Flashfire (30 page)

As they did when he felt strongly about something.

“I want you to know, right to your marrow, that I will defend you for all time. I have seen the result of a failure in that—”

“Your dad not defending your mom.”

Lorenzo nodded. “And I will not repeat his mistake. You have my word of honor on that.” He caught her hand in his and lifted it to his lips, his gaze locked upon her as he kissed it. “And I will come for you.”

Even the touch of his lips on her fingers was enough to make her mouth go dry. “I told you, don’t bother.”

He smiled crookedly. “Then I’ll come with you now and change your mind.” His grip tightened on her fingers and he looked worried. “Come with me in the car, Cassie. It’s the best way to ensure your safety.”

“But you won’t force me.”

“I want you to choose.”

Cassie nodded understanding and tried to slow the crazy gallop of her heart. “I still think it’s too risky for me to be in the car. I don’t want my freaking out to be the reason your feat fails.”

Lorenzo drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “I don’t think you should be out of my presence.”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

He gave her a hot look. “I respect your choice. I think you are stronger than you believe and that it would be fine, but it doesn’t matter what I think. The choice must be yours.”

“Even if it’s killing you.”

His smile flashed. “I hope it doesn’t come to that. Maybe the fact that you challenge expectation is part of the reason I love you.”

Lorenzo loved her.

They stared at each other for a long moment. “You could cancel the spectacle,” Cassie whispered. “We could just go to my house in California and you could hide out there. No one would know. I’d make sure of it. . . .”

“I will not hide,” Lorenzo insisted. “I will not cower in the shadows and sacrifice my freedom. I will
make
the future I want to have.” He reached out and took her hand. “I would like that future to be with you.”

Cassie thought about the car. “How long would we be buried in the car?”

His eyes glinted. “Less than an hour.”

An hour. An eternity. She would feel every excruciating second. She’d probably go insane.

Cassie exhaled. She could get some kind of relaxant from Stacy, maybe. Not a sleeping pill because she’d probably have to be mobile, but something to mellow her out. Something that wouldn’t hurt the baby.

“I have to make the deal with the pictures first—”

“Fine.” Lorenzo interrupted her firmly. “There is another choice. If you can’t go through the spectacle with me, even though everything should go according to plan, I want you to be under the protection of someone I trust.”

“The British guy,” Cassie guessed. She appreciated that he was trying to find an alternate solution.

Lorenzo nodded. “Erik Sorensson, leader of the
Pyr
. We have been friends longer than we have been at odds.”

“Okay. I want to get my things, sell those pictures, and check in with Stacy. Shower and change. Is it safe?”

Lorenzo scanned the hotel, inhaled deeply, then nodded slowly. “I sense no
Slayers
in the vicinity. But be quick. I need to defend you until the spectacle begins, whether you intend to join me or not.” He looked at his watch. “I’ll get the windows in the car fixed and be right back.” He gave her a look. “Be here, or I’ll come and find you.”

Cassie was convinced of that.

Once Cassie was in the hotel—away from Lorenzo’s persuasive presence and his conviction—she felt the return and redoubling of her doubts. How much did she really know about Lorenzo, anyway? She knew he was great in bed. She knew he was an illusionist. She knew he had lots of ambition and even more secrets than should be humanly possible.

She also knew that he wasn’t human.

Was he really going to leave his successful life behind and start anew? If so, where? She nibbled her lip, thought about that house and the adoration of his audience, and doubted he would be happy living the quiet life of a recluse.

Had he really accounted for every possibility in his planning for this feat? To face her own deepest fears, all simultaneously, on trust seemed like a lot.

On the other hand, his own past meant that it was hard for him to compromise, even as much as he had. Cassie had to believe that if they could both get past their issues, the reward would be worth it.

She had to take a chance on that future.

But right now, she had work to do. She needed to sell those images of Lorenzo before someone else made that editor happy.

This was the first step to her creative future, a bridge between what she had done and what she wanted to do. The pictures of Lorenzo weren’t fake and they weren’t just for PR—they were the closest images to reality that Cassie had ever taken, and she knew they brought her to the threshold of a change.

