03 Solar Flare - Spark Series (5 page)

“Never,” she assured him, then turned her
attention back to her date. “Don’t be offended—I’m a brew master.
We’re unapologetic snobs about drinks.”

“Of course,” Darren murmured, though he still
looked undecided. Maybe his first impression was to run.

Brandy hid a wry smile behind her glass. “So
tell me more about yourself.”

It was weird. Darren started talking, but her
attention gradually wandered. Usually she fixed her dates with her
full attention, looking for anything that seemed off. With him, she
could only attend him for about four minutes before her gaze went
to the dancers. She realized what was happening and frowned at her
drink. She was savoring it, and it wasn’t half gone. It shouldn’t
be the problem.

And then the hallucinations began.

She gripped the counter as her surroundings
dissolved into smoke. One image, sharp and clear, was all she could
see. Ryven Atarus, her alien brother in law. His irises were flame
orange, tinged with gold at the edges. Brimstone eyes, filled with
bloodlust. Fear surged in her throat, sent adrenaline through her
system in a furious surge. It was not herself she feared for,
though. No, those gleaming eyes were not focused on her, but on
something dear to her, and far more frightening.

They were fixed on her sister, Xera.

Brandy drew a sharp breath and shook her
head. The image faded, but the fear lingered. It was hard to focus.
What was happening to her?

Darren looked at her carefully. “You seem a
little distracted. Would you like to find a quieter place to
talk?”

Normally she would say no to such a
suggestion, but her mind seemed oddly muddied. “Sure.” She followed
him passively, still wondering desperately what was wrong with her.
Was she ill? If so, it had struck quickly. She couldn’t think what
to do about it.

She could see wisps of smoke trailing on the
edge of her vision. The image was just a heartbeat away. Maybe if
she kept walking she could leave it behind.

Darren led her to a set of stairs and up to a
private room. He ushered her in and closed the door. It was quieter
here, but she could still hear the dancers. The bass thumped the
floor.

There was nowhere to sit but the floor and a
bed. He gestured to it. “Why don’t you sit down until your head
clears?”

Alarms, deep seated and intense, went off in
her heart. She didn’t feel well, but this wasn’t right. “No.” She
meant to add more, but the words slipped away. Smoke filled her
head, made it hard to think.

“It’s okay,” he said with a smile she didn’t
trust. “You can trust me.”

As if her brain had gone on vacation, she
missed the transition from refusal to being in his arms. Adrenaline
fueled panic cleared a window in her mind. Suddenly she knew if she
didn’t run now, she wouldn’t get another chance.

He was all over her, his mouth on her ear,
his hands under her shirt. Fear rose, but fury was stronger. She’d
been raised in a bar, had dealt with more than one straying hand,
though none had ever had his advantage. As his hand slid into her
pants, she grabbed his hair and rammed her forehead into his nose.
There was a telltale crunch. He howled and grabbed for his face.
Blood bubbled down his upper lip.

Brandy lurched to the side and kicked out.
She barely registered the noise as his knee collapsed under her
practical black shoe. She grabbed her jacket from the floor and
darted for the door. The room was fuzzy, details vague, but she got
out. The stairs were like a long, black tunnel, and she shoved
through dancers it would have been easier to get around.

Maybe she shouldn’t have driven, but she
wasn’t thinking straight. It wasn’t until several blocks later when
she ran onto a curb and nearly kissed a light pole that she had the
sense to stop.

She sat there, trembling. Everything was
fuzzy, and she needed help. She needed her com.

She fumbled for her jacket and got the com,
but couldn’t think what to do…until a picture of Azor entering his
number flashed in her mind. She drew in a thick breath and searched
for his name in her address book. Seconds later he picked up.

“Hello?”

She sobbed, too overcome to say her name.

“Brandy? Where are you?”

She gulped and tried to look around.
“I’m…close to the club. There’s a tea house outside.”

“Are you alone?”

“Y-yes.”

“I’ll be there in five minutes. Stay
there.”

Time wasn’t working properly for her, because
it seemed he was there almost instantly. She jumped when he knocked
on the window and stared as he opened her door.

