Burned by Fire (Blood & Magic Book 3)

by Danielle Annett

  I wasn’t some fragile flower, and I’d done just fine taking care of myself these last several years, but I wasn’t shifter. I didn’t heal as quickly as they did, and my abilities weren’t limitless. If James really wanted to, he could rip me in two before I could move my pinkie finger, and he knew it. There was a reason the other factions gave the shifters a wide birth. Don’t mess with them and they won’t mess with you.

  The Pack has its enemies though, and being Declan’s mate made me Pack, whether I agreed with it or not. If anyone wanted to get to Declan, the easiest way for them to do so was now through me.

  “You and I should train together.”

  Yeah, because that was going to happen.

  “You’re stronger than you think,” he continued.

  “I don’t doubt my abilities,” I told him, dipping a French fry in ketchup before plopping it in my mouth. There was just something about unhealthy, greasy food that made everything seem right in the world.

  “Maybe not, but you don’t use them fully, either.”

  I frowned.

  “James is your friend,” Declan said. “You pull your punches because you worry you may cause permanent damage. I’d be a much better partner for you to train with.”

  I mulled the idea around as I licked salt off my fingers. Figuratively, yes, I pulled my punches, but only because fire wasn’t all fun and games. I did it for the same reason James didn’t use his claws or teeth.

  “I’ll think about it,” I told him. And I would. “Thank you.” He seemed pleased with my response, and a warm sense of contentedness washed over me. I continued picking at my fries, and for once the silence wasn’t awkward.

  We talked about trivial things over the next hour. I told him about work and my struggle to find good employees. And he told me about his concerns regarding the South Atlantic Pack.

  “Their Alpha has requested passage through my territory for business reasons.” He didn’t sound happy about it.

  “Is there a reason you don’t want him here?” I asked. Our waitress came and cleared our plates. Eyeing the scrap of paper in my water glass, she frowned but didn’t comment.

  “He’s arrogant. I have to see him once every three years when all of the Pack Alphas convene with one another. I have two years left, and I’d like it to stay that way. He’s also new. He’s only been the Alpha over his Pack for two years. His ego gets in his way, and he forgets his place.”

  “Okay,” I reasoned, “what are some benefits to allowing him into your territory?” Declan took a deep breath.

  “It will strengthen interPack bonds. It could make him an ally if I grant him this request, which would allow me to call on him should things between the Pack and the Coven—or the Pack and the HAC, for that matter—ever boil over. It could also help some of our Pack businesses that do trade with some of the Florida state businesses under his control.”

  “Aside from personal issues and your apparent dislike for him, are there any downsides?”

  Declan gave the question some thought before responding.

  “He could challenge me. He would lose. I’m not sure he knows that. He’s overconfident, and I’m much younger than he is. At the last Alpha meeting, he tried. Others intervened before he could issue the formal challenge. They saw in me what he could not.”

  I nodded. Declan was younger than most Alphas. At his current thirty-three years of age, he’d been the Pacific Northwest Alpha for nine, which meant he had risen to power when he was only twenty-four. During these past nine years, Declan had never been issued a formal challenge. Most Alphas were challenged on a nearly annual basis, but Declan was a scary strong. I hadn’t encountered every shifter out there by any means, but I had never come across anyone who vibrated with the amount of raw strength and dominance that Declan exuded.

  “What happens if he challenges you and you win?”

  “I take responsibility for the South Atlantic Pack, which is clear across the country. I would have to divide my time between both Packs. It would put strain on both Packs and myself. I don’t know how long it would sustainable.”

  “You could pass the Pack over to another Alpha, his second, maybe. Or send someone from here over there if you’d rather one of your own people in control.”

  Declan was shaking his head. “It doesn’t work that way. You don’t get to pass the torch. It has to be taken by force. If I tried to pass the Pack to a different Alpha, it would threaten my hold here in the Pacific Northwest. It would make me look weak, and it would put my Pack in jeopardy. If I beat their Alpha, Noah, in a challenge, it would merge our two Packs. Anyone who challenged my control in the future would have both territories to gain, not just one.”

