Darkfire Kiss

  “Unless he kills me first.”

  “But that’s murder. You’ll go to jail!”

  Rafferty smiled. “And what jail would hold me?”

  She frowned, her gaze dancing over him, then pivoted and started to walk quickly in the direction she’d already chosen. They cleared the trees, and there was only frozen ground between them and a busy street. “What about my house?” she asked. “You couldn’t leave it. I saw you try.”

  Rafferty hesitated. He was telling her far more than he had intended, but he sensed they might somehow become allies in this. It was his firestorm. There had to be at least a chance of their making a permanent relationship.

  He wouldn’t be that skeptical of the Great Wyvern’s intent.

  He wouldn’t even consider that darkfire could change that much.

  He dared to hope.

  Rafferty spoke with care. “Your house had been surrounded by dragonsmoke, breathed by Magnus and his minion.”

  “Dragonsmoke?”

  “It’s a boundary mark, one that traditionally could be crossed only by the one who breathed it and/or any other Pyr explicitly granted permission to do so. We’ve used it to protect hoards and treasures for millennia. Humans cannot see it and are not affected by its presence. Particularly sensitive humans may feel a slight chill in stepping through it, but that’s it.”

  “Traditionally?” she echoed, glancing at him again. “What’s changed?”

  He didn’t tell her that everything had changed; that the darkfire between them was foretold to completely turn the world of the Pyr upside down. That could wait. “Magnus and his fellows can cut dragonsmoke and move through it, even without permission. It offers no obstacle to them.”

  “So, you couldn’t even keep him in jail with dragonsmoke.”

  “No.” Why was she interested in Magnus going to jail? She trudged onward, and Rafferty thought about what she’d said. “Is this your goal, then? To see Magnus in jail?”

  Her eyes were filled with conviction. “I want to see justice prevail. I want to see him punished for what he’s done.”

  “And what are his crimes?”

  “Don’t you know?” She turned to face him on the sidewalk, a steady stream of cars moving past them on the roadway. There was a cluster of shops about two blocks away, but they were the only pedestrians. “I mean, you must have a reason to have a blood feud with him. Or do you dragon men do that all the time?”

  “Pyr,” Rafferty supplied. “We call ourselves the Pyr.”

  “Why?”

  “That’s ancient Greek for fire.”

  She surveyed him, clearly thinking about his words. “Because you can breathe fire?”

  Rafferty nodded. “But we don’t have blood feuds all the time. Or at least, I don’t.”

  “What did he do to you?”

  That list was long and complicated. “I’d like to hear your list first,” Rafferty said, then smiled. “It’s probably shorter.”

  “You’re right. It is.” She tipped her head back and held his gaze, as if she would dare him to believe her. “He killed a friend of mine. So far, he’s gotten away with it, but she wasn’t the first and she won’t be the last. I want to ensure that he’s caught.”

  “And the book?”

  “She said it was a record of his arms deals, of his appointments, of his contacts.” Melissa grimaced. “She said it would condemn him, and she gave me the security codes to go get it.”

  “Why didn’t she get it?”

  “She tried. She wrote to me in advance, as insurance. She said I’d hear from her before the letter came, if she succeeded.” Melissa’s eyes were filled with a conviction Rafferty respected. “I never did.”

  He voiced the possibility that she had been deceived. “She could have run away instead.”

  Melissa shook her head, a shadow claiming her features. “I found her at the morgue, yesterday.” She swallowed and blinked back tears; then her expression closed. “A Jane Doe.” Her words were tight, her composure tenuous. She had cared about this woman. “Burned to death.”

  Rafferty grimaced and walked beside her, wishing she hadn’t seen that. No one should see such a sight.

  No one should suffer such a fate.

  Her voice dropped, filling with passion, and her words almost perfectly echoed his own thoughts. “That’s not nearly good enough, not for anyone.”

  “How did you know her?”

