by Naomi Fraser
“Mm?” Marcus’s gaze returns to the water pooling at my feet. His chest shakes, and laughter lights up his navy blue eyes. “Yes, leave.”
I frown and grit my teeth because I have no idea why he’s so happy at the thought of going. Obviously, last night was him just helping me, nothing more. After witnessing the suffering over the last couple of days with healing people, I can’t cope with more bad news. Maybe I have it right the first time in not getting close.
“I’m glad you find me so amusing,” I snap, turning to walk away, but he grabs my arm lightning-swift, spinning me back around.
“Not so fast, beautiful.” He slides his hot palm across the cool water against my bare skin, his rough calluses dragging the droplets down. He steps closer, smoothing his hand up to my shoulder, stopping at the flame tattoo.
Exquisite shivers race up my neck, and my skin tingles. Lambent heat seeping from his body accentuates the fresh, warm spice on his skin, and my senses spiral out of control.
“Got a bee in your bonnet, but you can’t go yet, not until you hear me out. We have another mission coming up. It’s a lot of money. No lie.” A muscle works in his jaw, and he releases me, shoving his hands into his pockets. “More than expected, enough to start building a retirement plan for the crew, which they’ve been harping on to me about. They’re my responsibility.”
Sorrow rips a gaping hole through my heart, the jagged edges too spiky for me to breathe. “Oh,” I choke out in sinking voice, staring at my feet, while blue drips from my knees and beads on the tips of my boots. My eyes sting with unshed tears. The water’s getting worse. I nod, trying to adjust to the acute sense of loss at the idea of him leaving, and to the awful, hollow ache inside my chest. If he can’t see my eyes, then perhaps I can hide how his news has been a blow to my heart. “I see.”
“No, I don’t think you do,” he drawls. “And this will be a helluva hard conversation if you’ll be staring at the ground the whole time. Will you look at me?”
I lift my chin, taking in every inch of his muscled legs in the brown trousers. His lean, solid hips, hands hanging loose by his sides, hard chest, and broad shoulders. And then, I meet his eyes. He’s not smiling, in fact his face might be cut from stone, but his dark gaze burns with so many emotions I feel like I’m wading into quicksand.
“That’s better.” Lightly he captures a loose tendril of hair on the curve of my cheek. “I’d much rather see your face than the top of your head. I said it was a lot of money, but that’s not solely why we’re interested. We have enough money for some supplies, both for our families and for us. I heard you say earlier you noticed the new equipment. We needed it before the Liberty fell to pieces.”
I force my face to be still. “Yes, I imagine the funds will make your trip more pleasant and . . . money must be important . . . with the line of work you’re in.”
He hazards a lazy grin. “Now don’t make it sound like we have a smuggling racket going on. Nothing as corrupt as that.” He scratches his nose, his eyes openly amused. “We do jobs for money. No one likes going hungry, and I make sure all my crew gets their pay.” He steps back, and a shaft of sunlight warms my skin. “I want to accept the job, but I need you to see the footage before I give the go-ahead. It’s what I said I needed to discuss with you at the hospital.”
I squeeze my hands into fists, straightening my spine, showing I can act nonchalant. “I need to talk to you about Qelia as well.” This time my movement makes the blue slip down my cleavage beneath the thin cotton singlet. I freeze as the moisture outlines my breasts. Hell.
“Well . . . that’s convenient.” His low voice whispers along my skin, and his lips twitch. “Keep in mind if we don’t accept the job, someone else will,” he says, and this time, he forcibly drags his gaze from my front to squint at the ship. He rakes a hand through his brown hair. “I have a feeling after you view the footage, you wouldn’t like that.”
I frown. “Really? Why?”
“You’ll have to climb back into my lair to figure it out, beautiful. Don’t be so eager to run away yet.” He saunters across the desert ground, and one step before the open dock, he throws a wink over his shoulder.
Instinctively, I follow.
*
I stare at the blank screen in the control room on board the Liberty, hating to admit I’ll do just about anything to delay returning to Flioqe’s headquarters. I’m a water healer. I’m meant to heal, not fixate on a man.
How he can be so amazingly gentle one night and maddening the next morning is beyond me. But if I leave for the city, then Marcus flies off-planet. And I don’t know when he’ll be back. I suppose in some way, I’m just going to have to get used to the idea.
A strange ache throbs in my heart, and I bite my bottom lip. April and Rick stand on my left, with Casey and Zach on my right. Constance is with May in the relaxation zone. Sarah leans over the back of the pilot’s seat, a grin on her face as she chats with Casey.
Marcus leans over behind my chair to press the on switch on the large monitor, and the warmth of his chest touches my shoulder.
Static clouds the screen, and then a grey wall with tiny white flower imprints appears. The narrow space looks to be a hallway, but the camera light is too dull for a clear view at one end. Then energy waves ripple through the air from side to side, rather than upwards. Leaning closer to the screen, some kind of instinct razes up the back of my neck, flooding my thighs, and I grip the edges of the chair.
“This is what I wanted you to see,” Marcus says, his breath caressing my ear. He points to the wall furthest away from the hallway entry where the wallpaper glistens in the meagre light. “Watch.”
Small blisters form and then bubble everywhere. A girl suddenly appears at the hallway entry. She leans against the wall as if it’s helping her stand, then stretches out her left arm past her head, while her right hand clings to the end of the wall. Pitch-black hair cascades down her oval face, across dark shoulders, but her big eyes shine with fierce intensity. She’s wearing a white singlet and shorts that contrast with her cocoa-coloured skin. Pyjamas.
