A slow-burn fantasy romance fueled by forbidden fire and elemental unrest. Book 2 in the Fire, Stone & Water series—perfect for fans of magic, danger, and reluctant heroines.

One will find rebirth in the flames that take her life.

When the stylists told her they would make her hot, Kira didn’t believe they meant literally. She never dreamed that at the end of the free makeover, a stranger would toss the torch that would burn away her former self. To her horror, she would find more changed than her hair color. For Kira, life would never be the same.

40,000 words
No explicit love scenes.

Humans feared the power of the elements, so they locked them away. In the process they altered the balance of nature. Eight hundred years later, the elementals have awakened. Maddened by centuries of imprisonment, these powerful beings crave vengeance. Three unsuspecting women will have to soothe the savage forces before it’s too late.

One will find rebirth in the flames that take her life.

One Night To Burn

One will meld with the sea that seeks to claim her.

When the Sea Burned

One will find a love that shakes the earth itself.

Scorched Earth

She will make the north wind howl.

Wind Burn

 

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CHAPTER 1

It all started with a walk. She flew into Maui the night before, impulsively booking a flight from Alaska. It was January in Fairbanks, sixty degrees below zero with four hours of daylight…when it wasn’t overcast. With clouds covering the sun and the thick curtain of ice fog caused by car and heating oil exhaust, they saw precious little of the tiny yellow disk. Driven from house to car to building by the extreme cold, she was going crazy with cabin fever.

“You’re driving me crazy,” her boss growled, staring at Kira’s tapping pencil. Their jobs as corrections officers at the jail were stressful enough without adding nervous habits. “Get out, go to Hawaii already. The sooner you get back, the sooner I can think about vacation.”

Kira had looked up from her tropical beach screensaver and around at the plain white walls…and logged on to book a flight to Maui.

It had been an inspired choice. Simply getting off the plane in Kahului and stepping into warm, humid air had been a luxury. She gratefully shed her boots and stowed her parka in her luggage. She didn’t even care that traffic was horrendous on the way to Kaanapali. She had AC and GPS and an amazing sunset gilding the ocean. She loved watching the high arc of its descent, instead of the anemic crawl across the horizon the arctic sun performed in January.

Jet lag mugged her by the time she reached her hotel, the King Something-Unpronounceable. She was downing water like a drunk on a binge as she tried to acclimate to the drastic weather change, so she was delighted to discover a vat of iced drinking water in the lobby. Pineapple slices floated in it, rind and all, an exotic drink for someone raised in the frozen north. It was delicious, and she had several glasses while the clerk finalized the paperwork.

Afterward a valet ferried her and her lone piece of luggage in his golf cart to her cottage on the beach. The cottage had a cracked sink and a rigid pillow that was not kind to her travel stiffened neck, but it was clean and quiet. She brushed her teeth and called it a night, ready for adventure in the morning.

The ocean didn’t disappoint. She’d never been to the beach, and Maui surpassed her expectations. The dry sand was soft and sugary, but became darker and firmer as she passed the water line. The ocean was delightfully warm and rushed up with a hiss, only to lap playfully at her toes. It foamed like warm beer, carrying grains of sand in rolling waves. As the water receded it washed away the sand beneath her feet, making it tricky to stand. Walking sideways was hard, for the water wanted to pull her down, too.

She smiled, feeling like a kid. Hawaii really was fabulous.

Not used to the strong sun, she quickly developed a headache. Fortunately it wasn’t coupled with a burn, since she’d slathered her body with industrial strength sunscreen to protect her pale skin. To soothe the headache, she popped a couple of ibuprofen and walked to the Sweet Shop for some decadent coconut ice cream.

Feeling better, she hopped in her jeep and drove the mile and a half to the tiny tourist town. The whole place was only a couple of blocks long, and lined with restaurants and shops selling chocolate covered macadamia nuts, Hawaiian shirts and sunglasses. Sadly, she had no use for a sundress back home, so she window shopped and enjoyed the outdoors. It was nice to be outside without being mummified in layers of wool and down.

That’s when the makeover truck found her.

Kira was sucking on pineapple slush and admiring a display of Tahitian pearls when a tall Polynesian woman approached her with a smile. Her white flowered, red sundress was neatly pressed, the dye still bright. “Aloha!” the woman said with a smile, placing her hand on Kira’s arm in a friendly way. Her candlenut bracelet clacked. “Are you a visitor here?”

Kira smiled back. “Yes. I flew in from Alaska last night.” That caused the usual stir, and the woman peppered her with questions. After Kira had warmed to her, she finally said, “Oh, I forgot to introduce myself! My name is Destiny. My friends and I are student beauticians. We’re traveling around in our truck, The Beauty Shop, giving free makeovers today. Would you mind if we stole you for a little while? I promise it will be the experience of a lifetime.”

