Winter Kiss

by Deborah Cooke

  But she took another step closer.

  The Elixir was cloudy, like milk mixed with blood, and she refused to think about what the white part of the solution might be. It swirled in the large bowl, moving relentlessly even though there was no obvious source for a current. It emanated cold, a chill that slid right into Ginger’s marrow. She shivered, but stepped closer.

  That was when she saw the silver beads on the lip of the bowl. There was a thick rim of hoarfrost, white at the perimeter and gradually more pink as it grew thinner over the surface of the Elixir. And on the perimeter of the bowl, outside the crust of ice, were silver beads.

  It looked like the mercury that had fallen out of a thermometer her grandmother had dropped and broken decades before. Ginger had been fascinated by the rolling beads and had helped her grandmother to gather them up.

  It had been that night when they realized that the white gold on Gran’s wedding ring had been corroded to nothing by the mercury that she’d gathered in her left hand.

  Ginger didn’t dare touch the toxin, but she wanted to upset the bowl. Spilling the contents would rid the Slayers of at least this much of their precious Elixir. It would get their attention.

  And maybe, from that, would come an opportunity. Ginger would have liked to have had a better plan, but she had to work with the only thing she had.

  One big bowl of Elixir.

  A blush of heat touched her shoulder suddenly, as if the sun had come out from behind the clouds. It was still overcast, though, the sky still gray overhead. The snow continued to fall with relentless speed, steadily filling her footsteps.

  Ginger looked up in confusion.

  She caught her breath when she saw three dragons high in the sky overhead. They were too far away for the colors of their scales to be distinguished, but Ginger’s heart leapt with hope that she knew who one of them was.

  She felt the firestorm, after all.

  Two of the dragons abruptly recoiled and turned their course back in the direction they had come. They twitched convulsively and Ginger remembered Thorolf’s comments about dragonsmoke’s burn. The house must be surrounded with the smoke.

  One dragon flew closer though, moving with steady persistence. She smiled when she saw that his scales were copper and emerald, even though they looked to be blackened on one side.

  Delaney was alive!

  And even better, he wasn’t abandoning her to whatever fate Magnus had in store.

  Ginger’s elation was short-lived. She had to warn Delaney of the danger to him. She had to tell him that Magnus had a dark scheme for him. She glanced at the glass walls surrounding the atrium but couldn’t see any shadows moving in the adjacent rooms. The glass was tinted, so she had no idea whether she was being watched.

  She didn’t want to contribute to Delaney becoming Elixir fodder. All the same, she was glad to see him. She watched him fly closer, her heart hammering, the firestorm sending a welcome heat through her body. She pretended to be studying just the bowl, stealing as many upward glances as she dared.

  There wouldn’t be many, as much as she would have loved to have stared at him openly. She loved how Delaney flew, with smooth grace and power, the same way—she realized suddenly—that he walked. Crowds on dance floors parted for him, people sensing his quiet authority. It was also the way he made love, all confidence and power. He exuded grace and strength, like a trained athlete, and one certain of his abilities.

  She stole another peek skyward. He was much closer, which explained why she felt as warm as she did. His scales were blackened, as if they had been burned, his beauty diminished by recent battles.

  She still thought he was gorgeous, though. There was a cut on his shoulder that she could see, and the ruby scab of his crimson blood was in stark contrast to the dark dark green of his wings. She savored the sight of his allegiance to the Pyr, the truth of his heart’s inclination, then recalled that was why Magnus wanted him so badly.

  Then he grimaced and turned, recoiling from some invisible foe. With each of the circles he flew over the atrium, his moves became more taut. He had to be in agony from the dragonsmoke and he clearly couldn’t come all the way to her.

  But he endured pain to let her feel the heat of the firestorm. Ginger welcomed its heat and its implications, knowing that she had been too quick to assume his selfishness.

