Blaze of Secrets (Asylums for Magical Threats) Read online

  Hearing that someone wanted to protect her was new—foreign even. But, as much as she wanted to believe it, not even her own parents had fought to keep her. There was no way a man she’d only known for two days would risk his life to save hers.

  Besides, information was all she had to offer. If she gave it up easily, she’d have nothing to bargain with later. “Then teach me to defend myself, and you won’t have to worry about me.” Jaxton looked unconvinced at her demand, and that irritated her. “So, will you train me or not?”

  He looked at her for a long moment before nodding. “I will find out the truth, Kiarra, but right now I’m more concerned about you being able to defend yourself. Follow me.”

  Jaxton turned without another glance, and Kiarra struggled to keep up with his long strides.

  As Jaxton led Kiarra to the makeshift basement-turned-training-room, he repeatedly clenched and unclenched his right hand, wanting to punch someone. The AMT bastards had whipped her.

  He’d only seen a fraction of the scar tissue on her back, peeking out from the straps of her sports bra, but the scars had been raised, and thick, which meant that someone had deliberately wanted to leave a mark. The pattern suggested more than one session.

  Kiarra was providing Jaxton a closer look at what was really happening inside the AMT, and while it did nothing to help his blood pressure, the revelations kept giving him ideas of how to get the general Feiru public on DEFEND’s side. But he needed more information, and proof to offer. Kiarra wasn’t talking much yet, but he was nothing if not tenacious.

  All he could do for now was to make her a little less vulnerable. While he would slowly get her into shape, it would be months before she could take an opponent in hand-to-hand combat. His best option was to train Kiarra on how to use her elemental magic.

  Jaxton wasn’t a first-born, and had no latent abilities that he was aware of, but he’d worked for years with three first-borns who were highly skilled in elemental magic and he’d learned enough to get a novice’s training started.

  He stopped on the mat in the middle of the room. Kiarra finally caught up with him, looked at him expectantly, albeit with a scowl, and said, “Well? What’s first?”

  The stunt on the stairs must’ve triggered her true colors, allowing them to the forefront. Time would tell if they stayed front and center or retreated as soon as Kiarra was out of his sight.

  They stood a few feet apart, giving Jaxton his first real look at Kiarra in nothing but a sports bra and stretchy black pants. He still couldn’t believe this tiny woman had knocked the wind out of him not five minutes ago. “Right. Size and muscle aren’t everything. You need to play to your strengths. Some people have speed, others quick reflexes. In your case, you need to learn how to control your elemental magic.”

  She shifted her weight, her newly earned confidence fading. “What if I can’t use it?”

  He wondered what had caused her sudden unease. “There will be times when you can’t, but we’ll get to that later. As long as your hands are free, you have a big advantage over others.” He glimpsed at the far wall to check his bearings. “Now, put one of your hands to the south, like this.” Jaxton demonstrated, his palm facing down, slightly outstretched.

  He waited, but Kiarra remained silent and shifted her weight again. Clearly something was wrong.

  He raised an eyebrow. “You made a huge fuss about me training you and now you won’t cooperate? What’s going on?”

  At length she said, “It’s not that I don’t want to train, but learning how to control my elemental fire is a waste of time.”

  He resisted a sigh. “Spit it out already, Kiarra.”

  Some of the fire returned to her eyes, but her voice wasn’t as defiant as before when she said, “I don’t have any elemental magic.”

  “What are you talking about? You’re a first-born, aren’t you?”

  Her cheeks flushed. “No, I just decided to take an extended holiday somewhere cheap and the AMT was my best option.”

  “I don’t need your sarcasm, pet. Just answer the bloody question.”

  Kiarra took a step toward him. “I am not your pet. And of course I’m a first-born. But just because I was born with the ability to control elemental fire doesn’t mean it can’t be taken away.”

  Jaxton blinked. What the hell was she talking about? Tired of the run around, Jaxton took the last step between them and gently gripped her shoulders. “Explain yourself.”

