Enticing The Dragon

He had saved her life, and from that, she might assume he wasn’t the Incinerator. Unless the rescue was a huge double bluff, designed to throw her off the scent? As she turned her head back to look at him again, she had the oddest sensation of her world tilting off balance. Was Torque the Incinerator, and was he capable of such cunning? If he knew she was here to investigate him, had he planned to set a fire and save her from it, thereby lulling her into a false sense of security? Her heart wanted to rebel against such an idea, to tell her he wasn’t behind such deviousness, but her training and her experience warned her to be wary.

Hollie had been part of the team hunting the Incinerator for four years, wondering how the daring arsonist had set increasingly elaborate fires and escaped without injury. She didn’t know how Torque had walked through those flames and emerged unscathed. If she hadn’t seen it for herself, she wouldn’t have believed it was possible. All she knew for sure was, she had to find out more about this phenomenon and whether it was linked to their inquiry.

The paramedic removed the oxygen mask. “How does that feel?” The woman had checked her over and found no injuries. The only concern was the effects of the smoke.

“I’m fine.” Hollie knew better than anyone what the health risks were, but she could feel her lungs returning to normal. “I don’t need any further treatment.” She bit her lip. “I just don’t have anywhere to go.”

“You can stay at my place.” Torque’s breath was warm on her cheek.

His words triggered a world of conflict inside Hollie. She was here to investigate him. Staying in his house was certainly one way to keep a closer watch on him. It was also a good way to put herself in danger. She could almost hear McLain’s response. Outraged caution followed by an insistence that she get her ass back into the office immediately would probably be the mild version.

Hollie’s own internal warning system appeared to be broken. In spite of everything, her heart’s initial reaction to his offer was a leap of joy. Common sense refused to prevail, but maybe that was because her choices were seriously limited. It was the middle of the night, she was coated from head to foot in foul-smelling ash, she could barely open her eyes and she sounded like a donkey with asthma. The only clothes she possessed were these once-pink, now-black pajamas. Even if she’d had the strength to get to her feet, she didn’t have her ATM card to draw the cash to get herself home...

With a sound that could have been a laugh, but was closer to a sob, she rested her head back against Torque’s chest. It was a very comforting place to be. “Thank you.”

Chapter 3 (#ub0a70ffd-419d-5b95-b0df-04f9d2bf7ed4)

Torque showed Hollie to one of the luxurious guest bedrooms. He explained that there were toiletries and towels in the bathroom, and brought her a pair of his sweatpants and a T-shirt.

“They’ll both be too big, but until I can get to a store in the morning, it’s the best I can do.”

She plucked at the front of her grimy pajama top with a grimace. “Anything will be better than this.”

“You’re sure you’ll be okay on your own?” He realized how that sounded and held up his hands in a backing-off gesture. “Not that I’m offering to help you shower.”

She attempted a laugh, but it ended on a cough. “I’ll be fine.”

Her bravery and resilience astounded him. She should have died in that fire. Did she know that? Even if she hadn’t figured it out, she must be experiencing a profound sense of shock, yet her courage shone through. When he first saw her, Torque had been drawn to her because of her looks. Seconds later, he had taken the whole never-meant-to-be, fated-mates hit. Now her spirit and strength attracted him just as powerfully as her physical characteristics.

Overcoming a fierce desire to pull her into his arms, he left her alone. But the urge to protect her remained strong. Torque never slept well. The same sorceress who had stolen his liberty and wiped out his clan had once cursed him with her trademark insomnia spell.

Yeah, Teine, the fire sorceress...what a charmer she had turned out to be.

Taking up a position just outside Hollie’s bedroom window, he sat on the grass with his back against the wall and his long legs drawn up so he could rest his forearms on his bent knees. From this angle, he could make sure she was safe and watch the sun rise over the bay. Not that he was in any mood to admire the beauty of his surroundings. His mind was wholly occupied with Hollie and what had just happened.

Being a rock star brought many privileges Torque’s way. This beautiful house with its sweeping grounds and its dramatic views, his island, his fast cars and faster motorbikes...any material thing he wanted was his for the asking. But there was a dark undercurrent to his fame, one at which he had already hinted to Hollie. There were always a few fans whose admiration spilled over into obsession. Enthusiasts who thought they owned him because they knew his face and read every article and interview about him.

