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

  On the upper deck, he inhaled the scent of salt and sea, trying to gather himself with deep breaths of the familiar smell. The night sky was already a deep purple. On his way to the lounge, he ran into Bono, who was smoking a cigar next to the jacuzzi.

  The pilot blew a ring of smoke into the air and asked with a taunting smile, “Not staying the night?”

  “Shut up, Bono,” Joss said, shouldering him as he passed.

  Bono only chuckled.

  The lounge was empty when he entered. Everyone had to have gone to bed. He stayed up late, finishing a report. When he finally went to his cabin, he stopped at Clelia’s door and listened, but all was quiet. Only the sound of the sea lapping at the yacht kept the silence at bay.

  Chapter 17

  Despite the fact that the yacht was anchored, Clelia sat in the jacuzzi on the deck with Maya. After breakfast, Maya had invited her, or rather instructed her, to put on her bathing suit so Maya could babysit her in the jacuzzi. Joss hadn’t packed a swimsuit, so Clelia had to wear one of Maya’s bikinis. She wasn’t keen on wearing the meagre scraps of red fabric, let alone spend time with Maya. Joss was nowhere to be seen.

  “You can’t keep on circling in the Gulf,” Clelia said. “You have to admit this is pointless.”

  “Not so pointless when it ensures our safety,” Maya said, obviously in her element in the water.

  “Someone can shoot you even on a boat.”

  Maya laughed. “That wasn’t the safety I was referring to.”

  “What were you referring to?”

  “We’re on water. It’s the best defense for fire.”

  “You mean if someone sets the boat on fire,” Clelia said, anxiety tightening her stomach.

  It would be better if they locked her in at night. What if she sleepwalked? What if she did things while sleepwalking, things like starting fires? Come to think of it, she hadn’t been dreaming since Joss had kidnapped her. No more fires had been started either.

  She reflected on that. On the morning Joss had landed on the jetty in a helicopter and taken her hostage, Maya had said his presence was required at another fire on Île de la Jument. The island wasn’t that far. If she’d walked in her sleep that night, she could’ve taken the dinghy in the early morning hours, done it, and been back in her bed without even knowing. By the time she got to the harbor, the fire would’ve been discovered on the almost deserted island. It could’ve been her. Why did Erwan refuse to listen to her when she tried to warn him about her possible guilt?

  The feelings she’d had when they’d left Joss’s house stirred inside her again, feelings of heightened senses and power. The salt in the air tasted stronger. If she strained her ears, she could hear the fish cut through the water as a school opened a path around the yacht. Changes were happening. Her confidence was growing, and it wasn’t just because she’d finally manage to lose her virginity. At the same time, she couldn’t shake a persistent feeling of frustration. It was as if something was stuck. That something fought to get out, and it scared her. Whatever it was, she had to believe it had nothing to do with a forbidden art. She didn’t want to be like her mother. She didn’t want to live with that kind of curse.

  A speedboat pulling a skier cruised past them. The man on the skis waved. Maya lifted a graceful hand.

  “Shouldn’t you avoid attracting attention?” Clelia asked as the speedboat turned and came back for another round.

  Maya kept her eyes on the man in the wetsuit behind the boat. “I can’t help it if I’m noteworthy.”

  The boat was making noisy circles close by. This could be her chance. With her heart beating in her throat, she bided her time. When the skier came past again, she jumped up and waved her arms in the air.

  “Help!”

  Instead of attacking her, Maya only snickered. To Clelia’s dismay, the skier blew her a kiss.

  “Sit down,” Maya said, huffing. “He thinks you’re making a pass at him.”

  Her hope fell. Maya was right. It was ridiculous to jump from a jacuzzi on the deck of a yacht and asked to be rescued. Of course the man thought she was coming on to him. Defeated, she sat down.

  “Looks like Erwan abandoned you,” Maya said.

  The mention of her grandfather’s name made her stomach clench. “What if he has?”

  “That depends on Joss.”

  “What depends on him?”

  Maya smiled.

