Free Fire Kissed by Erin Kellison Page B

spread a twisted gospel: Please the gods, and they will protect you; anger them, and meet your doom.
    Kaye stepped back as the session with the congressional aide unraveled, her eyes jaded, her fingertips trembling. “I want to go home.”
    The aide had collapsed, weeping at his desk, and Jack knew his thoughts were bent on leaving D.C. The D.C. of the future was a frightening place, a colder, singular power in place of the squabbling one of the present.
    They took the elevators, a modern contrivance Jack didn’t care for, and exited the building onto Constitution Avenue. The air smelled like snow, blown on the breath of the city. Dirty, icy slush was piled along the side of the sleet-blackened road. He’d parked a block down.
    Only a few people were out, puffing air before them, their internal dialogues revealing random pieces of their lives.
    A secretary who had just bought herself lunch.
    A young man who had interviewed for an internship.
    A prophet tolling the end of the world: “Darkness comes!”
    And then there was another man, who strode right by them, his mind a blank, a vacuum. His gaze lingered on Ms. Brand, and though her beauty often drew attention, this notice felt like something more. Excellent.
    They were being watched.
    Jack yanked open Kaye’s door and helped her inside the black leather interior, then walked casually around to his side.
    “Are you ready?” he asked, slamming his own door shut. She’d better be.
    Kaye looked over in a return question. Black, beautiful eyes. Magic so close.
    “We passed a mage on the street,” he answered, eager. “This may be it.”
    Kaye sighed and leaned back in her seat. Alone. Vulnerable.
    To keep it simple, he added, “One step at a time. I’ll be right there every moment. More likely than not, they just want to get a look at you. See if you are willing to be approached.”
    A twist in his gut told him that this wasn’t right, that he ought to get her away and quickly. That they’d taken the wrong course.
    No. He shook off the idea.
    That he was thrusting her, ill-armed, onto the battlefield in between two armies bent on war. Instinct, a thousand years old, told him to take up his sword and protect her instead.
    “Oh, I’m willing,” she told him, low and determined. Like a mage.
    And the twist eased. He was left with disquiet, his constant companion since he’d met her. Everything about Kaye was wrong. Beautiful, and scarred. Unfeeling, and frightened. She was made of too many contradictions to be trusted.
    Go back. Rethink. Not right .
    Too late. They were on the brink of contact.
    Jack took Rock Creek Parkway back to Georgetown. A car followed them, but instead of returning to the luxury town house The Order had leased for Kaye’s use, Jack headed for The Quick Fix, an upscale coffee shop off M Street. They’d been there every afternoon for her midday chemical stimulant, and for good reason. He’d wanted to keep Kaye predictable and accessible. Anyone who was watching them could easily guess where they would head. Jack didn’t deviate now.
    The place was busy, the clientele dressed conservatively, the women of this age styled too much like men, with the exception of Ms. Brand. A few patrons had their laptops open, screens shining bright on their faces.
    “You find a seat. I’ll get you a drink,” Jack said.
    “I’ll take a double-shot mocha latte, skim milk.” Kaye was already unbuttoning her coat.
    He gave a curt nod, though by now he already knew her order. Just like he knew that she took off her shoes under the table. That she played with her jewelry when she was nervous, usually discussing the client of the day. That her little square napkin would be carefully shredded while she drank. That she’d flash him her best smile when he was the most irritated. A little over a week in D.C., and he already knew too much about her.
    Get her out of here. Not too late .
    She selected a free table surrounded by upholstered and padded chairs.