Born of Fire (34 page)

Syn continued his warnings. “You also have to remember that if the authorities have the right equipment, the fuel inside your blaster will be picked up on their scanners.”

Now there was something she’d never heard of before. Dang, technology changed faster than she could keep up with it. “How is that possible?”

“Most blaster charges are coated with
trissem
to allow individual makers and suppliers to identify their merchandise. About a year ago, the authorities came out with a scanner that can pick up the
trissem
and expose a concealed weapon.”

“But how will putting it in the pack—”

“The pack is lined with
deluva
. To date, there’s no scanner that can infiltrate it. So long as we have them, we’re relatively safe.”

What did he do? Stay up every night researching all this? She unstrapped her blaster and did as he’d ordered. “You’re good at this.”

“Yeah, well, on the street a filch’s life expectancy is only twenty-two and I’m doing my best to double that.”

She flinched at his words. “You can’t be serious? Even League assassins have longer life expectancies.”

He turned to face her, his features completely stoic. “Assassins have a home quarter with allies. A filch has no one to trust. You’re just as likely to get it from a client as you are from an enforcer. Or a competitor. Believe me, I carry multiple scars from all three.”

Shahara drew her leg up into her chair and thought about his words. She’d never before considered how much danger such a life would hold. It was terrifying. At least as a tracer, she only had to worry about her targets getting her. While she did compete with others for missions, tracers didn’t kill each other over them.

“Yet you trusted Digger, Nykyrian, Darling and the Mothers.”

“I also trusted Caillen.”

A lump burned her throat. Did Syn hate her for her brother’s words?

“I’m really sorry, Syn.”

He didn’t say anything as he turned back to the controls.

For several minutes, Shahara sat in her chair, watching him run data through the computer. The light of the console flickered across the handsome planes of his face. Desperately, she wanted to take him in her arms and hold him tight, but he held himself so rigidly that she was afraid to even try.

A light began to blink. Syn sat back and looked at it, then thumped it with his fingertip.

It stopped.

“What was that?” she asked, suddenly anxious.

“A malfunctioning light.”

“Oh.”

They both fell silent while Shahara wondered about his thoughts. Would he ever forgive Caillen for what he’d said?

Could she?

Her brother’s words had been harsh and if she were lucky enough to have a friend like Syn, she’d never betray him.

At that thought, her stomach flipped and she considered the irony of life. What Caillen had said to him was not nearly as bad as what she was
doing
to him.

What am I going to do?

Syn watched her from the corner of his eye while he continued to test various scenarios with the computer strategist. She sat in her chair with one leg drawn up beside her as she absently twisted a finger in her mahogany hair.

He sighed. This was not the way he’d wanted his morning to turn out. He’d wanted to spend hours holding her, exploring her body, and instead he was headed straight into suicide with a hangover and a fury that was so raw in his throat he could taste the acid.

Damn you, Caillen
.

But then, what did it really matter? He’d known better than to ever hope for anything. How many times would he try for something and watch as all his hard work crumbled around him?

Well, this time, he’d learned his lesson. Shahara was only experiencing halo syndrome. It was common enough. Hell, he’d taught a number of classes to interns about it back when he’d been a doctor. He’d saved her life and taken care of her so she naturally looked at him as a guardian angel and had deluded herself with infatuation. But once all this was over, she’d gradually come to her senses and see him for what he really was.

A no-account thief.

And she was a tracer, a seax, no less.

There had never been two more incompatible people born. To even hope for one more moment in her arms was complete madness.

No, he had to keep his distance. For her sake as much as his own.

He closed his eyes and tried to banish the ache that seized him over the thought of letting her go.
She doesn’t belong to you. You were meant to be alone. Why do you fight it?

Because all he really wanted in life was for one person to say “I love you” and have them mean it. Just one human being to stay with him no matter what.

How he damned such thoughts. They’d tortured him all the nights of his life.

