Born of Fire (The League #2)(25)
Author: Sherrilyn Kenyon

“Don’t take too long,” he murmured, trying to shift himself into a more comfortable spot. “I’m definitely going to need a cold shower to stamp out this fire.”

Picking up his glass of water, Syn considered dumping it inside his pants to help cool his lust. Instead, he took a deep drink and went to the front to look through the backpacks and to inspect his boots.

As he searched their gear, he smiled at Digger’s thoroughness. There was nothing he’d left out. When it came to thievery, the old man was the best in the business and knew what any good filch would need to confront any ordeal.

Grateful for that fact, Syn set the packs aside, then pulled on his boots and shirt.

The door opened. Digger paused with an armload of groceries. “Nice to see you up and about.”

“It’s nice to be seen up and about.” Syn grabbed the bags from him and took them to the kitchen.

“I was hoping I’d get back before you got up. Your girlfriend said she didn’t know how to cook, so I was thinking I’d get you something solid for your ribs.”

Syn laughed. “I’m afraid you’re too late. She already poisoned me.”

“Well, when a woman looks that good, she don’t need to cook, now does she?”

Agreeing with him, Syn set the bags down on the kitchen counter. “Did you hear any talk while you were out?”

“Naw.” Digger pulled the groceries out of the bags and put them away. “I put in a few inquiries, but the word so far is silent.”

Syn rubbed his neck. “Yeah, well, there were two guys on the street yesterday who made me, and Vik said he’d heard some things. I figure it’s just a matter of time before they gather up enough courage or alcohol to come after me.”

“Damn pity when a man can’t even have a minute’s peace.” Digger looked up at him with an indescribable stare. “But then I guess you’re used to that.”

Yes, he was. Syn helped him put the food away.

Silence fell between them until Digger cleared his throat. As Syn turned around, he noted the sudden awkwardness. “What is it?”

Digger pulled out a chopping block and knife. He unwrapped a package of cheese. “I know it’s been you who’s been stuffing my account.”

“What account?”

Digger thumped the knife down on the cheese, slicing a thin piece. “Now don’t you treat me like a fool, boy. Ain’t no one else who’d bother. I know it’s been you all these years. And I know why you sent Vik to me. I want to know why.”

Syn leaned back against the counter. He started to lie, but why? The truth was, he loved his uncle. He always had. “I owe you.”

Digger scoffed. “You don’t owe me nothing.”

“That’s not true. You got me out of prison.”

“Yeah, but I helped put you there. If I’d been a man, I’d have taken you and Talia away from your da when your mom left. I should never have allowed the two of you to stay with him.”

“You didn’t know what he was capable of where we were concerned.”

“I should have.”

Syn sighed. “Yeah, well, if ifs and buts were candy and nuts, then we’d never go hungry.”

Applause sounded. Syn looked to the doorway to see Shahara standing there. She wore the same black armored outfit as he, but he had to admit it looked much better on her.

“I’ll have to remember that.”

Digger looked up. “Sheridan here tells me that you tried to poison him.”

She cast an accusing glare at Syn.

Before he could respond, Vik flew into the window and whistled so harshly, it made all three of them flinch.

“Vik!” Syn snapped. “Stop it.”

“Stop my ass. A group of vigilantes just crossed the street. They’re coming for you and your girlfriend so you better run or get splattered.”

Shahara cast a frantic look at Syn whose face was impassive. “What do we do?”

Syn went for the packs and slung one over his shoulder before tossing the other at her.

Digger locked the front door. “I can hold them off for a few minutes.”

Shahara’s heart pounded. Digger wouldn’t last long against young men. They were doomed.

Syn grabbed her hand and started pulling her to the bedroom. “What are you doing?”

“Do you trust me?”

She snorted. “Not even a little.”

“You better learn,” he said before releasing her and throwing open the bedroom window.

As he started climbing out, panic took hold of her over what he would want her to do next. “Oh, no way I’m climbing out there.”

“C’mon, Shahara.” He held himself precariously in the window that was five stories up. “We have no choice.”

She shook her head. “No!” she said emphatically.

His dark gaze narrowed as Vik flew through the window. He swooped down, then returned to hover over Syn’s shoulder.

Vik ruffled before he shouted, “They’re almost here.”

“Shahara!” Syn’s gaze turned deadly. “Move your ass. Now. We have to get out of here.”

But it wasn’t that easy. She couldn’t do what he asked. She couldn’t. “I’m terrified of heights.”

He ducked his head back in. “You’re what?”

She swallowed as old memories surged. The pain and broken arm, most of all the raw fear . . . Had she not landed on a pile of garbage that had cushioned her fall, she’d have been killed. As it was, she’d been seriously injured. “I fell out a second-story window when I was a kid and ever since I get sick from heights, Syn. Really, really sick.”

Just the thought of it . . .

She wanted to run.

He let out a slow breath. “Great, leave it to me to find the one tracer in the universe afraid of a little height.” He clenched his teeth, then looked back at her. “Give me your hand.”

“Why?”

A loud thud sounded against the front door. “Open up, old man. Or we’re blasting through!”

“It’s me or the Rits, Shahara. Who do you choose?”

That was a choice?

But in the end, she knew he was right. She had to suck this up and be a woman. “I choose option three,” she said, giving him her hand.

Syn pulled her into his arms. “Hold tight and don’t look down.”

