Firestorm Forever: A Dragonfire Novel (65 page)

“Don’t worry about Marco, Sam. I just had to bring you something.”

To Sam’s surprise, her sister pressed something cold into her hand. It looked almost like an olive and was pretty much the same color. It was stone, though, and had red lines on its surface. Jac’s manner was so expectant that Sam was confused. “Should I know what it is?”

“It’s a Dracontias,” Jac said, as if that was perfectly obvious. “A stone harvested from the brow of a dying dragon.”

Sam had to wonder whether her sister had lost touch with reality. “Be serious.”

Jac nodded. “A Dracontias is a stone that medieval people believed would cure anything.”

“Okay,” Sam said slowly, turning the stone in her hand as she chose a place to begin. “Where’d you get it?”

“From the lost library of Ivan the Terrible. It really is below the Kremlin and I was there and this stone was in the treasury.”

Sam blinked. Her sister had been in Russia? Jac looked completely confident of her story, though, and she
was
a lousy liar. “And they just gave it to you?”

Jac shook her head and dropped her voice. “I
stole
it.” The way her eyes were sparkling made Sam wonder whether her sister was putting her on.

Sam fingered the stone, at a complete loss for words.

Jac didn’t seem to have the same problem. “It’s referenced in old manuscripts. It was harvested in the fourteenth century and kept as a treasure by an aristocratic family,” she enthused. “There are a couple of ways to use it, but I like this one: you just put it in a glass of any poison and it will turn the liquid into an antidote.”

Sam looked at her sister, incredulous.

“It cures, Sam! I’ve seen it.”

“Really.”

“Really. It healed Marco.”

“From?”

“Extensive burns. We were fighting a dragon and he took the brunt of the dragonfire to defend me.” She winced. “He was a mess.”

Sam’s eyes narrowed. “How did you put this stone
in
a burn?”

Jac grinned. “I put it
in
Marco. Don’t worry, we sterilized it afterward.”

Sam tried to give the stone back, but Jac closed her fingers over it insistently.

“No, you have to keep it,” her sister said. “You have to
use
it to find an antidote to the Seattle virus.” Jac squeezed Sam’s hand, her enthusiasm clear. “That’s the whole point. The Dracontias is the key to your dreams, Sam, and the magical thing is that it came to me, so I could give it to you. Use it to become the great Dr. Wilcox who cured the Seattle virus. Make your mark, just like Dad wanted. The third time will be the charm!”

Sam averted her gaze and composed her argument. As much as she didn’t want to hurt Jac’s feelings, this was nonsense and she had to say so.

She took a deep breath, then looked her sister in the eye. “You’re kidding me, right? There’s no magic, Jac. There are no stones that cure all poisons or create antidotes to
everything
. There is no
alakazam
or
abracadabra
in the real world. We don’t do mumbo-jumbo or voodoo at the CDC. We’re
scientists
.”

“But…”

“The Seattle virus is a biological organism, Jac. It kills people. It’s insidious, infectious and constantly mutating. It’s also—so far—impossible to stop. It’s relentless and it’s merciless and I just lost another patient to it this week, which is just about the worst news possible.” She thunked the stone back in Jac’s hand. “If this is a joke, it’s a badly timed one. This isn’t funny.”

“It’s not a joke. Sam! I’m serious.”

“Then you shouldn’t be,” Sam replied. Her sister took a step back, the spark in her eyes fading away.

“You think you know everything, don’t you?” Jac asked softly. “But there are lots of things in this world that you don’t understand, that none of us understand.”

“And there are things I don’t want to know.”

“You could try!”

“To believe in a magic stone? I don’t need to become a joke in my workplace!”

“You’re supposed to think outside the box.”

Sam nodded at the stone. “This is so far outside the box that it’s in another universe.”

“It couldn’t hurt to try.”

To Sam’s amazement, she was almost tempted.

Was she losing her mind?

Or just tired?

“It’s time to heal, Sam. We agreed on that. It’s time to move forward,” Jac insisted. “If not now, then when? We’re not going to live forever.” She grabbed Sam’s hand and pushed the stone into her palm again. “If nothing else, Nathaniel’s death should have taught you that there are no guarantees that tomorrow will come.”

Sam held up the stone between her finger and thumb. “And you’re saying I’d be moving forward by indulging your idea about this stone.” She couldn’t keep her tone from being tart, even though she knew there was truth in Jac’s words.

Just not in this stone.

Jac’s eyes narrowed. “You’d do that by taking a chance on being wrong once in a while.”

Sam winced at the accuracy of that barb, but Jac had already turned away. “We were getting along okay until you decided to talk about dragons and their magic stones,” she said, suddenly feeling even more exhausted than she had before.

“You mean we were getting along okay until I challenged your assumptions,” Jac replied. “The problem is that I think it’s healthy for everyone to have their world shaken up once in a while, even you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sam demanded, but her sister was marching away. Jac didn’t even glance back.

No, she was off to Marco, superman lover and dragon fighter.

Sam flung herself into the car, her guts in turmoil, then started the engine. It was only when she fastened her seatbelt that she realized she still had the stone in one hand.

The Dracontias. Sam shook her head. Honestly, the nonsense that Jac came up with. She sounded like a little kid.

Maybe that was what falling in love did to you.

Still, it might be nice to fall in love again, to believe that tomorrow would come and that it would be worth the wait. It had been good to see Jac so happy and excited.

Sam closed her eyes and saw Sloane Forbes, his chest bare, that stupid dragon tattoo on his arm, a smile curving his lips and sensual promise in his eyes. Her mouth went dry. She felt a little hum inside, but she needed more than sexual satisfaction.

