Dragon's Kiss (The DragonFate Novels Book 2)

by Deborah Cooke

Bree bit her lip, thinking.

  “What?” Kris asked as he settled on the couch beside her.

  “I’m wondering who else knows how to raise the dead. I was pretty sure the old man taught only me.”

  “You taught Siegfried.”

  “But I don’t think he believed it. I’m pretty sure he never tried it.”

  “Maybe he told someone,” Kris said. “Or maybe there’s another solution.”

  Bree winced. “I’d prefer that the dragon was raised from the dead than the possibility of more of them. Raising the dead never lasts long.”

  “Good point. Let’s find out what the others know.” He waved at the screen as the other Pyr appeared.

  She couldn’t fight the sense that she and Kris were working together, as a team, and she couldn’t ignore how much she liked it. They sat together facing the computer screen, their shoulders bumping, and Kris kept her hand within his. His thigh pressed against hers and the scent of his skin surrounded her. He introduced her to the other Pyr, and she recognized that she’d been welcomed into a circle of trust because of him.

  Kris introduced Bree to Drake, who was impassive and looked older than the others. His dark hair, dark eyes and olive skin hinted at a Mediterranean background. Alasdair leaned in beside Drake and waved. He had auburn hair and a Scottish accent. He didn’t look as if he’d slept. Two more Pyr had joined the group in New York: Balthasar and Arach. Balthasar looked particularly young compared to the others and Italian—his hair was wound up in a man-bun and she figured it must fall past his shoulders when loose. Arach had an infectious enthusiasm, and silver-grey eyes that were a striking contrast with his dark hair.

  The screen split as Erik joined them. He looked lean and decisive, as a leader should in Bree’s views. His eyes were green and his features were sharp, his hair dark but touched with silver at the temples. His lips were drawn in a taut line, giving him an air of fierce impatience, and Bree recognized his attitude at a glance.

  “Drakkir,” she whispered, hardly believing that he was real and not just a carving.

  He inclined his head. “Valkyrie,” he replied, eyes glinting, and she heard that he had a British accent. His gaze seemed to bore into her and Bree remembered the Viking ships sailing forth. They were said to have a Drakkir guardian in each crew, each ship carved in his likeness, but she’d always thought that was a story. When she’d looked, she’d seen warriors. Men.

  “Where’s Kade?” Kris asked.

  “He has surrendered the stylus and chosen to leave us,” Drake said. He had a deep voice that reminded Bree of that dragon trading taunts with Siegfried so many eons ago. His words were slow and weighty, thoughtful, and she couldn’t help thinking he’d be a worthy adversary.

  She wondered what each of them looked like in their dragon form.

  “It’s strange that he wouldn’t linger to fight with the rest of us,” Kris said.

  “Or help with getting Rhys, Hadrian and Theo back,” Alasdair said with some heat. “It is partly his fault that they’re missing, after all.”

  “It’s the Dark Queen,” Bree said, appreciating that they disliked this change in their comrade. “She’s in his thoughts and has turned him against his own kind.”

  “You think it’s like Kara turning against you,” Kris said, his tone thoughtful and Bree nodded. “That’s Bree’s sister Valkyrie,” he told the Pyr. “She attacked us in Fae.” Bree knew that Kris wasn’t convinced yet that her sister should be saved, but his tone indicated that he was reconsidering.

  “It wasn’t like her,” Bree said. “It has to have been a spell.”

  “Bree and I are thinking that magick is like beguiling—it works best when it finds soil to grow.”

  “So the magick preyed on his insecurities,” Drake mused.

  “He’s been distant since the end of the Dragon’s Tail Wars,” Arach said.

  “Maybe he felt unappreciated,” Alasdair suggested. “He acted like a teenager today.”

  “I want to know more about her abilities,” Balthasar said softly. “This ability to influence a Pyr is troubling.”

  “You just want to take notes for Lorenzo,” Arach teased.

  “No, I want to cure it,” Balthasar argued. “Or find a way to guard against its effects.”

