Slow Burn (3 page)

He never took his eyes off her as he backed into the door
with a thud.

Sonja looked up with tears in her eyes. She sniffled,
brushed strands of deep red hair away from her face, and mouthed, “Please
stay.”

Something heavy coated the air and filled his lungs. The
scent he couldn’t place was wet, humid. Then it became arid before disappearing
completely. Odd, Derrick had never had that experience before. He shrugged,
leaned back against the doorframe. Crossing his arms over his chest, he eyed
her with wariness usually reserved for an opponent. “Are you sure? I can get
Rob.”

“No!” She covered her mouth with her hand. The noise came
out as a growl and made the puma inside Derrick take notice, almost as if it
had found a mate in Sonja.

He didn’t understand her. The weight she carried pressed
down on his shoulders with steadily increasing tension. Derrick had no
intention of letting it best him. “What can I do?”

“Just…” Her voice shook with fear. “Hold me please.”

“Are you sure?” As he took a tentative step toward her, he
prepared himself for another bout of energy to come flailing at him, but after
that first step, none came. Then he took another. His body ached to come to
her, to comfort her even though they’d barely met. Sex consumed his brain,
definitely. His cock hardened painfully. He’d already sampled the sweetness of
her lips, but the way her eyes opened wide with shock and anger, then fear,
bothered him and did little to shut down his libido.

The puma wanted to claim her. It had been too long since
he’d been with another. The human mind knew better.

Slowly, he stepped toward the couch and knelt before her. He
reached for her, touched her, and felt tranquility wash over him like a warm
blanket on a cool evening.

That was the best way he could describe it. “How did you do
that?”

She lifted her head, spoke low, “I have to readjust to the
larger crowds. It’s becoming tougher to control my emotional outpouring and
what I take in. I told you, you’re calming.”

He laughed again, then met her stare. Realized she believed
what she said. He sighed. “Fine. I’m calming. But if that’s the case, what’s
going on?” When she didn’t reply, Derrick moved to the couch and wrapped his
arms around her body. Somehow he knew she’d fit perfectly with the way he sat.
“Like this?”

She scooted against him, pressed her perfectly round and
panty-clad backside into his crotch. Her head rested on his shoulder. “Yeah,
just like that.”

He looked up, then back at her. He caressed her hair,
enjoying the feel of silky smooth strands fluttering through his fingers. Puma
senses picked up her scent, lush and of the forest, wet moss and pine. Oak and
earth undertones reminded him of the peace he used to find as a child playing
with his sibling.

She shook against him.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s…not your fault.” The faint whisper of her voice indicated
just how strained she’d been. “Okay. Just try to steady your mind. In the
morning I can do it for you, but until then…” Her sentence drifted off. Her
chest rose and fell above his forearms, indicating she’d drifted off to sleep.

It took a moment, but Derrick cleared his mind of all the
day’s events. In a few breaths, he allowed his focus to center on Sonja’s
steady breathing. He stretched his legs and wrapped himself around the sexy
little death metal singer who took on the weight of the world and made it her
own. Oh, and somehow found a liking by his puma.

Rob would have to explain more to him in the morning. For
now, he wondered where the rest of the band mates were and why no one had
bothered to check on her.

She was their front man after all.

Only a day ago, Rob had come to Derrick asking for
protection for his sister. He paid a portion in cash and offered Derrick free
drinks if he’d show up.

“You can’t go to the police with this? They’re better
equipped—”

“No.” Rob cut him off. “They lack experience with this sort
of thing. Plus, you’re not the only one the Anti-Shifter League has a grudge
against. They’re not a fan of witches, and Sonja is one of the strongest out
there. At least that we know of.”

“Her magic can’t keep her safe?”

“No.” Rob had shaken his head. “No one else’s can. She needs
a bodyguard, a protector and champion who will support her.”

“Sounds like you’re trying to set us up.” Derrick crossed
his arms and leaned back in his chair. He’d slid his sunglasses on, started to
stand, but Rob put his hand out, grabbed him.

“She’s so very important. She’s lonely, and anything I do to
bring this to her attention is simply going to make her worry more but be more
reckless with her power. She’s…” His eyes pleaded.

Derrick couldn’t stand it. “The weak and underprivileged.
There are others out there who can deal with terror threats like this. What do
they want?”

“Control of her power. But I know you can keep her safe.”

Again, Derrick sighed. He had no idea how this man could put
that much faith in someone he’d just met. Even as a spy, Derrick knew most
people—most creatures—were liars. Not on purpose usually, but that’s just the
condition of life.

