Kiss of Fire

by Deborah Cooke

  “There they are,” Niall said.

  “They see us already,” Rafferty said as the Slayers changed direction.

  Quinn was only aware of how far it was to Ann Arbor. He was glad that Sara was light. He drew on his reserves and his determination and flew steadily toward Ann Arbor. Sara spoke to him, but he couldn’t spare the energy to answer her.

  She watched him with concern, her gaze trailing to his deadened foot, and he was afraid she’d ask one of her perceptive questions.

  Later.

  She could ask him anything later.

  What she said surprised him completely.

  “Can one of you breathe fire on Quinn?” she called to the others. “He needs it.”

  The other two Pyr appeared to be shocked by the idea. “I don’t think so,” Niall argued, obviously insulted at the notion of injuring a fellow Pyr.

  Quinn knew otherwise. Sara’s idea was brilliant.

  “No, she’s right,” he interjected. “Dragonfire strengthens me.”

  “Because you’re the Smith,” Rafferty mused.

  The two exchanged a glance, Rafferty’s gaze falling on Quinn’s injured leg. He must have been holding it awkwardly but didn’t have the strength to do more than let it dangle.

  “Lift your mate high,” Rafferty counseled in old-speak and Quinn swung Sara’s knees up into his arms. Rafferty and Niall exchanged a nod, then the pair of them breathed dragonfire on Quinn’s left side.

  It was a jolt of adrenaline, sending power through Quinn’s veins.

  “More!” Quinn demanded.

  “Please,” Sara added.

  Both Pyr let loose another stream of fire. Quinn arched his back with pleasure as new power swept through him. He could feel his toes. He could flex his foot again. The other two were awed. Quinn laughed at how invigorated he felt and caught Sara closer as he soared high. His mate had known what he needed.

  The three Pyr set a killing pace for Ann Arbor and soon left their Slayer pursuers far behind.

  “Wimps,” Niall said with disdain.

  Rafferty simply watched their diminishing shapes, his eyes narrowed. The thunder rumbled as the storm rolled closer. The humidity had increased to the level that it was difficult to breathe, but Quinn felt several centuries younger.

  “That was brilliant,” he breathed for Sara’s ears alone and she smiled in her relief.

  “It was the logical choice,” she said and he wanted to laugh again. They understood each other. They were both practical and could fill the gap when one was overwhelmed. Theirs was a partnership, Quinn felt, that would be beneficial to both of them and make both of them stronger.

  “Where to, princess?”

  She tipped back her head and met his gaze, her own fearless and steady. “Home,” she said with resolve. “With you.” She stretched up to whisper to him. “I understand there’s a firestorm that needs tending.”

  The prospect sent a heat wave through Quinn and he knew exactly how he wanted to spend this night. In bed, with his mate, coaxing and sampling the firestorm. He was raging with desire, but for Sara alone, and he knew theirs would be a mating to remember.

  One glance at the golden hue of her eyes and he knew their thoughts were as one. If that wasn’t enough to encourage him to fly faster, he didn’t know what was.

  Chapter 12

  The Wyvern closed her eyes. The Slayers had hurt her again, and in so doing, had inadvertently revealed their plans to her. She understood that she was the bait in the trap set for the Pyr.

  Sophie understood that she might not survive the conflict, but she was at ease with that possibility now. All had changed on this day. The Wyvern would always be reborn and reappear on earth for the Pyr. She was important to them as a beacon of hope, but in this moment, others were more critical to their success.

  Specifically, the Pyr needed the Smith and the Seer.

  They needed this Smith and this Seer.

  And encountering that destined pair had given Sophie her own source of hope. She had met the Seer and been impressed by Sara’s strength. She had seen the Smith come in defense of his mate and felt the power of his devotion. She knew that the foretold union could be forged between those two, if only they overcame the obstacles they themselves had set. She liked to think that her comments to the Seer would help with that.

  She let herself doze, let herself slide into the dreaming place. The Smith commanded earth and fire, whether he knew it or not, bringing the persistent power of earth and the passion of fire to all he touched. The Seer held the reins of water and air, again whether she knew it or not, bringing the intuitive understanding of water and the cold reason of air to every puzzle she encountered. The four elements would join with their union and create a greater fusion of their abilities.