Kira looked curiously at the oversized van parked at the curb, a mobile beauty shop visible through the open back doors. Sure enough, it was painted with an enticing mural of a “before and after” picture of a rough looking woman. The after picture seemed miraculous. She needed help like that. “Hm. You said it’s free?”

“Absolutely,” Destiny said, leading her to the van. “I’m so excited! You’re our first client today. I can’t wait to get started.”

Kira climbed in the back of the truck and settled into a salon chair. The interior was a miniature beauty parlor, complete with shampoo bowls and a product lineup on the back wall. The AC felt pleasant on her heated skin. “This is pretty cool,” she said admiringly.

“Just wait. We’re going to blow your mind,” Destiny promised. “This is Providence,” she said, waving her hand at the statuesque black woman who seemed to be sizing her up. She wore a knee length white skirt with tiny pleats and golden sandals that laced up her calves. Her top was an artfully tied white scarf that left one shoulder bare. Heavy linked gold disks circled her neck and wrists. A gold cord looped around her hair, holding it back from her strong face. “She’s helping today, and Fortune is driving.” Fortune leaned around the back of the driver’s seat and waved. She might've been Spanish, with velvety cocoa skin and long, kinky reddish hair.

What an odd bunch. “Are you sisters? I mean, your names….”

Providence smiled. “We get that a lot. Now then, let me see your hair. Hm, yes.” She took a long brown lock and examined the color and texture. “Well, you have no sun damage. It feels healthy.”

Kira grinned. Sun damage wasn’t a hazard in Alaska. “Thanks.”

Providence rummaged in a box and removed a crystal vial. Although it looked like it contained perfume, the liquid was thick and carnelian. The crystal winked, too brightly for the available light. She smiled at Kira’s curious inspection. “Pretty, isn’t it?”

Destiny saw it and pouted. “But I wanted to do her hair and nails first. Why shouldn’t we have some fun?”

“Work before play,” Providence said firmly. “We’re on a schedule.” Destiny sighed, but didn’t interfere as Providence unstopped the bottle and offered it to Kira. “What do you think of this perfume?”

Kira sniffed cautiously, hoping it wouldn’t overwhelm her sensitive nose. A heavy, almost earthy, floral scent seized her senses. Dizziness assailed her as the vapor curled into her lungs. Lethargy set in too quickly for alarm. Unable to gather her thoughts, her hand dropped limply to her lap.

Providence plucked the vial from Kira’s lax fingers and stopped it. She glanced casually toward the front of the truck. “Fortune, you can drive now.”

Kira felt the truck start, but it seemed unimportant. She didn't know where they were going, but it was impossible to worry. Her blood flowed like honey in her veins, warm and rich. She should be concerned, but that was as far as the thought went. She was a bystander now, an observer in her own body.

They pierced her nose. Kira didn’t protest as they inserted the gold ring with a tiny winking ruby into her left nostril. That would go over well with her boss, she thought distantly. She thought the heavy cuff they slid over her left wrist was gold, but it shrank to match her narrow wrist, glittering with what looked like diamonds and rubies.

“Your wedding jewelry,” Destiny said with a smile. Her teeth were blindingly white. “He made it himself.”

Kira watched her with dull eyes as fear threaded through her mind. They were giving her to a man? Was this some kind of white slavery ring? What had she done? She knew better than to climb into strange vehicles.

She was an absurd choice for a harem slave. Her long hair was brown and fine, mostly pulled into a French braid. It was hardly the kind of thing that caught men’s eyes. Her rounded face had a Victorian prettiness a hundred years out of fashion. She was average: average height, average figure. And still, it was happening.

“How long do you think it will take him to find her?”

Providence pursed her lips in thought. Her purple-red lipstick glinted disconcertingly, leaving spots before Kira’s eyes. It made her nauseous, and she had to look aside.

Unconcerned, Providence mused, “He’s stubborn. Not while the fire burns, I think. If nothing else, she’ll be drawn to him.”

Destiny sent Kira a sympathetic look. “Poor thing. She’ll have a time of it, charming him. He’s very angry.”

“They were locked away a long time.” Providence seemed sorry for that.

“They deserved it. Killing and destroying like that…they needed to learn self-control.” Destiny retorted.

Kira’s dilated eyes widened. Killing? They were talking about multiple men now. She conjured a gang of ex-cons, all focused on her. If she could have spoken, she would have begged.

“We’re scaring her,” Destiny said regretfully. “Don’t worry, it’s not as bad as it sounds. Believe me, he’ll be grateful we found you…eventually.”

Kira managed a tiny shake of her head, but they ignored her distress. The conversation moved to other topics, though. It seemed they didn’t want to upset her further.

As if that were possible! Only the drug kept her in her seat. To escape, she’d happily leap into traffic.

Whatever they planned, it wouldn’t be anything good. She had to get out!

The drug kept her as still as iron chains as the miles went by. The dose was just beginning to wear off when the truck pulled onto a gravel road and stopped.

