Darkest Fire

by Tawny Taylor

  The restaurant was less than fifty yards from her now. Her pace slowed.

  Everything’s going to be fine.

  She repeated her mantra in her head a few dozen times. Took a few more deep breaths.

  Better.

  Her resolve reinforced, she clasped and unclasped her hands to work out the tension, hurried up to the door, yanked it open, and stepped inside. Semiblind after coming in from the glaring sunshiny day outside, she clacked up to the hostess. “Hi, I’m meeting someone, Drako Alexandre.”

  The hostess tucked a blond lock behind her ear as she checked her list. “Yes. He’s already been seated. This way, please.”

  Feeling a smidge faint, Rin followed the pretty girl to a wooden booth at the back of the restaurant. Drako—quite the gentleman, for a guy who was about to buy a wife—stood, flashing one of the most charming smiles she’d ever seen. That grin kicked all the fluttery butterflies in her stomach into frenzied action.

  Ugh, like she was going to be able to eat a bite of food. Then again, she wasn’t there to eat anyway.

  “Hello, Rin.”

  “Hi.”

  “You look very nice.” He waited for her to sit before he eased back down.

  “Thanks. So do you. Nice . . . shirt.”

  The hostess placed a menu on the table and she stared blindly at it.

  He cleared his throat. “A drink?”

  “Oh! Um, it’s a little early for the hard stuff.” Although she could sure use a few shots of something. She directed her drink order to the hostess. “I’ll just take a cola. Diet, please.”

  “Coke?” the hostess asked.

  “That’s fine. Thanks.” Trying to hide how nervous she truly was—the butterflies in her stomach were doing cartwheels now—Rin sat on her hands and smiled. “Have you eaten here before?”

  “No, I haven’t.”

  “The burgers are good. Salads too.” When he glanced down at his menu, her gaze skimmed down his neck, following the curve and curl of his tattoo before landing on a broad shoulder covered in crisp white cotton. “Then again, you probably don’t eat much salad.”

  “Actually, I do.”

  “Oh.”

  He looked up, eyebrows pulled down. “Do you know what you’re ordering already?”

  “Um, no.” She scooped up the menu sitting in front of her and unfolded it, deciding it made really good cover. Her cheeks were so hot the cook could probably fry bacon on them. “The soup looks good.” Shoot, her hands were shaking. Just a little. But she wondered if he could tell.

  Calm down, Mitchell! Why are you so freaking nervous? You never get this wound up.

  A set of familiar fingers curled over the top edge of her menu, and then she felt it being slowly pushed down, gradually uncovering Drako’s handsome face.

  He tipped his head to the side. “The waitress is waiting.”

  Had the waitress spoken? Was she so out of it that she hadn’t heard her? Knowing she wouldn’t eat, regardless of what she ordered, she just rattled off, “I’ll take your house burger with fries.”

  “I’ll take the same.” Drako watched the waitress retreat for a split second before turning those haunting eyes her way again.

  So dark. And mysterious. She could seriously get lost in them. And then there was that mouth. When the corners quirked up, she got warm all over. He’d almost kissed her when they’d been dancing. That moment was burned into her memory forever. Her lips still tingled.

  “Can we talk now?” she blurted, anxious to just get the business end of the conversation over and done with. Before she passed out.

  “Sure.” He clasped his hands together on the table. “I take it you’ve made a decision, then?”

  “I have.” Deep breath. “I’ll accept your offer. But on one condition.”

  He didn’t seem surprised by her acceptance or the fact that she wished to add a condition to the arrangement. “Which is?”

  “I need fifty thousand dollars right away.”

  “For?”

  “A personal debt.” She added quickly, “This is a one-time thing. I promise I’m not a gambling addict, druggie, or shopaholic. I won’t have a problem living within my budget from this point forward.” She held her breath.

  “How soon?”

  “Today. Or tomorrow at the latest.”

