Found in Flames (3 page)

What she was having trouble with was the witch thing. Plus the idea that this group of good-looking people, including the family she’d glimpsed near the back of the crowd, seemed to live out in the wilds of Nevada. Nevada barely even had ‘wilds!’
But he clearly said ‘witch.’
And no matter how much she didn’t like it, she was sure she’d seen that man shoot fire from his palm. Okay, so there hadn’t been a wand in his hand and he wasn’t wearing a pointy hat, but maybe those things weren’t necessary for throwing fireballs. How was she to know?

That was what she’d been pondering, in her effort to drown out the sounds of mass grief, when a new sound had joined the cacophony. Howling. Too close to be sneaking up on them, and too mournful to be threatening. Her head had snapped up, eyes wide, as her instincts froze her in place while she attempted to ascertain the source of the echoing howl. Her eyes landed on the group of mourning strangers and, even in the dark of night, she could clearly see that the howling was coming from a wolf, and that wolf was standing near the center of the group, head tilted up to the sky.

Joella
had watched in breathless disbelief as the snarky girl and her long-haired twin shed their simple dresses like they were stepping out of a pair of slippers. Their skin rolled visibly, their backs arched, and a moment later the girls had been replaced by graceful-looking wolves. As they joined in the howling more of the group discarded their clothing to cry their sorrows at the half-moon.

Werewolves….

Even now, hours later, the word echoed around in her head with an eerie surrealism. She’d watched everyone go from two-legged humans to four-legged wolves before her very eyes. Everyone except Luka, who’d walked out of sight shortly before the howling had begun. She herself hadn’t budged from her designated rock, though her gaze had, at some point, lifted back to the sky. Maybe for a sense of familiarity.

The moon was disappearing now as the sun began to lighten the sky, though the sun itself hadn’t yet shown up. The howling had ceased some while before, despite the fact that it continued to echo in her head.

“You and I need to talk,” Luka said suddenly, startling her back to the moment. His tone was firm and his voice was hushed. She didn’t need to know him to recognize that he wasn’t going to take ‘no’ for an answer.

Joella
swallowed and dragged her eyes up to his, belatedly remembering that he was significantly taller than her, a fact which was only emphasized with her sitting down. But she was easily distracted from that detail when she realized she actually had good eye-contact with him for once. His eyes were a dark, smoldering brown that seared right through her. Powerful, cunning, and capable—that was what she got from those eyes. They suited his six-and-a-half-foot, broad-shouldered frame perfectly. But she noticed something else as she studied him from her new angle. The changing light illuminated an old scar on the right side of his face. It looked almost like a flame, licking up his cheek, and seemed to disappear beneath the collar of his tight shirt.

She pushed to her feet without thinking, bringing herself closer to him, and barely caught herself before she’d reached for him. Something about the sight of that scar on his strong jaw, attempting to mar his raw, physical beauty, had her heart softening toward him.

Eyes narrowing as if he’d sensed her thoughts, Luka said, “Come with me,” and he turned in the direction he’d disappeared earlier in the night. Clearly he assumed she would heed his command without question, or even hesitation. Under other circumstances she might have been offended by that, but her heart was still aching in sympathy for everyone around her. She’d had to hear their friend’s dying cry, and then she’d had to witness their grief.

Grief, she realized, Luka likely felt, too. But he’d ostracized himself from the rest of the group, for reasons she didn’t understand. And that made the ache in her chest throb a little harder. No one should have to grieve alone. So she released a breath and followed him, having no idea what he thought they needed to talk about. But whatever was on his mind, she had questions, too. The adrenaline from her kidnapping had faded, and she had to admit she didn’t feel immediately threatened. That didn’t mean she was willing to sit by and be bossed around with little to no explanation. Especially if witches and werewolves were anywhere near this conversation.

She’d done what Luka had asked. She’d sat patiently on that rock all night. Now he owed her some answers.

Chapter Three

“Are you a werewolf?” she asked as soon as Luka came to a stop. He’d led her to a large, shallow cave a couple of rock formations away from the now-collapsed wolves. There was a small pile of clothes off to one side, just inside the mouth of the cave.

Luka turned to face her and lifted one thick brown brow high on his forehead. “Figured that out all on your own?”

Scrunching her nose at him,
Joella
crossed her arms and said, “Listen, I’m still attempting to accept that I haven’t just been drugged, okay? So could you
try
to be nice?”

“What if I told you
you
had been drugged?” he returned as he lowered himself to sit on the patches of grass near the center of the cave.

From his tone she couldn’t tell if he was joking. “That’s not funny,” she snapped, following him into the cave on reflex.

He was already sitting, one long leg stretched out and the other bent at the knee. The jeans looked sinfully good on him, and combined with the tight, muscle-revealing shirt, it was safe to say she was distracted. Still, she opted to blame her lack of sleep or food and, in an attempt to retain her sanity, she sat carefully a couple of feet away, facing him. “Let’s say I can swallow the ‘werewolf’ pill,” she allowed, “and the guy you saved me from, he’s a witch? Like, ‘abracadabra, hocus pocus’?”

