“And God’s a woman.” Melissa nodded. She’d never been much for religion, and her illness had destroyed any vestigial notion that there was anyone looking out for her.
In a way, though, she found Rafferty’s faith both touching and powerful. Maybe faith sustained him. She was more empowered by the facts. Maybe there was something they could accomplish together. Maybe that was the point.
She looked him in the eye. “Maybe it’s time you tell me everything you do know about darkfire.”
“So you can put it on your blog and imperil us further?” Erik asked, his words hard.
“No,” Melissa said, aware that even Rafferty was watching her closely. “I made a mistake. I’m sorry, but I didn’t know what I was doing when I posted those pictures. I should have asked your permission.”
“You were sharing your experience with the world, making others aware of the truth,” Rafferty said quietly. “It’s what reporters do, as I understand it.”
Melissa stared at him, and he smiled. His approval was unexpected, and it made her mouth go dry. She decided not to tell him that she’d posted the pictures only to bring him back to her.
“Exactly,” she agreed. “And I am sorry. But you know, maybe there’s a reason for it. Maybe your Great Wyvern has some kind of plan that requires you to be revealed to humans. Maybe there’s more to be achieved than if you’re hidden.”
“How so?” Rafferty asked, his gaze brightening.
“Well, you’re the guardians of the earth, right?” Melissa said, and he nodded. “And how many of you are there?”
“Not enough,” Rafferty and Erik said in unison. Melissa looked between them. This was evidently an old joke, but no one was going to explain it to her.
“Well, there are ten billion of us, give or take,” she said. “Even a small percentage of us joining ranks with you could make a huge difference to your efforts.”
Rafferty frowned as he considered this notion. Melissa liked that he didn’t just dismiss her idea.
Erik, though, got up to pace again. This was clearly not a popular concept with him. Melissa knew when an idea wasn’t going to fly, or even be discussed, so she changed tactics.
“Okay, let’s forget for the moment about any divine plan,” she said quickly. “We still need to make a mortal plan. We can start with what we know, identify what we can change, and go from there.”
“Sensible,” Rafferty said. “I like action plans.” Erik, still clearly displeased, seemed to recognize that he had been outvoted. He sat down again, folding his arms across his chest.
Melissa smiled at him. She’d take any progress she could get, especially with him. “It sounds as if darkfire is about shaking up the status quo, so we should figure out exactly where we stand before we do anything more. It’ll minimize the chances of making another mistake.”
She looked between the two Pyr, finding a grudging respect even in Erik’s gaze. Rafferty smiled at her warmly, and she wondered what she had done to earn his favor, even as her heart skipped a beat.
She picked up the pad of paper on the counter and a pen. “Go on. Tell me about darkfire. Don’t leave anything out, even if you think I won’t like it.”
His mate was a marvel.
Rafferty was proud of Melissa’s resilience and her determination. He admired that she had survived her battle and that, even in its wake, she had a zest for living. He knew her confession was only the tip of the iceberg in terms of what she had borne, but he guessed that she wouldn’t confide the rest easily.
Or soon.
He respected that she didn’t flinch from realities or challenges, but met them head-on. “Survivor” didn’t begin to describe her fortitude and guts.
And he particularly liked that Melissa saw the firestorm as an opportunity for them to work together. That meshed perfectly with Rafferty’s standing conviction that a successful firestorm brought Pyr and mate together in a relationship that was more than the sum of the parts.
He was intrigued by her idea. Imagine, humans working alongside the Pyr! He found it an exciting possibility. That Melissa had made the suggestion bolstered his confidence and fed his own resolve to see his firestorm successfully negotiated.
Or was he simply tempted by the heat of the firestorm to agree with his mate?
Erik was unpersuaded—so far. There would be repercussions, so it made sense to proceed with caution.
By the time Rafferty had put bread in the toaster and taken some fruit and jam out of the fridge, he was decided. He chose to trust Melissa with the tale of the darkfire, even knowing that Erik would have preferred otherwise.
“There is an ancient prophecy about darkfire, one I learned long ago.” Rafferty heard Erik inhale but ignored him.