“We’re here!” Destiny said cheerfully and jumped out. “I’ll start the bonfire. You bring her out.”

Providence shook her head. Her smile was ironic. “So impatient.” She pulled Kira to her feet with surprising strength. “Come. Let’s get you ready for your man.”

“No.” Kira’s mumbled protest was ignored. Providence sat her on the beach, her back against a rock. She was in a small depression surrounded by rocks and sand dunes. In the middle was a rock with an iron ring bolted to it; a chain and manacles coiled neatly on top.

Destiny piled wood around it.

Kira watched, horrified. It was a pyre. Were they planning to burn her after the men finished with her?

But no men arrived. The pile grew until there was only a thin path to the rock. Providence came then, helping her stand with surprising gentleness. “It’ll be over soon,” she said softly, guiding Kira through the rocks.

Breathing hard in a useless effort to get her body to resist, Kira slumped on a log as Providence closed one of the manacles on her wrist. Warm from the sun, it clanked over her bracelet and filled Kira with a paralyzing horror. Fresh cut wood, salt brine and brandy filled her nostrils. Destiny poured a vial of scented oil over Kira’s hair. It ran down her scalp, hot with the essence of cayenne and cinnamon. Her skin burned. A drop fell in her eyes, and she cried from fear and pain. She wanted to scream, to fight, but her body wouldn’t obey. It was all she could do to wipe streaming eyes.

They scattered a basket of cinnamon sticks, fistfuls of cloves and Fortune’s candlenut bracelet on the pyre. At last they stood back, their gazes solemn. “Goodbye, Kira,” Fortune said softly. “Wake to good fortune.”

“Providence be with you,” Providence intoned.

“Destiny awaits,” Destiny said, raising high the sparkling red vial that seized Kira’s will. She poured the contents in a scarlet trail of tears. Where it fell, it blazed, causing the brandy soaked pyre to flame.

And then Kira was burning. Large flakes of red ash drifted into the air, like scarlet poppy petals on a summer breeze. The flames rose green and blue, tinted by the salt-laced driftwood. Spices rose like incense, turning her death into a celebration.

Her hair went with a rush. Her flesh smelled sweet as it burned, like pork wrapped in ti leaves and buried in coals. It burned, it was agony…and then, it was nothing. Everything that had been Kira was gone.

She was awake. Unfocused, remote, but aware. She felt the sun’s sizzle as she hovered above the dying fire. Little more than coals, it flickered fitfully, stirring in the slight breeze. She smelled rain.

And then she was a coal, an ember nestled in the slumbering fire. She reached up and felt her hand break into cool air. Moaning, she clawed to the surface and crawled weakly across a bed of coals that did not burn. Her hand grasped the loose sand at the edge of the pit, dug in. Gasping, she wormed out of the ashes and collapsed on the sand. Naked, shivering, she fainted.

She did not wake again until evening. Muzzy, disoriented, she opened her eyes and discovered she was lying on the carpet of her rented cottage. Stumbling in the dark, she made it to the bathroom and swatted the light plate. She gripped the counter, her eyes on the cracked sink as she adjusted to the light. A strand of dark red hair slid over her shoulder and pooled in the basin. She stared, confused. Her hair was brown, shoulder length. This wasn’t her hair.

She lifted her eyes to the mirror and sucked in a sharp breath. Her skin was still pale, but smooth and clear as milk. Her formerly pale, watery blue eyes now shone like dark sapphires. She had a gold and ruby ring through her nose.

She didn’t know that girl in the mirror.

There was sand on her skin. Dazed, Kira walked to the tiled shower and turned on the heat, but even the scalding water felt tepid. Shivering, she scrubbed quickly, but no matter how much coconut shampoo she lathered on, her hair still smelled like cinnamon. Muttering, she snapped off the water and stepped out.

Wrapped in a towel, she returned to the mirror. She never had a nose ring, didn’t want one, but she couldn’t get it loose. All her efforts produced were a sore nose. Growling, she tried to slide the cuff off her wrist, but it wouldn’t budge. It was as if it were fused to her skin.

The red hair was something else. It hung in a thick, sleek wave to her waist and dried in less than two minutes. She vowed to cut it the first chance she got.

She was so tired. She pulled on pajamas, then sat on her bed and stared at the phone. If she called the police, what would she tell them? Nothing they’d believe.

She lay down on top of the covers, too warm. Had those women brought her here? She couldn’t remember, but doubted she’d returned on her own. Why? Why would they bother?

Why wasn’t she dead? That bothered her the most. She remembered burning, but she wasn’t dead. She was changed. But changed into what?

She felt feverish, and hungry as a newly hatched chick. She went to the mini-fridge, but leftover sushi and fruit sounded nasty. She had water, but oddly, it didn’t feel wet. It felt…wrong. As if water didn’t have the ability to quench her new thirst.

Aching, unsatisfied, Kira returned to the bed and fell into a fitful, burning slumber.

