Into the Fire

by Victoria Smith

  A short time later, Luke stopped at the rear of a barely held-together motel and cut the engine. “Prepare yourself for luxury, sweetheart.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me. Seriously?” She wondered how many rats were inside.

  “Welcome to my life. Most of these older places are open for the network. According to the sector database, they’ve closed up shop, which means they can’t spend money on outside upkeep.” Luke got out of the car, grabbing her bag and his before tossing a black cover over the car.

  “How do you know what the sector databases say?” She hung back, already sure of the answer.

  “Mad skills. How do you think? Where do you think I get the safe food list? They’re convinced the media system is unhackable. They’re very wrong.” He laughed, turning toward the ramshackle building.

  A balding, thin man stuck his head out of the attached owner’s house and tossed him a key. Luke caught the dark green fob in one hand, saluting the man at the same time. Olivia wondered how many times Luke was forced to spend the night here, and then decided she didn’t care.

  “One room?”

  “Two would be suspicious.” Luke winked.

  “And two people in one isn’t? We’ll use twice the water and have a larger heat signature.” Was he kidding?

  “Ah, but this one is special. The owner’s managed to scrape together enough untraceable money to outfit this room with the alternate sources of water and electricity. And there’s a special ceiling that dissipates our heat signal. The patrol won’t be able to detect our life signs as anything but rodents. Of course, if the disease-carrying animal legislation is passed, we’ll have to figure something else out.”

  “Why would they do that? That’s a lot of money to spend on something that’s not really useful to them.” Oliva scanned the property.

  Luke unlocked the door and ushered her inside before turning on the light. “Matt and I saved his grandchildren—twins and a four-year-old. He feels like he owes us something and helping the resistance is how he pays it forward.”

  Olivia glanced at the dark ceiling. When the revolution started, many of the scientists working for Jenner went underground to continue perfecting the technology that was originally meant to hinder those with abilities. Now it aided them in avoiding detection.

  The room wasn’t as bad as she’d imagined, but was still pretty crappy. At least there were two beds, not that she thought her random fantasies of Luke would come true. That wave of forlorn pain broke over her again. She fought it, so she didn’t catch this temporary safe haven on fire. Hell, Luke would never forgive her if that happened.

  “At least it smells good in here. Pretty much everything is fire retardant. Except me.” He grinned, and the vision of them tangled in the sheets in the bed closest to the door filled her brain.

  Was he projecting his thoughts to her? There was no way. He disliked her on a level that defied logic, despite her perception of the interest behind his eyes and the vibes coming from him.

  “I wasn’t planning on catching anything on fire.” She groped around in her head to find something else to think about that would reduce her heart rhythm.

  “I know. I’m just saying. Since I’m usually here with someone whose powers are out of control, we tried to cover all the bases. Most of this stuff is bolted to the floor.” He toed the nightstand. “I woke up to flying furniture once. It’s an experience I never hope to repeat.” He shuddered, and she wondered if he was trying to lighten the moment.

  She sat on the bed, suddenly weary. “Am I more out of control than most?”

  “Actually no. You’re a little more disciplined. Maybe the partial dose of antidote helped. I take it you were trained?” He sat on the other bed and faced her.

  “Yeah. Lucky for me, my grandfather and aunt lived nearby. Apparently, I came out of the womb with the healing stuff. Everything except the firestarting showed up when I was two.” She wanted to laugh, but couldn’t. She’d seen the flash of anger in his expression when she’d mentioned firestarting.

  “What can you do?” Luke asked.

  “Healing and all the little things that go with it—empathy and detecting energies, and the firestarting. I have the usual amount you get via genetics. My dad insists I’m capable of more. Dan wanted me to be tested, but my parents talked him out of it because of my age. Abilities shouldn’t be forced. They should come naturally, like they always have.”

  “I agree. Firestarting is a latent anomaly, isn’t it?” Luke’s expression was neutral.

  “That started when I was seven. We were camping. Dad was having a hard time lighting the fire. Suddenly, the fire in my inner vision was the one my dad was leaning over.”

