Stroke of Fire

by Kira Nyte

  “Seems so. After the Baroqueth attacked Alazar, Cade decided we should all return to The Hollow. Our enemies’ powers have gotten stronger, as have their numbers, and they are actively hunting us here. We don’t have a good lock on exactly how much stronger, or how many of them there are, but enough to be a serious threat. At least on our own soil, we have the magic and power we lack in this realm. We’ve been locating survivors, but pinning down the whereabouts of everyone has been tricky. Many have moved several times since escaping. Names have been changed. Birth records altered. Essentially, anything and everything the Baroqueth could use to make the connection between the surviving Keepers and The Hollow and dragons.”

  “Cade never told Saralyn and me whether you survived before he disappeared that night. He ordered us to protect the dragonstone, but to not use it in any way. That was the last contact with anyone from The Hollow. We had only instinct and hope. Neither one of us gave up hope. When we had Belle, that hope grew. We refused to believe the blessing of a daughter by the Goddess was anything less than a sign that you were alive.”

  “Yeah.” Syn took a drink, licked the beer from his lips, and looked at Giovani. “I was one of the last to make it out. I wouldn’t leave our people unprotected against the Baroqueth wrath. My wings took a few brutal hits. Tore and burned the membrane in several places. I could get lift off the ground, barely, but couldn’t get the speed to break through the portal. Cade eventually got me out.”

  “You’ve fully healed since then, I hope?”

  “What would’ve taken a few days in The Hollow took almost a year in this realm. I kept moving during that time, hoping the Baroqueth couldn’t pin me down and attack when I was weakened.”

  Giovani clapped his shoulder, a familiar and missed gesture of their camaraderie. “I’m glad you’re okay. You’ve always had a selfless heart, Syn. You’ve always been a humble hero.”

  Pride swelled in the Keeper’s voice, but failed to find resonance within Syn. He did not see his actions as heroic. He did what he had to do to save lives. All of his brethren sacrificed so much to save as many lives as possible.

  And still, they lost more than they had saved.

  Heroes were for the humans.

  He was no hero.

  Veering away from that particular topic, Syn asked, “Your emergency account was enough to help you survive the last few decades, I hope?”

  “More than a lifetime’s worth of money. Saralyn and I moved around a bit, as well, until we found a modest place in Upstate New York. A little over three acres of land surrounded by trees and the nearest neighbor about three miles down the road. Saralyn created lovely gardens, similar to the ones she used to keep back home. We’ve lived quietly, simply, leading as normal a life as possible.” Giovani ran a hand over the shorter strands of hair at the back of his head. “I can understand why Cade would keep your survival a secret from us, but why didn’t he tell you we were okay?”

  “Simple, actually.” Syn again rolled his head back to stare at the darkening sky. “He knew I would seek you out to make sure you were safe. That would’ve been dangerous.” Syn extended the tip of one talon and tapped the glass bottle. His scales rippled down his arms, tickling his skin as they brushed the surface of his body. The small door for his dragon to emerge helped the beast settle a bit.

  “We believed by being in close proximity to other dragons and Keepers, we’d pique interest and lure the Baroqueth to us. That’s why we all separated. Cade remained the link between us all, keeping tabs on the dragons and as many Keepers as he could without direct contact. Like you, though, so many moved around and blended into the human world that he lost track.”

  “It’s in our blood, Syn. To protect each other. These last few decades have been stressful. For us all.”

  A comfortable silence settled between them. He sensed Giovani was as content as he to be reunited and safe.

  “Do you miss flying, Gio?”

  Giovani chuckled. “Almost as much as I miss home.”

  “We’ll have to share a ride, for old time’s sake.”

  “Definitely.” A strange current disrupted the calm. “You know, Belle is going to have to learn if we plan on returning home.”

  “In time.” That we don’t have. “Your daughter has her first gallery showing in less than two weeks. I have a feeling she’ll resist any talk about leaving right now.”