He knew when they lit the fire. Though he wasn’t on the same island, he could feel her burning.

It was too late to stop them, even if Raze had cared. The Fates could burn an island full of girls, and he wouldn’t care. If he’d wanted burnt sacrifices, he could have done it himself.

Still, the volcano stirred with quick pleasure at his anger. Raze was fire, the only law it knew. Sometimes, if he were angry, he would release the leash.

Kilauea didn’t like its leash.

But Raze told himself he wasn’t angry. He was disinterested, carefully so. The Fates had conspired with mortals to lock his kind away for 800 years. Now that he was free, he wouldn’t waste time in idle curiosity. Vengeance consumed him. Everywhere he looked, humans thrived. He wanted to burn them, devour them with fire and lava, bury them in ash. The only thing that gave him pause were the Fates, and the knowledge that they’d once succeeded in imprisoning him.

His smile was deep and bitter. As if he would accept a human for a wife, no matter how they changed her. Mortals could not be trusted.

He turned away from the thoughts, and the knowledge that somewhere a woman burned…burned for him.

She was starving. Kira forced herself to eat the sushi, but it did nothing to cure the gnawing hunger. It sat heavy in her belly while the craving grew.

Restless, she went for an evening walk, keeping her head down to hide the embarrassing nose ring. There was no backing, no catch. It was as if the ring had been soldered in place. She needed wire cutters.

She needed food. Ice cream sounded horrific. Steak, well done and just this side of burnt, might do. The thought of charcoal sent her feet in the direction of the Italian restaurant, and that was where she made her fortuitous discovery.

She glanced at the crossed tiki torches by the entrance, and suddenly knew what she was craving. She willed the fire to her…and the flames went out. With one breath, she swallowed their energy, the equivalent of a mouthful.

Stunned, she stared at the wisps of smoke curling off the blackened wicks. With a guilty look around, she quickened her step and passed the restaurant. Fire. She’d eaten fire!

She felt like a thief, or some kind of vampire. Worse, now that she knew what she hungered for, she wondered where to get more. She couldn’t build a bonfire; she had no wood and she was sure she’d get in trouble. There were a few tiki torches scattered around, but judging by what she’d consumed, they weren’t enough to satisfy her. She needed a substantial flame.

She paced and thought, consuming more torches. It was like taking sips when she craved a whole bucket. Desperate, she bought candles from the gift shop and lit them in her room, but even lighting and consuming them repeatedly didn’t satisfy her. She needed more fire!

She scanned her room hoping for inspiration and spied a brochure labeled, “Hawaiian Volcanoes.” Of course! A volcano had plenty of fire. Once fed, her mind could focus on the next step: how to undo whatever they did to her. She couldn’t go on like this. She had to track those pyro bitches down and make them undo it. There had to be a way to fix her.

The volcano was problematic. According to the brochure, it was on the Big Island, and she was on Maui. She’d have to buy a ticket to get there. She debated, eyeing her scattered stuff. Well, it wasn’t as if she had a higher priority, and Maui was suddenly useless. She could transfer her tickets and go to the Big Island…or she could fly home to Alaska.

She pictured that, a whole day of travel with nothing to eat and precious little rest, because she couldn’t sleep in budget airline seats. She’d fly in, drive home and build a big bonfire to feed her. Then she’d go to work and try to explain to her boss why she couldn’t remove her nose ring. She winced.

If she went to the Big Island, she’d lose time looking for those women. She needed to find them, and time was short. She couldn’t stay here forever.

She bit her lip, frustrated. It was almost as if she were drawn to the Big Island, the volcano. It had assumed an importance logic said it shouldn’t have. She struggled, but it was a lost cause. She picked up the phone and called the airlines.

The road from Hilo to the Kilauea Visitor Center was long and winding. While nice enough, Kira thought Maui was prettier. Black lava rock had been dozed away to build foundations for new homes, leaving black charred patches in the rampant vegetation. For sale signs littered the landscape, but she wouldn’t pay $60,000 an acre to live in such a smoggy environment.

The smog came from the volcano, of course. As she climbed in elevation, the radio announcer warned to watch out for the toxic effects of the sulfur dioxide gas present at the summit. She was urged to keep her windows up and watch for trouble breathing.

If she’d been elderly or asthmatic, she’d have been concerned, but the sulfur didn’t bother her at all. It made her hungry, as if she was wandering through the world’s biggest barbecue. She felt ravenous. Strangely enough, she looked it, too. Her shorts were loose, and she’d looked gaunt in the restroom mirror, like some horrible anorexic Twiggy. She tried to force down a hamburger before she left Hilo, but it tasted awful and settled in her stomach like concrete. She couldn’t finish more than a couple of bites.

She’d kill for a good bonfire!

She eyed the roadside, wondering if anyone would notice if she started a fire, but she knew better. The island was too populated, and someone would notice.

She thought about lighting candles again, but it wasn’t worth the effort. She needed some serious energy, and candles weren’t going to cut it.

