Page 74 of Fire Dancer

In another time or place, I might have chuckled at what had once passed for good sex. We’d come a long way since then.

Then it hit me. Maybe we hadn’t, because we’d broken up.

I swallowed hard and followed Pippa through the open barn door.

Inside, I glanced around the cavernous space. I’d heard the sisters call it a converted barn, but the only part that looked even halfway converted — unless fairy lights counted, because Pippa had those strung all over the place — was the bathroom I spied through an open door. Otherwise, the building was still packed with farm equipment, stalls, and cobwebs. At some point, someone had driven the tractor out and replaced it with a worn red couch. But that was pretty much it.

On the other hand, the place had potential. Even I could see that.

Pippa took my coat and hung it on a whimsical rack in the shape of a moose head, made completely from horseshoes. A housewarming gift from Abby, no doubt. Then she pointed me to the “living room” — the red sofa with a crate for a table in front of it. A second — or third or fourth — hand wood-burning stove had been installed, with a chimney rigged to a hole in the wall, the cracks roughly plugged with fireproof insulation. The firefighter in me couldn’t help checking it for flaws. Aesthetically, there were plenty. In terms of safety, though, it worked.

I sat while Pippa headed to the “kitchen,” a corner with a microwave, electric kettle, and a tiny fridge. There, she turned her sad, red eyes to me and offered me a drink. She stared at the kettle until it boiled, and my eyes drifted to the wall beyond her. The exposed beams doubled as shelves, and they were all lined with glass. Glass baubles. Glass flowers. Even a rabbit made of fused shards of glass. Each piece exploded with color and life.

So, there it was again — that reminder. For all the bad things in the world, there was beauty too.

My breath caught when I spotted the glass sculpture on a higher shelf. A dark wolf pointed his nose to howl at the moon as a second, gold-hued she-wolf wound around his body.

I swallowed hard. Was he howling in joy or sorrow? Were the two forever bonded or damned to an eternity ofnear but so far?

“Here,” Pippa murmured, handing me a mug.

We settled on the couch — me with a coffee, her with a tea — and I watched as she fumbled with a match and candle.

Pippa. Fumbling with fire. If that didn’t indicate how upset she was, what did?

On the third try, the match lit in a burst of sulfur. With shaking hands, Pippa brought it to the candle. For a moment, two tiny fires twisted, burning together. Then the match died, and the candle flared a little brighter.

“For Stacy,” she whispered.

For a long, quiet minute, we contemplated the dancing flame. I expected Pippa to murmur something likerest in peacewhen she blew it out, but instead…

“I promise I’ll get him for you.” Her whisper was fierce. “I swear, I will.”

Her words scared me, because I didn’t want Pippa tangling with Jananovich. But I was glad too, because maybe she finally understood what drove me.

Together, we stared at that empty spot where a bright light had burned just a moment before. My chest went tight, and again, I wished I could turn the clock back.

I would bet anything Pippa did too.

She slammed a hand on the couch, sending up a puff of dust. “You were right. And I didn’t listen.”

I knew how she felt, because I’d tried that trick a hundred times — replacing grief with anger.

I touched her shoulder. “What could you have done?”

Yeah, kind of hypocritical, me counseling someone about regret.

She puffed out her cheeks, and another long minute went by.

Yeah, I knew that feeling too.

“Okay. Tell me,” she demanded. “Tell me everything — what you know and what you suspect.”

That second category was packed. The first…not so much. But I did my best to summarize, touching on the same points I’d explained to the leaders of Twin Moon pack.

Victor Jananovich, vampire and criminal warlord with a tendency to drink his staff dry — and not in a good way. Drugs…murders…pricey escorts…

“Escorts?” Pippa whipped around at that.