Fireborn (7 page)

I pulled up the chair and got to work, accessing his network and then entering his cloud site. To discover it was empty. Totally empty.

The bastards had not only
accessed
his site but erased all his files. And the only way they could have done that was via Mark. I wondered how long he'd lasted before he'd given up his secrets. I guess if his battered state was anything to go by, it had been quite a while, and for that I could only admire him. Many a stronger man would have suffered far less before giving in.

I studied the screen for a few moments longer, then clicked back into the activity screen. The information had been accessed at 9:20 and then removed at 3:45 a.m.—hours after Mark had been
killed and the institute ransacked. Why? If they'd wanted to ensure they were the sole owners of all his notes, why not erase it immediately?

I didn't know. Probably wouldn't ever know, given Sam wasn't likely to bother me again once I'd handed over all the information I could. And given they apparently had open orders to kill the virus-afflicted, I very much suspected that whoever was behind the professor's death wouldn't exactly be getting his day in court if caught.

I leaned back in the chair and rubbed my eyes for a moment. It had been a long day, and all I really wanted to do was go home and go to sleep before I went to breakfast with a certain Fae. But I needed to complete my task here and get Sam out of my life again, and the sooner I went through the rest of this mess, the better.

With a sigh, I pushed upright and got to it. It was close to eleven by the time I'd finished. I picked up the laptop and left Mark's apartment—hopefully for the final time—then made my way downstairs. The back of my neck began to prickle as I neared the ground floor, and I frowned, glancing around quickly. I couldn't see anyone in the shadows, couldn't feel any body heat, and yet . . . someone was watching me.

And while the sensation might have been nothing more than tiredness and an overactive imagination, I nevertheless hurried out of the building. Only it wasn't just cold, but raining.

“Fantastic,” I muttered, shoving the computer under my coat. “Just fucking fantastic.”

Shivering, I ran toward the crisp white and pink glow of Magenta's lights.

The sensation of being watched didn't fade.

It grew.

And they were no longer just watching, but following.

I
ran on, but all my senses were trained behind me. Whoever it was, they were little more than the occasional whisper of footsteps and a distant shimmer of heat that was too cool to be human.

Vampire.

Fear and panic surged, making my heart race and a cold sweat break out across my skin. I could protect myself better than most, but I'd been attacked by a rogue vamp in a past life, and it was an experience I had no wish to repeat. Legend might suggest a vampire's bite was orgasmic—and they certainly could be—but it was a harrowing, hateful thing when you were an unwilling victim.

And the bastard had killed me, too, simply because he'd caught me off guard and had ripped out my throat before I could fully react. And if a phoenix died before their allotted one-hundred-year span was over, the subsequent rebirth was a wretched, traumatic experience.

I shivered, suddenly thankful Magenta's was close. I raced for the warm pink glow of the bar, slowing only once I'd reached it. A quick glance
behind me didn't reveal my follower, but if it
was
a vamp, I wouldn't see him. The bastards were well able to surround themselves in shadows and all but disappear.

At least I was safe for the moment. Whoever it was would hardly make a move in front of so many people.

I shook the rain from my hair, then unzipped my jacket and held the laptop in one hand as I made my way through the crowd hanging around the front of the place, smoking and drinking. Sam wasn't among them. Inside, the music was loud and bass heavy, and the air rich with the warm heat of humans. It took me a few minutes to find Sam, as he'd positioned himself in a rear corner and was half-hidden by the shadows.

He rose as I approached, his gaze scanning me and suddenly sharpening. Just for a moment, his concern washed through me, thick and sharp, and it not only warmed me deep inside, but provided yet another hint that the man I'd once loved was still in there somewhere. Which only made the steely front all that much harder to take. “What's wrong?”

“I'm being followed,” I said. “A vampire, by the feel of him—”

He made a disgusted sound and sat back down. “He was supposed to keep out of your damn sight.”

I stared at him for a moment; then anger surged. “He's one of
your
people?”

“Yeah.”

He motioned me to sit. I ignored him. That odd sense of darkness flared again, sending a shimmer that was part desire, part fear, down my spine.

“Why the hell are your people following
me
? I've been doing all that I can to help you, and this is the thanks I get?”

“Emberly, sit down and
calm
down.” His voice held the whip of command. “It's not what it seems.”

I snorted in disbelief and shoved the computer at him. “You might want to have your people look at this. It's Mark's laptop, the one we used in the lab to transcribe his notes. We erase the drive regularly, but I'm guessing you'll have someone who can recover data.”

