Fireborn (29 page)

“Worried. I know. But it'll all work out. I'm sure of it.”

I hoped he was right.

Hoped like hell that things didn't go down as badly as I suspected they would tonight.

I
drove past the locked gates that led into Hanging Rock Reserve, then came to a halt in the shadows of several eucalypts farther down the road and climbed out. Dusk was just beginning to weave red and gold fingers across the cloud-held sky, and the air had a charged, electric feel to it.

Or maybe that was just
me
.

Fire burned through my limbs, a force so eager to be used that sparks danced lightly across my fingertips every time I moved.

I clenched my hands and tried to control the fear that was leading to the fiery output. I might have serious doubts as to whether the sindicati would uphold their promises and let us go free, but I couldn't walk into this meeting so obviously ready for trouble.
Any
show of force, however small and bright, might just turn things down the wrong path.

I raised my gaze and scanned the sky. Rory was up there somewhere, but it didn't make me feel any safer. We might have set this meeting for a time convenient for us, but the cool-voiced vampire was one of the old ones, and dusk provided
little impediment. And they'd had several hours to prepare their net—if indeed it was a net I was stepping into, and not just old fears and prejudices raising their ugly heads.

I blew out a breath, wished the nerves could so easily be released, then leaned back into the car and plucked the laptop—now safely secured in a backpack—off the backseat. After locking the car and shoving the keys under the rear wheel arch to ensure I didn't lose them in whatever mayhem might happen over the next half hour, I walked through the scrub that divided the road from the fence and climbed into the reserve.

It took about ten minutes to walk to the main parking lot, and sunset had taken full hold by the time I arrived. The power of it sang through me, a fierce, warm energy that—in any other situation—would have had me dancing.

I paused on the edge of the tarmac. There were several cars present, but no sign of the occupants. Given the reserve was closed for the evening, they had to belong either to the rangers or to the sindicati themselves. But if it was the latter, where the hell were they?

My gaze jumped to the ancient rock formation that loomed above the parking lot, but I couldn't see anyone there, either. Not that I would. I mean, we were talking about vampires, and those bastards were well able to conceal themselves in shadows. And even with dusk in its full glory there was still plenty of
those
lurking about.

I resolutely took four steps forward—and
suddenly felt horribly exposed. Keeping my fingers clenched, I said, without raising my voice, “I know you're here. Reveal yourselves.”

For several minutes there was no response. Sweat began to trickle down my spine, and my heart felt ready to tear itself out of my chest. Which, no doubt, was precisely what they wanted.

Then, directly opposite me, a long stick of a man shook free of the shadows lurking under the trees and stepped into the sunset-bathed parking space. He had dusty blond hair, a thick, handlebar mustache, and was dressed rather like an old-style cowboy—complete with boots and hat. The telling thing, however, was that he didn't even flinch when the waning sunlight hit him. He was one of the old ones, and possibly
had
been a cowboy before he'd turned.

He was not, however, the man I'd been speaking to over the phone—the one who'd tasted me when I'd been held captive in that place of darkness. Why I was so certain I couldn't really say, other than the fact that the same sense of menace wasn't emanating from him.

Although that didn't make him any less dangerous.

“You have the laptop?” His voice held the slightest hint of a drawl and none of the cool remoteness of the other vampire.

“I do, but I'm not about to risk handing it over to any old lackey. If the man I made the deal with isn't here, then I walk away.”

“Such an action would only result in the Fae's death.”

“Kill the Fae, and you kill any chance of getting the notes.” A flicker of gold caught my eye. I glanced up, saw a trail of fiery red-gold plunge from the streaked skies. Tension wound through me, and it was all I could do to remain where I was, to not step back to the shelter of the trees, where I was less of a target for a marksman. But I couldn't help adding, “Kill me, and you won't get the laptop's password.”

His eyebrow raised almost imperceptibly. “That is hardly a consideration when we have more than enough resources to break whatever password you may have placed on the computer.”

