He had been foolish to trust his assistant, to give him so much power. The idiot had apparently decided he deserved more than the commission on the sale of a multi-billion-dollar company. Though what he thought he would gain by his actions, Tarsuinn did not know.
Mark had revealed some of his intentions before he’d run out the door behind Ryc Dreugan. He’d said something about the women, though Tars did not know to which women he referred. He’d sneered a lot, and made some threats, then fled. Fled, no doubt, to act out a scene from a low-quality gangster movie, or some such nonsense. Tars had to accept the blame. Mark was his protégé. He’d learned greed from a master.
He meditated a few moments longer, trying to clear his mind and relax his body. It was difficult. His heart fought his head. It sought the familiar rage and yearning, but Tars finally knew that allowing them control over reason was not the way to end this. That had proven true too many times. He should have learned much, much earlier. Perhaps a thousand years earlier.
He sighed and rose. Without bothering to light the brazier, he circled the room, gathering his things. He didn’t know where he would go, or what would come of his sanity without the quest for Alexa’s heart. But he did know he would never return.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Alexa had circled the cabin six times and caught herself nodding three more when she finally heard the whoosh overhead. Cyrgyn uncloaked as he drifted to earth, then immediately shrank and transformed in the blink of an eye into the man she loved.
Before he’d finished turning toward her, Alexa was off the porch and in his face.
“You bastard,” she growled, following that with a roundhouse punch to his jaw. Ryc stumbled back and raised his hands, but she didn’t hit him again. “That’s enough,” she said. “But you have a lot to say to me.”
“That’s for sure.” Ryc winced as he shifted his jaw. “Good hit.” He motioned to the porch. “Can we sit there?”
“If we’re quiet.” Alexa led him to the step, shifting away when he sat too close.
“Where do we start?” he asked.
“Let’s begin with why. Why did you lie to me?”
Ryc sighed. Of course she’d start with the hard one. He looked at her and it was all he could do not to take her into his arms, plunder her mouth, plunge into her and forget all that had happened today. But he’d known this moment would come, and he had to face the consequences.
“Cyrgyn and I are two halves of a whole,” he explained. “About a hundred years ago I figured out I could shift back to my human form.”
“How?” Alexa interrupted.
Ryc shook his head. “I’m not sure. I hadn’t been with you for a century, and I was getting desperate, knowing this would be our last chance. I think I just wished it, and concentrated hard enough to make it happen. It only lasted a minute, but I was so happy to have something to focus on I spent entire weeks working on it, not eating or sleeping until I was ready to drop.”
He shifted his legs. God, he was tired. He’d had a surge of adrenaline in that last fight with Tarsuinn, but even warding off the ineffective attack by the weasely assistant had taken a toll.
“There are problems with the transformation,” he continued. “I don’t have much control and can’t maintain it forever. Sometimes for a few hours, sometimes for a few days.”
“Which explains why you had to leave the church so suddenly, yet you could fly cross-country with me without switching back.”
“Right. The more energy I expend, especially doing magic, the quicker I switch back.”
“But why the lies?” She sounded wearier than she did angry, so maybe she’d accept his explanation. His very strange, very incomplete, explanation.
“As Ryc, I can remember everything. Every event—every minute, really, of Cyrgyn’s life, as well as my own. But when I’m Cyrgyn, I can’t consciously remember what happened when I was Ryc. So it’s like being two separate entities.”
“But Cyrgyn knows things he had to have learned as you.”
“I communicated with him. Long messages on paper left in his cave. Or hangar.” She didn’t return his attempt at a smile. “He can read, of course, and somehow retain some knowledge that I gain, but as far as my consciousness goes, he’s locked out.”
Alexa bounced her clenched fists off her knees, frustration evident in her gritted teeth and furrowed brow. “But that doesn’t explain why you didn’t tell me. Either of you.”
Ryc sucked in a deep breath, then blew it out. She wasn’t going to like his answer, he knew that without trying. He cringed as he said, “Cyrgyn thought it was better that way.”
