Meanwhile, Erik smiled slowly, savoring Chen's surprise. Erik stilled his breathing and opened his eyes wide. He exhaled a long, slow breath mingled with dragonsmoke. He let the flames of beguiling light in his eyes. He felt Zoe's attention upon him and sensed her guidance in building the flames brighter.
"You have lost," Erik said softly.
Chen inhaled. He eased backward and narrowed his eyes. His pose became defensive, his back hunched and his tail curled around before himself.
"You can't beguile me," he scoffed.
But he didn't look away from Erik's gaze.
Erik coaxed the flames in his eyes to burn higher, to burn brighter, to flare vivid orange. He felt as if he were shooting sparks at his adversary, drawing him into a trap as old as time. He let Zoe guide him, show him what was possible. He believed.
And he beguiled as he had never beguiled before.
"The firestorm is sated. Your opportunity is lost."
"No! It is only a temporary setback. I'll find a way."
"You'll never find a way."
Chen glanced up at that and was snared. He tried to look away, but he failed to do so.
"The brand is flawed," Erik said, dropping his voice to the low monotone necessary for beguiling. He eased closer, coaxing the flames in his eyes to burn more brightly.
"No!" Chen said, but there was desperation in his tone. "No! I have powers beyond your comprehension. There is nothing wrong with the brand."
"No, it is flawed," Erik said soothingly. "Its song has been tainted."
Chen twitched. Chen moaned.
"Tainted," he whispered.
"It must be destroyed," Erik said soothingly.
"No!" Chen argued, though his voice had less vehemence.
"It could be used against you." Erik dropped his voice lower. "Used by an enemy to command you, or your shadow dragons."
Chen's eyes narrowed, the notion so upsetting that he managed to slip from Erik's spell for an instant. "You have no such power," he declared, his tone haughty.
"Do I not? You came to my trap, when there was nothing you could gain. The firestorm is sated. The opportunity is lost. The DreamWalker is made."
"The DreamWalker is made," Chen repeated with reluctance. His gaze fell to the brand.
"The tool is tainted," Erik said with a sad shake of his head. He kept his gaze locked on Chen. "The tool must be destroyed."
"Destroyed," Chen agreed, even shaking his head just as Erik had.
Erik opened his eyes wide and stared directly at Chen. He felt when the flames were blazing in his eyes, felt when he had completely snared the Slayer's attention. He bent his will upon him, coaxing Chen to do as he desired. The wily old Slayer fought back, but Erik felt himself gaining ascendancy over Chen's will.
"It must be destroyed."
"Destroyed."
"So it cannot be used against you."
The idea made Chen twitch. "Against me."
"Or wielded by another."
"Or wielded by another."
"It must be broken."
"It must be broken."
"Sing the song to break it," Erik commanded. He was aware that Eileen was frozen in place, terrified to move lest she jeopardize his spell. He was aware of the Pyr battling shadow dragons around and behind him, of the smell of ash from burning shadow dragons, but he kept his attention focused on his prey.
"Sing!" Erik raised his voice in command.
A ripple passed through Chen's body. Erik feared he would pull out of the spell before it was completed. The women were holding their breath, the children watching, but Erik kept his attention fixed on Chen.
And he beguiled harder.
Erik lowered his voice even more. "You could be trapped with your own tool."
"Trapped," Chen agreed with agitation.
"Another could command the shadow dragons instead of you."
Chen's eyes flashed. "Never!" He reared up. "I am the last of the Dragon Kings and this brand is mine to wield!"
"Then sing!" Erik roared in old-speak.
And Chen sang. He sang a song of destruction and power that was horrible to hear. His voice was resonant and loud, the frame of the building rippling in response to his call. He rose to the height of the ceiling, spread his wings wide, and sang and sang.
The brand made a crackling sound.
Chen sang. Chen hummed and chanted. Chen roared.
He sang until the tiger brand shattered into seven pieces.
Chen screamed in rage when he saw what he had done; then he abruptly shifted shape.
