Make Me Burn: Fireborne, Book 2

by R. G. Alexander

  When she looked back toward Ram, she moaned. His eyes were closed as he stroked himself, her name like a prayer on his lips. She wanted him too. Wanted to go to him. Wanted to straddle his hips and ride him until she’d gotten him out of her system. Until neither one of them could move. “Ram.”

  “Aziza Jane,” West spoke firmly. “Look at the fireplace.”

  She obeyed and gasped again. “It’s the desert from my dreams.”

  “Is that what you see?”

  Aziza nodded. She always seemed to return to this place. The place where her line was born.

  West spoke softly as he helped her to a standing position. “The place where all the lines converge. Where things began. Where they could end.”

  The world was in flames, the sky on fire above her head, and a thousand voices were calling her name. Screaming for her help. She wanted to run—whether it was toward them or away, she wasn’t sure—but her feet were suddenly buried in sand. The same black sand that had changed her, that had given her its gift while taking her over from the inside out, was holding her in its grip and trying to pull her down. Bury her alive. She couldn’t escape it. Knew she would never escape it. Soon it would be the only thing that remained and everything Aziza was would simply disappear.

  “No, Aziza,” West answered as if he could hear her thoughts. “You aren’t trapped. The Mayet already told you she isn’t destroying you. She’s a part of you. What you want, she wants. Your nightmares don’t come from her. They come from your fear. Fear that you won’t be able to handle what’s to come. That you aren’t good enough to be loved. That you aren’t strong enough to save all those people calling your name. Your fear is holding back her truth. A feather can fly, carried by a soft wind, but it’s torn apart in a storm.”

  Aziza was the center of the storm.

  So this was all her? The bodies? The sandstorms? Her endless nightmares? She knew the sand held a darkness. She could feel it. It wasn’t just her fear.

  “You have that in common, Aziza Jane. She was born in darkness and her fury was unappeasable. For a time, that was all the she was. Righteous rage and knowledge. It was the knowledge that saved her. Shaped her. And she used it to save us all. That’s what is inside you. A gift of knowledge so that you can follow in her footsteps. You are the one, Aziza. She chooses you. Not because of your family or because you were the last available Ammu. You were always the only choice. Your soul. Call upon Mayet’s Truth now. Here. Can you feel what I’m saying is right?”

  She called, allowing her mind to clear and her body to still in its struggle with the sand. She let go of everything. Everyone. Brandon. Ram. Greg, Chiye and Penn. Even West. In that moment she heard the voice. The whisper of the wind.

  “Show me,” she whispered back.

  In an instant, her brother Adam was standing beside her and smiling, his old-fashioned, clunky camera in his hands. “Hey, sis, you like puzzles, right? One last mystery for you from me.”

  It is your destiny to find his portion as well. To accept my gift.

  “Why are they so afraid of me taking more than my share? What could happen?”

  See what you can do. Her head was filled with images. The sky shimmered all around her. In one direction she saw Qaf, mountains of emerald glittering beneath an orange sun, and she knew those mountains circled the world and were filled with vibrant life. In another, the floating cities of Niyr sparkling under the light of a white star, each one built around a large pool of what looked like liquid silver. She could go there, she knew. To both or neither. She could watch them and walk among them. Stroll the loud, colorful markets of Qaf and visit the pale, reflective lakes where the first introspective Niyr learned to focus their minds.

  She could see beyond their world to the others.

  Aziza saw. Beyond the Jinn and Niyr, there was more. So much more. More worlds. More life. And in between those worlds there were currents she could travel along, the ones Shev had mentioned. Nothing would be closed to her. Nothing could be hidden from her. No one could stop her…but she could stop them.

  She understood that it wasn’t just three worlds she was trying to save, but all of them. Everything was connected. If she misused her abilities or failed, the ripples would spread until every dimension, every universe was lost.

  Salvation or annihilation.

  Dern was right. It was more power than any one person should ever have.