“Cyrgyn is you!” she shouted immediately.
“Not to you. You knew him as the dragon in your previous lives. I didn’t have the ability to hold this form for long until the past five years or so, so he came to you in reality and in dreams. Then he thought it would confuse the issue, or diffuse the urgency, if you knew about me.”
Alexa’s hair flew as she shook her head vigorously. “Why couldn’t you just override what Cyrgyn thought? For that matter, why do you talk as if you didn’t agree but had to comply, anyway?”
How to explain something Ryc didn’t understand, himself? “I tried, once. The pain was horrific and I didn’t try again.” He rubbed his jaw where she’d hit him. “It’s the curse. The creature has control. I don’t know if my ability to manifest is due to dragon mythology or if it’s part of the curse. It’s your last life. The purpose of my existence could be to intensify the pain for both of us.” It surged in him then, new and strong…and physical. What was happening?
“Cyrgyn hates me,” he went on. “He hates that I am partly responsible for his existence. And I hate him. I hate that he took over my life and kept us apart. We really are not the same, Alexa.”
“I guess that makes a weird kind of sense,” she admitted. The last remnants of anger had left her posture and her voice. She sat hunched over, her arms folded tightly against her. “So, last night…”
Ryc tugged her hand free and waited until she looked at him. “That was both of us,” he said. “All of me. I held nothing back.”
“And?”
He rested his forehead against hers. “And I—”
She jerked back from him and looked toward the cabin. An instant later the door opened and he became aware of a high-pitched tone hardly more than a ringing in his ears.
Rock reached out and grabbed their sleeves. “Get in here. We’ve got a trigger.”
They scrambled inside and shut the door.
“Can you tell where?” Alexa asked, pushing her hair back as she studied a box with a flashing red light.
“No,” Rock said and would have continued, but Ryc interrupted.
“It’s Tarsuinn. He’s behind the cabin, but he’ll be at the door in a second. He’s not hostile.”
The others looked at Alexa, who nodded thoughtfully. “I can feel him, too,” she said. “He’s putting out signals. I don’t think they’re deceptive.”
She turned with Ryc to face the door. It opened, and Tarsuinn stood framed in silhouette. A wave of déjà vu, loaded with all the emotions he’d ever felt for the man, flattened Ryc. Love, hate, anger, dismay, respect—all had been held at bay by adrenaline when he’d stormed the tower. Now, they held him immobile.
Alexa had no such problem. Anger flowed from her as she strode forward. “What are you doing here?” she demanded, stopping a foot from Tarsuinn.
“I have a lot to say, and not much time in which to say it.” He gently closed the door behind him. A cut on his cheek, about six inches long, still glistened. Ryc had done that. Or rather, Cyrgyn had, when the mage had regained consciousness and tried to throw the dragon across the room.
Alexa eyed the mage, knowing they couldn’t trust him. She’d given him a chance before, and he’d reverted to type quite quickly. “You have thirty seconds,” she said. Tars smiled sadly.
“I wish that were true.” Before he could say anything more, t
he alarm sounded again and the red light flashed around them.
Kurt crossed the room and picked up the mage by his lapels. “What’s going on?”
“It is not me,” Tars said, unperturbed. “At least, not directly. I am afraid I have created a monster.” He glanced at Ryc, then at Alexa. “Another one.”
A second later the door banged inward and Tars’ assistant pushed two women into the room ahead of him. Ahead of him and his machine gun.
Chapter Thirty
“An Uzi, Mark?” Tars curled his lip. “Didn’t you learn some finesse under my employ?”
Mark’s hair was mussed and his trousers ripped, but he looked calm and focused. He held the gun comfortably and aimed it directly at Victoria Chambers. That didn’t put Aunt Ethel out of danger. His other hand held an automatic pistol to the older woman’s head.
Alexa was still assessing the situation and planning her move when Peter rushed forward, rage contorting his face. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” He stopped when Mark poked Victoria with the Uzi. The young woman cringed, but despite a few scratches and an air of exhaustion, she seemed unharmed.
