Kings of the Fire Box Set

by Lily Cahill

  “Blayze is here,” he said. “I saw a car pull into the parking lot.”

  This motel didn’t seem to be a very happening place. Now that Vincent pointed it out, she hadn’t heard any other guests there all night.

  Joy pasted on a fake smile. It was a little too easy—years of practice, of being at the center of the public eye. “Sounds great. Lead the way.”

  They walked out into the parking lot, the silence between them thick like a concrete wall. Was it only hours ago that Joy had felt closer to Vincent than she ever had to another human being? It felt like ages ago, like a completely different person had lived those moments.

  Blayze was in a flashy sports car—somehow even flashier than Vincent’s, which seemed like a difficult bar to meet, let alone exceed.

  “God,” Vincent said, upon seeing it. “He must have done an interview or something, and then blown the cash. The idiot.”

  His voice was fond, despite his words, and she laughed, momentarily forgetting all of the hurt between them. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, his expression neutral—not upset, but not happy, either. Maybe they’d be okay with one another eventually, once he found his dream girl and she had a chance to rebound.

  Even as she thought it, Joy knew in her heart that there was no getting over Vincent Dragomir.

  Blayze honked the horn and leaned out the window. “Hey, you two! Let’s get a move on! We’ve got a wedding to get to!”

  Joy shushed him out of habit. “That’s supposed to be a secret. If anyone got wind of what’s happening…”

  Blayze pushed his sunglasses down his nose and looked around the empty parking lot. “Right. Because this is a real hotspot for paparazzi activity.” He leaned back into the car. “We’re burning daylight, here.”

  “Now he cares about being on time…” Joy grumbled.

  She and Vincent both walked to the other side of the car, awkwardly pausing as they tried to figure out where to sit. Did she take the front seat, or the back? They hesitated, neither reaching out to touch the door handle. What if they did at the same time and she touched him? Would her heart break even more?

  “You go ahead, take the front.” Vincent opened the door and moved the seat forward before climbing in the back. “I’ll be okay back here.”

  That seemed improbable—Vincent was a big man, tall and stacked with muscles. He would probably be too crowded in that tiny seat.

  But he was already partway there, and Joy wasn’t going to argue with him. She let him get settled then put the front seat back and settling in it. She pulled it forward so that Vincent would have a little extra leg room.

  As soon as her door was closed, Blayze was off like a rocket, speeding out of the parking lot and back onto the winding road.

  “Right,” he said, rolling down his window so his blond hair could flow in the breeze. “So I heard lots of things. Apparently you two were attacked by some unknown entity, is that right?”

  Joy nodded. “There’s supposedly an evil witch out there that’s after Vincent.”

  “You okay, Vin?”

  “I’m fine, thank you. We’re not positive the attack was aimed at me.”

  Vincent sounded so aloof, cold. He didn’t have any of the playful warmth Joy had managed to tease out of him the day before. It made everything that much worse. Where was that man? She hadn’t imagined him.

  Even if they weren’t destined to be lovers forever, did he have to lock away all the sides of himself he had only just begun to show her? It wasn’t fair. She’d just started to glimpse all the bright facets of his personality that he normally didn’t expose.

  Maybe friends didn’t get to see the real him, then. Or maybe he didn’t intend to ever be her friend.

  Joy swallowed the lump that was suddenly rising up her throat. Now was not the time to dwell on this. If she started crying in the car, there would be no stopping when it came to the questions she’d have to answer.

  No, it was better to hold it all inside, for now. Just until she could process everything a little.

  “That’s not the story I heard,” Blazye said, interrupting her train of thought. “I heard that Joy over here got to speak to Glinda.”

  “Glinda?” Joy asked.

  “She’s a good witch. What else are we going to call her?”

  “Right. Well, yes. Glinda seemed pretty certain that Vincent was the target of the attack, so don’t let him fool you with his nonchalance.”