The swellings bulge in the wallpaper into oversized bubbles, stretching the paper higher and higher, until the covering bursts, melting all the way through layers of paper and wood.
A fire while she’s sleeping?
She’s not even running. Then she rests her cheek against the wall. Sags against it. Her skin reddens, her eyes glowing scarlet. Flames lick the ends of her hair. Fire bursts down the hallway, as bright as a starburst, and heat incinerates the camera in one powerful shot. Then the image shrinks into nothing.
I sit back in the chair. “Wow.”
“That’s all we have, plus the general location. Nice of them to send it along, right. Apparently, she’s a bit of a fire bug, nothing is ever left standing.” Marcus grins. “Someone got wise enough to set up data streaming before she torched it.”
“Cap’n noticed the bubbling action first,” April says. “What do you think about the heat waves? Would this be . . . ?”
“Yes.” I meet April’s eyes. “A fire elemental. But I think . . . I need to know how much they want for her,” I say with bloodless lips.
“That’s all? Why?” Marcus asks.
“I’ll pay it instead. I’ll . . . do whatever you need.”
He straightens and then spins my chair around to glare at me. “What the hell do you mean by that?”
I stare up at him. “Exactly what I said.”
He jerks his head back. “I can’t help thinking you believe I’m going to hand her over, easy as you please to authorities, collect my money, and be on my way.” A muscles jumps in his jaw. “Would I have let you watch if that was the case?”
I blow out a breath. “No. That’s not what I meant. You need the money, for fuel, food, for the crew. I’ll get it for you. Water healers trade. And I meant I have to be the one to get her. None of you will survive it.” I rub the flame tattoo on my shoulder. “If she’s anything like my nana and fa
ther, she will kill you all without even meaning to, and . . .” She can help me with what I have planned for Qelia. “She controls fire. How perfect,” I whisper.
“Your version of perfect isn’t mine. Not even close. That doesn’t look like any kind of control to me.” Casey grimaces. “Death sentence, is what it is. Are you sure you want to go after her?”
I turn to him and nod, but Marcus says, “True. The job’s got trap written all over it.”
Casey’s gaze shoots to me, and then he lifts his gun onto his hip, the barrel facing the roof of the ship. “They’ll want Victoria.”
“Definitely.”
I look to Marcus in surprise. “Are you serious?”
He steps over to another screen and pulls up a map of the planets in the solar system. “Seems coincidental we got the job, and we’re the ones who brought you here. They would’ve known we’d show the footage to you, and you’d want her. So we expect them, that’s all.”
“That’s all,” I mutter. “I don’t think you understand.” I rise to my feet. “Unless they have May and are threatening her life, there is no way they could ever hold me.”
“So they’ll go after your sister? That’ll be their game plan?” Zach asks, shooting me a hard look. He seems to grow two feet taller. “Going after kids,” he grinds between his teeth, jaw hard, his eyes dark. “It won’t happen. No way.”
“No how,” April adds, giving Zach a fist bump.
“Can I have a copy of the recording, please?” I ask.
“Why?” Marcus asks over his shoulder.
“I will take it to the minister and show him why I need to go with you,” I say. “I’ll convince him it’s the only way to help Qelia permanently and to keep it secret for a little longer. It’s the truth, anyway. It shouldn’t take too long. You’ll have to keep Maybelle here, though until I get back. For her safety.”
Constance enters the room, squeezing past the others. “May’s watching a story now. No one can grab her. The dock’s locked. So, what’s going on?”
“Victoria knows,” Marcus says. “We showed her the footage. She needs a copy of the recording to show the minister so she can leave and help us on the job.”
Constance nods, inserting a stick drive into a port under the screen. “Good idea. But how will this job affect those drastic measures you were talking to me about, Victoria?”
“Drastic measures?” Marcus frowns at me and shakes his head. “What’s . . . ?”
“Actually, this fits in ideally with Qelia’s concerns. Marcus,” I say, rubbing my hands together, and in my peripheral vision, Constance stills. April inches closer, folding her arms across her chest. I blow out a breath. “The reason I need a fire elemental is because I have plans. I haven’t gone into detail with anyone else . . . I mean, I’ve told Constance it’ll have to be drastic, but that’s it. This girl will help.”
“Well, don’t keep us all in suspense now.” Marcus leans his hands back on the desk, crossing his ankles. His eyebrows arch. “What does a water healer want with someone who controls fire, other than finding another elemental? It’s not like we don’t have enough heat on this planet.”
“Observant.” A smile curves my lips as I take the drive from Constance with a thanks and head for the door. But before I cross the threshold, I turn back and smile. “I’m going to destroy one of Qelia’s suns.”
THE END
Acknowledgments
I’d like to thank Teresa Reasor and Kathy Crouch for their encouragement. Thank you also to my other writing buddies. You know who you are.
To my wonderful partner, Brad, and our three children, thank you for all your support.
A Note from Naomi Fraser
I love hearing from my readers, and if you would like to tell me what you thought of this book, please leave a review at your favourite online bookstore. I read all of my reviews!
I’m an independent author, and this is how my books are discovered, so if you want other readers to find and enjoy my books as much as you have, please take a few minutes to review my story. Thanks!
Author Bio
Naomi Fraser is an avid reader who is in constant contact with her muse. She manages her writing life alongside being a mother and takes inspiration from anything life can throw her way. She lives in sunny Queensland, Australia, with her family.
Wash is edited by Anna Genoese.
Copyright © 2014 by Naomi Fraser
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or now known or hereafter invented, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
ISBN 978-0-9875484-2-9 Paperback
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