Fire Fall (Old School Book 4)

by Jenny Schwartz

  The satellite phone on the coffee table rang.

  Vanessa jolted.

  Seth froze for the tiniest moment. Then he pulled away. He picked up the phone, checked the number, and with an unreadable glance at her, answered the call. “Seth.”

  Not “hi” or “hello” or the name of the person calling. He’d recognized the number, so he knew who it was, yet he didn’t greet them, just confirmed his identity. This was a business call.

  Vanessa jumped down from the counter. She half-turned away to clip the clasp of her bra and adjust everything. When she looked back at Seth, he watched her. A furious expression was creeping across his face.

  “Problem?” she mouthed the question.

  He shook his head.

  She didn’t think that the gesture meant there was no problem; only that he’d handle it.

  “A helicopter,” he said.

  She couldn’t hear the response of the person who’d called, but it was a male voice. Whatever they’d called to report, Seth didn’t want to hear it. Making coffee gave her something to do as she eavesdropped.

  “No,” he said firmly. “She can’t stay.”

  There was a pause as he listened. He scowled at her as he did so. “Then have someone drive in. Send two agents. No. This is not a negotiation. If you don’t send protection to get Vanessa out of here safely, I’ll do it.” A squawk of protest came from the phone. “I don’t care.” He paced away as the voice muttered urgently. The cabin door closed behind him. He stood on the porch, back to the window, facing the incredible view.

  The incredible view that was being obscured by smoke, Vanessa realized. The wind direction must have changed. She switched on the radio, finding a local station and listening for a fire report. The cabin seemed relatively safe. Unlike many, it sat in open ground, not tucked among trees, and it was up high, above the most flammable pine forests. Still…wildfires were dangerous.

  She listened to the radio announcing fire status updates, warnings and recommendations for when people ought to get the heck out of Dodge. Mentally, she recalled the maps she’d studied of the region. The cabin and back toward the cave were safe for now. The fire was to the north, burning unpredictably as the wind swirled. Best guess, though, was that it wouldn’t come near them. Unless the suspected arsonist who’d lit the first two fires that had joined to become one big fire decided to light up another patch of forest.

  “We need rain,” the radio announcer said. “Everyone pray and be safe.”

  On the porch, Seth had turned off the phone and leaned on the railing, arms braced, head bowed.

  Vanessa poured two mugs of coffee and carried them out. Smoke hung on the wind.

  “The local airport is closed,” he said to her. The man who’d kissed her ten minutes ago as if he’d die without her, now considered her without emotion. But his hands gave him away. His knuckles were white as he gripped the porch railing. “I told my uncle to order in a helicopter to take you out of here.”

  She interrupted him. “You wanted coffee.”

  He accepted the mug impatiently. “He refused.”

  “I can book a helicopter. We have the satellite phone.”

  Seth stared across the valley. “It won’t have a trained wizard aboard.”

  She tried to choose her words sensitively. Even if he was overprotective, now wasn’t the time to debate that issue. Nor did she want to fight with him. “I think you’re overestimating the danger to me.”

  “Do you think your dad would think so?” He faced her. He sipped his burning hot coffee and watched her changing expressions.

  He’d see shock, doubt, frustration, and then, belatedly, suspicion. “Your ‘Uncle Callum’, is he Callum Arkwright, director of Stag?” He had to be. It started to come together: Seth’s magical strength, his independence within Stag, and his confidence in bending the agency to his will. “Stag is your family’s business?”

  “A great-uncle on my mom’s side started it. Those of us with the magic, or a liking for admin work, join Stag.”

  “But you play down the family side of it. I never realized that you were Callum Arkwright’s nephew when you acted as Stag liaison with the Old School.” She could call the Old School for help in getting her out of here, but she couldn’t see a reason for a magical bodyguard. Even if Andrew Krayle wanted revenge for her stabbing him, he had other problems—and he wasn’t a wizard any more. He was a threat that could be handled with mundane methods.

