Serpent's Kiss: A Dragonfire Novel (16 page)

“What?” Rox turned on the light. “T never loved anyone except himself…”

“He did. Long before we knew him. And he chose not to ever love again because of what happened.” Niall was pulling on his jeans, Thorolf’s bitterness affecting his own mood. “I don’t blame him.”

“Because she died?”

“Because his father somehow made that happen. He thought she was a distraction.”

“What? What about defending humans?”

“I guess his dad thought something else was more important.” Niall tugged on a T-shirt then grabbed a hoodie. “I have to go to Erik. I can’t tell him this in old-speak or over the phone. He’ll know what to do next. He might even remember something related to it.”

“You think you’re going alone?”

Niall turned to see that Rox had crossed her arms over her chest. She looked disheveled, annoyed and sexy as hell. He sat on the edge of the bed beside her, controlling his impatience with an effort. She had to know the rest of it. “I felt a firestorm ignite today. It was Thorolf’s.”

“So he isn’t missing.”

“Not any more.”

“Then this will all tie together,” Rox said, then rolled her eyes. “And knowing T, he’s going to need all the help he can get.”

There was that. Niall pulled out his phone to see how soon they could get a flight to Chicago, while Rox went to awaken the boys and pack

Booking a flight proved to be harder than he expected. The relentless snow had become yet another blizzard, and O’Hare was closed. In fact, most of the airports in the Midwest were closed, with the eastern seaboard already canceling flights. Getting seats for a party of four was almost impossible, even with his connections at the airlines. The boys were three and tall for their age, too big to sit in laps.

If they moved fast, though, he could get them on a flight to Los Angeles, then a connection to Bangkok.

“What?” Rox said as she grabbed a backpack for carry-on.

He summarized the situation for her, then shrugged. “So, either I fly us to Chicago, or we take commercial flights straight through to Bangkok.”

“You can’t fly us all the way to Bangkok,” Rox said, as decisive as usual. “You’re going to need your strength to fight and bad weather will hamper you as much as a commercial airline.” She straightened to smile at him. “And really, I’d rather go right to T, where the action is.”

“With the storm, this might be our only chance to get a flight.”

“Two minutes,” Rox said, holding up her fingers. “And we are out of here.”

“You can be packed that fast?”

“I can be ready that fast.” She grinned at him. “There’s this tour operator who taught me that they sell toothpaste and underwear all over the world. I’ll grab my favorite tattoo guns and we’ll just go. We’ll buy whatever else we need after we arrive.”

Niall grinned and booked the flight, assured one more time that his mate was the perfect woman for him. Then he went to get the boys dressed.

They had to make that flight.

* * *

In Traverse City, Sara Keegan was updating the online inventory for her bookstore. There were days when being the partner of a dragon shape shifter wasn’t any different from being any other mother of three small boys.

She had one eye on the clock, because six-year-old Garrett had to be picked up after school to be taken to his Little League game. It would be the first game of his first season and he was so excited that he hadn’t slept the night before. Three-year-old Ewan had a play date this afternoon with the son of one of Sara’s part-time employees, so she’d pick him up first.

She rocked a cradle with one foot as she worked, ensuring that two-year-old Thierry kept sleeping until she was done. She’d perfected the art of rocking this cradle with her foot, regardless of what she was doing, sleep having become a precious resource in her life in the past few years. He’d be awake later, but she’d take what she could get.

Her partner, Quinn—the Smith of the
Pyr
and an artisan blacksmith—was working longer hours than usual, preparing for a busy season of art shows. He was trying to build his online business, since it was becoming increasingly complicated to travel to shows with their growing family. He was going to pick her up at four and gather them all for Garrett’s game. There would be another set of hands for the evening, much to Sara’s relief. There was a container of homemade spaghetti sauce thawing in the fridge at home, because pasta and tomato sauce was a reliable hit with her boys.

It was quick, too. She just had one more box of new titles to add to the inventory, then she’d get Thierry ready to go.

She admired the cover on the next book, then opened it to the copyright page. Instead of typing in the title, author and publication date, though, she found herself typing something else.

“A union of five will tip the scale

When the moon aligns in Dragon’s Tail;

This
Pyr
alliance can defeat the scheme

And cheat the
Slayer
of his dream.

Fulfilling a pledge long been made

Will put darkness in its grave.

Know
Pyr
and
Slayer
can share one curse:

A vulnerability wrought of their birth.

Keep the pledge and defeat the foe,

So the Dragon’s Tail brings triumph not woe.”

Sara stared at the words on the screen, knowing they hadn’t come from her mind. Once again, she was being a conduit for messages to the
Pyr
. It was a bit spooky how her role as Seer manifested itself, but she knew well enough to take notes when she could. She copied the text and pasted it into another empty document, then printed it out. When she looked back at the screen, the field on her inventory form was as blank as if she hadn’t typed anything.

She shivered, then glanced around the bookstore, knowing her Aunt Magda would have no troubles believing in the turn Sara’s life had taken after inheriting her New Age book shop. Her stomach twisted with the nausea that was increasingly familiar.

Trust her to get morning sickness in the afternoon.

Sara was lifting the sheet out of the printer when Quinn came into the shop. He was early and she knew that combined with the message could only mean one thing.

Another firestorm.

“Whose?” she asked, handing him the printed sheet of paper.

“I’m not sure. It’s far away.” He frowned at the prophecy, then met her gaze. Quinn was quiet and intense, fiercely protective of her and their sons. She’d learned to read the varying levels of his silence and sensed that he was agitated.

Probably about this firestorm.