  After the third circuit, Delaney turned out of the curve, moving backward in an erratic pattern. Ginger watched and understood that smoke not only burned, but could give chase. She bit her lip as Delaney struggled to evade it, and admired how he never made a sound of protest.

  He retreated, but she knew he wasn’t gone.

  He’d come once, enduring the pain of dragonsmoke. Ginger recognized a reconnaissance mission when she saw one. The very fact that he’d come to check on her gave her new strength and confidence. She might not be able to escape this prison on her own, but she had three dragons on her side, one of whom was ready to put himself in danger to help her.

  Delaney would be back.

  And Ginger would be ready.

  She eyed the Elixir and made her plan.

  Chapter 11

  “I don’t get it,” Thorolf complained as he dropped another bag of fertilizer into the backseat of Delaney’s rental car.

  Delaney and Niall each dropped a bag into the trunk and the car sat lower on its shocks. “One more each?” Niall asked.

  “Let’s overengineer it,” Delaney agreed with a nod. “We’re not going to have a second chance with this plan.”

  “But I don’t get it,” Thorolf repeated, following the two Pyr back to the barn. There was a large stack of fifty-pound bags of fertilizer at the back of the barn, a stash that Delaney had suspected would be there.

  All the same, he was glad to have found it.

  He was even more glad to be putting it to work.

  “It’s got a lot of nitrogen,” Niall said, as if that explained everything.

  “So?” Thorolf grunted as he lifted another bag to his shoulder.

  “Nitrogen is explosive,” Delaney said.

  Thorolf still looked confused.

  “Remember the Oklahoma City bombing?”Niall asked, his tone becoming impatient. “A load of high-nitrogen fertilizer, some kind of spark, and you’re good to go.”

  “Go where?” Thorolf asked.

  Delaney fought a smile at Niall’s exasperation. “Sky-high.”

  “I still don’t get it.”

  “We’re going to blow the front off Magnus’s house,” Niall said, his tone reflecting his opinion of Thorolf. “Ginger is smart enough to run once there’s no physical barrier to her freedom. When she gets out of the dragonsmoke, Delaney will be able to snatch her up. You and I will meet fire with fire and cover the escape.”

  “Oh!” Thorolf eased the bag he carried into the backseat. The undercarriage of the car was nearly scraping the ground. He glanced at Ginger’s pickup truck. “We should have used the truck. It would carry more.”

  “I can’t destroy Ginger’s vehicle,” Delaney said in a tone that allowed no argument. “The renter will do.”

  “Good thing you haven’t got any emotional bonds here,” Niall said mildly, and Delaney glared at him.

  “It wouldn’t be fair to her.”

  Niall didn’t looked persuaded. “You like her.”

  Delaney ignored that and shut the car door.

  Thorolf ran a hand over his hair. “So, who’s driving?”

  “I am,” Delaney said. “I can get closer, despite the smoke.”

  “You’re getting fried, you know,” Niall said, his manner worried. “One of those bastards is going to wise up and make a conduit of the smoke, then steal some of your energy.”

  “It’s not so bad,” Delaney argued.

  Niall rolled his eyes.

  “Maybe it’s the Elixir that lets him take the smoke better,” Thorolf suggested.

  Niall and Delaney looked at each other. “The smoke still burns,” Delaney admitted.
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  “But you can take some of it,” Niall said. “And I can’t take any.”

  “Me neither,” Thorolf said.

  “There are a lot of things you can’t do,” Niall observed, and the two looked daggers at each other.

  “I can take a lot of pain, but not that,” Thorolf admitted. “It feels like the dragonsmoke is sucking me dry.”

  “That’s because it is,” Niall said.

  Thorolf shuddered, then eyed Delaney. “Maybe a sip of the Elixir isn’t such a bad idea.”

  “It’s a rotten idea,” Delaney said sharply. “It ruins your life and destroys your will to live. It gives you nightmares and leaves you writhing in a field like an animal when there’s even a partial eclipse. You’re always hungry for more of what’s killing you.” He met Thorolf’s astonished gaze. “Trust me. Do not go there. Nothing that stuff promises is worth what you get.”