  Still that wasn’t the current issue. Nor was the revelation that the Stag Agency was actually a family business. The point was the one Seth had made by mentioning her dad: Stag owed her. Their team, thanks to Andrew’s treachery, had bungled her hostage-retrieval from her kidnappers. They ought to be falling all over themselves to regain her billionaire father’s goodwill by sending a helicopter or anything else to extract her safely, now.

  “Callum wants me to stay in the mountains,” she said slowly. “Why?”

  “For me,” Seth said tersely. “To save me.”

  Seth hated the confusion in Vanessa’s expression. But worse would be finding what he searched her face for. When he saw fear in her eyes—fear of him—it would destroy him. He’d be forced to watch the destruction of their relationship before it had a chance to grow.

  He wanted to damn his uncle for seeing clearly where he, Seth, hadn’t. Too blinded by my emotions. By hope. He hadn’t noticed how often he’d used null-space last night, and Vanessa was the reason he hadn’t felt the cost of it.

  Callum thought he was doing Seth a favor, trapping Vanessa here with him. But the trap had sharp teeth that would tear Seth apart. Vanessa would have a front row seat for the curse Seth lived with.

  It wasn’t a literal curse. It was an aspect of his magical nature, a talent he’d been born with. He called it null-space. Grimoires from the Middle Ages had another name for rare talents like him: Abyss Guard. In him was the Void, and he called it forth when he cancelled the magic around him.

  “How can I save you?” Vanessa demanded. “Why do you need saving? Does Stag have a seer on staff?”

  “No seer. It’s not a prophecy.” Dread weighted his muscles and turned him coward. Which wasn’t what she deserved. “Let’s go inside, out of the smoke.”

  He granted himself the indulgence of touching her, guiding her inside with his hand at her waist. He had to make her understand the truth of who he was—what his magical talent cost him—and then, she wouldn’t let him touch her again.

  “I shouldn’t have thought I could keep this from you,” he said as he closed the door behind them, closing them inside the snug cabin with the long sofa they’d made out on. He couldn’t sit there. He stood by the fireplace, while she sat on the sofa; perched on it like a bird ready to fly away at the first hint of danger. “Some of my family manage to separate their work for Stag from their private lives. I guess, subconsciously, I was hoping I could do the same. But null-space isn’t a spell.”

  Bright and attentive, concern obvious in her expression, she quoted his own words back to him. “You said that when you wrap it around you, other magic users can’t sense you.”

  “Yes, but when I actively use it, it deactivates their magic. Cancels it.”

  She was smart, so he gave her time to put the clues together. Solving a problem brought a deeper understanding than merely being told the answer. She didn’t disappoint him. After a couple of minutes spent in frowning concentration of the cold fireplace, she tucked her bare feet up on the edge of the sofa cushions and wrapped her arms around her knees. It was a defensive, self-protective posture whether she meant it to be or not. She’d worked out the answer. “Andrew said you bound his magic. You cancelled it, didn’t you? Like null-space but attached to him and without his permission.”

  “He gave his permission,” Seth said swiftly. “He signed the contract when he joined the Stag Agency. For grave misuse of magic, for actions causing death, an agent can have his magic stripped from him. I separated his magic from him
by blocking the channel with null-space.”

  She hunched her shoulders. “I didn’t mean to imply that you acted improperly, Seth. I know you. I just…I meant that the involuntary loss of his magic obviously contributes to his resentment.” Her arms tightened around her knees. “He deserved his punishment. I knew Stag would take his magic. Your uncle Callum told Dad. The current liaison to the Old School reassured me a couple of times that the traitor had been punished.” She looked at him. “But they also said that the ordinary, mundane justice system would deal with him. How can he be free in the mountains? He’s meant to be in prison awaiting trial for accessory to kidnapping and other charges.”

  “Uncle Callum’s looking into it. We didn’t know Andrew had escaped.”

  “Escaped or been released?”

  He lifted his hands in a slight gesture of ignorance.

  She sighed. “Come and sit by me.”