“Please?”

How Rob found Derrick puzzled him. There were a few spooks
still doing side jobs in between operations and whatnot, but Derrick was most
certainly on the do-not-touch list.

He’d never discussed the secret agent stuff with anyone but
Max. Then Rob showed up asking for a favor that sounded like something a former
spy could do.

Being a spy had privileges, but after a while, it became
difficult to tell who the real enemy was and what he truly fought for.

The second he had the chance to escape that nonsense and
move to California, he took it.

And he ended up here, on a leather couch holding a beautiful
woman, the lead singer of the most famous death metal band around.

She wasn’t just a witch, she was an empath, but how far did
her powers extend?

Now that he’d seen her power firsthand, he understood why
people would easily target her and try to use her. If she could knock him down
by just lessening control over her thoughts and the crap she’d taken in, she
could be a violent weapon. She was the one who calmed him down when the night
terrors hit him full force.

She took those visions away much faster than the drinks and
pills ever could.

Others could use her to do great damage to the world. He had
to prevent that. That’s why Rob hired him.

He’d detected no threats in the crowd. No rogues, no black
ops teams, no nut jobs nuttier than the usual religious freaks who protested
and promoted a religious agenda safe from supposed persecution and damnation.

For the time being, she would be safe here.

Chapter Two

Sonja stirred, sat up, and opened her eyes, letting them
adjust to the lack of any other light source but the window.

She rubbed her aching head, stretched a leg, and felt
leather caress her thigh. “What happened?”

“Who—” She picked up the soft leather and memories of a tall
man filled her mind. The image of a puma roaming through the forest, looking,
hunting melted into another image of a man sitting in a lounge cigar in hand
with smoke wafting around him.

Intrigued, Sonja focused harder on the figures, but they
disappeared.

The mental fog started to clear. She recalled the events
from last night. Derrick had come to meet her, they almost slept together, then
he curled up with her on the couch while she slept.

Why had they stopped? She blinked, remembered flooding him
with emotional nonsense, the crap she’d picked up from the show. She also saw
what looked like a younger version of him hunting in Africa for some powerful
force. Unidentifiable, but his goal was clear. Make it out alive.

She remembered feeling the terror when some realization hit,
and even more pain when someone close to him almost died.

Luckily, she’d remembered to pull back her own shit just so
she could clear his mind and put him at ease. Unfortunately, the hot sex they
were heading toward ended up not happening because once she used her power to
steady his mind, exhaustion kicked in and the tears started.

She had needed sleep. The only thing that would heal her
would be a night to pass out and let the dreams take care of all the baggage
she’d acquired while singing. That energy would sort itself out and give voice
to the individuals who put it out while her mind categorized it. Then she could
use magic to heal it, and herself.

Rob insisted she sleep separate from the band last night,
then he showed up with this stranger he claimed to have met in school years
ago.

Her brother was up to something, probably hiding something
from her. But what? And why?

Yawning, she stretched her arms above her head, spread them
out at her sides, and closed her eyes. Magic flowed around her, inside her, and
swirled into a ball of blue light. Slowly, the blue faded into healing warmth,
a white light that spread throughout her body, cleansing all the emotional
baggage she had picked up.

The process took slightly less time than normal and left her
feeling rejuvenated. Oddly, it usually left her sleepy.

A rap at the door sounded, alerting her to her brother’s
presence.

Sonja threw on Derrick’s trench coat without a thought,
lifted her head, and stood. “Come in.”

The door opened with a long, slow creak.

She slid off the couch, headed to the dresser, and pulled
out fresh clothing.

Rob pushed through the entrance and quickly looked away.
“Sorry, I thought—”

“No, it’s okay.” She dressed quickly, admiring the softness
of the leather pants hugging her hips. “I’m sorry about last night.”

“Hey.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry about it.
I was more afraid for Derrick than I was for what could happen to this bar.”

She remembered the show well. The crowd had been so full of
anger and pain, the previous band had riled them up and stirred the emotional
aspect of humankind in them into such a disturbingly powerful force that it
took all she had to control them and not pass out on stage. “We can’t play with
them again if they’re going to continue behaving this way.”

Rob nodded. “I know. I didn’t find any real talent there,
but they have their audience. It’s just not this one.” He paused, looked at the
door, then back at her. “Your boots are by the door. The rest of the band is
having breakfast and wanted me to tell you that it’s okay for you to come out when
you’re ready.”