  She smiled a little then, kicking the ground as she walked. “She was a street kid in Baghdad. Pretty but living in a tough world. Inquisitive and stubborn. She found things out. She was more reliable than most.”

  “But not entirely so.”

  Melissa shrugged. “No one would have believed her story, even if it was true.”

  “But how’d she get here?”

  She sighed. “I think she was Montmorency’s mistress. I couldn’t believe it when I saw her here, all turned out in Dolce and Gabbana.” She met his gaze. “Daphne was pretty, she was cunning and self-motivated, but she wasn’t all bad. And no one but no one deserves to die like that.”

  Rafferty was struck by her passion, and found himself responding to it. “So, you broke into his house.”

  She heaved a shaking breath. “So, I tried to make my own luck. I tried to get the evidence that would see Daphne avenged.”

  “Which might get you a job again.”

  “Yes. Although it wasn’t all about the job.” She looked at him. “The thing is, that’s what reporters do. We ferret out the truth and tell it to the world. I used to be good at that.”

  Rafferty suspected she was still good at it. “And that’s important?”

  She sighed. “It’s the only legacy that counts, isn’t it? Truth and justice are the things that stand the test of time, that make the world a better place. I want to be a part of that solution.”

  “There are other ways.”

  “This is the one I’m good at.” She spoke with fervor, with such conviction that Rafferty knew she was right.

  He’d have to watch those old broadcasts again. They must be archived somewhere. He wanted very much to see her in action.

  “I still have the book,” he admitted softly.

  She looked at him, her eyes alight. “I’m guessing you won’t just give it to me.”

  Rafferty shook his head. “I still need the blog pictures to disappear.”

  She winced. “I still want that job.”

  They eyed each other, still on opposite sides.

  Rafferty had a feeling, though, that they could find a mutually beneficial solution. “Maybe there’s another way to get it, a way that doesn’t involve betraying me and my kind.” He arched a brow. “Maybe you need to make a gesture of good faith.”

  She laughed again, a sound all the more enchanting for being unexpected. “Is that supposed to be the proverbial offer I can’t refuse?”

  Rafferty found himself smiling in turn. “Maybe.” Her expression warmed as she surveyed him.

  “You should smile more,” she said, her words falling breathless.

  Rafferty took a step closer but never managed to raise his hand to her cheek.

  “What madness is this?” Erik roared, his old-speak echoing so loud in Rafferty’s mind that Rafferty staggered.

  “What’s the matter?” Melissa asked, her concern clear as Rafferty turned away.

  “What has happened?” he asked Erik, barely daring to guess.

  His cell phone rang, and he suspected it was more bad news. With some trepidation, Rafferty answered it. He was right—Erik had sent him a hot link.

  To a YouTube video.

  Which he wouldn’t have believed if he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes. Now what?

  No matter how bad it was, there was nothing to be gained by avoiding the truth. Rafferty played the video, Melissa watching him so avidly that he found his face heating.

  “What is it?” she asked. “Something really bad?”

  He couldn’t see any harm in her kno
wing the truth. He gave her the phone, and she replayed the video. He watched her disappointment dawn; then she handed him back the phone.

  “So much for my job,” she said, unable to completely keep the despondency from her voice.

  It wasn’t the reaction he’d expected. “Why do you say that?”

  There was no joy in her half smile. “There is no second place in my business. There are winners and there are losers. First in wins, every time, and all other deals are moot.”

  “So, you were beaten to the story.” Rafferty watched her with care, seeing her put her disappointment away, square her shoulders, and look forward again. She was resilient, his mate—impressively so. There was even an optimistic glint in her eye when she met his gaze again.

  “Pretty much,” she acknowledged, her tone already less rueful. “But it’s not as if I had an exclusive negotiated with you Pyr, is it?”

  “If it’s meant to be, you’ll find another way to get that job,” Rafferty said. He wanted to console her but wasn’t sure how to do it.

