Born of Fire Read online

  Born of Fire

  Danika Kane

  Blushing Books

  ©2017 by Blackout Books and Danika Kane

  All rights reserved.

  No part of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Published by Blackout Books®,

  a subsidiary of

  ABCD Graphics and Design

  977 Seminole Trail #233

  Charlottesville, VA 22901

  Danika Kane

  Born of Fire

  EBook ISBN: 978-1-61258-326-6

  Cover Art by ABCD Graphics & Design

  This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as Blushing Books' or the author's advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Danika Kane

  Blackout Books

  Chapter 1

  Born of fire. Ending in fire…

  For all that you think you are, you’re wrong. Your life is not what you know it to be. Embrace the inevitable or die. Become… Champion death as you have life and you’ll rule the world, one full of men who have no understanding of honor. This is your destiny.

  Boom! Crack!

  “Shit!” Caldre Parker hissed as he ducked the falling piece of timber. Removing his mask, he sucked in air, claustrophobia strangling his breath. The blaze roared out of control, no matter how many hoses they’d pointed at the wall of fire. Sweat and soot continued to roll down his face, beads dripping into his eyes. He lifted the hose over his shoulder and motioned the firefighters behind him, barely able to see. They had to go deeper into the bowels of the building.

  “Come on!” another fireman screamed, the sound just filtering above the thunderous howl.

  After taking another breath, Caldre donned his mask and adjusted his equipment. Time to press on.

  As the team maneuvered their way over a series of fallen beams, splitting into smaller groups, he finally knew he was in the most effective place and turned on the hose spigot. The full spray of water hit the flaming licks, creating instant steam.

  He sucked in his breath and inched forward, holding the stance. He could hear the calls as others from his engine company swarmed the expansive space. His instinct told him the structure was a total loss. The only saving grace was the building was abandoned, the site positioned in the old warehouse district. Still, the danger was real to the men and women who worked with him. Panting, he pushed forward, determined to contain the burn.

  Several minutes later he stopped the spray briefly, analyzing the remaining fire, then moved to the right. They were finally making real headway. As they continued their path stepping through piles of debris, mostly in place long before the fire started, he was careful to lead the team through and finally out into daylight. When they were in the clear, he jerked up his facemask and turned to face what was left of the already dilapidated brownstone. There was massive destruction not only to this building but the one adjacent as well. “Oh fuck.” The other space was in the process of being renovated. The owners would have to start from ground zero. This was another blow to the already downtrodden area.

  “Could be worse.”

  Eyeing his best friend, the first in Company 10 who’d welcomed him with open arms after his relocation, he shook his head. “How so, Draper?” He had a ringing in his ears, one that seemed to be there almost every day. Fulfill your destiny. Shaking his head, he was damn tired of thinking the words day and night. He had no destiny, at least one he could figure out. But shit, he’d been trying. Somehow, he thought saving lives would end the constant need, nagging at his very soul. There were days he felt like he was living in no man’s land.

  “The fire coulda gotten that snazzy Ferrari over there,” Draper chortled as he pointed across the street. “Now, that would have been a pity.”

  “What in the world is a Ferrari doing down here?” Caldre asked as he narrowed his eyes. “This area is full of abandoned buildings and little else.”

  “Expensive real estate. I heard there’s a rich conglomerate looking at buying up the entire block for some big sports facility. They could sure get this crap down here for a song. Good area. Close to the interstate.”

  “You need to sell real estate. You sound like a freakin’ commercial,” Caldre teased and glanced up and down the street. A sports facility would be a damn good idea. The gyms being used were run down and in need of refurbishing themselves. Still, Cleveland wasn’t the hot mecca for moguls dreaming to own a crime-ridden part of town.

  Draper sniffed and gave him the finger. “Let’s just say I have interest in something other than fighting fires. Besides, it’s a great location and someone with attention to detail could really do something with this area.”

  “Yeah, especially if the buildings keep burning down. Then the big wig has a blank canvas to work off of.” Caldre handed off the hose and jerked off his helmet. He was suspicious of anything that smelled of arson. Abatement of asbestos had been the single reason so many of the all but abandoned structures weren’t being snapped up. The cost was off the charts.

  “Whew, buddy. You’re raring to go today. Save it for later when we go out today scoping for the ladies,” Draper howled as he tugged off his jacket. Shaking out his hair, he grabbed a towel, wiping his face.

  Caldre gave him a look before turning back, admiring the car. He could just make out a person coming out of the building down the street, heading for the smokin’ car, his long dark hair flowing in the wind. For a second his pulse raced as the man turned. “Fuck me.” He could swear the man was studying him. His throat was suddenly dry, his stomach churning.

  Come to me.

  What the hell? Had the stranger spoken to him? Blinking furiously, Caldre sucked in his breath, every inch of his body tingling. Why in the hell was he having this strong of a reaction?

