Burn With Me (9 page)

“So am
I
.” She raised her voice louder than she probably needed to, but it felt good. Less like anger and more like relief. “What else? Because there’s more and we both know it. I know you, Greg. Better than anyone. You’re pissed off.”

“I know you too.” He nodded, letting her go when he noticed the stares they were starting to receive. He stepped closer and lowered his voice. “And I don’t like being left in the dark. Not when it’s important. There’s no way I can protect you if you keep facts from me. If I don’t know what’s going on.
Everything
that’s going on.

“Hopefully we’ll get some answers tonight about…what happened to you. Find out if we can stop it. But it would help if I knew how it started.” He hesitated. “And why you dressed for this meeting like we’re going to one of those fetish clubs you like.”

Aziza looked down at her cat burglar ensemble. The long-sleeved black shirt and leggings. The corset that stopped just below her breasts. She’d felt the need to dress for battle, and this was the opposite of the virginal white Ram had picked out for her. She thought it was appropriate. “What? I’m heading off to a secretive meeting with something obviously supernatural in the dead of night. Is the waist cincher too much?”

His lips twitched. “Maybe the heels.”

She’d been trying to make him laugh but she knew that look. He was disappointed in her. Why?

Because of Ram.

“I thought he was a dream, Greg.” She ran a rough hand through her hair. “A fantasy. Forgive me if I didn’t know having sex with a fantasy would set my goddamn hands on fire.”

His eyes narrowed. “And that’s what I wanted to know. He implied it but you never said. You must have one hell of a fantasy life, Aziza Jane, if you can’t tell the difference when it’s real. I’m jealous.”

“And I’m sorry.” She looked away from him so he wouldn’t see the pain his disapproval always caused her. It brought up the fear that he would cut her off, give up on her, and she’d end up missing the most important part of herself. She took a steadying breath. “I didn’t think it was real. He’d been in my dreams last night and I just thought—I’m sorry. I should have told you everything.”

He made a sound of frustration and pulled her into his arms. “That’s not what I meant. Shit, I don’t even know what I’m saying right now, okay? I’m angry with him, not you. I don’t like being made to look foolish, and I hated seeing you and Penn suffer. Even more when I couldn’t seem to stop it.”

His arms tightened around her. “I’m an asshole. A world-class asshole. But despite that, I’m going to make you promise to watch yourself around him. Anyone who can take someone’s choice away that easily… He’s dangerous, that’s all I’m saying.”

She knew. “I promise I’ll be careful.”

“I’m glad that’s finally out of the way, aren’t you?” Ram’s drawl was a sensual whip laced with sarcasm. And shockingly close. “The tension was unbearable. We expected a sad breakup scene with violins and the soft fall of rain any minute now, didn’t we, Shev?”

Aziza spun on her heel to find Ram standing behind them, still dressed as he had been earlier, his arm around the waist of a beautiful goddess in black who looked enough like him to be related. Two halves of the same whole. Yin and yang.

He wasn’t touching her as if they were related.

Why did that thought make her uncomfortable? “This is Shev?”

“She said my name. After all these months, a real introduction.” The woman glided with feline grace until she was inches away from Aziza. Her smile was sinful, and Aziza couldn’t help but react to her appeal. “Ram calls me Shev because he’s impatient, and I let him because he’s sexy. I’ve yet to meet the man or woman who could resist him, so I’ve decided we simply shouldn’t try. Don’t you agree?”

Her dark, shoulder-length curls and coal-colored lashes were the perfect frame for her amethyst eyes. Shev licked her lower lip slowly and glanced off to the side, distracted by a crowd of young revelers who’d chosen that moment to pass by.

They couldn’t help but stare at the mysterious woman dressed in a nearly sheer black dress, her full breasts encased in a midnight-colored lace bra that was meant to be seen. She was a tempting sight by anyone’s definition, and Aziza couldn’t blame them for slowing down to enjoy the view. She could definitely see the woman granting dirty wishes in harem pants.

As for Shev, she seemed to be savoring the attention. She turned away from the others with a careless, one-shouldered shrug. “Where was I? Yes, the long-awaited introductions. But then I already know you well, Aziza Jane Stewart, born Aziza Ammu, only daughter of Zayid and his delicate English rose.”

