Baptism of Fire (Playing With Hellfire Book 1)

by Jessie Thomas

  “I mean, until fire investigation stole you away, but I’m not bitter or anything,” Bree said. Her eyes narrowed. “D’you work for the folks in arson?”

  Cassia was once again disgustingly smug. “Oh no,” she replied. Her hand gripped Bree’s for a moment too long to be comfortable. “Victoria and I met while she was at work. In fact, I’m helping her with a case. As a witness.”

  I should’ve been more peeved at her casual use of my full name, but I was distracted by the information she shared with Bree, inviting more questions than I wanted to lie about.

  Bree’s eyebrows furrowed. “Hope it’s nothing too serious.”

  “I’m afraid it is,” Cassia said. “I believe you lost a friend. A fellow firefighter.”

  “Moretti’s case?” Bree asked. “I thought they closed that a while back. Nix, they’ve got you on it? Isn’t that—?”

  I cut her off before she had the chance to ask about my emotional state. I didn’t know exactly what I wanted to craft an explanation around. “It’s not really—they’re trying to reopen it,” I lied. “A few witnesses showed up, me included.”

  “Yeah, well, it was weird. I don’t how they do things over there, but it felt like they closed it real quick. The whole thing was weird,” Bree said. “Whatever’s happening, it’s got everyone spooked. I bet they’ve got you working overtime with all the activity lately. It’s a damn free-for-all these days.”

  I rubbed at the back of my neck. “Always is.”

  “Ugh, sorry. Enough about that. It’s Davis and his damn potholes that got me all riled up. Nobody wants to talk about work when we’re here to get trashed on free liquor and have a night off. We deserve this. The department owes us.”

  Cassia seemed disinterested in our conversation now that she wasn’t the one putting on a show. I tossed a reluctant look her way. I couldn’t take any more of her smugness. “Is Ally here?”

  Bree shook her head. “No,” she answered. “She was going to. I mean, she wanted to, but with everything going on…” She gestured vaguely.

  Good, I thought, though I kept it from slipping off my tongue. That was one less confrontation, one less person in harm’s way.

  “I don’t blame her,” I said. “I thought about staying home, too.”

  Something flickered beyond the edges of the room, shooting right through my senses and teasing the back of my neck with a cold sweat. My throat dried up. My body remembered the heat of an incendiary bearing down on me. The dread that trailed behind it turned me hollow and chilled. I hoped none of it registered on my face.

  “But you’re here,” Bree was saying, though now she sounded far away, like I was backsliding into a tunnel. “That’s what counts. That’s always what matters most. Baby steps, right?”

  “Yeah,” I said, but I wasn’t so sure that I’d said it or if I’d been able to keep the panic from spilling over. Cassia’s hand pressed into the small of my back. I imagined it like a betrayal, imagined her manicured nails forming claws that dripped crimson.

  But it wasn’t. Not yet.

  “Let’s get a drink, shall we?” She’d felt it, too, though I wondered if she’d known he was here long before I did.

  “Right.” I cleared my throat to keep the shakiness out. “I’ll find you later, okay? I promise, no pothole stories.”

  Bree laughed as we pushed into the flow of people again. I couldn’t find the strength to return even a parting smile. Searching the faces around us, darting from one corner to another, I singled out every person clothed in black. Every shock of blond hair. Every uncertain movement.

  Where are you, you bastard?

  “Easy, now,” Cassia whispered in my ear. She stood behind me, her hand still resting on my back as we maneuvered toward the bar. “Will you settle down? I can hear your heartbeat.”

  My jaw clenched. “Stop.”

  Javier was already leaning against the thick, mahogany beam of the countertop, ice rattling around his empty glass. I moved from Cassia’s prying fingertips, but she forced her way in between us.

  “Where is he?” His hard stare landed on her, a trace of wariness lingering after it.

  “Here, obviously.”

  “That wasn’t the question,” I pointed out.

  “Close,” she relented.

