by Jane Godman
Hollie remained silent, waiting for him to explain. After a few minutes of silence, Torque got to his feet. “I need to go for a walk. Some fresh air will help me clear my head.”
“Can I come with you?”
He leaned down and kissed her. “I want you to.”
They dressed quickly and slipped out of the hotel without being noticed. “Ged would go crazy if he knew we were out alone without protection,” Hollie said as they wandered through the downtown streets.
“Hollie...” There was a distinct note of arrogance in Torque’s voice. “You are with a dragon.”
Even though the dawn light was just streaking the sky, there were still plenty of drinkers spilling out of bars and clubs. They walked in silence for a few blocks before Hollie spoke. “When you told me about the two dragon eggs that came out of the flames in the rock...one of them was you, wasn’t it?”
“Yes. I was born from the fire that burned beneath the Highlands. I was the leader of the Cumhachdach.” His lips twisted into a bitter smile. “I still am, for what it’s worth.”
“What do you mean?”
“Like I told you, I am the only one of my clan left alive.” They had reached a low wall and Torque leaned against it. “Because Teine killed the rest of my family.”
His voice was matter-of-fact, but Hollie could see the flash of pain in his eyes. Reaching out, she placed a hand on his arm. “I’m sorry.”
He placed his hand over hers. “I’ve never been able to talk about it. Even to Ged, who was the person who rescued me from captivity. All he knew was that I was imprisoned by a sorceress. I never told him the story behind it.”
“Can you tell me?” Hollie asked.
“I can try. We were the Highland dragon-shifters, born in the fire that raged when the mighty mountains were forged. I was the first, along with Alban, the leader of the Moiteil. Our followers came later. Teine saw us as her playthings. At first there was peace between the clans. The Highlands are vast enough for two dragon clans to exist in harmony, but that didn’t suit Teine. Calm and coexistence are not in her nature. Over time, she turned us against each other and we became bitter enemies, stealing each other’s treasure and fighting over territory.”
As he spoke, there was a faraway look in his eyes as though he was looking back into the past. “Teine would favor one of us, then the other. First Alban, then me. But over time, it became clear that I was her favorite.” Torque’s lips twisted into a bitter smile. “More than that, I became an obsession with her.”
Hollie shivered slightly. Obsession. It was a word that summed up the Incinerator, and possibly the writer of that email.
“When she realized I was never going to return her love, she cast a spell on me. I was imprisoned in the very cave where I was born, destined to be Teine’s pet dragon for all eternity. Once I was helpless, she wiped out the entire Cumhachdach. It gave her great pleasure to come to me each day and describe the killings. She tortured me with the details.”
Hollie moved closer to him, wrapping her arms around his waist, and Torque rested his cheek against her hair. They remained that way for several silent minutes. “You said she was dead.” She lifted her head to look at him.
“I saw it for myself. When Ged came to free me, I thought I was imagining things. Another person entering the cave seemed to be an impossibility, but it’s what he does. Don’t ask me how, but he discovers the whereabouts of shifters who are in danger, or distress, and he rescues them. I was one of the lucky ones. He got me out of the cave, but Teine appeared as we were leaving. There was no way I was going back into that prison. I breathed a stream of fire over her. She was engulfed in flames and staggered back, falling into a ravine.” He pressed a fist into his open palm. “She couldn’t have survived.”
“But she was a sorceress. Didn’t she have magic powers?”
He hunched a shoulder. “The sort that made her resistant to dragon fire and a fall from a mountain? She was good, Hollie, but she wasn’t invincible.”
Hollie tried out another theory. “Could the Incinerator be someone close to her? Someone who wants revenge for her death? If a family member, or someone close to her, knows you killed her, they could have sent that message.”
Torque snorted. “I don’t think Teine was the type to inspire loyalty. She has a twin sister, but they hated each other. Teine was fire and Deigh was ice—that’s what their names mean in Gaelic—and they were opposites in every way. They stayed on their separate mountains and never met. It was a joke among the Highland paranormal community that no one had ever seen them together. I can imagine Deigh’s main emotion at hearing about her sister’s death would have been deep joy.”
“But Deigh is still alive?”
Torque shrugged. “I assume so. The level of sorcery they had achieved made them immortal, but not invincible. Teine should have—must have—died when she was burned and fell from the mountain. As long as Deigh has avoided similar hazards, I guess, she still resides in her lonely ice palace on the mountain known as Càrn Eighe.”
“What are we left with? A message that coincidentally sounds like it could be from Teine?” Hollie asked.
“That’s how it looks.” Torque didn’t sound convinced, and his eyes, which were fixed on a point beyond her shoulder, had a hunted expression that made her uncomfortable.
“At least there haven’t been any Incinerator attacks since we left New York,” Hollie said.
Grasping her by the shoulders, Torque slowly turned her around. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”
Chapter 9
Torque gripped Hollie’s hand tight as they walked toward the glow in the sky. He had known what it was as soon as he saw it. He was a dragon. Fire was in his blood; it pulled him the way a drug tempted an addict.
“It could be part of an organized display.” Hollie shook her head. “I can’t believe I just said that. We both know it’s not.”
