Firebinders: Marek (The Firebinders Book 1) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  About the Author

  To Have and Hold

  Firebinders

  The Firebinders Series

  Book 1

  By

  Isobelle Cate

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Firebinders: Marek

  All rights reserved.

  Copyright 2017 © Isobelle Cate

  Published by Isobelle Cate

  [email protected]

  Manchester, United Kingdom

  Editing by Emily Kirkpatrick

  Cover by JRA Stevens/Down Write Nuts

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher. For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed “Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” at the email address above.

  Printed in the United Kingdom

  First Edition

  A firebinder. A scientist. A blood that heals. A blood that kills. A supernatural mortal in search of his kind. A woman in danger of losing her life and her heart.

  Marek Bannach, a firebinder, has been searching for the rest of his kind – mortals with the gift of fire in their blood – before they are killed off by someone only known as The Shadow. Accepting his friend’s help of a meeting with a powerful witch in New Orleans, his thoughts of self-preservation are derailed when he rescues a woman who stirs his blood, not realizing that she has something he needs.

  Gwen Fraser never expected a man with the deepest blue green eyes to keep rescuing her from continuing threats on her life. He intrigues her and sets her heart racing. Escaping those who want to harm her because of her research, she agrees to go to New Orleans with him. En route, he gives her an unguarded moment of pleasure, not realizing that he has something she wants.

  Thrown together by circumstances dictated by serendipity, they succumb to the passion that engulfs them even if only for a few days. But danger isn’t far behind and Gwen’s life is under threat once more.

  Now that he has found the woman the universe has decreed to be his, Marek must keep her safe at all cost.

  For all the fire in his blood will mean nothing without her.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  About the Author

  Esquiline Hill, Rome

  64 AD

  Screams of the victims pierced the air as the sparks flew with the wind in some macabre dance. Maximus Lucretius looked down from his place from the Esquiline Hill viewing the carnage that Nero had inflicted upon Rome. His face was grim. Since the time of Immaru they had never been hunted down like the Christians. They were a peace loving people; but the term ‘people’ was stretching it a bit. They were mortals who lived long, granted a gift from the god of fire and with it came a long life and a wealth of responsibility.

  Now they were being hunted down.

  Caius Gerontus joined him on his perch. He flicked the length of his senatorial robe over his shoulder. His face was also serious.

  “Nero must be stopped,” he said, the wind taking the heat from the fire below and the acrid smell of burning flesh to them.

  “There is no question about that,” Maximus replied while he continued to stare at the inferno beneath them. “But we are not here to discuss Nero. We are here to discuss our tribe’s fate.”

  They both turned back to the cave where a smaller fire burned surrounded by the heads of the remaining firebinder families.

  Maximus did not like this at all. They had always stayed close together, each family able to come to the aid of the other. Now with someone intent on eradicating them for good they now had to go their separate ways. Seneca Emilia and Claudia Octavia both had tears streaming down their ash smeared faces. Apart from their children who were sleeping deep inside the cave together with the rest of the other firebinder children, they were now the heads of their households after their husbands were murdered on separate occasions prior to Rome’s burning. Three more familial heads were with them; Titus Aquila, Cornelius Galo, and Flaminius Tarquin.

  “We need to have a way of knowing everyone is all right in wherever part of the world we are,” Claudia requested. “I do not think Immaru or Hephaestus would have wanted us to forget the ties that bind us.”

  “And we won’t,” Maximus agreed. “Caius being the tribe’s chronicler suggested that we meet every ten years.”

  “How do we ensure that we do?” Titus Aquila looked thoughtfully at the small bonfire in the center of their circle. The irony was not lost on any of them.

  “Each one of us will become a chronicler,” Maximus said.

  Everyone looked at him with raised brows.

  “We will have a set of codes to use to send messages to everyone. This code will also be used in letting the chronicler of that decade know if there have been any changes in our circumstances. When the decade is up that is when we reunite for a while, choose the next chronicler and disappear until the decade is done,” Caius said. “Then a new cycle ensues.”

  “It is going to be difficult,” Cornelius Galo opined.

  “Only because we have never had to consider it until today, Cornelius.” Flaminius Tarquin reasoned. “I, too, have reservations but it is the only way we can survive.” He l
ooked around. “We are no different from the Christians being slaughtered in the arena. It doesn’t matter that we are as pagan as the next.” His voice broke. “We have lost so many to this Shadow and we do not know when death decides to take one of us.”

