Fire Kissed Read Online Free PDF

men came to this room intending to relocate you while you were unconscious. I think perhaps it’s time to move on before it’s too late.”
    “Thanks for the tip,” she answered. “Now leave.”
    Jack returned his gaze to the blazing fire; he knew all too well its burn on angelic skin, yet the power and beauty of the shimmer were undeniable. “Where will you go?”
    “That’s my business.” Kaye shrugged her shoulder and her blouse settled into more seemly coverage. The skirt remained a problem.
    Jack forced his gaze back up to her face. “Will you take Mr. Hobbs’s lucrative job offer?”
    She smirked darkly, a flex of intent rolling through her body as she primed to hurl her fire.
    No, then.
    “Or will you go to Grey House?” The old clans were Houses now. “Surely its master will take you in?”
    Kaye’s eyes went wary, but the fire didn’t waver and her body remained tense, ready to act. Also good. Emotion didn’t control her. He’d need her steady.
    Kaye lifted her chin. “Did he send you?”
    Jack smiled, chuckling. “Ah ... no. Ferrol Grey does not do business with angels.”
    Angels and mages had a long history of battling against each other, and the recent influx of Shadow back into the mortal world promised more.
    Which was why Jack needed Kaye Brand, someone he could pay to be disloyal to her kind. She obviously liked money.
    “So are you interested?” he asked.
    “ No.”
    He waited a beat for her curiosity to kick in. Noted the slight shift of her shoulders and head as she took a shallow breath. The subtle flare of her nostrils. The minute jerk of her irises.
    “What exactly is the job?”
     
     
    Never trust a pretty face, her father had once warned her. A pretty face masks a killer.
    This angel wasn’t pretty; he was perfect, which was something altogether different, Kaye was now learning. He had none of the soul of that other angel, none of the warmth. This angel, Jack Bastian, had fair eyes, blue probably, or hazel, though she couldn’t be sure that far away. His hair was darkest brown, cut brutally short to tame a tight curl. Square face. An almost Roman nose with a full mouth to match. Though attractive, he was no model. No poet. And yet each expression and angle of his face was impossibly beautiful. Therefore, treacherous.
    Angel. Memory had her throat closing. Her eyes ached as angel light filled them. She hadn’t seen another, until now.
    Not her fault. The other angel had said so himself. Not her fault. She’d been just a kid.
    What could this one possibly want with her?
    Bastian, who’d been leaning in her doorway, straightened. He was broad of shoulder, tall, and well muscled. Something dangerous in his bearing. Every bit the assassin. “We would need you to reenter magekind to gather information on how they are using the wraiths.”
    The flames in Kaye’s hands diminished to a weak yellow and orange glow, as if the oxygen in the room had suddenly thinned. If she had any idea why the mage families used wraiths, she wouldn’t have her scars.
    “I thought you might be curious yourself,” Bastian continued. He tilted his head and she could feel the stroke of his gaze on her scars. The stroke was echoed by a flutter deep within her belly. Fear, arousal—both sometimes felt the same.
    “Well, I’m not curious,” she said, resenting the sensation. She’d barely survived the last time. She wouldn’t willingly go back. That wasn’t the kind of job she wanted. “So get out of my room.”
    He didn’t move. “You’re afraid.”
    “Yes, I am.” She had good reason to be. On the first day of every year she tried to manage the fear. She searched for a wraith, and she burned it up. It gave her just enough spine to keep going. She had three months left before she had to force herself to seek out and face another, and she wasn’t about to rush it.
    She drew a deep breath and forcibly regained her composure. It was too early in the morning to spend herself with fire if