Firestorm Forever: A Dragonfire Novel (35 page)

They drove to the site where the dragons had been hatched, parked the 4x4, and walked closer, hands locked together. Even after their night of passion, he tingled with desire for her. He was keenly aware of the curve of her cheek, the fragility of her fingers in his, the treasure of her smile. He wanted her again and again and realized that he wouldn’t be easily sated this time.

She cast him a smile of anticipation and Marco liked that their minds were as one in this.

To his surprise, when he and Jac approached the site where the eggs had hatched, a television crew was set up to film there.

He supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised to recognize that the reporter was Melissa Smith. It was true that she had done the other television reports on the
Pyr
that had aired in recent years. Melissa was the mate of Rafferty Powell, the
Pyr
who really was the grandson of Pwyll, the
Pyr
who had been Marco’s guardian for centuries and had kept the darkfire crystal in trust for him.

Marco marveled that he hadn’t anticipated Melissa’s presence, but then he’d been distracted by his desire for Jac. Such distraction could be dangerous, though, and his awareness of how careless he’d been made him doubt the wisdom of the darkfire.

Still, he couldn’t question it. It had to be attuned to the greater good.

“Oh, it’s Melissa Smith,” Jac said when they got out of the truck and walked closer. “She’s the one who does those specials about the
Pyr
.” Jac wrinkled her nose. “The ones where she says they’re good dragons. As if there’s any such thing.”

Marco didn’t reply, though his sense of unease grew. He could feel the darkfire crackling in the stone he had shoved deep into his pocket. It cast a heat into his palm that felt like stabbing ice and he shivered.

“Do you think we can still get a look at the nest?” Jac asked.

Marco shook his head. “They have it barricaded off. Maybe we should come back tomorrow.”

“Are you kidding? There’s the woman who took the pictures. Wow. Maybe Maeve O’Neill is even here!”

Marco didn’t want to see that reporter, ever.

But Jac was excited. “The
Pyr
might show up, because Melissa is filming this. They have in her other shows.” She scanned the sky with obvious anticipation. “It could be the opportunity we’re waiting for.”

Before Marco could protest, Jac ducked into the crowd, making her way to the front with smiles and apologies.

His sense of foreboding redoubled, and he tried to catch up with her. Marco kept his hand locked around the crystal deep in his pocket. When he caught Jac’s elbow with his free hand, he felt the heat of the darkfire redouble.

Jac turned in time to see him wince in pain. “What’s wrong?” Her gaze fell to his pocket, where he obviously held something, and her eyes went wrong. “It’s the stone, isn’t it?” Her excitement was tangible and Marco nodded, sparing a glance for the people surrounding them. “It’s ready to take them out. Maybe it knows they’re coming!”

“I can’t show you here,” he whispered, feeling that the situation was spiraling out of his control. It was a strange sensation for Marco and he didn’t like it. He was relieved when Jac nodded agreement.

She tugged him out of the crowd and a little further down the coast. They hunkered down behind the rocks along the shore, out of view of the people gathered to watch the broadcast. He felt better when they were alone together and when Jac was away from whatever was happening.

At her urging, Marco removed his hand from his pocket, and they blinked in unison, shielding their eyes against the brilliant fire in the stone. The darkfire burned so brightly that it was almost white and impossible to look at.

“Wow,” Jac whispered. “Something
is
going to happen.”

“Stay close and stay down,” Marco advised, then he heard the rumble of old-speak.

“Thunder!” Jac said, scanning the sky. “No, it’s old-speak. They
are
coming!” Her eyes lit and Marco was afraid.

“Stay here,” he commanded, but Jac seized the crystal from his hand and leapt over the rocky barrier.

To his dismay, she ran directly toward Melissa Smith and her crew, her gaze fixed on the dragon regally descending from the sky.

It was Rafferty, come to his mate.

“This is for Nathaniel!” Jac roared.

No. She couldn’t.

