Cursed by Fire (Blood & Magic Book 1) (5 page)

I tilted my head from left to right in an effort to loosen my muscles, popping my neck in the process.

“You going soft on me?” I asked, when James remained silent. “If you’re too tired I understand, maybe you should go back to bed and I can pick you up around noon. I know how you like your beauty sleep. Like I said, the Blackmores aren’t going anywhere.”

I was goading him, which wasn’t the smartest thing to do to a werewolf but despite my vigorous workout, my nightmare still weighed heavily on me and I needed an outlet.

Taking one last swig from my water bottle I rose from my seat and walked towards him, stopping just inches away, an arrogant lift to my lips.

“Terms?” I asked.

James rolled his shoulders and turned his head from side to side.

“Up to you,” he said.

Yes!
I knew he wouldn’t pass this up.

“No weapons, no claws.”

“Ah, you’re no fun.”

I shrugged, unconcerned. While a sword against James was almost a necessity, it would give him the advantage of shifting and I was definitely not up for James in his wolf or warrior form. His warrior form was a mix between human and wolf, a daunting and ridiculously formidable sight. Being a shifter alone would give James a huge advantage in the strength department but at least in his human form, he was less likely to tear me in two.

“No fire then,” James added.

That was fine by me. I wouldn’t risk lighting anything up in an indoor space anyway. The ache between my shoulder blades was making me stiff. I inhaled deeply, exhaling through my nose in an effort to realign myself and push the slight pain out of my consciousness. Pulling in several more deep breaths, James and I faced off against one another, both waiting for the other to strike first.

James’ patience ran out first after a short four minutes and he lunged, arms outstretched as he reached to grab hold of my shoulders. Twisting to the left, I sidestepped his reach while jamming an elbow deep into the center of his back before quickly stepping out of reach once again.

James turned and liquid silver filled his gaze.

The wolf was coming out to play. This could get interesting.

I grinned and gave him a
come and get me
wave. James let out a bark of laughter before lunging again, this time coming in low, aiming for my stomach. I launched myself into the air narrowly missing his attack and threw myself over him, rolling to my feet once my body hit the mat, but I wasn’t fast enough. As soon as my feet touched the mat, my body was propelled backward as James tossed me over his shoulder.

Tucking in my knees and allowing the momentum to turn me in the right direction, my body landed in a steady crouch several feet away from him.

I heaved out a breath and swept the hair that had escaped my braid out of my face. The ache between my shoulders quickly blossomed into a full on throbbing sensation. I was having a difficult time ignoring it. Standing up slowly, I paced to my right, watching James through narrowed eyes as he did the same.

This time, my attack came and I faked a punch to his left flank before changing direction at the last possible second and striking him in the midsection. My knuckles popped and cracked as they met the hard steel of his abdomen, but I ignored the slight pain and landed a left hook to his jaw.

His head snapped back but only for a second before he was on me, his full weight holding me down against the firm mat. Arching my back and attempting to twist to my left in an effort to dislodge him, he held firm. After squirming for several seconds, I finally caved and looked up into his eyes. They were liquid silver now, a beautiful metallic quality much like mercury.

James had a wolfish grin on his face.

“What are you so damn happy about?”

“I won.”

I heaved as my lungs struggled for air under his weight. “You did not win,” I gritted out. “This isn’t over.”

“Oh sweetheart, it’s over.” He settled his weight more firmly against me.

My chest was on fire, my struggles picking back up, in an attempt to escape. It felt like a truck was parked on my lungs.

James seemed oblivious to my struggles until I heard him cough, his grip on my arms tightening.

“Um hey, Aria, you might want to stop doing that,” he said. His voice took on an unusual husky quality.

I ignored him and continued my struggle.

“You so did not win.” Defeat was not an option.

“Ari, seriously, you need to…stop,” he said on a growl, and that’s when I felt his hard length against my lower stomach.

Shit!
I froze.

“Really James?!”

“Hey, I’m a guy, you can only expect so much from me.”

He grinned and I had the sudden urge to smack him upside the head. If only I could get my arm free.

“You going to get off of me?” I asked, rolling my eyes at his pleased expression.

