“Finish him,” Jac said. “Suck him dry.”
Marco took and took until he was sure he could take no more. He sensed the black heart of Jorge and tasted the Slayer’s rage. He felt the Slayer trying to turn the direction of the conduit and snapped it with a thrash of his tail. Then he pulled down the rest of the cabinets and books, breathed fire on the wreckage so the flames burned high, and wished himself and Jac out of there.
* * *
Ronnie walked around the solarium with Drake, glad to be in a new environment. It was wonderful to be surrounded by the healthy collection of plants, to feel the sun and to listen to the fountain splashing in the pond. The solarium was beautifully designed, like a little oasis or a corner of paradise. When she tired, they sat together on the rocks beside the pool, their hands entwined. Ronnie watched the goldfish in the depths of the pond then Drake brought her hand to his lips.
She looked up to meet his gaze and smiled at the heat in his eyes. It said something for this man’s effect on her that he could make her feel desirable when she was six month’s pregnant. “Will you tell me about Cassandra? And Theo?”
Drake nodded, tracing a line on her hand with his fingertip. “But first, I will tell you of Cadmus, and of the company that became known as the Dragon’s Tooth Warriors.”
“Your company,” Ronnie guessed. She reached a fingertip to his upper arm, where she’d seen his tattoo of a dragon rampant.
“They were my command,” Drake said. His hand rose to cover hers. “This is the mark of the Dragon Legion, and though there are connections between the two, they are not the same. I must begin at the beginning.”
“With the Dragon’s Tooth Warriors.”
“We were an elite corps, specialists in the elimination of a particular type of evil.”
When he paused, Ronnie dared to guess, remembering her research. “Slayers?”
Drake shook his head. “I am older than that, Veronica. In my time, there were no Slayers. There is, however, good and bad in every kind, as they say, and there was evil in dragon shifters even then. We called them worms or vipers. Instead of defending mankind as one of the treasures of the earth, they turned men’s thoughts to evil and fostered wickedness in their minds and in their intentions.”
“How?”
“With their songs. These were chants, so low that men did not realize they discerned them, and certainly deep enough that the words of the spells they cast were impossible to identify clearly. They feasted upon the malice they created and reveled in the crimes that resulted from their influence.”
Ronnie shivered. “I’m not sure they’re gone from the world.”
He gave her an intent look, but didn’t reassure her. “We hunted vipers and we slaughtered them in their dens. We believed that our mission was of great import, greater import than remaining home with our loved ones.”
“No one can fault such a noble impulse,” Ronnie said.
“But I do fault my failure to realize that each time I left, I might not return.” He shook his head. “I never told Cassandra anything of my fears or my hopes. I told her little of my history. I never told my son that I loved him. I was sure he knew.”
Ronnie stroked a fingertip over his hand, her understanding dawning. “But one day you didn’t come home.”
Drake sat back and took a deep breath, and his body language showed Ronnie that he wasn’t finding it easy to bare his soul. That he was determined to do it made her admire him more. “Let me tell you of the great worm, Cadmus. He was old and powerful even in my time, and his song had led many men to their doom. He is the bond between you and me, for he was the one who fed the wickedness that led to your husband’s death. He was only able to do as much because I—we—failed to kill him, that first time.”
Ronnie glanced up, struck by the bleakness of his tone.
Drake didn’t blink. “Over two thousand years ago.”
“Are Pyr immortal?” she whispered and he shook his head.
“We live long, it is true, although my survival for so many centuries is uncommon. You will hear why.” He reached up and brushed the silver in his short hair. “It is said that we grow to manhood, then age very slowly until our firestorm sparks. Grey in the hair of a Pyr often indicates that he has had a firestorm. There are those who insist that those of us who remain with our mates match our rhythms to those of the lady in question so that we age in harmony from that point forward.”
Aging in harmony. Ronnie liked the sound of that. “But how is it that you lived so long after your first firestorm?”