She sighed. “I’m so sorry.” The weight in her voice dropped.
“I wish I could be—”

Rob held up a hand. “You know what we are. They do, too. For
ordinary mortals it’s one thing to deal in witchcraft, all they see are the
weak effects of human power. But to those born of the moon or the sun, we must
walk a different path. We have always been more than the parlor tricks and
light magic others thought of the craft.”

“I know.” She sighed again. It wasn’t an accident that she
fell into the role of lead singer for one of the largest local death metal
bands of all time. She unknowingly put herself at the right place at the right
time, and everything went perfect until the night of their first show.

Around small groups of people, Sonja had no problem
controlling her power and what she picked up or let out. They practiced and
wrote lyrics and music to hit hard and close to home. The crowd erupted into a
mass mosh pit, and once the emotions were released, they hit Sonja dead on like
a typhoon. The first time this happened, she almost fainted onstage.

Raj, their bass player, was closest to her and had to pick
her up off the floor.

Then he immediately faked an equipment malfunction and
pulled the band offstage.

When they sat back in the room, tempers ran high but they
weren’t angry. “We want to know if you’re on drugs,” Corey began. “Because if
so, that’s fine, but—”

Raj gestured with a hand. He towered over her by at least a
good six inches. Jet-black hair parted on both sides of his face, piercing gunmetal
gray eyes stared back at her. “Look at her. Does she look like we did when we
were younger?” He took her chin in his hand and lifted her head to his.

She sniffled.

Then he gasped. “She’s…” He dropped his hand and took a step
back. “Not like us.”

“No.” She sobbed. “I’m not. But I’m harmless. I swear it!”
Tears streaked down her face, smearing the corpse paint.

“Ha!” Jacob, the drummer, leaned back against the leather
couch. Red hair hung in rivulets down his shoulders and made him look even
paler in comparison to Sonja. He stroked his long pointed goatee and narrowed
his bright blue eyes at her. “Ye’re no’ harmless, lass, but ye doona’ mean us
any harm.”

Sonja remembered his expression. His concern had washed over
her.

He ran a hand through his hair and looked down at the floor,
then back to her. “We’re in this together, lass. Aye?”

She nodded. “If you’re all good with this. I’m—”

“It doesn’t matter.” Rob held up two fingers. “I think we
had better take the night off and regroup.”

Dez shuddered. He picked up a nearby guitar and started
strumming it. He had to move strands of thick blond hair from his face to see
the chords. When he did, he looked up from his guitar and stared at her.
Kindness emanated from the depths of his deep purple irises. “That’s it then.
We’re just good with this, Sonja. Help us help you.”

They had done that. Sonja remembered being driven home and
deposited into bed. The next morning, Rob found her and sat her down to tell
her the entire story about their past.

She looked at Rob now, saw the love in his eyes, and hoped
she could learn to better control her powers. “There’s so much going on in the
world now, so much pain and misery.”

Rob nodded. “I know, sis. It’s not all your burden to fix,
okay? We’re gifted by the goddess and god to do as our destiny warrants. But
your path is no longer clear.” He closed his eyes, and inhaled and exhaled
slowly. “The puma—”

She arched a brow. “Derrick?”

“Yes.” His lips pursed together in a line. “…has now become
intertwined in your destiny. I fear a bad moon rising soon.”

The burning in her stomach told her he was right.

She’d felt this way for some time. Groups such as the
Anti-Shifter League wanted to control her in hopes of using her voice to
eradicate the shifter menace. Terrorist groups from the Middle East and the
Eastern Bloc wanted her for their own nefarious agendas.

She’d have to deal with the curse of being a witch. The fact
that not just humans sought her power made things worse. Shifters could be just
as greedy.

Rob's eyes averted hers.

“You didn’t meet him in school, did you?”

Rob stiffened visibly.

“I thought not. What’s his game, brother mine?”

Looking away, Rob shoved his hands into his pockets and
paced back and forth. “He’s harmless to us. No, I didn’t meet him in school.”

She took her brother’s hand and met his gaze. “Which side is
Derrick on?”

He opened his eyes, looking over her and away. “He’s a
regular in here, but his local haunt is on the other side of town. I think you
should go see for yourself.” Rob retrieved a card from his shirt pocket and
handed it to his sister. “He’ll be at this location later in the afternoon. The
band isn’t booked for another show until a few days from now and we can put you
on a plane for that.”

She took the card and her eyes went wide. “He’s not quite
the typical death metal fan is he?”

Rob gave her a lopsided grin and dropped his hands into his
pockets. “You have no idea, sis.”

* * *

Derrick picked up his sunglasses and slid them on. He
reached for the trench coat hanging on the hook only to find it missing.

