Burning Violet_Lick of Fire Page 5

  Blinking, Idris drew himself out of dark memories and turned toward her. She was setting down two plates loaded with food on the low table in front of the sofa. Idris’ stomach growled. The smell of all things greasy, unhealthy and delicious curled around him and pulled him forward. He was sitting down and picking up a plate before he even remembered what he’d been about to say. Even then, he practically inhaled a slice of bacon before saying, “Not sure what you think I am, but I don’t fly.”

  Curled up at the other end of the sofa with her legs under her and the plate balanced on her thighs, Ladybird arched an eyebrow at him.

  “You don’t? You mean, you’re not a dragon?”

  “Nope.”

  She’d made an omelet of the eggs and it was cooked to perfection, neither overdone nor still runny. It was all he could do not to groan in pleasure. After months of limited, flavorless rations, even fast food had seemed like a feast, but this… this was the kind of breakfast he’d be happy to wake up to for the rest of his life.

  “But the kid said you were a dragon,” she persisted. “And you set that guard on fire.”

  She’d barely touched her own food, he noticed while starting to work on his hash browns. The temptation to reach over and grab an extra forkful of eggs from her plate was hard to resist.

  “That doesn’t make me a dragon. Disappointed I’m not like you?”

  She scoffed and finally started on her eggs. Pity.

  “I’m not a dragon either.”

  She brought a second forkful of eggs up to her mouth and caught him staring. She looked startled for a second, then rolled her eyes. Leaning over, she brought her plate close to his and pushed the remainder of the eggs onto his plate without a word—although she stole a sausage. Fair exchange, Idris supposed. He flashed her a smile of thanks and asked, “So what kind of bird are you, then, Ladybird?”

  “You first,” she shot back.

  Silence fell on the room as they continued to eat and observe each other sideways. Should he tell her? He wasn’t in the habit of telling people he barely knew what he could do. Then again, she had helped him get out of that hellhole.

  “Something to drink?” she asked when, done with her food, she stood and held her hand out for his empty plate. When he nodded, she added, “Orange juice or water?”

  “Is it too early for a beer? Whiskey? Vodka, even.”

  On her way to the kitchen, she flashed him an amused look over her shoulder.

  “I’m afraid this is a dry house. My boss doesn’t believe in the healing powers of alcohol. But tell me what it is you do and I might take you out to a nice bar I know once we’re safe.”

  Once they were safe? He didn’t intend to stick around that much longer, didn’t she understand that? He’d stuck with paras once before, and he’d had long months in hell to regret it. This time, he would keep a low profile, and stay away from anyone the government might have an interest in.

  But if that was really his intention, why did he wait until she was coming back to the sitting area with two glasses of orange juice to raise his hand in front of him and make a ball of fire appear in his palm?

  CHAPTER SIX

  The fire in Idris’ hand burned so brightly it was almost completely white, and even from a few feet away Violet could feel its heat against her face and bare arms. She came closer, setting the two glasses of orange juice on the table without taking her eyes off the flames.

  She couldn’t have said why she reached for them exactly. Maybe it was simply the old attraction to fire, something that had been part of her for as long as she remembered. Or maybe it was because it was Idris’ fire. She’d never met a pyromancer before. How utterly perfect that he was the one fate had decided to make hers!

  “What are you… No!”

  The fire went out with Idris’ exclamation, disappearing as swiftly as it had appeared. Some people had trouble controlling their powers, but it seemed it wasn’t the case for him.

  “Are you crazy?” he asked, his eyes blazing. “Fire that hot, it’d have burned you to the bone!”

  She shook her head, smiling softly, but before she could tell him what she was, tell him who she was, too, steps coming down from the second floor drew her attention to the staircase. Millie appeared on the landing, and if for a second or two she looked confused, it didn’t last, and soon she was scowling as she advanced toward Violet, a general marching to battle.

  “No,” she said in a hard voice. “Absolutely not. You don’t get to disobey direct orders and then stroll in here like you own the place. Get out.”

