No matter what it might be.
She was ready for anything Niall had to share.
Of course, Thorolf had to show up right then. Rox could have decked him.
Niall quickly put Rox down and averted his gaze. He seemed to be embarrassed, which didn't make Rox happy. She would never be embarrassed about a kiss that was so passionate and potent, regardless of who saw it.
Especially Thorolf.
Thorolf grinned. "Rafferty always says there's nothing like front row seats to a firestorm."
What was a firestorm?
"Very funny," Niall said, and his voice was thrumming with anger. "Move it--there's stuff to do."
He didn't appear to have the same agenda as Rox.
"Like what?" Thorolf asked.
"I've got to retrieve my backups, then get the hell out of here."
Niall was thinking about work after that kiss? Rox was incredulous, but he turned toward his apartment as if he'd forgotten her. Rox was jangled, her nerves singing, her skin tingling.
Checking backups would not have been the first item of interest on any to-do list she made in that moment.
In fact, she checked out Niall's butt. It was as good as she'd expected, and his jeans were nice and tight across the seat. Baggy jeans, in Rox's opinion, were for men with baggy butts.
Niall didn't have one of those. Every line of his body was taut and trim.
Yum.
Maybe he wasn't so L.L. Bean after all.
"No hurry," Thorolf said, sauntering after Niall.
"Is that right?" Niall demanded, his words low and hot. His eyes were snapping with anger and Rox wondered why.
Niall moved quickly toward his apartment door, the one she'd kicked. He was definitely ignoring her. He put his shoulder to the door and shoved, wincing at the way the door frame had angled. The door was jammed, open only an inch or two. All that could be seen inside was a cloud of swirling dust.
Niall looked upward and Rox followed his gaze, seeing the patches of sky visible through the roof. Then he slammed his shoulder into the door again.
The door creaked and yawned wider as a cell phone rang. Niall didn't wait for Thorolf's help, simply ripping at the door and then kicking it out of its frame. It fell into the apartment, rousing another cloud of dust just as the cell phone rang again.
Rox took a deep breath, certain that the air was full of testosterone. Niall strode into the wreck of what must have been his apartment as he answered his ringing cell phone.
"Talbot," he said tightly, heading straight for a filing cabinet and sorting through his keys with his other hand. He was moving quickly, with purpose, scanning the office for damage as he went. What was the hurry?
She stepped over the threshold, checking out the damaged decor. Niall's was clearly both a work space and home, and she liked the exposed brick on the one wall. The decor had been simple and clean, before it was trashed.
She liked his style--all good.
Niall turned his back on her as he talked, but she sensed he was watching her. "Hey, Brett. I don't know the extent of the damage yet. It just happened. The office is a wreck, though." Niall was shoving broken plaster off a desk, his expression as grim as his tone.
He didn't swear but was so tightly controlled that Rox guessed he was livid. At what? The damage to his apartment and office? It would have ticked her off to have her home trashed by a freak earthquake.
But Rox had a funny feeling it was more than that.
The roof groaned overhead and he cast her a look of disapproval that she had stepped over the threshold. He pointed imperiously to the door. Rox held her ground even though she saw his displeasure. Nobody pitched her out of anyplace she wanted to be.
Niall continued to talk to Brett as he checked the damage. The lights were already out and Rox heard sirens begin to wail in the distance. She'd never heard of an earthquake happening in Manhattan, but she supposed anything was possible.
At least it was over.
Niall unlocked a filing cabinet and removed a laptop with care, blowing off the dust. "I don't know about the airports," he said into the phone, jamming power supplies and CDs into his bag. Why was he packing? Everything seemed stable. The building was a little smashed up, but still standing.
And why was he in a rush?
Rox had a bad feeling.
"The juice is out here, but I don't know yet how extensive the power failure is. Can I call you back? Or you call me?" Niall looked at his watch. "Give me an hour."