She counted down the miles to the visitor center. At last, she reached the entrance gate and eagerly handed over her money. God willing, she’d see lava any minute now.

If only. The visitor center was a disappointment. Oh, they had a grand view of the crater; a vast, smoking pit, but no lava. She stared at the smoke through wide glass windows, desperate. Even if she could hike down, the terrain was rough. She’d be lucky if she didn’t fall in a crack and die.

Desperate to relieve the fog of hunger, she studied the bulletin board. Her eyes lit on a scene of flowing lava and scanned the words quickly. Ah! Chain of Craters Road. The road was closed at the end, thanks to lava flowing into the ocean. That’s where she needed to go.

It was seriously smoggy as she descended the steep, twisting road. Nausea assaulted her, made worse by her empty stomach, and she was forced to get out at the scenic points and walk to clear her head.

Uncomfortable as she was, she still found the old lava flows fascinating. Broken pools where bubbles of lava burst were scattered around the landscape. An old flow formed a sunken, dried pond. The ground resembled rough asphalt surrounding dry riverbeds with smooth bottoms. Dead trees and brown scrub foliage dotted the viewing area.

The flowing lava constructed whimsical architecture, small towers and bridges of stone, as if a fire child played at building a city. One structure formed a square arch with a hole inside. Tubes went into the rock, as if someone poured concrete and removed pipes once it cooled, and she wondered if the tubes were the remains of trees. She found the place uniquely beautiful, and imagined it flowing with lava. She couldn’t wait to find the real thing.

As she drove, the vegetation changed. Trees gave way to orange-yellow grass and green scrub, like tundra. A spider web of sickly hanging moss draped the withered, leafless bushes. Below 1000 feet, a devastated black plain emerged, with patches of yellow scrub and morning glories here and there. As she descended, she saw a huge cloud of steam where lava flowed into the ocean. Her pulse increased in anticipation. She was nearly there.

The smog thickened as she neared sea level. She passed a couple in a silver rental car, the woman sucking heavily on an inhaler. The man looked worried as he glanced at her in the passenger seat, speaking words Kira couldn’t hear. Otherwise, the road was empty.

In minutes she reached the yellow and black striped sawhorse that marked the end of the road. A few cars were there, and she noticed a group walking back. She parked and locked her car, nodding as she passed the others. She focused on plume of steam and estimated it was a half-mile walk. She was starving!

In some places the ground was gritty and rippled like a crackled brownie, shiny in others. Black shards littered the ground like broken pottery. Signs cautioned the stupid to watch their step. She sneered and walked on, then tripped over a small rim of earth and picked herself up, abashed.

She was more cautious as she navigated the ropes and snakes of old flow that alternated with lighter rivers of gray. By the time she finally saw the red glow of fire she was deeply exhausted, as if she’d hiked miles. She checked, but no one observed her as she edged closer. Food, she thought with dizzy relief. Miles of it.

It was nearing sunset as she reached the flow. Pink spilled into the western sky as the sun crashed into the ocean. Ravenous, she surged toward the lava to draw in the delicious heat.

He was suddenly there, a brighter source of heat and light, a silent shadow in the night. A sudden flare of fire threw his form into black relief. She couldn’t see the stranger’s face, but shivered in primal fear. Whoever he was, the man radiated danger.

She opened her mouth…and her world dissolved in a shower of sparks. Dizzy, frightened, she shot into the air at a terrific clip, pulled by an unseen force. The ground rushed by as she skimmed the broken rocks, so close she should have been losing skin. But she had no body. Impossibly, she was sparks, and hot rushing wind; she was convinced she was about to die.

Her sparks rocketed up a blackened hill and into an old lava tube. On a floor of soft white sand, her sparks finally coalesced. She regained her body and it was no blessing. She lay on her belly, too nauseous and dizzy to do anything else. She was afraid to sit up, lest she be sick. The sand rocked under her, and she was briefly afraid the floor would tilt.

Feet appeared in front of her and there was a brief silence. “That must have been your first time. You’ve never traveled as spark, I’d wager.” The voice was deep, amused. It also provoked her to her knees, though the effort nearly flattened her. She sat with care, eyes closed as she took deep breaths. “Who are you?” Her brisk demand came out as a whisper.

“I am Fire,” he said as he sat in a tall black chair. Ornate, nearly a throne, it seemed formed of black glass. He studied her coldly. “And you are the Trouble the Fates sent.”

“I’m in trouble,” she said with more strength. He had to understand. She raised her head to meet his gaze and gasped. “What are you?”

The one called Fire flickered with metallic, iridescent light. His skin glowed, flowing from pumpkin to burnt-orange like the coals in the heart of a bonfire. His short, white-yellow hair rippled in the cavern’s hot breeze. His eyes were blue, like the hottest of flames. A blue cloth with gold edging tied around his hips, sarong style. A wide gold band wrapped around his waist and high on his ribs like a prizefighter’s title belt. A gold medallion with an enormous, square cut ruby hung from his neck on a thick chain. It looked more official than ornamental.

