Inferno by Cara Bristol
Chapter Sixteen
Inferno hated to lose his talisman. While he credited clairvoyant Mandy Ellison with finding his genmate, he had a strong hunch the rose quartz had helped to soften Geneva’s heart. She had the stone—he’d noticed it in her bungalow—and most likely, the two crystals combined to exude a powerful, irresistible influence. She hadn’t admitted her feelings yet, but she would.
So, his pendant held great sentimental value.
It had come to him where and when he’d lost it—the church parking lot when he’d delivered Wanda. There’d been a thunk as he’d gotten out of the vehicle. Probably, it had hit his shoe and bounced under the car. He and Geneva planned to have dinner together, but by then, it would be too dark to search, and she had mentioned in passing that the choir would be practicing in the evening. Better to search the parking lot before it filled up.
The sole vehicle in the lot, Wanda, was parked near the door. He was about to pull into the drive when Geneva’s ex marched up the sidewalk. What the herian is he doing here? Fire kindling in his gut, he set the scooter down across the street.
Shaking his head, Trenton sauntered around Wanda. Then, leaning against her fender, he pressed his phone to his ear. With the distance, and the sound-muffling invisibility screen, Inferno couldn’t hear the conversation. Something about the man raised his hackles beyond the fact that Geneva had been married to him. Inferno didn’t trust him.
Trenton shoved his phone into his pocket, and, moments later, Geneva came out.
* * * *
Of course the asshole would drop in while Uncle Mike had been called away to counsel a parishioner in crisis. Better to meet Trenton alone anyway. She had a few choice words for him, and, if she needed to take the Lord’s name in vain, she could.
“Hey, babe.” He grinned.
She scowled and anchored her hands on her hips. “Don’t, babe me.” She glanced around. “Where’s your car?”
“Parked down the street. Couldn’t find a parking spot,” he joked.
“You got the check?”
He winced sheepishly. “About that…I got all the way to the 95 offramp and realized I’d left it in my briefcase at the hotel.”
“I should have guessed.” She folded her arms. “There’s no check, is there?”
Wariness flitted across his face. “What do you mean?”
“You lied about escrow closing.”
He raised his hands in surrender. “You caught me. I’m guilty. I confess I used it as an excuse to see you.”
“I’m going to call the escrow company and reiterate they should mail the check, not give it to you.”
“Why are you being this way?” He stared like she was being unreasonable.
He refused to get the message; she would have to be blunt. “You can’t rekindle ashes. We are divorced. I have moved on. Stop sending me flowers; quit writing me notes. It won’t do you any good. I’m seeing someone, but if I wasn’t, I still wouldn’t take you back!”
His eyebrows arched a fake denial. “I didn’t send you anything.” He cocked his head. “Somebody besides Big Red is sending you roses?”
Lying sack of shit.
“How did you know the flowers were roses?” She bared her teeth in a saccharin smile.
“A guess. They’re your favorite flower.”
“Shows how much you don’t know.” She glowered. “Don’t contact me anymore. If you don’t cease stalking me, I’ll report you to the sheriff’s department and seek a restraining order.”
Anger glinted in his eyes before ersatz bewilderment snapped back into place. How many times had she seen him play the innocent during their marriage? A lot, she realized now. Had she ever seen the real Trenton?
“Our business deal gives me a bona fide reason to contact you. I doubt you could get a restraining order.”
He was right, which was partly why she hadn’t reported him. “It might not be granted, but the process will put you on the justice department’s radar screen. This is a small town. Everybody knows everybody. They’ll all be watching you,” she fibbed and then realized it was true. Argent protected its own. If the people thought she was in danger, they would circle the wagons. Power and a sense of peace thrummed through her. “Go home, Trenton. Don’t come back again.”
“You prefer an alien to me?”
“I’m done.” She dismissed him with a wave and started to march away.
“Wait, don’t go.” Trenton grabbed her arm and swung her around. She fell against his chest.
There was a thunderous clap, and the air suddenly reeked of ozone and an electrical odor. Moments later, a flaming man-shaped fireball roared across the parking lot.
* * * *
Trenton grabbed Geneva, and Inferno combusted. Suppressed anger exploded, and he burst into flames and streaked across the asphalt toward the poacher who dared to touch his genmate.
“What the fuck!” Trenton thrust Geneva aside and scrambled away.
