Kiss of Fury Read online

  “Sure I am. What corpse are you worried about?”

  Alex looked between the three of them, then squared her shoulders and looked into the lap pool. Just as Donovan had expected, there was nothing in the water, nothing except his own challenge coin shining from the tiled bottom.

  Alex stared, then stepped closer. It was almost comical how she scanned the conservatory, looking for Tyson’s hidden body. “Where is he?”

  “Gone.” At her glare, Donovan smiled. “Once exposed to the four elements, the body of a fallen Pyr or Slayer returns to those elements.”

  “You mean he dissolved.”

  Rafferty nodded. “Pretty much.”

  “And you knew he would. That’s why you weren’t worried about getting rid of the body last night.”

  Donovan nodded.

  “You could have told me,” Alex complained.

  “Would you have believed me?”

  “No.” She smiled, then frowned at the water. “What’s that?” She reached into the pool and retrieved the silver dollar from the bottom. She turned it in her hands, then looked at Donovan.

  “My challenge coin.” He took it from her fingertips, dried it off, and put it back in his pocket. It tinkled against the Dragon’s Tooth and his fallen scale, a reminder of new trouble that he didn’t need.

  “From the blood duel,” Alex said, remembering what he’d told her. “Why a coin?”

  “It’s tradition,” Quinn said.

  Rafferty shrugged. “Maybe because it’s winner take all, and traditionally, the loser had a hoard.”

  “What about Tyson’s hoard?”

  The Pyr exchanged a glance. “Erik will know,” Rafferty said.

  “Won’t the Slayers contest the transfer of funds, if there are any?”

  “They wouldn’t dare.” Donovan spoke with force. “It’s tradition and it’s always been upheld. If Boris thinks he’s going to rip me off, he can think again.”

  Alex slanted him a teasing glance. “Hey, I thought we took him down together. Do I get half?”

  Donovan grinned. “What do I get for saving you from Tyson?”

  “Hmmm. Maybe we’ll call it square.”

  “Hmmm. Maybe we will.” Donovan arched a brow, holding her gaze. He smiled slowly, knowing that it made him look wicked and unpredictable. He was feeling wicked and unpredictable. He let his voice drop to a suggestive purr. “And maybe we won’t.”

  He reached for her and the spark of the firestorm arced between them when they were still three feet apart.

  Alex caught her breath and her eyes widened.

  “I thought you took care of that,” Quinn muttered.

  Donovan felt the back of his neck heat and he cursed the keen hearing of the Pyr. “So did I,” he admitted in old-speak. Rafferty’s eyes shone, but Donovan didn’t want to know his mentor’s interpretation of events.

  He had a feeling that he already knew what the problem was.

  The condom. The firestorm demanded a conception. It accepted no compromise. The firestorm would not be cheated or thwarted. It was pushing him toward a commitment he didn’t want to make.

  He didn’t even know what Alex thought about it. He could guess, given that she’d suggested the condoms. He liked that they were in agreement on another matter, but didn’t like the sense that their relationship had a best-before date.

  It wasn’t like him to consider the long term, but Alex was changing his perspective.

  Or was it the heat of the firestorm?

  Either way, if the firestorm kept redoubling, how would they survive until February?

  The sight of the Green Machine prototype overhead made Alex smile again. It was so good that it was here and safe. She felt better just looking at it.

  “Let’s see how to get it down,” Donovan said, and indicated one of the ladders mounted on the inside of the boathouse.

  Alex climbed the ladder ahead of Donovan, her anticipation rising with every rung. The Pyr would help her get the Green Machine down, she’d mix up some saltwater solution, and they’d be ready to go for a test-drive before lunch. If the engine wasn’t running very smoothly, Donovan could probably tweak it in the afternoon.

  There were so few obstacles and so many hands to help remove them that Alex’s old optimism was back. If her luck held, they’d be ready a whole day in advance.

  She should have recognized by now that her luck was AWOL.

  Donovan was right behind her on the ladder. She could feel his presence, that familiar heat at her back.

