Serpent's Kiss: A Dragonfire Novel (9 page)

In a way, she liked that he didn’t admit defeat easily.

In another way, she was afraid he could succeed.

“Maybe I’ll change your mind,” he said with an intent that made her swallow. The heat that emanated from his touch melted Chandra’s protest from her lips and had her leaning toward him, yearning for another sweet kiss. She was losing her mind but when the firestorm burned so hot, she didn’t care.

If she let him kiss her again, there was no telling where this would stop.

She shook off Thorolf’s touch. “There’s too much at stake,” she said flatly, and he studied her. She felt herself blushing, as she never did, and wishing he didn’t agitate her so much.

“Maybe the firestorm will change your mind,” Rafferty said with a smile. He lifted a finger and a moment later Chandra heard the distant sound of police sirens. “You need to leave.”

“We’ll go to my sanctuary,” Chandra said, her words coming quickly. It wasn’t an ideal plan, but she didn’t have a better one—and she couldn’t think with him standing so close to her. “We can argue about the details there.”

“We can consummate the firestorm there,” Thorolf countered, that pale blue shimmer appearing around his body as he prepared to shift shape. “Is it far?”

Chandra nodded, not at all confident that she’d be able to resist the firestorm’s call when he held her against his chest. Even having a small increment of space between them helped her to remember everything she had to do, every detail she’d put in place for this last battle.

No doubt about it: the firestorm was every bit as much trouble as Thorolf.

“Let me give you a firestorm gift,” Rafferty suggested. “Confide the sanctuary’s location to me and I’ll take you there.”

Chandra shook her head at the very possibility. “I won’t tell anyone…”

“Then think of it,” Rafferty commanded, his manner terse. “Fill your mind with the vision of it, the scent and sound of it, your every memory of it. We haven’t much time and Thorolf is tired.”

“Rafferty can spontaneously manifest elsewhere,” Thorolf contributed when Chandra hesitated. “He can take us anywhere pronto.”

Chandra could do the same trick, but didn’t trust herself to stay focused while in contact with Thorolf and distracted by the firestorm’s burn. She remembered only now that Rafferty was the
Pyr
who had been so changed by the darkfire. That must be why he could spontaneously manifest as some
Slayers
did. “Thank you. That would be best.”

Thorolf eyed the other
Pyr
with concern. “If it’s not too much for you.”

Rafferty didn’t even nod, much less leave more time for protest, before a shimmer of pale blue outlined his body. He shifted shape, becoming an opal and gold dragon again, then offered one claw to Chandra. She gripped one of his talons.

Thorolf shifted shape in turn, and Chandra averted her gaze as Thorolf caught her around the waist. She didn’t want to look at how magnificent he was, in the form of a moonstone and silver dragon. It was bad enough being held in the crook of his powerful arm, feeling the firestorm’s burn dissolve every conviction she held to be true.

She’d been right about the firestorm. Its light was brilliant yellow, almost white, and the heated desire it sent surging through her body made her wonder how anyone could resist it. Thorolf crushed her against his chest, and she leaned her forehead against him.

He felt so good.

She was never going to be able to keep her vow of chastity if this temptation kept up.

She shivered, realizing that she didn’t even know the price of breaking it.

She’d never find out because she couldn’t risk failing in her mission.

Rafferty took a deep breath, and then another. Chandra felt a weird quiver slide through her body, even as the scene around them began to waver. It was like the reflection on the surface of a lake, rippling slightly, revealing that it wasn’t real.

How interesting that his ability to move through space and time felt so different from her own. When Chandra moved, she felt nothing. The transition was instant and without sensation.

As the scene around them vibrated with greater force, Chandra heard police motorcycles pulling around the corner of the warehouse. An unwelcome nausea suddenly ripped through her body. She held tightly to Thorolf as a wind swirled around them, one as ferocious as a tempest.

Her mouth went dry, even as her desire doubled and doubled again. She was trapped against Thorolf, held captive by one great claw, and consumed with memories of his scorching kisses. These
Pyr
felt such powerful sensations and passions that she was awed. She’d never felt so vehemently or been so keenly aware of another person. Her tendency to keep everything and everyone at arm’s length was incinerated by the firestorm, making her feel vulnerable and emotional.

Alive.

And burning with desire for more.

Did she have the fortitude to deny the temptation that was Thorolf?

Chandra hoped for the sake of both of them that she did.

* * *

The sensation of manifesting elsewhere was a strange one. Thorolf felt himself flung off his feet and cast through the air, something that didn’t happen often when he was in dragon form. After a long interval, his back suddenly collided with stone. He landed so hard that the breath was knocked out of him, but he shifted shape. He cradled Chandra close, determined to protect her.

Would the firestorm really save him from turning
Slayer
?

Why couldn’t he remember almost two years?

And how the hell had he gotten this tattoo? The possibility that it was Chen’s work seriously creeped Thorolf out, never mind wondering what had been put in the ink. That had to be why it burned so much.

Was Chandra really determined to deny the firestorm? Or had she just been surprised enough to protest?

Thorolf took a steadying breath and the smell of wet vegetation filled his nostrils. He couldn’t discern Rafferty at all, which meant that
Pyr
had continued on to another destination. Thorolf let the firestorm’s radiant heat slide through his body, reassuring him even as it fed his desire. The firestorm had to save him. Chandra would save him. He wasn’t lost yet and he wasn’t going to be lost so long as he had anything to say about it.

The firestorm was the key.

Which meant he needed to convince Chandra.

With the firestorm on his side, he was confident that could be done.

