Flashfire

by Deborah Cooke

  Even if one of them was on YouTube.

  She sat in the theater and wrestled with the improbability of it all. If she was understanding the guy in black correctly, that would mean that she had met two dragon shape shifters within hours. There was a coincidence that blew the probabilities right out of the water.

  Or confirmed the theory. Wouldn’t it be reasonable that they would know each other? Maybe hang out together? Argue?

  Cassie watched Lorenzo perform and she wondered. What other explanation could there possibly be? How could he have pulled off such an illusion?

  What if Lorenzo’s changing to a dragon hadn’t been a trick? What if he was a Pyr?

  How could she find out for sure?

  Cassie held her breath moments later when Lorenzo took the third question from the audience, certain he would end the show the same way.

  But there was no dragon.

  Just as JP had said, Lorenzo took his final bow, then disappeared into a pillar of starlight. The flames in the wall sconces leapt high; then the house lights came up.

  The audience was on its feet, clapping wildly.

  The show was over.

  The encore, in fact, encouraged her that her skepticism was right. She didn’t understand how the pillar of starlight trick worked either. Just because she was ignorant about illusions didn’t make Lorenzo a dragon shape shifter.

  She needed more information about magic tricks—or about one in particular—but she already knew that illusionists were proprietary about their secrets.

  One thing was for sure. Watching Lorenzo made her want him all over again. There might not be flames, and she might not have quite such a vehement desire, but the man had a potent effect on her.

  One that messed with her usual clear thinking.

  Cassie ducked out of the theater and cut through the lobby of the hotel, snagging a cab and heading directly back to her hotel. Lorenzo didn’t know where she was staying. He’d never find her again in this crazy town. She had time to regroup and make a plan.

  All roads led to Lorenzo, whether she wanted more sex or more info about illusions. Cassie wanted to confront Lorenzo on her own terms, with a plan.

  Because the trick was going to be getting any information out of him while keeping her panties on.

  Cassie was crossing the lobby of her hotel when someone tapped her on the shoulder.

  To her surprise it was JP.

  And he looked to be in a state.

  “I am so relieved to have found you,” JP said, his agitation clear. He was far less smooth than he had been earlier.

  There was no sign of Stacy. Had she found someone more fun? “Why? What’s wrong?”

  JP passed a hand over his brow. “Stacy became ill in the restaurant.” Cassie was immediately concerned. “I think it was the shrimp. She went back to your room.”

  Cassie turned to stride toward the elevators. JP matched her pace. His concern was palpable. “I’ve tried to call her, but she’s not answering the phone.”

  “Don’t worry,” Cassie said, hoping to reassure him. “I’m on my way upstairs myself. I’ll check on her.”

  His grip tightened on her elbow. “And you’ll let me know that she’s okay? I feel horrible. I recommended that she try the shrimp.” He shoved a hand through his hair, which made him look disheveled and very cute.

  There was no mistaking his distress, though, and Cassie found herself liking him more than earlier. “It’s not your fault,” she said.

  “I had them last night and they were marvelous, but now I feel responsible.” JP forced a thin smile. “I am sorry to trouble you, but I could not bear for her to be sick because of my suggestion.”

  Cassie hit the button for the elevator.

  “Why don’t I let you know.” Cassie rummaged in her pocket for a scrap of paper. She only had the brochure for Lorenzo’s show that Stacy had given her earlier. “Just give me your cell phone number. . . .”

  “I haven’t got a cell phone,” JP said, then corrected himself. “Actually, I have one, but it doesn’t work in America.” His smile was rueful. “A miscalculation on my part.”

  “But you said you tried to call her.”

  “From the house phone.”

  Of course. “Okay.” Cassie went for a backup plan. “Why don’t I meet you down here in ten minutes or so? I’ll check on her, then come back and tell you what’s going on.” She smiled for him. “She’s probably just fallen asleep. If she’s not feeling well, that would be the best, anyway.”

