Charred Heart (#1, Heart of Fire)

by Lizzy Ford

  “Yeah,” Chace said. “Allegedly, it’s been this way for thousands of years. I’ve been alive for a millennium, and I’ve never heard of a dragon slayer or any slayer at all.”

  “Me neither,” both replied.

  “So we agree. Something ape-shit weird is going on here.”

  “Nothing wrong with apes,” said Max defensively.

  “Sorry, Max,” Chace replied, amused at how sensitive the primate-shifting man could be. “Bat-shit weird sound better?”

  “Yeah,” Max replied. “I’ll handle this.”

  “No, thanks,” Chace replied. “I need answers, not blood everywhere.”

  “Mr. Nothing told you to find these people, right?” Luke asked. “Why not just ask him for more information?”

  “He didn’t want to be found today.”

  “Like Mr. Nothing is a friendly neighborhood librarian?” Gunner retorted.

  Chace sipped his beer, listening to them talk while his thoughts strayed to Skylar. He hoped the fleece interior of the cuffs didn’t chafe her wrists then remembered he hadn’t started the wood stove. He’d started to then gotten distracted. She was probably freezing.

  What was wrong with him? She deserved nothing but to become the fried chicken she kept talking about.

  Except it bothered him that she, too, was likely involved in something that left her a victim of some organization bent on capturing and killing shifters. His mind returned to how – a few short hours ago – he’d had her thighs wrapped around his head while he devoured the sweet, slick nectar of her core. Every time he touched her, it got harder to walk away. When he tasted her, leaving was almost painful.

  I have to keep away from her. He had no idea what it was about the woman that ensnared him and wouldn’t let him go. Was this how slayers worked? They seduced their prey as a means of controlling them? Because right now, the only thing he was able to think about was fucking her again.

  “I say we put in a call to Mr. Nothing then find out where this rehab camp is,” he said, forcing his mind away.

  “You want us to let one of these slayers capture us?” Luke asked scornfully. “Huge risk.”

  “No,” Chace said with a smile. “I got one. I’ll get the information.”

  “Let me talk to him!” Max demanded, slamming his fist on the table. “You never hurt a fly, Chace! I can do this.”

  “I can do it, Max,” Chace snapped. “I may not hurt a fly, but I can dangle a slayer over a canyon and threaten to drop her if she doesn’t cooperate.”

  “Her?” Gunner’s eyes narrowed. “Wait, it’s not the chick who wandered into the bar two weeks ago is it?”

  Chace said nothing.

  Gunner and Luke exchanged a look.

  “Who was she after?” Luke asked.

  “Me,” Chace said mirthlessly. “Luck of the draw.”

  “We need to do something soon,” Gunner’s gaze went around the bar. “Another two disappeared last night. I put out the word that they should travel in pairs at least.”

  “I know the shifter code is not to commit violence, but at this point …” Luke drifted off.

  Chace felt both of their gazes on him. A flutter of guilt went through him, knowing he’d signed away their only safe haven without understanding that’s what would happen once he was human. Mr. Nothing was using him to find the people responsible for killing shifters – but how long would he wait and how much information would be enough for the elusive Mr. Nothing to cash in his end of their deal? What if Mr. Nothing just took Skylar and left the rest of the shifters to their fate?

  Suddenly restless, Chace rose.

  “I’ll find out something by morning and let you know the plan,” he said resolutely. “Why don’t we keep the bar here and encourage people not to leave for a day or two?”

  “You think that’s safe?” Gunner asked.

  “I think that Max can crush the melon of any non-shifter that ventures close.”

  Max perked up, straightening in his seat at the mention of the lift of the restriction Chace gave him long ago for being admitted to the bar.

  “Can you handle trespassers?” Chace asked him.

  “Not a one will live,” vowed Max.

  “All right. Sounds good.” Chace hid a smile and glanced at Gunner, who grinned, understanding Chace’s unspoken message to keep Max from going completely nuts.

