From Burning Ashes (Collector Series #4) (32 page)

A fire that would never burn out.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

I opened my eyes, a noise stirring me from my
nap. The darkening sky shaded the room in heavy shadows. I sat up,
my feet tangling in the sheets. I glanced at the clock on the
nightstand and 5:20 flashed back at me. “Hell.”

“What?” Ryker’s sleepy voice asked. He rolled
onto his side, propping his head up with his hand.

“We should start getting ready for tonight.
Get something to eat.”

Ryker flopped back on his stomach, mumbling
something into the pillow.

Tap. Tap. Tap
.

I looked around the room. Where was that
sound comin—?

“Shit!” I didn’t even finish the thought
before I stood. I grabbed Ryker’s new shirt, which had been tossed
on the floor along with the comforter, and shoved it on, jogging to
the bathroom door.

I swung the door open, and beneath
guilt-laden eyebrows, I gazed at six inches of pissed-off monkey.
He sat there with his arms folded.

“I am
so
sorry, Sprig.”

“You locked me in the bathroom. Again,” he
huffed at me. Technically he wasn’t “locked in.” The bolt hung on
the inside, and he could have easily unlatched it, but that wasn’t
what he meant.

I put my face in my hand. “I feel awful.”

When we moved from the shower to the bedroom,
Ryker quickly rolled Sprig up in a towel, placing him and Pam in
the bathroom.

“We left you a granola bar.” I shrugged,
shamefaced.

“You think that makes it okay to confine me
in a bathroom with no windows? I couldn’t even escape outside.”

“No.” I dropped my head.

“I’m just kidding. Being locked up with a
granola bar is like my ideal night.” He chirped and ran past me to
the bedroom. “Hey, seal clubber, it’s time to put the weapon away
or PETA will start protesting.” Sprig jumped on the opposite bed,
then leaped to the table by the window. Three new packets of honey
sat on the surface.

“Oh no.” I ran for him, but he tore into them
before I reached him, sucking on all of them at once. Ryker had
already let him have four beforehand. “Sprig, let me have them.” I
held out my hand.

He shook his head.

“
Sprig
.” Shit. It turned out I did
have a “mom” voice. I reached for them, and he sprinted off the
table, slipping out of my fingers.

“Dammit. You know what happens when you eat
too much in one day.” I wasn’t really upset; it was more of a game.
Sprig twittered as he jumped, leaped, and fluttered all over the
room like a trapped bird.

Then the sugar really kicked in. “Ahhhh!” he
screamed, chasing his tail, and knocked the clock off the
nightstand. “More. More. More!”

Ryker smirked when I crossed my arms and
cocked my hip to one side. He leaned over the bed, snatched the
sprite, and held him in the air.

Sprig’s legs and arms continued to shimmy as
if he was running. “Look in the sky. It’s a pixie. It’s a
hummingbird. No it’s Supersprite! Dah-dah-dah! The deity’s warrior
of sweet nectar.”

“It’s more like your kryptonite,” I
teased.

“I need a cape! Ahhhh. Honey, I will save
you!”

Ryker’s white eyes glinted, and he sat up,
placing Sprig next to him. He leaned over and grabbed the brand-new
package of underwear he had stolen for me. “You want a cape?”

“Yes. Yes. Yes!” Sprig spun in a circle.
“Honey Hero needs a cape!”

“What are you doing?” My hand went to my
laughing lips.

Ryker tore open the package and grabbed one
of the black cotton bikini-style undies. Looping the leg holes
together, he slipped it over Sprig’s head. “There. A cape.”

Sprig went still, his eyes widening, then his
body began to tremble. “Oh. My. Gods. This. Is… Awesome!” He zoomed
around the bed like a windup toy.

Laughter heaved out of my tender stomach, and
Ryker struggled to keep a straight face.

“Suuupperrspprriittee,” Sprig sang. “I’m so
badass. Like a honey-crunch, double-dipped-doughnut,
rolled-in-sugar, fried-in-honey badass. Bees will be my pollen
posse.”

