Mercy Burns

  “Turn around for a moment.”

  Damon’s voice held a low, sexy note that had my insides twisting. My smile grew and I did as he asked. We weren’t yet touching, but I could feel the heat radiating off him.

  “We’re here to watch for our suspects. If we make love, that’s not going to happen. Even Death can’t attend to two things at once.” I paused, then added wryly, “And if you pay more attention to what’s out that window than to me, I’ll be most upset.”

  He chuckled softly and reached into his pocket, drawing out a small wrapped package. “I actually just wanted to give you this. I saw it when I was out buying food.”

  I stared at the package, a lump in my throat and more than a little dumbstruck, then met his gaze. “Why?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Do I need to have a reason?”

  “Yes.”

  He smiled and took my hand, opening my fingers and dropping the little box into it. “You really have had a rough upbringing if you’re suspicious of a simple gift.”

  “You have no idea,” I muttered, turning the package around. It was roughly wrapped, and the Scotch tape was messy, but right then it was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

  “Are you going to open it, or are you simply going to stare at it?”

  I grinned and carefully undid the wrapping. The box inside was hard white cardboard, and looked like something that would hold jewelry. I lifted the lid carefully and discovered a necklace. The delicate gold chain was paired with a brushed gold-and-silver pendant that had a subtle lotus flower embossed on it.

  “The lotus apparently symbolizes renewal, transformation, and new beginnings,” he said softly. “I thought it appropriate given everything that’s happened to you over the last few days.”

  I lifted the necklace out of the box by the chain. The late afternoon light streaming in through the window glinted off the gossamer-fine metal. “It’s gorgeous,” I said, through the growing lump in my throat. This was the first time someone who wasn’t related had bought me something pretty, and that thought hurt so much I wanted to cry. “Thank you.”

  “I thought it was a nice knickknack to start your new collection with.”

  He took the necklace from me and motioned for me to turn around. I lifted my hair as I turned, and he put it on me. I was thankful that my back was to him—he couldn’t see the tears I was blinking furiously away.

  “There,” he said, his fingers lingering against my neck. “Turn around again.”

  I took a deep, somewhat shuddery breath, then faced him again, moving my fingers to the pendant and cupping it gently. “It’s gorgeous,” I repeated. “Thank you.”

  He smiled then leaned forward, holding my cheeks between his hands and kissing me gently. “You’re welcome. I hope it brings you everything you want in life.”

  “Me, too,” I said, and wished it could bring me him. Not just for a moment or two, but a whole lot longer. A lifetime longer.

  But that was a wish a simple good-luck charm was never going to be able to produce.

  I looked beyond him for a moment, trying to get hold of my emotions, and suddenly saw movement on the street below us. A car had pulled up, and a blue-suited man with dark brown hair and hawkish features stepped out.

  “One of our targets just showed up,” I said, partly relieved, and partly irritated, by the interruption.

  He spun around, the amusement and gentleness fading from his face as if it had never been there.

  “That definitely looks like the man currently calling himself Jake.”

  It certainly did. And watching him walk into the club left me in little doubt that it was actually Leon. He had that same leashed-beast amble. “What’s the plan, then?”

  “We hit him straight away, before anyone else gets there.”

  “He’s probably got security in there. If that place is regularly filled with lowlifes, they’re not going to be without twenty-four-hour protection.”

  “Which is why we hit him hard and fast. You think you can cut the power?”

  I gave him a wry grin. “Flicking a master switch isn’t exactly hard.”

  “It is when there are security cameras on every corner.”

  “There’s a minute-long gap between each sweep,” I said, then grinned at his surprised look. “My brother is something of a security expert. He taught me well.”

  “A woman of many talents. I like it.” He glanced at his watch. “Give me ten minutes to get inside, then cut the power. That’ll drag Leon out of his hole and give me an easier chance of jumping him.”

  “Death taking the easy road? That doesn’t seem right.”

