Winter Kiss
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Teaser chapter
Author’s Note
About the Author
Praise for the Novels of Deborah Cooke
Kiss of Fate
“Second chances are a key theme in this latest Dragonfire adventure. Cooke keeps the pace intense and the emotions raging in this powerful new read. She’s top-notch, as always!”
—Romantic Times
Kiss of Fury
“Those sexy dragons are back in the second chapter of Cooke’s exciting paranormal series. . . . The intriguing characters continue to grow and offer terrific opportunities for story expansion. Balancing a hormone-driven romance with high-stakes action can be difficult, but Cooke manages with ease. Visiting this world is a pleasure.”
—Romantic Times
“This second book in Deborah Cooke’s phenomenal Dragonfire series expertly sets the stage for the next thrilling episode.”
—Fresh Fiction
“Entertaining and imaginative . . . a must-read for paranormal fans.”
—BookLoons
“Riveting . . . Deborah Cooke delivers a fiery tale of love and passion. . . . She manages to leave us with just enough new questions to have us awaiting book three with bated breath!”
—Wild on Books
“Epic battles, suspense, ecological concerns, humor, and romance are highlights that readers can expect in this tale. Excellent writing, a smart story, and exceptional characters earn this novel the RRT Perfect 10 Rating. Don’t miss the very highly recommended Kiss of Fury.”
—Romance Reviews Today
“Deborah Cooke has only touched the surface about these wonderful men called the Pyr and their battle with the evil dragons. . . . I am dying for more.”
—Romance Junkies
Kiss of Fire
“Cooke, aka bestseller Claire Delacroix, dips into the paranormal realm with her sizzling new Dragonfire series. With a self-described loner as a hero, this heroine has to adjust to her new role in the supernatural and establish bonds of trust. Efficient plotting moves the story at a brisk pace and paves the way for more exciting battles to come.”
—Romantic Times
“Wow, what an innovative and dazzling world Ms. Cooke has built with this new Dragonfire series. Her smooth and precise writing quickly draws the reader in and has you believing it could almost be real. . . . I can’t wait for the next two books.”
—Fresh Fiction
“Deborah Cooke has definitely made me a fan. I am now lying in wait for the second book in this extremely exciting series.”
—Romance Junkies
“Paranormal fans with a soft spot for shape-shifting dragons will definitely enjoy Kiss of Fire, a story brimming with sexy heroes; evil villains threatening mayhem, death, and world domination; ancient prophesies; and an engaging love story. . . . An intriguing mythology and various unanswered plot threads set the stage for plenty more adventure to come in future Dragonfire stories.”
—BookLoons
Also by Deborah Cooke
Kiss of Fire
Kiss of Fury
Kiss of Fate
SIGNET ECLIPSE
Published by New American Library, a division of
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First published by Signet Eclipse, an imprint of New American Library,
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First Printing, November 2009
Copyright © Claire Delacroix, Inc., 2009
All rights reserved
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PUBLISHER’S NOTE
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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eISBN : 978-1-101-14928-7
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For Kara Cesare—
with many thanks for her energy and enthusiasm
Prologue
Chicago
February 9, 2009
Erik was pacing the floor of his renovated loft. The building had been reconstructed since the fire a year before, and though it was similar to his former residence, the presence of Eileen and their daughter had transformed the space. It was more than just baby toys and items scattered in the kitchen, new toiletries in the bathroom, the closet filled with feminine clothing, and the invasion of knitting wool—the once-austere space now possessed a more welcoming air.
Erik’s living accommodations had finally become a home and he was glad of the change.
Zoë had been colicky since midnight and Eileen had remained up with her. It was just after nine in the morning, a day that Eileen didn’t have to go to the university, but so overcast that it was still dark. Erik walked with his daughter, taking his turn in what seemed like a futile effort to soothe her.
Erik was restless himself. He felt as if his body hovered on the cusp of change, but he couldn’t understand why. There was no threat to his family or home, no presence of other Pyr or Slayers within proximity. It was true that he needed sleep, but this sense was different.
Maybe it was just that he was worried
.
It had been a year since there had been a full eclipse. His own firestorm had been presaged by a full lunar eclipse, as had those of Donovan and Quinn before that. But Erik had checked, and there would be no total eclipses before December 2010.
Did that mean there would be no firestorms for the other Pyr in that interval?
