Snow hooted, as if the bird was laughing at him.
Chandra wondered how much information Thorolf really wanted. “That’s what the ghosts say,” she admitted.
“Ghosts?”
She turned to find him frozen in his steps, his expression alarmed. “What’s wrong with ghosts?” she asked, struck by his concern. That a dragon should be afraid of anything wasn’t an idea she’d considered.
“Besides the fact that they’re dead and they haunt people?” Thorolf shuddered. “I do better with living people.”
“I noticed that in the market. And the apartment.” Chandra failed to keep the humor from her tone.
Thorolf gave her a look, then braced his hands on his hips. Mmm. He was seriously good to look at. Chandra wasn’t disappointed that there were no T-shirts to be had in the sanctuary.
He glared at her. “Okay, something or someone is messing with me. Rafferty said I’m turning Slayer, but here’s the thing. Most of the Slayers I know are dead, and some of them are dead because I killed them. Never mind the shadow dragons, who are also evil and also dead, and have the distinction of having been controlled by the Slayer Chen, who might be responsible for this missing chunk of my life. So, meeting up with ghosts, with or without strong links to Chen, isn’t exactly a high priority item for me right now.”
“You sound like a kid who’s scared of the dark.”
“I’m no kid.”
“Compared to what?”
“I’m old enough to have kicked some butt over the centuries.” He eyed her. “How old are you exactly?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Because you did that shifting thing when we met, as if you were a hundred different women. Were those past lives, or are you a shape shifter, too?”
Chandra felt a jolt of fear at the reminder of how much she’d revealed to him. “It’s complicated.” She turned away and marched to the structure that housed her library.
“So, you know a lot about me and I know nothing about you,” Thorolf complained. “That doesn’t sound right.”
“Maybe it’s a test of the firestorm.”
“Maybe you like to be the one who has the answers,” he retorted, sounding disgruntled. “Maybe you just like being in charge.”
His comment stung, mostly because it was true, so Chandra pivoted to face him and ended up admitting more than she’d intended. “The portals tend to be where there are a lot of ghosts gathered. I’m not sure why that is.” At his stern look, she shrugged. “I’m not holding out on you. I don’t know. Maybe they’re the ones who remember the stories.”
“The myths, you mean.”
She nodded.
“So where are the ghosts?” He looked away, staring into the shadows of the vegetation.
“Everywhere.” Chandra could feel their presence, even when she couldn’t see them. It was like being watched by a million silent observers.
None of whom blinked.
“I can’t see them,” Thorolf admitted, but he kept looking.
“It’s more like a feeling of being watched.”
“I can’t feel them,” he said, but his eyes narrowed. She saw him take a long slow breath and his eyes glittered as he scanned the area. When he was avid like this, focused totally on something, Chandra found him even more appealing. He looked invincible and brilliant, committed.
A hero.
And all dragon. She thought of the loyalty of dragons, their power and their protectiveness, their ability to keep secrets and solve riddles, and yearned to feel his bare skin against hers. Would he overwhelm her? Claim her? Seduce her? Entice her? Chandra found herself tingling with the possibilities.
Which only meant that she had to get this mission back on track.
Chapter Four
“Where’s Viv?” Chandra demanded, and Thorolf eyed her with consideration. She supposed she should have worked up to the question or been less blunt, but those weren’t her best skills.
“I’ll trade you,” Thorolf offered unexpectedly, impaling her with an intent look. “Answer for answer. And those half-answers of yours aren’t going to cut it, so don’t even try.”
Chandra folded her arms over her chest. She instinctively kept her knowledge to herself and had done so for a long time. She disliked that he’d seen so much of her nature already, but there was some merit in the notion of working together. She wondered whether he knew just what or who was against them. “Okay,” she said, pretty sure he noticed her lack of enthusiasm. “Ask.”
“What are you?” Thorolf asked, going right for the big question. Chandra wasn’t going to answer him and he must have guessed as much because he laughed. “Not that one?”
She shook her head.
“You do enough beating around the bush for both of us.” He leaned closer, his gaze bright. His fingertip landed on her shoulder and began to ease toward her throat. Heat seared Chandra’s skin and her arousal made her mouth go dry. He knew exactly what he was doing, and she was determined not to let him know how much his touch excited her. It would have helped if he hadn’t ditched his shirt. All that bare flesh was seriously distracting. “I told you half answers weren’t enough.”
“So I went with no answer instead.”
He laughed again. Despite herself, Chandra found her resistance melting and her mouth curving in an answering smile. They stood and eyed each other, the firestorm’s light heating between them in a most distracting way.
His fingertip reached her chin and she caught her breath, unable to stop herself. Thorolf’s confident grin widened and that dimple, that tempting dimple, appeared once more. She was looking at his mouth again, remembering…
“That’s complicated,” she said in a hurry and stepped back. “It’s too much too soon.”
To her surprise, Thorolf let her break the contact between them, although he now echoed her pose. The stance made him look formidable and determined, as well as very male. They stood toe to toe and Chandra felt that low quiver of awareness continue to become more vehement.
