Pyromancist Read online

  Clelia scoffed. “I’m short and pale and my eyes are too big for my face.” She glanced at Maya’s body. “I don’t have curves or muscles. I don’t have any illusions about my looks.”

  Maya arched a perfect eyebrow. “I’m sure Joss will challenge you on that statement.”

  Clelia felt the blood rush to her face again and looked away. “And I’m sure we’re not here to discuss our looks.”

  “I’m not going to interrogate you. Joss strictly forbade it, so relax.”

  Clelia glanced back at her slowly. “Then why are we having this conversation?”

  Maya shrugged. “Small talk.” She flicked at invisible crumbs on her pants, as if brushing Clelia’s comment away. “Are you hungry?” There was a hint of conspiracy in her tone.

  “No.”

  “There’s left-over cassoulet in the kitchen. And ice cream.”

  “Why are you suddenly being so nice?” Clelia said.

  “Because I know what a terrible cook Joss is. What did he feed you? Pizza?”

  “His food wasn’t bad. I just don’t have an appetite.”

  “Look, I’m going to be honest with you. Joss told me you’re not eating. He’s worried. You need carbs today to counteract the side effect of the drug Joss gave you. If you prefer, I can cook you some pasta.” She grinned. “I’d really like to get Joss off my ass.”

  Clelia blinked. “I can’t eat right now. Thank you, anyway.”

  Maya sighed. “Sure. Is there anything else you need?”

  “I want to know that my animals are taken care of.”

  “I gave you my word. The last time I went to your house, they nearly ripped me apart. Joss seems to have better success with those wolves. Don’t worry. I’ll make sure that he goes.”

  With that, Maya got up. “I’ll leave you. Rest if you want. Sleep.” She looked up at the ceiling, as if contemplating the weather. Just then, Clelia heard the noise of the engine and felt the vibration as the machines kicked into action, readying to propel them forward.

  “You’re free to move around as long as the boat is in motion. If you jump while the engines are running, you’ll be pulled underneath the keel and mauled to mince by the blades. She’s a powerful vessel. At full speed, we’ll be traveling at twenty-four knots. If the boat’s not moving, you have to say in the cabin, or in the lounge. One of us will be around to make sure you follow the rules. Lucky for you, that’s the only rule.” Maya moved to the cabin door. “Call me if you need anything, otherwise I’ll come back in an hour.”

  Maya closed the door behind her. Clelia remained seated on the bed. She was contemplating her situation. She should be going upstairs to explore the deck, looking for possible opportunities of escape, but she was frightened to face the team members. Cain, especially, put her on edge. Standing in front of him, it had felt as if he could see right through her. She had been no more than a trembling, transparent jellyfish. Before she could summon enough courage to leave the confines of her room, a soft knock sounded on the door. Not waiting for an invitation to enter, it opened to reveal the broad form of Josselin. Posing in the frame, both his physical and emotional presence overwhelming, he made the cabin seem smaller.

  He closed the door and moved to her. “Do you get seasick?”

  She gaped at him. “Honestly, Josselin. I grew up in a boat.”

  “So did I.”

  “And you get sick?”

  “Every time.”

  “You don’t look very ill.”

  “I take tablets.”

  She nodded, her words all dried up.

  He sat down next to her. “Erwan will come.”

  “Unless he’s a magician, which he isn’t, he has no way of knowing where to even start looking for me. You’re mistaken. He won’t come.”

  “He’ll know,” Josselin said patiently. “I’ve planted enough discreet messages with his loyal friends around town.”

  Clelia frowned. “And what if he doesn’t?”

  A look passed in his eyes.

  “You can’t keep me indefinitely,” she said. “He won’t find me. He won’t come. At some stage,” her voice quivered, “you’re going to have to let me go or...”

  Josselin’s steel eyes darkened a shade. “Is that what you really want to believe? That I’ll kill you?”

  She looked away and wrapped her arms around herself. His hand on her shoulder startled her.