“Who taught it to you?” Melissa asked.
“My grandfather. He knew all the tales and legends.”
“He was a storyteller?”
“No. He was the Cantor.”
“That sounds important.”
Rafferty looked away, uncomfortable still with this facet of his grandfather’s abilities. It smacked of sorcery to him, and deceit, even after all these years. “He believed it was. I did not.”
“You argued,” she guessed. How much of his thoughts could she perceive? She was so much more observant than most humans.
“It was a long time ago.” Rafferty smiled to soften his refusal to confide that detail. “For the moment, let me tell you the prophecy.”
Erik harumphed, then rose to his feet. The toaster popped an instant later, but he was already there. He gave Melissa two slices and put two more in to toast. Rafferty knew Erik was listening closely.
He spoke carefully, giving the old verse a new cadence.
“Darkfire’s flame burns bright as ice;
No hint of compromise will suffice.
Darkfire’s heat will not fade
Until much that is has been unmade.
Until all that is hidden has been revealed,
Until all that was clear becomes concealed.
Until the Sleeper wakes to his fate,
Until the Cantor’s legacy is claimed.
But out of ruin rises new growth;
The flames of mercury know this truth.”
Melissa wrote quickly, using a kind of shorthand. She didn’t ask Rafferty to repeat anything. He watched her read her own notes again, then tap her pencil against the paper.
He felt Erik turn, felt the weight of the other Pyr’s gaze, and wondered at his avid interest.
“What was Pwyll’s legacy? Didn’t you claim it?” Erik asked in old-speak. “And who’s the Sleeper?”
Rafferty focused on his mate. Melissa stared out the window and frowned before speaking. Clearly she had heard the rumble of the old-speak. “Who’s the Sleeper?” she asked.
In another place and time, Rafferty might have been amused that they asked such a similar question.
“I can’t tell you that,” Rafferty said, aware of Erik’s watchfulness.
“Then what’s the Sleeper’s fate?”
“Who can say?” Rafferty accepted toast from Erik and made a task of buttering it. He felt Melissa watching him all the while.
“I’ll guess you aren’t going to tell me the Cantor’s legacy.”
Rafferty smiled at her. “I don’t know what it was.”
“Okay,” Melissa said finally. “So, darkfire is a kind of firestorm, one that indicates huge change for the Pyr. What makes it happen?”
Rafferty shrugged. “It’s random.”
“Are you sure?” Melissa asked.
Rafferty drummed his fingers on the table. “It’s possible that Pwyll knew more, but I don’t.”
Melissa made a note. “I’ll consider it a random variable, until we know more. What’s changed so far?”
“I see no reason to itemize our weaknesses,” Erik protested.
Melissa glanced at him. “Well, we know one thing that’s been revealed. All of you. What’s been concealed?” Erik didn’t answ
er her, his lips tight. She scanned her notes. “So, the obvious Plan A would be to determine whether the Sleeper has awakened, but you won’t tell me about the Sleeper. Plan B would be to itemize what’s changed, but you won’t tell me that either. What’s Plan C?”
Rafferty sighed. He had no taste for his toast. How could he make a success of his firestorm without betraying the Pyr? What was the Great Wyvern’s plan for him? What should he do? He yearned for a sign of how to proceed, to save him from being responsible for disaster.
Again.
To his astonishment, that sign came.
The door to the garden opened then, and Eileen stepped into the kitchen, looking tired. Zoë charged across the tiled floor, full of energy, and made a beeline for Rafferty. She climbed into his lap, as charming and demanding as always, and locked her chubby fingers around the black and white ring he wore. He dared to hope she would provide guidance to him, as she had before.
Instead, she turned to sit on his lap and considered Melissa with her clear gaze.
“You must be the new mate,” Eileen said, shedding her coat. She tried to cover her yawn without success. “I’m feeling like an ancient mate this morning. Word to the wise—think twice before taking a two-year-old on a night flight from Chicago to London. On such an adventure, the last thing she’ll do is sleep.” She smiled and winked at Melissa, yawning once again before she offered her hand. “Eileen Grosvenor. Miss Energy there is our daughter, Zoë. I’m hoping she slides into a deep sleep any minute now, but chances appear to be slim.”
