Firestorm Forever

  She gasped at the perfection of the idea and sat straight up in bed, just as golden heat suffused her body. She caught her breath as sparks emanated from her skin and nearly moaned at her need for Marco’s touch. She closed her eyes and swallowed, knowing that he was close, then swung her legs out of bed. She was wearing just a short cotton nightgown and wanted to peel it off, but was glad she didn’t.

  Marco appeared in a flash of blue-green light at the foot of her bed. He smiled at her, giving her an appreciative glance, then held out his hand. The darkfire crystal sat on his palm, the flame so bright inside it that the room was illuminated with its blue-green light. Jac reached for it, then stopped.

  “It has a setting now,” she said, studying the opal and gold salamander that was wrapped around it.

  “It has a passenger,” Marco said. He ran a fingertip over the salamander’s back and Jac saw it shiver a little.

  “It’s alive?”

  “It’s Rafferty. You need the crystal to defend yourself against Slayers, but he needs the power of the darkfire to survive.”

  “You brought me this? As a gift?” Jac was awed that he would do this, especially after she’d injured his friend.

  Marco’s smile widened. “It’s part of my plan to prove myself to you.”

  He offered the two to her and the firestorm flared brilliantly at their closer proximity. The crystal seemed to be snared in an orb of glowing golden light, its distinctive light crackling like a trapped bolt of lightning. There was a vestige of a blue-green shimmer around the scales of the salamander but as Jac watched, it seemed to move from him into the crystal.

  “What’s happening?” she whispered.

  Marco was watching the salamander closely. “The firestorm might be healing him,” he said quietly, his low voice sending a thrill through Jac.

  “We should find out,” she said, hoping she could fix her mistake.

  At his gesture, she took the crystal, cupping her hands together so the crystal and salamander were framed in the bowl of her grasp. Marco folded his hands around hers, making another bowl around hers. He was so close that she could have drowned in his eyes.

  The firestorm burned brilliant orange, then heated to gold. Jac could feel her nipples beading and her desire for Marco burning through her veins. There was a bead of perspiration on her upper lip and another one sliding down her back. She licked her lips, well aware of how avidly Marco watched her. His eyes were glittering as he leaned closer, studied her, then bent to brush his lips across her own.

  Lust fired through Jac’s body and she wanted him more than she ever had before. He kissed her with deliberation, making the embrace last, coaxing her desire from a simmer to a boil.

  Jac closed her eyes against the radiant yellow light of the firestorm and kissed Marco back. Their hands were heating and she could hear the darkfire sizzling in the stone. She could taste Marco’s kiss and smell his skin. She wanted to press herself against him. She wanted to drag him into the shower and have him against the wall, the water flowing over them as they pleasured each other. She wanted to drag him into her bed and claim him as her own.

  Their kiss became frenzied with need, more potent and passionate, and the firestorm blazed white hot between them. Jac heard herself moan and opened her eyes in time to see Marco inhale sharply. Then he broke the kiss, leaving her desperate for more.

  He looked down and smiled.

  Jac followed his gaze and saw that the salamander was watching them. Their hands were golden, burning with heat, but the darkfire crystal was as cool as ice. The salamander lashed its tail, showing more energy than Jac expected.

  “I thought he was hurt,” she whispered.

  “The firestorm heals,” the salamander said with satisfaction. “The firestorm burns away secrets and fears. It banishes injuries and cauterizes wounds.” Rafferty tipped back his head to look into Jac’s eyes. He seemed to be basking in the brilliant white light. “The firestorm saves and I thank you for saving me with yours.”

  Before Jac could reply, the salamander shimmered blue and disappeared.

  She glanced up at Marco to find him grinning with relief. “I should have thought of it sooner,” he said. “I should have known. It’s Rafferty who always lists the benefits of the firestorm. It’s Rafferty who believes most in its promise.”

  “Not you?” Jac couldn’t help but tease.

  Marco laughed. “I do now.” His eyes were shining, and he’d never looked so enticing to Jac. He’d brought her a gift, and they’d used their firestorm for good. His gaze dropped, his appreciation clear as he surveyed her.

