Make Me Burn: Fireborne, Book 2 (17 page)

“Don’t be an idiot.” But Shev was shaken. “Our people haven’t been able to find your brother and most doubt his existence. Too many saw the explosion that took him. And the treaty is very specific that only
one
physical vessel can hold the powers of the Fireborne at a time. A body made of Jinn and Niyr, human blood and sacred sand. A child from the Ammu line. The only way your brother could be Fireborne would be if you were an urn of cremated remains on Penn’s shelf, which clearly isn’t the case.”

Clearly. “Are you sure that’s what the treaty says? Ram told me he never actually got a good look at the thing.”

“Ram never wanted to look at it. He never took anything seriously. Certainly not his studies. He was always more than happy to let me tell him whatever he needed to know. You know how he likes shortcuts. He never respected our leaders, our rules, before his sister was exiled, before he met you. After you? Well, you know how that turned out.” She took a breath and lowered her voice, looking away from Aziza with an odd expression on her face. “But we are discussing your brother and how he could remain hidden from us. There are letters connected to the treaty that imply it could be the sand itself that is aiding him. It has a magic all its own. It gives you your abilities
and
hides its keeper from all of us. It is the most powerful substance in any of our worlds, the most coveted. Drawn from a site that is lost to us, for good reason. Perhaps the sand hides Joseph as well.”

Was that hope she was feeling? “Do you think that’s possible?”

Shev frowned. “It is sentient—in a way. Aware of its power, if nothing else. We know it affects your dreams. Your mind. It is said that even to be near the sand gives visions that can make someone mad, and against my advice and your Niyr’s you took more than your share. There’s no way of knowing what that will do to you or what it could do to others. All we have is the treaty and our priests’ stories.”

“I haven’t seen you in weeks and you have to mention that?” Aziza propped her hands on her hips, knowing her emotions were heightened, but not being able to control them. From one minute to the next she wasn’t sure if she wanted to hug Shev or yell at her. “I haven’t mentioned you running away while Ram and Penn nearly died, have I? I disobeyed you and Te and used the vial my brother
wanted
me to have. I ignored you and didn’t instantly do the wild thing with the nearest human man with a good sperm count to continue my illustrious line.” She took a ragged breath, her pain and heightened emotional state making her speak rashly. “I apologize, okay? Is that why you’ve avoided all my calls for you? You never struck me as a coward who talked tough but ran when it was time to fight. I never thought you would give up on your friends so easily.”

“Damn it, Aziza.” Shev grabbed her arm and shook her roughly. “You have
no idea
what I’ve faced. The battles I’ve fought and the pain I’ve suffered in order to continue to fulfill my duties. I am many things that you might wish I wasn’t…that
I
might wish I wasn’t. But I am not a coward.”

Aziza swallowed. She’d never seen the Jinn’s eyes glow with so much ire. Anger directed at her.

“Did Ram tell you, his precious Aziza, that it felt as if one of his limbs had been removed? That when that link is broken—which has only happened twice in my people’s history—the pain, both physical and emotional, is unbearable?
Tau’mas
are handpicked and created in adolescence to protect embattled cities and guard whole civilizations that the Jinn deem important. We are rare and so we are held in the highest of esteem by our fellow warriors. Envied for our connection to each other. And now? Because
you
made him choose, all that is gone for the both of us. The comfort of knowing we would never be alone is gone from us. We are separate. Broken. And even when his exile is over, we can never be made whole again.”

Shev released Aziza from her grip. “I don’t blame you. You cannot help what you are. Who you are. Just as Ram cannot help how he feels about you. He chose his path and I chose mine. Perhaps it was always destined to be this way. I have no fear that I will survive without the link, but Ram is different. Our connection gave him a focus and control he didn’t have on his own. Centered him.” Her eyes narrowed. “But he has already lost his way. Forgotten who he is and what he believes in.”

“No,” Aziza disagreed, though she was thoroughly shaken by Shev’s words. “No, Ram is better now. He needs a little more time.”

