by Anna Lowe
Jacqueline shrugged. “It’s called trickle-down. The wealth and power we accumulate will eventually help the poor with their own sorry lives — if they’re capable of such a thing. We create jobs and keep the economy running. The rest is up to them. But I don’t suppose you’d know much about that.” She sniffed. “You’re a warrior, Tristan, not an economist.”
“And you are?”
Jacqueline tossed her hair over her shoulder. “I’ve gone to the best schools. I have the best contacts. Whatever I don’t know, I’ll get the top advisers to help me.”
“What advisers? Who will work for a traitor like you?”
Jacqueline grinned proudly. “As I said, I have contacts.” She leaned closer, whispering as if he were in on her conspiracy. “The Lombardis. They shall be my lieutenants, and I shall be their queen.”
Tristan’s jaw dropped. He knew that power-hungry dragon clan was back in Europe after an unsuccessful bid to grab power in North America. They’d even sent Alaric a nasty message after the fire at Notre Dame, threatening to inflict similar damage on other monuments if Alaric didn’t cede power. So far, Alaric had held the Lombardis at bay, but Jacqueline could open a back door to that unscrupulous clan.
“Just as you betray Alaric, the Lombardis will betray you,” he warned.
Jacqueline laughed. “They wouldn’t dare.”
Tristan shook his head. It was madness, all of it.
But it got worse, because Jacqueline leaned closer and whispered, “Last chance.”
He frowned. Last chance to what? Run? Save Natalie? Kill Jacqueline?
“Last chance to come out on the winning side.” Jacqueline’s eyes glowed with greed. “You could be the man at my side. My personal bodyguard.”
Her eyes swept over his body with a look that revealed exactly how personal that could be.
“Forget it, Jacqueline. I’m no traitor.”
He looked at Natalie. She was the woman he had sworn to protect. The one he would sacrifice his life for.
In the corner of his eye, something flashed, and Natalie screamed, “Watch out!”
Jacqueline spat a ball of fire that flew across the chamber, barely an inch over his head.
“I said, last chance,” she screamed.
He looked up to see a monster — half human, half dragon, the features twisted in a horrific mismatch.
Usually, shifting was a quick, smooth process. But Jacqueline couldn’t shift fully in the confines of the tunnel, and she hadn’t mastered the fine art of a partial shift. Her body kept morphing back and forth. For a split second, she was a human with a grotesque, protruding snout. Then she was a dragon with painfully small eyes and minuscule ears. A moment later, those ears extended wildly, but her face was all wrong again, with massive dragon nostrils on her human face.
The vampires scattered, and pandemonium broke out. Tristan rolled, and Jacqueline chased him into one of the niches with a long blast of fire. He jumped to his feet, took a deep breath, and leaped back into the open, spraying the chamber with flames.
One of the vampires screamed as his jacket caught fire. Two others beat the flames out, while another ducked behind Jacqueline, who spat more fire. When Tristan’s flames crashed against hers, both erupted outward, crackling and hissing as the heat sought an outlet.
Tristan roared as Olivier dragged Natalie backward into a tunnel.
“Natalie!”
But calling out stopped his stream of fire, and Jacqueline let loose with another fiery volley. Tristan spat a counter flame just in time, and again, they stood locked in a ferocious battle of fire against fire. Tristan huffed with all his might, driving Jacqueline back. But she countered when he gulped for breath, and the stalemate continued.
It was madness, and nothing like a proper dragon battle. Tristan kept raising his arms, intent on taking the fight to the sky in the time-honored dragon way. But when he bumped the sides of the tunnel, he remembered that wasn’t possible.
“Dammit…”
Jacqueline cackled, and it occurred to him that she had been counting on that all along. Keeping him in tight quarters worked to her advantage, where the vampires’ nails and fangs could slash at his human body.
One of the vampires rolled, screaming horribly as flames engulfed his clothes. He kicked and screamed, then went still and collapsed into a pile of ash. Two others leaped at Tristan from opposite directions. He punched one aside, but the other raked his arm with long, pointed fingernails, leaving a stinging trail of poison in his flesh. Not enough to bring him down, but hell. Another couple injuries like that would eventually take their toll.
Tristan squinted, trying to see past the flames. Where was Olivier taking Natalie? And, crap. How could he stop Jacqueline?
Punch through her fire, his dragon shouted. Throttle her with your bare hands, and save our mate. Hurry!
“Tristan!” Natalie cried, struggling against Olivier.
He lunged to help, but the vampires leaped at him, and it was all he could do to keep them at bay. They grinned fiendishly and eyed his neck, no doubt planning to overpower him and feast on his blood. Tristan let out his dragon claws and slashed back. But it was three against one — plus Jacqueline, ready to throw flames whenever the vampires faltered. No matter how fiercely Tristan battled, he couldn’t make any headway toward the woman he loved.
Everything was a blur, but he caught glimpses of Natalie amid the onslaught of nails and teeth. Olivier held her up against his chest, pinning her arms while he bared his fangs. At first, terror colored Natalie’s face. Then hope crept in, followed by despair.
