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Authors: Charmaine Pauls

Tags: #erotica, #multicultural, #france, #desire, #secrets, #interracial, #kidnap, #firestarter, #fires, #recurring nightmare

Pyromancist (9 page)

BOOK: Pyromancist
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“Sloppy assassin.” Josselin chuckled.

“Sloppy or not, I hate bullets flying around
my head,” Maya said over her shoulder, holding both handguns
steadily aimed on the entrances. “Where the fuck is air
support?”

“Bono, did you get that?” Josselin said.

He let go of Clelia to remove a revolver from
his body holster and when another round of shots assaulted the
window frames, the door, and the walls, the three agents, or
whatever they called themselves, returned it with determined
vengeance.

Clelia suddenly realized that this was her
opportunity for escape. She might not get another chance. Glancing
in Josselin’s direction, she saw that his eyes and gun were trained
on the window to their right. Lann was scanning the garden through
the broken window on the left, and Maya’s attention was focused on
the door. Slowly, she crawled away from her position next to
Josselin. If she could get down the hallway, she could climb
through another window at the back.

When she was a few yards away from the
corridor, she jumped to her feet and sprinted for the escape route.
All she had to do was launch her body and jump, shut the door and
lower the bolt. That would give her enough time to get away. Just
as she projected her body, she felt a hand on her ankle, breaking
her run. She fell forward, a scream escaping her lips because she
knew it was going to be a hard landing, but the hold on her foot
disappeared and a strong pair of arms grabbed her from behind and
steadied her.

She still went down, but not with the
jaw-breaking thump she’d expected. It was Josselin’s body that
covered hers once more. He dragged her to the far wall, and pushed
her body tight against the cold bricks with his. He had his hand in
her hair. It was a firm grip, but it didn’t hurt. Pinching her eyes
shut, she refused to look into his face.

She could feel his lips brush over the lobe
of her ear, his warm breath as he whispered, “Don’t ever run from
me. Don’t make me come after you.”

A shiver ran over her body at the menacing
undertone she heard in his voice, and then the noise of a
helicopter broke through the air.

“Yes, permission to fire,” Josselin said into
his mic. There was a short pause. “Fuck. Did you get a visual?” He
listened to the reply. “We’re coming out. Wait until we’re mobile
and circle around. See if you can pick up the shooter.”

Josselin lifted Clelia in his arms and
carried her outside. Lann and Maya flanked them.

“Maya, scan for explosives.”

Maya ran ahead with something she pulled from
a big bag on her shoulder. It looked like a handheld metal
detector. She flicked a button and did a quick search of the SUV
before she nodded at Josselin. He helped Clelia into the vehicle
and took the seat next to her, sheltering her under his arm. Lann
sat opposite them and Maya took the driver’s seat. They each knew
exactly which position to take. They appeared to function like a
well-oiled machine.

Josselin addressed the Russian.
“Assessment?”

“Like you said. Sharpshooter,” Lann said. His
voice was velvety and calm, but he appeared stressed. “We better
warn Cain.”

“We didn’t have any fucking intelligence of
an attack,” Maya said over her shoulder, starting the engine and
taking a dirt trail that led to the village.

“Bono,” Josselin said, “are we clear?”

“Either we were the targets,” Lann said, “or
he was after someone else.” He looked pointedly at Clelia.

Josselin’s arm tightened around Clelia’s
body. She was shaking uncontrollably. Even her teeth were
chattering. She couldn’t decide if she was hot, or cold, or both.
She stared at Josselin, frightened, feeling out of control.

“Easy now.” Josselin rubbed her arms. “You’re
all right. It’s the shock.”

“Where are we going?” Maya said, glancing at
them in the rearview mirror.

“D11.” Josselin wiped a hand over his face.
“Bono, take her down in ten. If we don’t have a tail on our killer
by then, he’s gotten away. Too many holidaymakers to use infrared.
We’ll run the satellite recording later, see if we can nail anyone
with a weapon. Maya, brief Cain on our status. He’s coming in by
helijet. He needs to know we’re exposed before he crosses French
airspace. Lann, set up a safe house before Cain arrives. Maya,
we’ll need to shift our ground base to the safe house as soon as
Lann has secured a new location.”