“As I said, you may call me Fire. I am that element, as are you now…or as close as a mortal can be.”

She was burning with questions, but the smell of fresh lava grabbed her attention. Suddenly crazy with hunger, she searched for the source of the scent. There! To the left of his throne, only ten feet away, glowed a vein of molten rock. Curiously, it didn’t harden and flow as lava normally would, but swirled in a gentle current, trapped in a little pool.

The sight drove her mad. The elemental was no longer important. She rushed to the pool and dropped to its bank, reaching for the heat with greedy senses. She drew in its essence, consumed with vicious hunger. She hadn’t realized the strength of her need, how overwhelming her desire. This went beyond physical, deep into the center of her being. She couldn’t live without this.

He’d meant to intimidate her, frighten her off, but Raze felt a stab of pity as the girl choked. She was pitifully gaunt, obviously unable to govern her hunger.

He remembered hunger and a time when he was little more than a bag of bones for want of fire. Eight hundred years he sat on a rock barely large enough to lie on, imprisoned in a water bubble, while his friend Water languished in a dry cell a stone’s throw away. Earth suffered his own hell, suspended in air, unable to feed on the precious earth energy only feet away.

The Fates helped humans capture and imprison them; the Fates had a lot to answer for.

He blinked away the past and focused on the girl, desperately drawing in nourishment. This girl used to be human, but they would stone her now. She was his kind and she belonged to him.

A powerful surge of possession made him silently snarl. She was his, and he took care of his own.

He walked to her side, but she was so intent she didn’t react. She kept drawing in the essence, though she choked again in her haste. She reminded him of an infant or a young child who hadn’t been fed in days. “Slowly. You’ll hurt yourself.”

She shuddered, but barely slowed. He grasped her shoulder and reduced the flow of energy. “Stop! Enough.” He gently squeezed, and she stopped with a little moan.

She’d had too much, but it was so good! She moved away and sat panting on the sandy floor.

“I’m sorry. The candles…they weren’t enough,” she explained, closing her eyes. Her belly felt distended. She wanted to rest now.

“You tried to feed off candles?” He sounded surprised. “Didn’t they give you any instruction?”

She opened her eyes and stared. “Instruction? You mean those bitches that burned me?” She laughed bitterly. “They dumped me in my room, on the floor. I don’t remember it.”

He considered. “You’re very thin,” he said slowly, as if adding up the evidence. “Did you try to light a fire?”

“Where?” The nausea from traveling as spark warred with her full belly, and she groaned in quiet misery. “There was no good place to do it.”

He tapped his finger against his thigh in a show of displeasure. Even if she had the opportunity, ordinary fire was scarcely food for her. She’d grown weak.

He toyed with the idea of tossing her out, letting her fend for herself. She’d probably survive...or he could take her in. He grimaced as his primitive side roared an emphatic yes. The Fates had probably counted on that outcome, but what else could he do? She was his kind now and vulnerable. He wasn’t completely without conscience…and she was his.

His eyes fell on his gems, the bracelet and the jewel in her nose. If he knew what trouble he forged when he’d made them, he would have tossed them in the sea.

“I will give you my bed for this night. Tomorrow we will see what is to be done,” he said firmly. He waited, but when she didn’t move, he pulled her to her feet. She drew a sharp breath and wove dizzily.

“I don’t…” she stumbled into him and made no more protest as he wrapped his arm around her and half-carried her to the bed. He let go as soon as she was close enough to land on the linen. “Don’t burn my sheets,” he warned. “I dislike shopping.”

“You shop?” she mumbled in disbelief.

“Weaving cloth is boring and domestic; women’s work.” He frowned at her smoldering clothes with distaste and gestured, extinguishing the tiny flames.

She would have commented on his arrogance, but she was already asleep.

Kira woke, feeling uncommonly surly. She loathed mornings, and this one came with a growling belly. She felt like an angry grizzly, fresh from hibernation. She wanted food!

The lava scent drew her with uncommon haste. Better than coffee, more appealing than grilled steak and eggs with a side of buttery fried potatoes, she knew it would fill and satisfy her as no ordinary food could. She knelt at the pool, prepared to gobble and gulp, when Fire chided her.

“Slowly this time.”

She sent him a resentful glare, but attempted to feed slowly. It was more difficult than she would've believed. He had to intervene again, to stop her gorging. He took over the flow of fire, feeding it to her in a trickle. It was intimate, like being spoon-fed. She didn't like it.

“We wouldn't have to do this if you learned control,” he observed, somehow managing to remain remote.

“I don’t need your help,” she grouched, though it was probably a lie. “I should have burned your sheets…if I knew how,” she muttered. She didn't feel like she'd ever be full, but she sensed she'd had enough. Even so, she couldn't have stopped without his help.