She was right. There was already a large crowd gathered close to the burning building. It was an office block near the hotel where Beast was staying and just a few blocks from the concert hall where they had played on the previous night. Hollie pointed that information out to Torque as they stood behind the makeshift barrier the firefighters had erected. He nodded, pulling his beanie hat down as the group of people around them grew. The last thing he wanted was to be recognized.
The fire had taken hold fast, and every part of the structure was blazing, with flames creeping along the roof and bursting out of the doors and windows. Even though he was watching a destructive force at work, Torque still felt the inevitable pull of attraction as he stared into the blaze. Swirling orange, red and amber, even purple. It drew him in. Called to him.
Beckoning fingers of fire licked up into the air and reached out toward the surrounding buildings, trying to catch hold and make more. More heat, more smoke, more devastation. Finding nothing to cling to, they fluttered away, rising again minutes later in another direction.
Smoke, the headiest of all scents to a dragon, tugged at his nostrils. It was diluted by burning rubber and electrical cables. Nevertheless, he inhaled it greedily. Guiltily. Getting his dragon fix, secure in knowledge that the building had been empty. The firefighters had answered that question when someone from the crowd called out. Closed for the holiday weekend.
Is this for me, Teine? A little gift for the pet dragon?
The thought brought all the humiliation and pain of the past crashing back down on him. Torque was part mortal, part dragon. Both halves of his psyche were equal, but his dragon traits had a strong influence on his human personality. He was hotheaded, energetic, arrogant and loyal. He could tick all those boxes. But he was defined by his pride. Honor was the watchword throughout the Highland shifter clans. Torque’s society had rules that were built on dignity, chivalry and dragon supremacy. Teine had known that and had used it to bring him low. She had str
ipped him of his power as a dragon-shifter leader. That feeling of helplessness came back to him now, rising like bile in his throat.
He scanned the faces of the other onlookers, unsure what he was looking for. If Teine had survived and she was doing this, she would be able to disguise herself in any way she chose. The sorceress he had once known could be anyone in this crowd. The middle-aged man standing slightly to one side? The youth taking tasteless selfies with the burning building behind him? The person who wasn’t looking at the building at all, but who was staring at Torque and Hollie? He paused, looking again at the figure. He couldn’t tell if it was a man or a woman. Most of the person’s face was hidden by a hooded sweatshirt, but Torque caught a glimpse of the eyes. And a flash of venom in their depths.
As soon as Torque turned that way, the figure disappeared.
“What the...?”
Torque made a movement toward where he had seen the person. At that precise moment, there was a horrible groaning noise from the building as the roof started to collapse. The firefighters began moving everyone away from the scene. Torque, shoving his hands deep into his pockets and keeping his head down, went with the crowd, pulling Hollie along with him.
“What happened back there?” Hollie hauled on his arm. Becoming aware that she was having trouble keeping up, Torque slowed his strides to match her pace.
“I’m letting her get to me.” He pressed the knuckles of one hand to his temple. “This is what Teine is good at. She gets inside your head and makes you doubt the evidence of your own eyes. Even after she’s dead...” He took a breath. “It was nothing. I saw a person in the crowd. Whoever it was appeared to be watching us instead of the fire. When I looked their way, they disappeared.”
“Disappeared, as in walked away? Or disappeared, as in vanished?”
“Back there, I’d have said vanished, but I’d been staring into a fire and inhaling smoke. Both of which used to be my favorite things.” He was calming down now. Seeing a fire so soon after talking about Teine must have unnerved him. That was the explanation. Had to be. The person he’d seen had just blended into the crowd.
“Used to be?” Hollie hooked her arm through his. Looking at her upturned face helped him get some perspective. They were on a regular street; there was nothing sinister about the people walking past them. He could breathe normally again.
“Yeah. Then I met you and they dropped down to about a hundred on the list.”
“Seriously, Torque.” She looked back over her shoulder at the burning building. “Do you think it was Teine?”
“Seriously?” He didn’t want to answer the question truthfully. He wanted to be able to brush it aside, to go back to their hotel room, close the door and pretend the rest of the world—including arsonists and sorceresses—didn’t exist. “I think it could have been.”
* * *
When they had returned to the hotel after the fire, it was almost dawn. Although they had attempted to snatch a few hours of sleep, it had proved impossible. The events of the previous day had chased away any possibility of slumber, and they had lain awake talking about Teine and the most recent fire. At least the day had been a busy one. Torque had spent most of it in rehearsals while Hollie had continued to plow through his old emails.
Now it was early evening, and to Hollie’s intense relief, there was no performance that night. Some of the band were going out to a steak house, but others were catching up on sleep. Torque had gone with the early night option and they’d ordered room service. Having halfheartedly eaten some food, Hollie had decided she could no longer put off the task she’d been dreading. But she’d been standing in the bedroom, staring at her cell phone for at least ten minutes. Even though she’d rehearsed what she was going to say a dozen times, none of the words and phrases sounded reasonable. If she was truthful, all of them would sound crazy to her.
That’s because all of this is crazy.
