Free Flame's Dawn by Jillian David

rung, a police vehicle stopped at the end of the alley. The floodlight raked the darkness, casting deep, moving shadows. The jut of a building shadowed his position when the bright light swept past.
    For what seemed like an eternity, they hung, suspended by his one arm above the alley.
    A few minutes later, the lights blinked off, and the engine purred away.
    He didn’t have the luxury of a sigh of relief.
    Swinging a foot up to the lowest rung, he missed, scraping against the rusted metal and then thin air.
    With another ripe curse, he tried again, straining to make contact with the rung. Grunting, he leveraged himself out and up until he stood up on the bottom rung of the ladder.
    Then he flew up the fire escape into the night.
    Leaping from roof to roof, he worked his way back to the block where he lived.
    “Lived.” Bollocks. A sick jest for what he’d been doing these past years. Nay, these past centuries.
    He tugged Jane from his shoulder to settle in his arms. He chafed her cold arms and legs until her eyes opened. Thank God, she was still conscious.
    Lights blinked over the streets up the hill, west of the Tenderloin district. Police still swarmed the block where he’d parked the vehicle. They’d probably found the hearse by now.
    Time, damn it. How had he gone from far too much time to not enough?
    Since he met Jane.
    He leaned over the edge of the roof, trying to judge an escape to the street level. Forty stories up. Too far for him to safely jump with Jane.
    Jane’s strangled cry made him scramble backward.
    She clutched at his neck. “Don’t do that!”
    Right. Because she was mortal. In case he’d forgotten. “My apologies,” he mumbled. Her tremors sent his guilt into overdrive. With all her hallucinations, she probably thought he’d drop her over the edge. He checked his watch.
    Nine p.m.
    Stay here and wait for the later hours of night, with fewer people out on the street?
    Or go now and try to get her into his apartment unnoticed?
    He glanced to the street he’d have to cross.
    Too many lights, too many people. Too many prying eyes from hundreds of windows.
    He wedged himself into the corner of the roof and drew Jane into his embrace, tucking the sheet as tightly around her as possible. They’d stay here until the chances of detection dropped.
    He hoped.

Chapter 9
    How they’d managed to get into the building, Jane had no idea.
    Several sickening drops from that last building should have killed Barnaby and her, but somewhere from the wild ride through the city streets to hanging out on a rooftop, she ended up here.
    Where was “here”?
    The off-white walls and beige furniture blended into a sameness that encouraged the eye to overlook all of it. No pictures, no personal memorabilia. No magazines. Nothing to indicate that this apartment belonged to anyone in particular.
    At a rustling sound, she searched for the source. On the counter lay a file, and Barnaby was thumbing through it with a deepening frown. Although she hadn’t moved, he cocked his head and glanced up at her. He’d changed from his white hospital uniform into a knit shirt and jeans.
    “Hi.” Barnaby’s rich voice took away her anxiety like a match going out. After closing the folder, he flipped on the nearby radio. The funky beat of “Jungle Boogie” seemed way too peppy, but the noise provided a welcome distraction.
    “How long have we been here?”
    “Half hour or so. I wanted to leave, but you needed to rest and warm up first.”
    She shrugged. “We can go if you think it’s best.”
    “We’re okay for now. Police are searching for us, but they’re not looking in this area yet.”
    She grimaced. Thompson and his psychotic behavior.
    Barnaby approached her. “Why did Thompson want you so much, Jane?”
    Could she tell him about the assignment?
    Why not? Her cover was blown.
    In fact, her career in intelligence had gone kaput the minute she’d dropped acid to weasel into the People’s Palace. And freelancing