“Cadmus enchanted us and took us out of time. He cast his spell and he snared us.” Drake shook his head. “He had the power to add his victims to his own great maw. He defeated us, ensorcelled us, and turned us into teeth.”
The Dragon’s Tooth Warriors. Ronnie blinked as the meaning became clear to her.
“We were trapped in that form for centuries, unable to affect our own fate and unaware of the passage of time.” Drake was making a swirl on his own thigh with his fingertip. “The strange thing is that a tale of such an enchanted army survived in human stories, so these modern Pyr guessed what to do with the teeth when they were discovered.”
“Like our kinds need each other.”
Drake spared her a smile. “Indeed. They planted them in the soil, and we sprang forth like the Spartans in the tale humans tell, an army prepared to fight once more. But by the time the spell was broken and we were released, the world had utterly changed. The foes we had fought before were gone.”
“As were Cassandra and Theo,” Ronnie guessed, her chest tight with sympathy when Drake nodded.
“Lost to me forever,” he agreed softly, then frowned. Ronnie stayed silent, guessing that he still grieved their loss.
She hoped that he could love again, and that his heart hadn’t been lost forever with Cassandra. It was odd, because she had believed she would never love again after losing Mark, but she could feel herself losing her heart to Drake.
He leaned down, his voice a low rumble as he continued his tale. “I said that our old foes were all gone when we awakened, but that was not quite true. Cadmus remained alive, spreading his toxin into the world. That viper had dug his way deep into the earth so that even I could not discern his chant. It was when Timmy asked me to find your husband and we followed the scent of Mark that I realized Cadmus was still alive. I gathered my company, we followed the chant, and we did what we always did best. He was old and withered, unprepared for our assault, yet he fought with vigor. He used all the men within earshot to aid his cause, and I lost good men.”
“But you killed him.”
Drake lifted his gaze to hers. “I did.” His voice softened. “It was near his lair that we found Mark.”
Ronnie nodded. The details Drake was confiding in her filled in the gaps she’d wondered about, and they made perfect sense. She was honored that he trusted her with such a detailed account, because the Pyr, from all she’d read, valued their privacy and their secrets.
He really was trying to change his habits, and he was doing it for her. He offered his hand and they stood together, then walked around the garden again. It was as if he could guess her thoughts and desires, or anticipate them.
As if they built an understanding of each other.
“I could not tell the authorities the truth, and so we arranged for his remains to be delivered to the embassy. I knew that you and Timothy had to know his end and that it had been honorable.” Drake took a deep breath. “And that was the first I realized not only the good we could do in the world, but the disservice I had done Cassandra.”
“It wasn’t your fault that you were enchanted!”
“No, but it was my error to never tell her what was in my heart. I loved her, though we never spoke of such things. I admired her valor and her resolve, her laughter and her practicality. I liked that she believed she could conquer any foe, and I believe she would even have confronted Cadmus, given the choice. She was self-reliant and s
trong, and it never occurred to me that she was troubled overmuch by my absence. She was glad of my return, of course, and welcomed me, but I wonder now how much I truly knew of her.”
“I wish I could have met her.”
Drake smiled. “You remind me of her, in a way, but not in others.” He studied her as if she were a marvel, although Ronnie felt she was at less than her best. “You are strong, as well, and fearless when something is of import to you. But you are softer, more ready to confess your needs and your desires. It takes tremendous strength to allow vulnerability to show, and I can only learn from your example.” His voice turned hoarse. “I find myself enchanted again, Veronica, but by a spell I have no desire to escape.”
Ronnie’s heart skipped a beat, and then another. Drake surveyed her, as if fearing she would reject him, then bent slowly to kiss her. Ronnie found herself rising to her toes to meet his embrace, yearning for his touch.
It was a sweet kiss but a potent one as well, a kiss as welcome as any touch could be. Ronnie twined her arms around his neck and Drake lifted her closer, gentleness and power in his touch.
