Raised in Fire (Fire and Ice Trilogy #2)

My smile at his humanlike antics turned brittle. My heart was fluttering. Actual, honest-to-goodness fluttering. This wasn’t good. A heart didn’t belong anywhere near this situation.

I about-faced and made for the door between our suites. It was time to get myself back under control. Thankfully, logic had returned, and I knew without a doubt that I could never go down this road again. Darius would be good on blood until we got out of here, and then he could go back to using very pretty humans who fawned all over him, and maybe I could date a human who wouldn’t try to manipulate me. Or at least wouldn’t succeed at manipulating me if he did try.

A pang of regret hit my heart. Damn it!

Back in my room, I snatched up my phone, shivering now that I was separated from the warmth of his body. I didn’t recognize the number of the two missed calls. After slipping on a white, fluffy robe provided by this fine establishment, I listened to the new message.

Tiredness fled.

I shrugged out of the robe and hurried to don my leather.

Ouch. I gingerly buttoned up my pants, not comfortable in such thick, unforgiving material. Sure, the material was worn in, and therefore softer, but loose sweats would probably be more my speed after my night with Darius.

He really should’ve stopped after the second time. Or even the third. I would’ve been fine after the third.

I tied my hair up, strapped on my weapons, and ran to the door. While jogging down the hall, I tapped the missed call and put the phone to my ear.

“Detective Allen,” came the gruff answer.

“It’s Reagan. I got your message. You found another body?”

“Yeah. We’re at the site now. The MLE office can’t get here for another few hours.”

“They aren’t going to be of much help to you. Hold on.” I stopped at the front desk and caught the eye of one of the women. “I’m with Darius. I need a car.”

“Darius…? Do you have a last name—”

“I’ll take care of that,” the other woman said, stepping closer to the first. She nodded at me. “I’ll have one brought right up. Do you also need a driver?”

I hesitated for a moment. I’d sold my mom’s car so I could afford to move to the city, and I hadn’t driven since. And this was a new town. “That would be great,” I said. “I’ll be out front.”

The woman nodded and moved away, leaving the other employee blinking at me in confusion. I didn’t stay to explain, but headed out the sliding glass door at the front of the lobby.

“Sorry about that,” I said to Oscar as I took a seat on the bench to the right of the door. “I’m just arranging for a car. Like I said, the MLE office isn’t going to be much help. They’ve been warned away from the case.”

“Warned away? By whom?”

“It’s political magical stuff. Just know that they won’t be doing much. You still got me, though. I can handle it.”

“Speaking of handling it, we’ve got an unsolved case from last night. A man got hit by a car. Another man tried to save him, but it was too late. That man, and a woman, fled from the scene of the crime. You know anything about that?”

They thought the car had killed him? “Nope. Not a thing.”

“The descriptions of the two who fled sound remarkably like you and Mr. Durant.”

“That right? Huh. Well, there are an awful lot of blond girls dressed in leather who hang out with tall drinks of water. It’s trendy.”

“The bitch of it is, the guy had a broken neck and bruising from what appears to be physical violence, but no bruising from getting hit by the car.”

The Mercedes Darius had been driving pulled up in front of me. A building of a man with a stern face stepped out and came around to the rear passenger door. I waited for him to open it before sliding into the back seat.

“This is fascinating, but I don’t know what you want from me,” I said as the door closed.

“It was turned over to me because the witnesses swore the woman was levitating in the air,” Oscar said. “Being that all you magical people assume I have a problem with demon worshipers, I put two and two together. I don’t believe half of this shit, but at some point, you just have to roll with it.”

“You are long past that point. Look, I don’t know what you’re talking about. If I did, however, I would tell you that if someone was at the scene of that crime, and if they had a hand in that whack-a-doo affair, they did you a huge favor. I would also tell you that more crap is coming your way. Whatever was going on might’ve amped up a notch. I don’t have all the info yet, but from what I saw, which had nothing to do with a cracked neck, we’re looking at a big-time demon. Much more powerful than I’d anticipated. More powerful than I am, probably.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means we are up shit creek, and we better hope my mage friends brought an outboard motor, because paddles won’t be enough.”



The driver stopped behind two parked police cars with lights still flashing. People crowded on the street corner, holding coffees or just chatting with their heads close together. They kept shooting glances in the direction of the yellow police tape stretching across the sidewalk behind what looked like an Irish bar.

“Should I wait for you, Miss Somerset?” the driver asked, not putting the car in park.

“No. I can get a ride back to the hotel.”

He hefted himself out of the car, probably planning to come around and open my door. I didn’t wait on ceremony, and hopped out.

“Wait.” The driver held out a white card. “Call when you’re ready, and I’ll pick you up.”

“Question: does your boss employ discreet people?” I asked in a low tone.

Not one ounce of confusion or hesitation crossed his expression or bled into his bearing. “Absolutely.”

His body language had been answer enough. He’d probably seen some crazy crap, working for a vampire. Although maybe not as crazy as he was likely to see with me.

“Great.” I held up the card before slipping it into my pouch and saying thanks.

The small crowd on the corner made plenty of room for me to get by, their eyes sticking to my sword, my gun, or—and this was a first—my pouch. No one questioned my weapons. They probably thought I had legit permission to have them on my person. Which, in this state, I did not.

I found Oscar on the other side of the tape, a small leather book and pen in hand. The cop standing sentinel in front of the scene put his hand out.

“Detective,” I said, motioning at Oscar so the cop knew I had a friend on the inside. His gaze took in my various weapons, and a scowl flowered on his face. “Detective Allen,” I said, louder.

He looked up as the sentinel cop’s eyes narrowed. This cop clearly didn’t like it when riffraff tried to invade his crime scene. I’d seen that look a time or two in my past.

“Yes. Reagan, great. Let her through.”

The cop lowered his hand and shifted, but didn’t move completely out of the way.