  “He must have loved that.” Luke appeared disgusted.

  “He lost his eyebrows, but he was pleased the ability had shown up. They’d hoped for it. My great-grandfather was a starter. My cousin, Franklin, turned out to be one as well. Gramps and my Aunt Jane tutored me, us, on control of the ability for what seemed like forever. Franklin was pretty good at it, too, but he lived in what’s now Midcentral, so I haven’t seen him since they closed the borders. I can only do one thing Gramps couldn’t, and that’s put out any fire I start. I can put out other fires, too, but not a huge house fire. I don’t get much of a chance to practice.”

  “So, you let me haul that damned fire extinguisher out when you could have put the grass fire out yourself?” Luke rolled his eyes.

  “I tried.” She held her hands up. “Out of control, remember? I’ve never tried anything like what I did with my house, though.”

  “Oh, about that. They’re saying you died in the fire, but your body hasn’t been recovered yet. They found enough of your DNA to assume you incinerated with the incredible heat. Plus, your car was still in the garage, so they figured you hadn’t set the fire and run away.”

  She nodded. “That’s good, right?”

  “It’s an unexpected bonus. I don’t understand how they found DNA, though.” Luke took off his jacket and tossed it on the bed closest to the door.

  Olivia couldn’t think with the way Luke’s white T-shirt hugged his chest. She took a deep breath, focusing on a dark, circular stain on the brown carpet. “All that means is they’re assuming I died. They had to say something.”

  “I guess.” He shrugged.

  “How do you know all of this anyway? You haven’t talked to anyone for ages.”

  “I have my sources.” He stood and went to the window. “Patrol coming.”

  “What about your car?”

  “It’s hidden well enough with the cover. It’s made of the same material as the ceiling. There’s always a chance they can find it if I’ve just shut the engine off, but as the engine cools, the chances drop.” He closed the drapes and turned toward her.

  “You did just shut the engine off,” she said, realizing how much she had to learn about life in the resistance. And here she thought she was cutting edge because of the little bit she did.

  “Cooling fan. No worries.”

  “What are these sources you talked about?” She wouldn’t look away.

  “Matt.” Luke tapped his head.

  “Telepathy?” She knew a couple of people who were telepathic. She’d always wished she was.

  “Yeah. It comes in handy when we’re in a pinch and have to lie our way out. I’ll take this bed.” He pointed to the one closest to the door.

  She nodded, studying him as he went back to the window. Everything about him, from his black cowboy boots to the leather jacket he’d tossed onto the bed, attracted her. His body was spectacular, but his brilliant green eyes, fringed by dark, long lashes, drew her the rest of the way in. A recent scar lined his forehead above one eye. Olivia longed to touch it, but she forced back the urge.

  Her stomach growled. She hadn’t eaten anything since dinner the night before last. The toast she’d made after the sirens finally stopped had sat on the counter untouched. There wasn’t much they could do about food, so she
tried to talk herself out of the hunger that threatened to gnaw great holes in her stomach. A door opened in the floor near the television. The man who’d tossed Luke the keys when they arrived, stuck his head through.

  “All is well. The patrol has passed. Marion says hi, and she wants to know who you have with you—such a nosey old broad. She should really mind her own damned business.” Still, he seemed to be waiting for her to spill her secrets.

  “She’s one of us. Poisoned.” Luke didn’t give her name, so Olivia kept quiet.

  “Only a few close enough have the right antidote now—Jenner and Peterson at the farm. What you gonna do?”

  Olivia raised her eyebrow and wondered the same thing.

  “Don’t know yet. I have a few options.” Luke smiled, but Olivia detected his lie. She wondered if the old man could.

  “Sure you do. Here.” He lifted out a basket and set it on the floor in front of him. “Patrol will be back soon. They’re coming more and more often. I gotta get back and put on my compliant face. You all should be fine. Put the key in the basket when you leave. I’ll get them in the morning.” He grinned at Olivia and nodded at Luke before disappearing through the hole.

