Visions of Fire and Ice (The Petiri)

by Teresa D'Amario

  “You know very well that is not what I meant.” Just because he lived in a primarily Muslim nation didn’t mean he believed women were stupid. “It’s not like you could learn this from the average teacher. And not once have you said you are interested in languages. I don’t know much about you, Tamara, but what you just did shouldn’t have been possible.”

  “I see.” She ripped off her waist pack she’d worn all morning and tossed it on the bed. “It’s okay for you to study ancient languages, but not me.”

  Ramose gripped the chair by the window, struggling for control. Something was wrong. Every time he was near her, his own talents tried to escape his control. He wanted to either wrap her in his arms and bury his face in her hair, or turn her over his knee. In two days, she’d shredded the one thing his people counted on.

  “So, you studied ancient languages? Tell me, when?” The question was more a demand, and he knew it, but he couldn’t stop the words from tumbling out of his mouth no matter how hard he tried. “And while you’re at it, why not tell me how you heard the telepathy between Jakkaar and myself?’

  “I didn’t hear it.” The admission looked like it pained her. As though she wished she had.

  “But you knew what was happening?”

  She nodded. “The same way I knew Amunkha was planning to hurt you.” Her voice was sharper than he’d heard it before, and he knew she sensed the surge of power in the room as well. His power and hers. His body vibrated, and, try as he might, he couldn’t seem to stop it.

  “And how was that?”

  She shrugged, but he could see the fire burning in her eyes. “Because my family has some telepathy skills. And why is this any of your business, anyway?” Tiny flames burst to life in the candles she’d displayed around the room. “It’s not like I was eavesdropping on purpose. If you didn’t want me to listen, you should have just kept it in telepathy.”

  Another surge of power rushed through Ramose’s body, and the mirror behind the dresser cracked.

  “What about you, Ramose? How is it you are able to talk to your driver without opening your mouth?”

  He frowned and took a deep breath, struggling to get control where none existed. “And how did you understand what I said aloud? I demand an answer, Tamara, who are you?”

  Tamara let out an exasperated sigh, her hands flailing in frustration. “Demand away. The answer isn’t going to change. I’m me, Ramose. Just me. Don’t stand here in my hotel room and treat me like I’m some sort of criminal. If you want answers to questions, you have to answer mine.”

  Ramose stared at those beautiful eyes again, mesmerized by the flames within. Then let his gaze drop to her mouth. Even in anger, it seemed set in the most beautiful shape. The ice in his body ramped up, rushing through his veins as though readying for something. Just what he wasn’t sure.

  “I’m waiting.” Her voice lowered, husky and erotic.

  The ice chilled to a burn, and he knew a new ache. A new hunger he’d never experienced before.

  “You first. You are the one here, in my country, adopted it may be. You are the one listening in on conversations not meant for your ears.” He finally shoved the chair away, unable to bear the idea of anything between them.

  “Fine.” She released the clasp at her waist and tossed her old fanny pack across to the bed. It landed in the center. “You really want to know? I dream in that language. I had no idea what it was until you told me.”

  That got his attention. He jerked his gaze back to meet her eyes. “What kind of dreams?”

  She shrugged. “That part’s private. Just know I dream of ancient times and that’s what brought me to Egypt, to see if I could figure out why.” Turning to face him, she took a deep breath and released it. “Your turn.”

  He moved toward her. “You dream in ancient Egyptian? That’s not possible.”

  She didn’t step back, and they stood just inches apart. Her heat reached for him, and he could swear steam sizzled along his skin.

  “How the hell would you know? You don’t know a damned thing about me, Ramose. You attach yourself to me while I’m on vacation, and you have yet to ask me a single personal question. Everything you talk about or even look at is this damned arm bracelet.”

  Anger simmered beneath the surface of her eyes, and the flames burned brighter on the candles surrounding the room. Power flitted between them. Soft wax dripped upon the dresser and down the television screen beside her. She ignored it.

  “What are you?” he demanded.

