Annoyed, she barked, “The car can’t fly,” and flipped her hand in the direction of the traffic. Rock gestured to an upcoming exit. Alexa jerked the wheel to the right and roared up the shoulder, took the exit, and squealed her way around the corner and back on the highway in the other direction.
Rock wisely didn’t move until they reached Dulles.
Alexa returned the car to the rental kiosk and yanked her bag out of the trunk. She pretended he wasn’t following her to the terminal. The annoyance she’d shown him was only surface oil, coating the fear underneath. Fear that he’d be caught in the crossfire. She didn’t want to be responsible for anyone getting hurt. Rock would say he was responsible and that he could take care of himself. She knew because that’s what she would say. But he was more than a boss to her, he was a dear friend, and his stubborn skepticism could be his downfall.
Rock caught her arm before she walked into the terminal. “Where are you going?”
“Home,” she said shortly.
“Seattle?”
“No.” Her tone implied that was a stupid guess. “If I don’t want to endanger you, do you think I’d want to endanger my family?”
“I want to go with you.”
“Rock, I don’t need you with me.”
Another voice responded. “She’s got me.”
Alexa whirled, surprised at the relief she felt when she heard Ryc. More surprised when Davis released her arm and backed up a step.
“You’ve got her back?” Her boss’s voice was deceptively casual, but Ryc seemed to understand the undercurrent.
“I’ll protect her with my life,” he assured him.
Alexa made a sound of disgust. “And I’ll protect his, okay? I’ve got a plane to catch.” She started to stomp off, then turned back. Chances were good she’d never see Rock Davis again. She gave him a quick hug, then a kiss on the cheek. “Stay safe,” she said, their usual parting words when starting a mission.
“Stay safe.” He kissed her forehead and handed her off to Ryc.
Alexa shook off Ryc’s hand when they got through the door. There was surprisingly little delay getting through security and to the gate, and boarding began almost immediately. Alexa waited until they were on the plane to tell Ryc—quietly—about Tars’ second attack.
His jaw looked like granite, he held it so tight. “I should not have left you.”
You’re right, Alexa found herself thinking, and was appalled at the sentiment. She didn’t need Ryc. “You had other commitments, I guess.”
“Not—” He shook his head. “Something like that.”
“So what’s with the fireballs? Doesn’t he have anything else?”
Ryc shrugged. “I haven’t been in battle with him. I don’t know what he can do.”
“Well, one thing his tentative attacks showed is that we’re pretty evenly matched. I have the advantage, even, unless he can find some way to block the water or prevent the burn of it.”
“I suggest we rest on this flight,” Ryc said. “We may not get much chance from here on out.”
Alexa closed her eyes but couldn’t doze off until she gave in to her desire and let her head fall onto his shoulder. He put his arm around her, and she shoved aside the guilt, let the sense of belonging take over, and slept.
* * *
“We don’t have any supplies in the hangar,” Alexa said when they’d landed. “I need to shop.”
Ryc squinted at the sky. “I can shop with you, but I’ll have to leave when you go back to the hangar.”
Now that she’d reconciled herself to having Ryc around, his mysteriousness was starting to annoy her. “Where the hell do you have to go?”
They’d reached the Saturn but he put his hand over the key in hers, then slipped his arm around her waist. “I just have something to get out of the way so I can stick with you.”
“A woman?” Alexa wanted to slap herself for her stupidity. But Ryc’s eyes darkened to amber. He cupped her cheek in his hand.
“Alexa, there has never been another woman for me.”
She couldn’t break eye contact. Her heart actually stopped beating for a second, so intense and sincere was his declaration.
She brushed his hand off her face and stalked around the car. “Don’t tell me stuff like that!” She unlocked the car, then jerked open the door and dropped in, her breath sounding too much like sobs. “You can’t have me, Ryc, you know that. Why can’t we shut this off?”
Her right hand was shaking and she couldn’t get the key into the ignition. She inhaled and took control, then slid the key in and started the car with a roar. “If we don’t die over the next few days, I’ll be starting a new life with the man I was meant to be with. As much as it feels like that man is you, it isn’t.”