"He takes care of his peeps," Thorolf said, his admiration clear. He brushed off one of the office chairs and sprawled in it happily. Thorolf could never just sit on furniture--he overwhelmed it, drooped on it, lounged on it. His casual manner made Rox a bit less concerned.
She perched on the other chair. The pieces didn't match, as if they'd been bought used. Rox approved of that. "What people are those?"
"I told you--Niall runs an eco-travel business. There are tour groups all over the world at any time."
Rox remembered that, and how she'd thought it a lie. No wonder she hadn't paid much attention.
Thorolf nodded approval, his gaze locked on Niall. "I think Brett is the tour leader for the group coming back from Macchu Picchu tomorrow."
The ceiling creaked again and a chunk of wood fell into the middle of the apartment. Rox noticed that Niall caught the laptop against his chest with the same protectiveness he'd shown toward her earlier.
Niall frowned as he listened to Brett, zipping the bag and slinging it over his shoulder. "Yes, if people want me to check on their families, give me phone numbers and e-mail addresses. Thorolf can help us get through the list. Right. I'll get back to you when I find a place to work. Right."
What was wrong with working here?
"Work?" Thorolf frowned. "He can't work during a firestorm." He leaned forward and braced his elbows on his knees, his eyes brightening. "I've got to talk some sense into him."
Rox didn't understand what he was talking about, but to her surprise, Niall had heard Thorolf's soft words. He disconnected, then glared at Thorolf.
"That's not what you've got to do," Niall said angrily.
"What do you mean? We all have to support the firestorm. . . ."
"What you need to do first is use the talents you were born with."
Thorolf looked confused. "I don't think shifting shape is going to solve anything right here and right now."
"That's not everything you can do!" Niall said, his voice rising in frustration. "If you were paying attention, you'd know it's not safe to stay here."
"Huh?" Thorolf straightened.
Niall continued to lecture, his eyes snapping. "You have keen senses, courtesy of your Pyr blood, but you never use them. That's how we almost got killed last night."
What had happened the night before? Rox got to her feet, concerned.
Niall pointed at Thorolf. "If you're not going to pay attention, then we're both dead meat. We've got to watch each other's backs, which means we both need to use our abilities."
"But . . ."
"But nothing. Now or never."
"But Erik said . . ."
"I don't care. Listen to the building!" Niall shouted, as uninterested in Thorolf's excuses as Rox usually was. His voice dropped low enough to make her shiver, and his eyes glittered a vivid blue. "Smell the extent of the damage," he urged, his words low and compelling. "It's your responsibility to defend humans like Rox, not to sit around yapping when there's danger."
Rox looked between the two of them. "What's he talking about?"
Niall pointed at Thorolf, ignoring Rox. "This is how you get surprised by shadow dragons."
What were shadow dragons?
"So, what should I do?" Thorolf was defensive, as he always was when challenged to change his ways.
"Listen," Niall hissed. He looked dangerous, a predator hungry for lunch, and she was glad he was angry with Thorolf and not with her.
All the same, she found his intense manne
r really sexy. It was exactly how passionate she thought a dragon should be.
Instead of passive, like Thorolf.
That explained the power of that kiss.
Thorolf narrowed his eyes and breathed deeply, focusing in an uncharacteristic way. Rox was surprised that Niall had gotten through to Thorolf.
Maybe he was the perfect mentor for him.
"Well?" Niall demanded, his gaze fixed on Thorolf. He was so intent that Rox felt her heartbeat accelerate. She looked between the two of them, willing Thorolf to get the point.
"Hey! There's a gas leak," Thorolf said with awe.
"You bet there is." Niall was grim. "Where?"
"In the basement." Thorolf's expression turned to one of dismay. "It's leaking fast."
"Right where the boiler is, the one with a pilot light."
"I smell the flame!" Thorolf said with pride.
Rox swore softly. Now she understood why Niall wanted them out of there. She headed quickly for the door.