  A child would be a bonus.

  The Wyvern breathed slowly as the thunder rumbled high above the cabin. She let her thoughts float above the dark clouds, into the night sky, up to the stars. She caught a beam of starlight and focused her will upon it.

  Now that she had met the Seer, Sophie had Sara’s scent. She could send the other woman the dream she needed to have. There was something about Quinn Tyrrell that Sara Keegan needed to know. It would allow her to give him the chance he didn’t even know he wanted.

  Yet.

  At Quinn’s direction, the Pyr landed in a small park near Sara’s home. Storm clouds were gathering in the west and rolling steadily closer. The air was thick with humidity and a distant crackle of electricity.

  Quinn was impressed again by how smoothly Niall and Rafferty shifted shape, so adept that there was no glimpse of their nudity. One minute, there were three dragons descending out of the sky; a heartbeat later, three fit men in jeans and T-shirts stood chatting with Sara in the shade of the trees.

  “How do you conjure your clothes so smoothly?” Quinn asked.

  “It’s all in the wrist,” Niall said with a smile.

  “How do you do it at all?” Sara asked.

  “It’s a mental trick,” Quinn explained. “You fold away your clothes as you shift, folding them smaller and smaller, then tuck them somewhere on your person.”

  “Why?” she asked.

  Quinn smiled. “Because you’ll probably need them again.”

  “Where do you hide them?” she asked but Rafferty shook his head.

  “Don’t share all your secrets, Smith.”

  “Even with my mate?” Quinn protested but Rafferty was stern.

  “Who taught you to hide your clothes?”

  “Ambrose, but I could obviously use more practice.”

  “It’s not practice you need but instruction. The way you were taught to do it leaves you vulnerable.”

  Quinn stared at the other Pyr. “How so?”

  Rafferty smiled. “He neglected to tell you that you have to hide them not only on your person, but that where you store them should remain secret. Anyone can be tortured into revealing the secrets of another. It’s better to keep such matters to oneself. Safer.”

  Ambrose had taught Quinn only half the truth. His old friend was seeming less and less like an ally with everything Quinn learned.

  “Why?” Sara asked Rafferty.

  “There is an old story that a Pyr who loses track of his clothing while in dragon form will not be able to shift back to human form.”

  “So, the location of the clothes needs to be a secret,” Sara concluded. “That way, you can’t be betrayed.”

  “Or it needs to change constantly,” Niall amended.

  “Is the story true?” Sara asked.

  Rafferty smiled. “No one, including me, particularly wants to find out.”

  “Thank you,” Quinn said to Rafferty. “Thank you for setting me straight, and also for helping me today.”

  “It was our responsibility to one of our kind,” Niall said, his words making it clear to Quinn that others expected him to show the same responsibility.

  “It was our obligation to aid the firestorm,” Raffe
rty said quietly. Quinn took Sara’s hand in his and noticed again how hungrily the other Pyr watched the spark dance between them. The thunder rumbled as the storm came closer. A flash of lightning was illuminated against the slate clouds, although the sound of its impact was distant.

  With Sara’s hand held fast in his, he was aware of a different storm rising. She stood closely beside him, and there was dirt on her hands and her knees. Her hair was loose and her left bra strap had slipped to her upper arm. She was disheveled and probably didn’t like it, but he knew he’d never found a woman so alluring.

  It was the sweet hot smile she cast his way when she felt the weight of his gaze that clinched it. His heart contracted tightly with relief that she was safe.

  For the moment. Quinn was aware that the situation probably wouldn’t last. “How’d they take you?” he asked and she frowned.

  “I don’t know. I went with them. I had no choice.”

  “Beguiled,” Niall said and spat at the ground. “It’s not right.”

  “They had flames in their eyes,” Sara mused.

  “That’s beguiling,” Quinn confirmed. “It’s like hypnosis.”

  Sara got her stubborn look. “You have to teach me how to defend myself against it.” Quinn wasn’t sure what to say.

