Firestorm Forever: A Dragonfire Novel (83 page)

No obstacle could have stopped him. The scale reminded Sam that she didn’t understand everything in the world, that there were truths hidden from human perception and mysteries that remained unsolved. She thought of the
Slayer
in the fridge and hoped he hadn’t healed enough to injure Sloane.

She’d done a little research, trying to learn more about the
Slayers
hatched at Easter Island or Uluru. In the human world, details were few. Sloane had told her more than most people knew. She’d dug into the research that existed on cloning, but didn’t know enough about
Pyr
physiology to make any suggestions that might have been of help to Sloane. She guessed that the Elixir was one of the reasons that duplicating
Slayers
had been possible.

How many more of them would there be? It was impossible to say. Anyone with any sense would have done a test hatching, or two, before unleashing a major force. Would there be hundreds of
Slayers
hatched on the next eclipse? Sam didn’t even want to think about that.

What more could she do to improve the chances of her favorite
Pyr
surviving the Dragon’s Tail Wars? That final eclipse and the turning of the moon’s node was too close for Sam’s taste, only months away.

But she couldn’t think of a thing to do to help.

Sam rubbed her brow in exhaustion and put the scale back in its hiding spot. She turned on the television, only to find Melissa Smith broadcasting another special about the
Pyr
.

In California.

Sam couldn’t turn away from the screen. She perched on the end of the bed, her exhaustion forgotten, and watched the
Pyr
heal Drake’s scale. It was magical and awe-inspiring and made her believe that everything was possible. The night setting in the forest was perfect. She knew exactly where this was being filmed, behind Sloane’s house, and could practically smell the fields of his herbs.

She tried to identify the various
Pyr
in attendance. The one with the missing scale had to be Drake, and she recognized Ronnie. The Smith who was doing the repair? Sam bit her lip. That had to be the guy with the artisan blacksmith business. Quinn.
Here Be Dragons
, indeed. There was something about the diamond and silver one, maybe his sheer size, which made her think of the blond guy with the dragon tattoos.

Once she spotted Sloane—tourmaline and gold, shading from green to purple and back again over his length—she wanted the camera to focus on him exclusively. Of course, it didn’t, but she greedily watched for glimpses of him. The show ended all too soon, the camera showing the starlit night sky as Melissa made her concluding remarks about the
Pyr
and their legacy for humankind.

Sam was left hungry for something she couldn’t have. She’d been talking to Jac regularly, which was wonderful, although her sister’s happy romantic relationship made Sam more aware of her solitude. She was happy for Jac, though, and couldn’t wait to meet this Marco.

She showered and ordered some room service, picking at her meal before she put the tray back outside the door. It was funny that she felt so exhausted, yet was tingling with desire and anticipation. She turned out the lights and went to the window, thinking how the same stars that shone over California were shining here. The broadcast had been live, and she wondered what Sloane was doing now. His house was probably full of
Pyr
in celebratory moods, eating, drinking, and laughing. In a way, she envied him the camaraderie of his kind. He might be lonely waiting for his firestorm, but he’d never be as alone as she was.

She stood at the window and watched the stars slowly move, not wanting to go to bed. The lights of the city gradually went out, buildings fading into darkness and shadows growing deeper. That only made the stars look brighter and closer.

Sam felt as if she were waiting for something, but she didn’t know what it was.

It was almost dawn when she found out. She saw the silhouette of a dragon as he flew past the moon. The moon was in its last quarter and brilliant white in the clear sky. She thought for a second she’d imagined the sight, but then she spied the dragon’s silhouette against the night sky.

Her heart leapt to her throat with a conviction of who the dragon was.

He flew directly toward the hotel, coming steadily closer, and Sam watched him as anticipation grew within her. He was powerful and graceful, and she craned her neck as he flew directly over the hotel. The windows didn’t open, of course, and she was annoyed that she could only see in the one direction. She wondered whether she’d be able to see him from the roof of the building, if there was an exit she could use without setting off an alarm, if her room key would allow her to re-enter the building. She’d taken three steps toward the door, determined to find out, when someone knocked on it.

Sam froze. She swallowed.

Then she ran to the door and hauled it open.

Sloane stood there, smiling at her, a question in his eyes that melted her knees. That he could even doubt she wanted to see him made her want to kiss him senseless.

“How did you find me? I never gave you an address.”

He touched the side of his nose and she remembered what she’d been told about the keen senses of the
Pyr
.

“I saw the show.”

His smile widened. “Was it good?”

Sam nodded, feeling suddenly awkward. “I thought you’d have a houseful of guests after that.”

Sloane shook his head, a little bit rueful. “I do. There won’t be a crumb left in the place by the morning and probably a few sons born in nine months or so.”

“Why?”

“Because we celebrate by savoring earthly pleasures,” he murmured, his gaze dropping to her lips. He lowered his voice to a whisper and lifted one hand to brush his warm fingertips gently across her mouth. “That’s why I wanted to be with you.”

There was nothing to say then, nothing to do but draw Sloane into her room, lock the door, and surrender to his touch.

* * *

Sloane had sought out Sam on impulse, following his heart, and he was glad of it. They awakened together in the morning, their legs entangled and the sunlight streaming through the window. Sam nestled close to him, then kissed his shoulder. “I wish I didn’t have to go to work.”

“I have to head back anyway,” Sloane admitted, then bent to kiss her. He was never going to get enough of this woman and couldn’t imagine how even a firestorm could compete with this.

“Dragons to slay?” Sam teased and Sloane chuckled.

“Something like that.”

“I was thinking about the
Slayer
in the fridge.”

“I try not to think about him.”

