Kiss of Fire (23 page)

It wasn't long before the trio of
Pyr
swooped down toward an isolated cabin. Three
Slayer
s on the roof launched a volley of dragonfire toward them, without troubling to take flight. Quinn took the blast, protecting Rafferty and Niall from potential damage. They wheeled as one and ascended to a greater height.

Quinn could still feel his blood simmering from proximity to Sara. “She's in there,” he said in old-speak.

“I can even feel your firestorm,” Rafferty said with reverence.

“I have to go in,” Quinn said, pivoting to dive back down to the cabin.

“The smoke is piled thick and high,” Niall argued. “You'll never come out alive, Smith.”

“You might not even get in alive,” Rafferty said.

Quinn knew it was true, but he couldn't just wait. “I can't leave her there!”

“You'll accomplish nothing if you both die,” Niall retorted. “She can be reborn, but you won't be. We can't afford to lose another
Pyr
.”

“I can't surrender my mate to the
Slayer
s.”

Rafferty interrupted, his tone thoughtful. “You don't have to. And you don't have to die.”

“You can't be encouraging him,” Niall said. “Attacking is certain death. There are three
Slayer
s on the roof. Who knows how many others are close by, and there's a serious territory mark. Even if the Smith can survive that much dragonfire, he'll never breach that smoke twice and live to tell about it.”

“You don't know that,” Quinn argued.

“Neither do you,” Niall snapped. “Are you prepared to die to find out?”

Before Quinn could answer, Rafferty continued. “He doesn't have to, because there's another way.” He fired a bright glance at Quinn and smiled. “I'll do this for your firestorm.”

“Do what?”

“Trust me,” Rafferty said and flew away from the cabin. Quinn exchanged a glance with Niall, then followed the other
Pyr
with reluctance.

Trusting other
Pyr
was a new concept for Quinn, after all.

In fact, if he'd been able to think of another solution, any other solution, he would have done it instead.

“Help me, please!”

The woman's moans awakened Sara once again.

This time, at least, the woman wasn't screaming.

It was hot and muggy, as if Sara had left the windows shut for the night. She was covered with a shimmer of perspiration and the air was thick and hard to breathe. Her back ached as if she'd slept on something hard.

Her dreams were getting worse. Sara opened her eyes, pretty much expecting to find herself home in bed.

Instead, she was in a rough log cabin. The windows had been boarded over and the door was solid wood. The only light came through the chinks between the logs. The sunlight seemed pale and thin, the way it did in the early morning. The floor was hard-packed dirt and that's what she'd been sleeping on. She was still wearing her clothes. Sara scrambled to stand up and realized that she wasn't alone.

A blond woman lay on her side on the other side of the cabin, her pale arms pillowing her head. There was dried blood on her arm and her ankles were shackled together. Her eyes were bright and of the most remarkable turquoise shade. They glinted as she watched Sara, and Sara guessed instantly who she was.

“You're the Wyvern,” she whispered with awe.

The woman nodded weakly. “Or you can just call me Sophie.”

“I hear you in my dreams.”

“Yes, I know.” The Wyvern smiled slightly. She seemed to be lethargic—or maybe she was hurt.

Sara eased closer, trying to see the dried blood better. “Are you all right?”

Sophie almost laughed. “Are you?” She sighed, not waiting for an answer. “I am sorry, Sara. They asked me for your name and I surrendered it to them. I was afraid, but I should never have told them.”

“They were hurting you. What else could you have done?”

“You may not be so forgiving if they kill us both.”

Sara crouched beside the other woman. She could see that the Wyvern's wrists were also shackled together and a heavy chain ran between her wrists and ankles. “They aren't taking any chances, are they?”

“Shape shifting is an unpredictable business,” Sophie said and looked away. Sara sensed that she was hiding something.

“Can you become anything other than a dragon?” she whispered.

Sophie looked at her intently and shook her head. “Of course not,” she said, but there was a current of steel beneath her words. “That's just mythology.”

Sara understood that the Wyvern could take other shapes.

She also got the message that they were being watched.

Her gaze dropped to the dried blood on Sophie's shoulder. “Do you want me to look at that?”

Sophie's words were tinged with humor. “Are you a healer as well as the Seer?”

“No, but I was a Girl Scout. I can wash a cut as well as anybody.”

Sophie smiled and rolled to her stomach. Her hair fell over her shoulders in a tangle, but it was the most beautiful and ethereal pale blond that Sara had ever seen. It might have been made of silver. Sara eased its silkiness aside and winced at the length of the gash across the Wyvern's shoulder. It had scabbed over, but even in this light, Sara could see that there was red puffiness at one end.

“I think it might be infected.”

“How surprising, in such conditions,” Sophie said, a thread of laughter in her tone. She sighed again and Sara wondered how much blood she had lost. If the wound had been left untended as it appeared to have been, it could have been quite a lot. Sophie certainly couldn't reach it herself, not with those shackles.

There was a bucket of water inside the door. “Is that for you? All the way over there?”

“They enjoy watching me slither on my belly,” Sophie said, and again Sara heard that force of will in her voice.

“Is it clean?”

“Clean is a relative term.” Sophie licked her lips. “If they wanted to poison me, there are more effective ways to do so than with polluted water.”

Sara had enough rudimentary knowledge of emergency care to treat a basic wound. The water smelled as if it had been drawn from a river or pond, and using it to clean the wound might add to Sophie's troubles.