No more. He was done with it all.

To hell with love and to hell with people. He didn’t need either one.

As soon as he could, he’d dump her and that would be that. And if his heart and soul didn’t like it, then they could both go to hell and roast. He’d had plenty of disappointments over the years and, at this point in his life, he was used to its bitter taste.

He was definitely done with her.

Shahara came awake as someone touched her gently on her arm. Instinctively, she drew her blaster and aimed at his head.

Syn caught the barrel and disarmed her before she could shoot him . . . again. “Are you all right?”

She started to fight back until she realized who it was. She calmed instantly, grateful she hadn’t inadvertently hurt him. “Sorry about that.”

He shook it off without offense. “It’s okay. I do the same thing myself.” He returned the blaster to her.

Sliding it back into her holster, she yawned. “Where are we?”

“Broma. I landed almost twenty minutes ago.” He picked her pack up off the floor in front of her feet and handed it to her.

“Why didn’t you wake me sooner?”

“You looked like you needed the sleep, but we’ve only got about three hours of darkness left. So we need to get out of here soon.”

Shahara rubbed her eyes and yawned again. “Okay, Captain. After you.”

He arched a brow. “What? No convict insult?”

She stood up and placed her hand against his cheek.
Even though his tone was steady and even, she had the distinct impression that he only brought it up because her use of the word offended him. “I see you, Syn. I know what you are.”

Syn didn’t respond as his body erupted at the sensation of her gentle touch.

Don’t be an idiot. Mara touched you with a loving hand once upon a time, too.

And it had been a lie. First time he did something Shahara didn’t like, she’d turn on him just like Kiara had done after they’d risked their lives to save hers. In one second of confession, he’d been reduced down to the filth of his past.

Just like Mara and Paden.

Just like Caillen.

The truth of his past had never set him free. It only enslaved him more.

And he was tired of it.

Stepping back from her, he pulled on a pair of black gloves, then handed her a matching set.

Shahara wanted to curse as she saw the veil come down over his face. He’d retreated back into himself and she had no idea why. Disappointed, she accepted the gloves, noting the little bubbles of hard-formed plastic that lined the palm and fingers. Tracing some with her finger, she looked up with a puzzled frown.

“We’re going to rappel down the side of my building. Those should keep you from slipping.”

Her body went cold. “Rappel?”

“Just don’t look down.”

Her stomach shrank at the thought. “You are one seriously sadistic bastard, aren’t you?”

“It comes with being a Wade.” His tone was so low she wasn’t sure she heard it.

Never in her life had she wanted to reach out to someone more than she did him right now.

You are not your past, Syn.

But her words wouldn’t reach him and she knew it. He was the kind of man who only believed in actions. Not lip service.

And she was going to have to betray him.

Pushing the thought aside, she followed him out of the shuttle.

In just a few minutes, they were headed down a dark, quiet street. The moon had taken refuge behind a group of clouds, and the outside landscape showed up only in spots where streetlights made tiny puddles of butter-colored light to help guide them. Vik soared up to scout the area in front and behind them, looking for anyone who might threaten them.

Wind whistled through the alleyways between the buildings with an eerie cry. Goosebumps sprang up all over her and she wished she’d thought to bring a jacket. Clenching her teeth to keep them from chattering, she stayed one step behind Syn.

“What time is it here?” she asked, her voice seeming overloud after the quiet.

“About three in the morning.”

“It’s rather creepy out, isn’t it?”

Syn paused for a minute and looked around the deserted city streets before he shrugged. “Not really. I always preferred this time of night. It’s peaceful. Even the worst predators are usually asleep or home by this hour.” He gave her a strange look. “Except for filches. We do our best work after dark.”

He headed into an alley. She watched as he climbed to the top of a Dumpster, then he held his hand out to her. Accepting it, she allowed him to pull her up to
stand beside him so that they could balance on the edge of its lip, above the garbage.

