What did he do, really?
Why was he so private?
Mercury was guide of the dead and protector of gamblers, liars and thieves.
Sam shivered, despite the warmth of the afternoon. She’d always found mysteries enticing. Her ability to shake the truth free, no matter how improbable it was, had been the basis of her entire career. The funny thing was that she hadn’t felt much like solving riddles since her colossal failure.
But Sloane’s tattoo rekindled Sam’s almost-forgotten need to know.
She realized a bit late that a man so enamored of his privacy had to have an alarm system. She hadn’t heard an alarm, though, and the police hadn’t responded.
There was no crisis.
Sam walked home, more disappointed by Sloane’s continued absence than she knew she should be. She tossed the branch of the rose into the field, well away from Sloane’s meticulously tended gardens.
Her mother had always insisted that everything happened for a reason. If one night was to be the sum of her time with Sloane, what had been the point?
The mystery was the point, Sam decided. She was going to unravel Sloane’s secret, no matter what it was, no matter how deeply buried it was, just to prove that she hadn’t lost her mojo. There might be one riddle she couldn’t solve, but there wouldn’t be two.
Maybe that would push Sloane out of her thoughts for good.
Chapter Six
“That’s Erik!” Cassie was astonished to see the leader of the Pyr on the news in his dragon form. Erik was battling a red and gold dragon in the night sky.
“Our latest dragon sighting comes from Chicago, where these two dragons battled over the city, showing no care for the human residents sleeping in the vicinity,” declared Maeve O’Neill. She was in a studio somewhere other than the battle itself, providing a voice-over, her image in a box at the bottom of the screen. Although she was a beautiful woman, with dark hair and blue eyes, Cassie found her perspectives irritating. “A flurry of dragon sightings coinciding with the blood moon and eclipse, as well as natural disasters in China, the Ukraine and Indonesia—never mind the unchecked progress of the Seattle virus—have this reporter wondering whether the end of the world really is near. Are the Pyr friend or foe? Call in now to share your views, as we watch this brutal attack unfold…”
Cassie turned off the sound so she could avoid another tirade by Maeve and watched Erik’s fight. He was winning, and had torn the wings off the dragon who had to be Slayer, when another one popped out of nowhere to fight against Erik. It was strange how much he resembled the wounded Slayer. To Cassie’s relief, Donovan showed up, and then Delaney, and the Slayers vanished into thin air.
She was in the large room of the Venetian palace she shared with Lorenzo di Fiore, her Pyr and the former Las Vegas illusionist. It was one of those rare moments when they were alone together and both of their sons were asleep. Antonio would be three in March. Bartholomew—Bart to all who adored him—had only been born the previous May. Cassie had been thinking that she was too tired to do anything about their moment of privacy when the fight had been televised. She was fully alert now.
Lorenzo was staring out over the canal, hands on his hips, apparently lost in thought.
Cassie knew better.
“You don’t fool me,” she said, turning off the television with the remote. “You have to be interested. It looks like Erik’s wounded, and you know how he feels about being seen by humans.”
“I watched the video online earlier,” Lorenzo said quietly.
“And?”
“And?” He turned to face her, his smile no less enigmatic than his manner.
“And what have you concluded, planned or otherwise schemed without telling me about it?” Cassie softened her words with a smile. It was Lorenzo’s nature to plan, but she couldn’t resist teasing him about it sometimes.
Lorenzo came to sit beside her on the couch, his gaze intent. “I would never make a decision without consulting you.”
Cassie rolled her eyes. “No, you just move all the pieces into place and ask me when it’s too late to do anything different.”
He was immediately contrite. “I thought it would be easier for you if I took care of details. You’ve been tired during your pregnancies and I wanted you to have every opportunity to work on your photographs.”
“While you’ve had very little on your talons.” She poked him in the chest and he sighed.
“I’m not used to retirement,” he admitted ruefully.
“Regrets?”