  She forced a smile. “Maybe.” She turned her bright gaze on him so suddenly that he knew she’d thought of something. “But wait a minute. You winced before the phone rang. What happened there?” She glanced around. “It sounded like thunder, or a freight train, but that can’t have been what it was.”

  “Old-speak,” Rafferty acknowledged, watching the video of Thorolf again, confirming that it was as bad as he’d feared. “We can communicate with one another at lower frequencies than humans can clearly understand.”

  “Someone yelled at you?”

  “Not just someone. The leader of our kind.”

  “Ticked off the boss, huh?” She smiled, and he had a strange sense of camaraderie with her. “I do it all the time.”

  Rafferty fumbled with his phone, awkward with his growing admiration of his mate. “You probably recognized the guy in the video.”

  “That was your friend. The one who wanted to empty my fridge. Nice silvery color in his dragon form.” She watched Rafferty, and he guessed that she saw his chagrin. “You left him behind.”

  “He’s not as adept with his abilities as would be ideal.”

  Melissa smiled. “Yes, he looked a bit overwhelmed. He did bail, though.”

  Rafferty shook his head. “But he shouldn’t have left without beguiling those who had seen him.” He sighed. “And I should have been with him, to ensure that he didn’t make such a mistake. I should not have lost my temper.” He met her gaze steadily. “I have failed my fellows.”

  There was no condemnation in her eyes. “Because you chose to save me instead.”

  There was no arguing with that. “You are my destined mate and thus my responsibility.”

  “Mate?” she repeated, biting off the word. “That’s a bit presumptuous, don’t you think? I mean, last night was one thing, but starting a family is quite another. Unless that’s not what you mean.”

  “It is what I mean. But what’s more important is that defending you is my responsibility….”

  “Sex isn’t destined,” Melissa argued. “I don’t believe in fate, and I’m not sure I believe in happily ever after….”

  “That’s fine.” Rafferty knew he’d already told her too much and feared he’d only alienate her with more explanation. He tried to prioritize the challenges before him, but she was waiting, hands on her hips. “It’s not entirely about family,” he admitted.

  “But partly so?”

  Rafferty sighed and nodded.

  “You don’t think you should have mentioned that last night?”

  “The firestorm hadn’t ignited yet. It wasn’t an issue.”

  “What was?”

  “You.” Rafferty looked straight into her eyes, unable to deny the power of his desire. “I could think only of you,” he added softly.

  She swallowed but didn’t look away. “I wasn’t thinking about much other than you, either.” Time stood still as the heat built between them, the air seeming to sizzle in the small gap that separated them.

  Melissa reached out a hand, fearless and confident, and Rafferty’s desire burned even hotter. The blue flames cavorted between her fingertips and his chest, licking and flicking against his clothes and driving him to distraction. “Is the firestorm what these flames are about?”

  Rafferty swallowed. He was so hard and thick and ready that he could only nod.

  Melissa pulled her hand back abruptly, then clicked her tongue. Her eyes sparkled, and he recognized that she was going to make a joke to lighten the moment. “So, you abandoned a rookie in the hot zone, and your boss is ticked.”

  “That’s an understatement. We are supposed to remain unseen, to work for the good of humanity and the planet while mankind remains ignorant of our presence.” Rafferty frowned, well aware of the magnitude of his error. He had summoned an earthquake, without regard for the consequences. Had any humans been injured?

  How could he have forgotten his responsibilities?

  How much more would the darkfire make him forget?

  Rafferty fought his rising tide of fear. He had to satisfy this firestorm and soon.

  “Big mistake, then,” she said lightly, arching a brow. “And I’ve blown my chance for a job. Looks like we’re both in a corner.”

  Rafferty nodded, wondering where she’d go with this. He knew where he wanted to go—back to his hotel room to sate the firestorm. Darkfire was causing chaos, just as foretold, and the only way to stop it was for him to impregnate Melissa. He had to change the order of his priorities, assigning Magnus second place.

  Maybe third.

  Rafferty didn’t need a lot of imagination to guess what this forthright and independent woman would think of such a plan.