Natalie! he wanted to yell. I’m trying!
But then he caught another glimpse of Natalie, and by then, her face was twisted in anger. Anger that intensified until her eyes glowed as red as a dragon’s. At the same time, another point of light glowed at her neck — the pendant, as bright as a bulb.
Yes, he wanted to cheer. Use that inner power. Harness it.
He didn’t know what that crystal did, but it looked as ferocious as Natalie.
One of the vampires jumped at Tristan from behind, and he spun to fend it off. The next time he caught sight of Natalie, she looked frighteningly calm and determined. Her arms were pinned, but she’d managed to work one hand to her side. As she wiggled, something thin and pointy appeared. A dagger.
Her eyes met his, and a dozen conflicting emotions blazed away. Anger. Fear. Desperation. And above all, horror at what she was about to do. Natalie was a kind, gentle soul. Violence didn’t come easily to her, not even in self-defense.
Do it, he yelled, willing the words into her mind. One, two, three. Like we practiced.
The remaining vampires used the distraction to tackle Tristan from behind, and he wrestled madly. He dug his claws into their arms, but they didn’t give up, and he could feel one’s breath on his neck.
“And so the mighty dragon falls,” Olivier chuckled, glancing his way.
Tristan gritted his teeth. He had another few tricks up his sleeve, but Olivier seemed mesmerized by the idea of watching his friends sink their teeth into a dragon shifter’s neck to drink. So Tristan stalled as long as he dared. The vampires inched closer to his neck, and one murmured in glee.
“We’ll call this our appetizer.”
Now, Natalie, Tristan urged. Now or never.
Her chest rose in a deep breath, and she tightened her fingers around the dagger. Olivier didn’t notice, and neither did Jacqueline, who tut-tutted at Tristan.
“You should have joined me.”
He would rather die. And hell, he was getting awfully close.
But at exactly that moment, Natalie sprang into action. One. She snapped her hands up, gaining a little space. Two. She jabbed her elbows into Olivier’s ribs.
Hurry, his dragon yelled as the nearest vampire opened his jaws wide.
Three! Natalie whipped around, thrusting an elbow into Olivier’s face. He staggered back in surprise.
Now, run, Tristan wanted to yell.
Tristan gulped. Do it. Finish him.
Natalie’s hand trembled, but she plunged down with a vengeance, burying the dagger in Olivier’s chest.
Yes, Tristan nearly cheered.
At first, Olivier simply looked down, annoyed. Then his eyes widened in surprise at the black blood soaking his shirt, and he staggered.
“Tristan!” Natalie yelled.
He whirled, knocking away the vampire at his throat. Following up with a furious spurt of fire, he set his enemy ablaze. The vampire screamed and ran down one of the tunnels, trailing flames as he went.
The other two vampires jumped Tristan. In the whirlwind of action that followed, he caught sight of Olivier dropping to his knees. Jacqueline leaned over in surprise, then glared at Natalie. But Natalie was already leaping at the mummies suspended from the chamber wall, grabbing at…
The sword! The middle mummy was a knight, or he had been, centuries before. But that sword still glinted in the light. Tristan would have cheered, but he was too busy clawing away a vampire.
“You wouldn’t,” Jacqueline dared Natalie.
Natalie braced her feet and swung the sword back, then hesitated.
Jacqueline laughed. “Afraid to use it?”
A lick of lingering dragon fire glinted off the sword, and Natalie yelled, “Stand back.”
Summoning his last reserves, Tristan pushed one vampire away and body-checked another against the tunnel wall. Then he extended his claws and moved in.
“Die,” he roared.
There weren’t many ways to kill a vampire, but slicing its head off was one. Gory, but effective. Moments after the vampire dropped, the body crumpled and turned to ash.
Tristan spun, blinking the sweat out of his eyes. There was one vampire left. Where?
A blur ran at him, screaming like a banshee. Acting on reflex, Tristan slashed at the vampire’s neck. He missed on the first try, but not on the second, and a moment later—
“No!” Jacqueline screamed as her last accomplice went down.
Tristan caught himself a heartbeat away from stumbling. Panting wildly, he leaned against the tunnel wall, willing his vision to clear. How many enemies left?
One, he decided, now that Olivier had dropped to the ground, dead. The last survivor looked around, then turned tail and fled, the coward. Other than his receding footsteps, the catacombs fell into eerie silence.
The silence was brief, though, because Jacqueline cackled. “Bravo, Tristan. Bravo.”
Tristan gritted his teeth, trying to straighten. The poison might not kill him, but it did cloud his mind. He swayed toward Natalie, who stood with the sword raised.
“Let me help you, darling,” Jacqueline purred, stepping toward him. Her eyes shone, and not in a good way. “There’s still time.”
Time? Tristan frowned. Time for what?
Then it hit him. Jacqueline didn’t need vampires to finish this off. She could still kill Natalie, collect some blood, and carry out her crazy plan to seize power.
Tristan growled, tempted to hurl her down one of the tunnels. But poison pooled in his midsection, and he doubled over in pain.
“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 someo
ne 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