Wicked Burn Read online

  The soldier chucked a still-bleeding Bear into the back of the SUV, and the entire vehicle shuddered in protest. The unconscious female was placed next to Nick, her head slumping against his shoulder.

  He must have blacked out during the drive, because he suddenly realized they’d arrived at the private section of the airport. His growl when a soldier tried to take Simone from him had the guy backing away, hand inching toward a weapon. Grunting, Nick stretched from the vehicle and hefted the still-silent witch across the tarmac and up the steps of a private Jetstream, while a soldier carried Tori Monzelle.

  “We’re locking you in the back,” the lead soldier said, his voice sounding tinny and far away.

  Nick nodded, needing more than ever to sit down but unwilling to show any weakness.

  Tori chose that moment to awaken, look around the plane, and start screaming.

  “Shut up,” the soldier carrying her said, grimacing.

  She struggled furiously, her face filling with red, her legs kicking out. “You don’t understand. God. Get me off this plane. Not near the cockpit. Oh God. Not near the cockpit. We won’t make it.”

  The soldier pinched her neck again, and she went limp with a soft whimper.

  “Tie her up and throw a blanket over her on the sofa,” the lead soldier ordered. “Take everybody else to the back. We’re behind schedule.”

  Nick eyed the soldier as he placed Tori on a sofa with a blanket. She’d be all right for the flight, and he needed to heal before trying to rescue anybody. With such an obvious phobia about flying, she’d be better off unconscious for the duration.

  Pain sliced through his torso from his ignored injures. He turned and staggered behind the two guys carrying Bear to a rather spacious bedroom. They rolled the unconscious shifter onto the bed and backed away, locking the door securely from the other side. Bear started snoring.

  Good sign.

  Nick gently placed Simone on the bed, his strength rapidly dwindling. Then he glanced around the area for any weapon. Nothing. There also wasn’t anything to block the door. While he’d be outgunned by the soldiers, he still wanted warning if anybody tried to enter the room while he was healing. So he grabbed Bear’s shoulders and yanked him from the bed. The bullet holes in his chest seemed to have finally closed, because the blood had stopped flowing.

  The shifter hit the floor hard, and Nick winced. He coughed but continued to drag Bear in front of the door. “Sorry, Bear.”

  Bear fell sideways, his head thunking on the thick carpet, his body easily blocking the door. His eyes didn’t open, and his snoring deepened.

  That would work.

  Nick stumbled back to the bed and fell facedown next to Simone. He just needed a couple hours of sleep to heal. At that point, he’d figure out what to do next.

  Simone mumbled something and curled into him. The scent of wild roses surrounded him, and he fell asleep with a smile tickling his lips.

  Chapter 4

  Simone struggled in her sleep, trying desperately to avoid the dream from taking her under. But after her injuries, her subconscious wasn’t strong enough. Once again, the dream won.

  She was been climbing the stairs to her new apartment overlooking the Liffey, her limbs heavy and her heart aching. Nicholai had left her only a week before, his eyes a chilling arctic as he told her it was over. They were over.

  She’d pleaded with him, offering to leave Ireland and live with his people. For him, she’d gladly give up her own destiny of ruling the Coven Nine.

  He’d said she had been a nice fuck, but he needed to return to real women. Demons only.

  She’d given him her virginity, and he’d given her pain. Thank God she hadn’t allowed him into her mind, or she’d be vulnerable even to the present time.

  Now, a week later, she’d been appointed for life to the Coven Nine. She’d rise to the top and become powerful, relying only on herself and not on any man. She’d learned that one the hard way.

  Tonight she’d even celebrate by herself, although her damn cousins were making her attend a family dinner in her honor the next night.

  Her hands were full of fresh bread and produce she’d purchased from street vendors. She was so caught up in her musings, she didn’t notice the presence of others in her flat until she’d shut the door and walked halfway to the kitchen.

  “Simone Brightston.” The deep voice echoed around the room.

  She’d dropped the groceries, pivoting to defend herself. Two males faced her, one adult and one a teenager. Brown shaggy hair, brown eyes, both fit. “Who the hell are you?”

