Burning Violet_Lick of Fire Page 3

  “Shit,” the woman breathed.

  Like he’d thought, the cell held a child, a dirty dress draped around her small form as she cowered in the corner farthest from the door. Her hair was filthy and dirt stained her cheeks. A whimper escaped her as she looked at them, and she tried to press herself deeper still into the corner.

  How old could she be? Eight, maybe nine? What powers could she possibly possess that she’d been locked in such a place?

  “Come on, sweetheart,” the woman said, and the endearment sounded odd, as though she wasn’t used to such language. She held her free hand out toward the girl, palm up and inviting. “Let’s get you out of here.”

  The girl looked from the woman to Idris, her eyes wider still. Was Idris imagining things, or was the air colder suddenly?

  “We don’t have time for this,” the woman said under her breath, before touching her ear and saying louder, “Ladybird here. Copy that. Almost done on the lower level. They held a little girl. Just a kid.”

  A reply buzzed in her headset, although Idris couldn’t make out the words. She wasn’t alone, then. She was part of a team, a team that used code names, which meant that they were organized. They must have a plan to get out—a plan that was time sensitive. All right then.

  Dropping the keys now that he didn’t need them anymore, Idris entered the cell. It was just as bare and dreary as his own, although, maybe because of her age, the kid had been granted a thin mattress on which to sleep. She raised her head as he approached, her pale blue eyes growing incredibly wide, her breath coming out in fast huffs that misted in front of her face. It really was colder, and Idris had an inkling of what her power might be.

  “What are you doing?” the woman—Ladybird—asked behind him. “You’re scaring her!”

  “Maybe,” Idris said, advancing with his hands up as though it’d be enough to reassure the child. “But she’ll be a lot more scared if we don’t get her out of here, so…”

  He didn’t finish, and instead went to grab the girl. She shrieked and fought back, kicking and twisting to free herself from his hands at her waist, but she was a small little thing, and weighed practically nothing. He wanted out of here. If it meant scaring a kid for five minutes… well, she was probably traumatized already, and all he was doing was carrying her.

  As he stepped out of the cell again with the kid in his arms, the woman gave him a hard look but didn’t comment. She led the way out, encouraging the other prisoner to move. The kid stopped fighting back. At first Idris thought she’d finally realized they were here to help her, but then he noticed she’d put one of her hands flat on his chest and curled the other one around his wrist—and they were cold. Not just cold from being in a cell with no heat, but icy, painfully so. If he hadn’t known any better, he could have thought he’d been stabbed with icicles. Massive ones.

  Definitely her power. And definitely a defensive maneuver she’d used before.

  “Stop that, kiddo,” Idris said warningly, to no avail.

  He didn’t break his stride, nor did he adjust his hold on the child. Instead, he focused the fire that always burned deep within him and allowed it to gradually rise to the surface of his skin. At first, she’d only feel warmth, and he hoped it’d be enough to startle her and make her stop before the heat grew uncomfortable for her. He didn’t want to hurt her, but he didn’t feel like letting her hurt him, either.

  She didn’t quite react the way he’d expected, however. She was definitely startled, her head jerking up as she took her hands off him, but she immediately threw her arms around his neck, hugging him. It was his turn to be taken aback, enough so that he almost stumbled on the first step going up the staircase.

  Ladybird, who walked next to the other prisoner, supporting him with one hand while aiming the gun upward with the other, looked back. Whatever she thought of the sight they made, she didn’t say, and her features remained unreadable behind her mask before she turned back to look ahead.

  “You’re a dragon too,” the kid said close to Idris’ ear. Her voice was rough and unsteady, the voice of a little girl who’d cried herself to sleep too often, and yet it was full of something bright, like hope, or maybe gratitude.

