Kissed by Fire (15 page)

“Of course I know. Your room is next to mine.
I wouldn’t say I heard everything, but I certainly heard
enough.”

I felt myself blushing. Freaking
fantastic.

“I was worried. After last time.” She meant
when I touched the Atlantis amulet and discovered I was the Key,
the Royal Bloodline. When Jack freaked out and declared duty more
important that whatever it was that had been growing between
us.

“You were right to be worried.”

“Listen Morgan.” She still didn’t touch me,
but her presence was like a warm blanket wrapping around my heart,
smoothing away the anger and the hurt. “Jack is messed up. You know
that, I know that. Apparently 900 years doesn’t cure a person of
testosterone poisoning.”

That made me smile. “Guess not.” And Jack had
more than most. He’d been a Templar Knight, for crying out loud.
Not exactly the sitting by the fire with a good book type.

“He’s scared, you know. He’s a warrior,
always has been, and the last woman he loved was murdered. He
couldn’t save her, for all his skills, and now he’s got you and he
doesn’t know how to deal with it.”

“Yeah, life is shit, but wallowing in it
doesn’t do anyone any good.” I stared at the toes of my boots.

“You’re right about that. Life is for living
and it’s the bad stuff that makes the good stuff so good. We know
that, but Jack’s forgotten it. Nearly a thousand years of living
sort of takes the immediacy out of things. He thinks he’s got all
the time in the world to deal with this. To deal with you.”

I didn’t tell her that he might be right.
That I might be a Sunwalker, too. I hadn’t even admitted it to
myself yet, I wasn’t about to admit it to Kabita no matter she was
my best friend. “That still doesn’t change the fact that he ripped
my heart out and stomped on it. Again.”

A little girl with sunshine hair tripped by,
holding her mother with one pudgy hand and a bright red lolly with
the other. She beamed at me and I couldn’t help but smile back
despite the pain in my heart. I wondered if I’d have kids one day.
Hard to imagine with my life and job not to mention the whole
Sunwalker and Key of Atlantis thing, but weirder things had
happened.

Kabita stood up. “Yeah, and he’ll keep doing
it if you let him. I don’t think he knows if he’s coming or going.
He wants you, but he can’t deal with the guilt so he’ll keep coming
back and then freaking out. You’ve got to be the big brave adult
and tell him to step off until he gets his act together.”

“I did.”

“Then you’ve got to mean it.”

I thought about it and realized I did mean
it. It was time to stop dancing around with Jack and move on. He
would probably never be entirely out of my life, what with all this
Atlantean weirdness, but he could be out of my heart. He just
wasn’t good for me. Like those candies that are lovely and sweet at
first and then hit you with a center full of sourness.

I stood up, too. “Enough about Jack. I’ll get
over it, and him. We’ve got more important things to worry
about.”

Kabita nodded and we began walking along the
wide path. The park was starting to fill up. It was the weekend,
after all. A couple of pre-teens zoomed by on roller skates
followed by an older man on a bike. A young couple pushing a
stroller passed us, eyes glued on each other and still glazed with
love. Part of me wanted to coo, but the other part wanted to growl
out of sheer jealousy.

“Anything else new?” Kabita asked.

I was happy to get off the subject of Jack,
so I told her about my dream of the dragon. “It was really strange.
It felt real, almost more like a memory than a dream, but I haven’t
been to Hadrian’s Wall in years and I’ve certainly never met a
dragon.”

Kabita paused, a funny look on her face.

“Kabita, are you OK?”

She waved me off. “Yes, yes, I’m fine. I was
just thinking of something else. Listen, you haven’t forgotten our
appointment with Ben Landry today, have you?”

I blinked at the sudden change of topic.
“No.” I totally had. “Of course not. He might know something
important. Maybe something about Alison’s research.”

“Exactly. It’s nearly ten. He should be at
home now.”

I followed her to the taxi stand wondering
what was going on in that head of hers. As usual with Kabita, she’d
tell me when she was good and ready, but I was starting to get the
feeling there was something she wasn’t telling me.

***

Ben Landry lived in a fifth floor flat in one
of the slightly dodgier parts of town. There was no elevator, so we
took the stairs. Good thing I stayed in shape or I might have died.
Well, not literally, of course.

