Sapphire Flame: A Paranormal Romance (The Flame Series Book 7)

by Caris Roane

  “Happy to.” Ryan pulled his phone from his jean’s pocket. Grant moved away several yards as Ryan began the peace talks.

  The conversation was even on Ryan’s side but more than once, Ryan pulled his phone away from his ear. Grant could hear Neil shouting.

  Finally, Grant knew he had to step in.

  He took the phone. “Dammit, Neil, I need your help. I’ve got a fae who thinks she might have an alter shadowing her behind an Elegance spell. I don’t know any warlocks who have your level of power who could help figure this out. I’m not asking for myself, but for Natalie.”

  “Natalie? Is she the futurist who also financially supports Kiara’s Revel refuge?”

  “Yes.”

  “I know her. I’m one of her clients.”

  Grant felt his brows lift skyward. Another connection. Neil was one of the wealthiest men in Elegance and Natalie had no doubt helped get him there. Talk about a small world. “Will you help us then?”

  A long pause ensued. “You’ll have to come here. Things are rough with this transition. And I’ll want an apology.”

  Grant swallowed his temper and his pride. “Done.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Natalie locked up her studio for the night and rose slowly into the air.

  Dawn was still a few hours away. She had kept her futurist appointments well past midnight but had never been more bored. The only thing she wanted to do before retiring for her day’s sleep was to inquire about the fae, Talya, to see how she was doing.

  Talya had been moved to Agnes’s high-security compound and would be well taken care of there.

  Natalie flew to her home less than a half-mile away. She’d done well over the years with her futurism and had built a home on the canal. It was an upscale neighborhood and in recent years had seen an unwelcome increase in human tourist boats. Still, she loved her home and at well past two, the last of the tourists had gone home. Only the quiet sound of paddle boats belonging to alters could be heard disturbing the waters.

  She landed as she often did in the backyard near the patio off the kitchen. A good part of her garden was shrouded with hedges to keep her privacy against the more recent tourist invasions. Many of her neighbors had done the same. When she wanted to enjoy the canal, she went for long walks on the canal-side paths usually after the crowds had returned to their U.S. homes.

  She’d landscaped following a simple Mediterranean design with straight gravel paths, Italian Cypress trees, and a purple flowering ground cover. Several large stone pots dotted the patio and contained a mixture of citrus trees and yellow hibiscus. Closer to the master bedroom end of the yard, she had a rectangular stretch of lawn which her human gardening service maintained along with the rest of her property.

  She entered through the sliding patio door to her kitchen. By habit, she poured herself a glass of Pinot Grigio and prepared a small plate of parmesan, sweet grapes and salty crackers. She took her feast, including the bottle of wine, back to the patio. In the early hours of the morning, the late September temperature was about perfect.

  As she ate, Grant came to mind like a sudden breeze. Memories surged as they had off-and-on all night.

  What kept drawing her back was the kiss at Boulders Beach and how, because the dreamglide had lowered her inhibitions, she’d almost made love to a wolf.

  She felt so many things that her mind reeled.

  She took a long drink of wine then lifted her gaze skyward, to the few scattered stars. Only the brightest showed through. There was too much city-light.

  A few more swallows and the wine began to ease through her veins. She felt her limbs start to relax.

  The kisses had been heaven, the first she’d had in six years. The first she’d allowed herself.

  She’d forgotten the immense comfort a man’s arms could offer. She’d even forgotten the quick, exhilarating burst of desire she could feel. She’d wanted sex with Grant like the wind craving space to gather speed.

  Something about the wolf had electrified her body.

  She took another long sip.

  She didn’t want to want him, but oh, God, she did.

  Settling her wine glass on the table, she leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes.

  She couldn’t be with a wolf. There was a part of her that loathed Savage Territory and the nature of the wolf alter. Each time she saw the results of wolf teeth and powerful wolf jaws, her dislike grew.