  Idris held his tongue and didn’t say he was no such thing, didn’t ask what she meant by ‘too’ even though, for the first time since he’d been taken, his curiosity was piqued. Was she a dragon herself, or had she been helped by a dragon in the past? He’d met shifters before—all the members of the Gang of Nine were wolf shifters, for one thing—but he’d never met a dragon. At least, not as far as he knew. He eyed the woman three steps ahead of him, the curves of her ass just about at eye level, and wondered. Ladybird? Might that be a code name for a dragon?

  He shook his head, bringing himself out of his staring before he could do something stupid. He didn’t plan to stay around long enough to know what the woman might be—or how tight her pert little ass truly was under all that leather.

  They reached a landing where two men stood under the cover of a low wall, occasional gunfire coming from above. One of the men was wounded, blood glistening on his upper arm where the shirt was torn, but it didn’t stop him from joining his companion in launching a new volley of gunfire. It provided cover while the four of them hurried out of the stairwell through a door held open with a plastic wedge.

  Idris had no idea where they were. He’d never been in this part of the building before—at least as far as he knew. When they’d taken him out of his cell, he was always blindfolded. But Ladybird looked like she knew where she was going so he hurried after her down a long, empty corridor. Here and there, droplets of blood stained the linoleum like a trail for them to follow, and three bodies were pushed out of the way and right against the wall. The kid’s arms tightened a little more around Idris’ neck.

  They reached a freight elevator. Two armed women held its doors open. A shot of adrenaline coursed through Idris when he realized one of them was clad in a guard uniform and glaring in their direction.

  “Too hot,” the little girl mumbled into his neck.

  He managed to get himself under control. The woman wasn’t a guard. Even now, she was touching her headset and saying, her words crisp and quick, “Ladybird and her flock are here. Fangs, Talons, retreat now, stay on the right side and we’ll cover you. Dreamer, be ready to punch it. ETA one minute.”

  Ushered to the back of the elevator, Idris had a perfect view of the two men from the stairwell running out of it and down the corridor, the door swinging shut behind them but failing to hide renewed gunfire. All three women stood at the front of the elevator, their guns aiming at the door. It started moving just seconds before the men reached the elevator. The women fired. At this distance, the rounds didn’t penetrate the door, but whoever was behind it heard the warning loud and clear and didn’t try to come through.

  The men came in. The metal doors closed. The elevator started going up. Even with eight of them in there, the only sound was the light buzzing of the machinery. The little girl clung tighter still to Idris’ neck, as though silence were more frightening than gunfire. He understood the feeling all too well.

  When the elevator doors opened again, the back of a van was right in front of it, one man inside it. He helped everyone climb in. Idris would have been fine on his own if not for the child half-trying to strangle him. Before they’d all finished sitting on the metal benches, the woman in a guard uniform touched her headset again.

  “Dreamer, go! Alpha, Cerberus, be ready to jump in.”

  The van started moving. The man who’d helped them in stood by the open back, holding himself steady with one hand on a grip attached to the ceiling of the van and the other on the door, stopping it from swinging back and forth. Through the opening, Idris thought he saw bodies on the garage floor. Then they were out—it was night but the air was warm, like it often was in the summer—and two huge dogs jumped into the back.

  No, not dogs, Idris realized at once. Wolves.

  They la
id down at the feet of the woman in charge. The man closed the door. Dreamer, the driver, hit the accelerator.

  The realization that he was out—he was free!—hit Idris all at once. He didn’t realize he’d tightened his hold on the kid until she started wiggling in his arms and protesting, “You’re squishing me!”

  He released her, directing her to sit on the bench, but somehow she ended up leaning against him as though he were a pillow for her use.

  “She’s cute,” the second woman who’d been waiting in the elevator said, pulling her mask off and revealing dark skin and chiseled features. Thin braids cascaded onto her shoulders, the glass beads at the end of each one clinking lightly against each other. “What’s her name?”

  Idris shook his head. He’d heard what the guards called her, but that didn’t mean anything as he well knew.

  “No idea.”

