“Apparently, there wasn’t a choice,” Theo said in a reasonable tone. Kristofer thought he was going to have to do some serious talking to get that bartender to lighten up. “Several of us were revealed...”
“Sloppy,” Caleb said and sipped his beer.
“Betrayed,” Theo corrected tightly. “It was the darkfire...”
The little bartender looked up so abruptly that the glass filled and the beer spilled. She didn’t even notice as the beer ran over her hand and onto the floor. “Darkfire?” she repeated softly. “What happened to that?”
“It’s loosed for good,” Theo said and shrugged. “Extinguished.”
She caught her breath, then looked back down at the beer. To Kristofer’s surprise, there was no spilled beer anymore, as if someone had cleaned it up—but there was no one else behind the bar.
Murray was studying her, a question in his expression. “Darkfire?”
To Kristofer’s surprise, she answered, her words falling quickly. “An ancient magic that breeds chaos and unpredictability in the world of the Pyr. Darkfire was trapped in three quartz crystals in the past by the Cantor, Pwyll, who was Rafferty’s grandfather. Darkfire burns with a blue-green light and crackles within the crystals as if there is lightning trapped within them. It provokes...change and uncertainty.”
The Pyr exchanged glances of surprise and Hadrian took a step back.
“How do you know that?” Theo demanded of the bartender.
“I’ve been around a while. I know a lot more about dragons than you might expect.” There was a fierce glitter in her eyes then, and she gave Theo a hot glance. “More even than Melissa Smith is inclined to share.” She pointed at Murray. “And once upon a time, it was believed that dragons had the most powerful magick of all.”
“Another reason to be wary,” Murray agreed.
Kristofer saw that they were already dividing into sides.
“We have questions,” Rhys said. “We need answers.”
“Is the librarian safe?” Theo asked. “The one that I helped get from the Intrepid to Soho?”
Caleb nodded. “If anyone can be safe in a vampire’s custody.”
“Who is she?” Kade asked again.
“And who are the Others?” Kristofer asked. “How many other kinds are there?”
“How did we miss them all this time?” Rhys added.
“Are we really supposed to ally with vampires?” Alasdair asked with distaste.
“Trust me, we share your reservations about any such alliance,” said a man with a silky voice. The Pyr looked up and spun as one to find a dark-haired man standing in the shadows. He wasn’t near the door and Kristofer was sure he hadn’t been there before. He moved toward the bar, reaching it in the blink of an eye, even though he had to have been standing thirty feet away. Kristofer didn’t see him walk or otherwise move from one point to the other: he was just at the door, then at the bar.
Kristofer frowned. From a distance, the man had no scent, which was strange. Was he a vampire?
That made at least two kinds of Others. He looked at Murray and the bartender. Maybe four.
“I am Micah, leader of the Coven of Mercy,” the new arrival said.
“Vampires don’t have mercy,” Hadrian said, his tone dismissive.
“I wasn’t aware that you were so knowledgeable of my kind,” Micah said. “Especially since you didn’t believe we were real until moments ago.”
“Point to Micah,” Alasdair muttered.
The new arrival inclined his head, then nodded at each Pyr in turn. Apparently, vampires didn’t shake hands.
Before he could ask again about the elimination comment, Kristofer felt a jolt of heat. It came from behind him, and sent desire flooding through him. He spun to look across the dance floor to the far wall, even as his heart leaped.
It couldn’t be.
“Not again,” Murray said, staring at the light outlining a brick on the far wall.
“I told you to get the steel installed,” the bartender said, speaking through her teeth.
“They’re coming tomorrow,” Murray protested.
“That’ll be too late,” Caleb said, rising to his feet.
Kristofer didn’t care what they were talking about. He raised his hand and saw the golden flame of the firestorm glowing around his hand. It brightened when he reached toward the wall and sparks flew from his fingertips. He heard each of his fellow Pyr catch his breath, but had eyes only for the flame.
His firestorm!
