Flames of Hope Read online

  She typed in a series of passwords, then ran and scanned the message. With each word, her chest gained weight while hollowing out.

  Monique and David, mated Crea friends she regularly worked with in the Bureau, on surveillance in Bozeman, were missing. Their private links were found in a dumpster behind a mall in wealthy suburb. Rich assumed they’d been made, and were kidnapped or killed. Unofficially, Rich believed the bureau hid a traitor in their midst.

  A tight ball of fear crawled into her throat while tears blurred the text. Rich ended by advising her to stay out of Bozeman, stay on Eli clan land, but keep an ear open for any gossip about missing Crea or Eli.

  She slipped the link away and rubbed the back of her neck. Monique and David were strong. Crea, like Eli, were approximately eight times more powerful than a pure earth human. More, if their beast rose to the surface and overtook their bodies, with claws and teeth capable of shredding flesh.

  Who would be capable of kidnapping two Crea? Two trained Crea agents?

  More Crea, Eli?

  Agents with unsavory friends and contacts…or an agenda?

  She sent a brief message-received symbol back to Rich, and erased the text, knowing he’d sent her info off official channels. Monique and David weren’t the first case of missing Crea or Eli she’d heard of lately.

  While this was going on, she’d have to buddy up with fellow Eli to safely leave clan land. She blew out a sigh. Heck, she’d hit the club where her friend Bliss and her band rehearsed last night. And both times she drove there and left alone.

  She’d been part of Katoom clan as a child, her parents breaking free when they were told that in order to continue to be part of it, they had to either help manufacture or sell Mule. She’d come for a visit weeks ago, after hearing about her old friend Bliss mating with Kaid, the leader who’d cleaned up clan, and stayed for the rest and relaxation the agency felt she needed after her last case.

  Her long-term agency partner and good friend Reuben Zookaman always insisted he didn’t need a partner. He’d take off on leads on his own, often forcing Jasmine to risk her life to find and help him. On their last case, when he’d gone absent without leave, he’d been brutally beaten and murdered. Jasmine found him, and was blasted twice before she killed the two men who were beating him.

  Reuben never regained consciousness, and died before the medics arrived.

  Reuben’s death reminded her of suicide. Just as Anthony, her ex-fiancé, had committed suicide by not trying to rehabilitate off Mule. Some suicides were slower than others, but the intent and result were the same. It hurt she hadn’t been enough to make him want to get better, and hadn’t been able to will him to want to live.

  After attending Reuben’s funeral, she vowed never to get close to anybody with a death wish again. That included agency partners.

  She knew Katoom’s Crea and Eli clans were working together to hunt down the Pure training and recruitment centers. As an agent of the FBPI, she’d trained until she possessed skills beyond those of even the most well-trained clan soldiers. Keen to stop the kidnapping, the spread of the Pures genocidal rhetoric, she told Kaid she’d be open to helping.

  Agents in the FBPI assigned to a task force for the same job, had to restrict their activities to conform to laws and guidelines, all forms filed and approved, as required under the Cohesive Worldwide Laws.

  In Katoom, the Crea and Eli clans were hunting for clues to the movement, its leaders and members, through community and cyber gossipy murmurs. She doubted the two Katoom clans were the only ones on the Pure hunt.

  But the Katoom hunt, a combined subspecies effort, was special, and one she wanted to be part of. She itched to be in the field. Enforced rest was for the weak or the guilty. And she, no matter what the stupid, close-minded shrink thought, did not blame herself for Reuben’s death.

  Somehow, through both organizations, she hoped to contribute to keeping the Pure movement contained.

  The world wars that decimated populations of every human species worldwide, and left it in political and financial chaos, had been started by one small faction of zealots.

  Dark hate could spread like a plague.

  And then Kaid asked her to meet and work with a man skilled at digging into minds, almost as skilled as he was at digging into the back pockets of the cyber world. Sifting through the lint in the dark pockets of cyberspace was also one of her specialties. And who’d been her proposed partner? The man she once loved more than life.

