Fire Maidens: Paris

by Anna Lowe

  “My poor darling. Let me help you,” Jacqueline murmured, making his blood go cold.

  She wasn’t going to help him. She was going to kill him, then Natalie.

  “Stop right there,” Natalie cried.

  Jacqueline ignored her, reaching for Tristan. Her hands turned to claws, and excitement flashed in her eyes. The thrill of a kill, Tristan knew.

  He threw up a hand in defense and croaked, “Natalie, run.”

  But Natalie didn’t run, dammit. Her face turned crimson, and she stalked up behind Jacqueline.

  “I said, stop!”

  Jacqueline turned, laughing. “Seriously?”

  “Seriously,” Natalie whispered, raising the sword. “I mean it.”

  But Jacqueline turned her back, tossing a hand as if to say, I knew she didn’t have it in her. Then her eyes narrowed on Tristan, and he figured he was about a minute away from dying at the hands of the woman who’d caused him so much grief.

  Jacqueline’s claws reached for him. Natalie swung the sword, uttering a final warning. A warning Jacqueline didn’t heed, and a split second later—

  Jacqueline’s eyes went wide, and her shoulders jerked against the impact of the sword. The vial she clutched shattered against the flagstone floor. Natalie winced but hung on, and seconds later…

  “You bitch…” Jacqueline whispered then collapsed to the ground.

  Natalie watched in horror, stumbling backward. Then she edged around Jacqueline and rushed to Tristan’s side.

  Wait. Watch out, he wanted to yell. But he couldn’t. Meanwhile, Jacqueline swayed to her feet, her eyes glowing in fury. She reached around her back, groping blindly for the sword. That blow would have killed a human, but Jacqueline’s shifter powers gave her the strength to pull it out with a scream. Then she grimaced and raised the sword, looking at Natalie.

  “Tristan…” Natalie touched his shoulder, ignorant of the danger behind her.

  A roar split the air, and it took Tristan a moment to realize that was him. The arm that pushed Natalie aside was his, too, as was the next explosion of fire. Jacqueline screamed and ducked, but Tristan had no mercy left. He kept up the blaze, reminding himself his mate’s life at stake, along with the future of Paris.

  “Stop,” Jacqueline screamed. “Stop!”

  No, he would not. Not even when Jacqueline fell to the ground, engulfed in flames. She rolled, screaming, and the sword clattered out of her grasp. Even then, Tristan kept up that lethal burst of fire.

  “Wait!” Natalie cried. “Stop!”

  He shook his head. But Natalie begged him, and something in his heart gave way. So he cut off his fire and bellowed instead.

  “Out. Get out of my sight and out of Paris. And don’t even think of returning.”

  Jacqueline rolled to her knees, moaning. “How could you?”

  He nearly hit her with another plume of fire, but Natalie touched his shoulder, and he couldn’t ignore her silent plea.

  “Go,” he barked at Jacqueline. “Before I change my mind.”

  When Jacqueline rose to her feet, Tristan almost hoped she would attempt something sneaky, giving an excuse for him to finish her off for good. But she turned and stumbled into the shadows, croaking as she went.

  “Fools. I will be back, and I will have my revenge.”

  He took a step forward, but Natalie held him back.

  “Enough.” Her voice was rough and weary as she gestured to the carnage all around. “Enough killing.”

  He wanted to protest, but Natalie was right. The sword was lying on the ground, and in its reflection, he saw one last swirl of fire. Then that, too, went out, taking the last of his energy with it.

  He slumped, aching all over. His lips were chafed, his tongue burned, his legs too tired to support him.

  Natalie bent over him, her eyes filled with tears. “Are you all right?”

  “Oui. Are you?”

  Natalie nodded, and a moment later, they swayed into a hug. Still, he pointed one shaky hand in the direction of Jacqueline’s receding footsteps.

  “She means it, you know. She will be back. Or she’ll try to seize power somewhere else.”

  Natalie nodded wearily. “I know. But there has to be a better way.”

  He cocked his head. “What way?”

  She smiled weakly. “If I’m going to be your Fire Maiden, we’ll have to find a better solution than blasting every enemy with fire.”