She lowered her voice to a faux whisper. “Even if watching you singing in the shower weren’t my favorite pastime, and even if we didn’t obviously have similar fashion sense, I would know you well. Where I’m from, your family is held in high esteem. My people would travel great distances to see the young potentials who lived in the New World. They put themselves in a substantial amount of peril for a glimpse, from what I’ve heard.”

She pointed to Aziza. “You in particular were famous and admired before this past year’s exploits. Now? You’re a star. Everyone is holding their breath to hear what’s next on your bucket list.”

“Watching me—what?” Aziza took a step away from the woman and turned her head toward Ram. He looked sheepish. Guilty. “Have you been watching me in the shower?”

“How could I look away?” Ram repeated his words from the garden, stepping toward her and sending a look of true irritation in Shev’s direction. “We were only recently reassigned to you for your protection, so you may take comfort in that, if nothing else. Ignore most of what she says, Aziza. I fear she doesn’t know the meaning of the word
subtle
.”

“What did she mean about others traveling great distances? How many of you are there?”

“
She
meant exactly what she said. Isn’t it one of sweet Gregory’s favorite stories? All the snakes in Aziza’s yard?” Shev moved past them and wrapped her arms around Greg’s neck, making Aziza aware of just how quiet he’d been since Shev and Ram’s arrival.

“You were
not
my assignment,” Shev murmured to Greg, “but that didn’t stop me from enjoying our time together in the dungeon. Sadly, I wasn’t allowed to physically participate since it was within the realm of possibility that the wannabe dominatrix would cause you actual pain…but I helped.”

Greg’s cheeks heated, but he didn’t silence her or push her away. He wasn’t saying anything at all. Not even about the snakes. And he wasn’t moving. Aziza was instantly suspicious. “Are you doing something to him?”

Shev pressed her breasts against Greg’s chest and purred. “To your big American bodyguard?” she asked, repeating Penn’s nickname for him. “Only if you let me, Fireborne. I promise if you do, I’ll make it memorable for him. You could watch if you like.”

“Enough.” Ram’s command was terse but powerful. “Perhaps you can find a more appropriate time to stir trouble and share all our secrets, my dearest one. The meeting with our counterpart is minutes away, and our charge is still in danger.”

That word seemed to snap Greg out of his stupor. He tore his attention away from the tempting curves pressed against him long enough to glare at Ram. “Danger? As in, something-worse-than-you danger?”

“And I thought we were becoming friends.” Ram pretended to pout in disappointment and glanced at Aziza. “I assume you are going to demand the human be present for this?”

“I am.”

He nodded as if he expected nothing less. “Shev, no more pushing the boy. He is hers, therefore he is ours to protect, not use as a toy. Let’s hope
he
feels the same way.”

Ram had already begun to move in the direction of their meeting place before Aziza could grab his arm.

“Wait,” she demanded. “You said if we met you here, we would get answers. That you’d explain what happened today.”

“We’ll tell you all we can. Shev received partial dispensation only. I believe the general wording was that while we can guide you, we cannot lead you.” He caught her eye and she saw something. Regret? Before she could be sure, he moved away from her touch. “Perhaps he will have more lenient leadership. But we must make the meeting to find out.”

Greg had caught up with them, obviously released by the clinging seductress. “Who is
he
? I thought we were meeting with you.”

For a moment Aziza wondered if the mysterious “he” was Brandon. Was that why he’d been watching her? Following her? Why she reacted to him so strongly?

They reached the corner and stopped to watch the cars pass. Aziza’s eyebrows lowered in confusion and she stopped thinking about her hunky giant. “
This
is where we’re meeting? At that statue?”

“Definitely that statue.” Shev came up behind her and pinched her ass through her snug black leggings. She laughed at Aziza’s squeak of surprise. “Couldn’t resist. I love this look on you. I also love a man on horseback, don’t you? Makes me think about chivalry and…saddles. Which brings us back to your sweet, sweet ass.”

The bronze statue of King Charles the First
was
nice, she supposed, though there was nothing particularly unique about it. It was also right in the center of everything, an island of brick and stone surrounded by paved roads bustling with late night traffic. And there were people all around the statue itself, some walking beside bicycles, others on their way to somewhere else. Most of the tubes stopped running at midnight, so it wasn’t as crowded as it could have been, but it
was
still crowded. Another difference between the States and England—people actually seemed to enjoy walking more than driving.