“I would build a future with you, Veronica,” he confessed when they parted. A smile lifted the corner of his mouth. “I have learned much of building a home from Timothy, but I believe we could do better together.”
“I think you’re right,” Veronica confessed, and Drake kissed her. She found her concerns about his intentions melting away and her own desire for a future with him redoubling.
Could Drake be all she desired in a partner?
Could she have the opportunity to see her every dream come true?
She kissed Drake and hoped with all her heart that this virus could be banished and the promise of the firestorm could be theirs.
Chapter Twenty-One
Jac figured she was never going to get used to being hurled through space and slammed down somewhere new. It seemed to be a hazard of hanging out with dragon shifters, or with Marco. Good sense decreed that she should just walk away from him as soon as she had the chance, but Jac guessed that the firestorm wasn’t going to be easily ignored.
Marco, even without a firestorm, had been hard to forget.
This time, she landed with similar force, but against a softer surface. She opened her eyes after the wind had died to find herself in a hotel room, decorated in shades of tasteful beige. The carpeting was thick and plush beneath her hands, and the sky outside the windows was a brilliant clear blue. They could have been anywhere in the world.
Marco was in his human form, cast against the far wall. There was blood on the thigh of his jeans, in the place where Jorge had ripped away a scale. Jac remembered that injuries were consistent between forms for the dragon shifters. That had been in Sigmund’s book. Marco didn’t look burned anymore, although he was dirty from all the fighting. Jac supposed she was a mess, too. Marco’s eyes were open and he was watching her in that sleepy way that made her crazy.
Sigmund’s book was on the floor beside her and looked as if she’d dropped it. It was open, though she couldn’t read the text from where she sat. She didn’t much care about the book, not when Marco was looking at her as if he’d have her for breakfast. The firestorm’s glow lit the room with a golden glow, one that made Jac feel languid and sexy.
“Hi,” she said, and her voice was husky.
Marco smiled and gave a quick wave. He lifted one hand to his mouth and took out the Dracontias. He pushed to his feet, then went into the bathroom, returning with a glass and a small bottle of mouthwash from the supplied toiletries. The Dracontias was in the glass and he poured the mouthwash over it, then set the glass on the vanity.
The mouthwash had been minty green but it turned clear.
Marco either didn’t notice or didn’t care. He ran a hand through his hair and surveyed the room. His eyes narrowed as he glanced out the window, then he went to the desk beside the television. He opened the guest services binder and nodded once.
He glanced over his shoulder. “Know anyone in Virginia?” He named the town where Sam had moved to fight the Seattle virus.
“My sister lives there now. Why?”
Marco indicated the binder, then put it back down. “Welcome to the Holiday Inn.” He put his hands on his hips and surveyed the room. “At 3:42 in the afternoon.”
“That’s an incredible coincidence, that we should end up where Sam is,” Jac said. “Did you plan it that way?”
Marco shook his head just as blue-green light flashed around the perimeter of the room. She saw that Marco was watching it as well, and when it disappeared, their gazes met. She had about a million questions, but decided to start with the most obvious.
“So,” he mused. “I didn’t imagine your effect upon the darkfire.” He fixed her with an intent look. “And now it’s taking direction from you.”
“I didn’t direct anything.”
“Not consciously maybe.”
“Is that how we got here?”
“I didn’t choose this place.” His eyes twinkled unexpectedly. “If I was going to recover in a hotel and possibly seduce you, I’d choose a more upscale place. Maybe with a great view, like that cabin in Australia.” He moved to the window. “We’re in a three-star hotel, at best, in a suburban business park.” Marco’s expression made his view of that clear.
“How can you spontaneously manifest elsewhere? You’re not the Wyvern or a Slayer who’s drunk the Elixir.”
“Darkfire,” he said, as if that single word answered everything, and headed into the washroom. By the time Jac had scrambled to her feet and followed him, Marco had peeled off his jacket and shirt. He was checking out the burns on his own back in the mirror.
