Embers of Passion

by Genna Love

  Laughter pulled him from his trance. Three guards approached him from the crossroads ahead, their metal clinking as they walked. He scanned the buildings around him.

  A tavern was to his right, the soft glow of lanterns from inside visible from the street.

  Fuck. He should have been paying more attention. This was the same area he’d been in when he’d rescued the woman from the horny guard, which meant that very guard could be approaching him right now.

  Quickly, he hurried into the inn, sending a prayer to the gods above he wouldn’t be followed.

  As he shut the door, he realized that it was possible that the guard he’d burned the night before was not one of the three outside, but someone in here at that very moment, but he’d have to take that chance.

  Taariq exhaled a long breath and kept his head down, hurrying straight to the bar. He pulled out a stool and sat down, leaving his back the only thing anyone behind him could see. His heart boomed in his chest, its pulse pounding in his ears so loud he couldn’t think.

  One minute passed. Then another. Finally, after a few minutes, he allowed himself to relax. If the tavern had been the guards’ destination, they would have been there by now. And after a quick scan of the room, he didn’t see anyone he needed to worry about.

  He’d been in this place a few times, but since it had the unfortunate tendency to attract the city guard, Taariq usually avoided it.

  The barmaid walked down the staircase to the left of the bar and headed straight to Taariq.

  As she approached him, she looked warily across the room before asking, “What can I get you to drink?”

  She was a heavy-set woman, carrying most of her weight in her chest and her stomach. Her dress was modest, which meant she wasn’t a prostitute, at least not anymore. And from the wrinkles pressed into her skin around her mouth and eyes, he imagined she was past the age the most patrons lusted for.

  Taariq slid his last coin to her. “Whatever this will buy.”

  The barmaid picked it up, gave Taariq a second glance, then slipped it into her pocket. Seconds later, she was back with a tall glass of mead and two bronze coins.

  “Change is for you,” he said as he took the drink from her.

  She dipped her chin politely before moving on to the drunk man at the end of the bar.

  As Taariq lifted the cup to his mouth, the fire in him flickered. It was rare that his magic made itself known to him unless he called upon it. He’d felt it a few times, usually when he was too drunk to stand, as some warning he should head to bed. Otherwise, it was a silent part of him until he needed it.

  He finished bringing the cup to his mouth and took a long drink before his magic blazed even stronger than before.

  As if someone else controlled his body, he turned his head toward the staircase the women had descended. Standing there in a black lace dress was a woman he’d seen before.

  At first, he couldn’t recollect why she was familiar. But when a flame flickered in his hand, he knew exactly who she was. He hadn’t meant to call his fire within. It had just come on instinct, something that had never happened before.

  She was the woman from the night before. Only then, she’d been dressed in commoner clothing. The corset attire she wore now was definitely that of a noble. What had she been doing upstairs? There was no way she was a prostitute. And if his gut was right and she was from the castle, she was a long way from home.

  One moment, their eyes were locked. The next, panic flashed across her face as she looked at the inn’s entrance.

  Taariq shifted to see what had her so worried. Three guards, most likely the ones he’d seen before, entered the room. One of them unrolled a scroll and showed it to four men sitting at a table, eating dinner.

  When Taariq glanced back to the woman, she was gone.

  The men at the table shook their heads and the guards continued to the next table.

  Clearly, they were looking for someone. Had the guard reported Taariq? It had been dark, so the odds were he hadn’t gotten the best look. But it wasn’t like the guards to ask questions before arresting someone. If Taariq even resembled the picture they were showing to people, he’d be taken in and interrogated, something he did not want to happen.

  He had to get out of there without them seeing him.

  He moved as quickly as he could without seeming suspicious. With his back facing the guards, he slid to the stairs and, without a look back, climbed them two steps a stride.

  Where had the woman gone?

  He followed the hallway slowly, trying to come up with a plan. With every step, his fire burned a little stronger until he stopped outside a door on his right.

  His hand turned the knob and, without thinking, he opened the door.

  The woman stood there with a piece of wood raised in the air and a determined look on her face.

  “I’m not here to hurt you,” Taariq said, raising his hands to show he meant no harm. “I’m just hiding.”

  She tilted her head. “From who?”

  “The guards who just came in here. If you scream, they’ll find me.”

  Now that Taariq was closer, he got a better look at her. Her hazel eyes were so cool in the low light of the room, they almost appeared gray. Long hazelnut colored hair reached halfway to her waist, waved in a natural way.

  He took two steps into the room and gently shut the door, keeping his hands lifted.

  “How do you know it’s you they want?” She lowered the chunk of wood and set it by the fire.

  There was something about her that called to Taariq. Which wasn’t normal. She was gorgeous, sure. Possibly the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. But that wasn’t it. He’d felt it the night before too, only then he’d been too distracted to pay attention.

  Now, alone in this room, the fire within him stirred.

  “I may have a history of doing things that aren’t exactly legal.”

  “Like using magic to rescue a woman being assaulted by a guard?” She tilted her head inquisitively.

  He was right. It was the woman he’d saved. She’d seen him use his fire, but yet she didn’t seem afraid of him. “Yes, not my smartest move ever.”

