Fire Fall (Old School Book 4) Page 2

  She grimaced. “Okay. That’s too dramatic. I’m not pretending to be me.”

  “Just pretending to be the old you.”

  She stared down at him. The brim of his hat shadowed his eyes, which left her staring at his mouth. The distant expression in his eyes and his strong jawline usually distracted from the surprising sensuality of his lips. Not this time. She licked her own and looked away. “I can’t go back to a time before I discovered what terror is, but I can learn to accept that experience and still live with hope. Still play.”

  She looked toward where the squirrel had scampered off. It had reappeared in the distance, upright and alert to danger. “Last night at the cabin I heard a coyote. This is a coyote-eat-squirrel world, and yet, squirrels play. Coyotes sing to each other. There is beauty in the wilderness. Every day here the animals are at risk of being eaten, of fire, famine, injury or disease. There’s no veterinarian clinic around the corner to save them. And yet, the animals aren’t afraid. Their lives aren’t limited by fear.”

  She walked to the pine tree and touched its rough bark, avoiding the sticky resin. “The trees can feel the dry threat of fire. One lightning strike and this one would go up like a torch. The trees can’t run to escape their fate. Yet they still live with generosity. They give all kinds of birds and small animals a home. I wanted to come here and absorb that strength, if I can.”

  A boot scuffed the dirt as Seth stretched his legs.

  She had the impression that his eyes, shadowed by the brim of his Western hat, assessed her. She leaned back against the pine tree. “Why does it matter to you why I’m here?” She’d given him more of the truth of how she felt than she’d shared with anyone. Perhaps it was the remote location. Perhaps it was just that she was ready to share. Or perhaps it was because this was Seth listening.

  Three years ago he’d been an excellent listener even when she’d rambled about nothing, trying to coax one of his rare smiles; basking in it when she did. Until one day he simply wasn’t there. Stag had sent a different wizard to be the liaison. She hadn’t liked him anywhere near as much as Seth.

  “I asked because I’d like you to leave the area,” he told her.

  Her head jerked up. “Are you on a mission?”

  “Idle curiosity.” But he pushed the hat back on his head and she saw the intent expression in his hazel eyes, along with the lines of experience and living that creased their corners.

  “Nothing you ever do is idle.” She walked back to him. “I’m not going anywhere, Seth.”

  “I gathered that.” He stood, instantly taller than her once more, but not looming. As powerful as he was, he’d never intimidated her.

  Although she’d seen how others reacted to him: with fear. It seemed other people missed the dry humor that threaded through his conversation and the empathy that underlay his astute reading of people and their motivations. He wasn’t a tame housecat, but he wasn’t a wild lion, either. He was just Seth, and three years of absence collapsed and vanished.

  If she wanted answers as to his presence here, she’d have to push him.

  She reached for her pack. “You go on after whatever it is that brought you to the mountains, and I’ll continue my hike.”

  He helped her adjust her pack on her back. “You mentioned a cabin?”

  Darn. He’d always had the habit of focusing on the one thing a person hadn’t meant to mention. “I did,” she said blandly.

  He shrugged on his own pack, adjusting it as he fell into step with her. They were on a minor trail, one she’d chosen to avoid meeting other hikers, but it was wide enough through the grass to accommodate the two of them walking side by side. “How far are you from it?”

  Her pack included a tent, so she could have been days away from the cabin. Then again, if she had been, she’d have doubtless looked and smelled dirtier.

  Seth smelled clean and looked tidy, even with a few days’ worth of stubble darkening his jaw. How long had he been hiking the mountains?

  She sighed in defeat. “I left the cabin this morning.”

  It was a bit after midday, now.

  “Did you rent the cabin for the week?”

  She waved away a fly that flew stubbornly around her face. “I rented it for all of July.” And she’d arranged to have it stocked with supplies sufficient for her to either stay at the cabin or hike. She was under few illusions about her enjoyment of the great outdoors. After a couple of nights without a bath, she’d crawl over broken glass for a hot shower. The cabin was her safety net.