The air inside the stairwell was close and
stuffy, reeking of garlic and curry spices and stale urine. There
were a few bare bulbs hanging from the ceiling, but they weren’t on
and I didn’t see a switch. Only a tiny grime covered window on each
landing shed a bit of light. It was also a good thing I had
excellent night vision or I could have wound up falling on my
ass.

Kabita rapped on Ben’s door. We heard
shuffling on the other side and then, “Who is it?” His voice was a
bit hoarse like he’d been asleep. Or crying.

“Kabita Jones. Alison’s cousin.”

I heard a chain rattle, then a slide of the
deadbolt and the door swung open. Ben Landry was just as tall and
slender as I remembered. Up close, I discovered he was better
looking that I’d realized. Cute in a kind of geeky way, with really
pretty gray eyes and ridiculously thick black lashes, but his eyes
were rimmed in red. Crying, then.

Drinking, too, by the smell of him. Though he
seemed sober enough.

He smiled at us, and there was sadness behind
the smile. “Come in, please.” He stepped back so we could
enter.

Ben’s flat was pretty much what I expected of
a single guy, but a lot cleaner. Spartan furnishings and zero
decoration. Surprisingly, there was no TV. The only things he
appeared to have spent money on were a bank of computers along one
wall and a really snazzy desk chair.

“Welcome. Can I get you some tea?
Coffee?”

We each murmured our thanks and asked for
coffee. He waved us to the kitchen table while he tinkered with the
kettle.

“Listen, Ben, I’m going to cut to the chase
here.” Kabita’s tone was calm, no-nonsense. “What was your
relationship with Alison?”

A spoon clunked against the side of a mug as
though she’d caught him off guard. “I promised her I wouldn’t say
anything. She didn’t want people to know.”

“She’s dead, Ben.” I kept my tone soft and
comforting. I guess we were playing good cop, firm cop. “Whatever
you tell us can’t hurt her anymore.”

He closed his eyes and his shoulders slumped
even more. I hadn’t known that was possible. With a sigh, he picked
up the tray of drinks and brought it to the table. There were only
two chairs, so he wheeled over his computer chair and sat.

I held back a smile as he handed me a mug. It
had a bright red background with a white crown and the words “Keep
Calm and Carry On.” One of my favorite Briticisms, it never ceased
to amuse me.

“Alison and I ... ” His voice broke a little.
“We’d been seeing each other for about six months. We were in
love.” The last he said a little defensively as though he thought
we wouldn’t believe him.

“And?” Kabita prompted.

“She made me promise to keep it a secret.” He
shrugged and took a sip of his coffee. “I couldn’t blame her. With
what was going on at MI8, even being friends with me was a bad
idea.”

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

His jaw clenched. “Ever since I heard about
MI8, I’ve wanted to join. It’s all I ever wanted to do, but I knew
I’d have to hide my true self if I wanted to work there.”

“Why?” I had a feeling I knew.

“I’m a Witch.”

I watched Kabita’s knuckles turn white as she
clenched her mug. Her voice was a little hoarse as she asked her
next question. “How did you get away with it?”

“I’m essentially latent. I have almost zero
power. I can cast a minor finding spell, but that’s about it. It
was easy enough to bury it since I rarely use it anyway. The only
thing truly Witch-like about me is my religion, and they can’t ask
about that. So, I don’t tell. I keep it hidden.”

“Someone found out?” she prodded.

“They must have. We’d just started seeing
each other when Alison found a memo from her uncle ordering MI8’s
internal investigators to open a case on me. She was afraid if Mr.
Jones discovered we were seeing each other, it would be worse.” He
stared into his cup, swallowing hard. “She also thought that as
long as nobody knew we were together, she’d have a better chance
protecting me.”

“Did it work?” she asked.

“It must have. Now she’s gone, I’m on
suspension pending investigation.”

The irony of an agency devoted to studying
and understanding the supernatural refusing to allow admittance to
Witches did not escape me. There was something hinky about
Alister’s obsession with Witches, especially in light of his own
daughter’s heritage. As far as I was concerned, being descended
from a witch hunter wasn’t a good enough reason.

“Do you know what Alison was working on
before she died?” I changed the subject. While it sucked what
Alister was doing, it wasn’t what we were here for.