  “It can be done, Smith. I have heard the song and would teach your mate.” Rafferty sighed, then forced a smile. “There are many things we could teach each other, mysteries neither of us understood could be unraveled.”

  “What could I teach you?”

  “How to not only take dragonfire but draw strength from it.” Rafferty spared Quinn a sharp glance. “How’s your leg?”

  “Fine, thanks to both of you.” Quinn pulled up the cuff of his jeans, showing his leg healed.

  “What would it have looked like otherwise?” Sara asked.

  Niall grimaced. “Burned.”

  “No, more shriveled and lifeless,” Rafferty said, then shuddered. “Smoke is nasty stuff. It sucks the life from any part of a Pyr it touches, leaving only a hollow, twisted shell.”

  Sara shivered.

  Rafferty looked at Quinn’s leg again, his wonder obvious. “That’s a trick that I wish you could teach us, Smith.”

  Quinn frowned. “I think that would be similar to your explaining how you made the earth part, or Niall telling us how to listen to the wind.” The other Pyr nodded, accepting the impossibility of that.

  “We each have our gifts,” Niall agreed.

  “But wait,” Sara interjected. “Aren’t you Pyr supposed to command all of the elements? What if each of you has a tendency in one direction or another, but you can all learn to command all of the elements?”

  There was a beat of silence as the three Pyr considered each other and her suggestion.

  “That would be incredible,” Niall said slowly.

  “But it makes a lot of sense.” Quinn was excited by the possibility.

  “I don’t see why it wouldn’t work,” Rafferty mused.

  “We’d be invincible,” Niall said wistfully.

  “We’d have to work together,” Quinn agreed, seeing the benefit of the exchange. They would all be stronger.

  “If we could learn each other’s skills in time,” Rafferty sighed. “It’s too bad we didn’t think of this earlier. The final battle has obviously begun, just as Erik anticipated. I’ve seen more Slayers and battles in the past two days than in two centuries.”

  “It would be good to have the Smith with us in this war,” Niall said, glancing at Quinn.

  Quinn felt the burden of their expectation, yet at the same time, he couldn’t trust Erik. It was more than the death of Ambrose—or the supposed death of Ambrose—Erik had been present a little too often at crises in Quinn’s life for Quinn to accept the other Pyr’s interest as benign.

  He felt the presence of Elizabeth’s ghost and feared for his mate. He felt Sara watching him and was aware that she had a few expectations of her own.

  “You’ve forgotten something,” she said and Quinn was startled even though she spoke softly. Her eyes were wide and clear. “You thought Ambrose was your friend, but that’s only because you forgot how you met.”

  “I remember how we met,” Quinn replied. “He bought me…”

  “No, he challenged you, but you didn’t understand it.” Sara was so sure of herself that she had the undivided attention of the other two Pyr. “Didn’t he throw the coin directly at you? It bounced off your hands and the magistrate took it as payment, but Ambrose threw the coin at you.”

  “A challenge to a blood duel,” Niall breathed.

  Quinn blinked and looked away, astonished to realize that she was right. “How do you know this?”

  “I dreamed it.” Sara shrugged. “I dreamed of your past, probably because of the coin.” She wrinkled her nose as she looked up at him. “Are you really eight hundred years old?”

  “Yes, but that’s unimportant.” Quinn frowned even as Sara blinked. He was thinking about what she had said.

  “I thought you would deny it, or sugarcoat it.”

  “Not the Smith,” Niall joked. “He serves it straight.”

  Rafferty chuckled lightly at Sara’s surprise. “He’s too young for you,” he teased. “I’m twelve hundred years old, which is just getting respectable.”

  “Go on,” Sara said, but she didn’t sound as shocked.

  “He’s just a kid, though,” Rafferty said of Niall.

  That Pyr grinned at Sara’s enquiring glance. “Three-fifty and change. Young and energetic. These old guys lose their, um, power.” He winked and Sara’s cheeks turned pink.

  “I don’t think so,” Rafferty retorted, but didn’t get any further.

