Make Me Burn: Fireborne, Book 2 (37 page)

The woman who’d been standing still and silent as a statue in the circle of blood lifted her head and spoke. “The exile lives.”

Her voice was painfully familiar.

Razia patted her shoulder. “You could go back to your original plan if you’d like. The Jinn will kill him when they find the book they think is the one we were looking for in his possession, even if the Enforcers don’t. Soon enough you will be free of your pain. You deserve no less after all you have done to further our cause.”

“
He
promised me Ram would die.” The woman turned and Aziza felt as if her heart had been ripped from her chest. “I cannot serve him completely, cannot do what must be done for him—for her—if I’m not whole.”

Shev.

When she moved Aziza could see the small woman who’d been hidden by her body. The crying woman wrapped in iron and kneeling in the circle of dried blood. “But then, if he still lives I can use our connection to stay close to the Fireborne, and then only if all eyes are not fixed on us. Which means I will need to kill the Jinn traitor who attempted to frame Ram and worked with the Jiniyr. Bring back her head on a platter.”

Ram’s youngest sister Hania? Shev had betrayed Ram, Aziza, her people…and now this?

“Don’t worry, dearest Shev. And don’t kill her yet. He may find a use for her. We have played our parts just as he wanted. I was a focus of her hate and you her love. Both of us succeeded admirably. But he is close now. Close to releasing her from her eternal prison and finding the Fireborne’s youngest brother before she does, to ensure there is no potential for the line to continue. Soon our work will be at an end.”

West was shaking her and Ram was beside her, calling her name. “Aziza? Aziza, you need to stop screaming.”

“How?” she cried. “How can I?” How could
she
? Shev was Ram’s
tau’ma
. Closer than family. She’d helped Aziza. Helped her understand her powers. She’d cared about them. Only she hadn’t cared. She was Jiniyr. That was why she’d stood by and watched Harash nearly kill Penn. Why she’d left. How could she have fooled them all this time?

And how could she tell Ram about both Shev and Hania without it destroying him?

“No.” She fell to her knees and both men came down with her, holding her and offering comfort.

West’s voice was soothing. “Visions are not always what we expect, but they show us what we need to know. You’re closer to the Mayet now than the Zhaman herself. It may have been more realistic than you’re used to. Just breathe.”

More realistic. More shattering.

Joseph will be at your side at
 
the end.

Joseph needed to be at her side now. And Shev needed to burn. “West, we’re going to need a keeper’s safe house in Bahrain and you’re probably going to want to call my biographer and traveling librarian to see if he can help. I refuse to sit on my thumbs and wait for destiny while my brother is in danger.”

West stood. “You saw that? Joseph in danger?”

She nodded grimly. “And more. Razia isn’t the one in charge, but I’ll know who is soon enough.”

She had to save her brother from the mysterious “him” Shev and Razia had referred to, and if she could get to her in time, she had to save Ram’s sister from Shev. For some reason she knew their search would start where it all began. Home.

She needed to find that amulet her father had shown her in her vision. It meant something. She had to focus on that. Not on the betrayal. Not on the loss.

You are more.

She was. She could feel it.

If they weren’t scared of her before, they would be soon.

About the Author

Best-selling, award-winning romance author R.G. Alexander has been called “a true storyteller” who creates “complex, humorous and heartbreaking characters” and vast and expansive worlds. She has written over twenty books in the paranormal, sci-fi, fantasy and contemporary erotic romance genres. She is also a founding member of The Smutketeers, an author-formed group blog dedicated to promoting fantastic writers and a positive view of female sexuality.

She has lived all over the United States, studied archaeology and mythology, been a nurse and a vocalist, and now? A writer who dreams of vampires, witches and airship battles, and feels lucky every day that she gets to share her stories with her readers. She is happily married to a man known affectionately as the Cookie—her best friend, research assistant and the love of her life. Together they hope to someday tame the wild Roux-Ga-Roux that has taken over their home.

To find out more, visit her website
www.rgalexander.com
or follow her on twitter @
RG_Alexander

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Regina in the Sun

Lux in Shadow

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Midnight Falls

Wicked3

Wicked Sexy

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Shifting Reality

My Shifter Showmance

My Demon Saint

Fireborne

Burn With Me

Coming Soon:

Burn Me Down

She walks a tightrope between light and dark. Danger and passion. Obsession and love…

Burn With Me

© 2013 R.G. Alexander

Fireborne, Book 1

Aziza Jane Stewart is living on borrowed time, and making a few mistakes in London seems like a good way to go out with a bang. But when two compelling strangers draw her into an ancient conflict, she realizes her curse isn’t about death at all…it’s about the power within her.

The sexy giant following her says he can smell trouble on her skin, the smokeless fire and magic of the demons he was born and bred to hunt. Brandon may be an enforcer, but his reaction to her is anything but adversarial. Ram, her new Jinn shadow, will do whatever it takes to come between them, and he’s just as hard for Aziza to resist.
 

When her dark family legacy burns to the surface, whom can Aziza trust? The alpha male who pushes all her hot buttons, the Jinn who seduces her in dreams, or the emerging Fireborne within? As danger circles closer, she must learn to embrace her newfound powers—and trust someone with her heart—before she becomes the final casualty.

