Winter Kiss

by Deborah Cooke

  How could he destroy the Elixir if he didn’t do it immediately? He was caught between two goals, unable to decide which was more imperative. He still wanted to satisfy both.

  Soon.

  “You should come back,” Niall said, but Delaney wasn’t interested in his argument. “I’ll sell you back your share of the company at the price you sold it to me last year.”

  The offer was more tempting than it should have been. Delaney had no use for shares in a company when he was going to die.

  And yet, and yet, he had enjoyed it so much.

  “No, thanks,” he said, taking a step away.

  “Why not?”

  “Why?” Delaney asked when the silence grew too long.

  “Because I miss you, of course.” Niall was gruff and fidgety, even less comfortable with discussing emotions than Delaney. “Because you were good at it.”

  “‘Were’ being the operative word.”

  Ginger cleared her throat. “What company?”

  Niall was happier answering her question than making his own case. Delaney fought a smile at his former partner’s evident relief in not having to discuss feelings anymore.

  “Delaney and I started an eco-travel company years ago, back before it was fashionable,” he said. “We had a hard time at first persuading people to do hard travel, but slowly built up a reputation.”

  “What kind of travel?”

  “We’d take people to the Galápagos, to Bhutan, to the Arctic. Initially we arranged trips to all kinds of obscure and exotic places, hikes to Machu Picchu, and kayaking in Thailand, that kind of thing.”

  “There are a lot of companies doing that now.”

  “There are. And Delaney had the idea about ten years ago that we should make ourselves distinctive again. We started organizing trips that made a mission. Garbage cleanup on Mount Kilimanjaro, for example, or inventorying bird species in the Amazon basin. We’d join forces with biologists and researchers working in each area, and provide them with some grunt labor.”

  “I like that,” Ginger said. “I like the idea of making a difference in another part of the world while on vacation.”

  “It was brilliant and people loved it.” Niall shrugged. “Of course, other companies started to copy the idea, and even resort hotels got into the possibilities.”

  “That’s a sign of a good idea,” Ginger said, and Delaney felt a modicum of pride.

  “Delaney is all about ideas,” Niall said. “That’s part of why I miss him being around. A couple of years ago, he came up with the bucket list idea.”

  “Places to go before you die?” Ginger asked.

  “No, places to go before they disappear forever.”

  “Oh. Are there many?”

  “I wish the list weren’t so long,” Delaney said.

  “There are atolls that are being submerged as water levels rise, entire islands disappearing in the South Pacific,” Niall said. “The Amazon rain forest is being chopped down to make lousy farmland. The Galápagos are under siege. The Arctic ice floes are melting. The reefs are dying. We go to see polar bears, while there still are some, and I even put Venice on the list last year.”

  “Venice?” Delaney asked with surprise. Previously, they’d focused on natural marvels.

  “Well, you weren’t around to give me a better idea,” Niall complained. He made a sound of exasperation as he appealed to Ginger. “The trips keep getting more popular. We have regulars who go every year, and each year, we have more people signing up for them. I’m getting buried. It’s too much at the office for just one person, even with all the guides we have trained. I’d love to have help again.”

  Delaney had been proud of that idea and it was exciting to know it was successful. It was also tempting to step back into his former position and add to the idea’s success.

  He said nothing, though. He had no future to offer his old friend.

  “Venice,” Ginger said, and he caught her watching him. “Sounds like maybe you should take Niall up on his offer and get involved again. Sounds like your plan is losing focus.”

  It was a challenge and he knew it, as well as a request. Delaney didn’t need any more challenges at the moment. He shivered and rubbed his upper arms, wishing he’d grabbed a coat. “Niall can handle it. He was always the best at organizing the details.”

  “And you were always the idea man,” Niall argued. “That’s why we made such a good team. Come on back.”

  “What about the Elixir?”

  “What about the Elixir?” Niall said with impatience. “Why are you so determined to do it alone and die trying? We could all work together—”

  “No!” Delaney interrupted flatly. “You’re not going to expose yourself to that!”

