The Rookie

by Abigail Owen

  Leaving me lying naked in his arms.

  The heat of a rare blush crept up her chest and neck and into her face. Then, as the lethargy of exhaustion receded more, realization struck hard. No way should he have been able to survive her fire. Who the hell, or more specifically what the hell, was he? And could she trust him? Or did she need to run?

  “How are you feeling?” The deep tones of a smooth male voice washed over her. He had an accent she couldn’t quite place—not quite American, not quite British.

  A small part of her mind hummed in appreciation. She liked his voice, which reminded her of bottomless pools of water in a cave. Dark. Sinfully beautiful. Her visions were silent, so until today, she’d never heard him speak.

  Stop stalling, she told herself sternly. Face the man.

  After all, he’d done a bang-up job helping her through that vision, though how was a mystery.

  Kasia stifled a miserably embarrassed groan. Slowly, she forced open her eyes, noting the darkened sky outside the window. How long had she been out? Obviously, they’d moved her to her usual room while she was unconscious. Dressed her, too, thankfully. A hospital gown, but that was better than naked, which was how she always ended up.

  Finally, she moved her gaze to the man seated in the chair beside her bed. Despite seeing images of him, she still had to swallow around a suddenly dry throat at the man in the flesh. His face was all hard angles with surprisingly sensual lips that kept him off the edge of too hard. In combination with dirty blond hair, almost light brown in color, that brushed his collar, and an unusual golden-eyed gaze pinned on her now, he gave off a don’t-fuck-with-me attitude that couldn’t be missed.

  He wore what she’d come to think of as his standard uniform—jeans, black T-shirt, probably those steel-toed boots he wore in every vision. An aura of control practically rolled off him, clotting the air and swamping her senses. Of their own accord, her eyes dropped to the tattoo on his arm, the pine trees around his wrist in clearer detail here than in her visions. If her body weren’t still wrung out, she’d be tingling all over by now.

  He stared back steadily, as if waiting for her to make the first move.

  Kasia grabbed the remote for her hospital bed and raised the head so she could address him more upright. Anything to lessen the disadvantage she was already starting with where he was concerned.

  “Who are you?” she asked, keeping her gaze steady on his, trying to project a calm she was far from feeling. As always, her voice came out scratchy following the fire, and she swallowed around her sore throat.

  He raised his eyebrows. “You tell me. You recognized me in there.”

  Kasia shrugged. “I don’t know. Not really.”

  “But you know me.” Not a question, and a tone that indicated zero tolerance for stalling.

  She sighed. “Yes. Sort of.” She quickly considered how much to tell him. “I have visions.”

  His brows scrunched over his eyes. “Visions? The doctor didn’t mention anything like that.”

  She flicked a glance at the door. “Probably because I didn’t tell her. When the pain comes and I light on fire, I see things. Glimpses, mostly. Nothing makes sense, and I can’t hear.”

  That intent stare narrowed, hardened. “And you’ve seen me in these visions?”

  She fought back a shiver. Guess he didn’t like that little fact. Too late now. “Yes.”

  He thought about that, and she waited him out. Eventually, he crossed his arms, the muscles stretching the limits of his T-shirt and drawing her gaze again to the tattoo on his arm. Curiosity peaked. Maybe now she’d get to see the rest of it? She’d wondered…

  “My name is Brand Astarot.”

  Brand. Uncompromising. The name suited him.

  His frown deepened. “Dr. Oppenheim thought I might be able to help you figure out who and what you are.”

  Why did she get the impression that he wasn’t comfortable with that statement, like a suit that didn’t fit him quite right? Was he lying about why he was here? If he was, why?

  “I see.” She eyed him closely. He hadn’t stated what his specific job was in that introduction. Something she found concerning. “Is that all you are?” She’d learned to ask the question lately, though certain species were more sensitive than others at being quizzed about their origin.

  Not Brand. His expression didn’t so much as twitch. “I’m a dragon shifter.”