  Blayze raised his eyebrows at her, and Joy felt herself flush under his gaze. Could she be any more obvious? She might as well have stamped I really care about your brother on her forehead.

  Vincent slid lower in his seat. “I’m not trying to fool anyone.”

  The rest of the ride was completed in perfect, horrible silence.

  As soon as they were parked, Joy opened the car door. She nearly bolted away at a full run, until she remembered that Vincent was trapped in the back seat.

  She couldn’t leave him there.

  She took a moment to pull the seat forward, and then she was off, not looking back. She couldn’t. If she did, she’d see his face, and some part of her would die inside.

  Walking away as quickly as she could, Joy went over her priorities in her head: get through this wedding, get through the reception, and then focus on making sure Vincent was safe. Once all of those objectives had been completed, she could go back to her life. She could go back to Augustus and—what, exactly?

  Tania had been her only real friend in Augustus, and she hadn’t talked to Joy since her parents had been arrested. They’d kept in touch throughout rehab, even though they weren’t supposed to, but the arrest had caused complete silence. She didn’t know if Tania was still in rehab or not, really. Maybe they hadn’t been as good of friends as she had thought.

  There weren’t parties waiting for her in Augustus, there wasn’t a job ….

  There were neither of those things in New York City, either.

  She knew she had it easier than so many people coming out of rehab. She had the support of her wonderful sister, the comfort of knowing she could take her time in finding a job because she had financial help to fall back on.

  But that didn’t fill her time, and it didn’t make her feel much better. She was starting to realize she’d never really had anything worthwhile going for her, and that the drugs had masked that fact.

  She sometimes wished they still could.

  For a moment, she’d thought that maybe she had Vincent, but now she saw that that was naïve. People didn’t feel as strongly as she felt from a day together. It just didn’t happen.

  Her mind was so full she didn’t notice the cute B&B her sister had chosen for her wedding. She didn’t even greet the girl at the front desk as she walked in, just moved automatically toward the steps. Felicity had to be up there, getting ready. Joy would just throw herself into this wedding and not think for a little while.

  Felicity, as if sensing just what Joy wanted, appeared at the top of the staircase.

  “You made it!” she cried. She was wearing a silk robe and face full of makeup, her hair up in curlers. She looked beautiful already. “I was so worried!”

  Seeing Felicity there, so excited and blooming with happiness, made Joy want to open up. It made her want to spill all of her thoughts to her older sister and be comforted, just as she always had been. But today was not her day, so she swallowed it back down.

  “I hope you have something for me to wear other than this,” she motioned as her jeans and t-shirt, grungy from a day of near-constant wear.

  “It was the second thing I worked on, once we got here. The first was putting up all the wards, and then as soon as they were as strong as I could make them, I spelled a dress I brought with me into something new,” Felicity said, grinning. “I just need you to try it on.”

  Of course Felicity, had worked on Joy’s dress before putting on her own. Felicity was that kind of girl. She deserved all the love in the world.

  I
t took all her courage, but Joy worked a smile across her face. “Sounds perfect. Now let’s see about your hair…”

  Chapter Eight

  Vincent

  THE MOMENT THEY WERE PARKED, Joy was out of the car. She took just long enough to pull the seat forward so that Vincent could get out, and then she was gone.

  Blayze turned in his seat, eye comically wide. “What the fuck did you do?”

  Vincent pushed his way out of the car and slammed the door closed. “I didn’t do anything.”

  It wasn’t strictly true. He’d slept with Joy, and that was certainly something. He had never been with someone so responsive before, someone that made him feel like he knew and understood every inch of their bodies. He always felt so out of touch with his human form, but Joy—she made him feel present in it. She made him want to live in it.

  Or she had, at least. Now all he wanted was for Blayze to leave him alone for a few minutes so he could find a place to shift. It’d been days since he’d been a dragon, and he could feel the heat in his blood, coursing just beneath his skin. He needed to let it out, needed to stretch his wings and forget about all his petty, human problems.