She wanted another kiss. A longer and slower one, one that ended with them naked together.
Her curiosity was, of course, just to find out whether kisses had a diminishing appeal. It might just be novelty that had made the first two so hot.
It was a purely logical consideration.
Even she knew that was a rationalization.
He smiled as if he could read her thoughts. His eyes glittered as he leaned down toward her. This time, Chandra felt so mesmerized that she couldn’t move away. “Okay, let’s try something simple.” he murmured, even his voice feeding her lust. “How do you know so much about the Pyr?”
“Research.” Her tone was resolute.
“But that’s just the thing. How could you research us? Unless you are Pyr and know from personal experience, or hang out with Pyr, how would you know?”
Her gaze danced over him, his muscular build showed to advantage by his pose, and lingered on his good tattoos. The blue dragon on his left hand had a tail that wrapped around his forearm. The other dragon wrapped its tail around his right upper arm. The weird spirals were fainter. “And if I hung out with Pyr, you’d know about it?”
“Absolutely.”
Chandra was intrigued. “But there are so many of you. Do you share memories?”
“There weren’t so many of us until the darkfire crystal took Drake and his men back into the past.” He answered her easily and honestly, his trust in her so complete that she was amazed. Was it possible that he had no secrets? She couldn’t imagine that. “Those of us who were here before they created generations of sons are pretty tight.”
Chandra nodded, knowing that strange revision of world history created by the Dragon Legion. The darkfire crystal had changed both the past and the present, maybe even the future, which was impressive magic.
It had also created the problem that she had vowed to solve.
Thorolf held her gaze steadily, waiting for her answer. Fortunately, this was one thing s
he was prepared to share with him. “I have a library.”
In fact, Thorolf might be able to trigger the library to tell them exactly what they needed to know. The ghosts in the library were reliable like that.
They were also reliable in that they usually left out some key detail that Chandra always wished later that she’d known sooner.
She’d have to take the chance.
“A library?” he echoed. “We’re not in any books, not really.”
“But you’re in this library. Come on, I’ll show you.” The falcon took flight as Chandra spun with purpose. She strode toward the stone building that had once been a temple of some kind. Thorolf matched his steps to hers and caught her elbow in one hand. It was a gentlemanly gesture, one that surprised her, and maybe that was why the firestorm flared to incandescent brilliance.
She pulled her arm from his grasp, uncertain what would happen if she was this distracted when she did any sorcery. “Just keep your distance,” she warned, hearing the strain in her own words. “I have to think straight to complete this quest.”
Thorolf grinned in a way that both excited her and warned her. “Keep my distance during our firestorm?” he asked. “Not a chance.” He caught her hand in his and gave her fingers a squeeze. “The burn is part of the reward.”
When his palm collided with hers, Chandra felt a vehement thrum of desire, one that slid through her body and filled her with need. She could have turned and surrendered everything to him in that moment, without a second’s hesitation. The feeling was completely seductive and exactly the wrong response if she intended to keep Thorolf at bay.
“What quest?” he demanded, bending to whisper in her ear. That he could think straight during the firestorm was like salt in the wound.
Chandra shivered with pleasure even as she forced herself to answer. “My quest to save the Pyr, of course,” she said, realizing that once again, she’d revealed more than she’d intended to.
And Thorolf, his gaze bright, hadn’t missed it.
* * *
The Pyr didn’t need saving, as far as Thorolf was concerned, so Chandra’s answer made no sense. Sure, there were obstacles before them, and Chen was still out there, making trouble, but that wasn’t anything the Pyr couldn’t handle on their own.
Saving the Pyr in the final battle against the Slayers wasn’t the job of a mate.
He decided that she was just being evasive again, giving him a half answer instead of the truth.
Thorolf decided to let it go, for the moment. If he could win her trust, she’d tell him more. If Chandra always worked alone, as she said, then she wasn’t used to exchanging confidences. He’d win her over. Gradually.
No problem.
In fact, with the firestorm on his side, his success was a given.
She seemed relieved that he let it go.
Chandra led Thorolf to a small stone building that was less derelict than the rest. It was built like a fat column, but with a rounded top. It was maybe twenty feet wide and twice as tall, and the stone exterior was heavily carved. There was one of those big serene smiling faces carved over the low opening. This time, Thorolf was reminded of a midway ride, the kind that you entered through some demon’s mouth.
Maybe that was why he had such a bad feeling about going inside.
There were some gaps in the stone and some pieces missing, as well as those vines growing all over it, but this structure was clearly in better shape than the others.
Was that because she’d maintained it?
He looked at Chandra, only to find her watching him with a challenge in her smile. He’d come to expect her to push him, but the change in her appearance startled him. He blinked, but she stayed in this new form.
And watched for his reaction.
Her hair had grown longer and hung in ebony waves to her hips. She was Caucasian now, her features pretty and her breasts more full. She was still tall and athletic, but now her eyes were clear blue and thickly lashed. Her lips were lush and rosy, offering an invitation he was inclined to accept. She had a blue tattoo that wound around her arms, a network of Celtic knots that looked like chain mail.
Not snakes, thank the Great Wyvern.