  “Hold on,” he said when she got to the beam that ran alongside the car. He offered his outstretched hand and even though Alex wasn’t afraid of falling, she took it anyway. The spark was so hot that she had to close her eyes.

  Alex wanted to touch the prototype all over, to reassure herself that it was exactly as she had left it. She was being neurotic again and she knew it, but it would feel good to be proven wrong.

  The car rocked slightly as Alex leaned through the passenger window. She frowned. The Green Machine seemed lighter. It rocked differently. She had a bad feeling about that.

  Alex walked the beam to the front of the car, ignoring Donovan’s warning. She popped the hood, looked into the empty chassis, and swore like a sailor.

  The car had been gutted.

  The engine was gone.

  “They wrecked it!” Alex shouted, more angry than she had ever been in her life. It had to have been Slayers. It was one thing to attack her, to kill Mark, and to stalk her. It was one thing for them to be bent on the destruction of the human race.

  It was quite another for Boris and his team to mess with the Green Machine. Alex could have spit sparks.

  “Who? Where’s the engine?” Donovan was right beside her. “Did you store it separately?” He was hoping and Alex knew it.

  “Ask the Slayers. They’ve really done it this time.” Alex ground her teeth. She wanted to sit down and cry. “There’s no way I’ll have a working prototype by Thursday.”

  Donovan’s expression was rueful. “That was probably the plan.”

  “What the hell am I going to do?”

  He spared her a bright glance. “Don’t jump.”

  “I’m not self-destructive.” Alex rubbed her forehead. “Just mad. Frustrated. Deeply unhappy.” She turned away from him, afraid that she was going to cry.

  She would have thought there would have been more people willing to help get her invention into production. It was a green solution, a way to save the earth. After five years of fighting, Alex suddenly felt very tired.

  Donovan meanwhile bent to look where the engine should have been. Alex saw him shimmer around his edges, the usual precursor to his shifting shape. He caught himself with a visible effort, then leaned forward. His expression was intense, his eyes glittering.

  “Sigmund,” he murmured.

  “What?” Rafferty called from below.

  “Sigmund took the engine.”

  “But when?” Quinn demanded.

  Alex’s thoughts flew. “The fire at the lab was only two weeks ago. Did the Slayers come here first or afterward?”

  “How would they have known to do so?” Donovan asked. “Did you tell anyone that you’d stored this here?”

  “No. Peter didn’t know and Mark told them nothing.” Alex watched Donovan. He was working his way slowly around the hood of the car. She knew he was seeing something that she couldn’t. “It makes no sense,” he said. “The scent is so faint that the mark could be years old.”

  “This Green Machine didn’t exist years ago,” Alex said.

  “So, it’s a new mark, but disguised,” Rafferty concluded. “Interesting.”

  Donovan paused and retraced his course, his expression focused. “Except here.” He gestured to the latch for the hood. “It’s strong here. It could be hours old.”

  “How can it be so inconsistent?” Alex asked.

  Quinn folded his arms across his chest. “It makes me think of thieves wiping their fingerprints o
ff the getaway car, as though Sigmund missed a spot.”

  “Can you all remove your scent?” Alex asked.

  Donovan shook his head. “No. This is new and it’s not good.”

  Alex wasn’t going to think about how bad things must be if Donovan was worried. Instead she was going to let the Pyr do what they did best, while she did what she did best. That rumble of thunder began again and she knew they were conferring.

  Meanwhile, she was going to make a shopping list to rebuild the engine from scratch. She had the schematics and Mark’s notes and Peter’s computer. She had a bunch of dragons to help her out.

  She had to try her best.

  The Pyr moved the Green Machine out of the boathouse and into the garage under Alex’s supervision. There was new urgency in all of them, knowing as they did now that their task was much greater than they’d believed. In the garage, the smell of fresh coffee teased their nostrils, along with bacon and blueberry pancakes. Alex paused beside the Green Machine.

  She looked so lost that Donovan put his arm around her shoulders and gave her a quick hug. She leaned against him for a beat, then straightened to considered the Pyr. Donovan was impressed by how quickly she became practical. The woman was a problem-solving marvel. “Were you serious about helping me?” she asked.