  Chace walked out of the bar and stood for a long moment in the last rays of the late autumn day. He breathed in the ocean air, concerned about the shifters and just as concerned that he’d screwed up by not realizing that they’d be vulnerable without his magic.

  It was his mess to fix, the last good thing he’d do before Mr. Nothing ended his suffering.

  He willed himself to change and braced himself for the tearing and rebuilding of his body as it took on a dragon’s form. He vaulted into the sky and flew, the great wings propelling him forward at dizzying speeds. He’d taken it easy on Skylar earlier, not wanting her too suffer too much during the flight, before he had some answers.

  This time, however, he went as fast as his wings would let him, anxious to learn more about what he’d inadvertently stumbled into. Mr. Nothing was right – who else but the strongest could protect the small society he was involuntarily a part of?

  He reached the mountaintop across the country in about two hours and landed, starving. Flying left him hungry, which meant he needed to roll out his grill and cook up some food. The air was cold on top of the mountain, and the cabin had turned on a light the way it did every night for him. Smoke came from the chimney, indicating the cabin’s magic had done what he forgot.

  She won’t freeze. At least, not until I have to dangle her over the cliff’s edge again to get some more answers. Whatever it took to protect his people …

  Chace picked up the clothing he’d carried in a talon, pulled it on and strode to the cabin. He opened the door, ready to start the inquisition, when he saw she wasn’t hanging in the middle of his cabin like he expected.

  He froze, startled, and looked around.

  Skylar was lying in his bed, sound asleep on her stomach. Her hands were still bound and extended above her head.

  Chace closed the door, checking the magic of his cabin instinctively.

  “What the hell?” he whispered to the cabin. “I gave you strict instructions!”

  The cabin didn’t respond. It never directly disobeyed him, just often found creative ways of doing what he asked of it that bordered on passive aggressive. After a thousand years, he thought they had reached an understanding of sorts. Had the magic taken pity on her, or did she somehow affect it the way she did him?

  Approaching the bed, his eyes swept over her, and a familiar stir of desire warmed his loins. He had the urge to touch her once more the way he always did when they were together. And when she kissed him … some part of him melted. Maybe it was because she felt so real, so unlike every other woman he’d been with ever since the curse descended upon him.

  Focus, fool.

  “Skylar,” he said.

  She shifted.

  “C’mon. Wake up.”

  Rolling groggily onto her side, she eyed him then sat up. Her gaze searched his features intently, as if she wanted to see if he was about to shift.

  “How did you get free?” he asked.

  She shrugged. “Told the hook to release me, and it did.”

  Damn cabin. “Anyway, I have an idea. You want to take me in, and I need to know what’s happening to the shifters who go into your reprogramming camp.”

  She frowned.

  “So. Take me in.”

  Skylar shifted to lean against the backboard. “You’re going to eat everyone, aren’t you?”

  “First, I’ve never eaten anyone. Ever.” He rose, agitated once more by her insistence he was some sort of monster. “Or fried them. Second, I’ve never hurt anyone in my life. Ever.”

  She was staring at him.

  “Okay,” she said softly. “When you do that, you
freak me out.”

  Chace paced, needing fresh air already. He wasn’t expecting to feel her cool hands on his forearm and jerked away.

  “Chill, dragon,” she told him and took his arm again. “For whatever reason, you don’t flip out when I’m touching you. So … just stand there for a minute.” Her cool hands wrapped around his forearm.

  Chace resisted the urge to move away before his magic forced him to shift. Instead, he concentrated on what was going on inside him, the inexplicable quieting of his magic. He absently responded to the instinctive impulse to be closer to her and looped an arm around her, pulling her into his body while he concentrated on subduing his magic.

  “You just can’t … ugh!” she muttered. “You are so lucky my hands are bound.”

  “Or you’d kill me?” he asked, amused.

  “I’d give it a good try.”

  “Pretty sure you ran last time we faced off.”

