by Lisa Kessler
They ordered and grabbed a table in the corner. He smiled at Erica—his muse.
Shit. He must be nuts.
He cleared his throat. “What did you want to tell me?”
She put her hands on the table and stared at them. “I’m not sure where to start.”
He reached across the table, lifting her chin to meet his eyes. “How about you tell me why you avoid relationships, and then I’ll tell you why I keep my distance? We can compare notes.”
A hint of a smile curved her lips. “Well you already know how my last relationship ended. It doesn’t exactly make me eager to try again.” She pressed her lips together for a second and met his eyes. “I seem to inspire passion in men and…too much of that can drive them mad.” She paused, raising a brow. “You’re not going to tell me I have a pretty high opinion of myself?”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “I’ve enjoyed your inspiration first hand.” He covered her hands with his. “But you can’t take credit for your ex-boyfriend’s psychosis.”
She shrugged. “You don’t know everything yet.”
He squeezed her hands before she could go on. “My turn. I had a near-death experience out in the waves when I was getting ready for a high-school surf tournament. Hunter saved my life, pulled me out of the water, and got me breathing again. But while I was out, I saw the light. From above, I saw my friend pounding my chest, demanding I start to breathe.”
His throat closed. What the hell was he doing? He’d never told anyone this, not even Hunter.
Erica laced her fingers with his, her eyes shining. “You don’t have to tell me.”
He cleared his throat, finding his voice again. “It’s not that. I wish I knew how to put it into words, but when I saw my body on the sand, I suddenly knew that if I walked away from this life, someone would die. I had to live. Someone needed me. I still don’t know how or why, but I knew.”
And a crazy piece of the puzzle slid into place. The life he was meant to save, it had never been his ex-wife Lila’s, or a pilot from a fiery landing—it was Erica.
A guy carrying a tray of burgers and shakes approached them in his Geno’s polo shirt. “Number sixty-five?”
Reed nodded. “Yeah.”
He handed the kid the plastic table number, but as the server bent to take it, one of the chocolate shakes tipped off the edge of the tray. Erica squeaked. The lid stayed on, keeping the shake inside, but the cup didn’t hit her, either. It sort of stopped in midair.
Reed caught it, unsure how, and set it on the table.
“Good catch.” The server turned to Erica. “I’m so sorry.”
She shook her head, but her eyes were squarely on Reed. “No problem. I’m fine.”
The server put the burgers and the other shake on the table and scurried off.
Reed could barely muster a whisper as he set the shake in front of her. “I don’t know what just happened.”
She blinked and lowered her voice. “It’s like it hit an invisible wall and hovered until you grabbed it.”
He frowned, looking at the cup again. “But that’s not possible.”
Or was it? Hunter could hear voices. Another Guardian saw visions. Did Reed just protect Erica from a chocolate shake with his mind?
No fucking way.
Reed tried to shake it off by lifting his gaze to meet her eyes and continuing his story. “I met this girl after I graduated from high school. She was a runaway and needed help, and I thought she was it—the one I was supposed to save. But I think she saw me coming and played me until I had nothing left.”
She sighed, her eyes looking everywhere but at him. “Good reasons for us both to stay far away from emotional attachments.”
“For sure.”
They ate in silence after that. Reed tensed every time the door opened, but there was no sign of Jack. If the asshole was watching her, he was keeping his distance.
“Thanks for the food,” she said when they were both done. “I guess I should get back to my car.”
Reed’s chest constricted at the thought of her driving away. He cleared his throat. “I don’t think you ever told me what you needed to say.”
“That’s okay.” She shook her head. “It’s not important.”
He nodded, threw away the trash, and walked beside her back to his truck. He opened her door. “I’m going to find Jack, and if he set fire to the cantina, I’ll be sure he goes to jail for a long time.”
She got in and looked up at him, her voice a soft whisper. “I don’t want to go home.”
His pulse quickened as he stepped closer, leaning into the cab. “Come to my place.”
“I can’t.”
The fear in her eyes grated on him. He wished he could take it away.
“Jack was a lawyer, Reed. He wasn’t always like this. Being with me made him obsessed, jealous, and paranoid. It could happen to you, too.”
“I’m not a jealous guy.” He closed her door and jogged around the cab. “I have an idea.”
It was crazy, but maybe a little crazy was just what they needed.
CHAPTER 6
Reed pulled into the Casbah, a club famous for the best deejays and plenty of dancing in close quarters. She frowned and glanced over at him. “What are we doing here?”
He shrugged. “I don’t think you made that asshole go crazy, and I figured we could prove it.”
She raised a brow. “How?”
“We’ll go inside and you can dance. I’ll stay at the bar.”
She laughed, shaking her head. “That is a seriously horrible plan.”
“Why? Because you inspire passion in people? There’s nothing horrible about that. They’ll all go home and get lucky, and you’ll come back with me. Everyone wins.”
Her smile faded. “What’s in it for you?”
“We can see if it makes me jealous, and then you can stop worrying that my being around you is going to make me psychotic.”
