Pyromancist (Seven Forbidden Arts 1) - Page 49

“The sandwiches are cold.” He threw the strap of the bag over his shoulder. “We can pick up breakfast on the way.”

“Where are we going?” she asked in a strained voice.

“A safer place.”

She left the coffee on the desk. “When will you let me go home?”

Never. It wasn’t the answer she wanted to hear. “You don’t get to ask that question anymore.”

“Am I not allowed questions about my future?”

“Not if you already know the answer.”

Biting her lip, she looked away.

Hating how she pulled up more walls, he said in a lighter tone, “Any other questions?”

“Anything?” She narrowed her pretty, slanted eyes at him.

He almost smiled. He could practically see her scheming. “Shoot.”

“When you left, they said you went to New York.”

“I ended up in New York, yes.”

“Did you go there to join these people you work with?”

He shifted the weight of the bag. “I didn’t go there to find them. They found me.”

“Why is this special task force of yours such a big secret?”

“The use of the arts they possess is forbidden.”

“Why?”

“During the Dark Age, many people practiced these arts for personal gain, to win power or money. Not all of those magicians were concerned about humanity or goodness. It took many centuries to slay them. The battle was long, hard, and bloody. To protect humankind, the church at the time burned these magicians as Satan’s disciples. A few survived, but had to go into hiding. For centuries after that, no one dared to even say the word magic.”

“Surely someone can’t be burned on a stake in today’s world?”

“No.” The answer was grim, but she deserved the truth. “They get eliminated.”

Her dark eyes grew large. “Killed?”

“This is why they keep their skills a secret.”

“You’re not making a secret of yours. Neither is Lann or Maya.”

“Mine is not an art and therefore not forbidden. Lann and Maya don’t advertise what they are. They’ve taken an oath to only use it for the good of mankind. Our team has powerful support from individuals in various governments.”

“Why would they support you if everyone else would be killed for owning this art?”

“Because we execute their orders. We’re trying to do it quietly without causing public pandemonium. It’s no different than any other group fighting crime.”

Her face was thoughtful as she digested the information.

“We’re protecting the good,” he said.

“The good.” She gave him a hard look. “Is kidnapping me good?”

“In the greater scheme of things.”

“In the greater scheme of things, a small sacrifice, right?”

He blew out a breath. “It’s not that simple.”

“I suppose now you’re going to tell me justice isn’t black and white.”

“In fact, justice is that simple. An eye for an eye.”

“What about you, Joss?” she asked, crossing her arms.

“What about me?”

“Are you a puppet or someone who can decide for himself what’s right and wrong?”

He dragged his gaze over her delicate body. It got stuck on how her arms pushed her breasts together. “I’m a man, Cle.”

“A man? What you do isn’t human. Don’t think I haven’t noticed how you enjoy the taste of blood, and don’t lie to me about just getting turned on from the cocktail of my red blood cells. That’s insane.”

Her words hit him in the chest, even if part of it was true. Yes, he enjoyed the taste of blood, and maybe that made him inhuman, but no one else’s blood turned him on. “I told you the truth.”

The speculation in her eyes didn’t lift.

He rested his hands on his hips. “I don’t know why I have this ability. All I can tell you is that I enjoy the taste, but I’ve never found it erotic, not until I tasted yours. Maybe it’s because of the other things I taste in your blood.”

She stood very still. Behind her, the light made a halo around her head. Her voice sounded small when she said, “What things?”

“Your arousal.”

She flushed, but to her credit, she didn’t deny his observation.

“You said you always wanted the truth,” he said by way of apology.

Her lips parted as she searched for words. He watched her as the silence stretched. How would her pretty mouth look after a whole night in his bed? Would it be plump and swollen from his kisses? A flashback from the cemetery invaded his memory, soft lips on his mouth and a tight body around his cock.

“Come on,” he said tersely. “It’s time you meet Cain.”

“I think you should stop telling me the names of the people you work with.”

It pained him to say it, but she needed to understand. He needed her cooperation, fast. “Not knowing isn’t going to change a thing.”

She didn’t answer.

He took her bag and slung it over his other shoulder. “Can you please get the tray?”

She frowned. “I hate that you’re acting so polite.”

“You’d rather I was rude?”

“Yes,” she bit out, picking up the tray. “I’m sorry about the sandwiches. I hate wasting food.”

Tags: Charmaine Pauls Seven Forbidden Arts Fantasy
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