“Perhaps.” My gaze swept the parking lot's boundaries, sensing movement but not seeing it. “But if you shoot me, you risk damaging the computer itself in my fall. Isn't it far easier for everyone involved if the man I made the deal with just stepped forward?”

“Why does it matter who you deal with?” the cowboy countered.

I smiled, but it was thin and forced. “Because my deal was made with him, not you. He gave me his word on our safety. You did not.”

“A small but important distinction, I agree,” a cool voice said to my left.

I jumped and half swung around as a shadow appeared out of the trees only yards from where I stood. God, I hadn't even sensed him—how many
damn others were nearby? More than even imagination could conjure, I'd wager.

I swallowed to ease the sudden dryness in my throat and watched him walk—although to be honest, gliding seemed a more apt description of his method of movement—into the middle of the parking lot, where he turned to face me. He had what could be described only as classic male features—a wide, angular jaw, a square chin, a prominent brow, and a strong—almost Roman—nose. Both his eyes and his hair were a steely gray, and he was rangier in build than his whip-thin compatriot.

“Now, the laptop. I wish to see it.”

“And I have the same desire to see Jackson Miller. You present your offering; then I'll present mine.”

He sighed. “And still you don't trust me. This aggrieves me greatly, I assure you.”

“I'm sure you'll survive my mistrust,” I said. “After all, you are a rather high-ranking member of the sindicati. I would think mistrust comes with the territory.”

“That, unfortunately, is very true.” He paused, and a slight smile touched his lips. A chill ran across my skin, and I clenched my fists so hard against the surge of fire that my nails dug into my palms. “But also somewhat earned.”

He raised a hand and made a quick “come here” motion with two fingers. Out of the shadows behind him, two more vampires appeared, Jackson gripped between them as they dragged him forward. His clothes were torn and his body beaten
and bloody; he looked every inch as bad as he'd sounded on the phone. But his gaze, when it met mine, was filled with pain, fury, and fire.

It was the fire that caught my attention. It burned deep in those green depths, and it suggested he was more than ready to wield flames should the slightest spark arise.

Had the drug worn off?

God, I hoped so. Even if he wasn't at full strength physically, we had more of a chance of surviving this encounter if he at least had
some
fire capability. I returned my attention to the cool-voiced vampire.

“Your turn,” he said evenly.

I swung the backpack around and pulled out the laptop.

“Start it up. I want to check that the file has not been touched.” His sudden smile held a mocking edge. “I'm afraid the lack of trust goes both ways.”

“You're welcome to check, but the laptop doesn't leave my hands while it happens.” My gaze skated across the shadows haunting the tree-lined parking lot. The sense of movement was increasing, as was the sense of danger. I rolled my shoulders, trying to ease the tension, with little success. “But no tricks. I'm a lady of fire, remember, and flesh burns just as easily as trees.”

“Oh, we forget
nothing
.” It was a warning more than a statement, and it had my gaze darting across those shadows again. I had a bad, bad feeling that the “we” he was talking about was
not
those I could see or sense, but those I couldn't.

Who was out there, watching the proceedings from the shadows? That silent stranger again? Or someone else? And did they intend to do anything more than just watch?

I hoped not.

The vampires already in the parking lot and those I could sense moving around were more than enough to contend with. I didn't need any more shit added to an already overloaded plate.

A vampire came out of the trees to my left and walked toward me. I booted up the laptop, typed in the password, then held it up as the vamp stopped in front of me. He was tall and thin, as most tended to be, with thick brown hair, an aristocratic nose, and a mouth that seemed locked in a permanent sneer. He smelled of garlic and earth—an odd combination that didn't do a whole lot for the tremulous state of my stomach.

His fingers flew over the keyboard, his touch so light I barely felt the movement. After a moment, he stepped back and glanced at his boss.

“The file has not been touched.”

“Excellent. Bring the laptop to me.”

“Not so fast.” I snatched the computer away from the grasp of the vamp. “An equal exchange, please. And you”—I added, glancing at garlic breath—“can go back to the shadows, if you don't mind.”