  “Just don’t go showing off for my mentor,” Arach said with a wink.

  Bree looked at Kris, letting her lack of understanding show.

  “Lorenzo is the master of beguiling among us. He’s an illusionist and in the midst of setting up a new show in Las Vegas. Arach has been mentored by him.” Kris gestured at the screen. “Balthasar has been studying with Sloane, the Apothecary, learning about making cures for the Pyr. Since there are so many of us, Sloane could use some help.”

  “Sloane made the salve Melissa used on my back,” Bree guessed.

  Kris nodded.

  “He’s good at what he does,” she said and there was a murmur of assent.

  Drake cleared his throat, then explained about their visit to the night circus. “Maybe this will mean something to one of you,” he concluded, then he read the verse from the card.

  “Dragons two loosed their magick,

  Lost half of it to a Fae Queen’s trick.

  One Pyr snared the rest in crystals three.

  To defend it as darkfire for eternity.

  The dragon prince stirs from his sleep,

  His vow to his twin, he aims to keep.

  To reclaim all magick is his quest

  Can Pyr and Others halt his progress?”

  Everyone in the room caught their breath simultaneously and Bree shivered.

  “Dragon princes,” she whispered. “And twins.”

  “Two dragons,” Kris said, glancing at Bree, his eyes alight. She didn’t feel nearly so enthused about the prospect, although she respected that it solved the riddle. “If the one killed by Siegfried had a twin brother, he could be the one in Edinburgh.”

  “And the one who snatched the magick from Fae,” Bree agreed. “He might be able to do it, especially if the magick had come from him in the first place. My understanding is that a sorceror has to learn how to wield it.”

  “Like understanding the runes,” Kris agreed. “Twin brothers might have been taught together.”

  “There were stories in my time,” Drake said with a frown. “Of a vicious dragon far in the north, one said to be asleep but could be roused at any moment. I assumed the tale was of a viper, like Cadmus, spewing evil thoughts amongst men and spawning wickedness.”

  “You never hunted that one in the north?” Erik asked sharply.

  Drake shook his head. “We never had the chance. We were enchanted by Cadmus and trapped for thousands of years.”

  “I hunted this one,” Bree said. “With Siegfried, but I never heard there were two.”

  “And after the one was killed?” Erik asked.

  “It was believed the dragon was vanquished,” Bree said. “There were no more sightings.”

  “I remember tales, too, but they were myths by my time,” Erik said. “Anyone else?”

  The Pyr shook their heads.

  “Was Cadmus Pyr?” Bree asked but Drake shrugged.

  “I only ever saw him in his dragon form. Why?”

  “What if these dragon princes were Pyr, too?” Bree asked. “It would be a way for the twin to disappear.”

  “That’s how the first could have hidden,” Kris said with excitement. “He wasn’t necessarily sleeping in his lair through the ages. He could have made a lot of noise, frightened everyone away, then shifted shape and mingled with human society.”

  “They could have even alternated places,” Arach suggested. “One being a dragon and one being human at any given time.”

  “And they could have mingled in every way,” Alasdair suggested. “Creating more Pyr.”

  There was a beat of silence.

  “Do you think we’re related?” Balthasar asked in a horrified whisper and the Pyr exchanged uncertain glances.<
br />
  “That’s one possibility,” Bree said. “But I was thinking of something else. If he is Pyr, we don’t know what he looks like in human form. He can hide again.”

  “He could be hiding now,” Kris agreed.

  “Who is the woman Rafferty has gone to meet?” Drake asked.

  “She said she knew the dragon prince,” Kris supplied. “She actually called Melissa, because of those television specials.”

  Erik made a little growl of annoyance and Bree understood that not all of the Pyr had thought the shows were a good idea. She admired how they shared ideas and respected each other’s opinions, working together to choose the best path forward. She could imagine how comforting it would be to have such a connection with one’s own kind. Bree had never had that with her sisters—they’d each kept to themselves—and she felt a tinge of envy.