  The kid cleared his throat. “I’m Beauregard.”

  All right. The kid had bruises down the side of his face that seemed to continue into his oversized shirt. “What happened to your face?”

  The kid flushed and looked away.

  “You are Simone. I heard about your council appointment.” The adult looked her over. His lip twisted.

  Her appointment had made news all around the world. “All right.”

  He breathed out. “Vivienne Northcutt is your mother.”

  Awareness tingled through the air. Something familiar and yet not really. Simone slid one foot behind the other, in case she needed to kick. “Who are you?” she asked again, wondering whether she could get to the door before he attacked. She could scream, but the Enforcers weren’t back home yet, so her breath would be wasted.

  Something told her that wasting breath wouldn’t be a good idea with the male facing her.

  She concentrated, trying to feel beneath his skin. Not a witch or a demon. She knew those signatures. A vampire? Possibly, but it didn’t feel quite right. “I’m not going to ask you again,” she said grimly.

  He smiled then, showing long canines. “I like your grit.”

  The kid seemed to relax. “Just answer his question, would you?”

  Simone edged slightly toward the door. “Vivienne is my mother.”

  The adult lifted his chin and inhaled, his nostrils flaring. “I can smell her on you. You are part witch.”

  Simone had stilled. Part witch? “I’m all witch.”

  “Is that what she told you?” the adult asked. “Where did you get the last name of Brightston?”

  Her mother had said that she was a bright light in Viv’s life. It wasn’t uncommon for witches to use new first and last names for their offspring. “None of your business. Who are you?” Her knees began to tremble.

  “I’m Roman. Has your mother ever mentioned me?”

  Simone tensed to go for the knife in her right boot. “No. Sorry.”

  He pulled out a green gun—one that shot lasers. Immortal weapons had always been eons ahead of human ones. “That’s all right. Though you’d think the fact that I impregnated her would’ve made her track me down.”

  “What?” Simone asked, her gaze going to the barrel.

  The kid’s eyes widened. “You said you wouldn’t hurt her.”

  “Shut up.” Roman swung, much faster than Simone would’ve expected, and smashed the kid in the temple.

  The teen dropped like a weight tossed into a river and kept going, crashing right out the window. The impact of his body hitting the ground below rolled in with the wind.

  Simone gasped. “What have you done?”

  “The stupid prick knows not to question me.” Roman’s broad shoulders hunched, and his eyes darkened to beyond black. “You need to come with me.”

  The words took a moment to penetrate her shocked mind. The lunatic wanted to kidnap her? “My family won’t pay a ransom.” There was no way this male was her father, was there? “So leave.”

  “I’m your family now.” Roman’s eyes narrowed. “Your mother obviously has done a horrendous job, considering you’re about to be mated to a demon. I saw the land deeds for the cozy little cottage.”

  All right, the guy was crazy. “The demon is long gone. Get out, or I’m going to hurt you.” Her voice quavered, and she infused strength into it.

  He sighed. �
��I don’t want to shoot you, but I will. Then you can heal at home. Your new home.”

  Fire lanced down her arms, but before she could throw plasma, he pulled the trigger.

  A bullet struck Simone’s chest, and pain exploded through her torso and down her shoulder. She cried out and fell to one knee, gasping for air. It wouldn’t kill her, but recuperation would take a while.

  Fire danced down her arms, and she started to throw, going into a survival mode she’d only heard about. Hissing and throwing fire, she yanked her knife free of her boot and lunged at her attacker.

  Something smashed hard into her face, and darkness assailed her.

  Then nothing. No sights, no sounds, no feelings.

  Sometime later, she came awake, her entire body hurting. Groaning, she sat up to see Roman’s lifeless corpse sprawled across her floor. The blood around where his head should’ve been had already congealed.

  Bile rose in her throat.

  She sucked it down and then saw his head beneath her table.