The red salamander darted across the hardwood floor. Erik shifted to human form and leapt forward, intending to capture him. He bent to snatch him up when Chen suddenly shifted shape again. He became an elderly man, surprising Erik for a heartbeat.
It was long enough. Chen pushed Erik aside and ran with remarkable speed. Erik grabbed the old Slayer from behind.
Chen glittered and shifted to the form of a young woman. As astounded as he was, Erik held her tightly.
How many forms could Chen take?
The woman twisted in Erik's grip, becoming a snake that writhed in his grasp. The snake snapped and bit him, sharp fangs sinking into Erik's hand. Erik released Chen in surprise, just as the Slayer became a salamander again.
Chen bolted across the room, then raced ahead of Erik into the kitchen. Erik snatched at the salamander on the counter.
He had his fingers around the Slayer when Chen wiggled, slipped away, and leapt down the drain. Erik clung to the lip of the counter, frustrated by his inability to follow.
Then he swore.
Eileen came to Erik's side and picked up the plug, jamming it into the drain. Erik glanced up as she exhaled shakily. Then she smiled at him. "I thought Pyr couldn't be beguiled?"
"Chen hasn't been true Pyr for a long time."
"But you still did it." She leaned closer and kissed his cheek, and Erik only realized then how quickly his heart was pounding. "Thanks."
"Zoe reminded me," he said quietly, then met his partner's steady gaze. "In old-speak."
Eileen caught her breath, her astonishment echoing his own.
The scent tickled Rafferty's nose. It reminded him of Magnus, tempted him to follow it, prompted his curiosity. He was in the basement of Rox's building, where the Pyr had entered the labyrinth beneath the city, and he knew Chen had heard his taunts.
So, it seemed, had someone else.
Was Magnus alive? Or was his scent a trick of Chen's? Rafferty and Magnus had sworn a blood feud, one which could leave only a single survivor. When the Elixir's source had been destroyed, Rafferty had been sure that he was triumphant.
This scent fed his doubts. Had he left the job half done?
He had to know for certain.
Rafferty composed himself. He thought of Sophie's powers and begged for her help. He touched the ring that was the reminder of her and Nikolas, the ring that changed size to remain always on his left hand, and then he wished. The Wyvern had been able to move between physical spaces on a whim. Could he do the same thing? Rafferty tried, with no immediate result.
Then he tried again.
He felt a breeze in his hair, a blur of movement.
Unexpectedly Rafferty found himself in another cellar. It was empty, except for a slick calendar on the wall and a wooden table. A doorway led to an adjacent room and another opened to darkness. Rafferty could smell water and sewage, as well as herbs. There was also a sweet, heavy perfume lingering in the air, one that reminded him of the woman in the tight jeans. There was a large glass jar on the table and he moved closer with care.
A jade and gold salamander lay in the bottom of the jar. Its breath had formed condensation on the inside of the glass.
Magnus!
But was he dead or alive?
"Our challenge is yet outstanding," Magnus whispered, his old-speak winding into Rafferty's thoughts with surprising clarity. "Just release me, and let's be done with it."
Alive
, then, despite all odds.
"Can you not release yourself?"
"Would I not have done so already if I could?" Magnus demanded.
"Then perhaps you should stay where you are. I need not kill you to see you dead."
"But we exchanged challenge coins!"
And Rafferty knew that Magnus had summoned him because he could not free himself. Was that because he had been so weakened, or because the stopper was reinforced by the will of another?
Rafferty didn't doubt that if that were the case, interfering with Magnus's incarceration would carry a heavy price.
Rafferty was disappointed to realize, though, that he had not moved through space himself--he had been moved by Magnus. Clearly that power was reserved for the Wyvern and those Slayers who had drunk the Elixir.
Perhaps that was the Slayer's plan.
"Surely you cannot be afraid of me in this weakened state?" Magnus taunted.
"Surely you cannot imagine that I will ever trust you again."
"There will be no dignity in this victory."
"I will not be tempted by pride."