"Listen to the foundation." Niall was intent, his voice a low murmur as he demanded more of Thorolf. "Push your hearing to the limit. You should be able to hear the bones of the building."
Thorolf closed his eyes, frowned, then nodded.
Rox couldn't hear anything but sirens, and they were getting louder. "Come on," she said, plucking at Niall's sleeve. "You can mentor him later."
"There's a broken beam in the basement," Thorolf said.
"Three of them," Niall corrected, and Thorolf nodded slowly as he evidently heard them all. "It's going to fall, within the next fifteen minutes."
Niall then suddenly straightened, his eyes wide.
Rox guessed what that meant. She ran for the door.
Thorolf caught his breath. "One beam's breaking!"
Niall leapt after Rox and grabbed her hand. She gasped at the flash of light from the point of contact. "You'll never make it that way," he muttered. Before she could ask questions, Niall ran for the window that overlooked the street, tugging her behind him.
Rox stumbled, but she tried to keep up even as she hoped he had a plan. Running toward big glass windows three stories above the street wasn't part of any scheme Rox might have concocted.
Thorolf was right behind them, urging Rox forward.
Rox heard a rumble like a freight train; then the two of them jumped in the same moment. Thorolf shifted shape first and kicked out the plate glass, sending it scattering. Niall shifted shape a second later, catching Rox against his amethyst and platinum scaled chest. Her heart barely had time to skip in terror before he leapt through the broken window after Thorolf.
There was a groan behind them as the building shifted, then an explosion that sent the pair of dragons flying higher on the plumes of smoke.
Rox saw the emergency crews in the street below, the crowds held back and all of them staring upward in astonishment at the two dragons. She also saw the massive crevasse in the pavement, which seemed to open to its widest point right before the building.
The building held for an instant, then crumpled and fell like a house of cards. Plaster and wood and stone cascaded toward the earth and the emergency crews shouted at onlookers to stand back.
Rox hung on to Niall, even more appreciative of his abilities in this particular moment. She heard the steady beat of his leathery wings and felt his strength beneath her hands. The wind was in her face and her heart was pounding with relief. She also felt that strange warmth and could see sparks dancing between herself and Niall.
It couldn't be the wiring now that the building was trashed. What was going on?
Even in dragon form, Niall looked grim and uncommunicative, and she guessed he wouldn't explain things to her.
At least not by choice.
Rox, however, was used to being persistent.
The pavement rumbled far beneath them and the crack gaped even wider. Rox thought she could see straight into the heart of the earth--there were a lot of pipes beneath the street, some of which broke from the strain. Was it possible to see the subway tunnels? She heard water gushing and the hiss of what might have been gas.
Policemen shouted to the people in the street, trying to keep them from danger, and dust rose on all sides, engulfing the trio in a dark cloud. Rox closed her eyes against the debris and turned her face against Niall's chest.
They were flying over the buildings and it was every bit as wonderful as Rox had always imagined. She said a little prayer of gratitude, knowing that Niall was the reason she'd survived.
He'd protected her again, and for the moment, she didn't care whether it was due to her identity, her gender, or her species.
In fact, she had a really good idea of how to celebrate.
Chapter 3
Niall was livid.
Never mind that there had been an earthquake in Manhattan. Never mind that Niall's building had been the only one destroyed. Never mind that he felt targeted and wasn't sure by whom. Never mind that he was exhausted. Never mind that he was faced with the dangerous distraction of a firestorm at the worst possible moment, or that he seemed doomed to repeat his father's mistakes.
Rox hadn't had any problems witnessing Niall's shift to dragon form. Rox had watched the change--watched him change--with no ill effects. That fact was indisputable--but it challenged a basic understanding Niall had about humans in general and mates in particular.
There was a conviction among the Pyr that humans couldn't observe the change of man to dragon without going insane. Independent of the Pyr's anecdotal data, Niall knew his own mother had been traumatized by the sight of his father's change on their wedding night. It had taken them years to reconcile. Niall had been prepared to explain the truth early to his own mate when his firestorm came, to avoid making that particular mistake of his father.