  At that, Javier peered out into the room and I followed him. It wasn’t immediately obvious how the atmosphere in the room shifted. But it did, the subtlest of hints giving away the pyros among us. A hitch in someone’s breath. A shiver. A quiet, knowing terror.

  Would they stay?

  Brimstone coasted on a gust of air, and it was like I’d been trapped in the middle of the smoke and ash again. The shadow descended. I saw him, a smudge on the outskirts of my vision, an ethereal heat blowing across the side of my face. With my pulse jackhammering away at my temples, I turned to find him standing inches from me. His lean, scrawny body bent toward the counter, bony fingers splayed on the surface.

  He swept a tuft of flaxen hair out of his eyes and grinned at me like we were old friends.

  “Expecting someone?”

  His voice growled deeply, not as clipped and precise as Cassia’s speech. He’d said all of three words to me in the times we’d crossed paths, his voice never seared into my memory like everything he’d done. His tone carried the same annoying infernal drawl that was probably soaked in centuries of inflated ego and rampant, unchecked arrogance.

  Marcus drummed his fingers on the counter, an onyx stone in his ring gleaming under the dimmed lights. “Do you mind if I order a drink before we talk business?”

  25

  The monster had a taste for top shelf bourbon.

  Go fucking figure.

  We watched him—without a word spoken between us—flag down a bartender and order like it was any other night. Like we were back in Hell’s Gate and he had the run of the place. He sipped at it thoughtfully, one elbow propped against the counter, swirling the dark amber liquid in the glass. Up close, it struck me how much more monstrous he looked than most of the other incendiaries I’d seen. And it wasn’t his killing spree that clouded my vision. His face was skeletal, like his skin was stretched too thin over his bones, like the mortal illusion wouldn’t hold.

  “Victoria.” Of all the people to call me that, it sounded downright unholy on his lips. I didn’t mean that in a good way. Those dead eyes burning with a cold fire lifted from the glass cradled in his hand and impaled me to the spot. He inhaled. “Did you have as much fun at Hell’s Gate as I did? Word on the street is, you made quite the impression. No wonder you’ve found yourself in such fine company.”

  Marcus’ darkening gaze slid behind me to Cassia. He took another drink, reflecting. The casual way he held himself didn’t seem right—I’d thought he would be more intense. “You looked like shit when I first saw you, bleeding and all covered in ashes.”

  It took every ounce of strength to hold my tongue and not sink my fist into his nose. And he knew it. Javier did, too, because he slipped his hand into mine, lacing his fingers between. He gave my hand a gentle squeeze. Be careful.

  “That was your handiwork, asshole.”

  “Neither of us came away from it unscathed.” He flashed the hand still wrapped in some kind of bandage; black to match his tailored suit. And his soul, if he had one. Maybe his blood would’ve been a better comparison.

  That couldn’t be right. Still healing weeks later, when Cassia’s busted lip was undetectable. Was there a scar? I thought demons were invincible to most things, especially a little fire thrown by an enraged and inexperienced pyromancer.

  I couldn’t dwell on the implications that it’d been Hellfire. That left so many unanswered questions, things I didn’t even want to consider. Not right now.

  “But you’re still breathing,” I muttered. “Unfortunately.”

  “Aren’t you?” he challenged.

  “I don’t care about me. It’s not about that,” I said. “It’s what you stole, and what you keep taking.” />
  “I woke you up, Victoria,” Marcus ruminated. His tone suggested that he was somehow proud of that. “You should be kissing my ass, not trying to extinguish me. This could be so much easier for all of us if you stopped fighting a battle you’re not going to win.”

  “Please,” I scoffed. “I don’t owe you a damn thing.”

  “You do, actually.” He drained the last of the bourbon and settled the glass next to him. “I could’ve had my pick of anyone here tonight—the department certainly isn’t lacking in pyromancers. But it’s you, Victoria, that I’m interested in. The one who got away. You’ve got my attention, just like you wanted. And I think you’ve held my sister hostage long enough.”

  “What?” I asked at the same time Javier repeated it aloud, stunned, “Your sister?”

