Make Me Burn: Fireborne, Book 2 (21 page)

Aziza bit her tongue as hard as she could and nodded politely. He gestured to the chair in front of the desk. “Sit. I insist.”

When she obeyed, he moved to sit on the edge of his desk, closer to her than she would have liked. “My job as CEO is complicated, but I enjoy it. I’m a details man. I care about all of my people, and most of my time is spent helping them to better themselves. To succeed. Our main source of income and our crown jewel is real estate, of course, but there are many enterprising werewolves who have to come through me if they want to start another type of business after their obligations as Enforcers have been fulfilled.”

“You aren’t all Enforcers?”

His chuckle was condescending. “How one-dimensional we must seem to you, Ms. Stewart, that you believe that. Particularly after all the time you’ve spent with Hillary and my son. Surely one of them informed you that while Enforcer service is required of all werewolves for a period of time—our version of the Peace Corps or community service—it is not a lifetime commitment. If, after that period, they choose to retire as my brother Devil did and seek to start a family or a business, or be of some other service to our community, they are welcome to. They are only recalled in extreme cases. Luckily, we do have a significant number of young men and women who choose to continue in their enforcement careers once their tours are finished. Brandon, for example.”

Brandon
chose
to remain an Enforcer? “I had no idea.” She’d never asked.

“Your lack of curiosity saddens me. But we are more than hunters, Ms. Stewart. We are a thriving community unto ourselves, and we contribute to humanity in myriad ways, not only by capturing and killing the unnatural spawn who infest our world, but also by protecting the environment and preserving our natural resources.”

This wasn’t Brandon’s father. Devil’s brother. It couldn’t be. This was a practical joke. An infomercial on the wonders of being wolfy.

He glanced over her shoulder and continued speaking. “Just the other day, one of my—”

“Mr. Nash, I wanted to request your permission to…” Her voice faded when his gaze returned to hers, his stare turning cold and a growl rumbling in the narrow chest beneath his suit.

“I’ll forgive you the interruption once, Ms. Stewart. Do
not
test me with another.”

Before Aziza could decide whether to apologize or light him up like the Fourth of July, the Alpha took a breath and smiled again. “Forgive me. I feel like a young man giving my first speech to the board of directors.”

Standing, he held out his arms as if to embrace the air around her. “I’m in the presence of the Vessel of Fire. A childhood story come to, if I may say so, vibrant, radiant life. The last thing you want to hear about is
my
full workload or my people’s trivial day-to-day lives. I’m sure if you had a choice you’d much rather be behind a desk than having to save the world—
three
worlds—from utter destruction. Not even I would take that kind of promotion,” he added with a laugh. Then he sobered. “In fact, though I understand the pressure of holding an entire species on my shoulders, I imagine if your choice were mine…I’d rather be dead and let the mantle pass to another than carry that kind of responsibility.”

There was something so wrong with the way he said that, she couldn’t stop herself. She let her power come to her, imagined the whisper of wind blowing through reeds and saw the feather in her mind as she sought confirmation of the truth.

Usurper. Power hungry. Liar. Do not trust this werewolf.

No surprise there.
Aziza stood up, taking a small step back.
“I don’t require your flattery, Mr. Nash, or your advice. I suppose it’s a good thing you aren’t the Fireborne, since the mantle might not shift in time to save your people as well as the human race you’ve vowed to protect from the Jiniyr.”

The Alpha curled his lip, almost unconsciously it seemed. “Ah yes, the Jiniyr. I’ve read the files. Is Razia his name of the one who killed your family? The Vessel’s nemesis? In some ways, he’s a rather anticlimactic villain, if you’ll pardon my opinion. A single Niyr who ran at the first sign of trouble. I would consider him and these Jiniyr of his more a natural evolution of the treaty than a true threat.”

“Excuse me?”

