Stroke of Fire Read online

  “I-I’m okay. Was thinking and…” Briella rubbed a hand over her chilled cheeks. She picked up the watering can and sighed. “Sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize to me.” He hitched a thumb over his shoulder. “I think that security guy should apologize to you for the scare.”

  “I should get that.”

  “Hey, why don’t you go sit down? It’s obvious you’re still trying to cope with last night. I’ll let him in and give him the rundown, okay?” Mark lifted her chin with a single finger until their gazes met. For once, he wasn’t thinking about a relationship. He was genuinely worried for her. “I’ll handle it. You relax.”

  Briella followed Mark into the apartment and took a seat at the counter in her kitchenette. The only way she could truly relax was to paint. And to paint, she needed to be alone.

  Painting was her escape. Her purge of the bad and bothersome.

  The empty canvas beckoned her with unseen force. She knew what would consume the white of the slate. She knew what, in a day or two, she’d find herself staring at.

  The image had not left her mind since the night before.

  The image of a man with the eyes of a dragon.

  Chapter Four

  Syn gritted his teeth and jammed his fists into the pockets of his leather jacket. He never stopped scanning the crowds that filled Jackson Square, the narrow alleys between streets, and the bustling tourist epicenter. He tried to track the Baroqueth throughout the day, leaving Taryn to guard Briella until she and her friends headed out for the evening.

  Now, he wished he hadn’t asked the favor of his friend. Taryn’s needling personality had slipped his faulty mind.

  “I don’t know, man,” Taryn said. “I think there’s something going on between them. She was all comfy and cozy with him.”

  A tick started at the corner of his mouth. Syn let out a sharp breath, easing up on his jaw before he cracked his teeth. Thankfully, night had fallen and the smoke that curled up from his nostrils was hidden. Not a single person walking past gave him a second glance.

  “You know what I’ve learned in the last thirty-something years?”

  “I have a feeling you’re going to tell me whether I want to know or not,” Syn said.

  Taryn snorted. “Exactly. You said yourself that you’ve been rather reclusive until recently. Women in this realm don’t like men who follow them. They find it creepy.”

  Syn snapped his attention to his friend. Taryn shrugged.

  “Trying to make this a little easier for you. First off, if she’s Giovani’s daughter, then she’s wicked strong, both physically and mentally. Matches up with her being wicked sexy.”

  “Taryn.” The warning came on a growl that rumbled from deep in his chest. The fierce protectiveness his dragon exuded startled him when he’d first laid eyes on Briella. Not any longer. It was a natural part of him, now that he’d located his lifemate. “I’m not stalking her.”

  “Um, yes. You are.”

  Syn came to a sudden halt and squared off with Taryn, forcing his friend to come up short or barrel into him. Throngs of tourists and residents split around them without missing a step. “How? How am I stalking her? I’m watching out for her.”

  “Okay. Let me explain something in simple terms. And don’t go snapping at my face until I’m done.”

  Taryn folded his arms over his broad chest, the lightheartedness seeping away from his expression to leave a hard, unyielding man staring Syn down. There was no doubt that living among the humans had loosened his friend up, but when it came right down to it, Taryn was as fierce as every Firestorm dragon.

  “What?” Syn finally said, the single word short and sharp.

  “You’re a creeper. Or at least to any human being you’re a creeper. Standing in shadows. Watching from rooftops. Sending me to keep an eye on her all day. You’re stalking her. Being close by, but just out of sight. She senses us, and after last night, she’s jumpy. I don’t know how much she knows or how strong her gift is, but she’s aware she’s not alone. Before you burn your bridges and lose her trust without ever having the opportunity of gaining it, your best bet is to introduce yourself to her. Face to face.” Taryn leaned close to Syn and added in a low voice, “The moment she sees you, you know she won’t be running away. But you need to do it now.”

  “And how do you propose I do this? I can’t exactly knock on her door.”

  Taryn rolled his eyes and dropped his arms. “Bro, you seriously need to assimilate with the humans a bit more.”

