Make Me Burn: Fireborne, Book 2 (28 page)

Natalie curled her lip at him in warning, and Brandon uttered an unintelligible command in her direction before speaking slowly to Aziza. “I told her to wait outside. Natalie, keep your voice down.”

“Why?” his partner challenged. “What more proof could you possibly need, Bran? I
knew
the woman in the alley. I spoke to Blade more than once.
His
scent is on her and at my count that is now four bodies,
sir
. What are your orders?”

“No.” Aziza knew her voice was loud enough to turn heads, even over the throbbing music, but she didn’t care. She held out her hands in a threatening gesture, as if she were about to ignite her abilities, and Natalie tensed. “There are no orders, Nat, so get your hand off Ram or I swear to you I will burn the flesh off your long, pretty bones.
Bran
knows I’m not lying.”

Brandon’s eyes were gold again—tormented. She could see it in the way every muscle in his body rippled. In his expression. “This is an official investigation, Aziza. There is another dead body in an alley not half a kilometer from here. And there are penalties for resisting…questioning.”

“There can’t be.” She felt like she was drowning. “Blade can’t be dead, Brandon. I was protecting her.”

“She is.” He took a step toward her then stopped, glancing back at Natalie and swearing. “But not like the others. Her throat was slashed and her body left in an alley off a busy street. It’s nothing like the others, but Natalie is right. She smells like Ram.”

Aziza shook her head, as if it would make his words disappear. “No,” she whispered. She saw Ram through her damp lashes. His face was pale. “He didn’t do it, Brandon. You can’t take him in.”

“Then stop me, Aziza,” he said, the meaning in his harshly spoken words clear. “Try and stop me.”

Stop.

Chapter Eleven

Aziza whirled on her heel and ran back toward the bathrooms, careful not to touch any of the human statues frozen in the hall. When she saw the person she was looking for, she gripped her shoulder. “Tabitha? Tabitha, talk to me.”

Tabitha blinked in confusion when she saw Aziza in front of her. “I thought you left.”

“I did.”

Tabitha looked around the room at the women bent over sinks and reaching for hand towels, all of them appearing to have been stopped midaction.

Then she screamed.

Aziza grabbed both her shoulders and shook her. Damn it, she supposed she should have been expecting this reaction. “Tabitha, it’s okay. Stop screaming. Please, it’s okay.”

“How can it be okay? Do you see them? They’re not moving. No one is moving! Why aren’t they moving? What’s happening?”

“I’m moving, Tabitha.” West pushed the door open and smiled gently. “I’m right here talking to you. Everything is going to be all right now. You know me, right?”

“West,” Tabitha whimpered, looking between the two of them with large, frightened eyes. “Is it just in here? Are people moving outside?”

She pushed past West and peered around the open bathroom door. Aziza heard her high-pitched squeak and knew she could see the people locked in position down the hallway. “Grab her, West.”

He caught her just before she bolted and brought her around to face Aziza again. “Tabitha, honey, I know this is hard to understand, but Aziza needs to talk to you for a minute.”

She jerked away from him and eyed Aziza suspiciously. “Did you drug me? Am I hallucinating?” A flash of hope lit her eyes and made Aziza’s heart ache. “I’m dreaming. This is just a dream, isn’t it? I’m sleeping and you’re taking advantage of me.”

Aziza cupped her shoulders again and shook her head. “I’m so sorry, Tabitha. But I need you to focus.”

Tabitha paled. “Are you vampires?”

“What?”
Aziza sighed and tightened her grip on the shaking woman. That wasn’t as crazy a question as it would have been a few months ago. “No vampires here, I promise. Everything is going to be okay, but I need you to talk to me. You said Blade was here less than an hour ago, right?”

“Y-yes.”

“What was she doing before she left? Why did she leave?”

Tabitha sniffed hard and sent Aziza a strange look. “Are you dating Ram?”

Aziza took a breath. “No. No vampires, no drugs, and I’m not dating Ram. Please, it’s important.”