Luka snorted and shook his head. “More like ‘fires of hell’,” he replied. “Witches have element-based powers. And the longer back the lineage traces, the stronger the witch.”

Shrugging as if that all made sense, and hoping someday it would,
Joella
asked, “But then why would this witch come after me?” A terrible thought occurred to her, then, and her hands flew over her mouth as she gasped. “Your friend… He wasn’t trying to protect me … was he?” Had she gotten a complete stranger killed? Would she be able to forgive herself if that were the case? And why on earth would she even need protection, let alone from a witch? It wasn’t like she had any enemies that she knew of….

“No,” Luka assured her, his voice harsh with pain he probably wouldn’t admit. He was glaring at the dirt somewhere beside his bare foot, and his glare never wavered as he elaborated. “Char will come after you simply because you interrupted him.”

Releasing an inappropriate breath of relief,
Joella
said, “I suppose that makes—wait, ‘Char’?” He’d said it like a name, but she had to have misheard him.
Who names their baby ‘Char?’

“It’s an alias,” Luka said. He released a breath and lifted his dangerous eyes back to hers. “Witches never reveal their real names to their enemies. I only know what family he’s from by his scent.”

“This is ridiculous,”
Joella
mumbled. “Why did he…?” She couldn’t ask that. Whatever the answer, it wasn’t her business. Asking would just be hurtful. Especially if the almost-invisible wince she caught on Luka’s face was any indication. The hand hanging over his knee clenched in a tight fist and she could practically feel his anger. And for some inexplicable reason, she found that she didn’t like the sight. The pain in his eyes, in the tightness of his jaw, and the white-knuckled grip of his fist, it was all wrong. Everyone else had found comfort in each other. Why did Luka have to suffer in solitude? Did they blame him? Did he blame himself?

Whatever the reason, she disagreed with it powerfully. Human, werewolf, she didn’t care. Luka was a man with feelings, just like any other. And just like any other person who’d lost a good, close friend, the last thing he needed was to be alone. She was as sure of that as she was of the slowly rising sun.

She was moving before she could think better of it, letting one hand land solidly on his shoulder as she reached over and caught his chin with the other. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered when his slightly-widened eyes met hers. “Maybe if I’d gotten there a few seconds sooner…. Maybe I could’ve done something.”

Her words hung in the air and the tension in his shoulder slowly eased as he unclenched his fist. He held her eyes captive for several long, quietly intense seconds. Then his lips were crashing over hers, he’d tangled one hand in her shoulder-length hair, and her chest was pressing wholly into his. He was kissing her with a barely-contained ferocity that was both overwhelming and exhilarating. She was powerless as he sucked her lower lip into his mouth and nipped it with his teeth, and her blood was quickly coming to a boil as her body began to feel things it hadn’t felt in far too long. It was all she could do to keep up with the pace of his kiss, her arms instinctively winding around his neck.

His tongue swept into her mouth, stroking and sliding, demanding more from her even as his arm coiled around her waist and hauled her into his lap. She felt herself moan into his kiss as she let her fingers slip into his head of full, thick, chocolate-brown hair. The softness of his hair was in such stark contrast to the rest of him. The rest of him was deliciously hard and muscular, full of dangerous, primal promises. Promises her body was startlingly eager for him to fulfill. If he made love the way he kissed, a night with him would bring an entirely new definition of passion and pleasure. She’d certainly never been kissed the way he was kissing her.

He’d taken full possession of her mouth, one hand now fisted in her hair, the other cupping her ass and holding her tight against his chest. She could barely breathe and she absolutely could not get enough. Her tongue rolled shamelessly along his with every opportunity.

You know better, Ella,
some piece of retained sanity whispered in the back of her mind. And oh how she wished that part of her were wrong. But it wasn’t and so, with more effort than she was willing to admit to needing,
Joella
pulled back from his hungry lips.

The moment she applied pressure to his shoulders, his grip loosened, and she watched, transfixed, as his Adam’s apple bobbed with a heavy swallow. She kept her hands on him, just under his shoulders, as she worked on catching her breath.

“Why,” she said with a gasp. “Why did you bring me here last night?”

Luka’s expression fell into a frown and his hands slid to her hips, but he made no effort to remove her from his lap. “I told you,” he said. “Char will come for you now.”

“Right,” she acknowledged, barely resisting the urge to dance her fingers around the collar of his shirt. He was way too distracting for her health. “But, why is that your concern? Why do you care about whether I live or die?”

As soon as she asked it an odd sensation fell over her. The question, relevant though it was, seemed so much heavier. Not because of the passionate kiss they’d just shared, but because, thinking about it that way, she wasn’t honestly sure there was anyone who truly had cause to care about her survival. Sure, she had work friends, and two or three friends from college she’d kept in touch with, but no one she really felt close to. And that realization was far from comforting.

Luka’s frown deepened, whether because of her question or because of his seeming ability to read her mind, she wasn’t sure. “He’s my enemy. Everyone he kills is my fault, because I failed to kill him when I had the chance.”

Her eyes widened and, thoughtlessly, her gaze landed on his scar. Without direction, her fingers followed her gaze and, as the tips of her fingers landed on the curve of it over his cheek, she whispered, “Did he … do this?”