Rafferty heard a scuttling on the stone and saw Magnus glance up with trepidation. Rafferty changed swiftly to a salamander and retreated to a chink between the stones. He heard Magnus inhale sharply and wished his old foe hadn't known he could do this feat.
But he had hidden himself just in time. Although it sounded like a small creature in the next room, it was a woman who strode into the room where Rafferty hid.
It was the same woman who had winked at Thorolf. Now, though, she appeared to be in a foul mood. She moved directly toward the jar and gave it a shake. Magnus rolled limply around inside, as if dead.
"You do not fool me," she said, her voice rough.
She murmured to herself as she removed the stopper from the glass. She poured Magnus out onto the table, but he didn't move.
She smiled at the jade salamander, her red lipstick glossy. It was a cold smile and one that did not bode well. She flicked at his body with her lacquered nails. "I knew better than to trust you," she hissed.
Magnus played dead.
"You told them," she whispered. "And my chance was lost. Now you will pay." She made to seize the salamander as if she would crush it with her bare hands.
Magnus lunged at her; then she became a furious dragon as red as rubies. It was Chen! Rafferty was shocked that he could become a woman.
Chen snatched at Magnus, his livid gaze proving he was the more vital of the pair. Magnus shifted to his human form, but Chen followed suit, becoming a young man bent on violence. Two human forms? Chen struck Magnus, punching him hard.
Magnus shifted to a salamander again, diving through the crack in the floor. Chen followed suit, the pair disguising their scents so surely that there remained no sign they had ever been there.
Rafferty tried to follow them without success. He was irritated and annoyed, frightened by the truth of another potent Slayer in the world. Then he heard the summons of his fellows and knew he had to help the Pyr.
The rain poured down, soaking Rox to the skin, as Phelan carried her captive into the night. It occurred to Rox that fighting him was futile and that maybe there was a better way to ensure his destruction.
She knew that Niall would give chase.
She knew that Niall had keen senses and would likely be able to hear whatever she and Phelan said.
She decided it was time that Niall knew without a doubt there was no spark of the divine left in his twin.
"It's about time you saved me," she complained. "Anybody can see that the firestorm should be with you and not with Niall."
No one would believe that except Phelan. At least she might be able to get the truth out of him.
She had pretty much nothing to lose.
"Kismet!" Phelan smiled. "You and I together, just as it was destined to be."
"Exactly," Rox agreed. "About time you solved it."
"Chen promised to give me a firestorm, but he lied." Phelan slowed his flight, preening as he looked down at Rox. His eyes shone with dark intent and his body seemed to be partly decomposed. The old wound on his chest was white and soft, as if it had been infected. He smelled like death and had a cold aura that made Rox shiver.
Rox tried to hide her revulsion.
He landed on a roof and shifted shape. He leaned closer to her in his tight jeans and leather jacket. Funny how he could look so much like Niall and yet do nothing for Rox.
Less than nothing.
"Nothing like a destined mate," he said, reaching one hand to caress her cheek. "Nothing like fate bringing lovers together forever."
"Nothing like it," Rox agreed, and held her ground.
She really hoped she didn't puke.
She saw Niall's silhouette then. He was easing closer, flying with caution as if he meant to sneak up on Phelan. She deliberately kept her attention fixed on Phelan.
She had to keep him talking.
She had to prove to Niall that his brother was a snake.
She knew exactly how to encourage this kind of loser.
Rox swallowed, then raised her hand to Phelan's chest. She traced her fingertip around his neck in a gentle caress. His skin was as cold as ice. "Why did you say Niall killed you, babe? He said it was your father."
Phelan's smile broadened. "Technically, that's true. But I could see Niall's influence in our father's choice. Anyone could." He shook his head, apparently dismayed by his twin's bad character. "He's like that. Deceptive. Charming. Focused on his own goals to the exclusion of all others." Phelan leaned closer. "Selfish."
It sounded to Rox as if Phelan was describing himself. He certainly wasn't describing the Pyr she'd come to know.
And love.