  Three years ago, she’d completed a survival course. She’d wanted to understand something of what the field agents of the Old School experienced on their more challenging assignments. Not that they were agents, as such.

  Every Old School member volunteered their time and other talents. Part of Vanessa and the other two coordinators’ role was to ensure that no one gave too much. They all had busy lives, and helping out another Old School member had to respect their own needs. Give and take had to be balanced between members and over members’ lifetimes.

  Vanessa had wanted to understand what the more active, combative members endured for the Old School. The survival course she’d chosen had been tailored to appeal to participants who wanted the thrill, but not the brutal challenge, of a survival situation. Nonetheless, she’d learned the basics, and she’d learned that she preferred the luxuries of life, like hot water; hence, the rented cabin.

  Still, the cabin was remote enough that it lacked cellphone coverage and internet access, and that gave her the distance from her daily life that she craved. It was also the nearest base she’d been able to rent at short notice to pursue her secret plan; the one she wasn’t going to confess to Seth. Coming to the mountains to learn to play again was a good idea. But what if there was a way she could guarantee her happiness?

  “Where is the cabin?” he asked.

  She pointed vaguely behind them. “To the north east.”

  He halted.

  “No.” She continued on.

  “If you return to the cabin, I’ll tell you why I’m here.”

  She spun around clumsily, the pack on her back altering her center of gravity. “You’d tell me about a Stag mission?”

  “This one’s off the books. It’s for my own curiosity.”

  Seth ignored Vanessa’s stunned, disbelieving gaze and unfolded a map. She was right. The details of Stag missions were held in high confidence, as were his own interests, but he trusted her. “Where is the cabin?”

  “Um.”

  He watched the faint frown line of concentration etched between her brows as she studied the map. Three years ago he’d walked away from his attraction to her, but evidently his instincts hadn’t forgotten her. He’d been drawn to her here in the mountains.

  Intuition or fate?

  A Buddhist monk had told him once that when you let go, the Universe will place you where you need to be. Too often Seth fought that letting go. But here in the southern Rocky Mountains, searching as he was, he’d let his instincts guide him, and they’d brought him to Vanessa.

  He doubted she had anything to do with his mission. Meeting her was personal.

  Her brown hair was longer now, tied back in a messy ponytail that she’d threaded through the back of her cap. She was leaner, too. Not skinny, but muscle had replaced her soft, pampered look.

  She’d lost more than weight, though. She’d lost her naiveté. Her insistence on believing the best of people used to charm him. Physically, she might have been rescued from her kidnappers. But mentally, emotionally, he feared they’d broken her integral hopefulness.

  She said she was here to regain a sense of playfulness.

  He hoped she could, but once life taught a person its dangers…it took courage to play.

  And she’d chosen a dangerous place for her playground.

  Studying the map, he calculated the quickest route back to her cabin. If they cut directly west till they met the main hiking trail, they could cover two mi
les on its easy going. Then it was another two miles on a minor trail to the cabin.

  The question was, could Vanessa manage the distance? Her boots appeared sensibly worn in, reducing the likelihood of blisters. But her hiking trousers and shirt were crisp with the crispness of new fabric and her pack had barely collected any dirt. She might be gym-fit, but the aerobic requirements of the trail, especially at this altitude, were different than running on a treadmill in an air-conditioned environment.

  “I’ll make it back to the cabin.” She seemed to read his mind as he folded the map. “I took a circuitous route this morning and I ambled. I have enough energy left for the trek, especially since we won’t have to set up camp at the end of the day. I admit, I wasn’t looking forward to a cold dinner. The fire ban ruined my plans.” Humor lightened her voice and a glance at him suggested that the fire ban was the least disruptive intrusion into her day. That prize went to him.