  Panic slammed through Kasia so hard she would’ve swayed if she’d been standing. To hide her shaking hands, she clutched the blanket, pulling it up around her as if she were cold.

  Damn. Damn. Double damn.

  The scent of fire in the room made more sense now. She’d assumed the lingering odor to be her own, a remnant from her fiery vision, but it had a woodsier, earthier undertone to it, not sweet like hers.

  Why didn’t I see this coming?

  Despite wanting to hyperventilate, she did her best to keep her reaction under wraps, deliberately relaxing back against the pillows like she thought his being a dragon was a good thing, and not the most terrifying answer he could have given her. “Makes sense with the fire, I guess.”

  She glanced away, plucking at the front string from her gown as she stalled for time to think, to formulate some kind of plan. She had to figure out how to get him out of here without suspecting anything, then she could disappear.

  Kasia cleared her throat. “So how does this work?”

  Brand rooted around in a well-used backpack she hadn’t even noticed on the tiled floor beside him. He pulled out a tablet and pushed a button to turn it on. “We start at the beginning, and I decide where we go from there.”

  Fan-freaking-tastic. Another round of lies.

  She’d already given a false name and a false history. After a year of hiding in a cabin buried in the wilderness of Alaska, not being able to control her fire, she’d come here in a desperate attempt to get help. Horrible idea. It had just landed her with one of the bad guys.

  Except her visions told her otherwise. If she went on only what she’d seen in those flashes, Kasia would have trusted Brand without hesitation. The memory of how he felt earlier, arm around her, solid chest pressed against her back, his hands on her, touching her without actually touching her, threatened to take away all her logic and experience, which screamed at her to run fast and far away from this man.

  Which version of Brand was real?

  Kasia rolled her shoulders. “Didn’t you already get this info from Dr. Oppenheim?”

  He lifted his head, intense gaze back on her, making her want to shift in the bed. “Are you going to be difficult?”

  Was that…teasing…in those dark gold eyes of his? Awareness prickled through her until she slammed on the mental and hormonal brakes.

  What the hell was she thinking? Brand was as perilous as it came in relation to what she was. She had more important things than inconvenient, unwanted attraction to deal with right now. She needed to focus on escaping. “That depends.”

  Her edginess made her snippier than she meant to be, and the barely-there twinkle disappeared behind a scowl. “I’m here to help you.”

  Kasia scrubbed a hand over her face. “Sorry.” She dropped her hand to her lap. “But what I need is a doctor to help me figure out how to control my visions and everything that comes with them. Unless you have some mysterious magical cure, I don’t see what you can do.”

  He leaned back, expression showing he was clearly unimpressed. Immovable. “They can’t help you until they know what you are.”

  Shoot.

  She’d lied about not knowing what she was in the hopes that the clinic wouldn’t need the info. She couldn’t very well tell them she was a phoenix when her mother was supposed to have been the last, and most had believed her dead for centuries. Pytheios had seen her that awful night, though, had tried to scoop her up. So at least he knew of her existence.

  Was Brand here on Pytheios’s behalf?

  She needed to get him out of there, and fa
st. Sticking to her original lies was her best bet. “What questions do you have?” she huffed.

  Thankfully, he let her rudeness go and got straight to it. “Your name is Mariska?”

  “Umm…yeah.”

  He glanced up from the tablet. Despite his blanked-out expression, she got the impression he wanted to shake her. “You really want to start out by lying to me?”

  She stared back, unspeaking, mind spinning.

  “I’m trying to help you,” he pointed out again.

  She pursed her lips, then sighed. “My name is Kasia.”

  “Last name?”

  “Not important.” Not worth the risk of stating it in case he recognized the name and connected it to her royal bloodline.

  “How long has this been going on?”

  Kasia, already having answered these questions for every healer and doctor this clinic had brought in, rattled off the dates easily enough. “Everything started September eighteenth of last year. At first the fire was small. Just my hand or my fingertips. With those, the visions were quick, a flash. The longer the flames last, the longer the vision.”

