Blood Moon_A novel of the Paramortals

by Livia Quinn

  "Nay," Conor's voice was pained and yet regretful. "Were I sure, my fierce love, I would not hesitate, but it is something I can't even bear to speak aloud. I am praying I'm wrong."

  All Montana could do after that frightening statement was give her dragon a hug. He needed it if what he was contemplating caused him this much anguish. "I will not wait for long before uncovering this secret portal," she said firmly.

  She felt him smile against her cheek as his chest rumbled with laughter. "Ach, I do not doubt you would find a way. The image of you striding through the portal to wreak havoc on my clan gives me a certain thrill." He pressed her tightly to his chest then leaned away from her. "It will not be necessary. I have merely to find Aevyn and I will return."

  Conor was quite capable of judging the danger in a situation and eliminating threats but a frisson of unease gave Montana a moment's discomfort. Neither Conor nor Cinder had been able to take care of this new enemy. Maybe she should see how Styx stacked up against a Dinnshencha.

  "Dinna even think about it, lassie," Conor's low rumble came, reminding her he was strangely, eerily connected to her thoughts. He raised his bronzed hand and tipped her chin up, staring into her eyes with his slanted red and amber gaze. "Promise me you will be here when I return. You willnae experience the same time-lag as I; t'will seem like mere hours." He waited until she nodded and lowered his mouth to hers.

  She begged to differ. Mere hours without him when he could be in danger would be an eternity. She poured all her love, all that she'd withheld from him in the past into this one kiss, lingering for a moment after to feel his heart beat strong and vital under her cheek. "Goddess keep you, my love."

  Then he and Cinder were off, flying swiftly toward the Isle.

  Chapter 21

  Hey, mate. The water is near to boilin' out ther'…

  River was deathly sick of hanging out at bars, especially this one. He didn't know if the depression and fatalism that had absorbed all his thoughts had started before he'd found out about the enthrallment, or if they were a product of the company he was keeping—miscreants, killers, thieves, and variants, whose main goal was to destroy the peace-seeking Paramortals. They had no compunctions about who they used or how. Case in point… his brother. River had become numb to them, apathetic about their open hostility and unconcerned about their jibes.

  "He may be the son of the greatest Djinn, but look at him. He's a wastrel," said a dark fae. "We could take him."

  River had spent a small amount of energy to beat back their rhetoric though he hadn't much cared. What was wrong with him? He remembered enough to know he was different now.

  Maybe his strange response to the sexy red dragon had temporarily awakened his sensibilities, and his moral compass. Yes, he'd felt it when she was close to him. Where was she? She could be trying again at this very moment to take Styx' head. He wished.

  At least, he knew he should and could wish for that very outcome. But if it were that simple, it would be done. Over. Fini. But Djinn couldn't grant their own wishes.

  Something pressed again at the corner of his mind. The times he'd been close to her... it was almost as if her presence countered the emotional effects of the enthrallment. He'd felt bewitched by her that first time. He set his glass down. Maybe he could test his theory.

  A harried voice from the other end of the bar drew River's attention. "Eh, mate, ah need a cold one, and fast. Ma feet 'er burnin'. The water is near boilin' out ther' and the sand ain't much bettuh. It's turned to glass in some places, eh?"

  Two creatures scooted their chairs back and walked toward the exit, curious to see this phenomenon. River frowned. What could make water boil and sand turn to glass?

  Dragon fire for one.

  He passed the scruffy looking were, reptilian if his webbed feet were any indication, and strode quickly down the tunnel after the other two.

  He sensed her presence on the Isle as soon as he exited the tunnel. Djinn radar was keen or... well, there was something unique about her. Finding a small crowd gathered not a hundred yards from the Moat, he just stood behind them, tall enough to watch the action over their heads. He wasn't the only one mesmerized by the display she was putting on.

  She was as bright as the sun, majestic, with her feet planted in the sand, her neck stretched out, creating a large circle of brilliant blue flame. Several short blasts were accompanied by her large claws kicking the sand. She aimed the next blast down the beach away from the crowd, obviously aware of her audience and taking care with them, but she was just as obviously in a snit.