  Oh God. Somehow, she’d killed him. She tried to crawl forward and reached the window, grabbing the sill to look down at the cobblestones. Blood marred the area, but the kid had disappeared; he must still be alive.

  “Um, lady? I was out cold for a while.” The kid limped inside, and his eyes widened. “Oh my God. You killed him.”

  Had she? She must have. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, trying to stand up.

  He reached her and helped her, already strong at his young age. “As a father, he failed both of us. I’m sorry, too.” Blood matted the kid’s shaggy hair.

  Dots covered her vision, and she tried to remain upright. “Was he really my father?”

  “Aye. Sorry about that.” The kid shook his head. “What now?”

  Simone swallowed. “Now we get help from my mother. She has a lot of questions to answer for me.”

  Beauregard nodded. “I have family across the sea, and I don’t want to stay here anymore.”

  “We’ll get you there, sweetie. I promise.”

  Simone awoke from the dream with a heavy weight on her chest. Holding perfectly still, she opened her eyes, her senses going on full alert. She glanced down. A thickly muscled arm was thrown across the tops of her breasts.

  The smell of a storm about to strike, pine-filled and wild, surrounded her.

  Nicholai.

  Sadness swamped her for the briefest of seconds. There was a time, not too long ago, when she’d belonged next to him. She looked toward her left. He lay on his stomach, sprawled carelessly across most of the bed, his arm over her. Broad muscles made up his back and tapered down to his trim waist. His head was turned away from her, and it took every ounce of her self-control to keep from running her fingers through his dark blond hair. He’d grown it almost to his shoulders, giving him a bit of a pirate look.

  A rumbling broke through her musings, destroying the silence. “What the hell?” she whispered.

  “Bear snores.” Nick turned his head, his dark eyes sleepy, lines cut into the sides of his mouth. The air around them nearly sparkled from the healing waves cascading from both of them. “How are you?”

  “Finding it difficult to breathe with you trapping me in the bed,” she whispered, trying to clear her mind.

  Nick lifted an eyebrow. “There was a time you liked me trapping you in bed.”

  Heat coursed through her, zinging around her abdomen and landing in a very private place. “That was then.” She pushed his arm off and tried to sit up to get a better look at the shifter lying against the door with one boot kicked off. “What in the world is Bear doing on the floor?”

  Nick rolled over and sat up, a dimple playing in his right cheek. “I needed a doorstop.”

  Humor bubbled through her, totally inappropriate for the moment. She cleared her throat. “The plane isn’t moving.”

  “Landed about five minutes ago.” Nick scrubbed both hands down his face, ending at the shadow lining his jaw. “I figure they’re waiting for more soldiers before letting us out.”

  That quickly, all humor deserted her. “Listen, Nick—”

  “No.” He pushed from the bed and gently kicked Bear in the leg. “This is not a place to argue.”

  Oh, he didn’t get to dictate anything. “I don’t want or need your help. When we get out of here, you will leave me alone.” She could atone for her own sins while fighting the trumped-up charges.

  “Bullshit.”

  “Well.” She got up, too, irritation pricking along her back to her neck. “Get the fuck out of my life, Veis.”

  He half-turned. “Baby, you want to lose the attitude right now.” There was the stone-cold killer whispered about by frightened immortals.

  Rolling her eyes would be undignified, so she tamped down her anger. “Don’t call me baby.”

  “Then don’t be stupid.” He kicked Bear harder.

  “Whatever we had was over a century ago, because of you, and you’ve given up any claim on me. Please go back to the demon nation and let me take care of myself.” Her family had no right to ask for his help.

  His chin lowered then, the movement deliberate and a little threatening. “Wrong.”

  Her foot itched with the ridiculous need to stomp. She plastered on a simpering smile. “Excuse me?”

  He chuckled demon low. “Trying hard to rein in that temper, are you? How long do you think you’ll last?”

  Heat flowed through her veins along with anger, ready to be freed in the force of fire. She licked her lips. “My temper is well controlled these days, Nicholai.”

  “Now that’s a pity . . . and probably untrue.”

  “What am I wrong about?”

