Bound by Flame (28 page)

Enough
.

She had to get
something
out. Spill bits and pieces until the whole thing fell out.

If Riana and Merilee lost faith in her, didn’t want her as their third, she’d have to find a way to cope with that. It wasn’t like she could pretend the truth away.

Cynda’s jaw loosened, and tears spilled onto her cheeks. Everything in her tried to balk as she made herself say, “You don’t have to go to the Mothers. They already came to me and chewed me a new asshole over Nick.”

Riana lowered her hands, clearly shocked. “What?”

At the same time, Merilee said, “Well, no wonder you’ve been ass-backward and upside down. Why did they stick their noses into this? I thought we worked out the whole Curson-Sibyl issue with Creed and Riana.”

“Motherhouse Ireland is stricter than Motherhouse Russia about relationships.” Cynda hugged herself and refused to let her teeth chatter as the cold grew inside her. “They’re stricter about everything. I guess they have to be. Mother Keara has always kept a tight watch on all of us.”

After a moment of breathing and centering, Riana walked away from the gym door, toward Cynda, stopping just a few feet away. “I know Mother Keara means a lot to you, honey, but she can’t tell you who to love.”

“Yeah, well, she did.”
Great. I’m crying like a friggin’ baby now.
“She’ll—she said she would pitch me out if I pursue anything with Nick. Burn away my connections to fire. I couldn’t be part of this triad. I wouldn’t be a Sibyl anymore.”

“Sonofabitch.” Merilee crossed the gym floor until she, too, stood directly in front of Cynda. “Why didn’t you come to us right away?”

“I didn’t want—” Cynda began, but Riana cut her off.

“That’s not right.” Riana rubbed the top of her nose, the way she always did when she was trying to keep her thoughts together. “I won’t have it. We won’t allow it, Cynda. Your heart belongs to you.”

Merilee nodded. “We’ll defend that to the death.”

Cynda wiped her eyes with the backs of her hands and looked at two of the most important people in the world to her. Their reactions brought a little warmth back to her heart, shored her up a fraction, and reinforced the decision she had made to leave her feelings for Nick alone. “Thanks, but I’m not risking it.”

“The night Mother Keara dropped that bomb in your lap”—Merilee rolled her eyes skyward as if to say,
of course
—“that’s when your fire started going out, isn’t it? That’s when you lost your sparks.”

“You noticed.” Cynda’s whole body tensed. She stared at her feet because she couldn’t make herself look at her triad sisters when she felt so completely ashamed.

“Jake was able to snatch you because you couldn’t call your fire.” Riana’s sentence came out slow, overpronounced, like she couldn’t believe she missed that little detail.

Cynda shrugged, still doing an intense study of her own toes. “I might have caught him by surprise and gotten an advantage. By the time I finally got a blaze going, he absorbed every flame.”

“You didn’t tell us about your fire.” Riana looked angrier than Cynda had ever seen her. “If we had known, we would have watched you closer. We wouldn’t have let you go on that raid in the first place!”

The ground started a slow, low rumbling, and shook again once, hard enough to jerk Cynda sideways. Rocks tapped to the floor. An exercise ball rolled past her ankles as she recovered her balance.

When she looked up, Merilee was right in her face, blue eyes blazing and narrow. “I cannot believe you walked into a battle with your fire malfunctioning and put yourself at risk like that.”

She smacked Cynda in the shoulder with her fist.

Hard.

“Ow!” Cynda grabbed her arm as pain radiated down to her fingertips. “That’s gonna bruise.”

She tried on reflex to pop Merilee back with a good-sized fireball, but once again, nothing happened. No fizzle, no sizzle, not even a tiny pop.

More tears streaked down Cynda’s face. A scream of frustration welled in her depths, but she bit it back.

“Don’t you know you’re important to us?” Merilee’s voice cracked. She looked away and wiped her eyes, then stepped to the side to give Cynda a little space.

Riana was the one studying her feet now, slowly shaking her head. Her shoulders slumped, as if Cynda had kicked her right in the gut.