Or did it mean the firestorms were less critical to the survival of the Pyr? The Wyvern had foretold that those three firestorms were critical for the Pyr, that they had to be negotiated successfully for the Pyr to have a fighting chance in the final war with the Slayers. Were subsequent firestorms less important?
Erik didn’t know, and he had no one to ask.
The Slayers were quiet, almost absent from Erik’s sense of the world, and he distrusted that. Magnus hadn’t surrendered, and he wasn’t dead or gone.
Magnus was scheming something somewhere. Erik both wanted to know what it was and dreaded that truth. In times past he would have sought out his old foe, but now Erik had a mate and a child.
More than that, Erik and Eileen had a daughter, which meant the next Wyvern was his child to raise and defend. It also meant he couldn’t access the Wyvern’s wisdom until Zoë herself learned to talk.
He might not be able to consult with her until she passed puberty. That was when male Pyr came into their powers, after all. Erik didn’t know how it worked for the Wyvern, and there was nothing in the paucity of literature about the Wyvern and the Pyr to reference.
Eileen had looked.
Erik had no information and no one to ask. It wasn’t his favored state of affairs.
So he paced with an irritable Zoë and tried to ease his own anxiety.
“I’ve been thinking,” Eileen said, her voice surprising Erik.
He turned to find her in the bedroom doorway, her hair loose and beautiful, her nightgown flowing around her knees. “I thought you were asleep.”
“I was.” She took a bottle of juice out of the fridge and poured herself a glass, glancing up at him with a smile. “Did you know there’s a penumbral lunar eclipse this morning?”
“No, I only look for the total eclipses.” Erik guessed, though, that the partial eclipse might be the reason for his restlessness. He’d never been sensitive to partial eclipses before, but much was changing in the world of the Pyr.
Was that why Zoë wouldn’t sleep, either? How much Pyr was in her already? How much had yet to come?
Eileen sipped her juice, watching Erik so carefully that he knew she had more to say.
“You have an idea,” he prompted.
“There are three penumbral lunar eclipses in a row this year. One today.” She flicked a glance at the clock. “In about fifteen minutes, it’ll be total. Then there’s one in July and another in August.”
“So?”
“What’s a penumbra but a shadow? What if these eclipses are about shadow dragons?”
“That’s ridiculous. Slayers don’t have firestorms. . . .”
“But one of the shadow dragons isn’t a Slayer, is he?”
Erik stared at her, astonished as he understood. “Delaney.”
“Delaney,” Eileen agreed, and finished her juice. “I’m not sure he counts as a shadow dragon, actually. Maybe he’s just in the shadows.”
“He was a dead Pyr when forced to drink the Dragon’s Blood Elixir that raises the dead and turns them into shadow dragons. . . .”
“But not dead long enough that his soul had abandoned his body.” At Erik’s look, Eileen shrugged. “I mean, in Pyr terms, the divine spark within him hadn’t yet returned to the Great Wyvern.”
“Magnus couldn’t corrupt him,” Erik said. “Delaney wasn’t a Slayer choosing to drink the Elixir, either, and he refused to become one.”
“Where is he?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Can’t you feel his presence?”
“I haven’t looked.”
Eileen watched him and he felt compelled to say more.
Erik sighed. “I know that he liquidated all of his assets. He sold his car, his home in Seattle, and sold half of the eco-travel business he started with Niall to Niall at a bargain price. He hasn’t returned to Sloane for further treatment or advice, either. He responds to no query in old-speak.” He met Eileen’s gaze, knowing she didn’t like his answer. “Delaney doesn’t want to be found. I have to respect his desire for privacy and his knowledge of his own reality.”
When Eileen spoke, her tone was so carefully neutral that Erik knew she had strong feelings about his choice. “What about defending his firestorm?”
Could Delaney have a firestorm?
Erik found his daughter watching him with wide eyes. At three months of age, she was too young to really make sense of what she saw and Erik knew it, but still he couldn’t deny his sense that she understood a great deal more than anyone expected. Now she watched him so solemnly that she might have been reading his thoughts.
Questioning his choice, just as Eileen did.
It was at moments like this that Erik believed Zoë was already the Wyvern, that her soul was old and already up to the task, and that it was simply her body holding her back from active participation. He decided to take a chance on his instinct.
Maybe there were other ways to access whatever she knew.