  A woman bathed in fire appeared in the desert, a few steps from Aziza. The Mayet in human form. “It is too much power.” Her voice was more than the wind through the reeds now, but Aziza recognized it. “Which is why you must be the only one to possess it. The Mayet shapes the sand but no one knows how the sand will shape the Fireborne. No one but you. Your heart will shape us both. Do not let them use it against you. Do not let them take the power away from you. Do not trade it to save a single life. The gift and the sacrifice are yours alone. In another’s hands, it means the end.”

  She nodded, though she wasn’t sure she understood. “Why do the Jiniyr want to break the treaty? What is Razia trying to retrieve?”

  The Mayet moved closer. “You were told. It is not what, but who. When the Fireborne and keeper were created, when the treaty was sealed with blood, a greater sacrifice was required to ensure the Niyr and Jinn would keep their vows of peace and leave this world undamaged.”

  “Who was sacrificed?”

  “Two. One from each side. A commander of great power and charisma. A legend among the Jinn, known for both excessive violence and abundant generosity. They call her mother. And a brilliant and compassionate scholar who volunteered for the sake of humanity, disregarding the Niyr’s thirst for cold, logical conquest. Some have forgotten, but many still whisper his name.”

  The Whispers? Jibril? The two sacrifices were Jibril and the mother of the Jinn? Were they killed?

  “Their sacrifice is eternal. In a way, they cannot die. They are here, treasures hidden from their people. The mind and the soul. The Jiniyr believe the broken treaty will reveal their location. That if the Fireborne can be corrupted, or chooses a side other than humanity’s, they will win. But some want more than the end of the treaty. Some want simply to destroy.”

  Aziza was dizzy, nauseated. “What’s happening?”

  West’s voice told her he was right beside her. “It’s wearing off. I didn’t use much. I wasn’t sure how it would affect the others.” He pressed her hand firmly against his chest. “Aziza, do you feel my touch? Do you know where you are? Open your eyes.”

  “I’m here.”

  “What’s happening?” Greg’s voice was garbled and hard to understand.

  West laughed when Aziza looked around to find the coffee table in its original spot and Chiye’s head resting against Greg’s knee where they’d both been sitting, fully clothed, the entire time. “It’s all good, Gregory. You drank too much and fell asleep on the couch.”

  Ram got to his feet and crossed his arms suspiciously. “I don’t remember drinking a damn thing.”

  West winked at Aziza. “I think I should brew some coffee. Our friends obviously can’t handle my tequila cocktails.”

  He moved to stand and she gripped his arm. “Was that the truth? Was it real?” Or had she been dreaming like everyone else?

  “What do you think, Aziza Jane? In the end, that’s really all that matters.”

  Chapter Twelve

  “You have to let me say it.”

  Aziza rolled her eyes. “Fine. Say it.”

  Greg smiled as he helped her into the Alpha’s luxurious limo and climbed in beside her. “You are one smoking-hot Fireborne.”

  Aziza looked him over. “Thank you, Mr. Prophet. Do you feel better now? You’re looking pretty amazing yourself.”

  It had seemed so strange, getting dressed up like this. Going to a party as if things were normal. As if she hadn’t just alienated the werewolves or absconded with their suspect…as if the fates of three worlds didn’t hinge on what she did next.

&
nbsp; What she’d seen under the influence of West’s incense made it feel like everything had changed, yet nothing had. She’d talked to him about it, but he’d stopped her from telling him everything. The Mayet’s words, he’d said, were for the Fireborne alone. He hadn’t seen what she had. But the experience had connected them somehow. The sand was in her blood and under his skin, and so they shared a bond she didn’t have with anyone else. He understood, in a way no Jinn or human—other than Dern—could.

  She wanted to be home, reading the books Dern had given her, but she had to come tonight. Not just to see Brandon or appease the Alpha. She had to show them she was in the right. That she wasn’t afraid. From what she’d seen, werewolves appreciated a show of strength.

  Greg reached up to stretch out the starched collar of his dress shirt. “Are you sure we should be going to this thing? What if they arrest us as soon as we come through the door?”