  “I have an idea,” she said, because she could see the direction of his thoughts clearly enough.

  “So do I,” he murmured with a smile.

  “We need to use the firestorm for good,” she said hastily, knowing that if Marco kissed her again, she would drag him into the shower and have her way with him. “We need to use it to change the future.”

  “How so?”

  Jac took a deep breath, guessing he might not approve of her plan. “We need to deliberately attract Slayers with it, so you can destroy them. The fewer of them there are, the better the chance that the Pyr will triumph.”

  “And you want dragons to win?”

  “If I’m going to conceive a son, I want him to have a dad.”

  And a future.

  Marco exhaled and scanned the room, as if he couldn’t believe what she’d said. “You think we can resist this for six months?” He was so incredulous that Jac found herself smiling.

  “I don’t know. But the more Slayers we can take out before we succumb, the better your odds of surviving.”

  He smiled at her then, a smile that heated her so that her skin practically sizzled. “Well, that is progress,” he said, his words low and silky. “You now want me to survive.” Jac couldn’t deny that. Marco bent down, his intentions clear, then inhaled sharply and spun away from her. “Looks like your wish is coming true quickly.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He spun to face her, that familiar blue aura shimmering around his body. “I smell Slayer,” he whispered, just before the air rippled and something—or someone—roared in the living room.

  * * *

  Donovan was so restless that the sparks were practically flying off him. Niall knew the Warrior of the Pyr wasn’t happy to have been assigned by Erik to guard them all at Delaney’s farm. He’d made it clear that he felt he was left out of the action, and Niall couldn’t blame him for that. Still, with infant twin boys, Niall was glad to have his family with other Pyr and knew that Sloane couldn’t have everyone at his place, not if he intended to get any work done. It made sense for the Pyr to be in groups, even if the inactivity of waiting chafed at Donovan.

  “You’ll have plenty to do at the final eclipse,” he reminded the other Pyr, whose lips set in a grim line as he paced the floor.

  “You’re looking more like Erik all the time,” Delaney teased. “Maybe you’ll be the next leader of the Pyr.”

  “The one we have is just fine,” Donovan retorted.

  “I could use some help with the milking,” Ginger interjected cheerfully, then hauled on her boots and headed for the barn. Delaney followed her but Donovan continued to pace, his mood clear.

  Alex lifted one of the twins from Rox’s arms and blew him a kiss. “They’re so adorable at this age.”

  “No more,” Donovan advised his mate and she smiled at him.

  “But they never do anything at the same time,” Rox said, then yawned. “Especially sleep.”

  Ahern proved that by giving a mighty yell, increasing the volume of his bellow despite the way that Alex cooed to him. His brother, Ruark, nuzzled Rox’s breast, clearly hoping for a snack.

  “I’d take him but that’s beyond my abilities,” Niall teased and Rox smiled at him.

  “You’re welcome to do the honors of burping him afterward,” she said, and Niall nodded agreement.

  “Deal.” While he wait
ed, Niall reviewed the videos of the dragonfight in Australia for the hundredth time, trying to identify the dragons involved from the footage. The lighting wasn’t very good, with the only light on the scene from the eclipsed moon, but as far as Niall could determine, Thorolf and Brandon had fought two new versions of Boris Vassily and one of the earlier hatchlings had joined the fight. Jorge had seized a hatchling and a Pyr—and the glow of light around that Pyr indicated that he was having his firestorm.

  “Two more,” Donovan said. “That brings us to seven.”

  “But not many survivors, so far,” Niall noted.

  “I have to wonder how many of them there will be in total,” Donovan said and paced the room again.

  It was Marco having his firestorm, unless Niall missed his guess, and he could glimpse the mate in the brilliant light of the firestorm.

  She had to be the one throwing flares at Slayers.

  “Some mate,” Alex said, watching over his shoulder. “She’s kicking Slayer butt.”

  “Works for me,” Rox agreed. “I like her already.”

  “But when the Slayers disappeared, where did they go?” Alex asked.

  Niall was more worried by the soundtrack. Had he really heard Marco ask Jorge for the Elixir just before they disappeared?