Ben shook his head. “No idea. She wouldn’t
talk about it. She’d just write everything in that little notebook
of hers. She assured me that once she had proof, she’d tell me
everything, but she didn’t want to put me in danger.” He heaved a
sigh. “As if I wasn’t screwed already.”

“We found the notebook, but it’s in code. Do
you know how to read it? This could be really important.”

“No idea, I’m afraid. All she said was that
it was written in a language older than time, the language of
fire.” He gave a little laugh. “I have no clue what she was talking
about.”

I was afraid I did. Kabita and I exchanged
looks. There was only one language I knew of that was sometimes
referred to as the “language of fire.” It was the ancient tongue of
the dragons.

“You know anyone who speaks dragon?”

We were standing outside Ben Landry’s
building. I didn’t know about Kabita, but I was certainly feeling a
little shell shocked. I gave her a slightly wobbly grin. “Strangely
enough, I do.”

She grinned back. “Well, then, let’s call the
lady.”

Sandra answered on the third ring. “The
Dragon’s Den. How may I help you?” her voice rang out cheerily.

“Hey, Sandra. It’s Morgan Bailey. I have a
small favor.”

“Of course, Morgan. How can I help you?”

“I don’t suppose you know anyone who can read
dragon tongue?”

The pause was what one might refer to as
lengthy. “Sandra?”

“I’m still here.”

“Can you help us? It’s important.”

“Will this help you keep your promise?” Her
voice held a slight edge of demand. Not pushy, just reminding me
I’d given my word.

“Yes.”

“I can’t read it,” she admitted. “But I might
know someone who can help. I’ll call you later, all right?”

“OK, thanks. I appreciate this, Sandra.”

“I take it she can help?” Kabita started
walking toward the tube station and I followed.

“Yeah, sounds like she knows somebody.”

“If she’s anything like Cordelia I have no
doubt of it.”

We both smirked at each other. Cordelia was a
wonderful person, but she knew some really strange people. Then
again, so did I.

We split up outside the tube station at
Oxford Circus. Kabita wanted to do some shopping and I’d rather
give myself a paper cut and pour lemon juice on it. I hated
shopping even in the best of times, and Oxford Street was far from
the best with its crowded sidewalks and hordes of gawking tourists.
Sharp elbows were pretty much a requirement.

Instead, I decided to head over to the
British Museum. I’d always loved it there. My favorite was the
Egyptian Room. Unfortunately, unless you hit it either first thing
in the morning or last thing at night, it was an absolute nightmare
of screaming school children and photographer wannabes.

Instead, I wormed my way through the crowd
around the Rosetta Stone and into the Greek wing. Parts of the
Greek exhibition were popular, but the sheer number of artifacts on
display meant that visitors rarely got much further than a cursory
view of the initial items, leaving many areas tourist free, quiet
and cool. Especially since it was off-season.

I found one such area and sank down onto the
nearest bench. The marble underfoot was slick and cool, the bench
perfectly carved to suit my height. A couple of artist types had
their camp chairs set up in front of a fresco and were sketching
away, but I didn’t mind. They were quiet. I stretched out and let
my eyes fall on a particularly hideous statue of some Greek deity
or other. I’d look like I was contemplating the artwork instead of
zoning out. Frankly, I needed a break.

My phone vibrated in my front pocket. I
pulled it out and hit the call button. “Hello?” I kept my voice
low, even though I was in a museum, not a library. No use pissing
off the artists. It wasn’t like I had a badge I could flash. Kabita
had been trying to get Trevor to give us badges, but the
Environmental Protection Agency wasn’t buying it. We were private
citizens as far as they were concerned.

“Morgan? Why are you whispering?” Inigo. My
palms got a little sweaty and my heart picked up speed, thumping
away in my chest. Why oh why did my libido insist on going into
overdrive every time I heard his voice?

“I’m in a museum.”

“Uh. Okay. Listen, Kabita told me about your
dream.”

Shit. What was with people sharing my
business all over the place? First Eddie tattling on me to Jack and
now Kabita over sharing with Inigo. And why would Kabita be sharing
my dreams with Inigo, anyway? It wasn’t like she ever had
before.