Keri Arthur - Fireborn

“You do rather look like shit.” I came to a halt. Tension—or maybe it was pain—rippled through Jackson’s muscular frame. “But the big question is, are you shit that can use flame?”

His snort was one of amusement, but it quickly became a groan. “God, don’t make me do that. But yeah, I can.”

“Good, because there’s something in the trees and it’s getting ready to attack.” My gaze met the cool-voiced vampire’s again, and I raised my voice as I added, “Remember your promise, vampire.”

And with that, I waved a hand, the gesture grander than it needed to be, but I had to be sure Rory spotted it. The flames skittered away from the backpack and quickly faded into the ether of the evening.

The cowboy stepped forward, picked up the pack, and withdrew the laptop. The pack itself was contemptuously thrown to one side and skidded underneath one of the parked cars.

“Thank you for upholding your end of our deal. And now—”

I had no idea what else he said, because his words were lost in an explosion of flame. They sprang from the earth itself, a wild and tempestuous storm that burned with all the colors of creation.

Rory, connecting with the great mother to provide a barrier around the parking lot to keep the vampires contained.

“That,” Jackson said heavily, “is one hell of a trick to have up your sleeve.”

“Yeah, but it only accounts for one problem, not the other. Let’s get out of here while we still can.”

We moved on as quickly as Jackson was able. The power of the flames that danced at our backs rippled across my skin, drawing answering sparks that shot into the shadows like little tiny comets. Under normal circumstances, I would have tried to control the output, if only because such a show gave away our position. But it was pointless to do so here; whoever— whatever —was out there knew exactly where we were, sparkly show or not.

Besides, between the sparks and the fire at our backs, Jackson surely had enough fire to amplify and use.

Jackson’s breathing became more labored the farther we went into the trees. He didn’t say anything, but the trembling was far worse, and his body was drenched in sweat. I couldn’t see him making it to the car. And while I could drag him, I certainly wouldn’t be able to get him up and over the fence. And Rory needed all his strength to maintain that fire barrier.

“It’s not that far now,” I muttered. “You have to keep going, Jackson.”

“Don’t fucking worry about me.” The words were little more than short, sharp expulsions of air. “Worry about the things—”

Something hit us side-on, with such force it tore Jackson from my grasp and sent me stumbling into the trees. I crashed into the trunk of a tree and crumpled to a heap at its base, seeing stars and fighting for breath. Heat exploded across the air, accompanied by the sharp smell of eucalyptus as the trees around me burst into flame. I groaned, rolled onto my back, and forced my eyes open.

And saw, in the dancing gleam of fire, Jackson—on his back, flames shooting from both his good hand and his body as he fought to keep a snarling, writhing, red-cloaked figure away from his neck.

Red cloaks . . . Holy fuck, the red cloaks were working with the vampires.

The thought quickly died as several of them appeared in my line of vision. Their unscarred faces were twisted, their mouths open, as if screaming, though no sound came out. I swore and scrambled upright, backing away fast and calling to the fire within. I was halfway through the change when they hit me and sent me flying. I crashed to the ground with a grunt—a sound I repeated as the bastards flung themselves on top of me and began tearing at whatever remaining bit of flesh they could find with wickedly sharp nails and teeth. A scream tore up my throat, but it was lost to the roar of flames as I became full spirit. The red cloaks burned, but they didn’t seem to care, tearing and biting at flesh that no longer existed.

And they sure as hell weren’t burning fast enough for my liking.

My flames became incandescent. The red cloaks screamed then, but the sound was quickly cut off as their flesh cindered and their bones became little more than ash, which the force of my fires blew away. I flowed upright and arrowed toward Jackson. The red cloak he held was little more than a fleshy torch, but again the creature didn’t seem to care. Two others tore at Jackson’s legs, taking little notice of his efforts to kick them away or the flames that were searing their flesh. I flicked a ribbon of fire around their necks, drew the noose tight, then ripped them away from him, rising upward and dragging them with me, high into the treetops. They kicked and screamed and fought my rope, but there was only one way they were going to get free—and that was when my noose burned right through their flesh and separated their heads from their bodies. I lashed my fiery rope to the trunk of the tree, then swirled back down and grabbed the other red cloak. Him I simply flung at the nearest tree, then tied securely with another ribbon of fire.

More red cloaks came at us. I twisted away from them, the movement so swift my flames trailed behind me like a comet’s tail. I threw up a wall of fire between them and Jackson, then reached for the earth mother. Felt the trembling in the ground underneath me as she responded. Then her energy exploded through me, a wild force that this time would not be contained or in any way directed. But it wrapped almost lovingly around the five red cloaks and cindered them in an instant.

Then it retreated, leaving me shaken and back in flesh form. I scrubbed a trembling hand across my face, smearing wetness, then forced myself upright and staggered across to Jackson.

His arm was torn and bleeding, and there were chunks of flesh missing from his legs. But he forced himself upright with his one good arm and said, “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

“No,” I bit back, my gaze skating through the shadows. The red cloaks hadn’t finished with us yet; of that I was sure. “Not before you take my fire into yourself and burn the virus from your body.”

“Em, now is not —”

“You were bitten by red cloaks,” I reminded him fiercely. “And no one knows if the Fae are affected by it. The only thing I’m sure of is that I’m not . As a fire Fae, you should be capable of taking in the fires of a phoenix without being cindered.”

“I guess death by flame is a hell of a lot better than a descent into madness.” He hesitated. “Have you ever tried anything like this before? Heard of anything like this being tried before?”

“No and no.”

“That’s what I was afraid of.” He took a deep breath and released it. “You need to straighten my leg before we can attempt this. If I can chase the virus from my system through your flames, then I sure as hell can heal other wounds as well.”

I glanced at his leg. It was sitting at an odd angle, with a ragged piece of bone protruding through bloodied flesh. It wasn’t going to be easy to straighten it—for him or me.

But then, moving with it in this state couldn’t have been pleasant, either.

I turned, but moved too quickly and had to slam a hand down to stop my face from planting itself into the dirt. I waited till the slight bout of dizziness eased, then, a little more cautiously, moved to the other end of Jackson’s body.

“You ready?” I said as I gripped his foot.

He nodded, his expression grim. I didn’t give him any warning, just simply did it. It ripped a scream from his throat, and the sound echoed through the trees. Somewhere in the distance I thought I heard laughter and wondered if it was the cool-voiced vampire or someone else.