Fire and Flame (10 page)

Sara pressed her fingers to her temples. She needed to concentrate on the issue at hand.

It would serve Brent right if she called up one of her old beaus. The first few faces that popped into her head belonged to Fire witches. Though that would be a wicked dagger by which to jab Brent, she couldn’t ask it of any of her own race.

Brent was now master of them all. And until Sara had completed her duty, she was akin to a virgin lady within a feudal lord’s house. She was his to use for political gain.

But Brent had no control over vanilla humans.

****

Brent settled his back deep within the tall chair before Fintan’s fireplace, stretching his legs negligently before him on the braided carpet. His arms dropped slack across the chair in a pose meant to look completely at ease. But he didn’t feel the part.

Sara’s voice echoed through the stairwell as her dainty feet brought her closer to him.

She was laughing.

She wasn’t supposed to be laughing. She was supposed to be snarling and fighting to control her aggression.

Why was she laughing?

Her footsteps padded through the dining room into the kitchen. Soft clinking meant she’d opened the refrigerator door. And then she let out another chuckle.

“I don’t remember that,” she said to whoever held her attention. “Oh!” The quick exclamation was the kind that accompanied the cherry blush probably stealing across her pretty cheeks. “Now I recall it. I did almost fall,” she admitted in a sheepish voice. “But you caught me before I could. You’re such a gentleman.”

Brent clenched his fists. Here he was, awaiting her so they could begin training, but she was too busy flirting with someone else to bother. Who was she talking to?

After her trip out last night and the call now, the urge to send out an order to the males of the coven for Sara to be left alone was nearly impossible to avoid. He didn’t want her seeking solace from anyone but him. Selfish? Yes. He didn’t care. Brent wouldn’t do it for the simple fact it would make him appear weak.

“I love reminiscing with you,” Sara continued in her spot within the kitchen.

Her voice was clearer now as if she’d gotten her item out of the refrigerator and now stood at the island facing the office.

“You always know how to make me laugh,” she added with a soft chuckle.

The words slashed across Brent’s chest as if she’d whipped him. He had never made her laugh. Humor wasn’t his way. The only times Fintan had ever laughed with him had been when Brent had accidentally done something the high priest found amusing or when he’d made a sarcastic comment.

Sara liked to laugh.

Maybe he’d been wrong. Maybe he would make her miserable after all.

****

Sara sipped on her drink at the kitchen island in between listening to Freddy’s tale of his winter trip to Machu Picchu. What would it be like to travel to another country? As a Fire witch, she’d need more than a passport and some immunization shots to guard against illnesses she couldn’t get. She’d have to get permission from the local covens. The children of Phoenix were a paranoid bunch no matter which human culture influenced them.

“So who are you dating now, Sassy Sara?” Freddy said teasingly over her sleek mobile phone. “Some trust fund fraternity guy who will one day be President of the United States?”

She couldn’t stop her hoot of laughter because he was on the mark. “I was dating one of those. But then…” Her daddy had died and taken her every security with him. “I had to come home.” She hurried a half-formed explanation. “He was graduating and we had different plans for the future.”

“Now you’re back in Indy, calling up your old pal Freddy James.”

Sara could almost see the smirk on Freddy’s olive hued skin. His dark hair would be wavy and perpetually falling in his eyes because he simply wouldn’t be Freddy without the signature hair. Would she still find the way he tossed it away from his face sexy?

She pushed back from the kitchen island, moving away from the office where prying ears most certainly stretched keenly toward her. “It’s been a rough few days,” she admitted in a volume meant to conceal her words. “I hoped I could count on you to make me laugh a little.”

“Sure. I can do laughs. How about bowling after work at Woodland?”

At her usual volume, she replied, “Bowling after work sounds great. Whoever gets the first strike picks dinner and the other pays. See you in a bit.”

Though Sara did need to laugh, she couldn’t deny the true motivation behind her call. She’d wanted to make Brent jealous—as jealous as she’d been when she’d found Vanessa in the kitchen using
her
pans to make him dinner. But the phone call had served another function she’d needed. Now she was calm enough to face Brent.