“Tars forgot a little detail,” Mark taunted. “When he came in here to offer his ‘surrender,’ he didn’t tell you about his little backup plan, did he? Didn’t tell you how his devoted little sister did his bidding and kidnapped poor Aunt Ethel to use as insurance.” He scratched his scalp with the pistol and turned to Tars. “Or was it bait?”
In the single second the gun wasn’t on her, Ethel scooted around Alexa and behind the burly men lined up across the room. Alexa allowed some of her tension to decrease now that her aunt wasn’t in immediate danger. The older woman wasn’t stupid.
Mark, however, was. He had no idea what he was up against. An FBI agent, a private operative, an angry fiancé/nephew, and three mages. He didn’t have a chance.
She had no clue, however, what he was doing or why. She wanted to find out before they drilled him into the dirt, so she tried to figure out how to hold her friends back. Before she thought of anything, she felt a wall of energy divide the room. Judging by the looks on Rock’s and Kurt’s faces, they were aware of it as well. They didn’t like it, but they didn’t show it. Much. She looked at Ryc, who nodded once.
Mark didn’t look trigger happy, so Alexa moved closer to Tars to address the important issue. “What did he mean, surrender?”
Tars studied his employee. “Apparently, he knows more than I thought he did. But now is not the time.” He looked down at her, and the depth of the sadness in his eyes shocked her. He was giving up.
As much as she wanted to pursue that, though, she had to admit he was right. First things first. “And my family?”
“I did speak with Victoria,” he admitted, glancing apologetically at his sister, then with harder eyes back at Alexa. “After you manipulated her into alerting me of your arrival, I encouraged her to come here to assist me. I believe bringing Ethel was her own idea.”
Victoria’s demeanor suddenly changed. She straightened and tossed her hair over her shoulder. “Well, I do get one occasionally.” She glared at them all, her gaze not softening even when she looked at Peter. “I’m sick of always being on the outside,” she said. “Brave Alexa with her exotic job, sharing secrets with her brother, my fiancé,” she spat, “who can’t be bothered to tell me about his stupid dreams. I have to learn about them by eavesdropping.”
Alexa frowned and tried to recall where they’d been when they’d discussed Peter’s dreams. “How did you hear us?” Alexa said. “You weren’t outside.” And she’d been careful to steer Peter away from the hotel room.
“You think my darling, wonderful, generous brother is the only one with special talents? You weren’t that quiet. Not to me.”
Peter tried to placate her, but she looked at him so venomously he fell back two steps. “Victoria, I love you.”
“Yeah, well, I can’t take that to the bank, can I? And you want to design playground equipment for the poor.” Derision dripped from every word. Mark didn’t bother to hold her back when she started moving toward Peter. He was avidly watching the drama.
Victoria bumped into the barrier Ryc had built. She put up a hand and felt it, then closed her fist and pounded it once, twice, against the wall. “Take this down!” She hit it again, then kicked it. “Now! Goddammit!” She threw herself into the attack, hitting and kicking and growling, her hair flying around her face. The stillness of the other eight people in the room made her frenzied attack look ridiculous.
Alexa couldn’t hold back a snort of laughter. She put her hand up over her mouth and tried to turn it into a cough, but it was too late. Her gaze met Ryc’s. His mouth twitched, and when the second snort went through her nose, he broke. They dissolved into laughter that made Victoria pause.
But not for long. She gave an enraged yell and spun around, yanking the Uzi from Mark’s hand and swinging it up. Before she could fix on anyone, however, the gun flew from her hands and out the door. Alexa wasn’t sure whether Ryc’s, Tarsuinn’s, or her own magic had gotten to it first.
Not that it mattered. Victoria overcame her surprise and leaped at her nearest unprotected target. Fury gave her speed, and she managed to yank out a hunk of Alexa’s hair.
“Ooowwww!” Furious, Alexa reached for the woman, then hesitated just a moment to glance at her brother. This was his fiancée, and she didn’t want to be responsible for ruining his life.
