Whisper Kiss

Someone had to do something!

  Rox tried to cry out. She tried to shout a warning. She tried to push through the dancers, but they dispersed to mist in her hands. The scene faded as she thrashed in her sleep, disappearing as if it had never been.

  Rox awakened gasping, the sheets clutched in her fists as her heart pounded. She was in her room, all alone, her heart pounding.

  What had Phelan done to Niall's mother? Rox doubted it was anything good.

  Her own memories supplied an array of horrible possibilities and Rox thought she might be sick. She lay in the darkness and stared at the ceiling, fighting against the shadow of her own past, even as she feared for a woman who must be a century dead.

  That was when Rox realized she had company.

  Sara awakened with a start, her breath caught in her throat. Another verse had spilled into her thoughts, one that came with a charge of insistence. She turned on her flashlight and wrote it down, puzzling over it when she had written it all.

  What did it mean?

  When the Dragon's Tail turns in the sky,

  When the year of tiger rises high,

  The Phoenix and the Dragon mate,

  Desire does their child create.

  But at this junction the old charm,

  Can be performed to make great harm.

  Elements four in union do conjure,

  The chance to invoke the fifth's measure.

  Master the four, command the thoughts

  of all Gaia's populace.

  This time, Sara realized that Quinn was awake and watching her.

  "A dream?" he asked.

  "A prophecy," Sara corrected. "It's the second one. I had one last night, and now this." She pulled out her journal and showed him the first verse, knowing that he would be more likely to catch any references to Pyr lore.

  "I had a dream, as well," Quinn said softly after he scanned her words. "I dreamed of my brother Michel, the one who is still a shadow dragon." His gaze slid to the window, his concern clear. "I dreamed that he came here, that he awaited me in my shop."

  "Wouldn't he have come after you already, if it was his plan?"

  Quinn nodded slowly. "I think it was a warning. Niall must face his shadow dragon brother, just as I must confront mine. We should go to New York, to assist him."

  Sara was confused. "Niall? But why now?"

  Quinn cast her a shimmering look. "I felt the eclipse yesterday and then felt his firestorm. I wasn't going to go. . . ."

  Sara heard the uncertainty in his voice. A Pyr in the midst of his firestorm often needed the services of the Smith to repair his armor, and Quinn was loyal to his fellows. She glanced down at this recent prophecy, her heart in her throat because she knew what Quinn would choose if he read it.

  But he wasn't the only one loyal to the Pyr. Sara silently handed Quinn the second verse and watched his lips tighten.

  "Let's go," he said, moving quickly. She knew he would collect their son, and hastened to pack a few things, the truth about her pregnancy catching in her throat. She didn't want to tell Quinn now, didn't want to interfere with the fulfillment of his duty.

  But she was afraid.

  Quinn halted on the threshold, then strode back to catch her close. "I know," he whispered, smiling when she glanced up at him in surprise. "Your skin is different, softer somehow, when you are pregnant. You sleep more deeply." He ran a strong fingertip down her cheek. "And you seem more precious to me than ever."

  Sara heaved a sigh. "If I'm the Seer, how is it that you know all my secrets?" she complained good-naturedly.

  "Because you are my mate, my wife, and my life," Quinn whispered, a glint of determination in his eyes as he looked down at her. "Never imagine that I will let anyone or anything steal you from me." And he kissed her with the surety that dissolved her fears, each and every time.

  They would go to New York and ensure that Niall's firestorm came out right.

  Alex Madison decided that life was good.

  She was rubbing more suntan lotion on her legs, relaxing on a chaise lounge on the whitest sand beach she'd ever seen. The ocean was a glorious azure and the sky was completely clear. The palm trees were lush and green; the cocktails were cold and came with little paper umbrellas in them. The cabana boys looked good enough to eat, and the all-inclusive resort had excellent day care.

  She'd been working full-out for the past two years, getting her Green Machine into production and into a test market. It had been grueling work, filled with technical challenges and exciting chances to learn. San Francisco was filling with prototypes of the vehicle, more investors were coming on board with every bit of good news, and Alex was finally able to take a vacation.

