Destiny Kills (7 page)

“But what about the promises you made to Egan?”

His gaze met mine, the pretty blue depths still so cold, yet showing hints of regret and determination combined. “I made no promises to Egan. I agreed to meet him in Florence, but that’s all.”

“So why ask me before if I wanted your help, if you had no intention of giving it?”

“Just playing the game, sweetheart. Nothing more. You want to tell me where the ring is now?”

I studied him for a moment, believing his words and yet sensing something more behind them. Something deeper, darker. “No, because I have no idea where the ring actually is right now.”

“What were you doing out in the Pacific, then?”

“Talking to the sea. It, at least, doesn’t lie.”

Amusement gleamed briefly in his eyes. “Whether you believe it or not, I haven’t told you any lies, either.”

Maybe he hadn’t, but that wasn’t the point. Egan had believed he
would
help, and Trae had not disabused him of the notion. That, in my book, was just as bad as lying and stealing.

Of course, I shouldn’t talk, considering I’d stolen a stranger’s clothes and
his
cash.

“After Egan’s death, I made myself a promise to return the ring to its rightful owner. That’s not you, is it?”

He snorted. “No, we half breeds certainly have no right to
that
particular ring. But I need it anyway.”

“Why?”

He hesitated. “I made a deal with my father. If I give him the ring, he gives me some information I need.”

“It must be some pretty heavy information if you’re exchanging a ring your brother valued for it.”

“Egan didn’t value the ring,” he said, voice edged with annoyance. “He valued what taking it meant.”

“And that makes total sense.” Not.

He waved a hand dismissively. “It involves clique politics and history, and I’m not about to go into that here. Give me the ring, Destiny.”

“Sorry. No can do.”

He uncrossed his arms and took a step toward me. In that instant, the little warmth that had been evident in his eyes fled completely, and the dragon came to the fore. It was like facing a stranger—a complete and utterly dangerous stranger.

This was not just a dangerous thief, nor even the man who’d held the gun at me. This was someone totally new. Someone who didn’t care who or what he hurt as long as he got what he wanted.

And I could see why Egan might have called him in for protection.

“Give me the ring, Destiny,” he repeated.

I lifted my chin, a small defiance that made me feel better even if it had no perceivable effect on the man standing opposite me. “I can’t.”

“Why can’t you? What have you done to it?”

“I sent it somewhere safe. Somewhere where no one can get to it.”

“You gave it to one of your people in the sea?”

I
had
no people in the sea. Mom’s relatives had become virtual strangers the day we’d left Scotland. But I wasn’t about to disabuse him of the notion that I’d given the ring to someone else. The control we sea dragons had over the sea—indeed, any sort of water—was something of a well-kept secret. Well, until Costa Brava, anyway.

Hell, legends had us physically attacking boats of old, and while I’m sure there were some old sea dragons who loved to smash and crash before they looted, most had no need to take it that far. Not when the sea could smash and crash for us.

Trae took another step forward. The ice in his eyes, the tension knotting his limbs spoke of anger and violence bubbling under the surface. I should have been afraid. Very afraid.

Part of me—most of me—definitely was. Yet that last step brought him within a couple of arm lengths, and the raw, spicy aroma of his masculinity washed over me, heating my senses and making my body burn.

I crossed my arms and fought the desire to traverse the distance between us, to fling myself into his arms and taste those uncompromising, yet undoubtedly lush, lips. Think of Egan, I told myself sternly. He deserves the respect of a decent mourning period, at the very least.

Trouble was, the part of me that hungered just wasn’t listening.

I wished I knew whether it was simply lust or something more. I’d never really had a chance to talk to my mom about life and love, and I had no idea what it actually felt like when you finally met the one man destined to be your mate. I
had
talked to my dad, of course, but he could only bring his experiences and his knowledge as a man and an air dragon to the table.