  Although he wasn’t sure that he’d forget about Joy, even as a dragon.

  Blayze was hot on Vincent’s heels, talking a mile a minute. “Look, I don’t know what went on between you and Valdez the younger, but you need to get your shit together. This is Damien’s day, and I’m pretty sure he’ll murder you if you ruin it.”

  “I’ll just blame you so that he murders you instead.”

  “He would totally believe that, too,” Blayze complained.

  The wedding was being held in a small hotel, just outside the city. It was quaint and pretty. The parking lot led to an immaculately kept front lawn and a rustic-looking Victorian building, painted a soft yellow. They crossed toward the front porch, and were inside the foyer a moment later.

  There was a woman at the front desk, but she apparently recognized Blayze and waved them through. It was a small wedding party—Felicity and Damien had not wanted anything over the top. If it had been any bigger, it was likely that the press would have gotten wind of it, and that was the last thing anyone wanted.

  Felicity had set her heart on this bed and breakfast, with their beautiful backyard that she had dressed up in small, tasteful ribbons and a few white seats—just enough for family. There was an archway covered in flowers. It was the most low-key wedding Vincent had ever seen, but it so perfectly represented what Damien and Felicity had together; they didn’t need frills or attention when they had each other.

  It hurt to look at all of it, the obvious pronouncement of their love, and know that Joy didn’t feel that way about him. He’d been so sure—he was still so sure. She was the one for him. There was no doubt in his mind that he had found the woman he would love for eternity.

  And she didn’t feel the same.

  It was a bitter pill.

  Blayze hovered at Vincent’s side, sending him worried looks. The two of them didn’t always see eye to eye—Blayze was flighty, and never serious, and he was always in trouble for something or other that he did without thinking.

  Still, they were brothers. He cared about Blayze, and he knew Blayze cared about him.

  “So, did you bang Joy Valdez? Is that what happened?”

  If Vincent were honest with himself, he cared a little bit less for Blayze at moments like this.

  “It’s none of your business.”

  Blayze sighed. “Oh, God. You did. And now you’re both having some sort of weird postsex hangover where you regret seeing each other naked. Or something. Am I right? I’m right, aren’t I?”

  “Shut the fuck up, Blayze.”

  He didn’t.

  “Did you make it weird, or did she?” Vincent refused to reply, but that didn’t stop his brother from continuing to blather on. Unfortunately. “It doesn’t matter, I guess. Look, you just have to make it through today. So keep it polite, keep it distant, and maybe in a few years, you guys won’t cringe at each other every Christmas.”

  “You’re not helping.”

  “I’m not, am I?” Blayze sounded genuinely puzzled.

  It wasn’t his fault. Vincent knew that. It also wasn’t Blayze’s fault that he had stumbled onto his perfect match, the girl made just for him. He and Ramona balanced each other—she made him more grounded, he brought out her sense of humor. They were perfect for each other, just like Damien and Felicity, and Vincent’s head was full of a girl who would never feel like that for him.

  What did it hurt to tell Blayze? Sure, he’d probably go tell Arryn and Damien, and the three of them would gang up on him in attempts at being nice. But was that so bad? For the past twenty years, they’d done nothing but look out for each other. It was actually sort of comforting to know that his brothers still had his back.

  “I thought—I think—that Joy might be….mine.” The words were coming out wrong, so he kept trying. “Like in the story. Like you and Ramona.”

  “Yours like yours.” Blayze nodded. “And you haven’t told her?”

  “I did tell her. She said no.”

  Blayze whipped around to stare at him, aghast. “Well, you must have done it wrong.”

  That wasn’t what Vincent had expected to hear. “What?”

  “You don’t get these feelings out of nowhere, Vin. It’s fate. If you think she’s your fated match, if you feel it deep down in your bones…” He shrugged. “Tell me what you said to her.”

  “I don’t know. It was this morning, after…” He trailed off. “And I said that there was one person out there for me, and then she said she understood, but that we should just be friends.”