  When Alexis had disappeared during the Fae-Wolf Wars, she’d broken her vow to stay removed from the conflict. She’d used her futurism to predict the location of the next wolf attack. The fae victory that followed, as well as the deaths of several wolves, had been shouted to the heavens.

  But she’d seen the bodies of the dead and had known that these weren’t rogue enemies, but members of one of the twelve packs. She’d been misled and had ceased her involvement then and there. It was one thing to be attacking vicious wolves who lived apart from pack life and were a law unto themselves, but quite another to be engaged in an ongoing battle with hard-working pack members. She knew the difference and was angry with those fae officers who had told her they were dealing with rogues intent on killing fae.

  She’d shed countless tears and eventually had gone to the Tribunal begging for an intervention. She didn’t stop pleading her case until finally the Trib relented and stepped in to end the conflict.

  She ate a few grapes and stacked thin slices of parmesan on the crackers. She refilled her glass and drank more wine.

  When she lifted her glass to her lips, she noticed something very odd on the backs of her hands. She set her glass down and held her hands up at eye-level. She didn’t know what she was looking at. A rainbow-like luminescence floated across the surface of her skin and seemed to be in motion.

  Oddly enough, she wasn’t frightened or distressed, which she should have been. Instead, the iridescent movement felt like part of her.

  She sat back in her chair and the colors began to fade then disappeared. Where had it gone, and could she bring it back?

  She sought about in her mind for some clue as to why she’d suddenly developed such a strange physical symptom in the first place.

  What had she just been thinking about?

  The answer was simple: the wolves of Savage.

  Just like that, the iridescence returned and moved over her skin once more. She brought Grant forward within her mind and held him there. The colors intensified. She explored her desire for him, then pondered what she thought of his character and his worth, about his former life as a science teacher, even about Renee. More movement, more color.

  She switched her focus to some of the fae Border Patrol officers she knew and gradually the odd colors and movement faded. But the moment she brought Grant back to mind, the colors returned.

  She tried another experiment and settled her mind on Talya, who was fae. The signs disappeared. Then she focused on Savage Territory and the two alphas who were doing good things for their packs, Alphas Warren and Fergus. The iridescence strengthened once more.

  She continued doing this, losing the sign when she thought of anything other than wolves and Savage, but regaining it no matter which part of wolf-life she began to think about.

  There was only one conclusion and it felt like a blow to the back of her head: Whatever this was on her hands, it was wolf.

  She blinked. It couldn’t be.

  She closed her eyes and sent up a quick prayer to the heavens. She couldn’t be part wolf.

  Renee’s voice was suddenly in her mind. Ooooh, I really like this table.

  Natalie popped her eyes open. Renee stood on top of the large, round wrought-iron table with her bare toes curled over the edge and her arms spread out as though she was riding a wave.

  Her balancing movements sent her ghost-mist shifting about. But enough held together that she really did look like she was surfing.

  Had her prayer just been answered?

  “You’re back.”

  Renee turned to
her and smiled. She then jumped from the table to the tile patio floor, a movement that sent her mist flattening into a pool then materializing back into her colorful ghost form. She wore red shorts this time and a white tank top.

  I am. I’ve got an archangel up my ass about you. I have only one message tonight, though, then I’m outta here.

  “Okay.”

  Renee appeared to be thinking hard. Right. I’ve got it. You’re to go see the tall fae. No that’s not right, though she is tall. She snapped her fingers sending quick drifts sideways off her hand. Go see Talya, the fae. That’s it. Gotta run.

  She disappeared but came right back. Listen up. This isn’t from Gabriel, it’s from me. If you’re gonna survive the not-too-distant future, you’ve gotta jump in with both feet. Oh, and Aaron said to say, ‘Don’t hold back.’

  Renee said nothing more, she simply vanished.

  Natalie was left feeling like she’d taken another hard hit to her skull.

  And Aaron had sent her a message.