“You should have locked the door,” he said,
then brushed her hair from her eyes. “I called for a tow. Come on,
we’re going to the hospital.”

Her eyes widened. She despised hospitals.
“No! Why?”

He helped her out of the car and glanced at
the light post, mere inches away. “That’s why.”

She looked at it and drew in a shuddering
breath. “I’m not drunk.”

“Tell me what happened,” he said as he
escorted her to his transport and gently helped her in. He did up
the seatbelt and she barely noticed.

Her breathing sped up with stress. “He…he
took me to a room.”

Azor looked at her grimly, but there was
sorrow there, too. “How bad did he hurt you?”

She stared at him, confused. “No, I hurt him.
His leg…I think.”

He looked relieved. “Good girl!” he said
fiercely. He stood up, but rested his forearm on the top of the
transport. He stood like that for several heartbeats. She could
only see the top of his chin, but his head was bent. In a moment,
he glanced at her and shut her door. His face was shadowed, but
there was something in his expression….

He waited until they were well on the way
before he asked, “Did he give you anything to eat or drink?”

She frowned. It was so hard to think. “He had
a drink. It was too sweet.”

“How much did you have?” he asked,
concerned.

“Just a taste. I ordered a scotch.”

That surprised a laugh from him. He actually
grinned at her. “Thank God for whiskey snobs!”

She frowned at him. “It was scotch.”

He didn’t answer, but his foot got heavier on
the accelerator.

They pulled into the hospital and he escorted
her into the waiting room. She looked around the room with dismay,
having forgotten they were going to a hospital.

“Easy,” he said when she tried to leave. “A
quick blood test and we go, I promise.” He told the receptionist
what he wanted and escorted Brandy to a chair at the side of the
room. He brushed her hair from her face and looked at her
carefully. “Are you sure he didn’t hurt you? We can do something
about that here.”

She stared at him until his meaning
penetrated. Heat flushed her skin. “He…” She had to pause and
swallow. “He got his hand in my…d-down my pants,” she whispered,
unable to look at him. “That’s when I hit him.”

Azor opened his mouth to say something, then
his face hardened. He stared at something over her shoulder.

Chilled, she looked and saw a man come in on
a stretcher. He was clutching his knee. The nightmare continued.
“It’s him,” she said softly.

Azor nodded and gripped her hand
reassuringly, then went over and spoke to an orderly. The exchange
only lasted a moment, and then he returned to her side. “Come on.
It’s time for your blood test.”

She stared at him, not comprehending. Her
attacker was here and Azor wanted her blood?

“He’s not going anywhere,” he assured her,
interpreting her look. “They think you dislocated his knee. I’ll
have plenty of time to arrest him after we take care of you.”

She took in a shaky breath and nodded. “I’m
glad I hurt him.”

The next half hour was confusing. She had to
ask twice why they were there. Azor stepped out once or twice, but
it seemed he was back quickly each time. He drove her home and
walked her up to her suite. She wasn’t afraid to have him
there.

“You should try to rest,” he suggested once
he had her inside. “Unless you want to wait for your sister. She’ll
be here soon.”

Brandy frowned. “Why? You’re here.” The
terrors of the night had shown her how foolish her attitude about
Azor had been. Yes, they’d once been adversaries, and she’d
remember that. She’d also remember his kindness to her tonight.
He’d been much more than the sum of her memories, which is where
she’d been living. It was time she gave him a second chance.

He looked down. “I shouldn’t be here long.
You need your family.”

She sighed. “You’re wrong, but I’m tired. If
I can sleep, I want to.”

He nodded and brushed the hair from her face.
“You can still call me. I’ll answer.”

“You keep doing that,” she told him solemnly.
“Touching my hair.”

He immediately stopped. “I’m sorry.”

“It doesn’t hurt.” She looked at him for a
moment. “Thank you. For tonight.”

“I’m glad you called. I’ll check on you
tomorrow.” He hesitated. “Remember what they said about after
effects. If you have problems later….”

“I’ll tell someone,” she promised.

“Good.” There was an awkward pause.
“Goodnight.”

