Pyromancist (Seven Forbidden Arts 1)

She didn’t trust him, not for a minute. “Where are Maya and Lann?”

“Working.” He walked to the minibar and took out a bottle of water.

“Another mission?”

“Yes.” Unscrewing the cap, he held it to her.

Automatically, she took it. “You’re not?”

“I took a sabbatical.”

“What about Bono?”

He narrowed his eyes. “Why do you ask about him?”

“You took a holiday to come looking for me. This isn’t one of your missions.” The bottle dented under the pressure of her fingers. “This is personal.”

He picked up the phone. “Any preferences, or can I order for you?”

“What are your intentions? What are you planning on doing with me?”

He held her gaze, his expression flat as he ordered two Caesar Salads, steaks, French fries, and a bottle of Pinotage. When he hung up, she was still standing with the menu and water in her hands.

“The food will be here soon. Have that shower you wanted. We’re leaving after lunch.” Not waiting for her reply, he settled on the sofa with a tablet in his hands.

“At least tell me where you’re taking me.”

He lifted his eyes to her, the color cold like the mist over a lake. “I’ll tell you what you need to know.”

She didn’t like the look on his face. “What are you up to, Joss?”

“You have ten minutes.” To emphasize the threat, he checked his watch.

Bristling, she left the water and menu on the table before escaping to the bathroom. Under the spray of the water, she tried to think, but as long as she didn’t know what Joss was scheming, she couldn’t come up with a new plan of escape. She’d have to take it moment by moment, and use the first opportunity that arose.

After a quick shower, she wrapped a towel around her body and another around her hair. The clothes she’d been wearing smelled of stale smoke and the beer one of the customers had spilled on her. She didn’t have a choice but select one of the outfits Joss had brought. She grabbed the first dress and pulled it on in the bathroom. It was the red one. After brushing out her hair, she stepped back into the lounge.

A table set with dishes had been wheeled in. Joss stood in front of the window, staring into the distance.

He turned at her entry, taking her in. “The dress looks good on you.”

She avoided answering by busying herself with pulling on the boots he’d packed.

When she’d done, he held out a chair at the table. “Have a seat.”

It was an order, not a request. Choose your battles, Clelia. She padded over.

He seated her before taking the opposite chair. “I paid you a compliment. You owe me a thank you.”

“Thank you,” she said with spite.

“You’re welcome.”

She wanted to slap the patronizing smile off his handsome face, but she said nothing.

“Do you like the dress?” He rubbed a thumb over his lips while studying her. “You only have to say if you want something else.”

She blew out a breath. “I don’t need you to buy my clothes. I can manage just fine on my own.”

“I like buying your clothes.”

The confession stilled her. Big, strong, capable Joss had never had anyone to take care of since the death of his family, no one he could call his own. As sexually experienced as he was with women, in an emotional way, he was on virgin territory. That was to say if he was capable of emotions other than anger and vengeance, which she started to doubt.

He served her wine, but only water for himself. In the silence that followed, their meal progressed in a strained atmosphere with Joss seeming preoccupied. The food was tasty, but she’d had a burger at the bar before her shift had ended and she wasn’t hungry. She only ate to refuel her body and build her strength for whatever awaited. The sooner she could escape again, the better.

When she finished and left her napkin next to her plate, Joss forced a smile. “Would you like me to ring for coffee?”

“No, thank you.” She took in the tight set of his jaw and the deep groove between his eyebrows. Her stomach clenched with alarm. That look on him was never good. “What’s wrong?”

“I haven’t been good company,” he said with another false smile.

She wasn’t falling for his fake humor. “You can’t keep me in the dark.”

His eyes tightened. “I can keep you anywhere I like.”

“I deserve the truth, don’t I?”

He considered her for a moment before saying, “Before I left France, we tracked Lupien to Spain where we lost his trail. He’s on the move again. According to Interpol, he left Spain. I checked my tablet while you were in the shower.”

“What worries you? The fact that he’s on the move, or that you don’t know where he’s going?”

“He’s coming after you.”

It wasn’t new information, but it still hit her like a punch in the face.