Souls Of Fire: Fireborn Part 29

"Not long." I leaned back in my chair, though it didn't really improve the distance between us or diminish the desire to kiss him. "Rory said it would take him twenty minutes to get here, so unless the traffic is hideous, he should only be a few minutes away."

Sam pulled his gaze from mine. After a second, he said, "When you meet with the sindicati, watch your back. They have a liking for sharpshooters perched up high."

"Thanks for the warning."

He shrugged. "I don't want you dead, Red, no matter how much I hate what you did to us."

I opened my mouth to argue, then closed it again. There was no point in trying to explain. Not anymore.

"I don't want me dead, either," I said instead. "It would be d.a.m.nably inconvenient to die early in two consecutive lifetimes."

He glanced at me, eyebrows raised. "You get to live again, so why does it matter?"

"Because dying before your allotted time makes rebirth a b.i.t.c.h." I glanced toward the door and saw Rory. His gaze met mine, flicked briefly to the man sitting beside me, then returned. His expression didn't alter, but tension rode him. It was evident in the set of his shoulders, in the brief clenching of his free hand as he made his way toward us.

I cleared my throat, but before I could say anything, Sam murmured, "Well, well, the boyfriend arrives."

"And that statement proves just how little you understand about phoenixes-and Emberly." Rory came to a halt in front of us, bright suns.h.i.+ne against the darkness of the man beside me.

"So you deny you're her boyfriend?" Sam growled. "That you were-and still are-lovers?"

"I deny nothing."

Rory's voice was as even as Sam's, yet it hinted at the anger that burned just beneath the calm exterior. The heat of it rolled over me, as fierce and as frightening as the darkness that lurked within Sam, but for a very different reason. I knew that anger, knew what it was capable of. Knew that if there was one flaw in the control Rory had over his fire, then it was me. Or rather, his desire to protect me from whatever life and fate threw at us. As much as he ever could, anyway.

And though he'd promised long ago to never again retaliate against those who were destined to hurt me, he'd been itching for a chance to confront Sam. Because he knew, just as I knew, that Sam had somehow been different. That the hurt this time had been deeper and harder to handle.

"But I am a necessity," he continued softly. "Without me, she cannot be, and vice versa. And if you cannot understand that, if you cannot accept that, then you are more of a fool than I thought."

Sam thrust to his feet, his fist clenched and very obviously close to losing control.

"d.a.m.n it. Get a grip, both of you!" I stepped in front of Rory, forcing him back with my body as I thrust my hands on my hips and glared at Sam. "This is neither the time nor the d.a.m.n place to get into this sort of s.h.i.+t. Not when we have a deadline to meet and lives to save."

Sam didn't immediately move or react, but the muscle along his jaw was back in action. After a moment, he nodded and sat back down.

"Give me the computer."

I held out my hand. Rory placed the computer in it, and I handed it across to Sam.

"How do we get the Trojan onto it?" I said as Sam opened the laptop.

He didn't answer, simply fired it up and, after a few seconds, said, "Pa.s.sword?"

I told him. With the computer unlocked, he got onto the Internet, using his phone as a hot spot, and download a file from an e-mail account. After a few more minutes, he shut the computer down and handed it back.

"Now," he said, voice little more than a growl. "The notebook."

"You've installed the Trojan?"

"Of course." He held out his hand. "The notebook, Emberly."

I handed it over. He rose, his expression as still as stone but the darkness within thicker-more dangerous-than ever before. And again, it allured as much as it repelled, and I had to fight to remain exactly where I was. Though whether I would have stepped forward or back, I wasn't entirely sure.

"As I've said before, be careful when you meet the sindicati. They tend not to stick to deals made with the likes of you and me."

I raised an eyebrow. "Meaning?"

"Meaning, the honest, law-abiding types." His mouth twisted into a smile, but it was a bitter thing to behold. "Obviously, they don't know either of us too well."

And with that, he walked out. I didn't watch him leave. I didn't need to. I could feel the deep gloom of his presence as surely as Rory's heat at my back. When he'd gone, I released the breath I hadn't even realized I'd been holding, then turned around and melted into Rory's waiting arms.

He kissed the top of my head and said, "At least it's over with, Em. At least you don't have to see him again."

"I can only hope." But I had a bad feeling fate wasn't about to let me off that easily. "But that's not what matters right now. We have a Fae to save."

"Well, I do agree with your b.a.s.t.a.r.d of an ex about one thing-the sindicati are not to be trusted. We need to meet them on our terms, not theirs, if we want any chance of pulling off this rescue."