  He gave a soft “huh” of agreement. He could have walked on without greeting her even after his instincts brought him to her. But suspecting what he did, he couldn’t leave Vanessa to wander the area, perhaps to stumble into the middle of what hid in these mountains. Most people wouldn’t understand what they saw, but she had the knowledge and the intelligence to get into trouble.

  He kept his pace slow, letting Vanessa find the speed she was comfortable with.

  A raven cawed from the low branch of a pine tree. The croaking sound had a sleepy tone to it. Bees buzzed among wildflowers, too industrious to think of napping.

  He’d been awake half the night, attempting a subtle scrying spell. He hadn’t expected the spell to work. There was too little magic behind it, which was a conscious decision since he didn’t want to alert anyone to his presence. He’d hoped that the points on the map where the spell faltered would reveal a pattern. The man he sought specialized in barrier magic, and tests of those sort of spells ought to leave an overlay on the land.

  However, if there was a pattern to the scrying spell’s failure, Seth couldn’t see it, and obsessing over the results wouldn’t help. He needed a distraction. “You broke up with Frank Patel.”

  At his comment, Vanessa tripped over nothing, and he caught her arm to steady her.

  “Frank? We were over ages ago. Before I was kidnapped.”

  He resisted the temptation to ask why. “You seemed comfortable together.” Too comfortable for his liking. He’d wanted Vanessa the first time he saw her. She was a complete contrast to the women he usually dated. They’d been professional women, more focused on their careers than on a relationship. He’d believed that distant, casual relationships suited the demands of his work and his own personality.

  Meeting Vanessa had blown that theory apart.

  With her, for the first time, he’d craved a closer connection. One time he’d visited her office—which had been in her condo—when he was still healing from a mission that had gone sideways. The Laotian jungle hid a rare and brutal secret society of shamans. If not for an independent wizard, Marcus Aurelius, unexpectedly appearing and blasting the golem chewing on Seth’s leg, Seth would have died. As it was, he’d been lucky to keep his leg.

  Seeing him on crutches a fortnight later, Vanessa had fussed and tended to him. She’d offered a footstool, coffee, dainty cakes, and soft hesitant touches as she helped him settle into the room’s most comfortable chair—and not in her office, either. She’d brought him into her home; into a living room that was bright with color, the windowsill crowded with potted ferns and orchids.

  He hadn’t wanted to leave.

  But Frank Patel had arrived, walking in casually as a man did when he was confident of his welcome and of his woman. Seth had known a burning jealousy. He’d investigated Vanessa when he’d received his liaison assignment, and knew of her relationship with Frank, but that wasn’t the same as seeing it.

  Frank was the son of one of Vanessa’s father’s business associates. The Patel family was wealthy, although not quite in the same class as Scott Araya’s billions. The point was that Frank and Vanessa’s worlds matched. Frank wouldn’t be off dying in some Laotian jungle when Vanessa needed an escort to the opera.

  That had been the reason for Frank’s visit to her condo. He’d had tickets to Carmen. Vanessa had squealed at the surprise invitation and kissed him.

  The golem-chewed wound on Seth’s leg had throbbed painfully. He shouldn’t have stood so hastily, but he’d needed to leave. He’d done so completely, taking himself out of the picture. There was no value in making himself sick with jealousy. Vanessa wasn’t for a combat wizard who terrified everyone he met.

  But he still remembered the lemon flavor of the cakes she’d served him, and he had the purple orchid flower he’d swiped on his way out as a fading memento of the life he couldn’t have.

  “Um, can we slow down?” Vanessa panted.

  He jolted to a halt and apologized, chagrined to realize that he’d been trying to outrun his thoughts. He drank water, and gasping, Vanessa did the same. He bit off some jerky and offered a strip to her.

  “No, thanks.” She fumbled in a pocket of her pack. “Since we’re returning to the cabin, I’ll eat the chocolate bar I was saving.”

  They’d descended into the valley as they walked, and the air was warmer and more humid. There were more bugs. He finished eating and stepped away from her to reapply bug spray.

