Firestorm Forever: A Dragonfire Novel

by Deborah Cooke

  “But they won’t appear any different from other rocks, not before the blood moon and that quickening,” Sloane protested. “How will we find them?”

  “Liz might be able to sense a difference when she’s closer to them,” Erik said. “And Chandra might be able to home in on them with the help of her dreams.”

  “Brandt and Brandon are both in Australia already,” Thorolf said. “They could start the hunt and we’ll join them.”

  “Wait a minute.” Sloane raised a hand. “I don’t think Chandra should go anywhere before the baby is born. It’s too long of a commercial flight for a woman entering her third trimester. I don’t know how you managed to get here, but you should stay here.”

  He saw the hot look that Thorolf and Chandra exchanged and recalled that she’d surrendered immortality to be with him. He could see that Thorolf was ready to depart, yet also wanted to remain with Chandra. Sloane wondered whether she had regrets, but she reached out and took Thorolf’s hand, then gave it a visible squeeze.

  “You’re going to Easter Island, to track the attacker’s scent first,” she reminded him and he glanced to Erik who nodded approval. “While you do that, I’ll stay here with Sloane and try to help him.”

  Thorolf nodded. “We’ve only got five months, so we need to start the hunt.”

  “Follow the trail and kick some butt,” Chandra said. “When you’re done, you can fly me to Australia to search for clues.”

  Sloane winced, as Chandra would be even further along in her pregnancy by then.

  She gave him a stern look, as if reading his thoughts, and Sloane was reminded that she had been a warrior goddess. Compromise wasn’t in Chandra’s vocabulary, but he hoped she wasn’t forgetting that she had made a sacrifice. “It’s the final challenge to your kind,” she said with force. “A little discomfort is a small price to pay.”

  “You’re mortal now,” Sloane reminded her, because she seemed to be forgetting that bit.

  Chandra dismissed his fears. “I’m not nearly done here.” She held Sloane’s gaze with such steely determination that he knew she understood the risk.

  She just thought it was more important for her Pyr to survive this war.

  As much as Sloane could relate to that, he felt a portent of doom.

  What he needed was a success of some kind to feel his usual optimism restored.

  He longed to visit Sam and forget his troubles for a night, to lose himself in passion, but he had to think of others than himself. He had to cure Rafferty of the darkfire’s touch.

  The problem was that he didn’t know how.

  * * *

  Almost a week had passed after their call by the time Jac got to California, but Sam hadn’t really expected much different. Jac ran on her own schedule, without regard for anyone or anything else, just as their father had always insisted. The flight was even late, which made Sam fume, believing as she did that somehow Jac had to be responsible for that, too.

  Hunting dragons. Honestly! What was in her sister’s head? The more Sam thought about it, the more determined she was to sort out Jac’s misguided ideas for once and for all.

  The fact that she hadn’t seen Sloane again wasn’t helping her mood. Her tarot card readings had improved since his advice, but her mood was worse. What was probably most annoying was that by disappearing, Sloane was giving her exactly what she’d insisted she wanted. Great sex with no strings attached and no emotional commitments.

  Sam didn’t like it nearly as much as she’d expected she would.

  She wanted to talk to him.

  She was tapping her toe by the time Jac sailed into the arrival lounge, smiling, tanned, and relaxed.

  She knew that look.

  This wasn’t about hunting dragons. It was about some guy.

  Sam forced a smile. “Who is he?” she asked when Jac stopped in front of her.

  Jac smiled. “My new neighbor. Well, he was.” She winced. “We had a bit of an argument, but I understand why now.”

  “And before that?”

  Jac sighed. “Awesome.”

  “So where has Mr. Dreamy gone?”

  “Hunting dragons.” Jac said, hefting her bag as they headed for the parking garage.

  That explained it. Jac had a tendency to take on the causes of the men she dated. If the dragon hunter was gone, then Jac wouldn’t be hunting dragons any more. It was good to know that she’d be safe.

