Saving Marigold: Lick of Fire Page 2

  “He doesn’t want a mate?” she repeated, her brow furrowing. “Why not?”

  Chris could have told her exactly why, he could have explained about Idris’ occasional loss of control over his powers, but did he have a right to do so? He was already inserting himself into their business by telling her Idris was her mate. Revealing too much was one step beyond what he felt comfortable doing.

  “Because he’s an idiot?” he offered with a half-smile. “But he’s a good man, too. He’ll try to convince you he’s not, don’t believe him for a second.”

  Her eyes narrowed and she looked toward the garage door that someone was only now closing. He was tempted to take hold of her arm again to know what she was thinking, but resisted the impulse. If they were to be family, he’d be even more careful with her than he was with most people.

  Before she could say anything else, a tall, thick-shouldered man approached her. Judging from his black uniform, he was one of the soldiers.

  “She means it,” he told Violet quietly. “She’ll kick you out of the squad. Don’t go running off now, please. And besides, Ryan’s hurt. He’ll need you to take your lambs to your safe house. We’re just about done assigning them.”

  Still looking deep in thought, she nodded absently.

  “I’ll stay,” she said quietly, but immediately added, “for now.”

  She gave Chris a brief smile before stepping away toward another soldier whose arm was in a sling.

  “You her mate?” the thick-shouldered man asked, one eyebrow raised at Chris. “We all saw you two showing your tattoos to each other, but that’s not the way I’d have expected her to react.”

  His gaze fell down to Chris’ wrist. Chris hurriedly crossed his arms, though he thought it was too late.

  “Not that it’s any of your business,” he replied coolly, “but I’m not. Nor am I a ‘lamb,’ if that’s what you were implying.”

  The man passed a hand through his hair and offered a somewhat apologetic look.

  “No offense intended. We’ve got code names for everything, and ‘lambs’ seemed better than calling you ‘prisoners’ now that you’re free. Did you get registered yet?”

  Upon hearing that Chris hadn’t, he led him to one of a soldier with a clipboard who took Chris’ name and asked a few questions about his detention and power. The first, Chris answered, though he declined to tell what his power was. These people had saved him from the UIPP, yes, and they seemed like good people, but after all he didn’t know much about them yet. After being betrayed by people Chris thought he knew, suspicion seemed necessary—at least until he learned more.

  After another half hour, he and another of the prisoners, a young man who looked to be in a half-daze, found themselves in the company of two women who appeared to be a couple. The four of them took a nondescript sedan to an apartment half an hour away, where they would stay until the next day. Then, they would go to that Sanctuary place, wherever that might be.

  As he ate, showered, shaved, dressed in some secondhand clothes that were a million times better than the torn and dirty prisoner uniform he’d worn for far too long, and finally placed a brief call to his parents to let them know that both he and Idris were all right, Chris was too busy to think much about what had happened. But once he was in bed that night—a real bed, not just a bare mattress on concrete floor, with a pillow, sheets and blankets that felt like absolute luxuries—his mind turned back to his brother and Violet.

  Part of him was happy for them that they’d found each other. As stubborn as Idris might be, Chris wanted to think he wouldn’t be able to run from his mate for long. Judging from her argument with the older woman, Violet could certainly hold her own in a fight. But another part of him, a small, shameful little voice, could only bemoan the fact that Idris, who never wanted a mate in the first place, had come in contact with her, however briefly, whereas Chris, who very much wanted to find love at last, had never met anyone named Marigold, let alone a Marigold who wore his name on her wrist.

  Was it too much to hope that maybe, just maybe, she might be waiting for him in Sanctuary?

  CHAPTER TWO

  The seats weren’t comfortable, and the plane was small enough that every hint of turbulences felt like an emergency in the making, but Chris couldn’t have cared less. After months spent underground in a cell he sometimes didn’t leave for days, watching the sky, the clouds, the occasional glimpses of the land below finally drove it home that he was free. They were flying eastward and the sunset was chasing them, casting longer and longer shadows on the ground, darkening the sky so slowly that only by looking away could Chris notice a difference.

