Lila was gone.
If Hadrian was listening from the roof, that Pyr gave no sign of his presence. Rhys swore thoroughly, found his boots and took another jacket. He looked in the bathroom before he left, just in case.
Her skin was gone.
Lila wasn’t coming back anytime soon.
At least the firestorm meant he could find her.
Rhys growled with frustration and threw himself out the door in pursuit of his stubborn mate. Where would she go? The airport?
No, she’d lost her bag when she’d been abducted and her friend had picked it up.
Rhys pulled out his phone and called Nyssa Macleod when he was running down the stairs. The call went to voice mail and he wondered about the fate of her cell phone. He called directory assistance then, hoping she still had a land line. He was in luck.
There was no sign of Lila in the lobby, though he could still discern her scent. The firestorm had dulled to a faint yellow glow, but Rhys could still follow it.
This time, he’d take his bike. He turned to the garage with purpose.
He’d completely forgotten about the gem of the hoard on his kitchen counter. Rhys just strode by it as if it wasn’t even there.
Which was exactly what the magick wanted.
It shone with red spell light as Rhys’ bike roared, the sound of the engine echoing in the street.
Hadrian must have fallen asleep.
One moment he was lounging in his dragon form on the roof of the building that housed both Rhys’ apartment and that Pyr’s restaurant, breathing slowly and deeply as he tucked the last stray ends of his dragonsmoke barrier into place. The snow was falling lightly, each flake sizzling then turning to mist as it fell upon his hide, and the stars were bright overhead. He was exhausted beyond belief, his feet were still sore, and he couldn’t imagine that Rhys would hurry about satisfying the firestorm. He could have gone back to Kristofer’ place or looked for the others, but instead, he shifted shape, huddled deeper into his leather jacket and closed his eyes. The firestorm simmered and burned in close proximity, heating steadily, and Hadrian smiled at its radiance.
He jumped when something touched his dragonsmoke. The clear crystalline peal of the barrier being breached made him shift shape immediately. He was on his feet, ready for battle.
“Sorry!” Alasdair called in old-speak and Hadrian relaxed. His cousin was in human form and climbed the ladder to the roof with a weariness Hadrian could understand.
The heat of the firestorm was gone. Rhys must have satisfied it, but its absence left Hadrian shivering a bit.
“Did you catch her?” Hadrian shifted back to human form and watched the other Pyr approach. Alasdair really looked worn out, but then Hadrian guessed he didn’t look much better himself.
“No such luck,” Alasdair said, leaning against a silent air conditioning unit. He ran a hand over his head and yawned. “Someone gave her a ride and I lost the car in the traffic.”
“What direction was she going?”
“Out of the city.” Alasdair gestured and Hadrian had a strange sense his cousin was being evasive. “West. One of the local Pyr might have known better where the road went.” He glanced down toward Rhys’ apartment. “Where’d they go? Out dancing?”
Hadrian realized with a start that Rhys was gone. His scent had faded. “I don’t know. I fell asleep while the firestorm was raging.” He was embarrassed by this confession but Alasdair smiled.
“It’s okay. I saw him downtown. I was just teasing you.”
“Downtown? Where?”
“They went to the vampire’s antique shop, Reliquary, for a meeting with the Others. Didn’t you hear about it?”
“No.” Hadrian couldn’t understand why he’d been left out of the loop. The whole story sounded wrong, and if it had been anyone other than Alasdair telling it, he would have been openly skeptical.
Alasdair smiled. “You sleep hard. They must have called me because they couldn’t wake you up.”
“Rhys called you?” This made no sense to Hadrian and he eyed Alasdair, his suspicion stirring. Why wouldn’t Rhys have just called him? Rhys knew he was on the roof.
“Yes, he needs the gem of the hoard. He forgot it, if you can believe that, and left it in his apartment. He gave me his keys, but I can’t cross your dragonsmoke.” Alasdair held up a set of keys. “Why don’t you get it and we’ll go meet everyone?”
