Exhale (10 page)

Still not sure what to make of the bloke, Gavin rested a hand against the kitchen entryway and studied him. Couldn’t get a solid reading. Aura was well-balanced, maybe a little heavy on the yellow side—Air—which confirmed Jack’s mental wheels were turning. Duh.

The man seemed genuine enough, and they got on well, but something about Jack didn’t fit. There was a missing piece to his puzzle, and Gavin couldn’t put his finger on it. A what-you-see-is-what-you-get sort, Jack came off as trustworthy, but in a used-car-salesman way.

Step into my web. I’ll show you around.

Shaking his head, Gavin walked into the room, handed Jack a beer, and took a seat. He propped his bare feet on the table. “What’s on the agenda tonight?”

Rubbing his hands together, Jack leaned forward, elbows to knees. “I’ve cooked up something special for you. For an appetizer, I’ll serve another lesson on Songlines. The main course this evening is on drawing Elements from the natural environment, and we’ll end the night with a delectable dessert I call ‘Fighting Fyres with Fire.’ Saving the best for last.”

“Oh, I can’t wait.”

Again Gavin questioned why he had agreed to be the leader of the Sentinel Council. Worse, why would the council
allow
someone as inept as him to lead? Everyone knew how clueless he was. There had to be some motivation behind the appointment.

Before he died, Yileen had told the council he wanted Gavin in the head position, but they could have vetoed it. Those people were masterful manipulators. The more he thought about it, the more Gavin believed he was a pawn in a much bigger game. The council members had no more faith in him than he had in himself.

He searched Jack’s face. His trainer knew more than he was letting on too. If those wrinkles could talk…

Maybe it was time to do a little investigating into Jack’s background. Gavin had to be sure of allegiances, and by default, Jack needed to be at the top of his ‘cleared’ list. He would pay close attention to tonight’s lesson on Songlines and start looking into Jack’s past tomorrow.

Jack’s features hardened, and the playful glint in his eyes disappeared. “Before we get started, don’t you think it’s time you arranged a council meeting? As leader, you’re expected to schedule this shit. They’re gonna want updates, assignments, plans. Like it or not, it’s your job to pull them—and keep them—together.”

Gavin gritted his teeth. Jack was right. Without strong leadership, the Sentinels could fall prey to the same kind of chaos that had swept through the Wæter Elementals’ ranks after the recent assassination of their Archelemental. Last thing anyone needed was the Fyres getting organized and executing another surprise attack on Wyldlings in the Dreaming.

“Any advice on how to handle the meeting? I’m walking into this completely blind.”

Jack’s brow wrinkled, and his lips twisted into a pucker. “You’ll need to access the Songlines from previous meetings to acquaint yourself with the way the Sentinels do business. Do you have any allies on the council? Someone you can trust?”

Gavin shook his head. “At this stage, I don’t even trust myself. I’m fucked.”

Jack gave a curt nod. “You can’t let them think you don’t know what you’re doing. It’s important for a leader always to appear strong, whether he is or not. When you finish with the Songlines, your best bet is to hit the Sentinels’ library for a little research into the most recent conflict with the Fyres. Then you can plan your agenda. I’ll help if you want.

“In the meantime, it would be wise to send out a message asking the Sentinels to be on high alert. They need to report all Fyre activity. They also should keep watch over the Wyldlings in the Dreaming. After the deaths last week, a lot of humans aren’t sleeping well. Sentinels need to be active in the field, offering assistance, Water, whatever. Human safety is the top priority.”

Jack had a plan for everything. Gavin looked him in the eyes. “How do you know so much about organizing Sentinels?”

“I used to be the council leader for North America.”

Jack?
He could see the bloke working as an advisor, what with his vast knowledge of Fyres, but the leader of the largest group of Sentinels on the planet? No way.

“Why ‘used to be?’”

Jack averted his gaze and popped the top on his beer. He slurped up the ensuing foam and took a couple of swallows. “Being a leader not only takes a lot out of you, but also out of your family, man. Be careful. It can make you forget the important stuff if you let it.”

Funny. Gavin had just been dumped into the role, and it
already
consumed his life. What would it be like in a few weeks? A year?

He’d finally made some progress with Zoe tonight. Would his new job as Head Dream Warrior rob him of what little time he had to give her? Juggling music and his Sentinel duties was hard enough without her in the mix. This triumvirate of conflicting priorities could get well-tangled if not dealt with properly.