She sat on the sand with one arm draped across her knee, letting things settle. The energy swirled inside her body, feeding hungry cells. It felt like it might be days until she was fully recharged, though she was no expert. She considered her bracelet. She knew whose it was. “Why did you let them do this?” she asked, unhappy.

He had been kneeling at her side, but he stood at her words, looking irritable. “It wasn’t done on my orders.” If he’d planned to say more, he thought better of it. “You should rest.”

That made her angry. “I need answers! How do I undo this? How do I get these off?” she demanded, tugging at the bracelet. It might as well have been welded to her flesh. She held it out to him, but he turned away.

“It doesn’t come off.”

She blew out an impatient breath. “I know that! I can’t get it off, but you must know how. It’s yours, isn’t it? That’s what they said.”

“Your wedding jewelry,” Destiny had said. “He made it himself.” She felt a chill.

He slanted a glance at her as he returned to his throne. He said nothing.

“I’m not married to you,” she said forcefully. “I want you to take these back.”

He didn’t like that. His mouth tipped into a cruel smile. “They were forged long ago, with metals you’ve never encountered. They protect you from the flame that feeds you. If they could come off, you would crumble to black char as you fed. The lava you crave would devour you.”

She glanced at the lava pool and swallowed. “Can’t I…isn’t there a way to return to what I was?” she pleaded.

He mellowed. “Can a fledgling grown into an eagle become an egg? There is no going back.”

She swallowed that bitter pill in silence. No going back. No normal life for her. What did that mean for her future? She drew an unsteady breath. “I have a job. All my stuff is in Alaska.”

He regarded her without interest. “Send for it. Unless you wish to find an active volcano there, you’ll waste away. As for the arctic winter…you can survive it, but you will find the cold more bitter than ever.”

She laughed without humor, knowing he was right. The thought of snow chilled her, but…. “I can’t live in a lava tube my whole life.” She cast him a dark look. “I can’t live with you.”

He tapped his index finger on the armrest as he stared into space. At length he said, “I could let you go. It might be the death of you, though. It would grieve me to see an elemental’s life wasted, even if she were once human.

“But what to do with you? You can’t even eat on your own.” He considered her broodingly.

She didn’t like his train of thought. “I can build fires in Alaska, but even if I did find it uncomfortable, I have a commitment to my job and my boss. I have to explain why I’m leaving, if I’m leaving. I haven’t decided yet, but I can’t just relocate here. I’d have to find another job, get an apartment, all kinds of stuff. It’s a lot to consider.”

He smiled knowingly. “Don’t think you can easily return to your former life. The Fates would certainly interfere, if they haven’t already. They did not go to such lengths to see you walk away from me.” His smile grew wide with malicious delight. “Though you may try, of course. I won’t stop you.”

“Why?” Kira demanded. “What can I do for them? If you didn’t order this, then what do they want?”

He rose to his full height, a terrible light in his eyes. “They want me to love you. They want me to spare your worthless kind. They want me to forgive.”

She held very still. Instinct made her lower her eyes. He looked ready to strike, and his words were hammer blows.

His power washed over her, burning with its intensity. “I will never love you. I will not forgive. I will stand aside and watch as the world burns.”

There was a moment of awful silence, and hot sparks struck her cheek as he rose in a cloud of fire and ash to shoot from the cave.

Kira drew a careful breath. She felt cold and a little sick. She couldn’t stay here, not with him. The man was dangerous.

She sighed regretfully, but she couldn’t take the lava pool with her. She’d have to figure something else out.

It was a hard climb down, and she earned plenty of scrapes and bruises. She wouldn’t risk traveling as spark, though. Not only did it make her ill, but she was afraid to tamper with her current form. What if she couldn’t turn back?

As she picked her way across the lava field, anxiety churned in her gut. She didn’t want to leave the only sure source of food she knew. It would probably be a couple of days until she could eat as she traveled back, and she was already weak. She’d visibly filled out since dining on lava, but she knew how fast she could waste away. Besides, she hadn’t even tried to find the women who’d done this. She only had his word that it wasn’t reversible.

There was a lot she didn’t know. Why was he so angry? What was with the jewelry? If he didn’t want to be tied by them, why create them? Wedding jewelry...it didn’t make sense. Maybe the items were stolen from him. But why? And why did the Fates pick her?

All that stuff about love…well, duh! She wasn’t about to expect a psychopathic freak of nature to love her. She wasn’t feeling his charm, but he knew stuff. Maybe he knew a way she could travel away from fire and not waste away.

She bit her lip, but discarded the notion of staying. She would have to manage on her own. She couldn’t stay with a man like him.

Driving away from the lava flow was torture. She focused hard on her goal of returning the rental car. She longed to turn around, to return to the fire where she would be safe. She felt as if every moment away were cooling her, like a coal that broke from the main fire.

Halfway to the hotel, she was forced to discard the idea of looking for the Fates. She felt weak, moody. Hungry. The black clouds moving in mirrored her emotions, making them worse. The heat from the sun might have helped.