“Melissa Smith.” Melissa stood and shook Eileen’s hand.
“Oh, you’re the blogger,” Eileen said, and feigned consternation. Erik, still grim faced, poured her a coffee, and she blew him a kiss as she accepted it. His attitude wasn’t visibly affected by her gesture, so Rafferty knew he was deeply troubled.
Eileen sipped and closed her eyes in rapture. “You always have such good coffee, Rafferty,” she murmured, then smiled at Melissa, her eyes widening. “I’ve heard lots about you.”
“Do you want toast?” Erik asked gruffly.
“Yes, please.” Eileen took Erik’s place and smiled across the table at Melissa. “Don’t let them intimidate you. So long as we’re human and mates—neither of which is likely to change soon—they’re pledged to defend us, even if they do get grumpy.” She picked an orange out of the fruit bowl and peeled it, handing the segments to Zoë. The little girl hung on to Rafferty’s ring, smiled, and ate with obvious pleasure.
Rafferty was less pleased. He waited with some impatience for a vision that never arrived.
The last time Zoë had grasped his ring, she’d given him a vision. He’d hoped that she’d seized it now to give him some indication of how to proceed. But there was nothing, not a glimmer of a dream, not a hint of a vision.
“Orge,” she said firmly to Melissa.
Melissa smiled at the toddler. “She likes your ring.”
“She adores Rafferty,” Eileen supplied.
“It’s only fitting that she likes the ring,” Rafferty said, realizing at Erik’s sigh that he’d said too much again. There was no chance Melissa would let that reaction slide.
“Why? What’s the deal with that ring, anyway? How does it change size to fit when you’re a dragon?”
“It seems to have some magical powers,” Rafferty said, contenting himself with that response. He was keenly aware of Erik’s presence and his view that nothing more should be told to Melissa. Rafferty himself was torn. He couldn’t see a way forward without confiding in Melissa, but he didn’t want to rile Erik even more.
He’d have to pick and choose. For the moment, he wouldn’t explain that the ring had been formed of the bodies of Sophie, the last Wyvern, and her lover, Nikolas, the Dragon’s Teeth Warrior. The pair had sacrificed themselves in ensuring the destruction of Magnus’s academy, and all that remained was this ring. It looked like black glass spun with white, a perfect reminder of the white perfection of Sophie’s dragon form and the fierce black of Nikolas’s dragon form.
Ice and anthracite, forever entwined in the ring as they could not have been while alive.
“Like what?” Melissa asked.
“Let’s focus on darkfire, shall we?” Erik interjected.
In the same moment, Melissa frowned. “Wait a minute.” Melissa indicated Eileen. “If you’re a mate, and this is your child, is she a Pyr, too? Are there female dragons? I’ve seen only men.”
Silence reigned for a moment, filling the kitchen and Rafferty’s ears.
“You ask too many questions,” Erik said tightly.
“That’s what happens when you hunt the truth,” Melissa replied smoothly.
Erik leaned closer. “You will put our very survival in jeopardy. It’s happened before.”
“It looks to me like our goals can be combined,” she countered.
“How so?”
Rafferty admired that Melissa was undaunted. She spoke in a calm tone. “I met Rafferty because I was determined to expose Montmorency as the arms dealer he is, and to bring him to justice.”
“He killed a friend of Melissa’s,” Rafferty supplied, and Erik nodded.
Melissa tapped her pen, obviously thinking. “But Rafferty is right—no jail would hold him, given his ability to shift into a salamander and to spontaneously manifest wherever he wants. On the other hand, Rafferty’s attempt to finish their duel by killing Montmorency was caught on video.”
Erik passed a hand over his brow. “So we are not just revealed but reviled. Again.”
“Not necessarily,” Melissa and Rafferty said in unison.
“You have an idea,” Eileen said, her eyes bright.
“I’m getting to it,” Melissa agreed. “The thing is that the fight between Rafferty and Montmorency didn’t just attract human attention. It brought this topaz guy out of the woodwork.”