  “We were going to book a flight down the day before the showcase. Our trip started early.” A muffled scrape against the table between them drew Syn’s attention from the darkening sky. His heart instantly sped up and he straightened in his chair as Giovani pushed forward an ornate mahogany box lined with delicate gold around the edges. “I’ve kept it safe all these years. I know you’ll want it. For Belle.”

  Syn put his bottle down and lifted the box, testing the weight in his palm. Energy and magic thrummed through the wood, reconnecting with him after all these years.

  His dragonstone, locked away inside power-enforced walls.

  “Here.” Giovani held out a delicate key that Syn accepted. “You have no idea how many nights I held the box, desperate to learn if you were alive. I came close more times than I can count to opening it. To reach out to you.”

  “Cade believes that’s how the Baroqueth tracked Talius. He used the jewel shortly before his death.” He held Giovani’s gaze. “I’m glad you didn’t. It may have kept you safe.”

  Giovani climbed to his feet and stretched his arms over his head. A yawn followed shortly after. “Well, we’re all back together again. I should help Saralyn unpack and check on Belle.”

  “Why do you call her that?”

  A thoughtful smile lifted his Keeper’s mouth. “Her middle name is Isabelle. I’ve called her Belle from the moment she came into this world. Our beautiful girl.”

  “She is beautiful. Quite more, frankly.”

  His body wouldn’t let him forget it, either.

  “Thank you, Syn.” He gave Syn’s shoulder a hard squeeze as he rounded the chair. “We’ll say goodnight before retiring. It’s been a long, stressful day on all accounts.”

  Syn listened to Giovani’s footsteps return to the house, leaving him alone in the courtyard. A welcoming breeze rustled the trees and the plants, stirring the sweet aroma of the flowers that surrounded the peaceful space. The methodical trickle of water from the fountain, the distant echo of music from Bourbon Street, the soft glow of the light strands woven throughout the intimate space added to the magical air.

  He turned the box over and over in his hands, tracing the gold filigree, recalling the last time he’d held the box with his jewel. The weight of the dragonstone inside was evident, displaced slightly more to the front than to the center. The wood was smooth, unmarred. Magic protected the jewel. Only the key could open it. Nothing, not the largest hammer or the strongest machine, could gain access to the contents. Only the key, or magic.

  If he could only find the key to winning Briella’s heart.

  “In time,” he whispered to himself. Maybe the good Goddess could speed things up for him.

  A few minutes later, his dragon stirred and stretched. Heat spread over his back, rolling up his neck and down through his legs. Uncertainty hovered in the deep recesses of his mind—not on his behalf, but that of the woman standing in the doorway behind him. He knew she contemplated the step from the house to the courtyard, from what she once knew to what she was willing to learn.

  Syn stopped rolling the box between his hands and leaned forward, elbows on knees. It didn’t take long before he caught sight of Briella from the corner of his eyes, moving around him from the right and settling in her father’s vacated seat. It took every ounce of willpower not to look at her, drink her in, drown in the sight of the stunning woman who refused to leave his mind.

  He didn’t want to stare and make her any more uncomfortable than she was.

  So they sat in silence, listening to the nighttime orchestra play its natural notes throughout the courty
ard. He relished her nearness, even if she was a table away physically and a world away mentally. He could smell her, hear the steady beat of her heart. It was enough. For now.

  “You and my father must have a lot to catch up on,” Briella said, voice soft, almost timid. “How long have you been separated?”

  “Almost thirty-one years.”

  “Long time.”

  The corner of his mouth quirked. Her attempt at small talk was utterly cute.

  “Yes,” he agreed.

  “Nice night.” She shifted in the seat. A phantom tension touched his legs, one that must have come from the stiffness of her body. “The courtyard is so tranquil.”

  Syn eased back in the hard chair and placed the box on the table between them. He looked at Briella and immediately regretted doing so. Her memory was potent enough without being refreshed. She hadn’t changed out of the flouncy shirt and skinny black jeans. Her hair remained braided, although strands had escaped to fall over her cheeks. He smiled when he spotted a smudge of paint over her temple and along her neck.