  He grinned. “We?”

  She nodded firmly. “We.”

  He would have loved to bask in the sound of that word for an hour or two, but footsteps sounded in the tunnel, and Natalie tensed.

  “More vampires?”

  The footsteps broke off, and a familiar voice called through the dark. “Did someone say vampires?”

  Tristan exhaled. “Liam.” Then he raised his voice and called, “You’re late. As usual.”

  Natalie’s pale face slowly filled with color when Liam strode into view. He toed a pile of ash, then whistled at the dagger within it and the carnage all around.

  “Well, it looks like Natalie is all you need. I’m more like the cleanup crew.”

  Tristan held Natalie’s hand, swelling with pride. Yes, she was amazing. Still, it would have been nice not to cut things so close.

  Dammit, you were supposed to be guarding Natalie, he barked into Liam’s mind.

  Then it hit him. Liam was playing it cool, but his hair was a mess, and his sleeves were torn. His musky scent indicated a recent shift. Apparently, Liam had been fighting, too.

  Liam’s stiff bearing hinted at hurt pride. A couple of gargoyles rushed the roof of your building, and I had my hands full with them. Make that, my claws. He flexed and straightened his fingers a few times. I had to leave my post to deal with them. If I’d known they were diverting me from the vampires…

  Tristan nodded wearily. Without Liam, things would have been twice as bad, but damn. Cleanups came with explanations, which meant he had to face Alaric. Plus, there was Jacqueline.

  The moment he murmured her name and motioned, Liam nodded and ran off. “I’m on it.”

  The last of Tristan’s energy drained away, and he sat down hard. Shifters had great regenerative power, and he could feel his body fighting away the vampire poison. That didn’t change the level of pain, though. He closed his eyes and pulled Natalie against his side. He would deal with Alaric later. Right now, all that mattered was his mate.

  “You’re really all right?” she whispered.

  He smiled. Even in this place of death, her hair smelled like flowers, and a ray of sunshine poured into his heart.

  “Of course.”

  She snorted. “Of course?”

  He nodded, quietly reveling in the healing touch of his mate. “With you, I’m always all right. It’s the rest of the world I get fed up with.”

  She chuckled softly and cupped his cheek. “Funny, I was thinking the same thing.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  As much as Tristan’s body ached, he refused to let Natalie stray from his side until they got home, where they both collapsed on the couch. He drifted in and out of consciousness for hours, letting his weary body break down the rest of the poison. When he finally woke, sunlight was slanting through the windows, indicating afternoon. Natalie was at his side, gently stroking his cheek. He’d already rested for hours, and now he was basking like a cat under her loving touch. But, hell. Who could blame him?

  Then he looked down at his ragged clothes and groaned. What a mess. Slowly, he sat up, relieved to find he wasn’t half as sore as before. But his nose wrinkled a moment later.

  “Ugh. Sorry. I need a shower.”

  Natalie shook her head. “You need to rest.”

  “I’m fine, but I’m a mess.”

  She motioned over her body. “Join the club. Even Bijou turned his nose up at me.”

  When Tristan caught sight of her cuts, bruises, and torn clothes, he pulled her into a hug.

  “Hey, I’m okay,” s
he protested.

  “Yes, but it was close,” he murmured into her hair. “Much too close.”

  They cuddled for a minute, but then her body hardened, and she slowly pulled away.

  “There’s one thing I have to know. Just one.”

  Tristan’s nerves twitched at the tone in her voice. He forced himself to nod. “Anything.”

  Natalie ran her tongue over her teeth, then spoke haltingly. “Jacqueline.” She motioned around. “Did you… I mean…” Her hands trembled in his. “Did you and she ever…”

  Tristan cursed himself as Natalie’s eyes wandered over to the bed. No, he hadn’t slept with Jacqueline, but he had to admit, it had been close. When he spoke, his voice cracked.

  “I never slept with her, Natalie. I swear. She came on hard, and I nearly fell for her…charms.” He soured, because the word didn’t fit. “But, no. We never went that far. Honestly, I have no idea why I let her get close. I figured out my mistake quickly, though. I promise you.”