“Ram is ignoring his oath, his family and his people and playing right into Jiniyr hands,” Shev sneered. “He is so busy pining for you and embracing humanity that he will find himself dead at Enforcer hands before he knows he is being set up.”

“You agree the Jiniyr are setting him up? Choosing their victims from Underbridge members he’s played with to make him look guilty?”

“I do.”

Aziza groaned. “But Ram has no powers. He isn’t my Qarin at the moment. He isn’t a threat to them.”

Shev looked away again. “If they know you, Aziza, they know how to hurt you. Forcing me out of the equation hurt you. Forcing your lover to kill Ram will hurt you far more and take two of your protectors out of the game. If they are allowed to continue, you won’t be able to save Ram, and for that you will never be able to forgive Brandon.”

Aziza couldn’t let herself think about that possibility. “Just to hurt me,” she whispered. “They are playing with Ram’s life, killing these women and making it look like a Jinn blood ritual just to hurt me? No. There has to be more to it than that.”

“How do you know about our rituals?” Shev’s words were razor-sharp. “Did Ram tell you something?”

Aziza nodded. “He said it looks like they’re practicing. Getting it wrong.”

Shev’s smile was hard. “So he does still have a brain in his head. Good to know. And you’re right. I believe Ram is just a convenience. A bonus, if you like. Their plans are more complex.”

“Come back with me, Shev,” she pleaded. “Even if you aren’t linked, you still know him better than I do. Better than anyone. You could talk to him. Better yet, if you can’t talk to someone in charge and tell them I need him to be reinstated, you can find a way to let him see his sister. And you. We can’t leave him to twist in the wind this way.”

Shev stepped back. “Now is not the time for reunions. Not yet. This tear between us is still too fresh. Seeing me might have the opposite effect on him than the one you’re hoping for. And his sister will never be given permission to see him so long as he remains in exile. She would share his fate or worse, and that would also hurt him. He is far happier tonight than I have seen him in ages, thanks to you. For that you have my gratitude. Let us leave it at that. But you can give him this.”

She slid the bag from over her shoulder and held it out to Aziza. “They are things that will remind him of who he is and what he loves. His ornamental dagger. His books.” She paused. “A note from his sister.”

Aziza shook her head, not wanting to take it. “Do you really think a bag of keepsakes is better than seeing either of you in person?”

“It’s the only way. I can’t stay here any longer. Until I see you again, keep yourself and Ram out of trouble. Oh, and stay on your guard when you finally meet the Enforcer’s Alpha.” She grimaced. “He’s a prick with truly questionable loyalties.”

“Thanks,
interim
Qarin.”

Shev flinched. “Fulfilling my duty doesn’t require your gratitude, Fireborne. Merely your continued existence.”

The air behind Shev shimmered again, revealing the briefest glimpse of Qaf nightlife before she stepped back through the opening and closed it behind her as if she’d never been.

Shev was gone.

Aziza swallowed a self-pitying sob. She’d actually missed her. Missed the wild, playful Jinn who flirted with anyone within a three-mile radius and told her truths when everyone else danced around and force-fed her riddles.

Aziza picked up the knapsack, which smelled of wild flowers and exotic spices, and sighed. She was tired of losing people. Whatever the reason, despite what Shev had done, she couldn’t imagine another Jinn—a stranger—filling Shev’s shoes. Or Ram’s. She wondered if, now that she knew she could see into Qaf, she could lodge an official complaint in person. Maybe chuck over a lamp with a note inside and see if they could take a joke.

She was shaking again and hating the silence. She needed a distraction. Needed to find Ram.

“Reboot, people,” she muttered. “Abra-fucking-cadabra.”

She instinctively lifted her hands to cover her ears, almost dropping the bag. The world started turning again, bringing with it the sound of the crowds and the music of the club blaring through the restroom door.

Who needed Jinn? “Wish granted.”

If only everything were that easy.