His body responded with enthusiasm to the change. She could have been a new mate, a new conquest to be made, a whole new firestorm. The silver flame that danced between them burned with the same vigor and brilliance, turning her features to silver.
“Surely dragons aren’t afraid of temples,” she said as he took a step toward her, and he realized that her voice was lower, too.
Sultry.
Almost familiar. Thorolf frowned, trying to grasp an elusive memory. Did he know her already?
“Which is the real you?” He had to ask. “This form or the other?”
The question seemed to amuse her. “Which is the real you? The dragon or the man?”
“Do you always answer questions with more questions?” he demanded in frustration and she laughed. He smiled in return, liking how laughter made her look carefree.
He’d make her laugh when they satisfied the firestorm.
He smiled, knowing just how he’d do it.
She blushed in a most satisfactory way, as if she’d guessed his thoughts.
“Sometimes there are no easy answers.” She glanced at the doorway. “Unless you look in the shadows.” Again there was a dare in her expression and her tone. “Sure you’re not claustrophobic? Or afraid of the dark?” She didn’t wait for his denial, but stepped inside, disappearing so completely into the shadowed interior that it could have been a portal to another realm.
Thorolf shivered, not liking that thought one bit.
While he hesitated, eyeing that face and the vines that looked so much like snakes, the falcon flew over his head and into the darkness.
That decided it. He wasn’t going to look like a chicken beside a falcon.
Not in front of his mate.
Thorolf ducked his head and stepped through the doorway. To his relief, he found a small space inside, not a yawning portal to another realm. Chandra was standing to one side. She’d put on a quiver that was full of arrows and held a loaded crossbow. She must keep her weapon in this place, which hinted to Thorolf of its importance.
The interior was far creepier than the smiling face over the door.
There were skulls stacked in rows all around the walls. They gleamed white, as if bleached, their teeth bared in empty smiles and their eye sockets dark. They lined the entire structure, row after row of skulls, grinning back at Thorolf like a silent audience of thousands. They were stacked all the way to the top of the circular structure, and he wondered how many rows deep they were. Then he wondered what had happened to the rest of the bones from each body. Had she found this place or created it by gathering the skulls and arranging them? Thorolf shivered, not sure which answer was worse.
He was pretty sure that if he asked, she wouldn’t tell him.
There was a small hole at the top of the dome overhead, showing a tiny speck of the sky overhead. The interior of the building was illuminated by the silvery light of the firestorm, which only made the skulls look cold. Dead. The falcon had landed on a skull opposite the doorway, its claws clutching the cracked crown as it watched him.
“This would be where the ghosts come from?” he asked, trying to sound as if he weren’t freaked out. His voice caught, though, giving him away.
“I don’t know.” Chandra was calm and composed, exactly as he wasn’t. “Maybe.”
“For someone who likes to know the answers, you could know a few more,” Thorolf said and Chandra laughed again.
“Wouldn’t that be wonderful?” she mused. “But the world is full of more questions than answers.” She looked him up and down. “Is that what you’re afraid of? Dying?”
“Isn’t everybody?”
Chandra shook her head. “Some of us are afraid of living.” Her confession seemed to startle her as much as it did him.
“Excuse me?”
> “Comes with the territory,” she said quickly, as enigmatic as ever, then gestured to the skulls. “Trust me. They’ll tell us something.”
“How?”
Her eyes shone, as if she could read his thoughts. Certainly she had to sense his trepidation. His heart was racing, as if he’d run a couple of miles, and he felt it was practically echoing in this small space. It wasn’t just because of the firestorm, either. He could have done without the reminder that death comes as the end. He could almost taste death on his tongue, taste the ash of burning and the smell, that smell…
“Choose one and see,” Chandra invited, interrupting his thoughts.
She might have been suggesting he pick a sandwich from a tray. She must do this all the time. What was she and where was she from?
What exactly was her territory?
The last thing Thorolf wanted to do was touch a skull, no matter how long it had been without flesh. Still he sensed that Chandra didn’t think he’d do it. He wanted to surprise her.
“Bones don’t talk,” he protested.
“Ghosts do,” she retorted, so quickly he imagined someone had made that argument before.
So the ghosts and the skulls had a connection, and that had something to do with how she knew about the Pyr. Thorolf didn’t get it, but it was clear that Chandra intended to demonstrate rather than explain.
“Okay.” Thorolf looked around, trying to discern a difference between the skulls or at least something that would invite his choice. They all looked pretty much the same.
The falcon was sitting on one. If the bird was some kind of familiar for Chandra, or even if it just understood the rules of this sanctuary, its selection might matter. Maybe it wasn’t arbitrary.
It was as good a choice as any other.
Thorolf reached impulsively for the skull the falcon sat upon and the bird fluttered its wings, only taking flight enough to move to another skull. Thorolf lifted the skull in one hand, surprised to find it a little smaller than he’d expected and certainly lighter. He turned to offer it to Chandra, without knowing what she’d do with it, but she was gone.
In fact, the whole temple was gone. He was standing alone, a skull cradled in his hand, and it was raining blood.