  He smiled. “I may do this job, but it doesn’t mean I have to make it harder than necessary.” He glanced at his watch. “It’s five sixteen. At five twenty-six, hit the switch.”

  I checked my watch, then stepped forward and gave him a quick kiss. “You be careful in there. Leon won’t surrender easily.”

  “And I’m trained to deal with far worse than him.” He caught my hand as I went to step away and dragged me back toward him, wrapping his arms around me and pressing me close. “And that was hardly a proper kiss.”

  I raised an eyebrow, a grin teasing on my lips. “And what is that going to do to your ten-minute plan?”

  “It included kissing time,” he murmured, then his lips met mine and there was no more talking, only enjoying.

  Neither of us was breathing very steadily by the time the kiss finished. “We’ll have to continue that later,” he said, and lightly ran a knuckle down my cheek. “Better make that five twenty-nine. The kissing time ran over.”

  My smile bloomed. “Death has no self-control. How sad.”

  “Death has plenty of control. He’s not, for instance, racing you off to the bedroom, as he’d love to do right now.”

  I clucked my tongue and let my gaze travel down his body and settle on his groin. “Is that going to cause problems?”

  “Probably.” He glanced at his watch again. “Make it five thirty. Come through the back door.”

  “Will do.”

  He gaze dropped to my lips, then he muttered something under his breath and walked around me. Two seconds later he was out of the apartment, leaving me with a foolish grin and a happy heart.

  I closed down the netbook and tucked it safely back into my bag, then walked into the bedroom and opened the closet, sorting through the owner’s clothes until I found a jacket with a hood. I pulled my hair into a ponytail, then pulled on the hood and headed out of the apartment.

  Dusk was beginning to filter in, bringing with it glimmers of energy that raced across my skin. I breathed deep, drawing the evening’s fire into my lungs, reveling in the sensation of power flowing into my body. It made me wish for the open skies and wings to fly, but that was yet another wish that was never going to come true.

  The street itself was pretty much deserted, but cars were moving down the main streets blocks away, and the drone of the traffic carried toward me on the breeze.

  I ran across the road and kept to the shadows of the building, listening to the slight buzz of the cameras as they made their sweeps. I kept my head down and my hands in my pockets until I reached the corner. I hesitated underneath one of the cameras, knowing that while I couldn’t be seen by that one, I was still visible to the other two. I knew from our previous scouting missions that the breaker box was at the rear of the premises, while the back door was actually along this side of the building.

  Several cars were parked along the street, but they’d been there most of the afternoon and I didn’t think they belonged to anyone already in the club. The camera was moving toward me again, so I moved on, only glancing up as I passed the door. It still appeared locked, so Damon obviously hadn’t gotten here yet.

  I glanced at my watch. There were still a few minutes to go, so that wasn’t really surprising. But tension rolled through me anyway, and breathing deep didn’t do a lot to relieve it.

  I kept walking, acutely a
ware of the tracking camera and trying to keep an eye out for anyone who might be paying anything more than cursory attention to what I was doing. No one was, but that didn’t help my nerves. Dragons might be born thieves, but it wasn’t something I’d practiced a lot—although my brother had insisted that I learn all the tricks of the trade, just in case journalism crashed and burned.

  The camera began its track back up the street. I looked around the corner, saw that the camera on the far end was also going the other way, then quickly jumped the fence and raced for the electrical box. I glanced at my watch, then took off the cover and toggled the power off.

  The cameras stopped moving. I put the cover back and bolted for the fence, leaping over it then walking back up the street.

  The side door was open. I slipped inside and closed the door behind me, then stood there for several seconds, staring into the darkness and listening for any sound of movement.

  The place was deathly quiet. I couldn’t even hear the ticking of a clock. I called to the fire within, and watched it flare bright across my fingertips, filling the shadows with its warmth. Leon would sense my presence whether or not I used the flames, so I could see no point in walking around in the dark. Still, I tempered the flames to a muted glow and walked forward, following a slightly musty-smelling passageway around to the right. It ended in a set of stairs with a door at the top.

