Burned (7 page)

I didn’t have to look long.

Jace.

He sat at a table. The flat light streaming from the windows shouldn’t have had the
strength to reach his form, let alone edge his frame. Yet there he sat, a dark god framed in silver, his gaze focused on an ornate chessboard.

From the tight posture of his opponent, the hunch of his shoulders, I guessed Jace was winning the game.

Figured.

Slowly Jace lifted his gaze. Dark eyes the color of wild mustangs, framed by long, thick black lashes. For a long—too-long—moment we stared at each other.

Jace, looking at me.

Into me.

Through me.

Just as slowly, he turned his focus back to the chessboard, effectively dismissing me in the deliberate movement.

Jerk.

“How do you want to play this?” I asked Raven as she came up beside me.

She grinned. “Bond him.”

I was hoping for something more Ravenish—like smashing his head against
the table or hanging him from a tall building by his toes. Blinking, I said, “Bond?”

“James Bond.” She lifted her shoulder. “Bond-girl him.”

“You think that’ll work?”

“He’s a guy, isn’t he?”

Too much of one for my taste. “Yeah, I guess.” I tried to keep my voice neutral.

“You go left, I’ll go right. Angel and devil. Got it?”

I frowned. “Like good girl, bad girl?”

She gave a sultry laugh. “More like bad Bond girl”—she jabbed her thumb in my direction—“and badder Bond girl.” She jerked both thumbs at herself.

I’d never been bad in my life.

Raven turned and moved through the crowd, flashing a smile at random guys, then grinning with satisfaction as they gaped at her.

I pivoted on my heel and hoped I could pull off bad—or at least do a satisfactory
job of “naughty.” C’mon, I told myself. I used to date, to flirt. There was a time I’d worn tight jeans and heels.

For Amanda and my family, I’d channel that girl, do what I needed, take the heat of Jace and suffer the burns sure to come.

I got to him at the same time as Raven.

She put her hand on his right shoulder.

I followed her lead and put mine on his left. The feel of him beneath my fingers zapped me with awareness, and the warmth of him made my body temperature rise.

If he cared, if he noticed, he didn’t show it. No happiness. No contempt. His indifference was as hard as the muscles under my hand.

Raven bent close to his ear.

Oh man.

The wood and spice of his cologne was already unhinging me. Now she wanted me to get closer?

I was going to lose my mind. Not enough to forget about justice for my family or Amanda, but enough for me to go from Bond girl smart to Valley girl stupid. He wasn’t a guy who’d respond to my flipping my hair and giggling.

Too bad.

That I remembered how to do.

Raven kept whispering in his ear, and my brain spun as it tried to come up with a plan.

Deciding to use the too-tight clothes to my advantage, I twisted to the side, popped a button, then faced forward and gave his opponent the brightest smile I could manage.

The kid stared, jerked back and blinked. Then he looked over his shoulder—probably checking to see it was really him I was aiming my pearly whites at.

I flipped my hair.

His eyes widened.

Under my hand, Jace remained motionless.

I leaned forward as though inspecting the board.

Every vertebra in the kid’s neck popped as he strained to see down my shirt.

He couldn’t, of course, but it was the idea that had him fixated.

Jace didn’t turn his head, didn’t move his gaze from the chess pieces.

I bent forward.

The kid’s face went slack, and he took his hand off the chess piece he was holding.

Judging from the crowd’s gasp, he’d just done something super stupid.

I pushed my mouth close to Jace. Still focused on the kid, I misjudged where Jace began and I ended. My mouth brushed the cartilage of his ear.

The kid gave a small groan.

I stifled mine and ignored the tremor of excitement that thrummed through me at my accidental kiss. “See?” I whispered to Jace. “I can help you if you help me.”

That got a response.

His irritation zapped me as hot and fast as a lightning strike.

Man, seriously? Great. Between him,
ATM
Guy and Raven, I was surrounded by a bunch of lone wolves who’d rather bay at the moon than hunt together.

“Please, Jace—” I stopped, hearing the begging tone scratching at my voice box. “The one I look out for, my
ATM
kid—Amanda—she wouldn’t just disappear.”

He ignored me and pushed a piece across the board.

The crowd murmured its approval.

