by Nina Croft
“Yeah, and the underwear. You know, in all my life, I’ve never bought a woman underwear.”
“You’re repressed.”
“Too right, and I’m planning to stay that way. Here.” He tossed a bag onto the bed. “Clothes. I suggest you put them on before I see you again. Not that I’m complaining about seeing you naked, it’s…”
A low growl came from the bed beside her.
“Hah. I thought talking about you naked might wake him up. Not that I believe for a minute that he was actually asleep.”
“Get out, Cole,” Mal snarled.
“I’m going. I’ll unload the rest of the stuff from the car and I’m off.”
“We’ll see you downstairs.”
Cole closed the door behind him, and Lily sat up. She grabbed one of the bags and peered inside. “He must have noticed you’ve got a thing about black.” She handed the bag to Mal and picked up the next one. This one seemed far more promising. “Hmm, black lace,” she murmured, holding up the bra and matching panties. “Considering he’s never done it before, he’s a fast learner.” The other bags contained jeans, T-shirts, socks and sneakers. She shook out one of the T-shirts, and laughed.
“What is it?” Mal asked.
She held it up for him; the front had a motif in sequins of a dragon. “Very witty. I’m going for a shower,” she said, slipping from the bed.
Mal grabbed her hand before she could disappear. “I’ll come too. You might need help.”
Lily smiled. “I somehow don’t think Cole will be happy to wait while you ‘help’ me in the shower.”
Mal smiled. “Maybe not. But don’t get too clean and I can help you later.”
When she entered the kitchen fifteen minutes later, the guys were still putting food away. Cole threw her a bar of chocolate. “Here.” He took a good look. “I like the T-shirt. Somehow it seemed appropriate.”
She smiled. “Do you want lunch before you go?”
“No, I want to head off now. I have to get back.”
“I want lunch,” Mal said. “I’m starved.”
“Have a piece of chocolate.”
“Right,” Cole said. “That’s it, then.” He turned to Mal. “There is just one thing I’m dying to know.”
Mal raised an eyebrow in query.
“Are you really a government agent?”
“No.”
“Damn. Then how…” He shook his head. “Maybe I don’t want to know.”
Lily crossed to where he stood, put her hand on his shoulder, and kissed him on the mouth. “Thank you. For everything.”
“Hmm.” Cole leaned down and kissed her back.
“Cole,” a voice growled from behind them. “Stand on one leg.”
Cole stood on one leg. He glared at Mal through narrowed eyes, and Lily couldn’t hold back a giggle.
“Put it down,” Mal said.
Cole dropped his leg. “That’s definitely it. I’m out of here.” He turned, but paused at the doorway. “Let me know how it all turns out.”
Mal smiled. “No problem.”
“Right,” Mal said when they were alone. “Work.”
“What about lunch?”
“Okay, lunch, and then work.”
She didn’t want to work. She put fresh bread and cheese on the table, found a bottle of wine and opened it. Mal gave her a look.
“Let’s not work today,” she said. “Let’s eat and drink and forget and go to bed, and maybe have that shower…”
“Okay. Work tomorrow.”
“You have to learn to focus the fire. There’s no mystery to all this. In Ankesh, what you call magic here is as natural as breathing. It’s there within you all the time, but you must learn to make it come to your call.”
He lifted his right hand and flickers of blue-black flame erupted from his fingertips. He stretched out his arm and flames over a meter long shot forward from his hand. “Now you.”
“I don’t know how. It comes when I’m angry or stressed.” Or, she might have added, when she was turned on. “But I don’t know how to make it come when I’m not.”
Mal lowered his arm and the flames died away. He picked up Lily’s hand. “Think of fire,” he murmured, stroking the sensitive skin of her palm. She shivered and tried, but all she could think of was Mal’s hand stroking her. She could feel fire, but it was flickers of flame running through her body, melting her core. “Lily, concentrate.”
