  Tuigim – I understand (Gaelic/Irish)

  Twoja matka to bajki – Your mother is a faerie (Polish)

  Wans – human women (Gaelic/Irish)

  Werree – demons who steal body parts of other creatures to wear over their own shadowy figures (Faerie)

  Yah-a-da-hal-yon-ih – take care of (Navajo)

  Acknowledgements

  Thank you, God, for the many blessings You have given me.

  Thank you to my mother, Gloria Lutz, for all of her hard work and dedication copyediting the entire Premonition series.

  To my husband, Tom, thank you for putting up with my writer’s uniform and the general disarray! I love you.

  To Max & Jack, you’re my loves. Always.

  To Aprille, I love you, sis.

  To all of you who continue to read my stories, I’m extremely grateful for your love and support. Thank you!

  To my Indie Hellcats: Georgia Cates, Shelly Crane, Rachel Higginson, Angeline Kace, Michelle Leighton, Samantha Young, and Quinn Loftis, thank you for helping me navigate the publishing world and for being a bevy of information on all things called life. You all have such style and grace. I’m fortunate to walk among you.

  To the amazing Celeste Harrington of The Book Hookup who gave me my first interview ever. I’m really grateful and honored by you! And to all of the sublime women who gave me my first podcast review at The Book Hookup: Celeste Harrington, Christina Gaillard, Ana Hayes, Jag, and Amy Conner! I love you guys! Thank you (flaily arms for Christina). And for Ana, maybe the only person on Team Russell, you make me smile with every single one of your tweets.