An instant later, he pulled a grappling hook out of the small black plastic pack he must have strapped to his arm while she’d slept. He shot the hook upward toward the building’s roof, where the prongs exploded and it vanished over the edge. After it landed, Syn tugged on the rope, testing the line. Her mouth went dry at the sight of his steely, catlike muscles beneath the tight bodysuit.

And before she could blink, an image of his naked body flashed before her eyes, sending a most inappropriate wave of desire crashing through her.

Syn wrapped the cord around his torso and looked at her. “C’mon,” he said, pulling out the thick strap he’d used to tie them together the last time they’d scaled a building. “I’ll help you up. But you’re on your own once we reach the destination.”

“No problem.” She noted the seriousness of his tone. He wasn’t the same man who’d teased her before. He hadn’t been the same since his confrontation with Caillen, and she wondered how long it would be before he returned to the Syn she’d grown to care for.

Saddened by the thought, she stepped into his arms. His embrace was cold, mechanical.

Syn’s breath caught as the heat of her body warmed his. Standing here, it was hard to let his rationale reign, especially since all the blood in his head was rushing south.

I should have never slept with her
. All that had done was whet his appetite for more and make him crave things he couldn’t have.

Dreams were lies manifested by worthless desires. And the last time he’d made the mistake of giving
himself over to a woman, she’d stabbed him straight through his heart. Twisted the knife and left him bleeding.

If only those wounds were fatal.

Get the map, the disc, and get her out of your life
. Then he could go back to . . .

Hell.

But at least he knew the rules there, and people’s misconceptions of him didn’t hurt.

“Hold tight.”

She complied and they raced toward the top.

Once on the roof, he freed her. “We’ll have to vault three buildings over before we hit the right roof.”

“Do you think the Rits will be expecting us?”

He retracted the grappling hook back into its case. “I don’t know. I couldn’t get a decent sat link to check. But the good news is they can’t get one on us either.” He tapped the link in his ear. “Vik? Report.”

“I don’t see anything, boss. It looks clear, but I’m not betting on those odds.”

“Keep looking and let me know when you make them.” Syn took out his baton and faced Shahara. “If we’re lucky, which I seldom seem to be, they’ll have given up and be gone by now. But if my typical luck holds, they’ll have at least two people staking out my building. I doubt they’ll be this far back, though, and I seriously doubt they’re looking up for our approach, which is why we’re here.” He paused, then added, “I guess we’ll find out soon enough.”

Shahara rolled her eyes. “Great.” She just loved his optimism. It was one of her favorite things about him.

Pulling out her baton and extending it, she watched him run, then vault over the edge. He soared across the wide space like a graceful bird taking flight—like all
this was second nature to him. The saddest part of all was the fact that it
was
second nature to him.

Her element was fighting. His was being one with the darkness around them . . .

“Go ahead,” she groused at herself. “Make it look easy. But if I fall, I swear I’ll haunt you forever.”

Which would only be fair since he was already haunting her.

With her heart lodged painfully in her throat, she took off at a run and vaulted over to the next building. Her heart didn’t beat again until she landed safely on the other side.

He shook his head at her panicked expression. “What did you say you did for a living? Play video games?”

Shahara took a deep breath and thought about where she’d like to plant her extended baton on his body. “I prefer to face my enemies on the street. In the open.” Stealth was also her friend at times, but she was only stealthy until she reached her target.

Then it was full-on.

“And I prefer to live.” With that, he vaulted to the next rooftop.

Not soon enough to soothe her frayed nerves, they landed on his roof.

Syn walked over to the opposite edge of the building and leaned over its ledge. With an indifference to danger she greatly envied, he stared down at the street for several minutes before looking back to where she was keeping a respectful distance. He motioned her forward.

Her heart still lodged in her throat, she obeyed even though she hated the thought of looking down.

“I see two tracers,” he said once she joined him. “What about you?”