  “It’s a moot point. Cade wants us back at The Hollow in the next few months. Alazar and Ariah have already relocated. Emery and Gabriel have returned. They leave The Hollow only when they get a lead from Cade on the possible whereabouts of Keepers. Tajan is hunting Baroqueth in hopes of estimating how many there are. There is little reason to learn all the ways of the human world at this stage.”

  “Well, if you want to win your woman, you should make at least some attempt to learn about her world. Starting with an innocent introduction.” Taryn grabbed his arm roughly and shoved him toward the river. “I know where she’s hanging tonight.”

  “Where?”

  “Wait and see, my friend.”

  * * *

  Thursday night, and the Black Duck Bar was filling up. After a satisfying meal and an official celebratory dessert at the Palace Café below, Briella couldn’t help but relax into one of the bar’s comfortable lounge chairs and sip her fruity martini. Her friends were riled and rambunctious, their chatter hard to follow amidst the noise of other patrons. Didn’t matter. For the first time since the attack, Briella felt at ease. Completely and entirely. No potent voices. No chills that warned her of eyes on her.

  She did not feel threatened, and she took another satisfying sip of her martini to toast that.

  “I still can’t believe the gallery owner is putting this whole thing together in two weeks. Two weeks. That’s crazy!” Mindy, who’d taken the night off to help celebrate Briella’s success, squeed, running the toes of her shoes across the floor. Her smile stretched far beyond what Briella was aware possible. She couldn’t help but absorb her friend’s excitement. For her. Excitement for Briella’s upcoming gallery debut. “And the director is pushing promotion. Holy crap! What about your friend’s relative? The guy who owns that other gallery? Is he helping push your debut?”

  Briella laughed. Mindy had a knack for putting the tri-state civilian to shame with the rate she spoke. She had to actually replay Mindy’s excited questions in her mind to understand what her friend wanted to know. The alcohol in Brie’s system didn’t help her cognitive case, but it sure helped the rest of her body melt into the chair.

  “Mr. Harper has really high hopes for my collection. And Bruno, my friend’s uncle, is going to support the promotion through his private venues, as well as his public ones.” Briella released a breathy chuckle. She felt like she was floating in clouds. “I still can’t believe it’s happening. It’s so surreal. To think, only a few months ago I was dreaming of this moment and now it’s here. Mr. Harper absolutely loved the paintings Mark and I brought to him this afternoon.” She nudged Mark’s arm with her elbow. “Thanks for helping me choose.”

  Mark tapped the rim of his tumbler with her martini glass and winked. There was definitely more smoldering affection in those dark eyes than she’d ever seen before.

  “Anytime, Brie. You call, I’m there.” Mark sipped his drink, his gaze never leaving hers. She had to be careful. Another drink and she might very well give into his charm against her sober-minded better judgment. She silently thanked the impulse that pushed her to shut off the flow of voices in her thoughts. She didn’t want to know what he was thinking with that look in his eyes.

  Like a hunter.

  Emma placed her wine glass on the small table their chairs were arrayed around and rubbed her hands together. “Why don’t we see who else has some good fortune coming their way, eh?” She shimmied to the edge of her seat and held out a hand. “Wh
o wants first dibs on a palm read?”

  “Oh, this should be funny.” Adrienne balked only a second before thrusting her hand into Emma’s. “I want to know when the hell I’m going to find Mr. Right. And don’t pass that ‘when you least expect it’ line at me. I get that all the time from those fortunetellers in the Square.” She snorted, then started giggling. “My biological clock is tick-tick-ticking away, Em. I’m not getting any younger.”

  “Girl, you’re thirty. That’s not old,” Mark said. He rested a hand over Briella’s. “Ready for another drink?”

  Briella glanced at her half-empty martini glass and shook her head. “I need to slow down if I have any intention of making it down those stairs without becoming free entertainment for the diners below.”

  “I’ll help you.”

  Briella arched her brows and lowered her chin. “Oh, I’m sure you would. All the way home.”