  “Do I frighten you?” he said, his voice sounding pained.

  It was far from frightening. It was a memory etched into the very DNA of her being. It was a need that, if she acknowledged it, would blossom and grow to something huge, something insatiable and incurable.

  His fingers found her chin and moved her head back to him. “Time is not on our side. You have to help me to keep you safe, Clelia.”

  “And how am I supposed to do that?” she said, licking her dry lips.

  “Help me to find him.”

  “Help you to arrest him, you mean. You know I can’t do that.”

  “I’m not asking you to betray him. I’m asking you to help me find the truth.”

  His hand brushed over her chin and up her jawline to twist a strand of hair around his finger. His touch was disarming, but she tried not to show the reaction he had caused.

  “I don’t believe you,” she said. “This is bigger than just the fires or you chasing a criminal, and we both know it.”

  “Yes, little witch, this is much bigger. Just how big, you have no idea.”

  He held her gaze as his hand flattened over her cheek, his expression changing into one of possession and longing. He wiped a thumb over her bruised lip and traced it down to the blue marks on her neck.

  “Does it hurt?” he said.

  “No.” It was only a whisper. She couldn’t manage more. His touch stole her breath.

  Knowing she had to get away from his hands before she did something stupid, she inched back. Her retreat seemed to flare a new kind of determination in Josselin as he moved to her with the measured stance of a feline hunter. He pushed her body down onto the narrow bed with his, not keeping his weight off her this time as he took her face between his hands and peered into her eyes, as if searching for her soul.

  “I’m so fucking sorry,” he said.

  His unpredictable action frightened her, but it had also made her body come alive with an instant need.

  Swallowing, she said, “It’s all right. It was an accident.”

  Those silver eyes of his swam with intense emotion. “Say you forgive me.”

  “I forgive you,” she said softly, not sure she could resist him if he carried on torturing her with the proximity of his body.

  Now his expression seemed wild, just as she remembered him before he had left town. Josselin was so mercurial.

  “Say it like you mean it.”

  She touched his cheek. “You’re forgiven.”

  He closed his eyes briefly. When he opened them again, they had darkened.

  “I want the truth, Clelia,” he said, his breathing strained.

  He pushed into her and she caught her breath as his erection pressed on her tummy.

  “Ah, that whisper of air is a truth in itself.” He rotated his hips, pinning her down not just with his body but also with his ever-changing eyes. “Do you feel that? Do you have the same reaction too?”

  His hand moved down her neck, stroking lightly over her breast and belly to cup the female heat that gathered and pooled under his palm.

  “I can run my fingers over your naked flesh to find out, but I’m too much of a demon to risk it.” He squeezed softly, making her breath catch. “If I lay my hands on your bare skin I may not be able to stop, so I need you to tell me if you remember me like I remember you. Did you think of me, as I thought of you? Do you dream of me, as I dream of you? I feel like I know you, as if I knew your lips even before our first kiss. All this time, I’ve savored your sweet blood on my tongue. I couldn’t kiss you, then. You were much too young to kiss. Too pure. Yo
u’ve always been too good for a man like me, so tell me that I’m crazy and tell me to go away.”

  She gasped at his confession, and again, louder, when he moved and she felt his cock begging entrance into her body. It was impossible to think.

  “Ah...” He groaned. “That sweet intake of air through your lips. It makes me think that you want me.”

  “Joss–”

  His name was a sigh, and before the word was out, he caught it. He swallowed the syllables, his lips to hers, not lightly, but passionately.

  She opened up to him. Her lips parted for his tongue as her legs parted for his body. She let him inside her heart. If it hadn’t been for their clothes, she would have let him inside her body too. She shaped her lips to his kiss, following his lead and making his passion her own. Her body had a rhythm that matched that of her heart, her legs wrapping around him as she showed him the depth of her desire, passion unrequited and locked away for too many years finding its way through her now, revealing her soul and her truth, the unmasked verity he had asked her for.