“Shit.” Sonja’s dressing room. He’d been so mesmerized by
her innocent pout and luscious body curled up against the couch side that he
decided to stretch her out, carefully lay a blanket over her, then leave,
forgetting that his trench coat was draped over the back of the couch.

An hour later, Derrick sat with a cigar between his fingers,
reclining in a plush leatherback chair while sipping port. Smoke drifted around
his head and the aroma of sweet leather and cocoa filled the air. Paintings of
old Spanish artwork hung on the red brick walls.

Four other puma shifters sat in oversized leather chairs.
Sometimes they provided backup for his jobs, but mostly he bounced ideas off
them. Except Max.

He kept secrets from Max.

Rocky sat to Derrick’s left. Dressed in a silver suit, his
gray hair matched the tones of his eyes. A huge cigar hung from his lips. He
stared intently at Derrick. Clapping his big hands together, he leaned forward.
“What are we going to do when this enemy strikes?”

Derrick took a puff and exhaled, blowing a thick white cloud
of smoke into the air. “I don’t know. I didn’t sense anything last night.
Nothing came across the radio.” He paused, blinked. “I found her though.”

A gray eyebrow rose. “You did?”

Slowly, he nodded. “Yeah, I met Sonja.”

A sigh came from the puma sitting on Derrick’s right.
Michael, former CIA operative, dressed in a black short-sleeved button-down
shirt and khaki pants. His shoes matched the color of his eyes. With hair
trimmed all around, his dark skin indicated a Latin heritage. “You went into a
brave scene, my friend.”

Michael didn’t care for death metal. “Oh, it’s not that bad.
Someday you’ll realize the similarities between jazz and death metal. She’s a
real beauty.”

“A dangerous one.” Michael’s South American accent came out.
He narrowed his grayish purple eyes and ran a hand through cropped dark hair
that matched the color of his shirt.

Derrick took a sip of port, enjoying the raisin taste that
coated his throat and paired with the cigar. “Yeah. She’s a little unstable
with her power.”

Puffing on his cigar, Rocky slumped into the chair. “That’s
not good. She could do a lot of damage with that voice if our enemies get a
hold of her.”

“I know. I experienced that power firsthand last night.” He
kept an eye on Max, watching him intently. He wasn’t about to tell any of them
how her voice lured him toward her or that she found him safe. They’d be upset
at the first bit, the latter, they’d laugh about.

Max shifted comfortably in his chair and took a puff on his
cigar. Dressed in black jeans and boots, he eyed Derrick in a very male,
all-knowing way.

“I didn’t say I fucked her.” Derrick cleared his throat.

Eyes all around widened.

Erick, the eldest puma shifter, sat across from Derrick.
Long gray hair parted, showing a clear, wrinkled face with a Van Dyke beard. He
narrowed his eyes. “Be careful with this one, but let her into your world.”

Derrick could only nod and take another puff on his cigar.
The statement elicited a curiosity that Derrick couldn’t ignore. Erick had
always been the most prophetic of the elder pumas in the area. Prophetic was
the only way to explain Erick’s manner. Everything about him seemed eerie,
especially the words he spoke.

“You’ll keep an eye on her then.” Rocky waved a hand to clear
the smoke he’d just blown into the air. One leg crossed over the other,
twitched nervously. “You’ll watch her for us.”

Derrick’s mind raced back to the scenario last night in her
dressing room. Curvy, clad only in underwear, and hair spilling over pale skin.
Yeah, he’d watch that.

Of course, her crying upset him, too.

“Derrick.” Michael tapped the ash off his cigar. “Earth to
Derrick.”

Derrick shook his head and stared at Michael. “Yeah, I’m
sorry. I was just distracted.”

An elbow nudged his knee and irritated Derrick. “Got a
secret, eh?” The wry smile Rocky gave him confirmed that, as much as he feared
the witch, his mind had taken up permanent residence in the gutter.

Not that he could blame him, but seeing the real thing, live
and up close, was much better than all the discussion they had here with
speculation and photographs.

“She’s a very beautiful woman.” Derrick shifted his weight
in the chair so that he sat at an angle while one arm dangled over the edge.
Smoke billowed upward, adding to the rich scents in the room. “A very gorgeous
creature indeed.”

Then he blinked.

Sonja stood in the doorway wearing a sexy-as-hell grin.
Shoulders back, hands on luscious hips, confidence rolled off her in waves. So
did attitude. “You forgot this.” She ran a finger down the black leather coat
before it fell open to reveal a low-scooped top that pushed her breasts up and
showed plenty of mouthwatering cleavage.