  “The magick has been reclaimed, as far as we can tell,” Drake said, his tone decisive. “If I understand correctly, this means the portals between realms are sealed.”

  “It means the Fae won’t be able to slice pathways between the realms,” Bree said. “Not without their magick. There might be permanent portals, but I doubt we’ll find them easily without the glow of magick.”

  “They might have threshold guardians,” Erik said. “Or be disguised from view.”

  “And they might have sealed in the absence of the magick in Fae,” Kris said. “We need the stylus to go after the others. We need to open our own portal.”

  There was consensus with that.

  “We should go soon,” Bree said. “There’s no telling what’s happening to Kara and the Pyr while they’re captive there.”

  A ripple passed through the Pyr and their eyes glittered more vehemently with their need to protect their own.

  “I’ll get the next flight to London,” Alasdair said. “I’ll be there first thing in the morning.”

  “Bree and I should go into Fae together,” Kris said. “We know what we’re getting into, and a larger group might attract attention.”

  The Pyr didn’t like that, but they nodded reluctant agreement.

  “I’ll call Rafferty and be certain he’s warned,” Erik said. “Drake, will you take command of this mission? You know the Pyr involved far better than I do, but I am at your disposal.”

  Bree watched the body language of the Pyr as the command was reassigned. Their practicality and clear lines of authority impressed her. They really were warriors first.

  Drake inclined his head. “We will prepare for the meeting at Bones tomorrow night,” he said. “Kristofer, I would like your insight on that. May we see this quest to success and all survive to fight for our kind and the treasures of the earth again.”

  They agreed and ended the call, then sat in silence for a moment.

  “This is going to be big,” Kris said quietly.

  Bree feared it was going to be bigger than they suspected. What could she do to help them both prepare? She had two ideas and would put one into action while she considered the other.

  “We’d better eat,” she said, and headed to the kitchen, Kris fast behind her.

  That would be the easy part.

  Twelve

  Kristofer felt as if there was an elephant in the room as he and Bree worked together. He’d gone down to the boutique grocery at the corner to pick up supplies and had brought back a bottle of mead on impulse. They’d made a good meal together, working in virtual silence, and he knew he couldn’t keep silent any longer.

  “So, what’s the point?” he asked when they were washing the dishes together in the darkened kitchen.

  “The point of what?”

  “The firestorm.” He lifted a finger before she could protest. “Even a fake firestorm should matter. It’s a sign of something and I’m not ready to ignore it.”

  “You’re going to have to,” she said, her tone pragmatic. “It was a lie.”

  “But what if it wasn’t all a lie?”

  “Stubborn,” she teased, the glint in her eyes indicating that she didn’t find that a problem.

  “I’ve believed in the firestorm for over four hundred years,” Kristofer insisted. “One Fae spell isn’t going to trash that.” He turned to confront her. “What if we don’t go our separate ways when this is over?”

  Bree flicked a glance his way. “You’re assuming we succeed and survive.”

  “I’m an optimist, too.” He watched her shake her head. “Besides, expectations shape results. Believing we’ll succeed might help us do so.”

  “The odds are really long.”

  “They were the last two times we were in Fae, too.”

  “True.” She acknowledged this without emotion. Once he would have wondered whether she was truly without feelings or if she was deliberately hiding her thoughts. Now, he knew it was the latter. “What exactly are you suggesting?”

  “That we’re together instead of apart. That we spend time together, get to know each other more, maybe even build a future together.” It sounded thin, even to his own ears. “Come to my land and check it out. Spend some time there with me.”

  Bree dried dishes for a minute without saying anything. “That must mean you’ve changed your mind about the firestorm,” she said with care.

  “Of course not. I’m looking for meaning in even a fake one...”

  She stopped and spun to confront him, chucking the towel on the counter and bracing her hands on her hips. Her voice was hard. “Then explain to me how this plays out.”

  “There’s nothing to explain. We’d be together...”