  He didn’t move. “You’re all hunched up. Let me finish explaining null-space and its implications before—”

  “Come here.” She jumped up, caught his arm, and pulled him back to the sofa with her. “You’re going to explain how null-space works and what it costs you, and I don’t want you over there and me here. I want to be cuddled.”

  She was warm and giving and pushed herself under his arm to nestle against him.

  When she pulled away, it would break his heart.

  No, it won’t. Hearts don’t break. But his was hurting. He stroked her arm, unable to resist the little touches he’d lose soon. “Do you remember when we discussed the charms Andrew had?”

  “Yes. You said that for those of us without magic, charms use our life force.” Her voice shook on the last words. “Seth, does null-space suck out your life?”

  He smiled wryly at the horror in her voice. “No. I could live with that.”

  She sat up straight and slapped his chest. “Well, I couldn’t!”

  “Vanessa.” He caught her hand. “My magic initiates null-space, but emotion fuels it. Usually when I employ null-space I emerge emotionless at the end of the session. After a serious or prolonged use of null-space, I literally burn out my capacity to feel emotion. That’s what happened when I bound Andrew’s magic. I go cold inside.”

  “But you didn’t this time.” She curled her fingers around his, squeezing. “You were there with me. I felt your emotions.”

  “That’s what scares me. The unbelievable thing is that I didn’t even notice. It’s the first time I ever remember fooling myself because I wanted something so badly.” You. I want you. “Uncle Callum pointed it out after I reported to him just now. I mentioned my repeated use of null-space, but my voice wasn’t robotic. My report included emotion-based supposition and reactions. At the cave, I was so concerned with keeping you safe, and other emotions, that there was no Void.”

  “Okay,” she said encouragingly.

  He tore his hand from hers and stood. He raked a hand through his hair, giving her his back and staring out the window at the growing smoke cloud on the horizon. “You don’t get it! I fed the Void our emotions. What I feel for you. Your feelings for me. That’s why I didn’t shut down into Robot-Seth. I used what’s between us as some sort of battery to fuel null-space. I didn’t realize I was doing it, I swear.” He turned back to her. “I won’t do it, again.”

  “Why not?”

  “Why not?” he echoed scornfully, disbelieving. “That’s what Uncle Callum said. ‘Why not see what happens?’ But it’s wrong. I can’t—I won’t—drain our emotions to fuel null-space.” The nightmare vision haunted him of all the powerful emotions he felt for her being siphoned eternally into the Void.

  She joined him at the window. She didn’t touch him, but her eyes were enormous. They were bluer than the sky, intense and thoughtful. Compassionate.

  He wanted to look away—he never wanted to look away.

  “Seth, you might be one of the most powerful wizards I’ve ever met. One of the toughest, most dangerous men. Yes, I know you are. You’ve never scared me. But right now, right this minute, you’re being dumb.”

  He flinched.

  She wasn’t finished. “But fortunately I’m an expert on your problem.” Her smile was rueful, tinged with sadness.

  It made his heart ache. But it also made him hopeful. There was understanding in her eyes, not rejection.

  “When I was kidnapped. I learned about fear. Andrew was right. The fear froze me into passivity. The kidnappers locked me in a basement. But I locked myself down even tighter. I couldn’t see beyond my fear. That’s what you’re doing.”

  She took his hands and guided his arms around her. Then she put her arms around him. They were such gentle touches to tie him as securely to her as they did. “Love is limitless. That’s how I heard a preacher define God once. Infinite love. Whether you believe in God or not, love is the most powerful force in the universe. Other emotions burn out, but love can’t be measured. It can’t be exhausted. The more love you burn through in null-space, the more you create because you’re using that love to protect those you love, to be true to yourself. You’re a protector, Seth.”

  He was too stunned even to blink. This was not the rejection he’d anticipated. This was acceptance and reassurance.

  “I blame Stag,” she continued, not yet finished rocking his world. “You have a very macho culture at the agency. When you go on a mission, you’ve probably already locked down your softer emotions, like love. You were trained to do so. No one wants combat-mercenaries distracted. So on these missions, when you activate null-space, it only has mission-approved emotions to feed on. Emotions like anger, determination, revenge. They might seem powerful and endless, but they’re not.”