  Then he got in the car, started the engine, and backed out slowly. Thorolf looked alarmed.

  “Be careful,” Niall counseled.

  “I’ll do whatever has to be done,” Delaney said, seeing that his answer didn’t please his old friend.

  “You can count on us,” Niall insisted. “Just give us a shout when you’re close.”

  “Will do.”

  As much as Delaney hated to admit it, he might need help and he was glad of the presence of these two. He saw in the rearview mirror that the two Pyr stayed in the driveway, watching him make his way toward the main road. Niall had his hands shoved in his pockets, his expression grim. Thorolf glanced between Niall and Delaney, his uncertainty about the plan more than clear.

  Delaney, though, knew exactly what he had to do.

  It took Delaney a long time to get to Magnus’s driveway, what with the road conditions and the car riding so low. He was afraid to hit a bump and damage the gas tank when the car was full of explosive fertilizer. Darkness was falling when he turned into the driveway, although night came early this time of year.

  He hoped Ginger was still okay. It had taken far longer than he’d hoped to get this far.

  Delaney felt the first twinges of dragonsmoke as soon as he turned down the driveway, but he forced himself to ignore it. The house was surrounded by a brick wall, one that enclosed a couple of acres as well as the house itself. It had to be a dozen feet tall and was capped with spikes.

  Delaney wondered what the locals thought of Magnus’s need for security in such a quiet place.

  There was a steel gate halfway down the driveway, securing the only breach in the wall. There was an intercom on a pillar just before the gate, but Delaney didn’t press the button.

  He knew the Slayers wouldn’t let him in.

  Instead he got out of the car. The dragonsmoke assaulted him as soon as he opened the door, burning his skin in a thousand places simultaneously. It slipped beneath his clothes, but he shifted shape quickly.

  That only increased its effect upon him. It eased beneath his scales, scorching every bit of skin it touched. It might have driven Delaney mad with the pain, but he’d fought off madness before.

  And this pain was external. The battle he’d fought against the Elixir had been for his heart and his mind. He recalled an expression about anything that didn’t kill a man making him stronger, and concluded the same logic applied to the Pyr.

  Meanwhile, he flew to the gate, grasped its icy steel, and ripped. In three tries, he barely bent the gate, revealing that Magnus had invested in high-quality steel.

  It was nothing compared to Delaney’s motivation, though. He felt the first tickle of the firestorm, weaker in intensity than he’d felt before, but strong enough to empower him.

  Ginger was in there, trapped in a situation of Delaney’s creation. She had no chance of escape or survival beyond his efforts. He’d endangered her without meaning to do so, but he still had to fix the mess he’d made.

  He thought of her, freezing in that atrium without her coat, and roared with anger. He clenched the gates and wrenched them open, casting one broken piece of steel aside. An alarm began to ring, but he shifted shape and drove the car toward the house as quickly as he could. The dragonsmoke increased in intensity, the pain so excruciating that he wanted to scream aloud.

  He didn’t.

  He drove, his expression grim, his resolve unshakable. Delaney had gotten Ginger into this and he was going to get her out of it.

  Even if it was the last thing he did.

  Ginger hooked her hands beneath the rim of the bowl filled with the Elixir and lifted with all her might.

  It didn’t budge.

  She wasn’t truly surprised. The basin had to be six feet across and almost two feet deep, and looked like it was carved of stone. Maybe it was made of poured concrete. At any rate, she hadn’t expected it to be light.

  She bent down and considered the point where the underside of the basin met the pedestal. It was possible that the whole fount had been made in one piece, but a lot more likely that it was two. The seam should be a weak point.

  It was worth a try. If nothing else, Ginger just had to make enough ruckus to distract the Slayers from whatever scheme the Pyr had planned.

  She backed across the courtyard into one corner, then did some deep knee bends to warm up a bit. She eyed the basin with its evil contents and built up her resolve. She’d never done a high kick before, but this was a good time to try.

