Pyromancist SECOND EDITION: Art of Fire (7 Forbidden Arts Book 1) Read online

  “I’m a man of my word, Joss.”

  “Fine. We’ll come in.” They didn’t have a choice.

  “I’ll send the team. Where must they meet you?”

  “My house.”

  “One hour.”

  “We’ll be ready.”

  The bathroom door opened as Joss cut the call. Clelia stood in the door, dressed in a pair of jeans, a strappy tank top, and canvas trainers. The black straps of her bra that showed under the top were unassumingly sexy. The fabric was tight, pulling over her breasts and stressing their curves. He looked away.

  Pouring another cup of coffee from the flask, he held it to her. “It’s still warm. Sugar?”

  She shook her head and took the cup between her palms, but didn’t drink.

  “You don’t drink coffee?” he asked.

  “I’m not fussy.”

  “I should’ve asked.”

  She snorted. “It’s not like I’m a guest.”

  “The sandwiches are cold.” He threw the strap of the bag over his shoulder. “We can pick up breakfast on the way.”

  “Where are we going?” she asked in a strained voice.

  “A safer place.”

  She left the coffee on the desk. “When will you let me go home?”

  Never. It wasn’t the answer she wanted to hear. “You don’t get to ask that question anymore.”

  “Am I not allowed questions about my future?”

  “Not if you already know the answer.”

  Biting her lip, she looked away.

  Hating how she pulled up more walls, he said in a lighter tone, “Any other questions?”

  “Anything?” She narrowed her pretty, slanted eyes at him.

  He almost smiled. He could practically see her scheming. “Shoot.”

  “When you left, they said you went to New York.”

  “I ended up in New York, yes.”

  “Did you go there to join these people you work with?”

  He shifted the weight of the bag. “I didn’t go there to find them. They found me.”

  “Why is this special task force of yours such a big secret?”

  “The use of the arts they possess is forbidden.”

  “Why?”

  “During the Dark Age, many people practiced these arts for personal gain, to win power or money. Not all of those magicians were concerned about humanity or goodness. It took many centuries to slay them. The battle was long, hard, and bloody. To protect humankind, the church at the time burned these magicians as Satan’s disciples. A few survived, but had to go into hiding. For centuries after that, no one dared to even say the word magic.”

  “Surely someone can’t be burned on a stake in today’s world?”

  “No.” The answer was grim, but she deserved the truth. “They get eliminated.”

  Her dark eyes grew large. “Killed?”

  “This is why they keep their skills a secret.”

  “You’re not making a secret of yours. Neither is Lann or Maya.”

  “Mine is not an art and therefore not forbidden. Lann and Maya don’t advertise what they are. They’ve taken an oath to only use it for the good of mankind. Our team has powerful support from individuals in various governments.”

  “Why would they support you if everyone else would be killed for owning this art?”

  “Because we execute their orders. We’re trying to do it quietly without causing public pandemonium. It’s no different than any other group fighting crime.”

  Her face was thoughtful as she digested the information.

  “We’re protecting the good,” he said.

  “The good.” She gave him a hard look. “Is kidnapping me good?”

  “In the greater scheme of things.”

  “In the greater scheme of things, a small sacrifice, right?”

  He blew out a breath. “It’s not that simple.”

  “I suppose now you’re going to tell me justice isn’t black and white.”

  “In fact, justice is that simple. An eye for an eye.”

  “What about you, Joss?” she asked, crossing her arms.

  “What about me?”

  “Are you a puppet or someone who can decide for himself what’s right and wrong?”

  He dragged his gaze over her delicate body. It got stuck on how her arms pushed her breasts together. “I’m a man, Cle.”

  “A man? What you do isn’t human. Don’t think I haven’t noticed how you enjoy the taste of blood, and don’t lie to me about just getting turned on from the cocktail of my red blood cells. That’s insane.”

  Her words hit him in the chest, even if part of it was true. Yes, he enjoyed the taste of blood, and maybe that made him inhuman, but no one else’s blood turned him on. “I told you the truth.”