“I’m only wondering because she asked if she could talk to him in private and they went upstairs. She told Foreplay she was going to see if he would negotiate for a private edgeplay scene. She didn’t think you would mind.”

Great. Knives again. So that’s where Ram had been when she arrived. Why had he waited so long before coming back down?

Aziza glanced at West but he shook his head. “I didn’t see them. As far as I know the only thing he was planning on doing tonight was talking to you.”

Tabitha sniffled again. “He said no,” she confirmed. “He was mean about it too, told her to stay as far away from him as she could get and that he didn’t do that anymore. Blade said she was just tired when she left, but Foreplay told me we should follow her.” She started to cry again. “We should have, but I wanted to stay and watch tonight’s demo. If I’d been a better friend she’d still be alive.”

“No.” West bent down until he was looking into Tabitha’s eyes. “If you’d left with her, you might be dead too. There was no way for you to know what was going to happen.”

Aziza let Tabitha go and ran her hands through her hair. That was why Blade had smelled like Ram. And why Blade wasn’t far from the club when she was killed. She’d been rejected. And then she’d been killed.

Why hadn’t Aziza sensed it?

She turned to West. “West, it’s been nice knowing you, but I think I need to get Ram out of the country. At least until I can figure out what the Jiniyr are up to now. This wasn’t another blood ritual gone wrong; this was a sloppy but convincing frame-up. And it was a mistake they will regret.”

It was personal in so many ways. She felt sick with grief and shame that while she’d been with Brandon in the bathroom, reveling in pleasure, an innocent woman who had held her and comforted her just the other day was dying—her throat slashed.

She should have sensed it.

“Blood ritual?” Tabitha’s voice was thready and shaking. “Is that what happened to the other girls? Devil worship or something? We never saw the bodies but there were rumors about them being cut up. Oh God, Blade. I should have kept her here.”

“Fuck.” Aziza looked back over at her witness. “I’m sorry, Tabitha—I’ve never done this before and I suck at it. You didn’t need to hear that.”

She’d never actually used Mayet’s Witness on a witness before. And the way Tabitha was reacting, she may never do it again. The poor girl was traumatized. “It’s going to be okay. You were right. This is probably just a dream. It is too crazy not to be, right? West and I are going to go now and you should go upstairs and lie down for about…” Her voice faded as she tried desperately to think about how much time she would need to get a Ram statue far enough away from Underbridge to be safe from the Enforcers.

West saw her dilemma. “Let’s say forty minutes, Aziza Jane. If you really want to do this, I have a plan.”

Aziza thought about Brandon. He was giving her a chance. A head start. Even after all he knew, all the evidence and his feelings about Ram. Even after she admitted everything. God, why did that make this so much harder? “I want to do this, West. We’re all he has. We can’t let him down.”

She couldn’t let him or Chiye down. She’d failed Blade. She couldn’t fail them.

Tabitha edged her way around them and backed out of the bathroom, shaking her head. “What are you? What.
Are.
You?”

She ran away screaming and Aziza didn’t react until she felt West’s fingers on her chin, closing her mouth. “She’ll be okay, Aziza. She’ll convince herself she had a breakdown and she’ll be better by morning. The best way we can help her is to get all the angry wolf people and our unlucky Jinn out of her sight.”

Aziza let him take her arm and walk her back down the hall toward Ram, Greg and Chiye. “It never crossed my mind,” she muttered. “The screaming. I wasn’t expecting it. Brandon didn’t scream the first time it happened with him. Then again, one of his best friends hadn’t just been murdered.”

West’s laugh was grim. “Werewolves have to act tough, Fireborne. If it makes you feel any better, I’m sure that, secretly, he was terrified.”

Nothing was going to make her feel any better. She’d failed to save another innocent. What was the point of all this power if she couldn’t save anyone?

The keeper’s child can guide you.

She sighed. “I hope wherever you’re taking us, there’s tequila.”

