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Authors: Evi Asher

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BOOK: Burning Ember
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“And the Missus? Tell me about Mrs. Joe.” Scarlet gave him a real smile.

“Well, we’ve been married forty years this spring.”

He started to tell her about his life, and the trip to Glen Falls went past faster than she would have thought.

Joe rambled on amicably about his home, family, and farm. He was a natural storyteller, and by the time they pulled into the bus stop at Glen Falls, Scarlet was sorry she had to say goodbye to the old guy. “Okay, Miss Scarlet.” To her chagrin, the name had stuck and he’d been calling her that the whole way. “This is the bus depot. Are you sure you don’t want to take me up on the offer of a place to stay for the night? The Missus would be happy for the company.”

Scarlet had almost agreed when he’d made the offer, but she liked Joe, and she didn’t want to risk what had happened at the shelter.

“No, thank you, though I do appreciate it. I’m going to catch the first bus I can.” She opened the truck door with a loud creak and stepped out, hoisting her backpack over her shoulder. “Thanks for the ride.”

He touched the brim of his hat, and nodded his head. “Sure thing.”

She pushed the truck door closed with a creaky thump and stepped away.

Joe waved goodbye as he pulled away from the curb, and she returned the wave, feeling alone again. He’d been good conversation once she’d steered him away from asking questions about her past.

She looked up at the well-lit bus depot and breathed out a sigh. She did not intend to catch a bus, but it was a good enough place to pass the rest of the night. It was safer than the street, at least.

Scarlet climbed up onto the curb and pushed her way through the doors.

Looking around, she took in the small bus depot. There was no one around except for a sleepy looking clerk behind the iron-barred window of the ticket counter. He was reading something and she was sure he hadn’t even noticed her come in.

There were rows of wooden benches that looked like they were designed to be as uncomfortable as possible, along with two doors that led to the men and women’s rest rooms.

An old, abused vending machine took up one corner.

She found a bench in the other corner where her back was to the wall and pulled her backpack up. She put it between her head and the wall and leaned her head back, closing her eyes, hoping she could get some sleep.

 

Scarlet must have dozed off because she woke with a start to the sound of squealing tires and raucous laughter.

“Aw, come on J.D, there’s nothing to do at the bus station.”

“Shut up, Dwayne. Bill is working tonight and I want to have a talk with him about Sally.”

Scarlet strained to see out into the dark parking lot where three men were stepping up on the curb.

As they pushed through the door of the bus station, she felt a flicker of tension. The young men were in their early to mid-twenties, and not one of them were small.

What do they eat around here, super growth formula?
Scarlet asked herself as she prayed they wouldn’t notice her.

“Gees, JD, are you ever gonna get over Sally?”

It was the same voice as before and she saw it belonged to a tall blond man—he must be Dwayne.

His question was answered when one of the men grabbed him by the shirt and shoved him into the nearest wall.

“Don’t you even say her name, you asshole.” He lifted the obviously frightened Dwayne up higher, sliding his back up the wall.

“Um…su-sure thing,” Dwayne stammered his agreement.

Scarlet sank back farther in her chair and wished she could camouflage herself. She could smell alcohol from where she was sitting and she knew these men were trouble looking for a place to happen.

As if her thought had caught their attention, the third man looked over and noticed her sitting there.

“Well, aren’t you a pretty little thing.” His grin was lascivious. “Hey, guys quit your bickering. I found a new toy for us to play with.”

“What are you talking about, Pete?” J.D turned and noticed Scarlet. He let Dwayne slide down the wall. “Hello, baby.” He sauntered over to Scarlet. “Now we are going to have some fun.”

Scarlet looked at the clerk behind the bars. “What are you waiting for, call for help.”

J.D didn’t look at the barred ticket booth, but rather raised an arm and pointed in the clerk’s direction and threatened, “If you touch that phone, you will be shitting your teeth for a week.”

Bill, the clerk, dropped the phone he’d put to his ear and backed up to the back of the booth.

“Coward.” Scarlet muttered under her breath, then stood so she could face the threat.

It didn’t help much that she was only five-foot-three and all the men stood a foot taller than her.