I grimaced and pulled free from his grip as a waitress finally approached. After ordering a green tea for myself and a coffee for Rory, I sat back down and said, "I'm not sure they'll agree to a change of plans. They hold the cards, not us."

"If they want what we have, they'll play the game. At least until we hand over the laptop."

"Maybe." I wasn't too confident, but I guess we really had nothing to lose by trying. "Sam said they have a liking for marksmen placed on high, so we need to factor that in."

He pulled out a chair and sat down. "We could always go up to the rock. While it does provide plenty of places for a marksman to hide, I can easily keep watch from the sky."

The rock he meant was Hanging Rock, a recreational reserve that featured a large mamelon formation. Rory often went up there after hours for some flight time during the long golden sunsets of the summer months, because the surrounding areas were farmlands and the chances of being seen were few. While I did go up there occasionally, he was far more familiar with the area than I was.

I frowned. "Do you think they'll agree to meet that far out of town?"

"We're dealing with the vampire mafia, remember. Trust me when I say they won't want anything too public, especially if they're planning a few nasty surprises of their own." He smiled up at the waitress as she delivered our drinks, then added, once she'd left, "Our main problem will be getting them to agree to dusk rather than night."

"True." I dunked my tea bag into the mug of hot water and watched the bubbles rise as it sank. And hoped like h.e.l.l it wasn't an omen for things to come.

Rory's hand slid across mine, his grip warm, comforting. "It'll be all right, Em."

I smiled, but it felt tight. Fake. "Will it? I have a bad feeling about all this, and it's a real risk for both of us to be there."

"Vampires can't fly," he said reasonably. "So as long as I keep to the skies, we'll be fine."

Yeah, we would, but we both knew that he wouldn't keep to the skies, not if things started going bad on the ground-just as I wouldn't, if the situation were reversed. It was one of the reasons we'd agreed that the two of us should never again get jointly involved in dangerous situations-the need to protect each other was so much a part of our psyche that we not only placed our very existence at risk, but the chance of rebirth. As he'd noted to Sam, one could not be without the other.

I leaned back in the chair and regarded him for several seconds. "Promise me you'll keep to the skies. That you won't get involved in the fight if things go to h.e.l.l on the ground."

He hesitated. "I promise I'll keep to the skies unless I see a sharpshooter. Them, I'll take out. Fair enough?"

"Fair enough."

"Then ring them and make the meet."

I took a deep, somewhat quivery breath that didn't do a whole lot to calm the b.u.t.terflies suddenly going nutso in my stomach. I might have lived many lifetimes, but I'd never been one to march boldly into dangerous situations. "Avoidance was the better part of valor" tended to be the code I lived by.

But I dug out my phone and made the call regardless. After all, this wasn't about me. It was about Jackson. About saving his life if it was at all possible.

"Well, well," a cool and familiar voice said. "You report in far earlier than any of us predicted."

"That's because I have no desire to prolong these proceedings any more than necessary." My voice was surprisingly calm given all I could suddenly think about was his teeth tearing into my neck. "I've looked for the notebook and I can't find it. I do, however, have the laptop on which the notes were typed."

"And is the file on said laptop untampered with?"

"I haven't opened it," I replied, and thanked the stars I'd listened to Sam and hadn't tried to tamper with the notes themselves. "You can check the date it was last accessed when we do the swap, if you want."

"Oh, I will," he murmured. "Now, as to the swap-"

"Not so fast," I cut in. "I want proof that Jackson Miller is alive first."

"I gave you my word that he would be."

"You did," I said. "But past dealings with vampires have left me a little less inclined to trust a promise given by one."

"That is unfortunate." Though there was still little in the way of emotion to be heard in the vamp's tone, trepidation stepped through me. He really didn't like having his integrity questioned in any way, and I had a feeling doing so was a bad, bad idea.

I reached for my cup of tea, but my hands were trembling so much that liquid splashed over the sides and scalded my fingers. Rory plucked the cup from my hand, discarded the tea bag, then, with a wry smile, brought it up to my lips. I took a sip, but it helped with neither the dryness in my throat nor the b.u.t.terflies doing a tango in my stomach.

For several-very long-minutes, there was nothing but silence. Then came the sound of a click-the sort of sound that came from a light being turned on-and a m.u.f.fled curse. The voice was Jackson's. But the surge of relief was tempered by the knowledge that while he was alive right now, it didn't mean he would be when the time for the exchange came.