“Stop thinking so hard, Aziza Jane. You’re going to hurt yourself.” West smiled gently, mixing a batch of tequila cocktails at the kitchen counter while she watched him from the other side of the bar.

He’d taken them to an ordinary-looking flat only a few blocks from Underbridge. A keepers’ safe house. And she’d thought nothing could surprise her anymore.

She was just grateful it had been so close. And that her mental Magic 8 Ball had told her she could use the Witness ability twice—so she could release Greg even though she’d already talked to Tabitha. He and West had carried Ram and Chiye the entire way.

Greg hadn’t minded, but Aziza had to smile when she thought about all the swearing West had done with Ram slung over his shoulder.

She glanced down at her now-empty palm. “Are you absolutely sure they can’t find us?”

“Unless I go outside and light a few flares, we’re good. This is no ordinary hideaway.” West shrugged. “Though it’s not unique for us. We have several, more than any of us at one time are allowed to know about, spread all over the world.”

She looked at the walls, seeing no gold. No iron. He followed her gaze and laughed. “We don’t need medieval tricks with metal to hide ourselves, Aziza. We have Mayet on our side. Her black sand was either sealed into the foundation of this building as it was being built, or cooked into the bricks. It varies. Keeper’s children with a talent for building can see where there will be a need long before it happens and plan accordingly. Trust me, this house is well hidden from Jinn and Niyr.”

“What about the Enforcers?” They were the ones she was worried about now. Ram was upstairs, the last one in the shower. West had offered them each a change of clothes when they arrived—yet more sweatpants and T-shirts that were exactly their size. Someone must have known they were coming.

West handed her a glass and took one for himself. “I’m no gardener, but I understand certain trees and flowering bushes, cultivated carefully over centuries, have properties that disrupt a werewolf’s sense of smell. You saw them as you came in and they’ve been scattered around the neighborhood so they’re not too obvious. Take a drink and relax. For the first time in months you can truly relax without using your powers. You don’t have to call on the Mayet. You don’t have to be Fireborne and you don’t have to hide. You can just be.”

She looked over her shoulder. That thought was too tempting. But it was the last thing she could do.

Blade was dead.

“Where are our roommates?”

West took a sip of his drink, watching her closely over the rim of the glass. “I asked Chiye to show Greg the lower tunnel rooms while you and I, and Ram as soon as he works up the nerve to come down the stairs to join us, have a talk. Greg needed some convincing and I doubt she’ll be able to keep him away from you for long. He’s worried about you. But it might be long enough.”

Her head whipped around at that. “Tunnels? Your magical
Brigadoon
flat also has tunnels?”

His lips quirked. “Safe house. Keepers take these things very seriously. You’ll see them later. Now you have questions for me. Important questions that will come to you as I tell you more about myself. Please, Aziza…trust me.”

She didn’t want to ask any more questions. She didn’t want to know anything else.

“I’m here to help you, Aziza Jane,” he assured her. “That is my purpose. Visions from the Mayet are sacred and can never be denied. Not if we are all to continue under her protection.” He spoke casually, as if he were talking about the weather. “I’m to be at the center of unfolding events, protecting what is most important as I stand by the side of the Fireborne.”

Aziza blinked. “Wow, that sounds…”

“Pompous? Self-important?”

“You said it, not me.”

He shrugged. “I told my parents it was their fault for giving me such a big name.”

“I’m assuming West is short for something.”

“Augustus Elam Uriel West.”

She choked, and West’s shoulders shook with silent laughter. “And that is why I don’t share my whole name with just anyone. Not that I’m embarrassed by it. My father named me very carefully and with the best intentions. He used to tell me, ‘A keeper’s child must walk through the world for the most part unseen, so our names, if not our actions, should be memorable’. I think if they’d known where my visions would take me, they would have chosen a simpler name. Like John.”

He straightened and unbuttoned his shirt, dropping it carelessly to the floor so she could see his chest. Aziza swallowed. No man should be this attractive. And no woman with any decency would notice. Not now. Not at a time like this.