  Oblivious to his worries, Melissa squared her shoulders. “Look. I want Montmorency to go down, more than anything in the world, even more than I wanted that job. So, we might as well work together.”

  “How so?”

  “I’ll help you however I can to bring down Montmorency, even if it comes to killing him. And I won’t tattle to the police.”

  “And you will do as I bid you to do, for your own safety.”

  She smiled then, her amusement taking him off guard. “Is it smart for a damsel in distress to trust a dragon dude who calls her his mate?” Before he could reply, she answered her own question. “Maybe it’s smart to make allies, even in unexpected places.” She stuck out her right hand. “Deal, Powell.”

  As soon as his hand closed over hers, Rafferty knew that a handshake wasn’t going to be enough to seal their bargain. The sizzling flames turned his thoughts in other directions, feeding more earthy impulses and reminding him of his mate’s allure. Was it possible the Great Wyvern had not chosen wrongly for him? Rafferty desperately wanted to believe it.

  Either way, he had to answer the call of the flames. He wanted to try to make his firestorm work, even if the odds were long.

  Maybe because the odds were long.

  Rafferty closed the last step between them, watched Melissa’s eyes widen, and smiled at her as his fingers wrapped more tightly around her hand. He knew the instant their thoughts were as one. It was clear in the way she glanced at his lips, the gleam that lit her eyes, the blush that touched her cheeks. It was in her sharp intake of breath, the leap of her pulse, the increase in adrenaline. It was in the way his body matched its rhythms to hers.

  She stepped closer, fearless—or maybe refusing to let him see her sweat—and put her other hand on his shoulder.

  “Doesn’t hurt one bit that you’re irresistible,” she murmured. “I like that in a partner.” Then she stretched up and touched her lips to his.

  Rafferty might have agreed, but their kiss was rudely interrupted.

  A jade salamander spontaneously manifested between them. Rafferty felt it against his chest, then recoiled in horror from its slithering form.

  “So, it was Daphne!” Magnus bellowed, his anger more than clear.

  Melissa gasped as the
salamander slid down Rafferty’s chest.

  He yelled when it bit him, hard, in the chest.

  Then Rafferty, intent on defending both himself and his mate, shifted shape. He shifted right beside the road in broad daylight and did not care. He’d wounded Magnus the night before—it was time to finish the old snake forever.

  Then sate the firestorm.

  For the moment, other consequences could be damned.

  Chapter 8

  One minute, Melissa’s blood had been heating in anticipation of the kiss she was going to share with Rafferty. Those blue-green flames seemed to be dancing in slow motion, sliding over her skin, outlining his shoulders in vivid light. They had a seductive rhythm of their own, those weird flames, but she liked them. She was starting to associate them with pleasure of the best kind.

  The next minute, there was a green salamander slithering between them, one that shouted in Montmorency’s voice.

  It said something for recent events in her life that Melissa was less startled than she might have been.

  She had time to gasp before Rafferty shouted. His eyes blazed, and he shimmered a lighter blue around his perimeter. It wasn’t the same blue-green hue as the flames that lit where he touched her, and was more of a glow than a burning flame. She saw red blood on his chest, probably where the newt had chomped him.

  One blink later, there were two dragons grappling for supremacy on the boulevard of frozen grass. Melissa stepped back and wished—one more time—for her camera. Car tires squealed, and there was a fender bender beside them as drivers were distracted by the sight of a dragon fight.

  She couldn’t blame them for that. She, too, was riveted.

  It was clear to her that Montmorency had made a mistake in initiating this fight. Even he appeared to be surprised by the vigor of Rafferty’s reaction. The sight of the four long scabs on his belly reminded Melissa that he had been wounded the night before, as well.

  Why had he struck when he was weakened? What did he know that they didn’t?

  The opal and gold dragon who had been her dream lover was vicious in his fury. Rafferty didn’t hesitate. He simply battled his foe with incredible strength.