  “She’s not his,” Ladybird interjected. “Just another prisoner on his floor.”

  She looked at the woman in charge when she said that last part. There was something going on there, a brewing argument judging by the cold look the woman gave her in reply. Idris closed his eyes. It was none of his business. As soon as they arrived wherever it was they were going, he was out of there.

  “All clear,” the woman in charge said after a while. “We’re not being followed. The other van thought they were so they took the long way back. They say they’re clear now. They should arrive at the base at about the same time we do.”

  Two or three people whooped. Someone might have high-fived someone else. Idris didn’t move and pretended to be asleep like the kid against his arm.

  “Is the base…” The last prisoner from the lower level cleared his throat. “Are you taking us to Sanctuary?”

  The hope in his words was unmistakable. It was the second time he mentioned this ‘sanctuary.’

  “We have safe houses in town,” the woman in charge said. “We’ll get all of you spread out and lie low for a while, make sure we’re clear, then we’ll start getting you guys to Sanctuary, a few at a time, through different channels so we don’t attract attention. How do you know about Sanctuary?”

  “My sister… she’s there. With her family. I was supposed to join them, but I was taken. Could I get a message to her?”

  Idris tuned out the rest of the conversation. Whatever this place was, whoever these people were, it didn’t matter to him. He’d be on his own again soon, and this time he wouldn’t make the same mistake. This time, he’d stay away from other paras.

  He’d thought he’d found a new family with the Gang of Nine, and in the end they’d betrayed him. Sold him out to the authorities to save their own skins. He’d get his revenge soon, and then he’d get off the grid.

  After another few minutes, the van stopped. Idris opened his eyes, pretending to be waking up. The woman who’d called the kid cute earlier gently picked her up from where she was leaning against Idris’ side and carried her out of the van. Everyone else was climbing down, and Idris followed. They were in some sort of garage. The door was still open. He would just slip out and get away before anyone noticed.

  He looked around him to see if anyone was paying attention to him. The woman in charge had drawn Ladybird to one side and the two were arguing. Medics were seeing to a couple of wounded soldiers, or whatever they were. More shabbily-dressed people—freed paras like him, Idris guessed—were being helped out of a second van. They looked around themselves with various degrees of incredulity and joy. A couple looked fairly old, one looked like a teen, but most seemed to be in their twenties or thirties. None was as young as the ice child.

  Briefly, Idris wondered if he ought to warn his liberators about the kid’s powers. No, they’d figure it out soon enough. He had to get out of here while he still could.

  His eyes widened in appreciation as they suddenly glided over the sleek form of a motorcycle. There were two more close to it, one a gleaming Harley, but this one called to Idris, flames curling around the black body. His decision was made in the blink of an eye. If these people were ready to bleed or die to save him and the others, surely contributing to his transportation needs was nothing in comparison.

  He started toward the bike, once more looking around to see if anyone was paying attention to him. After only three steps, he froze. That man over there by the second van, turning toward him as he looked around the room much like Idris had just done, it couldn’t be—

  Their eyes met and heat flashed through Idris. He smiled, changing his path to go toward Chris instead. He met Idris halfway, his right arm already extended. Idris clasped his forearm and drew his brother into a hug.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “—Never seen anyone in my squad show such disregard for orders!”

  By Violet’s tally, so far Millie had said ‘my squad’ five times, ‘disregard’ twice, and ‘orders’ seven times. It was beginning to be a little repetitive, but she didn’t seem ready to stop her harangue quite yet and from experience Violet knew she had to let her get it out of her system. She even lowered her eyes and looked away as though feeling chastened by the dressing down.

  In truth, she was annoyed more than anything else. They’d held a kid, for crying out loud! Millie might be hardened enough to claim leaving two grown men behind would have been acceptable in order to save the rest of the prisoners, but a kid? Violet would like to see her try saying that with a straight face.