Even among a band of big characters, Torque attracted more than his fair share of obsessive fans. Ged, his manager, put it down to Torque’s fiery onstage personality. “They see you as Beast’s torchbearer. Even though Khan is the ultimate showman and Diablo has the dark, brooding looks of a Hollywood leading man, you stand out because the photographers love to catch you surrounded by fire.”

Ged knew who Torque was, of course. The man who had rescued him from the centuries-deep spell cast by Teine was also the man who had given him a new lease on life as a musician. It was a strange life choice, but one that worked. Torque was the only dragon-shifter in the band, but he was among equals. Tiger, jaguar, snow leopard, wolf...his bandmates were all shifters who had been rescued by Ged. Their manager was a businessman by day, a were-bear who saved damaged or endangered shifters by night.

No matter how knowledgeable Ged was, Torque wasn’t sure he bought into the torchbearer theory. It wasn’t just that he got more contact from obsessed fans than his bandmates. The contact he did get was on a crazier level. Ged called it stalking, but Torque wasn’t sure letters and emails fitted that definition. No physical contact was made—he had never even gotten a disturbing phone call—no harm had ever been done to him or his property. And being a shifter in a human world, he found it difficult to know what to do about that. Determined to maintain their anonymity, shifters steered clear of the mortal forces of law and order. Since Torque’s obsessive fans had, so far, limited their activities to strange confessions and occasional threats, he had done his best to ignore them.

Until now. He had a feeling tonight represented a crossed line. Because some of the confessions were very specific. Torque was the person who played a burning guitar. He walked through a wall of flame. He raised a hand and, like the conductor of an orchestra, coordinated a series of perfectly timed explosions along the edge of the stage. And he attracted a small group of people who were unashamed and fanatical about their love of fire. People who looked up to Torque because they sensed something in him that appealed to their fixation. For those very few, it was an infatuation that bordered on worship. They believed he was a fire-god and they offered him their devotion...whether he wanted it or not.

Not. His expression twisted into a grimace of distaste as he tossed a pebble toward the shimmering water.

Being a shifter meant that two parts of him lived in harmony inside one body. His inner dragon didn’t just need fire, it defined him. Sizzling through his bloodstream alongside his mortal DNA. But he was also part human, and that side of him reined in his fiery self. He knew what flames could do. He didn’t worship fire, he respected it. While it excited him, it didn’t arouse him. He could play with its force without pressing the destruct button.

Some of the messages he got suggested his followers—he used the word even though he disliked it—were unable to display the same restraint.

“If anyone gets hurt, I won’t be able to stay quiet.” That had been his ultimatum to Ged when the tributes first started coming. “That’s my deal breaker.”

“You think it isn’t mine?” Ged’s reply had reassured him. “If we find out any of these crazies has actually gone beyond the letter-writing stage, we’ll do something about it.”

As far as they could see, the madness had stayed on paper. It was wild and disturbing, but harmless. Tonight had been far from benign. Tonight, Hollie had almost died. And no matter how hard he tried, Torque couldn’t separate that event from his obsessive fan mail.

His intuition about the fire at the Pleasant Bay Bar scared him. For several reasons, it filled him with more fear than anything he had ever known. First, it meant he was being watched. It was a possibility he had never considered. He wanted to be more intuitive, to be able to say with absolute certainty that he would know if a malignant presence was tracking him. But he didn’t. He was a creature of legend and mysticism, but hunches and premonitions evaded him. His dragon instincts were all sizzling energy and action. He left the finer detail to others.

All he had was an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach that Hollie had been targeted. She was the change, the common denominator. From the moment he first set eyes on her, Torque had been in free fall, as if he had given up control of his emotions. They no longer belonged to him; they were the property of a woman he barely knew.

If he was right, someone else knew what had happened to him in that instant. Someone else was aware of the profound effect Hollie had on him. That person had witnessed their meeting in the Pleasant Bay Bar...and he, or she, clearly didn’t like it. It shook him to consider that an observer could have known the impact Hollie had on him. It had been devastating to Torque himself, but he had fooled himself he had hidden it well. It seemed his acting abilities weren’t as good as he believed.