Someone had apparently taught Victoria self-defense, because in that second of hesitation she stomped on Alexa’s foot, then tried to jab her in the eye. Alexa caught her by the wrist and jerked her arm up behind her.
Peter was standing tensely behind the barrier, quivering like a horse at the gate. Ryc lowered it and he charged out, coming straight at Victoria.
Alexa didn’t release the woman, even as Peter’s hands closed over her shoulders and Victoria relaxed under them.
“Vic,” Peter said. “I can’t believe you’d do this. Why?”
“I told you why.” Her voice was still frenzied, now with an edge of desperation that superseded the anger. “You would have ruined everything.”
“Ruined what?” Peter shook Victoria a little. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Didn’t you ever notice, Peter? My brother, your sister. Parental favorites. Even after they left home, they just became legends.” Alexa didn’t have to work to hear the bitterness in Victoria’s voice. “Alexa the spy, out saving the world. Tars Suinn, youngest billionaire ever, building an empire but sharing none of it.”
“I shared,” Tars broke in quietly. “You know I shared.”
“Pittance,” she spat. Then her tone turned pleading, and she laid her free hand on Peter’s chest. “I wanted to marry you, get something precious to both of them. You’re precious to Alexa, and money is precious to Tars.” She shoved Peter, hard, and broke his grip. Alexa tightened hers. “We almost had it all, then you had to go all noble and run off to save Alexa from the demons chasing her.” She laughed. “Turns out the demon was my brother!”
Alexa watched Peter thinking, and knew the instant he realized he didn’t need this woman. He stepped back, shaking his head. “You’re such a cliché, Vic. I thought you had more imagination than that.” His eyes met Alexa’s, amusement covering the hurt. “Dad’s gonna love being right.”
Victoria twisted against Alexa’s hold. “No, sweetheart,” Alexa told her, “you’re going to sit right here until we straighten the rest of this out.” She grabbed a chair and pushed her down into it, then bound her with energy so she couldn’t move. Victoria struggled against her invisible bonds, her movements more and more panicky, until Tars stepped over and laid his hand on her cheek.
“I’m sorry for the part I’ve played in this, Victoria. But you must relax. You can’t get out of there.”
The woman shrieked, but settled down and actually shrank back when Aunt Ethel stepped forward. “I’ll cover her,” she told Alexa, who
kissed her on the cheek and smiled.
“Thanks.”
“And don’t you go thinking she kidnapped me. I insisted on coming. She would have figured out a way to get rid of me if the brain trust over here hadn’t gotten in her way.” She gestured to Mark, who had been watching the goings on as avidly as the rest. Unlike the professionals, however, he’d let his attention waver and the gun had drooped to his side. When Aunt Ethel jerked her head at him he jumped, as if he’d forgotten he wasn’t a simple spectator. He began to lift the gun, but a moment’s indecision choosing his target was a moment too long.
Tars took two strides across the floor, then lifted Mark into the air without touching him. Alexa grabbed the gun—with her hand, not magic—and tossed it out to join its mate in the yard.
Defenseless, Mark was no longer a tough guy. He begged Tars’ forgiveness until the mage shut him up with a flick of his hand. Mark clutched at his throat, working his silent mouth until, realizing he wasn’t going to force his voice back, he stopped moving to hang in the air.
“I do not understand,” Tars said to the man. “What have I done that has so wronged you?”
“Don’t act all fatherly toward me all of a sudden.” Mark looked momentarily surprised at the sound of his voice but recovered quickly. “I was always a lackey, and you acted like I was a pest when I wasn’t doing your dirty work. I deserve something for taking that for so many years.”
Alexa saw the edges of Tars’ mouth curl upward just a bit.
“You are receiving quite a bit of money for the sale of my companies. That isn’t enough?”
Victoria’s screech had them all turning. “You sold Dragonsoul Enterprises? All of it? You bastard!” She ranted on until Tars pointed at her and her mouth snapped shut.
Soul of the Dragon Page 25
