Stroke of Fire

by Kira Nyte

  Cade opened the door of the gallery. Saralyn followed Briella inside. Cade made a final check of their surroundings, looking up and down the street before finally coming inside and closing the door.

  “Ms. Everett! Oh, I certainly hope you’re excited for your debut,” Mr. Harper greeted, his brisk strides bringing him from his office to the front of the gallery in moments. He beamed as he held out his hand. Briella shook it, her excitement boiling up and melting the tension away.

  “I’ve had a wonderful response to the invitations I mailed out to my VIP clients,” he continued. “The phone has been ringing for the last week with potential clients asking for more information about you and your work. I do believe tonight is going to mark the beginning of something grand for us.”

  “I certainly hope so,” Briella said, her jaw aching from how ridiculously big her smile had grown. “Mr. Harper, I’d like to introduce you to my mother, Saralyn Everett.”

  A flush colored Mr. Harper’s cheeks as he held out a hand to shake her mother’s. It took a bout of willpower not to roll her eyes. Her mother was a stunner, and she’d seen that look in a man’s eyes far more times than she cared to acknowledge.

  “Mrs. Everett. A pleasure. Your daughter has a very unique talent, and I’m certain she is going to succeed in reaching her dreams.” Mr. Harper held Saralyn’s hand a shade longer than necessary. Until his gaze shifted over Briella’s head. His hands dropped to his suit jacket and he nervously adjusted the buttons. She guessed he’d finally noticed Cade. “Well, then. We should be receiving guests within a half hour. Can I offer you a drink? Refreshments? Oh, Ms. Everett, that piece you added to the collection earlier this week? I found the best wall to display such magnificent art.”

  “May I see it?” Briella asked.

  “Of course. Right this way.”

  Briella and her mother followed Mr. Harper down one side of the room until they reached the end of the divider wall. There were three separate walls at the back of the gallery, and the middle one hosted her most prized painting. The placement was such that it was as if the entire gallery funneled eyes to this very place, this painting.

  It was perfect.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to offer this one for purchase? I can assure you it will go quickly, and for a very high price,” Mr. Harper said.

  Briella shook her head. “No. This one is from my personal collection. It’ll come home with me, but I want guests to see more than shadows.”

  Staring at the painting made her heart hurt and her mind yearn for the nearness of Syn. She was lost in the fiery eyes, that mysterious glower, and wanted nothing more than to run back to Taryn’s house and fall into Syn’s arms.

  She cleared her throat, shaking herself free of the strange, submissive thoughts.

  He’s done a job on you.

  There was no doubting that. Syn Terravon had claimed her, body, soul, and heart. She no longer felt herself unless he was nearby. Not only did he wreak havoc on her hormones, he filled the gaps inside her spirit, gaps that tore open the first night they met.

  The night that inspired the painting she couldn’t tear her eyes from.

  “Dear?”

  Saralyn’s quiet concern and gentle touch on her shoulder grounded her and returned her to the gallery. Briella cleared her throat and smiled at her mother, not missing Mr. Harper’s piqued interest.

  How long had the painted Syn entranced her?

  Briella held the strap of her bag. “If you have a glass of water, Mr. Harper, that would be great.”

  Anything to clear the sandpaper from her mouth and cool her insanely hot libido.

  * * *

  The second closest place to heaven was seeing her dreams come to life.

  The first place would always be with Syn.

  Briella lost count of the number of people who approached her about her work. Names melted into one another. Handshakes and faces were a blur. Even the dizzying mental conversations she tried to separate in her head forced her to tune out of her survival mechanism to bask in this small taste of success. Her never-empty glass of champagne certainly helped ease her nerves.

  She spotted Cade at different points at the front of the gallery throughout most of the evening. Her father and Taryn joined the crowd about a half hour after the event began. Taryn, ever charming and quite the ladies man, engaged the single women in conversation as his sharp eyes kept watch for anyone suspicious. Emma, Adrienne, and Mindy arrived an hour late, and once Emma showed up, Taryn took a place by her side.