“Inferno! No!” She stepped between him and the worthless human interloper. “Stop, please.”
All burning, churning fire, he desired nothing more than to torch the other man—or at least singe him a little. Geneva belonged to him. He discharged a stream of fire.
“Please, Inferno, don’t.” Geneva held up her hands. “Don’t hurt him.”
Her plea hit him in the center of both enflamed hearts.
“For me. Don’t.”
He called to the flame, condensed it, forced it down, down, down, into his core, until he cooled into a man again. Clothing had burned away, and he stood there naked. He snapped his tail.
“Jesus Christ! What the fuck are you?” Trenton fell back.
Still smoking, Inferno growled.
“Shut up, Trenton, and get out of here,” she ordered.
Her ex shot him an angry glance and then took off, jogging down the block.
“What the hell was that all about?” She rounded on him.
“He grabbed you. He touched you.”
“So, you were going to what, burn him to a crisp?” Her eyes sparked.
“You care about that man?” His hearts clenched.
“No, I don’t care about him. I care about you—and what would happen to you if you torched him! You can’t set people on fire because you’re jealous or you don’t like them.”
“I would not have hurt him. I only intended to scare him.”
“Well, you did that.” Her lips twitched. “He wet his pants. Or maybe he was gonna try to put out the fire.” A giggle erupted from her throat, and then she sobered, jerking her head, as if seeing him for the first time. “Why are you naked?”
“My clothes burned away when I combusted.”
She strode to her car, popped Wanda’s hatch, extracted a blanket, and handed it to him.
He secured it around his middle.
“I had no idea you could transform like that.”
He’d seen other Luciferans under duress transform, but he never had. During the bombardment, he’d managed to keep his cool. But with the fear Geneva might be in danger, he’d combusted.
“It is not something I make a habit of. I’ve never done it before,” he admitted.
“Please don’t do it again. It’s dangerous. Trenton is an asshole, but he’s an insignificant asshole, and I don’t want you getting arrested or going to prison because of him. I think you scared him enough, he won’t return.”
Her ex was an asshole and a coward. Inferno recalled how Trenton thrust Geneva aside to save his own skin.
“Inferno? Promise me?”
He squirmed, not liking her request, but what could he do? “All right.”
“Why are you here anyway? Did you come to see me?”
He shook his head. “I wished to avoid interrupting your work. I got to thinking I might have lost the rose quartz in the parking lot when I delivered Wanda.”
“You had parked over here, as I recall.” She strode to the spaces along the road.
“Yes.” He followed her, and they walked around, scanning the ground.
“It’s not here,” she said. “Someone probably found it and pocketed it. If they’d turned it in, they would have brought it to me. I’m the lost and found department for the church.”
“I assumed it was gone for good, but I figured I ought to check. What did your ex want?”
Her mouth twisted. “He owes me a check. He said he had it. He didn’t. He used it as a ruse because he knew I would refuse to see him otherwise.” She touched his chest, and the heat curled through him. “Don’t worry about him. Trenton is a nonissue. You don’t need to be jealous.”
“I’m not—much.”
She hugged him, wrapping her arms around his waist. She chuckled. “I always knew you were hot stuff.”
An SUV pulled into the parking lot, and, to his disappointment, Geneva disengaged. “That’s my uncle. You should go. Put some clothes on. I assume the hover scooter is nearby?”
“It’s across the street.”
“We’ll get together later? After work?”
“Seven?”
“It’s a date. Meet me at my apartment, and we’ll figure out what to do.” She gave him a little push. “Go. You don’t want to get the third degree from Uncle Mike.”
“Okay.” He pecked her cheek and trotted across the street.
* * * *
“How’s Mrs. Hendricks?” Geneva slipped her arm through her uncle’s and turned him away from the street. Behind her back, she signaled Inferno to make his getaway. The hover scooter briefly appeared while he mounted it then it vanished.
“Fine. Why was your alien friend wrapped in a blanket?” Uncle Mike persisted. He sniffed. “Do I smell an electrical fire?”
“Let’s talk inside.” She beckoned and led him to the church. She couldn’t tell him the whole truth—that Inferno had become a roaring ball of fire, but she’d tell him as much as she could.
“Stop stalling,” her uncle said as soon as the doors closed behind them. “Spill it.”