Fireborn (30 page)

I headed for the trees and tried not to jar Jackson's broken limbs too much—an impossible task given that he was forced to hop. After several minutes of doing so, he began to swear vehemently. I stopped immediately—which only caused another round of swearing.

“Damn it,” he said, between gritted teeth. “Just keep going.”

I did, moving as slowly as I could, trying to keep an eye on the vamps behind us as the awareness of the threat still hiding in the trees grew. To make matters worse, the dusk was fading and darkness would soon be upon us.

And darkness was the vampires' ally, not ours.

But I couldn't go any faster. Jackson was a big man, and it was taking everything I had to keep him upright. Sweat dribbled down my face and back, and the scent stung the sweet evening air until all I could smell was it and fear.

We inched along, slowly drawing closer to the trees. I glanced at the skies and hoped like hell Rory was watching. That he'd be ready.

The shadows reached for us, though their grasp was anything but comforting. Those shadows
held dangerous secrets, and I wasn't looking forward to their revelation.

One problem at a time,
I reminded myself fiercely. And that, right now, was the vampires at our backs.

I looked over my shoulder. The cool-voiced vampire remained in the middle of the clearing, his arms crossed and his expression sitting somewhere between amusement and contempt.

Something was very definitely about to happen—and it
wasn't
us getting free.

“That is far enough, Emberly Pearson. If you do not release the backpack from its flames, we will unfortunately be forced to attack.”

“Don't do it,” Jackson muttered. “They'll attack the minute they have the laptop.”

“And they'll attack if they don't get it,” I murmured. “But never fear. I do have a trick or two up my sleeve.”

“I hope they're damn good ones, because we're not exactly in a great state here. Or at least, I'm not.”

“You
do
rather look like shit.” I came to a halt. Tension—or maybe it was pain—rippled through Jackson's muscular frame. “But the big question is, are you shit that can use flame?”

His snort was one of amusement, but it quickly became a groan. “God, don't make me do that. But yeah, I can.”

“Good, because there's something in the trees and it's getting ready to attack.” My gaze met the
cool-voiced vampire's again, and I raised my voice as I added, “Remember your promise, vampire.”

And with that, I waved a hand, the gesture grander than it needed to be, but I had to be sure Rory spotted it. The flames skittered away from the backpack and quickly faded into the ether of the evening.

The cowboy stepped forward, picked up the pack, and withdrew the laptop. The pack itself was contemptuously thrown to one side and skidded underneath one of the parked cars.

“Thank you for upholding your end of our deal. And now—”

I had no idea what else he said, because his words were lost in an explosion of flame. They sprang from the earth itself, a wild and tempestuous storm that burned with all the colors of creation.

Rory, connecting with the great mother to provide a barrier around the parking lot to keep the vampires contained.

“That,” Jackson said heavily, “is one hell of a trick to have up your sleeve.”

“Yeah, but it only accounts for one problem, not the other. Let's get out of here while we still can.”

We moved on as quickly as Jackson was able. The power of the flames that danced at our backs rippled across my skin, drawing answering sparks that shot into the shadows like little tiny comets. Under normal circumstances, I would have tried
to control the output, if only because such a show gave away our position. But it was pointless to do so here; whoever—
whatever
—was out there knew exactly where we were, sparkly show or not.

Besides, between the sparks and the fire at our backs, Jackson surely had enough fire to amplify and use.

Jackson's breathing became more labored the farther we went into the trees. He didn't say anything, but the trembling was far worse, and his body was drenched in sweat. I couldn't see him making it to the car. And while I
could
drag him, I certainly wouldn't be able to get him up and over the fence. And Rory needed all his strength to maintain that fire barrier.

“It's not that far now,” I muttered. “You have to keep going, Jackson.”