  “I know you’re supposed to kill me,” Clelia said. “I heard Cain and Joss talk.”

  “Don’t be so gloomy. Just enjoy the moment. Enjoy the sun. One minute at a time is a good motto for life.”

  She imagined Joss with a gun in his hand aimed at her head. How would he kill her? Would he strangle her? Shoot her? Drown her? If it came down to that, would he let her choose like she’d asked? He said he wanted to help her, but would he have felt the same if they hadn’t had sex? If that forbidden night hadn’t happened, would he have executed the command without second thoughts? His sense of loyalty came from one physical encounter. It was safe to say the loyalty was misplaced. Then there was what Cain had said, that turning his back on his team and giving up on what he believed in would destroy him.

  The noise of the speedboat zoomed in and out as it turned around them, but she wasn’t paying attention to the skier any longer.

  Her thoughts were turning in circles. All she accomplished was giving herself a headache. “I want to go to the cabin.”

  She had to work out a plan to keep herself and Erwan safe, and then figure out if she was indeed the person Joss was after, the firestarter he had to destroy.

  Maya rested her elbows on the side of the tub. “We may as well catch some sun while I have to sit here and watch your ass.” Her red lips tilted. “Or would you rather be handcuffed to Joss’s bed?”

  She kept her face stoic, but her voice failed at sounding nonchalant when she asked, “Where is he anyway?”

  “Shopping in Vannes.”

  “Shopping?”

  “Our food has to come from somewhere.”

  Bono came up from the lower deck. Stretching, he strolled to them. “I’m not made for water. I tried to lift some weights in the gym, but what I really need is a nice, long run on solid ground.”

  “Missing your big, bad flying machine?” Maya asked, smiling up at him.

  He cracked his knuckles. “You know me. I’m happiest in the air.”

  “In case Joss hasn’t properly introduced you,” Maya said to Clelia, “Bono is our pilot.” She turned back to Bono. “You could join us. Water’s nice.”

  Bono chuckled. “And risk having my neck broken by her boyfriend?”

  “He’s not claiming her, so…” Maya batted her eyelashes.

  “No thanks.” To Clelia, he said, “No offence.”

  Maya smirked. “In that case, be a sweetheart and fetch us some cocktails.”

  “You know how Cain feels about drinking on duty.”

  Maya snorted. “Make it a booze-free one, for God’s sake, but if I can’t have the alcohol, I want the umbrella, the cherry, and all the trimmings.”

  “You drive a hard bargain,” Bono said with a grin.

  “I drive a lot of things hard.”

  “Two virgin strawberry daiquiris coming up,” he said, laughing as he walked off.

  “I don’t get the lot of you,” Clelia said.

  Maya closed her eyes and tilted her face to the sun. “What’s there to get?”

  “You kidnap me, and now you serve me cocktails in a jacuzzi. Is that how you treat all your hostages?”

  “Depends on the hostage.”

  “What gives me special privileges?”

  Maya opened her eyes. “Joss seems to be fond of you.”

  “Will fondness prevent him from killing?”

  “No,” Maya said without missing a beat. “Not if you’re fencing for the wrong side. Joss will kill anything that’s evil.”

  She swallowed. “Has he killed a lot?”

  “Only when ne
cessary,” Maya said. “He’s a pain in the ass, but he’s not bad. A bit tormented, but that adds to his charm, don’t you think?”

  She wasn’t in the mood to discuss Joss’s charm. She wanted to fill in the gaps since the time he’d left town.

  Bono reappeared carrying two tall glasses decorated with all the edible accessories a bar could stock. He walked like a tightrope artist, concentrating not to spill a drop. Despite the situation, Clelia smiled. The designation of daiquiri mixer definitely didn’t fit the big, muscular man. He looked out of his depth, whereas she could imagine him completely at ease with a helicopter’s cyclic in his hands.

  Maya took her drink and blew him a kiss. “Thanks, Bo.”

  He went down onto his haunches and handed Clelia a glass. “I’m no good at this. I think it may need some more crushed ice.”