  As soon as he was gone, Luke stuck a knife through the latch in the little door. “He’s a lifesaver, but I don’t trust him as much as I should. I have a feeling he’d sell us all out if the price was right, regardless of how much he does to help. That doesn’t make sense.” He grabbed the basket.

  “It does. I didn’t get a sense of deception from him though. He was happy to see you. Are you sure the food is safe?” She hoped so since she hadn’t eaten in a long time.

  “I will be.” He uncovered a plate of fried chicken and brought the platter to his nose. “Chicken’s fine.” He repeated the step with each item.

  “How can you do that?” Olivia found paper plates in the basket and handed them over to Luke when he held his hand out.

  He shrugged. “I have an enhanced sense of smell. Took me forever to see the logic in it. But the gift has come in handy on more than one occasion. The drug has a medicinal odor. Not many can detect it.” He passed her a plate of food.

  “It has a medicinal taste, too.” She sat on the bed, studying him between bites. He was full of contrasts. She wondered about his story, but didn’t bother embarrassing herself by asking. This wasn’t freaking date night. He was a colleague helping her and nothing more.

  By the time she’d tossed the paper plate into the trash, she was so tired she could barely see. The thought of sleeping terrified her. A stray thought could endanger them and the nosey old couple in the main house if she projected the flames. The claim of flame-retardant furnishings wouldn’t help them. She sat on the bed, leaned against the pillows, and went through the exercises her great-grandfather had drilled into her head.

  “I can help.” Luke sat on the edge of her bed, too close for comfort. The heat radiating from him melted the ice she’d tried so hard to maintain.

  “Help what?” She swallowed as she stared at his hands.

  “Help you sleep without worrying about burning the place down. Give me your arm.” He ran his forefinger against her skin from her elbow to her palm. “Close your eyes.”

  She did. All she could think about was his touch. Tendrils of want built within her as he repeated the almost tickling motion. On the third pass, her brain relaxed. The naked thoughts continued, but the random, barely-controlled synaptic reactions ceased, and Olivia felt more normal than she had since this whole thing started.

  “It’ll work for almost six hours, which is all the time we have. If you don’t have antidote in you by tomorrow evening, you’ll flare and be permanently damaged.” His voice was like an ocean breeze against naked skin.

  “I know. Thank you.” Her eyelids were too heavy to open. She heard a rustle before softness covered her. The blanket was warm and smelled good. Despite her resolve to stay awake, her body insisted on sleep.

  ~ ~ ~

  Luke watched her drift off and sighed. He hadn’t been sure his little relaxation trick would work, and she’d be pretty damned pissed if she found out he’d done nothing but suggest she could control the flames. Still, it was all he’d been able to offer. Why that bothered him, he didn’t know. He liked her, and he shouldn’t. Was this how his father had been manipulated into betraying his family?

  Pushing the memory away, he powered on his computer and loaded his secure email program. No matter how much the government monitored their media usage, there was always a way around prying eyes. Not many people wanted to take the chance, though, which he understood. One wrong keystroke and your ass was moldy cheese. After answering messages from others involved in the resistance, he skirted into Jenner’s database to see if there was any new information or emails. There wasn’t. The last new intel he’d received was the food list, but the lack of email and information was normal.

  Luke shut down the computer and stretched out on the bed, listening to Olivia breathe. Her scent filled him. This was one of the times he despised the ability to tune into scents. The other firestarters he’d met always had the odor of death and bitter smoke under the surface. It had been easy to keep his distance. Olivia smelled like sunshine.

  He didn’t want to consider what that might mean. He didn’t have time. But the blatant sexual imagery filling him every time he got within a few feet of her was driving him to distraction. He didn’t seem to have any control, though with her other skills, he wasn’t convinced she wasn’t trying to trick him. Damn it to hell.