  Niall regarded him with narrowed eyes. “Why are you letting Magnus run you? You’re smarter than that.”

  “Magnus isn’t running me,” Delaney argued. “I’m making my own choice.” He heard his voice rise. “Just because it isn’t your choice doesn’t mean it’s the wrong choice.”

  Niall wasn’t persuaded. “But think of the future! Think of Ginger and your firestorm!”

  “I can’t think about that!” Delaney shouted. “I don’t have the luxury!”

  “Sounds like you won’t give yourself the luxury.” He almost snarled at Niall in his frustration, in his dawning sense that he might fail at every facet of his plan. “You can’t know the hell that the Elixir creates in your mind. Until you’ve tasted its darkness, until you’ve writhed in a field beneath the eclipse, unable to control your body, you can’t understand.”

  His voice was rising and he knew it, but he couldn’t stop. Niall took a step back and Ginger’s eyes widened. The tickle of the firestorm’s heat, an indication of another thing denied to him, just made Delaney more angry.

  “Until you feel its cold fury inside you, until you feel it eat at your confidence and erode your power, until you’re afraid to go to sleep because it will give you nightmares, you can’t know how debilitating it is!” He gritted his teeth, seeing the horror in both Niall’s and Ginger’s expressions, and spoke tersely.“I won’t permit any of you to know that, regardless of the cost to myself. If that’s the only thing I manage to accomplish in this life, that’s plenty.” Delaney took a deep breath. “The Elixir has to go.”

  Ginger swallowed and Niall looked worried.

  “It’s not that bad of a concept,” Delaney argued.

  “That’s not what’s bothering me,” Niall said softly. “Look at your hand.”

  Delaney looked down and he saw the flush of his skin, the red of his cuticles. He glanced in the kitchen window and caught his own reflection, practically flaming red.

  And that cold. That pervasive cold went right to his bones and was impossible to shake. His involuntary shudder stirred Ginger to action. She opened the kitchen door and made a sweeping gesture toward him.

  “Look at how cold you are. You should be wearing a coat,” Ginger scolded, but Delaney knew that wasn’t the real problem. He met Niall’s gaze and saw that his old friend knew it, too.

  He knew he wasn’t the only one thinking of Cinnabar’s red chill.

  Was his body becoming the new source, despite his own plans? Was it a transformation beyond his own control?

  What had Magnus done to him?

  Chapter 14

  They sat in the kitchen for a few hours, the conversation desultory. Delaney was quiet, but as the redness Ginger had glimpsed on the porch receded, she wondered whether her eyes had deceived her.

  She certainly wasn’t going to think about Cinnabar.

  Much less Delaney trapped in a big vial forever.

  There was a tingle of awareness between them, one that they both tried to ignore, even as the sparks danced and glowed.

  The firestorm was giving Ginger unwelcome ideas.

  It was late when she climbed the stairs to the bedroom, tired and yet filled with a curious anticipation.

  Her heart skipped a beat when she h
eard a footfall on the stairs behind her.

  She didn’t have to look back to know that Delaney was following her. The firestorm warmed her back and fed her desire. She knew she’d be lost if he touched her again, if he showed any desire for her, if he kissed her.

  She knew rationally that it would be dumb to get herself pregnant by a man bent on fulfilling a mission from which he wouldn’t return. She knew what it was like to grow up without parents.

  But there was something about Delaney that got Ginger right where she lived. When his eyes darkened with that tormented look, she wanted to touch him. When he spoke of what he had endured—and he did so only in the most terse tones—she sensed the depth of his pain. She knew she could heal him. The bond she felt with him was strong and irrational, yet perfectly explained by the mythology of his own kind.

  When it got right down to it, Ginger wanted to believe in the firestorm. She wanted to believe in destiny and kismet and that there was someone out in the world who was meant to be her partner and lover. She wanted that person to be Delaney.

  But he had to believe it, too.

  And he refused to do so.

  Maybe he was right. Maybe he wasn’t the person for her. Maybe she was putting a romantic gloss on raw biological need. Maybe she should prove that she was as smart as everyone said she was, and keep danger—danger like Delaney—at bay.