Probably about them going to it. He was always torn between helping his fellow
Pyr
and exposing his own family to danger. A firestorm attracted
Slayers
and the
Pyr
in question often needed assistance in defending his mate, but taking his loved ones into the proximity of
Slayers
and dragonfights never appealed to Quinn

If he didn’t know already, she’d have to tell him.

“It was like automatic writing.” Sara flexed her fingers, trying to coax his smile. “Kind of interesting, actually. It’s never been like that before.”

Quinn flicked her a very intent look, then sat on the edge of her desk. Thierry was stirring, but not quite awake yet.

They had about thirty seconds, in Sara’s view. She opened her mouth to tell Quinn that she was a few weeks along, but Quinn beat her to it.

“Are you pregnant?” he asked softly.

She smiled, wanting him to know that she was pleased. “I can’t figure out how it keeps happening,” she teased. His eyes turned a deeper hue of sapphire, his gaze locking on her in the way that made her shiver with desire.

“Maybe because I find you irresistible,” he murmured, giving her a kiss that would have been more satisfying if it had been longer.

“Maybe the problem is that the feeling’s mutual,” she replied. “Maybe we should do something about that.”

“Maybe not.” His eyes glittered and he kissed her again, more slowly this time. Sara felt that old heat begin to simmer, the one that been lit by the firestorm and never extinguished. When he lifted his head, Quinn surveyed her with a lazy satisfaction that always made her think of his dragon powers. “Unless you think otherwise.”

Sara shook her head, then found herself as breathless and shaken as she always was after Quinn’s kisses. “No, this suits me just fine, actually.” She smiled at him. “Although I might draw the line after five sons.”

“Fair enough,” Quinn agreed. “It’s up to you.” He perched on the edge of her desk to read the message once more. Sara put her hand on his thigh, liking both its muscled strength and how he covered her hand with the warmth of his own. He frowned slightly, then shook his head. “We’re not going to this firestorm then,” he said. “I’ll tell Erik about this prophecy right away, though.”

“Old-speak?” Sara asked.

“I’m thinking email,” Quinn replied, giving her a wink as he pulled out his phone. There was a shimmer of blue-green light between the bookshelves at the back of the store.

Sara caught her breath, but Quinn had already moved to stand between the light and his family. She saw the telltale shimmer of blue that indicated he was on the cusp of change.

Then Marco, the Sleeper of the
Pyr
and the one with the greatest connection to darkfire, stepped out of the shadow. “I’ll take care of it,” he said quietly as he plucked the sheet of paper from Quinn’s hand.

Before either of them could reply, Marco smiled, the darkfire glittered, and they were alone in the shop again.

They had time to exchange a glance before Thierry awakened.

* * *

Chandra followed the light of the firestorm, amazed by how far Thorolf had traveled. At least he was safe in this place. She’d never seen anyone else within Myth, other than the ghosts and the visions they summoned. It had always been a place of solitude for her, just her and Snow, until she’d brought Thorolf along.

Which was strange, now that she thought about it. There were so many mythical entities. This space should have been crowded. Maybe they each had their own personal sphere, the layers of the realm of Myth divided from each other with a neatness that wasn’t echoed in the world of men.

Chandra shouldn’t have been surprised at Thorolf’s destination, that he’d found his way back into the stories of his boyhood. She’d never been to this part of Myth, although she’d visited the real place, and wondered if she was venturing into his corner of the realm.

If so, she was glad she was being permitted to do so.

Maybe the firestorm was responsible for that.

The wind was icy and the mountains high in the world he had once known. She’d always liked the pine forests of the north and the clear blue of the lakes and fjords. Snow flew behind her, silent and watchful. Chandra walked with one hand held out before herself, the firestorm’s sparks brightening with every step. The shape of the land reminded her of the old stories, of Thor and his hammer, of Loki the wolf, of the Jormungand lurking for the end days. She remembered that the Vanir had been defeated by the Aesir, that she and Freyr and Njord were only hostages in Asgard.

She wondered how the loyalties would fall when it all ended.

It was snowing higher in the mountains, their peaks obscured by flying white, and she thought of the three endless winters that were to come before the end of the world.

Fimbulvetr
.

When the silver sparks were leaping from her fingertips with blinding light, Chandra knew she was close to Thorolf. She was in the midst of a cedar grove, one so sheltered and silent that it felt outside of time. There was no wind, the stillness of the space feeling expectant.

As if all of Myth knew she was going to take a chance.

As if the world held its breath in anticipation.

It wasn’t uncertainty that made Chandra’s own heart pound, or even a fear of the unknown. She realized she was filled with an excitement and anticipation herself, and one that wasn’t tinged with any fear at all.

She wanted to know more about being with a man.

No, she wanted to know more about being with Thorolf.

When the lake appeared in a clearing ahead of her, Chandra smiled in recognition of the perfect spot. The lake was round and dark, as if it had no bottom at all. Steam rose from its surface and she knew without touching the water that it would be warm. There were volcanic vents in these mountains, vents that heated water in certain pools. The snow fell thickly all around her, melting on contact with the surface of the water. She straightened and turned at the sound of approaching footsteps, her pulse fluttering.

The firestorm’s radiance told her who it had to be. Snow flew into the cedar forest and seated herself on a limb, silent and watchful as always.

Chandra watched until she saw a man’s silhouette in the trees, her mouth dry. Thorolf strode toward her, that first glimpse of him making her heart skip. In either dragon or human form, he stole her breath away. He marched through the forest, a muscled man without a shirt, and Chandra’s mouth went dry. Thorolf moved with purpose and frustration, and she feared in that moment that he might never be persuaded to fulfill his destiny.