His smile flashed again. "Just the kind of guy I am. Responsible. Thoughtful. Reliable." He leaned closer and Rox tried to keep from bolting. What was wrong with her? "When do you finish work? We could go somewhere and really talk."
Talking was one thing. Leaving with him was another.
Rox pulled her hand away and stepped back, cautious. This afternoon, she hadn't been able to get close enough to Niall Talbot, and now that he'd come to apologize to her, she didn't want to be near him. She didn't want to tell him that she'd been about to leave the shop for the night.
What had changed? Niall hadn't had sunglasses on earlier, in the daytime when there had been at least some prospect of sunshine. Why wear them at night? And although she appreciated that he'd put on a leather jacket in response to her suggestion, it was pretty warm outside.
But then, his skin was frigid. He tugged off the scarf and started to play with it, sliding it through his hands. There was something both hypnotic and menacing about the movement, an impression that was amplified when she realized he was watching her intently.
Smiling just a little.
As if she'd make a good midnight snack.
He was giving her the creeps, something Rox wouldn't have believed possible just hours before. Niall's behavior and attitude was about as different as possible from this afternoon.
"Where's Thorolf?" she asked, hearing suspicion in her tone.
He straightened and his smile broadened. Was his smile calculating? Condescending? She wished again that he'd take off those sunglasses so she could see his eyes. "I thought three would be a crowd, but if you want me to find him, I will." His smile broadened, giving him a predatory air. Rox's heart skipped. "Whatever works for you, babe."
Babe? No one had ever called Rox "babe," and she would have bet her last buck that Niall wouldn't have been the first.
What had changed? Did he have some kind of split personality problem? Either way, Rox was going to listen to her gut.
She wasn't going anywhere with him.
"Too bad I've got to work late," she lied, forcing a smile. "Thanks for the apology. Give my best to Thorolf. I hope the mentoring goes well." She turned to go into the back of the shop again, wanting only to put distance between them. Neo's apprentice could watch the till.
"Oh no," Niall said softly from behind her, the threat in his tone making her shiver again. "You're coming with me."
Rox pivoted to glare at him. "No, I'm not."
He laughed, and it wasn't a friendly laugh. Then his body shimmered blue around the edges in a disconcerting way. Rox didn't wait to see what happened--she turned and ran toward the back of the shop while she could.
She managed only two steps before his arm locked around her waist. His grip was tight and his arm as hard as a rock. He jammed that scarf in her mouth so her scream was muffled, moving so quickly that she knew he'd planned it that way. The threat she'd sensed had been real. He was strong, stronger than she'd imagined, and even though Rox fought hard, her efforts made no difference.
She wasn't nearly as certain that he wouldn't hurt her. That terrified her.
Rox could hear Neo, so close at hand, but Neo didn't miss a word in singing along with the loud music. Besides, she'd told him she was leaving. With the speakers blaring and the other artists chatting or working in the back, no one had a clue what was happening to Rox. Rox panicked as she realized she was on her own.
She fought harder, guessing she was fighting for her life.
It made no difference. Niall lifted her off her feet effortlessly and tossed her over his shoulder. He turned and ran, Rox struggling with all her might. He shifted shape as soon as he was over the threshold of the shop. He was airborne in two steps, soaring toward the sky, Rox captive in his grasp.
To her astonishment, the few people outside the shop didn't seem to even notice him.
Maybe they were hammered, like the people who had seen Thorolf shift shape in that bar, three years before.
Maybe it didn't matter. They weren't going to help her, anyway.
Niall's scales were different from earlier in the afternoon, too. Instead of shining with inner light, looking like faceted gems, they were clouded and dim. The platinum edges didn't gleam and sparkle--they looked more like tarnished silver. He looked more like a dead fish than a piece of jewelry.
And there was a smell about him, a rotten, dead smell, one that made Rox gag. She spit out the scarf and it fell toward the pavement. As she stared at it, shocked that he had flown so high so fast, she saw his sunglasses tumbling toward the pavement, as well.