  The speculation in her eyes didn’t lift.

  He rested his hands on his hips. “I don’t know why I have this ability. All I can tell you is that I enjoy the taste, but I’ve never found it erotic, not until I tasted yours. Maybe it’s because of the other things I taste in your blood.”

  She stood very still. Behind her, the light made a halo around her head. Her voice sounded small when she said, “What things?”

  “Your arousal.”

  She flushed, but to her credit, she didn’t deny his observation.

  “You said you always wanted the truth,” he said by way of apology.

  Her lips parted as she searched for words. He watched her as the silence stretched. How would her pretty mouth look after a whole night in his bed? Would it be plump and swollen from his kisses? A flashback from the cemetery invaded his memory, soft lips on his mouth and a tight body around his cock.

  “Come on,” he said tersely. “It’s time you meet Cain.”

  “I think you should stop telling me the names of the people you work with.”

  It pained him to say it, but she needed to understand. He needed her cooperation, fast. “Not knowing isn’t going to change a thing.”

  She didn’t answer.

  He took her bag and slung it over his other shoulder. “Can you please get the tray?”

  She frowned. “I hate that you’re acting so polite.”

  “You’d rather I was rude?”

  “Yes,” she bit out, picking up the tray. “I’m sorry about the sandwiches. I hate wasting food.”

  “If I’m not allowed to be polite, you’re not allowed to be nice.”

  “I wasn’t nice.”

  “You apologized.”

  “Not to you. To the universe, for wasting.”

  “It took me all of three minutes to prepare.”

  She lifted her chin. “I don’t care.”

  “Just take the tray to the kitchen and load the dishwasher.” He added, making sure the warning sounded in his voice, “I’m right behind you.”

  She followed out his order with a straight back and stiff shoulders. There was no place for smiles in what was going down, but he grinned anyway, enjoying her little show of defiance when she walked out ahead of him with too much sass in the sway of her hips.

  Chapter 14

  After taking out the trash, Joss ushered Clelia outside and locked the door. The smile he plastered on his face didn’t fool her. He was worried. Every muscle in his body was drawn tight as he scanned the area while guiding her to the SUV waiting in the driveway.

  Lann got out from the driver’s seat and went around to open the passenger door. In white Bermuda shorts and a navy striped T-shirt, he could’ve been any holidaymaker about to enjoy some sailing, but she was familiar with the latent power under his graceful movements. He’d been as at ease with an automatic rifle in his hands as he’d be with a fishing rod.

  She glanced around. There was no one else in sight, no one she could call to for help. She could make a run for it, but she couldn’t outrun Joss or an SUV. She should rather save her strength for the fights that mattered.

  As if sensing the direction of her thoughts, Joss locked his hand around her bicep. He han
ded their bags to Lann and motioned for her to get in. Maya sat in the back, holding a pistol and looking as relaxed as if she were about to go for a scenic drive.

  Something inside Clelia shifted. She couldn’t say what it was, but she could feel it. Since Joss had taken her captive, she hadn’t been herself, and it wasn’t just the emotional trauma of the kidnapping, the drugs, or Joss’s effect on her. She saw more clearly, and experienced touch with a new intensity. Her instinct flared, fierce and lucid. Suddenly, she knew without a doubt danger was near. Something that felt too much like the end stretched like a shadow over her heart.

  “Hey,” Maya said, scanning her face. “Are you all right?”

  Joss nudged her from behind. “We’re an open target. We have to get moving.”

  She turned to him. “Promise me you’ll take care of my animals.”

  He frowned. “I already told you I would.”

  “Promise me. Regardless.”

  His frown deepened. Without replying, he gripped her hips and lifted her into the vehicle.

  “Joss,” Lann said, his voice soft, “she asked for a wish. It has to be granted. You know the rules.”

  “We don’t have any rules,” Joss bit out.

  “Fine,” Lann said in his ever-patient voice. “You know the code of conduct. She has a right to ask. You should grant her the wish.”