“I’m on it,” Lann said.

“The locals are going to go ape shit,” Maya
said. “What are we going to tell the press? If this comes out, our
operation is compromised. Can we cover it up?”

“I’ll handle the media,” Josselin said. “Can
you keep your asses clear until we have a new safe house?”

Maya snorted. “I should kick your ass just
for asking that. What about you ... and
her
?”

“I’m taking her someplace secure until it’s
safe to move.”

The van suddenly came to a halt where the
road split to Carnac. Clelia tried to look out of the darkened
windows of the vehicle to get a sense of where they were heading.
It wasn’t that she needed to know where she was, she needed to
ground herself with something concrete. She was still shaking, and
it wasn’t just from her damp clothes. So many things assaulted her
mind that she couldn’t think.

It was Maya who spoke. “You know what to do,
Joss.”

Clelia got the uneasy impression that Maya
was talking about her from the way they all stared at her.

“I’m not pulling a bag over her head,”
Josselin said, “not with what just happened.”

“It may be your territory, but your
protective
behavior of the China doll is questionable, not
to mention that she’s going to get us killed,” Maya said.

“Japanese,” he hissed. “Not Chinese. And
another word from you and you’re back in the office doing admin.
Permanently. Am I clear?” Josselin said.

Maya pursed her lips. “Like crystal.”

“Take this,” Lann said. He held out a
hypodermic needle in the palm of his hand.

Clelia was battling to follow the
conversation. It was as if her mind wasn’t capable of processing
words or deciphering sentences. But when Josselin took the needle
and removed his arm from around her body, shifting so that he
pinned her into the corner, a cold fear made her body break out in
a comprehending sweat.

“No,” she whispered through dry lips,
suddenly understanding that whatever was in the needle was meant
for her.

“I’m sorry,” he said, taking her arm and
pushing the needle into her skin.

The last thing she remembered was the feeling
of his thumb brushing over her palm.

 

 

Chapter
Six

 

If a crate of pinching crabs had been dropped
on her head, she would have felt better. Clelia woke in the dark,
her body aching and her mouth so dry she battled to move her
tongue. Besides feeling nauseous, she was disorientated, and her
first thought was that she’d been sleepwalking again. Fighting her
own body, she willed her eyes to open, but her eyelids were stuck,
and so were her legs and arms. Panic was a tide that washed up in
her throat with another wave of sickness as she imagined herself
confined in a very dark coffin, buried alive. The sound that tore
through her throat sounded like someone else’s voice, and instead
of bouncing off the sides of the box that held her like she thought
it should, it was no more than a muffled scream.

“Open your eyes, Clelia,” a voice said,
blowing over her face.

“Don’t bury me,” she cried, “don’t bury me
alive.”

She heard a curse and felt something touch
her–warm hands on her arms, the tickle of hair on her shoulders and
face.

“You’re in a room, on a bed. Come on now,
little witch. Open your eyes for me.”

Slowly, the thick layer of soil that had
seemed to trap her, lifted, and she managed to peel her eyelids
from her sockets, blinking, feeling an enormous sense of relief
when they started to focus. It was dark, but not so much that she
couldn’t make out Josselin’s face. He knelt beside her, his big
body hovering over her. It didn’t come back to her slowly; it hit
her like springtide in the face.

“Where am I?” she said, trying to sit up.

Josselin had to help her. “Someplace safe.
Here.” He reached behind him in the dark and folded her hand around
something cold that he brought to her mouth.

When she tasted the water, she drank greedily
until the glass was empty. He refilled it from a decanter and gave
it back to her with two tablets that he held on the palm of his
hand.

“What’s that?” she said, looking at the
pills, the sound more of a croak than words.

“Aspirin. Your body will be dehydrated from
the drug I gave you. You should have a headache.”

She did ache. Everywhere. She allowed him to
place the pills in her mouth and swallowed them with the remainder
of the water.

“Better?” he said.

“No.” She shook her head.

“The tranquilizer was too strong. As it
wasn’t exactly planned, I couldn’t adjust the dose for your body
weight. I didn’t inject it all, but it still knocked you out good.
You’ll feel better in a while.”