  The two women from the squad in charge of his protection had told him a little more about this Sanctuary place they were going to, and they’d made it sound like Heaven on Earth for paras. While in the whole country paras were regarded as dangerous if not hostile, with the Unit for Investigation of Paranormal Persons at liberty to arrest and detain anyone accused of being a para without the need for such a small thing as a trial, in Sanctuary paras were free to be who they were. Shifters of all sorts could fly, run, swim without fear of being tracked down, and people with other powers didn’t have to hide what they could do.

  Neither of Chris’ parents was a para, and it had come as a surprise to them that both their sons had powers. They’d done their best to teach them to use said powers safely, and to hide them the best they could. Chris had taken these lessons to heart, especially when he’d understood that if he was snatched by the UIPP, his parents wouldn’t be able to help in any way. He’d kept his power to himself for the most part, revealing it only to other paras who’d revealed themselves to him first.

  The woman he suspected had outed him to the authorities wasn’t a para herself, but she’d overheard him talking to a friend about para rights and had cast suspicious looks toward him for a couple of weeks before he’d been arrested. He wondered if she’d outed his friend, too; would it be safe to try to contact him to check up on him? He’d been told the UIPP and regular police weren’t allowed to set foot in Sanctuary, but he still had some trouble understanding how that could work exactly.

  He was allowing his mind to drift from thought to thought, not really taking in anymore the view outside the window, when Carlos, the young man seated next to him, rose and traded seats with the thick-shouldered squad member who’d called Chris and the other prisoners ‘lambs’ yesterday. Chris gave him a nod of acknowledgment and meant to return to his observation of the sky but the man offered his hand to him.

  “Hi, I don’t think I introduced myself yesterday. I’m Petro. And you’re Chris, right?”

  Chris shook his hand, taking care not to try to read his thoughts. Even so, he caught glimpses of a mind in turmoil, heartbreak, worry and hope swirling together in an intricate dance.

  “That’s right,” he said.

  “And it’s just Chris?” Petro insisted. “Not Christopher or something like that?”

  “No, just Chris. Why?”

  “Just curious, that’s all. I don’t think you told us what your power is during registration, did you?”

  Trying very hard not to frown, Chris kept his voice pleasant, his tone conversational, even though he wasn’t enjoying this unexpected questioning.

  “I was under the impression it was optional for me to disclose that.”

  Petro’s expression remained pleasant as well—and seemed just as forced as Chris’ own.

  “It is, as long as you only intend to stay in Sanctuary for a few days. If you want to stay any longer, you’ll have to tell us eventually.”

  He said ‘eventually’ but it certainly sounded as though he wanted to know now. From what Chris had picked up since arriving at the airport, this guy might not be in charge of the whole squad but he was high up in the hierarchy. Maybe he ought to be circumspect around him…

  “I can read minds,” he said, somewhat grudgingly.

  Petro observed him for a long moment before saying, “
You didn’t hear what I just thought, did you?”

  Chris shook his head.

  “It doesn’t work like that for me. I can’t just pick up on random thoughts. I have to touch someone to see into their mind.”

  Petro considered him thoughtfully. When he spoke next, his voice held a harder edge, as though a hint of metal were shining through his words.

  “Have you ever entered reluctant minds? I mean, read the thoughts of someone who hadn’t welcomed you in?”

  From both his severe expression, his voice and the words he used, Chris had a feeling his answer might get him in trouble. Would he be kicked out of Sanctuary before he even got there for old missteps, committed before he knew any better?

  “I don’t,” he started, then stopped with a sigh. “When I was a kid, it took me a while to learn to control it. Sometimes I read minds when I shouldn’t have, or looked deeper than I should have. I’m better at staying out, now.”