  He laughed, and everyone on the beach turned.

  Djinn were renowned for their thunderous voices and boisterous laughter going back to ancient times. It went with their gregarious personalities and strong connection to the elements. But this wasn't something anyone had heard from River, ever. Dutch, yes, and often, but never River. Some had begun to question if they were even related.

  The spectators weren't the only ones paying attention to his lusty amusement. The red dragon had stopped mid breath and turned her haughty glare on him, which made him laugh even harder. Efrit, she was mad because he was interrupting her tantrum.

  She lowered her head and lifted her powerful legs, planting each giant clawed foot in front of the other as the crowd parted, watching, fascinated by the play in front of them, forgetting their fear and the heat. This was going to be entertaining.

  Cinder stared at him, struck by how much younger he looked. The disgruntled, morose individual she'd met that morning was gone. Another image came to her suddenly, of a child with his parents and a girl who must have been his sister, on a family picnic. The scene played out like a movie, mother and father chased by the two children, the four of them laughing, channeling air and water into mini-storms, which they used as weapons in their game.

  The emotions on their faces pierced her heart as she realized she'd dreamed about him and his family when he was a toddler. She put the pieces together. The child, the young man, and the wounded djinn were the same. He'd healed and grown into this massive, larger than life being. With his tawny hair and golden skin, he reminded her of a great lion… with a thorn in his paw. She smiled. Or a dragon with a sabretooth in his foot. Wow, when he wasn't trying so hard to be surly, he was very... hot.

  "So, you can smile," she said catching him off guard when she spoke to him from her dragon face. He caught himself, looked guilty. As if he didn't deserve to laugh.

  Cinder was used to the jovial shenanigans of her big Scottish clan. Despite his age, Conor had always been merry and playful even while taking his responsibilities seriously.

  She shifted within arms-length of River and looked him over boldly. He cocked his head returning her regard with a raised brow. He intrigued her even though her first impression of him had been a drunkard and ne'er do well.

  Who was she kidding, laughing or scowling, he was fine. All that bronzed skin and unkempt hair, the flexing muscles in his arms and chest. Mmm-mm. She wondered what he'd do if she offered him a quick roll in the sky. Was he one of those Djinn that always had to have his feet on the ground? Or could he take to the air?

  Her general knowledge of supernaturals included mostly faeries and dragons, though she knew more about faeries since she was half fae herself, but she was learning about other species. Conor told her to be prepared to expand her observations in Destiny where there was a proliferation of creatures, due to the power available here from the leylines.

  She'd felt that power as soon as she sighted the lake and even more so when she got to the Isle where she met the djinn. Dragons had awesome senses but here, it was as if the energy under the lake pulsed like a giant heartbeat. All her senses were sharper, clearer; her flight, swifter; and her fire, more intense. It was… exhilarating. She could see why Conor favored this place.

  But was there more significance to Destiny's magic than just its power and history? Her brother had found Montana, his true mate, after centuries of searching and River's si
ster found her mate—the dragon sheriff. Why had her dreams led her to this place, to this djinn? Then Cinder remembered why she was here on the beach and her anxiety returned.

  What if something happened with the dragonhunter while Conor was gone? Worse, what if Styx knew he was gone and took the opportunity to attack her? She looked back down the beach.

  River watched the expressions move across her face. What was her agile mind planning? He made a fist to keep from reaching out to smooth the frown lines from her otherwise flawless skin. He heard himself murmur, "What has your hackles up, Dragon Lady?"

  Her pupils flared, then snapped back to vertical slits. She glanced over her shoulder again but sensed no threat. Like a ruby statue she studied him, but this time he couldn't tell what she was thinking. Finally, she growled, "What are you hiding?"

  "You're a fine one to talk. You're the dragonhunter slayer who can't kill—"

  "Sshh!" she threw her slender hand up to cover his mouth.

  River's voice had been loud, but the crowd hadn't noticed, having dispersed when the entertainment was over. His reaction to her touch was immediate, however, for him at least. A flush of heat surged through him. Those purple irises showed surprise and when she tried to remove her hand, he caught it in his, "Don't," he said, his voice rough.