  The floor seemed to sway underneath me, and I thought for a moment it might cave in. I turned sharply to glower at Cassia, who kept her face impassive and unreadable.

  So, this wasn’t just some dispute between two powerful demons or a squabble for power among longtime business associates.

  This was a full-on sibling rivalry. And Cassia wanted to use us to murder her goddamn brother so she wouldn’t get her own hands dirty.

  Marcus laughed as the shock registered on my face. “She didn’t tell you.”

  “No,” I answered. “She conveniently left that part out.”

  How did that one slip past us? They were virtually all blonde, perfect, and arrogant, so how could I have possibly made the familial connection?

  “You might be better off for it,” he said. “See, I never wanted her involved in any of this—it was my side project—but she’s always been too curious for her own good. She can’t leave well enough alone. Now it’s gotten her into some trouble this time.” He leaned over to fix his dark gaze on his sister. “What have we learned, Cassia? Don’t go shoving your nose into my business. I could’ve left you, you know. I could’ve just let them kill you.”

  “Oh, do shut up, Marcus,” Cassia grumbled. “We both know your threats are emptier than your soul. Father would be livid if you were the one to get me killed.”

  Real nice family.

  “Well, that won’t be a problem for me if he doesn’t find out.” Marcus’ deadly gaze narrowed. “And livid? The two of you are an entire realm apart in that tower. You’ll see whatever you want to see. It’s pathetic. I’d feel sorry for you if I could muster up the sympathy,” he offered her a wry exhale, “but I don’t care enough to waste the effort.”

  I thought about how much Gemma would hate this.

  Cassia wanted to lunge for her brother’s jugular. I felt the swift coil of demonic fire and splayed my arm across her abdomen to keep her back.

  “Listen, I’d love to just let you two have at it right here, but if we’re going to do business, then let’s get it over with. You wanted to talk? Let’s go.”

  “Right.” Marcus straightened up, tugging at the velvet lapels of his suit jacket. “Go home, Cassia. You’ve caused enough trouble for me. I think you’re finished here, now that you’ve proven yourself to be even more useless than I previously thought.”

  Before Cassia could protest with some acerbic reply, I cut her off. “She’s not going anywhere.”

  “Don’t be like that, Victoria. What the hell do you need her for? Those wards you’ve got on her are degrading by the minute. Even I can see that.”

  “She stays,” Javier insisted. “Let’s take this someplace else, yeah?”

  I peered around the room, trying to find the rest of our team in the crowd. They’d dropped out of sight, so I could only hope that they felt the surge of his arrival. His patience with us wouldn’t hold out for long. If we couldn’t keep him here, who knows when we’d get another chance?

  Marcus ordered another bourbon to go and motioned with a tilt of his head for us to follow him. Javier and I traded a tense look before we trailed after him, moving carefully through the crowd. Everyone seemed to give Marcus ample room, as if his insufferable swagger, expensive clothes, and bone structure demanded it. It was easier to separate the pyros, then—the scathing looks and horrified recognition, the quiet, muffled gasps and the distance they put between themselves and the demon who’d crashed their party.

  Cassia forced herself between the two of us, knocking my hand loose from Javier’s reassuring grip. A shiver crept up my neck when the heat we’d built up was lost. Cassia had noticed it. I ignored the sidelong glance she tried to level me with. I was too furious at her to acknowledge any thought she might’ve had. The wards that had kept her chained had started to wither, but she stayed blissfully silent, rubbing the inside of her wrists like she was attempting to work them loose.

  My knees wobbled once the thrum of conversation became distant background noise. The music muted through walls gave the place a strange, isolating quality. Marcus led us further into the building down a long hallway teeming with wait staff. Most of them were too busy dealing with the madness that came with catering to the majority of the city’s overworked firefighters to notice his nonchalance. For all I knew, this place could’ve been incendiary-owned.

  “Were you just going to keep that secret to yourself?” I whispered, keeping a watchful eye on the back of Marcus’ head.

  Cassia remained tight-lipped. She continued to rub at her wrists like a prisoner who’d just been freed from constricting metal handcuffs.