  “And if you refuse his request?” He needed to see all of the possibilities and work through them.

  “He would make himself my enemy. He is petty and has a quick temper. He wouldn’t take the slight lying down.” His voice was resigned. He knew he had to grant him entry. The risk of making him an enemy outweighed the possible challenges posed by a merged Pack should a challenge arise.

  “It sounds like you have your answer, then.”

  He turned to me, his startling green eyes alight with something I couldn’t name. “Thank you,” he said.

  I furrowed my brow. “For what?” He smiled and my heart felt…warm. It was difficult to describe.

  I excused myself to use the restroom and rubbed my hand over my chest.

  Located down a narrow hallway past the kitchen, I went inside and washed my hands. Declan was more real to me. This felt like the first time we’d had a real conversation without biting one another’s heads off. I smiled to myself, and then caught my reflection in the mirror. My dark brown hair hung past my shoulders, framing my face and reminding me all too much of my mother. Pulling the hair tie from around my wrist, I quickly plaited my hair, pulling it away from my face. Better.

  My golden brown eyes looked tired. Talking with Declan had seemed to reenergize me, but now I felt all but dead on my feet. I still hadn’t caught any real sleep.

  Drying off my hands, I left the restroom. Our waitress’s voice reached my ears before I cleared the hallway.

  “Did you see the woman he walked in with? She’s so plain,” she said it with a sneer in her voice.

  “He could do so much better,” another voice agreed. As I cleared the hallway and our waitress along with her group of friends came into view, a hush fell over them. I could feel their eyes on me as I walked past. I didn’t care that they thought me plain. I didn’t wear pounds of makeup or dress in today’s highest fashions. I was practical and I liked myself, yoga pants and all. So what if I was more muscular than curvy or that my features were sharper than what was typically deemed attractive. She could shove it.

  I kept my head held high and kept my eyes forward.

  “See, I mean, just look at her.”

  Irritation bloomed inside of me and before I could talk myself out of it, I eyed the edge of her apron and called my fire.

  “Felicia, you’re on fire!” one of her coworkers cried.

  She wasn’t completely on fire. Just the very edge corner of her apron. She swatted at the small flame frantically, her friends moving to assist her. One threw a pitcher of water on her, soaking not only the apron but our waitress’s face. She sputtered and her makeup ran in rivulets down her face, leaving twin black trails.

  “Mary Ann!” Felicia shouted, her tone accusing.

  “Sorry, but the fire is out,” her friend supplied.

  I tried to feel sorry as I made my way back to our table, but I didn’t have it in me. Starting the small fire was petty and beneath me. I realized that I just didn’t care.

  Declan had a grin on his face but didn’t comment. He threw several bills on the table and we left.

  The next day, I pulled my Honda Civic into the parking garage of Sanborn Place, the business I’d inherited from my former employer, Mike Sanborn. He’d been more than my employer. He’d been my friend, my mentor
, and my family. Sanborn Place wasn’t the same without him, but I’d managed to keep it running. I rubbed at my chest, the ache there a physical one. He’d taken me in after I’d been living on the streets shortly after the death of my parents and the Awakening, when all things that went bump in the night had decided they were sick of lurking in the shadows and were ready to join society, whether humans were ready or not.

  I’d been seventeen at the time of the Awakening, and twenty-one when Mike had found me. Jaded and alone. Mike and his wife Marion had had no reason for taking me in, but they did anyway, and they’d made me feel welcome. They had given me the support system I’d needed to get on my feet and figure my life out.

