Destiny Kills (9 page)

“Simple. I’ll go to the bathroom.”

I took a sip of coffee, and raised my gaze to his again. The heat of hunting had faded from his eyes, but not the amusement. It leant a warmth to the cold, bright depths. “So there’s a window in the bathroom?”

“A small one, but I should be able to get through it.”

“I don’t know,” I said, skimming my gaze down his body and keeping my voice dry. “Your ego is pretty damn large.”

He laughed. It was such a warm and carefree sound that it dragged a smile to my lips and made my heart do an odd little dance.

“You could be right about that,” he said. “Maybe I should send you through it instead.”

“Sorry, I know squat about sneaking.”

“Considering you’ve escaped from what I presume is a very secure research center, I find that extremely hard to believe.”

“That was a mix of luck and good planning more than any ability to sneak, believe me.”

The old woman brought in the plates of food. Trae gave her a smile and waited until she’d recovered from the power of it enough to head back into the kitchen before he asked, “Luck how?”

I snagged a piece of bacon from the nearest plate and munched on it meditatively. “Part of the research center was destroyed by fire. That took down the security system, as well as distracted a lot of the guards, which enabled us to get out.”

Of course, there was a whole lot more to it than that. More violence, more pain, more death. Escape hadn’t been easy, just like remaining free hadn’t been.

“Am I right to assume the fires were dragon-lit?” Trae asked.

“Actually, they weren’t. They kept the facility so cold that the air dragons couldn’t use their fires.”

He raised his eyebrows. “That sort of cold can be a killer.”

“So they discovered.” I hesitated, and grinned. “Of course, when it comes to kids and temper tantrums, the cold isn’t really a restriction. Trust me, a few things got singed over the years.”

“But never by Egan?”

I shook my head. “But we were being drugged. The kids weren’t.”

“So when you and Egan escaped, why didn’t you take the kids with you?”

“We couldn’t.” But I’d wanted to. Oh, how I’d wanted to. I’d fought with Egan for days about it—until Jace had stepped in. Jace—the fifteen-year-old who was so much older and wiser than his years would suggest—had calmly told me that it just wasn’t practical, and that he’d look after everyone until we got back with help. “The kids were in a separate section than us, and there were common rooms and research rooms between us. We couldn’t get to them without going through a whole lot of scientists and guards.”

“So how did you and Egan escape?”

“We attacked one of the feeders as he was coming into the cell, then ran for the kitchen area. Egan didn’t have his flame, thanks to the cold, but there were plenty of lighters laying about. We put them to good use to blow up the kitchens.”

“Wasn’t that a little risky?”

Brief memories of flames and heat, combined with the metal ping of bullets against walls, rose like ghosts through my mind.

I closed my eyes against them, but there was no fighting it. The flames meant to free us had almost killed us both. It was Egan who had saved us—saved me. Despite the cold, he’d tamed the flames the same way I could tame the sea. In the end, we’d come out singed but alive.

The same could not be said about sections of the research center. Or the scientists within it.

“Destiny?”

I blinked, then tore off a chunk of toast to dip into the egg yolk. “The kitchen was a fair distance from where the kids were being held. It wasn’t that much of a risk.”

“I meant for you and Egan.”

“Well, yeah, but we had to do something to divert enough attention so that we could escape.”

He considered me for a moment, his blue eyes somber, as if guessing there was more to my glib statement. “How did they find you in San Lucas? How did they track us here?”

“I don’t know.”

“Why didn’t they kill you when they killed Egan?”

“Some of them were definitely trying.” And I had the scar on my head to prove it. “But I think I’m still alive because I’m the only female of breeding age they have. Mom’s too old, and Carli’s too young.”

He didn’t say anything, just studied me for a minute before flicking his gaze to the black car. “Looks like those men are getting antsy.”

Trepidation ran down my spine, but I resisted the temptation to turn around. It would only let them know I knew about them, and that could prove dangerous. “Meaning they’re likely to come in here?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.” His gaze met mine. Distant. Fiery. The dragon was getting ready to fight. “You know these people, not me.”

“I might know them, but that doesn’t mean I can predict everything they might do.” I picked up my coffee again to warm suddenly cold fingers. “All I know is that they prefer not to have witnesses, so we may be safe in here for a while. But the threat of witnesses won’t stop them for long.”

He didn’t say anything, just picked up his coffee and stared out the window for several minutes. Tension crackled through the air—evidence that he was not as calm as he appeared.