  “And the pain?”

  “Similar to the fire—smaller vision means less pain.” Like less of her had to clear out of the way. “Though I still lose my sight, like a warning.”

  He took notes using a stylus to write on his tablet, making no comments. “When did it start getting worse?”

  “About six weeks ago. Luckily, I was at a lake, so I was able to control it with the water.” Burning down her hideaway in the Alaskan wilderness would’ve sucked.

  “How’d you end up here?”

  Kasia had to tread this one carefully. “My mother told me about this place.”

  He glanced up at that. “How did she know?”

  “She was a shifter.” Of a sort. Not a total lie.

  His eyebrows popped up. “What kind?”

  Kasia tipped up her chin. “A bird.” Close enough.

  Another penetrating stare landed on her. Kasia tried not to fidget, holding his gaze with effort, feeling like a schoolgirl caught telling tales.

  “Lying again?” he asked.

  Was Brand clairvoyant, or did he already suspect what she was? Phoenixes were exceptionally rare and not the only fire creatures out there. Kasia concentrated on keeping her breathing slow and even, despite the way her heart was jumping around inside her chest like a dang jackrabbit, adrenaline and fear dueling within her.

  “My mother’s dead.”

  Gods, it hurt saying that truth out loud. Her mother was dead. She and her sisters scattered to the winds, never to see one another again. Kasia was completely alone in the world, her only goal to remain hidden. That was, if she could get this freaking fire thing under control. Her mother may have tried to train them before they came into their powers, but she’d said nothing about explosive fireballs and the sensations that came along with them. Meanwhile, only a year on her own and she’d already walked right into the hands of the enemy. How had her mother hidden them for over five hundred years?

  “I’m sorry,” Brand said.

  She doubted that.

  “Tell me more about the vision you had in the lake. Did you see anything in particular?”

  Interesting. He was the first to ask that. Would it hurt to tell him?

  Kasia plucked at that drawstring again. “I saw caverns. All gray rock. Eyes reflecting in the dark, in the back of the caves. You were standing next to me, and we were talking to another man.”

  Brand didn’t move, didn’t glance up, but still seemed to move closer. “What did he look like?”

  “Dark hair. Kind of Mediterranean-looking. Greek, maybe? Blue eyes. Intense… Oh! And a scar running down the left side of his face.” She shivered. There’d been a chill in that other man’s eyes that struck her to the bone. She got the impression he wasn’t someone you wanted as an enemy. “Similar build to yours, maybe a bit shorter and leaner, and he wore a tailored suit.” She particularly remembered that, as it had seemed an odd choice of fashion for a cave.

  Brand stopped writing, but he still didn’t look up. “Got it.” He went back to making his notes. “Other family?”

  She glanced away, looking anywhere but at his hand. The one without a brand.

  Come to think of it, in every vision, and even now, he wore his hair on the longer side. To cover the mark of his family at the nape of his neck? Regardless, the man was a rogue.

  Shit. Much worse than she’d thought.

  “What?” she asked when she caught his stare.

  “Your family?”

  “No. Grandparents on both sides died before I was born.” Pytheios made sure of that. “My parents were only children as far as I know. Both dead. It’s just me left.”

  She was proud she didn’t hesitate over that last statement. She may have screwed herself by landing in this situation, but no way would she ever give up her sisters or put them at risk.

  “Okay. That doesn’t give me much to go on tracing your family. I’ll need any records you can provide. Birth certificates, pictures, official documents.”

  Kasia winced. “That’ll be a bit of a problem.”

  “Why?”

  “Everything was destroyed in a fire when I was five.” A lie her mother had told the humans whenever they started requiring that kind of proof—be it for travel, driver’s licenses, school records, or whatnot—faking their lives as normal people.

  At that Brand put his tablet down to stare at her. “You’re telling me you have no information on your background and family history.”

  “Yes. I’m sure that makes your job harder.”