He smiled, shrugging. “I’m not saying they shouldn’t be wiped from this earth. My life’s mission would be fulfilled if I knew we’d never have to deal with the stink of Jinn or Niyr again. But looking at it from a business standpoint, it stands to reason that when a binding contract bans two parties from working against each other, an alliance would be almost inevitable for good or ill.”

“From what I understand, the treaty was formed to protect this world,” Aziza responded softly. “So it also stands to reason that if an alliance is formed for the sole purpose of breaking a binding contract and killing the people it was created to safeguard, there would be repercussions.” Namely, her.

Mr. Nash’s smile sharpened. “‘From what you understand’. An interesting choice of words.”

She really needed to get out of here before she hit him. “I’m here as a courtesy, to show you respect, Mr. Nash. Let’s stop playing this game, okay? I’ll admit I don’t know anything about werewolves and we can plainly see you don’t take the Jiniyr threat seriously, so why don’t you tell me what you want from me? Then I can do my job and let you get back to yours.”

He startled her by seizing her wrist, pulling her closer and peeling back her fingers to see the mark of the feather still burned into her palm. “I was wondering if you would insult me by using this in my presence. The archivist told me about this ability, along with the others. Mayet’s Truth, I believe? There is no reason, Aziza. The way Brandon reacts to the mere mention of your name means we’re practically family. Or we could have been, if you weren’t tainted with enemy blood and the treaty didn’t call for you to mate with a human to continue your line.”

Tainted.

Aziza gritted her teeth, sorely tempted to go four-alarm on him. The asshole seemed to know as much about what she was as she did—in fact, with his resources, he might know more—but he obviously had no idea who he was dealing with. “Let me go.”

He released her wrist. “Even if that weren’t the case, from what I’ve gathered, you and my honorable son are not exactly compatible. A fact I believe you’re aware of. I doubt any self-respecting werewolf would approve of his woman allowing herself to be chained and whipped for the amusement of others, do you? We are nothing if not a possessive people. We like to keep what belongs to us close. Brandon has more of the old ways in him then I can lay claim too. He’s a traditionalist. I can’t imagine what he’ll do when he finds out.”

She froze. He knew what happened at Underbridge? Had Natalie told him, or was another Enforcer a member—watching and waiting for Ram to screw up?

Brandon, I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you.

Fed up with his manipulation, she demanded bluntly, “You can stop now. Tell me what it will take for you to leave the exile alone and let me work with the Enforcers—or at least guarantee they won’t stand in my way—while I find you the real killers and actually save lives?”

“Poor Brandon.” The Alpha clucked his tongue. “I notice you didn’t use your leverage to protect him. Or to keep him from finding out what you do when he isn’t by your side.”

“I didn’t know he
needed
protection from his father.”

Mr. Nash nodded ambiguously. “Too late now, in any case. I appreciate your style, Aziza. Straight to the point. No fear. What it will take is you saying yes.”

Aziza narrowed her eyes. “Yes to what?”

His face transformed into what he probably imagined was his most charming expression. “A limousine, some champagne, a fancy dress and your best conversational skills and table manners. No floggers or corsets allowed.”

She raised her eyebrow and he took a step back. “A party, Ms. Stewart, tomorrow night, in your honor, and with all my lieutenants present and salivating to meet you.” He held up a hand when she opened her mouth. “The invitations have been sent, most of the guests have already arrived, and the only thing I’m missing is you.”

He may be tiny for a werewolf, but she had to admit he had a big set of balls. “What if I say no?”

The Alpha walked around his desk and sat down in his leather executive chair. “Then you would miss a wonderful evening with some of the finest people I know. There’s one man in particular I think you’d like to meet. He’s from Jordan. I understand Brandon has been communicating with him for several weeks now…something about witness testimonies and an explosion?” He shook his head. “My first thought is that it has something to do with your youngest brother. My son must be besotted indeed to have believed he could investigate such an important matter behind my back. Still, what’s done is done. Now I don’t know if you’d be interested in anything like that but, as I said, it would be your loss. In more ways than one.”