  “And you told her that one person was her?”

  Vincent frowned as he searched his memory. “I mean…wasn’t that implied?”

  “God, you’re an idiot.” Blayze shook his head. “You’ve spent so much time as a dragon you’ve forgotten how to be a person. You have to tell people things, Vin. Like, actually articulate the words. You probably didn’t even tell her you love her, did you?”

  He hadn’t. Vincent blinked, reeling. It had seemed so obvious to him, what he was trying to tell her. But what if it hadn’t been, and they’d both spent the past few hours miserable because he hadn’t been clear enough?

  “I am an idiot,” he said, feeling twice as stupid because all of this had been illuminated to him by Blayze, who he had thought was the most tone-deaf person he knew.

  He’d forgotten how important it was to say what he meant, to use his words and not hold back. It had been years since he’d felt safe enough to fully embrace his human side. Joy made him feel like it was okay. He wanted to do that for her.

  “I need to fix this.” The urge to find her sent his body into overdrive, making him feel jittery. Adrenaline pounded through his system, and his dragon was roaring, demanding he go, find Joy, convince her of his intentions, and keep her with him forever. “I need to fix it right now.”

  Vincent only got a step or two away before Blayze caught his sleeve and pulled him to a halt. “Hold on there for a second. The wedding starts in forty-five minutes. We need to find Damien and make sure everything is all right. You’ll have to worry about your own romantic drama later.”

  Every second felt far too long, but Vincent nodded stiffly. Blayze was right. Wedding first, and then he’d find Joy and confess his love for her. He would win her over.

  There wasn’t any other option.

  Less than an hour later, Vincent stood next to his brothers in front of the wildflower archway, smiling as Joy walked her sister down the aisle. Felicity hadn’t wanted the rest of her family present—she’d changed so much of the old regime in her short tenure as head of the Valdez family that most of them didn’t want much to do with her, either.

  Felicity was a vision in white, her dress a simple lace-thing that clung to her body and then fell in ripples to the floor. It was Joy that Vincent couldn’t look away from, though.
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  He wasn’t sure what she was wearing, or where they had found it—perhaps Felicity had created it through magic. The dress was a dark blue that beautifully complemented Joy’s naturally tan skin. It hugged her tight at her breasts and then flared out at the waist, accentuating every gorgeous curve of her boy. Her hair was long and flowing, and she smiled like she’d had a perfect night’s rest, not showing an ounce of the pain he knew she had to be feeling from their accident the day before.

  Vincent loved her. It was undeniable. He hadn’t known if he’d ever love anyone, and yet he’d fallen in love so hard and so fast that it all seemed impossible. But it somehow wasn’t.

  Joy’s eyes were on the officiant as he spoke about love and devotion, about the necessity of partnership in a marriage. Vincent could only listen with one ear. His brother and Felicity were gazing at each other as if the whole world existed in the space between them, but even their simple and beautiful display couldn’t make him tear his gaze away from Joy.

  Suddenly, she darted a glance toward him.

  Vincent’s heart leaped in his chest.

  “And now, Damien and Joy have written their own vows. Damien, if you would ….”

  Damien cleared his throat. “Felicity, since the moment we met .…”

  His voice faded to white noise. Vincent could only see that quick look Joy had given him, the flash of her dark eyes. He wanted it to happen again, silently willed the universe to let Joy glance over at him once more—

  And she did. This time, when she looked at him, her gaze held. Her brow was furrowed slightly, as if she were confused, and Vincent held her eyes. He tried to communicate with a look all the things he had failed to say that morning—I love you, I want you, you’re mine and I am yours.

  Joy didn’t look away.

  Slowly, her brow relaxed and her beautiful face softened. His heartbeat was a drum in his ears, loud and persistent. Her eyes suddenly seemed too bright, like she was fighting back tears—it could have been the wedding, but she was still staring at him, and he knew, right then, that he had to make up for ever hurting her.