  “Caius will need to teach us. Will there still be time?” Titus asked looking around the circle. “Right now the Shadow will be using Rome’s burning to search for us and kill us.”

  There was a physical ripple of murmurs at the mention of their nemesis.

  Maximus shook his head. “Caius has made copies for all of you.” He nodded to Caius who in turn took several scrolls out of his satchel and distributed these. “These symbols are just like Egypt’s hieroglyphics. These are what we will use. I am sure that over time these will change through the generations but the core will be there.” He paused for effect. “Guard it well.”

  The wind howled but it was not because of its force. Its howl was the unified screams of anguish and terror by those being sacrificed for Nero’s pyre. They all shuddered and tightened their hold on their cloaks.

  “It’s time.” No two words were spoken by Maximus that elicited the indescribable heaviness in his heart. He had been their wise man, their counsellor as Caius had been the tribe’s chronicler. They had evolved through the ages. From the nameless tribe given the name Girru Igisum meaning fire gift to using Immaru, their ancestress’ name instead, they had weathered time. Lived longer than the ordinary human but died when their time came. Maximus looked around at each one of the elders as they stood embracing each other.

  “It will not be long before we see each other again,” he assured them as much as he was assuring himself. “A decade will fly by quickly.”

  Maximus’ heart squeezed hard at the abject sadness in all of his friends’ faces. If there was another way out of this without them separating, he would have used it. Nobody knew what lay beyond the reaches of Rome. They would face the barbarians, people who were co-opted by Rome because they didn’t have any choice. But they were the Girru Igisum, descendants of the god who had given man the knowledge of fire. Maximus knew they would survive away from the changing and fractured Roman Empire.

  They just had to.

  The Four Seasons Hotel

  Austin, Texas

  Marek Bannach was skeptical. When his friend, Jarred Levinson, told him that his wife’s family could help him in his search for more people like him, he simply nodded. Had his friend really understood who Marek was? What he was capable of doing?

  “I’m telling you, there are many things Dani’s family can do.” Jarred took a swig from his beer.

  The Christmas fundraiser for children with cancer had winded down over an hour ago. All around them the staff were clearing tables of glasses and dessert plates that clinked as they were collected. Firefly lights were suspended overhead which also decorated the holly wreaths on the ballroom’s walls and the tiny topiaries in the centre of the tables. Many of those who attended the fundraiser had already left. The rest were staying in the hotel overnight before they left Texas for their respective homes.

  “Why? Because they’re witches? That,” Marek held up his hands at Jarred’s suddenly cold glare, “was just a statement of fact. Not meant to offend.” He took a swig of his own beer.

  “They are more than that.” Jarred eased up but eyed Marek warily. “They are healers. Clairvoyants. I owe Dani my life. My angel.”

  Angels. Right. Yet who was he to judge when he belonged to a race that ordinary humans would scoff as unreal. Marek pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. God, he needed to sleep. Something he’d value more than black gold right now. He must have just slept a total of fifty-six hours in the last month and he could feel his fatigue encroaching upon him the moment he leaned back on his chair. Earlier, the hotel’s ballroom heaved with men in Stetsons and women dripping in jewels. It had been another successful evening spearheaded by Jarred. Marek and Jarred had been nodding acquaintances when they met several years ago in a similar fund raising gig. Jarred had been racing in the Formula One circuit in Dubai when he met an accident that left him comatose. Had Marek known what had happened to his friend, he would have returned pronto to see if his gift could help Jarred wake from his coma. Dani had been there for Jarred nursing him back to health and eventually became his wife when Jarred decided to retire from the circuit. Back in Texas, he took over his family’s sprawling ranch and settled to a life of cattle raising. His accident was the one situation Marek was willing to forego his anonymity to see if he could help his friend. But he had been away, deep in the Ecuadoran mountains tracking another one of his kind.

  A firebinder.

  Unfortunately, he had been too late. The last firebinder of the Sheridan line was dead, lying in a pool of blood. He looked as though he had been mauled by wild animals but Marek knew better. The telltale signs of burnt earth around the dead body could have passed off as a bonfire area but not the burned out skin surrounding the victim’s throat until the fire melted the voice box. It was the firebinders form of execution. The Firebinders Chronicles only hinted at the possibility that the Shadow was one of them but it had never been proven. Seeing how Diego Sheridan had been killed left no doubt in Marek’s mind that it was one of their kind.