  Sort of. She and Donovan had taken on a job to contribute more to the quest of the Pyr. The challenge facing the Pyr was to determine how many shadow dragons still existed. Donovan had had the idea that there might be a difference in the soil beneath a fallen Pyr warrior depending on whether his remains had been undisturbed or raised by the Elixir. Alex had managed to identify three trace elements that existed only at the sites where Pyr had been raised by the Elixir.

  Not surprisingly, mercury was among the contenders. The other two trace elements were unusual enough, especially in combination, that their presence made it clear not only that the right site had been identified, but that the shadow dragon had been raised.

  Ginger had supplied a list of approximate death sites of Pyr. Some were hundreds of years old. Some were more recent. Donovan had used his Pyr senses and his affinity with the elements to locate the sites specifically, then taken soil samples for Alex.

  The scheme had worked brilliantly. Ginger supplied locations, and Alex and/or Donovan visited the sites to collect the samples; then Alex tested them and sent the results back to Ginger.

  This site, off an island in the South Pacific, had been the location of a much mythologized battle between Pyr and Slayers several hundred years before. Alex liked that it had proven to be roughly located where old maps were marked Heere be Dragones.

  She also liked that Donovan had found an all-inclusive resort close enough for him to dive the site, and that they had taken their first comparatively normal family vacation. Ever since she and Donovan had become a couple, her brother had been pestering her that both families should vacation together. On this day, Nick was in the hotel day care with his two older cousins, while Alex's brother and his wife had gone on a sightseeing day trip.

  Alex was content with the view on the beach. She dug her toes into the hot sand, adjusted her sunglasses, and watched her partner stride out of the surf in his black wet suit.

  Just like Sean Connery in Thunderball.

  But better. Oh, so much better. Donovan, the Warrior of the Pyr, was tall and lean, muscled in all the right places. A week and a half in the sun had tanned his skin to a rich golden hue, which seemed to make his hair look more russet and unruly. It certainly made his eyes look even more like green glass.

  He glanced around the beach, saw her, and headed straight for her. His teeth flashed white as he smiled, and Alex straightened a little on her chaise lounge.

  Maybe it was time to make Nick a brother.

  Maybe today was the day.

  Donovan unzipped his wet suit as he strode out of the water, tugging it open as he pulled off his mask. He shook out his hair and grinned at Alex like a pirate, then placed his net bag of samples on the side of the chaise lounge.

  "Got the last five, gorgeous," he said with satisfaction.

  "Good job. Want some margarita?"

  To Alex's surprise, Donovan shook his head. "No, thanks." He scanned the sky and she sensed his concern.

  "What's going on?"

  "A firestorm." He frowned and shrugged, then did take a swig of her drink. She could tell he didn't even taste it. "I thought it wasn't important, since it was only a partial eclipse, but there's shit going down."

  Alex felt suddenly chilled. "Whose is it?"

  "Niall's. New York."

&nb
sp; "But he's been fighting the shadow dragons."

  Donovan nodded, his gaze sweeping over the beach. "Will your brother freak out if we leave?"

  "How much shit is going down?" Alex asked, sitting up so abruptly that she knocked over the bottle of suntan lotion.

  "Enough that I'm needed." He met her gaze steadily. "There's turmoil in the earth, a vibration I can feel even from here."

  "What do you think it is?"

  "I'm wondering whether Magnus has been replaced."

  That was a sufficiently frightening prospect to get Alex moving. "We'll just tell Peter that you got called back to work. He bails on vacations all the time for that reason." Donovan helped her gather her towel and accessories. "I can run these tests in the room."

  "I'll get Nick and pack," Donovan said, moving with that resolve Alex knew so well.

  She trusted Donovan's instincts and she knew they were telling him to hurry. The Pyr must have need of the Warrior, and she wasn't ever going to be the reason he arrived too late.

  Ginger looked up when Delaney bolted into the house from the barn. He was moving too quickly for there to be nothing wrong.

  "It's time," he said. "We have to go to New York."