She
wouldn’t
.

But she did.

Marco watched in shock and horror as Jac shot Rafferty with the darkfire crystal. She hit Rafferty in the lower gut and the darkfire exploded into blinding light on impact. Then it crackled all around the wounded
Pyr
, like an electrical shock finding a hundred answering sparks. Rafferty lost the rhythm of flight and fell toward the earth, his massive opal and gold dragon form emitting a shimmering blue light.

Marco knew what would happen next. Rafferty would shift shape involuntarily, and the camera crew would broadcast it. Rafferty’s human identity could be revealed, and the Covenant would be broken.

He had to intervene!

Marco shifted shape and leapt into the sky, snatching the crystal from Jac’s outstretched hand as he flew past her. He plucked Rafferty out of the air, shielding his body from the view of the cameras just as the unconscious
Pyr
shifted to his human form. The crowd on the island shouted and cried out, but Marco was deaf to their cries.

It was Marco’s worst nightmare come true. Rafferty was out cold and injured badly. And it was Marco’s fault, because he’d been careless.

Because the darkfire had led him astray.

Marco soared into the sky, thinking furiously of what he should do. He heard the crowd roaring behind him, and he heard Melissa’s cry of anguish.

He was shaken to his very marrow that the darkfire could have betrayed him like this and unable to even think straight.

Rafferty was injured, perhaps fatally so. His guardian, mentor and friend might die, because of his mistake.

It was up to Marco to make this mistake come right.

Marco closed his eyes, exhaled and used the treacherous darkfire to journey immediately to the home of the Apothecary of the
Pyr
.

* * *

“It’s Mum!” Isabelle shouted, racing through the loft apartment in Chicago. She flung herself onto one of the leather couches in the main space and Zoë was right behind her. The younger girl snatched up the remote and turned on the television, and Eileen heard Melissa’s measured tones.

“I’m Melissa Smith and we’re here on Easter Island. There was a sighting last week of dragons taking flight from the island, early one morning.”

Eileen came out of the kitchen and perched on the end of the couch with the girls. The familiar pictures were now being displayed as Melissa spoke. She made no mention of Maeve O’Neill and Eileen didn’t blame her.

“Do you know them?” Zoë asked Erik as he joined them. He folded his arms across his chest and didn’t answer, his gaze locked on the television. He was still pale and even more forbidding than usual.

Zoë studied her father for a moment, then took his mood in stride, turning back to the television.

“These images were taken by a tourist, who has joined me here on the island again today. Welcome, Peg McKay. Can you tell us what it was like that morning? What did you see first, and how did you feel about it?”

“Well, as I told Maeve O’Neill, we were terrified, of course…”

As Peg repeated her story, obviously reveling in the attention, the camera widened the view. In the distance could be seen an opal and gold dragon, flying closer with leisurely speed. The sunlight glinted on his scales and he looked so majestic that Eileen found herself smiling in admiration.

“Dad!” Isabelle said with delight. “Rock it, Dad!” She and Zoë bumped fists then turned to watch again.

“Why do we even have a Covenant?’ Erik muttered with irritation. “How many videos does this make now? The two of Thorolf, the one of Rafferty and Thorolf battling Magnus during Rafferty’s firestorm, the one of these new
Slayers
consuming one of their own, the one of Drake trying to rescue his mate with the Dragon Legion but being fought by Jorge and the
Slayers
…”

“The one of you and the
Slayers
from last week, Dad,” Zoë contributed. “Don’t forget that one.”

Her father’s gaze simmered. “Rafferty in London during his firestorm,” he added, trying to hide his annoyance that the girls were recalling that he had been filmed as well. Eileen knew it annoyed him.

“Plus the one of you, Sloane and Brandt closing the Thames Barrier during Dad’s firestorm,” Isabelle added.

“Melissa’s first television special,” Erik continued.

