Keri Arthur - Fireborn

“Decide, Emberly. We’re running out of time.”

What the hell? I thought, and fell on the side of insanity.

We were deep in the trees by the time the helicopter clattered overhead. It swept over the meadow several times, then moved on, doing similar checks of nearby areas.

“You’re not going to be able to hide a red pickup in the trees for very long. Sooner or later, they will spot it.”

“I know.” He was outside, leaning against the roof of his branch-covered truck, his gaze on the skies. “And I don’t think we should evade them for long. I just wanted time to plan.”

“There’s no need to plan,” I said bluntly. “Our next step is obvious. We have to find and talk to this Marcus Radcliffe the third.”

He looked at me. The smile that teased his lips was decidedly sexy. “At the risk of repeating myself, where the hell have you been all my life?”

“Enjoying a peaceful life,” I said. “And given they’re probably trying to pinpoint us through our cell phones right now, shouldn’t we get moving?”

“Yep.” He jumped into the truck, started it up, then drove through the trees and out onto the road. Once there, he floored it. Within no time, we were back on the Calder Freeway cruising toward Melbourne.

“Okay, as I said earlier, Radcliffe is a hard man to get close to. He does, however, have two vices—gambling and women. He’s a regular at Crown’s VIP gaming lounges and always finishes the night with a lovely lady on his arm.”

“I am not going to be one of those lovely ladies. I don’t mind investigating bad guys, but I’m not going to bed them.”

“And I wouldn’t ask you to,” he said, his annoyed tone softened by the amusement teasing his lips. “Especially not before I’ve had a chance to do so.”

I smiled. “And here I was thinking that particular goal had gone out the window.”

His gaze came to mine, and the rawness of desire so evident in those green depths had me struggling to breathe. Pinpricks of sweat broke out across my skin and the flames within surged, eager to taste the heat of him, to draw it deep inside and savor its sweetness.

“Trust me,” he said softly. “That particular goal is stronger than ever.”

I resisted the urge to fan myself and pulled my gaze away from his as I tried to get my breathing under control.

“So how are we going to separate Radcliffe from his people?” I hesitated, and grinned as I added, “Or should that be, how am I going to separate him?”

“I suspect all you’ll need to do is wear something sexy and offer him a room number. It’s happened before, from what the croupiers have said.” He grimaced. “Of course, the problem with that is that we first have to get you away from your police tail.”

“Let me worry about that,” I said, knowing our biggest problem wouldn’t be me escaping a tail, but rather surviving the explosion of anger from the man who would undoubtedly be waiting when I returned home. “Let’s just concentrate on the finer details of ensnaring Radcliffe.”

Jackson pulled to a stop outside the Ascot Vale railway station and gave me a somewhat dubious look. “Are you sure you don’t want me to drive you home?”

I shook my head. “I know Sam. He’ll drag you away, lock you up, and interrogate the shit out of you. And that won’t be at all conducive to our plans.”

“But he can’t legally retain me for too long, not without charging me.”

“The law doesn’t actually define what is a reasonable amount of time here in Victoria,” I said, “and, as I said, Sam’s not regular police. He’s part of some sort of special unit. I suspect the restraints on what they can and can’t do are somewhat lax.”

Especially given they were apparently killing the red plague people willy-nilly and had threatened to do the same to anyone who knew too much about them.

Jackson still didn’t look happy. I leaned across the seat and kissed him. It was meant to be just a short, friendly peck, but it turned into something a whole lot more fiery.

“Damn, woman,” he said, his breathing harsh on my lips. “We really need to find some time for ourselves.”

“Tonight.” I quickly opened the door and got out of the truck before the urge to do more than just kiss him became too hard to ignore.

He drove off fast—as if he, too, needed to get away before he gave in to what burned unsatisfied between us—and I made my way home.

Sam was waiting near the front doors. No surprise there.

“Just what the fuck did you think you were doing?” he all but exploded the minute I got close. “Losing our tail was bad enough, but then to take out the red cloak like that—”

“Are we going to do this in the middle of the street,” I interrupted calmly, “or would you at least like some privacy and a cup of coffee?”

“Privacy and coffee,” he growled, and headed for the front entrance.

I stepped in front of him and pressed one hand against his chest, stopping him. Once, his body heat would have flowed through my fingertips as sweetly as a kiss. Now, though, there was nothing. It was as if all his heat had been sucked away by whatever had happened to him in the last year.

“I told you before, I don’t want you near my apartment. Not any more than necessary.” I nodded toward the semi-vacant Portside. “We go over there, or we go back to your station.”

“Portside,” he snapped, then motioned sharply for me to lead the way.

He followed me across, and it was all I could do not to rub my arms against the fear creeping across my flesh. It wasn’t just the force of his anger; it was the intensity of the darkness within it. It felt like he was barely containing it.

And yet, once again, there was also a tiny sliver of emotion that wasn’t dark or cold, but rather one that spoke of concern. Or was I simply feeling that because I so desperately wanted it to be true?

I selected a table away from the other patrons and we ordered our drinks when the waitress came.

“Okay,” he said, once she’d gone. “Explain what the hell you thought you were doing.”

“No,” I said. “Not until you start answering some questions yourself.”

“Emberly—” he growled, that darkness within him crowding even closer.

“No.” I crossed my arms and met his gaze calmly, although I was far from calm on the inside. “I want to know what’s going on, Sam. I want to know why those things are still after me. I want to know how the hell they can even come after me, given they’re supposedly infected by a vampirelike virus and should have been crisped by daylight. But most of all, I want to know who the fuck you’re working for.”

He stared at me silently. Though there was little change in his expression, I had a notion that a battle was being waged deep within him. I waited, hoping the right side won. Hoping that darkness didn’t .

Eventually, he leaned back in his chair and blew out a breath. It was a sound of frustration and annoyance combined. “I work for the Paranormal Investigations Team—or PIT, as it is more commonly known. We sit between the police and the military, and we’re sent in to deal with problems that involve the paranormal.”

“Define problems.”

He shrugged. “Any activity involving paranormal beings that sits either within or without the law and provides a potential threat to humanity.”

Any activity? That suggested they had scarily wide-ranging powers. Even more than I’d suspected. “How long have you been with them?”

He hesitated. “Just over a year.”