  “It’s a nice place to escape and relax after a hellish day,” Syn said. “I had wanted to show you earlier. Figured you’d appreciate it.”

  Briella chewed her lower lip, her head down. She played with the hem of her shirt, her mind running. He watched the turmoil of thoughts play across her face.

  He wasn’t expecting the woman to look at him, dead in the eye, regret in her gaze.

  “Listen. About earlier. When my parents arrived. I, uh, I guess I looked like an idiot. Almost thirty years old and having a temper tantrum.” A strained laugh pushed through her lips. “I’m sorry.” She lifted her hands in a sign of helpless resignation before resting them against her thighs. “I was out of line.”

  “You have no reason to apologize. Stress does funny things to people.” Syn offered her a grin. “I certainly wasn’t on my best behavior today, either.”

  Even in the dim lighting, he could see her cheeks darken and her eyes focus more intently on him. Those full lips separated just enough to turn her innocent look into one of a seductress. She had no idea what she did to him in those precious moments. The subtle signs of her persistent attraction satisfied the aching curiosity he’d suffered since leaving her apartment after their interrupted sensual interlude.

  Syn opted for another sip of his beer. His throat had gone terribly dry.

  “My mother filled me in on things,” Briella said. She started to trace the grating in the tabletop with a single finger. “The more important points, I suppose.”

  “Giving you a full history lesson in one sitting is impossible. Not after the day you’ve suffered.”

  “It hasn’t been entirely insufferable.”

  There. That shy little voice again.

  “Oh?”

  She blinked, then motioned to the box. “What’s that?”

  “Many things.” Syn reached across the table and held out the key he hadn’t relinquished. “My dragonstone.”

  Her eyes flickered and awe filled her expression. She reached to take the key from him. Their fingers brushed. A bolt of heat shot through his arm and down to his groin, taunting the beast and intensifying his poorly controlled desire. The visible shiver that wracked her assured him she felt the same fierce connection.

  “Do your eyes always have fire?” she asked.

  “When the dragon isn’t contained. He’s a beast when you’re around, so I apologize in advance.”

  “Do I need to be cautious of the dragon? Is the dragon separate from you? Do you share bodies?”

  Syn chuckled. “Precious, we are one and the same. The dragon is an extension of myself. There’s only one kind of body sharing I’m aware of.”

  Had he really just said that? Aloud? Sweet Goddess, if her cheeks could get any darker, they’d soon match the shade of her hair.

  “My pitiful attempt at a joke,” Syn said. He released the key to Briella and pulled his hand away before he brought her to him. He had the patience of a saint, according to his brothers, but right now he certainly felt the anxiety of the devil in waiting. “It’s my turn to apologize.”

  “Not at all.” After another delectable chew of her lip, she grinned. “I’ll get used to this, you know. Everything going on. All of these…secrets I’m learning now. I’ll be okay.” Moonlight glittered in her eyes. “I’m not a fragile human being. I have a backbone.”

  “I recall, on more than one account.” He rubbed his neck where she had used the stun gun, then shifted uncomfortably in his seat at the reminder of her painful move against his groin earlier. Yes, she certainly had a backbone, one he appreciated, even if he suffered a bit of pain for it. He was glad she could—mostly—take care of herself.

  “I think I had every right to zap you. You were pretty frightening that night. You can be very intimidating.” Briella motioned to the box again. “You mentioned something to me earlier about a jewel that the attacker might have been after. I didn’t think about it until now, but the night you tried to stop me from going into my apartment, I heard someone’s thoughts about me giving ‘it’ up. I initially thought the voice was yours and your intentions were, um, sexual in nature.”

  Syn narrowed his gaze. “I’m sure you know now that I would never force myself on you.”

  She nodded. “As confused as I’ve been the last two days, I can tell you’re a respectable man.”

  “Good. And the voice?”

