Pyromancist (Seven Forbidden Arts 1)

They went several miles into the sea before they pulled up next to a big luxury yacht. Many such yachts populated the Gulf during the holiday months of July and August. An unusually tall man with a shaved head and eye patch, all muscles and teeth, waited on the deck. A diamond stud glittered in one ear. His coffee-colored skin shone in the sun, making him look like a cross between an African god and a pirate. Muscles rippled under an unbuttoned linen shirt as he extended a hand to help them onboard. Designer ripped jeans hugged his narrow hips.

He pulled Maya onto the deck, but when he reached for Clelia, Joss said, “I’ve got her, Bono.”

Joss kept his hands on her hips as he guided her up the ladder from behind. Without introducing her to the man he called Bono, he led her around the deck and took her down a few steps into a generously sized lounge.

A striking man with a red birthmark on his cheek sat in a lounge chair reading a tablet. Dressed entirely in white, he looked like he’d escaped from heaven.

Upon their entry, the man got up and leaned on a cane with a brilliant stone head. Everything about him captured and demanded attention.

Taking her fingers lightly in his, he kissed her hand without touching his lips to her skin. “Clelia, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Cain, your host. Has Joss been treating you well?”

Clelia glanced at Joss, who stood close behind her. He gave her a hard look.

“Maybe we’ll talk later,” Cain said, following the direction of Clelia’s eyes. “I apologize for your detainment, but unfortunate circumstances necessitated the measure. However I’m happy to welcome you onboard our safe house. I dare say you’d feel less of a prisoner here than on land.” He smiled, but there was no mistaking the subtle warning underlying the gesture. “The sea is, after all, a prison in its own right. At least you’ll have the liberty of moving around.”

Clelia looked at the flat surface of the water through the window. To some, the ocean seemed like a prison, holding a boat hostage in countless miles of surrounding water, but for someone like her, who’d grown up with the sea and been taught to read its tides like a map, it was an opportunity for freedom, to escape. She said nothing however as Cain waved at Maya, who waited by the door, to enter.

“Maya,” Cain said when she walked up to them, “escort Clelia to her cabin and help her settle in.”

Joss took a step in Clelia’s direction, his jaw tight, but Cain lifted a finger and shook his head.

When Maya took Clelia’s arm, Joss blocked their path.

“Joss,” Maya said, arching a brow, “you’re crowding us.”

Clelia regarded Maya from under her lashes. The cut on her lip hadn’t healed yet. Joss flexed his fingers, his silver eyes mercurial in their brooding intensity.

“Joss,” Cain said, “you’re forgetting your manners.”

Joss didn’t budge. It seemed he hadn’t even heard Cain’s rebuke.

Maya cocked a hip. “Clelia and I are just going to have a girl talk. Sometimes women need some space.”

Joss stared at Clelia, looking as if he was trying to make up his mind. Slowly, his shoulders relaxed. He didn’t move his eyes from her as he addressed Maya. “You remember what I said?”

Maya gave him a sweet smile. “Perfectly.”

Only then did Joss step aside.

They went back upstairs and took another set of steps at the backend of the yacht that took them to the cabins below deck. The door of the first cabin stood open. Bono lounged on one of two single beds, a tablet in his hands. He saluted when they passed. There were four doors all together, which meant the yacht could probably sleep eight people.

Maya brought her to the last cabin. “Lann and Bono are sharing, and you, Joss, and I each have our own cabin. Cain has the master suite on the upper deck next to the lounge and the kitchen. Cain asked me to give you a tour, but this is pretty much it. Not much else to see.”

She’d expected to be tied up or handcuffed again, at the very least sleeping under Maya’s wakeful eye. “You’re letting me sleep on my own?”

“Unless you want to share with Joss.”

Clelia’s cheeks burned. Was she that transparent?

“The attraction between the two of you is obvious,” Maya said, answering the unspoken question. She opened an adjoining door to reveal a shower and toilet. “Do you and Joss have a romantic history?”

“No,” she said too quickly, then added, “Not that it’s any of your business.”

“Don’t worry. Answering personal questions is optional. Not so where Erwan is concerned.” Maya pointed at the bed. “Sit.”

Holding her breath for the interrogation she felt coming, Clelia sat down on the narrow cot.