His shrug was non-committal but his gaze was bright. “You?”
“The boys are so great,” Cassie said, watching Lorenzo nod. “I wouldn’t be without them.”
“No.” He arched a brow. “But?”
Cassie decided to be the one to voice her doubts first. “I miss living in the States. I worry about their schooling here, where there are so few other kids. I’m not sure I like seeing you prowl around the house, either, trying to find something to do.”
Lorenzo took her hand in his. “We’ve been thinking the same way.”
Cassie was glad to hear it. She gestured to the dark screen. “Talk to me.”
He frowned, then nodded. “You’re right that Erik doesn’t like humans to see him in dragon form. That he was filmed and the video survived means that he was unable to beguile the person who shot the video.”
“Because he was injured?”
Lorenzo winced. “I think Erik would defy death to beguile humans in defense of the Pyr and their privacy. I’m sure he, and the others, tried.”
“Then what could be the reason?”
“Change.” Lorenzo got up to pace the room. “You know that beguiling works best, like most kinds of hypnosis, when the person being beguiled wants to be convinced. Historically, people didn’t want to see dragons. We were terrifying. We could destroy them, readily. And seeing a man change into a dragon was even more frightening. It challenged everything they believed to be true.”
“Right.” Cassie hugged her knees. “So it was easy to beguile someone into believing that he or she hadn’t seen a dragon at all.”
“It’s never easy, Cassie,” Lorenzo chided gently and she smiled, knowing she’d pricked his pride.
“Of course not. And you’re the best at it because you’ve worked hard to be so.”
He gave her a simmering glance, probably because she was teasing him. Cassie smiled at him, unrepentant, and patted the couch beside her. “You need to perform again. It keeps you more even-tempered.”
He snorted and she practically saw a puff of smoke come out of his nostrils. “I wish you weren’t so right.”
“Come on. Tell me what’s changed.”
Lorenzo perched on the edge of the couch again, his restless energy tangible. His gaze collided suddenly with hers. “They want to see us now. Taking a video like that one of Erik, Donovan and Delaney is a ticket to fame, of a kind. Humans aren’t afraid of us, and they don’t want to be beguiled that their dream didn’t come true.”
“Could you have beguiled the person who shot this video?”
Lorenzo frowned. “I don’t know. It would have been a challenge.”
His uncertainty was unexpected. “You would have liked to have tried.”
“Yes.”
“Do you agree with Erik? Do you think the Pyr are in danger? This Maeve seems to want us to take up our pitchforks and battle you to extinction.”
He turned a glittering glance upon her, one that could still make her simmer with desire. “We’re all prey, Cassie, but the real hunters aren’t humans. The real hunters are those other dragons.”
“Slayers?”
“Not just any Slayers. The two in the video look just like Boris Vassily, who has been dead for several years. And they were indistinguishable from each other.” He drummed his fingers on the couch. “I have to wonder what Jorge learned from Chen at the end, or what he’s done.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that it’s time for the illusion to end.” Lorenzo eyed her, his manner regal. “I won’t hide when I’m being hunted.” He took her hand in his again. “And to my relief, that meshes quite well with what we’ve both been thinking.”
Cassie smiled, knowing her dragon well enough to guess his choice. “You’ll taunt.”
He leaned closer, smiling with anticipation. “I’ll taunt and I’ll provoke and I’ll find out the truth, so it can be used against them. This is the end of the Dragon’s Tail Wars, Cassie. I didn’t want to be involved, but our firestorm changed everything. I mean to survive this reckoning, and that means I need to fight in the only way I can.”
“We’re going back to the States,” Cassie guessed, her excitement rising.
“The master illusionist Lorenzo is going to rise from the dead,” her Pyr agreed with a nod. “And it will be the greatest show of all time.” He smiled as he held her gaze with that familiar confidence. “The only way past the fire is through it.” She could almost see him making lists and planning. “We’ll start with a press conference to announce my return. You’ll be there.”