  “I hope so!” The prospect seemed to encourage him. JP surveyed the lobby. “How about there, in the bar, where we met earlier?”

  “No problem.” Cassie tugged out her room key. “I’ll see you in a few minutes. Don’t worry,” she added to reassure him. “Maybe you should have a drink while you wait. Calm your nerves.”

  “A glass of wine, perhaps.” JP smiled then and took a deep breath. “I am sure you’re right, but I’ll be glad to know for certain.” He waited with her, hovering by her side until the elevator came and she stepped inside.

  JP was still standing there, watching, when the doors slid closed. Worry lined his brow and there was tension in the line of his shoulders. For all that, he was one attractive man.

  Maybe Stacy had found a keeper.

  What Cassie didn’t see was JP taking a seat in the bar after she’d gone upstairs. He glanced around, then reached into his pocket. He removed a silver vial, the exterior covered with strange markings.

  He rolled it in his hand, deliberately recalling Chen’s precise directions. Cassie would meet him here shortly. The fact was that wherever Cassie was, Lorenzo would inevitably follow.

  And then he’d smell this.

  Which would open the minds of both of them to possibilities.

  JP tipped out a pinch of the dark powder within, then capped the vial tightly. He blew the dark dust off his palm into the air.

  It twinkled, dissolving into nothing before his eyes.

  But the invisible cloud it created was palpable.

  JP felt a flush of heat.

  Followed by a tightening in his groin and a hunger that only a great deal of sex would satisfy. This was every bit as potent as Chen had warned.

  The waitress wiped the table in front of him and for a heartbeat, he thought of jumping her bones.

  “Drink?” she asked with a smile.

  JP took a steadying breath. He tucked the vial back into his pocket, smiled at her, and ordered two glasses of the wine Cassie had been drinking earlier.

  Chen had been convinced that the Dragon Bone Powder heated a firestorm to a fever pitch, even after the firestorm was satisfied. He’d said that the powder sharpened the desire of all Pyr, making them insatiable.

  JP, even having changed to the Slayer team, was feeling more insatiable himself than he could ever recall. He felt all tingly and could hear his blood thumping. He was aware of the scent of women’s perfumes mingling in the hotel bar. He noticed the curves of cheeks and buttocks and breasts and wanted to claim them all. He wanted to go upstairs and check on Stacy himself.

  No, he wanted to do more than check on her.

  He decided that his reaction was a good sign, and that Chen’s plan would work.

  So JP waited, and played his role.

  He reminded himself that his reward would be worth any short-term sacrifice. To be Chen’s right hand when that Slayer ruled the world would be no small thing.

  He could do whatever he wanted to the Pyr then.

  He could avenge his brother Lucien.

  He could make those Pyr who had killed Lucien pay.

  With interest.

  The prospect made JP smile.

  Chapter 5

  Cassie heard her friend’s snores as
soon as she unlocked the door. The sound made her smile with relief.

  The lights were still on in the room, and Stacy was still dressed. It looked as if she had staggered through the door, dropped her purse, and landed—mostly—on the mattress. One foot dangled in the air, a fuchsia sling back hanging on for dear life.

  Cassie tugged off her friend’s shoes and put them in the closet. She picked up Stacy’s purse and put it on the dresser. She considered her friend, debating the merits of getting her undressed against potentially waking her.

  Stacy stirred and moaned, then rolled to her back. “Owww.”

  “Too many frilly drinks?” Cassie asked, her tone teasing. They’d been through this scene before a few times, and for years had taken turns playing the lead.

  “Just two,” Stacy said with a grimace. She peered at Cassie from behind her hand. “What do they put in those things?”

  Cassie smiled. “Some of the recipes look like they clean out the bar.”

  “You’re smarter to stick with wine.”

  “Live and learn. You okay?”

  Stacy sat up carefully but still winced. She pressed her fingers to her temples. “I think so. What time is it?”

  “Just before midnight.”

  “Is that all? I’m exhausted, like it’s three in the morning.”