  “It was his crystal I used to shoot that dragon, you see,” Jac confided as she dumped her bag into the trunk of Sam’s car. “I found out later that the dragon I shot had killed his uncle.”

  Sam slammed the trunk. “Then there can’t be too few of them.” She really didn’t want to talk about dragons, but it seemed that Jac did.

  “But we have something in common,” Jac said. “Both of us lost someone important to a dragon shifter on the hunt.” She gave a little shiver of delight as she settled into her seat. “Like you and what’s-his-name, and your science thingy.”

  Jac didn’t refer to Derek by name, not since Sam’s divorce.

  “And we saw how well that worked out,” Sam retorted, not wanting to talk about her ex-husband either.

  Jac turned to study her. “The weird thing is that I thought you had a good marriage for the longest time.”

  Sam laughed because she couldn’t stop herself.

  “Dad always held your marriage up as a shining example of perfection.”

  “Yes, well, I guess he saw what he wanted to see.” Sam paid the parking attendant and couldn’t believe how expensive it was to park for so short of a time. That made her wonder how much money she’d be lending to Jac, and whether she’d ever see it again.

  “Ever thought about getting a job?” she asked, hearing her father in her voice. She frowned and pulled out into traffic. She’d wanted to start fresh with Jac but it wasn’t working out that way.

  “I haven’t noticed that you had one lately,” Jac replied. “What’s the deal with this retreat to the hills, anyway? It’s not like you to run away from anything.”

  “I’m not running away!”

  Jac gave her a look. “Uh huh. You’ve always wanted to leave the cares of the world and the rigor of science behind to read tarot cards for strangers.” Her tone showed all of her skepticism. “Who are you and what have you done with my sister?”

  “I just got burned out,” Sam said, hearing defensiveness in her tone. “I needed a break.”

  “That’s a first,” Jac muttered.

  “There’s nothing wrong with doing something for the first time.”

  “No, but you don’t usually.”

  “I’m trying to change that.” There was silence between them for a moment, and Sam finally spoke. Expressing her feelings aloud had worked with Sloane. Maybe it would work with Jac. “Like this. I want us to get along better, but we’re just continuing as we always did.”

  “Maybe we should just toss out all the shit that’s been simmering and get rid of it, for once and for all,” Jac said.

  “Who’ll pick up the wounded?” Sam asked, sparing a smile for her sister. Jac was right about unspoken thoughts having power.

  “Chicken.”

  “You bet.”

  Jac grinned back at her. “Are you any good at reading tarot cards? You could tell my fortune for me.”

  Sam couldn’t bring herself to make a pronouncement. She didn’t want to sound like her father, even if she heard his commentary in her thoughts all the time. “Why don’t you tell mine instead?”

  “Just to prove you aren’t chicken?”

  “Exactly.”

  Jac straightened in her seat. “All right. You’re going to find a new goal, even without Dad to give it to you, and you’re going to pursue it with such dedication and devotion that there won’t be one second in your life for anything or anyone else. The people you supposedly care about will have needs, but you’ll be too busy working to even speak to them, much less to help them out. You’ll become a stranger to all
of them, although maybe some—like Dad—will keep the candles burning on the altar of St. Samantha. Those of us left to clean up the mess might be a little less impressed.”

  Sam exhaled slowly, astonished by her sister’s words and tone. “Well, thanks a lot.”

  “That’s the view from here.”

  “Ouch. Maybe I should have been more afraid.” Sam glanced at her sister, seeing strain in the line of her mouth. “Tell me.”

  “Everyone thinks I don’t have ambitions, instead of realizing that I give them up for the team,” Jac said, her words making Sam see the situation from a new perspective. “Just what kind of job do you think I could have had that would have allowed me to give palliative care to Mom for two years? Just what kind of job would have paid me for running to drive Dad everywhere when he gave up the car and refused to bother Number One Daughter, the superstar scientist? Just what kind of job would have let me take care of Nathaniel at a moment’s notice while you and what’s-his-name argued over whose turn it was to not work late?”

