by Keri Arthur
“We have our backers, Mercy, and I sleep very well, trust me.”
Of that I had no doubt. A man so out of touch with anything resembling humanity wasn’t ever likely to be attacked by guilt. “Even so, you can’t possibly think the other cliques are going to let two murderers usurp the council.”
“Oh, but they already have. I’m sure the muerte has already mentioned Montana. It set a precedent—one the current kings will sorely regret.” His smile was cold and arrogant. “Our king’s succession document is not the only one that has been changed.”
So Damon’s guess had been right. This was about taking over the council. “The council knows about the plot. You won’t succeed.”
He gave me a condescending smile. “If the council knew, the muertes would have been unleashed and we would be dead. No, this will be done properly, the deaths will all take time and look accidental, and no one will be the wiser. Not until it is far too late, anyway.”
I glanced past him again, studying the growing shadows and wondering what the hell Damon was doing. His song continued to reverberate through my soul, growing in strength, but it gave me no real idea of his location. He could have been just outside the door for all I knew.
“The mere fact that it’s you who’s becoming one of the kings is reason enough to stop this mad scheme.” His attitude toward draman was worse than most. “You said there were two reasons I’m here.”
“The other is, of course, information. We made the mistake of trying to kill you far too early once before. We shall not make the same mistake again.”
“What do you need to know?” I asked, my gaze shifting briefly as one of the shadows behind him moved ever so slightly.
Damon, here in this room. My inner dragon felt him, but there was no sense of awareness otherwise, no scent to give him away. He was a shadow who didn’t seem to exist in any physical way. Part of me wanted to dance, the rest of me just tensed up. I knew a muerte should have been more than capable of taking out a couple of dragons, but Seth had never been just an ordinary dragon.
It was a point he proved by suddenly producing a gun from under his jacket and spinning around. The sound of the shot reverberated loudly in the metal confines of the refrigerator and light flared briefly, causing little pinpoints of brightness to momentarily burn into my retinas. Fear twisted my heart. But I thrust it aside and launched myself at Tomi, who was slower on the uptake than Seth and yet probably no less deadly.
Even with the heat I’d stolen, my reflexes were still far too slow. Seth saw me coming and twisted around, firing the gun a second time. I twisted around, felt the bullet burn past me, leaving behind a stinging, bloody streak on my side. I fell into Tomi and he wrapped an arm opportunistically around my neck, but I grabbed the hand holding the weapon, forcing the gun up as he fired. The bullet bit through the ceiling above us and bits of metal and freezer lining showered down.
“Let go, bitch,” he muttered, shaking me roughly from side to side like a rag doll.
“Not on your goddamn life.”
The words were forced through clenched teeth as I fought to retain control of his hand while keeping my shoulders hunched in an effort to stop him from strangling me.
I was vaguely aware of Seth fighting with Damon, who was still little more than a shadow, but that awareness bloomed as the two of them hit us. The sheer force of their weight sent us all sprawling to the floor, with me on the bottom. For several seconds, stars danced across my vision and my breath came as little more than labored grunts. Even so, my dragon snapped to life, the contact with Tomi allowing her to suck in more of his heat. He swore softly and thrust an elbow backward; the blow barely missed my cheek. Body weight shifted, then Seth was up and running, with the shadow that was Damon in pursuit.
Leaving me with Tomi.
I wrapped an arm around his neck and hung on grimly as he struggled and swore. His body flamed, and the heat of him burned against my skin—a delicious fire that helped melt more of the iciness from my bones.
He snuffed it out the minute he realized he was helping rather than hindering me, then somehow wrenched his arm around and fired at my legs. The bullet bit into the side of my calf, and pain bloomed, forcing a yelp from my lips. My grip weakened. He scrambled up in an instant but I rose with him, striking low and hard at his kidneys. He fell backward again, forcing me to sidestep in a hurry. As he hit the floor, I stuck again—this time with two stiffened fingers at the point just below his Adam’s apple. It left him gasping for air, and I used those few precious seconds to rip the gun from his hand then leap over his body and bolt for the door. I had barely closed and locked it before his weight hit the other side.
“Bitch!” he yelled, “Let me out.”
“Not on your goddamn life,” I muttered, glancing down at the gun in my hand, then dropping it into the barrel of water at the end of the building.
For a moment I did nothing more than stand there, sucking in the ever-growing power of the dawn. It chased away the last of the cold and stoked the embers deep in my soul.
Then I turned around and looked for Damon and Seth. A scream of inhuman rage jerked my gaze skyward, and my heart just about slammed into my throat. High above me, two dragons battled, one gold, one black, both equally huge.
Seth screamed again, wheeling about in the brightening skies, slashing at Damon’s dark hide with razor-sharp claws. He caught flesh, tearing deep, and blood sprayed. A scream tore out of my throat, but I clapped a hand over my mouth, stopping it before it could pass my lips. Damon didn’t need any distractions right now, and Seth certainly didn’t need to know I was out of the fridge and free.