  Great. Just what Violet needed right now: to argue with someone who couldn’t look any further than her own idea of duty. There had to be a name tattooed under the sleeve of Millie’s crisp uniform, but if she gave a damn about fated mates, she’d certainly never shown it. Better not mention who Idris was to Violet. Instead, she said, “I found him! See?”

  She gestured at Idris, as though Millie might not notice a six and a half foot tall man standing just a couple of yards from her.

  Millie barely spared him a glance.

  “So you did. But that doesn’t change the fact that you challenged my authority in front of the entire squad. You’re out. Now get out of my sight.”

  “But—”

  Whatever Violet had been about to say disappeared in the sudden barrage of noise that filled her mind. She pressed her fingers to her temples, grunting with effort as she tried to push Millie out of her mind. If anything the noise sharpened a little more, going from merely uncomfortable to a full on migraine.

  “What are you doing to her?” Idris asked, his voice distorted through the mental assault.

  “Encouraging her to leave,” Millie replied. “It’s unpleasant, but it won’t hurt her. It’ll stop as soon as she goes.”

  Unpleasant was certainly right, but Violet would have objected about the ‘not hurting’ part. The sound was so debilitating that dark spots were beginning to appear in front of her vision. Even so, she could see Idris stomp past her and toward Millie. She caught his arm just in time, stopping him before he could reach her. Getting into Millie’s face now, or even threatening her, would help nothing.

  “Don’t,” was all she managed to say.

  She was starting to feel vaguely nauseous. She clung to Idris’ arm a little harder, needing an anchor or she’d start wavering. By now, even if she tried to leave, she wasn’t sure she could do it on her own without stumbling or tripping over her own feet. Did Millie realize how much she was affecting Violet, or was she allowing her aggravation to get the best of her? Violet suspected the latter and she would have called Millie on it if she’d been able to speak. Instead, she leaned toward the staircase, hoping Idris would understand she wanted to go. He did, and helped her through the room and down the steps.

  He shot some parting words toward Millie, but they didn’t register in Violet’s buzzing mind, nor did Raphael’s worried inquiry down in the garage. She shook her head lightly and gave him her best try at an apologetic look. Idris said something to him as he helped Violet climb onto the bike behind him. She pressed her face to his jacket and the cool leather was something of a relief to her aching mind. He pushed off the kickstand and walked the bike out, Raphael having opened the garage door. She couldn’t say a word, but she was grateful he wasn’t adding to the noise in her head with the rumbling of the engine.

  At the moment she passed the door, the indistinct noise filling her mind simply vanished, leaving behind what felt like the residue of a headache.

  “Feeling better?” Idris asked, twisting on the bike to look back at her.

  “Fuck,” she replied. Eloquence was beyond her at that moment.

  Idris chuckled wryly.

  “Yeah, I’ll agree with you on that one. Your boss is a real bitch, huh?”

  “Not my boss anymore, and it’s not a word I like to use toward women, but I can’t argue with you right now.”

  He looked to the end of the street, bringing the engine to
life. The familiar vibrations of the bike under Violet were as much of a comfort as the feel of a strong body in her arms.

  “Think we’re safe riding through the city? It hasn’t even been an hour. If the police are still around, they’ll spot us before we can get far.”

  She had to agree on that. Thankfully, there was something she could do about it.

  “I’ll disguise us. Give me a sec.”

  “Disguise?” he repeated, but she didn’t explain. He’d see soon enough.

  She took a couple of deep breaths to dissipate the last of her migraine and to focus her thoughts. She had to picture what she wanted very precisely in her mind, much more so than when she was only working on herself. Creating clothes on her body and keeping them in place was something she did easily; it required no more thought than breathing. But covering someone else, and even the bike, was trickier. She wouldn’t be able to sustain it forever, but she would at least buy them enough time to get out of town.