  As Millie continued with her reprimand—in full view of the rest of the squad, of course, so they wouldn’t get any ideas about orders being suggestions—Violet looked around surreptitiously. Hazel had taken the child upstairs, the more the pity. Maybe having her there would have helped Violet make her point faster, once she was allowed to talk. The rest of the freed prisoners were by the vans, some of them still wide-eyed as though not quite believing yet they’d been released. They would be ushered into cars and taken away to safe houses after Millie talked to them, presumably as soon as she was done with Violet.

  “—the decision was mine to make, and yours to execute! If you can’t understand—”

  Not done yet. Violet tuned her out again.

  A little apart from the rest of the prisoners, she suddenly noticed one of the two men she’d rescued—although granted, he’d been on his way to rescuing himself when she’d found him. She still didn’t know his name, but she’d heard the child say he was a dragon. Not a surprise; Violet had seen what he’d done to that guard. Fire was a powerful weapon.

  He was walking toward the rest of the prisoners, and suddenly pulled one of the other men in a hug. They held on to each other long enough for Violet to start wondering if they were tattoo mates. She’d glanced toward the man’s wrist back in that corridor; the impulse was hard to control, even in the middle of an operation, and even more so when the other person’s wrist was completely bare. She hadn’t been able to read his mate’s name, however. The skin in the spot where it should have been was burned and discolored. He wasn’t the first person she knew who hid the name on purpose. She kept hers covered at all times as well. Whomever fate had chosen for her, it concerned no one but her and her mate.

  “—believe your last name will get you out of this one for free, think again! I don’t play favorites.”

  Blinking very slowly, Violet returned her eyes and full attention to Millie. She’d intended to take her sermon and move on, but if this was how Millie intended to play it, it was a whole new game.

  “I never asked you to play favorites,” she said, acutely aware that the squad members around them had fallen silent and would hear every word. “For that matter, I never told you my last name. You went and looked for it in my freaking mind. You asked if I was one of those Littlewings. Should I have lied?”

  She paused briefly but when Millie looked like she would reply, she talked over her.

  “I signed up because the squad is supposed to help paras when no one else will. If we hadn’t gone to that lower level today, how old would that kid have been before
we had a chance to try again?”

  Millie stood up straighter, drawing herself to her full height, but even so she couldn’t quite look Violet in the eye.

  “The argument would hold more water if you’d known there was a kid there,” she said icily.

  Violet snorted. “Oh? So you’re saying it wouldn’t have been worth it if there hadn’t been a kid there? If it had only been—”

  She looked back to where she’d last seen the dragon shifter, already raising her hand to point at him, but the other man was alone now. Alone, and looking to the side of the garage. Violet followed his gaze and gasped.

  “Son of a bitch!”

  The dragon had taken advantage of the argument drawing everyone’s attention to get on her bike, and even as she swore he brought the engine to life with a flick of his wrist on the ignition key. The engine roared. Violet started forward, but already he was gunning it, going straight for the open garage door that no one had closed yet. He was gone before she’d taken three steps.

  “Fucking son of a bitch,” she repeated, more quietly this time, and despite herself she couldn’t help but feel a little awed at the man’s sheer gumption. She’d saved his ass, and to thank her he’d stolen her bike! When she caught him, she was going to teach him a thing or two.

  “Still think he was worth Ryan getting wounded?” Millie asked snidely behind her. “Maybe losing that bike will teach you a thing or two about obeying orders.”

  The echo of her thoughts wasn’t a coincidence, Violet was sure of it. She glanced back at Millie and glared.

  “Stay out of my head.”

  “And you stay here,” Millie replied in a tone that made her words an order. “If you go after him, you’re off my squad. And appealing to your mother won’t help, I’m telling you that right now. Did you hear me, Violet Littlewings?”

  As though Violet’s mother would want to help her keep fighting outside Sanctuary! Millie thought she knew everything there was to know about Violet, but maybe she should have dug deeper into her mind. Not that Violet intended to suggest that much to her.