And then the jar of herbs coming at Jack, tumbling over and over in the air toward his head. Rebel had called out in warning, but no one could hear her. She watched the jar shatter on his skull, the herbs coating his body, watched him seize into a spine-cracking arch, body bent backwards, toes barely touching the floor.
Screaming.
And then the balcony doors exploded outwards with a hot sulfurous wind like a taste of hell, and Rebel was flying off the balcony, half-conscious, tumbling inexorably toward the ground.
Thorne came down in a deep dive, magic and earthquakes and deep terrible voices rumbling through his brain. As he approached the back of the house, headed for the lighted French doors on the left side, the doors shattered outward with a huge booming crash.
He saw Zane get blown out in the aftershock, holding Blaze in his arms. His brother Changed, wings unfurling, and caught the wind.
Thorne blew out a fiery breath of relief. He was all right.
Thorne was turning to follow Zane when he saw a dark limp figure tumbling off the balcony, nearly invisible in the shadows. He furled his wings and dove, praying he’d get to her in time.
He barely made it. He caught the woman in his front claws six feet above the ground and backwinged furiously to keep himself from crashing. He landed hard, breaking a bone in his left back foot, but she was alive.
He laid her gently on the ground. She was dressed in all black, masked like a cat burglar. Thorne turned back to human and examined her for injuries, but she seemed to be okay, just stunned.
Thorne peeled away her ski mask and looked down at her. She had a strong face, not conventionally pretty, maybe—the mouth was too broad and the features too bold.
But there was something about her…
Thorne sniffed, not believing what he was scenting. A faint residue of magical tracking dust.
He sat back on his heels, wincing at the pain in the broken foot. This must be the woman Zane had met in the vault the other night. She’d returned for the idol.
She hadn’t caused that spell explosion, though. If she had enough power for that, he would smell it all over her.
Thorne glanced up at the balcony. He could sense movement in the room beyond, and feel strange magic. Attackers?
He leaped upward, Changing to dragon form, and flew up to the balcony with two great flaps of his wings, hovering in the air. The room beyond was a wreck, spell books and ingredients and candles all tumbled off the shelves onto the floor. In front of the far wall was a jagged black oval about the size of a doorway, and two black-robed figures were staggering through, supporting a third.
Thorne Changed to human and darted inside, but he was too late. The figures disappeared into the black, and the portal shrank and vanished, leaving nothing but wreckage behind.
Thorne gave one quick look around, but the intruders were gone. He flew back down to his mystery woman.
There was no one there.
Rebel stumbled through the woods, grabbing onto trees and underbrush to keep herself upright. She was still feeling woozy—all she knew was that all hell had broken loose, and she had to bail.
The last thing she remembered was the magical explosion knocking her off the balcony, sure she was going to die. And then waking up lying on the terrace, with barely a scratch on her.
What the hell had happened? She’d bet money none of those crazy-ass sorcerers would have saved her, even if they’d been in a position to.
Was it the witch?
If so, why? And then, why just leave her there?
She heard faint sirens in the distance. First responders, checking out the explosion. They might find Jack Harper’s van parked down the road from the house, but they wouldn’t find anything to link it to her.
She’d parked her own car two miles from here, at the head of one of the hiking trails that crisscrossed the ridge, and walked from there. She wasn’t hiking that far right now, though. Her whole body ached, and her head was still ringing.
Rebel stuffed her ski mask in her pocket and pulled off her gloves, shaking out her hair. She’d walk to the nearest well-lit house and call an Uber from the driveway, pretending she’d been visiting there. With her burner cell and an Uber account under a fake ID, no one would ever trace it to her.
She’d get as far away from this crazy mess as possible.
Then she’d figure out what to do about that damn idol. And how to keep that psycho sorcerer from coming after her and her sister.
Chapter 25
Blaze was flying. The lights of downtown Portland were spread out below her, shining in the night. And holding her was…
A dragon. She kept trying over and over to process that whole concept, as if it would suddenly begin to make sense.
It didn’t help that she was weak and nauseated from all the power she’d expended, and shaking from adrenalin reaction. She’d fought the coven and fallen three stories off a balcony—and somehow not died.
Because Zane had turned into a dragon, and saved her. Zane. A dragon. A great big horned, clawed, motherfucking probably fire-breathing dragon.
A freaking monster.
Right this minute, while she was clutching that hideous idol and shaking like a leaf, he was flying through the night with her cradled in his dragon arms. She was sitting in the palm of one monster hand, held right up against his chest, and he’d wrapped the other one around her, his huge talons and six-inch claws enclosing her like the safety bars on a theme park ride.
Gradually, as they flew, her shaking calmed. She still had occasional chills, but Dragon Zane was warm, like leaning against a radiator in the winter. Scales covered his body, but here on his talons and chest they were tiny and supple, making his skin feel soft.
And he was blue. For some reason that surprised her; she’d always thought of dragons as red or green or maybe black.
She wondered what other colors they came in.
Thinking about Zane and dragon scales and colors was comforting. It meant she didn’t have to think about the fact that the coven had come after her.
