Flameborn. Corinna Rogers
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Flameborn
Mortals & Myths Book Two
CORINNA ROGERS
A division of HarperCollinsPublishers
HarperImpulse an imprint of
HarperCollinsPublishers
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
First published in Great Britain by HarperImpulse 2016
Copyright © Corinna Rogerts 2016
Cover images © Shutterstock.com
Corinna Rogers asserts the moral right to
be identified as the author of this work
A catalogue record for this book
is available from the British Library
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
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Ebook Edition © August 2016 ISBN: 9780007562213
Version 2016-07-11
Table of Contents
Coming Soon From Corinna Rogers
Fire lances out of the building, propelled not by physics but by the deft hand of a monster with a plan. Drake moves, but he’s too late for the swift arc of flame, for the way it reaches out for him, lashing in a broad arc, the heat searing his lungs even from this distance.
A hand grabs his arm, yanking him back to safety. Right. I have a partner.
That simple thought spurs Drake into action. He leaps forward, unsheathing the sword from his back and charging towards the burning building. It’s fine to be a little reckless, he tells himself, because there’s someone to watch his back.
The Inferna has taken up residence in a shitty motel, operating out of Room 183. Grumbling that it should at least have the decency to be in Room 666, Drake draws back and slams his foot into the door, splintering the wood as he dives to the side to make sure he doesn’t get hit by the blast.
When no blast follows, he blinks for a second. The door is off its hinges; a fierce wind whips sideways, yanking the fire away from him and saving him from the scorching that would have been a bitch to heal. Not only that, but an Inferna’s flames are never just fire. If any one of those had hit him, he’d be feeling a lot more than a horrendous burning sensation, which means the wind is also magical. He turns his head and catches the barest glimpse of a familiar face, tense in concentration.
“Go!”
Drake nods. They both know what it’s like, fighting for time when there isn’t any. The first step inside the motel is confusing, heat at his front, cold wind at his back, but then the hot air buffets him and he has a hell of a lot more to worry about.
Opening his eyes is always harder inside a burning building, and Drake would give almost anything not to know that so well. They water in less than