Pyromancist (Seven Forbidden Arts 1)

“They don’t know I’m here.” Well, they knew he was in South Africa, but not that he was with her.

Her lips parted before she clamped them together, probably deciding if she should believe him. After another beat, she asked, “Cain didn’t send you?”

“No one knows you’re alive.” Taking her wrist, he pulled her to the edge of the bed. “I suggest we get a move on. Lupien must be close on your tail.”

She sucked in a breath. “I’ve been careful.”

“I found you, didn’t I?”

Her face paled.

“Let’s go,” he said, dragging her to her feet.

She held back. “Not until you tell me where.”

“You lost that right when you bailed on me, little witch.”

“Wait.” She dug in her heels. “I came home from work only a few hours ago. At least let me have a shower.”

He glanced at the cubicle with the cracked tiles and molded shower curtain. “If you need a shower, you can have it at my hotel.”

There was a lot of wasted time to make up for, a whole fucking lot she owed him, and he was looking forward to remembering it this time.Chapter 23With white marble pillars and winged cupids painted in pastels and gold on the ceilings, the Westcliff Hotel was impressive, but Joss hadn’t chosen the place for its decor. He’d picked it for its security that included guards around the clock and a fingerprint sign-in at the door.

He brought his little witch straight to his suite, which was ten times the size of the room in which she’d lived for the past four months. The comparison made him clench his fists. She was his responsibility. Poverty wasn’t a fate she’d suffer with him. When she’d run, she’d taken away his right to take care of her. The jump had been daring and irresponsible. Didn’t she know how easily she could’ve died? Didn’t she realize how lucky she was Lupien hadn’t found her first?

Pushing away the dark thoughts, he pulled open the closet. “I brought your clothes.”

Accusation burned in her dark eyes. “Were you that sure of finding me?”

She shouldn’t expect anything less of him. “Of course.”

“I see,” she said in a flat voice, trailing her fingers over the dresses on the hangers. “What now?” She turned back to pin him with a gaze. “Why am I here?”

“Show me,” he said, advancing on her.

She backed up into the clothes, all but falling into the closet. “Show you what?”

He towered over her, not giving her the reprieve of space. Her defiance made it difficult to shed the anger the idea of losing her had ignited. The fear. “Your art.”

Her chest rose and fell with rapid breaths. “I can’t.”

“You can’t what, witch?” he asked, gripping the shelf above her head and leaning in.

“I can’t do it.” She ducked underneath his arm and darted past him.

He let her get away. For now. Smiling to himself, he straightened and turned.

She stood with her back to him, facing the balcony doors. “I don’t even know if…”

“If what?” he asked, unable to stop himself from moving closer. Her pull on him was magnetic, her spell black magic.

“I don’t know if it was me.”

He frowned. “If what was you?”

She spun around. “If I started the fires.”

“What are you talking about?”

Shaking her head, she looked away. “Nothing.”

In one step, he was in front of her. Judging by her flinch when he gripped her chin and turned her face back to him, he’d been less gentle than he intended.

“No more lies,” he said through thin lips. “Your life is at stake, and so is mine.”

She pulled away, escaping his touch. “I didn’t ask you to rescue me.”

“Do you have any idea what would’ve happened if I didn’t find you first?” Each word was measured. “You could’ve died ten times over already.”

“What do you expect me to say? Thank you?”

For the love of the gods, she was an obstinate little witch. He wanted to pull her over his lap, push up that too-short skirt, and spank her pink, like she deserved. If only her blood didn’t lie, he could’ve settled this easily enough.

Frustration welled up in him. “We’re running out of time. I have ways of extracting information, but I prefer not to use them on you. Now make that pretty mouth useful and tell me the truth for once.”

Her manner was hesitant as she studied him. He bet her mind was working at a mile a minute, trying to get ahead of him in the game, but it was already checkmate for her.

“Nothing you say will change your fate,” he said, “so you may just as well go ahead and tell me.” He added in a sinister tone, “One way or another, I will find out.”

The silence dragged on for another few seconds before she finally said, “A month before you came, at the same time the fires started, I started having a dream, the same dream, and whenever I dreamt it, I walked in my sleep.”