Jac inhaled, knowing she’d never been with a guy who looked so good naked. He was all muscle, tanned and toned, perfectly proportioned with broad shoulders and narrow hips. There was just a little bit of dark hair on his chest, and she caught herself ogling his physique instead of his wounds.
“Your skin doesn’t look too bad,” Jac said, refraining from suggesting that he drop his jeans so she could do a thorough survey. “I thought you would have worse burns.”
“I think I did. You were right about the Dracontias.” He gave her a slow smile. “Good thinking.”
Jac felt herself blush. “Thanks.”
“You’re pretty resourceful with this dragon hunting.”
“How so?” Jac was fishing and she didn’t care.
“The flares were a stroke of brilliance. The candle in Jorge’s eye was a good tactical choice, as was milking him for information beforehand. And making me swallow the Dracontias probably saved my life.”
“And mine.”
“Ah, I knew there had to be a reason.” Marco was watching her in the mirror, amusement in his gaze. “Are you just lulling me into complacency so you can finish me off later, when my guard is down?”
Jac frowned. She had a definite sense he was teasing her and couldn’t figure out why. “I said I didn’t plan to kill you.”
“Which isn’t quite the same as saying you won’t kill me.”
Jac folded her arms across her chest and studied him. “You’re in a really good mood for a man talking about his own demise.”
“Am I?”
“You are. What’s changed?”
Marco was rummaging in the basket of toiletries on the vanity. He chose a disposable razor and opened a package of soap, then turned on the tap. “Why shouldn’t I be in a good mood? I just rescued my mate from peril, was healed by her intervention, and thumped a Slayer hard enough that he’ll be down and out for a while.” He winked at her in the mirror. “Plus I’ve enjoying the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity of having a firestorm.” He began to shave as she watched.
“I thought I annoyed you.”
“And you intrigue me.” He wagged the razor at her. “Don’t forget that part.”
Jac knew her eyes were narrowed in suspicion. “Still, you seem pleased with yourself.”
Marco spun and came to
her, looking down at her with undeniable pride. His right cheek was still lathered with soap, but the gleam in his eyes and the proximity of his bare chest ensured that Jac couldn’t find him anything but impossibly sexy.
“You saved my life,” he said softly.
Jac saw where this was going. “Because I had to, in order to save my own life.”
“Is that all?” Marco returned to his shaving, apparently not expecting an answer. “Only a Slayer who had drunk the Elixir or one of two Pyr could have gotten you out of that room.”
Jac sat on the vanity. “Two Pyr?”
“Me or Rafferty. We’re the only ones who can spontaneously manifest elsewhere. For me, it’s a darkfire thing. I’m not sure with Rafferty.”
“Looks like you were my only shot, since I don’t know Rafferty.”
“Sure you do. You shot him at Easter Island.” Marco spoke with such nonchalance that she knew it was important.
“Is that one of the reasons I tick you off?”
“Oh yeah.” He nodded easy acknowledgment, and she saw a familiar glitter in his eyes. “It’s a gift.”
“You know Rafferty then?”
“He would be the only Pyr to whom I owe anything,” Marco said. “He was my guardian and my defender. He’s the grandson of the Pyr who saved my life and hid me from Slayers. He awakened me and it’s entirely possible that he loves me like a son.” Marco met her gaze in the mirror again and his eyes were very dark. “I certainly love him like a father.”
Ouch.
“Sorry,” Jac said, meaning it. “This whole good-dragon-bad-dragon thing is a bit new to me.” Marco didn’t say anything. “What happened to him?”
“He’s in a coma, near death.” Marco’s voice hardened. “And it’s my fault.”
“But I did it.”
“You only had the chance because I underestimated you.”
Again, his tone was a clue to his thoughts. He spoke more softly than she might have expected. “How so?”
“You shouldn’t have been able to shoot the darkfire crystal. Only one other human has ever done it, and she’s a Firedaughter.”