This was the challenge he would face, the one foretold by the rune, and Kristofer was more than ready for it. He’d been waiting for the moment he’d meet his destined mate all his life. There was a glimmer and a glow, then Kristofer spotted her against the wall, near that illuminated brick. Maybe because of the brilliance of the firestorm, she looked insubstantial and misty, but she couldn’t be an illusion.
She was tall and slim, with long auburn hair falling over her shoulders. She was staring right at him, the golden glow of the firestorm burning on her outstretched hand and lighting her features. She was dressed in black, wearing high-heeled tall black boots, a black leather jacket and a short skirt that rippled slightly around her knees.
Feminine and kick-ass. The combination was working for him.
Her smile turned wicked and she spun around as if to run. Kristofer was ready to play whatever game she chose. Rafferty had been right—the spark of the firestorm changed everything. His mate’s skirt flared, giving him a tantalizing glimpse of her thighs, then silver light flashed and she was gone. She’d vanished as if she had been a mirage or a ghost.
“No!” Kristofer shouted and raced after her. The one brick in that wall shone silver, then the light was extinguished. He landed hard against the brick wall.
She was gone.
There was a brick wall between them. It made no sense, but the truth was inescapable.
“It’s like she went into another dimension,” Kristofer murmured in old-speak. How could that be? He ran his hands over the wall in panic, then noticed that a golden gleam lit beneath his hands when they were in contact with the brick wall.
She had to be on the other side! The heat of the firestorm filled his body with need. His destined mate had come to him and she’d been snatched away. He’d tear the wall down brick by brick if necessary.
He’d follow his mate no matter where she’d gone.
Nothing was going to stand in the way of his firestorm.
Theo couldn’t dismiss his sense that everything was going wrong.
Kristofer having his firestorm in an urban bar wasn’t half of it. If Theo had guessed, he would have expected Kristofer to have a firestorm with a wholesome girl-next-door who baked bread and raised bees. The woman he glimpsed on the dance floor—the one who had vanished into thin air—looked sleek and urban, more like the heroine of a graphic novel, and as unlikely a mate for Kristofer as possible.
But the firestorm was never wrong.
Was it?
Kristofer was running his hands over the brick wall in desperation after his mate disappeared. That was strange, too. Had she even been there? Alasdair, Rhys and Hadrian were hot on his heels, so to speak, followed by Kade.
The tiny bartender snatched Theo’s hand. “It’s a trap,” she whispered. “Don’t let them follow her.”
“Follow her where?” Theo asked. “Where did she go?”
“Through the portal,” the vampire, Micah, said with conviction. Both Caleb and Murray looked grim and Theo felt uneasy.
“Portal to where? What’s back there?” he asked.
“You don’t want to go beyond that wall,” the cute bartender said.
“Why not?” Theo was tired of half-answers. “What can be there, except the interior of the next building?”
“It’s a portal to Fae,” Murray spat. “She’s there.”
“Who is she?” Theo demanded in a roar. The bartender shook her head and stretched as if she’d whisper in his ear.
&
nbsp; Theo never heard what she said. There was a brilliant flash of blue light and a bellow. He spun to see that Kristofer had shifted shape, and had become a dragon with sparkling peridot and gold scales. His long tail snaked across the dance floor. Rhys and Hadrian shimmered blue, then shifted to their dragon forms, too. Rhys was as stocky and muscular in his dragon form as his human one, and his garnet and silver scales flashed. Hadrian became an emerald and silver dragon, then reared up and breathed fire at the ceiling. The dance floor was full of dragons.
“The fixtures!” Murray shouted.
“Remember the Covenant,” Theo warned in old-speak. They had pledged the Covenant to the leader of the Pyr to never reveal themselves to humans in both forms.
Rhys cast a glance over his shoulder. “Does it matter with Others?” he scoffed and Theo didn’t know.
“It could be argued that it doesn’t count with anybody,” the bartender said. “Given those television shows.”
How had she heard old-speak? Theo pivoted to stare at her and she smiled.
“You’re not the only ones with secrets,” she said, using some old-speak herself.
