Blaze of Secrets (Asylums for Magical Threats) (7 page)

Jaxton clenched the edge of the dresser, his eyes dangerous. But as quickly as it appeared, his

expression cleared. “Which one do you think Garrett went through?”

“Who’s Garrett?”

“My brother.”

So F-840’s name was Garrett.

She opened her mouth to explain, but snapped it shut as she realized that this was supposed to be an

information exchange and right now the scales were tipped in Jaxton’s favor. She wanted to even it out, but after that flare of danger a minute ago in Jaxton’s eyes, withholding information about his older brother might set him off.

She heard a tapping sound and looked up. Jaxton’s expression was still unreadable. “Don’t hold back

with me, Kiarra. Always tell me what you’re thinking.”

She’d better seize that offer before she lost her nerve. She raised her chin a few inches and said, “I’ve given you more information than you’ve given me, and I think that I should be able to ask another

question.”

His lips twitched, confusing Kiarra. She hadn’t said anything funny.

Jaxton stood up and took a step toward her, but she found it easier to hold her ground compared to

twenty minutes ago.

“Then ask me something,” he said.

He’d told her to say what she was thinking, so she jumped in with both feet. “What’s going to happen to

me once I finish your training?”

“Honestly?” He shrugged. “I don’t know. But, after we figure out your strengths and weaknesses,

Neena, or Aislinn—the other DEFEND co-leader—will probably give you an assignment. Whatever it is,

you’ll have DEFEND’s network at your disposal. Someone will always have your back.”

Neena deciding her fate was a scary prospect, but maybe the other person, Aislinn, would be more

normal.

From her experience, people only helped others for personal gain. Jaxton’s words were probably meant

to comfort her, but Kiarra wouldn’t fall into his trap, hoping and wishing someone would give a damn

about her.

Jaxton glanced at his watch and straightened from leaning against the dresser. “I know this is a lot to

take in and that you’re probably tired, but I need you to answer my questions about Garrett. Tell me and you’ll have the rest of the night free.”

“Do I have to stay inside this room?”

He shook his head. “Just stay inside the house. Don’t open doors without knocking, or you might not

like what you see.”

Why would he…
Oh
. Kiarra’s cheeks heated. It’d been almost ten years since she’d last seen a naked man.

He cleared his throat, which made her cheeks burn hotter. She hoped he couldn’t read her mind.

“So, which type do you think Garrett suffered through?” he asked.

Garrett’s condition was a cold slap in the face. Torture, because that was what honestly happened inside the AMT, no matter the nomenclature, would do that. “I could be wrong, but his symptoms of wild fits,

aversion to touch, and his response to that particular tune all point toward the psychological experiments.”

Jaxton raised an eyebrow. “What do they entail?”

Kiarra gave a sad smile. “I don’t know. But the guards often took bets on how long a prisoner would

last. Usually it wasn’t long.”

She peered at Jaxton, but despite her revelations about his brother, his face remained expressionless.

That was a trick Kiarra was going to have to perfect here, on the outside, too. Inside the AMT, disguising emotion was tantamount to survival, but ever since Jaxton had charged into her cell, she hadn’t been able to control her emotions like before.

Jaxton went to the door and said, “Be downstairs tomorrow at 9 a.m. We’re going to start your self-

defense training right away.”

Then he left before she could reply.

Chapter Seven

The next morning, Jaxton stood at the foot of the stairs, tapping the flat top of the newel post with his hand.

Kiarra was late.

After finding little of import last night in his intelligence backlog, in addition to only nabbing four hours of sleep, his temper was short.

Last night, Taka had wanted him to push Kiarra for more information. The man had a hunch about why

Kiarra had had a knife pressed to her wrist, but declined sharing the information until he was more certain.

When he’d tried ordering Taka to tell him anyway, Taka had said that he was keeping quiet on Neena’s

orders and Jaxton would have to take it up with her.

In their two years of working together, that had been the first time that Taka hadn’t been completely

forthright with him, which irritated Jaxton all the more.