  Ginger stopped at the top of the stairs and turned to face him. He glanced up, halfway up the stairs, and his expression was resolute.

  “Don’t even think you’re coming into my bedroom tonight,” Ginger said, speaking more sternly than she meant to.

  Delaney didn’t slow down. “Don’t even think you’re keeping me out,” he said, his words low. Ginger shivered at the threat in his soft words, all the more potent because he hadn’t shouted.

  “I mean it.”

  “So do I.” He paused two steps below her and looked her in the eye. “The Slayers are tracking us and will be drawn to the firestorm. They try to stop firestorms, in order to stop the Pyr from breeding.”

  Ginger folded her arms across her chest. “Well, they don’t have to stop this one. I’m stopping it.”

  Delaney shook his head. He lifted one hand and that predictable spark danced between her shoulder and his fingertips. Ginger took a step back and the flame made a brilliant arc toward her, sending heat through her veins and lighting Delaney’s features. “There’s only one way for us to stop it.”

  “We’re not having sex again. Not until I know a whole lot more, and maybe not even then.”

  “Then the firestorm will continue to burn.” He arched a brow, looking unpredictable and dangerous. “And the Slayers will continue to come, drawn to its heat.”

  Ginger’s heart leapt. “What about dragonsmoke? Why don’t you just make a perimeter mark?”

  “I’ve done that,” Delaney said. “I’ve breathed smoke, woven it high and deep. I did that the first night, before I left.”

  Ginger was warmed by his protectiveness, but her relief was undermined by his next words.

  “But the Slayers who have drunk the Elixir are learning to do things that traditionally only the Wyvern could do.”

  “The Wyvern?”

  “The only female of our kind. A prophetess.”

  “Where is she?”

  “She died last year. The story is that another will be born, but there’s no telling when that will be.” He shrugged, dismissive of the whimsy that Ginger found fascinating. “The point is that the Wyvern could move through dragonsmoke, I think because she had the ability to spontaneously manifest and disappear in different locations. It’s possible that she would just manifest inside the dragonsmoke ring. I’m really not sure, but some Slayers can violate perimeter marks now.” He met her gaze steadily and she knew he was telling her the truth. “It tends to be the ones who have drunk more of the Elixir who can do that.”

  “That would be most of the ones in our vicinity.”

  “Pretty much.” Delaney frowned. “Jorge was in your barn today, without having left any tracks or signs of entrance. I’m wondering whether he has mastered that art of spontaneous manifestation.”

  Ginger shivered at the prospect of meeting Jorge again, ever. “So, the dragonsmoke barrier is useless.”

  “Probably.” Delaney held her gaze, his determination clear. “The usual way to stop a firestorm is to kill the human mate.”

  Ginger stared at him in horror. “You’re kidding,” she said, but she already knew he wasn’t.

  “I’m not leaving you alone, Ginger, and that’s all there is to it.”

  Was it Ginger’s imagination that the light made him look sharper, more like a predator than she’d noticed before? She recalled how his pupil had been shaped like a slit that morning, like a dragon’s pupil, even when he was in human form, and couldn’t look into his eyes for a minute. He was dangerous.

  But, on the other hand, she was being stalked by even more dangerous Slayers. It was a good thing to have a Pyr prepared to defend her.

  “So, what’s the resolution? You’re staying here forever? When does the firestorm end?”

  “It ends when it’s satisfied.”

  “When a child is conceived.” At his nod, Ginger felt her lips tighten. “What if that doesn’t happen?”

  Delaney shrugged. “Some Pyr say that the firestorm burns hotter and becomes more demanding as time passes, that it becomes harder and harder to deny.”

  Ginger folded her arms across her chest and lied. “I’m feeling very resolute.” Her claim was ridiculously untrue, pure bravado, and Ginger knew it. If Delaney touched her, she’d be a goner.

  His smile was fleeting, but precious all the same. It made her wonder whether he knew that she was talking big, too.

