Page 19 of Fire Dancer

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Page 19 of Fire Dancer

“Let me guess,” Pippa continued. “You even have the marketing planned. What will you call the place? Painted Rock Gated Community? Painted Rock Ruined Subplots?”

“Is something burning?” Louise Bartly asked.

Pippa didn’t seem to hear. “Painted Rock Cooker-Cutter Mansions? Painted Rock Starter Castles, each with their own Garage Mahal?”

My eyes fell to the desk and, crap. The real estate listing was going black around the edges. The pages curled, and a thin wisp of smoke rose.

I grabbed Pippa’s shoulder while Hardy smacked at the flames.

“Fire! Fire! Stop!” he grunted, as if the fire might obey.

It didn’t. Not until I squeezed Pippa’s shoulder — hard. She blinked a few times, then glanced down with a sour look.

“Holy crap…” Hardy continued smacking at the flames, and finally, they extinguished. “Where did that come from?”

Pippa crossed her arms and glared.

I pulled her away while pointing to his glasses. “Looks like the angle was just right for a magnifying glass effect.”

Hardy snatched up his glasses and peered at the lenses, then the sunlight streaming through the window. “Huh. That’s never happened before…”

No shit. I towed Pippa toward the door.

“Maybe you should be more careful,” she snipped.

“With your glasses,” I hurried to add. “Goodbye.”

The moment I shoved the door open, the heat of the day hit us like a wall. I thrust Pippa through it and out onto the sidewalk.

She glared at Hardy, then at me. “Whose side are you on anyway?”

“Yours.” I towed her away before Hardy figured out what had set off that fire. “You want to be charged for assault and arson?”

She jerked her arm free. “Hitting a desk with a piece of paper isn’t assault.”

“And what about the fire?”

“What about it?”

I pinned her with a stern look and towed her toward her car. A glance back showed me she was tearing up, but it wasn’t until we reached the car that she let them flow.

“I can kiss Venice goodbye,” she mumbled through her tears.

I bent closer. Venice?

“Even worse, I might have to kiss the ranch goodbye,” she went on miserably. Then she balled her fists and banged on the car roof. “I have to win that contest. I have to.”

“What contest?”

Her answer was so garbled, I settled for rubbing her back softly.

“It will be okay.”

I wished someone could rub my back, though. I knew exactly what set off that fire in Hardy’s office. And as an agent of the ADMSA, I was duty bound to report it — and any other supernatural activity that qualified as harassment or assault. But I was also madly in love with Pippa, and I would always, always stand on her side. But one of these days…

I wrapped my arms around Pippa and tucked my head over hers, wondering where this would all lead. Bitter disappointment, no doubt. For her, for me, and for our foolish hearts.

Chapter Five




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