Blaming her reluctance on tiredness didn’t work. She had been catapulted into a world that was wonderful, but that broke every rule of sanity.
Even without the inability to decide what to say, she was torn in two directions about calling Dalton. She desperately wanted to know if there was any news about McLain. And, of course, it would be good to find out how the Incinerator team was progressing with their inquiries. The ideal situation would be that they had arrested someone over this latest fire and the nightmare was over. She knew that wasn’t going to happen, but it was nice to indulge in that brief moment of hope.
Hollie didn’t want to call him because that other world was too far away. Her old life was another time and place. Since the last time she saw Dalton, she had fallen for a rock-star dragon-shifter. It was a pretty big lifestyle change and she felt like she no longer had anything to say to the people she’d once known. Although she still wanted to catch the Incinerator, she had no wish to go back to the things she’d once thought of as normality.
Anyone learning what had happened to her would have a reasonable cause to believe she’d undergone some sort of brainwashing. If Dalton got even a glimpse of her whereabouts and her companion, he was likely to suspect she’d parted company with her reason. But Hollie—sane, practical, scientific Hollie—had never been more sure of anything. She belonged with Torque.
Eventually, she decided the best way to do this was to just make the call and see where the conversation took them. Dalton was a friend as well as a colleague. They had once been close; he cared about her, and she knew he valued her professional opinion. He would listen to what she had to say. Probably.
“Hollie, my God. I’ve been out of my mind with worry.”
He didn’t have to say it, she could hear it in his voice. “Dalton, I’m fine.”
“You need to tell me where you are right now, or go to the nearest field office.” She could picture him pacing up and down as he was talking. “It doesn’t matter where you are, I’ll come and get you.”
“Dalton, did you hear me? I said I’m fine.” She didn’t know whether to be touched, or irritated, at the depth of his concern.
“Hollie, we found a dead body in the burned-out ruin of your apartment.”
It wasn’t just the words that rocked her back on her heels; it was the change of pace from Dalton. Blunt, harsh, totally emotionless. If he was going for shock tactics, he was succeeding.
“Wh...what?”
“Specifically, she was in your bedroom.” He waited a moment or two to let the information sink in. “And that’s not all.”
“No.” Hollie didn’t want to hear any more. Her mind was already filled with awful images and she had a horrible premonition about what was coming next. “Please, no.”
“It was McLain.”
The phone clattered out of her hand as she dropped to her knees. The edges of her vision went dark and she was only vaguely aware of Torque, alerted by the noise, coming into the room.
“She’ll call you back.” Torque ended the call to Dalton before lifting Hollie off the floor and carrying her to the bed.
As soon as he placed her on the mattress, the whole room began to spin wildly and Hollie bolted upright, covering her mouth with one hand. She just made it to the bathroom in time. With her whole body shaking violently, she leaned over the lavatory as her stomach emptied its contents. After a few minutes, she felt able to stand up, rinse her mouth and wipe her face. On legs that still felt wobbly, she returned to the bedroom.
Torque was sitting on the bed, an expression of concern on his face. “What happened?”
“My boss...” Her throat felt raw and she was still shaking like a leaf in a high wind. Her mind was playing a series of images of McLain. First there were the good pictures. McLain in the office, sipping her megastrength coffee while she jabbed a finger to make a point. McLain when they’d gone on an occasional night out, drinking and letting her hair down. McLain when they got a result, buying donuts and hi
gh-fiving her team. But other images kept intruding. McLain lying dead on Hollie’s bedroom floor, her body blackened by fire...
“Slowly.” Torque took her hands, and his touch acted like a balm. Drawing her down next to him, he placed his arm around her shoulders and pressed his lips to her temple. “When you’re ready.”
“She’s dead.” The words came out on a gasp. “Burned. By the Incinerator. In my apartment.”
His fingers tightened on her shoulder. The tears came then and she turned her face into his chest, unable to halt the storm of grief, shock and rage that took hold of her and flung her about like a rag doll. Vaguely conscious of Torque holding her and murmuring words of comfort, she clung to him. Guilt screamed inside her head.
Eventually, she straightened and took the wad of Kleenex Torque held out to her. Blowing her nose and wiping her streaming eyes, she tried to confront what she knew.
“This is because of me.” She fought down a fresh wave of tears as she said the words. “I took the investigation in this direction. If I hadn’t uncovered the link to you—if we hadn’t met—McLain would still be alive.”
“Hollie.” Torque took both her hands in his. “You told your boss your findings because you are good at your job. And you were right. No matter how horrible this is, it proves that I am the link to these fires.”
She nodded miserably. “By coming into your life, I’ve made things worse. The Incinerator doesn’t like it.”
“We can’t live by the Incinerator’s rules. This is probably not something you want to talk about right now, but I wonder why your boss had to die.”
Hollie frowned, trying to follow what he was saying. “What do you mean?”
“From what you’ve told me of this case so far, the other deaths have been incidental to the fires. The people who died were tragically trapped in the place the Incinerator chose. But this couldn’t be more personal. You have no family, so he, or she, targeted someone who was close to you. It’s a powerful message.”