This man knew how to play his little games. And he had her. If Brandon had been talking to someone about Joseph, as his father was implying, and that someone was going to be at the party, there was no way she
wouldn’t
come. But why would the Alpha offer her information on her brother and threaten to withhold permission for her to help his people stop the Jiniyr…to get her to a party? Why would he use all
his
leverage for something so trivial?

She nodded stiffly. “May I bring guests?”

“I would be offended if spunky Aunt Penn and your companion Gregory Prophet weren’t at your side.” He paused. “More so, if anyone else was.”

Translation: Ram was not allowed. “And what, besides my fancy dress and my family, should I be bringing to this gathering?”

He leaned back in his chair, relaxed in his victory. “The Vessel, Ms. Stewart. We have to give the people what they want, wouldn’t you agree? I wouldn’t be a very good CEO if I neglected their desires. As long as you are under my roof you will be what they need you to be. The Vessel of Fire.”

“So it’s agreed? The exile is off-limits?”

He stared at her in silence for a long moment then looked down at the papers on his desk. “Never question an Alpha’s word again. You may go now, Aziza. Until tomorrow night.”

Turning without another word, she stalked out of the office. She didn’t look at Hillary on her way out, didn’t study the unique architecture as she made her way down to the lobby and outside of the building.

She was too busy trying not to explode and take the entire city of London with her. The Alpha reminded her of Razia. He made her feel the same cold ball of rage in her stomach. There was something dark and ugly inside him, she could sense it.

Usurper.
That man was not supposed to be the leader of Brandon’s people. Everything good and honorable and strong that she’d seen in the others was absent from him. He was smaller on the inside too.

God, she needed a drink.

“Stop!” When the hourglass burned into her palm and everything around her froze, she kicked off the sensible pumps and left them on the steps of the building. She shouldn’t be abusing her powers like this, but she couldn’t stand the idea of that man looking out of his tower window and laughing at her.

“Arrogant, egotistical son of a bitch!” she yelled up at the building. “I bet you look like a hairless chihuahua when you go wolfy.”

This was the man they all walked on eggshells around, the man Natalie spied for and Hillary was afraid of? This was Brandon’s biological
father
?

“Bullshit.” She walked into the nearest pub. Elbowing past the frozen patrons, she hopped over the bar and grabbed a bottle of vodka. “Bull. Shit.”

“You don’t hurt the innocent, dear. You’re Fireborne.”

“Did you know the very word Fireborne means justice for my people?”

“You have to care about all of them.”

She could hear the voices of her better angels echoing in her head, swimming around in a sea of vodka and denial, but none of that stopped her from leaning over to take the hand of a sweet-looking young woman having lunch at a café patio and place it on the firm butt of a passing waiter.

“This is justice, right? It would be criminal
not
to grab that,” she reasoned out loud. “And I do care. I’m spreading the seeds of laughter and happiness. I may as well do something productive with this ability, since the wolf boss only wants me to wave and smile and make him look good to his constituency.”

She glanced up over the rim of the sunglasses she’d “borrowed” from the other woman at the table and winced at the sunlight before noticing what the poor, handsome, soon-to-be-objectified waiter carried.

“Mmm. Coffee.
That
is what I need. What you need too, cutie,” she added as she helped herself to the lone cup on the tray. “You’ll thank me for taking this in a few minutes, trust me. The last thing you want is a lawsuit for spilling hot coffee on a customer because another couldn’t resist pinching your ass.”

He didn’t answer. Didn’t react at all. But then, she didn’t expect him to. The café, the entire street full of people, were frozen in time by her ability. The coffee had been frozen too, but the instant she touched the cup with the idea of trying to unfreeze it, the frozen wisp of steam above it was released.

She laughed. It worked. Her coffee would be the only witness to these crimes. “Confess, coffee,” she demanded. “You are delicious.”