Pyromancist (21 page)

“Good night, little witch.”

Instead of looking at him, she covered her
face with her arm, hiding her eyes from him. He noticed the red
marks with regret, damage he had done in the name of love and war,
where everything was supposed to be fair. Only, life didn’t work
like that.

He closed the door quietly and went upstairs.
As he rounded the control room on the upper deck, he noticed Bono
leaning against the lounge wall, smoking a cigar.

“Not staying the night?” Bono said, puffing
smoke up into the air.

“Shut up, Bono, or you’ll get that cigar
where you deserve it.”

Josselin stayed up late, and when he finally
went to his cabin, he stopped at her door and listened, but all was
quiet. Only the sound of the sea lapping at the yacht kept the
silence at bay.

Chapter
Twelve

“You can’t keep on circling in the Gulf,”
Clelia said. “At some point you have to admit this is
pointless.”

She sat in the Jacuzzi on the deck with Maya.
The boat was motionless. Maya had fetched her for breakfast and
Clelia had noticed with no little disappointment that Josselin had
gone. He was nowhere to be seen. Then, as if they were on holiday,
Maya had told her, or rather instructed her, to put on her bathing
suit so that Maya could ‘babysit’ her in the Jacuzzi. Josselin
hadn’t packed one, so Clelia had to wear one of Maya’s bikinis, and
looking at the red fabric covering meager parts of her body, it was
clear where Clelia’s curves were lacking.

“Not so pointless when it ensures our
safety,” Maya said, obviously in her element in the water.

“Someone can shoot at you even on a
boat.”

Maya laughed softly. “That wasn’t the safety
I was referring to.”

“What
were
you referring to?”

“We’re on water. It’s the best counter
defense for fire,” Maya said, lifting her brow.

“You mean if someone sets the boat on fire,”
Clelia said, feeling anxious and frightened.

Maybe the fact that they locked her in at
night was a blessing. If she sleepwalked, she couldn’t go farther
than her cabin door. It suddenly occurred to her that she hadn’t
been dreaming since Josselin had kidnapped her. Not that she had
slept much since the ordeal. No more fires had been started,
either...

Clelia reflected for a moment. On the morning
that Josselin had landed on the jetty in a helicopter and taken her
hostage, Maya had said that his presence was required at another
fire on Île de la Jument. The island wasn’t that far. If she had
walked in her sleep that night, in the early morning hours, she
could have taken the dinghy, done it, and been back in her bed
without even knowing. By the time she got to the harbor, the fire
would have been discovered on the almost deserted island. It could
have been her. Why did Erwan refuse to listen to her when she tried
to warn him about her possible guilt? Even if the fires weren’t her
doing, she still felt the changes stirring inside her. It called
her, pulled at her. Something inside her was awakening, and it
wanted out.

A speedboat pulling a skier cruised past
them. The man on the skis waved at them. Maya lifted a graceful
hand, and the man’s face broke into a seductive smile.

“Shouldn’t you avoid attracting attention,
keep as inconspicuous as possible?” Clelia said.

The speedboat turned and came around in
another noisy semi-circle.

Maya kept her eyes on the man in the wetsuit
behind the boat. “I can’t help it if I stand out.”

Clelia wished the boat would go play
somewhere else and take its noise with it, but then an idea
occurred to her. When the skier came past for the second round,
closer to them this time, Clelia jumped up and waved her arms in
the air.

“Help!” she screamed as loud as she
could.

Instead of attacking her or seeming alarmed,
Maya only snickered. To Clelia’s dismay, the man laughed and blew
her a kiss.

“Sit down,” Maya said, rolling her eyes. “He
thinks you’re making a pass at him.”

Clelia realized with a sagging heart that
Maya was right. Maya wasn’t worried about the outburst because it
seemed ridiculous to jump from a Jacuzzi on the deck of a luxury
yacht and scream to be rescued. Any man would believe she was just
coming on to him. She sat down slowly, defeated.

“Looks like Erwan has abandoned you,” Maya
said out of the blue.

“I told you,” Clelia said with a desperate
tone, “he’s innocent. That’s why keeping me on this boat that is
literally turning in circles is pointless. Erwan doesn’t even know
where I am. How could he ever come for me?”

“Joss has planted enough clues for him. He’ll
know.”