  “What am I?” A hot breeze filled the room. “I’m a woman from North Carolina. The daughter of parents who are dead. The sister to three sisters and one brother. That’s who I am.”

  “You know what I’m talking about, Tamara. Explain the dreams.”

  “I will not,” she gritted out through clenched teeth. “It’s none of your business. Besides,” she motioned toward the dresser, “you’re the one who broke the mirror. So maybe I should be asking you all these same questions. Who are you, Ramose? Why are you so determined to push yourself into my life? Why are you so demanding of personal information?”

  “Because I am a protector, Tamara,” he ground out. “You are dangerous. You know things about my species you shouldn’t know.” Now he’d done it. He’d slipped for sure. To distract her, he motioned toward the candles. “Do you think I don’t see the fire around you? That I don’t feel the heat burning from your body? You’re dangerous, and I must protect those I care for.”

  Tamara gaped at him. “I see.” She glanced at the melting candles. “Yeah, I guess it’s a bit obvious that I have talents. And if I’m so damned dangerous,” she retorted, “then it’s time for you to leave.” She stormed to the door, her hand on the lever, but didn’t open it. Heat rippled between them.

  The Napshua glittered at him from her arm, as though warning him to shut up while he was ahead. Great. Even the damned asp knew he needed to be quiet. She took a few deep breaths as though trying to gain her control.

  The motion of the rise and fall of her soft breasts caught his gaze, and he couldn’t seem to pull away.

  “Leave, Ramose.”

  The mirror shattered, and she jumped. By the gods, he’d lost control again. Fear rippled in her eyes, and Ramose cursed aloud. “I’m not leaving. We need to finish this discussion.”

  “I see.” She stared at him, as though withdrawing inside herself. He could no longer read her emotions. Yet heat continued to rise in the room. His blood ran cold in his veins, and he fought the urge to respond in kind.

  Another candlewick flickered to life. Whatever was happening between them, her power was definitely the strongest. Or should he say, the most out of control.

  This time, she yanked open the door. “Now, Ramose. Before things get any uglier.”

  They glared at one another for long seconds. At last, he moved, but he didn’t leave. He wasn’t going anywhere until he knew who and what she really was. So he settled himself in the chair. Maybe she would soften then. Maybe her passion would burn less bright. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  She closed the door with deliberate care. Her hands trembled on the lever. “So be it.” She stepped into the bathroom and closed the door with a light click.

  Ramose stared at the empty space for all of two seconds before he leapt to his feet. She was not avoiding this. Whoever or whatever she was, he would know before he left this hotel room. Even as he stormed toward the bathroom door, he knew he was wrong, but he couldn’t stop himself. For the first time in his life, he worked entirely on instinct. Sure, he understood instincts and paid attention to them, but his reactions were always tempered with his mind.

  Inside, emotions fought a battle he couldn’t seem to control. The desire to protect those he knew and loved, fighting the desire to know everything about this woman, and not because he thought her a threat. Just knowing she kept secrets snapped that last strand of control he’d held for so long. He couldn’t grasp the reason it bothered him so much, and, while
he knew he should stop and think, he couldn’t. He stormed to the bathroom and knocked on the door. “Tamara, open this door. Right now.”

  “Go away,” came the muffled reply. Power vibrated against the door from within. Power his instincts demanded he understand.

  Frustrated and confused, he exploded through the door with a painful blast of telekinesis. Tamara stood shoeless, about to remove her blouse. Anger flared hot in her eyes. Heat blasted him like the desert’s habib, the hottest, wildest sandstorm in the Egyptian desert.

  “Get out!” she shouted, her voice shaking in her anger.

  “We are going to finish this,” he growled. “I told you I’m not leaving.” He glared at her through the milky tendrils of steam. She returned his glare, her eyes glittering blue and flecks of gold. A twinge of unease twitched through his mind. Something wasn’t right.

  He was acting like a spoiled child, a boy with no control over his emotions. Yet every time he thought about her hiding secrets from him, his mind exploded with something akin to pain. And every time he looked at her, the hunger in his soul intensified. He shook his head, unable to clear the intense arousal. He took a step toward her. “Talk to me,” he growled.