“Just another photographer in the crowd,” Cassie guessed.
Lorenzo shook his head. “No, no. There will be no crowd.”
“But don’t you want as many reporters there as possible?”
Lorenzo’s eyes danced. “I’m going to give Maeve O’Neill an exclusive.” He sat back on the couch, lounging with a satisfaction that Cassie didn’t understand.
“Why would she be interested in your illusion show starting up again, or even in your return from the dead?”
Lorenzo smiled. “Because you’re going to tell her that I’m the Pyr you photographed shifting shape in the desert.”
Cassie gasped. “I can’t! Erik will be furious! It’s a violation of the Covenant…”
“This is war,” Lorenzo interrupted with resolve. His eyes glittered coldly. “I’ll do whatever I need to do to win and secure the future of my sons.”
Cassie still didn’t understand. “But she’ll broadcast the story and once everyone knows, you’ll be in danger…”
“No, she won’t.” He leaned closer to her, his smile bright with anticipation. “Not after she’s been beguiled into changing her views about the Pyr, and begins arguing in our favor.”
Instead of condemning the Pyr with every broadcast. “Can you do it? Doesn’t she want to believe you’re evil?”
Lorenzo pursed his lips. “I think she’s more interested in her own fame than any convictions about our nature. I think she wants a story, and the bigger the better. I just need to offer her a tempting one for the beguiling to work.”
“Like what?”
“That’s the challenge, isn’t it?” Lorenzo smiled and Cassie knew that her Pyr had found a challenge to sink his teeth into.
She suspected it was one he would win, too.
“What can I do to help?” Just as Cassie had suspected, Lorenzo had a plan.
* * *
There was a ripple in the air of Ronnie’s prison the next evening. It felt like a static charge had swept through the building, as if rubbing her hands together in its aftermath would be enough to make a spark.
What was going on?
She rose from bed cautiously and listened at the door. There was that thunder again, and the sound of footsteps. It was a man and he was in a hurry.
The lock sounded in the door and Ronnie had a heartbeat to wish she’d seized that chamber pot. She could have thwacked the new arrival with it.
Then she saw that it was two of the triplets. There was consternation in their manner, but she didn’t have much chance to observe it. She was blindfolded and her hands bound behind her back, then she was spun in place. When she was dizzy, she was marched into the corridor, her captors holding her wrists.
Their skin was cold enough to make her shiver.
Reptilian.
She did shudder and one of them chuckled at her apparent fear.
“Where are we going?” she demanded, trying to sound brave.
“To meet the boss,” one said.
“It’s supper time,” the other added. Ronnie couldn’t help but think of the feast she’d witnessed the previous night and she inadvertently caught her breath.
When they laughed, she knew they’d let her see that on purpose.
They wanted her to be afraid. It made sense to be afraid.
Ronnie lifted her chin. But it didn’t make sense to show her fear. She thought of Mark and she thought of Drake, she thought of all the service people who had been tortured and imprisoned, and she resolved to do her best to be strong.
She couldn’t have been more surprised when her bonds were removed and she was left alone in a comfortable room. A man stood opposite her, watching her with a smile playing across his lips. There was electricity in this room, because the lights were on and a pair of refrigerators were humming on the far wall. There was a compact kitchen beyond the fridges, and in fact, it looked as if she were in a small and elegant apartment, outfitted with every amenity.
Except that it had no windows.
The man in front of her was tall and might have been considered handsome if not for the assessment in his eyes. She knew with one look that he liked hurting others, but she held his gaze to disguise her fear. He had blond hair cut very short and blue eyes and looked as if he worked out a lot. He’d be a powerful opponent. Was he a dragon shifter?
There was no upside to being coy. “Are you another one?” she asked warily.
“You could say I’m the only one,” he replied, gesturing to a plush chair. “I will be the only one in a year.”