Warning: Explicit content, magic, danger, voyeurism, chains, a secret ménage and carnal deeds of devilish debauchery at every other turn. Basically…fasten your seatbelts and get ready to burn.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Burn With Me:

Aziza turned down a smaller road and saw it in the distance, the building that held what she’d been looking for. It wasn’t her usual adrenaline-pumping attraction, but the instant Penn told her about it, she’d known she wanted to come here at some point today. St. Dunstan-in-the-East. A bombed-out ruin of a church that, instead of being demolished, built over and forgotten the way it would have been in the States, had been turned into an enchanted Eden.

Surprisingly, there weren’t many tourists nearby. Good. Maybe that meant she could find a free bench for her and Greg to enjoy their lunch.

No one stopped her when she walked up the steps and through the door to enter…
heaven
.

She gasped and picked up her pace, whirling around as she tried to take in everything at once. Penn had told her, but it was so much better than she’d imagined. It was a moment out of time. A magical place in a world ruled by fairies and daydreams instead of ordinary humans. She could still see modern glass buildings through the old, beautifully arched windows, but inside? It was a wonderland. The garden was alive and vibrant, exotic trees and flowering plants and vines growing up the walls to create a fairytale scene just for her.

She walked up a few steps and looked around. No one was here. Her aunt said people came here for lunch all the time, but today it seemed abandoned. She wasn’t disappointed, just thankful for her good fortune.

For a moment she let herself imagine this was her spot. Hers alone. The floral scent mixed with—she inhaled—surprising traces of pineapple belonged to her. And the circle of benches perfect for reading or just being? All for her.

Aziza’s garden.

A beam of soft sunlight speared through an arched skeleton of a doorway farther down, framing what might be the perfect spot to sit and wait. It was secluded. A lower window with trees blocking the view just enough that she couldn’t see the outside world and, unless it was really looking, it couldn’t see her.

She lifted her flowing, white eyelet skirt out of the way and pulled herself up onto the window ledge, straddling the sturdy impromptu seat without hesitation. A leg in both worlds. She smiled at the whimsical thought.

Looking down at the bunched fabric in her fists turned her smile rueful.

Talk about flights of fancy. She’d dressed for today with a purpose that was almost too embarrassing to admit to herself.

Because the man in her dreams last night had told her to.

He’d been so forceful, and so damn pretty that she hadn’t been able to resist. She’d seen herself wearing it after he asked her to put it on—her white eyelet skirt and matching off-the-shoulder peasant blouse. It wasn’t her usual style. And snow white certainly wasn’t her color. Not anymore. But he was adamant.

It made her skin look like caramel, he’d whispered. Made her eyes glimmer like jewels. “Wear it for me,” he’d whispered. “And I’ll know you want more of what I’m about to give you. That you’re ready.”

And damn, had he given. Made her beg. Aziza shivered. That had to have been one of the more erotic dreams of her life. And the kinkiest. Imagining more was nearly impossible.

He’d said her eyes were like jewels but his, too, had been unusual. Emerald green, impossibly bright, like the man from the pub. The “pretty” man whose features she couldn’t describe now if her life depended on it, other than his eyes and the tone of his voice.

Her dream had taken those eyes and put them in the body of an Egyptian god. Or was he a Greek god? Wherever he was from, she was fairly certain he was a god there. Nothing like the sexy giant from the Ferris wheel, of course. That would be comparing silk to sandpaper. Though he did cause a similar reaction. Instant attraction. Instant desire.

The man in her dreams had been leaner, more like a panther in his movements. Every feature, everything about him was lush and breathtaking. Meant to be savored and enjoyed.

She opened her fists and the skirt slid down her legs as she studied her palms. Her hand had completely and miraculously healed after last night’s experience. She traced her fingers along the spot that had been marked. Why hadn’t Greg or Penn seen it? How had it disappeared so quickly? It had still been burned into her skin in her dream, and the man had mentioned it, saying it was important. Made her special.

“Burn…”

“What? Who’s there?” Aziza leaned out of the window and looked around for a body to go with that voice. Nothing stirred. Nothing rustled. She could hear the traffic if she focused, but beyond that the garden was eerily quiet.

God, she
really
hoped she wasn’t going crazy. She didn’t have time to go crazy. She had a bucket list to complete and then, if it turned out she wasn’t cursed and she made it beyond twenty-seven, she was fairly certain she could find a million better things to do with her time than lose her shit.

She sighed, continuing to seek out the body that belonged to that voice as she wondered what a future would look like. With no family other than Penn, maybe she would move here. She’d changed her major so many times she hadn’t had enough credits to graduate college, but she had skills. A Jane-of-all-trades, she’d told Greg after he’d won the overachiever award and gotten his master’s degree in record time.

They were exactly the same age, almost to the hour, and he was her best friend, but in many ways they couldn’t be more different. She envied him for being so together. So centered. He’d always known where life would take him. She knew he would defend her and say she’d had an unusual childhood, but she couldn’t blame her lack of ambition on her phobic mother or her overprotective brothers.

They had all known what they wanted too. Just like Greg. Tarik had been headed toward a career in business management from kindergarten, and Adam used to practice reading the six o’clock news in the bathroom every single night. Tarik used to tease him about that, saying his reflection must be incredibly well informed.

Joseph was different, the only one who hadn’t followed his original goal. Growing up, he’d always planned to be an archaeologist, even used to beg her to take him to museums instead of soccer practice on the weekend. If he disappeared for any length of time, she knew she would find him discovering a long-forgotten tomb in his closet.