Read The Burn for Free Online Page A

of grass, just this long stretch of white sand, like a canvas."
    She nodded, still feeling lost.
    "I used to live in the city," he told her. "Very different place, but then, I was a very different person there."
    She looked down at him from the litter.
    "We all have our past lives," he said, meeting her gaze. "Don't we, Miranda?"
    She pressed her lips together, catching the emphasis he had placed on her name. It had been done with purpose, as if he were trying to reach her without provoking suspicion, as if he knew she was being held against her will.
    She shook her head, staring into the warm hazel of his eyes. Who are you?
    He broke into a relaxed smile. "You alright?"
    "I—"
    "Miranda?"
    She looked away from him, her attention drawn to the towering sculpture ahead. It rose from the center of the desert, an alien version of a man with straight limbs and a triangular head, faceless as it scanned the pale horizon.
    The Burning Man.
    Miranda stared at it in horror, the brutal line of its shoulders haloed in white sunlight, its blank face calling images from her soul.
    Don't be afraid, beautiful Miranda.
    She lost her breath, the terror now all consuming. There had been so much blood, slick on her skin, dripping into the sand, no way to stop him…
    "No," she breathed.
    "Miranda?" Seth spoke her name again, concerned.
    "No," she repeated, tears welling in her eyes.
    Clenching her teeth, she rolled backward and leapt from the back of the litter. She felt the drop in her stomach, the weight of her fall jarring as she landed on her feet in the harsh dust of the playa.
    The litter came to an abrupt stop in front of her, the men glancing back in confusion.
    They had hurt her. They had…
    She shook her head, glaring at the litter, at Julie as she appeared from the crowd. Who are you! Who am I?
    Memories, vague and thin as the dry breeze, filtered from some place deep inside her. Pain. Fear. Helplessness.
    She shook her head, a dark and uncontrollable anger flooding through her veins. She'd been taken prisoner. She had been subjected to something terrifying and these people were responsible. The Necromancer was responsible.
    Her own words whispered from the past.
    I came here to stop you.
    "Goddess," one of the bearers of the litter ran toward her, his expression pinched with concern. He reached for her.
    She ducked under his arm, grasping onto his meaty wrist with both hands and twisting it behind his back. He howled in agony and she tripped him from behind, leaning in close as he crashed onto his shoulder in the dust at her feet.
    Miranda stood above him, holding his wrist in a painful lock. She gritted her teeth, breathing hard, a thin sheen of sweat prickling over her skin.
    Balancing her weight, she placed her sandaled foot on the man's neck, forcing his face deeper into the sand.
    "Never touch me," she hissed.
    "Yes, Goddess," he cried. "Forgive me!"
    "Miranda." Seth appeared from the white glare of the desert. He stopped an arm's length away, his gaze never leaving hers. He made no move to interfere.
    "Easy, baby girl," he said, his eyes intent. "You've put on quite a show and now people are watching."
    Miranda glanced at the crowd, seeing alarm in the faces that had gathered around them. People in vibrant costumes stared back at her, their painted faces, horns and glittering wings forming a sickening kaleidoscope in the heat.
    She drew a ragged breath. "He tried to touch me."
    "I saw that. But I think he's learned his lesson and we can let him go now."
    She watched him for a moment, uncertain.
    Seth took a step closer, relaxed as he moved to stand beside her. "May I?" he asked, gently touching her wrist. "That's it, just let go."
    His body was warm and muscular at her side, the faint scent of spiced soap mixing with the salted heat of his skin. An entwined Celtic tattoo wrapped around his toned bicep, shining darkly in the sunlight. His fingers coaxed her hand loose, her captive's wrist slowly dropping from her grasp.
    The