Make Me Burn: Fireborne, Book 2 (6 page)

He stilled. “What?”

“She wasn’t dead. That’s why Greg was on the street. He was calling for help. She… I couldn’t save her. Couldn’t stop it. She’d lost too much blood. But they left her alive.”

“Oh, my love, I’m so sorry you had to see that.” Brandon slid his arms around her and pulled her close, and for a moment, Aziza let him. Inhaled his scent, sunshine and sex, with a trace of cedar. Hers. Brandon.

And then she pulled away.

“Aziza?”

She shook her head. “I can’t—we can’t do this. Not right now.”

He went as still as the frozen world around him. “We can’t do what, Aziza?”

“This.” She pointed to the both of them. “This morning we were breaking your bed in and today we fought. It happens, I know. That’s life. But tonight you want me to fall into your arms and forget you lied about this? I can’t. To protect me, or to keep me from protecting Ram, you put Greg and Penn in danger. Are
you
so blinded by your duty that you don’t see that? If the Jiniyr are killing again, out in the open like this, don’t you think that the one person who can actually protect them should know? That I should know?”

“We have Enforcers watching the flat—”

“Of course you do.” She laughed, but it wasn’t a pleasant sound. “And that makes it better? Brandon, you know what I can do. And Natalie, as you’ve pointed out, made sure the Alpha knows. If obeying him is that important to you, schedule a meeting and I’ll curtsy my ass off. I would have done it the day we arrived if I’d known you’d be keeping things from me. I’ll do whatever I have to do to make sure no one else dies because of me. But I can’t go home with you tonight, and I think…I think we need to take a few days to—”

He covered her lips in a carnal kiss that cut off her words and made her feel as if her body were melting into his. This was what she’d needed since he came down the Tube steps—to be lost in him, in desire instead of darkness. Brandon kissed the way he did everything else—with complete focus and passion and a perfection that was almost too much. Too hot. Too good.
So good.

She tore her mouth away from his.
No.
He’d lied. About something too important to brush aside. “Brandon, don’t.”

“Stop me then,” he whispered roughly against her neck. “Tell me you don’t crave this. That you don’t respond to my touch as if you’d die without it.”

He lifted her off the ground and she held on to his shoulders automatically, her legs wrapping instinctively around his waist. His thick erection pushed hard and insistent against her stomach and she moaned.
This.
Her body knew his. This was what he was offering her. No thinking, just feeling. Just desire so intense she could already feel tears coming to her eyes and her body burning up from the inside out, because
she knew
. She knew how he felt inside her. How he would stretch her and how her tight sex would cling to him and take away his control, bringing out his beast.

She wanted to lose herself in it—in
him
—so much that stopping felt a little like ripping out her own heart. She dropped her legs and struggled. “Damn it, Brandon, I mean it.”

He gripped her ass and she could feel the heat of his hands through her jeans. Burning her. “Aziza, baby, you don’t. I can taste your need. I know your scent. You can’t lie about this. Not what we have between us. Not what we are to each other.”

Three girls dead.

He lied.

She stiffened in his arms, forcing herself to remain unresponsive until he groaned as if he were in pain and set her slowly back on her feet. He turned away from her and ran his hands through his hair, breathing deeply as if to calm himself.

“You’re in shock.” His voice was rough. “And I lost my head.”

She didn’t disagree. “I did too. I need Greg to take me home now.”

“Penn’s flat,” he corrected. “Not home.” He turned back around to face her, and his expression made her heart ache. “I promise you, Aziza, as an Enforcer and as a man, that I will die before I let anyone harm your family. All that I’ve done to serve the Alpha since we returned has been to protect them. To protect you.”

It rose up then, through the shock and horror of the night, through the regret—anger. “You lied, disappeared, told me over and over again that what you were doing had nothing to do with the Jiniyr. Nothing to do with me. How in the fuck does that protect me, Brandon? Ignorance doesn’t protect me, or keep the people I love alive. Am I supposed to thank the big, strong hero for rescuing the princess before the train hits her, or kick his ass for not telling her to look over her fucking shoulder?”

