“Thank you Suzanne, Bart, Winnie. I have one or two more questions for Ms. Breathwater. You may go.”
It was more than a strange request. He rarely sat through an entire interview, and had never—not even for his top executives—interviewed one-on-one. Those executives were well trained, however, and did not dare to question him.
Alexa waited patiently for the room to clear. She could afford to be patient now that she’d reached her objective. She watched Tarsuinn watch her, his eyes an ice blue that burned the air between them. He was an attractive man, one of those tightly leashed guys who made a woman wonder what happened when he lost control.
They sat in silence, watching each other, until the door closed. Alexa still didn’t move.
“Alexa.” He inclined his head an inch.
“Tarsuinn.” She kept her chin up.
His gaze went from amused to speculative. “What do you remember?”
Images suddenly slid through Alexa’s mind. A stone tower, narrow but tall. Tarsuinn, dressed in dark robes, at a window watching her. A straw-roofed hut, Cyrgyn lurking behind as she gathered wood for the fire. The flash of a sword in her hand. Tarsuinn laughing. The sensation of falling, the top of the tower moving away from her.
She jolted back to the present, and though she tried not to show her reaction to the images, he saw something.
“More than I expected, apparently.” He rose smoothly and began to circle toward her. Alexa stood and paced him, keeping to the opposite side of the table. His steps were slow, measured, deliberate. Alexa matched him stride for stride.
“I know what I need to know.”
“Do you know you loved me?”
His words were low, unexpected, and Alexa stopped moving. Tars stopped on the other side of the table.
“He didn’t mention that, did he, the monster?”
“He’s not a monster, even if you tried to make him one.”
For the first time, unguarded emotion seemed to cross his face. Anger, Alexa was certain. He kept control of his voice, though.
“The dragon will lie, as he has lied for centuries.”
“Is the curse a lie?”
His lips pressed together, then he relaxed and smiled ruefully. “No, the curse is not a lie.”
“Then what is?”
He began circling again. Alexa, tiring of the game, stayed where she was. Tars stopped a few feet away. “I don’t know what he said, so I can’t tell you what is lie and what is truth. I can tell you my side of things.”
Alexa quirked her lips. Like he could be trusted. But she’d hear him out. She had to know her enemy well to beat him. Especially an enemy as powerful as Tarsuinn.
“I wish you no harm, Alexa Ranger. In fact, I want the opposite.”
“If I die, you win.”
“No.” He looked annoyed, then sad. “I never wanted your death. Nor did I want his.”
“You wanted revenge.”
He shook his head. “How can you understand me so little? Revenge was never the issue. The curse was not punishment.” He began to pace. “You were infatuated with him. Enticed by his standing. Drawn by the forbidden. I had to remove the obstacles. Then you would be mine.”
But according to Cyrgyn, she had remained with her love, spurning the mage and living with the heartache of separation.
“So that’s what you want? Me?”
“Yes.” The simple word was said with such emotion Alexa felt a responding surge in her chest. The man was convincing, she had to admit. And despite her training he saw it.
“I have loved you, Alexa, for a thousand years. More. And unlike your dragon,” he added with a touch of disdain, “I know you. The twenty-first century you. He never knew you.” The disdain disappeared and now he seemed all earnestness. “I’m sure he explained that he was the lord’s son. We were lifetime rivals, and he coveted whatever I had. When your father agreed to our marriage, my old friend decided he wanted you for his own. He filled your mind with poison and turned you against me.”
Alexa knew better than to believe him, but when she used pure logic, she knew it was one man’s word against the other’s. Even her fleeting memories weren’t evidence either way, and could be imaginary, induced by Cyrgyn’s story.
The only factor in Cyrgyn’s favor was her thirty-year friendship with him. Her instinct about his character. And the fact that he had enough power to have killed Tarsuinn long ago if that had been his goal. He didn’t need Alexa for that.
“I’ve been wondering,” she said, switching gears. “Why a dragon?”