  This time, Petro’s scrutiny made him downright uncomfortable. Should he have lied? For all he knew, Petro was a telepath too, or could guess when people were anything less than truthful. Telling the truth had to be best… right?

  “We’ve got a dragon shifter in Sanctuary who’s in a coma,” Petro said after a few seconds. “Well, I shouldn’t call it a coma, I suppose. More like… catatonic. She’ll eat if someone gives her food, she’ll drink if a glass is put to her lips, walk if someone takes her arm and guides her, but last I heard she hadn’t spoken or communicated with anyone in months. The leader of our squad, she’s a telepath too. She tried to communicate with her, but all she managed was to pick up on senseless thoughts. Would you give it a try?”

  Chris didn’t like the idea of it, it seemed much too close to mind rape as far as he was concerned, and he never wanted to get close to that again.

  Petro appeared to see he was reluctant, because he added, “She’s weakening. It won’t be long until we have to hospitalize her permanently. I’m afraid we’ll lose her if we can’t reach her.”

  Only a moment ago, Chris had worried that the extent of what he could do might get him kicked out of this safe place they were going to, and instead he was being asked to use his powers beyond what he was comfortable doing. He understood that the idea was to help this dragon shifter, but even so it crossed the boundary lines he’d established for himself.

  “Who is she to you?” he asked, trying to gain a little time. “Your mate? Your relative?”

  When Petro touched the inside of his own wrist, where the name of his mate was inscribed, it was with a brief, absentminded look toward the African-American woman sitting a little ahead of them. He shook his head before focusing on Chris again.

  “Nothing like that, no,” he said a little roughly. “She’s just another dragon shifter, one I helped rescue from a band of savages who don’t have a right to call themselves human. We healed her body as best as we could, but her mind…” He sighed. He looked older, suddenly. Tired. “If anyone saves her, it’ll be a telepath.”

  Chris didn’t reply. This woman had done nothing to deserve her fate, not any more than Chris or the other prisoners had deserved to be locked up in their jail. He felt sorry for her… but regardless of what Petro thought, there was no proof that a telepath might be able to help—or even that Chris might be able to do it. He’d never used his power for anything like this after all.

  “I understand your reservations,” Petro added after a while, “but… think about it?”

  “All right,” Chris agreed, because saying that much cost him nothing. But he knew already that thinking about it wouldn’t change his mind.

  After another half hour or so of flying, the pilot announced they were starting their descent. Looking once more out the window, Chris tried to get a look at this Sanctuary place he’d been told about since yesterday, though even as the scenery grew larger it didn’t seem any different from any part of the country he’d ever seen from a plane. More sparsely built, maybe, and there didn’t seem to be many roads. He did see a structure in the distance that looked like a wall, curving along the horizon. How big was this place, exactly? And how did the authorities allow it to exist behind an actual wall?

  He thought of asking Petro, but the man looked lost in his own thoughts, his gaze once more directed at the same woman as earlier. Chris supposed he’d learn more about Sanctuary soon enough.

  The small plane finally landed on an air strip that couldn’t possibly be called an airport. The doors opened and they all started coming out. Taking his first breath of the cool evening air, Chris smiled.

  When they were all on the tarmac, a jeep that had been waiting nearby approached. Chris looked around. Other than the dark-skinned woman now walking off to another parked car, there were seven of them standing there: himself, Carlos, the two women who’d been their protectors, Petro, a young girl half asleep in his arms, and the blonde woman whose thoughts he’d heard back in the van right after being freed, the one who’d been jailed but who was part of the squad. No way they’d all fit in the jeep, especially when three people were already riding in it.

  Two men came out from the front, wearing the same impeccable suits and strong, square features: twins. The driver opened the back door, and out came an older woman in a dark pantsuit, her gray-streaked black hair pulled in a tight bun at the nape of her neck. There was something about her, an aura of command that hinted she might be some important person in Sanctuary.