J.D stepped in closer, invading Scarlet’s personal space. “So, baby, what do you say we go somewhere quiet and get to know each other?”

“I say, why don’t you go home and sleep it off, before you do something you will regret.”

Her answer had all three men laughing.

“Oh, baby, this isn’t something I haven’t done before, and I’ve never regretted it. So…” he reached out a hand, and wrapped it around her forearm.

Scarlet twisted her wrist pulling out of his grip. “
So,
go, and leave me alone. If you don’t, I
will
make you regret it.”

She was terrified, but she wasn’t going to show it, and there was no way she was going to let him take her anywhere. If they were going to try to rape her, they’d have to do it here.

“You’ve got spirit, baby, I like it, and you sure are a pretty little thing with those big blue eyes and all that long dark hair.”

He moved faster than she expected, grabbing her braid in the nape of her neck forcing her head back. Holding her there with one hand, he mashed his mouth down on hers with such force that her teeth cut her lip, and her mouth was flooded with the copper taste of blood.

She pushed at his chest with all her might, but he was like a brick wall, and there was no way she was going to move him unless he was cooperating.

He lifted his head. “See, I knew you’d like it.” He grinned down at her.

“Let go of me, now.” Her breaths were ragged with fear, and she was still trying to push him away, which made him tug harder at her braid, pulling the little hairs in the nape of her neck. Scarlet’s eyes watered from pain, and she started to get mad. “And look, such a nice set of tits.” He reached up with his other hand and squeezed Scarlet’s breast so hard it made her flinch.

She shifted her eyes to see if Bill had picked up the phone again, but he was still huddled in the back of the booth, not moving. “Help me, you coward!” she yelled at him as he shook his head from side to side, his eyes wide with fear.

J.D squeezed again and Scarlet hissed in pain.

“Wohooo, this one’s going to be fun,” Dwayne crowed, and high-fived Pete.

“I’ve got her after, JD.”

“No. You. Wont.” Scarlet felt pure fury burn through her veins, her helplessness, and terror adding to the feeling. Her skin started to feel hot as if she was running a fever and her eyes burned. She let out a pent-up breath, and the heat burning her body eased.

“What the—” Pete gasped.

The benches in the bus station terminal were on fire, huge leaping flames crawling across the floor toward the three men and Scarlet.

J.D let out a yelp of pain as his hands started to burn. “Oh, God, I’m on fire!” he screamed, letting go of Scarlet.

“Drop and roll,” Dwayne yelled out.

“Not in here, moron, the place is burning.” Pete grabbed J.D by the shirt and pulled him through the door as the other man screamed in agony.

Scarlet saw Bill scramble to unlock the door to the ticket booth. Seeing this, she decided it was time to get the hell out of there before the fire department and the cops arrived. She grabbed her backpack and dashed through the door. The boys were too busy trying to put out the flames burning on J.D to notice as Scarlet escaped into the night.

 

 

Chapter Three

 

 

The occasional dull thump of Dimitri destroying the safe room reached Archer’s office as he sat with the package delivered earlier that day. It was still unopened because he had a gut feeling who had sent it. All he had to do was expose the contents to prove himself right.

“No use waiting,” he muttered, and tore the paper covering the box.

The scent hit him hard, causing Archer’s beast to throw itself to the fore, his fingers piercing the cardboard of the package as his claws shot out.

What the fuck?

Archer forced his beast back into the recesses of his mind. “Simmer down, buddy.” He concentrated on shifting his hands to human form.

He pulled a piece of folded paper out of the box. Opening it, he could smell faint traces of Jasmine’s perfume, but the aroma of the package contents overwhelmed the floral of the fragrance.

 

Archer,

This is the only thing I can give you with Scarlet’s smell on it. The fire destroyed any other traces of it at the shelter. The uniform comes from her locker at the diner she was working at.

Sniff her out and bring her back, doggy.

J

 

Archer tossed the note on the desk with a muttered
bitch
and reached into the box.

His fingers closed around the material of the uniform and pulled it out of the package. Scarlet’s fragrance rocked him back into his chair, forcing him to tamp down his beast’s response again.