“This can’t be legal. You kidnapped me.”

He took back the glass and deposited it on a
bedside table. Clelia rubbed at her arms.

“No, it’s not legal,” he said, surprising her
with his honesty.

“What’s the meaning of this?”

“You know what I want.”

“You want Erwan.”

“I need to question you both.”

“I’ll never say or do anything that could
bring him harm. Even if I knew where Erwan was, I wouldn’t
tell.”

He studied her for a bit. “And I’ll never
expect you to. I won’t ask you to betray him.”

“And you think he’ll come to you if you keep
me?” she said, as the insight suddenly hit her.

“Exactly.”

“He’s innocent.”

“Forensic experts found his DNA all over the
crime scenes.”

“And as I told your female agent, or soldier,
or whatever you call her, he went to all the sites. Everyone
did.”

“Not everyone’s DNA is on every scene,
Clelia.” It sounded like a gentle reproach.

“It doesn’t mean a thing.”

“Maybe not, but you know as well as I do that
magic has existed in our village for as long as our standing
stones.”

Clelia’s throat contracted. “Magic?”

“Come on, little witch, you know there are a
lot of people from these parts who hide their ... true
talents.”

She shivered. “I wish you’d stop calling me
that.”

“What? Witch? Why? It’s not an insult. On the
contrary...”

“It brings back unpleasant memories.”

He straightened abruptly. “I’m not
particularly sensitive to sentiments. I had no idea.”

Of course, he had no idea. He never witnessed
the teasing and the name-calling at school. He was too busy making
out with all the beautiful girls to notice a child, a castaway
outsider.

“Who are you, Josselin?”

“You don’t remember me?” He lifted a mocking
brow. “I thought you said you knew who I was.”

“You know what I mean. What do you have to do
with this investigation?”

“Do you want the truth, or a sugarcoated
version that won’t strip you of your belief in the safety of your
world? I could tell you something you want to hear, or give you
reality. Most people go for the first option. And those who
unwisely choose the second, always regret it, and always end up in
denial.”

She shivered. “I want the truth.”

He shrugged. “As you wish.”

“Wait a minute,” she said as a thought hit
her. “Will you have to kill me if I know the truth?”

An unreadable expression passed over his
face. “Kill you? No, Clelia, I won’t kill you.” He paused. “Not for
knowing the truth.”

Clelia’s chest tightened. So, he would kill
if needed.

“No one will believe you, anyway,” he
continued. “According to records, we don’t even exist. From our
side, there’s really nothing to worry about, at least not from
you.”

That statement hurt just a little, to know
she was considered so unimportant that whatever she said wouldn’t
be taken seriously.

“Well, then there’s no reason for you to hold
back,” she said, lifting her chin.

His smile was almost mocking. “I don’t want
to shatter your reality, so let’s just say that I’m heading a
special taskforce. We’ve been commissioned to investigate the ...
arson.”

“Special taskforce?”

“We investigate crimes that regular police
can’t solve with the normal means at their disposal. You can say
that we’re kind of a last resort. We get called in when everything
else fails, when the physical laws of nature don’t explain or
support the facts.”

She now understood why he had referred to
magic. The fires weren’t simple arson. Her fears may not have been
unfounded, after all. She tried hard not to give in to panic.

“Like in unnatural crimes, you mean?” she
asked weakly, glad that the physical lethargy she felt masked her
anxiety.

“The phrase we use is paranormal crime.”

“And you believe Erwan and I are
involved?”

“I haven’t yet come to any conclusions.
That’s why I need Erwan. I need answers from him. Right now, he’s
the only person who can give me the answers I’m after.”

“What makes you think that he can give you
any answers?”

“For starters, there are the rumors about
your mother. You have to admit, it’s too big a coincidence to
ignore.”

Playing dumb, she said, “What rumors?”

He gave her a reproachful look. “You know the
answer to that, but I’ll play along with your game. There were
rumors that she started spontaneous fires, just like the ones
destroying your village.”

“You believe a firestarter is involved?” she
said.

He cocked his head. “You know the answer to
that, beautiful witch.”

BOOK: Pyromancist
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