His expression changed, seeming to waver between nostalgia and anger. “As children, we slayed dragons with our trusty swords. He revered them. When I formed the curse, it was a natural choice.”
“Sounds kind of childish to me.” Of course, the whole thing was childish, with adult consequences.
“No, it was more thought out than that.” He smiled a hard, bitter smile. “The dragon also happens to be the creature most human in intelligence and emotion, yet the most unable to be with a human.”
Alexa closed her eyes against the pain of that. He’d really wanted to hurt them, and from what she could see, he hadn’t changed.
“So if I become yours, you’ll reverse the curse?” she asked.
“Of course.” He was too smooth.
“And what constitutes ‘becoming yours’? We don’t live in the middle ages anymore.”
“Marriage and consummation will do.”
“And the curse?”
“Reversed on the morning after our wedding night.”
“Hmm.” Alexa circled toward the door. “I’ll think about it.”
Tars’ anger became a tangible thing in the room. The hairs on the back of Alexa’s neck prickled as she opened the door. The knob jerked out of her hand and the door slammed shut. She fought the urge to whirl and looked over her left shoulder, her hidden right hand slipping to the Taser at her hip.
Tarsuinn quaked, one arm raised, his fingers aimed at the door. He took obvious effort at control.
“We aren’t finished.”
Alexa eyed him coolly. She’d learned quite a bit about him today. Most important was that he couldn’t have the upper hand. “We are. For now.”
This time the door stayed open when she pulled it.
The hair on the back of her neck prickled again as she strode down the hall. She hit the elevator button and glanced over her shoulder. Tars wasn’t in the doorway, though she didn’t doubt he knew where she was. She slipped through the nearby stairwell door and jogged down the steps. No way was she going to get stuck in his elevator. At least on the stairs she had warning and room to maneuver.
Nothing happened, though, and the guard at the front desk only smiled politely when she walked past. Traffic was light in midmorning, and she relaxed on the short drive back to the hangar.
Déjà vu took a quick jab at her when she climbed out of the Saturn and watched Cyrgyn moving restlessly across the concrete floor.
“Everything went fine,” she assured him, and went up to the loft to debrief. She liked being at Cyrgyn’s natural level, instead of having to look up at him or have him contort his long neck.
Puff. “So he wishes matrimony. Still.” Puff.
Alexa watched the smoke from his nostrils dissipate as it rose. “Matrimony and consummation.”
Snort. “And he will not reverse the curse until the deed is complete.”
“That’s the deal he’s offering.”
“Out of the question! I will never give you up willingly to that scoundrel. That…evil…mage.”
Obviously, anger had Cyrgyn at a loss for words. Alexa waited for it to play out. Finally he calmed, though she felt like she’d just spent ten minutes in a steam room.
“It might not be a bad idea to go along with it,” she offered. The subsequent roar made her glad she’d picked the hangar farthest from anything. That roar, though not unlike the rumble of a jumbo jet, held too much emotion to be dismissed by any
one hearing it.
“You would betray me this way?”
She laughed, making things worse, but she couldn’t help herself. “Cyrgyn, I wouldn’t betray you, you should know that. I would be sacrificing myself for you.”
The dragon’s giant head swung back and forth. “I would not have you make that sacrifice. The thought of you giving yourself to him pains me more than the thought of living in eternity without you.”
She looked at him speculatively, and Cyrgyn wondered what the mage had said. He could almost see her mind working over possibilities.
“What did he tell you?” he asked softly.
Alexa raised her eyebrows. “What makes you think he told me anything?”
“He is a liar. With three previous lives worth of experience to back him up. He would be quite convincing, I know.” He began to pace again, little though he could. “He was a handsome and charming man.” Still was, he expected. But he wouldn’t ask. “He would have said we were best of friends, yet strongest of rivals. That when he turned his attentions to you, I attempted to steal you from him, bewitching you.”
“That’s pretty much the gist of it.”