She palmed the phone then started for her daddy’s office. After her usual double knock against the oak, she opened the door, and then stepped inside. Her attention went first to the brown leather manager’s chair behind the desk where Fintan would have been any other Monday morning.

Sorrow welled up within her chest with no place to go. She stumbled forward while inhaling a ragged breath. The creak of leather off to the left hinted Brent had hopped to his feet. Sara tried to regain her footing and her composure.

“I’m fine,” she lied even as she hurried to the chair in front of the desk for the handhold it would provide.

Once there, she faced Brent. The uncertain wave of his lips gave him the illusion of compassion.

Sara explained her appearance so she could leave. “I just came to tell you that I would like to train, but not today. In a day or two perhaps, when it is good for you.” After a beat, she added, “If you could teach me what you can, I’ll arrange for the Hudson coven to finish the rest.”

Brent’s eyes sparked with anger. “You don’t need your father’s inheritance?”

Sara stiffened. She’d hoped to avoid this conversation until she’d had time to think over her options. Brent clearly didn’t want to give her the time.

“I would like it,” she admitted at a cautious pace. “But I’m not sure it’s worth the hassle.”

“Doing your duty is a hassle?”

With him? Yes. Most definitely.

She couldn’t tell him the truth. “Doing my duty now—when I’m newly finished with school and looking for an opportunity to further my career—is a hassle.”

Brent stepped backwards to his former seat. He knew the room well enough to do it without looking. It meant his gaze remained on her as he moved. With a careless gesture, he dropped down, tossing his blue jean covered legs before him. His gray T-shirt bunched when he folded his arms over his compact chest.

“Were you aware of the state of Fintan’s finances?”

That quietly voiced question wasn’t nearly as innocuous as it seemed.

She’d never wanted for anything. Whatever she’d needed, her daddy had provided without question. And when she’d asked to go to a pricey liberal arts college that could only offer a scholarship for a portion of the tuition, Fintan hadn’t batted an eyelash.

She shook her head. “I never asked him about money.”

“Your father was worth nearly five hundred million dollars.”

The four words strung together sounded ridiculous. She nearly laughed but held it together long enough to do the math. If he were correct, then doing her duty within the next two months would merit her a whopping three hundred million dollars and then some!

Was that kind of money worth the hassle of having a child before starting a career?

Sara fell into the nearby seat while considering the implications of what she’d learned. She wouldn’t need a career if she had three hundred million dollars at her disposal. The interest alone ought to be enough to live off.

She stared at the empty seat half expecting her daddy to burst in and greet her.
There’s my princess
, he’d say. She exhaled a quick breath to keep the tears at bay.

“Are a few hundred million dollars worth the hassle of doing your duty?”

Brent’s steady question wasn’t welcome. Not now when she was in danger of crying again. But then maybe that was why he’d done it. The only thing she seemed to be able to think of now was how angry she was he’d let Vanessa into the house. Her house.

There was really no way around doing her duty now. As a pure witch, she had to conceive a pureblooded child sometime before she died. And if doing so in the next two months ensured her inheritance as well as the future of her child, then it was worth the hassle.

The only problem now was who Fintan had picked.

When she didn’t immediately answer, Brent pressed with, “It was Fintan’s final wish.”

“I know,” Sara practically shouted. In a softer voice she added, “I was there. I heard it too.”

“I would have picked someone else,” he said as if she’d accused him of altering the will.

Why would he have chosen someone else for her?

She’d have asked if she hadn’t worried the answer would be insulting. Completing her duty with him would be difficult enough without his disparagements on her mind.

Though Brent was halfway across the room, she couldn’t help but recall what had happened here days earlier. He’d kissed her. Brent had made her feel as flustered as a virgin and then he’d pulled away with no explanation. Was that part of why she had a difficult time accepting the inevitable?