  "Niall's firestorm?" Ginger asked.

  Delaney shuddered involuntarily, then gave her a hot look. "Something's going wrong. Something with the shadow dragons. I feel them stirring. I feel their shadow stretching long."

  "And you've got to help." Ginger knew better than to ask too many questions. "Five minutes to pack Liam and I'll be ready."

  Delaney eyed the sky. "Faster would be better. It'll take hours to get there."

  And he feared he'd be too late. He didn't have to say that out loud for Ginger to understand.

  She took the stairs to Liam's room three at a time.

  Eileen yawned as she and Erik walked across the parking lot of the rest stop and stretched. Erik was carrying Zoe.

  "Halfway there," Eileen said, eying the sky. She touched the lock on the car keys, and the horn of the only Maserati in the lot gave a soft beep.

  "You could have let me drive," Erik said. They were both tired, but he was ready to take a turn.

  Eileen smiled and tossed the keys from one hand to the other, keeping them out of his reach. "I haven't wrecked your car yet."

  "I can't help thinking you mean to get even with me for that ride in England," Erik teased, knowing she'd never take a risk with Zoe in the car.

  "You did terrify me. I should get even," Eileen said. "Tell me more about Gaspar and I'll think about it."

  Erik bent to put the toddler into her car seat. He cast his mind back into the past, trying to envision Gaspar. He couldn't quite grasp the image, which was irritating.

  He felt someone watching him and assumed it was Eileen, but when he glanced up, it was Zoe's solemn gaze that was locked upon him. He was startled when she reached up and touched the middle of his forehead.

  Then he caught his breath as the images spilled into his thoughts. He saw a flurry of falling shadows, like a dark curtain torn to shreds and discarded. Zoe's touch ripped down the barricade in his memory and Erik fell back against the car in surprise.

  They were doing it again.

  Erik and Zoe had had a powerful connection right from the beginning, and Eileen could only watch it grow stronger with every passing day. She saw the baby's left hand land on Erik's forehead, right where his father's rune stone had been used to patch the wound of his missing scale. When in human form, Erik appeared to have a mole right between his brows, the rune stone of his father visible in its full detail only when he was in dragon form.

  Erik stumbled in shock and Eileen moved to his side.

  "Easy!" Eileen said. She supported Zoe's hand and watched Erik carefully. He looked dazed, almost overwhelmed, and she guessed that the baby had somehow compromised the beguiling.

  "Tell me," she said. "In case you forget again."

  "Gaspar's son," Erik murmured. "His name was Salvatore di Fiori."

  "Gaspar used that surname?"

  "Never. It was the mother's name. She was a Venetian noblewoman."

  Venice again. Eileen eyed her daughter, wondering whether it had been Zoe who had infected her research with all those false trails.

  Zoe stared fixedly at Erik, her intensity of focus fit to rival Erik's own.

  Erik frowned. "She defied her family to be with Gaspar. The son was illegitimate, but the human grandfather had adopted him as his grandson. I think she was quite formidable and no one dared to whisper about her indiscretion."

  "Did she marry?"

  "I don't think so."

  "It sounds as if Gaspar might have been a lover who was hard to forget."

  Erik smiled, his gaze fixed on the distance. "Salvatore was raised with every advantage." Erik blinked, frowned, then looked at Eileen in shock. "My father sent me to teach him how to be Pyr, because Gaspar refused to return to Venice and his mate refused to part with their son."

  "Maybe she hoped to tempt Gaspar back."

  Erik shook his head, uncertain. "Maybe. Maybe he was afraid to go, afraid he might willingly surrender his freedom to be with her. Theirs was rumored to have been a passionate union."

  "And Salvatore?"

  "I liked him. He had that easy charm that comes from being raised with wealth, and an ability that I envied to enjoy the moment. I remember the richness of their home. I was dazzled by that place and by him. Salvatore took me everywhere, introduced me to his friends, taught me to speak their dialect of Italian, included me in his jokes. We ate and gambled and danced. It was a remarkable winter, one I never wanted to end."

  "And he got to know you, so he knew best how to beguile you."