Thorolf was lying on his back in human form, with Chandra sprawled over him. The light of the firestorm had changed, turning to an ethereal silver, although it still fed that simmering desire within him. The silver radiance touched Chandra’s features, making her look so alluring that she was irresistible.

Thorolf pulled her closer, intending to claim a kiss but she braced her hands against his chest and pushed back.

“No way,” she said with a steely resolve that surprised him. “We have to work out a lot of things first.”

He didn’t believe for one minute that they could resist the firestorm, but he was prepared to give her a bit of time to get used to the idea. After all, she was his destined mate. She’d kissed him back. She was attracted to him. If she was feeling anything like he was, she might be arguing because she knew she’d lose the battle. If she wanted to try to deny the firestorm, it would only burn hotter and be better when they did sate it.

Thorolf decided he could live with that.

Chandra got to her feet and put distance between them so deliberately that he understood it was on purpose. He also knew it wouldn’t make any difference. He noticed the way she caught her breath, and how she couldn’t keep herself from taking a good look at him. He listened and heard the rapidity of her pulse, which was all the confirmation he needed.

The firestorm was on his side.

He wasn’t the most patient
Pyr
on the planet but for the sake of his firestorm, he’d give patience a try.

Thorolf braced his weight on his elbow and smiled as he took a long slow look at her. His perusal agitated Chandra, more proof that the firestorm was undermining her self-control and destined to win. “You’re right,” he mused. “The view is better at a distance.” He was gratified by the way she blushed. There was a sweetness, almost an innocence, about her when she was flustered that he found very attractive. Maybe that was because it was in such contrast to her air of command. She seemed to be so confident and strong, but was shaken by the firestorm’s effect.

Thorolf figured they had at least that much in common.

And he liked the idea that he might be able to teach this competent and powerful woman a few new tricks. He lifted a brow and grinned at her. “If you think you can resist the firestorm forever, you’re made of tougher stuff than me.”

“It’s got to burn out and fade away,” she said, her words a little rushed. She might have been trying to convince herself. “Everything does.”

“Not this.”

“Nothing lasts forever.”

“True. We’ll succumb to it sooner or later.”

“I don’t believe it,” she insisted. “It can’t be true. There’s too much at stake.”

He glimpsed fear in her eyes, then she pivoted and leapt to a stone outcropping. He wondered what she was worried about and wanted to know. If it was something obstructing the firestorm, he needed to eliminate it.

He also guessed that asking her point-blank wouldn’t get him an answer. With this space between them, she looked defiant and cool, as unlike the woman who had kissed him as possible.

Never mind the thousands of women she’d been during that kiss.

She sat down and watched him as the firestorm burned slowly and steadily. Even with the change in hue, it was more commanding than a bonfire. He found himself admiring her hands, the line of her chin, the intelligence in her eyes. Every bit of her seemed to feed his desire to possess her completely.

It was funny that he’d always had hopes for his firestorm, but he’d never truly believed how it could shake his world, not until it lit. He felt that everything was different—and so much was possible.

“How long do you think we can last?” Thorolf asked.

“Forever,” Chandra said with a resolve he didn’t share.

“Why? What’s at stake?”

Her eyes flashed. “Everything!”

It wouldn’t solve anything to be frustrated with her. Thorolf averted his gaze from his enticing mate and let the firestorm pick up the slack, simmering and burning while they were together.

On the upside, that weird tattoo seemed to have faded. The marks were so faint that it might have been done with temporary ink. It didn’t hurt anymore, either. He caught Chandra looking and was glad he’d peeled off his shirt. He wasn’t broken-hearted that he’d forgotten to tuck it beneath his scales, either. He made a show of checking out the tattoo, ensuring that he flexed his muscles as he did so.

She caught her breath and he smiled.

It was only a matter of time.

“It’s better,” he said, purportedly examining the tattoo. Really, he was watching her from the periphery of his vision. “You’re healing it.”

“Not me,” she said quickly.

“The firestorm then.”

She shook a finger at him. “Don’t go there.”

“Well, it’s true.”

She regarded him skeptically. “You’ve got to have a better line than that.”

Thorolf laughed and she smiled, another flush stealing over her cheeks. When she lightened up and her eyes sparkled, he had to stop himself from moving closer.

Patience was the key.

Thorolf looked around and was surprised by their surroundings. They seemed to be in some kind of large stone temple, or maybe a lost city, one being steadily devoured by the jungle. The buildings had crumbled to ruins, no doubt with the help of the thick vines that wrapped around the stones. The pillar Chandra sat on was cracked, leaves erupting from the gap. He was startled to realize that an eye was carved from the stone beneath her, a huge eye that seemed to be watching him.

In fact, the whole pillar depicted a face, one with a serene smile and a thousand-mile stare. Far from making Thorolf feel a similar serenity, it gave him the creeps. He sat up warily, realizing that the jungle stretched endlessly in every direction. He felt a moment’s panic that there were no bars, coffee shops, restaurants or other people. If he’d had his cell phone, he probably couldn’t have gotten a signal here.

They could have stepped off the edge of the world. The very idea was troubling.

There wasn’t a damn thing to eat.

The vegetation was thick and fleshy, of a green so dark that it disappeared into shadows. Mist gathered along the ground and huddled around the stone pillars. He had a vague sense that it was night, although the sky was hidden from view by the growth of the jungle.

The realization that this would be the perfect habitat for snakes filled him with fear and loathing, although he wasn’t sure why his thoughts had turned in that direction.

Snakes. He shuddered involuntarily. He didn’t remember disliking snakes before.

His gaze dropped to those two holes on his arm, and the dark skin around them. The sight revolted him, although he couldn’t remember where he’d gotten the scars.