Firebinders: Marek (The Firebinders Book 1)

by Isobelle Cate

  Marek rubbed his chest at the leaden ache that resided there remembering how he had kept his anguish under lock and key while Lia bawled her eyes out. He promised himself that he would grieve later but that time never came. He was the man of the house now, the breadwinner of a family of two. He poured his grief into building up their financial reserves, adding to what his parents had left them. Becoming an oil firefighter had seen to that. The only time he allowed himself to relax was when he was inside a woman’s pussy. A temporary relief that made him antsy after a couple of days. With Gwen…

  Marek inhaled long and hard before he slowly exhaled. His eyes narrowed at the bolted gate at the far end of the courtyard.

  Gwen was different. Tasting her should have been enough but every time he thought of her, every time he was away from her, he kept wanting to come back. His groin tightened almost every time she was near yet for the first time in his life as much as he wanted to fuck her hard until she screamed the house down, he also wanted to just hold her, simply take her in his arms and shield her from the dangers of his world. Let her wrap herself around him as they slept and when they woke he’d make sweet love to her.

  He turned to look at her window and the dull ache in his chest intensified. The low light coming from the bedside lamp glowed against the window before it was extinguished. He was suddenly unsure of the words he wanted to say so he fucked it up. God, how he fucked up and he wanted her in his bed. Wanted to explore every inch of that soft skin, taste every part of her body to keep him going for a while before he took her again, taking her to the heights of pleasure where he’d be waiting until they exploded in their joint kaleidoscope.

  And he fucking blew it.

  A vein ticked at his temple. A soft wind tickled the bougainvillea branches moving them stiffly. He grimaced. He was not good at these things. Marek shook his head. There was still tomorrow and he’d use the rest of the evening to think of something. He gave a cynical snort as he rubbed the back of his neck. He had never been bad at anything and it had riled both Hank and Rogue to no end. But now, if they knew that he finally was not good at something, they’d be laughing their heads off.

  It wasn’t something Marek wanted them to know.

  The following days were a flurry of activity in Marek’s house. Every morning, Gwen went straight to work after eating the breakfast Marek cooked for her. Blueberry cornmeal pancakes with either coffee or orange juice one day, grits the next. She asked for southern hospitality, she got mouth-watering breakfasts. She had to admit, Marek’s cooking was delicious unlike her attempts when she relied on microwave dinners and even burned spaghetti noodles one time because she had been engrossed in typing her notes.

  Marek barely said a word to her. Their conversations were stilted like ones where two strangers are forced into circumstances beyond their control. To ease the hollowness inside her chest, Gwen sometimes stared into space. Marek didn’t bring up what had happened that night. Neither did she. He stayed out of the house only returning at night when she had already gone to bed. More often than not, he was with Hank and Rogue. Not one word passed between them. If it did, it was only when people were around them. The more Marek avoided her, the more Gwen believed that staying in his house had been a bad idea. Her window of opportunity to stay with Faith and Zac disappeared when Zac told her that there were a few Cynn mortals staying with them from out of town.

  Lia came home more frequently while she was on vacation from university, oftentimes keeping her company before excusing herself to meet up with her friend, Veronica.

  Zac and Faith were Gwen’s constant companions. Both had been quiet when she extracted blood from Faith. Lia and Rogue had already given their samples previously.

  Gwen had to let the bloods she collected to clot for half an hour or so and gently invert it before putting it into the centrifuge. Zac assisted her with the rest of the blood samples while Faith watched. Gwen was pleased at the processed samples because they were similar to what she had been working on at Sebastian Pharma. However, when she analysed, Faith’s blood, she got a different result.

  In the end, she abandoned even trying to scientifically explain the presence of vampires, werewolves, and firebinders. Faith told her about how she had saved Zac when he nearly died and the reason for his raspy voice and the deep scar across his neck. She was beginning to accept the parallel world that existed side by side with the world she knew. Once Zac and Faith left, Gwen called it a day. The information overload she received was causing a headache to rumble from the back of her mind. Sleep was what she needed to keep it at bay.