Frown softening as his gaze shifted, becoming distant, Luka replied, “Yes.”

For a moment she felt the burn of tears behind her eyes, but
Joella
pushed them aside and leaned forward, pressing her lips lightly to the scar where it bent to follow the curve of his jaw.

Luka’s arms wound around her waist, hands splaying over her spine, and he whispered, “Why do you care about my pain?”

“I know what
it’s
like,” she admitted softly, her arms curling around his throat. “To grieve … alone. No one should have to endure that.”

Silence settled around them for a moment, and an odd sense of comfort warmed
Joella’s
heart, much the way Luka’s embrace was warming her body. After a few seconds, however, a very different sensation made itself aware and
Joella
bit back a groan of mortification.

“Luka,” she began, sitting up a bit again even though she couldn’t bring herself to look him in the eye. “Do you, um, have somewhere I could pee?”

He raised a brow at her and she could’ve sworn a corner of his lips twitched with amusement but, fortunately for him, she wasn’t looking straight at him to be certain. “Yeah,” he replied instead, before promptly shoving to his feet without releasing her.

Joella
cried, startled, and tightened her hold on him as her legs dangled awkwardly in the air. The man was nearly a foot taller than her! But his hands returned to her hips and he set her down without argument, gently, and on her feet this time. Like he’d suddenly decided to have manners.
Geez, kiss a guy once and he’s all nice to you all of a sudden.

With one hand at the small of her back, Luka escorted her out of the cave and around to the back, where he gestured toward the not-so-distant line of desert trees and shrubbery. “There’s the tree to the left, the tree to the right, or those bristle bushes in the middle. Your choice, but don’t get too close to the bushes, they’re a real pain in the ass.”

Mouth falling open in horror,
Joella
shifted and angled her stare up at his profile. “You can’t be serious.”

“What,” he said. “You expected a toilet and running water out here?”

Well, when you phrase it like that….
Groaning now,
Joella
squeezed her eyes shut and dropped her forehead into his shoulder. “How long until I can go home? Maybe I can just hold it.”

“Sorry, Ella,” he said, “but I can’t make you any promises there.”

She wasn’t sure what to say to that. On one hand his response made sense, she supposed, but she was stuck on the dumbest thing.
Ella.
Since her mother’s death, and her subsequent loss of the good friend she’d had in her youth, no one had called her that. It was what she called herself most of the time, but only in her head. “Are you a mind-reader?” she asked suddenly. “Can all werewolves read minds, or is it a special-to-you kind of thing?”

His eyebrow was going to get stuck unnaturally high on his forehead if he kept giving her the look that followed that question. “No to both,” he replied after a long second. This time his lips did twitch and he added, “But your scent generally gives away your mood, so it doesn’t take a lot of effort to guess most things.”

Well that’s embarrassing.
But it didn’t explain the name thing.

“Like embarrassment,” Luka offered teasingly when she didn’t say anything.

Biting back another groan,
Joella
smacked him lightly in the side and stepped back. “Could you pretend not to know everything I’m feeling? And go back to the cave or something. You do not get to watch me pee.”

She swore she could see him swallow his laughter as he inclined his head. “Watch out for snakes,” he said helpfully as he strode back toward the cave.

Jerk.
There weren’t any snakes out this time of year. She hoped.

Having lingered long enough to sort out her scattered, confused thoughts,
Joella
decided she was due a few more answers. At the very least, some more thorough explanations, not the least of which had to include why Luka seemed to think she could just not show up for her regularly scheduled life without repercussion. Whether or not she liked it, after all, she still needed her job. So, as she returned to the small cave where she presumed Luka was waiting for her, she steeled herself for another argument.

She just wasn’t expecting it to have started without her.

“I won’t say it again,” Luka declared, his usually gruff voice just above a growl. “We stick to the plan.”

Joella
came up short, one hand landing on the outer stone wall of the cave. She couldn’t be positive, given that it had been dark when she’d been brought there and she’d never been properly introduced to Luka’s group, but she was fairly sure that was the dead man’s brother Luka was talking to.

The smaller man flinched and
Joella
got the distinct impression he wasn’t usually comfortable arguing. Still, he tried. “But Justin—!”

“Wouldn’t want you throwing your life away for revenge,” Luka said sharply. “We will get vengeance,” he added, “but I won’t tolerate you running off half-cocked.”

Head hanging, the man clenched shaking fists and said, “Yes, Alpha.”

Luka watched him trudge back toward the clearing where the rest had previously been gathered in silence and for a moment
Joella
wondered if he’d even realized she was there. He answered that unspoken question when he said, “I see you survived.”

Biting her lip as she briefly reconsidered her earlier intent,
Joella
stepped forward. “Somehow,” she replied.
Come on, Ella, you have to do this.
Taking a breath, she added, “Listen, I understand your point, but I can’t just disappear from my life. I have a job, and I need to keep it to pay my bills.”

During her little speech Luka had turned, frowning at her, and when she was done, he took a moment with his response. She couldn’t read his expression, aside from his obvious disapproval.