  River looked at his fingers entwined with hers, so delicate for such a fierce warrior. So soft for a dragon with such tough hide and scales. His lip curved up as he realized, he'd been correct. When he was near her—and touching her was even better—he didn't feel the bond. Perhaps it was only temporary, but the relief was like being in a healing stream. Like it had once felt to be near the Forge. Yes, see, that, too he could remember.

  Cinder wasn't aware of his Zen-like euphoria. She just thought it odd all of a sudden—this fascination he had with holding her hand. She tried to tug it free and though he didn't squeeze her fingers or hold it overly tight, his grip was unyielding. She looked up into his eyes. The once dark irises shown like verdigris coins. She sucked in a breath.

  This was the Djinn hallmark, a sign of his power. Where had it been?

  He turned her hand palm up and with his other hand and a feather-light touch he traced the veins at her wrist, his eyes closing when he felt the power pulsing through her blood, inhaling slowly. But when he opened his eyes again, the brightness was gone. He dropped her hand and the interlude ended as if it had never been. What just happened?

  He stepped back and crossed his arms. Like a damn djinni. She glared at him but with that infernal expression his eyes locked on hers. "So, do you want to tell me what the tantrum was about?"

  "Not as long as I suspect you might be a spy for Styx, or worse, his second." Thinking of Conor, she said, "I have too much to lose. I'll ask you one last time, what are you hiding? Don't you care about your sister, her mate? My brother?"

  His brow arched. "I thought you were supposed to handle it. If you remember... " he stopped, and she sensed his unease. He'd meant, if you remember, I didn't try to stop you.

  True, but that just made her more confused and angry. She didn't have time for this. "Fine. But remember what I told you. If you try to interfere, I'll stop you." She couldn't believe how that made her feel. There was more than regret...

  River's eyes flared briefly then went dark. Quietly he said, "If that happens, aim true, and don't hold back."

  She'd been about to fly, but his words stopped her. What kind of a warning was that? Was he referring to Styx, or himself? The idea made her shiver with dread.

  Chapter 22

  Zeus' shriveling stones, I can't be calm!

  Peggy called while Ryan was leaving the Faerie Inn. "Ryan, Minter's called looking for Jack. They said he was supposed to swing by there this afternoon and have a ring sized?"

  Ryan sighed, knowing what she was going to say before he heard it, "And they were calling... "

  "Because he hasn't shown up and they were wondering if they should wait on him. I'm getting worried, Ryan," Peggy said.

  "Damn it." Ryan was beyond worried. Something was very wrong. "Did you ever get in touch with Tempe?"

  "No, it's going straight to voicemail," the dispatcher said.

  Ryan turned his flashers on and made a U-turn in the middle of the two-lane. "Alright, let me know if you hear anything. I'm headed to Harmony. She should be home by now."

  Tempe had just finished putting her dress on when the doorbell rang. Her first thought was Jack, but he didn't need to ring the bell, unless he'd lost his key. She opened the door but no one was there. Stepping out onto the porch she saw Ryan coming around the corner of the house from the backyard. "Ryan?"

  His usual smooth aura had a lot of rough edges to it. But she didn't need any special talent to read the frown on his face—something was wrong. "What are you doing here, Ryan?"

  "I was looking for Jack," he said with a smile that never reached his eyes. Ryan usually started off by making some joke about hers and Jack's new living arrangement, but he seemed distracted.

  "He hasn't come home yet. I'm supposed to meet him here after he gets off. He's taking me out to dinner."

  "He told me," Ryan said, still not smiling.

  "Ryan, what's wrong? You seem..."

  "I'll get to that, Temp. Look, when did you see him last? What time was it?"

  Tempe didn't have to think long. "I saw him at lunch around 11:30, at Gatorz." She was starting to realize Ryan was more than distracted. He was worried. Her hand fluttered up to her throat, suddenly finding it hard to breathe.

  "11:30?"

  She nodded, feeling like steel bands were squeezing her chest.