  The image firmed up within her mind, and she pushed it out toward the outside. Her feathers lengthened and stretched, their colors matching what Violet was imagining. They swept over the body of the bike beneath them and covered the fire paintjob on a black background until the bike looked light blue. They also covered Idris, disguising his leather gear into a white riding suit and helmet, and a matching ensemble for herself.

  “What the hell…”

  “You showed me yours,” she said. “It’s only fair I show you mine. Now get us out of here, I can’t hold this forever.”

  He took her words to heart and zoomed down the street. She thought of warning him to slow down, but she raised herself to get a peek over his shoulder at the speedometer and saw he was staying right at the speed limit. Odd how it seemed to her they were going faster than that. Was it maybe because her heart was beating so fast?

  She’d found her mate. She’d shared a meal with him. Small talk. She’d started getting to know him…

  And then she’d lost their shelter and her job. Not a particularly good start. She wondered what Idris thought of all this. He’d helped her even without knowing her name—without knowing they were destined to be mates. His brother had said he didn’t want a mate, so maybe if he’d known who she was he wouldn’t have helped her. She had to tell him, though. She couldn’t keep something so important from him. At the first occasion, she’d…

  She lost her train of thoughts when she noticed a black van parked a block ahead of them on the side of the road. Her breath caught in her throat. Without quite realizing what she was doing, she tightened her arms around Idris. He might have understood her sudden unease because he briefly rested his left hand over hers and squeezed. With his hand back to the handles, he changed lanes and took a side street before they could pass by the van.

  It might have been nothing. After all, the UIPP, the Unit for Investigation of Paranormal Persons, didn’t have a monopoly on black vans. Still, Violet felt better as they drove away from it.

  Or at least she did until she noticed a second van, this one driving on the opposite side of the road. It crossed paths with them without slowing down, but Violet couldn’t help but look back and check it wasn’t making a sudden U-turn.

  “Take the next right,” she said close to Idris’ ear. Her feathers might look like a helmet around his head, but they wouldn’t stop her voice from reaching him. “Then follow the signs to the highway. If we’re not followed, get to the first rest area.”

  He nodded, showing her he understood, and navigated the traffic as smoothly as though it’d been his own bike he was riding. Violet much preferred being in control of the bike than being a passenger, but now wasn’t the time to argue about that. Besides, to her own surprise she was finding she didn’t mind all that much having nothing more to do than hold on to Idris.

  She’d dreamed about meeting her mate ever since she’d grown old enough that boys didn’t seem quite so ‘icky’ anymore. She’d spent a considerable amount of time wondering what Idris would look like, what he would be like, whether he would be a para, too, or just a normal human being. So far, every part of him was even better than what she could have hoped for… although she might have been a little biased, knowing they were destined to be together.

  All while keeping an eye out for police cars and ominous black vans, she let her thoughts drift toward all the questions she’d always wanted to ask her mate. She didn’t know which one she’d start with. Would, “Can you kiss me now please?” be too forward?

  They left town without her spotting another van, but she couldn’t shake the bad feeling she’d had upon seeing two of them so close to the safe house. When she spotted a sign for a rest area, she tapped Idris’ shoulder, reminding him of her request.

  He exited the highway smoothly, coming to a stop in the furthest part of the rest area, where they were not only alone but also out of sight of the main parking lot. Killing the engine, Idris dismounted the bike. As he did so, Violet’s feathers retracted, coming back to cover only her body with the outfit she wore most often while on the bike, a pair of faded jeans and a white t-shirt. Even as she changed, she drew her feathers away from the cell phone she kept close to her body at all times and took it in hand.

  “How did you do that?” Idris asked, considering her with an awestruck look.

  “Phoenix feathers can mimic anything,” she replied as she dialed Millie’s number.

  “Phoenix? Is that what you are?”

  She only nodded as she listened to the ring tone. Would Millie even bother picking up? She could think whatever she wanted about Violet, she could even kick her out—and she had—but Violet had joined this fight for one main reason: help paras. If she didn’t say anything about those vans and Millie, Raphael and the two shifters they were escorting ended up suffering for it, it’d be on her.

