Born of Fire

“But Syn . . .”


He let go of her hand and brushed a stray strand of hair off her cheek. “Listen to me, I swear there’s nothing in there to be afraid of. I used to live in the catacombs and they’re the safest place to be found on this planet.”

His words shocked her so much that she forgot her fear. “You did what?”

“He lived here as a kid,” Vik said as he joined them and flew into the entrance. Opening his mouth, he shined a light for them to see into darkness.

Syn held his hand out to her. “It’ll be all right. I promise.”

Gathering her courage, she took his hand and allowed him to lead her into a waking nightmare.

Once inside, she decided he was right. It wasn’t so bad. As far as the light carried, all she could see were bronze plaques placed on the black-veined marble walls. It simply looked like an endless government corridor, not a cryptic tomb.

Thank goodness. She just hated the thought of what happened to people when they died. Most of all, she hated the thought of it being her family.

Silence buzzed in her ears, broken only by an occasional mournful cry of the wind and the sounds of their boots clicking against the ceramic floor and the metallic whisper of Vik’s wings.

To her eternal relief, no bodies or bones could be seen. And other than the coldness, it bore no resemblance to a burial shrine at all.

Syn squeezed her hand comfortingly. “I told you there was nothing to fear.”

Not willing to admit aloud that he was right, she asked, “Where are we going?”

“There’s a secret entrance that lets out near a spaceport. It was built four hundred years ago during the Religious Wars, when the temple was used as a military outpost, to allow the priestesses to escape if they were attacked by enemies. I figure we’ll wait there until dark, then head out and find a way off this place.”

They passed several intersecting hallways. Resisting the urge to look down them lest she see something to dislodge her courage, Shahara focused her stare on the floor directly in front of them.

Syn navigated the corridors like a pro.

“Just how many priestess are buried here?” she asked, noting the endless rows of plaques.

“A little over thirty-two thousand.”

Her eyes widened. “You counted?”

“I spent a lot of time here as a kid.”

Vik made a sound of agreement. “He used to pretend they were his guardians who watched out for him.”

He cast an evil grimace at the mechbot. “Thanks, Vik. Want to emasculate me a little more?”

“Okay. You have many other more embarrassing moments.”

“Yeah, and for your own personal safety, you might not want to go there.”

Shahara shook her head at their snipes. “You two argue like an old married couple.”

Syn didn’t respond as they finally reached the end of the hallway. He knelt down and brushed dust out of a barely noticeable crack in the marble. “It looks like it’ll still open.”

Shifting his position, he sat down. “Are you going to stand there or what?”

She sat down opposite of him and wrapped her arms around her chest. As she leaned back against the wall, cold seeped into every part of her body. There was a bit of a breeze that whispered through the hallway, cutting to her bones. “It’s kind of chilly in here, isn’t it?”

He gave her an odd half smile before spreading his arms and legs wide. “Well, you know what they say about conserving body heat.”

She debated the sanity of sitting in the circle of his arms. If he were anyone else, she’d gut him for the mere proposition, but after all they’d been through, she found her body moving toward him of its own volition.

She tensed for a moment.

“I won’t hurt you,” he said, his voice soothing. “Just pretend I’m Caillen.”

Yeah, right. Caillen had never felt this good. And the rush of heat through her body . . . it would be disgusting if it were Caillen who made her feel like this.

Shahara relaxed against his chest and allowed the scent and warmth of his body to engulf her. He rested his arms on his bent knees and she found herself longing for him to put them around her, to hold her tight.

His breath fell down her cheek, rustling her hair and bringing a tingle to her arms.

Syn watched the way her breasts tightened beneath the thin fabric of her black shirt. His mouth watered, aching for just a tiny taste of the warm soft flesh he’d glimpsed when he’d stumbled onto her naked. It was all he could do to keep his hand away from the taut peak.

Never in his life could he remember wanting a woman this badly. If only she would cooperate, he would really enjoy the next few hours of their wait.

In that instant he knew he was going to have her. That he must have her.

But not here on the cold floor like some animal satisfying a basic itch. She deserved better than that.

First, he had to find some way to make her trust him. To make her willingly submit to his touch. She was terrified of men, his kiss had proven that.