Born of Fire

Her panic swelled. There wasn’t a door or any other means of leaving the roof they were on. “Where do we go from here?”


He leaned over the side and looked down. “How much do you weigh?”

“A hundred and three, why?”

He didn’t answer as he pressed the keys on his wrist computer.

“How are we getting off this roof?”

That damnable grin she was learning to despise returned to his handsome face. “You don’t really want me to answer that question.”

A cold chill crept up her spine. “Why?”

He spread his arms wide. “Come to papa, darling. We’re going to take another ride.”

She shook her head. “If you think I’m scaling down the side of this building . . .”

“We don’t have time to scale it.”

“Then what are we going to do?”

He spread his arms wider and winked at her. A horrible lump grew in her belly. She must have died and been sent to hell.

Shots fired around them.

Vik dipped below the building. “Better hurry, bonebags.”

“C’mon, Shahara.”

Cursing, she moved to stand in front of him. He took out a strap.

“What are you doing?” she asked as he wrapped it around her buttocks and secured her to him in a most distracting way.

“Hold tight.”

She was beginning to despise that phrase. Dutifully, she wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Wrap your legs around my waist.”

She glared at him. “I don’t think so.”

“It’s not sexual. Just do it.”

She obeyed, then wished she hadn’t. They were locked in such an intimate embrace that it brought fire to her cheeks. Between her legs, touching the very part of her that begged for him, she could feel the tight muscles that lined his stomach. Her breasts were pressed firmly to his chest where they took up a dreadful throb of their own.

What was she doing? She never touched a man like this.

And before she could finish that thought, he put his arms around her waist and stepped over the edge of the building. “Oh my God,” she screamed as they plummeted toward the alley far below.

“Stop that shrieking before you pierce my eardrums.” His arms tightened around her. “Just hold on to me and pray.”

Shahara buried her head against his shoulder and locked her limbs tightly around him.

Suddenly, she heard him curse over the rushing wind. “What is it?”

“We’re going to die.”

“What!”

“Hold on.”

“Hold on,” she repeated in stunned disbelief. “What do you mean hold on?” If she held him any tighter, she’d snap him in two.

Then she felt it. They were finally slowing down.

With one last jerk, they stopped falling. Or maybe they were dead . . . Syn’s arms tightened around her and when he spoke, there was a note of humor in his voice. “You can open your eyes now. We’re safe. But you can stay in my arms as long as you like.”

Shahara looked up at him, wanting to kill him. But her body wouldn’t cooperate. Weak with relief, all she could do was hold him close. “I hate you, convict.”

He laughed, causing his stomach muscles to touch her in the most intimate of places.

Shahara just glared at him. “How can you find this funny? You almost killed us.”

“Me? You’re the one who lied about your weight.”

“I don’t think so. When was the last time you stepped on a scale?”

He cocked a brow. “Good point.”

She extracted herself from his arms, then punched him in the shoulder. “You could have told me you had antigrav boots. I thought we were dead.”

“I didn’t want to tell you what I was doing in case you decided not to jump.”

“That was mean.”

“You’ll get over it.”

“Only after I kill you.”

“There they are!”

They looked up in unison to see two men running toward them. Syn grabbed her by the arm and headed in the opposite direction as Vik flew toward their pursuers to slow them down. As they ran, Shahara decided she didn’t like being on this end of the chase. At all.

She much preferred being the hunter.

Syn led her down a dark alleyway. They jumped over garbage bins and homeless derelicts, and all the while, she could hear her pursuers coming ever closer while Vik insulted them and they shot at him. Her heartbeat drummed in her ears. Syn looked so calm as he ran, checking over his shoulder every now and again, that she felt like strangling him.

Suddenly, a fence cut them off. She started climbing it only to find razor wire lining the top. “What are we going to do?”

“Jump down.”

She did and he caught her against him.

Terrified, Shahara looked past him to see two men coming straight at them.

Syn pulled a hand-sized canister out of his pack, then tossed it at their pursuers. Smoke exploded.

“Hold your breath,” he said, taking out his baton. He extended it to half its length and used it to pry up the bottom of the fence. “Go.”

She crawled through the space, then looked back at him. With one graceful move he rolled under the fence, retracted the baton, and put it back inside his pack.

She heard their pursuers scrambling through the smoke and taking more shots at Vik. “How long will that hold them?”