  I missed him. What would he say if I told him about my current predicament? Would he have any words of wisdom to bestow? I laughed. Mike would tell me to suck it up and figure my shit out. I could hear his gruff voice in my head. “Ari, the shifter believes you’re his, and he’s the damn Alpha. You may as well accept it and decide if you want him to be yours, because he won’t be giving you up, not easily.” And he wouldn’t. Declan had made it clear last night when we returned to the Compound that he wasn’t going to give up on this. Shifters mated for life. I shook my head. I always seemed to find my way into trouble, and Declan…he was definitely trouble.

  I brought my hand up to touch my lips. The ghost of his kiss was still lingering there. I hadn’t realized the effect he would have on me. I was still getting used to the waves of emotion that sometimes leaked through our mate bond. I knew he tried to hold them back. I did the same, but sometimes, feelings just snuck through, and when he’d kissed me, a gentle brush of his lips across mine before we each retreated to our rooms, it seemed like the floodgates had opened. I’d felt desire, hope, and need in a staggering wave.

  The contact had been brief, but it had left an impression. Left me thinking of things that I’d been avoiding thinking about for a reason.

  I breezed through the office doors and came to a sudden halt realizing that I hadn’t left Sanborn Place unlocked. I could clearly remember locking the front doors when I’d left two days before and the building was warded. No one should have been able to get in while I was gone.

  A frail-looking woman was seated in one of the lounge chairs in front of my desk. Her graying hair was pulled back in a knot atop her head, and she wore a floor-length skirt in a deep maroon paired with a black long-sleeved top that had flowing sleeves. Her wrists were covered in thick bangles in varying metallic tones that jingled as she stood. My eyes met hers, and in them I saw a spark of youth. She might have looked elderly and frail on the outside, but I had a feeling that she was no frail flower. How the hell did she get in here?

  “Can I help you?” I asked. I stepped forward and shook her hand while keeping my free hand at my side, fingers relaxed and ready to grab one of my daggers if the need arose. I hadn’t been caught off guard in quite some time, but after Aiden’s visit at my apartment, I wasn’t going to take any chances. Finding a strange woman in your office when you’d left the doors locked, well, anyone would be suspicious.

  “Miss Naveed?” I nodded as she rose to her feet. “Oh, good. I wish to acquire your services.” Straight to the point. I walked around her and took a seat, indicating that she should take hers as well. She sat, and folded her arms in her lap in a demure fashion. She wasn’t fooling anyone.

  “What can I do for you?” Thin white lines marked her face, so fine that I almost missed them. They weren’t wrinkles. Scars, maybe. The markings had no pattern or order, but crisscrossed her face to form delicate threads. I caught myself staring at a particularly long scar on her cheek and pulled my gaze away to meet her eyes. I saw understanding in them, but no shame. She knew she was scarred, that people would stare, but it didn’t bother her.

  “My name is Olivia Fields, I’m a member of—”

  “The Evergreen witches,” I said, cutting her off. That explained how she’d bypassed the wards. They’d been set by one of her own. She smiled, and I snapped my jaw so hard I could hear my teeth rattle. Sanborn Place was an investigative agency of sorts. Really, I was a mercenary for hire, but I liked to think of myself as a P.I., or a P.S.—professional soldier. It sounded more appealing. My client list, however, was almost entirely human. I was the one to call when something scary invaded your yard and it was too much for you or the HPED to handle.

  On occasion, I was hired for an oddball bodyguard case or to assist when two or more factions were involved, as I had been when Daniel Blackmore, a shifter child, had been killed almost a year ago and evidence had pointed at the local vampire coven, because I could be an unbiased third party. There were three major players in Spokane, Washington. The vampire Coven, the Evergreen witches, and the Pacific Northwest Pack. The HAC was technically the fourth, but the populace wasn’t as aware of them as they were the others, so they stayed under the radar for most people besides myself.

  As a merc, my path crossed with the Pack and Coven on rare occasion, but the witches, however, never asked for help, ever. It didn’t matter if multiple factions were involved or if they might step on someone’s toes. The witches didn’t seem to care, and most of them were just plain batty. They held the city’s magic in their very hands, were an integral part of the landscape. The witches had an otherworldly quality to them. They knew too much, saw too much beyond the veil of our world, and the power that they held as a collective extended beyond our dimension. At least, that was what the stories said. It was almost as though an unspoken rule was written in stone. You didn’t mess with the witches. They had magic, and they didn’t need herbs or potions to use it. What could I possibly help them with?