“Stop doing that and I might be able to.”
“Doing what?”
“Stroking my hand, getting me all worked up, then telling me I have to concentrate.”
His eyelids drooped and he stared at her, eyes gleaming through the thick fringe of his lashes. He raised her hand to his lips and licked her palm. Her knees threatened to crumple.
“Are you all worked up, Lily?” He whispered the words against her palm. She looked down at his bent head and then at her own hand, clasped in his larger one. Small sparks of orange fire were spitting from her fingertips.
“Oh,” she said.
He raised his head and smiled. “Catch the feeling. Concentrate the flames, make them do your bidding.”
Lily focused on them, imagined them growing, drew the fire from deep within her, and her fingers flowered with bright orange flames.
“Good,” Mal said. “Now put them out. Think about water, cold water. Douse your hand in the cold.”
The flames went out as though she had clicked a switch.
“Remember,” Mal said. “Dragons hate cold water.”
“I did it,” she said, then sighed. “All I need is you around to perform a little foreplay and I’m away.”
“Try it on your own.”
Lily closed her eyes and held up her hand. She concentrated on remembering the feeling, picturing the flames. Heat burned her fingertips. She opened her eyes and saw her hand on fire. She grinned and waggled her fingers, thought of water, and they were gone. “Why are your flames blue and black, and mine are orange?”
“Because I am a black dragon.”
“Like my mark?”
He nodded. “You, I think, would be a beautiful golden dragon, with emerald eyes. Like my mark.” He frowned. “Except, there is no such thing as a female dragon. None of the Dragon Princesses could change.”
“How do you change?”
“You’ll see when we get to Ankesh.”
A wave of foreboding washed over her. It was so easy to forget what lay ahead. “What if we don’t?”
“Don’t what?” he asked.
“Don’t get to Ankesh. What if this Vortigen won’t let us go? What will he do to us? What will he do to you?”
“I don’t know. If we fail, then he’ll take you as mate and the only advice I can give is don’t fight him. Bend to his will and maybe you’ll survive. I won’t be able to help you—if it comes to that point, then I’ll be dead.”
Lily heard the truth in his words. “Don’t give your life away for nothing.”
“You believe that while there’s life there’s hope? I hope you manage to keep that optimism, but I think it’s unlikely if we fail.”
A shiver ran through her at his words. Something worse than death. She stiffened her spine. “Then we mustn’t fail,” she said. “Come on, teach me some more. Show me how to use this fire to blow Vortigen’s ass back to Ankesh.”
Mal was training her in the use of her new powers: the fire, telekinesis, and her favorite, the ability to disappear and reappear. She could only go short distances up to now, but it gave her the biggest buzz she’d ever experienced. Aside from Mal’s lovemaking that was.
Along with how to control her new powers, Mal was also teaching her the use of weapons. How to shoot, how to hold a knife, how to kill, and the days fell into a pattern. The mornings they trained, and in the afternoons, they would make love, lying in the huge bed, holding each other close and talking about everything. Lily told him of her childhood in the children’s home, the constant illnesses that had prevented her from b
eing put up for adoption. How she’d dreamed of a mother or father coming to claim her at last.
“Mal, tell me about my father. Please,” she added when he remained silent. “You talk of the sorcerers with such hatred. Tell me why. Tell me what he was like.”
Mal lay quiet for a long time and she thought he wasn’t going to answer, but eventually he spoke. “Not all those with dragon blood become sorcerers. Many live normal lives among the humans. Many don’t even realize that they’re different, but when the dragon blood is strong, they can’t help but know. The Conclave searches for these and brings them into its fold.”
“But what do they do that’s so terrible?”
“They do magic, but magic here on Earth requires dragon blood; the stronger the spell, the more blood is required or stronger blood. Pure dragon blood is the strongest, but they can’t get access to that. So the sorcerers sacrifice their own kind to give them the power they crave. The more they sacrifice, the easier it becomes, and the lower they sink into evil. They breed among themselves to maintain the strength of their blood, which is why many of them appear similar, and they often use their own children in their sacrifices.”