“Night.” She stared at the door, then headed
for her room. She was so very tired.

CHAPTER 4

Azor went to the bar after he dropped Brandy
off and had a quiet word with the bartender. He never had to issue
any threats—the cold look in his eyes spoke for him. The bartender
swore he hadn’t doctored the drink. He also told him the club’s
owners rented rooms occasionally and gave him a contact number.

Azor promised he’d be in touch. The barkeep
didn’t look thrilled to hear it.

Renting rooms was hardly an offense. The
owners could claim it was for patrons who were too intoxicated to
drive, but it was a weak sell, since there were plenty of cabs
willing to ferry drunks.

He had a look at one of the rooms in
question. It was tiny and bare of everything but a bed, toilet and
sink. There was nothing to incriminate Darren Topek, though. He
hadn’t thought there would be.

A few people remembered Brandy pushing her
way out, but nothing else. By the time he was through it was
getting late—or early—and the place was thinning out.

Though he didn’t yet have a warrant, Azor
wasn’t the kind of man to let that slow him down. He found Darren
Topek’s address and parked two blocks away, in front of bakery. It
didn’t take long for him to find a quiet alley and shift into a
more useful form.

Shifting was as easy for him as moving from
air to water. His muscles quivered and changed, malleable as jelly.
His skin loosened, then tightened over his form as he became more
feline, lithe and dense muscled. Fine, pale hair coved his skin,
chaffing slightly under his clothes. Half man, he need not shed his
clothes. That was good—it was annoying to take them off and on,
though he removed the shoes from his clawed toes; they pinched.
Half beast, he gained a sharp sense of smell and superior ears. His
nose would help him search Topek’s home, and the ears would alert
him to trouble.

There were very few people around at that
time of night. He had no trouble breaking into Topek’s apartment; a
nice little place in a quiet part of town. The place was tidy, and
he couldn’t smell anyone else around. The streetlights allowed his
cats eyes to pick out details without turning on the lights. He
smelled his way though the apartment, looking for traces of drugs.
In the bathroom he got lucky. There was an empty bag on the
bathroom counter. Careful not to touch it, he leaned in for a
closer smell. The bag had held the drug he was looking for.
Nice.

He smiled and leaned back. It was nice to
know they’d find something when it came time to search the place
tomorrow. He’d make certain he was a part of the team who served
the warrant. It wouldn’t do to miss this little gem. And meanwhile,
he’d put a watch on the place, make certain no one came by to
dispose of evidence, if Topek were cagey enough to think of it.

Satisfied, he decided to call it a night.
Tonight he’d be able to get to sleep. Tomorrow, Brandy would get
her justice.

He found Brandy hard at work in a corner of
The Spark’s huge kitchen. It wasn’t the early hour—it was barely
seven AM—but her chosen work station that surprised him. He studied
her as she measured ingredients into a fermentation vessel. “I
thought you built an entire wing for that sort of thing.”

She glanced up, but kept working. “I leave
the actual grunt work for our brew master. This is where I
experiment.”

He considered her words. She’d earned her
title years ago, but he hadn’t realized they’d hired someone to
take her place. Now he wondered when it had happened.

They’d found her in the brewery, years ago,
when he’d still been investigating The Spark. Brandy had been tied
to some pipes and tortured unmercifully. It was a testimony to her
strength that she’d survived, but he knew her spirit couldn’t have
escaped unscathed. He wondered now what unseen damage had been
done. “How long have you had that arrangement?”

She met his gaze. “I worked in the brewery
with an assistant for nine months after I healed. When Chazer got
his license, we promoted him. I still perform quality control. He’s
good.”

“I hadn’t noticed a change.”

“You rarely drink. I think I could count on
one hand the times I’ve seen you heft a beer. My father would have
kicked you out,” she said, but she smiled a little. “The beer,
however, is the same. We use the same recipes.” She put the lid on
her bucket. “This is soda for Gem’s kids. It’s a holiday
present.”

“Ah. I like the new melon flavor.” Brandy had
added several to the menu in the last few years, and they were
wildly popular. That wasn’t why he’d come, though.