By the time she checked into her hotel, the sky was dark with angry storm clouds. Kira lay on her bed and tossed. She could feel the lava calling her. She could feel him.

Temptation welled. Instinct told her where to find the lava. She could turn to spark, and was hungry enough it sounded appealing. Now that she’d fed from it, the need for volcanic energy tugged her relentlessly. Worse, it was something she needed. She’d die if she didn’t feed.

She opened the balcony doors. Damp wind hit her face as she watched the tossing ocean. A sizzle of lightning lashed the sky, burning with an energy she could nearly taste.

She drew a fast breath. Could she feed off lightning? It was a kind of fire.

Instinct slammed her; she couldn’t control herself. With a thought, she became spark; a confusing shower of stars that shot into the sky, searching for lightning. A bolt shot over the sea, and she raced for it. A wash of energy filled her, and she exulted; she’d fed! It was strange stuff, and it made her feel drunk, but she didn’t care. She wouldn’t have to go back to the lava! There were other ways to survive.

The first drops of rain were a nuisance; she shook them off, but as the rain thickened, she faltered. Fire and rain didn’t mix.

Worried, loopy from the lightning buzz, she peered at the island, trying to get her bearings. She’d moved too far from land; she wasn’t sure which hotel was hers, and the rain was torrential. She lost altitude.

Desperate, she locked on the lava’s call, fought toward it. She sensed it, a bright flame in her consciousness. As she flew closer, she saw its glow in the darkness.

But she was getting tired. The rain froze and stung. She floundered, like an exhausted swimmer in deep water. The rain fought her, tossing her in the air. She was losing the spark form, growing heavy. Would she become human again, or merely snuff out? The beach drew closer, but not close enough.

Just as she thought she would die, a rush of fire shot from the island, caught her in its heat. She felt relief as she recognized the energy. Fire had saved her.

They swept over the dark rocks, Fire sweeping her effortlessly along. She trembled with shock and chill when they coalesced in human form within his cave. He held her in his arms and swore as he crossed to the lava pool. “No sense at all! You had nothing to eat, but left it until you had to fly back in a storm? If you were coming to me, why didn’t you use your human form? Are you suicidal?” He lowered her beside the pool. Only then did she notice her hands and arms were covered with large black spots. She recoiled. “What happened to me?” she cried, frantically brushing at the spots. She looked diseased!

“What did you think happens to spark in a deluge? Hold still.” His eyes snapped blue flames as he channeled energy from the fire into her body. When she struggled, he growled, “What is it with you?” Then suspiciously, “Why does your fire feel so…you’re lightning drunk!” He snatched his hands away and glared. “You risked death for a taste of lightning?”

She shivered, cowed by her brush with death. “I was hungry.” It sounded wretched, and she lowered her eyes in self-disgust. “I didn’t think about the rain.”

He exhaled hard. “Worse than a child,” he muttered, sounding aggrieved. He fixed her with a hard stare. “Well? There’s food. If you haven’t managed to die yet you probably won’t.”

Chastened, she turned her attention to the fire. She ached, but the flow of fire felt good, healing. It soothed the shivers that wracked her body, faded the dark blotches to light shades of gray. Unfortunately, when finished feeding she still felt terrible.

He saw her gingerly touch her head and snorted. “Lightning headache. It affects a fire elemental like too much wine.”

That was an understatement. Her head throbbed, and it made her wonder. “Have you ever tried it?”

A touch of smile curved his mouth. He looked reluctantly amused. “The young do many foolish things.”

She grinned. “So you did. I feel better about it now.”

His smile vanished. “Do not. I was stronger than you are. Another attempt might be your last.”

She sighed and stumbled to her feet. “Don’t worry. I’ll leave lightning drinking to moonshiners. Is there anything else I should avoid?” She massaged her temples, trying to ease the pain. It felt as if someone was electrocuting her brain, and she swayed.

He grasped her arm to steady her. “We can discuss that later. It’s best if you sleep now.”

All but blind, she allowed him to lead her. She sat obediently on the bed because it was better than falling over. “I don’t think I can sleep. Do you have any medicine I could take? I have some ibuprofen in my hotel room.”

“Human medicine won’t work on you now.” She heard him rustling around. A cork popped, and she smelled a sharp, astringent scent. She jerked away, opening her eyes to see the vial he held under her nose. “Ugh! What is it?” It burned her nose, but her head felt better immediately. With less pain came crushing fatigue.

He didn’t answer, simply drew the covers back and took off her shoes. “Let’s hope you get less sand in the sheets this time.”

She growled, but quietly. Her head wasn’t a hundred percent yet. Besides, it felt good to lie down. She let him cover her with the blanket, but felt obliged to warn him, “This is temporary. I’m leaving tomorrow.”

He didn’t look impressed. “If you can walk out of here tomorrow, I may even let you.”