“It’s always been said among our kind that humans could not bear to witness the shift in our bodies; that the sight of the change would drive humans insane,” Rafferty said. He gestured to the group. “But we stand in the company of six human women who have not been driven insane by the sight.”
“I should think not,” Eileen said.
“Not even close,” Ginger maintained.
“Maybe we’re just made of sterner stuff than the princesses and damsels in distress of old,” Melissa suggested.
“Maybe the problem is with virgins,” Alex suggested, her tone wicked. They laughed, but then Sara indicated the two small girls, Zoë and Isabelle.
“Maybe not,” she said. “Maybe times change.”
“Darkfire,” Marcus said softly, surety in his tone. The Pyr exchanged glances, and Melissa saw they didn’t entirely share Marcus’s confidence.
“Maybe we should get to work,” Quinn said. “The forge is hot.”
The air filled with a blue shimmer, one that Melissa recognized. It touched the silhouette of Quinn first, gleaming in the darkness. He shifted shape then, becoming a sapphire and steel dragon. He was large and powerful in dragon form, his musculature reflecting his human strength. He reared back and in his talons held the scale she’d brought, his eyes shining as he held it to the forge’s heat.
Donovan changed next, resplendent in lapis lazuli and silver. Erik followed suit, black as obsidian, his scales edged with pewter. Three dragons already, and more to come.
Thorolf was massive, moonstone and silver, as magnificent as a jewel. Delaney had scales of emerald, each edged in copper, and he gleamed in the fire’s light. Sloane’s dragon form was all the hues of tourmaline, shading from green to violet and back again, his scales edged in gold. Niall was amethyst and silver, glittering and powerful.
Melissa was amazed. The mates stood alongside the Pyr, proud and smart women, each and every one. Melissa could sense that, and looked forward to getting to know them better. She guessed that she’d find some very good friends in this group.
The Pyr waited then, and Melissa saw their manner was expectant.
“What am I supposed to do?” she asked.
Sara cleared her throat. “The mate, traditionally, aids in the repair of the scale.”
“How so? Should I hold it or something?”
“It can’t be repaired without a talisman to make it whole again,” Alex said.
“The token must be provided of free will,” Eileen said.
Melissa considered Rafferty, knowing that her heart was in her eyes. “I have nothing to give to you, nothing except myself. I am all yours, for better or worse.”
Rafferty smiled and extended his hand. “Shed a tear for me,” he said. “Let yourself weep for all you have endured, as you have never yet allowed yourself to do. That will be the only gift I need.”
Melissa caught her breath. She stared into the dark splendor of his eyes and realized he had seen her deepest secret; he had known how to heal her all along. This man, this incredible, tender, and romantic man, loved her. She felt blessed and knew that every day of their partnership would be an adventure.
Her tears gathered, and, once she decided not to blink them back, they fell with greater speed. She caught her breath, but Rafferty gathered her into his arms and kissed her hair.
“You’re stuck with me,” he whispered, and she nodded, her tears falling faster in recognition of that truth.
It was all she had ever wanted, and so much more.
Quinn held out the scale, and Melissa’s tears slid over it. As she watched, they dried on the hot scale, seeming to form a coating over it. The scale shimmered with new light.
Then Rafferty shifted shape with a roar. He reared back, so splendid in his opal and gold scales that Melissa couldn’t believe her luck. He reached down to her and lifted her in his embrace, holding her tenderly against his chest. He turned then to Quinn, who heated the scale until it was white-hot. Melissa could see the spot on his chest where the scale had been and didn’t like the sight of the vulnerability.
“Air,” Quinn said, as if recounting a ritual.
“That’s Melissa and her gift for communication,” Rafferty said. He and Melissa blew together on the scale, their breath making it burn even hotter.
“Earth,” Quinn said.
“That’s Rafferty’s ability to sing the songs of the earth,” Melissa said, smiling at him. They both gripped the edges of the scale.
“Fire,” Quinn said, and both he and Rafferty breathed fire on the scale. That element was obvious to Melissa. Quinn lifted the shining scale and pressed it into place. Melissa heard the skin sizzle. She smelled the flesh sear. And she felt the shudder of pain that rolled through Rafferty. It wasn’t fair that he had to suffer so. She bent and kissed the scale, her tears landing on it as it sizzled.
“Water,” Quinn said with satisfaction. “From Melissa’s empathy.”
Rafferty shifted shape then, shimmering that vivid blue and becoming the man she loved. He held her close as he smiled down at her. “And so the four elements combine to heal the scale, just as mate and Pyr join to become a union greater than the sum of the parts.”
“A destined partnership,” Melissa said.
“As long as you believe in the future,” Rafferty murmured.
“I didn’t,” she admitted, “but a wonderful man showed me how much I was wrong.” She heard the Pyr cheer as Rafferty bent and kissed her. She felt the fire in the forge leap high. She felt warm and loved and full of desire.
Exactly as if the firestorm still burned.
Melissa guessed that an ember of it always would.
Epilogue
A month after the Sleeper awakened, Melissa stood once again in the Middle East. She was with a camera crew, just like old times, but she had a new story to tell.