  “Let’s go,” he said to Lann, getting in next to her.

  Maya smiled at her like a cat that had snatched a sausage from a butcher shop. Dressed in a tight top, slick black pants, and high-heeled boots, she swung her leg as she regarded Clelia. “Don’t worry. We’ll take care of your animals. Joss doesn’t want to promise because the grant usually pertains to last wishes.” Putting emphasis on the words, she added, “As in dying.”

  “Shut up, Maya,” Joss said, resting his arm on the seatback behind Clelia. “I’m not making any last-wish promises.” He turned to Clelia. “Understood?”

  She did. Only too well. Nothing could stop what was coming. Not even Joss.

  When she didn’t answer, he took her chin and turned her face to him. His words were gentle. “What would you like for breakfast?”

  From the corner of her eye, she saw Maya’s amused smile. “I’m not hungry.”

  Joss clenched his jaw, but he didn’t press the issue.

  She looked through the window. Out here, she felt like yesterday—lost and alone. Inside the house, there were only Joss, his ghosts, and her. For the night they’d spent in his room, she almost managed to pretend what waited outside the doors of that haunted house didn’t exist. She felt closer to him now because of the things they’d shared in that house, things they shouldn’t have said. Instead of hating him, the forbidden kiss had sealed her feelings. By sharing his truth, he’d tangled his life with hers to form a new hybrid. No matter what happened, it was too late. She couldn’t sever her roots from his without killing the tree.

  They drove to the old oyster factory that had closed down several years before, and set off in a small boat that had been tied to the unused jetty in the bay. It was a clever spot to hide a boat, as the metal spikes of the rusted oyster camps hidden under the water made it dangerous to swim, and the stench of the decaying seaweed kept sunbathers and fishermen at bay.

  They went several miles into the sea before they pulled up next to a big luxury yacht. Many such yachts populated the Gulf during the holiday months of July and August. An unusually tall man with a shaved head and eye patch, all muscles and teeth, waited on the deck. A diamond stud glittered in one ear. His coffee-colored skin shone in the sun, making him look like a cross between an African god and a pirate. Muscles rippled under an unbuttoned linen shirt as he extended a hand to help them onboard. Designer ripped jeans hugged his narrow hips.

  He pulled Maya onto the deck, but when he reached for Clelia, Joss said, “I’ve got her, Bono.”

  Joss kept his hands on her hips as he guided her up the ladder from behind. Without introducing her to the man he called Bono, he led her around the deck and took her down a few steps into a generously sized lounge.

  A striking man with a red birthmark on his cheek sat in a lounge chair reading a tablet. Dressed entirely in white, he looked like he’d escaped from heaven.

  Upon their entry, the man got up and leaned on a cane with a brilliant stone head. Everything about him captured and demanded attention.

  Taking her fingers lightly in his, he kissed her hand without touching his lips to her skin. “Clelia, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Cain, your host. Has Joss been treating you well?”

  Clelia glanced at Joss, who stood close behind her. He gave her a hard look.

  “Maybe we’ll talk later,” Cain said, following the direction of Clelia’s eyes. “I apologize for your detainment, but unfortunate circumstances necessitated the measure. However I’m happy to welcome you onboard our safe house. I dare say you’d feel less of a prisoner here than on land.” He smiled, but there was no mistaking the subtle warning underlying the gesture. “The sea is, after all, a prison in its own right. At least you’ll have the liberty of moving around.”

  Clelia looked at the flat surface of the water through the window. To some, the ocean seemed like a prison, holding a boat hostage in countless miles of surrounding water, but for someone like her, who’d grown up with the sea and been taught to read its tides like a map, it was an opportunity for freedom, to escape. She said nothing however as Cain waved at Maya, who waited by the door, to enter.

  “Maya,” Cain said when she walked up to them, “escort Clelia to her cabin and help her settle in.”

  Joss took a step in Clelia’s direction, his jaw tight, but Cain lifted a finger and shook his head.

  When Maya took Clelia’s arm, Joss blocked their path.

