CHAPTER THREE

MISCHALE 

“Who do you think you are? No one gets to order me around or discipline me like I’m a simpleton or a child. Maybe I hit your head too hard, and you can’t remember I already said that.” 

She let him have the full brunt of her fury. He’d spanked her! He was lucky she didn’t break his nose. That would make his smug face sting!

Mischale reached for her inner fire. It had been a raging inferno a few minutes ago. When she ran out of the tomb, she was sure she was going to erupt like a volcano and destroy blocks around her. Now, there were only embers inside her.

Because this man had shown up. This stranger with his expensive clothes and too handsome face. With a single touch, he’d banked her flames. 

No. He’d stolen them. 

Along with her strength. Mischale had always taken her strength for granted, but now her muscles shook with the simple effort of standing.

She was torn between wanting to get away from him, or getting closer. But was she drawn to him, or her magic now in his possession? While she hadn’t wanted to erupt, the absence of something so intrinsic to who she was left her feeling empty.

“Look.” The man held his hands up, like he was showing her he was unarmed. Even though he’d stolen her fire. “We don’t have much time. It’s not safe here. The ghouls will finish with the vampire, or he will finish with them, then someone will be coming after us. Can we start over? My name is Bariq. What’s yours?”

“Now that matters?”

“Please. Just answer me. What is your name?”

She studied him. Was he Djinn or Fae? If he was, giving him her name was risky. It was hard to tell, but those species didn’t feel quite right for him. 

And something inside her, some primal instinct, said to trust him. Despite him stealing her fire. Maybe if she showed she trusted him, he’d let her close enough to get her flames back.

“Mischale.”

“You’re not going to make rescuing you easy, are you, Mischale?”

The sound of her name rolling off his tongue made her stomach do a flip. 

Stupid stomach. 

“Oh,” she muttered. “Kidnapping is the new rescue, is it?”

That earned her a brilliant smile that made her stomach do that stupid flippy thing again. 

“I promise I won’t hurt you. I just want to get you somewhere safe.” 

“How do I know you’re not a murderer?” 

Bariq’ entire body went rigid. “We can go to the hotel and talk there.” 

“Which hotel?”

“The Towers By the Sea. Do you know it?”

She nodded. Who didn’t know that hotel? It was huge. And literally two towers by the sea.

“Just to talk. We don’t have to leave the lobby.”

What choice did she have? First, she wanted her flames back. Second, she had to figure out what he was. If he was a threat to her, or her family, she needed to find out how to deal with him. He must have a weakness.

And she could always turn to stone. Unless… Mischale swallowed hard. Unless he could take that magic from her, too.

“Fine. I’ll go to the hotel with you.” It was only blocks away.

Bariq reached for her. What was it with this guy wanting to put his hands on her? Worse, she didn’t understand why she wanted to allow his heavy-handed treatment.

Especially when he’d called her Allesandra. He’d loved her, that was clear. And it wasn’t hard to guess she was dead. 

But if a man was going to look at Mischale like that while he touched her, he could do her the courtesy of seeing her, and not a ghost.

She held up a hand in a stop gesture. “I’ll walk.”

He narrowed his eyes at her, probably annoyed with what he saw as disobedience. He seemed to have a thing for issuing commands and expecting obedience. But he was no one she had to obey. The expectation that he could impose his will on her, and she’d just blindly accept it, grated on her nerves.

Luckily, they’d already come a fair distance toward the gate. She wasn’t going anywhere in the undignified position of being tossed over his shoulder again.

Mischale focused on putting one foot in front of the other until they stopped by a sleek, dark blue sedan.

He opened the passenger door of his car. She slid into the seat. That was a mistake. The smooth leather felt like the softest bed, and exhaustion made her body heavy.

She shouldn’t trust him. Yet, she did. At least enough to let him drive her to the hotel. Ciaran owned it. He allowed the vigilante group to use rooms there if they needed to. Half the staff was Other World, and wouldn’t allow Bariq to hurt her.

But she wasn’t an idiot. She’d let her friends know where she was. A group text to the vigilantes she worked with would put them on alert. If they didn’t hear from her, they’d search for her. 

Mischale slipped her hand into her back pocket. Her phone was gone. She tried to summon the energy to open the car door and get out, but couldn’t find the impetus to move again, now that she’d stopped. And where would she look?

Someone at the hotel could help her.

Her eyelids felt heavier every time she blinked.

Stay awake!

She didn’t.