Hadrian nodded and Alasdair tossed him the keys. They descended the ladder together and went to the door of Rhys’ apartment. Hadrian was still puzzling over the fact that Rhys had called Alasdair instead of him, but it must have happened the way Alasdair said—he had Rhys’ keys, after all. “I can change the permissions so you can cross the barrier,” he offered when he unlocked the door, but Alasdair stepped back.
“It’ll take too much time. Let’s just pick up the stone and get to the meeting.”
“Why does Rhys want it?”
“Why didn’t he just take it?” Alasdair countered. His gaze slid away and he frowned. “It must be part of the plan with the Others. I have to tell you, I feel a bit left out this time.”
“There must be an explanation,” Hadrian said, then clapped his cousin on the shoulder. “There’s a lot going on. I doubt anyone is trying to make you feel excluded.”
“Maybe.” Alasdair shrugged but wouldn’t meet Hadrian’s gaze. Hadrian decided he must be really upset and resolved to talk to him on the way to the antique shop. He entered the apartment and picked up the globe of amber, which was on the counter.
It was so cold that Hadrian shivered. He thought he saw a flash of red light between his fingers, but when he looked at the stone, it was just a piece of amber.
“Hurry,” Alasdair said. “I’d like to get some sleep tonight.”
“I could go for a big breakfast,” Hadrian said. “Maybe we can find a diner that’s open all night.” He locked the door of the apartment behind himself. “Should we fly to save time?”
“No, it might attract too much attention. Let’s see if we can find a cab.” Alasdair had already pushed the button for the elevator and the doors opened. They stepped inside and Hadrian zipped up his jacket as they descended to the street.
He was about to make a suggestion about breakfast but something hit him hard on the back of the head. He groaned as he crumbled to the floor. He heard the elevator doors open a moment later and felt the chill of the street slip around him.
He also felt someone pluck the gem of the hoard out of his hand and heard retreating footsteps.
The amber was gone, and he couldn’t sense his cousin’s presence.
That made no sense.
But the doors closed, sealing Hadrian inside the elevator as everything went black.
Kade didn’t like that another Pyr’s actions made Maeve smile.
He’d fought and captured Alasdair at her command, hoping to earn her favor again. He’d watched as she reached into the other Pyr’s thoughts and learned what she needed to know. He’d even driven them both to Rhys’ apartment and waited for Alasdair to return. Maeve had become so crippled with age by that point that he’d been horrified by the sight of her. He’d to lift her out of the car and even give her a kiss, but Kade prided himself on his loyalty.
He knew it would be repaid.
Instead, he’d been cheated. He’d caught the barest glimpse of the gem of the hoard as Alasdair surrendered it to Maeve. He’d seen her triumphant smile and the sudden red glow as the magick responded to her summons. He saw the years slip away from her appearance until she looked even younger and more beautiful than when he’d first met her. She laughed, seized Alasdair to give him a kiss, then had disappeared in a brilliant flash of silver light.
She’d taken Alasdair and left Kade behind. He shouted, but she was gone, not so much as a glimmer of Fae light left behind. He had the car. He had his resentment, and not much else. His fellow Pyr had taken everything from him that he valued.
Kade stared up at the windows of
Rhys’ apartment. There was one thing left in this realm that was rightly his that he could reclaim.
The stylus Maeve had given to him. With it, he could open a portal and follow her into Fae, just as he had done dozens of times before.
He locked the car and crossed the street, filled with purpose.
Trust a dragon shifter to see the truth Lila didn’t even want to acknowledge to herself.
She was lonely. She’d known it for years.
But that didn’t mean she was going to make the same mistake all over again. It was seductive to have a man’s attention, never mind his sweet promises—but Rhys wanted something from her, just the way Malcolm Ramsay had. She dreamed about their children, but she didn’t dream about Malcolm.
There was always a price.
Lila ran down the stairs instead of using the elevator, all six floors of them. Why did men always have this need to contain their women, wives and mates? Why did they have such an insistence on control? Her frustration rose with every step. She hated that her experience meant that she couldn’t trust Rhys and didn’t even want to try to—she was afraid that she’d be trapped one more time.
No, no and no again. She wasn’t going there.