She didn’t elaborate, or question him, or deny her belief in Tarsuinn’s words. Cyrgyn sighed. “Of course, there is enough truth to make it believable. To make you question my version of the story. To make you question me.” His voice faded in sorrow with the last words. Alexa moved immediately from where she leaned on the kitchen table to the rail of the loft and reached a hand to him.
“Cyrgyn, I didn’t believe him.” She stretched until he feared she’d fall and allowed her to touch his snout. “I know the stories are your word against his, but I have memories, and well-honed instincts. I knew when he lied.” She forced his eye to hers, and his heart leapt like it had been jolted by lightning. As it had every time she touched him. He had to keep some distance between them.
He moved back and curled onto the mattresses that were already compressed from his weight. Still, they were better than the hard floor. Alexa climbed over the rail and waited patiently. Cyrgyn smiled, remembering her childhood. And though it had been years and she was no longer a slip of a girl, he lifted his tail to her.
Alexa gripped one vertical fin and swung her foot to his scales. He braced for her weight, and when she pulled the rest of herself onto his tail, lowered her to the ground. Her delighted grin was worth the strain. He felt an answering grin in his heart, though it was more of a grimace on his face.
“I don’t understand something,” Alexa said, settling onto one of the mattresses and leaning against a coil of his tail. “Why does the curse have an out? A hint that it can be reversed? Why didn’t he just consign us to our private hell and be satisfied?”
“Ah, an education. First, all curses must be reversible. Either there is a counter-curse, or a repelling spell, or a way either the casting mage or the one cursed can cancel or reverse the effects.”
“Says who? Who wrote the rules for this stuff?”
“The magic did.” She scowled skeptically, and he shrugged. “Magic is not prevalent now, but it was in our day. It comes from an energy created by the earth and all life, and binds us as one. The magic is not a living entity, like a god or other incarnation, but is sustained by life. Life has rules. The Chinese are closest to an understanding,” he explained, “because they have a stronger connection to their past. They refer to yin and yang, to balance.”
Alexa looked interested, and Cyrgyn felt some of his helpless frustration slip away. He did have a role to play here. Theirs was still a partnership.
“The magic is primarily a force of good, though evil must exist to maintain the balance of life. No pure evil—no pure harm—can be committed without balance. Hence, no pure curses.”
Alexa nodded. “Okay, I can see that. ‘More things on heaven and earth, Horatio.’ I can buy the hocus pocus stuff.”
Cyrgyn winced but chose not to chastise her. She would learn.
“And I can understand the way he chose to invoke that balance,” she went on. “He told me his goal had always been me. The reversal of the curse is my incentive to marry him, become his.”
“Which you will not do.” He glared. She glared back.
“I could trick him, Cyrgyn. I can go along with the marriage plan and get him to bring you back.”
“You cannot.” Why would she not understand? “You tried before. He will not be fooled. Even should you manage to ‘trick’ him, you would be forced to keep your word. You would still be his.”
Alexa lurched to her feet. It was her turn to pace. “Why? Why would I have to go through with it, if we got what we were there for?”
“Deceit is Tarsuinn’s tool. It would make you his, as much as if you allowed him to take you.” He strove to level his voice, to use reason rather than emotion. His entreaties never seemed to faze her. What would? “It would make you as evil as he.”
She flung up her hands. “Maybe I am. Maybe after dying three times in failure, I’ve bent. Maybe my evil outweighs my good. Maybe I belong with him.”
Cyrgyn’s eyes burned and he felt a thickness in his throat that he could barely remember, so long ago had he last felt it. His humanness was asserting itself.
“You are not, Alexa. You are human, therefore you have the capacity for both. But you do not belong with Tarsuinn.”
They stared at each other for a long time. Alexa finally broke the tenuous connection and stomped up the stairs. “I need a shower.”
As Cyrgyn watched her, he knew. She was going to try anyway.
Chapter Five
Alexa kept to herself the rest of the day. She hadn’t decided what she was going to do next—she’d let Tars make his move. But she knew Cyrgyn thought she was going to give in, give Tarsuinn what he wanted, and she wasn’t sure she wouldn’t. It would be worth Cyrgyn’s soul.