  “Ew.” She pulled a face, but presented herself. “Me, too, please.” She put a hand over her eyes as he sprayed a fog around her.

  She coughed and ran forward a couple of steps out of the fog. “I am so having a shower tonight.”

  He smiled.

  “I know, I know.” She rolled her eyes. “That’s not the attitude of a committed hiker.”

  “Oh, I don’t know.” He ate some more jerky, contemplating the wilderness and aware of the woman beside him. “I’d appreciate five minutes in your shower.”

  Her gaze slammed into his.

  Was she thinking of them both naked in the shower?

  “After you, obviously,” he said.

  She coughed and cleared her throat. “Obviously.”

  Chapter 2

  Nights were cool in the mountains. Vanessa and Seth had walked the last half mile to the cabin in twilight. The shadows of evening had lengthened and deepened into that state seldom encountered in cities: the gloaming, where day and night were both allowed their secrets. Anything could hide in the gloaming. Fortunately, nothing nasty jumped out at them. The trail, though a minor one, had been clear—and the bug spray had kept the mosquitos at bay, but she was still keen to wash it off.

  Alone. She’d be showering alone.

  Had she imagined the momentary flirtation that had edged Seth’s question on the trail? Had he been imagining her naked?

  She’d had a stunning vision of him stripped and standing beneath a stream of water. Fortunately, at the time, she’d been so hot from the fast pace he’d set for their hike that he couldn’t have noticed her blushing.

  She unlocked the door of the cabin. It had a simple design. The first floor was a single open room that combined the kitchen and living area with a large fireplace and even larger windows to take in the incredible view of the mountains. A narrow staircase led up to a loft space that served as the bedroom with the bathroom off it. The style was rustic; lots of wood and undyed woven fabrics.

  There were no lights. She’d have to start the generator for there to be electricity. The stove and fridge ran on propane.

  Seth took in the situation with one glance: no lamps and only a single candle in the window. He deposited his pack just inside the door. “Generator out the back?” He held out his hand.

  She dropped the keys into it. “Uh huh. The shed is the blue key.” The manager for the six well-spaced cabins, each private and secluded, had run her through the requirements of remote living. While Seth was outside, she carried her flashlight up to the loft and took the opportunity to use the bathroom—so much more civilized than the facil
ities on the trail. Hiding behind a tree in a patch of thistles was not fun!

  The generator powered up, then settled into a steady hum as she descended the stairs. She was standing at the window, staring out, when Seth walked in.

  He switched on the lights. Instantly, the friendly intimacy of the darkness was banished.

  She saw her own reflection in the glass. Behind it, coming closer, was Seth’s larger form. She stared at him in the window.

  His size and strength suited the mountains. Inside the small, luxury cabin, his presence was overwhelming, compelling.

  The skin on her back prickled with awareness of his proximity. If he reached out, he could touch her.

  Then she recalled the bug spray on her skin and how she’d sweated through the day. She slid away from him, not quite looking at him; trying to evade her thoughts more than his unmoving presence. “I’ll have that shower I’ve been dreaming of. The cabin has an instant hot water system, thank goodness. I won’t be long. Then I’ll start dinner.” She halted halfway up the stairs. “You’ll stay for dinner, won’t you?”

  “I’d like that.”

  “Good. You can have a shower, too, if you like?” she offered, feeling foolish at how she’d suddenly panicked at the thought that he might leave. “Okay.” She got herself upstairs before she said or did anything stupid. She’d fled to the mountains to be alone, but now, she didn’t want to be. She wanted Seth to stay, and not just because he’d promised to tell her what brought him here. For once, her curiosity was second to her tiredness.

  She was exhausted, and Seth made her feel safe.

  What else he made her feel, she wasn’t going to admit.

  Her calf and thigh muscles ached as she climbed the stairs. All of her felt sweaty and sore. She’d overdone the hiking, today. Tomorrow she’d have a lazy day at the cabin.