  But she’d been engaged to his best friend, and just when she thought she might have a chance with too-pretty Xylvar, he packed his bags, left his Mule-doped-up mother, and disappeared from all their lives. And a week ago she learned what had become of him. What a mess he’d made of himself.

  In the days following their meet and greet, her sleep was haunted by long-forgotten dreams and the years of nightmares that followed his desertion.

  Yeah, she’d made a bit of mess of herself as well.

  Yay for her.

  The log and stone lodge hunkered low to the ground next to the creek, its small deck overhanging the tumble of a small waterfall. With the sky on the precipice of deepest dusk, the glow from the windows beckoned. Smoke drifted out of the river rock chimney and ghosted through the nearby trees.

  What a great spot. One day she’d love to live in such a place. Be surrounded by friends as close as family. She pictured herself with some unknown man, sipping hot drinks, sitting out on a deck, and watching the night steal over trees and rocks to close gently around them.

  As she neared the door, she could hear male voices. One was Kaid’s. She knocked.

  “Jasmine, come in.”

  Inside she undid the button on her jacket to take it off, blinked at the man in the wheelchair, and, in a smooth move, did the button back up. She glanced at Kaid and another tall, blonder-than-blond man with eyes of sky blue rimmed and streaked with rich gold. Katoom’s Crea clan leader, and the ever-drop-dead-gorgeous Zane.

  Zane came forward and took her hand so it disappeared inside his huge, golden-skinned one. “Great to meet you again, Jasmine.”

  As one of Bliss’s friends, she’d met Zane several times. He’d been charming, flirtatious, and, though he was certainly drop-your-panties hot, she soon realized he wasn’t for her. Though the eye candy appeal hit high on a mega scale, no chemistry sparked between them. The heat between them about as hot as mixing water with water.

  “Likewise.” She retrieved her hand, then locked her confounded gaze with the silver-enhanced pale gray one of Xylvar Johanneson.

  Why was he here? And why was she? She already told Kaid she couldn’t work with him.

  The air around the jerk fairly vibrated with an intensity that set her nerves on alert. She had no name for the anger and darkness Xylvar lived in, but she’d felt it before, in suicidal people, or those capable of cold, premeditated murder.

  Felt it once residing deep within herself.

  Such energy wasn’t good to be around.

  By the looks of the slightly curled lip that pulled on the savage scar marring his incredibly handsome face, and his hooded, cold gaze, he appeared no more pleased to see her than she was him.

  Good. She’d hate to think she’d left a friendly, I think you are normal, impression. She had no time for the type of bitter arrogance Xylvar exuded, as if he’d been steeped in a brew of all things damaged for so long the pot corroded away.

  Kaid told her that Xylvar’s accident happened two years ago, yet the anger went beyond that time. Kaid said Xylvar needed lots of understanding and therapy.

  Jasmine doubted it would help.

  The other day, when she walked out of the café, she’d barely suppressed the urge to dance in the street to celebrate his refusal to work with her. Her over-the-top grin startled a few pedestrians. Once she’d driven out of Bozeman she figured she’d never see him again.

  Xylvar was so buried in his own gloom, she was surprised he hadn’t killed himself. Mentally, he must b
e extremely strong to resist such urges when he lived in such virulent despair.

  Xylvar barked out a sudden, derisive snort. “She’s as pleased to see me as I am her.”

  Kaid rolled his shoulders and bent to pat the golden retriever pup at the side of his chair. Ringer, obviously enjoying the fire, opened his eyes, blinked, yawned, then panted at Kaid.

  “Where’s Bliss?” Jasmine had never seen Bliss without Ringer almost grafted to her side.

  “Setting up a new lingerie display. Ringer’s forbidden to enter the front of the shops. He keeps cocking his leg on the mannequins. Dog has no taste in silk and lace. I need to educate him in the finer things of the female world.”

  Jasmine grinned while Ringer contorted himself and proceeded to lick his private parts. “Good luck with that.”

  “Maybe if I wrap the lace in big, meaty bones.”

  “Guessing you’ll have better luck then.” Jasmine gave Ringer a hug and soaked up some of the happy, contented energy he exuded.