“Aziza—”

She backed away. “No. I don’t need you to fight my battles. I don’t need you to protect me from your father or Natalie or Razia, and I certainly don’t need you to protect me from Ram.” She shook her head. “You want to know something funny? That Jinn you’re already convinced is guilty has more faith in my abilities than you do.”

“Damn it, Aziza, you know that isn’t true. That isn’t why I didn’t tell you. I’ve always believed in you. Trusted you.”

“You don’t trust me.” She forced herself to speak past the tightening in her throat. “Not really. Maybe you can’t because of what I am. What your little dog said about my stink. All of them and none of them. Maybe we’re just fooling ourselves…”

His arms came up as if to reach for her, but he stopped himself. “No, Aziza. Don’t do this. This isn’t the time or place for us to say something we can’t take back. I won’t apologize for wanting to keep you safe, but this is the last thing I… We can fix this. I can fix this. And I will. That is another promise.”

Her cheeks were wet and she lifted one hand to wipe the moisture absently away. “So you’ll tell the Alpha I’ll meet him, do whatever he wants to let me in on this? That I want to know what his plan is for stopping these murders and I refuse to be kept in the dark?”

“I’ll handle it.” He walked over to his bike where it leaned against a nearby lamppost. “Please take a cab back to Penn’s straight away and call me if there is anything you need.”

She nodded, closing her eyes and focusing on time starting up again. She kept them closed even when Greg reached her side, not opening them again until the roar of Brandon’s motorcycle faded into the night.

Greg put his arm around her. “You okay, Aziza Jane?”

“No.” No, she really wasn’t.

“Where did Brandon go?”

She didn’t answer him, tilting her head back and looking up into the sky instead. “Te? Shev? If you can hear me… You suck. I don’t want to see either of you right now or I can’t be held responsible for my actions. Consider that a warning. And P-fucking-S. Don’t show up
ever again
unless you have something to contribute. Help me. Help me stop the Jiniyr, get me some useful information, protect Ram and the rest of the people I love…or fuck off.”

She buried her face in Greg’s chest and he held her tighter. “Oh boy, okay, I can see I’ve missed a lot. You used Mayet’s Witness again, didn’t you? Let’s get you back to Penn’s. We can talk about it there. We’ll figure out what to do together.”

But they wouldn’t. Penn, Greg…no one knew how to fix this any more than Aziza did.

The Jiniyr were back.

People were dying and Aziza felt like she was falling and couldn’t stop. That when she finally hit the ground, something impossible to replace might shatter.

Brandon was gone.

Chapter Three

It’s almost time. All you have to do is let go.

No.
If she let go she would fall.

Adrenaline made every muscle in Aziza’s taut, outstretched body tremble and her grip tighten instinctively on the silk fabric, the only thing keeping her from crashing to the floor far below.

Her mind was flooded by the memory of falling backward carelessly and plummeting from Penn’s roof with her arms wide. Though the world had gone black, before she realized it, Ram had saved her from crashing into the unforgiving ground.

He wouldn’t save her this time. He wouldn’t need to. Things were different now.
She
was different.

A small handful of people standing beneath her craned their necks, waiting in absolute silence to see what would happen next. They wouldn’t save her either, but she had their undivided attention.

Show them how to live. Let go…or I will.

Pushing away that disturbing thought, Aziza listened for the cue of the music through the pounding of blood in her ears. When she heard it, she relaxed her pose and let go of the silk. Her body dropped, twirling down, the floor rising up to meet her so swiftly that to the untrained eye it may have seemed accidental. But she was in complete control. That was the point. She wasn’t falling.
She
was in control.

Of this, if not her love life. If not of the Jinn or the Niyr or her emotions. Of this, if nothing else.

