Enticing The Dragon. Jane Godman
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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.
For an instant, Torque hesitated as though he had encountered an invisible barrier. His expression was guarded, and even in her distress, Hollie took a moment to wonder what was going through his mind. Then he appeared to shrug aside whatever doubts were assailing him. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he drew her gently into his arms.
As she leaned her cheek against the warm, solid muscle of his chest, Hollie spared a fleeting thought for the rules of undercover work. She guessed this probably broke several of them. Possibly it smashed them all into tiny pieces. As Torque’s arms tightened around her, the trembling that had gripped her began to subside. Rules were fine if things were going according to plan. Any plan of Hollie’s was ash blowing across Pleasant Bay in the early-morning breeze.
After a few minutes, she lifted her head and attempted a smile. The expression in Torque’s eyes was even more disturbing than the aftereffects of the fire. It was probably best to avoid any close