Silas had come after her.
They would have killed her. They nearly had.
She’d always told herself that would happen—that if they found her, they’d kill her. It was why she was so careful, so paranoid.
And yet, she realized now a part of her had never quite believed it. These were people she’d grown up with—her extended family. How could they want to hurt her?
And if they would, she’d never wanted to know. Now she did, and she had to live with the fact that she was really, truly alone.
She shivered. They’d found her. They knew where she was; they knew the name she was using now. And they knew she still had the idol.
She clenched her hand around it. Part of her wanted to just drop it, let it tumble to the ground and be done with it. Better yet, drop it straight into the river.
But she knew, deep in her heart, that it would surface again. It would make sure it got into the hands of someone with power, someone it could control.
“Like Frodo’s bloody damn ring,” she muttered.
Pardon?
Holy hell. Dragon Zane could talk inside her mind. And he didn’t get the reference, so he’d clearly never read Lord of the Rings. Maybe he’d been offended by the dragon murder in The Hobbit and never gone any further. “Um—where are we going?” she asked.
My evil lair, of course.
His mind-voice sounded like he was kidding. She didn’t know how she knew that, but she did. “Not funny,” she said. “Not after the night I’ve had. In fact, I think I need you to put me down, because I’m kind of freaking out.”
She’d started shaking again. Because, hello. Dragon talking in her mind and taking her somewhere she probably couldn’t escape from.
Um, put you down where exactly?
Good point. They were like a gazillion feet above Portland. She wondered if there was a helipad on top of any of these hotels. Preferably one with a bar, because she could r
eally use a drink right now.
And she did not want to go to a dragon’s lair. That couldn’t be a smart move. “Anywhere,” she said. “The Nines hotel has a nice rooftop bar. Or, you know. Just anywhere I can get a cab.”
There was a silence. Then, Am I really that much scarier than the people who just tried to kill you?
“To be honest, right now everything about my life is pretty scary.”
There was another silence, longer this time.
I won’t harm you. His voice was soft in her mind. Quiet, and a little… hurt? Could dragons get their feelings hurt?
But I do think my lair is the safest place. There was a pause. You’re free to leave at any time.
Yeah, right. On the other hand, he had saved her from the coven. And from smashing onto her own terrace in a bloody heap. She shivered again and Zane tightened his hold on her fractionally, pulling her a bit closer.
As if he were trying to comfort her.
Maybe he was a friendly dragon. “Your name’s not Puff, by any chance, is it?”
If you start singing that ridiculous magic dragon song, I’m dropping you. But he still sounded like he was kidding. Probably.
Slowly, Blaze relaxed in his arms. He was holding her so gently. She would never have expected a dragon to be gentle. They were supposed to be terrifying. Cruel and arrogant and uncaring about anything but themselves and their clans.
Contemptuous of humans.
And yet, he’d saved her. She put a hand tentatively on one of his big scaly fingers, stroking the skin, marveling once more at its unexpected softness.
She felt him smile again, in her mind, without even saying anything. Warmth spread through her.
“I guess I could go there for a little while. To your lair,” she said. “But don’t try anything. I have magic powers and I’m not afraid to use them.” Although she felt right now like she’d used them all up.
There was a feeling of silent laughter. Don’t worry. I don’t eat humans.
That was a relief.
Unless they’re beautiful women, and they beg me.
She got a sudden flash of herself lying back in a huge, medieval canopy bed hung with rich velvet curtains. She was leaning against a pile of down pillows, naked, with her hair spread over the pillowcases like a flame. Hundreds of candles illuminated the room, giving it a romantic, rosy glow.
And Zane was there, also naked, candlelight burnishing his skin to bronze, his head between her legs, lips and tongue worshiping her sex, driving her to the edge…
She could physically feel it. She gasped, and a rush of heat and wet pooled between her legs.
The image cut off abruptly. Sorry.
Wait, he could put things in her mind without realizing he was doing it? That would explain what had happened the first time he kissed her.
But now she couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened in her gallery. How gentle he’d been, how intense. The song of the gold, and the feeling like her whole body was glowing.
Holy hell. She’d had sex with a dragon.
And she still wanted him. Blaze leaned back against the soft, warm dragon skin, with no idea what she was going to do next.
When they’d passed the graceful curve of the Fremont bridge, sparkling with lights, Zane beat his great wings hard, climbing in a wide curve. Then he swooped down towards what looked like a huge, rocky cliff. The ragged stone rushed toward them at terrifying speed.
Blaze closed her eyes.
She felt Zane lift his chest and swing his hindquarters down, backwinging to slow them down. They landed with almost no vibration, and Zane set her gently on her feet, holding her with his forepaws until he was sure she was steady.
Blaze opened her eyes and looked around.
They were on the roof of a huge stone house that looked like part of the cliff. For a moment it looked like nothing more than a pile of rocky crags, and then she blinked and it looked like a house again. Like one of those 3-D optical illusions, where you could see a figure against the background if you looked at it just right.