  No matter how many times he watched and listened, Niall couldn’t be sure.

  “You’re worried,” Rox noted, as observant as ever, but Niall didn’t reply.

  “Does it sound to you like he’s asking for the Elixir?” Donovan said in old-speak and Niall winced before he met the other Pyr’s gaze. That Donovan thought the same wasn’t reassuring.

  “Old-speak!” Alex and Rox cried together. “No fair.” The Pyr exchanged rueful glances.

  “Maybe Sloane knows,” Niall said.

  “Knows what?” Alex demanded.

  “What aren’t you telling us?” Rox asked.

  “Maybe Sloane is too busy to answer questions,” Donovan noted.

  Alex came to stand right in front of him, her stance determined, as Ahern roared. “Spill it,” she insisted, and Donovan sat down with the two women.

  “It sounds like Marco is asking Jorge for the Elixir, right before they disappear,” he admitted. Alex and Rox were horrified by that and began to ask questions. “The sound isn’t very clear, so we can’t be sure.”

  Niall didn’t want to interrupt whatever was happening at Sloane’s place, but he couldn’t stand the suspense. He’d just decided to call and ask for more details when his phone rang.

  The caller was Sloane. Niall grabbed the phone, held up a hand for quiet, and answered. “Was it Marco’s firestorm?” he demanded by way of greeting. The others watched him intently and he knew Donovan would hear both sides of the conversation. “Did he really ask Jorge for the Elixir? What happened to the Slayers who look like Boris Vassily? Are Brandon and Thorolf okay? Where were their mates?”

  “I don’t have time for this,” Sloane said tersely. “Drake’s mate is here in quarantine, and now Drake is hurt, too.”

  “You’ve got to tell me something!”

  Sloane sighed and updated Niall in a hurry. Even though he spoke quickly, there was a lot to tell and Niall sank to a chair in surprise. He didn’t know Marco very well, and he could see why Erik had his doubts, but it was hard to believe that even the darkfire could be strong enough to convince a reluctant Pyr to turn Slayer. He also couldn’t believe that Marco would hurt Rafferty. He said as much to Sloane.

  “That’s my thinking. Plus the firestorm heals. Even if he had any inclination to change his perspective, the spark of the firestorm should have brought him back to our view.”

  “Just the way it did with Delaney,” Niall agreed.

  “Exactly. Erik’s rattled, though. I wonder whether he knows more than he’s telling us.”

  Donovan frowned and got up to look out the window.

  Niall recalled Erik’s gift of foresight. In his experience, Sloane had a good measure of it, too. “That’s not why you called, though, is it?” he said, remembering the Apothecary’s earlier agitation.

  “No. I need your help.”

  “You said Drake was hurt.”

  “He’s lost a scale and the pain is emanating from that point.”

  Donovan spun to face Niall and their gazes met. The women looked between them. “That’s what happened to Brandon when Chen took his scales and broke them.”

  “Right, but Chen’s dead. I’m wondering whether Jorge learned how to do this from him. Lee is trying to undo it, because I don’t know where to start.”

  “How about Ronnie? Did your antidote work?”

  “It helped, but it didn’t cure her.” That frustration was back in Sloane’s tone. “The thing is that I don’t know enough about human physiology. The antidote should have worked, but it just pushed the virus back to its latent phase.”

  “Is that possible?”

  “I wouldn’t have thought so, but maybe the darkfire is affecting that, too.”

  “Is she going to die?’ Niall asked with concern. Rox’s eyes widened when she overheard his question. The silence that followed was a little bit too long to reassure Niall. Donovan looked, if anything, even more grim than he had.

  Sloane sighed again. “She might if I don’t get help. If it gets worse again, I’m afraid it’ll progress more quickly the second time.”

  “Tell me what I can do.”

  “I need you to dreamwalk to someone.”

  “Deal. Tell me who and I’m on it.”

  Sloane made a growl in his throat. “You should know that Erik doesn’t approve of my plan, but it’s the only way I can see to solve this. I need to ask for help, and that means I need to reveal my nature to someone who doesn’t know what I am.”