  “Ah, so you’ve heard of me?” She seemed pleased.

  “Ms. Fields—”

  “Olivia, please.” I nodded.

  “Olivia, then. It’s a known fact that the Evergreen witches do not seek outside aid.” I folded my arms across my chest. “What is it that you’ve come to speak with me about?” Olivia Fields wasn’t just any member of the Evergreen witches. She was their spokesperson. After the Awakening, there had been mass panic in the streets, and everyone and everything deemed different was considered dangerous.

  When humans are afraid, they become angry. It didn’t take long before people came out with their axes and pitchforks, ready to repeat the Salem witch trials all over again, because nobody liked living in fear. Olivia Fields stood as a representation of the witches’ power. When humans had come together in mass to charge through their gates, Olivia had come out alone.

  The Evergreen sect was located in Spokane Valley in the Dishman Hills Conservation Area. A rich forest that anyone who didn’t belong would get lost in.

  When humans had thought to massacre the witches and burn their lands to the ground, Olivia alone had shaken the ground they stood on, causing cracks within the Earth that swallowed many of her would-be attackers whole. Ponderosa pines had come to life, their roots reaching out like vines to lift people off of their feet and toss them aside outside the forest’s boundary. It had been an epic display of power. News crews had still been present back then, and everything had been caught on tape and broadcasted worldwide. The witches were not to be trifled with, and that particular instance had only been a warning.

  “You’re correct in your assumptions, but we haven’t sought outside help before because we haven’t needed it. Now we do. I’ve—” She stopped. “We’ve been forced into a situation and cannot have any delays. We need as many eyes and ears on this as we can manage.” My ears caught what she wasn’t saying and my gut twisted.

  “Are you seeking my assistance as the owner of Sanborn Place,” I asked, “or—” I had a sneaking suspicion that my reputation as a merc wasn’t what brought her here.

  She smiled. “It is my understanding that you have a relationship with the shifters, that you may be able to persuade them for assistance in this matter.”

  “You’re asking me to use my position as a Friend of the Pacific Northwest Pack
?” She shook her head.

  “Let’s be honest with one another. Your relationship with the shifters goes beyond Friend of the Pack, does it not?”

  How did she even know Declan had claimed me as his mate? It wasn’t like we’d broadcasted the information.

  “You’re aware that if you want assistance from the Pack, you have to make a formal request, go through the proper channels?”

  “And be turned away, wasting precious time in the process, because the loss of one of ours has no bearing on the Pack.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  Her lips pressed into a flat line. “I do, Miss Naveed. I do. There is no love between the factions. The Coven has no love for the Pack, the Pack has no love for the witches, and the witches have no love for either. Human officials will not help us because we are other and they fear us. It has always been this way. You are not a shifter, yet you are now bound to the Pack, and they are in turn bound to you. You have a different perspective, and from what we know of you, you have a deep love for children and the innocent. I am asking for your assistance in saving the life of a child. Will you help me?”

  Well, when you put it that way. I couldn’t say no. I wouldn’t leave a child at risk if I could do something to stop it—but I was one person. My resources were limited.

  “I’m not—”

  A wave of her hand halted me from finishing my sentence. “Here is a photo of her. Her name is Marcella, and she is eleven years old. She was last seen at this address.” She handed me the photo and a piece of paper. “Take this to your mate and tell him that, in exchange for his assistance, the witches will come to his aid when he has need of us. We will be in your debt, and we always pay our debts.” She wasn’t playing around. I silently took both items and nodded. I understood the value of what she was offering. Declan would too. Whether he’d want to get involved or not was another story, but with this offer, he’d at least seriously consider it.