Free Make Me Burn: Fireborne, Book 2 by RG Alexander

not sure I could have come back from it.”
    She pressed her forehead against his jaw, fighting tears she knew he wouldn’t want to see. “You’ve been rude and impossible to deal with lately, but as much as I hate that side of you, it will never change what you did that night. And I do owe you for that. So shut the fuck up and let me tell you about what’s going on at Underbridge.”
    Ram placed one finger under her chin and lifted her face until their gazes locked. “Language, Aziza.” He made a sound of reproach, but his eyes weren’t the hard gems they’d been for so long now. Something had changed. Had she finally gotten through to him?
    “Go shower and I’ll meet you out front,” he said. “We can share a taxi while you tell me about the Jiniyr’s latest killing spree and I tell you whatever I know.”
    Aziza hesitated for only a second before confessing, “Brandon and I… He hid the murders from me. Lied and told me the Jiniyr weren’t back. He said he was trying to protect me but I know that’s not the only reason. Do you feel better now that you can say ‘I told you so’?”
    He frowned at her for a long moment and then brushed his thumb over her lips. “No, actually. I don’t. Go. I’ll see you in a few minutes.”
    The weight that had been slowly crushing her heart since she’d seen him lying bloody on the ground after he lost his powers began to lift. “Sure.” She took a deep breath. “Sounds good.”
    She was relieved, she told herself. He was reaching out again and as his friend she was relieved. That was all.
    Liar.
    Unlocking the door, she walked swiftly down the hallway, unwilling to say another word in case she jinxed it. To get to the stairs that led to the showers, she passed through the large room where she’d practiced the silks.
    “Aziza Jane. Twice in one hour. We must be making up for lost time.”
    West was leaning against the far wall. He knew he was good looking, damn it. She could tell. “I was headed to the locker rooms.”
    West nodded. “I’ll get there someday, if I can ever get the girl off that hoop of hers. Maybe once this song is over. It’s her favorite.”
    It was one of her favorites as well, Adele singing about setting fire to the rain. Aziza turned to look and suddenly everything slowed down. She could hear her pulse throbbing in her ears, a drumbeat that matched the melody. What she saw was straight out of her memories. Straight out of her dreams. Her happy thought that put out her fire and helped her gain control…
    The woman dangling below one of the balloons ahead of them, hanging on to some kind of metallic hoop. A fearless trapeze artist, she twisted her body around the metal ring in a sinuous dance that seemed dangerous and yet…it was the most beautiful thing Aziza had ever seen.
    Freedom. Out of the basket and into the air. Hanging by a thread and carried by the wind. Aziza couldn’t tear her gaze away. She imagined she was that woman. How, if she just lifted her arms and ignored the boisterous males behind her, she could do what the trapeze artist was doing. Be her for just a moment. It would almost be like…
    “Flying.”
    She was riveting. The way she moved on the aerial hoop…as if she had wings and no fear of falling.
    Aziza studied her breathlessly. Her hair was so black it seemed tinged with blue beneath the fluorescent warehouse lights. It tangled a little wildly, like strands of twisted-silk rope flying around her as she executed one spin and then another. Her face brought to mind the word elf or pixie —more otherworldly than youthful, with a delicate chin, sharp cheekbones, lips that were almost overly lush, and exotically tilted, thickly lashed eyes.
    “She cannot be just his roommate,” Aziza muttered under her breath, but West, who’d obviously moved closer, heard her.
    “You’re right,” he replied softly. “Chiye is more than that. I suppose, if what Ram says is true, I’m her Gregory Prophet.”
    Aziza managed to