Flames of Hope

by Cassandra L Shaw

  “People go to eat at places convenient to them as well. What’s the story if we have to come regularly, since Todd and Storm live on the other side of town?”

  Jasmine looked outside at a huge billboard. “That. We are here to look at the small-acreage housing estate a mile up the road. We are going to be checking the lots, choosing a house from the display homes. House-hunting.”

  Xylvar nodded. “Great. What fun, and very married. We’ll go up there after lunch, get some brochures and stuff.” Sarcasm saturated each word.

  Guess he never saw himself being a family man.

  Their drinks and pie arrived. As discreetly as possible, they watched everyone who entered and left the café. To pass time, they pulled out Xylvar’s cyber tablet and looked at the estate.

  They ordered second drinks. At lunchtime, they asked for a menu.

  “Wow, you guys moving in?” the waitress asked.

  Jasmine took Xylvar’s hand, the way she’d do if he was her husband, and struggled with how right it felt. For less than a second, Xylvar’s gaze penetrated hers to her bones. “Might be. We’re looking at the acreage estate up the road, but the houses on display aren’t open until after two today, and we didn’t realize.” Hopefully she hit the right level of bubbling excitement.

  “That estate’s going to be great. Most lots are big enough to have a couple of horses, and an area for the kids to play. There’s even a large sporting area, with tennis courts, a baseball diamond, and a cricket/rugby field, plus horse and bike-riding trails around the back of the estate.”

  “You live there?”

  “Heck, no. Single mother waitress pay isn’t going to buy me one of those. But you never know, I might find myself a sugar daddy.” She winked and laughed, then took their orders and hurried off to handle the lunchtime rush.

  They both ordered steak, steak fries, and a large side salad, and ate in silence until Jasmine sat back and groaned. “I can barely move, but we should go and look at that estate and a few houses. Everyone here looks like your everyday worktime lunch crowd, and none fit the halos Rooster sent of those four key Humans First followers.”

  Xylvar nodded. “Tomorrow we’ll come late afternoon, have an early dinner.”

  Jasmine blinked several times. Her eyes were so dry, she wondered if they resembled raisins. “Do your contacts annoy you?” she asked in very low murmur. She’d worn them before, but not for hours and hours on end, and even though they floated on a layer of moisture, it wasn’t enough.

  “No. Use the drops. I’ve worn contacts many times for long periods, so I’m more or less used to them.”

  She picked up her bag and headed for the ladies. After dripping drops into her eyes until they watered with moist gratitude, Jasmine headed into one of the pine-clad stalls and boggled at the sheer stupidity of the two of them trying to imitate a standard domestic couple. Xylvar’s acting talents were worse than hers, and she had no delusions about her own lackluster abilities.

  Her mouth was dry from all her inane chatter she’d spouted to fill in the huge gaps in conversation between them. And, not usually big on smiling, her face hurt from smiling at everyone. Hopefully people would assume they were a couple where opposites were attracted, and the female had poor taste.

  Not in the looks department, though. Xylvar was still drop-dead gorgeous if you got past the dead-souled stare. And his scar, although not exactly a panty-moistener, added something masculine and rugged to a face that used to be almost too pretty. The problem with their ruse was his constant watchful assessment of the world surrounding him, making him appear the predator he’d metamorphosed into after he disappeared.

  The predator he remained.

  Hell, she got it. She’d changed too. As an agent, she’d witnessed many horrifying things. Been involved in fights, seen, even caused death, and faced the darkness inside people. And knew some of that darkness had inevitably seeped into her own psyche.

  Some changes were bound to occur, though the worst of what she’d gone through happened before she joined the FBPI. She’d watched the man she once loved, her ex-fiancé, fall under Mule’s terminal spell until he died, convulsing and foaming at the mouth, in her arms.

  Yeah, that shit changed you. Changed her enough to head into law enforcement. Busting apart her first Mule syndicate, though cathartic, introduced her to her own drug of choice—justice.