  The night closed around her without her seeing Marek.

  The next day was the same as the last. Marek served her breakfast before leaving. It was becoming an uncomfortable situation. Her only saving grace was knowing that she’d be able to hitch a ride with Zac and Faith. At least in their plane, her heart or her body wouldn’t be under any threat. She now believed that Marek didn’t want to see her. If that was the case, why not stay in his apartment in town? She just didn’t get it.

  She was looking at the samples under the powerful microscope and was in the middle of typing her notes when Faith arrived. It was two days before New Year’s Eve and they were planning on celebrating in the Cynn Cruors’ house. Gwen just wanted to get more work done before she allowed herself to relax. Marek would also be at the party but it would be easier for her to avoid him there when Cynn mortals and immortals were going to be there. It would be as good a time as any to immerse herself in this parallel world.

  “Hey.” Gwen smiled. “Zac is in the courtyard enjoying the sun.”

  Faith grinned. “That’s good. God knows we hardly get any in Manchester.”

  “Something I miss from living in the UK.” Gwen chuckled, her eyes darting over the laptop screen before saving her work. She inhaled deeply, something freshly baked tickling her nose. “That smells good!”

  “Freshly made scones.” Faith winked as she raised the basket she was carrying aloft. “With clotted cream. Sorry no strawberries.”

  Gwen laughed. “You had me at scones.” Her mouth watered. She stood from the dining table to join Faith in the kitchen. Opening the overhead cupboard, she took out plates and cutlery they’d need.

  “So how’s everything with you and Marek?” Faith glanced at her as she opened the cloth that covered the freshly baked goods.

  Gwen faltered as heat rushed to her face. She carefully set the plates on the counter.

  “Fine.”

  “Fine?” Faith peered at her. “Is that why he can’t stop staring at you and you look like your world crumbles to pieces whenever he leaves?”

  “Faith—”

  “Sorry, none of my business.” Faith had the grace to redden. She continued unloading the basket.

  Gwen touched her arm and sighed. “No, it’s okay. It’s just…he’s hardly here. He’s probably regretting saving me in Austin and asking me to stay in his home.”

  “No, I don’t believe that.” Faith shook her head while she set the scones on the plate. “He’s a firebinder and if he’s like me, his word is his oath. Besides, I think he likes you more than he thinks he should. I mean every time he sees you with Rogue, I can see steam coming out of his ears.”

  Gwen laughed in genuine amusement as she pictured Marek. “Right.”

  Faith joined her in laughter then sobered. “I’m serious, Gwen. Marek is into you.”

  Gwen sighed, turning around to lean against the counter. She looked down at her feet.

  “I’m afraid, Faith. I don’t want to get hurt. Whatever this thing between Marek and me is, this will all end when I finally return home.”

  Faith’s mouth quirked. “Perhaps, but I wouldn’t be too sure. Now go and relax. I’ll take care of things here. Can you just let Zac know I’m here?”

  “No need.” Zac ambled into the kitchen his eyes roaming over his mate’s body appreciatively. “I don’t even need our mental link to know you’re here.”

  Gwe
n excused herself smiling but the moment she reached the dining room, her smile waned. What Faith said couldn’t possibly be true. Her friend must be a romantic and gathering from the way Zac looked at her, as though she was the most beautiful woman on earth, Gwen wasn’t surprised. An acute longing filled her that she had to hold on to the back of the chair to keep standing. She closed her eyes, her hand on her stomach and waited for the pain to pass. She didn’t think loneliness could hurt so badly. She blinked away the moisture from her eyes refusing to enter a pity party for one.

  She walked on wooden legs to the living room, taking her laptop with her. Her muscles soon relaxed as acceptance settled into her bones. Sitting comfortably on the soft plush couch, she continued reading and amending her notes. Out of habit, she typed in the website of the local newspaper to check on what was happening in Austin. Former Formula 1 Race car driver, Jarred Levinson, was hosting another cancer benefit dinner together with his former teammates from MacLaren. The proceeds were going to a local cancer charity for children with non-Hodgkin lymphoma. Gwen smiled. If she could find something in the blood she was testing that could treat such a disease, more children could live.