I thought of him at the park bench, the moment I thought we’d had, and I realized how totally stupid I’d been. Out for himself and screw the rest of us. It had never been about him helping me. It was just about him proving he could pull one over on a pimp. Anger simmered, bubbled.

What a loser I’d been.

And suddenly I was sick of playing Bond girl when my friend was missing,
tired of pretending I belonged with these rich kids when my home was a box beside a garbage dump, and I was done with Jace and the effect he had on me.

I pushed my mouth close to his ear, not caring about the spark or the excited kick in my stomach. Told myself to forget about it. Feelings were nothing but chemicals anyway, and I’d spent a lifetime drug-free. I wasn’t going to be addicted to this guy.

Ever.

And if I couldn’t wow him, then I’d scare him. “Help me.”

Nothing.

“Here’s the thing. Your buddy?
ATM
Guy? He has a nasty habit of hacking the
ATM
machine at Tron’s grocery store and helping himself to the cash.”

Jace’s muscles twitched.

Finally. I had his attention.

“I’ve got it on video,” I said, hating myself for threatening but not caring if it meant finding Amanda. “You help me, or
I turn my video over to the cops.” I paused to let my words sink in. “How long do you think your friend will last in juvie?”

Another pause.

“If my friend falls,” I hissed, “she won’t fall alone.” I leaned closer, until I knew he could feel every move of my mouth against his skin. “Help me, or I will burn your friend.”

THIRTEEN

Jace had been furious, but he’d agreed to help and hold some stuff for me. I knew I’d pay—the look in his eyes had said as much. His retribution for my blackmail would be hard and swift. But I didn’t care—couldn’t care. Not with Amanda on the line and the chance to bring Meena to justice finally, finally within my grasp.

Another hour, and it would all be over.

ATM
Guy’s name turned out to be Bentley, and we—Jace, Bentley, Raven and I—agreed to meet at one of her favorite parkades on Robson Street. The concrete would block the signal from
the laptop, and the busy nightlife of downtown would give us protection and decoys if anything went wrong. From here, Bentley would hack the laptop and upload the files to the Internet. Meena’s life would be over.

That’s what they thought.

I had a different plan. Just because I needed their help didn’t mean I was willing to put them in danger.

On the corner of Burrard and West Georgia, I stopped and waited for the light to give me the go-ahead to cross the street. A gust of wind blew past. My skin tingled, and my sixth sense kicked into gear.

On cue, a black
SUV
, its metal shining under the streetlights, screeched to a stop. The back door flew open, and Eagle Man from a few nights earlier exploded from his seat. I shoved my arm into the other strap of my bag, twisted and ran. No way was I going to dash into traffic and risk damaging the computer. I pounded down the sidewalk, headed for Thurlow Street.

No point in yelling for help.

People dodged out of my way and almost broke bones as they dived out of his. I tried for a hard right on the corner, but Eagle Man had a long reach. He snatched me by the back of my neck.

“Didn’t think you’d get away, did you, little man?”

He dragged me to the corner where the
SUV
waited. Wrenching the book bag off my back, he twisted my hands behind me and zip-tied them together. Then he shoved me inside. I edged to the door, tried to get out, but the child safety lock was on. He and his partner didn’t talk to me as we drove through the streets and entered a parkade. We went down a couple of levels, and then the driver pulled to a stop next to a dark sedan.

Through the tinted windows of my prison, I saw Meena step from the car.

Eagle Man opened my door, dragged me out and handed her the laptop.

“Ditch the
SUV
,” she said, her voice echoing through the empty lot. She shoved the bag onto the passenger seat of her car. “The owners have already reported the theft.” Her gaze flicked to the vehicle. “Older model, no
GPS
or tracking…still, dump it.”

Eagle Man nodded at his driver, who gunned the engine and disappeared up the ramp.

Meena turned my way, then dismissed me with a glance. “Get him inside,” she said as she climbed into the sedan.

Eagle Man did as ordered, and I upped her evil cred. Whatever she did, she must be Big Bad if a Vëllazëri soldier took orders from her.

“You’re stupid,” she said as she started the engine and put the car in gear.

I shifted to the spot behind her seat. “Whaddya figure, Tiny?” I directed my comment to Eagle Man. “She talking to you or me?”