  Gaze sharp, almost to the point of being intrusive, he bent his elbows and leaned forward. “And how do I know you won’t take my money and disappear?”

  Good question.

  If she were he and he were she, she wouldn’t trust him. Herself. Whatever. Bottom line, it was a lot of money to risk. “I wonder how long it takes to get a marriage license in Michigan,” she thought aloud.

  “Three days,” he answered.

  “You’ve done your homework, then.” Three days? Shit. Plan A was out. “Okay, how about we go ahead, get the license, and then you give me the money? I’ll stay at your place for the next two nights, so you know I won’t run off.” She held her breath again.

  After a couple of heartbeats, he shook his head. “No. You’ll wait for the money.”

  Noooooo, I can’t!

  She scrambled to come up with a Plan C.

  Where could they get married today? Vegas popped into her head. But it was too far to travel. It was after noon already. By the time they got to the airport it would be late afternoon. And then who knew what kind of flight they’d get, if they could even get one. Anywhere else? Closer. Where they could drive?

  Ohio, of course.

  She’d have to get on the phone pronto, make some calls, see if she could find someone to officiate. It was doable. Maybe. “Any chance you’d be willing to take a road trip today?”

  God, this was awful, throwing together her wedding like this. As the oldest daughter of a single mother, she’d never expected to have a fancy wedding. But she certainly hadn’t thought it would be this pathetic. Married in a courthouse—hopefully. In her regular clothes. In a rush. To a stranger who was into kinky stuff she didn’t fully understand.

  Yet the only part about her plan she really hated was having to leave the state without Lei. It was risky, but waiting three days would be even riskier.

  “Road trip? Where?” he asked.

  “My home state, Ohio.”

  He nodded. “Did you want your family to attend?”

  “Oh, no.” Outside of her sister, she had no family. Their grandmother had died several years ago, and as far as she was concerned, their mother was dead too. “It’s just that there’s no waiting period in Ohio. I remember some friends from school got married on a whim once. And I’m assuming you’re just as anxious to get this . . .” Over with. “. . . rather, anxious to move on to other things as I am.”

  Say yes. Please!

  He frowned, eyebrows bunching, lips curling down. Even with his features all puckered, he was attractive. “Wouldn’t you rather have a nice ceremony? You know, with all those things you talked about yesterday? Dress, veil, church—”

  “Oh, no. Not me!” she lied. “I’m a very practical person.”

  “Or very desperate for money.”

  No use denying it. “As the case may be.” For the third time since arriving, she held her breath. This was it. Her cards were on the table. She’d either walk away a winner or lose everything. Her insides twisted into a knot.

  She’d never had the stomach for gambling.

  4

  He had learned from the best. He’d learned to hunt, to kill, to outsmart the enemy and to find a weakness and use it to his advantage.

  He’d also learned to avoid vulnerability.

  Now, after years of planning, of hating, and of living with nerves strung so tight with anticipation he’d thought they’d snap, he was free. And he was ready.

  The first step: to set the trap.

  The Black Gryffons had been created by Augustus, emperor of the Roman Empire, two thousand years ago. They served only one purpose—to guard The Secret, an ancient power source some ign
orant son of a bitch a couple of thousand years ago had misused, almost wiping out the entire human population. It had taken the Chimera two thousand years to track down the Black Gryffons, to learn who they were and where they were hiding.

  The Secret had been within their grasp.

  And then they’d fucked up.

  But now the Chimera had a new leader, a man who had vision, devotion, and determination. He would give humankind the gift that had been stolen from them. No action was too bold or price too high.

  Shades of gray.

  With the power source under his control, humanity’s reliance upon all other forms of power would be eliminated. No emissions from burning coal. No destruction of wetlands by oil drilling. No production of dangerous radioactive by-products. Man would have all the power he would need.

  And he, The Serpent, as he’d been dubbed by the other members of the Chimera, would rule all the nations.