  “They won’t. The Alpha would wait until his guests left. I’m the Vessel, remember?”

  “Fireborne, may I talk to you a moment?”

  Sighing, Aziza leaned forward to look around Greg. Then her eyes widened. “Te, what are you doing here, and, holy shit, what are you wearing?”

  The Niyr was still in the same form she’d been in the last time Aziza saw her, although there did seem to have been a few inches taken from her waist and added to her breasts.

  Her platinum hair was different as well. Loose and falling in silken waves down her back, laying like satin on her bare shoulders. She was wearing a strapless, shimmering gown that clung to her curves down to her waistline and then flowed out like liquid silver to the floor of the limo.

  Her Qarin looked like Cinderella. “Wow.”

  Greg’s mouth was open. “Wow is right. Te, you’re a goddess. An angel. I’m speechless.”

  Te shrugged with a nonchalance Aziza knew damn well she didn’t feel. “I saw you dressing for the Fireborne’s debut and I didn’t want you to feel awkward when I arrived.”

  “How could we not feel awkward?” Greg asked, looking bemused. “You outshine us all, Te. Hillary and Penn are in the limo behind us, but if they could see you I know they’d agree.”

  Aziza had a gut feeling that she needed to intervene before Te misunderstood his habitual, meaningless flirting for something more. “Greg, babe? I think she came to talk to me. So wipe the drool off your chin and get in a comfortable position.”

  Greg frowned. “What? Why?” Then his eyes widened. “Oh! Aziza, you—”

  Stop.

  When he froze, she reached around him and touched the Niyr.

  “Te, what the hell?” Aziza pointed at her Cinderella outfit. “What. The. Hell? You know they won’t let you in, right? You cannot come to the ball.”

  Te shrugged again, absently touching the silk of her gown. “I told you. I watched you dressing. I thought the experience might be educational.”

  Aziza crossed her arms. “You thought Greg might like it. You thought it might finally make him forget that when we first met, you looked like a creepy little boy vampire who could suck out his brains.”

  Te pursed her lips. “The Whispers have heard rumors that are making them nervous.”

  She was obviously changing the subject, but Aziza couldn’t afford to call her on it at the moment. “What rumors?”

  “The Jiniyr almost have something they shouldn’t. Something they must never have. They believe that one among their number is an unspeakable who drove himself mad to see a glimpse of the future and learned enough to guide them in the right direction. They also believe a high-ranking Jinn is helping them get what they need.”

  Aziza sighed. “What scares me the most is that what you’re saying makes sense. Except for the ‘unspeakable’ thing. There’s a book about Jinn blood rituals that isn’t supposed to exist, and something about soul casting that I’m guessing you know nothing about.”

  Te flinched. The strongest reaction she’d ever seen her Qarin reveal. “Soul casting? Is that what they’ve been doing to those women?”

  Aziza reached over Greg to pat her arm gently. “I think the less you know about it, the better, don’t you?” When Te nodded, Aziza continued, “I appreciate the information, but as you’re more than aware, I have a party to attend, a relationship to salvage or destroy and an oily Alpha to take down a peg or two. Either that or I’ll be arrested by the them police. It’s not a party if you’re not playing Russian roulette, right?”

  “Does he love her?”

  That question stopped Aziza in her tracks. “What?”

  Te looked down as if braced for a blow. “Does he?”

  Chiye. She was talking about Greg and Chiye. “They just met, Te. But I have to be honest, I’ve never seen him like this. I know he’s closer than I can remember him ever being before.” She spoke as carefully as she could. “You’d like her. I like her. She makes him happy, I think.”

  “She doesn’t know who he is.” There was no emotion in Te’s voice, but Aziza could feel it. Pain. Hurt. Confusion mixed with jealousy. “And she makes him happy because she reminds him of you.”

  “She’s better than I am, Te.” Aziza laughed softly, thinking of Ram’s words again. “Less fatalistic. And she sees him the way he’s always wanted to be seen. She thinks he hung the fucking moon. And she’s nowhere near as damaged as I am, despite what she’s been through.”

