Born of Fire

The question hung in the air between them and it left a deafening silence. She didn’t know anything about his past except what the contracts read and what his prayer box contained, which wasn’t much. There was no family of record. No known acquaintances or friends.

He worked part time for The Sentella which was a freelance assassin service run by Nemesis—one of the most feared and wanted outlaw assassins in the business. But the bounty hadn’t even listed his job title there.

For all she knew, he could be Nemesis.

Or something worse.

So maybe he had deserved it. Maybe he’d been given his name because he’d been evil from the womb and his father had sought to curb his criminal impulses by beating them out of him at an early age.

And yet . . .

She saw the image of the beaten child. The boy Syn had looked frightened, not evil. “What did you do to deserve it?”

He paused while returning his medical instruments to their case. Without looking at her, he said quietly, “I tried to keep him from selling my sister’s virginity.”

A lump of emotions gathered into her throat and choked her. The loyalty of his action reminded her much of her own brother. Caillen would die to protect her.

Syn tossed his torn shirt into the garbage, then moved past her, into the bedroom.

She continued to stare at the scars on his back. Could a boy who took such a beating for the sake of another person become the menace of Syn’s reputation?

Some psychologists would say no. It was people who’d lost their ability to sympathize with others, to care for others, who turned into rapists and murderers.

Still, it wasn’t beyond the realm of speculation that he could be capable of committing those heinous crimes. Many serial killers and rapists had close friends and spouses who had never suspected they possessed such deep psychosis.

A man didn’t have so lethal a reputation without cause . . .

Until she knew more, she had no choice except to believe in what his bounty sheet said: C.I. Syn, Ruthless and Calculating. Kills without remorse. Proceed at own risk.

She’d risked a great deal to come after him and time was running out for Tessa. She’d botched this mission and needed something to get the money for her sister before it was too late. “So how long are you going to keep me here?”

Syn tucked his clean shirt into his pants. “Until you recant your contract on me and swear that you’ll never again stalk me.”

“Is that it?”

“That’s it.”

Crossing her arms over her chest, she frowned at him. “You’d trust me that easily?”

“Hell no,” he said with a sneer. “The only thing I trust in life is to get fucked over by everyone around me. But if I ever hear of you coming after me again, I’ll deliver your brother to you in a box.”

Shahara went cold in dread. All too well she could see her brother’s lifeless form—it was a vision that had haunted her most of her life. “You wouldn’t dare!”

“Wouldn’t I?” He moved to tower over her. He put one arm up on each side of her, pinning her back against the wall. She trembled at his nearness, at the raw male power that emanated from every pore of his body.

“I’m a cold-blooded murderer. Remember?” He raked her with an evil grin. “Believe me, baby, I am ruthless and I love nothing more than the taste of blood. Yours. His. Anyone’s. I’m not particular.”

Outraged, she lunged for him.

No one threatened her family! No one!

Syn caught her hands and pushed her back against the wall, his chest pressing against hers. She stared up at him, wishing she could break his hold and tear him apart. Even so, she refused to be intimated or threatened by something like him. “So help me, convict, if you ever touch a member of my family, I’ll come for you. There’s no hole in hell you can find that would be deep enough to hide you from my wrath.”

He scoffed, then released her. “Take a number.”

She rubbed her numb wrists and glared at him. No matter the personal cost, she would protect her family. Oaths and morals be damned.

“When are you going to free me?”

He shrugged. “Now’s as good as any time.”

Her anger drained from her. She blinked, not really sure it’d be that easy to leave.

C.I. Syn, Ruthless and Calculating. Was this a trick of his to get her out of his apartment so that he could kill her and dump her body more easily?

The thought was sobering.

“I can go right now?” she asked suspiciously.

“Yep. I’ll take you home, and as soon as I see you recant the contract, you’re free.”

Oh yeah, right . . . like she’d make that mistake. “Take you to my home so that you can see where I live? How stupid do you think I am?”