  Natalie searched his eyes for a long time, and he could see the hurt in hers. Hurt that he’d even considered someone like Jacqueline. That was something he could never take away, short of traveling back in time — and not even shifters could do that. But Natalie was right to ask. They had to get that out in the open before they could move on.

  To his relief, she nodded. “Well, it took me years to figure out my mistake. With Dean, I mean.”

  “That moron didn’t deserve you,” Tristan growled.

  Natalie laughed. “You don’t even know him.”

  Still, Tristan frowned. “I just know. I’m not sure I deserve you.”

  She touched his cheek. “I could say that about you.” Then she wrinkled her nose and pushed him away gently. “But, yes, you could use a shower. Me too.”

  So they headed to the bathroom together and took the longest, most sensual, and least soldierly shower Tristan had ever indulged in. Natalie soaped his back, and he soaped hers, moving gingerly over her scrapes and bruises. Then she claimed the bar of soap and smoothed it over his front. First his chest, then his belly, and then…

  He closed his eyes, because what Natalie did to him with her hands and — sweet Jesus, her mouth — did more to cleanse his mind, body, and soul than any soap could.

  In the end, he carried her over to the bed in a rush, dripping as they went.

  “The bed will get wet,” she squeaked.

  “The bed is already a mess, and we can change the sheets later.”

  He laid her down, and that was all the talking they did for the next hour, if he didn’t count the little whimpers and soft moans of their lovemaking. The first round was hot and hard, marked by the same urgency and desperation they’d battled the vampires with. Not long after, they were at it again, taking it slow and sweet. Eventually, they sank back into the sheets, and Natalie chuckled.

  “I need another shower.”

  Briefly, Tristan considered running over to Alaric while she did. He really had to check in with the Guardians. Jaqueline was on the loose — unfortunately, she had narrowly escaped, as Liam had reported shortly afterward. The lion shifter was still kicking himself over it, but Jacqueline knew the catacombs, and she’d had enough of a lead over Liam to get away. But someday…

  Tristan’s inner dragon growled, putting a firm halt to those thoughts.

  Not leaving my mate. Not at a time like this. Are you crazy?

  No, he wasn’t. He followed Natalie back into the bathroom like a duck who’d imprinted for a lifetime, and that time was a little more business, a little less fun. Natalie traced the long scars on his chest and arms, shaking her head.

  “What a world we live in.”

  For a moment, every human injustice Tristan had ever witnessed paraded through his mind. But when Natalie hugged him, he saw blue skies…gorgeous sunsets…and the smiles of both strangers and friends. Life had its dark moments and even periods of utter despair. But hope and sunshine could come out of nowhere and make a man want to live again.

  “What a world we live in,” he echoed. A world where twists of fate could lead to love, joy, and relief.

  He stroked her long, wet hair as warm water sluiced from his body to hers. Yes, a man could definitely learn to live again, especially with his mate at his side.

  Natalie looked up at him through the steam, then smiled and waved around. “I think you have the best water heater in Paris.”

  He laughed. Not too many buildings in the city had modernized their plumbing, but his building had recently upgraded.

  “One of the few perks of the job.”

  It was a joke, but they both sobered, and Natalie took his hands. “Speaking of which…”

  He nodded wearily. She was right. They really had to talk.

  Slowly, they dried off and got dressed. Natalie wrapped herself in his robe, and Tristan pulled on some boxers. Then a soft knock sounded on the door, and Tristan froze. If that was Madame Colette, he was not letting her in.

  Then the visitor’s scent wafted in, and he relaxed. “Liam.”

  By the time he opened the door, Liam was silently disappearing around the corner, leaving a basket of food on the doorstep.

  “Merci, mon vieux,” Tristan called.

  Liam waved like it was nothing, but what struck Tristan was the wistful look on his friend’s face as he whispered, “Enjoy your mate.”

  Did Liam pine for a special someone? Did that jovial exterior hide deeper feelings inside?

  Tristan watched him go, promising himself to check on his friend.

  Later, his dragon growled. Right now…

  He turned back into the penthouse. Right now, he had a mate to take care of.