Her jaw dropped a little. “Wait a second, I thought we both agreed, no relationships.”
“Spending time together doesn’t have to be a relationship,” he pointed out.
She thought about it for a second. “Friends with benefits?”
He reached for her hand, a crooked smile on his lips. “As many benefits as we like.”
A warning whispered in her head. He had no idea her muse would never be sated. He didn’t even know Erato existed inside her.
Not that he’d ever believe her, anyway.
And damn, the sexy glint in his eyes made her want to undress him in the cab of the truck. She cleared her throat. “Okay. Let’s do this.”
They walked to the entrance, and he pulled the door open to the club. The pounding bass immediately vibrated in her chest—primal and demanding, awakening the desire.
He lifted her hand to his lips and leaned in close to her ear. “Enjoy yourself.”
He turned, the crowd parting as he made his way toward the bar. She watched the way he moved: confident and strong, with his jeans hugging him in all the right places. When he secured himself a stool, his dark eyes met hers, stealing her breath. He tipped his head toward the dance floor.
This was crazy, but the music was calling to her, and knowing he was watching her amplified the heat flooding her veins. She turned to lose herself in the crowd of gyrating bodies and then glanced back at him one last time. It almost scared her how much she wanted to storm up to the bar and drag him out there with her.
The moment she stepped onto the dance floor heads started to turn. A man pushed his way over to her. “Hey, baby. Love those curves.”
The beat of the music inspired grinding, and he moved in close behind her, not quite touching but mirroring the slow circle of her hips. She tossed her head, flipping her long hair over her shoulder as she scanned the bar. Reed sipped a drink and raised a brow.
Her body warmed, but it had nothing to do with the guy on the dance floor. She chuckled and surrendered to the dance as another would-be partner stepped in f
ront of her. Erica ran her hands down her waist and over her hips to her thighs, she stared up at him. He had a chiseled jaw, short dark hair, and a bright smile, but…
Oh gods, was she really about to compare him to Reed?
Her new dance partner caught her hand and spun her around, reeling her back in close. She anticipated the surge of need, but it didn’t come, not in the doses she got from…
No.
She broke away from the new guy. “Restroom?” she yelled. He pointed toward the left corner of the building. “Thanks.”
She made her way across the floor, quickly ducked into a stall, and locked the door. What was wrong with her? But she already knew the answer to that. She was falling for Reed McIntosh.
Dammit. She knew better.
This was a stupid game. He was the only man in this entire club that she wanted. But if he morphed into an abusive jerk like Jack, she’d never recover.
Suddenly, screams pierced through the music. Erica frowned. The deejay cut the song, and she recognized the word everyone was shouting.
Fire.
The bathroom emptied fast. She followed, but by the time she opened the door, hysteria had taken over. People were stampeding for the exit. Erica pushed out of the bathroom, struggling to stay on her feet. She covered her nose and mouth, coughing, as the thick smoke disoriented her. She couldn’t see the exit.
A strong hand caught her arm. “Erica! We need to get out of here.”
Reed had come through the chaos like a god.
He guided her through the thick smoke, stopping to help another woman up from the floor. She had been trampled; she was bleeding and holding her arm, but alive. He led them both toward the front door.
The moment he got them outside, the cool night air and oxygen made Erica realize how close she’d come to tragedy. Relief sank into her until she sobbed.
Sirens blared, and red lights danced around the stunned crowd. Reed took Erica and the injured woman over to the ambulance. “They need some O2, and she was down”—he pointed to the stranger—“might have a broken arm.”
The EMTs went to work. Erica had a mask on before she could say a word to Reed.
He bent over, his voice hoarse from the smoke. “I need to talk to the fire chief. I’ll be right back.” He searched her eyes. “Wait for me.”
She nodded.
And just like that, Reed went back toward the burning building.
Ted Belkin stared out of his office window, watching the plume of black smoke. It was the second fire in less than a week. News reports were already claiming the one on the Navy Base had been arson. If the same claim was made again, the city would be on the lookout for an arsonist.
And if the Theater of the Muses burned… It would no doubt be another victim of the arsonist.
He picked up his phone and hit Bryce’s number.
“Yeah?” his enforcer answered.
“There’s been another fire.” Ted popped his gum. “If they’re connected, we might be able to start our own and let this firebug take the fall.”
The smile in Bryce’s voice was practically audible. “The theater.”
“Exactly.” The plumes of smoke rose in the distance as Ted smirked. “This could be just the ‘accident’ we need. We’ll wait until they’re all inside. We’ll block all the doors…”
“And burn it to the ground.”
“Sniff around and see what you can find out. We’ll have to make it look connected to the others.”
“I’m on it, Boss.”
Ted ended the call and dropped his gum in the trash. His father’s death would be avenged, and there would be nothing to stop their mission. Two birds with one fiery stone.
And with the muses out of the way, he could focus on getting rid of the Greek in his father’s office.
This was turning into a great night.
This wasn’t Reed’s unit, but he had no trouble finding the fire chief standing by his red SUV.