“Don't fucking worry about me.” The words were little more than short, sharp expulsions of air. “Worry about the things—”

Something hit us side-on, with such force it tore Jackson from my grasp and sent me stumbling into the trees. I crashed into the trunk of a tree and crumpled to a heap at its base, seeing stars and fighting for breath. Heat exploded across the air, accompanied by the sharp smell of eucalyptus as the trees around me burst into flame. I groaned, rolled onto my back, and forced my eyes open.

And saw, in the dancing gleam of fire, Jackson—on his back, flames shooting from both his good hand and his body as he fought to keep a
snarling, writhing, red-cloaked figure away from his neck.

Red cloaks . . . Holy fuck, the red cloaks were working
with
the vampires.

The thought quickly died as several of them appeared in my line of vision. Their unscarred faces were twisted, their mouths open, as if screaming, though no sound came out. I swore and scrambled upright, backing away fast and calling to the fire within. I was halfway through the change when they hit me and sent me flying. I crashed to the ground with a grunt—a sound I repeated as the bastards flung themselves on top of me and began tearing at whatever remaining bit of flesh they could find with wickedly sharp nails and teeth. A scream tore up my throat, but it was lost to the roar of flames as I became full spirit. The red cloaks burned, but they didn't seem to care, tearing and biting at flesh that no longer existed.

And they sure as hell weren't burning fast enough for my liking.

My flames became incandescent. The red cloaks screamed then, but the sound was quickly cut off as their flesh cindered and their bones became little more than ash, which the force of my fires blew away. I flowed upright and arrowed toward Jackson. The red cloak he held was little more than a fleshy torch, but again the creature didn't seem to care. Two others tore at Jackson's legs, taking little notice of his efforts to kick them away or the flames that were searing their flesh. I flicked a ribbon of fire around their necks, drew the noose
tight, then ripped them away from him, rising upward and dragging them with me, high into the treetops. They kicked and screamed and fought my rope, but there was only one way they were going to get free—and that was when my noose burned right through their flesh and separated their heads from their bodies. I lashed my fiery rope to the trunk of the tree, then swirled back down and grabbed the other red cloak. Him I simply flung at the nearest tree, then tied securely with another ribbon of fire.

More red cloaks came at us. I twisted away from them, the movement so swift my flames trailed behind me like a comet's tail. I threw up a wall of fire between them and Jackson, then reached for the earth mother. Felt the trembling in the ground underneath me as she responded. Then her energy exploded through me, a wild force that this time would not be contained or in any way directed. But it wrapped almost lovingly around the five red cloaks and cindered them in an instant.

Then it retreated, leaving me shaken and back in flesh form. I scrubbed a trembling hand across my face, smearing wetness, then forced myself upright and staggered across to Jackson.

His arm was torn and bleeding, and there were chunks of flesh missing from his legs. But he forced himself upright with his one good arm and said, “Let's get the fuck out of here.”

“No,” I bit back, my gaze skating through the shadows. The red cloaks hadn't finished with us yet; of that I was sure. “Not before you take my
fire into yourself and burn the virus from your body.”

“Em, now is
not
—”

“You were bitten by
red
cloaks,” I reminded him fiercely. “And no one knows if the Fae are affected by it. The only thing I'm sure of is that I'm
not
. As a fire Fae, you should be capable of taking in the fires of a phoenix without being cindered.”

“I guess death by flame is a hell of a lot better than a descent into madness.” He hesitated. “Have you ever tried anything like this before? Heard of anything like this being tried before?”

“No and no.”

“That's what I was afraid of.” He took a deep breath and released it. “You need to straighten my leg before we can attempt this. If I can chase the virus from my system through your flames, then I sure as hell can heal other wounds as well.”

I glanced at his leg. It was sitting at an odd angle, with a ragged piece of bone protruding through bloodied flesh. It wasn't going to be easy to straighten it—for him or me.

But then, moving with it in this state couldn't have been pleasant, either.

I turned, but moved too quickly and had to slam a hand down to stop my face from planting itself into the dirt. I waited till the slight bout of dizziness eased, then, a little more cautiously, moved to the other end of Jackson's body.