And there were greater differences between sea dragons and our air cousins than just the elements we dominated. Our society was more matriarchal than patriarchal, and it was the women who decided when and if the men could impregnate them. I had no idea, however, if females generally remained virginal before they met their mate, or whether they were able to enjoy the company of others. No idea if me being a half breed had any effect on my sexuality and the restrictions that might have been patterned into my DNA. Certainly I hadn’t fallen pregnant in the ten years I was with Egan, so that again suggested I was more my mom’s daughter than my dad’s, but did the mere fact that I
hadn’t
remained a virgin mean that the restrictions were muted in me?

Was I even capable of breeding? Of having that one true mate?

I didn’t know.

And if I didn’t get my mother out of that place, I might never know.

“Destiny, did you give the ring to someone else?”

I stared at him for a moment longer, then nodded. It was close enough to the truth, and he couldn’t do anything about it anyway. The dawn had gone, and my ability to recall the ring had fled with it. There was always another dawn, of course, but if he didn’t know the truth of the ring’s disappearance, then he couldn’t force the issue.

“It’s out of my reach—and out of my control—for at least a couple of days.”

He swore softly and thrust a hand through his hair. “Damn it, you had no right to do that.”

“I had
every
right to protect what is mine. That ring was left to me by Egan”—a lie, but he wasn’t to know that—“and I have no intention of giving it to anyone until I’m good and ready.”

He made a hissing sound and spun around, his hands on his hips and his head raised. As if he’d rather look at the brightening skies than me.

My gaze traveled down his leather-coated back. He had good shoulders, good shape, and a butt that filled jeans the way the Gods meant them to be filled. But from the back, he looked more like Egan than ever, and though sorrow stirred through me, it was mixed with guilt.

I owed his brother more than just half truths.

“How about we do a deal?”

He turned back around. The wild, dangerous remoteness had left his eyes, leaving them icy and yet human. If you could ever call a dragon “human,” that is.

“What sort of deal?”

“You help me get the security codes—”

“What security codes?” he asked, frowning.

“The codes are for the Loch Ness Research Foundation, where we were held captive for so long.”

His frown deepened. “Why would you want those?”

“Because my mom’s still there, as are the kids, and because I promised I’d go back and free them. And I intend to keep that promise, no matter what it takes.”

He considered me for a moment, then said, “That’s pretty brave.”

“Or pretty stupid,” I muttered, and knew which one would win my vote. “Once we get the codes, if you can then get me to Maine, enough time will have passed for me to be able to recall the ring and give it to you. That way, you can have the ring within days, and I get the protection and help Egan wanted me to have.”

“What’s in Maine that’s so important?”

“My dad. He’s dying.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“So am I.” But I was also angry—at the scientists for keeping me away for so long, and at myself for so stupidly leaving him in the first place. “Do we have a deal?”

“I think I could live with a deal like that.” His gaze rested on mine and played havoc with my heart rate. And I wasn’t entirely sure if the cause was the heat that surged between us or the dragon spark that seemed to glow deep in his eyes. “But be warned—if you’re playing me for a fool, or if you betray me in any way, you will regret it.”

“I’ve got too many regrets in my life already, Trae. I don’t intend to add any more.”

“Good. Where do you want to go first, then?”

“Florence,” I said, and walked around to the passenger side of the car. The car beeped as I approached the door and lights flashed. I wondered where he’d gotten the keys from, decided I didn’t want to know, then opened the door and climbed in.

“So who are we going to steal the codes from?”

“From a Louise Marsten, mother of Doctor James Marsten, who is the founder of the Loch Ness Research Foundation and chief tormentor of all things dragon.”

He started the car and drove out of the turnaround, then asked, “How many of you were there in this place?”

“Three adults and six kids, the youngest of which is only seven.”

“Seven? Bastards. What the hell were they doing to you all?”

I snorted. “What do scientists the world over do with the new species of animals they’ve discovered?”

“We can hardly be classed as animals—”

“In their minds we can, because we turn into monsters that shouldn’t exist.” I rubbed my arms, but it didn’t do a lot to ward off the sudden chill. “They prod, they poke, they examine, and they cut. They put us through hoops and they expect us to be happy about it.”