The firestorm would have to remain unsatisfied. Once she got home, it should be easier to ignore.
When Lila reached the street, she realized she was in front of Rhys’ restaurant. She shivered, vaguely recalling how she’d been poured into a waiting car. It must have happened right near this very spot at the curb. It was a timely reminder of how much she hated being powerless and captive.
The restaurant was closed and the windows dark. Lila couldn’t help noticing that Rhys lived near his work, just the way she did.
But finding traits they had in common, even liking Rhys, wasn’t going to help her resist temptation.
There was very little traffic. Lila turned and walked briskly in search of a busier street. Rhys would probably follow her, and she had to muster her defenses first. She knew she was right, but something about this Pyr was very persuasive. He was so determined. He kissed so well. He was principled and Lila found that appealing.
The firestorm didn’t help, which just meant that dragon shifters were used to winning this battle. Lila was cold, despite having Rhys’ jacket, and the smell of him on it didn’t exactly feed her resolve to leave him behind.
It had been great.
Maybe the best sex ever.
She flagged down a cab on the cross street and headed for Nyssa’s place. Nyssa would have her passport and wallet. With any luck, Lila would be on the next flight back to Scotland.
She was due for some luck.
If Rhys followed her that far, at least she’d be on her own turf. It might be easier to deny him with her memories closer. In Manhattan, Malcolm’s croft seemed like another world, or maybe a dream. Standing in the surf at North Rona would make it easier to fight the temptation Rhys offered. She had to be smart enough to keep from making the same mistake twice.
She had to find that portal to Fae, too, and figure out how to seal it forever. The last thing she needed was the Dark Queen having easy access to her work and home.
Nyssa’s apartment was way uptown in Washington Heights. It was a long cab ride, but the day was sunny and there wasn’t much traffic.
The cab was pulling in at the curb before Lila realized that not having her purse meant she didn’t have any cash or credit cards. The fare wasn’t cheap, either. She was trying to convince the driver to let her go into the lobby and buzz Nyssa for the fare, but her charm was evidently insufficient. Maybe it wasn’t even possible to have enough charm to talk herself out of this. Lila was feeling a bit desperate when she heard the roar of a motorcycle.
It parked immediately behind the cab and a halo of orange fire erupted around Lila.
Rhys.
She was both relieved and annoyed. Maybe she was a damsel in distress once in a while, but Lila didn’t have to like it.
The cabbie swore at the sight of the firestorm’s flames and she wondered how dragon shifters explained the firestorm to mortals.
Maybe she’d leave that job to him and pretend to be oblivious.
Rhys parked the bike and removed his black helmet, his expression grim. He was wearing a black leather jacket and carried a black helmet. He looked ripped, annoyed and sexy as hell. He locked the helmet away, then strode toward the cab, exuding masculinity and power. It seemed that anyone would know with a glance that he was a dragon shifter.
It was easy to believe that he could breathe fire.
Lila tried to remind herself of the perils of satisfying the firestorm and couldn’t think of one reason to avoid it.
After all, she could just choose not to conceive, over and over and over again. The prospect made her knees weak.
Worse, she couldn’t imagine why that would be a bad idea.
She was in deep trouble.
Rhys came immediately to Lila’s door and she rolled down the window, narrowing her eyes against the brilliant flare of the firestorm. “You forgot your wallet,” he growled, then nodded at the driver. “How much is the fare?”
The prospect of cash distracted the cabbie temporarily from the bright light. Rhys paid the fare and opened Lila’s door so she could get out. She stood on the sidewalk and watched as he leaned in the front passenger door, staring at the driver. The driver stared back, as if he couldn’t do otherwise. “Funny trick of the light,” Rhys said, in a strange melodic tone that caught Lila’s attention. It reminded her of something.
“Funny trick of the light,” the cab driver said, speaking as if he was in a trance.
“The reflection off the mirror looks almost like fire,” Rhys murmured.
“The reflection off the mirror looks almost like fire,” the cab driver repeated.
Lila gasped, remembering Embron’s attempt to convince her to cooperate. He’d had flames in his eyes and used the same tone of voice. This was beguiling. She didn’t interrupt, despite her realization and watched in silence as Rhys shook his head ruefully.