Her cheeks flushed with warmth. Leaving before he noticed the reaction would be a good idea. She got to her feet so she could make a quick escape.

“I’m not fertile for another two weeks,” she said on her way. “Until then there’s no sense worrying about Daddy’s last wish.”

“Sara.”

It wasn’t safe to turn back until her hand closed around the doorknob. She twirled, pressing her back securely against the oak before she allowed herself to look at him. Her eyebrows drifted up. No doubt he’d comment about her needing protection if she planned to go out.

However what Brent said instead was, “If we complete Fintan’s final wish, you won’t be going to the Hudson coven.”

“Um…what?”

Surely he’d have a good reason. Perhaps someone in the Hudson coven disliked him and would give her child a difficult time. She could pay them to relocate if that were the case.

“My child will not be leaving my coven,” Brent announced in his loftiest of voices. It was the one he’d used countless times when he’d wanted to establish his dominance over lesser creatures, generally vanilla humans.

She wasn’t a lesser creature. And what he asked for wasn’t normal.

“It will be
my
child. As the mother, I have all of the rights.”

“As the mother, the rights are assumed to be yours because most male Fire witches have no interest in their children.” Brent hunched forward in the seat. His forearms dropped against his knees. “I am not most males. I have an interest.”

“
An interest,” she repeated in a shrill pitch. “Your slight interest is enough to keep me confined in the Ohio River Valley?”

“No.”

The simple yet emphatic reply didn’t bode well. Something in the way his gaze darkened and he looked up at her from beneath the fringe of his coal black lashes worried her.

“My considerable interest in my child will keep my child confined in this house.”

Sara couldn’t stop her gasp. His statement had made the situation exceedingly difficult. What should have been a quick interlude in bed while she was fertile now required she give up her child to her father’s guard dog.

Then again, there was always the option of renouncing her daddy’s riches, ignoring his final wish, and then further shaming the McKenna name by refusing to do her witchly obligation.

If Fintan weren’t already ash, he’d surely be rolling in his grave.

****

What had Brent been thinking when he’d made his various proclamations? True, he’d said what had needed to be said. But he certainly hadn’t needed to state it as abruptly as all that.

Sara needed to be handled delicately. Yet he couldn’t seem to do anything but what he always did when she challenged him. He’d declared and snapped with little more than bluster.

Brent dropped his head against the chair with a heavy sigh. Part of him wanted to chase her down—to pin her against her frilly bed upstairs and show her what he wanted from her had nothing to do with Fintan’s last wish. But she needed time to digest what he’d told her.

Still, a little voice whispered that she held his future in her hands. She could ruin everything for them both by being rash. With only two months to complete Fintan’s request, Sara could easily conceive with someone else. Brent had no illusions about what his reaction would be to that.

He could tell himself it was the money he wanted. It would be a lie. He had money enough to live.

Brent wanted something to tie Sara to him irrevocably, something none of her many admirers would ever be able to come between. A child would do that.

Perhaps it was time to swallow his pride and seduce her.

Chapter Thirteen

The day wasn’t relaxing. Sara was unable to think about anything but what Brent had said in the office. She considered leaving. But she’d already avoided her home plenty. Tonight’s bowling trip would be soon enough for her to go out.

Sara flounced onto her bed with a thick sigh. After many years of fighting for friends, for admiration, for a place at the head of the class, she’d hoped just once she wouldn’t have to work as hard to get what she wanted. Four years of intense studying in her communications program and an extra two semesters for leadership experience had been plenty of effort. It would have been if events hadn’t conspired against her.

Now she’d never get to New York.

The situation wouldn’t be as bad if anyone but Brent were involved. He was determined to make her unhappy. Why had her daddy had to pick the one witch in the entire region who disliked her most?

Sara kicked her legs in the air impatiently as she lay on her belly. She stared at the poster on the wall of a princess handing a favor to a knight. How ironic it was that an era she’d admired in her childhood would come back to haunt her. Here she was being handed off like chattel to the new lord.