“Okay, one of them is on the phone,” he said, as he put his coffee down. His blue gaze came to mine, sharp with excitement. “I’ll head to the bathroom now. If you see any of them walking past the gas pumps, get up and head to the counter to pay our bill, then get into the bathroom. I’ll get you out from there.” He hesitated, and a grin twitched his lips. “Feel free to use some of the cash you stole to pay the bill, too.”

I raised my eyebrow. “I never said I stole the cash. I only admitted to stealing back the ring. Maybe you’re a thief who loses track of what he has in his pocket.”

“Sweetheart, I never lose track of
anything
that’s mine.” He rose, drawing my gaze up the long, lean length of him. “Remember that, if you intend on stealing anything more important than cash or credit cards.”

I raised an eyebrow. “And what else have you got that I’d be interested in?”

He grinned. “I’m sure we could think of something.”

“I’m sure you could,” I said, voice dry. Just as I was sure I’d love it. Whatever “it” was.

He left the booth. I sipped my coffee and watched his retreat. Egan and I had never shared easy banter like that. Had never teased or touched or done any of those fun things most lovers do. He’d been too uncomfortable with the whole situation, too aware of the white coats and the cameras. Thank God they’d never installed microphones, otherwise he’d have never come near me. As it was, we’d only ever made love at night, with the lights off, when he had the illusion of some degree of privacy.

It wasn’t exactly the most normal introduction to sex and sensuality a girl could have had.

The old woman wandered over with the coffeepot. “Want a top-up, love?”

“Thanks.” I held out my cup, and pushed Trae’s forward. He might not get to drink it, because we’d probably have to run once he deflated the tires, but it was better to keep up appearances for our watchers.

“You two down here for a vacation?” the woman asked, as she poured coffee into Trae’s cup.

“Just passing through.” I shrugged. “Wish we could stay longer, though. It’s pretty.”

“Well, not so much around these parts. It’s pretty old and dumpy here.”

I smiled, remembering my distaste as we’d approached the old building. And yet, once inside, it had proved to be warm, homey, and friendly. Just went to show, the old saying about the book and its cover was correct.

“But the food is as good as any of those uptown places.”

She beamed. “Can I get you anything else?”

A life. Or maybe a leash for my hormones.
I smiled and shook my head. “Just the bill. We’ll have to go once my partner gets out of the bathroom.”

“If he wanted to sneak out to let the air out of the tires of that car, he could have just asked to slip out the back. Has to be uncomfortable, a man his size squeezing through the bathroom window.”

I just about choked on my coffee. I coughed as the hot liquid slid down the wrong way, but somehow managed to say, “What?”

There was a mischievous twinkle in the old girl’s eyes. “Frank saw him sneaking around. Pretty good, he reckons, and Frank would know. He had a bit of a way-ward past, when we were kids.” She paused. “So is it husband trouble, or the law?”

“Husband,” I said, probably much too quickly. Not that she was likely to believe the truth, anyway. “We’ve been separated for over a year, but he just won’t accept it. Has me followed everywhere.”

She nodded. “Some men are like that. What you need to do is give him a little of his own medicine.”

“Who can be bothered?”

She grimaced, and patted me on the shoulder. “If you feel the need to slip out, just come through the kitchen and pay. Frank will let you out the back door.”

“I appreciate it.”

She nodded and walked back to the counter. I sipped my coffee and watched the wind roll an empty Coke bottle across the road. Part of me longed to turn around and see just what those men in the black car were doing, but I dared not let them know anything might be wrong. So I drank, and ate the pancakes, and generally tried to ignore the tension creeping through my limbs.

After a while, the woman came back with the check. “He’s just slipping back in now, in case you’re wondering.”

“Thanks,” I said, with a smile.

As she walked back toward the kitchen, I glanced at the check and got out the money, adding an extremely generous tip in the process. Hell, it wasn’t my money anyway, and maybe she’d be more inclined to think kindly about us if things got nasty.

Trae slipped into the booth a few seconds later, and wrapped his hands around his coffee. “You know, for a woman who doesn’t like pancakes, you sure as hell made a good job of finishing them off.”

“And for a thief, you sure as hell did a lousy job of sneaking about.”

He frowned. “And why would you think that? Those men didn’t spot me.”

“No, but the old girl and her cook did. I told them we were sneaking away from my hubby’s trackers.”

“Not very original.”

“When lying, it pays to stick to the classics. They tend to be more believable.”

“And you know this from experience?”

“Hey,
you
were caught.”

He grimaced. “I misjudged the size of my shoulders and that window, but I was hoping they wouldn’t notice above the usual kitchen noise.”