  Ryan ran his hand through his hair. "Jeez, Tempe. Jack told me he had to meet you on the route around 2:00. That you'd texted him."

  Tempe frowned as if his words weren't making sense. "I…Ryan, I didn't…" She whirled and ran for her phone, which was on the mantle where she'd dropped it after returning home. "I haven't even checked for messages."

  "I've been trying to call for a while," said Ryan.

  "But it didn't ring." Tempe turned the phone over in her hand. "The ringer is off. How did that happen?"

  Ryan peered over her shoulder. "Check your messages."

  Tempe shook her head as she ran through the messages. "Not even a voicemail from Jack. Let me check my texts but—Oh, no, Ryan." Tempe stared at her cellphone, passing her index finger over the screen. She turned it toward him. The last text was at 2 p.m.

  Jack: Where are you?

  And before that: Sweetheart, I'm here. Thinking about our date. I have a surprise for you.

  That brought a smile, then she wondered, where was here? Which brought her to the first message—from her phone: Jack, meet me at 2 o'clock behind the old mission. I've found something you need to see.

  "Ryan… I didn't send that text." Her voice came out in a whisper and she nearly choked on the fear bubbling up into her throat. "What's happening? Where's Jack?" Even to her own ears she sounded like she was losing it. And losing it was the perfect term for what she felt building inside. She squeezed her eyes shut and crossed her arms, but her eyes flew open when she remembered.

  Ryan reached for her. "Tempe, you need to stay calm, okay?"

  "Zeus' shriveling stones, Ryan. I can't be calm. There was a woman…" Tempe slapped her hand to her head and squeezed her eyes shut. "She asked to use my phone this morning. No, it was after lunch. She said she'd forgotten her cell. Tempe doubled over. "Ohhhh, no. She used my phone to text Jack."

  She clenched her fists around the top of the kitchen chair but even as she did a purplish gray cloud floated over Ryan's head and thunder shook the house. She stifled a whimper.

  Ryan muttered, "That was thunder. Tempe..." then he just stared as rain fell from clouds hanging under the ceiling, soaking the couch and her hand-woven rugs. Ryan may have been a mere-mortal but he'd witnessed everything that had happened in the last year and seen first-hand the power behind her storms. He needed to distract her before she destroye
d Harmony. "Tempe, describe the woman. What was her name?"

  Ryan's voice was commanding and sharp and it penetrated the fugue that took hold when the elements raged through her. "Diane, I think. She had brown hair, tall, Zeus… I didn't notice anything else." Tempe closed her eyes and tried to remember their conversation. "She was waiting for her concrete contractor. But she was lying…"

  "What street? What else did she say?" Ryan drilled her, sounding very much like his boss. He even had one of those dratted spiral pads. Right now, she was glad for his thoroughness and the diversion. It helped her get control again.

  Tempe squinted trying to bring the woman into focus. "I met her in front of 112 Ogden Street, near one of the unfinished houses. She said she'd be moving in about three weeks." Tempe bit her lip and swallowed. "How can this help you find Jack, Ryan?"

  "Hang in there, Tempe. Don't do anything crazy... I mean, don't do anything, period. Not without telling me, okay? Damn it, I can't lie to you, I'm worried. I'll call out the reserves and get everyone looking for him." Ryan looked at the settings on Tempe's phone and handed it back. "She turned your phone off thinking if you turned it back on you wouldn't think to check the ringer. It gave them two chances and bought them extra time."

  She whispered, almost afraid to ask aloud, "What if that dragonhunter…"

  "How did you know about the dragonhunter?" Ryan asked.

  "Marty. He said, 'warn Jack and Conor'." She saw the rain before she heard it making little splats on Ryan's uniform. "I didn't get a chance to warn him..." She closed her eyes and tears as well as rain unloaded.

  Ryan just stood there patting her shoulder and wiping the rain out of his eyes. "Why don't you snag Jordie from school before she gets wind of this—"

  But the door slammed and Jordie's voice called out, "Tempe!" She came to a stop in the hallway and announced, "It's raining in your living room," like other kids would call out, "Mom, I'm home."