  “That’s unfair!” Sam protested, though in her heart, she wasn’t sure.

  “It’s not!” Jac retorted, glaring out the window. “I left college to nurse Mom, abandoning my degree and my chance at a gallery show,” she whispered.

  Sam was shocked. “You never said you had a chance at a show. I thought you didn’t like the program.”

  “It doesn’t matter. It was an easy choice to make, but there’s been no getting back on track since.”

  “That’s not entirely fair,” Sam had to point out, even as she wished she’d been more perceptive sooner. “Every step has been your choice.”

  Jac sighed. “I guess it has been.”

  “You should have talked to me.”

  “We weren’t exactly exchanging confidences.” Jac shook her head and said something unlikely, as was her way. “What’s really unfair is that we’re on the freeway so I can’t just get out of this damn car and walk away from you.” She made a sound of frustration. “What’s stupid is how tempting it is to do it anyway.”

  They were on the freeway, in the midst of four busy lanes of traffic, hurtling along at the limit, but Jac sounded serious.

  “Am I really that bad?” Sam asked gently.

  Jac exhaled. “You could be a little less perfect.”

  “Then you’ll be glad to hear that I’m on top of that these days,” Sam replied. “Maybe you should let me read your tarot cards. I’m so pathetic at it that you’d laugh.”

  Jac gave her a considering glance. “Oh no, you don’t.” She folded her arms across her chest, making a joke. “You’d better rethink this plan, Dr. Samantha Wilcox. I’m not ready to share the throne of Loser Daughter just yet.”

  “Mom and Dad are both gone, Jac. Do we still have to compete?”

  “I never competed.”

  “No. You just abandoned the field completely.” It was only now that Sam saw that her sister’s apparent lack of ambition wasn’t that at all. She put her family and friends first, partly because she’d refused to compete with Sam. She had to think about that for a minute, and negotiated the exit with more care than was necessary.

  “Is that why you’re here?” Jac asked gently. “Because without Dad telling you which mountain to climb next, you’re not sure what to do?”

  Sam was startled by her sister’s insight.

  Then she realized it was right on the mark. “Something like that,” she admitted and there was silence in the car for a long while. “He never expected results from you,” she added, keeping her tone mild. “And oh, there were times I hated you for that.”

  “He only ever gave a shit about you and your achievements,” Jac replied in the same mild tone. “And oh, there were times I hated you for that.”

  Sam stopped at the traffic light in town and they turned to eye each other. She realized that their father’s dismissal of Jac had been a knife that cut both ways. By expecting nothing, in a way, he was suggesting that she wasn’t capable of anything of importance.

  “You were right,” Sam said. “It was good to let go of all that crap.” She opted for Sloane’s strategy. “Can we start fresh now?” Sam offered her hand. “I’m your sister, but maybe we could be friends, too.”

  Jac smiled, never one to hold a grudge. Sam had always admired that about her sister. “It’s worth a shot,” Jac said as she shook Sam’s hand. The light turned and the driver behind honked his horn.

  Jac shook her head as they continued, as if amazed. “You know, I never thought you’d be the one to offer the olive branch. I thought that would be up to me, too. You’ve changed. Thawed maybe.”

  Sam drove for a bit while she considered her words. “Well, I met this guy…”

  “Met,” Jac echoed in a teasing tone. “I’m thinking you did more than shake hands.”

  Sam felt her cheeks heat. “I met this guy, and we had dinner…”

  “Here?”

  “Here.”

  “Now things are getting interesting. Suddenly this staying-in-California stuff is making a lot more sense.” Jac shook her head. “Imagine my ambitious sister making a decision to stay in a place because of a guy.”

  “It’s not like that!” Sam protested.

  “Your blush says it is.” Jac leaned closer, her eyes dancing. “Or maybe you want it to be. What do the cards have to say about it?”

  Sam cleared her throat, thinking of The Lovers card. “The point is that while we were having dinner, he said something that made me think. He said that no matter how much it hurts to lose someone you love, it’s never enough to make you regret having loved them.” Sam found her tears rising. “He’s right.”