“Frank apparently has a past and eagle eyes. The old girl said we could slip out the back if we wanted to.”

“As long as they’re watching us, they’re not noticing the tires. That’s what we want right now. You ready to go?”

I gulped down the rest of my coffee and rose. The itching at the back of my neck got stronger, and as we made our way to the door, I stole a glance at the car.

One man was out and leaning on the door, and his expression, even from this distance, looked somewhat agitated.

“Act normal,” Trae repeated, as if reading my thoughts. “And keep hoping they won’t do anything here, out in the open.”

He pushed the diner’s front door wide and ushered me through. The wind swirled around us, lifting the hair from the nape of my neck and running cold fingers down my spine. I shivered and crossed my arms, trying to keep warm against the sudden chill.

Trae touched my back as he moved up beside me, placing his body between me and those men. His light touch sent warmth skittering across my skin, and though it did little to battle the internal chill, I felt a tad more secure.

But not safe. Not with those men so close.

“Has he gotten back into the car yet?” I murmured, my gaze on Trae’s stolen black car.

“No. He’s still standing behind the open door. The driver is still on the phone.”

“Something is going on.”

“It won’t matter in a couple of seconds.”

In a couple of seconds I’d be a nervous wreck. God, how I wanted to run to his car and get the hell away from them. The urge to do just that was so great my muscles were practically twitching.

As we neared Trae’s car, his touch left me, and the chill returned twofold. He pressed the auto unlock. The lights flashed, and orange light skittered across the road, looking almost bloody against the dark asphalt.

A tremor ran down my spine. I grasped the handle, eager to get out of here.

But even as I began opening the car door, movement caught my eye. I turned and saw the man standing behind the open door of the scientist’s car raise his arms and rest them on the top of the door frame.

Saw the glint of metal in his hands.

Realized I’d been wrong, so wrong, in my earlier estimation of how far they might go out in the open, in front of witnesses.

I heard the incongruous popping sound.

I swore and flung open the door. Something slammed into my shoulder, spinning me around, smashing my head against the top of the car.

Then I was falling . . .

Chapter Six

I
hit the roadside with a grunt, and for a moment, everything went black. But I could hear voices, and shouting. I could feel anger. Thick, thick anger. Then there was this weird whooshing sound, and heat filled the morning, burning bright. The taint of burning rubber and paint began to touch the air.

I forced my eyes open. Saw flames, leaping high. Flames that were coming from Trae, who stood behind our car, and flames that roared from the fingers of the dark-haired man standing in front of the other car. The two fiery lances met in the middle of the parking lot and erupted upward.

Then the car behind the hunter exploded, sending him and the men who were cowering behind it flying. Trae appeared and dragged me upright, shoving me hastily into his car. Pain swirled, and I made a sound that was half groan, half curse.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Trae’s voice was raw, and filled with the anger I’d felt moments ago. “But we have to get out of here before they come back. How’s that shoulder?”

“Hurts,” I said, voice sounding distant even to my own ears.

Something pressed against it. “Hold that. Don’t let go.”

When I didn’t move, he grabbed my good hand and pressed it against the cloth. “Hold it, Des. Hold it tight, and just stay awake.”

“I’ll try.”

I did try. I just didn’t succeed.

I have no idea how long I was out, but waking was a long, painful process.

My shoulder felt like a throbbing furnace, and there were a thousand tiny gnomes armed with sharp little axes working away at the inside of my head.

I shifted, trying to ease both the aches, but that only managed to make them both worse. A groan escaped my lips, and the sound seemed to echo.

The hollowness reminded me of the cells that had been a part of my life for so many years, and my heart began to race. Part of me wanted to open my eyes and find out where the hell I was. But the cowardly part was afraid of what might be revealed. Of what it might mean.

Because there was no sound of the car. No feeling that there was anyone or anything near. Just an unearthly, unending hush that had the hairs along my arms standing on end.

I breathed deep. Dustiness filled the air, along with a sense of age and regret—as if wherever I lay had once been cared for but now lay abandoned.

At least the air wasn’t filled with the scent of antiseptic cleanliness, which surely had to mean I wasn’t caught. Wasn’t with
them
again.

Reluctantly, I forced my eyes open. Afternoon sunlight streamed into the room from the ceiling-high windows that lined the end wall directly opposite. The brightness sliced through the middle of the room but left the corners to shadows and imagination. But not even the shadows could hide the neglected state of the room. Ornate wallpaper hung in fading strips down the walls, and what paint remained on the high ceilings and fancy cornices was so cracked and yellowed that it was hard to say what color it might have been originally. I shifted to get a better view of the rest of the room, and discovered the hard way that my skin had decided to cling to whatever it was that I lay on. It peeled away with an odd sort of sucking sound and almost immediately began to sting and itch.