“I didn’t tell you about the Mothers because I didn’t want to worry you or make you feel like you had to watch after me to keep me from doing something stupid.” Cynda took Riana by the arms, dying twice inside from the awful look of disappointment on her triad sister’s face. “I didn’t want you two caught in the middle.”

“Bullshit.” Riana’s dark green eyes got darker with her anger. “That’s where we belong, in the middle with you. Didn’t you learn anything last fall, when this triad almost fractured? Merilee and I
are
your real family. We will
never
abandon you, especially through something like this.”

Cynda let go of Riana, trying to absorb what she’d just said.

Her heart heard it, grabbed on to it, but her mind didn’t want to believe, just couldn’t quite accept the wonder of that reality.

Merilee’s hands gripped Cynda’s shoulders and gave her a squeeze as she said, “What Motherhouse Ireland doesn’t know won’t hurt them. If they find out and try to strip your powers, we’ll hide you away, and hide with you—and never regret it. We’ll appeal to Russia and Greece.” Another squeeze, this time almost painful, but perfect at the same time. “We’ll find a way to get through it no matter what, Cynda. Nothing but death will separate the three of us. They absolutely cannot use that threat against you, ever again.”

“Triad first, above all else,” Riana said, only this time, the words didn’t stab Cynda down deep. “That includes Mother Keara and Motherhouse Ireland.”

She watched as Riana held out her arm and pushed up her sleeve to reveal the Sibyl’s mark. Mortar, pestle, and broom, etched across that dark crescent moon. “That’s what this means. We’re connected, like these symbols. Always. Forever. It’s time you let yourself believe that.”

Merilee came around to stand beside Riana, and Cynda glanced from one to the other, absolutely unable to speak.

They were waiting for her to say something, but she didn’t have the power to generate a single sound.

Did she believe what Riana just said?

Could she?

And even if she did accept that Riana and Merilee would never turn on her or leave her behind, how could she do anything that would consign her chosen family to a lifetime of running and hiding from other people
they
loved?

Riana stared at her. So did Merilee. Waiting. Patient. Refusing to let her off the hook or leave her alone, or for one instant let her believe that one day, they wouldn’t be here, right in her face when she needed them to be.

A distant memory sounded in Cynda’s mind. Of all things, Mother Keara’s voice, from the night Cynda met her.

Sibyl,
Mother Keara had whispered as she squeezed Cynda’s fingers and drew her closer to an understanding of her true identity, her true power.

…S-i-b-y-l. Say the word, child…

“Sibyl,” she whispered in the present, remembering that long-ago night, and how she wished her words had been loud enough to echo and scare that mean Sister Julia out of her mind.

As it had that sad, wonderful night, Cynda’s skin tingled.

Flames pulsed in her chest and spread down inside her arms to her hands. At the same time, her thighs and legs and feet heated to near boiling—

And it felt absolutely wonderful.

My heat. My fire!

Smoke curled slowly from the back of her neck as the fire inside soothed her, strengthened her, helped her find her words and tell her triad sisters, “I believe you.”

Merilee clapped once when she saw the smoke, and smiled at Cynda.

Riana’s expression lightened, then grew even more troubled. “I’m afraid it won’t last. Not if you’re shutting down what you feel for Nick.”

“It’s obvious he needs you,” Merilee said. “You need him, too.”

Caught up in the blissful sensations of her fire, Cynda wanted to rage and stomp and say she didn’t need Nick, that she’d be just fine without him, without risking outright war with the Mothers. A childish part of her wanted to say she didn’t need
anybody,
but she knew that wasn’t true. She needed Riana and Merilee, and she needed her Mothers and Sibyl sisters in Ireland.

At least Riana and Merilee would stand by her, because what Merilee said was true. She needed Nick. She could survive with her triad sisters and him, even if she had to forfeit the rest. Without him, there was just nothing inside.

Without him, the fire would snuff right out again, she had no doubt.

“I do need Nick,” Cynda admitted, but Riana was already talking, going on about how Nick’s mental discipline and self-control was good for Cynda, about how he could help her with control and focus.

“And you can help him get through this whole Jake thing,” Merilee added. “Like Ri will help Creed.”

“I don’t think there’s any helping a man get through killing his brother.” Cynda hugged herself again at the thought.

