Make Me Burn: Fireborne, Book 2 Read Free Page B

me.” She blew a stray hair out of her face and reached for another dolma . “Go, Team Te.”
    “Letters to other countries, especially to military types, tend to take time finding their recipients,” Greg reasoned. “Plus, if anyone in his squad saw Joseph escape the blast and didn’t report it, they might not be in a hurry to admit that omission. Be patient.”
    “Gregory Prophet makes a valid point, as usual.” Te’s voice had Aziza choking on the drink she’d just shot back. “And your singular Qarin is doing everything that consensus allows to aid you.”
    Gasping from ouzo going down the wrong pipe, Aziza looked up at the Niyr as Greg laughed and got to his feet, his eyes wide with obvious appreciation.
    “Look at you, beautiful. Are you taller? No?” He guided Te into the booth and waited for her to slide in before he sat down beside her. “There is something different about you, isn’t there? I just can’t put my finger on what it is this time.”
    Aziza didn’t even try to hide her smile. “Try cup size, babe—it looks like she’s up to the third letter of the alphabet. And you really shouldn’t ‘put your finger on it’ in public.”
    When Greg sent her a chiding look, her grin widened. Te’s breasts were definitely bigger, and Aziza was fairly positive the change wasn’t for her benefit this time. The Niyr had changed her form more than once since they met. She’d been a creepy boy in a school uniform, a quietly attractive woman in her twenties and a little girl attempting to escape Aziza’s wrath, and the only thing they all had in common was their coloring—pale skin, platinum hair and the black, bottomless eyes of the Niyr.
    This was the body she’d had the last several times Aziza had seen her, that of a young woman with modest, fifties fashion sense and a fresh, innocent face. The look was still off, but far prettier than her previous incarnations. Angelic. If Greg’s suppositions were true, the Niyr were what ancient humans called angels. Only they weren’t really messengers from heaven—just emotionless brainiacs from a parallel world who thought they knew everything, and for some reason hated the Jinn as much as the werewolves did. There was nothing cherubic or heavenly about that .
    “So, Te, what are you doing here?” Aziza asked. “Do your people have a fondness for dolmas you never told me about?”
    Te held herself stiffly beside Greg and shook her head. “I don’t eat, Fireborne. I believed since the two of you were alone and the discussion was of some import, you would require guidance.”
    Reaching for another bite-sized treat, Aziza smirked. “Since when did you think this topic was important? The last I heard you were against my plan. In fact, weren’t you the one who tried to trick us into giving you Tarik’s vial because of the one-portion-of-sand-per-customer rule?”
    “I thought we were Team Te now.” Greg put his arm around the Niyr’s shoulders protectively. “Ignore her. She had another fight with her werewolf.”
    “I know.” Te’s voice reflected no emotion, but the way she glanced at Greg’s hand was revealing. “She is antagonistic but not incorrect. The Niyr were not expecting her to attempt a retrieval of all the vials sent out by the keeper. As I’ve said before, the Zhaman’s allotment is exact. However, a consensus has been reached that while I may not aid the endeavor, I will also make no effort to impede the Fireborne’s chosen course.”
    “I’m so glad you all agree on something you have no say in,” Aziza murmured, refilling her glass.
    Te tilted her head. “As to the Enforcer, from what I’ve observed, the time you spend defending your exiled Jinn Qarin appears to be the primary source of friction between you.”
    Ram again.
    “No,” Aziza corrected with exaggerated patience. “Brandon’s insistence on treating me like a helpless female and breaking our dates without telling me why is the primary source of friction.