The floor creaked from above and he looked to find Kiarra standing at the top of the stairs. Gone was

her gray baggy AMT uniform and in its place were tight black workout pants and a billowing purple shirt.

Like any straight, red-blooded male would, Jaxton gave her a once-over. As his gaze lingered on her

shapely legs, Kiarra tugged on her shirt, clearly embarrassed. He had no idea why, as any man would love to have those beauties wrapped around his waist.

Jaxton’s hand stilled on the newel post. What the fuck had happened to his ironclad discipline? That

was twice now he’d slipped in less than twelve hours. It must be his lack of sleep playing with his mind.

Jaxton motioned for Kiarra to descend the stairs, anxious to get started. Self-defense training would

help clear his mind and keep the blood in his brain. “Let’s get moving, pet. I have other things to do today.”

As expected, her mouth pinched at his words. But he’d take anger any day over seeing fear in her eyes.

When she was three steps above him, Jaxton decided training was in session. He reached out, fisted her

loose shirt, and pulled, ripping the fabric. She fell forward with a squeak, crashing into his chest.

But he’d expected that and caught her, gripping her around the waist with one arm and the back of her

neck with his free hand.

Smashed up against him, enveloped by his arm, she appeared tiny and fragile. She needed to gain at

least a stone or two before he’d clear her for any kind of field work.

The AMT’s blatant disregard for human, or rather
Feiru
,
rights was just what he needed to ignore the softness of her breasts now pressed against his chest. “The first rule of self-defense? Avoid loose clothing.

An enemy will use it to draw you close enough for an attack, a kill, or worse, to capture you. The danger usually outweighs any benefit when it comes to concealing extra weapons or explosives. In your case, don’t risk it.”

As if his voice was a trigger, Kiarra started pressing against his chest and he released her. She eased

back, her cheeks flushed. She hid her annoyance quickly, but not quickly enough. He reckoned Kiarra

would break her conditioning by the end of the month, if not sooner.

He continued, “While in training, I’m giving you special permission to say whatever comes to mind.

Call me a bastard if it helps to channel your anger. Swear like a sailor. The control of your emotions is the only way you’ll excel in the training room or out in the field.”

She stood silent, her expression unreadable. Most people would be annoyed as hell by now with her

reluctance, but Jaxton knew the basics of a successful rehabilitation. To get her to act and think without hesitation, Jaxton just needed to give her some encouragement.

He saw that the seam of her shirt was ripped on one shoulder, the band of a blue sports bra peeking out,

and knew what to do. He darted out a hand, fisted her shirt again, and pulled. But as she fell, he spun her around so that her back was to his front. Before she had the chance to struggle, he tugged at her shirt until it ripped all the way down the seam and he was able to pull it away from her body. He wrapped his arm

around her ribcage, but despite the chill in the air, her skin was almost feverish.

Tossing the rag aside, he murmured, “Come to your lessons prepared, which means no loose clothing.

If you come tomorrow with another shirt, I’ll just rip that one too. Don’t disappoint me, pet.”

For a split second, the familiar feeling of fire danced across Kiarra’s skin before fading, leaving only anger. Destroying the first new clothes she’d had in more than a decade, in addition to taking liberties with his touch, was going too far. She wanted to teach Jaxton a lesson.

The thought sobered her enough to think clearly. He had instructed her to channel her anger. She was

going to take him up on his offer.

She remembered how some of the guards had taken down, or at least incapacitated, some of the unruly

inmates inside the AMT. Maybe mimicking those moves would work.

She forced herself to relax, hoping she could catch Jaxton off guard. His hold loosened and Kiarra

threw her weight against his arm, bending down to elbow him hard in the stomach. He grunted and Kiarra

was able to push out of his grip and dash halfway up the staircase.

Her heart was racing, but somehow, she’d managed to break free—and it felt pretty damn good. She

couldn’t stop smiling.

She turned to let Jaxton know the boundaries he shouldn’t cross, but her words dried up in her throat at Jaxton’s expression.