  Kaid looked at Jasmine, then Xylvar. “I’m sensing some unease between you two. Do you guys have a history I’m not aware of?”

  Jasmine grunted. Unease wasn’t quite the word she’d have chosen. “No history. He just doesn’t like to play with the other kids in the street, and I do.”

  Xylvar started to tap the arm of the wheelchair, something she found so annoying she wanted to smack his hand. “No problems here. Long as I’m left to work alone.” Tap, tap, tap.

  Kaid squinted at the finger doing the tap dance, but Xylvar appeared totally oblivious.

  “What is this about?” Jasmine asked Kaid and Zane, though she didn’t take her eyes off Xylvar. His look penetrated through her eyes, as if he could see her soul, but she’d thrown up her mental barriers the second she recognized him. One corner of his mouth lifted, as if whatever he saw amused him. She shivered and broke contact. Xylvar did not need to know her secrets, her future, or even her past.

  “We have reason to believe that six un-clanned Crea were kidnapped in Bozeman several days ago. Through our normal channels, and Xylvar’s underground contacts, we have confidence a well-established Pure cell is active somewhere in Bozeman, and we need to find it ASAP and rescue the Crea.”

  Jasmine sucked in a harsh breath. Were Monique and David part of the six who’d been kidnapped? Or were they numbers seven and eight? Should she share what she knew? Heck, it might help her friends.

  “Two might be FBPI agents working surveillance. I just received a message that they’re missing, their private links dumped.”

  Zane nodded. “You know them?”

  “Friends, and agents I work with regularly. They’re mated. The agency believes the Pures are using the Crea to harvest the gold from their blood.”

  Gold flashed over Zane’s bare skin, flamed in his yes. “As we also suspect.”

  Kaid gave her a penetrating look. “Zane and I want you and Xylvar to work together to help us find the cell. I’m sure the gifts and skills you have individually could be real assets to the hunt. Plus, neither of you are known around town. You’ve only just returned to the area, and even though Xylvar’s lived in Bozeman for eighteen months, he keeps his distance from the populace.”

  Meaning Xylvar was reclusive. Lucky populace. She shrugged. She’d already wondered what use she could be to Kaid’s clan. “Easy enough. We hunt and hack into the darker areas of the cyber world. I send you what I find, he does the same.” Mmm, a good idea all around. No need to meet Xylvar again. A win all around. Info shared, no more contact beyond the cyber world. Perfect.

  Tap, tap, tap. “Excellent, I like working with a fellow loner.” Xylvar gave her a look that said he knew she disliked him. “Your agent won’t be so paranoid about my self-destruct button if she’s not in vicinity.”

  Zane ran his hand behind his neck while he considered Xylvar. “You have a self-destruct button?”

  Tap, tap, tap. “Everyone does. Mine just runs closer under my skin than most.”

  Kaid looked at Zane, then her, then back to Xylvar. “Fucked if I do. I plan on another hundred years or so with my mate. I want it all, and all it can bring.”

  “Not everyone’s life is so blessed.” Xylvar injected a sidekick of sneer into his tone.

  Kaid raised his brows. “See you keep that button buried. I don’t want any injuries or deaths on my watch. Jasmine gets damaged, Bliss and the FBPI are going to boot my ass. And if you’re working for me, you are under my protection. Looks bad if you kick it.”

  Xylvar turned his chair toward the fire. A dismissal. Here’s my back, now leave. “You pass on what contacts you have, then let me do my thing.”

  Kaid shook his head, then seemed to realize Xylvar couldn’t see him. “No one works alone. Clan works in units for safety.”

  “Yeah, but see, I’m not clan. And I work alone.”

  “If you want to be paid, that’s not how it’s going to happen. You and Jasmine will work as a unit. A unit where each individual of the team is considered highly important as both a brain and a life. Four of your unit will remain here on clan land as electronic surveillance, communication, and cyber researchers. They will be available for field work as required. You and Jasmine will work as a duo with outside players. To achieve the best results, the two of you are required to pose as a married couple, and move into an apartment in Bozeman.”