  He snorted an unamused laugh. “More like damn near impossible.”

  Kasia pretended to be disappointed, drooping back against the bed. Now if she could get him to leave. “Well…thanks for coming anyway, Mr. Astarot.”

  “Brand. And I’m not leaving. Not yet, at least.”

  She turned her head to look at him. “But you just said—”

  “Your situation makes any normal human means of investigating your background pretty useless. However, I happen to have access to several supernatural methods.”

  Dammit. “So, there’s hope of finding out what I am?” She continued to play out her role of not knowing until she could get the dragon shifter out of here.

  He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and she got the impression he was…amused. “I’m not giving up on you yet.”

  Why did it feel as though his words carried a double meaning? She attempted a smile that she hoped appeared appropriately grateful, or whatever. “So, I’ll hang out here, exploding every so often, until you get back?”

  Best news she’d had all day. He’d leave, and she could disappear.

  “Nope.”

  She jerked her gaze to his. “Nope?”

  He shook his head. “I’m certain I can contain your fire if or when you…explode…next.”

  Was that a secret grin? Better not be.

  “So…I’m coming with you?” she asked slowly.

  He stood, stuffing his tablet into his backpack. “Get some sleep. We’ll leave in the morning. Better to travel in the daylight.”

  Kasia blew out a long, silent breath of relief. Regardless of how short the absence, he’d still leave. She just had to play this out until he did.

  Brand stood and slung his backpack over one shoulder. When he made to walk away, she put a hand on his arm, surprised when his muscles bunched under her touch. Even more surprised when her wrung-out body warmed at the contact.

  She swallowed. “What time?”

  He stared at her hand still gripping his arm. “I’ll be back at six a.m.”

  Had his voice roughened?

  He pulled away from her grasp then almost seemed to relax, shoulders dropping a hair. The guy appeared to have a serious issue with touching. He glanced at her hospital gown. “You might want to wear something else.”

  Never had she been so aware that she was naked beneath
the flimsy material. She had to keep herself from glancing down to see if her nipples were visibly beading. “Right.”

  That wouldn’t be his problem, because when he came back tomorrow, she’d be a ghost…long gone and far away from there.

  Chapter Two

  As soon as Brand left the room, Kasia counted out the minutes, figuring at least ten would mean he had time to clear out of the facility. Longest damn ten minutes of her life, which was saying a ton, given how old she was in human terms.

  Not like waiting and watching as her mother sacrificed herself, those last few moments spent separated by a field of moonlight and fire. Witnessing her mother die while fighting for her children’s lives didn’t slow down time, it sped it up.

  Then came waking up alone in a cabin in the middle of the Alaskan wilderness. Of the four sisters, Kasia needed human contact the most. Waking up alone—Maul, the faithful hellhound her mother sent her to, didn’t exactly count as human—day in and day out had been a slow form of torture.

  Finally, the minute hand pointed to the three. Kasia hopped out of bed, adrenaline already pumping. With shaking hands, she yanked on the darkest clothing she owned, jeans and a navy tank top, and stuffed her hair into a baseball cap. She needed to blend into the night as much as possible.

  Going up on tiptoe, she felt around on the closet shelf where she’d stashed her wallet, which contained a myriad of fake IDs, prepaid credit cards, cash, and other untraceable necessities when trying to stay off a hunter’s radar. She also grabbed a wire hanger from inside the closet. She was going to need transportation.

  With more haste than care, she stuffed those and extra clothes into her backpack. Then glanced around one last time. Another empty room. Not for the first time she wondered if this transient existence resulted in an empty life. Was she going to be running forever?

  A quick check of the hallway showed no one nearby. If she was going to go, now was the time. She wanted as much of a lead as she could get before anyone discovered her absence and raised the alarm.

  Kasia closed and locked the door to her room, stepped up to her window, then paused and bit her lip. The doctors and staff had been nice to her here. She couldn’t let them think she’d been taken.