This place was public, as he’d promised, but not exactly conducive to any kind of serious conversation. “If this isn’t a private meeting, couldn’t we have gone to a pub or something?” She already knew she was going to need another drink.

Ram crossed the street backward, an amused expression on his beautiful face. “I keep forgetting to explain things, don’t I? This isn’t an ordinary assignment for us, you know. We didn’t spend our formative years training for battle just to wind up raising a baby Fireborne.”

Shev snorted, following his lead. “Now who’s stirring up trouble? Don’t take it personally, Aziza. We were warriors, soldiers by trade, before this assignment. Since we haven’t had a good war in a while, that meant endless training drills. Not as much fun as it sounds, but you can’t deny it kept us in excellent condition.” She ran her hands over her own perfect curves appreciatively.

“Ram never enjoyed how often our workouts interrupted his leisure activities anyway, so I’m not sure why he’s pretending to complain about our transfer.”

Shev waved her hands as if to erase her tangent. “But back to your question. This particular eccentricity is something we usually take for granted. Any meeting of this nature, for everyone’s protection, must be held in a specific location. And all clever warriors learn at an early age where to find neutral ground. Middle ground. A place in the heart where accord can be found.”

“The statue is ‘a place in the heart’?” She was dubious. And incredibly confused.

Greg, however, was doing a better job of keeping up. “’Middle ground’. I think she means the center. Charing Cross
is
the center of London.”

Ram stepped up onto the circular rise of brick and clapped. “Give the human a treat. Yes. The exact center. The heart, as it were, where balance can be measured and truth must be spoken. Or should be. The center is a natural gathering place for enemies.”

Enemies?

“Be thankful it’s just a statue in the road,” Shev added wryly as Aziza and Greg joined them a few feet away from the bronze King Charles. “Not all city centers are this attractive, trust me. Once we held a meeting in a men’s bathroom at a gas station. At first I believed it would be an enjoyable experience for me.” She shuddered. “I was mistaken.”

Aziza turned in her tracks and gripped Greg’s forearms, feeling nauseous and more uncertain than ever. “Why do I suddenly wish I were back at home hiding in my mother’s pantry?”

“Because you’re a smart girl,” Greg answered swiftly, glancing at the crowd over her shoulder and speaking softly. “We agreed to meet to get a few answers, and I don’t know about you, but all I’ve got are more questions. Did you catch what they keep calling you?”

She did. “
Fireborne.
” She’d been wondering about it since this afternoon. “At least it’s not Fire
starter
or Rosemary’s baby. That’s a plus.”

Greg snorted. “Don’t make me laugh, brat, this is serious. They’re obviously expecting another guy to join us. Maybe he’ll be more informative.”

“Oh, to be human and have hope,” Ram murmured right beside them, causing them both to jump. How did he move so quickly? Silently? “Apologies for the interruption but we have seconds left. Do you see those posts around the statue? Yes? You need to be on the inside of those, closest to the cherub-faced pedestal. Keep ahold of your human so he can join us. And, Aziza—” he paused until she was looking into his eyes before his tone changed to one of seduction, “—I’m glad to see you wearing my gift. Though despite Shev’s penchant for tight pants and my personal love of you in a corset of any kind, I do wish you hadn’t changed out of your dress. I have fond memories.”

Her heart started to race. His words were harmless enough, but the way he’d said them was almost sexual, reminding her of their earlier encounter.

Reminding her of her dream.

“Personally, I’d like her better in jeans,” Greg grumbled. “She could run faster in jeans.”

He took her arm and began to walk toward the statue. “Let’s get this over with. I’m hoping in an
entirely
human way that this other guy is less irritating than your new boyfriend.”

“He’s not my boyfri—” Aziza’s words were stalled by the wall of static electricity she’d apparently just walked through. She glanced up, wondering if he’d felt it too. “What was that?”

She was answered by a new voice that sounded helpful, if prepubescent. “It is not that difficult to explain. The vibratory energy conducted when all points converge on a central location is tantamount to a—”