Keri Arthur: Fireborn

Who was out there, watching the proceedings from the shadows? That silent stranger again? Or someone else? And did they intend to do anything more than just watch?

I hoped not.

The vampires already in the parking lot and those I could sense moving around were more than enough to contend with. I didn’t need any more shit added to an already overloaded plate.

A vampire came out of the trees to my left and walked toward me. I booted up the laptop, typed in the password, then held it up as the vamp stopped in front of me. He was tall and thin, as most tended to be, with thick brown hair, an aristocratic nose, and a mouth that seemed locked in a permanent sneer. He smelled of garlic and earth—an odd combination that didn’t do a whole lot for the tremulous state of my stomach.

His fingers flew over the keyboard, his touch so light I barely felt the movement. After a moment, he stepped back and glanced at his boss.

“The file has not been touched.”

“Excellent. Bring the laptop to me.”

“Not so fast.” I snatched the computer away from the grasp of the vamp. “An equal exchange, please. And you”—I added, glancing at garlic breath—“can go back to the shadows, if you don’t mind.”

The vamp glanced at his boss, then retreated as requested. It didn’t make me feel any safer. “Now release Jackson.”

The cool-voiced vampire waved those two fingers again. The vamps holding Jackson released him and stepped back. Jackson slapped to the ground like so much bloodied meat and, for several seconds, didn’t move. Then, with a hiss of air that spoke of extreme pain, he rolled onto his back.

“I’m afraid,” the cool-voiced vamp said casually, “that your friend has suffered a broken arm and leg. It is, unfortunately, a far easier way to manage captives than any regular means of restraint.”

I swore under my breath. I should have guessed the bastards would do something like that .

“Then you need to step back.” I shoved the laptop into the backpack and swung the pack onto my shoulder. “Once I have Jackson, you can have the pack.”

After that, I could only hope that they would uphold their end of the deal. But even if they didn’t, we had more of a chance against them if we could at least make a stand together.

The cool-voiced vampire raised his hands and all three stepped back to the edge of the trees. Their easy compliance only ratcheted the tension and the fire singing through me.

I studied the nearby tree line for several seconds, wishing I had the ability to look beyond the shadows, wishing I could see who was watching, who was waiting. But that was an ability—like the dreams—not often found in phoenixes. And I briefly wondered, if I’d dreamed that this would be the end result of saving Sam, whether I’d have actually saved him.

Yes, that insane bit of me whispered, you would have.

I took a deep, somewhat shuddery breath; then, my grip tight on one of the backpack’s straps, I walked toward Jackson.

His gaze met mine as I neared, and the fury was richer in his bright eyes. “Damn it, Em, you shouldn’t be here.”

“If I were the sensible type, I wouldn’t be.” I stopped beside him, swung the backpack off my shoulder, and carefully placed it on the asphalt. As I did so, I sent the flames that sparked across my fingertips onto the pack, where they shimmered and danced but didn’t burn. Not yet, anyway.

“Destroy that backpack,” the cool-voiced vampire commented, “and you destroy any agreement we had.”

“The flames won’t destroy the pack. Not unless you attack.” I squatted down, keeping my gaze on the vamp as I said to Jackson, “I’m going to need your help to get us out of here. You up for that?”

“You bet your sweet ass I am,” he muttered. And I knew he was referring more to fighting the vamps than any toll the mere act of moving would have on him. Fae were a damn tough lot. He added, “Haul me up on the left side. It ain’t broken.”

To haul him up, I’d have to turn my back on the vampires—not something I was overly keen on doing, but it wasn’t like I had a whole lot of choice. “Tell me if one of them moves or disappears.”

“I will.”

I changed position, then gripped his raised hand. My gaze met his again and he nodded, briefly. With very little ceremony—but a whole lot of effort—I hauled him upright onto his good leg. He gritted his teeth and hissed, the sound long and pain filled. Sweat broke out across his brow and his skin suddenly looked ashen—not a great look on a fire Fae. I quickly shoved my shoulder under his and took most of his weight as he wobbled about. I slipped my other arm around his body. His heart was beating so hard it felt like someone was thumping my hand, and he was trembling violently. How he was even conscious, I had no idea.

“Now,” I said, just as much to the vampires as to Jackson, “we get out of here.”

“And the flames on the backpack?” the cool-voiced vampire inquired.

“Will retreat when we’re safe, not before.”

“You have until the trees. Release it then, or we will attack.”

“And what happens after I release the pack? We’re hardly safe in the trees.”

He raised an eyebrow, his expression mocking. “Would it matter if I promise that neither I nor any of those I brought to this meeting will attack?”

“It probably wouldn’t, but I’d like to hear it, all the same.”

“Then I so promise. We will not attack you.”

The slight emphasis he placed on “we” had my gaze going to the trees again. The cool-voiced vampire and his cronies might not attack, but whoever was hiding in those shadows more than likely would .

Still, it was a risk we had no choice but to take.

I headed for the trees and tried not to jar Jackson’s broken limbs too much—an impossible task given that he was forced to hop. After several minutes of doing so, he began to swear vehemently. I stopped immediately—which only caused another round of swearing.

“Damn it,” he said, between gritted teeth. “Just keep going.”

I did, moving as slowly as I could, trying to keep an eye on the vamps behind us as the awareness of the threat still hiding in the trees grew. To make matters worse, the dusk was fading and darkness would soon be upon us.

And darkness was the vampires’ ally, not ours.

But I couldn’t go any faster. Jackson was a big man, and it was taking everything I had to keep him upright. Sweat dribbled down my face and back, and the scent stung the sweet evening air until all I could smell was it and fear.

We inched along, slowly drawing closer to the trees. I glanced at the skies and hoped like hell Rory was watching. That he’d be ready.

The shadows reached for us, though their grasp was anything but comforting. Those shadows held dangerous secrets, and I wasn’t looking forward to their revelation.

One problem at a time, I reminded myself fiercely. And that, right now, was the vampires at our backs.

I looked over my shoulder. The cool-voiced vampire remained in the middle of the clearing, his arms crossed and his expression sitting somewhere between amusement and contempt.

Something was very definitely about to happen—and it wasn’t us getting free.

“That is far enough, Emberly Pearson. If you do not release the backpack from its flames, we will unfortunately be forced to attack.”

“Don’t do it,” Jackson muttered. “They’ll attack the minute they have the laptop.”

“And they’ll attack if they don’t get it,” I murmured. “But never fear. I do have a trick or two up my sleeve.”

“I hope they’re damn good ones, because we’re not exactly in a great state here. Or at least, I’m not.”