  She mentally slapped herself for that one. She’d meant the comment to be flip, but it hadn’t sounded that way as the words came out her mouth. Mark leaned over the arms of their chairs and whispered against her ear, “Anything you need, sweetheart.”

  The strangest sensation of heat and chills erupted in the pit of her stomach. By no means was it arousal, but it left her shifting in her seat and hiding a sudden blush that warmed her face.

  Keep piling it on, Mark.

  “Brie is more qualified for these things than you, Emma. Why don’t we see what the master of the universe can pull from her visions?” Mindy suggested. Briella’s eyes widened as all four friends turned hungry eyes on her. “What do you say, Brie?”

  Shaking her head before Mindy finished the question, she straightened up in her chair and tried to keep from choking on her words. “No. Not…feeling it. Not tonight.”

  Shutting off her gifts was her plan for the evening, not paying homage to the freakiness of her genetic fabric.

  “Aww, come on, Brie. You’re always so accurate,” Adrienne pleaded. “I need to know if I’ll be alone for the rest of my life.”

  Well, that one was easy. She’d already had a vision of Adrienne bumping into someone in the very near future. At least while her hair remained the rainbow splash of color she preferred now.

  “You won’t be alone for the rest of your life. I promise.” Briella finished her assurance with a deep drink. Looking at the small sip that was left, she contemplated taking Mark up on his offer of another drink. She wasn’t driving, so that wasn’t a problem, but she never liked it when her mind became fuzzy. It was pretty damn close to happy fuzz right now. “Nothing’s jumping out at me, so perhaps Emma’s palm reading might be better for tonight.”

  “Get her another drink. She’s dry,” Adrienne said, her back straightening and her chest puffing out. Mindy raised her glass.

  “Another drink for the lady of the evening!”

  “Guys, please,” Briella begged. She laughed to cover her embarrassment as other patrons cast them curious glances. “I like that whole under-the-radar thing.”

  “I’ll get the next round,” Mark offered, halfway out of his seat. Briella opened her mouth to protest, but managed nothing more than a squeak at his back before he was out of earshot.

  Emma put a hand on her arm. “You’ve been through a lot, Brie. Let go tonight, okay? You’re safe. We’ve got you.”

  An hour later, after taking Emma’s advice, Briella was beyond letting go. She needed to catch herself and put herself back to rights. She resigned herself to indulging her friends with entertainment of the witchy kind, even if the smattering of visions she saw made no sense to her intoxicated mind. Her belly hurt from laughing, her eyes burned with happy tears, and she hadn’t even realized she sipped a fresh drink until burning heat of the most unusual kind curled from the base of her spine up to her neck.

  Raw, primal arousal. She went from loose and having fun to hyperaware of her body’s sensual reaction to the unseen and the unknown. Her heartbeat quickened, a fluttering in her chest that snatched her breath and made her feel lightheaded.

  Mark’s hand on her knee didn’t escalate this new knot of sensations. If anything, she found herself balling her fists to keep from slapping his hand away in a very uncharacteristic motion of impatience.

  “Ladies, if you’ll excuse me, I must tend to a refreshing,” Briella said, the last part of her sentence coming out on a spurt of laughter. Her friends joined in as she stood up. She masked her tipsy sway with a calculated smoothing of her skirt. “Be right back.”

  One foot in front of the other. Dear heavens, you’ve got yourself in a mess.

  Briella kept her gaze low as she wove through the crowd. The utterly tenuous walk from her seat to the bathroom was almost painful, and the relief that came with arriving without face-planting was extraordinary.

  But the heat that lit every nerve and vein in her body on fire…

  Her brows furrowed and she swallowed back the urge to moan.

  To her surprise, there was no line of waiting women and she quickly took refuge in the privacy of a small stall. She needed to go home, have a coffee, drink a gallon of water, and sleep this off. She was losing control over her mind. Voices and thoughts slipped past her barricades and invaded her muddled head. She leaned back on the stall door and closed her eyes, acutely aware of her body, from how sensitive her skin felt to the overpowering urge to locate the source of her desire and find satiation in a phantom’s arms.

  Breaths shallow, she chewed her lower lip. Alcohol hampered her fight for control.