  “Love is,” he finished quietly.

  “It should be.” She stretched up on tiptoe to kiss his jaw. “It depends on how willing you are to surrender to it.” Another kiss, higher up his jaw. “Love is complicated like that. There’s no courage in control. Only in giving everything.”

  He lowered his head to catch her kiss.

  She dropped back from tiptoes to her heels. She’d been so brave, but now she drew a little shred of self-conscious self-protection around her. “I’m not saying that I love you. Or asking if you love me. I’m just saying…whatever it is we feel for each other, I’m okay with it saving you from the Void.”

  “Saving me.” He cupped her shoulder blades before pushing a hand up through her hair to hold her steady for his kiss. He’d thought of the Void as a black hole, something that sucked in everything and left him an empty shell. However, what he’d felt for her at the cave hadn’t emptied endlessly into the Void. He hadn’t lost his emotions; hadn’t wasted them as he’d feared.

  Her mouth parted beneath his, as generous as her insight and emotions. She shared herself with him and he ate up her sweetness. He leaned back against the cold glass and it heightened the contrast of her warm in his arms.

  A hungry, keening sound, a tiny moan, escaped her. He wanted a million more of those sounds that brought his hard body to the edge. He’d had her bra off and her breasts filling his hands before his uncle’s phone call broke the moment. But as much as Seth wanted to take everything further and truly test the sofa’s sturdiness, the reason he’d pushed Vanessa so hard to make it back to the cabin hadn’t vanished.

  “I have to go,” he whispered against the soft skin beneath her ear. Josh had to be caught.

  “Not yet.”

  He shuddered and drew her tight against him, trapping her wandering, tantalizing hands between them. “I don’t want to leave you.”

  Her head jerked back, her gaze locking with his. “I’m not leaving you.” There was no give in her statement.

  “When you joined my search for Josh, we agreed that as an Old School coordinator you also needed to know what Svenson sought. Now we know that Josh has designed a massive shield spell.”

  “But we don’t know what for.” Where desire had softened her muscles, now she was actively resisting him.
/>   He respected her strength. He still wanted her safe. And he had other arguments. “You said you wanted to play in the mountains. This isn’t a good time for that. It’s not just Josh and Andrew. There are the fires. It’s dangerous, and you don’t have to prove your courage any more. Not to yourself, and no one who knows you ever had to be convinced. You fight for those you love. There’s every reason for you to leave the mountains, and none to stay.”

  “You’re right, but you’re also wrong,” she said. “You’re right that my reason for coming to the mountains is gone. I said that I wanted to learn to play, again, but really I was chasing happiness, and I found you, my phoenix feather.”

  “Pardon?”

  She gave him a small, embarrassed smile. “There’s a legend that a phoenix feather can grant happiness for as long as it burns. I came here looking for one. But I don’t need it. Searching for a phoenix feather is a fairytale quest. Real life is better.” She squeezed him.

  He regarded her quizzically. “Your Old School friend was with Marcus Aurelius.”

  “You know about Sadie’s adventures?” She stared up at him.

  He shrugged, amused by her shock. “It was Stag agents who went after them.” His amusement faded. “We shouldn’t have accepted that contract, but it served to alert us that Gerald Svenson is attempting to establish himself as a power in the magical world.”

  “But how could you know…” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “…about the phoenix?”

  “I saw it with Marcus. I don’t mean ‘seeing’ in terms of physical sight. I can sense magic. The bird with Marcus was blazing with it, and since there were a couple of rumors that his grandfather had supplied one or two cronies—and an enemy—with phoenix feathers or blood, I put two and two together with what I know of Marcus. After his grandfather died, Marcus freed the captive phoenix, didn’t he?”

  She nodded. “I couldn’t tell you.”

  “Because it wasn’t your secret.”

  She leaned into him. “I love how you understand things.” She stretched up to claim a kiss.