  She had a strange, wolfish iridescence on the backs of her.

  Renee surfing on her table.

  Grant and penguins and dreamglide-building.

  And now, on Gabriel’s orders, she needed to go see Talya.

  She couldn’t imagine what was going to happen next. At least, she’d be able to see for herself how Talya was doing.

  ~ ~ ~

  Grant flew to Elegance Territory with clenched fists. His nails dug into the palms of his hands. The night was still warm in September as his gaze flitted across the sky in front of him. He checked to make sure his route over Savage was clear.

  Most alter creatures couldn’t levitate. But Grant had been able to since his first year in Five Bridges, a sure sign even then he’d been alpha material.

  As far as he could tell, he was alone in the skies.

  Crossing the border between Savage and Elegance, he wasn’t far from Defiance Bridge, which formed a ‘T’ with Phoenix and was the sole connection between the two territories. The Border Patrols of both worked this bridge heavily though at opposite ends. There were five such bridges separating the territories. At this hour, not far from dawn, there was just a trickle of humans driving out of their world and back to their safe homes in the U.S.

  Below him, was a deep ditch full of broken concrete and topped with a thick barrier of barbed wire. The ditch was twenty feet wide and extended from the Graveyard all the way to the Five Bridges heavily-patrolled border with the U.S. proper.

  In the early days, thirty years ago, the animosity between species had ended in a series of bloody massacres. Kryder had been part of that era which explained to some degree his persistent brutality. It was decided during the first year of their world that each species would have a territory and each territory would be separated from the others with ditches and barbed wire. It had helped diminish a good portion of the violence, but the mutual dislike among species remained to this day.

  Humans visited Five Bridges by the thousands every night, using one of the five access points around the perimeter. They did so at their own risk. The FBI was rarely allowed into their world and dead humans were usually cremated before the evidence of their bodies could alert the U.S. authorities.

  Each species entered other territories under the same conditions. He was putting himself in danger by flying into Elegance. He wasn’t too concerned, though. He’d been battling a long time and if he had to fight some unknown enemy in the skies over Elegance, so be it.

  Heading east to Neil’s gated island community, he recalled the situation that had put him at odds with Neil.

  Grant had known the warlock almost as long as he’d been in Five Bridges. They’d both served on their respective Border Patrols and had become friends, at least before the drunken altercation occurred.

  The spell Neil had contrived that night had turned the woman’s head. She’d been ripe as hell and ready for plucking. Grant had excused himself to get some relief from too many beers. When he’d returned, Neil was kissing the bespelled woman.

  Grant had levitated like a bullet in Neil’s direction and hauled him out of the booth. The woman had shrieked. Neil had tried to throw a spell at Grant, but it hadn’t worked.

  Grant had plowed into him.

  A drunken brawl had ensued ending when Grant’s skull connected with the wood bar. He’d awakened when one of the owners threw a glass of water over his face. Shortly after, Trib forces had taken him to their nearby drunk tank where he’d passed out. Later, he’d awakened, smelled urine and vomited then passed out again. He’d spent the entire next day in the same cell, repeating the process.

  Good times.

  Ryan had collected him just after full dark.

  He hadn’t spoken to Neil in all that time.

  He still didn’t trust him completely because of those damn, highly illegal spells he’d employed, or tried to.

  Grant flew slowly, wondering how the hell this was going to work.

  He knew the island community in which Neil had bought an upscale property. Rumors had it the area had underground levels as well. Neil was one of the wealthiest men in Elegance and Natalie had helped get him there.

  Reaching the island, Grant hovered in the air above Neil’s modern home. Huge rocks and dozens of evergreens shaped the landscaping. There were stone pavers for paths, the occasional cactus, an absence of flowers. It was a man’s home.

  Tall sissoos and pines separated the various properties of which there were only six in this exclusive development. But as a group they were surrounded by a large moat with two small stone bridges at either end that connected them to nearby residential streets.