  His hips rotated against hers, his body crushing her, molding her, one hand pulling her thigh higher over his ass while the other gripped her hair, holding her to him as if he was afraid she would escape.

  Whispers and moans, male and female resonance heating the small space, filled her ears and the moment. The erotic sounds closed in around her until nothing else existed but Josselin’s breathing, his taste, the smell of his skin, and the heat of his pulsing breath. The ebb and flow of their bodies drove a tide in her, a wave building for the crush. She had dreamt of this for so long and now that it was happening, she gave herself over without hesitation.

  If Josselin ever learned the truth, he’d also learn that it wasn’t Erwan he wanted, but her. He’d be the hunter, and she the prey, but she refused to think of it. She willed herself only to focus on the fervor she felt in their bodies.

  She dug her fingers into his shoulders, silently cursing the fabric that prevented her from feeling his skin. She wanted nothing between them. She pushed up into him, arching her back and her neck. Josselin cursed. His lips left her mouth to seek the flesh of her throat. She offered it gladly, would have given him her very blood had he been the vampire she had suspected him of being. His hand cradled her neck. His fingers wrapped around it gently, possessively, while his other hand moved down between their bodies to cup the apex of her need. A whimper left her mouth, and as if the verbal confirmation of her ecstasy was fuel on his fire, Josselin increased the pressure of his caress. His thumb massaged her clit in circular movements, causing the wave to finally collapse and push her over the edge with its force. She cried out as her muscles tensed and contracted, her legs closing around him while her pelvis sought his, aware of the act being incomplete and his need hanging.

  “God, yes,” he said, his arms going around her, under her back, pulling her so tight against him that her breath caught.

  It was hard to believe that she could feel as she did, without shedding a piece of clothing.

  “Ah, God, Clelia,” he said, raking his teeth down her neck, biting softly into the flesh of her shoulder.

  She panted underneath him, feeling deliciously satisfied and dissatisfied simultaneously, wanting more and feeling like she had it all at the same time. She started to feel the strain of his weight, and when she wiggled, he lifted himself on his elbows and kissed her lips fervently.

  “Are you all right?” he said, his expression hovering between a smile and concern.

  “Is what just happened what I think it was?”

  His eyes flickered with something she couldn’t place. “You climaxed,” he said, almost clinically now. “You had an orgasm.”

  She gasped. “But we didn’t even take off our clothes.”

  He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against hers. “Imagine what we’ll do to each other when our clothes come off.”

  A shiver ran over her as she imagined exactly that.

  He lifted his head, suddenly seeming worried. “I’m sorry.” He rolled away from her. “It wasn’t my place or right to have brought your body that far. I got carried away. I should have left that privilege for your future lover.”

  She blinked at him in confusion. He owned her in ways he couldn’t even imagine. He had no idea she had already pledged her body and soul to him with the kiss in the standing stone graveyard, long before even, when she was only a girl in love with a boy.

  “Josselin,” she whispered, “I’m glad it was you.”

  It felt right. He had to be her first, her last.

  His Adam’s apple moved as he swallowed. He sat up and all the warmth she had felt only seconds ago evaporated.

  “I’m a devil. I had no right to touch you like that.”

  She sat up too and rested her hand on his cheek. “You’re a good man.”

  It wasn’t Josselin’s fault that she was the prey he was after. He did what he did believing that he was fighting to win over evil. His heart was kind. She knew it, felt it, believed it, but he pushed away from her.

  “Promise me you won’t let me touch you again,” he said, “because it’ll be like witnessing a demon making love to you. The thought makes me sick to my stomach.”

  She touched his hair. “A demon wouldn’t have saved me from Iwig. A devil wouldn’t have considerately bound my wrists with bandages before handcuffing me.”

  “You’re justifying the man who hunts you.” His expression became tight. “Don’t you see what we are? You’re untainted, and I’m blacker than the night. You’re a little bird, so fragile, so easy to break, and if you have any sense of self-preservation you’ll fly away, as fast as you can.”