“Will you help me, Zoë?” he murmured in old-speak, that form of speech that humans could not hear. The baby blinked once before she fixed her steady stare on him again.
Had she heard him? He thought so.
“There’s a weird connection between you two, that’s for sure,” Eileen said softly.
“Does it bother you?”
She smiled. “It fascinates me. But then, I have a tendency to believe stuff about old souls finding each other time and again.” Their gazes met and locked as Erik smiled at his wife and partner. She had taught him that not everything was logical, and that there were benefits to taking chances.
“Let’s fill the sink with water,” he suggested impulsively. “The Dragon’s Egg is shattered beyond repair, but sometimes a bowl of water is just as good.”
“Or an ocean can be a dark mirror,” Eileen agreed. She filled the kitchen sink, pulled the blinds, and turned out the lights. They stood side by side in the darkened kitchen, the baby perched on Erik’s hip between them.
Zoë had stopped fussing.
Erik kissed the baby’s forehead and whispered in her ear. “Come on, Zoë. Conjure me a vision that will tell me what to do.” Then he switched to old-speak. “Aid me, Wyvern.”
Erik watched in amazement as the baby extended one plump hand toward the water’s surface, fingers outstretched.
Then he caught his breath as the surface of the water swirled with dark clouds. He leaned closer, bending his attention upon the emerging vision, his heart leaping as a scene became clear. He watched avidly as the ebony clouds parted to reveal swirling red liquid.
“The Dragon’s Blood Elixir,” Erik murmured, remembering the glimpse he’d had of it in his dream of Sigmund.
The baby stretched her hand closer, almost touching the surface of the water. The Elixir flowed and a massive red dragon talon floated into view. Erik had only a glimpse of it before it disappeared into the murk of the Elixir again. He shuddered in understanding of what made the Elixir.
The clouds parted further, revealing a cave, with the Elixir contained in a massive vial against one wall of the space.
“It’s the sanctuary where Magnus has the source of the Elixir secured,” he murmured.
“Is that where Delaney is?” Eileen asked.
The scene spun, then the point of view rocketed through a labyrinthine entrance and out to a parked car. A tall auburn-haired man sat in the driver’s seat, and Erik recognized Delaney immediately. He looked determined.
“He thinks he can eliminate the Elixir alone,” he said.
“Magnus won’t like that plan much,” Eileen murmured. “Where exactly is the Elixir?”
“In a sanctuary, but I d
on’t know where. We’ll have to find it.”
The clouds covered the surface of the water again and Erik thought the vision was over. He kissed his daughter, convinced that she had brought him this gift, but she squirmed and stretched out her hand again.
To his wonder, a gold line, similar to the ones that had once appeared on the surface of the Dragon’s Egg, danced over the surface of the water. It outlined the continent of North America in gleaming gold.
“Whoa,” said Eileen, who had never seen the Dragon’s Egg.
Erik didn’t even dare to blink, lest he miss a detail. His heart was pounding. Zoë was already so powerful! A line of longitude and one of latitude were drawn to triangulate a position.
“Ohio,” Eileen said, leaning forward to look. “In the south.”
“Let’s go,” Erik said, heading for the door to the roof. He felt the change build within him, rising to a crescendo that he might not be able to deny. He was calculating, certain that he could fly to Ohio within hours, perhaps in time to stop Delaney from making a mistake. . . .
Eileen put a hand on his arm to stop him. “Not so fast, Mr. Sorensson. Don’t you remember how Delaney tried to harvest Sara’s son and Alex’s son while both women were still pregnant?”
“That wasn’t Delaney’s intent. Magnus had planted that command in his subconscious and he couldn’t deny it.”
“That’s why he exiled himself.” Eileen was grim. “To protect the children of the Pyr.” She reached and plucked the now-sleeping baby from Erik’s arms, then glared at him. “You have to find a way to aid Delaney’s firestorm without risking Zoë.”
Her point was well taken. Erik’s heart clenched. If the Slayers gained possession of the new Wyvern—well, Erik wouldn’t even consider the possibility.
He couldn’t leave the baby alone with Eileen, not without his personal defense of them both. And he didn’t dare take them closer to Delaney. He frowned, caught between his two responsibilities.
Eileen, as was so often the case, had a solution. “Remember that the mark of a great leader lies in his ability to delegate.”