Burning Ember (10 page)

His words apparently didn’t help. She made a sound of anger and spun, leaving the reception and going down the passage to her room.

Archer shook his head. He could understand that she needed some time to think, so he let her have her storm-off exit. At least she wasn’t leaving, because there was no way his beast would allow her to get away.

Archer was on one of the lower floors of The Outsiders building. The whole floor was dedicated to the vast collection of tomes and books they had collected on every breed and caste of the Eternal.

He sat at one of the reading desks in the yellow pool of light from the reading lamp, his dark head bent over an ancient leather-bound book.

Archer was searching for any information he could find on pyros—anything that could help him teach Scarlet how to control her fire. If he couldn’t do that, she’d be doomed to a horrible death, and he would hold himself responsible.

Cold fear settled in the pit of his stomach, making the words in front of his eyes blur for a moment.

Why should it matter if she died? He wasn’t a sociopath. He wouldn’t like her death to be on his conscience, but why did the idea of her dying make him feel fear?

She’s ours.
His beast decided to weigh in on the thought process.

“Oh, shut up if you can’t say anything useful,” Archer snapped out loud.

Archer shook his head and continued reading the passage he’d been reading.

If unable to gain control of their ability, Pyros will be incinerated in the heat of flame. To this date, there are no cases of surviving Pyros.

~See also Phoenix.

“What has a myth about a burning bird got to do with real Eternal?” Archer slammed the book closed. “Nonsense.”

He pushed back his chair and reached for the book to put it back in the shelf. He looked up focusing on the red flashing light that had caught his peripheral vision. “Oh, shit.” He dropped the book and sprinted out of the library. The light was the panic light from reception. It would flash in all the rooms of the building.

It was a 911 from Zane. There was something up there he couldn’t deal with on his own.

Archer slowed as he reached reception. He didn’t want to go barreling into a situation that might get Zane killed. He allowed his claws and fangs to lengthen, leaning on his beast for extra strength and speed. In truth, it was too close to the full moon to deny the wolf that resided in his skin with him.

He put his back to the wall and tilted his head around the edge so he could assess the situation. What he saw made him shake his head and walk around the corner.

“Put him down, or I’ll shred you.”

Jasmine had Zane up against the wall, her hand clamped around his throat. Zane hung there looking down at Jasmine. He looked bored more than scared.

“He pushed a button to call Dimitri when I came in,” she hissed and tightened her grip.

“He called me. Dimi is out. Put him down, and that’s the last time I’m asking.” Archer’s voice came out in a low growl.

She dropped Zane without so much as a blink and turned to face Archer. She dusted off her hands as if she’d touched something dirty.

“You should have ripped her to pieces, Zane.” Archer turned and glared at Jasmine.

“I thought I’d leave the pleasure to you,” Zane answered in a dark tone, and went back to his place at the reception desk.

“What do you want? Tell me and get the hell out of
Outsiders Inc.
You know you aren’t welcome here.”

“I’ve come for what’s mine.” She threw her shoulders back.

Archer laughed at her before he spoke, “You’ve lost nothing here—go back to the cesspool you swam out of.”

“I want the pyro, Archer, and I will take her by force if necessary.”

“Really?” Scarlet’s sardonic tone made everyone turn to her as she entered reception from the tunnel. “What makes you think you have the right to take me by force?” Her face was flushed, and Archer could feel the heat radiating off her skin from five feet away.

“Calm down,
Belan.
” Archer’s tone was gentle. He didn’t want to aggravate the situation further.

Jasmine stepped back. Archer suspected she’d felt the heat coming off Scarlet’s skin, too.

Scarlet squinted at Jasmine for a moment. “Wings.”

That one word was filled with such disgust that Archer had to wonder what made her so upset about wings.

She moved with speed Archer hadn’t suspected she possessed, and before he could stop her, she had a hand clamped around Jasmine’s wrist.

The fallen angel flinched, and Zane stepped back as the smell of burning skin filled reception.

Archer held his ground. “Let her go, Scarlet, before you do something you can’t control.”