  The even sound of her breathing lulled him as he drifted through a field of daisies. The sun shone, bringing a warmth he hadn’t felt in far too long. There was no stress knotting the muscles of his shoulders and back. He was done carrying the burdens of the resistance. Dropping down to the soft ground, he inhaled deeply. She was there, beside him, smiling with that flirtatious twinkle she tried really hard to hide. Hell, she probably wasn’t even aware she was doing it.

  He stretched out beside her, grabbing her hand and bringing it to his lips. She sighed, and so did he. The sky turned dark as a heavy veil of clouds drifted overhead. Not just a regular dark sky though. The blackness was like a scratchy wool blanket that left sharp fibers in your skin long after tossing it to the floor. And the scent wasn’t night. It was deception and death. Olivia looked at him with wide, scared eyes. They ran, but the stench followed. When he turned, he was in a house on a twin bed. Someone screamed, but the smoke was too thick to see anything.

  Warm hands touched his face. Luke struggled to get out of the dream, but terror reigned him back in. Hands pressed against his chest, and her scent filled him again. He kept his eyes closed as he let her center him. It was a mistake, but the dream dissipated quickly because of the comfort she offered. He reached up and grabbed her wrist.

  “Are you okay?” She trembled. “I didn’t do this, did I?”

  “No. It was only a dream. Happens all the time.” She had done it, but he didn’t think she’d understand what he meant. Hell, he didn’t even understand.

  “I might be able fix that. Well, maybe not right now, but when I get the antidote.” She smiled a little before pushing her body off the bed with her hands on his chest.

  He didn’t let go of her wrist. He also didn’t say she was the last person he’d let heal the dream. Not because of her, but because of her curse. She stared at him, all trace of worry gone. She’d changed her clothes, or maybe had been in the middle of changing based on the white sports bra and unbuttoned jeans. She was toned, her stomach flat and evenly muscled, her breasts the perfect size. Her hair was wet, and she smelled of the daisies and sunshine from his dream.

  Olivia’s eyes widened, as her nipples hardened against the fabric of her sports bra. Her pulse beat fast against his thumb still on her wrist. She made no move to back away when he tugged her toward him. She landed on his chest, her scent even better close-up. He wanted to taste her, wanted to imprint the pleasant parts of his dream on his brain foreve
r. She didn’t resist when he hooked a hand around the back of her neck and brought her to his mouth. The noise she made in her throat fueled him. She returned the kiss as her hands trailed over his ribcage.

  Her breasts pressed against his chest. He moved his hand to her lower back and turned to his side. He leaned back from the kiss to catch his breath and saw the wild, scared look in her eyes.

  “Whoa. No. What the hell?” He had no idea how that had happened. One minute he’d been dreaming and the next . . . What had she done to him?

  “Stupid. Move your leg, so I can get up.” She shoved against him, her eyes bright with unshed tears.

  He moved. She didn’t turn back around as she got off the bed and went to the bathroom, closing the door behind her and on what just happened. Had she been ready to cry because he’d kissed her, or was there something more? Luke had seen some of her insecurity when she was first drugged. Usually that type of reaction was from random old hurts that hadn’t quite healed. Maybe hers weren’t old. She came out of the bathroom wearing a red T-shirt and sat on the edge of the bed.

  “Take me to Jenner.” The resignation in her voice stabbed at Luke’s heart until the normally functioning organ was hamburger.

  “Fine.” At least then he’d be rid of her and the strange stuff she made him feel. He’d no longer be in danger of falling under a firestarter’s spell like his father had. “We’ll leave at dawn.”

  “It’s nearly that now.” She reached for her boots, not looking up at him when he willed her to.

  He gave up and went to take a shower, overwhelmed by her residual scent lingering in the tiny space. He leaned against the door and let it break over him. The smell of her tears filled him, as well as her disappointment and resignation. What was that all about? Luke tried to shrug it off. Even though she’d managed to control her reaction to the drug, and despite how it seemed she wasn’t, she was still under the drug’s influence. The random, lingering emotions were the poison’s influence. He had to remember that, or he’d end up attempting to offer comfort and being sucked further into her situation.