Born of Fire

He gave her a droll stare. “Find a woman who won’t stab me in the back and betray me. Oh wait, you stabbed me in the arm, didn’t you?”


She deserved that, and what stung most was the fact that it was true. But she didn’t respond, especially since he hadn’t said it in a snotty tone. Just matter-of-factly.

Vik moved to sit down by her arm. “You want to leave him for a real man?”

Shahara laughed. “You’re not my type, Vik.”

He tsked. “Yeah, it’s hard for you fleshy types to admit that we’re better in bed. ’Sa’ight. I understand.” He sniffed. “Not like I don’t have a crush on a lamp.”

Syn smiled. “You know I have missed you.”

Vik gave him a shaming stare—something incredible given the intricacies of programming that went into facial expressions. “But not enough to come back.”

“I’m truly sorry, Vik. I didn’t know it would hurt your feelings. I thought you liked it here with Digger.”

“He all right. But he not you. He so cautious, it boring. You ever try to run with an old man? I miss what we had.” He paused before he added. “Can I come with you now?”

Syn hesitated. On the one hand, he’d like that a lot. On the other . . . “What about Digger?”

“He not doing much these days. Please, Sheridan. I don’t want to stay here. I’m going to rust and die from inaction.”

That was the last thing Syn wanted to happen to him. “All right, but don’t call me Sheridan. I don’t use that name anymore.”

“Asshole? That works for me.”

Syn rolled his eyes. “Syn. Call me Syn.”

Vik snorted. “Syn? What kind of stupid name is that?”

“Better than Vik.”

“Not really, but okay. If that be the terms, I abide by them.” He returned to his bird form and flew to sit on the sill. “By the way, I knew you were back when I heard some bonebags talking about the price on your head. They gathering men to come get you. You might want to prepare.”

Syn cursed. “We need to get up and get out of here.” And with that came a streak of worry over Digger. Wondering where he was, Syn headed to the front room.

The room was empty except for a pile of dark material and a note placed on the sofa. He picked it up and glanced to see Shahara as she came forward to stand in the doorway. “Digger went to buy some food.”

Folding the note, Syn’s gaze fell to the clothes. He tossed the smaller set to Shahara before he saw the black boots. “Hallelujah,” he breathed in relief. “I can finally put my feet into something that fits.”

“I’ve never seen a man so obsessed with shoes. Is there something else about you, you need to tell me? Any other weird fetishes like wearing my underwear?”

He snorted as he remembered all the times in his childhood when he’d sliced his feet open because he’d been forced to go barefoot. “Hey, where I grew up, shoes that fit were a rare luxury and it’s one I’ve since grown way too accustomed to.” He noted the two backpacks at the foot of the sofa. Good. It looked like Digger had found the equipment they needed. He’d check it out more fully later. Right now he was dying to get cleaned up. And to get the ragged, scratchy hair off his face.

“I’m going to shower. Digger said in his note to make yourself at home.”

Shahara moved aside to let him pass. She watched him walk into the bathroom and didn’t move until she heard the water come on. All too easy, she could imagine him and that naked, ripped body glistening from the water.

Leaning back against the wall, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath to steady herself as a wave of fierce desire went through her.

What she wouldn’t give to be like Kasen. Her sister would be peeling off her own clothes right at this moment while she headed straight for Syn and that shower.

And she was sure it was a wondrous sight to watch the water drip off his chiseled features, catch in his dimple. See his wet, black hair curling around his neck and broad shoulders. Watch the water catch in the fine hairs on his legs, and other more intimate places.

To follow those droplets with her tongue while she suckled hard muscles that . . .

She let out an appreciative breath.

He would be magnificent. If only she were different.

Still, she couldn’t quench the fire in her blood. What would it be like to make love to a man like him? To feel his strong arms hold her tight while he kissed her softly until she begged for mercy?

Shahara bit her lip in indecision. Was all of his kindness just a deception?

Was Syn like Gaelin, deceiving her with a false facade, waiting until he’d weakened her defenses before he struck?

Something told her Syn wasn’t like that and yet she couldn’t bring herself to trust him. She couldn’t afford to be wrong again.

Sighing, she pushed herself away and went to find something to eat.

A very short time later Syn joined her in the kitchen.

“What smells so good?” he asked, walking to the counter.