“And my father was like that?”
“Your father was the strongest of the sorcerers. He was a bitter man who believed that immortality was his birthright. He set up the Conclave to search for ever more powerful magic.” He paused briefly. “He also killed my mother.”
Lily froze. “What?”
“Oh, Shula was dying anyway. The Dragon Princesses weren’t immortal. They were given extended life by drinking the blood of their mates. When the mates died, they would resume their mortal lives. My father had been killed by Vortigen in a battle for the crown. Vortigen refused her protection—she’d chosen my father over him thousands of years before and Vortigen has never been one to let go of a grudge. He left her alone on Earth, unprotected. Draegar found her and sacrificed her for the power of her blood. He gained much from that killing.”
“So Vortigen was to blame for that as well.”
“Yes.”
“Draegar planned to sacrifice my mother,” Lily said. “Weyland told me. He said I was taking Cara’s place. I’m glad you killed him.”
Mal came up on one elbow so he could look into her face. “Draegar was evil. He needed to die.”
“I get that. I just don’t understand why my mother went to him. She must have been so desperate. But he was my father. What does that make me?”
He leaned down and kissed her. “You’re perfect. There’s nothing of Draegar in you.” He frowned. “There’s also very little of Cara. You’re your own person, something new. A gift from the Goddess.”
“Yeah, but what’s given can be taken back.”
“I’ll never let them take you.”
Chapter 15
Lily awoke in the darkness. Beside her, Mal sat up in bed. In the dim light, he appeared to be listening to something. She strained to hear, but could make out no sound beyond their own breathing.
“What is it?” she whispered.
“The wards have been breached.”
A shiver of apprehension ran down her spine. In the two weeks since Cole had left, she’d come to believe nothing could get to them here. Mal had spoken to the King twice. On both occasions, he’d insisted it was still not safe to meet, but they both knew Vortigen’s patience wouldn’t last forever. And the Conclave would be gathering strength, hunting for them. Still, she’d believed they had more time.
“I thought you said they couldn’t be breached, that no sorcerer was strong enough.”
He turned to her. “It’s not a sorcerer.”
“Oh.”
“The wards won’t stop a dragon—just warn me he’s here. They must have traced us.”
“An enemy?”
He shrugged. “Do you have any dragon friends?”
“Just the one.” She switched on the lamp and slipped out of bed.
“What are you doing?” Mal asked, his brows drawing together.
“I’m getting dressed. I’m not waiting here for some dragon to come and find me.” She pulled on underwear, jeans, and a T-shirt, then slipped into her sneakers, buckled the shoulder holster on and checked her pistol. She pushed a knife into the holster on her belt, then bent down, rolled up her jean leg, and buckled another holster around her calf, slipping a small blade into place and pulling her jeans over it. She glanced up to see Mal still sitting on the bed, a bemused expression on his face.
“What?” she asked.
“I was just hoping the poor bastard doesn’t do anything to upset you before he has a chance to say whatever it is he’s come to say. This will be a messenger, Lily. I don’t think you’re going to have to kill him.”
“Spoilsport,” she said. “I thought I was going to get a chance to try out all these nifty new skills you’ve taught me.” She lifted her hand and flames shot from her fingertips. “Anyway, there’s no reason not to be prepared.” She looked at him. “You said you didn’t want to kill any of your people, I never did. I’m willing to do whatever’s necessary to protect you.”
Mal chuckled. “It’s almost worth handing you over to Vortigen just to see his reaction. I don’t think he’s ever encountered a woman like you.” He stood up and came across to her naked but for the golden torc. He was magnificent and he was hers. At least for now. She realized then that she had told the truth—she would kill to keep him safe. He came to a halt only inches away, wrapped his arms around her, and pulled her close. “I’ve never had a champion before,” he murmured into her hair. “Never had someone promise to protect me. Thank you.” He kissed her forehead, then glanced down at her and smiled. “But I’d be grateful if you didn’t kill this particular dragon.”