The reason, I discovered, as I looked around at the high back of the old sofa on which I lay, was plastic. The whole sofa was covered in it. And the T-shirt I was wearing had ridden up at the back, exposing my butt and spine.

There was another plastic-covered chair stuck in the far corner but little else in the way of furniture. Just a tired-looking fireplace that added to the cold and forlorn air.

“Trae?” My voice came out a croak. I cleared my throat, and the sound echoed softly. “Trae?”

No answer came. I wondered if I were alone. Wondered if he’d run out on me again.

I forced myself upright—too fast, I quickly discovered, as the ax-wielding gnomes got to work with a vengeance. Sweat popped out across my forehead and a hiss escaped my lips. I closed my eyes, waiting until everything stopped spinning, then slowly, carefully, got to my feet.

My arm and shoulder throbbed in protest, and suddenly felt heavy. I looked down. Bandages were poking out from the frayed end of an old gray T-shirt. And though I doubted that Trae had actually abandoned me again, at least if he had, he’d patched me up first and given me a clean shirt.

I scratched my back with my good hand and glanced around the room again, spotting a door at the far end. I took a deep breath, then began a careful walk toward the door. The caution paid off, because the axwielding gnomes made no further protest.

A wide, marble tile floor lay beyond the grand old room in which I’d woken. Stairs curved upward about halfway down the hall to my left, and an ornate entrance foyer and doorway lay to my right. Beyond the stairs there were more doors, and the smell of coffee was suddenly, tantalizingly close.

I followed my nose and eventually found a kitchen that seemed big enough to fit a regular-sized house in. Trae wasn’t there, but he had been. His tangy scent clung to the air, as tempting and rich as the aroma of the coffee.

A timeworn percolator sat on a bench at the far end of the kitchen, and beside it, a sheet of paper held down by a coffee cup.

I walked across and poured myself a drink, then tore open the sugar packets Trae had left near the percolator. Once I’d fortified myself with a sip of the strong, sweet liquid, I finally read the note.

Gone to get some supplies,
it said.
Be careful and stay put.
Trae’s elegant—almost extravagant—signature followed, as well as the time. I looked around for a clock, but there was none to be found. Still, given the way the sun streamed in through the kitchen window, it couldn’t be much past four. Which meant he hadn’t been gone long when I’d woken.

But how long had I been out? I had no idea, but that wasn’t exactly an unusual state for me lately. I absently scratched my leg as I glanced at the kitchen window and studied the long sweep of wildness that had obviously once been a lovingly manicured garden. Was this another of his previously scouted locations? Or had my getting shot forced him to find suitable accommodations fast?

If it was the latter, he certainly had a knack for finding high-class, abandoned properties. There can’t have been many places around like this. Good land was getting scarcer and scarcer these days—especially prized plots near lakes or the sea.

Places like my mother’s ancestral home in Loch Ness. Her family had lived there for hundreds of years, using the loch’s deep, dark waters as not only a safe place to give birth, but a sort of “winter home” when the storms made the sea a dangerous place to be.

Not all sea dragons did this, of course. Most simply migrated to calmer, warmer waters during the winter months. But Mom’s lands on the loch had been her pride and joy—a place where she and her family could be themselves without worry or concern. And the good thing was, even if a dragon form was occasionally spotted, the legend of the monster covered it amply enough.

But then the scientists had come. Taking her and taking her lands, all without a quibble from the uncles and aunts I could barely remember now. Even Dad didn’t discuss them, though I have vague memories of him arguing with a man whose hair was as blue as the rich Pacific waters. Dad hadn’t been happy with him, and I think it was because they refused to help Mom.

Sea dragons didn’t live in large family groups, as air dragons seemed to, but that didn’t mean there was no contact, no closeness. I’d seen my uncles and my aunts many times in the brief few years that we had lived in peace on the loch’s shore. But then Mom was taken, Dad had fled with me—at Mom’s insistence, apparently—and the visits had stopped. Except for that one visit from the man with the blue hair.

I drank my coffee and stared blindly out the window, seeing nothing, and trying not to think about anything, just letting the coffee and the sunshine work its magic on my cold, itchy body. By the time I reached the bottom of the cup, I felt a little more “human” and a lot less shaky. I poured myself another, and decided to undertake a little exploration.