  “I think you’re wrong about her. She is damaged. And she’s distracted Gregory Prophet from his path.”

  “What exactly is his path, Te?” Aziza sighed in frustration. “Can’t it just be success and marriage and tons of babies? Can’t he be left out of this great destiny bullshit?”

  Te tilted her head. “You still think his presence is a coincidence. Because he’s human? Your line was human before the sand changed it. Why do you think it chose a human to be justice?”

  “I think she chose a human because it affected our race the most—what happened during the war, the treaty. The reason she came to be in the first place.”

  “When our minds touched, Gregory saw the Whispers and I saw…something inside him. Something he was just beginning to feel. To know.”

  Aziza moved closer, listening intently. “What did you see?”

  “We believe it…she chose a human because she agreed with Jibril, that man had the potential to be the superior being. More empathy than the Niyr, more control than the Jinn. The potential, if they could overcome their violent tendencies, for true balance.”

  She knew when Te said “we” she meant the Whispers. Who were they really? Were they like the Jiniyr? No. She didn’t believe that. Jibril had apparently given his life voluntarily to forge a peace. It was admirable. She wished she knew more about him.

  The Whispers did have a problem with their sources, but Aziza didn’t think this was the right time to tell her. Right now she wanted to know more about what Te saw in her best friend. “He’s necessary. I get it. I agree, but I don’t think for the same reason. I’m not sure what you expect me to do. Should I tell him to stop seeing Chiye? To spend more time with you? Just tell me what you think I should do.”

  “You would never do it.” Te gave her the impression it was already something she’d thought about. “I just thought you should know. Gregory needs to be with you when it matters. He needs to be at your side so he can see it all unfold. Don’t push him away to protect him.”

  “You should really know me better than that by now, Te.” Aziza’s words were soft but determined. “I’d do anything to protect Greg. Even if that means pushing him away.”

  “That is what they are all afraid of, Fireborne. Your emotions. You let your heart make your choices.”

  Aziza looked down at her hand and focused on making the mark fade. “You should go, Cinderella. Mama has to party. Time to burn down the house.”

  She slipped her arm through Greg’s as they started up the candlelit walk toward the ridiculously intimidating “home” of Brandon’s father. The Alpha. She hadn’t known the
party was being held in a minicastle. All that was missing was the moat.

  “Oh yes. This should be fun.”

  “Do you think he invited the Queen?” Greg whispered as they neared the flag-lined entrance. “If a marching band playing ‘God Save the Queen’ appears at the door, I’m going to be in vulgar American heaven. I’ve always wanted to meet her.”

  “I don’t think the werewolves would invite the queen to my party. This time. I heard they were too worried I’d accidentally set her hat on fire.”

  “Really?”

  She smirked. “Not really. God, you’re not this gullible.”

  As they stepped over the threshold, they nearly walked into the wall that was Brandon’s broad-shouldered uncle.

  “There she is. The guest of honor.” Devil smiled kindly and took her hand, bending to kiss it, while lowering his voice. “My brother has managed to keep Natalie quiet. I don’t think he wanted his lieutenants to see the Vessel taken away in chains. Be careful, Aziza.”

  Penn came up behind them, Hillary at her side, and grinned at him. “Look at you, Devil. You should dress more often, you clean up well.”

  “I think you’re right.” Devil winked. “The Russian Alpha’s daughter is eyeing me like a Christmas roast.”

  Rolling her eyes subtly, Hillary said, “Be careful, cousin—that she-wolf has been taking her training in diplomatic relations too far, from what I’ve heard.”

  Aziza bit her lip to keep from laughing. “I thought you two were supposed to help me make a good impression.”

  “You don’t need any help, Aziza.” Brandon’s voice made Devil turn and move out of the way, giving her the first view she’d had of him since Underbridge.

  Aziza watched Brandon move toward her slowly, taking in his larger-than-life frame encased in a crisp tuxedo, his hair tamed and beard newly trimmed. His gaze was enigmatic, but she could feel the heat coming off of him. God, what he did to her.