“And if not?”

“Then ... it depends on Joss.”

“What depends on him?”

Maya’s smile was suddenly a very good excuse
for being tight-lipped.

“You’re going to kill me. I heard Cain and
Josselin talk,” Clelia said, the fear creeping into her veins
again, making her go cold in the hot water of the tub.

“Why be so gloomy?” Maya said. “Let’s rather
enjoy the moment. Enjoy the sun. One minute at a time is a good
motto for life.”

Clelia imagined Josselin with the gun he had
aimed at his head. Now it was pointed at her. How would he kill
her? Would he strangle her? Shoot her? Drown her? A part of her
couldn’t believe he would harm her. But she presumed that part of
her to be her heart, and not her logical mind.

The noise of the speedboat was like an
elastic band pulling thin and then giving way, zooming in and out,
but Clelia wasn’t watching its course any longer.

“I would like to go to the cabin,” Clelia
said. She needed to think, work out some kind of plan to keep
herself and Erwan safe, and then figure out if she was indeed the
one Josselin was after, the firestarter he had to destroy.

Maya kicked water into the air with her toe.
A tiny, black bikini that showed off her well-toned muscles adorned
her curves. She shook drops of water from her dreadlocks and rested
her elbows on the side of the tub.

“May as well catch some sun while I have to
sit here and watch your ass.” Her red lips tilted in a sensual way.
“Or would you rather be handcuffed to Josselin’s bed?”

Clelia looked away, already feeling the blush
creep up her neck and face. “Where is he, anyway?” she said, not
quite succeeding in sounding unaffected.

“Your captor is in Vannes, shopping.”

“Shopping?”

“Our food has to come from somewhere.”

Bono appeared from the lower deck. He
strolled toward them and stretched. “I’m not made for water. I
tried to lift some weights in the gym, but what I really need is a
nice, long run. Preferably on solid ground.”

Maya smiled up at him. “Missing your big, bad
flying machine?”

He cracked his knuckles. “You know me. I’m
happiest in the air.”

“In case Josselin hasn’t properly introduced
you,” Maya said to Clelia, “Bono is our helicopter pilot.” She
turned back to Bono. “You could join us. Water’s nice.” Maya turned
the jets up a notch.

Bono chuckled. “And risk having my neck
broken by her boyfriend?”

“He’s not claiming her, so...” Maya fluttered
her cat-like eyelashes.

“No thanks.” Bono turned to Clelia. “No
offence.”

“In that case, be a sweetheart and fetch us
ladies each a cocktail.”

“Didn’t know we were allowed any while on
duty. You know how Cain feels about that.”

Maya snorted. “Make it a booze-free one, for
God’s sake. But I want the umbrella and the cherry and all the
fucking trimmings if I can’t have the alcohol.”

Bono grinned. “You drive a hard bargain,
Maya.”

“Mmm. I drive a lot of things hard.”

“Two virgin strawberry daiquiris coming up,”
he said, laughing as he walked off.

“I don’t get the lot of you,” Clelia
said.

Maya closed her eyes in a blissful gesture
and tilted her face to the sun. “What’s there to get?”

“You kidnap me, and now you serve me
cocktails in a Jacuzzi. Is that how you treat all your
hostages?”

“Depends on the hostage.”

“And what gives me special privileges?”

Maya opened her eyes and looked at Clelia.
“Josselin seems to be rather ... fond ... of you.”

“Will his ‘fondness’ prevent him from killing
me?” Clelia said, feeling the coldness from his absence and the
knowledge of how doomed she was touching her heart anew.

“No,” Maya said without missing a beat. “Not
if you’re fencing for the wrong side. Joss will kill anything
that’s evil.”

Clelia swallowed. “Has he ... killed a
lot?”

“Only when necessary,” Maya said. “He’s a
pain in the ass but he’s not bad. A bit tormented, but that adds to
his charm, don’t you think?”

Clelia wasn’t in the mood to discuss
Josselin’s sexual appeal. She wanted to fill in the gaps since the
time he had left town.

Bono reappeared carrying two tall cocktail
glasses decorated with all the edible and inedible accessories a
bar could stock. He walked like a tightrope artist, concentrating
hard not to spill a drop, and despite the situation, Clelia smiled.
The designation of pink daiquiri mixer definitely didn’t fit the
big, muscular man. He looked out of his depth, whereas Clelia could
imagine him completely at ease with a helicopter’s cyclic in his
hands.