  She didn’t have much to lose.

  Ginger ran directly at the basin, leaping into the air toward it. She kicked high and hard with both feet, her boots connecting with the rim of the basin.

  It shook hard but didn’t fall.

  She, however, fell right on her ass.

  The Elixir sloshed over the back rim of the basin, and the hoarfrost broke around the edge. Ginger peered under the basin and thought she could see a hairline crack between the basin and pedestal.

  Encouraged, she brushed herself off and repeated the exercise, launching her attack from the next corner. She reasoned that she’d break the seal faster that way, but really wasn’t sure. She ran harder, having a better idea of the distance, and kicked harder, punctuating the impact with a shout. She landed harder too and knew her hip would be black and blue.

  But there was a cracking sound, and the basin shifted slightly. It wasn’t level anymore, but slightly tipped. The Elixir sloshed over the edges, staining the snow on the patio a vivid red. Ginger got to her feet, sensing triumph.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  The man’s voice was low and quiet, the kind of voice that carries over a surprising distance and launches a shiver down the spine of everyone who hears it. Every syllable dripped with threat and intimidation.

  Ginger recognized that voice. She swallowed and pivoted to face the Slayer with the accent, the one who had brought her here.

  In human form, he was tall and fair, but now his hair was shaved to a bare bristle. He was buff and could have been considered handsome, but his eyes were such a cold blue that he could have been made of ice.

  Ginger knew he had a block of ice for a heart. She took a step backward. Even if she’d never met him before, she would have recognized danger when it stood right in front of her. One glimpse would tell any thinking person that this was a man who would kill and maim, and probably enjoy every moment of it.

  He came closer and Ginger realized his leg was in a cast. She remembered that Delaney had cut off the Slayer’s back claw to free her.

  Did Pyr and Slayers carry their injuries between forms?

  She took another step back, jumping when a second man cleared his throat behind her.

  “You can’t get away,” he said, and she spun to find him smiling at her. Ginger didn’t know this man—he had dark hair and very dark brown eyes, and his accent was French. There was a cut at the outside corner of his eye, one that must have been painful.

  She glanced back at the first Slayer, who had come even closer. The two moved steadily into the atrium, forcing Ginger to move c
loser to the Elixir.

  “I’m just cold,” she said. “I wanted to get your attention.”

  The blond smiled and it only made him look more unfriendly. “You have it.”

  “Well, then maybe we could go inside.” Ginger glanced brightly between the pair of them. “After all, my being frozen isn’t going to help you much.”

  The dark one chuckled and the fair one smiled more broadly. “Don’t you understand?” he asked softly. “You’ve outlived your usefulness, even for bait.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Delaney knows where you are. He’ll come here.” The blond opened his eyes slightly in emphasis. “We don’t need you anymore.”

  “But, but, Magnus wants me alive.”

  The blond looked across the atrium, visibly scanning it, then met her gaze again. “You’ll notice that Magnus is conspicuously absent.”

  They moved even closer and Ginger backed up, knowing from the chill that the Elixir was right behind her back. “But isn’t Magnus the boss? You wouldn’t want him to be angry with you.”

  The blond Slayer sneered. “Magnus grows old and feeble. Right now, he’s having his nap. Soon he’ll be begging me for more of the Elixir.” He nodded at his partner. “Grab her. Let’s have some fun while we wait for Delaney.”

  The dark-haired Slayer snatched Ginger from behind, holding her easily off the ground. Ginger panicked and struggled, making absolutely no difference in her situation. “What are you going to do?” she demanded, hearing her voice rise.

  The blond eyed her. “We’re going to find out whether the Elixir truly is toxic to humans, and in what quantities.” His eyes glinted. “Consider it a little experiment.” He beckoned, his right index finger changing to a dragon talon as he grinned.

  “Low exposure over time is the best way to start,” Ginger said wildly.