"I'm sorry you were deceived," Phelan whispered, and leaned closer for a kiss.
Rox turned her head so his lips touched her cheek. She saw Niall land silently on the lip of the roof. "What about your mother?"
"She knew us well. She understood the difference between us. I was always her favorite," Phelan bragged. "Our father, though, didn't have a clue, and he was ready to believe Niall's lies."
"Then why was Niall so determined to give you a second chance?"
Phelan shook his head and smiled. "Another lie, and you believed him. You are so trusting." He wound his hand into her hair, urging her closer. Rox pretended to be compliant, trying not to shudder when his breath fanned her cheek. "Don't you see that he said what he had to say to seduce you?"
Niall came closer again.
"He could have just killed you," Rox said.
"But he knew he would lose. I was always the better fighter. Always the one who practiced and had discipline. Niall never studied or worked for anything." Phelan shook his head. "He got by on charm and deceit."
Again, Rox thought Phelan was describing himself.
"So, he was afraid to fight you?" Rox thought it untimely to note that Phelan had sent a shadow dragon to take out his brother.
"And he was right to be afraid, because he knew he'd lose." Phelan smiled. "But now the firestorm is satisfied and our line will continue. I'll raise Niall's son as my own and teach him everything he needs to know."
"Yes," Rox agreed, even as the idea horrified her. "I thought shadow dragons couldn't think for themselves."
Phelan smiled. "Chen gave me ground dragon bone. It woke me up again; it gave me my own thoughts and initiative back." His fingers tightened in her hair. Rox gasped at the pain and saw him smile. "Don't worry, babe. I'll find more. Now you're mine, all mine," he murmured, then bent his head to kiss her.
Rox saw Niall leap and knew she had to get out of the way. His eyes were shining with fury and she knew the fight wouldn't be pretty.
She'd done her part--Niall's doubt was banished.
Rox slapped Phelan hard. She dragged her nails down his face, guessing he wouldn't feel the pain but hoping she surprised him. He snatched at her with a snarl, but Rox pivoted and ran.
She hoped N
iall moved fast, because the lip of the roof wasn't far away.
Quinn, Donovan, and Delaney worked together, cutting through an endless stream of shadow dragons. It was disgusting work and Donovan feared they'd lose heart before it was done. It wasn't easy to fight with his mate and child in his grasp, either, but he was afraid to put Alex and Nick down. He was aware of Sloane and Thorolf battling more shadow dragons in the apartment below, of Erik's descent there, of Niall fighting his brother.
There was no relief coming to help them, so they had to work one talon at a time.
And shadow dragons didn't tire.
Rafferty appeared from the street below. He took out a shadow dragon, his presence giving Donovan the encouragement he needed.
Donovan sang with greater vigor, feeling the elements stir more than they had. The rain turned to ice pellets, slicing between their phantom opponents. The earth heaved and buckled, sending missiles of dirt and concrete into the air.
The shadow dragons fought on, as oblivious to the weapons of the earth as they were to their own injuries.
Donovan feared they might not triumph against such odds.
"Look!" Alex whispered, and Donovan turned to see the Dragon's Tooth warriors descending from the sky in pairs.
It couldn't be any other Pyr, given the discipline of their formation. Their leader came straight to Donovan and Quinn, adding his talons to the fight. His men divided ranks without a word, some heading down to fight shadow dragons in the apartment and others pursuing strays. Within moments, the air was thick with dark ash and the smell of burned shadow dragons.
When the last one had been hacked apart and the Pyr paused to catch their breath, Donovan felt the cool caress of the wind. It frolicked between them, pushing aside the rain clouds, in promise of a better tomorrow.
One without shadow dragons.
Niall's decision was made.
That Rox had helped him see the truth and might pay the price for her bravery was absolutely unacceptable. He slashed at Phelan's tail, his anger giving him strength.
He breathed dragonfire, roasting Phelan's other arm to cinders right on his body. Phelan cried out in protest, pretending to feel pain, but Niall knew better than to believe his deceitful brother.