  He drew his cell from his pocket and texted Neil to let him know he’d arrived. He remained in the air a few yards away from the house and above the stone path.

  A half-minute later, Neil opened the front door and stepped onto the walkway. He wasn’t smiling and didn’t invite him in.

  Grant levitated down to the path. He was three yards away from Neil, uncertain if the warlock intended to try more of his spell-tricks.

  “Well, shit.” Neil glanced up at the sky then back at Grant.

  “What’s bugging you now?” Grant asked, irritated by his attitude.

  “It seems you found my house with no trouble at all.”

  Grant also looked up then finally understood. “You’ve got a disguising spell over your house.”

  “And you saw my property as though the spell didn’t exist.”

  “Guess I did.”

  Neil narrowed his gaze. “You’re experiencing a power surge, am I right?”

  “You could say that.” Grant took in Neil’s garb. He wore an odd, gray artist’s smock over leathers. He was pasty white with blue forming shadows beneath his eyes. Even so, he radiated power like the air currents of an electrical storm. “You don’t look so good.”

  “I’m for shit right now, no question. You’d better come in.” He seemed to weave on his feet as he turned and entered his house. He left the door wide which was the only welcome Grant was going to get.

  The interior of Neil’s home was like his landscaping, lots of stone everywhere even covering the entire face of the entrance wall. To the right was the living room and a massive stone fireplace.

  The floor was also made of dark gray stone tiles.

  A dining space and a kitchen opened up to the left beyond. It was a great-room with tall glass windows on the north and south walls overlooking both the front and back gravel-and-rock yards, as well as the moat.

  Wood tables eased back some of the hard, granite feel to the space. But the furniture was in black leather. The theme shouted its message. Beyond the moat was a park-like green belt with dozens of trees. But Grant had the sense this was more for protection than beauty.

  Grant knew that most wizards had an affinity with an earth element. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Neil was fully aligned with stone.

  He was forming the words to begin making amends for his
drunken behavior during their brawl, when Neil said, “I want to apologize for what happened at the White Flame Club. I did use a spell. It was a chump move. My only excuse is that I was drunk out of my mind.”

  Neil looking contrite shifted everything for Grant. He could even smile. “At least you didn’t spend the day in a drunk tank. I smelled like puke for a week afterward.”

  Neil tried to chuckle, but it turned into a groan and a wince. “You’ll have to excuse me.” He moved to a large leather chair next to the fireplace but didn’t sit down on the seat. Instead, he eased himself onto the broad, padded arm of the chair. His smock draped over the sides.

  A haunted, pained expression clung to Neil’s gray eyes.

  He was a striking man with narrow features, not unlike Ryan. His black hair hung in waves to his shoulders. He’d heard some of the female wolves say he was the best-looking warlock of them all.

  Right now, he looked like he’d been beat up.

  “You okay?”

  Neil gritted his teeth. “I’m going through the crucible of become a wizard. I’d heard it was bad and it is, almost as painful as going through the alter transformation.” He gestured to the assorted furniture in the space. “Please. Sit down.”

  Grant settled himself on the couch adjacent to Neil’s chair. He noticed a large cast-iron pot on the hearth. His brows rose.

  “I know,” Neil said, glancing at the fireplace as well. “A bit on-the-nose, but it speaks to me.” He sighed heavily then shifted his gaze to Grant. “Can I offer you a Scotch or a brandy? I’ll be having the latter.” He rose slowly. Grant now wished he’d followed Ryan’s advice and brought him a bottle of cognac.

  “Scotch is fine.”

  Neil walked slowly to an antique sideboard to the left of the fireplace. “I’ve needed an excuse and you’ll do.” He poured the drinks but drank his own down quickly then poured himself a second.

  As he brought the tumbler of Scotch back to Grant, he explained “We’re supposed to keep the alcohol to a minimum during this process. But I’ve been craving a fifth of anything for the last two hours.”