Ronnie took a seat as he indicated, but didn’t sink back into the chair. She perched on the edge, watching him.
“I shouldn’t offer you a drink, although that might be appropriate otherwise,” he mused. “What can I get you? Herbal tea? Milk? Sparkling water?”
“Tea would be great,” she said tersely.
He snapped his fingers and one of the triplets appeared from behind the drapes, hastening to fill a kettle. Her host sat down opposite her, his gaze watchful. “I am Jorge,” he said, his voice soft with menace.
“No surname?”
He smiled a little more. “My reputation is such that I no longer need one.”
“Like Jack the Ripper.”
He chuckled. “Something like that. Do you play board games, Ronnie?”
Ronnie was unable to hide her astonishment. “Board games?”
“Snakes and Ladders. Checkers. Monopoly.” Jorge’s eyes glinted. “You have a son. I was certain you would understand my meaning.”
“I don’t understand why you would want to play board games.”
“Because they are an excellent time filler, and we have nine months to wait.” Jorge leaned back. “I could hope for the sparkle of excellent conversation. I could yearn for many wild sexual encounters. But you are the mate of a Pyr, a cursedly principled lot, and so I suspect I will have to content myself with competition at board games.” He widened his eyes slightly, and Ronnie bit back an unexpected and unwelcome urge to laugh.
Was he trying to undermine her resistance?
“I thought you were Pyr.”
“No. I’m Slayer, as are my companions here.”
“You bleed black instead of red,” Ronnie said, guessing that wasn’t the only difference between the triplets and Drake.
“How very observant.” He opened the cabinet doors on the end table and lifted out a box. “Snakes and Ladders?”
Ronnie nodded, thinking it was both a consistent choice and an incongruous activity. The decor of this apartment looked like something out of Architectural Digest, every detail in place, and kids’ board games really didn’t seem to belong.
Jorge unfolded the board with care.
“Why?” Ronnie asked. He glanced up without understanding. “Why do you bleed black?”
“There’s a physiological difference between us. One of the most o
bvious manifestations is the color of our blood.”
“What are the others?”
“Perspective,” Jorge said, then handed her the dice. “We have a fundamentally different view of the world.”
Ronnie didn’t take the dice. “How so?”
“The Pyr believe that humans are one of the treasures of the earth, which they are charged to defend. Slayers believe that humans are the pestilence that threatens the treasure of the earth itself, and must therefore be exterminated.” Jorge smiled and there was dragon in his expression.
“You’re going to kill me?”
“Not yet. You’re more useful alive, at least for now.” He smiled. “Give it nine months.”
He’d kill her after this son was born.
What if she wasn’t even pregnant?
Ronnie guessed he’d kill her sooner, then.
Jorge held out the dice again, and Ronnie took them, feeling numb and not knowing what else to do.
His thumb changed to a golden dragon talon before her very eyes. She gasped and drew her hand back, unable to keep from doing anything else, and Jorge chuckled, clearly pleased that he’d provoked the reaction he desired.
It was easy to believe he could become a dragon when his eyes glittered as they did then, and even easier to remember the fate of the fifth red and gold dragon shifter. Ronnie seized the dice and rolled, wondering whether it would be smarter to win or lose their game.
* * *
Sara gave one last push, just as her OB/GYN directed, and felt her son slip into the world. She fell back against the pillow, panting from her efforts, and Quinn pressed a kiss to her temple. Just like the other three times, he’d stayed with her, holding her hand and whispering reassurance.
Quinn was the Smith of the Pyr and was always protective when she drew close to the end of a pregnancy, but there had been something particularly intense about him this fall. He hadn’t confided in her, probably because he hadn’t wanted to worry her, but Sara was ready to know the truth. She had no doubt that it had something to do with the end of the Dragon’s Tail Wars, which the Pyr’s prophecy declared would be resolved over the next year. She had no doubt which side she wanted to win, and to her relief, the Slayers seemed to already be out of the picture.
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