The trick was to keep him talking. “Maybe you should explain it to me.”
He paused to survey her and she didn’t think he would answer. “Let me simply say that my fate has been knotted to that of the Smith for a long, long time. We have history, Quinn and I, although it will soon pass into memory.”
“You’re going to kill Quinn.”
“You seem to be a reasonably clever human, after all.” His gaze turned, assessing. “Or maybe you cheated. Is it true that the Smith must mate with the Seer before our final battle?”
“That’s what I’ve heard,” Sara said.
“How convenient, then, that the Seer can so easily be eliminated. It’s almost too easy, really.” He turned to glance over the city and raised a claw to draw her attention to one side. “Oh, now things are getting interesting.” Sara looked, knowing that she wouldn’t like whatever she saw.
Quinn was flying directly toward her, his eyes blazing with protective fury; then a dragon of striped green appeared behind him. Just as Quinn, sensing his presence, glanced back, the dragon hit Quinn across the head with his tail. Quinn stumbled immediately, the fire dimming in his gaze as he fell toward the earth.
It could have been a feint. Sara hoped.
She couldn’t watch him tumble. If Quinn recovered, she didn’t want her attacker to be aware of it. She forced herself to look at the golden Pyr, even as she prayed for Quinn.
“Oops.” Her attacker sighed with false regret. “It’s so important to check one’s mirrors, don’t you think?”
“That’s not funny.” Sara backed away, knowing her own future was looking grim.
His eyes narrowed to hostile slits. “I don’t think we have to worry about any interruptions now, although I must say that I’m disappointed. A good long battle is always more satisfactory to win.” He winked. “But maybe Quinn should have taken the time to learn more from me than he did. Ah well. I hope you’ve said your prayers, Sara.”
Before she could answer, he reared back and filled his chest.
This didn’t look good.
The fire came like a wall of flames. There was nowhere to go to evade it. Sara was already backed into the corner. She cried out and fell against the stone, putting her arms across her face. The fire was vivid orange, so bright she squeezed her eyes shut, so hot that she smelled the hairs on her arms singe.
“I think not,” interjected a familiar voice with a faintly British inflection. “It is inappropriate to fry the Seer.”
Sara found herself scooped up and tossed over the lip of the railing. She’d gone from the frying pan to the fire, so to speak. She was falling toward the ground, her singed skirt ruffling around her knees.
Then she really did scream.
Sara’s scream pulled Quinn from the lip of unconsciousness. His fear for her mustered his strength, made it possible for him to regain his flying rhythm. He awakened, changed course a dozen feet above the ground, and lunged skyward out of pure instinct.
He saw Sara’s falling body and adjusted his course, snatching her out of the air in midflight.
She gasped but clutched at him instinctively. Her eyes were wide with fear and he felt her relief when she realized who had saved her from death.
“Quinn!” she breathed. “You’re all right!”
Quinn didn’t answer. He flew with all the power he could summon. It was good that he had turned dragonfire on that Slayer; he needed every increment of power he had, and more.
His urge to see Sara safe was primal and undeniable. He held her close, cradling her against his pounding heart with one claw as he spiraled skyward.
He wanted his mate away from the Slayers, away from Erik, away from everyone and anyone inclined to injure her. He felt her tremble against him and only now could acknowledge the depth of his own fear.
He heard someone take a blow, heard the keening cry of a dying Pyr, but knew his priorities.
He should never have moved without ensuring that it was safe.
He should have learned years ago that traps were set and that fools sprang them.
He should have known better.
It was only when he reached a great height that Quinn paused to look back. The air was a bit cooler at this altitude and the stars seemed close enough to touch. A few clouds gathered in the distance. Ann Arbor spread beneath them and the fields beyond seemed to stretch to the horizon. There was no one else close to them and Quinn relaxed slightly.
Sara glanced down. Her fingers tightened on Quinn and her skirt fluttered against his scales. “Don’t let go,” she said, a thread of humor in her tone.