“I’m with Federal Fire,” Reed said, introducing himself. “I was inside when a Molotov cocktail came in the front door and exploded on the dance floor. I think this might be the same guy who started the cantina fire on base a few days ago.”
“Let’s hope we don’t have a serial arsonist in town.” The chief yelled some orders through his walkie-talkie.
They’d arrived on the scene fast, drowning the fire before it could take any lives. The ventilation team was already on the roof, while two RIT teams were dragging out the injured and spraying water on the fire.
The chief adjusted his helmet. “We’ll need to ask you some questions later.”
Reed nodded. “I’ll be in touch in the morning.” The chief took Reed’s card and stuffed it in his pocket.
Adrenaline was still coursing through his veins as Reed pushed through the crowd of onlookers to get back to the ambulance. He’d had his eyes on the restrooms, waiting for her to come back out, when a ball of fire had flown through the front door and a wave of heat had erupted on the dance floor. He’d been off his stool in a flash, fighting through the stampede of people trying to escape while he moved farther inside.
At that moment, all that had mattered was finding Erica and keeping her safe.
Thank god it was over. For now.
Erica got up as he approached the ambulance, and he wrapped her in his arms, holding her tight as he kissed her hair. Her hands slid around his waist. He wasn’t sure how long they stood there together—it could have been a second or an hour—but his reluctance to let her go said something.
Something he didn’t want to think about.
He pulled back. “Are you all right?”
She nodded. “Shaken up, but I’m okay.”
“Good. I’m going to give my statement in the morning. Let’s get out of here.” He took her hand and walked her back to his truck.
Suddenly his ankle was burning again. Reed froze, turning around as another fire bomb came from the embankment. But this time, it was headed toward his truck.
In one swift movement, he stepped in front of Erica, and the glass swerved hard to the right, shattering and lighting up a tree on the edge of the lot.
“Shit. Get in the truck. Now,” he ordered.
They ran for the doors.
How many Molotovs had the pyro made? Reed had no clue, but he wasn’t going to stand around making him and Erica targets to find out. He drove out of the parking lot as the firefighters turned their hoses on the new flames.
His heart was still hammering as they got on the highway. He glanced at Erica and realized she was staring at him. “What? Are you all right?” he asked.
“You knew the second fire was coming… You stopped and turned around.”
“We definitely need to talk, but let’s do it at my place. I’m guessing if this is Jack and he’s been stalking you, he knows where you live.”
“But my car’s still at the beach.”
“We’ll get it in the morning.”
She nodded and stared out the passenger window. Good. If she weren’t, he was pretty sure she’d notice his hands shaking on the wheel.
He replayed the moment over and over: His birthmark burned. He had stopped, sensing the danger. When that incendiary device came right at them, it had somehow changed direction away from the cars.
Just as he’d wanted it to.
Was this the Guardian ability Hunter was talking about again? Had to be. Either way, he needed to learn to control it, and fast.
Their lives might depend on it.
He parked his truck down the street from his apartment, opting to walk a couple of blocks home. The arsonist knew what he drove now, and he’d rather not lead the lunatic straight to his place.
Once they were safe inside, Erica called her roommate and sat down at his small dining room table. She looked up at him when she hung up, and even with soot on her face and in her hair, she made his heart pound.
He pulled another chair over to sit beside her. “I probably should have told you this at
the beach tonight, but I was still struggling with what it all meant.”
She frowned. “What are you talking about?”
He popped his shoe off and then his sock, leaving his birthmark on the outside of his ankle exposed. The redness was already receding. He waited for her to meet his eyes again and whispered, “Hunter and Callie told me this isn’t a normal birthmark.”
Erica blinked and started to shake her head. “You’re a Guardian.”
“Seems that way.” He sat back in his chair, running a hand down his face as he gathered his thoughts. His gaze locked on hers. “Something sent me back the day Hunter pulled me out of the ocean. I was supposed to save someone. And I think it’s you.”
CHAPTER 7
Erica stared at the mark on his ankle, not quite believing her eyes. When she finally lifted her gaze, the words fell from her lips. “They told you?”
“About Guardians.”
She raised a brow. “So Callie didn’t tell you about me?”
“She told me you were a muse,” he said. “I’m putting my money on Erato. Am I close?”
Her eyes widened. She’d already seen Reed’s courage in action, and he was off-the-charts sexy, but she hadn’t known him long enough to gauge his background. “You know about the Greek muses?”
He smiled, shaking his head. “They sang in the Hercules movie my little niece made me watch.”
“Um. No.” Laughter bubbled from her throat, surprising her. “Trinity is the only singer among us.”
He straightened up, meeting her eyes. “Before I hit the waves today, I did a little research on Google.” He tipped his head slightly. “Erato was the Muse of Lyrics and Erotic Poetry. She inspired passion and fire.”
Erica wet her lips, her heart pounding. “Which is what eventually drove Jack off the deep end.” How was she going to make Reed understand? “I’ve seen the scroll with the prophecy. The gods marked you and gave you a ‘gift’ to protect your muse. But if we keep going down this path, physically and emotionally, everything good in you will mutate into obsession.”