She looked into his face and her heart stopped cold. His blue eyes had become black, soulless pits. She couldn't even see the difference between the pupil and the iris--they were all black. He saw her surprise and laughed, revealing an impressive array of sharp and yellowed teeth. There was a mark of a tiger on the side of his throat, one that hadn't been there earlier.
He wasn't Niall, after all.
At that realization, Rox screamed.
Niall bolted toward the heat of the firestorm, drawn to the heart of the blaze and following his instincts. He landed on St. Mark's Place and shifted shape, seeking Rox and knowing she was close. There were crowds of people filling the sidewalks, but Niall shoved his way through them, ignoring their protests of his rudeness.
He had to get to Rox before Phelan did.
He should have gone to her sooner.
In fact, he should never have left her.
He'd forgotten the obligation of the firestorm. He owed it to Rox to protect her, to defend her against Slayers and shadow dragons. He'd been so caught up in his own responsibilities that he'd overlooked the possibility of Rox's becoming prey.
It was his past, occurring all over again.
Niall hoped that this time he had the chance to fix his mistake.
He heard Thorolf shouting behind him, but he left that Pyr to work out his own details. He heard a scream and saw a shadowy dragon fly high over the buildings, a woman in his grasp.
Phelan.
Niall leapt into the air, shifting shape on the spot. A group of people gasped and parted, staring at him in shock. Niall didn't look back. If Thorolf wanted some practice with his beguiling skills, he could get it right there and then.
Niall had other things to do. He headed straight for Phelan, slicing through the air like a well-honed knife. Niall had only been so enraged once before in his life, and anger gave him power. He was on Phelan in a heartbeat, snatching at his twin brother's back with his talons extended. His claw dug deep, but there was no blood from the wound.
Rox looked terrified; then her eyes widened as she looked between the two brothers.
"About time you turned up," Phelan said smoothly, pivoting to evade Niall's assault. His tone made Niall wary. "I only just managed to save your mate from Jorge and the Slayers." He flew a short distance, eying the cut on his hip with disgust. "That's some thanks for watching your back."
Niall hesitated for a critical moment. Was Phelan truly on his side? There had been times when they had defended each other's backs, so to speak, times when Phelan had lied for him when they were children.
But that had been before Phelan had chosen the darkness.
"Liar!" Rox shouted, and aimed a kick at Phelan's gut. "He grabbed me when I wouldn't go with him. He pretended he was you."
"What was I supposed to do?" Phelan cried. "The city is full of shadow dragons, and you get a firestorm in the middle of it all. Why can't you believe that I'd defend your mate? Even if I had to deceive her to take her into my custody, we're working together, Niall." Phelan smiled. "Like old times."
"What a crock," Rox said. "You weren't going to protect me."
"Quiet!" Phelan bared his teeth at Rox.
To her credit, she didn't flinch.
In fact, she spat at him, her defiance filling Niall with pride. Phelan sputtered in shock and Niall seized the moment. He snarled at Rox, showing no protective tendencies at all, and Niall didn
't hesitate to defend his mate. He struck Phelan across the face with his tail. Phelan had never fought fair, and Niall wasn't going to fall for his ploys again.
Not when the stakes were so high.
Phelan cried out and fell backward, pretending to be more injured than he had to be. Then he pivoted and raged at Niall, talons extended. He had no fire to breathe, another reminder of his decayed state. Niall breathed fire, even knowing it wouldn't stop his opponent. It was instinctive, as was his directing the dragonfire away from Rox.
The dragonfire startled Phelan, though, and singed his scales on one side. That seemed to enrage him. "There's the thanks I get," Phelan snarled. "I thought we could share. I thought you might show some graciousness to your only brother, to your twin."
"You turned Slayer," Niall retorted. "You chose the darkness."
"I had no real choice." Phelan looked regretful and Niall hesitated. "At least that was what I thought." He stretched out a talon. "Only you can help me, Niall." His voice fell low and Niall was torn. "Help me. Help me come back to the light."