  “There are tides we cannot withstand, Ginger,” he murmured, his soft words making her mouth go dry. He met her gaze, his own eyes dark with intent. “If we’re destined lovers, how can we evade each other?”

  He raised a hand and Ginger knew he would touch her, as surely as she knew that sparks would fly.

  As surely as she knew she might be lost.

  But she held her ground and waited for the knee-melting surge of desire all the same. She’d never turned and run from anything or anyone, and she wasn’t going to start now.

  Ginger caught her breath when Delaney’s fingertips brushed her jawline. Just as she’d anticipated, a cascade of sparks fell from the point of contact, each one sending an urgent demand through her body. She heard herself gasp, felt her knees weaken, knew her lips parted.

  Delaney slid his fingers into her hair and gave her the tiniest tug to bring her closer. Ginger fell against his chest, loosing a shower of sparks, knowing her body was on the firestorm’s side.

  She didn’t have time to regret it, or even to consider whether she should.

  Because Delaney kissed her.

  It was a sweet and wild kiss, a seductive and slow kiss that turned demanding. Ginger felt the heat emanate between them, flow through her body and feed the inferno that had been within her since meeting him. Her nipples tightened, her breasts lightly crushed against his chest, her mouth sizzling as his kiss teased and tempted.

  And he was holding her with only one hand, his long, strong fingers curled around her nape. Ginger let him feast upon her mouth, let her tongue dance with his, let the firestorm melt her reservations and resolutions.

  Or maybe it was just Delaney.

  Maybe he would have had her number even without the firestorm’s magical heat. What would be his effect upon her after the firestorm was satisfied? Ginger couldn’t believe she wouldn’t still want this man with everything she had.

  Ginger broke their kiss, planting her hands on his chest. Delaney let her do it, his eyes gleaming like diamonds in the darkness as he watched her. Ginger took a step backward, caught her breath, and locked her hands together behind her back.

  When she spoke, she sounded breathless, even to herself. “The firestorm should have
been satisfied already, from what you’ve all said. So maybe there’s something different going on here.”

  “Maybe it just needs another chance.” He was beside her in one step and she backed into the wall, staring up at him as he braced his hands on either side of her shoulders. “I could satisfy the firestorm,” he said, his words silky low, “whether you agreed or not. I could extinguish it and make you invisible again to the Slayers.”

  His gaze danced over her, that increment of space between them filled with the golden heat of the firestorm. He was taut, so much larger and stronger than she that Ginger should have been afraid.

  She wasn’t, though, because she knew Delaney wouldn’t force himself upon her. He was asking her for what he wanted.

  He spoke in a low whisper, his words making Ginger shiver with desire. “I could ensure that my obligation to the Pyr was fulfilled, before I leave on this mission.”

  It was too tempting to surrender to his request, to give him what he wanted.

  But that would make it easy for him to leave her forever.

  “No.” Ginger didn’t give him a chance to argue with her. She knew what she had to say, and she had to say it now, before she was dissuaded of what she knew was right. “You think it’s all so easy, that you feel the firestorm and knock up the woman in question; then you carry on with whatever it is you intend to do. You’re not thinking about the child. You’re not thinking about the future.”

  His expression set. “I don’t have a future.”

  Ginger wondered whom he was trying to convince. She chose to argue for her perspective. “That’s your choice, but any child I bear will have a future. I’ll guarantee it. And a future without a father isn’t a very appealing one for any child.”

  “I would have been better off without my father.”

  “Well, I wasn’t better off without mine,” Ginger said.

  “Let me tell you a story.” She took a deep breath and loosed her story on a tide of words, one she couldn’t stop once it had started.

  “Once upon a time, there was a couple who fell in love. The man’s name was Sean Sinclair and the woman’s name was Elena van Vliet. They grew up around here. They went to school together and they went to the same church with their families, and they knew each other all of their lives. And all of their lives, they were smitten with each other, and everyone joked how Elena and Sean were going to get married one day. In high school, they were sweethearts. They went to the same college—Sean for dairy farm management and Elena to become a teacher—and after they graduated, they were married in June.”