  The question was, why?

  “I don’t know, Levinson,” Marek said, so used to calling his friend by his surname. “I’ve met with those who said that they could help but only ended up with a huge hole in my pocket.”

  “A hole in your pocket.” Jarred scoffed. “If there’s a hole in there, there wouldn’t be any oil left.”

  Marek smirked. “I’m an explorer and oil fire fighter. Not an oilman.”

  “Could’ve fooled me. You were the one who said there was oil off the coast of Nova Scotia and Newfoundland long before the big guns came into the picture? How’d you do that?”

  “Long story, little time.” And it was a long story, all the way to the time when the Huns breached the walls of the crumbling Roman Empire.

  “You have the exploration skills any oil baron would give their eye teeth for.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of,” Marek grumbled looking at the liquid inside his beer bottle. He rubbed his thumb over part of the beer’s brand name. “I can’t keep trying out seers without exposing Lia and myself.”

  Jarred regarded him thoughtfully. “If it weren’t for Dani, I wouldn’t have believed there were others out there.”

  “You make it sound like we’re E.T.’s relatives.”

  “Did I say that?” Jarred’s brow puckered but there was mockery in his tone.

  “No.”

  “Then quit second guessing me, Bannach.” Jarred raised his bottle pointing it at Marek. “And don’t be a jackass. There are already too many of those in the world.”

  That hit a nerve. If someone else other than Jarred, Hank Heaton or Nathaniel “Rogue” MacRuadh told him that, that person would have sported a shiner.

  Or become a pile of ash.

  Or Marek wouldn’t just give a rat’s ass.

  Jarred took a long pull from his beer and swallowed. “So do you want me to ask Dani?”

  “Ask me about what?”

  Marek looked up. A lopsided grin curled his mouth at the adoration and love he saw in Jarred’s eyes. Dani took Jarred’s hand and was pulled down to his lap. Marek had seen that kind of love between his parents a long time ago. It was his lasting memory of them before they were murdered. He had been called away when he was supposed to have been with Rogue, fighting a fire that conflagrated from an oil spill in the North Sea. Lia had been with friends in Nova Scotia. They had hidden themselves for a very long time from the one who wanted to kill all of the firebinders. Unfortunately, his parents’ cards were up.

  “D’you know, I still can’t get my head around what you did,” Jarred said.

  Marek narrowed his eyes. “Stop looking at me like that.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like I’m different.”

&n
bsp; Jarred and Dani shared a look.

  “Dani’s different,” Jarred said. “When my brow rises she doesn’t raise a stink.”

  “That’s because I’m your wife,” Dani admonished gently.

  “Yes, you are,” Jarred murmured against her mouth.

  “I better go.” Marek rolled his eyes and stood leaving his quarter full bottle on the table and allowing the condensation to make a ring on the pristine table linen.

  “Not so fast.” Dani followed his movements. “Jarred told me about what you were looking for and he’s right. My family might be able to help you, especially my cousin, Janka Saint Cyr. Your gift must really be something.”

  “It is.” Marek couldn’t deny it. Jarred had seen him use his gift and there was no way Marek would make his friend look foolish by denying it. It would have been a different matter if Jarred didn’t see him heal Travis Murtagh after he was gored by a bull.

  “Murtagh can’t stop thanking you for something you did almost five years ago,” Jarred said. “I couldn’t explain how a gaping hole on his side could have healed so quickly.”

  “EMTs quick response.” Marek shrugged.

  “That’s what I said.” Jarred grinned. “Still doesn’t buy it.”

  “Only explanation he’ll get.”

  “If this quest is truly important to you, let my cousin help.” Dani offered. “What harm is there?”

  “Thanks, guys. I’ll think about it.” Marek smiled briefly, touched. He didn’t think there would be people who understood who he was. Anyone would have thought he was crazy, believing himself to have powers no other person had. Who would have thought he’d find someone who accepted him in Jarred and Dani? It wasn’t overnight. God, no one in his right mind would have accepted Marek hook, line, and sinker, and continued on as though healing with his fireblood was a daily occurrence.

  “Janka is arriving late tomorrow morning. And since there’s plenty of room at the ranch, you’re welcome to stay there and speak to her. If you still think that you’re not comfortable, then at least we tried and offered,” Dani said.