There was a glamour on this place, Blaze realized—a spell that hid it in plain sight. The idea of trying to place a permanent glamour on a mansion made her feel faintly nauseated. Trying to use that much power could kill you.
There were no lights to be seen, but there was a soft luminous glow surrounding her, allowing Blaze to see dimly.
She turned to look at Zane.
His huge head hovered above her, looking down. His snout was elongated, just like a fairy-tale dragon, with a backward-curving horn on his nose and two smaller ones protruding from his eye ridges. She could see a hint of long, wickedly pointed teeth.
But his eyes—the glow was coming from his eyes. Electric blue irises with thin vertical pupils, deep black slits except for a pinpoint of flame right in the center. They were mesmerizing.
He watched her, staying very still.
She stared at him, hypnotized, unable to reconcile this mythical, alien creature with the man she’d eaten pepperoni pizza with, who’d told her his story.
Who’d made stunning, amazing love to her.
He tilted his head slightly, as if studying her reaction, and then moved his snout slowly towards her until it just barely nudged her arm.
Hesitantly, she put her hand on his head.
The skin of his nose was made of the same tiny soft scales as his forepaws. It radiated heat, a reflection of the fire within him.
His mental voice was soft. Are you okay?
No, she wasn’t okay. She was scared and bone-tired, and she felt more alone than ever.
She said the first thing that spilled out of her heart. “They used to be my best friends. I loved them.”
They were from your coven?
She nodded.
But the idol changed them.
“Yeah.”
He paused a beat. Then he said, I’m sorry your friends are gone.
That was it. That was what hurt the most. Her friends were still alive, but they were gone. The love they’d felt for her was gone. All the games, the inside jokes, the late nights watching movies and practicing spells and talking about life.
Gone.
All of them sucked into that black hole the idol had created, their souls stolen. It was worse than them being dead.
Dragon Zane nuzzled her softly, and she leaned against his huge warm head, feeling his strength.
The moment was broken by a fierce wind blowing a shower of grit and dead leaves over them, and out of nowhere there appeared another huge dragon, coming in for a landing. It was bigger than Zane and darker blue, and it looked really pissed off.
Blaze clutched the horn on Zane’s nose and prepared a fire shield spell in her mind.
The dragon landed on the roof, holding up one back leg as if it were hurt. It shimmered, and then the air sucked back toward it, as if a fan had been turned on the wrong way. The dragon turned into Thorne Greystone. Large and imposing, wearing jeans and a t-shirt that hugged his scary-big chest, and a truly terrifying frown.
The Greystone brothers. Of course. They were all dragons.
She wondered if Thorne could breathe fire while he was in human form. She hoped not, but he looked like he would if he could. She kept the fire shield spell ready, just in case.
Blaze felt another huge inhale of air, and then the warmth of the dragon next to her was gone and Zane was standing beside her. For a moment his eyes still gleamed dragon-blue, pupils like slits, and then he blinked and he was just Zane again.
He, at least, seemed unintimidated by Thorne’s expression. “Are you okay?” he asked, taking a step toward his brother. “You look hurt. What happened?”
Thorne waved him off. “Landed too hard and broke a bone in my foot when I—never mind. It doesn’t matter. What the hell happened to you? The whole ridge was shaking. I got to Blaze’s just in time to see you go flying off the fucking balcony.”
Zane looked startled. “You were there? Did you get the sorcerer
s?”
Thorne shook his head. “They created a portal and booked off to where they came from. Do you have any idea how much power that takes?”
Blaze did, and the answer was somewhere in the neighborhood of ‘a fuck-ton.’ “They formed a portal? Inside my workroom? On the fly?”
Thorne turned his gaze on her, then back to Zane. He was a lot scarier than he’d seemed the other night, when she didn’t know what he was. “What’s she doing here? Does she have the Seal?”
Zane shook his head, and Thorne’s lips tightened. “Dammit!”
“We have even bigger problems, bro,” Zane said. “Where’s Tyr?”
“Monitoring room,” Thorne said.
Zane sighed. “Then we better get down there,” he said. “We need to talk.”
Chapter 26
Without giving Blaze another glance Thorne turned and strode toward a staircase at the edge of the roof, still limping a bit.
Blaze looked around. “Well, I asked you to put me down on a rooftop,” she said. “Too bad there isn’t a bar.”
Zane was still standing close to her—too close. His warmth was comforting, but the intensity of his gaze was a little unnerving. “You definitely don’t need a bar,” he said. “After all the power you threw at that idol, you need food and rest. You’re tapped out. Come on.”
He wasn’t wrong—the kind of power she’d put into that protective circle had drained every ounce of energy from her body, and she felt slightly nauseated. But Zane hovering over her and deciding what she did and didn’t need was making her hackles rise.
“I’m fine,” she said. “Although I’d still like to drink about a half a bottle of whiskey and pass out.”
If only that would make her problems go away.
“Maybe later. Right now we need to figure out what the hell happened tonight. We’ll get some food for you down in the Batcave.”
“The what, now?”
Zane raised an eyebrow. “I told you I was taking you to our evil lair.”
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