  She shot him a glare, pushing at his chest while her face flushed.

  “I’ll let you go, but no guarantees I won’t turn into a dragon right here,” he said, loosening his grip on her.

  She hesitated, uncertainty crossing her features, then rested her hands on his chest. Her plump lips were ripe for kissing, even if she looked ready to cut him to pieces.

  Chace gazed down at her, wishing he knew what it was about her that drew him with inhuman need. If he knew, he could turn it off, and his life would be easier. Her lower body was pressed to his, the depths of her blue eyes like the sky. He felt himself tumbling into them the same way he did the heavens.

  “Maybe if you kiss me, I’ll free your hands,” he offered.

  Her eyes dropped to his lips and for a moment, he thought she was going to refuse.

  As she had on two other occasions, she lifted to her tiptoes and kissed him lightly then started to drop back to her heels. Chace captured her soft, warm mouth with his, his other arm going around her. She tasted of minty toothpaste and her own flavor, which was as sweet and addictive as the nectar of her core he’d sampled two weeks ago. It made him want to listen to his physical urges instead of the warning bells going off in his head.

  But he didn’t. With regret, he eased away. Her breathing was uneven, her body resting against his.

  “You drive me crazy,” he told her in a husky voice. He willed the magic to free her, and the manacles around her wrists disappeared.

  Her look was slightly dazed, her lips reddened from his kiss.

  “Kinda complicated, isn’t it?” he asked, as perplexed by what was between them as she appeared to be.

  She sighed and reclaimed her balance.

  “I don’t do complicated, Skylar,” he warned her. “Whatever this is … it’s just physical. Something we can both walk away from.”

  She raised an eyebrow at him and pried herself away. Whatever she was thinking, she didn’t say it, instead stepping out of his reach. He felt the loss of her body heat like he’d feel the cold of the air outside the warm cabin.

  He didn’t like it. Rather than focus on it, he turned to the fire and quickly assessed himself. His magic was calm once more, though his hormones and erection were nowhere near as placated. He grimaced, hating the idea of walking away from her when she seemed willing to sleep with him.

  “Back on task,” he said as much to himself as to her. “Tomorrow, you’re taking me in.”

  Her silence was troubled, but he didn’t dare look at her, not until he’d settled his blood. Every time they touched, her scent ended up infused into his senses, distracting him.

  “Got it?” he prodded.

  “You’re not worried that I’ll warn people about what you’re doing?”

  “Pretty sure I can handle it.”

  “But you don’t kill people, remember?” There was sarcasm in her voice, enough to draw his gaze. Her arms were crossed, her eyes direct. Her features were still flushed from their kiss.

  “The way I understand it, I only need to kill you,” he reminded her.

  “If you aren’t going to kill everyone, what do you plan on doing there?” she asked.

  “What is your obsession with me killing people?”

  “It’s what you do. You’re a dragon.”

  “Shifters don’t hurt people, Skylar. They mind their own business and try to lay low.”

  “We wouldn’t have spent the past thousand years hunting them if that was the case,” she argued.

  “You haven’t. Slayers are a recent thing. I’ve been alive for a thousand years, and you are the first slayer I’ve ever heard of, let alone met!”

  “That can’t be true,” she replied, studying him. “They couldn’t track you.”

  “They didn’t exist. Now that they do, shifters are dropping like flies. Your people are collecting them for a reason.” His anger was rising again. He drew a deep breath.

  Skylar’s troubled gaze was on the ceiling.

  “What?” he asked, reading her expression.

  “Nothing. I don’t want to take you in, though.”

  “Look, nothing bad will happen to anyone if you take me in. I’m going to find out what’s going on. It’s my job to protect the other shifters.”

  “You’re nothing like what they said you’d be like,” she murmured.

  “What? That I’m a man who turns into a dragon and not some soulless monster?” he challenged. “We police our own. We take care of our own.”

  She appeared torn, as if not wanting to believe him.

  “What do they do to you in your training?” he asked.