Ryc felt the pain like a poker shoved through his heart. He knew she spoke the truth from her perspective. Hell, it could be the complete truth, for all he knew. For a moment, he hated Cyrgyn with years of pent-up desperation and anger.
But Cyrgyn wasn’t the true target. Tarsuinn had better watch his back.
Chapter Eighteen
Ryc stayed on his guard while they were in the grocery store. It was a prime location for an attack. He could imagine flying produce and gallons of milk, and every time they turned the corner of an aisle he anticipated a fireball. Tarsuinn knew they were in St. Paul, of that he had no doubt. And he’d developed his psychic connection over the past thirty-three years, so he could zero in on Alexa wherever she was.
Which meant the hanger was no longer safe, he realized, unless Cyrgyn was there. Shit. He had to modify his plans.
The attack didn’t come until they were leaving the store, burdened with half a dozen bags and less alert after an hour of anticipation. Alexa, always fast moving, had gotten ahead of Ryc as they started to cross the parking lot. Ryc heard a motor rev and turned in that direction, suddenly horrifyingly certain Alexa was about to be run down. But it was a diversion, he realized almost immediately when he spotted the empty car idling in the fire zone. He turned back to warn Alexa and saw two shopping carts barreling down the aisle, heading straight for her. He couldn’t believe their speed. There was no way she could get out of the way of them both, no way he could get to her and knock her out of the way. They’d both be run down then.
“Alexa!” he yelled, dropping his bags and running toward her, knowing it was futile. He watched her head turn toward the carts, saw her eyes widen. He imagined the impact, the snap of her head as she flew backward, the horrid thump when she hit the pavement.
It didn’t happen. Alexa leapt into the air, more than high enough to clear the carts. The bags fell out of her hands as she leapt, dropping neatly into the carts and not spilling an item. It was a beautiful move, or would have been if she hadn’t caught her foot on a cart handle on her way down. Instead of landing on her feet, she landed face down on the macadam.
Ryc ran to Alexa, but she was already up. “You’ve been practicing,” he commented.
“Not enough,” she replied, wincing as she unbent her knee. Ryc searched the parking lot and the walkway of the shopping center. Tarsuinn could be anywhere. He could even be on the roof. He looked up and caught a glimpse of the mage before he pulled back out of view.
Alexa had bent to look under cars. “Where is the bastard?” she ground out.
Ryc grabbed her arm and started running for the far end of the building. “Don’t complain. You wanted something new, didn’t you?” They ran faster. “He’s on the roof.”
They rounded the building. Flat cinderblock. Ryc cursed. The asshole would be gone by the time they got up there.
The turned the corner to the back of the building.
“Shit,” Ryc cursed. No ladder. But Alexa was past him, leaping onto a car, then the hood of a tractor trailer. By the time she reached the top of the trailer, Ryc was there to pull her up.
Next to the truck was a storeroom entryway with a sloping roof. They scrambled onto the slippery green surface, then on all
fours to the rooftop. Alexa kept up, despite her shorter legs and the injuries she’d no doubt suffered.
They cleared the parapet and crouched, scanning the flat roof. It was a fairly new building and there wasn’t anything for Tarsuinn to hide behind, but they saw no sign of the mage.
They ran to the far end and looked down onto the parking lot. Nothing.
“The man’s a damn coward,” Alexa grumbled. Then she winced and looked at her hands. “And this is a kiddie boo-boo.”
Ryc gently brushed gravel away from the scrapes. “Shall I kiss it and make it better?”
She yanked her hands away. “No, I think that would be a bad idea.” But her palms tingled. “I wonder if my groceries are still down there.”
They made their way back to the parking lot and retrieved the supplies. As they stowed them in the car, Alexa wondered aloud why Tars was using these ineffective attacks.
“He doesn’t want to kill you,” Ryc said. “Just keep you off guard. He’s testing you. I’m sure he has no more idea how to make you his than you do to make him reverse the curse.”
