Free Firebrand by P. K. Eden

it from him, she noticed his gaze had shifted to the shimmering powder. She couldn’t imagine how it got there but didn’t rule out the possibility it had something to do with the sensation crawling along her skin. She slid her glass onto the desktop to cover some of it. “You look nothing like your father,” she said to reclaim his attention.
    “And you look like your mother.”
    His quick reply surprised her. “How do you know that?”
    “Because you look nothing like your father.”
    “I didn’t know you had met him. He retired more than a year ago.”
    “His ID photo,” Sinclair said quickly.
    A sensation like someone whispering a warning in her ear, raced through Amber. “You checked his personnel file?”
    “It’s important to know the background of one’s employees,” he replied.
    The look in his eyes was Machiavellian and Amber felt her heartbeat rise in response. For a brief moment, the amulet around her neck vibrated slightly, then stilled before a bitter cold centered beneath where it lay on her chest.
    Reacting to a sense of urgency building inside her, she squared her shoulders. “We can discuss family lineage another time,” she said. “Why am I here?”
    Sinclair returned to his seat opposite her. “Before my father left, we discussed the fate of the Ireland venture. It’s vital to the success of the organization. I’d like you to oversee the renovations at Donahyde Castle. I plan to turn it into a hotel.”
    “It’s not my area. I’m in marketing,” she said coolly.
    “I guess that means you’ve been promoted.”
    “That’s very nice of you but I’m not sure I would be of much help to you or the company in Ireland.”
    “Quite the contrary I assure you.” He seemed genuinely amused. “I need you at Donahyde Castle as soon as possible.”
    “I don’t see why.” Amber picked up the glass from the desk and prepared to take a small sip but stalled as she caught a glimpse of Eric’s hands through the crystal and the water. They looked different, bulky with gnarled knuckles and long, cracked fingernails. She gasped and bolted upright in her chair, dropping the glass. She must be hallucinating again.
    “Is something wrong, Ms. Drake?” Sinclair asked as the glass stopped rolling at the leg of his desk.
    “No. Everything’s fine.” She said shaking her head to clear it. “Your offer is enticing but I’m not sure I’m the right person for the job,” Amber replied, sitting once again.
    “What matters is that I think you’re the right person for the job and I had hoped it would have at least piqued your interest,” Sinclair said. He walked around to the front corner of his desk and leaned against it, shifting his body toward her. As he did, his thigh brushed the calf of her crossed leg. A spark crackled between them, the ember falling to the thick carpet. In a fluid motion, he covered it with his shoe. “It’s quite imperative that you take the position,” he continued, holding his left palm a few inches in front of her. “I insist.”
    As he did, Amber felt a dull throbbing on her chest where the amulet lay. From somewhere in the deep recesses of her mind, a voice rose.
Leave. Now.
    “I need a little time to think about your offer,” she said rising and backing to the door.
    He mirrored her steps. “Ordinarily I’d say take all the time you need, but Time…’ he drew the word out and hesitated a moment, “ is critical.”
    The way he’d said it suggested that it had little to do with her renovating a stuffy old castle and it made her feel edgy and unsettled. She extended her hand backward, searching in the air for the doorknob. “I’ll let you know.”
    He stepped closer and put both hands on her arms. A sensation of extreme pleasure and intense pain ripped through her. As he began to tighten his grip, the tips of her fingers found the door knob. She pulled away from him with a violent tug and then slammed the door on his surprised face.
    A few people in the