  She drew the blonde woman into a hug first, greeting her by name and offering her a warm smile. Then she shook hands with the other women from the squad, and Petro as well. For a few seconds, she rested a hand on the sleeping child’s back before one of the twin men ever so gently took her from Petro. The child never even stirred.

  All four squad members were then obviously dismissed, with a minivan that had been parked nearby approaching at the woman’s signal. They waved at the ex-prisoners before climbing in, but the van remained parked there, seemingly waiting. Chris felt a pang at seeing these protectors leave like this. ‘Lambs,’ he remembered Petro calling him and his peers… Surely they hadn’t been led to the wolves.

  “Welcome,” the older woman said in a strong voice, drawing his attention back to her and making him hyperaware that only he, Carlos and the sleeping child remained. “Welcome to Sanctuary. My name is Lily Littlewings, and these lands belong to my family. You are here as my guests, whether you stay for only a day or two, or for the rest of your lives. Please trust that you are safe as long as you are in our midst.”

  Coming closer, she held out her hand to Carlos, who shook it a little hesitantly. She wrapped her other hand over his and held on for a little while, looking straight at him with an intensity that caused Carlos to be visibly uncomfortable. It lasted for almost ten seconds before she let go and smiled.

  “Welcome,” she said again. “What is your name, young man?”

  “Carlos. Carlos Genero.” He bit his lip before blurting out, “Can I really stay here? I don’t have any money, but I can…”

  Resting a hand on his arm, she shushed him gently.

  “Don’t worry about money,” she said with a smile. “And yes, you may stay here as long as you want. We’ll explain more in a few days, but for now just focus on resting and healing from your captivity. Everything will be fine, Carlos. I promise.”

  He nodded, his shoulders visibly relaxing. Chris wished he could trust her as easily as Carlos appeared to do. But she was coming closer to him now, offering him her hand… Even without looking deep within her mind, he should be able to tell what her intentions were.

  He shook her hand, and like she’d done with Carlos she wrapped her other hand around his. Her grip was strong, her skin cool, but all Chris could feel was a sense of overwhelming peace that enveloped him like a warm blanket.

  Oh, a telepath, he heard her speak clearly into his mind. We don’t get many of you guys.

  He pushed past his surprise to ask, Are you a telepath too, then?

  Not e
xactly. The closest word to it is empath, I suppose, although there’s a bit of seeing the future to what I can do.

  He didn’t exactly form a question within his mind, but his curiosity must have transpired because she added, I’m very good at predicting whether someone will fit in Sanctuary or whether they’ll be trouble.

  She didn’t explicitly say that anyone who was trouble would be escorted out, but the idea was there, at the surface of her mind, close enough for Chris to wonder if it would be his fate.

  But already Lily Littlewings was drawing her hand back with a little smile.

  “Welcome,” she said, and the warmth in that simple word not only reassured him that he’d passed her test, it chased away the last threads of doubt that had kept Chris from feeling completely free until now.

  “I’ll see you again in a few days,” she continued. “When all of your peers have arrived, we’ll welcome all of you more formally. For now, you’ll be taken to the boarding house where you’ll stay for a little while until we find you long-term accommodations. My assistants will provide you with anything you need. But like I said, take a few days to rest and heal. You’re safe now.”

  With another smile and a nod, she said her goodbyes and walked over to the minivan, climbing in and drawing the door shut. Meanwhile, the twins were ushering Carlos and Chris to the Jeep. It all felt strangely anticlimactic, but Chris didn’t mind in the least. He’d had enough excitement to last him a lifetime, and would be quite happy to lead a simple, unexciting life from now on.

  CHAPTER THREE

  In the days that followed his arrival at Sanctuary, Chris started falling into a comfortable routine. He’d been given a room in a boarding house in what seemed to be the largest town of Sanctuary. Although maybe it might be more accurately described as the only town in Sanctuary… The other places he’d seen so far seemed to be more clusters of buildings than actual villages, let alone towns.