  Her sweet lips whispered a curse. If he hadn’t been so angry, he might have grabbed her and kissed her.

  She threw her hands over her face. “No,” she cried and whirled, hiding her face from him. Ramose stared in horror as the steam coalesced, sizzling over her body. Her shirt erupted into flames.

  Shocked into action, he lunged, wrapping his arms about her despite the burning flames. He moved faster than he had in centuries, jerking her body beneath the cold shower’s spray. Steam sizzled from her flesh and clothes, the room now so thick with it he could barely see. He jumped in behind her, fisting his fingers on either side of her shirt, ripping it apart, heedless of the buttons as they pinged against the tiles of the shower stall. He spun her around to examine the damage.

  There were no marks. No burns. Her skin wasn’t even pink.

  He turned her back to face him, stunned.

  “Are you finished?” she asked through clenched teeth.

  He simply nodded. His hands still rested on her shoulders, unable to release her. It had been a long time since he’d seen someone control fire like this. To burn everything around her, and the flames not damage the person’s flesh. And that someone wasn’t human.

  “I don’t burn myself. It doesn’t work like that. I was safe. You, on the other hand, were not.”

  Ramose stared in shock at the beautiful, creamy flesh now exposed to his sight. There wasn’t a sign of the heat. Nothing even red. Just the most beautiful back he’d ever seen. He swallowed convulsively, fighting the arousal and anger, now interlaced with relief. His voice didn’t want to work, but when it did, he was hoarse, his throat suffering from the internal emotional fight. “How often does this happen?”

  She shrugged, not looking at him. “Only when I get really pissed.” Her voice sounded more sure and under control with the shower pouring down on them. “I haven’t lost it like that in years. I’d say I’m sorry, but…”

  He turned her to face him. The cold water cascaded over her shoulders in rivulets. He suddenly thirsted to catch one as it trailed down her chest. He jerked his eyes back up again.

  A tremor ran through her body. He had a suspicion it wasn’t caused by the cold. She straightened in the water, steel in her spine. “I don’t think you’ll have any problem leaving now, will you?”

  For a moment, Ramose stared into those beautiful, multi-colored eyes. Her words cut him to the quick. Despite her bravado, he sensed she didn’t want him to leave. Maybe even feared he would. She held an awesome, yet deadly power in that small body of hers. Human or not, she would have suffered pain and embarrassment had she lost control like this in front of others.

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  Standing this close, he wanted to touch her, to reassure her. In his experience with humans, their sensitivity when confronted with the unexplained brought on tears or fear. Yet she was all fire and anger, mixed in with the softness and beauty. The delicate scent of lilies teased his senses, the steam layering her scent across his skin. He backed away before he did something he shouldn’t. Like kiss her.

  “It’s rather obvious you can do more than see auras. And fire is your primary talent.” The water beat down upon them. “I have to confess,” he gave her a crooked grin, “I heard what you told your cousin about the man last night. I saw the marks on his face, so even when the candles began melting, I was not surprised by your gift. Only it’s strength.” He kept his voice soft and as soothing as possible. Her anger seemed back under control, but he wasn’t about to test her further while in a building that could burn to the ground. He still didn’t know what she was, but if she’d meant him harm, she could have sent a ball of fire in his direction with ease. She didn’t know he could put it out in an instant.

  She looked so young, so innocent. Her face was so pale he wondered if she was in shock. “I bet you can guess that telekinesis is one of mine, though the least controlled.” Ramose gave in. He had to touch her. He let his fingers trail down her face. He stepped closer then tipped her chin to force her to look into his eyes. “I think now that some of our secrets are out, we can talk with a bit more civility?”

  He felt, more than heard, her forced laugh.

  “Maybe. But I’m not making any promises.” Her lips curved in a soft, delicate smile.