  “I’ll take that as a no. Real convenient for you, then.”

  “It’s nothing personal, Fireblood,” Cassia answered. “It doesn’t change anything.”

  She watched my face, cautious, hoping her intent was clear. The damage had already been done; whatever paper-thin trust I had was gone. Everything she’d told us about her could’ve been a calculated lie. I had the worst feeling that she was letting us walk straight into a trap she’d laid the groundwork for with her brother.

  “I think it does.”

  “Should’ve told us the truth from the beginning,” Javier said.

  “Do you think you would have kept me alive? Because I don’t.”

  She was probably right about that.

  Marcus hooked a sharp left to the back rooms that were normally reserved for conferences or private events. It was a maze back here, a confusing tangle wood paneling and brick, far more secluded than I was comfortable with. The PFFD had bought everything else out for the night, and from a cursory glance it looked like these rooms were being used for storage.

  A waiter intercepted us, his arms laden with cardboard boxes. Marcus did nothing but stand there with his glass dangling casually from his fingertips, even when the boxes almost toppled onto the floor between them.

  “Whoa—hey, you can’t be back here, man,” he said, then nudged a box slightly to his right to find the rest of us. His weary sigh said it all. “These rooms are off-limits tonight. I don’t make the rules around here, I just enforce them.”

  “Well, tonight’s your lucky night, my friend, because tonight there are no rules for people like me.”

  He slipped his hand inside the breast pocket of his jacket. I thought it was just a trick; that the poor guy, who couldn’t have been more than a sophomore in college, would be incinerated by a quick blast of Hellfire. But Marcus only retrieved a wad of folded bills between his index and middle finger. He tucked it into the front pocket of the waiter’s dress shirt, making a show of patting it delicately.

  “That should cover it. I think we’re all good here.”

  The waiter nodded and scurried off without saying another word. Marcus heaved one of the glass doors open, ushering the three of us inside. My pulse raced so fast I could feel it in my temples, the anxious rhythm rushing through my ears. I rubbed a slick palm against my pants and curled my fingers into a fist hard enough to leave welts from my nails in my skin. He seated himself at the only table in the room that had a tablecloth draped over it. The rest of them were bare or folded away, stacks of unused chairs and wooden crates pushed into the furthest corners.
>
  He took a thoughtful sip of his drink, allowing it to settle on his tongue. “Have a seat, Victoria.” He drew out the syllables to my name like maybe he owned them.

  Javier and I hadn’t moved from inside the door. I didn’t want to leave his side for the company of a demon. Much less the demon who’d murdered a good, innocent man. A man who had been my brother.

  When my reluctant steps finally led me to the chair across from him, Javier stuck close, planting himself firmly behind me. Cassia stayed back a little, silently fuming. I thought she would unleash all of that rage she clearly had harbored for her brother and take out this whole building—and us—with it.

  Marcus made a sound, a sardonic exhale through his nose. He traced the rim of the glass with his thumb.

  “I was so intrigued by what you’d done to me. You pissed me off, Victoria, and most people who do that…well, they don’t get meetings like this,” he told me, the cadence of his speech at a leisurely pace. “Then I thought of the potential you’d have. Someone mortal who could walk between both worlds—fire and Hellfire at your command—do you understand what sort of power you’d have?”

  “I don’t know what you think I did,” I replied, glaring at him from across the table, “but if you think it’s power that I’m interested in, then you’re angling for the wrong person.”

  “What do you think these people could give you? This city was never yours. Never will be. It’ll always belong to the Hellfire that created it, and you can play a part in that if you choose your path wisely. A part where you’ll get out with your life.”

  He crossed one leg over the other. “Given our complicated history with the Phoenixes, I should’ve killed you. There’s enough reason for it—I’m not lacking in anger for all your family’s done. But neither are you, now, so I think that makes us even. This is your last chance. My final offer. I’d take it if I were you. My father wouldn’t be so forgiving.”

  It killed me that he knew my parents’ pasts better than I did, that he’d always known the history my aunt had kept hidden from me.