  “Until your firestorm sparked—tomorrow, in a decade, in a century.” Her eyes flashed as she stepped forward to poke him in the chest with one finger. “And then you’d follow that spark and be with her, whoever she might be, and we’d be done.”

  Kristofer was astonished to realize that Bree had thought about this already.

  “I’d just have enough time to...” She fell silent, spun and snatched up the cloth again. She dried a pot with furious gestures, the anger was coming off her in waves.

  He couldn’t help but be encouraged that she already felt so strongly about it.

  “Enough time to...?” Kristofer invited, seizing the most interesting part of her response.

  Her sidelong glance was lethal. “You want me to say it.”

  “I do,” he agreed easily and grinned. “Come on, admit a weakness, Valkyrie. I promise I won’t tell anyone else. It’ll be our little secret.”

  She tried to sound outraged, but her dawning smile undermined that. “You’re incorrigible.”

  “I thought that was what you liked about me.”

  “Okay. I would just have time to maybe care—” she emphasized that word and gave him a look, challenging him to push for more “—then you’d be gone.”

  “Not necessarily.”

  “You’d just consummate the firestorm and leave your destined mate alone with your dragon baby?” Her skepticism was obvious and justified.

  “No.”

  “You think we’d become a threesome?” She held up a finger. “I’ll answer that one for you. No. Absolutely not. I don’t share.”

  He had to play the devil’s advocate on that one. “All your champions have to share you.”

  “I told you I haven’t been there in ages. I didn’t really like that part anyway.” She was brusque in her impatience. “It was too complicated.”

  Kristofer smiled and leaned on the counter beside her. “You like my idea of two people making a commitment and a future. You like the idea behind the firestorm.” He shook his head. “So, you’re a romantic, too. Who would have guessed? I’ll add it to my list.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” she said hotly, turning to face him again. “Because I can’t be your mate. Sooner or later, you’ll leave, because sooner or later, you’ll have a firestorm. It’ll be just like...” She frowned and fell silent.

  “Just like Siegfried,” Kristofer supplied.

  Her voice dropped low and
the confession wasn’t an easy one for her. “He said he had to marry her to have a son,” she whispered. “He said he needed a son.” She raised her gaze to his and his heart stopped.

  There it was, her worst fear.

  It was so perfectly logical that Kristofer couldn’t hold it against her.

  “So, it would be exactly the same,” he said quietly and she nodded. “I can’t make a case for living in the moment, then?”

  She shook her head. “No, because even if you’re wrong and you never have a firestorm, you’re still mortal. One day, you’ll die and I’ll be alone then, and it will be that much worse.” She turned an anguished look upon him that spoke volumes.

  It made him yearn for what couldn’t be.

  And hate that it was impossible.

  “Okay,” Kristofer said gently and pulled her into his arms. That she leaned against him, then wrapped her arms around his waist told him all he needed to know. “Call us star-crossed lovers, but I’m going to appreciate every moment we’ve got together.”

  She nodded once, her face buried against his chest.

  “Did you mean it when you said you’d drink mead for me?” she whispered and he pulled back to look down at her.

  He didn’t understand, especially when he saw her resolve. “Sure. I even bought some on impulse.”

  “They always said dragons had foresight,” she whispered with a smile.

  “I don’t get it. Why mead?”

  “Because I want to make you the brew of runes,” Bree said, pulling away from him. She looked him in the eyes. “I’ve only done it once, but you’re going to need everything we’ve got to get us all out of Fae alive.” She smiled. “And maybe that’s the point of the firestorm. Maybe I can give you what you need to triumph.”

  Giver of victory.

  And she wanted to give some of that to him.

  Kristofer was awed and amazed, but Bree had already shifted shape. She lifted the pouch from her belt and spilled its contents on the counter.

  He recognized the rune stones right away. They were black stones, like obsidian or jet, bigger than the ones his father had given to him, worn smooth and shiny. The runes were etched into them on one side. She also had a river stone, a piece of amber and a feather in her pouch, but she moved them to one side. He wondered what they meant.