Even so, no matter how many times he reviewed that scene, Torque couldn’t find anything out of the ordinary about it. Apart from Doug, there had been only a few regulars in the bar. While he didn’t know any of them well, he couldn’t picture any of them as a demented pyromaniac or a jealous stalker.

His thoughts turned to Teine, the sorceress who had fallen in love with him. When Torque didn’t return her feelings—because, let’s face it, she was evil as well as crazy—she had destroyed his clan and imprisoned Torque in an enchanted cave. He would be there now if it wasn’t for Ged. But Teine couldn’t be the person responsible for the fire. She was dead.

Dawn had sneaked up on him and the rising sun was a huge golden disk in the cloudless sky hovering over the silhouette of the trees. Torque knew from centuries of experience that darkness wasn’t the enemy. Nightfall merely provided a cloak for evil deeds. Even so, daylight offered a return to normality. Stretching, he got to his feet.

Within his nighttime reflections, he had been skirting around the central issue. When Hollie awoke, she would want to discuss the fire and Torque would need to make a decision. How much was he prepared to share with her? About his suspicions...but also about his feelings?

* * *

Hollie opened her eyes slowly, leaving her dreaming world behind. The images had been even more vivid than usual. She had clambered onto the dragon’s back, clinging to his muscular neck and pressing her cheek to his scales as he soared over a landscape that was wild, restless and angry. High, towering hills were slashed through with steep valleys and dark, eerie lochs. As they flew, the weather ranged in untamed moods from soaring discontent to blazing sunshine with no thought of moderation between. Although there was no exchange between them, she knew this was his land and she loved it for that reason.

As wakefulness dragged her from her slumber, she knew she was in a strange place. Even so, she felt a curious sense of comfort, as though she was wrapped in a protective cloak through which no harm could penetrate. As memories of the previous night came flooding back, her feeling of well-being dispersed. By the time she was fully awake, she wondered how she could possibly have felt even a trace of security.

Not only did her intuition tell her she had been the intended victim of a targeted arson attack, she needed to call it in. McLain’s reaction was going to make the flash point of that fire look like a failed firework.

Oh, and I have no belongings. No clothes, no money, nothing...

That wasn’t strictly true, of course. When Hollie called McLain, her boss would be able to get her out of Addison within the hour. She could walk away from this undercover job and be back in her own apartment later that day. It would be the safe, sensible thing to do. With every fiber of her being, she did not want to take the safe, sensible option.

Ever since the Incinerator first came to her attention, Hollie had felt a personal connection to him. She always thought of the arsonist as male, but she couldn’t pinpoint why. Until now, her role had never been hands-on. She was a scientist. Her colleagues called her a geek and she accepted the name with an element of professional pride. It had taken a lot of hard work to reach this level of geekery, one where she was called upon to give talks to experienced fire investigators on the science behind the blazes they studied.

Hollie’s inclusion in the Incinerator task force was an indication of the seriousness with which the FBI took the case. She was one of six senior agents assigned to the investigation into possibly the most prolific and dangerous arsonist the agency had ever come across. Her expertise included fire behavior, analytical chemistry and the use of technology to enhance fire scene investigation. She used those skills to enhance and support the team.

The Incinerator’s legacy was the stuff of nightmares. He was a daring exhibitionist who didn’t care about the loss of life as well as the damage to property. The current death toll was twenty-one, but that didn’t include the information Hollie had gleaned from the other countries. Her colleagues had still been processing the details of the new cases when she left the field office to come to Maine. There had been a sense of urgency about starting the undercover operation because Torque would soon set off on tour.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock on the door. She scrambled into a sitting position.

“Come in.” Her voice had benefited from the few hours of rest. Although it was still croaky, it sounded almost normal and at least she could speak without coughing. She wished she could blame smoke inhalation for the way her chest constricted and the breath left her lungs in a sudden rush as the door opened. But no. That was the Torque-effect.

He remained close to the door, studying her face. “I want to say you look better, but you’re way too pale.”

“Shock.” Hollie made a movement to brush the hair back from her forehead and was surprised to find her hand shaking. Her lip trembled. “I’m sorry...”

He was at her side in a single movement. Although Hollie’s current role kept her away from the action, her early training had brought her in contact with the survivors of fire. She knew she was suffering the classic aftereffects. The extreme physical impact of the shock was receding, but the emotional trauma still had her in its grip.