Taming the Fire by Sydney Croft

failed in both. Oh, God, she was in trouble. She'd kill herself before she let anyone capture her. Then again, those Itor bastards could blow her head off at the touch of a button if they were close enough, so maybe she'd die anyway.
    Trance caught her as she whipped open the door and stepped into the hall. “Rik, what are you doing?”
    “I-I'm sorry,” she mumbled. “Have to go.” She started past him, but he captured her wrist, his hold firm and unyielding.
    “What's going on?”
    She swallowed hard, felt the scrape of the dreaded collar on her skin, an ever-present, horrifying reminder that she was on the run, never safe. Never free. Trance's clamp on her arm only magnified her terror.
    “Let go of me.” She struggled against his hold, wishing her voice didn't shake. That her knees weren't doing the same.
    He blinked as though he hadn't even realized he'd grabbed her, and then he released her. “God, Rik, I'm sorry. Did I hurt you?”
    “What? Oh, no.” His strength… he'd been worried he'd injured her with his strength. Didn't matter. Nothing mattered but the danger sensation that still crawled over her skin like ants. “Who was that man you were talking to?”
    “I don't know.” His voice lowered. “But he was asking a lot of questions about you. I think he saw us together. Are you in trouble?”
    Oh, shit. Shit, shit, shit. “It's nothing.” She inched toward the exit, her panic starting to cloud her mind. The dark-haired man might be a nobody, maybe just someone who'd come for her reputation, but if she was building a rep… that was bad too. Itor could find her.
    “Bullshit.” He moved with her, a mass of lean muscle and sudden anger. “Don't lie to me. Is someone trying to hurt you?”
    A buzz of pleasure replaced the fear for a split second. Trance cared. She felt it in his fury, smelled it in his anger. Damn, she was scared, had been alone for so long and just this once she wanted someone to care whether she lived or died.
    Then there was the fact that Trance was… special. Enough to put him in danger. She hated this, but maybe it was time to let someone in. Just a little. She couldn't run off and leave him to Itor—if the newcomer was, indeed, an agent.
    “Look, this is going to sound crazy,” she blurted. “But yes, there are some very bad people after me. They use people like us… I mean, like you. You aren't safe if they know what you are.”
    One blond brow arched. “That does sound crazy, but we can talk about that later. Right now… the guy strikes me as trouble, even if he's just a stalker.”
    “He's more than that.” She measured the distance to the side exit. Twenty steps, at the most. “We have to get out of here.”
    “I told him I'd meet him next door in half an hour.”
    “Why?”
    Trance grinned, like all of this was a game. He didn't understand the gravity of the situation, and she wasn't sure how she'd explain, but she'd work that out later.
    “To give us time to bail,” he said, taking her hand and pulling her toward the door. “I'm hoping he'll either head over there or think he has a little time to get to you while I'm waiting for him.”
    “Thank you.” She had to choke out the words, because as grateful as she was, she couldn't—wouldn't—forget that the last person who helped her had paid with his life.
    T HEY HIT the door at a run and exploded into the alley where Trance had saved her the other night.
    “This way,” she said, heading for the street. “We can take the tube to—”
    “I have a car.”
    He took her hand and dragged her in the opposite direction. They dashed up a side street and behind a block of apartments. Ahead, a black BMW flashed its lights and beeped. “There,” he said, keys in hand as he opened the passenger door for her. He hopped in the driver's seat, and in moments, they were on the road.
    She kept an eye out for a tail, and she noticed he did the same, calmly, probably because he still didn't realize the danger they