“You ready?” I said as I gripped his foot.

He nodded, his expression grim. I didn't give him any warning, just simply did it. It ripped a
scream from his throat, and the sound echoed through the trees. Somewhere in the distance I thought I heard laughter and wondered if it was the cool-voiced vampire or someone else.

I flamed, felt Jackson latch on to my fires, on to
me
, drawing all that I was into him, through him. Fire and flesh become one, and then there was no flesh, no him, and no me, just one united being of flame. And while it wasn't in any way sexual, it was nevertheless an incredible sensation.

Then the connection broke. The suddenness of it slammed me backward, and for several seconds it was all I could do to suck in air and remain conscious.

“Em?” Jackson's voice was as weak as I felt. “You okay? I didn't hurt you?”

“No.” I felt like hell, and there was little more than ash in the storage banks right now, but I was alive. “You?”

“Same.” He paused. “The leg and arm are only half-healed.”

“You're lucky it did that.” I pushed upright. “Phoenixes generally aren't capable of healing their wounds with fire. That's why I still have scars on my back.”

“Yeah, but I'm Fae, and we
can
use our elements to heal.”

“I'm not an element. I'm a being.”

Behind me, to my left, a leaf snapped. I swung around, sparks halfheartedly dancing across my fingertips. Saw a ghostly, gray-cloaked figure watching me, the cowled hood deep enough to
hide his face and yet, oddly, not his eyes. They glowed with an unearthly blue fire and were filled with such hate it shook me to the core.

“You,” he said, the words soft, yet carrying easily on the evening air, “will yet be mine.”

Then he was gone, leaving me not only shaking, but wondering what the hell was going on. Nothing we'd discovered so far was adding up, and the only thing we could really be certain about was that there was something a
whole
lot bigger than our investigation into the murders of the two scientists going on.

Something—if the stranger's words were anything to go by—that would drag me far deeper into this whole mess.

Red cloaks appeared and charged as one. I raised my hands and backpedaled fast—only to trip over something and fall ass over tit. I landed on my back, had a glimpse of claws thicker than my arm, and quickly glanced up. It wasn't trees that filled my vision; it was fire. Not mine, not Jackson's, but Rory's. I flung out a hand and added what little fire I had left to his. The red cloaks were hit by the joint wall and had little hope. In a very short time, they were ashen blobs on the forest floor—blobs that the wind picked through and scattered.

Silence returned to the forest.

For several minutes, I didn't move. I could no longer hear the crackle of Rory's containment circle, but I had no sense that anyone was near.
Perhaps the cool-voiced vampire had indeed kept his word and retreated rather than attacked. But then, if he
was
working with whoever controlled the red cloaks—and I very much suspected that
that
person was the gray-cloaked figure I'd seen—he had no real need to attack. Not given that he obviously expected them to take us out.

I pushed to my feet, brushed sweaty strands of hair out of my eyes, and met Jackson's gaze. “You up to getting out of here?”

“Yeah.” He raised his good arm, and I hauled him to his feet again. This time the effort left me panting.

“We're a damn fine pair, aren't we?” He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and leaned on me heavily.

“Seems we're perfectly matched when it comes to finding trouble,” I agreed. My gaze swept the trees around us. That gray-cowled figure was still out there somewhere; his presence was like a canker in the fast-fading light of the sunset.

You will yet be mine,
he'd said.

A shiver ran down my spine. I had no idea who he was—or even
what
he was. I only knew he was someone better avoided.

And why the hell would he want me? It wasn't like I had any special talent. Yes, I was a phoenix capable of taking several different forms, but that didn't make me any more special than Jackson—or any other nonhuman, for that matter.

So why me?

I had no idea—but it was very obvious sometime in the near future I was going to find out.

Trepidation trembled through me, but I thrust it aside.
One problem at a time,
I reminded myself yet again.

And that, right now, was getting the hell out of this forest.