Darkness on Fire Page 2

  Inside, she made eye contact with Betsy, who cocked her head in the direction of the back corner to signal that Jora’s guest had arrived. Earlier, she’d asked the waitress to reserve the most private booth in the diner for her for several nights. Since it wasn’t the first time she’d met someone there for dinner to discuss business, Betsy hadn’t asked any questions.

  Jora wound her way through the crowded diner, smiling and nodding at the occasional acquaintance as she did. By the time she reached the far end of the room, she had a jumbo-size case of nerves.

  The Paladin was busy studying the menu. She waited impatiently for him to acknowledge her presence, unsure of how he would react once he got a good look at her. Finally, she cleared her throat.

  Without looking up, he said, “Can you give me another couple of minutes? I’m expecting someone.”

  “I know. I’m the someone.”

  Fierce blue eyes glared up at her, widening in shock as he got a better look at her. “Holy shit!” he blurted.

  At least he hadn’t immediately gone on the attack. Considering he killed her kind for a living, she supposed she should be grateful for that. Now that the moment was upon her, she wasn’t sure what to say.

  “Mr. Bane told you to expect me?”

  He nodded, still looking at her as if she’d grown a second head. Was he just going to sit there and stare up at her all night?

  Finally the Paladin blinked a couple of times and shook his head as if to clear it. “I’m sorry, it’s just that you’re Kalith.”

  He stopped and tried again. “I don’t mean that I’m sorry you’re Kalith. I just wasn’t expecting that—although maybe I should have.”

  At least he hadn’t called her an “Other,” the usual epithet his kind used for hers. “I wasn’t sure you’d come if you knew.”

  He looked past her. “Are you here by yourself?”

  Why did he want to know that? She had opted for the diner as a meeting place because she wasn’t eager to be alone with this man. She backed away a couple of steps. “Yes, I am. Is that going to be problem for you?”

  “Not at the moment.” He gestured toward the other side of the booth. “Why don’t you sit down? People are starting to stare. We’ll eat and then you can tell me what’s going on.”

  She slid onto the opposite bench and picked up the menu, not that she needed it. Betsy knew without asking what Jora would order. Being known to everybody in town was one of the benefits of living in a small town, but one of the downsides, as well. By morning, everyone would’ve heard about Jora’s dinner with a strange man.

  She fought the urge to smile. Her friends and neighbors had no idea how really strange this guy was. Her, too, for that matter, so she’d have to keep his secret to protect her own.

  The waitress appeared with her notepad in hand. “What can I get you, mister?”

  The Paladin looked to Jora for advice. “What would you recommend?”

  Her friend laughed. “I wouldn’t depend on her for recommendations ’cause all she ever eats is salad. She’s one of them vegetarians.”

  For the first time there was a glint of humor in those blue eyes. “I should’ve guessed that.”

  Betsy pounced on that remark. “Really? You never said how you know our Jora.”

  “You might say we have some mutual acquaintances.” He looked back down at the menu. “I’ll have the meat loaf. Is that blackberry pie I spotted as good as it looks?”

  That was one recommendation Jora could make. “Better. Betsy, make it two pieces of the pie with ice cream on mine.”

  “Mine, too,” the Paladin added as he handed the menu back to Betsy.

  Jora waited until she was out of hearing before speaking again. “You know others of my kind?”

  “Several.”

  How could that be? Who were they? Paladins hunted down and killed any Kalith who made it across the barrier. This man’s hands had calluses from swinging a sword, marking him as a Paladin warrior. Her father’s weapon hand had looked just like that, and she had a matching set herself.

  Her companion tore open three sugar packets and dumped them into his coffee. “What’s your name?”

  “I was born Jora b’Larth, although the people here know me simply as Jora Larth. And you are?”

  “Penn Sebastian. Are there other Kalith living in this area?”

  Despite his casual tone, his interest was anything but. “There is no good answer to that question.”