  Quinn spoke quickly to Sara. “But you never saw the coin in the arcade Tuesday night.”

  “Was that a coin?” Sara asked, then nodded. She was fitting together puzzle pieces with a dexterity that impressed him. It was amazing to watch her make the connections. “I wondered. So, he was challenging you to a blood duel again, but you didn’t catch the coin that time, either. That means it doesn’t count, right?”

  “But the intent is there,” Niall said darkly.

  “Two challenges.” Rafferty whistled through his teeth. “No wonder he’s trying to kill your mate as well. Ambrose has it in for you in a big way.”

  Quinn was more interested in the other detail Sara had revealed. “But what coin gave you the dreams?”

  Sara rummaged in her purse and produced a gold coin. “This one.” She handed it to Quinn and his heart leapt at its familiarity. He’d never thought to see the currency of Raymond-Roger Trencaval again and yet here it was, in his own hand.

  He turned the coin over in awe, the sight of it taking him back to cheerful childhood memories. Hide-and-seek with his brothers. His parents laughing. His father hammering.

  Then Quinn recalled his last day in Béziers and closed his hand over the coin as if making it disappear could change the past. He averted his gaze, the pain of an old loss tightening his throat with fearsome force.

  “It made me dream of Béziers,” Sara said. “And of the fire there.” She squeezed his fingers and her voice softened. “Your parents died, didn’t they? And you saw Erik afterward, so you thought he was responsible, but I’m not so sure.”

  Quinn glanced at the others to find Rafferty looking amused and Niall astonished.

  “She really is the Seer,” Niall whispered. “She dreams of your past and sees its import for the future.”

  “No. I’m just an accountant,” Sara corrected with a smile.

  “You can’t know what happened to me…,” Quinn began to argue, but Sara interrupted him flatly.

  “I don’t think you know, either.” She held his gaze with certainty in her own. “Erik could have killed you in Béziers, if that had been his plan. He could have killed you when he killed Ambrose, if that had been his plan. Did you confront him when Ambrose died?”

  “No. I hid while he searched for me. Then I
ran. I was sure he meant to kill me, too.”

  “But he didn’t throw a coin at you in challenge,” Niall observed. Quinn had to agree.

  Rafferty shook his head. “He would have been able to sniff you out at such close proximity. Erik is very perceptive, even for a Pyr.”

  Quinn hadn’t thought of that before.

  Sara tapped his arm with a fingertip. “You have to at least consider that his intentions are good.”

  “Ambrose taught you half of the truth,” Rafferty contributed. “He left out the important bits.”

  “How long did you travel with him?” Niall asked.

  “Two years, at most. He was generous and taught me a lot.”

  “But not enough,” Rafferty concluded.

  “But in two years, he could have killed the Smith a number of times, as well,” Niall argued.

  “I wonder whether he didn’t think you were a worthy opponent,” Sara said. “Maybe he was teaching you enough, maybe playing with you a bit, to have a more satisfactory fight in the end.”

  “But Erik killed him instead,” Quinn mused. “It would make a certain sense for Ambrose to teach me part of the truth.”

  “How so?” Rafferty asked.

  “Ambrose made his living by gambling, in those days. He would bet any man on the result of anything, and he always won.”

  “Because of his keen Pyr senses,” Rafferty said with disgust. “It’s cheating.”

  “It’s comparatively easy to read humans by their reactions,” Niall told Sara and she nodded understanding. Quinn saw that she wasn’t surprised.

  “But he would walk away from a wager he thought was too easy to win,” Quinn said. “He thought it was beneath his dignity to bet on something obvious, or to win a wager with a man who wouldn’t regret the loss. He liked to take someone’s last coin. He always said he liked a win with impact.”

  “So, he was fattening you up for the kill,” Rafferty concluded. “Nice.”

  Sara leaned against Quinn, the curve of her breast nestling against his arm. “I think it’s time you had the whole story from Erik.” She smiled, as if sensing his resistance. “It’s the only way anyone can make a good decision.”

  Quinn wasn’t at all convinced of that, but he didn’t want to argue with Sara. Not now.