That was assuming he had a chance in hell of landing Zoe.

Gavin stretched. It was gonna be another long night with Jack. “All right, mate. We’d better get busy. Time doesn’t grow on trees.”

Jack stood up, beer in hand, and grinned. “Pretty soon, you’re gonna be the most feared Sentinel in the history of the Dreaming.” His huge black pupils sucked the gray from his eyes. He clapped a hand on Gavin’s shoulder, and a stream of heat echoed between them. “I got a feeling about you.”

Chapter Eight

At the Witching Hour, Scarlet sauntered past a row of parked motorbikes into a dimly lit bar on the outskirts of Hervey Bay, swinging her now-skinny hips for the twenty or so bikeys and other Wyldlings littering the tables. A couple of blokes playing pool paused their game and leaned against their sticks. Eyes popped and Fire spiked from all directions. A sharp, high-pitched whistle pierced the gray-tinted air. Obviously, the patrons at this fine establishment scorned local smoking laws.

Good. She did too.

She smoothed a weathered hand down her new, blond-streaked locks and swallowed the vitriol climbing her throat. The persona she’d adopted for the evening’s festivities literally made her nauseous.

Forget that bitch. You’re doing this for Gavin. For Fire.

Without so much as a glance at the hulking, black-clad steroid-based life forms mouth breathing all over her back, she slid onto a tall bar stool and placed her palm on the nicked wood. She stroked the holes. Knife gouges, most likely. Yes, this place would do nicely.

“Tequila.” She looked up through the curtain of thin, straight hair.

The scowling bartender snorted and glanced past her shoulder where more heat bloomed behind her. He snatched up a dirty glass from two seats over, shook it out on the floor, and pushed it onto a shelf of ‘clean’ ones above his head. “You’re in the wrong place, love. The yacht club crowd meets up the street. Get outta here.”

She assumed Zoe Morgan’s posture and reproduced the slutty smile she’d seen the bitch give Gavin in the Dreaming. “I came here for two things.” The vulgar American accent tasted like shit on her tongue, but practice would yield perfection.

She reached across the bar and grabbed the bottle of tequila sitting on the ledge. Tipping it back, she indulged in a long draught. The burn was fantastic. She glanced over her shoulder at the trio of panting dogs burning up her back. “Drinking and fucking. Not necessarily in that order.”

The bartender leaned against the booze wall and sized her up. His scowl slowly dissolved into a lascivious grin. He folded thick, tattooed arms over his fat gut. The blokes flanking her hooted their approval, and a hand met her ass. She eased back to give the fondler better access and unbuttoned her shirt. Her cinnamon scent permeated the stale air. Conversation ground to a halt. Wouldn’t be long now. Once the pheromones hit, the Wyldlings were hers.

“Looks like we’ve got a pro here, mates.” A tall, bald guy with tattoos all over his head stepped forward, black eyes flashing. His Fire called to her. But not like Gavin’s. No, this guy’s was dark, sinister. “Problem is, love, we don’t pay for sex. We take it.”

Scarlet turned around on the stool and sent her Fire out on a quick recon mission. Uncrossing her legs slowly, she made sure the bikeys got a good look at her lack of underwear.

Baldy’s gaze settled between her legs. His lip twitched. Rolling menace, he stepped forward and growled. She leaned back to give him a better view. Violent hunger pulsed under his skin. Her mouth salivated at the promise of what his rage and lust would do for her dwindling supply. There was enough red in this place to restock her stores to half-f.

Fire from the crowd of ten or so bikeys who’d gathered pin-balled off her. Uncertainty fluttered among them. Interesting. They clearly desired her but deferred to…she smelled the air and tracked the Fire.

So, Baldy was the leader. Excellent.

“Take whatever you want. My only rule is you must share.” She flashed Morgan’s coy grin while rubbing the wetness that had accumulated between her legs. She licked her finger and offered Baldy some. He slapped it away and shoved her down on the wooden bar. Pain jolted up her spine, and she gasped. Oh, yes.

The crowd tightened around her. Belt buckles unhooked. Baldy’s ugly mate jumped on to the weathered bar. One of his black leather boots landed beside her right ear. The spur on the heel whizzed. He grabbed her by the chin, wrenched her mouth open, and angled it toward Baldy’s zipper. A second later, a thick cock pointed like an accusing finger in her face. She smiled and darted her tongue out to it.