  He arched an eyebrow. “I’d settle for the truth.”

  “If I say no, you won’t believe me anyway. If I say yes, you’ll want details. It’s bad enough you and Bane know that I am here. I wouldn’t think of putting anyone else in danger.”

  His eyebrows snapped together as he considered her answer. Finally he jerked his head in a quick nod. “Fair enough. One Paladin and one Kalith. Works for me—at least for now.”

  Betsy chose that moment to deliver their food. Rather than continue the conversation, Jora toyed with her salad while Penn Sebastian dug into his dinner.

  Okay, so maybe they should’ve guessed that the mysterious woman would turn out to be Kalith. From the records Hunter and his woman had unearthed from her family’s old bed-and-breakfast north of Seattle, they knew that people from Kalithia had been buying their way into this world for a while. Jora could be part of that migration.

  How had she gotten here, and how long ago? No harm in asking, although he wouldn’t be surprised if she refused to answer. “So, have you lived here long?”

  She speared another piece of lettuce before answering. “I’ve lived here most of my life. My parents crossed the barrier when I was an infant.”

  “Where are they now?”

  Her pale eyes turned bleak. “Dead. They both died in a car accident a few years ago.”

  Oddly enough, Penn found himself sympathizing. “My folks are gone, too, so it’s just me and my sister now.”

  Jora abruptly shoved her dinner to the side and set her briefcase down in the space she’d cleared. She pulled out a couple of files and shoved them across the table toward him.

  “I brought these for you to look over. They’re copies, so you can take them back to your hotel room to read. My phone number is in the top folder. Call me when you’re done, and we’ll decide where to go from there.”

  “I’ll read them tonight.” The waitress approached. “Looks like our pie is coming.”

  He studied his wary companion between bites of pie when she wasn’t looking. There was no mistaking her Kalith heritage. Her dark hair hung down past her shoulders with two narrow streaks of silver framing her face. They should have made her look old, but instead they accented her smooth pale skin and light gray eyes. She was pretty, especially if you liked your women petite, and she had plenty of curves in all the right spots.

  He usually went for leggy and blond, but maybe that had changed during his long dry spell. He found himself thinking how cuddly Jora looked, the kind of woman who would tuck in nicely next to him in bed between sessions of mind-blowing sex.

  That image made him choke on his pie. Where had that thought come from? Pretty or not, she looked just like all those crazies he’d been fighting his whole adult life. Just the thought of her being Kalith had his right hand aching, his scar burning.

  He stood and picked up the check the waitress had brought with the pie, then grabbed the folders Jora had given him. “I’ll be in touch.”

  Those solemn eyes followed his every move, taking in the uneaten pie and the bill clutched in his hand. “I’ll come with you so Betsy can split the charges.”

  He needed to put some serious space between them. “I’ll take care of it. You can buy next time.”

  He walked away, knowing her eyes followed him each step of the way.

  Three hours later, he’d read through Jora’s reports twice, the first time straight through without stopping. The second time, he’d taken his time, making notes in the margins. Damn, he wished his sister was here. A geol
ogist for the Regents, Lacey had far more technical expertise about what made volcanoes tick—and explode. She’d know better if it was possible to steal energy and send it across to Kalithia.

  He flexed his hands, running through his stretching exercises as he considered his options. At the top of the list was getting some sleep. First thing in the morning he’d call Devlin to see if he’d give Penn permission to bring Lacey and maybe Barak in on the problem. Then he’d contact Jora and go from there.

  Tired beyond belief, he tossed the files onto the nightstand and crawled under the covers. If only he could shut his mind off as easily as he had the lights. For some reason, he kept seeing Jora b’Larth’s pretty face and wishing he could have done something to ease her mind.

  The mission clearly had him all keyed up. Yeah, right. How many missions had him thinking about how soft a Kalith female’s lips looked, or how much he wanted to test the fit of her breast in his hand?