  She pulled her jeans up and heard the murmur of voices coming from outside the building. Odd anyone would want to stand outside the ladies’ toilet when, if she remembered from when they parked, a large rubbish dumpster sat right below the toilet windows. You’d only have a meet and greet in such a place for a drug deal. Undercover and on sabbatical or not, that shit wasn’t happening on her watch.

  She put her ear against the wall and realized there was a crack next to the toilet roll holder that let in a small shaft of outdoor light. She squinted through the crack and saw a man’s jeans-clad ass about a foot away. The man pulled something out of his rear pocket.

  “That’s the address. The couple look to be pure Crea, and from what I can work out, they’re clanless, so no one is going to miss them too soon.”

  “This is for the last six. We’ll drop off payment for these two if they’re genuine. What shift you on next?”

  “Friday, early-bird.”

  “A man will have breakfast. He’ll order something from the menu and ask for a side of turkey bacon.”

  “We don’t have turkey bacon.”

  “Who cares? That’s the man. You have my contact info if you find more loner subs.”

  Shit. Not drugs—worse. Kidnapping, blood-draining assholes. One set of footsteps drifted off, then the ass moved away from the crack, revealing the dark blue dumpster. She grabbed her jeans, hauled them over her hips, then paused. Go calm, Jaz. No matter how much she hurried, the men would be out of sight by the time she got outside. To maintain her Storm cover, she needed to freshen up before rushing out.

  She washed her hands, smiled at another woman who walked in, applied fresh lipstick, and brushed her hair. As casually as she could fake it, she walked back out to find Xylvar waiting at the door.

  “I paid.” He looked at her carefully. “Feeling okay?”

  Outside, a white van pulled out of the carpark area. She squinted but couldn’t get a read on the license plate. “Huh, what?”

  “You’re a bit flushed.”

  “Oh, yeah. No, feel fine” She forced a smile. “Come on, honey, let’s go check out the estate properties, see some houses.”

  The words oh, my gods, jammed a large fist in her throat. If she heard those men correctly, she’d found the first connection to the kidnappers. She wanted to knife the men involved, then fist-pump the air with goal-achieved excitement.

  She casually ran a finger over the knife she had hidden under her shirt. And looked forward to what her casual observation might bring to their undercover door.

  9

  Chapter Nine

  Outside the Loose Moose Jasmine scrambled into the van and waiting for Xylvar and his chair to lock into the driver’s position. Only a couple of reasons existed for people to kidnap Crea and Eli—excluding perversion and ransom demands if the family was wealthy.

  The more likely reason, more sickening in such times of hyper-racism—to murder them and render out their metals, or keep them alive to carry out the banned practice of blood harvesting. To weekly drain them of large amounts of blood to distill for the gold and silver.

  Intensively farmed, subhuman cattle.

  Sure, more gold and silver existed in the tissues of a sub, but if farmed the right way, past experiments showed that over a two month period far higher yields could be harvested from blood. And, if fed right, subs could be milked, week after week, after week until they died of old age.

  Jasmine waited until they were heading for the acreage estate. She put her hand on Xylvar’s leg without thinking, feeling his warmth. She scowled when he didn’t respond. A quick glance down
and pulled her hand back. The realization that he couldn’t feel her touch was a boxer’s gut-punch, stealing her breath.

  “Xylvar.”

  “Todd. You have to use Todd. We don’t know when someone might get suspicious of us, plant hearing devices.”

  Damn, she should have thought of that. Talk about a rookie mistake. “Todd, honey,” she dropped her voice to as low as possible. “I think I heard someone organize the kidnapping of two Crea. Crea without clan.”

  His face showed no emotion. “I’ll park up the road. We’ll go into a shop, and you can tell me in the shop.”

  Two blocks farther on, he parked in front of a large pharmacy. Inside, with Jaz following, Xylvar rolled to the aisle with lubes and condoms. He flicked his hand at the shelf’s contents. “Take your pick, babe.”

  “Do you make fun of everything?”

  The cold look he gave her held a ton of up yours. “Now how, what, and who? I want word for word.”