A pair of underwear flew behind him as he
zipped around the bed. He was about to leap on Ryker, when his head
fell forward, face-planting onto Ryker’s arm. Deep snores vibrated
from his little chest, his tongue hanging out the side of his
mouth.

“His superpower is being a pain.” Ryker
placed him on the pillow.

I went to the bathroom and snatched Pam.
“Supersprite and his sidekick, Pam the Goat.” I placed her next to
him. “Has a catchy ring to it.”

“Pretty much defines our screwed-up
world.”

I tapped my forehead, chuckling. “Just wait
till he adds his honey backpack to the ensemble.”

“Weirdo.” Ryker winked. “Definitely takes
after your side.”

I sat on the bed, crossing my legs in front
of me. Ryker lay on his back, one arm behind his head, the other on
my knee, rubbing my leg.

“What would I do without him?” I watched
Sprig sleep. I felt like the Grinch whose heart grew three sizes in
one day. My family was so important to me. They were my air, my
world. But my family was in pieces, separated. Tonight I hoped that
would change.

“We’ll get her.” Ryker’s fingers moved over
my bare skin. He knew without a word what I was thinking. I nodded,
pushing back my shoulders.

“Yes. We will.” There was no room for
doubt.

“Please stay close to me tonight.” Ryker sat
up, leaning his head against mine. His damp hair fell loose and
tickled my cheek. “I know she is important to you, so she’s
important to me.” He inhaled. “But if it’s your life or hers,
please don’t hate me later for picking yours. You will always be
first, above everyone else.”

I let my head fall onto his shoulder. How
could I hate someone for that? I nodded against him, and I felt him
kiss my temple.

“Okay, let’s find Amara and go over our
plans.”

I sat back as he climbed out of bed,
strolling over to the pile of clothes he nicked earlier. I watched
the fluidity of his naked figure in awe. This man picked me. Loved
me. Sometimes life came out of nowhere and clobbered you, tearing
down your preconceived ideas and prejudices, till all you could see
was the truth behind the labels.

I had started out despising fae, treating
them like beasts whose lives weren’t equal to humans. Now as I
thought of anything happening to the fae standing before me or the
one sleeping on the pillow next to me, I could barely stand it.

“What?” Ryker had stopped, watching me.

I walked over to him, wrapped my arms around
him, and burrowed my head into his chest. He submerged me in his
embrace, leaning his chin on my head. We stood there for a long
time just holding each other.

“I’m gonna need that shirt back,” he finally
muttered into my ear, his fingers running along the hem, brushing
the back of my thighs.

“Come and get it,” I whispered against his
neck.

He took claim of his shirt and me. Fiercely.
Like the end of the world was coming. He made sure everyone in the
vicinity heard our passion. While vehement cries tore from my
throat, I silently thanked fate for putting this man in my path.
For showing me it was okay to love someone so much you almost
couldn’t breathe. And more, to let myself be loved in kind.

####

Amara returned thirty minutes later with a
greasy pizza. Sprig still snored from the bed as we went over every
detail of our raid …at least what Ryker and I could talk about.
There was no mention of Lars as the bind blocked our mouths from
even hinting. It surprised me a little that Amara didn’t even
question our plan. I had no doubt her willingness stemmed mostly
from wanting to please Ryker, but I sensed it was also about Vadik.
From Ryker’s brief accounts of their capture and what Vadik did to
her, I had no doubt he remained the driving force for the both of
them.

“You know our odds are not good with only
three of us.” Amara frowned, leaning over the makeshift map of the
inside I had drawn from my memory. Ryker did a hasty sketch of the
outside, giving Amara the rundown of the guards’ routine. “That
person you met? They’re not helping out with this attack, are
they?” Her eyebrow curved up questioningly.

Amara wasn’t stupid. She connected the dots
when we came back from some secret meeting, saying we were going to
raid Vadik’s warehouse. She knew there was more to the story.

“The person we went to meet?” Ryker kept his
eyes level on hers. “No. We will not be receiving aid from him in
this.”