“Jorge,” Erik supplied. “Another Slayer.”
“And minion of Magnus,” Rafferty supplied.
Melissa scribbled all of that down before she continued. “But they came off looking like heroes.” She pointed her pen at Rafferty. “While you were cast as the bad guy.”
Rafferty grimaced. “It is not familiar territory for me.”
Melissa’s lips set. “I think the immediate problem is Montmorency. We don’t know where he is, but we do know he is sworn to kill Rafferty.”
“Or be killed himself,” Rafferty confirmed.
Melissa sat back, pushing her notes across the table. “So what would draw him out? What would make him come to you, the way Jorge came to him?”
Rafferty stared at her in horror. Eileen dropped a spoon, and Erik’s eyes glittered.
“You want to lure him to us?” Rafferty asked.
“He’s injured, isn’t he? Doesn’t that make him weaker? It only makes sense that time will let him heal, which will make him tougher to kill.” Melissa frowned. “He was already hurt after the helicopter. Why did he attack you after you saved me? You would have finished him there, if not for Jorge.”
“Maybe he knew Jorge was coming to his rescue,” Eileen suggested.
Rafferty shook his head. “No. He was shocked by Jorge’s appearance, and I sensed that he was not certain of Jorge’s objectives.” His frown deepened. “I’m not certain myself why Jorge would come to Magnus’s aid. I had always thought his own ambition was to become leader of the Slayers.”
“Why not let you do the dirty work?” Erik mused.
“So, there’s another variable,” Melissa said, adding a question mark beside Jorge’s name on her list. “We have to anticipate that Jorge will follow if we manage to coax Magnus out of hiding.”
Erik rubbed his chin. “So, your scheme is to lure Magnus closer, then let Rafferty fulfill his blood challenge.”
“Yes. One less opponent in the world can’t be all bad, and we’ll be sure Rafferty isn’t directly targeted.”
Eileen leaned forward. “And if darkfire really does require that everything
change, then eliminating the leader of the Slayers could be part of fulfilling its prophecy.”
Erik flicked a stern look at Melissa. “If it happens, it must occur without human observation.”
Melissa winced. “Actually, I was thinking just the opposite. You guys have really bad PR right now, but the truth is a great story. Guardians of the elements, safeguarding the treasures of the earth, which include humanity. It’s a fabulous green story and would really resonate for people.”
“No.” Erik pushed to his feet. “It’s out of the question.”
Melissa stood up herself. “Is it? What if the change required by the darkfire is having humans not only know you’re in their midst but also help you with your mission? What if the way for you to succeed in saving the planet lies in having a couple billion of us on your side?”
“It makes sense,” Rafferty said softly, and Melissa flashed him a smile.
Erik paced, his disapproval clear. “No. It makes no sense. We will be hunted again. We have been driven to the cusp of extinction before, and I will not lead us there again.”
“But you don’t have a choice,” Melissa retorted. “The story’s already out there. You can’t make it disappear. All you can do is add to it in your own defense.”
“I don’t like it!” Erik protested, his eyes flashing.
“Tell us your idea before any decisions are made,” Eileen said to Melissa, her hand landing on her partner’s arm.
“It’s the book that will do it,” Melissa said excitedly.
“What book?” Eileen asked.
“Montmorency kept a book documenting his activities and appointments as an arms dealer,” Melissa said.
“We have it,” Rafferty said.
“We can use his own records against him, show him for the sinister force he is, review his crimes, then destroy him and make the world safe for humanity.” She flung up her hands. “You guys will be heroes, fighters for justice, and probably superstars.”
“The book will draw him, as will the threat of being revealed,” Rafferty mused. “It drew him before.”
“Never mind the firestorm,” Eileen added. She wagged a finger at Melissa. “Your plan could work. Magnus would be destroyed, Rafferty would be safe, with the blood duel satisfied, the Slayers would be short a leader, and the Pyr would look good in the public eye. That’s got to make some progress in satisfying darkfire’s demand to turn everything topsy-turvy.”