  She repeated what she heard. They bought a bag of chips and two cans of a soft-fizz drink, then headed for their car. They found and entered the estate and drove around, then went into the three display homes Xylvar could easily access. After chatting with an eager salesman, they took as many brochures as they could to help with the image of a couple eager to buy their first home.

  Jasmine sighed when they left the last one. The way her love life went, she’d never be part of a couple buying their first home. It would be just her, alone.

  Back at their apartment as soon as they pulled up, Vanessa and James hurried out to the car. Vanessa held up a cake box, looking very pleased with herself. “Best cheesecake this side of New York! Thought we’d take you up on that offer of coffee this afternoon, if it still stands.”

  Jasmine opened her mouth to refuse, but Xylvar’s deep, smooth voice cut her off.

  “Sounds great. Storm, you let our guests in and start the coffee.” He opened the front door and let everyone walk in front of him, then rolled himself in. “I’ll join you guys in a moment.” Then he moved on down the hall.

  Jasmine made the coffees, rummaged around for and found the dessert-type plates, and put them on the table. Invited James and Vanessa to sit with a gesture.

  “Todd all right?” Vanessa asked.

  “Wonderful, he just has other needs to attend to.”

  James nodded. “You two know each other long?”

  “Six months. Not long. We met and just fell for each other.”

  Vanessa looked down the hall. “What does he do for a living?”

  Hate life and himself. “Writes for cyber magazines. We both do. It’s how we met.” Kaid’s team had set up fake articles by hacking through a few magazine’s cyber walls so people could find Todd and Storm in print.

  Vanessa took a breath to speak again, but Jasmine cut her off. “So how did you guys meet?”

  Xylvar wheeled out, looked at Jasmine, then bounced his gaze off her to their guests. She almost saw him pull on the fake friendly persona. She just hoped it played better than the snarl/smile and watchful gaze at the café.

  She walked over and leaned down to kiss him on his scarred cheek. “Act in love,” she murmured, and bit her lip at the tingle she experienced from the simple act of touching her mouth to his cheek and day-old stubble.

  He turned his head, his gaze locking with hers. A quick slide of his hand brought her closer, and he kissed her.

  Hand firm on her head, he didn’t release her, but forced her to open and kiss him back. With a quick intake of breath, he removed his hand and lips, leaving her wanting something she shouldn’t. Heat flooded her skin, and, in a panic, she slammed down her silver, keeping it out of sight. Hopefully only a pink blush showed, which she prayed Vanessa and James would interpret as embarrassment over showing affection in public. Not as a show and tell of how the kiss, firm and demanding and over way too soon, affected her.

  Jasmine found it easy to keep Vanessa and James chatting about themselves, but when she saw Xylvar stiffen in his chair, she declined the invitation to watch the newest romantic comedy halo at the local halo arena. She probably wouldn’t have enjoyed the halo, but she’d have loved watching Xylvar cope with such a movie.

  Vanessa paused on the doorstep. “Your setup here is different from ours. Our bedroom is right at the back of our duplex. Just so you know, and our walls are thin.”

  “Lucky our main bedroom is up this end, then.” She gave the sort of breathy laugh she heard other woman do in situations like this.

  Vanessa looked at her shoes, then back at Jasmine. “You know, it was odd, but last night we could hear someone talking on and off in the room that backs onto ours.”

  Hells bells, they really were thin walls. “Really? Our voices must have carried. We lie in bed and chat a lot.”

  “Yeah, sure. Anyhoo, we’ll catch you later.”

  Once Vanessa and James left, Jasmine shut the door and turned. “Shit, I talk in my sleep. Must be loud enough to carry through the walls.”

  Xylvar ran a hand over his face, glanced down the hall, then back at her. “Guess we’re going to have to play bedmates after all.”

  Jasmine grimaced. Sharing a bed wasn’t what either of them planned on…or wanted. “Sorry.” She couldn’t stop yapping in her sleep, since she’d been doing it all her life.

  “Well, at least you can rest assured I won’t maul you during the night.” He spun on his chair and headed for the small living room, clicked the halo onto a news channel.

  She followed. “I’m surprised you agreed to them coming over.”