“We do.” He frowned. “But we searched both the lab and his house thoroughly—where the hell did you find it?”

“He had a special compartment built into the desk.” I stripped off my sodden jacket. The shirt underneath was soaked in thick patches that clung to me like a second skin. It was also white and, where it was wet, more than a little see-through—something I couldn't do much about. But it wasn't like he hadn't seen me exposed before. Wasn't like he was even interested.

“So, explain why the hell you're having me followed.” I dragged out the chair opposite him and sat down. “Because it certainly smacks of you not trusting me.”

“Actually, we don't trust anyone, but in this
particular case, we just don't want you dead. Would you like a coffee? You look cold.”

I
was
cold, but I'd be damned if I'd let him do
anything
for me—not even something as simple as getting me a drink. I crossed my arms and said, “All I need is for you to explain that comment.”

He grunted. “Think about it; Baltimore is dead, his home and office ransacked, and you're the only link we have to both Baltimore and the false security guard. And if they haven't found what they're after, it's logical to think they'll come after you next.”

“But I don't know—”

“
They
don't know that,” he cut in brusquely. “Adam will continue to follow you at night, and someone else will shadow you during the day. At least until we know for sure they're not going to snatch you.”

I glared at him, though my anger had slithered away faster than rain down a drain. I could hardly argue about what he was doing when it was being done to keep me safe. “You could have at least warned me. I damn near had a heart attack.”

He grimaced. “You weren't supposed to know he was there. Most people can't sense vampires when they shadow.”

“Well,
I'm
not most people.”

“No,” he said, voice dark. “You're not.”

And
he
would never forget it. God, I needed a coffee. No, what I
really
needed was alcohol. A bucket of it, preferably. But I couldn't be bothered
getting up to order anything and I wasn't about to ask him.

So I simply said, “I don't think anything was missing from either the lab or his office, but when I went to his apartment, I booted up the laptop and discovered his stash had been erased.”

“His stash?”

I nodded. “Mark backed up all his research in an online cloud service as an additional security measure. Only he and I knew the codes, so that's one of the things they must have beaten out of him.”

“What time did they access it?”

“Three forty-five this morning.”

“Well after he'd been murdered and everything ransacked.”

I nodded again. “Which doesn't make sense. Why do it
after
they'd ransacked? Why not do it before?”

He half shrugged. “Maybe they accessed it only after they hadn't found whatever it was they were looking for elsewhere.”

“But all his notes were stored there. All of them—” I stopped suddenly. All except the ones I had, that was.

“What?”

I cleared my throat. “Mark asked me to type up some notes the night he died. I've still got them.”

“Fuck. You should have mentioned—”

“I forgot,” I snapped. “It's not like I did it deliberately.” Not like I wanted his grumpy, forbidding ass in my life any longer than necessary.

And if I kept telling myself that often enough, I might eventually believe it.

Sam grunted. His expression wasn't giving much away, but the darkness in him was stronger, its caress making me shiver and yearn. It almost felt like the aura a vampire used when they wanted to make their blood taking as pleasurable as possible. Not all of them did, of course. Some, like the one who'd killed me, rather enjoyed the taste of fear and panic. But at least the bastard had suffered, because I'd managed to burn a good part of his body before I'd died. Vampires couldn't regenerate ruined flesh any more than a phoenix could—although at least our rebirth
did
give us a fresh, scar-free start.

“Are they still at home?” he asked.

I nodded. “I usually transfer the files across to the institute once I finish transcribing, but I forgot to do that with everything that happened.”

“Probably just as well, given they've managed to steal everything else.”

“Meaning they
did
get into the institute's system?”

“Yes. Although they only erased Baltimore's notes.”

I rubbed my arms, trying to get some warmth into them. Saw his eyes flicker briefly downward and felt my nipples harden.

And wished like hell there was some way to make myself as immune to this man as he was to me.

He leaned back in his chair, his face a mask. “Then we'd better go get them.”

“Fuck it,
no
.” The words were out of my mouth before I'd even thought about them. “I've just spent the last thirteen hours crawling around floors, stacking papers, and going through books. I've done more than enough for one day. Besides, I have a goddamn date.”

He raised an eyebrow, his expression almost mocking. “With the Fae you ran into at the apartment building?”

Anger flared again, and the heat of it touched my cheeks. “What if it is?”

“Given what has been going on in that building, it might be better if you'd wait until he's fully checked out.”

I snorted softly. “You lost the right to tell me who I could and couldn't see a long time ago.”