  “…protect you…”

  The strange, sultry voice filtered through the mayhem of conversations that spun in her head. She latched onto those two words, direct and strong, and prayed for strength.

  Briella left the stall, splashed some cool water on her hot cheeks—she’d spent too much time freshening up to remain alone much longer—and returned to the lounge.

  The heel of her boot slipped beneath her folding ankle. Her worst fear came to life in a slow-motion image as she lost her balance and began to fall.

  Something solid and strong came up under her arms. Her body lifted and she landed on her feet.

  “Whoa. You almost took a tumble there.”

  The fire spreading through her body exploded. A unique scent of spice laced with smoldering campfire wood filled her nostrils and surrounded her in a warm embrace.

  Steadying herself on her heels—Never wearing heels again when I drink. Oh hell, I’m never drinking again—she swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat and tilted her head back to see who had come to her rescue.

  Instantly, she hated herself for being intoxicated and looking like a fool, because the man standing so close behind her stole her breath. She had never seen a man so sinfully handsome. Ever.

  Eyes the color of deep chocolate melted into rings of amber around the pupils. A neatly trimmed scruff along his jaw and upper lip enhanced a rugged, sharp-featured face. Dark brows were an erotic addition to the mouthwatering slant of his eyes. He wore his hair, dark and soft-looking, brushed away from his face, but a lock had fallen over his forehead.

  A grin tugged the corners of full lips. Lips, she realized after an excruciating minute, she had been staring at as her own slackened and fell apart. Oh geez, had she actually started leaning into him?

  “I-I, um…” Briella lowered her head, allowing her hair to hide the fierce burn of her cheeks. “Yeah, guess I did. Thanks for rescuing me from my heels.”

  The man chuckled. Damn if that sexy gruff sound didn’t tickle up the length of her torso until she itched in more ways that she could count, all of them ones she could easily imagine this stranger scratching.

  Never, never, never drinking again.

  His grip beneath her arms loosened and his hold lowered. He kept a strong hand on her hip as he moved around her body to face her. Boy, he was awfully delectable. The top of her head barely reached his neck, even in her heels, and he was broad-shouldered and narrow-waisted and muscle-armed and…

&n
bsp; She could swoon.

  She needed an ice bath.

  You need a sober-up pill, like, an hour ago.

  The gentle touch of his fingers beneath her chin melted what little solidity she maintained. She wobbled. One of those muscled arms slipped around her, keeping her steady. When he brought her gaze to his, the bar around them disappeared outside a bubble that encompassed the two of them.

  His attention was more than casual assessment. Maybe if she weren’t so tipsy, she’d realize her libido was overheating and anything she read into his gaze was nothing more than wishful thinking on her part. His gaze probed deep, beyond her eyes and her face. He seemed to search for something she could only speculate. She enjoyed his attention.

  “Can I get you a water?” the man asked.

  “You’ve had too much to drink. I won’t leave you in such a state.”

  The voice. The same voice she’d heard in the bathroom. The voice she’d heard come from this very man’s lips.

  You can get me a kiss.

  She blinked. Did she really just think that? Did his nostrils just flare? And his eyes. Were they growing darker?

  His fingertips flexed slightly against her hip, drawing her a little bit closer. And his gaze lowered from her eyes to her mouth.

  Oh my God, he’s going to kiss me. He’s going to kiss—

  “There you are.”

  The bubble burst. Briella tried to swallow, but her throat had gone dry. To her surprise, the stranger didn’t move away. Instead, he angled himself in a subtle way that warned the intruder to back off.

  The intruder being Mark.

  “I was worried something happened. You were gone a long time. Is everything okay, sweetheart?” Mark’s attention shifted to the stranger as he spoke the endearment. His expression hardened.

  The other man simply observed Mark with a casual reserve that belied the fierceness glowing in his eyes. Only a moment ago, those same eyes were burning her up in an entirely different, more pleasing way.

  You’re a fool. You almost threw yourself at him. A stranger.

  “Everything is fine. Mark, this is…”