Anger was not a strong enough word for it. But he’d been the one to give permission, and she wasn’t

going to let him scare her again. Taking a deep breath through her nose, Kiarra lifted her chin an inch and said, “You’re the one who wanted me to do whatever it took, and I did. Next time, don’t underestimate me just because I’m small.”

Without a word, he started climbing the stairs. Every muscle in her body screamed to get moving, but

she held her ground. Somehow she knew that if she didn’t stand her ground now, she never would.

He stopped three stairs below her, their eyes now level, and she noticed the unusual ring of gold around his iris.

Jaxton reached his arm out toward her, but Kiarra didn’t move; at least not until he brushed his fingers across her back and she shivered at the ticklish warmth. He voice was low, almost menacing. “How did you get these scars?”

Shit.
In the heat of the moment, Kiarra had forgotten about them. The scars were ten years old and whatever pain she’d endured at the time had helped shape Kiarra to where she was today.

But judging by the expression on Jaxton’s face, he didn’t view them as nonchalantly.

Telling him the whole story would not only upset him further, but would bring back memories best

forgotten, possibly undoing all the hard work she’d done so far.

But Kiarra was smart enough to know that Jaxton wouldn’t let her walk away without some sort of

answer, so she said, “I would think it was obvious. I got them while inside the AMT.”

Something flitted over his face, and he drew his fingers away from her back. His green-gold eyes

narrowed. “You’re under my protection now, but unless I know what we’re facing, I won’t be able to

protect you. I need details, Kiarra.”

Hearing that someone wanted to protect her was new—foreign even. But, as much as she wanted to

believe it, not even her own parents had fought to keep her. There was no way a man she’d only known for two days would risk his life to save hers.

Besides, information was all she had to offer. If she gave it up easily, she’d have nothing to bargain with

later. “Then teach me to defend myself, and you won’t have to worry about me.” Jaxton looked unconvinced at her demand, and that irritated her. “So, will you train me or not?”

He looked at her for a long moment before nodding. “I will find out the truth, Kiarra, but right now I’m more concerned about you being able to defend yourself. Follow me.”

Jaxton turned without another glance, and Kiarra struggled to keep up with his long strides.

As Jaxton led Kiarra to the makeshift basement-turned-training-room, he repeatedly clenched and

unclenched his right hand, wanting to punch someone. The AMT bastards had
whipped
her.

He’d only seen a fraction of the scar tissue on her back, peeking out from the straps of her sports bra, but the scars had been raised, and thick, which meant that someone had deliberately wanted to leave a

mark. The pattern suggested more than one session.

Kiarra was providing Jaxton a closer look at what was really happening inside the AMT, and while it did

nothing to help his blood pressure, the revelations kept giving him ideas of how to get the general
Feiru
public on DEFEND’s side. But he needed more information, and proof to offer. Kiarra wasn’t talking much

yet, but he was nothing if not tenacious.

All he could do for now was to make her a little less vulnerable. While he would slowly get her into

shape, it would be months before she could take an opponent in hand-to-hand combat. His best option was

to train Kiarra on how to use her elemental magic.

Jaxton wasn’t a first-born, and had no latent abilities that he was aware of, but he’d worked for years

with three first-borns who were highly skilled in elemental magic and he’d learned enough to get a novice’s training started.

He stopped on the mat in the middle of the room. Kiarra finally caught up with him, looked at him

expectantly, albeit with a scowl, and said, “Well? What’s first?”

The stunt on the stairs must’ve triggered her true colors, allowing them to the forefront. Time would tell if they stayed front and center or retreated as soon as Kiarra was out of his sight.

They stood a few feet apart, giving Jaxton his first real look at Kiarra in nothing but a sports bra and stretchy black pants. He still couldn’t believe this tiny woman had knocked the wind out of him not five minutes ago. “Right. Size and muscle aren’t everything. You need to play to your strengths. Some people

have speed, others quick reflexes. In your case, you need to learn how to control your elemental magic.”