“But, as you pointed out, we can turn into monsters. Why didn’t you, and just get the hell out of there?”

“Because for many years, we didn’t realize they were drugging us.”

“You should have destroyed them while you had the chance.”

“We couldn’t. We barely escaped as it was.” And only because the scientists had been too busy fighting the fire that had taken the life of one of their own, and had almost claimed ours.

I looked away, watching the buildings, shops, and houses coming to life as people began waking to the new day. Longing flicked through me. For too many years, my life had been one of white walls and bright lights. And air so cold it could turn the skin blue—which wasn’t such a problem for me and my mother, but it had certainly been one for the air dragons. The scientists had discovered fairly early that cold limited their movements, restricting their fire and making them extremely sluggish. Which of course, had proved a big problem for Egan. But it had been an even bigger one for the kids—especially Carli. The small brown dragon had been the first of the young ones snatched and she was still the youngest of them all—she’d barely been three when she was taken, and she was only seven now.

It was Egan who had realized that the cold was killing her, and he who had insisted that they turn the heat up in both her room and in the common rooms. For some reason I’ll never understand, the scientists had actually listened. Maybe they just didn’t want to lose their only female air dragon. But it was around that time they must have begun increasing the dosage of the drugs they’d been giving us—so much so that we actually started tasting them.

It was a realization that had begun our plot to escape.

But those plans had taken a very long time to come to fruition, I thought, my gaze lingering on the warmly lit homes zooming by. God, the luxury of waking in a home, surrounded by family, was not something any of us had experienced for a very long time. My capture might have been my own stupid fault, and Egan’s had apparently been due to carelessness, but most of the kids had been netted in those magical, mystical hours of dawn and dusk, when young air dragons rode the energy in the air, trusting the still-flaring skies to hide their forms as they attempted to master the wind. They’d been easy pickings for the older hunters who’d been high above, waiting for that one who strayed a little farther from flock than they should have.

And to take a
three
-year-old? Hunters who would do such a thing—who would not only betray their own but tear families apart for the sake of money—disgusted me. I think I hated them more than I hated the scientists.

At least we’d taken one of them out in San Lucas, which meant there would be one, maybe two, hunters left on my trail. That I knew of, anyway.

I tore my gaze away from the roadside and looked at Trae. The golden light of dawn shone through the windshield, washing across his features, making the spiky bristles lining his chin gleam like molten gold.

I have to say, twenty-four-hour whisker growth on
this
man was incredibly sexy.

“Tell me about the ring,” I said, as much to keep my mind off desire as to find out the history behind the ring.

He shrugged. “It’s basically the king stone, and it was Egan’s by birthright.”

“Why?”

He looked in the rearview mirror, then said, “Our father is the king of our clique, and Egan was the first-born pure-dragon son. As such, he was heir to the family fortune.”

“And throne?”

“Possibly.” He glanced at me. “I’m surprised that he didn’t talk to you about all this.”

“As I said, he wouldn’t. All he’d say was that the past no longer mattered.” I studied him for a minute. “Was that because of this Sila you mentioned earlier?”

“Undoubtedly.” Though his voice was flat, without emotion, the heat of his anger swirled around me, scorching my skin.

“What happened to her?”

“My father happened.”

“He tore them apart?”

“He killed her.”

“What?”
I stared at him, horrified. “Why?”

“Because my father’s eye was always on the greater prize. Sila was a black dragon with no family links that would enhance the clique’s position and standing in the dragon community, and therefore useless in his eyes.”

“He killed her because she didn’t have the right
connections
?”

“Afraid so.”

My God . . . “Your father sounds like a murdering bastard.”

He snorted softly. “That’s the understatement of the year.”

No wonder Egan hadn’t wanted to talk about the past. No wonder nothing had really mattered to him anymore—at least until the kids had come along. He’d lost the woman he’d loved and, as a result, had simply closed up and retreated emotionally.