Damon dived, the growing sunlight playing across his dark scales, setting them ablaze with fires of purple and red. He twisted around, then somehow belly-rolled, coming up under Seth. His bared teeth sank deep into the other dragon’s tender underside, then he shook his head, whipping Seth to and fro. Seth’s fury boiled across the air, his scream so high it hurt to hear it. His claws raked the air, missing Damon’s bleeding side by mere inches, then he lashed out with his tail, the whiplike strike forcing Damon to release him. Damon dropped away, spitting out a chunk of flesh. Then, with a mighty sweep of his wings, he drove upward, obviously trying to get above Seth.
Seth saw him and banked around, coming in fast, teeth bared and a blazing look of hatred twisting his serpentine features. Damon slashed with his claws and spun away, still driving upward, still trying to get the advantage of height.
But the gold dragon was just as fast as the black.
Maybe I could do something about that. Maybe I could distract him enough to give Damon the upper hand.
I spread my arms wide and called the power of the dawn, letting it burn unchecked through my body—a maelstrom of energy that my dragon struggled to contain.
When I opened my eyes, the black dragon was chasing the gold, the powerful sweep of their wings causing wind to batter the trees and rooftops below them as they swept down from the sky.
I clenched my fists, heat blazing across my fingertips—a whirlpool of power that made my hands glow. Closer and closer the two dragons came, until the air around me filled with dirt and debris and all I could see was the fury in the gold dragon’s eyes.
I raised my hands and flung a wide band of flames directly at his face. Even as they arced upward, I reached deeper into myself, gathering all the energy I had, channeling it into my fingertips and then outward—this time as two needle-sharp spears that moved with blinding speed.
The broad band of flames slapped across Seth’s face. He snorted, shaking his head, his scales absorbing the impact, using it to fuel his own energy.
But he didn’t see the second, smaller spears. He couldn’t have, because he looked right back at me. And in that moment, the spears hit, burning deep into his retinas and destroying his sight.
He screamed—a harsh and painful sound. His wings jerked upward and he struggled to maintain position. And that was when Damon hit him, his claws si
nking deep into Seth’s back, the weight forcing him earthward as Damon’s head snaked around and latched on to Seth’s throat.
They hit the dirt so hard the earth under my feet shuddered, and went rolling in a tangle of bodies and legs that made me fear for Damon’s wings. Blood spurted and there was another horrible scream that ended abruptly as Damon bit again.
The gold dragon stilled.
The black dragon struggled to untangle himself from the other then rose, one wing dragging as the blue shape-shifting fire began to crawl across his body, encasing him in its unearthly light as he transformed from dragon to human.
I was limping toward him before that transformation was completed, and launched myself at him the minute he reappeared. He grunted, a sound that contained pain, and yet his good arm held me with a fierceness that said he didn’t care.
“Thank God it’s over,” I murmured, trembling as I wrapped my arms around his neck and held on tight. He smelled of sweat and blood and fading anger, and never in my life had I inhaled anything sweeter.
For several seconds he didn’t say anything, just held on tight. In that moment, it would have been very easy to believe I was the most precious thing in his world.
After several minutes more, he shifted back slightly, then lifted my chin with a gentle finger and kissed me.
It was a kiss that was rich and warm, sweet and yet so filled with emotion that it made my heart ache. A kiss that said so much, yet one that left so much more unsaid.
When we finally parted, he brushed my cheek with the back of his hand, then stepped away and said, “I have to go.”
No. Not so soon. It can’t be over so soon. “But your arm is broken. You can’t fly.”
“I can steal a car, and there’s a medical kit in one of the bunk rooms. I can reset broken bones. It won’t be the first time I’ve done it.”
“But—”
He touched my lips gently, silencing me. “It’s not over yet. Hannish still needs to be caught—and now, before he has any chance to run.”
“But the only real evidence we have that Hannish is involved is the land purchase documents. Both Seth and Leon are dead, so they can’t really testify against him.” I hesitated, then added, “And the council isn’t likely to give too much credit to what either Tomi or I say. We don’t matter in their eyes.”
“You matter,” he said, voice gentle and dark eyes suddenly blazing with emotion. “Don’t ever believe otherwise.”
Say the words, part of me wanted to beg. Admit what you feel. But his admitting what he felt was a moot point, so I held my tongue. He was still going to walk away regardless. He’d decided that long before we’d met, and I had no reason to believe anything we’d shared would change that.
Not even the fact that his song rang clear and true in my mind.
“No matter what you might think, the council is not likely to take the word of two draman against that of a king’s heir,” I said softly, “which means it comes down to your word against his.”
“Not so,” Damon said. “Didn’t you wonder why I left you in that fridge, and in Seth’s hands, for so long?”
I studied him, hating the distance he was keeping between us and wishing I had the courage to lessen it myself. But I didn’t want him retreating any farther, and I suspected that’s just what would happen if I did attempt to move closer. “Well, now that you mentioned it, I think I did throw a few curses your way for not riding to the rescue sooner than you did.”
He smiled. “The ability to shadow is not the only reason certain dragons are chosen for this job.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Well, what a surprise. There’s something else you’ve failed to tell me.”
He laughed—a warm, rich sound that sent delighted shivers racing across my skin. “You have no idea just how much I actually have told you. More than anyone else, even my family.”