  She continued her perusal of the rest of the headlines and froze.

  Sebastian Pharma scientists found dead.

  Her vision blurred as her mouth dried and her heart thundered. She could feel the blood drain from her face as she continued reading, her brain fixed on ‘garrotted that nearly severed the heads’ and that the bodies had been found a mile apart in the outskirts of Austin. The breakfast she had earlier and the mugs of coffee threatened to decorate the couch like the afghan throw on the couch’s backrest never would. Then she read the names.

  “Oh my God…” Her breath hitched in shock. She began to hyperventilate as she looked up. She trembled. Ice filled her veins. Her throat suddenly constricted making it difficult to breathe. She couldn’t hold it any longer. Her laptop crashed against the coffee table before hitting the floor when she stood. She nearly ploughed into a surprised Faith before she spilled the contents of her stomach into the sink.

  Opals was quiet except for the three men inside. Soft lights illuminated the bar counter from above as though it was in the middle of a stage. One of the men had taken over bartending duties replenishing the glasses of the two other men who sat on the bar stools. A bottle of Jack sat in the centre of the three glasses beside a bowl of peanuts. The chairs around them were upside down on the tables, the booths with leather seats empty and smelling faintly of leather polish. Muffled voices came from the kitchen as some of the staff inventoried stocks and accepted fresh produce.

  “Was that all you could find?” Marek hunched over his drink. Man, he was tired.

  Hank knocked back his drink before speaking. “That’s it. Sebastian Highmore, philanthropist playboy and elusive recluse. Has a mansion in Westlake in the outskirts of Austin complete with tower security and Rottweilers instead of ducks in his garden. When he’s done with a woman, he sets her up for life in wealth. No one’s talking though. They’re scared shitless of him.”

  “What else?” Rogue asked pouring himself another drink.

  “He owns several patents on drugs for cancer and malaria…oh and also got the contract for looking at a cure for ebola,” Hank said popping peanuts into his mouth. “The project Gwen was working on? It doesn’t exist.”

  “What do you mean it doesn’t exist?” Marek scowled darkly.

  “Just that, it doesn’t.” Hank shrugged. “My source says he knows Gwen left suddenly but that she was with the team looking into a cure for ebola by testing blood.”

  “Just because the project doesn’t exist doesn’t mean it’s not there.” Rogue mused, a frown creasing his forehead. “Cover maybe?”

  Hank shrugged. “I wouldn’t put it past the company. There were rumours before of corporate espionage but it couldn’t be proven.”

  “But why cover it?” Marek wracked his brains until he hit on something. His face cleared. “Unless Highmore had no intention of using the research to benefit anyone.”

  “Or maybe, his real reason was to hide in plain sight?” Hank ventured. “The only way he could procure a firebinder’s blood is either he has one in that fortress of his or he’s a firebinder himself.” When Rogue and Marek pinned him with their glares, he held up his hands. “Look, you tell me. What does your blood do? You heal right?”

  They kept silent.

  “But what if Highmore wants to use the blood and reverse engineer it? Instead of healing, he’s looking into using it as a potential carrier for a non-antidotal disease?”

  “A what?” Rogue stared at him in confusion. “Is that even a word?”

  “I made it up so sue me.”

  Rogue scowled. Hank exhaled and rolled his eyes.

  “A disease without an antidote,” he explained.

  Dread filled Marek as he felt his blood drain from his face and his heart fall to his feet. Had he been so obsessed with finding the rest of his kind that he refused to accept the the possibility that they were being killed by one of their own?

  “He’d cause a pandemic.” Rogue’s lips flattened.

  “If there’s a pandemic, and there’s no antidote, how will people heal?” Hank pushed.

  “He’d need the firebinder’s blood to siphon out the disease.”

  “So that leaves us with a conclusion,” Rogue said. “It’s possible that Highmore is creating a biological weapon. And since the firebinder is the cure…”

  “Whoever is a firebinder will come out of the woodwork.” Marek’s voice was wintry. “We will be exposed and become easy targets for the Shadow.”