Sara's purse was dumped on the floor inside the door as well, its contents clearly having been rummaged through first. She habitually carried some sanitary wipes, for those scary moments in public restrooms, and they were still there.

She warned Sophie to expect the sting as she tore one open, and did her best to disinfect the wound. The scab lifted away easily, revealing a pocket of infection that Sara also cleaned away as well as she was able. It bled a bit, but the blood was clear and bright. Sophie quivered beneath Sara's ministrations, but didn't complain.

Sara tore a strip of fabric from the hem of her dress to make a makeshift bandage. “I meant to shorten it, anyway,” she said when Sophie looked alarmed. Sara helped the Wyvern to sit up and used another wipe to clean her companion's face.

“That feels wonderful.” Sophie sighed with pleasure and closed her eyes.

“Washing my face makes a huge difference in the middle of a long travel day.” Sara grimaced. “Or a bad travel day. With these, I can do it anytime anywhere.”

Sophie slanted a glance at Sara. “Funny. I did not think that you traveled much.”

“I don't anymore.”

“Since?”

“Since everything changed.” Sara sighed. “I used to have a fistful of frequent flier cards and hotel guest cards.”

“A glamorous life.”

“An exhausting one. It paid well,” Sara admitted. “But money isn't everything. I learned that this year.”

“By losing what you had not realized you held so dear?”

“How did you know that?”

Sophie smiled enigmatically and said nothing.

“Anyway, I decided it was time to make a change and I did.”

“You chose to pursue your desire for a home to call your own. A place to put down roots.”

Sara felt self-conscious beneath that considering gaze. “Well, sure. I've always had this fantasy of planting a tree from seed and being there, in the same place, when it was big enough and tall enough for me to sit under it and read.”

“An enchanting vision.”

“Hasn't happened yet.” Sara opened her purse instead of thinking about her current predicament. “This was a recent decision, and I haven't cleaned out my purse yet. I'm still ready for scary bathrooms and twenty hour travel delays.” She dug a brush and comb out of her purse. She waved them like the trophies they were and Sophie's eyes lit with anticipation. Sara set to making some order out of Sophie's hair.

“I can't begin to tell you how good that feels.”

“I think I know,” Sara said and the women exchanged a smile. When she was done, Sara dug through her purse some more. Her wallet was still there and the book on the Cathars was jammed in the side. Magda's tarot cards were safely nestled in their red velvet bag and her keys were at the bottom, just the way they always were. The Swiss Army knife was gone, but that would probably have been too much to hope for.

“Breath mint?” she asked Sophie, holding up two packages.

“That bad?” Sophie asked with a wince.

Sara smiled. “No, but it might be the best we can do in terms of nutrition. Spearmint or peppermint?”

“I like a balanced meal. How about one of each?” Sophie opened her mouth. Sara put the two mints on the Wyvern's tongue, then had a pair herself. She leaned back against the wall beside the other woman to consider their prison.

“I'll guess that the door is locked and that there's no other way out,” she said finally.

“You are the Seer,” Sophie teased.

“Are you really a prophetess?”

Sophie sighed. “Yes, but prophecy is a mysterious business.”

“You mean in terms of how it works?”

“I mean in terms of what it means.” Sophie shrugged. “My visions are not even as clear as dreams. And the verses that come to me are so enigmatic. It is hard to know what they mean.”

“Like riddles.”

Sophie nodded. “Sometimes they make sense only in hindsight.” She shrugged. “Or perhaps I am not very good at my craft.”

“Don't say that! Everyone needs time to learn.”

“I did not anticipate these
Slayer
s coming for me.”

“Even if you had, it might not have made any difference. They're pretty brutal and you're just one Wyvern.”

Sophie shuddered. “Brutal does not begin to describe them.”

Sara looked around the cabin. “So, how are we going to get out of here?”

“We are not, not unless someone breaks in and releases us.”

“I'm not waiting,” Sara said and pushed to her feet.

“Is that so?”

Sara ignored the Wyvern. She prowled the perimeter of the cabin and peered through the cracks between the logs. All she could see was forest on all sides.

That didn't mean they were alone, though. Screaming might just annoy their captors, if they were around.

Where could they be?

On the roof?

Sara looked up at the trusses that held up the steel roof, then at the Wyvern. Sophie nodded once, so quickly that Sara almost thought she had imagined the gesture.

“You will tire yourself out for no good reason,” Sophie warned, her tone despondent, but Sara saw the glint of determination in her eyes.

Sara tried the door, not really surprised to find it locked and barred from the other side. The boards over the windows must have been nailed down in two layers, judging by the pattern of light that came through the chinks. Without tools—and breath mints hardly counted—she couldn't break out.

Every puzzle has a solution.

Sara heard her father's voice echo in her thoughts, his familiar saying uttered with such conviction that she half thought the
Slayer
s would hear it.

Maybe Quinn would come for her. She pivoted to face Sophie, struck by a thought. The Wyvern's eyes glinted with watchfulness. “Is there smoke?” Sara mouthed the words, hoping the Wyvern knew she meant the
Pyr
's territory mark.

Sophie nodded once, so emphatically that Sara couldn't misunderstand. “They breathed it together,” she mouthed but Sara refused to accept defeat. “It is stronger that way.”

Quinn couldn't come to her and neither could the other
Pyr
. Unless they were permitted to pass through the territory mark, which could only be an invitation to disaster.