  She tried to push him away, but he had at least a hundred pounds on her. He gave her a little shake and growled, “Now.”

  Her eyes burned with a mixture of emotions that Jaxton couldn’t decipher. But there was definitely anger. Fury, even. Yet at the same time, she looked about ready to cry.

  As if sensing his thoughts, she snapped her eyelids closed, shutting him out. He gave her a gentle shake. “I let the information about your scars go, but I won’t let you out of my sight till you answer my question. What do you mean elemental magic can be taken away?”

  A few more heartbeats passed before she opened her eyes, looking far more composed than a minute ago. She unclenched her jaw, never breaking her gaze. “I will tell you if you promise me a favor in the future.”

  He resisted the urge to pin her up against the wall and intimidate the answer out of her; that would only scare her more. “Fine, I promise,” he managed to spit out, unsure if he’d see it through or not.

  Her deep brown eyes searched his. “Swear on your brother’s life.”

  Only years of training kept his temper in check. “I swear on Garrett’s life. Now you’d bloody well better tell me what you mean when you say can’t gather elemental magic anymore.”

  When she finally spoke, her voice was barely audible. “Inside the F-block, they’re developing a formula that messes with our DNA and mutates it so that the ability to control elemental magic fades. It doesn’t work on everyone, but it worked on me. I haven’t been able to gather elemental fire in nearly two years.”

  Kiarra waited for Jaxton to call her a liar, but he just stood there, gripping her arms in silence.

  Her heartbeat thundered in her ears. Here she was, yet again, waiting for someone to decide her fate. If he handed her back to the AMT, or to another research facility, Kiarra wasn’t sure she could survive it.

  For a brief time, she’d felt like a person again. Not a test subject, nor a lab rat; a person with feelings and opinions. She wanted the chance to do many of the things she’d spent her adult life reading about. She hated that the man in front of her would decide whether that future was possible or not.

  Jaxton released her arms and gently lifted her bandaged left arm. He traced the edge of the bandage, the light touch nearly a tickle. “That’s why you were trying to kill yourself. You didn’t want to become patient zero.”

  “Yes,” Kiarra breathed, surprised at how quickly he’d worked that out.

  “Right.” Jaxton released her arm and took a step back. “When we’re done here, Darius will draw some blood.” He put a hand up to silence her. “No arguments. We need to know what they’re brewing inside the F-block, and quickly.”

  Kiarra swallowed, afraid she’d start crying. He was going to use her as a lab rat, just like the others.

  She turned and started walking toward the door, but Jaxton beat her too it, blocking the exit. What does he want now? “Get out of the way.”

  “Not until we’re done with your lesson.”

  She looked up at that. “You still want to train me?”

  Jaxton nodded. “Especially now. You’re weak, physically, and if we’re to get you in any kind of fighting shape, it’s going to take a lot of hard work. You up to it, pet?”

  She was speechless. Maybe this man was different.

  He raised his arm, palm out toward her. “If you’re in, give me your hand.”

  She looked at Jaxton’s palm, but didn’t reach for it. “Why would you commit to so much effort when I probably will never be strong enough to fight like
you or your men?”

  Jaxton wiggled his fingers. “The second rule of self-defense: have confidence. If you falter for even a second, your enemy will spot it. So I need to know if you’re going to keep doubting yourself or do you believe you could become the most arse-kicking, magic-free first-born in the world?”

  Chapter Eight

  James Sinclair sipped his whiskey while he waited for his security guards to finish patting down his latest visitor. Geoffrey Winter wouldn’t be the first person who’d tried to sneak in a recording device or a weapon. Not everyone understood Sinclair’s vision.

  Collins, his chief security officer, gave the all-clear and stepped aside, letting Winter into the room before closing the door. Sinclair waited for a red light to turn on above the door, signaling that the jamming device was engaged, before he gestured toward the paper at the far end of the table. “I need you to set up a meeting with the people on that list, at one of the pre-approved locations, within the week.”