  “Yes,” the Pyr said in unison.

  “Okay.” Alex nodded. “I can print out a list of parts and pull up the schematics from the backup disks.” She shrugged. “I don’t think we’re going to get a lot of sleep, but there’s an outside chance we can pull it off.”

  “We don’t need a lot of sleep,” Donovan said, proud of her for not giving up the fight. “If all of us work together, we should be able to do it.”

  “Okay. Eat up while I make a list.” Alex’s smile flashed. “And no complaining that I’m pushing too hard.”

  “There’s no sacrifice too great when the future of the planet is at stake,” Rafferty said.

  “I like how you think.” Alex nodded, patted the car, and headed into the house. Donovan watched her walk, her confidence restored, and was impressed again by his mate.

  Alex was amazing to him. She was undaunted by obstacles, even her own fear. She just created a plan and began to work steadily toward a solution.

  “Your mate will be a valuable asset to our team,” Rafferty murmured in old-speak. “Her spirit is great.”

  Donovan frowned and confessed something he’d never expected to admit. “I’m afraid, Rafferty. You saw the scale.”

  Rafferty looked at the ground for a moment, as if it would surrender the answers to him. “And now you are missing two.”

  “I could paint a target on the spot, it’s so big.”

  “A wise man once told me that love heals all wounds and removes all vulnerabilities.”

  “That seems unlikely.” Donovan tried to control the tone of his voice. “What if I have to fight again . . . ?”

  Quinn dropped a heavy hand on Donovan’s shoulder, silencing his concerns. “It’s not easy to welcome the firestorm, but it will make you more than you are.”

  “It will make you the Warrior you are destined to be,” Rafferty agreed.

  Donovan started. “Wait a minute. I’m not destined to be the Warrior. There’s never even been a Warrior I can remember.”

  “I saw the potential in you from the first,” Rafferty said. “You have learned a great deal, but this firestorm is your final test.”

  “The firestorm forges new strength and resilience,” Quinn said. “Just as the forge tempers iron into steel, the fire makes the blade more than it could have been otherwise.”

  “The firestorm transforms us into more than we could be otherwise,” Rafferty agreed.

  Donovan thought about those two missing scales and worried.

  “She can heal you,” Quinn said. “But it must be her choice.”

  “How do you know?” Rafferty asked.

  “The Wyvern sent me a dream. My father told me of the power of love in a firestorm.” Quinn cleared his throat. “He said that only love healed, and that only enduring love healed for the duration.”

  “Interesting,” Rafferty said. “Then you cannot heal a Pyr outside of his firestorm—”

  “Not for the duration,” Quinn agreed.

  “And you cannot even do so then without the mate volunteering to assist,” Rafferty continued. Quinn nodded and Rafferty turned to Donovan. “And you cannot use your firestorm to armor yourself out of selfishness, not unless you make an enduring commitment to your mate.”

  “I don’t do long term.” Donovan said quietly.

  “Do you not?” Rafferty asked, his eyes glowing. “You have fought for many centuries with the Pyr.”

  It was true. Donovan was vulnerable because of his affection for Delaney and now for Alex, but the healing of his wound relied upon Alex. He didn’t think she did long term, either, which was maybe what he truly feared.

  Donovan saw that his concern was with a lack of control. It wasn’t up to him whether he was healed and he was used to solving problems himself. Did he dare to trust her? And be patient?

  Neither were tricks Donovan did well.

  “Only the truly intrepid dare to face their own weaknesses,” Quinn said, as if guessing his thoughts.

  “Only the bold dare to ask for the aid they need,” Rafferty added.

  Like Alex. Donovan couldn’t evade the comparison. She never accepted her fear as a limitation. She never was too confident to ask for help. She had a talent he could emulate. She could teach him how to become more than he was.

  If he dared to surrender fully to the firestorm.

  Donovan realized it wasn’t so much a question of whether he would do so, but when.