With the full permission of the subjects.
Daphne had had a proper funeral, once Melissa’s identification of her body had been confirmed, and many people had come to the service. There had been familiar faces from Melissa’s years overseas, as well as strangers who had followed Melissa’s news story and felt compelled to honor the murdered girl. The service had been moving, the unexpected and the traditional in precisely the right balance to suit Daphne’s character. Melissa had ensured that she was buried with that stuffed puppy.
Then Melissa had gone back to work.
Marcus was being mentored by each of the Pyr in turn. Fortunately, he was a quick study, for he’d missed a lot over the past thousand years and had never gained much mastery of his abilities. He spoke some Welsh, but his language skills were limited. Marcus was currently with Sloane in California. He seemed to have an understanding of plants and their rhythms, and was helping Sloane with his herb nursery while Sloane mentored him. He was also strikingly handsome, and Melissa knew he attracted the attention of many women.
Melissa and Rafferty had exchanged vows in the garden of Melissa’s brother’s home in California. It had been a perfect day; one she would remember forever. She had treasured the gift of having those she loved around her, sharing in her joy.
And Rafferty, well, Rafferty’s companionship became more addictive every day. Even without the firestorm or the darkfire, the man stirred her very soul.
The paperwork had come through in record time for Isabelle to be formally adopted by Rafferty and Melissa, so the little girl had joined their household. She never spoke about Sophie anymore, and she seemed confused when asked about her encounter with Rafferty at the church. Rafferty was certain she’d forgotten, but Melissa wasn’t convinced. Sometimes she found Isabelle staring into space, lost in another time and place. The rest of the time, though, she was a normal, affectionate, busy five-year-old.
Isabelle had had a blast with Melissa’s niece and nephews in California, and they were planning some family vacations together. Her brother was still hot to see inside Rafferty’s warehouses in London, so Melissa anticipated they’d have company at
Rafferty’s London house soon.
For the moment, though, she had carte blanche with Doug. She’d negotiated to tell this story her way, and was excited about the result. She’d also negotiated with Erik, who had decided that the Pyr could tell their story, so long as none of them were named or revealed in their human form.
It was sunset, Melissa’s favorite time of day, and the ground hovered between the gold of the last rays of the sun and deep blue shadows. The sky was indigo in the east and filled with stars. The western sky was painted with lighter shades of blue, a swath of green, and a brilliant orange smudge that surrounded the glowing orb of the setting sun. The light was a great, rich gold, one that contrasted with strong shadows.
Melissa was wearing a white linen dress, the mic hidden inside her bra. She walked the sand-covered stones of an ancient fort, knowing the camera was following her. She reviewed the script she’d memorized as she heard Doug through the earpiece mounted behind her ear. She knew she was doing what she’d been born to do. She counted off the seconds, knowing the camera would pan the sky and the horizon.
“And on you,” Doug murmured.
Melissa straightened to scan the distance herself.
“Perfect, perfect,” Doug murmured. “Closing in, and turn to us.” Melissa did as she was told. “And you’re on.”
“Hello. I’m Melissa Smith, and I’m here to tell you a surprising story.” Melissa spoke with confidence and verve. “It’s a story that began here, centuries ago, in the fertile crescent between the Euphrates and the Tigris rivers. It’s a story of another kind of creature, one with a history entwined with our own.
“We humans have always told stories of dragons—these tales exist in every culture of the world—and the reason for that is simple. There are dragons among us. We have known them before. We hunted them almost to extinction, so they hid themselves from us. But the time has come for us to join forces and work together, to combine our skills and energy to save the earth. The time has come to meet the dragons in our midst.”
Melissa turned and climbed a trio of worn steps, knowing the camera was following her perfectly. “Just as we tell stories about dragons, they also tell stories to one another. It’s not the only thing we have in common. Let’s start at the beginning, with the story they tell of their own creation. It’s a story that has some elements you’ll find familiar. This is the dragons’ story.”
She held her position, and Doug murmured that the camera was closing in. Melissa looked straight into the lens, as if looking straight into the eyes of every viewer.
“In the beginning, there was the fire, and the fire burned hot because it was cradled by the earth. The fire burned bright because it was nurtured by the air. The fire burned lower only when it was quenched by the water. And these were the four elements of divine design, of which all would be built and with which all would be destroyed. And the elements were placed at the cornerstones of the material world, and it was good.”
Melissa heard Doug’s instruction to the cameraman to pan back a bit. She raised her hands as she continued.
“But the elements were alone and undefended, incapable of communicating with one another, snared within the matter that was theirs to control. And so, out of the endless void was created a race of guardians whose appointed task was to protect and defend the integrity of the four sacred elements. They were given powers, the better to fulfill their responsibilities; they were given strength and cunning and longevity to safeguard the treasures surrendered to their stewardship. To them alone would the elements respond.
“These guardians were—and are—the Pyr.”
Melissa stood back and turned to look at the horizon. Her heart leapt at the sight of Rafferty in his dragon form, flying toward her. His wings beat lazily, his opal scales glinting in the light of the setting sun. He was magnificent, powerful, and beautiful, like a jeweled treasure come to life.