  Soon…

  Soon? Soon for what? Christ. Maybe he was losing his flippin’ mind. He couldn’t help but watch as the man in the suit climbed into the car and could swear he heard the roar of the powerful engine. Maybe it was just wishful thinking, longing for finer things in life.

  “Earth to big he-man fighter. You are coming out tonight, right?”

  “Huh? Coming out where?” Why the car being in the neighborhood bothered him so much he wasn’t certain, but his hackles were raised.

  Draper slapped him on the arm. “With the guys. You know going out and having a little fun since we’re off tomorrow?”

  Turning quickly, the question broke the trance. He trailed behind Draper as he unbuttoned his jacket. “Can’t do it tonight.”

  “And the excuse this go around?”

  “What excuse? I just have stuff to do. You know I’ve been studying lately.” Caldre had to come up with better excuses. The single exam for the class he’d been taking shouldn’t create this much need to study, but he had no idea what else to say. He had no family and no other friends than the guys in the department. Ideas were getting slim.

  “You’re pathetic. If you’re seeing a lovely lady, all you have to do is say so. We are guys. We get it. Fucking comes first if you ask me.” Shaking his head, Draper mumbled under his breath as he tugged off the rest of his protective gear.

  “Drape
r, you’re truly a Neanderthal.”

  Giving him a two-finger salute, he grinned. “I do try.”

  “Uh-huh,” Caldre breathed. He wished he could tell his buddy the truth, but he wasn’t ready for the harsh scrutiny. “Hey, I’m sorry. Next time. Promise.”

  Pointing his finger, Draper growled. “Gonna hold you to it.”

  Caldre watched as his buddy walked off. Why he couldn’t tell his best friend what he was doing he’d never really know. Perhaps he didn’t think any of the guys would understand his desires. In fact, he didn’t want to get into the concept. Still, he wished he could share. He was proud of what he was trying to do, even if he sucked at it.

  An hour later he was in his truck headed for the gym, his duffle bag nestled behind the seat. He loved the games as well as the competition, the harsh tactics blowing his mind. Caldre had figured out a long time ago he was an adrenaline junkie, preferring to ride a precipice of danger just long enough he was left wondering about breathing. In the kink world, he’d be called a pain monger. Chuckling, he pulled into the parking lot and was shocked to see there were very few parking spaces left.

  For a Thursday night, he was impressed with the turn out. Then he remembered there was a top seed fighting tonight. No wonder. Thank God, it wasn’t his fight or he’d get creamed in the first round. He certainly didn’t want to look like a damn idiot right from the get go. The fighter known simply as “Stash” was considered brutal even in the ranks of the most hard-core fighters. Using tactics few could emulate; the man was nothing but a fighting machine. He was also considered to be an asshole out of the ring as well with questionable scruples. He’d heard all the rumors but chose not to care. There were enough stories floating around about gambling on the fights and the use of body enhancing drugs just like with any other sport as of late. Caldre kept to himself for this very reason. He didn’t need any negative shit floating around him, especially not when he was hoping for a promotion sometime in the next five years.

  Caldre found a space at the very back of the lot and pulled in, cutting the engine. Sitting quietly for a few minutes he closed his eyes, mentally preparing. The fight was half psychological conditioning and half physical prowess. Every day he worked on both, his practice routines rigorous. That is when his schedule allowed. Firefighting came first. Saving lives meant everything to him. He jumped out and grabbed his bag, grinning like a kid. Caldre loved this as much as being a firefighter and fighting fires was all he’d talked about since he was about eight.

  However, the sport allowed him to spell his increasing need for violence, a revelation that had surprised him these last few months. There were days the anger hindered his day job, a caustic trait he couldn’t afford to have happen. He’d taken up fighting as a method to rid himself of demons. Demons. There was a word that had only come into his vocabulary recently. Thoughts about his ex-lover had been filtering into his mind too often lately. No amount of pushing the ugly memories aside were doing anything but giving him heartburn and extreme nausea. Jesus, he’d been sick to his stomach lately. And still Michael’s memory and so many odd warnings he’d given Caldre before he’d… Jesus Christ. He couldn’t even think of the words without needing to retch. The night terrors were kicking his ass. Well tonight, he’d kick someone else’s.

  Every day and every night he heard the lingering words about destiny. They’d been said by Michael in words of encouragement and often commanded by his parents as a young boy. All he’d dreamt about since his early boyhood days was the very notion, one that had become elusive. Every hobby and every job had led him to more violence, simply to satiate his dark needs. He knew he’d reached an end road. There were days he felt as if he were going insane.

  He wondered what Michael would think of his latest hobby. Hobby. Yeah right. Prone to barbarity since Michael, fighting in the ring was the only thing that soothed the savage beast. He took long strides, passing several people who were coming either for support or maybe to find out what all the fuss was about. Either way, the energy level would be high, giving every one of the fighters a kick. Hell, he knew he fed off the energy in the room. His record was abysmal but he was working out hard, building muscles. Hopefully he’d get better soon enough or he had a bad feeling he’d be looking for another coach. Caldre waved to the man who flanked what he considered the real fighters on his team and walked to the bank of lockers. Tonight, was going to be brutal and he couldn’t wait.