She wasn’t entirely sure what she’d do next, but she was excited by the possibilities.

Maybe a fresh start in a new location would be just the ticket for both of them.

Lorenzo had given her this chance, and she was going to make the most of it.

Cassie knew she needed a laptop with an application to crop images. Hers was at her house in California, but she was due for new hardware anyway. She’d hole up in the business center of the hotel until she’d finished her work and made the deal.

Then she’d go back to Lorenzo.

All she had to do was build her nerve to get into that car. Darkness. Falling earth. Closed spaces.

Cassie shivered.

Lorenzo and the future. When she focused on that, it felt more and more like a risk worth taking.

Lorenzo intended to head right back to Cassie, but he didn’t have a choice. He received a panicky call from his housekeeper as soon as Cassie had disappeared into the hotel. His father, it seemed, remained locked in his room and refused to answer any summons from her.

Lorenzo heard what she didn’t say—she feared Salvatore had died.

Lorenzo wasn’t at all convinced of that. He assumed that his father was—yet again—making mischief. But there was nothing for it. He’d have to go home and check.

He dropped off the car for the repair and got a loaner, speeding to the house as the minutes ticked by.

At the house, Lorenzo went directly to his father’s room. He tapped in the security code and the door opened. It was silent and still inside. His own dragonsmoke barrier was thinning already, and Salvatore looked as if he’d fallen asleep on the couch, in his human form. That alone was a warning—Salvatore always slept in his dragon form.

Lorenzo took a cautious step into the room.

His father was smiling slightly.

Utterly still.

Because he was dead.

Lorenzo checked his pulse twice, even though he knew the truth. Then he stood with his hands shoved into his pockets and tried to imagine his life without the obligation of caring for his father, without their constant differences of perspective, without his father’s tendency to make trouble.

He couldn’t.

But he wouldn’t have to imagine it. That would be the reality of his life from this point forward. Lorenzo supposed he should be grateful that they’d had so much time together—so many years to argue!—but he felt cheated.

He had wanted to take his father back to Venice, back to the house he had bought and restored, back to the place Salvatore had yearned to be for so long.

And now he had lost the chance. He couldn’t fulfill his father’s only dream. He’d waited too long to try.

Lorenzo felt like a failure.

He touched his father’s face one last time, then shook his hand in farewell. He sensed that his father’s spirit was gone, although he hoped the old man might be watching from some other dimension.

Lorenzo wondered whether Salvatore had guessed that his time was ending, that he didn’t have to follow Lorenzo’s plans for the future because he wouldn’t be a part of it. It was said that many old
Pyr
could sense their own demise. Maybe that had been true of Salvatore, too.

Either way, it was done.

He left his father’s apartment and spoke to the housekeeper, then went to his office to make the arrangements. His father’s body would have to be exposed to all four elements before it was incinerated. Lorenzo had to ensure that no
Slayer
could turn his father into a dragon zombie, so rituals had to be followed.

Even though they were inconvenient in daylight in human society. He tapped his fingers on the desk, then decided he had no choice but to call Erik.

Again.

Lorenzo used his cell phone and was glad that Erik answered immediately.

“I know,” Erik said by way of greeting.

“How?” Lorenzo was surprised.

“I feel the presence of all of us, which means I also feel the absence of any one of us.”

“You knew last night.”

“He promised her he’d ensure your happiness,” Erik said. “He had no more reason to live.”

“He told you that?”

“Angelina came to me. Since the darkfire, I can see the dead. I saw a dragon with her. I guessed who it must be.” His voice dropped low. “I am sorry.”

“I need your help,” Lorenzo admitted.

He heard the smile in Erik’s reply. “I know.”

They agreed that Erik would pick up Salvatore’s body, posing as an undertaker, and that Lorenzo would meet him in the desert at midnight to ensure that Salvatore’s remains were properly destroyed. Erik was going to summon the other
Pyr
to help ensure that Salvatore’s body was treated correctly.