  Winter scanned the names. “What reason should I give?”

  “Tell them I have information that will impress their superiors.”

  Winter looked up. “Does MI5 know about the information you’re going to share?”

  “No, and it’s going to stay that way.” Even from across the table, Sinclair saw Winter clench his jaw. He could tell that the man was close to breaking after all these years, so Sinclair placed his drink down and decided to remind Winter who was in charge. “I hear your daughter is doing well in school, Winter.”

  Winter clenched a fist at his side. “Leave her out of this.”

  Sinclair ignored him, needing to make his point, and continued, “Children grow up so fast, and to think, the little half-Feiru will hit magical maturity before you know it. ”

  “My daughter won’t have any elemental abilities.”

  “Ah, but her mother was Feiru, and you know the ability passes through her. What would your superiors think if they heard one of their chief Feiru liaisons had slipped and dallied with one of his charges? Even you realized the mistake, tossing away the poor Feiru woman to marry a human.”

  Pain and anger flashed across Winter’s face. “Malia understood the circumstances. We did what was best for our daughter.”

  “Tell yourself that, if it makes you feel better. All I care is that you keep this information private and secret from the MI5. My eyes and ears will alert me if you slip up. You don’t want to waste the few remaining years you have left with your daughter, now do you?”

  Winter said nothing and Sinclair smiled. All it took was a reminder of what Winter had to lose and the man morphed back into one of his more cooperative contacts. Whenever Sinclair threatened his daughter’s life, Winter understood that Sinclair wasn’t bluffing—one of Winter’s co-workers had tried to outsmart Sinclair and was now spending a life sentence inside a mental health facility.

  Sinclair’s methods and staff may be unconventional, but they did their jobs. Unlike the human intelligence agencies around the world, where petty arguments and internal battles for power overshadowed efficiency, Sinclair’s people believed in the bigger picture and realized it would take patience to achieve it. Each and every one of his staff had something riding on the success of his R&C—Repeal Article I and Contain First-born Magic—campaign.

  Winter stood up straight, his face once again emotionless. “Anything else?”

  “Do you have any news on the concentration of DEFEND activity in the North of England?”

  Winter shook his head. “We know they have a training facility there, but we haven’t pinpointed its location. A few agents are undercover, working their way through the pubs in Manchester. There’s talk of a subterranean network, near the Manchester Arndale shopping center.”

  Sinclair’s reports had said the same thing, but he’d wanted to test Winter’s coerced loyalty. He’d passed this time. “How long before you can gain access to the underground Manchester and Salford Junction Canal tunnels?”

  “Many parts of the former canal are deemed unsafe, so it’ll take a few more weeks, maybe a month.”

  Sinclair needed access to the sole DEFEND training facility in England as soon as possible, but in the scheme of things, a few weeks would be soon enough. “Fine.” Sinclair waved his hand in dismissal. “Let me know when you have access so I can send my people up north. You can go now.”

  Winter nodded. He knocked at the door and Collins escorted him out, allowing Sinclair’s assistant, Phuong, into the room. She handed him a folded note, sealed with wax. An old method of security, but combined with the hidden ink pocket that would release when the wax seal was broken, it had proven an effective one.

  He slid his finger under the seal, careful to let the ink absorb into the paper and not his finger, and read the note: D.K. on board. Tonight, 9 p.m.

  Sinclair smiled. With five local councils now on his side, he only needed ten more before he could start Phase II of his campaign.

  Chapter Nine

  When Kiarra finally placed her hand in Jaxton’s, a jolt of heat shot up his arm, but disappeared as quickly as it had come. He’d learned with Garrett as a teenager that elemental fire left behind a burn, so the heat couldn’t have been real.

  Her response earlier, to his reasoning as to why she’d tried to commit suicide, had been genuine. At least she believed it to be truth. Her blood would either confirm or deny it, creating even more questions.