  “How did—” she started as the door burst open.

  Taariq leaped toward the window. Jumping from the second story wouldn’t be fun, but it was a risk he’d have to take if the guards were there.

  “You need to hurry, miss.” The barmaid waited in the doorway. When she saw Taariq, her eyes narrowed. “Who are you?”

  “This man saved me yesterday,” the other woman said. “We are leaving together.” She nodded at Taariq as if urging him to play along.

  “I live nearby,” he said. “Is there a back way out? Somewhere we can slip by unnoticed?”

  “Follow the hallway all the way down and to the left. There you’ll find a door that leads outside. There’s a small patio and to the left, there’s a rope ladder that’s connected to the ledge. Go, now. They will be up here shortly.” The barmaid turned to leave, but the woman stopped her.

  “Wait,” the woman said. The barmaid glanced back, and the woman extended her arm. “Thank you. For everything.”

  The barmaid took her hand and squeezed it. “Be safe.” With that, she disappeared down the hallway.

  “We need to hurry.” The other woman glanced down the hallway. “Let’s go.”

  Taariq still didn’t know who this woman was, but that was something he would worry about later. She seemed as eager to escape the guards as he did.

  He followed her down the hallway, and just as the barmaid said, around the corner and at the end was a door. The woman unbolted the iron lock and stepped outside.

  A male voice carried down the hall. “Let’s check every room.”

  Taariq hurried to catch up to the woman and shut the door behind himself. “They’re upstairs.”

  Panic flashed in the woman’s wide eyes.

  For the first time, Taariq questioned if they were looking for him at all. “Why a
re you running?”

  The woman picked up the pile of rope. “I promise I will tell you the truth as soon as we are safe. But it sounds like neither of us wants to be found, so wasting any more time talking endangers us both.”

  He couldn’t argue. “I’ll go first.”

  After a quick glance down the street to make sure there were no guards waiting outside the inn, Taariq stepped over the wooden railing. “Toss me the ladder.”

  The woman handed the pile of rope to him then glanced back at the door. “Hurry up.”

  He dropped the rope and it fell into a long ladder that reached to the ground below. He gave it a tug to make sure it was secure, then climbed down it as quickly as he could.

  A moment after his feet found the ground, the woman was over the railing and onto the ladder. When she was halfway down, her foot slipped. She gasped as her weight fell, leaving her clinging onto the rope with only her hands.

  Footsteps thudded above. Two guards peered over the edge. “We found them,” one yelled.

  “Just drop,” Taariq said. “I’ll catch you.”

  He expected her to protest, but without hesitation, she released her grip and fell toward the ground. Just in time, he reached out his hands and caught her by the waist.

  “I didn’t think you’d actually do it,” he said.

  “Guess you don’t know much about me.” She smirked. “Now let’s get out of here.”

  The clinking of armor drew his attention. He peeked around the building and saw five guards heading their way. “Come on.” He grabbed the woman’s hand and they sprinted in the other direction.

  “There they are,” a guard yelled as he turned the corner.

  “Where are we going?” she asked.

  “To get them off our trail,” Taariq replied.

  His boarding house was on the opposite side of the tavern as they now ran, but he didn’t want the guards to have any idea where he lived, so they would have to lose them before they could find shelter in his room.

  The woman released her breath in jagged huffs. “I can’t run much longer.”

  Taariq scanned the area as soon as they turned the corner ahead, his eyes settling on the wagon parked in front of a horse supply store. “C’mon.”

  He led her to the wagon and reached out his locked hands. “Hurry in. We can hide in here.”

  The woman looked inside the canopy to the pile of straw, then to Taariq. She sighed, lifted her foot into his hands, and he tossed her up.

  When he climbed in, he pulled the canopy door closed.

  He sat down next to her, his magic pulsing as his arms brushed against hers. His palm warmed, and he pulled it into his body. Now would be the worst possible time for his fire to have a mind of its own. One small flame and the straw around them would ignite.

  “What if they look in here?” she whispered as she caught her breath.

  It was a risky decision to stop running, but unless Taariq wanted to leave her behind, hiding was their only choice. “Well, then we’re fucked.”

  He readied himself to calm her down, but instead, she grinned. “I suppose that’s as accurate an answer as any.”

  Whoever this woman was, Taariq already liked her.

  Zarah

  Zarah had never been in a boarding house before, but it was just like she’d imagined from the books she’d read.

  They’d waited over an hour in the cover of the wagon before taking their chance and doubling back to where the man lived. Being so close to him had awakened something in her she couldn’t explain. Heat radiated through her limbs and a rush of energy swam within her. So many questions bounced around in her head, but she had been too afraid to talk as they walked in the empty streets to the boarding house. They’d escaped the guards once. She had no desire to press her luck and do it again.

  They’d entered through the front door and headed straight down a dimly lit hallway, taking the last door on the left.

  The room was dark, lit only by the open window allowing in moonlight from above.

  In front of Zarah, her escape companion hesitated.

  He turned toward her and asked, “Why were you running from the guards?”

  She’d promised him the truth so he’d hurry up, but now she was regretting that decision. “How did you save me yesterday?”