In one fluid movement, James was off me, standing several feet away. I made to smooth out the non-existent wrinkles in my shirt and readjusted my braid before standing up. Going for casual.

“Umm, you ready to get moving?” I asked, avoiding eye contact.

James began to laughing, causing me to jerk my head in his direction.

“God, Ari, you are such a prude.”

“I am not!” I snapped.

Still rocking his shit-eating grin he rolled his eyes. “Yeah, whatever you say. Why don’t you go shower while I clean up here. Or better yet, I could join you.”

My mouth hung wide open, was he kidding? He had to be kidding.

James folded over and holding his stomach, began laughing so hard tears leaked from his eyes. “God if you could see the look on your face,” he said between gasping breaths.

I walked towards the locker room, seeming to ignore him as I passed by. When I was only inches away, I gripped his bicep and bending my knees, pulled him over my shoulder as I tucked my body in. James sailed through the air and having been caught off guard, landed in an ungraceful heap a few feet away.

He turned to me, a shocked smile on his face. “You fight dirty.”

I continued on my way. “I’m not a prude.”

James chuckled, “Whatever you say, Ari. Whatever you say.”

A
fter a quick shower in the gym locker room, I was grateful I’d decided to wear layers since I hadn’t thought to bring a change of clothes. Throwing my sweat soaked under tank into the empty locker that was reserved for me at the gym, I threw my black cotton tee back on over my sports bra. Dressed and with my hair freshly plaited I made my exit and waited for James by the gym’s front doors.

Playing with the leather bracelet around my wrist I wracked my brain over James’ comment earlier. I wasn’t a prude, despite what he may think. He just happened to be like family and feeling him hard between my thighs was just…
weird.

It didn’t help that I’d been experiencing a two-year-long dry spell. One I had no interest in rectifying.

Don’t get me wrong, James was practically sex on a stick and he could easily walk into a bar and walk right back out with any girl of his choosing, but he was also like family. Aside from Mike, James was my next go to person. I looked at him like a brother, albeit a hot brother, but a brother nonetheless. Maybe more like a step-brother. So I wasn’t a prude, I just wasn’t into crossing boundaries and James and I certainly had lines that should not be crossed. His friendship would never be something I’d risk so carelessly and relationships were something I considered fleeting.

I was just about to head outside for some fresh air when a hand touched my shoulder, causing me to practically jump out of my skin.

I turned with a dagger raised before realizing it was only James.

Shit!

“You have got to stop sneaking up on me,” I said, putting my dagger away and swatting him on the shoulder with my free hand. “You know I’m always jumpy after a spar session.”

James quirked a brow before reaching around me and opening the front door.

“You ready to get going?” he asked, sporting a wide grin on his face.

Jerk.

He really needed to get a hobby—one that didn’t include scaring the hell out of me. I followed him outside in response and let him lead the way to his Mustang. Climbing in when I heard the distinct click of the doors being unlocked, I threw on my seatbelt and let myself sink into the leather seats.

We rode in silence to the Blackmore residence. I was too exhausted from our sparring session to make any conversation. Fifteen long minutes later we pulled up to a charming three-story townhouse. James left the engine running for a few moments while we each surveyed the neighborhood through the car windows. The home was beautifully landscaped and it appeared to be your typical Veradale home, narrow and tall. All of its features screamed expensive. All the way from the slate, stone pathways to the detailed wood molding around the windows. Each feature was meticulous and elegant.

I climbed out of the car and walked up the stone pathway leading to the front door. Before I could knock, the door opened and a tall woman dressed in a sleek green, knee-length dress stood before me. Her hair was impeccable, styled in a fall of curls down her right shoulder. She had large gemstones adorning her ears and her makeup was flawless against her pale complexion.

“Mrs. Blackmore,” I said.

“Yes?”

“We’re sorry to bother you,” I said in way of greeting, “but we’d like to speak with you some more about Daniel’s disappearance and subsequent death.” Footsteps sounded from inside the house leading towards the front door. Jessica Blackmore looked over her shoulder as a small frown creased her brow.