  "Yes and no," Erik said, his gaze colliding with Eileen's. "Beguiling was Salvatore's particular passion and he had a remarkable skill. It amused him to make people believe what wasn't true, and he learned everything I could teach him, then did it better. But he didn't beguile me."

  Eileen frowned, not understanding.

  "It was his son who beguiled me." Erik nodded with resolve. "Lorenzo di Fiori, son of Salvatore and the most beautiful courtesan in all of Venice."

  Zoe gurgled then and her hand fell from Erik's brow, her small body showing its limitations. She fought sleep valiantly and tried to reach for him again, but Eileen's maternal instinct won. She tucked her daughter into her car seat and kissed her forehead.

  "That's enough for one night," Eileen said softly, and Zoe's eyes fluttered shut. "One overachiever is plenty in this household, especially one who pushes himself too far to do his duty."

  "Only one overachiever?" Erik teased.

  "Have you smuggled someone into the family while I was at work?" Eileen asked with false innocence. Erik laughed and the pair smiled at each other with affection.

  She offered him the keys. "You drive. I'll make notes of what you told me and dream up some new questions. This beguiling thing has to be important if Zoe's leaping in to help you."

  Erik frowned. "I wonder what ever happened to that son."

  "Lorenzo," Eileen said. It seemed he couldn't remember the names of any of them.

  Erik snapped his fingers. "Lorenzo."

  "I'll bet you already know, and I'll bet it's important." She shook her head. "He's good, that's for sure."

  Erik opened the passenger door for her. "Let's get to New York."

  "Try not to get a speeding ticket," Eileen suggested.

  "I'll just beguile the officer in question," Erik said, starting the car and squealing the tires as he pulled out of the lot. He eased into traffic with that rapid assurance that made Eileen catch her breath.

  "My past is repeating itself," she complained, not looking at the dashboard.

  Erik smiled slightly, so completely focused on his driving that she knew they were safe.

  Erik's beguiling, though, was troublesome. Eileen was going to get to the bottom of that, and quickly. Zoe's concern revealed its importance and Eileen didn't need to be
nudged twice.

  She turned on Erik's laptop and Googled Lorenzo di Fiori. It took a bit of digging, but what she learned by the time they reached Pennsylvania was interesting indeed.

  Phelan was outside Rox's bedroom window.

  He was in human form, standing on the sill, leaning against the brickwork as casually as if he were at a party. He wore the black leather jacket again, and she didn't miss that his one arm appeared to be limp.

  His eyes were as dark as obsidian and his smile was cold. The rain fell in sheets behind him.

  "You think we're different," he said when she started at the sight of him. "You think you can tell us apart."

  Rox sat up and eased away from him, finding her back against the headboard. She knew exactly whom he was talking about, and she didn't imagine that Phelan had come on a goodwill mission. "Maybe I do."

  Phelan shook his head. "Appearances can be deceiving. Deep down inside, twins are the same. We're two halves of a whole, perfect echoes of each other."

  "No. You're a shadow dragon and Niall isn't."

  "Any Pyr can be made into a shadow dragon," Phelan countered. "He just needs to be unlucky enough to die and not be exposed to all four elements in half a solar day." His smile broadened. "It can happen to anybody."

  His implication was clear. Rox didn't want to think about Niall's becoming a monster like his brother.

  Phelan eased closer, spreading his hands across the glass. "So, the difference between my brother and me is just luck. Or the timing of our luck."

  Rox knew he was trying to frighten her but wondered whether she could learn anything important from him.

  "No. The Elixir's source was destroyed," Rox argued. "No one can make any more shadow dragons."

  Phelan's conviction wasn't shaken. "Just because the Elixir is gone doesn't mean there isn't another way. A better way."

  "I don't believe you," Rox said, easing backward.

  "Maybe seeing is believing," Phelan murmured.

  "Why does that sound like a threat?"

  Phelan smiled. "What if Niall dies now? What if he doesn't get exposed to the elements in time? I know a Slayer with the ability to make shadow dragons--Niall and I could be identical again, before the morning."