  Mark’s absence came as no surprise, but it still hurt that he’d thrown away their friendship because she didn’t see him “that way.”

  “Six of your paintings have been sold, Ms. Everett,” Mr. Harper said in a hushed tone as he sidled up to her. The gleam of success shone in his eyes. “And I’m certain you’d like to know one of your pieces is the subject of a bidding war between three of my loyal clients.”

  Briella’s eyes widened. “A bidding war? How is that even possible?”

  Mr. Harper winked. “Anything is possible. Are you enjoying yourself?”

  “Exceptionally,” she said. And she was. Except for the missing component needed to complete her evening.

  Forty-five minutes before the end of the event, and Syn was nowhere to be seen. Taryn and her father both assured her he would arrive shortly. She relieved her father of her crossover bag and slipped away to the bathroom, locking the door behind her. A glance at her watch made her anxiety jump. The only way she wanted this night to end was with Syn beside her.

  And if it took opening the box holding his dragonstone to accomplish that, then so be it. He was never late, too organized and careful to toss her debut to the wind. He didn’t respond to the few telepathic inquiries she sent, which left her more nervous, fearing that something had happened to him.

  Briella wasted no time fitting the key into the keyhole and popping open the latch.

  When she lifted the lid, shock flooded her. Her eyes widened and her lips parted on a gasp.

  She had no idea what to expect when she laid eyes on the dragonstone, but it certainly wasn’t the sheer, stunning magnificence of the object resting in a bed of satin. The oblong, asymmetrical jewel swirled with obsidian black and shimmering gold laced with deep ruby red.

  Heat and a faint current of energy tingled along the finger she drew over the strangely smooth surface. The textures she saw were all encased within the jewel—this was certainly no stone. The most unusual stroke of warmth curled around her body and wrapped her in a sense of security. A trick of the mind, most probably, but comforting nonetheless.

  “Where are you?” she asked the stone in a hushed voice. “Why aren’t you here?”

  Syn had said the dragon could see and hear through the stone, but he never said whether he would answer her back. After a few minutes of silence, she secured the stone in its luxurious bed, placed both box and key in her bag, and returned to the event.

  Her father gave her a suspicious look when she handed her bag to him. “Is everything okay, Belle?”

  Briella forced a grin and nodded. “Of course. I should keep mingling. There isn’t much time left.”

  She made another round of the gallery, accepting compliments and giving thanks, but failing to engage in conversations. Her heart broke more with every minute that passed. Would Syn miss this, knowing how important tonight was for her? How much she wanted him to share in her success?

  Fighting to keep her increasingly sullen mood at bay, she returned to the painting of the man in the shadows. The man who so many clients inquired about. The offers she’d received for Syn’s painting were more than she could have ever dreamed, and yet she would never part with the essence of her first encounter with the man who shattered her world and convinced her to build a better one. With him.

  Her shoulders sagged.

  A sigh escaped her lips as her throat began to ache with sorrow.

  She lost herself in the fiery gaze of his painted eyes
and the reminder of the warmth of his arms. Her rock, her foundation. The earth beneath her feet and the air in her lungs.

  An arm snaked around her waist. Warm lips pressed to her ear.

  “I would never miss this for the world, my love.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The instant Briella opened the box, his dragon roared within his mind. He hated himself for staying hidden for most of the event, but they’d decided the Baroqueth would not attempt an attack if he was near.

  Gabe, Emery, and Tajan stationed themselves on nearby rooftops and obscured their presence with the help of amulets commissioned from Taryn’s witch friend, Amelia. The magic was true, if temporary. If Syn didn’t have his dragon vision to aid him, he would have traced them in circles before locating their positions.

  Cade, Taryn and Gio were inside the gallery with Briella and Saralyn, of course.