  He and Natalie made quick work of the fresh bread, cheese, and wine, then moved from the kitchen to sit on the bed.

  Tristan kissed her hand before speaking, remembering what a close call it had been. His eyes wandered over the bare apartment. During the past week, Natalie had filled that space with energy and life, but if he had lost her… He swallowed away the lump in his throat. Life would be as empty as the rooms stretching out in a long row, and the view, no matter how beautiful, would always be bleak.

  Then he turned as Bijou jumped on the bed and pranced by, holding his tail high as a flag that said, Life is good. Life is great. Then he wound himself around Natalie, purring. See? She loves me.

  Tristan smiled. Apparently, he and the little monster had one thing in common. They both loved Natalie, and she loved them back.

  Then he hesitated. So much to explain, but where to start?

  “So, about Fire Maidens…”

  She made a face. “Let me guess. They attract vampires and power-hungry jerks.”

  He squeezed her hand. “I guess so. But the blood of the ancients runs through you, giving you power.”

  Natalie made a face. “Power? I wish.”

  “You stood up to Alaric and to Jacqueline. You resisted the thrall of the vampires. Most humans can’t do that.”

  She looked at her hands, unconvinced.

  “And as for the rest… Well, call it potential. I can feel it coursing through you.”

  She ran a hand up his thigh and shot him a sultry look. “Oh, we have potential, all right.”

  He smiled then motioned at her crystal. Much as he would have loved to make steamy love for the rest of the afternoon, he had to stay focused.

  “Then there’s that. May I?”

  She dipped her chin, and he cupped the crystal in his hand. The moment he did, its glow dimmed. When he pressed it into her hand, it brightened again.

  “See? It doesn’t glow for just any dragon, Natalie.”

  “But I’m not a dragon.”

  He took a deep breath. This was it. His chance to finally say it.

  “You could be if you mate with me.”

  Her eyes widened. “I could…what?”

  He took a deep breath. “Well, technically, it wouldn’t have to be with me, but I’d like that. A lot. I mean…” Merde. H
e ran a hand through his hair. As usual, the words weren’t coming out right. “Mating with a shifter would make you a shifter too.”

  She sat perfectly still. “A dragon? Me? For real?”

  Her tone was impossible to read, and he held his breath.

  “You mean, I could fly? Breathe fire? All of those things?”

  He exhaled slightly. That sounded promising.

  Then she tapped her lips. “And I could accomplish that with any shifter? Say, Marcel? Liam?”

  Tristan’s blood heated, and he nearly roared. But Natalie chuckled and play-smacked his arm. “Hey, I was only kidding. Yes, I would love that. But mainly, I want you. You could be a human and I’d still want you. Heck, you could be a gargoyle. Even a vampire…”

  He raised an eyebrow.

  “Well, maybe not a vampire.” She laughed, then took both his hands. “Honestly, I don’t really care as long as it’s you. You’re the only one I want.”

  He kissed her hands, though he wasn’t done. “I want you, and you want me. But there are others who won’t agree. Fire Maidens aren’t supposed to mix with guys like me.”

  Bijou butted between them at that moment, accentuating his point.

  She gently moved the cat aside, then huffed. “Alaric, you mean.”

  He nodded. “Alaric and many others. They can make things…complicated for us.”

  Her face flushed, and she muttered, “I’ll show them complicated.”

  Then her eyes sparkled, and her gaze wandered to the books stacked by the couch at the opposite end of the apartment. Abruptly, she stood and handed him a surprised Bijou. Then she hurried across the apartment and came back, leafing through a huge, leather-bound volume.

  “I read something in here…”

  Bijou gave Tristan the evil eye. What are you doing, holding me?

  Tristan had no clue. But obviously, Natalie was onto something.

  The moment she sat down, Bijou sprang back into her lap, but the book was in the way, so he wound around her body instead, meowing pitifully.

  “One second, Bijou,” she murmured. “Here.” She stopped on one page and traced through the text. “Claudine d’Islay… Breselan…”

  Tristan squinted at the page, but she dropped the book a moment later and caught him in a tight hug.