  “Holy fuck.” Rogue dry rubbed his face before rubbing his neck. “Highmore must be working with the Shadow, Marek!”

  Marek’s face was grim. “Or he might be the Shadow himself.”

  The silence inside the closed club was thick save for the sudden clang of an aluminium tray falling to the kitchen’s floor.

  “Man, I’ve had enough. I don’t want to be dancing in the streets,” Hank said pushing his glass away from him. “You better go back and ask Gwen.”

  Marek’s glass stopped midway. “Ask her what? I’ve already asked her everything about what she was working on.”

  Rogue’s eyes crinkled, his mouth curving to a lopsided grin. He ate some of the peanuts. “I can talk to her if you don’t have the balls to do it.”

  Marek glowered at him. Jealousy at the camaraderie Gwen had with his friend lacerated his chest but what could he do? Gwen refused to speak to him even after he had made breakfast every morning as a peace offering.

  “Then talk to her, man.” Rogue raised his glass at him. “Instead of you wanting to burn a hole through my chest so you can fry my innocent beating heart.” He sliced a glance at Hank who chortled. “I don’t understand why it’s so hard to do.”

  “It’s not that easy.” Marek downed his drink. “Open up another Jack, Hank. Have another round.”

  “You and Rogue can burn the alcohol in your systems. I can’t.” Hank poured a little into the lid and threw the contents over his left shoulder. Then he poured hefty amounts of the honey amber liquid into their glasses. “So now that we know about Highmore, what’s our next move?”

  Marek’s lips stretched wide after slugging his glass’ contents.

  “Highmore’s attempt on Gwen’s life is still circumstantial at best. Are you able to check on the men who came after Gwen in Austin? There should be some footage that will help you.”

  “Already on it. It’ll probably take forty-eight hours for my source to identify them.” Hank pushed away from the bar counter. “I’ll call you when I have something.”

  Marek’s phone vibrated on the bar counter. Hank stopped while Rogue nursed his drink.

  “Lia, what’s up?”

  “You better come home,” she said in a worried tone. “It’s Gwen. Something’s happened.”

  ****

  Marek was out of Rogue’s vehicle ev
en before it came to a complete stop. Adrenalin filled his veins. Zac was in the dining room, his cell by his ear, indicating the guest room when Marek looked at him. Marek pulled a lungful of air, releasing it slowly before he turned the doorknob.

  His heart squeezed to the point of pain at seeing Gwen curled up on the bed. Soft light from the lamp framed her body. She was facing the window, away from him. Faith and his sister stood when they saw him.

  “What happened?” He couldn’t take his eyes off of Gwen’s shape. The Gwen he knew looked like all of the fight had left her.

  “Let’s go outside,” Faith said opening the door wider. “There’s something you need to see.”

  “I’ll stay with her.” Lia offered.

  Marek nodded his thanks. Taking one last look at Gwen, he followed Faith out. Hank and Rogue were reading something on Gwen’s laptop and they stepped away to allow Marek to see. Their faces were grim. Marek read the article and his brows drew together in an angry frown.

  “Digna Manson was the one who passed Gwen’s research as her own.”

  “And this Ken Nishihara?” Rogue asked drawing Ken’s surname slowly.

  “Never heard of him.” Marek shook his head.

  “I’ll check that out.” Hank wrote the name into his phone. He nodded and left.

  Marek plopped down on the nearest chair. His elbows rested on his thighs and his hands buried into his hair before locking them behind his neck. He ground his teeth in frustration. The threat to Gwen’s life loomed like a chasm in front of him. There was one thing he was sure of. The moment he met Sebastian Highmore, he was going to smash that bastard’s face in and Marek didn’t give a fuck if he was guilty or not. He was going to be judge, jury, and executioner already finding the philanthropist guilty based on the circumstantial evidence that kept piling up. If Highmore came after him for assault, Marek had a lot of connections with deep pockets who owed him more favours than he could count. Let the lawyers slug it out in court. That’ll keep Highmore preoccupied and hopefully bring his fucking empire down around his ears.