Maya took her drink and blew him a kiss.
“You’re a honey. Thanks Bo.”

He went down onto his haunches and handed
Clelia hers. “I’m no good at this. I think it may lack some crushed
ice.”

“Thank you,” Clelia said, looking away
shyly.

It was then her eye caught Josselin’s,
standing next to the steps, plenty of bags at his feet. He looked
angry. Mad actually. He wore his signature leather pants and a
black T-shirt that stretched over his chest, making Clelia catch
her breath. With the noise of the speedboat, she hadn’t heard the
motorboat arriving, and now she had the ridiculous feeling that she
had been caught red-handed.

Josselin’s eyes were fixed on her as he made
his way over the ropes and necessary clutter on the deck, as light
as a cat walking on cushioned paws, a stark contrast to Bono’s
earlier performance.

His shadow fell over her. Without turning his
gaze away from her, he took the drink and left it on the wooden
deck before reaching for a towel that was draped over a
deckchair.

“Get out,” he said.

“Joss, give her a break, all right?” Maya
said.

He didn’t look at Maya. His gaze was intently
directed on Clelia’s exposed flesh, his expression promising
nothing good.

The speedboat cruised past again, the skier
making an impressive jump over the wake. Clelia cringed as the
unsuspecting man blew a kiss in her direction again.

Josselin’s face instantly turned to thunder.
Clelia almost expected him to dive into the water and wring the
other man’s neck, but he constrained himself with undisguised
effort, the veins popping out in his neck.

“Maya,” he said his voice cold, “do something
about that fucking boat.”

Maya didn’t hesitate. Even Maya, who didn’t
seem easily affected by Josselin’s wrath, looked tense. She lifted
her palm and flicked it sideways. In an instant, a small wave
lifted from the water and ran toward the man behind the boat. When
it hit him, it tossed him out of his skis. Clelia watched his
surprised expression, and that of his friend who was steering the
boat. Maya flicked her palm the other way, and another wave hit
them from the opposite side.

“Come get me!” she heard the man call to his
friend in the boat. “Too many slipstreams.”

The boat turned, engine idling, and in no
time the skier was onboard. He waved one last time and Clelia
almost exhaled with relief when they took off. She was so
distracted by the trick Maya had played that she had almost
forgotten about the very angry Josselin who now watched her with
icy eyes.

“Get out,” he said again.

“Joss,” Maya said softly, “it was my idea. We
were just cooling off a bit.”

Without responding, Josselin extended his
hand in a commanding gesture.

Not daring to glance at either Maya or Bono,
Clelia obeyed, getting to her feet and taking the hand he offered
to help her over the edge. She stepped cautiously into the towel he
held open for her.

Only then did he turn to Bono. “Bring the
bags in.” To Maya he said, “There are things that need to go in the
fridge. See to it.”

He took Clelia’s arm and guided her below
deck.

* * * *

Josselin gritted his teeth as he led Clelia
back to her cabin. Seeing her like that, almost naked, with Bono’s
gaze undressing what wasn’t already exposed, had made him want to
ground Bono for a year. After breaking his jaw. And his nose. And
all his fingers. He didn’t dare to think of the idiot who had blown
Clelia a kiss.

Once inside, Josselin clicked the door shut.
“Did you enjoy that?”

“The Jacuzzi?”

“No. The flirting with Bono and that wanker
on the water.”

“We weren’t flirting.”

“Clelia, don’t you know what men think when
they look at your body?”

“Are you speaking for all men, Josselin, or
with the exception of yourself?”

He pulled his hands through his hair.

“You kidnapped me, Josselin. I may be your
hostage, but you don’t own me.”

The statement was a sword through his
stomach. Yes, it was true. He had made no claim on her. No man had.
Not yet. She was free to choose whatever man she wanted to initiate
her into the passions still locked in her body, to be a mate for
her soul. He had no right to be jealous, or angry, or protective.
The only right he had was to do his job, to catch a firestarter,
and to prevent evil from claiming power, and he was doing a goddamn
bad job.

“When this is over...” he said, but then
paused.