  “Deflecting, clever.” The man stepped toward Zarah. He eyed her from head-to-toe and back up until his gaze latched onto hers. “Corset. Dress made of lace.” He leaned closer and scooped a strand of her hair, twirling it with his finger.

  Zarah held her breath as something in her stirred again as it had in the wagon. At first, she thought it was simply their proximity. She inhaled his smoky cedar scent as she stared into his emerald eyes. There was a spark in them she’d never seen before, a playfulness she wanted to get to know.

  “Either you’ve ransacked the palace, and that’s why you’re running—or you’re from a noble family.”

  Zarah could lie. Say the first answer was correct. He’d seen her the day before in commoner clothing, so it wouldn’t be a stretch that she’d stolen today’s attire. But she didn’t want to deceive him. Not when, if she were to be caught, she and anyone aiding her would surely be hung.

  “If I answer your question, you must swear on the Divine above you’ll answer mine truthfully.”

  “And if I don’t believe in the Divine?” He lifted an eyebrow and pursed his lips. They were plump, kissable lips, and she couldn’t help but wonder what they’d feel like pressed against her own.

  “Swear on your mother,” Zarah said, focusing on the conversation instead of his attractive features. “Surely, you believe in her.”

  The man, whose name Zarah didn’t know, swallowed his cocky expression and stared at her for a moment before answering, pain in his eyes. “I swear.”

  “I’m Princess Zarah, daughter of Walden and Donella d’Arques.” She hadn’t expected the truth to feel so thick on her tongue. Admitting who she was to this man was only making the reality of what she had done—and the repercussions of it—more real. “I was set to marry the Cardasian Prince. Only this morning, somehow, I burned his flesh with nothing more than my hands.”

  Had that really been this morning? This was the longest day she’d ever faced.

  The man glanced at her hands. “You have magic?”

  Magic. The most forbidden thing in all of the kingdom. Every person known to possess it had been hung, any book daring to speak of such sorcery had been burned. In most libraries, that was. The books Zarah had taken were hidden in the passageway. She desperately wanted to get them so she might figure out what was happening to her.

  “I didn’t until this morning.” From everything Zarah had read, magic was something you were either born with or without, and it usually manifested when a mage was a child. But her childhood days were long gone. “Now my turn. Are you a fire mage?”

  “Yes.”

  She was surprised how quickly he answered, even if she’d seen his hand glow orange with her own eyes. Mages had been banished after the war, and anyone caught inside the kingdom with it earned themselves death by hanging.

  “You risked yourself to save me yesterday.” She recalled the rush of heat she’d felt when their hands had touched before he distracted the guard so she could run. “Why?”

  “Heavens if I know.” He moved to his bed and sat. “Not once have I ever risked using magic so publically. And I’ve nearly been caught by the guards many times. But I didn’t even think last night. It was like I could feel your panic and I had to stop it.”

  The tightness in her chest and the sickness in her stomach she’d felt when the guard had touched her breast surfaced, but she pushed it away.

  She shifted in her dress, noticing the long tear in its skirt. “Well, before we get too far ahead of ourselves, what’s your name?”

  The man peered up at her and smiled. He stood and extended his hand. “I’m Taariq, proud boarding-house dweller and commoner, Your Highness.”


  She didn’t miss the sarcasm that glazed his words. How could he not think her silly after what she’d done? Sneaking away to a city tavern then nearly being assaulted by a very guard sworn to protect her. Surely he must have thought her ever wanting to leave the protection of the palace walls ridiculous.

  “Nice to meet you, Taariq.” When her hand met his, heat washed over her like a hot wind. She yanked her arm away. “What was that?”

  “I’m not sure.” He glanced at his palm then to hers. “It was like you absorbed my magic.”

  Although it looked as it always had, heat radiated from her hand as if it was on fire. Zarah remembered the anger she felt when Prince Marius said he would suffocate the spark right out of her. Rage slithered through her, bringing a wave of dizziness.

  To keep from falling over, she placed a hand on the wall. The smell of scorched earth filled her nose as she inhaled deeply to alleviate her spinning head.

  It didn’t work. The lightheadedness deepened as a flood of warmth rose to her head, causing her to wobble to the right.

  “Just breathe.” Taariq grabbed her waist, steadying her.

  His hands on her body seemed to cure her wooziness. She tilted her chin up, their faces merely inches apart. “Thank you. I’m not sure what came over me.”

  He swallowed and pressed his mouth into a line.“You’ve never had magic?”

  She processed everything that had occurred since leaving the castle last night. “Not until today. I mean, if magic is to explain what happened, that is.”

  “You say you burned this prince?” He paused until she answered with a nod. “What were the two of you doing?” He tilted his head and grinned.

  “He’d set up a target in the middle of the courtyard for me to practice archery as some pretend gesture that he isn’t as wicked as he seems.” She huffed, embarrassed she’d believed for even a moment the act had been sincere. “Then, flirted with me only to fool me into getting close enough for him to promise to tame me like I’m some horse that needs to be broken in.”

  The nerve of that bastard. Zarah wished she’d have tricked him out of his pants and burned his cock.