  He would discuss Kiarra’s confession later with Taka. Right now, he needed to address Kiarra’s weaknesses and vulnerability as best he could. He’d best start at the beginning and test out her endurance and strength levels.

  Kiarra was staring at their clasped hands, a mixture of panic and confusion on her face. He couldn’t allow her to retreat back to her AMT-conditioned persona, so Jaxton went into trainer mode and took a better grip on her hand. “No matter how big or strong a person appears, everyone shares the same delicate places on their body that, with the right amount of applied pressure or force, can buy you enough time to get away.

  “Hands and wrists are delicate.” He adjusted his grip, taking hold of her wrist. “So when someone grabs you like this, you can break their hold in one of three ways…”

  After demonstrating the three methods, Jaxton once again took hold of Kiarra’s wrist. “Now try it.”

  She smacked the heel of her palm against his forearm to no effect. “Harder. In this situation, you want to inflict as much damage as possible, which requires greater force.” Kiarra hesitated, so he added, “Don’t worry, you can’t hurt me.”

  His dismissal had the desired effect. Kiarra narrowed her eyes and swung hard. This time he actually felt a sting on his arm, even if she hadn’t managed to break free. “Better. But remember, your best weapon is surprise. Try something else, so I won’t brace myself for the same attack.”

  Jaxton once again took hold of her wrist and noticed the faint sweat on her brow. After a scant fifteen minutes, Kiarra was already getting a workout.

  The arm in his hand went slack and Kiarra began to teeter. Jaxton went to catch her, but Kiarra snapped into action, her free hand moving to his grip and prying his fingers back. He tightened his hand and moved his arm just in time to prevent her from succeeding.

  He gave her wrist a gentle squeeze. “That was good, but can you do it under pressure?”

  She raised her chin. “I will with practice.”

  Jaxton smiled. “All right, pet, I’m taking off the kid gloves. Let’s try this for real.”

  He spent the next hour demonstrating and making Kiarra perform escape techniques. Much like her fake fainting move, she surprised him by knowing some of the moves without instruction, claiming she’d seen them before inside the AMT.

  He added “observant” to her list of strengths.

  When fatigue started to slow her reaction time, Jaxton tossed her a towel from the side table and said, “That’s all for today. Make sure to do the stretches I demonstrated before bed, and meet me again tomorrow
, at the same time.”

  Slightly out of breath, Kiarra wiped the sweat off her face and neck. Jaxton followed the movements with his eyes. Without the demands of training, Kiarra was morphing back into a woman, no longer a mere student.

  The celibacy he’d enforced over the last year, as he’d searched for Garrett, was starting to take a toll.

  Kiarra caught his eye and tossed the towel away. “I want one more go.”

  With years of practice under his belt, Jaxton kept his face expressionless, unwilling to show Kiarra how she affected him. “I appreciate your enthusiasm, but one of the most important rules of training is to not overstretch yourself. An injury would only set you back.”

  A look that Kiarra wouldn’t have dared give him a mere two hours ago, one of a face pinched in irritation, was in full force. He started to rethink his no-holds-barred approach.

  Kiarra raised an eyebrow and said, “Are you afraid that I’ll best you?”

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  Kiarra walked toward him, her hips swaying like she meant business. “Come on, grab me.”

  He coughed to cover his laugh. “Do you know what that sounds like to a bloke? Unless you want me to cop a feel, you’d better think of a different way to phrase that.”

  Her cheeks flamed and Jaxton tried not to smile. Instead, he focused on her discombobulation. If she wanted one last go, he was going to make it authentic.

  Rushing from the side, Jaxton managed to get behind Kiarra. He took her throat in his hands, careful not to hurt her but gripping her firmly enough so that she couldn’t pull away easily. She swung her left arm around, straight and firm as he’d taught her, and he was forced to lean back a fraction to avoid a blow to his head. As Kiarra twisted around, she chopped her right hand into the side of his neck, giving her the distraction she needed to run away.