  She was about to thank him when she caught sight of Joss. He stood next to the steps with shopping bags at his feet, wearing his signature dark pants and black T-shirt. He didn’t look happy. She had the ridiculous notion that he’d caught her red-handed. With the noise of the speedboat, she hadn’t heard his motorboat arriving.

  Joss fixed her with a broody look as he made his way over the ropes and necessary clutter on the deck. His movement was lithe, a stark contrast to Bono’s earlier performance.

  She blinked up at him as his shadow fell over her.

  Taking the drink from her hand, he left it on the side before grabbing a towel from a deckchair. “Get out.”

  “Joss, give her a break,” Maya said.

  He didn’t look at Maya. His gaze was burning on Clelia’s body, his expression promising nothing good.

  The speedboat cruised past again, the skier making an impressive jump over the wake. She cringed inwardly as the man blew another kiss in her direction.

  Joss’s face darkened. “Maya, do something about that fucking boat.”

  Even Maya, who didn’t seem easily affected by Joss’s anger, looked tense. She flicked her palm sideways. A small wave lifted from the water and ran toward the boat, tossing the man out of his skis. As Maya flicked her hand the other way, another wave hit them from the other side.

  The boat turned, engine idling, and the skier climbed onboard. Clelia exhaled with relief when they took off. She was so distracted by the trick Maya had played she’d ignored Joss who was now watching her with narrowed eyes.

  “Get out,” he said again.

  “It was my idea,” Maya said. “We were just cooling off.”

  Joss extended his hand.

  Not daring to glance at either Maya or Bono, Clelia got to her feet and took the hand he offered to help her over the edge. She stepped into the towel he held open.

  “Bring the bags in, Bono.” He fixed his angry gaze on Maya. “Put the frozen stuff in the freezer.”

  Without another word, he took Clelia’s arm and guided her below deck.

  Joss gritted his teeth as he led Clelia back to her cabin. Seeing her almost naked with Bono, who was undressing what wasn’t already exposed of her body with his eyes, had made him want to ground Bono for a year. After breaking his jaw. And his nose. And all his fingers. He didn’t dare to think of the idiot who’d blown Clelia a kiss.

  Joss clicked the door shut. “Did you enjoy that?”

  “The jacuzzi? No, actually.”

  “The flirting with Bono and that wanker on the water.”

  “We weren’t flirting.”

  “Don’t you know what men think when they look at your body?”

  “Are you speaking for all men or with the exception of yourself?”

  Resting his hands on his hips, he tilted his face to the ceiling.

  “I may be your hostage,” she said, “but you don’t own me.”

  That statement didn’t sit fucking right with him. She’d become his the minute she’d let him bury his cock inside her. But he hadn’t officially claimed her. Not yet. Until they’d finished what they’d started, she was free to choose whoever she wanted. Any lucky asshole could get to be her lover, not that he’d let that man live. In the meantime, he had no right to be jealous, angry, or protective. The only right he had was to do his job, which was to catch a firestarter, and he wasn’t doing a good job.

  “When this is over—” he said, but then paused.

  Their future was uncertain, not to mention bleak. Making promises he couldn’t keep wasn’t right.

  “What then?” Clelia asked, a moment’s fear sparking in her eyes before she blinked it away.

  “I’ll never harm you.” He’d kill for her—and from the way things were looking, he was pretty damn sure it would come to that—but he wouldn’t lift a finger against her.

  “You don’t have to feel obliged to protect me just because we had sex once. I’m not your responsibility.”

  The statement made him clench his jaw. Damn wrong. “I told you,” he said, every word measured, “I take sex very seriously.”

  She gave him a sad look. “It’ll kill you.”

  Resisting the urge to touch her, he fisted his hands at his sides. “What will kill me?”

  “Being forced to make a choice between a girl you fucked once and what you believe in.”

  “There is no choice.” Which was his fault. If he’d kept his dick in his pants, he wouldn’t have put them in this situation. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to regret it. He only regretted not remembering it, but he’d correct that soon, as soon as he’d gotten them out of this mess.