“I’m sorry but this isn’t really a good time. We were just on our way out…” she trailed off as a middle-aged man stepped up beside her.

“Jessica who is it?” he asked.

“It’s the investigator that was working on Daniel’s case. Ms. Ummm…what was your name again?” she asked, turning back towards me.

“Aria. Aria Naveed.” Obviously I hadn’t made much of an impression on her. Maybe I needed to get myself a Boss 302 mustang so I could be seen and remembered as well.

“It’s Ms. Naveed,” she told her husband, as if he hadn’t already heard.

“Why is she here?” he asked.

Not wanting Mrs. Blackmore to continue playing middleman, I focused my attention on Patrick Blackmore and answered him directly.

“I’m here to discuss the circumstances surrounding Daniel’s abduction and murder.”

“Why? It’s over. Done with,” he said in a gruff voice as he adjusted the burgundy tie around his thick neck.

For some reason, I disliked him on sight. He had sleaze ball written all over him and I wasn’t particularly fond of the way he kept eyeing me up and down like some piece of meat.

“No, Mr. Blackmore, it isn’t over,” James said from behind me. He took a menacing step forward, his tone laced with steel.

I made sure to keep a bland expression on my face as Mr. and Mrs. Blackmore studied James over my shoulder. I could tell that neither one of them knew who or what he was. If they did, their expressions would have changed from annoyance to apprehension at the very least.

I was surprised by their reaction to my visit though. They had just lost a child. Less than two weeks had gone by since Daniel’s disappearance and news of his death only brought to their attention a handful of days ago, yet the two of them looked as if they were going out to celebrate. These weren’t the grieving parents I’d expected to meet with this afternoon. I knew they were working on moving on but the complete lack of emotion was off-putting to say the least

“We’re the parents and we decided that this case was over,” Mr. Blackmore bit out, his patience visibly running out. “Your services are no longer needed.”

James grinned. It was a feral smile full of teeth. The kind of smile most would consider friendly but I knew better. This was the smile James showed people before he smashed their heads into pool tables and bruised every inch of their bodies. I’d seen it a few times over the past few months and it never ended well for the other guy.

“Mr. Blackmore, allow me to introduce myself. My name is James Shields.”

I could tell that Patrick Blackmore still had no idea who he was but knew Jessica did. As soon as James said his name, her skin grew even paler, taking on an almost gray quality. The pulse point in her throat drummed rapidly beneath her skin, her hands clenching and unclenching in an anxious gesture. One she was likely unaware of. She’d been with Eric Delaney long enough to likely have learned the who’s who within the Pack.

“I don’t care who you are—” Patrick said before his wife interrupted him.

“Patrick, please,” she placed a hand on his folded forearm. He looked down at her in irritation and I could tell he was about to brush her off so I decided to jump in before he jammed his foot into his mouth further than he already had.

“Mr. Blackmore, I believe that your wife is trying to warn you, because unlike you, she realizes the significance of Mr. Shields’ presence. James here is a member of the Pacific Northwest Pack. He is here on official Pack business and as I am sure you are well aware, Daniel Blackmore was a shifter, a tidbit of information the two of you failed to provide early on, which means the Pack has every right to investigate his murder and you sir, would do best to cooperate. I assure you that it’s in your best interest.”

I hadn’t known that Mrs. Blackmore could go any paler, but she did. Her skin had taken on an ashen quality and I made a mental note to watch her for any further reactions. There was something very wrong about these two.

Patrick seemed to digest my words and I could tell he was fuming but he made the smart choice and opened the door wider, letting us in. Looking over my shoulder I gave James a feral grin of my own. See, I could play nice. Sort of.

I at least got points for getting them to let us in without having to pull out one of my daggers. James once again sidestepped around me and took the lead. I was slowly growing used to his irrational form of chivalry so I followed him in without comment. Mr. and Mrs. Blackmore led us into a room directly to the right of the entryway. It was a small sitting room with thick carpets and heavy draperies. Everything in the room was refined and of quality material. My hands itched around all of the finery and I had to fight myself from running my hands over the arm of the sofa I was seated in, luxuriating in its soft texture. While another irrational part of me fought not to light the damn thing on fire. Funny how conflicted I felt over fabric.