“I never
had
that fucking right.” His low voice was so cold it felt like I'd been slapped by ice. “Even when we
were
together.”

“And
you
never gave me a chance to explain why!”

“Cheating is cheating, Red,” he bit back. “End of story.”

It wasn't, but it would never matter. It was over between us, and nothing could ever repair the damage, no matter how desperate my foolish heart might be to believe otherwise.

He took a deep breath, and the darkness and anger in him retreated. “Fine. I'll have someone drop by tomorrow morning to collect them.”

“Fine,” I retorted. “If you need anything else, you know where to find me.”

“If we need anything else, someone else can fucking find you.” And with that, he rose and walked out.

I released a slow breath, but it didn't do a whole lot to ease the anger and tension that ran through me. What I needed was time in the arms of someone who cared, but Rory was no doubt in Rosie's tender embrace by now. A hot and sexy Fae—even if he was a total stranger—would have to do instead.

I plucked his business card out of my pocket and gave him a call.

“Jackson Miller.” His voice was deep and warm, and I closed my eyes in pleasure as he added, “How may I help you?”

“I believe you promised me a drink,” I said. “And I'm finding myself in need of one right now.”

“Emberly! I wasn't sure if you'd call tonight. I thought I might have scared you off with my straightforwardness.”

I laughed softly. “Trust me, a straightforward man will never scare me away. Are you busy?”

“I'm never too busy to have a drink with a pretty lady.” He paused. “Where are you?”

“Magenta's. It's just—”

“I know exactly where it is,” he cut in cheerfully. “I'll be there in five.”

Meaning he was close. Good. I needed to steal some of his warmth. A chill seemed to have settled into my bones, and I couldn't risk flaming in a bar that was packed with humans.

Jackson was as good as his word and appeared
five minutes later, a big, lean man who radiated sexuality and heat. His grin, when his gaze met mine, was easy and delighted, creasing the corners of his green eyes.

“Emberly,” he said, and leaned down to drop a kiss on my cheek. Though it was little more than a light brush of lips, the memory of it seemed to linger on my skin, all tingly and warm. “You have no idea how pleased I am to hear from you so soon.”

I smiled. “I wasn't sure what you drank, so I haven't ordered anything yet.”

“Good, because a lady should never buy a man a drink. Not until the second or third date, anyway.”

“I think most ladies would disagree with that,” I said dryly, “given it often leads to unwarranted expectations.”

“Oh, I have
plenty
of expectations.” Mischief sparkled in his eyes. “But as I've already told you, they'll come with our second date. What would you like to drink?”

“Just a chardonnay, thanks.”

He nodded and went to get our drinks. On returning, he sat in Sam's recently vacated chair, filling the space with warmth and sunshine rather than moody darkness.

“So,” he said, crossing his arms on the table and studying me with an intensity that was different from and yet no less unsettling than Sam's. “Tell me about yourself.”

I gave him a vague outline of what I did for a living, then said, “You?”

He half shrugged. “I own an engineering company. We design and develop new industrial machinery to clients' specifications.”

“Sounds more exciting than my job.”

“It's not. You been in Melbourne long?”

My turn to shrug. “For about nine years now. You?”

“Most of my work is here nowadays, but I do the occasional job in Sydney.”

I took a sip of my wine, then said, “So why is a fire Fae working in a city as big as Melbourne?”

He raised his eyebrows. “Why is a phoenix?”

“Change of scenery.”

“Same. Of course, it certainly doesn't hurt that there's a female Fae here only a few years away from becoming fertile.” That slow, sexy smile appeared again. “And there's certainly more non-Fae possibilities to explore more sensual pastimes with here in the big smoke.”

Once again, his expression left me in no doubt that he was hoping to explore some of those sensual pastimes with
me
. Excitement shivered through me. The Fae were, according to Rory, fantastic lovers. He'd been lucky enough to spend some time with one several rebirths ago, but I'd never met one before now.

“So this female—her name wouldn't happen to be Rochelle, would it?”

He shrugged. “I've only caught her scent a few times, and we're not likely to meet until she's ready to reproduce. We Fae are an antisocial lot.”

With one another, not with other races,
obviously. “So has your pursuit of sin here in the big smoke been a successful endeavor thus far?”

“Yes, though it is never a sin to either enjoy or give enjoyment through sensation and sex.” Amusement crinkled the corners of his bright eyes. “Though I do have to say, virgins are a bit thin on the ground these days. Unless, of course, you catch them young, and
that
goes against the moral grain.”