Fire Kissed
“The driver of the first, a wraith, got out and opened the rear door.
Within the vehicle, Jack caught a flash of pale skin, red hair—Kaye was all right. A wave of “Alive” went through the angels stationed nearby, Laurence recalling those who’d been dispatched to search for her.
Jack was relieved—visions of the worst had tormented him through the long night—but the feeling was quickly turning sour with alarm. His whole body buzzed with it.
Kaye took the monster’s hand and allowed it to help her out. Her expression was haughty, hair swept back in a twist. And she wore a dead animal for a coat—not her usual style.
“Jack,” she said, in passing, which staked him through his gut to his spot on the sidewalk. He was Bastian to her.
What did she mean?
A small entourage of wraiths and mages followed her inside. “My things are upstairs, in the first room on the right,” she was saying. “If anything is ruined, I’ll be very unhappy. Each pair of shoes must be individually boxed.”
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