“Just an optical illusion,” he said in that same tone.
“Just an optical illusion,” the cab driver agreed with a sage nod. He glanced at the road and seemed to recover himself. “Hey, have a good day.”
“You, too.” Rhys straightened and waved, and Lila stared after the departing cab for a minute.
“Am I right that you beguiled him?” she asked Rhys and saw satisfaction in his smile.
“It went kind of well, didn’t it? Maybe I just need the right motivation,” he said, his gaze warm as it lingered on her. The firestorm simmered with Rhys’ approval and she wondered for the first time whether its intensity mirrored his own enthusiasm.
He reached out and caught Lila’s hand in his, then inhaled as the firestorm brightened even more. He made a little growl of satisfaction as he looked at her, his eyes glowing with admiration and a little smile curving his lips. Lila couldn’t look away. Her gaze fell to his mouth and her own mouth went dry in memory of his slow, thorough kisses. There was nothing in the world but Rhys and the burn of the firestorm.
He pressed a kiss to her palm and Lila thought her knees might give out. She made the mistake of grabbing his other arm to steady herself and the firestorm’s light flared around them with greater brilliance. Rhys tucked her hand inside his jacket, placed her palm over his heart, and she could feel it pounding through the cotton of his T-shirt. She closed her eyes as their hearts matched pace and understood why it made him a bit dizzy.
“Hot stuff,” he murmured.
Lila opened her eyes and looked away, trying to compose her thoughts. “Beguiling is like charming, then, and you are better at it than I am.” She hated her formal tone, but she had to stop thinking about sex with Rhys. “I tried to convince him to let me get Nyssa to pay the fare, but no dice.”
He chuckled and the low sound fed the hum of desire deep within Lila. “If charming really is like beguiling, it’s a lot easier if the
person wants to believe what you’re suggesting.” He turned that rueful smile on her and her heart thumped. “I’m guessing most cabbies wouldn’t like the suggestion that their customer get out of the taxi without paying.”
“Kind of like trying to convince you to abandon the firestorm.”
Rhys shrugged and tightened his grip on her hand. “I think defeating the Dark Queen is going to be tough and we should take advantage of strengths wherever we find them.” He pressed a kiss to her knuckles and Lila couldn’t step away. Then his gaze locked with hers. “I understand your reservations and respect them. I just want a chance to prove that I’m different from that loser who lied to you, whoever he was.”
“Malcolm Ramsay,” Lila said without meaning to do so. This burn of sensual desire really was messing with her mind. She pulled her hand away, wondering whether there were other ways that Pyr could beguile. “Long dead, I’m sure.”
“How long ago was it?”
Lila knew she shouldn’t tell him, but she was unsettled. If confiding in Rhys would persuade him to stop trying to seduce her, it was a small price to pay. She knew Rhys wasn’t going to be shocked by the dates or question her memory, and that was kind of a relief. “He took me as his wife in 1869 and I found my skin in 1875.”
“And the kids?”
Lila frowned, seeing them both clearly in her memories again. Her chest tightened. She had loved them so. Leaving Malcolm had been easy. Leaving the children had been wrenching, but they couldn’t have survived in the sea. “Thomas was born in 1870, Agnes in 1872.” She barely recognized her own voice. It seemed both a million years ago and only yesterday. What had happened to them?
“Did you go back? Just to look?”
Lila shook her head fiercely. “I didn’t dare,” she confessed softly, but knew that Rhys must have heard her.
If nothing else, the memory fed her resolve. She couldn’t do that again. Her heart was shredding all over again and they had to be long dead. Rhys and the firestorm had compelled her to think about those children once more and acknowledge the heartbreak that she’d tried to ignore. She couldn’t conceive and bear Rhys’ son, then surrender the child and continue with her life alone. Once had been more than enough. Actually, she’d done it twice, because she’d had two children with Malcolm. She marched toward the door to the apartment building, filled with new resolve.
Dragon's Heart (The DragonFate Novels Book 3) Page 15