And he was her mate.
“God, the camera loves this guy,” Doug breathed, and Melissa fought a smile. The camera wasn’t alone in that.
Rafferty turned with easy grace, then spiraled down to land elegantly beside Melissa. He flapped his wings; he coiled his tail; he looked into the camera with those glinting eyes; and he exhaled a small stream of dragonfire.
The Covenant, Erik’s new decree and part of the compromise with Melissa, insisted that Rafferty could reveal himself only in dragon form, and he could not speak to humans while in that form.
Melissa turned to the camera again. “The Pyr, ancient dragons, reveal themselves with a message for our kind. As guardians of the earth, they count humans among the earth’s treasures that they are committed to protecting. But we have put the earth in peril, just as we once imperiled the Pyr. We need to change our ways, to help defend the gift of this earth instead of destroying it. Come with me as we visit the elements, each in its turn. Come with me to learn how we can join forces with the Pyr and make our world a better place.”
Melissa turned to Rafferty. He reared back, arching his neck and displaying the scaled beauty of his chest. His tail slid across the earth, stirring the dust. He reached out a glittering talon to Melissa, and she put her hand on his claw. She smiled at the camera with complete confidence, then stepped into his embrace.
He caught her close, roared, then soared into the darkening sky with her in his grasp. Melissa laughed as the wind danced around them, flicking her skirt and running through her hair. She felt alive and powerful as she never had before. She was optimistic in a way she’d never imagined she’d be again.
It was because of Rafferty and the gift he brought to her, the gift of his faith in the future. They soared into the sky together, and she saw stars appear far overhead.
“Cut!” Doug said in her ear, and she could imagine his nod of satisfaction. “Now that’s television.”
For the moment, Melissa didn’t care. She was with Rafferty, facing a future she’d never dared to dream about, and that was all that mattered.
She had a future to believe in, all over again.
A future with Rafferty.
She couldn’t imagine a better one.
* * *
Can’t get enough of dragons?
Take a peek at the first book in
Deborah Cooke’s new series about
the next generation of the Pyr
The Dragon Diaries: Flying Blind
Coming in trade paperback from
New American Library in June 2011.
* * *
Thursday April 4, 2024—Chicago
There was a guy in my bedroom.
It was six in the morning and I didn’t know him.
I’m not much of a morning person, but that woke me up fast. I sat up and stared, my back pressed against the wall, sure my eyes had to be deceiving me. No matter how much I blinked, though, he was still there.
He seemed to think my reaction was funny.
He had dark hair and dark eyes, and he wasn’t wearing a shirt. Just jeans—and he had one heck of a sixpack. His arms were folded across his chest and a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
But he seemed insubstantial. I could see through him, right to the crowded bulletin board behind him.
Was he real?
I was going to try asking him but he abruptly faded, faded and disappeared right before my eyes.
As if he’d just been an illusion. I jumped from the bed, then reached into that corner. My fingers passed through a chill, one cold enough to give me goose bumps. Then my hand touched a pushpin holding a wad of drawings, and everything was perfectly normal.
Except for the hair standing up on the back of my neck.
I took a deep breath and looked around. My room was the pit it usually is. There were some snuffed candles on my desk and bookshelves, a whiff of incense lingering in the air, and the usual mess of discarded sweaters and books all over the floor.
No sign of that guy. If I hadn’t seen him, if I’d woken up two minutes later, I wouldn’t have thought
anything was wrong at all.
I shuddered one last time and headed for the shower. Halfway there, I wondered, Had Meagan’s plan worked?
The visioning session had been my best friend’s idea. Her mom calls herself a holistic therapist, which makes my mom roll her eyes. I was skeptical too, but didn’t have any better ideas. And Meagan, being the best friend ever, had really pulled out all the stops. She’d brought candles and mantras and incense for my room, and even though I’d felt silly, I’d followed her earnest instructions.
When the candles had burned down and she’d left—and my mom had shouted that I should open a window—I’d been pretty sure it hadn’t worked. Nothing seemed to have happened.
But now I didn’t know what to think. Who had that guy been? Where had he come from? And where had he gone?
Or had I just imagined him? I think if I was going to imagine a guy in my bedroom, it wouldn’t be one who thought I was funny when I wasn’t trying to be, never mind one that didn’t kind of creep me out.
I’d have imagined Nick there.
In fact, I frequently did.
I heard my mom in the kitchen and my dad getting the newspaper, and knew I had to get moving. I did my daily check in the bathroom, but nada. No boobs. No blood.
Four more zits.
At its core, then, the visioning session had failed.
I’m probably not the only fifteen-and-a-half-yearold girl who’d like to get the Puberty Show on the road. Even Meagan had gotten her period last year, which was why she was trying to help. But my best friend didn’t know the half of it.
That was because of the Covenant. I couldn’t confide in Meagan because I’d had to swear to abide by the Covenant of our kind. I come from a long line of dragon shape shifters—Pyr, we call ourselves—and we pledge not to reveal ourselves in dragon form to humans.
That would include Meagan.
And we teenage Pyr had to pledge to the Covenant after Nick tried to impress the twin girls living next door, and his dad caught him.
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