  Cassie sat on the edge of the bed, making sure it didn’t bounce beneath her weight. “How were the shrimp? Is your stomach okay?”

  Stacy peered at Cassie again. “How do you know about the shrimp?”

  “JP. He pounced on me in the lobby. He’s pretty worried about you.”

  That news seemed to perk Stacy up. “Really?”

  “Really. He’s pacing like a caged tiger down there, chewing himself up for recommending the shrimp and getting you sick.” Cassie considered her friend. “He seems like a nice guy.”

  “So I get falling-down drunk the first time he takes me for dinner. Doesn’t that figure?” Stacy reached out a hand and Cassie helped her to stand. “No wonder my track record with men sucks so much. I’m my own worst enemy.”

  “I said I’d come back and confirm that you’d survived. I’ll put in a good word for you.”

  “It’s official: you are the best friend ever.”

  “Hardly!” Cassie protested. “Not after the way I bailed on you this afternoon.”

  Stacy shook a finger at her. “Which reminds me—you owe me the whole story.”

  “It was just, um, fun,” Cassie said, and her friend laughed.

  “I don’t think so. There was something really strong between you two. Maybe it’s kismet. Or true love. I couldn’t blame you for going after that.”

  Before Cassie could think of what to say to that, Stacy headed for the bathroom. She made a sound of distress when she saw her reflection. “I look like a wreck!”

  Cassie followed her after the toilet flushed, then watched from the doorway as Stacy removed her makeup. Better to stick to safer topics than Lorenzo. “Did the shrimp make you sick? If so, maybe I should tell someone.”

  Stacy paused, one eye devoid of mascara and the other still thick with it. She turned to look at Cassie. “You know, it was weird. I thought the shrimp were great. In fact, I thought everything was going really well. I didn’t even feel drunk. Just happy. I was having a great time.” She frowned. “This is going to sound stupid, but then I saw these flames reflected in his eyes. And I looked closer, and I ended up repeating everything he said. I sounded like some kind of moron.”

  Cassie straightened. “What did he say that you repeated?”

  “That I was tired. That my stomach was upset. That I had to go back to my room and sleep.” Stacy shrugged. “And I did feel sleepy. Really sleepy. Just like that.” She snapped her fingers. “I could barely keep my eyes open. I don’t even remember coming up here. It was weird.” She grimaced at her reflection. “He must be thinking I’m some kind of nutcase.”

  Cassie was pretty sure that wasn’t what JP was thinking.

  He was doing the same hypnosis trick that Lorenzo had done on her.

  It was a heck of an illusion.

  Did they know each other?

  They must at least know of each other, if they knew the same trick. Our kind. They must all be magicians. That was it!

  “Do you think he thinks I’m nuts?” Stacy asked, interrupting Cassie’s thoughts. “You look as worried as I feel.”

  “Sorry. Lost in thought. I’ll go talk to JP, defend your honor and all that.” Cassie smiled to encourage her friend.

  Stacy gave her a hug. “You are the best, Cassie.”

  “No problem.”

  “I owe you big time.”

  “Okay. I’ll start thinking about what I want in exchange,” Cassie teased. Stacy made to swat her, then winced again, clutching the bathroom counter to steady herself. “You okay?”

  “I’ll be fine. Go save the best date I’ve had in years, please.” She shook a finger at Cassie. “And remember what I said about giving true love a chance.”

  Cassie didn’t roll her eyes. She ensured that she still had her room key in her purse. The camera was still there, too. In the elevator, she checked that the flash was charged, more from force of habit than anything else. She took a breath and squared her shoulders as she eyed her reflection in the polished elevator doors.

  She noticed in the reflection that her eyes were sparkling. She knew that look. She had a lead and she was going to follow it.

  Looked like a little “fun” had restored her mojo.

  Or maybe it had been Lorenzo himself.

  Lorenzo flung himself out the stage door, keys in hand. He had time to savor a deep breath of cool night air before he caught another scent.

  Slayer.