  “Wasn’t you. Didn’t sound like the guy from earlier, either, but it certainly wasn’t you.” Confirmation that there was at least one other Baroqueth roaming around. “You have a pretty neat accent.”

  Syn stared at her, then laughed. He ran a hand down his face. Relief rushed through him. She was starting to loosen up. “Ahh, it’s good to know I have something going for me.”

  “More than you know,” she said in a barely audible tone.

  Whether he was supposed to hear that or not, he kept the little tidbit to himself.

  “Was it one of those sorcerers who broke into my apartment?” Briella asked, her seriousness back. Syn gave a single nod. “Do you think this is what they were looking for?”

  “Yes. Without a doubt. If they gain possession of a dragon’s jewel, they control the dragon. The box can’t be opened without the key, but they have the power to unravel the spells protecting the dragonstone. They can access the jewel with or without the key.”

  “But you keep the jewel and the key together?”

  Syn shook his head. “Most Keepers hide the box and keep the key on them, or the reverse.”

  “What does the jewel do?”

  “Many things. First and foremost, it is part of me. It’s an important form of communication between Keeper and dragon when the two are separated. My dragon can see and hear through the jewel. I can track my Keeper through the jewel, as long as the jewel is out of the box. But danger comes with opening the box right now. If the Baroqueth are nearby, they can sense the energy from the dragonstone and trace it to the source.”

  He didn’t want to add to her discomfort just when she seemed to be relaxing by telling her that opening the box, and the connection between her and his dragon, could unleash the wild hunger he barely controlled.

  “My mother said it’s a form of bonding between dragon and Keeper.”

  “It is. When a new Keeper steps into his place, he bleeds into the jewel. In a way, he becomes part of the dragon and myself.” Syn tapped the top of the box. “Generations of Keepers’ blood resides within that jewel.”

  “She also said that I’m next in line to be Keeper. That when I bleed into your jewel, it will be the last time.”

  Oh, sweet Saralyn. In all of her eloquence, she managed to slip that little bit of information to Briella. Syn held Briella’s gaze, gauging his lifemate. Did she really want to hear the truth? Or was she looking for a reason to push him away?

  “You are.” He let out a low breath. “It will be.”

  “Does it have to do with being lifem
ates?”

  And there it was. He could have sagged with relief when she acknowledged their match with a hint of hope lightening her tone.

  “Yes.”

  “Why is that? And is that something you want?”

  Syn contemplated her questions and his response. “Is it something I want? I think it’s something we all want, sweet. It’s something that every Firestorm yearns for. Completion. Being gifted with a lifemate. I’ve lived for centuries. There comes a point in our exceedingly long lives when we realize it’s time to put our mortal clocks into motion. It’s a barter. Longevity for love.” He angled himself toward Briella in hopes of making his point clear. “There is no price tag on love. I would choose love over another half a millennia of life.”

  A delicate crease formed over her brows and her eyes glowed with something deep and powerful. Syn’s chest cinched, his breath difficult to catch. His heart did a strange double-beat that left his head swimming and his body aching. His dragon was in knots.

  “However, I’m not the only one who is affected. If you choose to bleed, to accept the lifemate bond, you gain longevity. You will age more slowly and live far longer than the average human. Younglings require decades of parenting to get them prepared to survive on their own, far more than human offspring do.”

  “I have a choice,” Briella said in a musing tone. She settled into her chair, relaxing against the back. She rolled the key between her thumb and index finger.

  “Yes. You do.” Not that there was much of a choice when the attraction, the pull, turned raw and primal and inevitable. “And whatever choice you make, I will honor it.”

  “Can you?”

  “I will do whatever I must to honor your decision. Simple as that. It will not change the fact that you are in line to be my Keeper.”

  “But I have to bleed into the stone, and if I do, there will be no more after me. What happens if I choose to be Keeper, but not lifemate?”

  Dear Goddess, he hoped she was running through any and every scenario in order to make a wise decision when the time came. The prospect of her denying him would drive him mad. Simple to honor her decision, a completely different story to hold true to his word without losing his mind.