Born of Fire

Shahara’s insides shrank at his words.

“But not her,” he continued. “She was so sheltered and unjaded. I knew in an instant that she’d never had a moment of fear or hunger. No demons haunted her. She had a past that I envied. And I thought that maybe, if I spent some time with her, maybe I could pretend I’d had a different past, too.”

“And she loved you,” Shahara said, her voice catching on the last words.

“No. She wanted the prestige of being married to a doctor. For some reason I never understood, she was embarrassed by her parents and their lowly pleb status. Her father was a salesman and her mother a computer tech.” He laughed bitterly. “Ironic, huh? I would have killed to have parents like hers and she wanted nothing more than to forget they existed because she wanted better.”

Though his voice was flat, she couldn’t shake the feeling that he still cared for his ex-wife. His eyes had belied his indifference while he described her.

“How long were you married?”

“Six long years.”

Nonplussed, she lifted herself up on one elbow to look down at him. “If they were so miserable, why did you stay?”

“Because she was respectable. Our life together was respectable and that was all I’d ever wanted. So what if she was the most pretentious woman alive? At least she was a lady. In public, she was the most gracious, enchanting woman you could imagine. She knew every tiny piece of etiquette. Hell, she even knew which piece of cutlery went with what dish.”

Unlike me. Shahara’s heart broke with the knowledge. Whether he admitted it or not, Syn still craved that life. She could see it in his eyes. Hear it in his voice.

She would never be that type of woman. They both knew that.

He could never be happy with her.

She wanted to die. How could she have been so foolish not to see it before?

He frowned at her. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” She cleared her throat and changed the subject. “Do you ever wish you could go back?”

“No. Not to her. I wish I could be a legitimate doctor again. And I would sell my soul to have my son’s love back. But the rest . . . What the hell, I guess. I’ve sold myself for a lot less over the years.”

Shahara raised up to look down at him. “Mara was a fool, Syn. If she couldn’t see all the wonderful things you are, she definitely doesn’t deserve you and I’m glad you’re rid of her.”

Syn’s breath caught at the conviction he heard in her voice. For a minute, he could almost believe her.

And when she lowered her lips to his, he could almost believe in miracles again.

Don’t be stupid.

Dreams were for fools, and honest, decent women like her didn’t involve themselves with trash like him. Not for long, anyway.

Unwilling to lie to himself anymore, he pulled back and sighed. “We need to get cleaned up. It won’t be long before we reach Ritadaria.”

“You think we’re going to find that chip?”

“No. I personally think we’re going to die.”





CHAPTER 17


Syn hissed as Shahara nipped his chin with her teeth. Hard. “That. Hurt.”

“Be grateful I showed restraint after that last comment, buddy.” But there was fear in her eyes as she looked at him. “Just out of curiosity, where did you leave the chip when you hid it all those years ago?”

He rubbed his hand over his chin in an effort to dispel some of the pain she’d given him. “In an office down the hallway from Merjack’s.”

She gaped at him. “You what?”

He shrugged. “I told you, I was a scared kid. I only had a few seconds to stash it before they took me. I figured it was the safest place.”

Shahara was flabbergasted by the news. What an act of supreme stupidity. “You don’t honestly think the chip’s still there?”

“Don’t know. It’s been a couple of decades since I dumped it. Let’s hope for a miracle.”

A miracle? A flippin’, farkin’ miracle?

Was he insane?

“You’re on drugs, aren’t you? Go ahead and admit it.”

He snorted. “I haven’t done drugs since I was in my teens and Nykyrian threatened my life if I ever used again. Bad thing about having an assassin as a friend. When he makes a threat against your life, you know it’s not one. He means it.”

She didn’t find his dry humor amusing in the least. Not when their lives were hinging on a miracle. “And where in the office did you dump it?”

“I secured it to a piece of statuary.”

Oh, it just got better and better. Her stomach hit the floor as she stared at him in contemptuous disbelief. They were so wasting their time. The odds of that person still being there . . .

Of the statue still being there . . .

She might as well shoot herself now and save the Rits the cost of the blaster charge. “Do you at least know whose office?”

“No. That’s why I made the map.”

She ground her teeth. “I’m going to kill you. Why are we even bothering? Do you know what the odds are that it’s still there?”