  The ache to kiss her pushed away the need to discover all but the secret of her taste, and that was one secret he didn’t need to know. There was a real chance her fire could destroy the ice he held inside, and, if she did, he would be mostly powerless. Besides, he would not fall again for the sweetness of honey when he knew down inside a human female would never understand what he was. Not even this one.

  “We should get out of here,” he said, “before you get sick in this cold water.” No sooner were the words spoken than the water heated as it slid over his skin.

  “That’s not a problem.” She chuckled. “But I think it’s time you told me a bit more about you.”

  He nodded, and grinned. By the gods, if he didn’t get some distance between them soon, he’d lay his lips against hers, all good intentions be damned. “And I would like to learn more of you.”

  * * * *

  For the first time, Tamara believed he was telling her the truth. He would like to learn more about her. That was something she’d never experienced before. Every other male in her existence had run as fast as they could when they saw her as much as light a candle afire, much less herself. Then again, it was possible his curiosity was more of the fact he considered her dangerous. Tamara extricated herself from him, sighing as the sensual coolness from his body left hers. He’d wanted to kiss her. She could see it in his eyes, the soft, surprised hunger. And she’d wanted it. Every muscle inside her craved his touch, knowing she’d melt as easily as her candles. Even now, she battled the urge to pull his head down, to feel his lips and mouth devouring hers. Those damned dreams made life difficult. They made her want him with a power she’d never expected. No matter how many times she tried to remind herself he wasn’t the same man, something deep inside her refused to believe it. It didn’t seem to matter that he was busy trying to learn her secrets and not share any of his own.

  “I think perhaps we both should get out of this shower.” She pushed against his chest, and he stepped back. He nodded and turned the knob on the wall and the curtain of water ceased.

  Tamara stepped out, grabbing a towel from the rack. “By the way, you didn’t have to drag me into the shower. You put the fire out the second you touched me.”

  His eyebrows rose, puzzled. “I did?” Then his face cleared. “Ahh, yes, I understand.”

  “You do? I wish I could say the same thing.”

  “I will show you later. After…” He glanced at his wet clothes.

  “I can take care of that,” she said with a laugh.
“The nice thing about controlling heat and fire, I guess.”

  The smirk on his face belied the humor in his eyes. “You won’t set fire to them because you are angry, will you?”

  “I really should, but, no.” She threw the towel at him and grabbed another from the rack then stepped out of the tub and drew the shower curtain between them.

  “Stay in there while I dry off.”

  A soft chuckle sounded behind the curtain. Shaking her head, she stripped off what remained of her wet clothes and then briskly toweled dry. Thank heaven she’d worn a sexy looking bra. But not too sexy. It covered her parts in all the right places and, even wet, hadn’t shown much more than a bikini. But she’d have died if he saw her in one of her granny bras.

  She heard him moving in the shower, and he tossed his trousers over the rod. Blocking her mind to what she would see if she snuck a peek, she left the bathroom and quickly dressed, knowing he wasn’t far behind.

  She didn’t have long to contemplate the attraction she’d seen in his eyes when he tapped on the door and then walked out of the bathroom. Her breath froze in her lungs, and the dryness in her throat drew a convulsive swallow.

  He’d wrapped the hotel towel around his waist, its white softness accenting his hard, tanned body. Everthing about the powerful, defined muscles was a delight. He dragged fingers through his wet hair. The ends dripped with moisture, hanging in soft curls at his neck. He gave her a sheepish smile. “I left my clothes in the bathroom.”

  Tamara nodded, her gaze still glued to the gleaming muscles and washboard stomach. Nothing had prepared her for this. Not even her dreams. Her imagination had conjured many images of him over the years, picturing him naked, and none came close to what stood before her. She cleared her throat. “I’ll take care of them now.” Because if she didn’t escape, she was going to show just how weak a female she was.

  “No, wait,” he said. “Let’s talk.” He motioned for her to sit on the couch across from the bed while he sat in the hard wooden chair at the tiny round table.

  Caught, Tamara sat on the edge, rubbing her hands on her jeans to hide the sudden sweaty nervousness brought on by his state of undress.