  There was a red Ferrari parked next to his own, a 360 Spider. Rental. Lorenzo knew this car. He’d seen it around town. A man was crouched down, admiring the lines of Lorenzo’s car, the sight sending a ripple of annoyance through Lorenzo.

  Because he knew this Slayer.

  Suddenly Lorenzo was living in Grand Central Terminal. Was every dragon shifter on the planet going to drop by to chat? Lorenzo sincerely hoped not. He had a policy of avoiding his kind as much as possible—which was quite a lot. It would have been courteous of them to return the favor.

  He hated that there was nothing he could do about it.

  Except get rid of each arrival in turn, as quickly as possible.

  It bit that the part about the firestorm attracting all dragon shifters appeared to be true.

  On the upside, he was looking forward to invoking the flashfire more and more with every passing hour. He couldn’t wait to be lost to his own kind.

  Lorenzo strode to his car, clicking the button that unlocked the driver’s side door. “I already declined,” he said to Balthasar, not bothering to hide his impatience.

  “I thought you might have changed your mind.” Balthasar straightened as he spoke. He still had a slight limp and a scar on his cheek, but the combination gave him a rakish charm. Especially when he smiled, as he did now. He looked like a handsome pirate. Lorenzo wished he’d go swashbuckle and pillage somewhere else. “They say a firestorm changes everything. Perspective, especially.”

  “I wouldn’t know anything about that.” Lorenzo hauled open the door and got in. He took a deep breath, liking the car’s familiar embrace. It soothed his nerves, made him feel in control again.

  Was that just another illusion?

  This car certainly couldn’t hold a candle to his all-time favorite, his baby, the 1963 Lusso that was locked away for its own safety.

  The Lusso was already “sold” to his next identity of choice, just waiting for him to be “reborn” into a new identity one more time. It became tedious to create new identities every twenty or thirty
years, but longevity was one facet of being Pyr that Lorenzo did like.

  Even with the inconvenience of staging his own death.

  The difference this time was that Lorenzo intended to disappear not just from human society, but from Pyr society. It was high time his life was entirely his own. He didn’t care what price the flashfire demanded. Losing his shifter powers would be no great loss if it meant Erik and Balthasar could never find him again.

  Three more days—then freedom.

  Balthasar caught the door before Lorenzo could close it and leaned in to continue the conversation. Lorenzo snarled a little, but Balthasar ignored the hint. “Don’t be stupid. We can all feel the heat of the firestorm.” Lorenzo glared at him, but Balthasar didn’t even blink. “You must feel it yourself.”

  Lorenzo knew his eyes flashed. “I choose to not involve myself in other Pyrs’ business.” He grabbed for the door handle. “It would be touching to see that courtesy reciprocated.”

  “Exactly.” Lorenzo seethed as Balthasar made his argument. “You don’t follow Erik. You avoid the Pyr. You hate humans. And now you’ve had your firestorm. There’s no reason not to join me.”

  “Except that I don’t want to.” Lorenzo shut the door with force, tugging it out of Balthasar’s grip. He turned the key savagely in the ignition, letting the engine roar.

  Balthasar had made these arguments repeatedly, and Lorenzo was bored with them. Why didn’t any of the dragon shifters—Pyr or Slayer—understand that Lorenzo wanted to be alone?

  “It’s not complicated,” Lorenzo said, speaking slowly and deliberately. “I don’t play team sports.”

  Balthasar stood back and smiled, switching to old-speak. “Engine has guts, I’ll give you that. Does yours slip a bit between third and fourth?”

  Lorenzo growled as he put the car in reverse. He wasn’t interested in doing an automotive review with Balthasar.

  “Could be a rental issue,” Balthasar mused; then his voice deepened. “Having your firestorm means you’ll start to age, Lorenzo. I thought immortality might have more allure for you now.”

  It was a reminder that Lorenzo didn’t need. He scoffed instead, taking defense in a good offense. He lowered his window, speaking aloud. “You don’t have immortality to offer. I know a con when I hear one. The Elixir is gone and so is Magnus.”