Sam twisted to look at him. “What happened when you put the Dracontias into his blood? Did it purify his blood of the Elixir.”

Sloane frowned. “Theoretically, it wouldn’t make him
Pyr
again, because that’s a choice. The Elixir, though, does cause a physiological change.” Sloane realized that Sam was watching him closely.

“Theoretically?” she echoed, her disappointment clear.

“I’ve wanted to try out your idea, but I haven’t been able to work with his blood at all,” he admitted. “It’s so corrosive that it burns through everything. There are holes in the bench now, and in the floor. They might have burned right into the earth below.”

Sam nodded. “The only thing that can contain it then is a
Slayer
’s own body. Interesting. Okay, I see two options. One of the guys I know from school works at NASA. They might have developed something to contain highly corrosive substances. I could ask for a little help.”

Sloane instinctively disliked the idea of bringing another person into the circle of those who knew any of the
Pyr
’s secrets. “What’s the other idea?”

Sam smiled. “Put it in the
Slayer
’s mouth, then take a sample of his blood after it makes a change.”

“I wonder how long it will take.”

“I could ask my sister Jac. She said she used it to heal Marco’s burns, and I think that was pretty quick.”

Sloane looked at her intently. “Jac is your sister? The mate of Marco?”

“Jac is my sister,” Sam agreed, obviously not understanding what he meant. “And her new boyfriend is named Marco. His real name is Marcus evidently, but I don’t know that I’d call her his mate…”

“Of course, she is. They had a firestorm!” Sloane said, interrupting her, and Sam stared at him in shock.

“He’s
Pyr
?”

“You never talked about it?”

“She’s not telling me a lot about him, come to think of it, but we have a lot of catching up to do. I’m glad she’s so happy.”

Sloane nodded, seeing that Sam was still startled by this realization. “Where did she get the Dracontias?”

Sam shoved a hand through her hair. “Jac said she stole it from the hidden library of Ivan the Terrible, in Moscow, but I didn’t really believe her…”

“And she shot Rafferty, on Easter Island, with the darkfire crystal.”

“She went there with some guy, maybe the same guy, but I don’t know if she shot the dragon. She was hunting dragons and I recognized her voice in that video.” Sam sat up. “She came to visit me afterward.”

“Which was why Rafferty kept saying ‘she’ was nearby.” Sloane nodded with satisfaction. “It makes perfect sense. They had their firestorm in Australia, in the spring.”

“Is she pregnant?”

Sloane nodded, wondering what her reaction would be. “The firestorm is satisfied.”

Sam fell back against the pillows, chewing her lip. “Which explains why she’s so happy, and a little bit secretive about him.” She flicked a glance at Sloane. “He had a firestorm because he’s a good dragon, right?”

“Right.”

“Good.”

Sloane had a thought then, one he didn’t want to express aloud. It defied all possibility to him, that another
Pyr
could have a firestorm with the sister of a mate. He realized only then that he’d been hoping he and Sam might have a firestorm one day, but this just proved what wishful thinking that was.

He returned the conversation to the Dracontias. “So, I’ll ask Marco and Jac, then try her strategy on the
Slayer
. And if it works, we could use it—”

“Or pieces of it,” Sam suggested, seemingly as relieved to return to their earlier discussion as he was.

“As an antidote to the Elixir, which will ensure that those
Slayers
who are injured don’t heal as readily.” Sloane nodded, liking the idea a lot.

“A secret weapon.” Sam smiled at him, her hair tousled and her eyes alight. “Maybe enough of an advantage to rid the world of
Slayers
completely.”

Sloane held Sam more tightly, both encouraged and disappointed. “That’s brilliant. You’re brilliant. Thank you!” Sam smiled at him and Sloane knew right then that he was going to ensure she was late for work.

He tried not to think of this interval as their last farewell, but the possibility was definitely in his mind.

One thing was for certain: he would ensure she never forgot him.

* * *

Erik watched for Sloane’s return, standing in the spiral that Lee had created and surveying the sky. The sunflowers were in bloom now and tall around the perimeter, while the calendula flowered in profusion in the middle. It was a spiral of glorious yellow and orange in daylight, all the hues of the sun gathered together. He liked to stand in the middle of it and savor the awareness that he was alive.

What did their future hold? Erik couldn’t see past the final eclipse. He saw dragons battling, a great many
Slayers
resembling Boris, and himself locking talons with at least one of them. He saw the red of a blood moon and a night filled with stars. He felt the great wrench of change, but he wasn’t certain what it would be.

He thought of the children the
Pyr
had brought into the world, and he feared for their futures. Would they died if the
Pyr
were lost? Would they become human? If Jorge was triumphant and the children still lived, Erik had to believe they would be hunted and slaughtered, just to ensure there was no chance of any
Pyr
surviving.

He thought of Zoë, the blood of his heart, and feared for a moment when he wouldn’t be able to defend her, when she wouldn’t be able to defend herself. It was a father’s worst nightmare.

He thought of humans, exposed only to the malice and fury of
Slayers
like Jorge, and feared that all the treasures of the world would be lost in the absence of the
Pyr
.

He wanted to triumph more than he had ever wanted anything in all his long life, but Erik didn’t know what to do. It was impossible to really strategize. It was impossible to form a solid plan. They combed Machu Picchu for potential eggs, but the eggs wouldn’t be identifiable as what they were until the light of the blood moon touched them, and the clones within quickened. All of the clones and Jorge himself had proven that they could spontaneously manifest elsewhere, which meant there were no safe havens. He had conferred with the
Pyr
and gathered their impressions as well as the information they held. He would make the best plan, hope for the best, and dare to believe that the sacrifice of the
Pyr
would not be his legacy.