White Fire: Timewalker Chronicles, Book 5 Read Free

she’d inherited from her father. The talent had come in handy since she’d been stuck here. Saved her life more than once. She’d just have to come back for her car tomorrow. Or not. It was a ten-year-old piece of junk she’d bought for a couple thousand in cash. Thanks to Bran’s meticulous planning, and years of visiting Earth herself, she had millions of dollars stashed in bank accounts under various names, and the identification to go with each one. She’d closed one account when she first arrived and stashed the cash in several safe deposit boxes scattered around the city. She had more than enough money to buy a new car.
    He poured her another shot and she lifted the small glass again, slowly this time, so she could rub it all over her lips and make sure the man got the message. He stared at her mouth like he was hypnotized by it.
    “You want to wait around a few minutes? I’d love to buy you a drink when I get off.”
    She smiled and leaned forward. “I thought maybe I could just fix you a drink at your place.”
    He straightened and stared at her a few seconds. She was dead serious. “Sure. That sounds great. Don’t go anywhere.” He tapped the bar and moved down the line to the rest of the patrons he’d been ignoring to flirt with her.
    Emma sighed and poured the shot into a half-empty and abandoned beer mug on her left while his back was turned, and resigned herself to waiting. Fifteen minutes and she had her ticket out of here. Her friends would miss her, but she couldn’t see them again anyway. Time for a clean break.
    The cinnamon alcohol made her throat burn, but she didn’t mind. She needed a jolt. But two shots, and she’d get that warm fuzzy feeling that made her careless. Not a good idea tonight, not with her jump ability broken and Hunters tracking her like bloodhounds.
    Surely, she could hide for fifteen minutes. She tried to look outside, past the glass garage doors, into the shadows in the streets. But it was dark out, and the bright lights from the interior of the bar held nothing but reflections. She saw her reflection, the brown wig and big, sad eyes. Was that really her?
    Well, that forlorn little lost girl couldn’t be the auburn-haired beauty everyone told her was destined to tame a King.
    Yeah. She could hide for a few more minutes.
    She turned back to face the bar and lifted her head, scanning the line of faces sitting or standing around her. Some were drinking, some waiting for their alcohol fix. All smiling and laughing, no sluts or players here. Mostly older, married people, in jeans and T-shirts. Most of the people in this bar knew who they were and already had what they wanted.
    And then she saw him.
    Dark green eyes devoured her with their gaze from the other end of the bar. He had gorgeous hair that shone like polished mahogany in the bar’s faint light. A deep shade of brown, it was just long enough to frame his face, and just long enough that she could wrap her hands in it and not see them again until she released him.
    He was Itaran. An Immortal. She was sure of it. She’d seen enough of the gorgeous males growing up to know power when she saw it. The knowledge had been hard-won, as both Bran and her parents had been determined to keep her as far from the Immortals on Itara as they could. Which she’d always thought was a cruel joke. They expected her to rule the Immortals one day, but never see one? Ridiculous.
    She was a jumper. And curious. And she’d taken her chances on more than one occasion, jumping to the few cities on Itara where she knew she’d be one more human among many, lingering in places where the human government and the Itaran mingled. Straining for a glimpse of the elusive Immortals. Humans outnumbered them on Itara, by about a hundred thousand to one, which just made catching a glimpse of one in person equivalent to a human in this bar meeting a rock star or famous actress in person.
    In other words, nearly impossible, if you were a normal,