"The lady of fire wishes to confirm you're alive, Fae." The vampire's cool tones echoed slightly over the phone. Wherever they were, it was somewhere cavernous. "Please a.s.sure her that you are."

His choice of words had alarm shooting through me. I glanced sharply at Rory and mouthed, "How the h.e.l.l could they know what I am?"

But even as he shrugged, I remembered Rawlings, and the fire I'd encaged him with. Obviously, he'd reported events to the sindicati, something I hadn't counted on but surely should have. And while it meant the sindicati now knew some of what I was capable of, they didn't know it all. Didn't know I was a fire spirit and capable of a whole lot more than just calling forth fire from the earth itself.

Unless, of course, they'd beaten the information out of Jackson. He not only knew what I was, but he'd witnessed my transformation from flesh to fire.

"Emberly," Jackson croaked, "I'm alive."

"And you sound like s.h.i.+t," I replied, trying not to envision what had been done to him.

"I have had better days." Amus.e.m.e.nt briefly overrode the pain so evident in his gruff tones. "But it's nothing a good barbeque can't fix up."

"Except both of us know that controlling any sort of barbeque is not on the list of things you are currently capable of, Fae," came the amused comment. "So let us not wish for something that cannot be."

Once again his comment had alarm stirring. If the sindicati knew Jackson couldn't control fire, then that could mean only one thing-PIT had been infiltrated. There was no way they could have known that otherwise.

"And you, dear Emberly, have your confirmation that the Fae still survives," the vampire continued. "If you wish him to remain that way, you will meet-"

"No," I cut in. "Sorry, but we're back to that whole trust issue again. We meet at a time and a place specified by me, not you."

There was a long pause. "When and where?"

"Hanging Rock, central parking lot, at dusk."

After another long pause-during which I had no doubt he was consulting someone-he said, "As you wish."

His agreement only ratcheted up my tension. I'd expected at least some argument, especially given they were vamps and night would suit them better than dusk. That there was none could only mean the meeting point suited them just as much as it suited us. Still, I had one advantage-they didn't know about Rory.

Or at least I hoped they didn't. The s.h.i.+t could really hit the fan if they did.

"Fine. I'll see you then."

"You will indeed," he murmured, and hung up.

I breathed a sigh of relief, then plucked my tea from Rory's grip and downed it in several gulps, hoping it would at least drown the b.u.t.terflies. It didn't.

I glanced at my watch, then met Rory's understanding gaze. "We have three hours."

"Which gives us time enough to eat before we have to head up to Macedon." He caught my hand and kissed my fingertips. "You need to fuel this body, Em, not just the fire spirit."

"I know." I scrubbed a hand across tired eyes. After everything that had happened, I felt like s.h.i.+t, and I very much suspected it was a feeling that wouldn't go away, even after I'd eaten. "It's just that I'm-"

"Worried. I know. But it'll all work out. I'm sure of it."

I hoped he was right.

Hoped like h.e.l.l that things didn't go down as badly as I suspected they would tonight.

CHAPTER 14.

I drove past the locked gates that led into Hanging Rock Reserve, then came to a halt in the shadows of several eucalypts farther down the road and climbed out. Dusk was just beginning to weave red and gold fingers across the cloud-held sky, and the air had a charged, electric feel to it.

Or maybe that was just me.

Fire burned through my limbs, a force so eager to be used that sparks danced lightly across my fingertips every time I moved.

I clenched my hands and tried to control the fear that was leading to the fiery output. I might have serious doubts as to whether the sindicati would uphold their promises and let us go free, but I couldn't walk into this meeting so obviously ready for trouble. Any show of force, however small and bright, might just turn things down the wrong path.

I raised my gaze and scanned the sky. Rory was up there somewhere, but it didn't make me feel any safer. We might have set this meeting for a time convenient for us, but the cool-voiced vampire was one of the old ones, and dusk provided little impediment. And they'd had several hours to prepare their net-if indeed it was a net I was stepping into, and not just old fears and prejudices raising their ugly heads.

I blew out a breath, wished the nerves could so easily be released, then leaned back into the car and plucked the laptop-now safely secured in a backpack-off the backseat. After locking the car and shoving the keys under the rear wheel arch to ensure I didn't lose them in whatever mayhem might happen over the next half hour, I walked through the scrub that divided the road from the fence and climbed into the reserve.

It took about ten minutes to walk to the main parking lot, and sunset had taken full hold by the time I arrived. The power of it sang through me, a fierce, warm energy that-in any other situation-would have had me dancing.