Hands from all around fell on her. Clothes tore, the smells of sweat and beer stained her nostrils, curses and whoops tore the air, and one object or another filled each orifice. Rancid breath dueled with the cinnamon pouring off her in great waves. She let go of her earthly bindings and embraced only Elemental ones. Physicality disappeared under the growing heat emanating from every place a filthy Wyldling pig touched her.

Let them fuck her.

She sucked their Fire out faster than they could make it. The more violently passion flared, the bigger the flames following in its wake. As soon as one spilled his seed, another popped up behind him.

More
.

A gunshot sounded. Glass broke. Someone slapped her ass. God, it just kept building. “Fuck me!” she screamed.

They did.

With every humiliating orgasm, she reclaimed a pinch of the Fire Archelemental Eidan had raped from her. Red flame tongues inched along her skin, burning the sin away, purifying her.

As Baldy pounded her a second time, laughter poured from her lips, but it wasn’t hers. God, if Zoe could see herself now. Scarlet had whored that bitch’s body out to a dozen bikeys. The exhilaration was indescribable.

Her wildly growing Fire loosed another shot of pheromones into the sex-drenched air. She grabbed Baldy’s head and yanked his ear to her mouth. “Do you like using me as your dirty whore, baby?”

“Yes.” She wasn’t sure if he answered or his Fire did. Either way, his glazed, vacant eyes suggested her hypnotic body chemistry had worked its magic. A few more moments, and they’d all be hers.

“Good. If you want more, you and your boys are gonna do something for me.”

Sweat dribbled down his cheeks. Red poured off him. He fucked her harder. “Anything.”

Her Fire snapped forward and caught his with flaming tendrils.
Almost there.

“I want you guys to kill everyone in this bar who’s not one of your gang. And I want you to do it nice and slow.” She snagged his gaze and held it on a short leash.

His eyes lost focus, he fell forward, and came inside her, harder than before. Along with his seed, he relinquished his Fire to her command.

Ah, there you are.
Her Fire smiled.

Scarlet stroked the back of Baldy’s head and slid her fingers down his spine, imagining Gavin’s hard muscles writhing at her touch. “Now, baby,” she whispered. “Go kill them now.”

Shoulders heaving, he picked himself up slowly and turned to his mates. He bent and slid a knife from his boot. Scarlet sat up on the bar, her spread legs cheering him on.

He fell upon the nearest man and swiftly castrated the bloke. A scream strangled the air.

Fire sent her flying off the bar to squat over the bleeding fool. She swept a hand across his wet hair.

He stared up at her with fearful, pleading eyes. “Help me.”

“Oh, no, sweetie. I can’t do that. I need that fear.” She sucked some through her skin, and her insides melted.

Blood lapped at Zoe Morgan’s tanned, bare feet and colored her nails the loveliest shade of crimson. She wiggled her toes. Fire blazed even stronger through blood than it did skin. Scarlet swiped a finger through the growing puddle and pulled it to her lips. Dear Incendius, it was sweet.

But not as sweet as Gavin’s,
her Fire reminded.

She swung her head back to Baldy. “More!” she screamed at him, shaking her bloody fist. “More, goddamn it!”

He stared down at her, eyes filled with black hatred. “You heard the lady. She wants more. Feed her.”

The bikeys looked at one another. Grins eased across cruel faces lined with scars and tattoos. A few of the other patrons stumbled toward the exit. Baldy’s bloody knife flew across the room and skewered a hand, pinning it to the door handle it gripped. A cry rose from that direction, and a burst of panicked Fire manifested in a collective gasp.

One man fell on another, and red-tinged chaos descended.

Scarlet rose and ground her foot into the ball-less wonder’s gaping wound. He expelled the contents of his stomach and either passed out or died. When she reached the halfway point to the door, she laid hands on Zoe’s bloody, filth-covered hips. Bodies flew past. Blood spurted. Murderous rage claimed lives.

Arms held wide, she spun in a circle.

Being Zoe Morgan wasn’t half bad. She could get used to this.

Chapter Nine

“Are you sure you’re okay with me leaving?” Zoe asked as the Zodiac sped over the waves toward the harbor on Saturday afternoon.

Adriene’s dark brown eyes softened. “Of course. How often do you get to catch up with a long lost cousin on the other side of the world? We’ll be fine, and I have your number if anything goes wrong.