She made her way back to the table with her treasure, noticing that Ram had joined them as she approached. He wore a simple white T-shirt now and a concerned expression on his face. She wanted to go to him, to tell him about Shev. About his sister. But she could tell something must have happened in the few minutes since Mayet’s Witness had turned off. Something horrible.

When she got within hearing distance, she discovered what it was.

“Her name was Stacy,” Chiye whispered before she let Greg pull her into his arms. West moved closer to them and laid his hand on his roommate’s shoulder.

Scotland Yard had finally identified the body Aziza had cradled as the girl had taken her last breath, and the news was sweeping through Underbridge in a painful wave of grief.

She imagined it would be hard for them. Another member of their community gone. A girl who fit the pattern. No family to mourn her—no one but this tight-knit group of self-proclaimed misfits.

“Did you know her, West?”

West squeezed Chiye’s shoulder once more before reaching out to pull Aziza into his arms. Apparently he needed comfort too. Aziza bit her lip hard, distracted by her feelings of guilt and the pain in the dead girl’s eyes, as well as the static shock that zipped up her spine when they touched and his masculine scent—why was it so familiar?

“Stacy was here before we became members,” he said soberly. “Thoroughly committed to the lifestyle, but even more to this place. She made strudel for the Underbridge picnic a month ago and she was in charge of the upcoming Samhain celebration.” He pulled back and studied Aziza intently. “So, yes, I knew her well enough. Chiye was closer to her than I was. Ram played with her, I think. The regular members have already begun the head count, since the news tonight finally said what we’ve been afraid of since the second body was found. Some sick bastard is definitely targeting women from the club.”

Ram had played with Stacy.
She turned to Ram and their eyes met. “Is it true?”

“It is.” His expression was solemn as he studied her. “How are you, Aziza? And what’s in the bag?”

She batted his concern away. Now was not the time for sharing. “It doesn’t matter. I’m fine. My emotions are the last thing we need to be worrying about at the moment.”

She turned to Greg. “Babe? We need to get Ram home. Now.”

Greg nodded, but Chiye looked up at that. “You’re leaving?”

West, his arm still wrapped around Aziza’s shoulders, squeezed her close. “Can I talk to you in private for a minute?”

She followed him a few steps away from the others and he turned to look down at her. “Aziza Jane, I get that you don’t know us, but Ram does,” he assured her. “He’s comfortable at my place, and Greg and Chiye are currently stuck together like magnets. If Ram and your detective boyfriend don’t get along, I have a feeling his connection with Stacy won’t win him any brownie points. It might be better for everyone if you all just came back with us.”

“That’s very kind of you. Are you sure?” Aziza wasn’t sure why, but she trusted West. Even better, as far as she knew, Brandon, Natalie, Fido and their crew didn’t know anything about him, so Ram would be safe for the night. The idea of a group currently sounded a hell of a lot better than a sleepless night alone when she was so emotional, and since Penn was with Hillary there was no reason to say no.

West smiled. “I am sure. My house is yours, and I could use your help. Chiye has known a lot of loss in her life. She didn’t know Stacy well, but death in general is harder on her than it is on most people. That’s something I believe you can relate to?”

“I can.”

“Then it’s settled. We’ll all go home together. Chiye will have company, and you, after that powerful scene you shared with Ram, will have all the comfort you need within arm’s reach.”

All she needed within arm’s reach.
He had no idea how much she needed.

This could be a bad idea.

Chapter Seven

This was a
very
bad idea, Aziza thought as West took her coat and hung it in the small entry closet.

How had it happened? How had she ended up in this two-story townhouse in Soho with Greg, Chiye and West…and Ram?

Because you said yes.

She was still too shaken up by her scene, by everything that had happened tonight. She should have gone back to the flat, but after her talk with Shev and the news of Ram’s connection to the latest victim, she couldn’t leave him. She wouldn’t leave unless he came home with her, where she could protect him. If anyone mentioned Ram playing at the fetish club with Stacy to the Enforcers, it would convince them once and for all that he was one of the culprits.