“Never,” Quinn said softly, feeling her shiver when he tightened his grip upon her.
She looked down then and he admired her resilience once again. “It looks like a quilt,” she said quietly and leaned her cheek against his chest with a sigh. “I thought you were dead.”
“I had that feeling myself.”
He felt the fight slip from her and felt her quiver again. Then he felt her thinking. He assumed she was reviewing what she had witnessed and in a way she was, but her words surprised him.
“They planned that, you know,” she said against his chest, her tone surprisingly matter of fact.
“What do you mean?”
“They divided up, to distract you and Erik and Erik’s friend while the other one attacked me. They had a plan. They worked as a team.”
That might have been true, but Quinn didn’t care. “Fortunately it didn’t work. Were you hurt?”
“I think I’m going to have a bit of sunburn on my arms, but otherwise, no.” She looked up, her gaze filled with concern. “You?”
“Scorches and bruises.”
She smiled and touched the gash the malachite Slayer had left on his temple. Her gaze flicked over him and he guessed that he had several other wounds. “No big deal?”
Quinn was dismissive. “I’ve had worse.”
“I’ll bet.” There was admiration in her eyes and her hands ran over his scaled flesh lightly. He had the sense that she was familiarizing herself with his dragon form and he was glad, even if her caress awakened a heat that was very distracting. “It’s impressive to watch you fight.”
“I’ve done a bit of it in my time.”
They gazed at each other as the firestorm danced along Quinn’s veins. Sara’s eyes changed color as she stared at him, turning to a molten gold that only fed Quinn’s desire. He wondered how light and bright they would become when she was more aroused, or when she climaxed, and he wanted to find out.
Immediately.
She touched his scales in wonder, then rapped her knuckles on them. “I thought they’d be cold. They look like metal.” Before Quinn could answer, she frowned and fingered a spot over his heart. Her touch made him flinch. “There’s a damaged one here.”
“Yes.” Quinn was tense, disliking that she had found his vulnerability so easily.
“Why?”
“Shit happens,” he said, trying to make a joke.
Sara didn’t smile. She studied him, obviously aware that that wasn’t the whole story, but Quinn wasn’t inclined to enumerate his weaknesses.
Not now. Not when he’d been so close to losing.
Again.
“Look,” he said, distracting her with the flurry of activity at the bell tower below.
The malachite green Slayer and the topaz yellow Slayer were hoisting the corpse of the garnet red Slayer between them. Quinn’s eyes narrowed as a golden Slayer tumbled from the bell tower, his flight erratic. He flew down to the other pair, moving as if he were in pain, and helped them hoist the body of the emerald and gold Pyr who had fought with Erik.
An onyx and silver Pyr emerged from the bell tower as if he would intervene. The three Slayers launched a torrent of dragonfire in his direction when he might have pursued them, and he fell back with obvious reluctance, but only after his third attempt. He watched as the Slayers flew in pursuit of their departed leader, then began a quick ascent toward Qui
nn.
Erik was angry, there was no doubting that, even at a distance.
“We’re going to have company,” Sara said, but Quinn was watching the golden dragon retreat. He couldn’t be sure at this distance but there was something familiar about the way the Slayer moved. And his coloring was distinctive, with that flicker of tiger eye. Could there be two with scales of that unusual hue?
Had Ambrose had a son, one who had turned to the Slayer side?
“It was Erik who saved me, you know,” Sara said quietly. “I recognized his voice.”
“That makes no sense,” Quinn said impatiently.
“You might be wrong about him.”
“Didn’t he also toss you over the rail?”
“It worked out all right,” Sara protested.
“He couldn’t have anticipated that. He might have been trying to kill you himself.”
“I don’t know,” Sara mused, but Quinn didn’t listen. She didn’t know the whole story and he didn’t have the time—or the inclination—to share it all with her.
First things first.