  What was it going to take to lure the Black Gryffons from their hole? How would he defeat the Lion, the Eagle, and the Dragon?

  The three brothers who were the Black Gryffons were mortal, but it wouldn’t be easy to defeat them. They were well trained, educated, and as determined to protect The Secret as he was to find it. The brothers would have to be subdued, separated, and then manipulated into revealing the location of his possession. There were a lot of details to work out yet. Practice runs. Unlike his predecessor, he would be prepared.

  He figured by the end a few innocents would die. But if they could understand what cause they were about to die for, surely they would agree their life was a small price to pay.

  The view outside the window, of acre upon acre of cornfield, was not even remotely as intriguing as the one inside the sleek black Mercedes they were riding in, but Rin was too lily-livered to turn and look at the man sitting beside her.

  In a little over one hour, sixty-some-odd short minutes from now, she would be that man’s wife. Mrs. Drako Alexandre. And all her dreams, of falling head over heels in love with a dashing man, Mr. Perfect, and joyfully trouncing down the aisle in a white, frothy wedding gown, would be nothing but a silly childhood fantasy.

  It won’t be that bad.

  How many marriages between starry-eyed lovers started in bliss but ended in bitter, ugly divorce? At least she’d be spared the shock of discovering her husband spanking another woman; she knew from the start he’d be doing that and more. And wouldn’t it be easier to make a commitment last decades if it was built upon something more stable, more enduring than passion?

  Mutual dependence, respect, and friendship had to be a more solid base for a relationship.

  Her soon-to-be husband was still and silent as he drove, his eyes focused on the road, hands resting on the steering wheel, fingers curled loosely around it. When she stole a glance at his profile, she saw his expression hadn’t changed since they’d left to make the all-too-brief trip to Toledo. The Ohio–Michigan border was less than ten miles up ahead. Her heartbeat was speeding up a smidge with every mile that passed, not just because of what was to come but also the heavy, tense silence hanging over their heads like churning storm clouds.

  She wouldn’t listen to the quiet voice in her mind, the one that kept whispering, “You’re making a big mistake.” That voice had been wrong before; it could be wrong now.

  Another mile passed and one itty-bitty nerve, pulled too taut, snapped, and she blurted, “Tell me you won’t be a jerk and make me regret this. Tell me something, anything, that’ll give me some hope that we won’t make each other miserable for the rest of our lives.”

  He looked at her, smiled, then turned his attention back to the road ahead. “I put the toilet seat down. And I do my own laundry. I wash windows. Oh, plus I don’t watch sports.”

  She wasn’t buying it, but she was relieved to have finally broken the quiet. “Liar. No man is that perfect.”

  “I’m not saying I’m perfect. But I’m telling the truth. I don’t watch football, baseball, hockey, basketball, or even the sports roundup on the news.”

  She couldn’t help it. She laughed. And it felt good to release some of the pent-up energy crawling through her system. “You sound like a dream-husband, then.”

  He shrugged. “Maybe to a woman who doesn’t like putting the toilet seat down, washing windows, or watching football.”

  “Wouldn’t you know it, but that would be me. I guess we were made for each other.” She took the first full lungful of air since they’d left. “Thank you,” she said to his profile. “For making me feel a little better about this.”

  The corner of his mouth curled up, and the skin around his right eye crinkled. “That’s not to say I’m not without my faults. You might want to know about those before you say ‘I do.’ ”

  She was almost 100 percent sure she didn’t want to know what his faults were yet, but that didn’t stop her from asking, “And those would be . . . ?”

  “Well, I’ve been told by one or two people that I’m as stubborn as a mule. I’m the oldest son of a demanding, disciplined, distant father. As such, I’ve learned to work hard and accept no less than perfection from everyone around me. I’m a perfectionist, so everything I do, I do flawlessly, or at least to the best of my ability. That works to my advantage sometimes, but not always. I don’t accept my own failings well.”