  Syn was at the gallery ahead of everyone else. He observed Harper for almost an hour before Briella arrived, watching his every move to make sure there was no sign of Baroqueth influence over the man. He was a pro when it came to cloaking his presence, and the shadows in the corners of the gallery helped him.

  That’s where he remained when Cade arrived with the women, while the guests arrived, and as his lifemate’s anxiety over his absence mounted. An essence in the shadows, watching the crowd, using his dragon sight to detect suspicious activity. It was a battle to keep himself away from his lifemate when she beamed with a glowing light that faded as the night wore on. Not to mention the fact she was lethal to his logic in that dress.

  You had to go and open that box.

  The hunger was painful. The separation was excruciating, like an icy cold saw hacked straight down his middle. He’d tried to prepare himself for the day she would open the box, but when she touched his jewel, that sweet, innocent caress…

  Syn tamped down his dragon and fought a war to gain control of himself. The smoke in his throat made him choke and the knot in his chest almost caused him to double over.

  Oh shit.

  Briella circled the gallery until she came to stand in front of the painting that was her first impression of him. He couldn’t hold back any longer. Escaping his secluded corner, he moved smoothly to stand beside his clan leader.

  “Let me know if you need me,” Syn murmured. Without waiting for Cade to respond, he bee-lined straight for the woman whose shoulders slumped in disappointment at his perceived absence. He slipped his arm around her waist, wanting to do so much more, and dipped his lips to her ear. “I would never miss this for the world, my love.”

  Briella started to twist to face him, but he tightened his arm around her waist, fingers biting into her hip as the fierce evidence of his arousal pressed into her lower back. Heat flushed over her skin and her breath hitched. Her body temperature shot up, as did her heart rate.

  He kissed the sensitive patch of skin beneath her ear, delighting in the way she tensed.

  “You opened my box, love.”

  Her lips pressed together. “You’re very late. I was worried.”

  Syn chuckled, lifting his head to rest his chin on the top of her head. He wrapped his other arm around her waist and beat back the dragon, the need, and the hunger that wrenched his gut. Her sweet scent of shampoo and floral perfume, and the underlying scent of the woman he had become so familiar with made it near impossible to not drag her from the gallery, debut be damned.

  “As I said, I would never miss this. I know how much it means to you.”

  “Where were you?”

  Syn stared into the eyes of his dragon. Eyes Briella had painted. “I’ve been here. Watching you stun the guests with your artistic brilliance. On top of that, no words can possibly describe how beautiful you look tonight.” She settled her hands over his. “I watched you walk in tonight and sweep over the floor for the last hour and half.”

  “And you haven’t come over to say hello.”

  “Part of the plan, love. But I do have a surprise for you once all of this is over.”

  Briella laughed quietly. “A surprise, huh?” When she tried to look up at him this time, he loosened his arms. “You’re just full of surprises.”

  He fingered one of the barrettes in her hair. The diamonds sparkled. “Mmm.” He drew his finger down her cheek and over her lips before he kissed her temple. “Sometimes.”

  “He did make it!” Emma’s accusatory tone turned them both around to find all three of Briella’s female friends coming straight for them. Taryn looked highly amused as he followed the charging women. Emma stepped up to Syn, brows arched and hands on her hips. “You had better have a very good excuse for coming so late.”

  “Oh, I think he’s forgiven,” Adrienne said, her gaze shamelessly perusing Syn from head to toe. “It took him some time to look that good.”

  “What a way to make a good first impression on Brie’s boyfriend,” Mindy scolded her. “Not that I can argue. Girl? Where have you been hiding this fine specimen?”

  Syn somehow dodged the many prying questions from Briella’s curious friends, despite their attempts to ask essentially the same question numerous ways. To say he was thrilled he had only a half hour left of stepping carefully was an understatement. Besides, he wanted to deliver his surprise to his lovely woman.

  The event went by without the arrival of unwanted guests and ended as a huge success for Briella’s debut. More than half of her paintings sold, with additional work sold on conditionals through the end of the following week.