Archer held the material up and, without thinking, rubbed it against his face, burying himself in the scent. He felt the inane urge to roll around in the smell.

“Catnip for wolves.” He frowned, putting the green and navy uniform down on the desk.

“But there is no such thing. So why the big response?” he asked himself.

The door opened and Zane stuck his head in, one hand on the doorjamb, the other on the door handle.

“You were talking to me?”

“No, to myself.” Archer got up from behind the desk. He picked up the uniform and tore a swatch of fabric from it, stuffing it into the front pocket of his jeans.

“Before you go any further, I’ve been watching some interesting news footage online. Seems a bus depot was burned down in Glen Falls. The police are looking for a young woman who they’d like to question.”

Zane stepped into the room.

Archer walked to the door shaking his head. “Seems like our pyro’s been busy. I didn’t think she’d make it so easy to track her.”

“Yeah, burning buildings down is kind of a giveaway.” Zane moved out of the way as Archer passed him at the door.

“I’m not going to bitch about it—makes my job a lot easier.” Archer turned towards the supply room so he could get what he’d need for the operation.

“You aren’t leaving now, are you? It’s five A.M., and it’s going to be light soon,” Zane pointed out.

Archer glanced at Zane, lifting an eyebrow. “Yes, that’s usually how mornings work. At some point, the sun comes up.”

Zane rolled his eyes. “Yeah, but a tan doesn’t suit my pale goth-vampire look.”

Archer turned back and walked into the supply room. He picked up a nondescript black duffel bag from the corner, then ran his gaze along the long shelves that lined the walls.

Dimi had the Boy-Scout-like tendency to be prepared for anything, and it was something that had rubbed off on the rest of the group. So the supply room had everything and anything that could come in useful—provisions, weapons, and even a shelf of stacked spells and potions.

There was a large underground network of immortals ejected from their castes for one reason or another—something The Outsiders used to their advantage. There was very little they couldn’t get their hands on.

Archer walked to the first shelf and started to pack the duffel bag.

“Are you even going to answer me?” Zane asked as he trailed Archer.

Archer put a coil of rope into the bag. “Nope.”

“I thought I was going to be part of this mission.” Zane stepped between Archer and the shelf.

Archer turned to the opposite shelf. “You are, just not this part of it.”

“Oh, for f—”

“I need you to call Trinity and get me an anti-burn spell, and I need it before I leave.” Archer moved on to pack some rations in the bag, cutting off Zane’s cursing.

“Fine.” Zane left, and Archer hid a small smile. That had been easy, but only because Zane was attracted to the outcast witch. He’d use any excuse to talk to Trinity.

The witch liked Zane, but not the way Zane wanted. He’d never get anywhere with her. It didn’t stop him from talking to her every chance he got.

Archer continued packing the bag. He was confident he could find and retrieve the pyro. Bagged and hogtied if necessary, but he did not intend to hand the pyro over to Jasmine. He didn’t trust the fallen angel, and with good reason. He could have saved himself the argument last night if he’d told Dimi he wasn’t planning to give the pyro to Jasmine, but the rub of the confidence Dimi had broken was still raw. He’d let the chaos demon stew in his own obsession for a while.

Archer moved over to the weapons shelf and looked for one of his favorite weapons. He reached for the spine sheath and strapped it over his shoulders, then tested the draw of the Katana blade it held. He smiled as it slid free in one smooth motion.

He slid the blade back, then picked up a hidden wrist sheath with a small but deadly dagger in it.

Archer contemplated taking a semi-automatic pistol, but changed his mind at the last second. He picked up the sawed-off shotgun instead and grabbed a handful of rock-salt filled cartridges, shoving them into his pockets. He had learned long ago to go with his instincts, and they were screaming that he’d be facing more than a fire starter on this trip. So he wasn’t going to debate his need to take the shotgun, he’d just go with it.

“You are packing a bit heavy aren’t you? I mean you’re only going to retrieve one little pyro,” Zane said from the doorway.

“When was the last time you tangled with a pyro?” Archer bent to pick up the duffel then started walking towards the door.

BOOK: Burning Ember
4.05Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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