The remaining rooms on the first floor consisted of a huge butler’s pantry, a dining room, what looked to be a study, and, off that, a library. There was also a huge bathroom that looked to have become home to generations of seabirds, thanks to several smashed windows. A fresh wind trailed in, whisking away the clinging, musty aroma of bird. I moved on. The sweeping stairs—which I took extremely slowly because the gnomes with the axes weren’t finished with me yet, no matter what I might have thought—led up to another living area, a huge bathroom and five large bedrooms. From the master bedroom, the sea was visible, a broad sweep of white-capped blue that had my soul singing. I could live here, I thought, as I opened the window and breathed the sharp, salty scent. It rushed deep into my lungs, and flushed both strength and longing through my body.

My gaze ran back from the sea, following a barely visible path from the cliff tops to the property’s fence line. I could get there if I wanted to. If I needed to.

And I would need to, soon.

The sound of a car drawing closer had me leaning farther out the window. But I couldn’t see the driveway or the property’s main gate, so I walked as quickly as my aching head would allow into the living room and peered out the windows there. An old gray car had stopped near the gate, and a figure in a black shirt and dark jeans was hunkered down near one gate post, doing God knows what. After a moment, he rose, and the sunlight ran through his hair, making it gleam like finely spun gold.

He walked back to the car, but paused before getting in, his gaze sweeping the house and coming to rest on my window. He smiled and gave a half wave, then got back into the car. I checked my own wave, and tried to stop grinning.

For God’s sake, I didn’t even
know
this man. I should be acting with a bit of decorum—
and
caution—not like some giddy schoolgirl in the flush of a first teenage crush.

Not that I’d actually
had
any teenage crushes. I’d been far too aware of my differences—and the need for caution—to ever get too attracted to anyone at my school. Especially when I was the only dragon—sea or air—among them.

I turned away from the window and headed back downstairs. Yet the minute Trae walked in the back door carrying a fistful of plastic bags in one hand and a laptop in the other, my silly grin broke loose and my pulse rate went into overdrive.

“Hey, darlin’, nice to see you up and about so soon.” He dumped everything on the counter, then looked me up and down somewhat critically. “You’re still looking a bit peaked, though.”

The concern in his voice and eyes sent a delicious tingle scampering across my skin. “Getting shot will do that to a girl. Where are we?”

“In a big old abandoned house that I just happen to own.”

I raised an eyebrow. “And how would a thief be able to afford this place? It must be worth a fortune, even in its current condition.”

“I told you, I’m a very good thief.” There was a glint in his eyes that was all cheek. “And it’s just perfect for the brood I intend to have one day.”

“If you can find a woman to put up with you long enough to produce a brood,” I said wryly.

“Oh, I’ll find her.” His gaze caught mine, holding it, and suddenly there was something very serious deep in those bright depths. Something that made me want to dance. “And when I do, she won’t
want
to get away from me. Trust me on that.”

That
had almost sounded like a warning. “I think the over-inflated ego I mentioned earlier is rearing its ugly head again.”

He didn’t bother denying it, simply shoved several plastic bags my way. “These are for you.”

“Ooh, presents.” I peeked inside. Jeans, T-shirts, sweaters, and underclothing. I raised my eyebrows and met his bright gaze. “That’s very generous of you.”

His sudden smile was so warm, so mischievous, heat sparked low down and my legs started trembling. Damn, but that was one sexy smile.

“I’m sure we can figure out a way for you to pay me back.”

“I’m sure you could,” I said dryly, trying to ignore hormones that were up for repaying in kind right here and now. “But I’m not sure I’m up to that sort of payment just yet.”

“One of the drawbacks of being shot, I suppose,” he said, and began pulling food and bottles of drink out of the bags. “You hungry?”

“I’d better be,” I said, watching the growing mountain of cakes, sandwich stuff, and nibbles. “You’ve got enough here to feed an army.”

“The thrill of a close escape always makes me hungry.” He shrugged. “And we can take whatever is left over with us when we leave.”

His words had a sobering effect. “Just how close was our escape?”

“Very.” He walked over to the percolator and poured himself a coffee. “It’s only thanks to the fact that their car blew up that we weren’t caught.”

“I remember you and the other dragon having a flame battle. That’ll give the old couple in the diner something to talk about for weeks.”

“Undoubtedly.” He didn’t look all that concerned, and I suppose he had no reason to. After all, who in their right mind would actually believe the old couple’s tale? The scientist and the other man wouldn’t back it up, after all. Not when they wanted to keep their project a secret.