  And it was someone who wasn’t Sloane’s mate or could otherwise be expected to keep his secret. Niall frowned. Erik wouldn’t like a deliberate breach of the Covenant, though he could appreciate that Sloane wanted to save Ronnie. “But who is it? Do we know her at all?”

  “I do,” Sloane admitted. “There’s a doctor in the news casts. She’s the one pushing the gurney in the footage of Drake’s rescue of Ronnie.”

  “Dr. Samantha Wilcox. They’ve posted an interview with her about Ronnie…”

  “That’s her,” Sloane said, interrupting Niall with uncharacteristic terseness. “Can you walk her dreams? Will you?”

  Niall understood that Sloane was warning him about Erik’s reaction. “Do you know where she is?”

  “Not exactly. She might still be in Virginia, or she might have gone back to Atlanta by now.”

  “Any idea what or who she dreams about?”

  Sloane made a sound of exasperation. “I’d like to think it was me, but I doubt that.” Niall straightened, wondering just how well Sloane knew Dr. Wilcox. “I’ll guess that she dreams of her dead son. He was the first victim of the Seattle virus.” Donovan blinked, then sat down with care.

  “What?” Alex mouthed, seizing his hand. Donovan shook his head, his eyes glittering as he listened.

  Niall had caught his breath. “What’s she going to do when she finds out you’re a dragon shifter?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t actually care, not if she comes and helps Ronnie.”

  Niall doubted that was true. It sounded as if Sloane cared a lot about the doctor’s reaction.

  Sloane continued with resolve when Niall was silent. “Look, if we can heal Ronnie, and Sam can replicate the antidote and save all the humans Jorge infected, we’d be doing what we were born to do. We’d be defending humans as a treasure of the earth.” His voice hardened. “Even if the price is spilling my secret. That might be the price of the cure.”

  “But Erik doesn’t agree?”

  “You know how he is about the Covenant. I know what I know about being Apothecary, though.” Sloane sounded exhausted. “So, can you do it? Will you do it?”

  “I will. I’ll try.” Niall had to believe that the doctor’s dreams of her son would
be vivid and emotional. “If I could dreamwalk to her, what would I say?”

  “You don’t have to say anything. Just find a way to provoke her memory of Ronnie.”

  “I doubt she’s thinking of anything else. She sounded pretty angry in that interview.” Niall didn’t add that the good doctor was furious with dragons and dragon shifters, much less that she had refused to accept a distinction between Pyr and Slayers when prompted by the interviewer.

  “And show her my tattoo,” Sloane said, as if Niall hadn’t spoken.

  “The caduceus that Rox did?”

  “That’s the one.”

  “But…” Niall started to protest, only to be interrupted by Sloane.

  “Tell Donovan to call Erik. He wants him to find Marco,” he said, then terminated the call without waiting for a response.

  “He really is getting grumpy,” Niall muttered, then spoke to Rox, who was still feeding Ruark. “Do have any pictures of the tattoo you did for Sloane?”

  “Sure. Preliminary drawings, final sketch and pictures of the finished tattoo. I’ve got the full documentation of that one, even on my phone.” Donovan retrieved Rox’s purse, and Alex followed him, rocking Ahern as she demanded to know what he’d learned. Their voices dropped to a murmur. Donovan pulled out his phone to call Erik.

  Rox smiled at Niall over their son’s head. “It’s one of my favorites.”

  “Don’t let my Phoenix hear that,” Niall said, referring to the splendid back piece Rox had done for him.

  Rox’s eyes shone. “Your Phoenix knows she has pride of place in your hoard.” They smiled at each other for a moment, and Niall doubted he was the only one remembering the prophecy of the Phoenix and the Dragon from their firestorm.

  Then Alex returned with Rox’s purse, and Rox scrolled through the images she had saved on her phone. Niall replayed the news. He’d never met the doctor, didn’t know her scent or her location, but this was a matter of life and death. He found the footage of her son being exposed to the virus by Jorge and watched it closely. It didn’t look like the woman holding the boy’s hand was her. He went back to the interview, concentrating on her features and the sound of her voice.