He hadn't had a chance.
And it hadn't mattered.
As they flew away from the damage, the firestorm simmering and Rox safely in his grasp, Niall suddenly understood. Rox had been able to see his change because she had already known there were Pyr in the world. There'd been no surprise. That was presumably because she knew Thorolf.
But that could only be the case if she had seen Thorolf shift.
Had Thorolf been so careless as to let humans routinely witness his change? The Pyr were charged to protect the treasures of the earth, and they counted humans among those treasures. Had Thorolf deliberately--carelessly--risked the mental health of humans?
And that of the woman who was Niall's destined mate?
Thorolf evidently hadn't bothered to beguile Rox afterward, either. That was breathtakingly irresponsible, but perfectly characteristic of Thorolf, who didn't know how to use the bulk of his skill set and didn't seem to care.
The very prospect outraged Niall, especially as it was so plausible and especially as he was a talon shard away from thrashing Thorolf, anyway.
It was time to set his apprentice straight again. Such routine disregard could risk the safety of the Pyr, as well as that of the humans they were pledged to protect. If Thorolf needed such basic facts explained to him, Niall was just the Pyr for the job.
He didn't care whether Rox overheard him or not.
Niall spun to confront Thorolf, and the larger Pyr nearly collided with him in midair.
"Rox knew," Niall accused in old-speak as he hovered with his mate in his grasp.
Thorolf immediately looked chagrined, which Niall didn't take as a good sign.
"What's going on?" Rox demanded. "It sounds like trains, but we're nowhere near the tracks."
"How much does she know?" Niall demanded of Thorolf. "How much did she see? Why didn't you beguile her?"
"She saw," the big Pyr admitted, his old-speak slow for lack of experience.
"How much? When? What?" Now that Niall was letting his temper loose, he couldn't seem to stop it. This outburst was about as different from his father's total composure as possible, but Niall wasn't happy to be different from his father in this. He shouted in old-speak.
"How could you not take responsibility for what she witnessed?"
Thorolf exhaled a puff of smoke, glanced down at the city far below them, and grimaced. "I gotta tell you this out loud," he muttered. "It's too complicated."
"What does he mean 'out loud'?" Rox asked. "What's going on?"
Niall was going to have answers himself before he provided any to Rox. "There," he said to Thorolf, pointing to an empty alleyway, one several blocks away from his destroyed home. He glared at the other Pyr, who was looking as cooperative as a rebellious teenager. "And don't make me wait for you."
"It's too narrow a space for landing," Thorolf complained.
"Solve it," Niall retorted in old-speak, ignoring Thorolf's grumble of complaint.
It was time to see some progress.
If Thorolf wasn't going to pull his weight, Niall wasn't going to mentor him. Erik could do it, if he thought it so critical.
Niall dove toward his destination of choice, his blood boiling. He had ten thousand things to do--tour coordinators to contact, customers to reassure, databases to cross-check, shadow dragons to destroy--and the last two things he needed were a reluctant student and an inconvenient firestorm.
This clearly wasn't the right time for his firestorm--someone somewhere had messed it up. The last thing Niall needed was a son and a mate when he already had so many duties. He wanted to have a firestorm, wanted to make the most of his destined partnership, and meant to do better than his father had done.
He just couldn't do it, not in this moment. It was too dangerous to add another distraction to his list of responsibilities. Plus one look at Rox proved that they had nothing in common, that after the spark of the firestorm was extinguished, there'd be nothing left to keep them together.
Niall was not going to conceive a child and leave him without a father. His own father had made that mistake, Niall had seen the result, and he wasn't going to repeat the error.
Even if that meant sacrificing the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity of a firestorm.
Rox opened her eyes just as Niall descended into an alleyway. He landed on his feet, instantly back in human form. She respected his grace in making the descent between the buildings, the way he folded his wings and navigated to a safe landing.