“Like set her on fire.” Scarlet was furious, her eyes glowing with emotion.

“Yes, like that,” he agreed, treating her like someone intoxicated, and in a way, she was. She was intoxicated on power, and she was angry.

“I’ve had enough of all of this—angels threatening my life left and right and then trying to take me like some type of possession.” She squeezed Jasmine’s wrist tighter. “Listen well, bitch… I’ve looked after myself my whole life. No one has ever owned me, and I’m not going to change that trend to suit you. So go deep-fry your feathers, or I’ll do it for you.” She let go of Jasmine’s wrist and shoved her back.

The fallen angel stumbled, but caught her balance.

“This is not over,” she promised Scarlet and Archer.

“Run along, before I turn you into cocoa marshmallow,” Scarlet sneered.

Jasmine ducked into the freight elevator and hit the button, her face pale. She slammed the grating down, and the elevator disappeared down the shaft as they watched.

Chapter Nine

Slow applause started behind them, and Scarlet spun around, looking for someone else to blister with her anger.

“That was impressive. I’m glad to see Jasmine had some of her feathers plucked.” Poe was standing just inside reception. He’d come in from the tunnels, and must have made it just in time to witness Scarlet’s temper tantrum. “Or was that deep fried” he smiled. “Fierce, and I like a fierce woman.” He gave Scarlet an up-and-down look that had Archer stepping forward.

“Calm down, puppy. Just looking, I won’t touch your precious project.”

The word
project
sent Scarlet’s temper spiking for a second time in a matter of moments. “I want some answers now.” She clenched her hands into fists at her side. They felt sun-burnt and hot, her palms itching as if she’d had them in scalding water too long. “Project—explain why you used that word.”

Archer gapped as if words wouldn’t pass his lips, and Zane made a show of shrugging to indicate he didn’t know.

Scarlet’s eyes found Poe, and he shrugged.

“The puppy—when he was a puppy—had a dream, or vision, about a pyro…
you
.” Poe gestured at her.

“Me, specifically?” She turned her gaze to Archer.

He shook his head. “No. I never saw her face, but I felt her flames.” He shuddered, as if the vision still caused him pain of some kind.

“And you know it was a she?”

“Yes, I do,” Archer answered.

Scarlet put her hands on her hips. “Tell me about this vision.”

He ran his hand through his hair, and Scarlet could see he was having an inner debate to decide if he was going to tell them.

Poe stood with a smile on his lips, as if he was enjoying watching Archer squirm. “Yes, Archer, tell us all.”

Archer looked at Poe as if he wanted to strangle the vampire.

“Come.” He didn’t look behind him as he led the way to the common sitting room. He walked into the room, passing the couches, and began to pace in front of the shuttered windows.

Scarlet followed him into the room and looked around. She hadn’t been in here yet, and it was surprising how nicely it was decorated, but then
her
room was beautiful, too. Someone had expensive taste.

This room was modern, but at the same time, it had a classic elegance. The couches looked comfortable, the dark fabric that covered them looked like suede and, there was a mock fire place, ultra-modern with glass panels, and a burning log separating the room into two spaces. One was just a sitting area with a few couches and an arm chair, but in the other was a flat screen T.V, overstuffed couches and a shelf filled with DVDs.

Archer had moved into the section with couches arranged to face each other, so Scarlet went and sat on one. She gave Poe a look that promised pain when he tried to sit down next to her.

He just gave her a naughty grin, and moved to the other couch as Zane came in and sat down on the arm chair.

Poe reclined on the couch his arms stretched over the back. “Who is watching the reception?”

Zane sat and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees as he tracked Archer’s pacing. “It’s being manned by the answering machine.”

They waited in silence after that in order for Archer to compose his thoughts and start to talk.

Archer spoke and Scarlet sat straighter. This was somehow connected to her, and she wanted to know what was going on. “I was young.”

Her life was a madhouse at the moment. She kept expecting men in white coats with a straight jacket to come and fetch her, so she was hoping that this would give at least one piece of the puzzle.

“Still considered a cub—nineteen years old, it was a long time ago…”

He seemed to be stalling, and Scarlet wasn’t going to let him get away with it for long.