  Lusahn, the only other Kalith woman Penn had ever met other than at the end of a sword, was pretty enough but wasn’t his type. For one thing, she belonged to his good buddy Cullen, and Paladins didn’t poach. But mainly, she was a warrior. Penn had always envisioned someone a little softer in his life—not that he figured there was much chance of that happening; Paladins weren’t the best bet for husband material.

  Enough already. If he kept this up, he wouldn’t get any sleep at all. He couldn’t risk screwing up this mission just because he’d been too long without a woman to share his bed. Well, and for one other reason.

  He threw back the covers and headed for the weapons bag he’d stowed in the closet. Once he had it unzipped, he stared at the contents in disgust. After all this time, he shouldn’t have to do this. To give himself credit, lately there’d been far more nights that he didn’t. Maybe it was all that was riding on this mission; or maybe it was knowing that there were Others out there in the darkness. But the reasons didn’t matter—not if he wanted to get some sleep.

  He pulled out his Glock and his sword and headed back to bed. With the gun tucked under the other pillow and the sword lying within reach on the floor, he closed his eyes and slept.

  Chapter 3

  Too restless to unwind, Jora stood outside on the porch and peered out into the night. She’d considered going for a walk earlier, but there were things lurking in the darkness that were better left undisturbed. She rubbed her hands up and down her arms, trying to soothe away the goose bumps rippling on her skin.

  The night air tasted of evil.

  Who was out there? Using her special senses, she followed their every move as the wanderers disturbed the rightful occupants of the park. Even from this distance, their feet sent small vibrations through the ground as they stomped uncaring through the trees, allowing her to track their movements. In the darkness, humans and Kalith sounded the same. Neither one had any business prowling her woods at night. Tomorrow she’d have more information to report to the Paladin.

  She pulled herself back, too tired to maintain a constant vigil by herself. Was Penn Sebastian having any better luck sleeping than she was? Probably not, if the information in her reports scared him as much as it did her. At least dawn was just a few hours away. Once the sun crested the horizon, she’d be knocking on his door to see what the Paladins had to offer in the way of help.

  She pulled the collar of her robe up close to her neck as her chills worsened, thinking about her current predicament. According to the stories her parents had told her, Kalith considered the Paladins to be bloodthirsty savages. God knows how many of her people had died on the point of a Paladin’s sword over the centuries.

  Yet here she was, having to trust one to protect her secrets and watch her back, while the two of them dealt with a far greater threat to both their worlds. She closed her eyes, doing one last check with her other senses, seeking out those that scurried about in the darkness.

  A small group of deer was crossing the nearby creek, their grazing done for the night. She could feel their weariness as they made their way to the thicket where they’d bed down. An owl swooped down out of the trees on silent wings, just missing the small marmot it’d been tracking. The normal rustlings of the park’s residents were soothing.

  Wait—what was that? Her stomach lurched as she realized that the four-legged and winged creatures had suddenly taken cover, hiding in the deepest shadows. Jora’s pulse raced to the same frightened pace as theirs did, all because the two-legged predators stalking the night were now headed her way. Not one, but two. From this distance she couldn’t tell much about them other than they were both male, both intent on doing violence, and she was their target. Obviously she hadn’t hidden her tracks as well as she’d thought.

  Jora dashed inside the cabin, stripping off her robe to pull on her sweats, then grabbing the backpack she kept ready at all times in case she got called out to the field on short notice. She quickly added her father’s sword, a revolver, and a pair of throwing blades to the pile of things she needed to take.

  She left her bedside lamp on and took one last look around the small cabin she called home during the summer. Now, how to best make her getaway? Although she knew these woods as well as anyone, she had a feeling the darkness would do little to slow her enemies down. She wouldn’t stand much of a chance on foot against two adult males.

  That left her SUV and one other choice—the small dirt bike she sometimes used on back trails. If she took the car, they’d know that she’d escaped as soon as they realized the carport was empty. The bike was light enough to roll it some distance before firing it up. If it bought her even a few minutes’ advantage, she might just survive the night.