  She shrugged. “Teach us martial arts, history of the slayers, how to track shifters.”

  “Any sort of extended meditation where you’re out for hours and don’t recall what happened?”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Honey, I’ve been around long enough to have seen it all. You’ve been brainwashed, plain and simple,” he replied.

  “Whatever. Let’s go.” She turned and walked to the door, tugging at it.

  Chace watched. The cabin had freed her from her place hanging from the ceiling but wouldn’t let her out. At least it was listening to him about not freeing her.

  “There’s only one way down the mountain,” he reminded her.

  She stiffened.

  “Where we going?”

  Her back was to him, her fingers testing the doorknob. It didn’t open, and she dropped her hand, quiet for a moment. He almost saw her debating. He’d given her a way out with a hefty caveat.

  “Sonoita, Arizona. The Field is in the middle of the desert.” She turned as she spoke and leaned against the door.

  Chace grabbed his jacket. He ordered the cabin to take them to the new location and strode to the door, not expecting her to block his exit.

  “Ready when you are,” he said, pausing inches from her, close enough for her scent and warmth to derail his intentions. She gazed up at him, clear blue eyes troubled.

  “Promise me you won’t hurt anyone,” she said. “Unless it’s me. That’s okay. We’re supposed to be enemies.”

  Chace studied her. He restrained the impulse to touch her. She was uneasy but unmoving despite her fear.

  “I promise not to provoke anyone,” he replied carefully. “But if someone comes after me …” he trailed off.

  She looked away. “Okay. I guess that’s fair.”

  “You decide to trust a monster that turns people into fried chicken?”

  “Not much of a choice. Besides” she brightened “maybe the Field can do what I can’t and bring you under control before you turn people into fried chicken.”

  She started to turn, but he caught her arm.

  “I can’t take this shit,” he snapped. “If I was going to kill anyone, it’d be you, and I haven’t hurt one hair on your head. In fact, we fucked like we’ve been lovers for years. You can’t keep telling me this bullshit about me being the monster you think I am when you’ve seen proof of the opposite!”

  She stared at him for a moment, her
face flushing. For the first time since they’d met, there was anger in her eyes.

  “Maybe you should stop insisting that my entire reality is wrong, and yours is right,” she retorted. “I don’t know what to think about you, Chace, or what’s happening or why I keep having these dreams … but I can’t think that the only world I’ve ever known is just … fake!” She stopped, flustered.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, even more disturbed. She hid her turmoil well. He hadn’t considered that debunking her reality was as distressing to her as accusing him of eating people was irritating to him. “But don’t you want to know the truth? If not about me, then about you? Because I have a feeling they did more than train you at that place. I think they wiped your mind.”

  Skylar pulled away from him and yanked open the door. She walked out.

  Chace remained in place, torn between pushing her farther and leaving her alone. She knew something was wrong. Was this why she didn’t protest too much about taking him in? Did she think he might learn something she needed to know?

  “Where the hell are we?” she demanded from outside.

  Chace smiled and left the cabin. In the distance, the sun was peeking up over a set of purple-gray mountains. The flat southern desert between them and the mountains was littered with saguaros, mesquite and other varieties of desert cacti and flora.

  “Outside of Sonoita,” he replied.

  “We … your cabin …”

  “My magic controls the cabin and the bar,” he explained. “They go and do what I want.” Most of the time.

  “That isn’t in our training, either.” Her frustration was in her voice. “But you’re not a real shifter. You were turned into one.”

  “I am a real shifter. How do you know all shifters were born the way they are? Your training?”

  “You don’t have to be an asshole,” she muttered.

  “Oh, you’re here to kill me, and I’m the asshole?” He shook his head, beyond agitated by her. “If you don’t want me turning into an angry dragon right now, you might want to take my hand.”

  She turned at the ultimatum and studied him briefly before quickly crossing to him to take his extended hand. At once, his magic began to settle, this time responding faster to her than before.