Alexa couldn’t argue with that. But she didn’t like the idea of weeks of hit-and-run slapfests. Something else had to be done.
She had just turned the Saturn into the entrance that would take them to the hangar when her personal cell phone rang.
“Hello?”
“Alexa. It’s Peter.”
“Hey, I was going to call you!” She allowed the pang of guilt because she hadn’t thought about her family in days. “How are Dad and Aunt Ethel?”
“Fine. Aunt Ethel’s back to normal and Dad’s hand is almost healed. The scarring is smooth and doesn’t get in the way. But that’s not why I called.”
Something in his tone gave her an “uh-oh” prickle up her spine. “Why did you call, then?”
“I’m in St. Paul. I want you to tell me where you are.”
Shit. Alexa braked in front of the hangar and stared at the gigantic door. Cyrgyn would be in there. She couldn’t hide him. And she couldn’t bring Peter back here. He was marrying her enemy’s sister, and despite trusting her brother, she couldn’t risk that her location would get back to the mage. So far, somehow, he hadn’t found them. Or at least, he hadn’t attacked them. She realized she’d been naïve in believing their location was safe. If Tars had found her in Washington and in the grocery store, he could certainly find her in the hangar.
“Sis?”
Her mind racing, Alexa agreed to pick him up at the airport. She hung up and gave Ryc a quick rundown of the situation.
“Can you please bring the groceries in and put them away? Then give Cyrgyn a sit rep so he doesn’t feel like we’re holding out on him. I’ve got to get rid of Peter.”
Ryc agreed, looking almost relieved. Alexa didn’t have time to wonder why. She watched until he entered the hangar, then turned the car and headed back the way she’d come.
She was starting to hate the damn airport.
She hadn’t asked Peter if he was alone. He’d implied it, but she knew better than to make assumptions. If Victoria was with him, she definitely had to get them on a return plane.
Peter was standing outside the terminal when she pulled up. He got in, tossing his one small bag into the backseat, almost before she’d stopped moving.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded, obeying a traffic cop’s signal to move out.
“I came to find out what the hell is going on and help you get out of it.”
The uh-oh got stronger. “Out of what?” she asked casually.
“Whatever you’re in.” She could feel him studying her. “Dad is beside himself thinking you’re in trouble. Aunt Ethel keeps fretting about the new house they’re building and the chance of it getting blown up, too.”
“So the insurance company came through, huh?” She wanted to change the subject, get Peter off the path he was following.
“That’s irrelevant. You haven’t called in weeks, you acted more mysterious than usual when we did see you—I’m telling you, Alexa, I’m not leaving until I know you’re safe. Until I know we’re all safe.”
Frightened by his determination, Alexa pulled into the first parking lot on the right. “What makes you think the house has anything to do with me?”
“Damn it, Alexa, it was just like Mom!”
Stunned by her brother’s uncharacteristic roar, she didn’t at first realize what he’d said. Icy cold now, she squeezed the words out. “What was just like Mom?”
Peter looked incredulous. “Do you really not remember? Her death. The fires. Your skirt.”
An image flared in front of Alexa. A young Tarsuinn in the backyard, as she’d remembered him weeks earlier when she’d been examining the scalded tree. In the image, a small ball of fire rushed past her to ignite a tiny pile of leaves that had fallen from the tree. The fire passed too close to her skirt and it caught fire.
“I remember the skirt…”
Peter cut her off. “Mom ran out yelling. Not screaming, because she never panicked at anything. I heard her and looked out the window. All I saw was a burst of fire. Then she was on the ground.”
Alexa remembered. She remembered Tarsuinn’s smirk of arrogance at his abilities. She remembered the downblast of air from Cyrgyn’s wings that had put out the flames. The mage’s anger when he realized the dragon was near. Her mother, running toward them, ready to save her daughter. Her mother had paused and looked up when she felt the odd movement of air. Cyrgyn had begun to circle back and Alexa had no doubt now that he would have roasted Tarsuinn if he could.