  He stopped suddenly, and Clelia could see the connection his mind made with his words, but battled to register. She reached for him, but he jumped to his feet.

  “If you need anything, I’m at your disposal. But maybe Cain was right. It’s better that you call Maya if you need something.”

  He opened and closed the door with a bang.

  “I do need something, Josselin,” Clelia whispered to the closed door. “I need you.”

  Chapter Eleven

  For an hour, nobody else disturbed her, and Clelia was just about to go upstairs to get an idea of where they were sailing, when Maya knocked and opened the door.

  “I saw Josselin leave in a bit of a ... rage. Are you all right?”

  “What do you care?”

  “Listen, I’m trying.”

  “Trying what?”

  “Never mind. Cain asked if you’re rested enough to come see him.”

  “You mean he instructed you to bring me to him.”

  Maya shrugged. “Let’s go.”

  Maya brought Clelia back to the lounge. She could see the muscled man called Bono standing on the deck, and Lann leaning on the rail, peering up at the sky. As they rounded the starboard, Clelia’s foot hooked in a coil of rope. She stumbled and Bono jumped forward, steadying her with his arms.

  “I’ve got you,” he said, smiling. “Are you okay?”

  In a flash, Josselin was there, as if manifesting from thin air, almost growling as he took in the scene.

  “The deck is slippery,” Bono said. He really had a lovely face. He was the kind of man a woman could swoon over, but he wasn’t Josselin. “Better be careful. You’re such a tiny thing. Could easily break an arm or something.”

  “Thank you,” Clelia said, returning the smile.

  “You’re welcome.”

  Bono still had his hands on her arms. Josselin had taken the stance of an attacker with his legs planted wide and his fists balled by his side. Even his coat billowed angrily behind him in the wind.

  “Get your hands off her,” Josselin said through gritted teeth.

  Bono turned in surprise, staring at Josselin. “What’s that, Joss?”

  “I said, get your fucking hands off her.”

  Bono lifted his hands into the air in a gesture of surrender. “Hey, I was only being helpful
.”

  “Your helpfulness is unneeded.”

  Maya looked between Bono and Josselin with a grin. “Listen, I’d love to stay and watch you two puppies fight over a bone, but Cain is waiting.”

  She lifted her brow expectantly at Josselin, who grudgingly stepped aside, his eyes trained on Bono.

  “Watch it, Bono,” he said. “Keep your hands to yourself.”

  When the women walked past, Bono addressed Maya. “What the hell was that?”

  Maya chuckled. “Joss is territorial.”

  Bono wiped his hand over his shaved head. “Fuck.”

  Clelia peered over her shoulder at Josselin, but he didn’t look back at her as Maya escorted her into the lounge. Clelia felt confused as hell. She had always known Josselin was complex, but his behavior didn’t make sense. One minute he looked like he wanted to rip off her clothes, the next he told her to stay away from him, and when someone smiled at her, he acted like a jealous boyfriend. He definitely didn’t act like a cruel captor. He behaved like a very possessive captor.

  Cain stood up from the sofa when they entered. He offered Clelia a chair, but when she declined, he remained standing himself.

  He waited until Maya had gone before he said, “Has Josselin been treating you well?”

  “Yes,” Clelia said, almost defensively, rubbing at her arms.

  Cain’s gaze slipped from her bruised neck to the red marks on her wrists. “You have no complaints about being his prisoner?”

  “I’m not his prisoner. I’m yours.”

  “Ah,” he said pensively. “I suppose it depends on how you look at it.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I think Josselin took you hostage a very long time ago. Am I right?”

  She felt herself pale under his watchful eyes.

  “I see I am,” he said. “You gave him your heart. You must have sensed this return. Did it come to you in the form of a dream? A vision? A sensation, maybe?”

  Clelia didn’t answer.

  “You have reason to mistrust me. But the question is do you trust Josselin?”

  “Do I trust him to do what?”

  “What’s right?”