  The metal creaked under my weight and I paused, waiting to see if anyone responded. I couldn’t hear or feel anyone close, but that didn’t mean anything when you had senses as unreliable as mine could sometimes be. I wrapped my fingers around the handle, then doused the flames and slowly opened the door.

  And heard the footsteps.

  I froze, my breath stuttering to a halt. I flared my nostrils, trying to get a hint of who was approaching, but the only scent I could catch was the stench of stale cigarettes and alcohol.

  I stepped into the room and let the door close, my fingers against the wood to prevent it from slamming. The footsteps were stealthy and moving away to the right. Though I was getting no scent, I sensed he was dragon. It wasn’t Damon, so it was either Leon or someone else.

  Someone we hadn’t accounted for.

  I bit my lip, torn between the sensible option of just getting out of there and the need to help Damon when I could. He might be muerte, he might be a killer, but he didn’t know Leon like I did. The man was a bastard, and a devious one at that.

  And even a trained killer could die if he was shot in the back. Leon wouldn’t have any qualms about doing something like that.

  I blew out a soft breath then carefully followed the steps, picking my way through stacks of furniture until I reached another doorway. I peered around carefully and saw the stranger. He was a dark-haired man with a thickset body and arms the size of tree trunks.

  Not someone I wanted to tackle, no matter how well I thought I could protect myself.

  And yet I couldn’t let him sneak up on Damon, either.

  After a moment’s hesitation, I slipped out the doorway and pressed my back to the wall, creeping along after the stranger. The fires burned within me, ready to explode at the slightest provocation. Whether he sensed that, I don’t know, but suddenly he turned around, and I was staring into eyes as flat and as dead as stone.

  I flicked my fingers outwards, releasing my fire. It streamed forward, burning across the air, splitting into several ribbons before swirling around him, encasing him in flames.

  But I didn’t need to do any more than that, because Damon was coming. I could feel him—a presence whose heat burned somewhere deep inside me.

  Then the guard laughed. It was a cruel, harsh sound. He touched the flames with a finger, drawing then into his body, feeding on them.

  “You’ll have to do better than that, love,” he said.

  “She has no need to,” said a familiar voice from the shadows. Damon appeared, chopping with one hand at the guard, who dropped to the floor, his hands grasping at his neck, making a strange gurgling sound in his throat. I realized that his larynx had been crushed, and that I was looking at a dead man.

  My gaze rose and met Damon’s. His eyes were as flat as the stranger’s had been a moment ago, and yet they chilled me far more.

  “Suffocation isn’t a nice way to go, Damon.”

  Something flickered in the dark depths, then he stepped forward. With a quick flick of his hands, he broke the man’s neck, killing him swiftly.

  “Your soft heart is going to get you into trouble one day,” he said, turning around and walking back up the hallway, not bothering to wait for me.

  “I think it already has,” I muttered.

  I kept my gaze on his broad shoulders, determinedly not looking at the guard’s broken body. He might have deserved it, and he probably would have done a whole lot worse to me, but it didn’t alter the fact that he was dead and that I’d played a part.

  Somewhere deep inside, I couldn’t help wishing that neither Rainey nor I had started down this path.

  And yet, if we hadn’t, there was no telling where this would end, or how many more draman and dragons would have to die before the people behind it were satisfied.

  I followed Damon through the next door, into what turned out to be the bar’s main room. The front windows were blacked out, but four skylights allowed the fading sunlight to filter in. It wasn’t enough, leaving a room that was gloomy and reeking of smoke and alcohol. Modern artwork lined the grimy walls, and tables and chairs were scattered haphazardly around. A small dance floor had been squeezed into a far corner, but it was obvious that dancing wasn’t a priority here. The fourth wall was dominated by a long wooden bar, behind which were shelves lined with bottles and glasses.