But she remembered the dragon rearing back when he saw her mother nearing them. She remembered the determination on Tarsuinn’s face when he released another stream of energy. The horror when he realized what he’d done. She saw her mother take the impact in the chest. But it hadn’t been a fireball, not like Tarsuinn had been tossing around lately. This blast—the blast that killed her mother—had been pure energy, unchanged, and it had pierced her, probably stopping her heart immediately.
Pain seared Alexa, so strong she couldn’t isolate it. She couldn’t breathe. Her hand scrabbled at the door handle and she fought to get out of the car. The door popped open and she heaved herself outside, gulping in smog-laden air. She took several steps away from the car, as if it was the little Saturn holding her breath in.
Finally, the pressure eased, and the pain throbbed rather than burned. No wonder she’d blocked out her mother’s death.
It was all her fault.
She heard Peter behind her and whirled, but for once she didn’t have a witty barb to toss out.
“Alexa,” her brother said gently, holding out his arms. It didn’t take much for her to accept his hug. She couldn’t remember a time when she’d ever needed him to comfort her. She guessed there had to be a first for everything.
“It’s okay,” he shushed, though she wasn’t crying. The pain had gathered into a ball of anger, of hatred. The problem was knowing who should be the target.
“He didn’t mean to do it,” she murmured.
“Who?” Peter released her and stepped back.
Alexa almost told him. Then, with a jolt, she was released from her daze and realized the consequences of revealing Tars’ identity to her brother.
“Do you really love Victoria?” she asked him instead, and knew the answer instantly. The transformation of his expression could not be faked. She’d seen him dreamy, excited, infatuated—this surpassed everything.
“Alexa, she’s my soulmate.”
The words added another point of pain to her heart, but it was one she could not nurse. “Then be prepared, because you two are in for a tough time.”
She strode back to the car.
“Will you stop stalking away?” Peter ran after her and climbed back in as she did. “What’s going on?”
“I’ll tell you when we get there. And Peter—” She took her eyes off the road to emphasize her point. “I’m trusting you. From here on out, you
could be the death of me.”
She expected him to laugh at her melodrama, but he seemed to believe her.
She stopped the car outside the hangar. Cyrgyn was probably inside, so she had to tell Peter out here. She didn’t want the dragon to overhear her. Shutting off the engine and undoing her seatbelt let her stall for a few extra seconds. Then she inhaled deeply, let it out, and braced herself.
“Peter…Victoria’s brother killed our mother.”
“No.”
“Yes.” She grabbed his arm before he could mimic her and burst out of the vehicle. “Tars was the one who killed her. And he’s the one who firebombed the house.”
Peter swallowed, and his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down his long neck. He looked like he wanted to protest again, but something shifted behind his eyes, and Alexa knew he was examining his memories and recognizing the truth. “Is Victoria in danger? Are we?”
She didn’t want to say yes and panic him, but she didn’t want to say no and be wrong.
She did know, however, how they would be safe. There were far too many lives involved now, and she could not let any of them be sacrificed. Not even for Cyrgyn.
“I’m entrusting you with the biggest secret of my life,” she said, and explained about the curse and Tarsuinn and Cyrgyn. Peter asked questions, eventually getting the entire story out of her. She had no justification for keeping it secret anymore. Not when he knew so much already.
“So this guy has been trying to ‘get’ you for centuries and is starting to get desperate.”
“Pretty much.”
“Again, how much danger are we in?”
Alexa sighed. “I don’t know, Peter. I doubt Tars would hurt his sister. I’m less certain that he wouldn’t hurt someone I loved to pressure me.”
Peter’s intensity suddenly changed to fury. “You think you know how to end this.”
“I have to give myself to him,” she admitted.
“You can’t! Then Mom will have died for nothing.”
Anguish washed over her and she couldn’t fight the tears anymore. “I have to!” She got out of the car and slammed the door. She didn’t want to argue with him about it, damn it! She just wanted it done.
Soul of the Dragon Page 20