“You know Rafferty won’t shift on camera,” she chided. “He’s supporting his spouse, defending the
Pyr
and keeping the Covenant.”

Erik gave her a dark look for that. “I still don’t like it.”

“You never do.” Eileen gestured to the television. “If he makes the distinction clear between
Pyr
and
Slayer
, it wouldn’t hurt your PR. Maeve sure isn’t doing you any favors.” The camera panned the crowd, many of whom had placards calling for the
Pyr
to die.

Too late, Eileen wished the girls hadn’t seen that.

“They won’t listen,” Erik replied and scowled at the television. “Humans have an infuriating ability to see only what they want to see.”

Eileen propped a hand on her hip. “And we can’t say that about the
Pyr
, can we?” she demanded and might have said more, but there was a commotion on the screen. She pivoted in time to see blue-green light crackling all around Rafferty’s body, even as he twitched convulsively. He lost the rhythm of his flight and his body started to fall. Melissa cried out, even as Isabella and Zoë did. The girls fell on their knees in front of the television, transfixed. Erik was on his feet, shimmering on the cusp of change.

A dark dragon swooped in from off-camera, a familiar crystal clutched in his claw.

“The stolen darkfire crystal,” Erik whispered. “It’s alight again.”

“Is that Marco?” Eileen asked and felt her partner’s nod as much as she saw it.

Isabelle started to cry and Eileen reached to reassure her. Erik caught his breath as Rafferty began to shimmer with blue light. Eileen knew Erik feared that Rafferty’s human identity would be revealed. Marco flew directly for Rafferty and blocked him from view, either by accident or design. He then flew straight up and away from the island, Rafferty in his grasp.

He glittered with the blue-green light of darkfire against the morning sky, then disappeared, as surely as if he’d never been.

“Just like the other ones!” Peg cried, and Erik turned off the sound.

Isabelle screamed and threw herself at the television. Melissa was talking quickly, her agitation apparent as she tried to end the broadcast. She was holding her ear and looking distressed, the conflict in her posture telling Eileen that her producer was demanding that she not stop broadcasting.

Even though she’d seen her husband shot.

Erik sat down heavily, his shock clear. “Marco’s abducted Rafferty,” he whispered, his gaze lifting to Eileen. She could see how badly shaken he was. “Who could have anticipated such a betrayal?”

Eileen hugged Isabelle close and worried. If Marco and the darkfire had turned against the
Pyr
, were they doomed to lose the war?

* * *

Thorolf was running his regular class in Bangkok, teaching kids and women how to defend themselves with simple physical moves. He liked showing the people in his neighborhood how to keep themselves safe. He’d done it in New York and he continued doing it here. There were some in his informal class who had been abused in intimate relationships, and he liked watching their confidence grow in steady increments.

His lessons had started organically, when the little lady who lived below them had been robbed and had come to the door asking for help. Thorolf had thought she had wanted the perpetrator hunted down and injured, but she wanted to make sure it didn’t happen again.

Chandra had taught her some moves—and Thorolf
had
hunted down the perpetrator—and slowly word had gotten around. As Chandra had become more visibly pregnant, Thorolf had taken over the classes. As the number of students grew, they’d rented a hall from a martial arts school to hold the classes. Cops were sending people to them now, because Chandra and Thorolf taught for free. It had cemented their relationship with their human neighbors and Thorolf found it incredibly rewarding.

The regular class also helped him to keep from fussing over Chandra, who didn’t always welcome his protectiveness. He was terrified by her pregnancy, not only because it was the result of their firestorm and her condition was thus his fault, but because he couldn’t imagine being without her. That Chandra wasn’t inclined to take it easy didn’t help. He didn’t want to argue with her when she was pregnant, but she seemed to forget that she wasn’t an immortal goddess anymore, never mind one who had been able to do pretty much anything imaginable.

On this day, there were three kids in the back who weren’t paying attention. They were huddled around a cell phone, whispering and distracting the class.