The dragon had a different perspective, however.
She worked on the computer, researching curses to the limits of the Internet. She could hear the dragon moving around behind her, but he never came close.
One of her phones rang and she sensed Cyrgyn’s sudden stillness.
“It’s the wrong phone,” she called back, then grabbed the secure unit and brought it upstairs and into her bedroom.
“Ranger.”
“Hello, Alexa.”
“Rock.” She held the phone to her ear with her shoulder and started picking up discarded clothes. Maybe after this quest she’d stop being such a slob. She might be living with someone…now that was a strange thought. She’d just go from not knowing this guy at all to living with him? She didn’t know how that would work. Not comfortably, she was afraid.
“Alexa.” Her boss’s deep voice sounded as clear as if he was standing next to her. But she knew better. “Are you over your foolishness yet?” he asked.
“Why? Do you need me?” She clipped her suit pants onto a hanger.
“We always need you.”
She didn’t respond.
“Alexa, what’s going on? And don’t tell me you’re burned out. You love this work more than I do.”
“Yeah, right. Where are you, Beirut?”
Rock chuckled. “Close. But we’re talking about you.”
She hung the suit in the closet and bent for last night’s sleep shirt. “No, you’re talking about me. I don’t want to talk about me.”
“Well, I do.” His tone firmed. From friend to supervisor in three easy words, she thought, amused.
“I want to know when this leave of absence will be over.”
“Ha!” Alexa tossed the sleep shirt toward her pillow. “I resigned, Rock. That doesn’t get reversed.”
“I didn’t accept your resignation.”
Alexa sighed. “Rock, I appreciate that you value me. But I don’t know how long this is going to take—”
“How long what is going to take? Why won’t you let anyone help you?”
Alexa pictured Rock’s face if he ever saw Cyrgyn. He was skepti
cal and disbelieving even when he saw it with his own eyes. Confronted with a giant golden dragon, Rock Davis would be searching for the power source and remote control.
“It’s too personal, Rock. But thanks for the offer.”
He waited, but she had learned from him and kept silent. Finally his sigh hissed through the speaker.
“Okay. But you can come back when you’re done. You know that. We’ll always take you back.”
“Yeah? Your boss feel that way, too?” It was an impulsive question, and Alexa never acted on impulse. There was a good reason for that.
“My boss? Colin?”
“No, forget it.” Yeah, like he ever would.
“Colin feels the same way, you know that.”
“I wasn’t talking about Colin.” She pulled the phone away from her mouth. “Shit. Shit. Shitshitshitshit.” She kicked the side of the bed. “Look, Rock, I’ve got to go. I’ll call you. Eventually. Like on your birthday.”
She broke the connection and tossed the phone onto her messy bed, dropping onto her back next to it. Rock was worse than a bulldog. She had no hope he’d let this go.
* * *
The rest of the day passed quietly. Alexa got frustrated trying to find something useful on curses. Everything was fictional, or fanciful, or historical. She found a lot about talismans and counter-curses, but nothing on reversing a curse once it had been cast. And everything had a tongue-in-cheek or speculative attitude.
Cyrgyn slept, then left as soon as it was dark enough for him to cloak. She wanted to ask about the extent of his abilities—like why cloaking didn’t work during the day—but he held on to his annoyance and she didn’t think he’d be receptive to questions. Especially when Tars hadn’t made his move, and she didn’t know what hers was going to be.
The dragon had enough dexterity to press the button operating the hangar door, and when she heard it rumble she went downstairs to close it behind him.
He glided out onto the tarmac without looking back at her. She watched his wings unfurl and his neck stretch. He inhaled and snorted, and she could see his tension easing as his movements became more graceful. He lifted his forefeet off the ground, flapped his wings once, silently, and pushed off with his hind legs. Despite his twenty-foot wingspan she could barely hear the beat of those wings. She felt her throat swell at his beauty.
Soul of the Dragon Page 5