The Three Fates of Ryan Love Read Online Free Page A

her up against him. A sharp whistle brought Brandy to his other side. Ryan put an arm around each and held them tight.
    They were both breathing heavily, coughing as the smoke they’d inhaled caught in their chests. The fire didn’t cross the wall, but the smoke followed them and blotted out the stars. It felt like a message—a show of power. Ryan’s hand was warm and comforting against the bare skin at the small of her back. She concentrated on that instead.
    They lay like that for a long moment, neither of them saying a word. Finally Ryan turned his head and looked at her.
    He had questions and it wouldn’t be long before he wanted answers. Sabelle gathered up her scattered wits, ticked off the salient points of her story in her mind, and tried not to get ahead of herself.
    Step one, save Ryan Love. Mission accomplished.
    Step two, bind him to her. Work in progress.

T he wall they’d jumped had put them inside the grounds of a resort known for its prime location in downtown Tempe and for its picturesque setting. Even at this hour, lights still glowed brightly around the hotel, and as Ryan stepped from the grassy knoll where he’d landed with Sabelle, he felt like he’d stumbled onto a spotlit stage. Straight ahead, wide glass doors led from the lobby to a horseshoe driveway. This late, there weren’t any cars waiting for the bellboys to unload them, but a handful of uniformed employees joined a few other people milling around, peering curiously down the street where the red and blue glow of emergency lights flashed. No one even noticed the two of them crossing the lawn to the street.
    Things weren’t exploding anymore, and the rain had helped with the spread of fire, but the smoke was thick and acrid. Brandy huddled close as Ryan led Sabelle around the corner and back to the place they’d fled. Neither one of them spoke. Oh, he had a list of questions a mile long for Miss Sabelle Whoever-She-Was, but right now he needed to see the damage to Love’s, needed to know if it was as catastrophic as it seemed in that last glance before they’d fled. The storm eased by the moment, leaving a cold drizzle and damp gusts behind.
    Drawn by the explosions and sirens, people had already started to gather at the edges of the disaster zone. Police tape gave them clear boundaries, but news and camera crews pushed up against it, wanting to capture any grisly detail they could. The businesses that had bordered Love’s were in ruins as well as two across the street. Ryan’s second-story loft had been incinerated—just as the woman beside him had predicted—and all but the shell of walls had been blasted away. Ash drifted in the air like dirty snowflakes and the char of his burned future made each breath bitter.
    â€œBrandy,” he said as they approached the gathering. “Look small.”
    Brandy dutifully hung her head and bent her doggy ­elbows—a trick he’d taught her years ago. She’d never look harmless, but she pulled off pitiful like a champ.
    â€œGood girl.”
    Her tail wagged nervously.
    Ryan was a big man, used to having people get out of his way. But he must have looked every bit as bad as he felt, because he heard murmurs and dismayed exclamations as the small crowd parted for them. When they reached the edge of the police tape, he glanced at Sabelle and caught her wincing.
    â€œYou okay?” he asked.
    She nodded and reached for his hand, sucking in a soft breath at his touch. Every time they touched, as a matter of fact. As if some sensory overload were going on inside her. God knew she was blowing all his fuses.
    He caught the attention of one of the uniformed officers and the man hurried over.
    â€œSir? Are you okay?” he asked, his worried gaze shifting between Ryan and Sabelle.
    Ryan had to clear his throat a couple of times before he could speak. “I own Love’s,” he said. “We made it out just in