I wanted to snort.
Well played
. It
technically was true. We went to meet Dunn. He would not be helping
us with Vadik.
The Unseelie King is,
I wanted to scream. At
the same time I couldn’t fight a twinge of doubt from forcing its
way up. Would he actually follow through? He might have made a deal
with us, but he was a demon, a ruthless, extremely powerful one.
Demons were not known for being trustworthy or fair. He could be
setting us up. For all I knew, he and Vadik were allies.

It didn’t make sense. Why didn’t he just take
the stone from me the night he kidnapped us? Maybe he didn’t feel
it? That seemed unlikely, but I really didn’t know. I knew I had to
go forward. Enough sitting and talking; it was time to act.

“It’s not three. It’s four.” Sprig popped up
from the pillow as if he had been awake the whole time, the
underwear trailing behind him.

“You’re not coming with us. You’ll just get
in the way.” Amara leaned back in the chair, sipping her soda.

“Excuse me, huckleberry witch. Who are you to
tell me I can’t go? I’m an important part of this team.”

“What the hell are you wearing? Is that
underwear?”

“Cape.”

“It’s gross.”

“They’re new.” I shrugged.

She glared at me, shaking her head.

Sprig sat on the edge of the bed, holding up
his hands. “You all need me. I’ve got magical fingers. Pam tells me
so. One of my superpowers.”

“Wow.” I slapped my hand on my face. “So many
dark, bad images.”

“Thought you said that was
my
magical
power?” Ryker mumbled into my ear, his eyes sparking with
mischief.

“Ugh. Please.” Amara’s nose crinkled. “Stop
before I vomit all over. I can barely sit in this room. It’s
saturated with sex.”

I wasn’t one bit sorry about that. My mind
drifted briefly to what we did in this room after the shower. I
smirked. If she only knew how we used that chair, she would not be
sitting in it. Nor would she touch the dresser, the table, or
either bed.

“I’m more needed than you are.” Sprig leaped
on the table near me. “We should leave you behind. How about in the
dumpster with the other dead body? It is put-out-the-trash day,
right,
Bhean
?”

“Shut up, freak,” Amara spat back. “Why don’t
you go get some of the honey packets they got you and see if any of
them are poisoned?”

Sprig made a huge gasp. “You wouldn’t.”

“Hmm…would I do something like that?” She
tapped her lips and tilted her head, a cruel smile on her
mouth.

Sprig’s fingers clasped over his mouth in
shock, then he tore across the table for her.

“Whoa!” Ryker snatched him off the counter
the moment he scampered past.

“Let me down!” Sprig twisted and clawed,
still reaching for Amara. “That witch needs to be taught a
lesson.”

Amara burst out laughing. “You’re going to
teach me a lesson? You’re wearing underwear around your neck and
carry around a stuffed animal.”

A high-pitched cry came from Sprig. “Let me
down!”

“No.” Ryker cupped his hands around him,
cocooning him. Sprig immediately quieted down, but his chest heaved
with panting.

“But how can she even tease about that?” he
whimpered. “You don’t mess with honey. It’s just wrong.”

“I know,” Ryker spoke quietly, his voice
rumbling and soothing.

“You hear that, purple she-devil? Respect the
honey.”

“Sprig?” Ryker said. “Calm down. She didn’t
touch the honey.”

“It’s okay?” His voice sounded full of
hope.

“Yes.”

“Oh good.” Sprig barely got that last word
out before his head fell back, his mouth opened, and snores stormed
out. The mere thought of ruined honey caused too much stress. And
with the overdose of sugar today, he was sleeping more than he was
awake. I lifted an eyebrow at Ryker as if to say,
See, what did
I tell you? You never listen.

He only winked back.

Damn Viking.

“That seriously is freaky,” Amara grumbled,
nodding at Sprig.

“Enough, Amara.” Ryker’s attention went back
to the map, but I watched him draw Sprig into his chest with one
hand. A wave of tenderness hit me at the idea of Ryker as a father.
Not that I wanted a baby right now, if we even could. But it was
still sweet to see. Like,
look, my man can hold his baby and set
up a heist at the same time
. I found that seriously hot.