She stood quiet, breathing in the scent of smoke and musk that rose from his body, and then she pushed herself away. Trailing one finger over his broad chest, she scraped over the nipple. “Get dressed,” she said. “Let’s go see what your dragon wants and get back to bed.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Killian.”
A tall man stood staring at the pictures on the wall of the professor’s study. At Mal’s voice, he turned and smiled.
The similarity between the two men was striking. Killian was tall and lean with thick black hair and golden skin, though his eyes were emerald green like hers.
“Mal,” he said, coming forward. To Lily’s surprise, the two men embraced. After a minute, Mal stepped back, but his arms rested on the other man’s shoulder.
“Lily, this is my brother, Killian.”
She should have guessed, but not having met many dragons, for all she knew they could have all looked alike.
“And Killian, this is Lily.”
Killian studied her, something close to awe in his expression. “Is she the one? Are we going home?”
The longing rang clear in his voice. Until meeting one of them, she’d found it easy to ignore their existence. She would never be able to do that again. It made her feel small, as though she didn’t matter, as though she were just some pawn in a larger game, there to do her part. She shook off the feeling.
Killian’s gaze ran over her, coming to rest on her right arm where the mark seemed to burn through her clothing.
Without thought, Lily’s hands went to the neckline of her T-shirt, and tugged it down over her shoulder. She turned so her right arm faced Killian. His eyes widened, his hand came out, and he lightly touched the golden dragon.
“Princess,” he murmured. “You are our salvation.”
Great. She didn’t want to be anyone’s salvation but her own and Mal’s. She didn’t want to feel responsible for these others. As far as she could see, they had brought this down on themselves. She pulled her T-shirt back up. Mal’s hand touched her shoulder, and she glanced up into his face.
“Thank you,” he said. “That was well done.”
“You know why I’m here?” Killian said.
“At a guess because Vortigen�
��s getting impatient.”
Killian smiled. “You always were the master of the understatement. He’s breathing fire. He wants to know why the delay. It’s over two weeks since you found her. Why are we still here?”
Mal let out a breath. “I’m getting a drink. You want one?”
Lily glanced across at Killian. His eyebrows drew together in a frown, but he nodded. Mal poured them all scotch. He handed one to Lily, then held out the other to Killian. “Come on, sit down.”
Killian took the drink. “What’s going on, brother?”
“Sit and we’ll talk.”
Mal sank down onto the leather sofa, Lily sat beside him, close, the long line of her thigh touching his, needing to feel the comfort of his body next to hers. Killian watched, clearly unhappy, but then he sighed and took the chair opposite. He sipped his drink and studied the two of them.
“I’m beginning to see,” he said to Mal. “You always did have a thing about redheads. But this isn’t good. Shit, in fact it’s a fucking nightmare. What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“First,” Mal said, “tell me—how did you find us?”
“It was the sorceress, Cassandra. She sensed your wards. I think she already knew of this place and had an idea where to look.”
Mal frowned. “Cassandra? She’s still with the King? How can Vortigen trust her?”
“He thinks he’s irresistible.” Killian shrugged. “Cassandra told him that the only reason she betrayed you was because she was jealous of Lily. She didn’t want the King to leave her for another, and so she tried to eliminate the opposition.”
“And Vortigen believed that? Is he insane?” Mal ran a hand through his hair. “Yes, it’s likely that Cass knew of this place and I’d bet that she also knew Weyland.” He shook his head again. “I can’t believe Vortigen didn’t punish her for her betrayal.”
“Oh, he punished her. Beat her close to death and then revived her with his blood.” He was silent for a moment. “You know, I believe he loves the witch as much as he’s capable of loving anyone.”