Born of Fire

“Hope he upholds his end of the bargain and try to stay out of his way.”


Shahara clucked her tongue at him. “I really think you should come up with a better plan than that.”

“Why bother? Life has a way of destroying all plans.”

He was such a cynic. Shaking her head at him, she turned to get her weapon out of the pack.

“Shahara?”

“Yes,” she answered without turning around.

“If he kills me, would you see to it that I’m buried in the Ilysian Temple on Kildara beside Talia? I have a space already paid for.”

His request sliced through her as she realized why he’d chosen to live where he did. His apartment was within walking distance of where his sister was buried. Even all these years later, he wanted to be close to her.

Watch over her.

Wincing for the pain he carried inside him, she wanted to cry. “Yes. I’ll make sure that you’re . . .”

She couldn’t say it. The thought of his death was more than she could cope with.

“Thank you.”

Shahara nodded and fought against the pain tearing through her. He really might die.

And then what would she do? How could she live knowing that she’d set all this in motion?

Same way you’ve lived through every horror. One day at a time. But could she do that knowing she’d hurt him?

Don’t think about it. Right now, Tessa was the most important thing. Syn wouldn’t get hurt. She’d make sure of it.

Shahara adjusted her suit with a little tug on the gold belt. She knew she should be grateful that they were so close to freeing Tessa, but that just meant she was that much closer to losing Syn, and that tore her apart.

Glancing up at him, she had to smile. He looked stunning in his navy blue jacquard tunic and black pants. The color deepened the tan of his skin.

“Are we ready?”

He gave her that shit-eating grin that was as second nature to him as his sarcasm. “I’m always ready for a fight.” He opened the door for her.

As she walked past, he leaned over and whispered in her ear, “You look great, by the way.”

She licked her lips as she scanned his tall, sexy body. “So do you.”

He actually whimpered. “Why can’t we have two more hours in the room?”

She snorted. “Two hours? Honey, you seriously overestimate your prowess.”

He gaped at her retort. “Yeah, right. I am the best when it comes to bedroom play.”

“You keep telling yourself that, sweetie. One day you might convince someone else.”

Syn wanted to be offended, but he knew she was just picking on him to do it. Strangely, it charmed him.

I am so stupid . . . and in love. Which meant he was basically screwed.

Unwilling to think about that, he led her downstairs and out to a landing bay a few blocks over. He noticed as they walked that she huddled deep in her coat. It was cold, but then he was used to it. Many a night he’d lain on these streets and prayed for a time when he could live indoors and have heat.

Shahara hesitated as they entered the bay. “What are we doing?”

“Nero has a fighter that I’m borrowing.”

She cut him a suspicious glare. “Borrowing?”

He tapped his earpiece to open the channel to Vik. “Vik? Foreground. Now.” He gave her a droll stare as Vik flew in and landed on his shoulder.

The mecha bristled. “You do know I’m not your girlfriend, right? I don’t like that tone of voice and I’d appreciate it if you’d pick a new one. Otherwise, I’ll spit invisible poison in your eyeball . . . both of them.”

Syn let out an irritated breath, but didn’t say anything as he opened his hand. Vik dropped a nav chip in his hand. Holding it up for Shahara’s inspection, he smirked. “I called him earlier, then sent Vik to get the key.”

She bit her lip as she felt her face grow hot. “Sorry.”

“No problem, but just know that no one steals from Nero. He knows who you are and he will hunt you down and make you pay in ways you can’t imagine—including this whole brain squeeze that will leave you with a migraine so bad, you’ll wish you could bleed out your eyes to stop the pain. He’s nasty that way.”

“Duly noted.”

Clasping her hands behind her back, she dutifully followed him to Nero’s sleek, dark burgundy two-seated fighter. She ascended the boarding ladder first and situated herself in the navigator’s chair while Vik tucked himself in between her and Syn.

Syn didn’t speak as he ran through the flight checks, but he couldn’t help noticing how proud and fierce Shahara looked as she plugged in their coordinates. Her hands were beautiful in their grace and confidence.

The irony of his feelings toward her wasn’t lost on him. He’d sworn growing up that he’d never have anything to do with a lowly pleb. Especially not one who could beat him in a fight and out-shoot him.