Quinn held his position, letting Erik come to him, even if Erik was looking for trouble. He was impressed that the other Pyr flew quickly and wasn’t out of breath when he reached them. His gaze flicked over Sara, then darted over the wound on Quinn’s brow.
Quinn expected a challenge to a blood duel and had already decided to let the coin fall if it was tossed, but Erik was terse.
He also spoke aloud, presumably for Sara’s benefit. “It’s past time we talked,” he said succinctly. “I’ll send the others out to beguile; then we’ll convene in my hotel suite in an hour.”
“I don’t need to talk to you,” Quinn said.
Erik spared Quinn a cold look. “I’ve lost a good man on your account. We can duel or we can talk.”
“Maybe a blood duel would be better.”
“Maybe there aren’t enough of us that we can afford to fight each other over every little thing.” Erik’s gaze sharpened, but Quinn wasn’t easily intimidated. He glared right back. “It would be smarter not to make me regret choosing for the greater good.”
Erik didn’t wait for an answer, just dove toward the earth once more. He landed gracefully, shifting to human form right before he touched down. Four men emerged from the shadows to quickly join him. He seemed to give instructions and they departed in different directions. With a parting glance skyward, as if he would remind Quinn not to defy him, Erik strode away.
“I think you’ve been told,” Sara said and Quinn snorted. “Are you going to go?”
Quinn was tempted to defy Erik, but he was aware of Sara’s disapproval. “You’ll be happier if I listen to what he has to say, won’t you?”
“It never hurts to learn more.”
“Then I’ll go.”
Sara fanned her hands across his chest, smoothing her fingertips across his scales. “I’d like to hear it, too, Quinn.”
He gazed down at her, hiding nothing. He felt her catch her breath at the full blaze of protectiveness that he knew had to be in his eyes, but she needed to know that he would do his best. “I’m not letting you out of my sight again. You’ll be there.”
She smiled a little. “Am I a possession or a partner?”
He was riled up, not interested in nuance. “Does it matter? Both need protecting.”
“But one has more of a say in her fate than the other.”
He knew he spoke with force and he didn’t care. “I will not leave you alone and in danger, not until the Slayers retreat.”
Sara held his gaze without trepidation. “And maybe not even then,” she said wryly. Quinn was prepared to argue with her, but she shook her head. “I’m not challenging you.” She glanced down at the ground, surveyed him, then met his gaze. He liked the humor that danced in her eyes, which had become sparkly green. “It’s just been one hell of a day. I think I’ve used up my ten impossible things before breakfast for the next month.”
Quinn chuckled. He couldn’t help it. “Fair enough,” he agreed amiably, then turned earthward again. “So, we have an hour. Any requests?”
“A shower and a change of clothes,” Sara said firmly.
“Your house,” Quinn guessed and at her nod, he descended to his truck. She was quiet and he assumed she was trying to make sense of what she had seen.
He was both right and wrong about that.
Sara was glad to stay with Quinn. There was no mistaking his protective fury, and she liked it just fine. When there were dragons to be fought, who better to do the dirty work than a dragon of her own?
Sara was still trying to accept the fact that she’d witnessed a battle between dragons, right in Ann Arbor. She was still shaking inside from her encounter with the golden dragon, but the redness rising on her arms proved that she hadn’t imagined him. Within moments, she was seated in Quinn’s black truck and he was driving to her apartment, just as if life was perfectly normal.
She realized as he parked at the curb in front of Magda’s house that she hadn’t given him directions.
“How did you know where I lived?”
Quinn, typically, didn’t duck her question. Sara liked how direct he was. He spared her a glance as he turned off the engine. “I followed you home last night, to make sure that you got here.”
“I didn’t see you.”
“You weren’t supposed to.”
She folded her arms across her chest but before she could argue with him, Quinn sighed and shoved a hand through his hair. He looked so frustrated that it was impossible to be angry with him. “I didn’t want you to think you had a stalker.”