  “Ground and pound!”

  Caldre heard the screams already coming from the audience and shivered. This was going to be a heated night. Tossing his duffel inside the assigned locker, he grabbed the tape as he studied the men stretching and performing calisthenics surrounding him. He recognized some of the long-term fighters, the ones who had techniques already named after them. What a joy being able to spend more time fighting. As he wrapped his hands with the specialized material, he thought about the first time he’d seen mixed martial arts on television. From that day, he’d been hooked. He thought his black belt in Karate would help. Not a chance. Mixed martial arts as a sport was about so much more. At least he’d taken to kick boxing with ease.

  “You ready for tonight?”

  Hearing David’s gruff voice reminded him tonight wasn’t just about a single fight but the hopes of him moving up in the ranks. The team needed the points. David Reynolds was highly respected and had been a coach for three years, his reputation as a savvy businessman proceeded him. He was none too thrilled Caldre wasn’t moving up in the ranks. “As I’ll ever be.”

  “Not with that kind of attitude. You need to kick some ass tonight. Time to take submission grappling out for a swing,” David snarled as he slapped Caldre on the back and nodded to the other side of the gym. “From what I’ve seen, your opponent is climbing the charts. You can’t let him best you tonight. You got nothing to lose, kid. Nothing.”

  The words were true enough and he watched David scanning the room, his eyes settling on the team’s best fighter. Caldre wasn’t even close. “Been working on the moves.” He studied his opponent. The wiry looks of the man were deceiving. If “The Butler” got you down to the mat, the match was over, period. Maybe Caldre’s problem was he didn’t have the verve yet or a signature move. Then again, he also didn’t have a moniker. He’d work on that this weekend. “You’re right. The fucker is goin’ down.”

  “That’s the spirit,” David said haphazardly as he smiled to the approaching press member. He leaned closer to Caldre and spoke through clenched teeth. “Just whatever you do don’t make me look like a freaking asshole and for God’s sake, don’t get a TKO tonight. The cameras are rolling.”

  He didn’t have a chance to say a thing in retort. Sighing, he watched as David strolled off, preening for the cameras. Granted, the sport hadn’t reached the upper echelon of rankings yet and he was actually glad for that. He hadn’t figured out how to tell his Captain about his extracurricular activities. There were some interesting clauses in his contract with the city as a firefighter and Mixed Martial Arts was riding the gray area big time. Looking away from the cameras, he headed toward the opposite side of the tattered gym. This was no glory sport, that’s for certain.

  Caldre walked toward the fight roster and sighed. By the time his match started, half the people would be home in bed. That of course depended on the number of knockouts. Well, at least he’d get to watch, maybe learn a few moves. Positioning himself where he could see a play by play of the action, he folded his arms and studied.

  First up was a man Caldre knew, but had never fought. Some of his moves were considered too close to the edge, but he was fast and furious and the match was won in two rounds. The kid was definitely up and coming, having only fought professionally for about a month. He had to give the man’s coach some credit.

  “Pound ’em down. Way to go!”

  Hearing the gruff voice, Caldre moved past several fighters in order to see the man more clearly. He only knew Sakima Mato by reputation. Known as a man who could make
or break his players, his methods went beyond savage and several in the field wanted him and his entire team out of the league. As he studied the dark and dangerous looking man, he became intrigued, his curiosity getting the better of him. The American Indian was much better looking in person. His broad shoulders and long legs somehow seemed more powerful given his dark skin and chiseled features. Wow, was the only word he could think of. Trying to act nonchalant, he inched closer. Sakima was sexy in a sensuous way, his looks stunning in an industry that appreciated rough and tumble. Whew. He was shaking all over.

  The closer Caldre moved toward Sakima the more he realized he was turned on, his cock pushing hard against his shorts. Taken aback, he shuddered and brushed a hand through his hair. This was a man’s sport and knowledge that he was a gay fighter would get his ass kicked outside of the ring. He sucked in his breath, yanked back his libido and studied the way Sakima was yelling at the fighter who’d just come off the mat as a winner. Talk about tough love.

  The tactic was interesting to say the least. He’d heard through the rumor mills on the circuit Sakima was just as brutal in his hungers, preferring kink to anything else, but there wasn’t a single man or woman who’d had a personal experience—at least any who were willing to talk about it. Caldre smiled, imagining just what Sakima might desire.

  His interest piqued higher as Stash strutted out from a back room, swinging a towel over his shoulder. Even from where Caldre stood, he could tell the fighter was full of the kind of self-confidence awarded to only the winners. His swagger stated clearly to all those around him ‘don’t fuck with me’. Swallowing hard, he felt honored to be in the same tournament with a man he considered to be a true legend in the sport.