  Leon was stretched out on the bar, tape over his mouth and his hands tied by wiring that looped around his neck. A trick Damon was fond of, apparently.

  He walked over toward the bar, his footsteps barely audible on the old wooden floor. Mine echoed, filling the silence.

  Damon stopped in front of the man currently calling himself Jake and ripped the tape from his mouth. The swearing began instantly, and even though I’d heard it all before, my eyebrows rose. Leon had certainly become creative when it came to combining expletives.

  I stopped several yards behind Damon, close enough to see what was going on but far enough to stay out of the way.

  “Enough,” Damon said, voice flat and quiet, and yet somehow easily heard over the other man’s expostulations.

  “Do you know who you’re fucking with?” Leon snarled.

  Goose bumps prickled down my spine, and it was all I could do not to step back in fear. But that fear belonged to the past and I would not give in to it now.

  “I know your real name is Leon, and I know you’re dead if you don’t cooperate. Everything else I intend to find out,” Damon said. “And I’d appreciate it if you cut the swearing. We do have a lady present.”

  Leon looked at me, and it left me in no doubt that he not only recognized me, but that he’d kill me given half the chance. “I can’t see a lady, but I can see one fine fucking whore.”

  Damon hit him. Hard.

  Leon spat out some blood and teeth, then said, “What do you want?”

  “Answers,” Damon said, and lightly touched the other man’s shoulder. His fingers began to glow, but it wasn’t caused by internal heat. He was stealing Leon’s.

  Leon swore and began to struggle, the wire around his neck starting to cut into his skin. He didn’t seem to care. Damon pushed down on his hand, pressing the other man’s shoulder into the bar’s surface, forcing him to be still. “Stop, or I’ll break it.”

  “Then keep your thieving hands to yourself, you bastard!”

  “If you behave, and if you answer my questions, you’ll keep your heat. If not—”

  He didn’t finish the threat. He didn’t need to. Neither Leon nor I were in any doubt as to what he meant, although I certainly had doubts as to whether Leon would actually survive this encounter
anyway.

  “What do you want to know?” It was sullenly said, but the fire in Leon’s brown eyes suggested he’d far from given up. Yet the Leon from my past knew when to fight and when to roll over, and his bravado here just didn’t sit right.

  The tension in Damon’s body suggested he thought the same. “Tell me about the draman towns you’ve been destroying.”

  Leon snorted. “Even if I was aware of such a thing happening, what would it matter to you? Draman are nothing more than parasites living off the riches of the cliques.”

  “Draman do all the dirty work,” I cut in. “And we’re responsible for the day-to-day running of the cliques. You need us, even if you won’t admit it.”

  Damon gave me a warning look, then pressed his hand down harder, fingers glowing. This time a hiss of air escaped Leon’s lips. “Do not play games with me, Leon. We know you’re involved. We know Seth and Hannish are also involved. And you will answer our questions or I will ensure a fate far worse than death befalls you.”

  Sweat popped out along Leon’s forehead and his skin began to get a drawn, ashen look. It wasn’t dangerous, not yet, but it was evidence enough that Damon meant what he said.

  “All right, I’ll cooperate.”

  And despite the desperate edge in his words, I could taste the lie. Something was going on here—something we didn’t understand.

  “Then tell me why you’re destroying the draman towns.”

  “We were paid to. The Nevada king wanted the parasites away from his boundaries, and when they refused to move, he acted.”

  It all sounded perfectly reasonable—or as reasonable as dragon culture sometimes got. And yet I didn’t believe him. He might have had his reasons, but they weren’t the ones he was currently quoting.

  “Marcus Valorn would not have ordered such destruction, so quit the lies and give me the truth.”

  Leon’s dark eyes narrowed. “Why would a muerte be worried about what’s happening to a few small draman towns in Nevada?”

  “If it was only draman being destroyed, perhaps I wouldn’t be. But a king’s son was killed in one of the incidents, and that’s a whole different kettle of fish.”