Shahara did as he said and swallowed her panic. Strong arms wrapped around her in a protective cloak an instant before they shot upward at a dizzying speed.

She looked up at his steely features. “What the . . . ?”

“It’s a spring-loaded cord.” He pushed her up over the lip of the roof.

Trembling, Shahara crawled to safety and did her best not to think about how far above the ground they were. “What did this accomplish?”

“Not much.” Syn pulled himself up over the ledge and pressed the button to rewind his cord into its wrist compartment. He surveyed the surrounding rooftops, then pulled a baton from the pocket on the outside of her backpack. “Grab the one out of mine.”

Frowning, she did as ordered while Vik circled back to them with another report that more were coming.

Syn pressed a button in the center of the twelve-inch metal cylinder and the baton expanded to six and a half feet. Before she could ask what it was for, he pole-vaulted over the lip of their building to the top of another.

Her head went light at the mere thought.

Surely he wouldn’t . . . “C’mon,” he said, looking back at her.

Oh, hell no . . . “You’re crazy!”

“Certifiably insane.” He flashed a charming grin. “Now move before we get caught.”

I’m gonna die . . .

She heard the blasters firing in Digger’s apartment and knew she had no choice except to follow.

Holding her breath, she duplicated Syn’s pole vault even while she feared her limbs or the pole would collapse. It seemed to take forever before she reached his side.

He gave her a chiding stare. “Now that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

She glared at him.

With an irritating laugh, he left her side and skipped over two more roofs like a graceful dancer.

Shahara watched with envy. “You make this look so easy,” she breathed. “If I fall I swear I’m going to kill you.”

Once she caught up to him again, he retracted the poles. “Remember where this is. It’s the best friend a thief ever had.”

“I’m not a thief.”

“Oh yes you are, baby. You stole me from the Rits. And I assure you Merjack considers it a worse crime than grand larceny.”

“I really hate you. And stop calling me baby!”

He pulled her up against his steely chest. His eyes twinkled with merriment and he dipped his face so close to hers that his breath tickled her lips.

“As long as I evoke some strong emotion from you,” he said, rubbing his nose against hers, “I’m happy. Anything beats apathy.”

He released her and looked around as if considering his options. She had to admit, he made a sexy sight as he stood tall and proud while surveying the rooftops that surrounded them. There was a feral grace to his stance that the woman in her couldn’t help but appreciate.

Shouts erupted as Vik swooped down. “They’re on the other roof.”

Her panic swelled. There wasn’t a door or any other means of leaving the roof they were on. “Where do we go from here?”

He leaned over the side and looked down. “How much do you weigh?”

“A hundred and three, why?”

He didn’t answer as he pressed the keys on his wrist computer.

“How are we getting off this roof?”

That damnable grin she was learning to despise returned to his handsome face. “You don’t really want me to answer that question.”

A cold chill crept up her spine. “Why?”

He spread his arms wide. “Come to papa, darling. We’re going to take another ride.”

She shook her head. “If you think I’m scaling down the side of this building . . .”

“We don’t have time to scale it.”

“Then what are we going to do?”

He spread his arms wider and winked at her. A horrible lump grew in her belly. She must have died and been sent to hell.

Shots fired around them.

Vik dipped below the building. “Better hurry, bonebags.”

“C’mon, Shahara.”

Cursing, she moved to stand in front of him. He took out a strap.

“What are you doing?” she asked as he wrapped it around her bu**ocks and secured her to him in a most distracting way.

“Hold tight.”

She was beginning to despise that phrase. Dutifully, she wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Wrap your legs around my waist.”

She glared at him. “I don’t think so.”

“It’s not sexual. Just do it.”

She obeyed, then wished she hadn’t. They were locked in such an intimate embrace that it brought fire to her cheeks. Between her legs, touching the very part of her that begged for him, she could feel the tight muscles that lined his stomach. Her br**sts were pressed firmly to his chest where they took up a dreadful throb of their own.

What was she doing? She never touched a man like this.

And before she could finish that thought, he put his arms around her waist and stepped over the edge of the building. “Oh my God,” she screamed as they plummeted toward the alley far below.

“Stop that shrieking before you pierce my eardrums.” His arms tightened around her. “Just hold on to me and pray.”

Shahara buried her head against his shoulder and locked her limbs tightly around him.

Suddenly, she heard him curse over the rushing wind. “What is it?”

“We’re going to die.”

“What!”

“Hold on.”

“Hold on,” she repeated in stunned disbelief. “What do you mean hold on?” If she held him any tighter, she’d snap him in two.

Then she felt it. They were finally slowing down.

With one last jerk, they stopped falling. Or maybe they were dead . . . Syn’s arms tightened around her and when he spoke, there was a note of humor in his voice. “You can open your eyes now. We’re safe. But you can stay in my arms as long as you like.”

Shahara looked up at him, wanting to kill him. But her body wouldn’t cooperate. Weak with relief, all she could do was hold him close. “I hate you, convict.”

He laughed, causing his stomach muscles to touch her in the most intimate of places.

Shahara just glared at him. “How can you find this funny? You almost killed us.”

“Me? You’re the one who lied about your weight.”

“I don’t think so. When was the last time you stepped on a scale?”

He cocked a brow. “Good point.”

She extracted herself from his arms, then punched him in the shoulder. “You could have told me you had antigrav boots. I thought we were dead.”