  “Joss,” Maya said, arching a brow, “you’re crowding us.”

  Clelia regarded Maya from under her lashes. The cut on her lip hadn’t healed yet. Joss flexed his fingers, his silver eyes mercurial in their brooding intensity.

  “Joss,” Cain said, “you’re forgetting your manners.”

  Joss didn’t budge. It seemed he hadn’t even heard Cain’s rebuke.

  Maya cocked a hip. “Clelia and I are just going to have a girl talk. Sometimes women need some space.”

  Joss stared at Clelia, looking as if he was trying to make up his mind. Slowly, his shoulders relaxed. He didn’t move his eyes from her as he addressed Maya. “You remember what I said?”

  Maya gave him a sweet smile. “Perfectly.”

  Only then did Joss step aside.

  They went back upstairs and took another set of steps at the backend of the yacht that took them to the cabins below deck. The door of the first cabin stood open. Bono lounged on one of two single beds, a tablet in his hands. He saluted when they passed. There were four doors all together, which meant the yacht could probably sleep eight people.

  Maya brought her to the last cabin. “Lann and Bono are sharing, and you, Joss, and I each have our own cabin. Cain has the master suite on the upper deck next to the lounge and the kitchen. Cain asked me to give you a tour, but this is pretty much it. Not much else to see.”

  She’d expected to be tied up or handcuffed again, at the very least sleeping under Maya’s wakeful eye. “You’re letting me sleep on my own?”

  “Unless you want to share with Joss.”

  Clelia’s cheeks burned. Was she that transparent?

  “The attraction between the two of you is obvious,” Maya said, answering the unspoken question. She opened an adjoining door to reveal a shower and toilet. “Do you and Joss have a romantic history?”

  “No,” she said too quickly, then added, “Not that it’s any of your business.”

  “Don’t worry. Answering personal questions is optional. Not so where Erwan is concerned.” Maya pointed at the bed. “Sit.”

  Holding her breath for the interrogation she felt coming, Clelia sat down on the narrow cot.

  Maya poised gingerly on the e
dge of the bed facing Clelia. “Relax. I’m not going to pounce like a lion.” She crossed her legs and folded one hand over the other on her knee. Her movements were graceful, making even the simple act of sitting look sensual. “Just ask me.”

  “Excuse me?”

  She swung her leg, appearing both relaxed and bored. “Just ask the question that’s on the tip of your tongue. I can see you trying to swallow it down.”

  “What question?”

  “You’re wondering who the hell I am and where I come from. Most importantly, you’re asking yourself why I’m here.”

  “You’re a hydromancist, you’re from South Africa, and I know why you’re here.”

  Maya drew her tongue over her teeth. “Impressive. I see you and Joss have actually spent some of your time together talking.”

  She narrowed her eyes at the implied meaning. “Whatever you’re thinking, it didn’t happen.”

  “If you say so,” Maya said with a thin smile. “He’s not supposed to share that kind of information, you know. If Cain finds out, Joss can get into a lot of trouble.”

  “I asked how you were involved in the investigation. With regards to where you’re from, your accent gave you away.”

  Maya’s look was smug. “So quick to jump to his defense.”

  “Joss doesn’t need me to defend him.”

  “There you go again, proving my point.”

  Clelia pulled her spine straight. “Is there a point to your questions?”

  “Just getting to know you.”

  “You can give up the pretense. You don’t look like someone who has friends.”

  “Touché. You’ll hurt a girl’s feelings.” Maya flicked a speck of dust from her pants. “I’m curious, that’s all.”

  Clelia crossed her arms. “About what?”

  “You’re Japanese.”

  “Japanese-Italian.”

  Maya leaned back on her arms. “A mixed breed. Something we have in common.” She looked Clelia up and down. “For a half-breed you’re not bad looking.”

  “Right,” she said under her breath. “You can really drop the act because I’m not buying it.”

  “Chill. I’m not trying to bond with you.”

  “Then why are we having this conversation?”