Meanwhile, Kade dug something out of his pocket. It looked like a pen, but was clear, like stylus made of ice. He quickly pushed through the crowd of dragons and drew the outline of a door on the wall of the club. The line sparkled, as if he’d drawn it with some kind of stardust marker.
“No!” shouted the bartender, and pushed past him, her expression horrified.
“Will this go to her?” Kristofer demanded.
“I think maybe.” Kade said, either ignoring the bartender or oblivious to her protest. “It’s worth a try.” He drew a doorknob, then a keyhole. He paused as the bartender shouted again, then took a deep breath and pushed the pen into the keyhole.
Theo’s jaw dropped as silver light outlined the door. This wasn’t like the Fae warriors and their weapons that sliced new openings between the worlds, but a genuine portal to another world.
“Not here!” the bartender cried, body-slamming Theo to get past him. She lunged forward and snatched for the circle that had become a door knob.
She missed.
The door flew open and blindingly bright silver light poured into the club. Kristofer dove through the portal without hesitation. Theo could see the orange glow of the firestorm brighten around Kristofer’s dragon form. Rhys and Hadrian were right behind him, though Theo didn’t trust the door at all. The fact that it had looked about seven feet tall but accommodated them in their dragon forms just proved it wasn’t a normal door in any way.
“They should be beguiled,” Alasdair said in old-speak, eying the small group around the bar.
“They’re the last thing you need to worry about,” the bartender said flatly. She spared a disgusted glance at Theo. “You’d think dragons would know better than to take the bait.” She marched through the portal with purpose, although Theo saw her shudder from head to toe as she crossed the threshold.
“You can’t go with us,” Theo protested.
She glanced over her shoulder to meet his gaze. “You won’t get out of there alive without me.”
“Why are you helping us?” He had to ask.
Her smile was both provocative and secretive, a smile that only increased his desire to know more about her. “I have a bit of a thing for dragons. Call it a weakness.” Then she disappeared into the darkness on the other side of the portal.
Theo was torn between his responsibilities.
“Hurry if you’re coming,” the bartender urged, her face appearing in the shadows. “This won’t last long.” Theo could see that the edges of the door were already starting to blur, and guessed that it would soon become the plain wall again.
“I’ve got to help Kristofer,” he said to Alasdair. “Even if it’s a trap.”
“Go,” Alasdair said then switched to old-speak. “I’ll try to find out about the Others. Balthasar and Arach are still on their way.” He grimaced. “Plus someone has to report to Erik.”
Their gazes met in silent understanding.
“In case we don’t come back,” Theo said.
“I wish it didn’t seem like such a distinct possibility,” Alasdair replied, but Theo had no time to delay. He couldn’t abandon his fellows.
“Don’t use that pen again,” he instructed. “And talk to Drake!”
Alasdair nodded.
“Hurry!” the bartender shouted and stretched her hand out to Theo. He realized that he couldn’t even see the perimeter of the door anymore. The opening had diminished to a fuzzy gap, with her pale hand extending from it. He seized her hand. Her skin was soft and her grip surprisingly strong.
She tugged just as the portal closed around Theo with an abrupt snap, as if it would keep him out. He roared and summoned his dragon, letting the shimmer of his body’s change tinge the darkness with blue light. He pushed himself into a destination unknown and hoped for the best.
He knew the odds against that were long.
A life for a life.
It seemed like a comparatively fair deal, especially as it had been offered by the Dark Queen of the Fae. Bree had to wonder if there was a catch.
But then, it didn’t really matter how fair it was. She’d hated dragons for as long as she could remember, so one less in the world was all good—even if he was a dragon shifter. The details were unimportant.
As she waited to see whether her prey would take the bait, Bree told herself that it didn’t even matter if he led all of his kind into danger. A world without dragons would be good. And winning the release of her sister from captivity was more than worth any price.