  On the fifth ring, Millie finally picked up.

  “I’ve got nothing to say to you.”

  “Good,” Violet retorted. “Then maybe you can listen. On our way out of the safe house, we saw two vans. Same model the UIPP uses. I can’t be sure they were from—”

  “Where?” Millie interrupted sharply.

  Violet gave her the vans’ approximate locations at the time. Millie was silent for a few seconds before offering a grudging word of thanks.

  “But that doesn’t change anything,” she immediately added. “You’re still off the squad.”

  “Nice to talk to you too,” Violet said with a snort, and hung up the call.

  “Why warn them?” Idris asked. “That woman kicked you out, so they’re not your problem anymore.”

  “They never were a ‘problem’ to begin with. Some of them are the best friends I’ve ever had. And I know why Millie kicked me out. I’m not happy about it, but I did disobey direct orders. Twice. And both times I got you out of trouble, I might add.”

  He crossed his arms in a gesture that might have been foreboding if not for his crooked smile.

  “Yeah? So are you saying I should be grateful or something? ‘Cause the way I see it, you couldn’t have carried the kid and helped that limping guy all by yourself, back in that jail. And you couldn’t have come out of that house on your own two feet with your boss messing with your head. Looks to me like we’re even.”

  “Nope. Not even yet. I fed you breakfast. Next meal is your treat.”

  He laughed at that, an actual laugh rather than the chuckles she’d heard from him so far. It might have been the sweetest sound Violet had ever heard, and it was all she could do not to jump in his arms right then and there.

  ‘’Well, I suppose it would be poor manners to leave you stranded out here,” he said, stroking his chin as though he was actually thinking it over.

  “Especially since it’s my bike,” she pointed out. “Do you even know where you’re going?”

  He shrugged. “That’s the thing with highways. You can get pretty much anywhere you want.”

  “Sanctuary is west from here. A few days of riding, less if we
take turns.”

  Even when he said, “We’ll see,” she could already hear the ‘no’ in his voice. She didn’t push it. There’d be time to convince him later.

  “So, put some distance between us and the police, and then lunch is on you?” she asked.

  He looked at her with his head tilted to one side, passing his tongue over his lips like she was on the menu. She couldn’t say she minded all that much.

  “Lunch? We had breakfast half an hour ago, you can’t be hungry already! Although we could find a way to work up an appetite before that…”

  A waggle of his eyebrows made it clear exactly what he meant. She wouldn’t have minded that either, but they had time. They had the rest of their lives, in fact. And besides, she really was a little hungry.

  “Ever used your powers continuously at a high intensity for half an hour?” she countered.

  His expression turned almost contrite. “Right. Lunch. Now?”

  “No, I’ll be fine. Let’s just get as far from the city as we can before we stop again.”

  He climbed back onto the bike and she straddled the seat behind him, leaning close to his ear to whisper, “Maybe we can work up that appetite later for dinner.”

  At these words, Idris, who had handled the bike as though it were an extension of his own body until now, let the engine stall. Violet buried a laugh into his back and tried very hard to keep her hands locked around his stomach rather than allowing them to settle lower. They’d have time for that later, too.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  As much as Idris loved wearing leather, there was no denying that it could make riding less than comfortable when he was aroused—and god, was he ever. After months without so much as seeing a woman, he would have flirted with anyone willing. He just hadn’t expected this particular woman to flirt back so quickly.

  After all, whether they kept score on who had saved whom or not the fact remained that he’d stolen her bike. If someone had ever done that to him, he’d have been pissed, but she seemed to have forgiven that transgression easily enough, even allowing him to drive without so much as a protest… unless she wanted to torture him as punishment. Her hands did seem to slide lower and lower across his middle as time passed. They’d stopped once for gas a little earlier, and the look she’d given him then made it quite clear she knew exactly what she was doing.