She wasn’t likely to get either anytime soon.

She eyed the stone. She turned it in her hand.

She wondered what it would hurt to give it a try, to risk being wrong.

Then she shook her head and shoved the stone into her purse, impatient with the very idea. No, there was unconventional thinking and there was insanity, and Sam Wilcox still knew the difference.

* * *

Ronnie awakened as the sun was rising, painting the windows in shades of pink and pale orange. It was humid in the greenhouse and lush, several new flowers opening on the red hibiscus bush beside her bed. She was wearing only her pearls. She was entangled with Drake, his body warm and solid against her own, and she felt better than she had in months.

Well, since they’d satisfied the firestorm. They’d loved sweetly and slowly the night before, and though they hadn’t had intercourse, Drake had taken care to pleasure her without disturbing the baby. Ronnie had to think that the boy would believe he’d been in an earthquake, and that made her smile

She ran her hand over Drake’s bare chest and smiled at him, then traced the dragon on his arm with a fingertip. “And how is the Dragon Legion different from the Dragon’s Tooth Warriors?” she asked.

Drake kissed her thoroughly before he answered and tucked the blankets over both of them. Ronnie nestled against him with satisfaction, liking the rumble of his voice beneath her ear. “There is a force known to the
Pyr
as darkfire. It burns blue-green and challenges expectation wherever it appears. I never knew of it in my time, but during the Dragon’s Tail Wars, three crystals were revealed, each holding a spark of darkfire snared within it. Two have been broken, loosing the darkfire into the world, but the one granted to me remains intact. Its spark, however, died.”

“Why?”

“Because its power was expended. The Dragon’s Tooth Warriors were beckoned by the gem and I claimed it, as it commanded me to do. Once I held it in my possession, each time the darkfire brightened in the stone, my company was cast through time and space. At each place, at least one of our members would be left behind.”

“How horrible!”

“It was a wearisome journey and an ordeal, and when it was done, I alone was returned to this time with the stone, and its heart had gone dark. I thought I had lost my entire company and I was certain that my solitude was a mark of failure of the worst kind.”

Ronnie stretched up and kissed his cheek.

“We had suspected on the journey that some of the men were being taken to the time and place of their firestorms. It subsequently turned out that all of the men in my company were taken to their mates. Because we had been enchanted for so long, I suppose we had missed our opportunities, and the darkfire made it come right.”

“Oh! That’s a wonderful story.”

“More than that,” Drake said with satisfaction. “They had their firestorms.”

Ronnie felt her mouth fall open. “They had
sons
.”

“And their sons had sons. Because of our travel through time, history was changed. Suddenly there were generations and generations of
Pyr
that had not existed before our departure. They all have this tattoo. I was urged to get one in honor of my role in their creation.”

“The quest you thought a failure was a tremendous success.”

“We have a better chance in the Dragon’s Tail Wars because of our mission and the darkfire crystal. The men I asked to guard Timothy are of the Dragon Legion. Their leader is named Theo.”

“Just like your son.”

“He is descended from my son, so he is both comrade and blood kin.”

“But you weren’t taken back to Cassandra,” Ronnie said, wondering whether Drake regretted this situation.

He gazed down at her with a satisfaction that made her heart thunder. “No. I was brought to my own firestorm that I might fulfill the promise of the future.” They kissed again, lingeringly, and Ronnie knew her last doubt was banished. She was breathless when Drake lifted his head, the glow in his eyes making her want to preen.

“You must eat to build your strength,” he murmured, stealing kisses between his words. “And today, Sloane will wish to check upon our son.”

“No more stories?” she teased and Drake grinned.

“One more,” he said. “You will tell me of these pearls.” He kissed her temple. “There is a reason you do not take them off.”

“They were my grandmother’s and are the only thing I have from her.”

“Except your memories.”

Ronnie smiled. “She was wonderful, both practical and elegant. She made everything look easy and did it with style.”

“Ah, so you have much in common with her,” Drake murmured, rolling over to kiss Ronnie again.

“We agreed about Mark, if nothing else,” she admitted without having meant to do so. He froze and considered her, his expression confused. “My parents didn’t want me to marry Mark.” She forced a smile. “They thought I’d be unhappy as a military wife and that I could marry better.”

He studied her solemnly. “But you followed your heart.”

“And they disinherited me.” She shrugged, trying to hide the sting of that memory even though Drake’s avid gaze made her feel that he could read her thoughts. “My grandmother died shortly after we were married, but she was the only family member from my side who attended the service. She gave me these pearls that day, along with her blessing.” Ronnie’s fingers found the pearls and held fast to them. “It was all I needed, and so much more.”

Drake might have said something, but he lifted his head and stared at the glass partition that divided the house. His eyes narrowed as Ronnie watched and she saw him inhale deeply. She couldn’t hear anything, but she already understood that he perceived more than she did. “What do you hear?”

“An intruder,” he murmured, then got smoothly to his feet. There was a blue shimmer around his body, like an aura of light, and Ronnie felt that something bad was going to happen.

How could there be an intruder in a dragon shifter’s home? Who would dare?

* * *

Someone knocked on the door of Maeve O’Neill’s Manhattan brownstone. Her home was located on the Upper East Side, on a fashionable but quiet street. The hour was late, but the knock was demanding. Expectant. Maeve frowned. She wasn’t expecting any guests much less any appeals for her assistance.

Of course, the most interesting requests were the unanticipated ones. They came from those individuals with the most to lose. Maeve’s curiosity pricked.

The visitor knocked again, harder and longer.

Maeve went to the window. There was no car or taxi in the street, no one walking by, no fading taillights. From this window, she couldn’t see her front step, although clearly someone stood there.