  The Everetts appeared at ease with their daughter’s triumph.

  Syn?

  He didn’t like the fact that not one single Baroqueth tried to step foot through the door of the gallery. Not when the woman at the voodoo shop had the information to ambush Briella. Cade voiced the same feeling. It left a sharp hook in the pit of Syn’s stomach. He was not one for surprises. The last thing he needed was a surprise of the deadly sort popping up over dinner.

  After a congratulatory discussion with Mr. Harper, Syn led Briella from the gallery and toward Bourbon Street. He and Cade had discussed performing a sweep of the Big Easy for any sign of Baroqueth laying down plans for an attack.

  “What is this surprise of yours?” Briella asked, her eyes glowing.

  “I was under the impression a surprise is a surprise because you don’t know what it is until it happens,” Syn teased, giving her hand a squeeze. “By the way, you are stunning in that dress. I’m not sure I can handle you and Saralyn going shopping without me.”

  “Just think of all the surprises my mother and I can come up with.”

  Syn chuckled. “You’ll be the death of centuries of control.”

  Briella got a half-step in front of him, pivoted, and pressed flush against him. “Darling man of mine, I think that has died a very pleasant death, if what I felt earlier in the gallery had anything to do with your control.”

  Syn growled deep in his chest. He grabbed her by the waist, making sure she knew just how out-of-control he felt, and lowered his forehead to hers. “Be careful how you stoke this fire, sweet.”

  “I have no fear of your fire.”

  “I’ll make sure you remember that later.”

  One quick tip of her head and Briella caught his bottom lip with her teeth and tugged gently. The motion burned him up. “I’ll be looking forward to it.”

  * * *

  Briella was flying higher than ever. A successful debut, more than half of her paintings sold to eager clients, and now she was on the arm of her man. She couldn’t ask for more than these perfect moments where the music of Bourbon Street bars wafted through the warm night air, the clip-clop of a horse-drawn carriage passing by, and the smells of Cajun cooking as the restaurants reeled with business.

  “I couldn’t ask for a better night,” she said aloud, her smile growing. She wrapped her free arm around Syn’s arm and rested her head against his biceps. The scent of his subtle cologne mixed perfectly with the underlying fire scent she had come to love.
That, and the heat that came off his skin, the hardness of his body, that dangerous look in his rugged face, his mouth…

  He was bone-meltingly gorgeous in his black pants, dress shoes, and dark gray button-down shirt. His hair had been combed back from his face, but their walk had caused strands to fall over his forehead again.

  “God, I love you.”

  Syn stopped abruptly and turned to her. Briella blinked. This natural high had some very serious side-effects, diarrhea of the mouth being one of them.

  “Uh…” She turned her head down, heat searing her cheeks. Syn caught her chin and brought her gaze back to his. Those warm eyes flashed with fire, fire solely for her.

  His mouth lifted in one of those sexy half-grins that won her over every single time. “Do you, Briella?”

  She pressed her lips together.

  “Because I love you, too, my sweet. Love you more than you will ever know.” His fingers slipped over her cheek until he held the side of her face in his rough palm. “From the beginning.”

  “Syn,” she murmured, throwing her arms around his neck and pressing a hard kiss to his lips. “Yes, I love you. A love that makes my heart hurt when you’re not with me.”

  “Mmm, kiss me like this when we get home.”

  Briella tore away and narrowed her gaze. “Why don’t we go home now?”

  “Because I have dinner planned for you. And a surprise, remember?”

  “Dinner isn’t the surprise?”

  Syn chuckled as he glided his thumb along her bottom lip. “No, love. It’s not.”

  “Well, damn.”

  When they arrived at the restaurant, Briella gaped at the long line out the door and the crowd of patrons clogging the sidewalk. Syn held tight to her hand as he made a path through people to get into the restaurant.

  “We’re not eating until tomorrow night, you realize that, right?” Briella asked.