Bree simmered in the darkness, feeling the effects of Maeve’s fake firestorm. It glowed and it burned. It flushed her skin and ran like liquid fire through her veins, turning her thoughts to the pursuit of pleasure and sexual satisfaction. In a way, it fed her base instincts, fostered her need for a man’s touch, and drove her thoughts from everything else. She liked sex just fine, but she didn’t want to obsess about it.
She didn’t want to burn with need for it.
And she didn’t want to desire the hot dragon shifter touched by the firestorm’s light. She wasn’t going to be fooled by a spell’s effect or seduced by smoking hot good looks—he was tall, blond, ripped and gorgeous in his human form, a man she would have noticed even without the influence of magick.
But he was a means to an end.
She’d never have him.
She shouldn’t even want him.
Even if she did. Maeve had neglected to mention that the firestorm would also affect Bree, and she guessed the omission hadn’t been an accident.
She clenched her fists and reminded herself that Kara’s release was the point.
Then her heart stopped as she saw the dragon come through the portal.
He entered Maeve’s realm by choice.
Perfect.
Bree had tempted him, but he’d responded with enthusiasm. His choice proved that dragon shifters were driven by their base instincts, just like the dragons she’d hunted in the past: the fake firestorm’s light made this Pyr believe he was going to get lucky.
Little did he know he’d just abandoned every scrap of luck he’d ever had.
She saw the dragonfire spark in the darkness high above her, then a dragon roared loud enough to shake her bones. He soared into the inky darkness of Fae, a massive and magnificent beast with glittering scales. His huge wings sent him shooting into Maeve’s realm with a single beat. From this angle, she could see that his belly was golden-yellow, like gold armor, but probably not as soft.
Bree stared in awe, despite herself. This dragon’s scales were pale green and they shone with the clarity of fine gems. Each one was edged in brilliant gold, and the scales on his chest were all gold. His talons were gold, too, and the firestorm’s light caressed him like the marvel he was. He might have been a magnificent treasure come to life.
She felt admiration, which was both unwelcome and unnecessary
.
The dragon she’d hunted centuries before had been black and a brute beast, with a heart so dark that it might have been made of coal. He’d been more savage than a wild animal and less noble, incapable of prompting any emotion other than terror.
But this Pyr was majestic. He flew with measured power, his dark wings stretched wide as they beat slowly. His tail trailed behind him, and he made flight look effortless and easy, despite his size. The sight of him lifted her heart with unexpected joy.
Bree wondered what it would be like to fly with him.
No, her urge was to ride him, to ride him into war. She thought they’d be a hell of a team, then caught herself.
Kara’s survival relied upon the entrapment of this dragon.
She had to finish what she’d started, whether he was gorgeous or not.
Bree let herself fall, even though she was uncertain how far it would be to the ground. She stayed in her human form, letting her prey underestimate her. She flailed her arms and shouted, trying to sound desperate and feeble. Didn’t dragons like damsels in distress? She could work with that, even if it was another reason to despise them.
She didn’t need anyone to save her, and never would.
The false firestorm sparked around her, touching her with golden light. She felt warm and aroused, which might have been pleasurable if she hadn’t been trying to ignore it. Even this fake firestorm was effective in turning her thoughts to sensual pleasure. Was that how dragon shifters got what they wanted? They just overwhelmed their mate’s objections with pulsing desire? Good thing she wasn’t going to fall for that.
The glow was becoming a darker hue of orange as the distance between them increased.
“Help! Help me!” she cried, then screamed as if terrified.
She watched the green dragon pivot in the air high overhead and look down for her. His eyes glittered suddenly and Bree knew he’d spotted her. His nostrils flared and his tail slashed through the air. With astonishing speed and accuracy, he dove toward her, talons outstretched and wings beating hard.
Bree’s throat tightened despite herself and her heart leaped with admiration. Gods, but it should be forbidden for any creature to be so beautiful. The golden glow of the firestorm brightened as he drew closer, the sparks flying with greater speed between them. The light washed over him lovingly, making him look his best.
Dragon's Kiss (The DragonFate Novels Book 2) Page 4