  Sara seemed to understand the need for haste, because she started talking as soon as they were all in the kitchen. Alex had brought the laptop to the counter and ate with one hand while she worked with the other.

  It looked to Donovan as if she was used to working like that.

  “There’s an old Greek myth about a warrior named Cadmus who killed a dragon with the help of Athena,” Sara explained as she served out pancakes. “The rest of his story isn’t that important—the dragon bit is what interests us now.”

  “Surprise,” murmured Quinn, and Sara flashed him a smile.

  “Athena told Cadmus to take the dragon’s teeth as his trophy, after he killed the dragon. Then she told him to sow the teeth into the ground. The teeth sprouted an army of fighting men, stronger than any Cadmus had ever seen. They would have attacked him, but he threw stones among them. They blamed each other for that and began to fight among themselves.”

  “Not the brightest bunch,” Quinn commented.

  “They were spawned of teeth,” Rafferty noted. “What can you expect?” The pair nodded at each other as they filled their mugs with coffee.

  Sara shushed them both with a glance. “The warriors killed each other until there were only five of them left. These five made a pact of peace and became the founding fathers of the Spartans, which means sown men. The story is about the establishment of Thebes and its warrior rulers.”

  “Myth,” Donovan said.

  “Fantasy dressed up as truth,” Alex agreed, and they exchanged a look of understanding.

  “No,” Sara said. “It’s the story of the Pyr, disguised for human consumption. Maybe it’s even the story of the Pyr’s origins. I dreamed the story of Cadmus, and Athena in my dream looked a lot like Sophie.”

  The Pyr exchanged a glance.

  “I dreamed of those teeth being planted in the earth,” Sara insisted. “They looked like pearls in the soil. I dreamed of them sprouting into warriors who joined the Pyr army.”

  “Erik mentioned that there were portals open to the past,” Rafferty mused. “That some things were possible that had not been possible for centuries.”

  “Let’s find out.” Sara put out her hand again. “Give me the tooth.”

  Donovan produced the pearl from his pocket. I
t gleamed on his palm, snaring every gaze. It was his and he thought what was done with it should be up to him.

  “What are you going to do with it?” he asked, already sure he knew the answer.

  “We’re going to plant it, just like the story says.”

  “I have a better idea,” Donovan said. “We’ll plant it, but we’ll plant it on Peter’s property and mark the spot.”

  “Why?” Sara asked.

  “Well, what if you’re wrong?”

  “I’m not wrong,” Sara said with force.

  “She is the Seer,” Quinn noted.

  “Anyone can be wrong.” Donovan held up a hand when Sara might have argued with him. “We’ll do what you suggest, but if nothing comes of it by next spring”—Donovan nodded at Alex—“Alex can dig it up and have a memento of this whole adventure.”

  Donovan saw Rafferty look down into his coffee and knew that his mentor understood, even if the others didn’t.

  Donovan had lost a scale over Alex. He cared for her, but Slayers were determined to kill her. He’d do anything to defend her, even sacrifice himself.

  So, his pearl would be her insurance plan. If things went wrong and Donovan died, Alex would have a bit of his hoard for her own. If they conceived a child—Donovan was no longer convinced that they’d manage to hold out until February against the firestorm’s escalating power—Donovan’s son would have a memento of his father.

  It was the best Donovan could offer under current circumstances. It was a whole lot more than Keir had left him or Delaney. He hoped he was around himself to dig it up with Alex.

  He didn’t think for a minute that Sara really was right.

  “Fair enough,” said Quinn, plucking the pearl from Donovan’s hand. He handed the gem to Rafferty. “You’d better sing it a lullaby to improve the chances of success.”

  Rafferty took the pearl, turning it over in his hands while he studied it. His eyes narrowed as if he were listening. “It whispers of bone,” he said, his gaze rising to meet Donovan’s. “Maybe Sara is right. Maybe Magnus knew the worth of the gem and that’s why he kept it. And maybe Olivia knew exactly what she asked of you.”

  But Donovan wasn’t interested in the past. They had work to do to ensure the future.