  “Figured it’s what a new couple in the area would probably do. Plus, have you noticed the vid scanners they have pointing around the place? And they have a tiny drill hole in the wood around the window next to the door. Most would figure it’s an insect hole, but I saw the shine of a lens deep inside it.”

  He must have amazing eyesight. She hadn’t even looked at their door long enough to know the color. “Checking who’s at the door?”

  “Perhaps. But then why have another one under the eaves facing our door and drive? Who knows how many there are in total, or where?”

  “They might not be active. Someone in the past could have done that.”

  “Or they’re up to something. Be very careful around them. We might not be the only two in the block who are playing let’s play house.” He patted the pocket of his tight, long-sleeved knitted shirt. “I’ve done a sweep around the apartment, looking for listening or vid devices, but found no untoward electro-fields to indicate anything. But I don’t trust them.”

  Jasmine sat on the couch and sighed at its soft comfort. “Too friendly?” Their sociability hadn’t triggered any worries in her. “I suppose, in reality most people aren’t so friendly.

  “They don’t know us, and we now know half of their lives. Doesn’t seem right.”

  “Guessing they’re feeling lonely since they moved from Dallas.”

  “Moved from Dallas, but have no real Texan or southern accent. If they did move from Dallas, then they only lived there a few months at most.”

  “I think you’re being paranoid, but I’ll keep my eyes and ears open around them. I gather you contacted Kaid’s clan regarding the suspected Crea who are going to be kidnapped?” The reason he disappeared down the hall when they first came inside.

  “I have. We’ll be there on Friday. Rooster and Jarin will be on surveillance, and Kaid’s contacting Zane from Crea clan. Tomorrow we go back to the café and somehow find a way to bug every table.”

  #

  Evening dragged into night. Jaz sank deeper into the corner of the couch she’d chosen as her spot. She’d curled her legs up, as if pulling all her appendages into herself might make her disappear. Early, as the evening chilled, she dragged a small, fluffy blanket over her legs, but now it covered her up to her shoulders. The way she focused on her book made Xylvar wonder if it revealed the secret of immortality. Jaz yawned several times in heavy-eyed exhaustion, yet still avoided going to
bed because he guessed, she had to share it with him.

  Not a shocker, or one-sided. He loathed the idea of sharing his sleeping space with someone else. It had been years since he shared a room, let alone slept in the same bed. Loathed it would be a woman he once loved and still found impossibly attractive.

  All night he’d smell her hair, hear her soft breathing, feel warmth radiating off her. A torment when he couldn’t and wouldn’t touch.

  Nod time was going to suck, all right, but he’d deal. The cards were ragged and stained, some of the deck missing, but he always dealt.

  She yawned so hard her body shook.

  “You can’t keep avoiding it. You have to sleep, and you won’t get a decent night’s sleep on the couch.”

  “Oh, yeah, I’ll just finish this chapter.” Those words, slurred and evasive, made him really feel married. He spun his chair and headed for the bedroom. He’d get ready and into bed, and maybe that would make his bedmate feel safer.

  It was midnight before Jaz ventured into the room, hesitating at the door in case he lunged out of the bed and accosted her virtue. He played asleep, on his side and facing away from her side of the bed.

  After she hit the bathroom, the mattress dipped, her stiff presence a mere foot away. She rolled. His nerves and heightened senses kicked into overdrive—hyper-aware of the person, of Jaz being beside him. Time ticked by until finally he felt her relax, felt the heaviness of her body as she drifted into sleep.

  Too bad he couldn’t sleep.

  His T-shirt annoyed him, and he yanked it off over his head and flung it to the floor. He couldn’t feel his boxers, though, so they could stay. Hopefully the sight of his bare, burn-scarred torso wouldn’t freak her out. Sheet pulled up, he rolled onto his back. Fuck. The sweet, rose-scented instrument of torture she called shampoo, which he could swear she used to torment him, filled his senses. Without thinking, he picked up a curl, straightened it, then let it wrap around his finger before lifting it to inhale. He couldn’t imagine the glory of burying his face in a handful. Well he could…just couldn’t see her letting him live afterward.