Once everyone was seated, we all stared at one another in silence. I honestly had no idea where to begin. These weren’t the people I was expecting to speak with. When I’d spoken with Mrs. Blackmore before, she had been a distraught mother searching for her only son. She had tear tracks down her face and bruises beneath her eyes hinting at a lack of sleep, but now, now she looked better than ever. I couldn’t wrap my head around the sudden change in her appearance.

I’d never met with Mr. Blackmore, so in his case, I hadn’t known what to expect. But a man who easily had ten years on his wife with greasy hair and a thick mid-section was not what I would have pictured for Jessica’s husband. She was beautiful in a classic way. After meeting the two together though, I figured it was safe to assume that she had married for money. Times were rough. The Awakening had completely collapsed the economy so wealth and even comfort were hard to come by for most. Jessica seemed the type that wanted to be taken care of.

After several moments in silence James finally spoke.

“Did either of you have anything to do with your son’s death?”

I raised my brows in surprise. I was thinking along the same track but hadn’t anticipated him actually voicing the question. Nonetheless, I eyed both parties for any hint of a response.

“Of course not!” Patrick said. His voice rose in outrage.

“No, I would never,” Jessica said in a more subdued tone.

James inhaled a deep breath through his nose, and tilted his head to the side. He appeared lost in thought for a moment. Jessica twisted her hands nervously in her lap. Patrick’s face was red with rage. He was on the verge of exploding and holding onto his temper only by the thinnest of threads. I honestly didn’t care though. If either of these two had anything to do with Daniel’s death, I would make them suffer.

“You have no right to come into my home and accuse either of us of any foul play. We did nothing wrong,” Patrick said. He turned his attention to his wife and rested a hand on her shoulder. For a moment I thought he was comforting her but her eyes flickered with a hint of uncertainty before tears began flowing freely down her face. The reaction was delayed, she was faking it. But why?

“Now you’ve made my wife upset. We’d like you to leave,” Blackmore bit out.

James stared at Mrs. Blackmore in silence, his gaze assessing. Every few seconds her gaze would flicker to his before she promptly looked away, her tears increasing. She was really putting on quite the show.

I pulled one of my daggers out and began using it to clean my fingernails. Mr. Blackmore eyed my blade with equal parts apprehension and outrage. He wasn’t used to being threatened and he certainly was not used to losing control over a situation. Not that I was openly threatening anyone. At least, not yet.

“Mr. Blackmore, Mrs. Blackmore,” I said, addressing them both. Jessica sniffled a few more times before wiping her face and pulling herself together. I had to give it to her, she was almost convincing. Almost.

“I’d like you to be aware of our investigation and know that we will bring the individual or individuals responsible to justice.” I made sure to make eye contact with each of them, allowing the meaning of my statement to sink in. If either of them had played any part in their son’s death, I’d make them burn for it. They were supposed to be loving parents. Parents who were grieving over the death of their only child.

Abruptly James stood up. “Mr. and Mrs. Blackmore, thank you for your time. We’ll be leaving now.”

I stared at him, a question evident in my gaze but the slight shake of his head kept me from voicing the question out loud. Instead I stood up as well, nodded at the two surprised individuals seated across from us, and followed James out the front door, not bothering to say anything else.

Once outside James and I headed straight to the car. With my seatbelt on and the engine started, I turned to James for an explanation.

“They were lying?” I asked him as he put the car into drive.

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know? I thought shifters could scent a lie?”

“We can,” he said, frustration evident in his tone. “But something is off about those two. Especially the mother. My wolf is fighting to get out, he’s angry and senses a wrongness in them. But I’m not sure what it is. I’m having a difficult time keeping him in.” James heaved a sigh as we wove our way onto the freeway.

“They know something. Their lie wasn’t outright, it felt more like a lie of omission.”

“You can scent a lie of omission?”

James shook his head. “It’s more of a feeling. I’m going to put a tail on them and see what that exposes. When they said they weren’t involved in Daniel’s death, that was truth, I think. But when Blackmore said they’d done nothing wrong, that was a lie.”