Poe must have had the same thought because he said, “Get to the vision, would you.”

Archer stopped and glared at Poe for a moment. “Shut up Poe, or get out.”

Poe raised his hands in surrender, then put his index finger to his lips.

“Good.” Archer started pacing again. “I was nineteen, I was trying to find
The Accord
with my beast.” He glanced at Scarlet and offered an explanation. “It’s a process, a mental and spiritual journey that every Lycan and Therin born must take.”

“Born?” Scarlet tilted her head.

“Both of my parents were Lycan, so I was born with my beast.”

Scarlet’s brow creased in a small frown. “But I thought you got attacked by a werewolf to become one.”

“Yes, that is possible, and it’s how the majority of Lycans are created, but there are pure Lycans who are born, and there are pure Therins who are born.”

Scarlett sat forward. “What about bitten Lycans and Therins—do they have to do the whole
Accord
thing?”

“No, a created Lycan or Therin has to reach
The Truce.
” he explained. “It’s a far more violent connection, because it’s unnatural.”

“This is all fascinating, but can we get back to the vision?” Poe asked with a yawn.

Archer glared at him, but when he spoke again, he spoke of the vision. “I was running in the forest on a full moon. I’d run all night communing with my beast reaching The
Accord
, and near dawn I collapsed, exhausted, in the hollow of an old lightning struck tree. I curled up there, convinced it was a good place to sleep off the fatigue.

Scarlet watched Archer closely, and she could see in her mind’s eye the images he was creating with his words.

“I slept deeply, and I dreamt,” he continued in a hushed voice. “She was calling me, calling for help, and I had to reach her. Her voice lured me like a siren’s call. The need to reach her was so overpowering that I couldn’t do anything but run, so that is what I did.” His voice fell to a quiet hush.

“I ran in my dream, like I’d never run before, and my speed and agility increased exponentially as I ran farther.”

“The moon was full, fat and bright.” Archer looked up as if he was back in his dream world, seeing the full moon again. “Igniting the air that was moved by my speeding form, but without warning, the moon dulled compared to the flames in the clearing ahead of me.” His head snapped forward, and his eyes glowed with something that made Scarlet shiver.

“They were brighter than the sun” Archer stared into space as if he was seeing the flames, experiencing it all again.

Scarlet moved to the edge of her chair, almost scared to breathe in case she broke the spell of his words.

“I stopped, shielding my eyes, but I couldn’t stand still long. I had to move forward, her cries for help were still calling me, and I was incapable of ignoring them.” His voice stayed hushed but intense.

“Her hand reached through the flames, and she called me by my name, pleading for me to help her. I reached for her, but as my fingers touched hers, her fingers turned to ash and sifted to the ground, not touched by the blast of wind the fire created.” Archer’s voice dropped lower, agony aching through his tone as he spoke. “I woke with her voice still in my ears and the need to find her riding me hard. I searched that forest for two days, and in the end, I had to give up and admit it had only been a vision. The woman wasn’t real.” His blue eyes lifted and locked on Scarlet.

“But I know this—she was a pyro who died in her own flames, and I will do anything to stop something like that from happening again.”

There was silence in the room. No one knew what to say to that. Zane was the one who broke the silence. “Damn, Archer, that must have been a seriously intense vision.”

Archer nodded, not answering, his eyes still locked on Scarlet. “Can you understand now why you are going to get my help, whether you want it or not?

“Yes…” Scarlet cleared her throat. “I understand.”

“Good.” Archer relaxed and moved to sit on the couch near Scarlet.

“It’s your turn to divvy some info, Poe. What did you find out?”

Poe raised his brow. “We finally get to hear the story of your vision, and now you want to ruin it by getting all anticlimactic?”

“We need the information you got, so stop being evasive and give it up,” Archer grumbled.

“First, let me say, any debt I owed you is paid, in fact you owe me now.” Poe stood and unbuttoned the front of his shirt then parted the halves.

Scarlet gasped. His sculpted chest was covered in bite marks. “What happened to you?”