  Jac’s teasing manner was dismissed and her surprise was clear. “You actually told him about Nathaniel?”

  Sam shook her head, feeling disappointed in her own choice. “He was talking about his dad.” She felt Jac turn to study her, but didn’t meet her sister’s gaze. Instead she concentrated on driving. They’d never talked so bluntly to each other about their feelings, and Sam was both relieved and flustered.

  “Did you really love Dad?” Jac asked, no charge in her tone. “Or was he just kind of a hard habit to break?”

  Sam cast a smile at her sister then sobered. “I loved how sure he was,” she admitted, as she turned into her driveway. “I loved that he never had any doubt of what to do next, of what anybody should do next.”

  “Even if he was wrong.”

  “Was he?” Sam shook her head, haunted by old arguments and resentments. “There’s something to be said for acting without hesitation, for being decisive.”

  “I guess.” Jac sounded less convinced. Sam pulled into her driveway, her gaze trailing to Sloane’s house. There was a black pick-up truck there with a trailer. She narrowed her eyes but she wasn’t imagining that the words ‘Here Be Dragons’ were emblazoned on the side.

  Dragons again?

  Before Sam could say anything, her sister was leaning forward, peering at her own house. Her eyes were wide with surprise. “You bought this house?”

  “Well, I didn’t bring you to somebody else’s.”

  “Ha ha.”

  “Why? What’s wrong with it?”

  Jac got out of the car and stared at the house, walking up and down one side as she checked it out. “It’s a fixer-upper. It has charm and character, maybe a few idiosyncrasies.”

  “It has idiosyncrasies by the bucket,” Sam replied. “Don’t have fantasies about your shower water staying the same temperature. We won’t even talk about the electrical. Or the mice.”

  Jac turned to face her. “Again I ask: who are you and what have you done with my sister?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Sam opened the trunk and Jac came to get her bag.

  “It means that this looks like a place Mom would have bought,” Jac said, much to Sam’s surprise. “Or maybe me. It’s the kind of place that charms you and catches at your heart so that you look past its issues.”

 
“Is it?” Sam glanced over the house again.

  Jac nodded, her approval clear. “Yes. This is the kind of house that would haunt a person, tempt them with possibilities. It’s a dreamer’s house.”

  “And you’re surprised I bought it because…”

  “You always live in places that are sterile and contemporary, all steel and glass and yawning emptiness.” Jac grimaced. “White and silver. Stainless steel counters. Floors so cold you can get frostbite, and surfaces so clean that you could do surgery anywhere in the house. Practical houses.” She shuddered visibly.

  “Be serious. The place in Atlanta wasn’t that bad. I liked it.”

  Jac grimaced. “Exactly my point. It was as welcoming as a morgue. How on earth did you end up with this place?”

  Sam considered the house from her sister’s view. “I liked how far it was out of town. Close enough for shopping, but far enough to not have nosy neighbors.”

  Jac shook her head, amused, then turned and looked at Sloane’s house. It was the only neighboring house in view. Sam felt herself stiffen, but her sister just smiled and headed for the front door. “That is far away. Come on and show me what you’ve done to the place.”

  “Nothing,” Sam admitted. “My stuff is here and that’s it.”

  “Oh good.” Jac feigned relief. “You really are my sister, then. I was getting worried.” She smiled to soften the words. “Maybe I can help you make it look as if you live here, instead of like you’re renting for an hour or two.”

  Jac did have a gift for making a house into a home. It was a knack that Sam didn’t possess and she knew it. It had never been important to her before. She’d always had more important things to do, and had known that she might have to fly out to another corner of the world at a moment’s notice.

  But maybe, just maybe, this time she’d stay. She didn’t want to think about the influence Sloane Forbes could have on that decision.

  She also didn’t want to think about the fact that she’d been inspired by her father, driven by him most of the time, but she’d always gone to her mom for solace.

  Maybe that was why she’d bought this house.

  “That would be great,” Sam said with a smile and meant it.