Born of Fire

“Just curious.” Again she scanned the spindly buildings that spiraled up and sideways all around them in search of a promising destination.

Finally, Syn huffed irritably and moved around her. “You stink at this, you know that? I’d hate to ever go shopping with you if it takes you this long to make a decision.” He jerked his chin toward Nero. “Don’t forget, Scalera can’t hold his shield forever.”

“Not unless I want a nosebleed and headache. No offense, I’d rather pass on that oh-so-joyful misery.”

She glared at them and their combined sarcasm. “Fine, then. What’s your brilliant suggestion?”

Without answering her, Syn led her across the street to a hotel. Shahara lifted her brows in surprise. What was he thinking? How could that offer them any shelter?

Syn paused at the door and looked at Nero. “I’ll take it from here. Thanks for the assist, bro.”

Nero held his arm out to him. “You never cease to surprise me.”

“How so?”

“You’re the only one who knows how to bring me low and yet you never do.” He shook Syn’s arm and gave him a look of supreme respect. “Stand strong and stay free.”

“You, too.”

Pulling him in for a quick man hug, Nero stepped back. “And you take care, too, Shahara. Remember the lies we tell ourselves to survive seldom bring peace to our souls.”

She scowled as he walked away. “What did he mean by that?”

Syn shrugged. “You must have something guilty on your mind. He can read thoughts and see futures at times, so there’s no telling what he knows that you don’t.”

“And what did he mean about you?”

“I know what weakens him and I’ve never tried to enslave him with it. I wouldn’t do that to him, but he still has a hard time accepting the fact that I know who and what he is and I don’t use it against him.”

It was a rare thing and Syn was remarkable that way. “So are we really going to stay here?”

“No better place.” He opened the door and entered first, then held it open for her as she followed.

Inside the elegant lobby, she became instantly aware of her dirty clothes and lack of sophistication. Wealthy people and aristocrats milled all around, some of them just plain rude as they eyed her dusty uniform with distaste. They were all so impeccably dressed in clothes that would pay her bills for at least six months . . .

Or more.

Gah, Nero, come back and shield me from these people. She hated how, with nothing more than a disdainful look and curled lip, they could make her feel less than nothing and beneath them. Awkwardly, she brushed at her disheveled hair, trying to smooth the frizz.

Syn caught her hand and pulled it down. The fierce look on his face chilled her. “Don’t pay any attention to them. They’re the ones in the wrong here and you’re worth more than all of them put together. Value isn’t calculated by a person’s net worth or income. It’s calculated by integrity and decency. The only people in this room worth a damn are the ones who don’t care how we’re dressed. If you look, you will see the ones who matter. The rest of them can all go to hell.”

She offered him a trembling smile at his wisdom and kindness. That was why she loved him. And he was right. There were wealthy people in the room who didn’t pay any attention to them whatsoever and a couple who even offered a friendly smile.

Still, it didn’t take away the sting of disdain from the others. The pain they needlessly inflicted on her battered soul as they reminded her that she wasn’t good enough to be among them. Even the hotel staff looked at her as if they feared she’d spit on the floor.

Or do something worse.

Tucking her hand into the crook of his arm, Syn strode up to the counter as if he owned the place. His head high and spine straight, he looked at them with a defiance she wished to the gods she possessed.

Then again, he was probably used to such places. Unlike her, he made enough money to be able to pay for such luxuries. For that matter, he probably out-earned most of the snobs they passed and had enough money to buy the hotel outright.

That helped her to forget the others.

And as he moved, she noticed he drew way too many other females’ notice. White-hot heat stabbed at her breast and she had the strangest desire to start knocking some wealthy heads together.

Syn didn’t acknowledge them in the least as he stopped in front of the main desk.

Lifting a haughty brow, the clerk looked him up and down and appeared extremely put out that she had to wait on them. “May I help you?”

Syn returned her look with an even snottier one. “I’d like a room for the night.”

She gave a short laugh as if doubting his ability to pay. “And you are?”

He handed over an ID.

The clerk looked at it, then her demeanor instantly changed. “Lord Cruel, please forgive my rudeness . . . I-I should have recognized you instantly.”

Shahara started at the name and had to force herself not to show a single emotion.