Maybe he had, but it wasn’t nearly enough, because he wasn’t telling me the most important thing of all.
He wasn’t telling me what he felt.
It didn’t matter that his emotions were evident in his kiss and his touch, or in the way we were so in tune with each other. I still needed to hear those words. Maybe there wasn’t any hope for the two of us, but surely he could just admit what he felt. I wanted to hear it, just once, so the words would keep me warm through the long nights ahead.
That wasn’t asking too much, was it?
But he didn’t say the words and probably never would. For several seconds I had to resist the urge to just turn and run from this man and the heartache that was waiting.
In the end, I simply asked, “So tell me what else muertes can do, and how it will solve the problem.”
His gaze flicked down my body, as if he had been expecting me to say something else. And maybe he had been. It wouldn’t have been the first time he’d sensed what I’d really wanted to say.
But, like me, he held his thoughts back, and simply said, “Muertes can link to broadcasters.”
I raised my eyebrows. “What the hell is a broadcaster?”
“Broadcasting is a psychic skill, and those who have it can telepathically link to several people at once.”
The delay suddenly made all sorts of sense. “Meaning you linked to this broadcaster while hidden in the shadows, and whoever he was linked to heard the whole of it?”
“Yes—both this morning, and when I was questioning Leon. The twelve members of the council heard every word said. Hannish’s fate has already been decided.”
“And now you have to execute that decision?”
“Yes.”
“And afterward?”
He knew what I meant, and brushed his knuckles lightly against my cheek, letting them slide down to my chin. “There is no afterward, Mercy. You know that.”
I stepped back, away from his reach, away from the smell and heat of him. “There’s one other thing you forgot to tell me about muertes, Damon.”
His fingers twitched, as if he were tempted to reach for me again, then he dropped his hand and simply said, “What?”
“You never told me they were cowards.”
“Mercy—”
“Don’t bother,” I cut in, taking another step back and steeling myself against the rising ache in my heart. An ache that pierced like a knife. “You may not be afraid of death, Damon, but you’re sure as hell afraid of life.”
This time he did reach for me, but I slapped his hand away. “Nothing you say or do can alter the truth. You’re walking away to protect yourself, not me. You’re afraid to love because you’re afraid to lose. That’s cowardice, Damon, nothing more.”
“Mercy, that’s not true. What I do—”
“Is an excuse. One you can keep on believing, but don’t expect anyone else to.” I took another step, my eyes stinging with tears I refused to let fall. “Goodbye, Damon.”
With that, I turned and walked away. The air was filled with turmoil—his and mine—but he didn’t move, he didn’t stop me, and I kept on walking.
My dreams might be ashes and my world might be falling apart, but I still had the soul of a friend to save and less than twenty-four hours left to find the point where our car had gone off the road.
That, at least, gave me something to focus on.
I could worry about the rest of it later.
Chapter Fourteen
The air began to hum with power long before the first vestiges of night began to creep through the day. Energy flitted across my skin—little sparks of power that were very visible in the fading brightness that surrounded me. There were ghosts here, too—other souls who’d died along this stretch of road. They were little more than fragile wisps of humanity whose pain, bewilderment, and sorrow infused me, making me want to cry. But there was nothing I could do to help or save them.
They were neither kin nor friends, and the task of saving their souls was not on my shoulders.
I was here to help Rainey move on.
I took a deep breath, drawing in the pow
er of dusk, wishing it had the strength to ease the ache in my heart. But I doubted anything could do that right now.
I studied the horizon, waiting, as the hum of power grew and intensified, and the slivers of red and gold streaked the sky—bright flags of color that heralded peace for Rainey.
As dusk’s energy flooded my body, the power in the air framed the ghosts around me, briefly illuminating their forms, giving them shape if not substance. Tears stung my eyes. Rainey was there somewhere.
“Rainey Carmichael, I call on your soul and your spirit and ask that you stand before me this night.”
My voice was little more than a whisper, but the power surged and danced around me, filling the sunset with its beauty. Wispy fingers of energy stirred amid the gathered ghosts, searching, feeling, until they swirled around one wispy form and urged her forward. Her face was little more than a radiant blur, but I knew it was Rainey. I could feel her—in my heart, and in my soul.
I took a deep, shuddering breath, and continued with the ritual.
“May the gods of sun and sky and air bear witness to the fact that those who killed you have paid the price.” As I spoke, her form seemed to grow brighter and brighter, as if the sun itself was finally burning her, taking the flesh that no longer existed and freeing her soul from its constraints. “With the power of this dusk, I free you. May the gods guide and protect you as you continue your journey, Rainey.”
The radiance and power in the air seemed to reach a crescendo and, just for a moment, I heard the sound of laughter. Rich, carefree, and joyous.
Rainey, free at last.
Tears stung my eyes, and my throat was so constricted I could barely speak the final words. “May you find the peace and happiness in the forever lands that you could not find in this, my friend.”
The streaming fingers of sunlight seemed to twirl and dance, as if in answer, and then they were gone, lost to the shadows of the oncoming night.
The radiance caressing my skin died, taking with it the underlying hum of energy. All that remained were the fading remnants of ghosts who would never find the release that Rainey had.