  “What we had is not over. I have not given up any claim on you.” Every once in a while, his century-ago Russian accent returned, the sound deep and mysterious.

  Her mouth opened and then snapped shut.

  A muscle ticked in his neck. “I let you go because I had no choice and figured I wouldn’t live to see peace. Yet I have, you’re unattached for a reason, and now, your time of freedom is up.”

  She blinked. Time was up? Panic threatened to choke her, and she shook her head. “You’re crazy.”

  “There is no doubt about that, and I also know I’m not as smooth as I used to be. It has been too long since I tried kindness.” Even with the matter-of-fact tone, his voice roughened as he leaned down and pinched Bear’s nose closed.

  The shifter jumped up, swatting away Nick’s hand. “What the fuck?” He leaped to his feet and stumbled back into the wall, hair raising on his arms. Dark hair.

  “Don’t shift,” Simone hissed, backing away. The force of the change inside the small room would be painful.

  His brown gaze focused on her, and he straightened his shoulders. The darker hair receded. “Where. Am. I?” he growled, the sound more animal than human.

  “My guess?” Nick took a step back, obviously giving Bear some room to contain himself. “Ireland?”

  Bear breathed out, his gaze remaining on Simone’s. “I can’t be in Ireland,” he whispered. “You know that.”

  “I know.” Simone held up both hands to placate him. Life had just gotten way out of control, and she couldn’t see a way to fix everything. “It’s okay, though. I promise. Nobody knows anything about you being here. You haven’t broken the contract.”

  “I’m not worried about myself, and you know it.” He shook his head, fury darkening his honeyed eyes to nearly black. “I knew I shouldn’t let the Enforcers into Seattle. I just knew it.”

  She winced. “Aye.” Were his eyes changing color? Bear’s eyes never changed color. What in the world? Something was wrong with the lighting.

  “Fuck it, Simone.” Bear knocked his head back against the wall. “I signed a contract, and if your mother knows I breached it, no matter what the reason, I’ll lose all of my holdings.”

  “She probably already knows, but we’ll just get you out of here, and she’ll ignore the situation.” Fear settled in her s
tomach, and she tried to keep her voice soft.

  Bear growled low. “I have other enemies in Ireland that you don’t even know about. They’ll try to take my fuckin’ head.”

  Simone stepped back. “Who?”

  He shook his head. “None of your business.”

  Ouch. That kind of hurt.

  Nick’s gaze hardened as he looked from Bear to Simone. “It’s time to catch me up, little bunny.”

  Bear pushed off from the door. “Not your monkey, not your circus. Both of you stay out of my business.” He turned and set his stance. “Get ready.”

  Simone moved forward. “Bear—”

  He planted his boot in the center of the door, and it flew right off the hinges and through the plane. Guns cocked. Simone peered around him to see at least four soldiers with green guns pointed at Bear. The kind of guns that shot lasers that turned into metal upon hitting immortal flesh. Plasma was too unstable for a plane.

  Bear looked down at his hole-riddled sock. “What happened to my other boot?”

  Simone grabbed the boot and hit him in the hip with it.

  Nick grasped her arm and pushed her none too gently behind him. “This will be explained,” he said softly enough that only she and Bear could hear it.

  Bear turned full around, his back to the weapons. “Simone? Does he know anything?”

  She tried not to grimace. “No. Of course not.”

  Nick inhaled sharply.

  As she took in Nick’s raised eyebrows, she knew without question he wouldn’t let it go. No matter what happened next, Nicholai Veis would get his answers, and right now, protecting Bear was all that mattered. So she leaned up on her toes and set her mouth next to Nick’s ear. “Bear’s real name is Beauregard, and he’s my brother,” she whispered.

  Chapter 5

  Ireland smelled the same. Nicholai Veis sat in a waiting area far underground in the secret Coven Nine location after a shower and change of clothing. The witches did insist on their comforts, now, didn’t they? At the moment, Simone was probably getting dressed somewhere else. The second she returned, she was explaining her statement about Bear to him. It didn’t make a lick of sense.