Page 38 of Ignited

And how was she going to persuade this mysterious, terrifying creature to give her what she needed? She had the sinking feeling that Thanatos was used to being the one making demands, and that he always got what he wanted.

She could feel her tiger wanting to come out again. They hadn’t had their potion, and there had been too much adrenalin and chaos and upset. Stay inside, Karisma told her desperately. We have to talk, not attack. We have to convince him.

But a cramp rippled across her stomach, and she felt fur growing and receding.

Boomer squeezed her hand and smiled at her, but she couldn’t manage to smile back.

Finally they reached their destination—a huge study completely lined with books. On one side of the room were shelves of ancient-looking, leather-bound tomes and even some scrolls. The books became more modern-looking as you moved around the room, culminating in new-looking books with bright paper jackets.

A centuries-old timeline of literature.

Thanatos glided around behind a humongous antique carved desk, and sat in an equally humongous antique chair, as if taking his throne. The white-haired, hollow-cheeked man Boomer had called ‘Sugar’ went to stand just behind Thanatos’ right shoulder.

Two of the soldiers who had followed them took positions on either side of the door, weapons out but not aimed. The third left, and closed the door behind him.

Gunn propped his hips on the edge of a library table that sat against one wall. Karisma was glad he was there—a witness and an advocate, so Thanatos couldn’t make them just… disappear.

Boomer, without being invited, pulled up a velvet-upholstered chair for Karisma. She sat on the edge of it, unable to settle.

Boomer pulled up another chair next to her.

No one spoke.

Karisma was just opening her mouth to say something—anything—when the door opened and a man walked in with a tray holding a silver coffee service. He put it down on the edge of the desk and left as silently as he’d come.

How fucking civilized—for a sorcerer who was probably also a monster. She wondered what he’d ordered to be put in the coffee. Tranquilizers? Truth serum?

Boomer seemed to have no such worries. He was way too trusting sometimes. “Thank the gods,” he muttered. “Coffee.” He grabbed a cup and poured for himself, adding cream from the silver pitcher. Then he poured another cup for her and set it on the edge of the desk.

Karisma ignored it. Not only did she not trust Thanatos, she was too busy trying to keep her hands from becoming paws.

As Gunn poured himself some coffee and retreated back to his table, Thanatos began to speak.

“Now. Boomer. You will tell me why you brought this woman to Outlaw Ridge, and why I was not informed of her purpose here.” There was a faint note of distaste in the word ‘woman.’ Nice. On top of everything else, he was a misogynist?

Boomer stirred his coffee. “Well, we met last night at a fight club. I had a few beers, we fought, one thing led to another… I didn’t know we were supposed to clear our sexytimes with you. I hope you don’t want video.”

Thanatos’ voice grew tight. “I am already tired of your antics. I know she is a thief, known professionally as Karisma, who specifically targets sorcerers, and has never been caught. Until now. And I want to know what she wants in my territory.”

Karisma had had enough of them talking about her like she wasn’t there. And she was too angry to play games. She stood up, unable to stay in her seat, clenching and unclenching her hands to keep them from Changing.

“You know what I want,” she said to Thanatos. “You have the sixth piece of the Orb of Thekate. And one way or another, I’m going to get it from you.”

The hood stared at her for a long moment. Karisma gritted her teeth against another stomach cramp, another ripple of fur. Stay inside, dammit!

Then Thanatos said, “Really, Ms… Karisma.” He said her name like it tasted bad. “I have no intention of simply handing you another piece of such a powerful and dangerous artifact. Although with your reputation, I would have expected more finesse from you. At the very least, a compelling sob story, however false and contrived.”

Finesse? A compelling sob story? Like this was a fucking game, or a con? It was life and death. Hers.

“You want a compelling story?” she said. “Fine. Here’s one. As a bonus, it’s even true.”

She took a deep breath so her voice wouldn’t shake. “I was kidnapped by a sorcerer when I was eight years old. He was a human, doing experiments on shifters to see if he could take our magic. He put a collar on me that forced me to stay in my tiger form, and kept me in a cage like an animal. He owned a ratty little traveling circus that he used for a cover as we moved around the country, looking for more shifters. He and his daughter made us perform in the circus, so no one would suspect what we really were. It amused him.”

Next to her, she heard Boomer growl.

“In between, he did other things to us. Spells that felt like they were ripping us apart inside. He had these crystal rods that he used to drag parts of our shifter magic out of us.” She shivered, trying to separate the facts from her feelings, so she could talk about it without reliving it.

“We could see the power streaming out of our bodies, taking with it parts of our humanity, moving into a glowing crystal ball. He used to cradle that ball in his hands, roll it over his skin, like he was absorbing parts of us.”