  She blew out a small sigh, her expression something between frustration and reluctant acceptance. “What will you do when you find Erwan?”

  He’d bring him to Cain. They’d question him. They’d find the firestarter Lupien was after and eliminate that firestarter to prevent such powerful magic from falling into the enemy’s hands. Surely, with time, Clelia would see there was no other choice.

  He didn’t say any of that or told her about the killer he was when he kneeled in front of her and rubbed the towel over her arms, stomach, thighs, and feet. Looking up, he saw what he didn’t want to see in her eyes. He saw desire, a sexual need he liked to think he’d awakened. He didn’t want to see it because it was too painful not to react to it. Admitting that another man could fulfill it was like voodoo needles stabbed into his heart.

  He dropped the towel and moved his hands up her legs and over her hips, coming to a stop on her small waist. “I could worship your body forever,” he said in a hoarse voice, “and when the time is right, I will.”

  Her skin contracted under his hands. Her face softened, a part of her armor coming down when she threaded her fingers through his hair. Her touch was light. Uncertain. If she feared his rejection, it was because he gave her ample reason by pushing her away every time she reached out. As God was his witness, there would come a time she’d touch him without restraint. Catching her wrists, he kissed the chafed skin on each one, offering the only apology he could.

  “I never meant to hurt you, Cle.” It was paramount she believed him, not only because he needed her trust, but also because it was the truth. “If I could—”

  A loud knock sounded on the door before it opened abruptly, shattering the fragile moment.

  Bono stood in the frame with a boutique bag in his hands. He looked from Joss who was kneeling on the floor to Clelia in her flimsy bikini.

  Clearing his throat, he held up the bag. “I brought this.” At least he had the common sense to turn his head away, avoiding looking at Clelia’s scantily clad body, as he dropped the bag on the foot end of the bed. “Everything all right in here?”

  “Um, yes,” Clelia replied.

  Joss clenched his jaw. Did Bono really think he’d do something to her? Is that why he came charging in here? He pushed to his feet and stepped in front of Clelia, blocking Bono’s view.

  Bono threw a thumb at the door. “I guess I’ll just go then.” He lifted his hand in an awkward greeting and backed out of the cabin before closing the door behind him.

  Joss inhal
ed deeply, staring at the door. Mine, his heart and mind said.

  “What’s with all this male testosterone?” Clelia asked.

  He turned to face her. Goosebumps had broken out over her skin.

  “You’re cold,” he said.

  “Stop growling.”

  “Was I?”

  “When you spoke just now, it sounded more like a tiger roaring than a man asking me if I was cold.”

  “Are you?”

  “No.”

  “You’d better change anyway.” He motioned at the bag on the bed. “I bought you some things.”

  Her gaze followed the action. “Why?”

  “I was in Vannes,” he said, as if that explained everything.

  The truth was, he could’ve easily stopped by her house and picked up more of her clothes, or he could’ve taken the dirty ones to the laundromat, but he wanted her to have some of the pretty things women liked.

  “You shouldn’t have,” she said, searching his face for truths he couldn’t admit. Not yet.

  He shrugged like it didn’t matter. “You can give it to someone if you don’t like it.”

  “I meant you shouldn’t do nice things for me.”

  Not wanting to talk about the warped situation anymore, he said, “I went to see your animals.” The way her face lit up was a dagger in his heart. “I arranged for the local vet to take care of them.”

  Just as quickly, her expression dropped. “Because I’m not going back.”

  He owed her at least this truth. “Erwan isn’t coming, it seems. We have to take you to Paris with us until Cain comes up with another plan.” He dropped his shoulders in defeat. “He gave me forty-eight hours. Our time is up.” At her petrified look, he added, “The fires have stopped. The French government gave us carte blanche for one week only. After tomorrow, they won’t let us investigate freely.”

  “You mean they won’t turn a blind eye to your illegal methods.”

  “Something like that.”

  When she hugged herself, he had to cross his arms to prevent himself from wrapping them around her.