The silk that had been coiled purposefully around her waist was now held in both her hands as she swung her legs upward and wrapped the fabric around her ankles. The swaying rigging helped as she used her body’s weight and momentum to spin in a dizzying circle through the air.

Flying.

The music she’d brought to practice on the aerial silks—a club-style remix of “Come Josephine in My Flying Machine”—reminded her with every precise movement who she was. The vocals were haunting, the beat hard and invigorating.

Discordant.

It was how she felt. Just a little…off. Not completely herself. She was missing something.

Brandon.
She wavered on the silks before pushing him out of her mind.
The song. Focus on the song.

The tune from her nightmarish dreams had now become a sort of anthem, a melody meant to keep her mindful of what she’d done…what she’d been told she still needed to do. The more she listened to it, the more familiar it became. Not only from the dream, but from a childhood memory that remained frustratingly out of reach. Sometimes she saw flashes of laughter and her father’s smiling, bearded face, but nothing else.

She never forgot anything. Every word she’d heard spoken and every moment in her life was filed away and easily accessible in her mind. Even the memories she’d rather not keep—like the lifeless eyes of last night’s victim—would always be with her. So why was this apparently happy memory eluding her?

Her arms and legs straightened as they’d been trained to do, slowing her spin and pulling her body up with a strength she’d never had before, a strength that had only grown in the last few weeks, giving her this newfound agility.

Aziza pushed her legs back against the silks, her body curved and breasts jutting out like the busty carving on the prow of an ancient ship, her skin warm, more from excitement than exertion. Forgetting her pain and fear, she let herself fall forward once more, loving the momentary sensation of weightlessness as she did flip after perfectly controlled flip until she landed on the padded mat and the music came to an end.

Back on solid ground again, she sighed in disappointment.

The smattering of applause made her grin in spite of her dark mood, as her instructor, Anthony, left the others who’d been watching her and came to her side.

“Either I’m a miracle worker, which you are perfectly free to profess to anyone within hearing distance,” he said with the self-effacing British charm that was so much a part of his personality, “or you, Aziza Jane Stewart, are a prodigy. One week at your American school and not much more time here, and already you’ve given our seasoned performers some true competition. That was inspired. Are you quite sure you won’t join in this season’s student performance?”

Aziza laughed, placing her hand on his arm as she bent down to grab her towel and water bottle. “Thanks, Anthony, but I’d rather be in the audience than in the spotlight. It’s the best place to watch your show.”

Enough people, if she could even call them that, had her in their spotlight as it was. It made her twitch to think about how they’d all watched and known the truth—about Brandon, the murders and who knew what else—long before she did.

She shook her head and held on to her smile. “I’m grateful you were available for private lessons, with everything that’s on your plate. This is exactly what I’ve been needing. Especially today.”

She’d needed a distraction so she could stop climbing the walls at Penn’s and thinking about the dead girl’s eyes and Brandon’s betrayal. So she could stop remembering his heartbreaking expression and his lips on her skin. Greg and Penn had both encouraged her to come today, knowing she needed to work out some of her frustration before she lost what was left of her mind.

Unfortunately, even this wasn’t enough.

“I am glad of that.” Anthony cupped her shoulder in a friendly gesture before dropping his hand awkwardly. “Though my joy is tempered with the knowledge that my charm is not what it once was. Both you and your handsome friend have turned me down again.”

Handsome friend.
Her instructor was no more immune to Ram’s charms than anyone else in this city. He drew people to him like moths to a dangerous flame. From what little she’d seen, the Jinn had the market cornered in the sultry and breathtakingly beautiful department. And Ram was a prime example of his species, even without his powers.

“Ram was here today?” She looked around, attempting a casual air, as if she weren’t dying to see him. To warn him about the murders. To be near him. Usually she passed him on her way in or saw him watching her practice, but she hadn’t caught a glimpse of him yet this morning.