Her words hung in the air between the three of them until a deep bass rumbled, “I’ll shoot Jake if I have to. I’ve said that before, and I meant it.”

Warm chills broke out across Cynda’s skin, followed by aches in her chest and belly. When she turned her gaze toward the gym door, there stood Nick. He had changed into black jeans and a black sleeveless T-shirt, and his hair hung over one shoulder, tied into a loose ponytail.

The agony and challenge in his eyes riveted Cynda.

She wanted—needed—to look away from him, but she couldn’t. She wanted to run to him, hold him, kiss him until she banished his pain, and hers, too—but that wasn’t possible either, was it?

Riana’s and Merilee’s words jumbled through Cynda’s mind, banging against her own realizations about the emotional source of her fire.

It really wasn’t an option to keep ignoring her emotions, or pretending they would go away, was it? She couldn’t live her whole life trying not to cause serious trouble, in hopes no one would leave her again.

Cynda glanced from Riana to Merilee, both of whom stared back at her, as if willing her to get the point, and fight for her right to love freely, live freely.

She could have Nick.

She
would
have him, and she’d stay a Sibyl, too.

She’d take on Mother Keara and all of Motherhouse Ireland if she had to, damn them straight to hell.

This man was right for her.

Cynda knew it. The fire in her soul knew it, too.

Riana picked up the “dishes” and walked slowly toward the door to the stairs, making small talk to Nick as she went.

Merilee didn’t bother stammering or offering social pleasantries. She just gave Cynda a
Do what’s right for you
glare, then whisked past Nick and out of the gym, towing Riana behind her.

Riana had the presence of mind to close the door as they went.

18

Remnants of smoke drifted slowly around the gym, making everything gray and vague.

The only thing Cynda could hear was her own unsteady breathing. The only thing she could smell was fire and smoke and earth and wind and hints of ocean and musk.

Nick.

The only thing she could see, feel, or sense was Nick.

He stayed where he was, muscled arms folded, gazing at her with his black eyes.

“How much did you hear?” she asked, her voice still shaky, her essence wrung out from everything she had just been through.

“I heard you say you aren’t in love with me,” he said in a quiet tone.

If I slap myself, he’ll think I’m crazy.
Cynda’s throat went dry. She shut her eyes. Made herself open them. Thought one more time about slapping herself.

She was standing alone in a closed basement, only a few yards from the one man who could cost her everything—and she was ready to pay that price. Now she had to make him understand. Now she had to make him believe it.

After running her fool-stupid mouth.

Couldn’t something ever be easy? Please? Just
one
thing?

Before she could begin to try to clean up the mess she’d made with her own words, Nick pinned her again with his intense gaze. “I also heard your triad sisters say they’d stand behind you. And I
think
I heard you say that you need me.” He shrugged. “That’s something. I’ll take it.”

“There’s more.” Cynda got out the sentence, but Nick clearly wasn’t finished rattling her down to bones and marrow.

“Riana and Merilee said that your heart is your own.” The force of his gaze reached across the space between them and touched her everywhere at once. “Is that true, Cynda?”

Her muscles felt weak, but her voice was strong when she answered, “Yes.”

She couldn’t tear her gaze away from the man. Her heart beat so hard and fast she was sure everyone in the townhouse could hear it. Heat flowed up and down her arms, across her shoulders, and dropped low, licking across her taut nipples, and lower, streaming down her belly, and lower, to that aching center between her legs. A hundred little blazes broke out across the gym’s stone floor and danced like candle flames.

The pain in Nick’s eyes doubled. “I don’t want to take anything away from you. I won’t see you hurt.”

More flames grew at her wrists and fingers. She didn’t even try to draw them back into the expanding pool of heat inside her.

“When I said I didn’t love you, I was lying—to myself more than anyone, because I was scared.” Cynda risked a step toward him, and he didn’t back away. “I’m sorry.”

Nick looked stunned for a moment, like she had slapped him across both cheeks. The lines of his face softened. “I understand, firebird. I know you can’t, we can’t act on what we’re feeling until I catch that plane and talk to the Mothers.”

Smoke streamed away from her body as she worked to sort out his response.