"Liar!" Rox said, and kicked Phelan in the gut.
"Ungrateful bitch." Phelan's eyes flashed and he flung Rox high into the air. Rox screamed and flailed as she fell. Niall made to dive after her. Phelan snatched at Niall's claws, catching him close in the traditional fighting pose.
Niall watched Rox fall and struggled against his brother's grasp on his claws. Niall's heart leapt with fear as he realized how strong Phelan was.
"Once, we were the best of friends," Phelan murmured, and Niall knew it was true. "Once, we looked out for each other. Once, we shared everything." His eyes lit. "Share your mate with me."
"No!"
"Why should you be the only one to have a mate? Why shouldn't we share?" Phelan murmured. Niall saw that his brother had that same strange tiger mark on his neck. What did it mean? "Don't be so selfish. I shared the horse Mother gave to me."
It was true. There had been good times and shared amusements. Could Phelan be healed? Did he really want to be?
Aware that Rox was falling fast, Niall surprised Phelan as he pulled his brother into a tighter embrace, then tore at his twin's tail with his back claws. The threat to his mate awakened something fierce and primal within him. Phelan didn't let go. Niall ripped his twin's cold flesh, intent upon escape.
He had to save Rox.
Phelan bit into Niall's shoulder with savage force. The seconds ticked past with terrifying speed as the two battled, rolling end over end. Phelan didn't bleed, even though his tail was shredded. He didn't even seem to notice the injury, his own teeth digging deeply into Niall's shoulder.
Niall thrashed hard against Phelan's grip, thumping Phelan with his tail and breathing fire. He could feel Rox's anxiety, courtesy of the firestorm. He could feel her racing pulse and his own breath came in terrified gasps, echoing her own. The awareness of her fear fed his own urgency, giving him the power to hit harder.
He tore one of Phelan's claws loose and spit it aside. Phelan fell back in dismay, losing the rhythm of flight for a precious moment. "Why are you hurting me?" he wailed. "Aren't we two halves of a whole?"
And they were. Identical twins. They had been partners and friends, comrades and confidants.
Niall saw the long scar across his brother's belly and recalled a horrible night, one that still fueled his nightmares. The wound had healed white, but puckered unevenly, probably mended by the Dragon's Blood Elixir that had roused Phelan from the grave. By then, he'd been dead more than a century, and the cut flesh, the wound that had been his death knell, would have been rotten and uneven.
There was a lightning flash of opportunity, a chance to rip Phelan wide-open and finish what his father had started, but Niall couldn't do it.
Was there truth in Phelan's words? Had his brother made a mistake in choosing the darkness? Could he be healed, as Delaney had been? Niall was keenly aware of their father's failures in raising his twin sons. He heard Rox's assertion that some people needed a hundred second chances.
His father had allowed for no such reconsideration.
Niall had to make the right choice.
Niall swore, flung his twin aside, and dove after Rox.
He caught her when she was a dozen feet from the roof of a building. He felt her shudder of relief, just as the firestorm flared between them; then he soared upward with her safely in his grasp.
"About time," she muttered.
"You're welcome," Niall replied tightly.
"The sparks are real," Rox breathed as she eyed the firestorm's sizzling flames.
Niall had no time to explain it. The heat of the firestorm seared his skin and surged through his body, giving him new determination to win. Phelan was headed straight for them, every beat of his wings filled with purpose.
"There are two of you," Rox whispered.
"My twin brother, Phelan," he said, calculating Phelan's course. "I'll explain it once we get out of this," he said, passing her to his back talon as Phelan raged closer. "Just hang on." At least his brother couldn't breathe dragonfire. It would be harder for him to injure Rox that way.
Especially as he seemed determined that neither of them enjoy a firestorm alone.
"Deal," Rox said grimly, and gripped his claw tightly. "I'd appreciate not being dropped again."
"I'll do my best."
Niall tried to make a choice without enough information. He thought of his Pyr friend Delaney, forced to consume the Elixir but healed of its effects. Could Phelan be healed? Was there any chance of recovering the brother he had known?