He didn’t say anything.

“So, both deaf and dumb,” I said.

“Don’t be smart.” Meena was smug. “You can’t comprehend the kind of trouble you’re in.”

I laughed. “You don’t know the kind of trouble you’re in.” Arrogance had made her stupid. Two years since she’d seen me. I’d lost weight, grown out my hair, but she should have been able to recognize me. She didn’t, and it pissed me off. Rocking back, I set my feet on the back of her seat, pulled back and kicked. Hard.

Bad move.

The action lit the match on the dry tinder of my rage. Fury burned through me, lit me up. The scene in front of me became a red blur in my vision as I kicked and kicked, trying to push her seat through the windshield.

If she yelled, if the car stopped or sped up, I didn’t know. The jolt of a Taser
wrenched me back to the present. It set fire to my nerves, made my teeth vibrate and spiked pain so intense I felt it in my gums. I collapsed back, panting.

Meena was by the open door, the weapon in her hand, glaring at me.

Eagle Man remained in the front passenger seat.

“Don’t mess with me, kid,” she sneered. “I know everything, and you’re an idiot. You never should have gone back to Vincent’s apartment. Been tracking you ever since. I know everything.” She bent forward and grabbed me by the hair to yank me upright.

My wig came off.

She yelped, dropped it and stared at me.

“Guess you don’t know everything, do you?” I spun and rocked back, then, using my feet, drove all my weight and rage into her stomach. As she grunted in pain and fell away, I pulled my legs close
and swung my bound arms under my hips and around my feet. Then I used her as a jumping board, stepped on her and took off running.

FOURTEEN

Between the adrenaline in my system and the rage, I felt no pain. My legs weren’t even rubbery. I ran for the ramp. Behind me, Meena yelled. Her words echoed off the cement.

A sharp, blinding pain hit my shoulders. The Taser. Another jolt of electricity ran through me. Something hard and heavy smashed my legs, took me off my feet. I fell, rolled, and the pulse in my back became a raging fire.

I didn’t scream. Didn’t cry.

Meena’s steps rapped against the concrete, joined by the muted thud of her goon’s. He grabbed and hauled me up,
then dragged me back to the car. Meena followed and zip-tied my feet together. “I know you hurt,” she said, “but don’t worry. You won’t be in pain for long.”

Eagle Man pushed me into the backseat, rounded on Meena and slapped her. Hard.

She gasped at the sting and cried out when he hit her again.

So he wasn’t working for her. She was working for him.

“Do it again,” I said. “She doesn’t seem like a fast learner.”

Eagle Man’s large hand went around my jaw and squeezed my cheeks tight. “Enjoy your joke, little girl,” he said in a quiet, high voice. “You won’t laugh for long.” He shoved me back and turned to Meena. “Fix this. Now.”

She didn’t answer. She didn’t need to—the terror in her face gave him all the response he wanted.

Eagle Man moved to his seat and slammed the door shut.

Meena gave me a hateful glare and rubbed her cheek.

“Don’t be mad at me,” I said. “Not my fault you can’t do your job.” I laughed, partly from the buzz of the pain, mostly because I knew that no matter what happened to me, my family was about to get justice.

She threw herself into the driver’s seat and pulled out of the lot. “You’ve been a real pain. Two years of searching for you.” She shifted. “Thought I was dead when I saw that video of the house fire go live. Wondered who had posted it. But when you didn’t come forward”—Meena twisted around to look at me—“I figured you had your reasons for staying quiet.” She gave me a triumphant smile. “Figured it was a matter of getting to you before anyone else did. And now I’ve got you.”

I bared my teeth. “It’s nice to be wanted.”

“Some punk kid. This a gang thing? You trying to get in with one of the
Vëllazëri rival gangs?” She stopped at the exit of the parkade, checked for cars, then took off. “Who’s initiating you?”

I looked out the window, orienting myself to where we were going. Clear night, with the car heading down Howe Street, toward the water. “You.”

In the rearview mirror, her gaze flicked my way, then went back to the road. “What?”

“You initiated me, Meena.”

At my using her name, she jerked the steering wheel. Her panicked gaze met Eagle Man’s deadly stare.