  “You’re Type A. Me too. I’m the oldest of two. I have a younger sister, who is the typical second-born, attention-seeking, rebellious . . .” She cleared her throat, a feeble attempt at disguising the catch in her voice. “Our mother wasn’t much of a parent, and so I sort of stepped in at an early age and tried to take care of Lei. I can’t say I did a good job, but I tried my best.”

  He glanced at her before responding, “Lei is very lucky to have had a sister who was willing to do that for her.”

  “I don’t know. If you said that to her, she might disagree.”

  After a semilong stretch of silence, he asked, “Why didn’t you invite your sister? To the wedding?”

  “I would’ve liked to. But she’s . . . she’s sort of busy right now. There’s no chance she could make it, even if we waited a few days. But I’m hoping she’ll come to see us after the wedding, maybe stay with us . . . ?”

  “She’s more than welcome to stay as long as she likes. My home—our home—is large. There’s plenty of room.” He flipped the turn signal, and Rin, realizing it had been a few minutes since she’d looked out the window, turned her head to read the sign approaching.

  It was their exit.

  Her life was about to change, and it wasn’t going to be a minor adjustment. It was going to be a major transformation. She would have a new home, new responsibilities, and a very different lifestyle. Her heart did a little fluttery hop in her chest. Her palms were instantly coated with sweat, making them itchy and warm. She dragged them down her thighs and tried to pretend like she wasn’t petrified.

  The conversation they’d shared in the last few minutes had erased some of her worries, not that they were completely eradicated. No single five-minute chat would do that, especially not one as strained as that one had been. But at least her future husband wasn’t a complete stranger any longer. She knew a little about him, and he knew a little about her. So far, she’d neither heard nor seen anything—beyond the obvious, asking a stranger to marry him—to make her think he was anything but a decent, hard-working man who had a very realistic, if cynical, view of marriage.

  “I think we’ll understand each other okay,” he said.

  “I hope so too.”

  He met her gaze again. It was probably only for a brief moment, less than a second, but his eyes really focused on her. “We both want the same thing—to make this work as best as we can.”

  She nodded. “Yes, we do.” She didn’t say anything for the rest of the drive. There wasn’t anything to say, even though there probably should have been. After all, they were about to say vows in front of a judge, and enter into a binding lifelong contract.

 
After Drako put the vehicle into park, he turned to look at her. The tension between them was so strong, the air between them crackled. “If you don’t want to go through with this, all you have to do is tell me now. I’ll take you home, no hard feelings.”

  “No, I’m ready.” As ready as she’d ever be.

  “Are you sure, Rin?”

  “Absolutely. What about you? Any doubts?”

  “One.”

  “Oh?” She hadn’t realized she’d looked away until he caught her chin in his hand and moved it to the left. Her eyes followed a fraction of a second later.

  “I’m not convinced you’ll make it through the ceremony without passing out or throwing up.”

  Her laugh was a nervous titter. “You might be right about that.” She patted her belly, which she had to admit seemed to be home to a whole swarm of wildly flittering butterflies, overdosed on super-heavy-duty flower nectar. “I’m hoping my stomach’ll settle down by the time we get into the courthouse.”

  “Can I get you something before we go in?”

  “No.” She felt her cheeks flushing and wondered if the heat gathering under her skin was from overwrought nerves or the embarrassment of being so freaking nervous in front of this man that she felt she might throw up.

  Please, God, let me get through this without making a fool of myself.

  When he released her chin, he gave her jaw the lightest brush of his fingertips. Then, while she sat there tingling, her face flaming and her hands trembling in her lap, he opened his door, exited the vehicle, and as she fumbled with the lever, he opened her door and helped her out of the car.

  Standing next to him, she was very grateful for the fact that he was much bigger than she, strong and stable and capable. She looped one of her arms around his and held on, surprised and mortally humiliated by how wobbly her knees were.

  She wasn’t about to face a firing squad. She was just going into a courthouse, for crying out loud.