For the second time that day Lorenzo was glad to have a friend in Erik, and once again, felt a sense of common purpose with the leader of the
Pyr
.

It turned out that there were things he couldn’t manage on his own. For once, he was very glad of Erik’s commitment to the
Pyr
—and for the
Pyr
’s commitment to him.

For the first time, he wondered at the price the flashfire might demand of him. Was he truly ready to surrender all of his dragon nature? It might be a good idea to have some dragon power in reserve if he was going to be with Cassie.

Was there a way he could find out exactly what he’d have to give up? Lorenzo didn’t like loose ends, and flashfire was looking like a big one.

Lorenzo informed the housekeeper of the arrangements, then turned to survey the large painting in the main room. He had an idea. He surveyed it quickly, knowing that he could not leave it behind when he left this place.

The housekeeper followed his gaze. “Your father loved that painting, sir. Even in the few days I’ve been here, I often found him studying it.”

“He did love it,” Lorenzo agreed. “There’s been a collector wanting to buy it for years, but I wanted it to be here for my father. I think I’ll call that collector today, though.”

“It was kind of you to keep it for him, sir.”

Lorenzo nodded politely. “Kind” didn’t really explain his relationship with his father. “I’ll confirm the arrangements, but if past dealings are any indication, this collector will have his team of movers here before the day is through.”

“Very good, sir. I hope you have a good performance tonight, sir.”

“Yes, thank you.” Lorenzo shoved a hand through his hair. The odds seemed to be getting longer, but he had only one more show to get through.

He had to do it.

He called Cassie, but apparently her BlackBerry wasn’t getting service inside the hotel. He’d have to stop by the hotel and find her, never mind the time.

It was later than Cassie had hoped by the time she raced back to the hotel room she was sharing with Stacy.

She was deciding whether or not to confide in her friend—because she knew that Stacy would tell her to join Lorenzo for the spectacle, and because she was pretty sure she shouldn’t be telling anyone about Lorenzo’s plan—when the door to their room was hauled open.

Stacy stood there, dressed from head to toe in vivid blue with eye makeup and nail polish to match. She gave Cassie one look, tapped her booted toe, then marched back into the room and threw herself into a chair.

Cassie knew this expression. It was Stacy’s version of a woman scorned.

“Trouble in paradise?” Cassie ventured.

“JP stood me up! I can’t believe it.” Stacy got up to pace the width of the room. “He came back here last night and it was awesome, and when I woke up he was gone.” She fixed Cassie with an accusing glance. “You, too.”

“I’m sorry. When I called, I thought you’d be busy all night.”

“You must have been.” Stacy glared at her. “Did you have fun, at least?”

Cassie sat down. She couldn’t tell Stacy what she’d been doing, because that would have revealed Lorenzo’s true nature. “Yes and no.” She forced a smile. “Kind of like you.”

“He left a note,” Stacy said, shoving the note in question at Cassie. Cassie read JP’s suggestion that they meet for breakfast, then glanced up at her livid friend. “He stood me up!” Stacy said, flinging out her hands. “He wasn’t there. He’d never been there. I waited an hour and he never showed.” She was so agitated that her feet didn’t stop tapping. “He never called. He’s not in his room, or if he is, he’s not answering the phone. I can’t believe this! I thought he was different.”

Truth was that Cassie had thought so, too.

She remembered that blue shimmer around his body when Lorenzo had approached them. She’d forgotten about that. Did it mean that JP was another dragon shifter? Or had he just learned some of their tricks?

Maybe being a dragon shifter was how he’d learned their tricks. He had been the one to tell her
Pyr
lore.

So why had he been here? It seemed too much of a coincidence—and also could explain the animosity between him and Lorenzo. What was JP’s real plan?

“Maybe something happened to him,” she suggested with care.

“Like what?”

“Like an accident, or a health issue.” Cassie couldn’t stop thinking about that blue shimmer.

How many dragon shifters were in town, anyway? Was this unusual, or were they everywhere, all the time? That defied belief, given how many people were trying to get pictures of them.

She frowned at the note.