Master of Fire by Angela Knight Read Free Book Online

Exposure to all those magic-wielding immortals tended to encourage bitterness, if not psychopathy. Witness poor Bors’s son, Richard, who had tried to murder Arthur in an act of death magic last year.
    So Gwen had taken an eighteen-year sabbatical from the Mageverse for the child’s sake, with Arthur in and out as his duties permitted. The couple had bought the house here on the theory that the surrounding small town was a good place to raise children. Smoke gathered Logan had purchased it from them after graduating college. He . . .
    Something rustled, interrupting Smoke’s train of thought.
    Someone cursed. Loudly.
    “Shhh!” a drunken young voice hissed back. “We don’t want to wake him up!”
    Smoke lifted his head off his paws. Oh, now this sounds interesting .
    He stuck his head out from under the bushes in time to see four teenaged boys sneaking toward the massive oak that reigned over Logan’s front yard. All were dressed in black jeans and T-shirts or hoodies, apparently in some laughable idea of stealth. Each carried a roll of toilet paper.
    Ahhhhh, yessssss. Entertainment.
    Smoke slid from beneath the bush, casting a spell in a ripple of sparks and energy that rolled from his black nose to the tip of his twitching tail. Then he padded up behind the boys as they surrounded the oak.
    Black as he was, the boys didn’t see him until one of them wound up to cast his roll of toilet paper over the tree.
    “And what,” Smoke purred, “do you lads think you’re doing?”
    The boys wheeled. Four pairs of eyes widened, faces going bloodless in the light of the full moon. And to Smoke’s delight, the pranksters screamed in chorus like terrorized little girls. All four dropped their rolls and fled like all the demons of hell were at their heels.
    He watched them go, tail swishing lazily, and contemplated pursuit with a certain wicked glee.
    A door opened and the porch light flicked on, flooding the front yard. “Smoke, is that you?” Logan demanded, sounding sleepy and irate. “Jesu, what the hell are you doing? I almost shot you.”
    “Saving your oak from being festooned with toilet paper.” The cat turned.
    It was just as well Giada wasn’t here. Logan stood in all his shirtless glory, barefoot and wearing only a pair of jeans he hadn’t bothered to zip, his nine-millimeter in one hand. He shook his dark head in disgust. “Probably my neighbors’ kids, aka the Four Stooges. Those idiots try something at least once a month. I always run them off before they get started.” He grimaced. “I think I’ve become a challenge.”
    “Somehow I doubt you’ll have that problem again.” Smoke grinned, revealing gleaming fangs the length of daggers. Fangs that went with the rest of his eight-hundred-pound body. “Aren’t you going to offer me a saucer of milk?”
    Logan snorted. “More like a turkey platter. Unless you want to switch forms before you terrorize the rest of my neighbors . . .”
    “Oh, very well.” Another wave of magic, and Smoke’s tiger-sized body shrank down into house cat dimensions once more. He strolled up the brick steps and leaped easily into Logan’s arms.
    “What are you doing here, anyway? I haven’t seen you in months.” Logan gave him an absent ear scratch.
    “I was bored. I thought I’d drop by.” He cocked his head, eyes narrowing, as he enjoyed the sensation of those long fingers digging in. The boy had a talent for finding the perfect spot to scratch. He hummed in pleasure as Logan turned to carry him back into the house. “So, what have you been up to? Anything interesting going on?”
    “Well, there’s this new chemist I’m training at work . . .”
    Smoke sniffed in feigned disdain. “I’m not interested in the activities of some balding nerd.”
    One corner of Logan’s lips twitched up. “Believe me, she’s not a nerd, and she’s definitely not balding.”
    The cat gave him an innocent blink. “ ‘She’? Do tell, my boy. Do tell.”

    Terrence