“Another one, you mean. I saw that guy outside my window this morning. Watching.”
Quinn nodded, unsurprised. “I figured as much.”
Sara had to ask. “Did you hang around last night?”
“No. I didn’t want to frighten you.”
Sara sensed that there was something he wasn’t telling her. “You just left me alone and undefended, even knowing what you knew?”
Quinn watched her as he smiled the slow smile that melted her resistance to him. “Who said you were undefended?” He got out of the truck then, and came around to open the door for her. His expression was grim as he looked up and down the street, wary for any sign that they had been pursued.
“Do you think they’ll come after us again so soon?”
“No. But that might just mean that it’s what they will do.”
“So, how was I defended last night? Or is that a secret?”
“It’s no secret. The question is whether or not you’ll believe me when I tell you.”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“You can’t see what I do.” Quinn dropped to one knee at the base of the steps to Sara’s apartment and moved his hand as if he could feel something. “Maybe you can feel it.”
“Feel what?”
“My smoke. It’s a territory mark.”
Quinn guided Sara’s hand and she felt a definite chill as he pushed her fingers through the air just above her ankles. She shivered and met his gaze, only to find him smiling at her again. “You can feel it.”
“It’s cold and almost slippery. You did that?”
Quinn nodded. “We protect our lairs by encircling them with our own smoke. It’s something that takes time, because it’s best to exhale the entire circle in one stream. It’s almost meditative, but another Pyr cannot cross the line of smoke without the permission of the Pyr who created the mark.”
Sara liked the idea of Quinn having put a protective barrier around her. Especially as it had worked. She looked around the house, peering at the foundation in an effort to see the smoke. She couldn’t. “So, you marked my house as your territory last night?”
“It seemed the best choice, to protect you without spooking you.”
Sara climbed the stairs, thinking. “And when you left my shop today?” She glanced over her shoulder in time to catch Quinn’s smile. “You marked my shop as your te
rritory, too?”
“What else could I do? And didn’t it work?”
“Why don’t you breathe smoke around me? It would take less…” Sara got no further before Quinn shook his head, dismissing the idea.
“I can’t mark people, only physical territories.” He met her gaze when she paused to fit her key into the lock, and his eyes were vibrantly blue. “Maybe that’s the difference between partners and possessions.”
Sara smiled, then thought of something else. “At the bell tower. You did it again.”
Quinn was immediately disgusted with himself. “I didn’t finish. There wasn’t time. I hadn’t explained to you about the smoke so I had to make the circle bigger, so that you couldn’t inadvertently step through it.”
“Humans can cross the boundary?”
“They’re oblivious to it.”
“And Pyr in human form?”
“Pyr is Pyr.” Quinn spoke with resolve. “A Pyr who crossed a territory line would suffer physical injury.”
Sara thought of the golden dragon easing along the parapet. “Was there a gap?”
Quinn nodded, obviously annoyed with himself.
“It’s not your fault.”
“Then whose fault is it?” he demanded, leaving himself no excuse. “It’s my job to defend you and I failed. I don’t have to be cheerful about it.”
“That golden Slayer was stepping through the break,” she said, understanding his behavior now. “He was looking for it.”
“He probably sensed that the circle was incomplete,” Quinn admitted. “The closed ring has a kind of resonance.”
“You can hear it as well as see it?”
“Pyr have very keen senses.”
“Because you’re in tune with the four physical elements,” Sara guessed. “What does it sound like?”
Quinn folded his arms across his chest and leaned back against her apartment door. They were in the foyer, the door locked behind them, and she watched him search for a description. She liked that he took her questions seriously, and never acted as if they were crazy.
“When I approach someone else’s mark, I can hear it as well as see it and feel it. It has a silvery sound, like a crystal bell. A warning sound. When I examine my own mark, I can tell whether it’s undisturbed by the temperature and the sound. And I can see it, of course, and check whether it’s worn thin in any places.”
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