  Jasmine’s heart fluttered while her mind danced around a WTF headstone. Xylvar just stared at Kaid like he was looking at a pile of wormy feces. She approved of the look. Showed he had some common sense. The two of them cohabitating as a couple, sharing living space, or even a common environment for more than half an hour, was so improbable she couldn’t even compute the right amount of disgust.

  Kaid gave Xylvar a dark grin. “You’ll both be set up with an alias for which we’ve created identity halos and records on all databases. That way any probes into your identity will trigger an alert here and pan out safer for you guys and our clans.”

  He walked to the fire, threw a large log on, then turned back. Ringer rolled over in approval of the fresh wave of heat even though the evening was hardly cool. “All your electronics will be under constant surveillance for your safety. After what happened to Bliss, tracking devices will be implanted in the crease behind your ears. Other devices will be in your cars, your personal links, cyber tablets, in the loo paper if we need it. You will be safe.”

  Xylvar spun his chair. “Not a fucking chance. No implants. And since she’s FBPI, she can’t have them either. No trackers. No shared living accommodation. No partner.”

  “No way. I’m willing to help, but I won’t work for you if this is the requirement.” She barely stopped herself from stamping her foot. A tantrum wouldn’t set quite the right tone if she was to remain in control of the situation.

  “Think of your agent friends. People who could be dead or suffering unspeakable horrors in the hands of sadists.”

  She ran her hands over her face and wanted to squeeze her head till her eyes popped out.

  “I remember you saying you’d love to vacation in Caribbean. Clan will pay for a two-week holiday to the Caribbean if you do this for us.”

  She gave Kaid a hard look. The bastard knew she longed to go to the Caribbean. But credits for such a trip would take six months’ salary, and that was just the airfare. Holidays, even to the simplest locales, had long exceeded an average person’s paycheck.

  “That’s blackmail.”

  “Coercion. Payment for assistance is normal.” Zane gave her a half-laughing grin. Bastard. He was no better than Kaid.

  Xylvar looked at Jasmine, then glanced away as if almost embarrassed, and started tapping his finger again. “It’s safest if I work alone. She’s your clan member, so keep her safe by keeping her here. She’s pure Eli, for one thing. The Pures will want her.”

  “Jasmine can hide her eyes behind contacts, and one of her tricks is holding down her silver even in times of high emotion.”

  Xylvar tur
ned his hard stare to her. “You can?”

  “Barely a flicker. And because I’m short for an Eli female, I pass easily for a full human. Done it before, once for months.” Though she loathed wearing the contact lenses.

  “It’s still not safe. The Pure movement sniffs even the vaguest whiff we aren’t who we’re meant to be, and we’re dead.”

  “Being a married man will make you seem less of a threat. In fact, we’ll set you up so background checks will make you a complete non-threat. You’ll even dress differently. I know you have skills that go beyond any impairment you think you have. Any work partner of yours will be safer with you than another full blood Eli or Crea. You have assassin skills, knife, blaster, and electronic skills beyond what any of our men are capable of.”

  “I don’t choose to be responsible or someone else’s safety.”

  “A couple has a greater reach into society. You can more easily talk to and befriend other couples, as well as singles.”

  “Best not expect…”

  “You will have to dig up some acting skills. As a couple, you will be friendly, warm—”

  Jasmine burst out laughing, and Kaid gave her a quelling glance. “—and personable, so you might be invited into homes and social groups.”

  “There is no way he is going to look warm and personable. Heck, he’s like the badass badasses run from. Nobody is going to want to play trucks in his room. They’re going to know he’ll shove those trucks up their nose.”

  Kaid stared at Xylvar, but Zane cut in. “He’ll need to act the part, that’s all. Downplay the attitude. Our clans have negotiated to rent a single-level duplex leased under the name of Todd and Storm Law. To start with, you will move in and establish yourselves as a recently married couple. Once we have identified people to assess, you will hang out where they hang out. Clubs, coffee houses, bars, church…”

  “Church? You want me to go to fucking church?” Xylvar snapped out the words so loudly Ringer lurched to his feet and woofed.