  She stuck her laptop into the pack and locked the door on the way out. No use in making entry easy for the bastards. After strapping the pack onto the back of the bike, she pulled it out of the carport and started rolling it down the road toward town. As soon as she sensed the cabin had been breached, she straddled the seat and kick-started the bike.

  The roar of the engine echoing off the trees sounded inordinately loud, and she knew her enemies would use the noise to track her. She made a beeline for town. There was no point in trying to mislead her pursuers; it was the only logical destination.

  Where should she go to ground once she got there? The diner was open all night, but she’d be putting innocent bystanders at risk if the enemy was determined to find her. Betsy might take Jora in for the night, but she was reluctant to bring trouble to her friend’s door. And the local police department wouldn’t know how to battle two killers from another world.

  There was only one possibility that made any sense—Penn Sebastian. How would he react to her showing up on his doorstep claiming that death was on her trail? It all depended on whether he’d read her reports, and if he believed what she’d said in them.

  Only one way to find out. She revved the engine and tore down the narrow highway, hoping to find sanctuary before her enemies found her.

  Penn burrowed under the pile of pillows, wishing whoever was out in the parking lot pounding on a door would just stop. Now—before he picked up his sword and taught the bastard a lesson in manners. Who would be raising such a ruckus at this ungodly hour anyway? It wasn’t as if he was in the barracks back in Seattle with Devlin or Trahern rousting everyone out because the barrier was failing.

  It had been a long time since he’d last been in that position. He missed it. The only thing worse than dying in battle was having to stand by and watch while his friends bled and died without him. On that cheery thought, he rolled over and tried to will himself back to sleep. But as soon as he closed his eyes, the phone started ringing.

  That was enough to vanquish the last hope for a restful night. No one he knew would be calling on the motel phone. Time to teach someone a lesson about careless dialing. He’d show them how wrong this number really was. He flung his hand out to snatch the receiver and snarled, “This better be damned important. If it isn’t, I will hunt you down like a rabid dog.”
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br />   To his surprise, he recognized the caller immediately even though her voice was thick with fear.

  “Penn? It’s Jora. Can you let me in? Please?”

  “Sure thing.”

  He slammed the phone down and rolled off the bed, picking up his gun as he did. He unchained the door and threw it open. The Kalith female stood on the threshold, supporting a dirt bike.

  “I know you’ll think I’m crazy, but I need to bring this inside.”

  Penn stood back out of the way to give her room to maneuver. It had to be one of the stranger requests he’d ever had, but she didn’t seem the kind to panic easily. Once she was inside, he stepped outside briefly to survey the parking lot. There was no one in sight, but danger was out there somewhere. It would take a lot for a Kalith woman to risk being alone with a Paladin she barely knew.

  As he shut and locked the door, Jora leaned the dirt bike against the wall on the far side of the bed. She kept herself busy untying the pack she’d had lashed onto the back of the bike, probably needing the time to collect herself.

  When she lifted her bag onto the bed, there was no missing the all-too-familiar shape of a Kalith sword jutting out of the top. Interesting, but he wasn’t overly concerned about it. Even if she did go on the attack, no blade could outrace his bullets.

  Finally, she asked, “May I sit down?”

  It would have taken a lot harder heart than his to keep a woman standing, especially one who looked so totally spooked. He gestured toward the only chair in the room, figuring she wouldn’t much appreciate him telling her to get comfortable on his bed—not that the thought hadn’t crossed his mind.

  He filled the carafe from the coffeemaker with water, figuring Jora might benefit from a cup of hot tea. All the Kalith he knew preferred it to coffee. “Okay, who’s after you?”

  Her eyes jerked up to meet his. “I don’t know their names, but I know what they are.”

  He filled the two mugs the motel provided and added a teabag and sugar to each. “And that would be?” he prompted as he handed her the tea.