The vamp glanced at his boss, then retreated as requested. It didn't make me feel any safer. “Now release Jackson.”

The cool-voiced vampire waved those two
fingers again. The vamps holding Jackson released him and stepped back. Jackson slapped to the ground like so much bloodied meat and, for several seconds, didn't move. Then, with a hiss of air that spoke of extreme pain, he rolled onto his back.

“I'm afraid,” the cool-voiced vamp said casually, “that your friend has suffered a broken arm and leg. It is, unfortunately, a far easier way to manage captives than any regular means of restraint.”

I swore under my breath. I should have guessed the bastards would do something like
that
.

“Then you need to step back.” I shoved the laptop into the backpack and swung the pack onto my shoulder. “Once I have Jackson, you can have the pack.”

After that, I could only hope that they
would
uphold their end of the deal. But even if they didn't, we had more of a chance against them if we could at least make a stand together.

The cool-voiced vampire raised his hands and all three stepped back to the edge of the trees. Their easy compliance only ratcheted the tension and the fire singing through me.

I studied the nearby tree line for several seconds, wishing I had the ability to look beyond the shadows, wishing I could see who was watching, who was waiting. But that was an ability—like the dreams—not often found in phoenixes. And I briefly wondered, if I'd dreamed that
this
would be the end result of saving Sam, whether I'd have actually saved him.

Yes,
that insane bit of me whispered,
you would have.

I took a deep, somewhat shuddery breath; then, my grip tight on one of the backpack's straps, I walked toward Jackson.

His gaze met mine as I neared, and the fury was richer in his bright eyes. “Damn it, Em, you shouldn't be here.”

“If I were the sensible type, I wouldn't be.” I stopped beside him, swung the backpack off my shoulder, and carefully placed it on the asphalt. As I did so, I sent the flames that sparked across my fingertips onto the pack, where they shimmered and danced but didn't burn. Not yet, anyway.

“Destroy that backpack,” the cool-voiced vampire commented, “and you destroy any agreement we had.”

“The flames won't destroy the pack. Not unless you attack.” I squatted down, keeping my gaze on the vamp as I said to Jackson, “I'm going to need your help to get us out of here. You up for that?”

“You bet your sweet ass I am,” he muttered. And I knew he was referring more to fighting the vamps than any toll the mere act of moving would have on him. Fae were a damn tough lot. He added, “Haul me up on the left side. It ain't broken.”

To haul him up, I'd have to turn my back on the vampires—not something I was overly keen on
doing, but it wasn't like I had a whole lot of choice. “Tell me if one of them moves or disappears.”

“I will.”

I changed position, then gripped his raised hand. My gaze met his again and he nodded, briefly. With very little ceremony—but a whole lot of effort—I hauled him upright onto his good leg. He gritted his teeth and hissed, the sound long and pain filled. Sweat broke out across his brow and his skin suddenly looked ashen—not a great look on a fire Fae. I quickly shoved my shoulder under his and took most of his weight as he wobbled about. I slipped my other arm around his body. His heart was beating so hard it felt like someone was thumping my hand, and he was trembling violently. How he was even conscious, I had no idea.

“Now,” I said, just as much to the vampires as to Jackson, “we get out of here.”

“And the flames on the backpack?” the cool-voiced vampire inquired.

“Will retreat when we're safe, not before.”

“You have until the trees. Release it then, or we
will
attack.”

“And what happens after I release the pack? We're hardly safe in the trees.”

He raised an eyebrow, his expression mocking. “Would it matter if I promise that neither I nor any of those
I
brought to this meeting will attack?”

“It probably wouldn't, but I'd like to hear it, all the same.”

“Then I so promise.
We
will not attack you.”

The slight emphasis he placed on “we” had my gaze going to the trees again. The cool-voiced vampire and his cronies might not attack, but whoever was hiding in those shadows more than likely
would
.

Still, it was a risk we had no choice but to take.