Niall had to be sure. He'd have to ask Sloane, the Apothecary of the Pyr. He had to give Phelan the chance their father had never given him.
Just in case.
But first, Niall had to save Rox.
Without killing Phelan.
This would be a challenge.
The fight didn't proceed as Rox would have expected.
Niall flew away from his twin, deliberately slowing his speed to let his attacker draw near. He flew with leisurely ease, spreading his wings wide. Rox couldn't figure it out. It was as if they were out for a Sunday ride.
And his brother was closing fast. She peered around Niall to watch. Phelan looked pissed off.
Niall continued to fly slowly. He had a cut on his shoulder from Phelan's previous assault and she feared the wound was worse than it looked.
"Are you okay?"
"More or less."
"Then why don't you just kick his ass?" Rox was perfectly good with there being one fewer dragon shape shifter in the world, so long as the delegate of choice was Phelan.
"Shhh," Niall urged softly.
Okay, he had a plan. Rox took another look around and realized he was flying toward a brick chimney. And by spreading his wings so wide, he was probably blocking Phelan's view of that obstacle.
When the chimney was just ahead, Niall sped up. Rox held tightly, sure they were going to run straight into it.
She heard a rumble like a freight train, although it was impossible to hear one here. The vibration seemed to emanate from Niall's chest.
Something happened, though, because both brothers sped up. She peeked over Niall's shoulder again and saw Phelan looming large, his teeth mere yards from Niall's tail. He opened his mouth wide to bite and she bit her own knuckles to keep from screaming a warning.
She felt Niall's muscles go taut. She remembered those keen Pyr senses and knew he was aware of his brother's precise position. She felt his grip tighten on her, took one last glance between chimney and twin, then gasped in shock.
Niall abruptly changed course, mere yards from the chimney, and skyrocketed upward.
Phelan surged after Niall in the same instant, his jaw snatching at air just before he slammed headfirst into the brick. Niall was high above him by then, and Rox cheered.
The force of Phelan's impact was enough to crack the mortar, and the chimney began to sway dangerously. Phelan roared with fury, shook himself, then raced
after them. Niall headed for the stars, spearing through the sky. It was a thrilling ride, but Rox would have preferred not to be pursued.
Especially not by someone so bent on destruction. She looked between the two brothers, her heart pounding.
Rox clutched Niall's shoulder. "You can sense his position, right?"
"Right," Niall said grimly.
Rox shut up, rather than distract him. All the same, Phelan was fast. He spiraled directly toward them, his dark eyes shining with what had to be malice. He stretched his talons toward them and opened his mouth--Rox had a terrifying glimpse straight down his rotten gullet.
Her fingers dug deeply into Niall. Once again, Phelan came closer and closer, close enough that she could smell him and almost feel his anger.
Then Niall folded his wings shut.
He dropped like a stone. Phelan shot past them, swore, then changed course again.
There was no question of Rox's hanging on. They plummeted toward the earth and she fought the urge to scream.
"You're avoiding him," she accused. "Nothing will get solved like this. You've got to take him out."
Niall was adamant. "It's not that simple."
"Can't you just kill him?"
"Shadow dragons have to be decapitated and each piece has to be incinerated, until their ashes are dispersed by the wind," Niall said tersely.
"So, do it."
"No. I have to be sure." He sounded a bit annoyed that she was questioning his tactics, but that didn't frighten Rox.
"Looks as if that's what he's trying to do to you," she said, touching the wound on Niall's shoulder with tentative fingers. Niall flinched, then spread his wings, halting their fall. "Better him than us."
"It's not that simple," Niall said through gritted teeth. "If nothing else, I'll tire him out."
"What's complicated about it? He's trying to kill you." Rox was skeptical. "And he doesn't look tired to me."
She saw Niall's eyes narrow and followed his glance. A familiar moonstone and silver dragon emerged from between the buildings below them, and Rox felt relief that there were two good dragons on the scene.
"Time for Plan B," Niall said.