Flashfire Page 33

  Air.

  He flew high over the lake, then dropped his father’s body. Cassie covered her mouth with her hands. But the three dragons circled around the falling body, breathing fire that was radiant against the darkness of the night. Salvatore’s clothes caught fire and he looked like a fireball falling to earth.

  Fire.

  They followed his descent, still breathing fire, all the way to the surface of the lake. Lorenzo was the last to pull away and there wasn’t much left of Salvatore’s body to break the surface of the lake.

  Water.

  The splash was smaller than she would have expected. Lorenzo hovered there for a moment, his golden splendor reflected in the dark mirror of the lake.

  When the surface was still, he came directly to her side, the other dragons following him.

  “You have to come in the car tomorrow,” he said, his terse tone revealing the intensity of his feelings. “I’ll beguile you if you want, but it is not optional.”

  “Chen is still at large,” Erik said, proving that he agreed with Lorenzo.

  “And JP isn’t dead enough to suit me,” Lorenzo said.

  Cassie nodded and took a deep breath, knowing what she had to do. “No beguiling,” she said. “I’ll face my fears once and for all. You’re not the only one getting remade by the firestorm.”

  The only reward she needed was Lorenzo’s smile of pride. He took her hand and tugged her against his side, and she heard from the pounding of his heart that he was concerned as well.

  “I’ll try not to freak,” she whispered.

  “I’d appreciate that,” he said, then winked at her.

  By the time Lorenzo drove his orange Ferrari into the state park—right on time—he was running on fumes. The car was fine, but Lorenzo couldn’t remember when he’d last slept. His current state of mind was about as far as possible from where he had wanted it to be at this point in time.

  The key to a successful escape was planning and composure. Lorenzo had thought his planning had been superlative, but with so many things changing in the past twenty-four hours, he was no longer confident that he’d accommodated for every variable.

  He had no composure left.

  His sole triumph was that Cassie was with him.

  Even if her presence made him more nervous than usual. JP was in Erik’s custody, but Lorenzo didn’t trust Chen. He didn’t want to be paranoid, but he wouldn’t believe Cassie was safe until Chen had been incinerated and exposed to all four elements.

  And that hadn’t happened yet.

  “You can do it,” Cassie whispered. She was tucked into the space in front of the passenger seat, a dark blanket over her.

  He cast her a confident smile. “So can you.” He gave her a look and she nodded, touching her finger to her own lips. She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders, composing herself for the ordeal ahead.

  Lorenzo paused on the mark as scheduled and scanned the crowd. It was a good showing, a better crowd than he’d hoped. The weather was perfect and the timing was dead on. The sun was just beginning to set the rocks aglow, the shadows drawing long. The mood was festive, orange banners on all the bleachers and the massive mounted video screens alight with clips of Lorenzo on stage.

  The fireworks were arranged and would be the perfect send-off.

  The site looked exactly as he’d envisioned it, every detail in place. He’d gone over the car in obsessive detail this morning and was sure it was perfect, despite the scratch on the fender and the new windows. Cassie was the one factor left to chance. She hadn’t wanted to be beguiled, and while he respected that, he also worried about her facing her fears at such a key moment. She was the one who had insisted she’d freak out.

  He hoped she was wrong.

  He could smell Slayer. That should have reassured him more than it did. He could smell Pyr, as well, and narrowed his eyes to scan the crowd again. Erik stood near the pit, watchful as ever. Lorenzo knew that Brandt was also close by.

  He was amazed by how much it reassured him to be part of a team.

  Lorenzo supposed he should have asked Erik to do the pyrotechnics display since that was Erik’s specialty and occupation, but he hadn’t thought of it until this very minute. He smiled then, certain that Erik would have refused such a request six months before.

  But this firestorm was about fresh starts. It was about seeing things clearly for the first time in a long time, knowing one’s priorities and understanding everything in a flash of pure insight.

  One last feat.

  He wasn’t going to screw up now.

  Cassie brushed his hand with hers.

  For luck.

  Just as she’d said she would.

  Lorenzo revved the car and the crowd cheered. The music poured from the speakers mounted on all sides, its pounding rhythm calculated to build excitement. Lorenzo drove to the side of the pit, then stopped with a flourish, sending a plume of dust into the sky.

  The music soared, then faded as he stepped out of the car. He ensured that the door didn’t swing wide open, lest Cassie be revealed. He was dressed more casually than usual but with a measure of flair. His jeans were black, as was his leather jacket, but his shirt was as orange as flames.

  He bowed to enthusiastic cheers.

  “Welcome to the final test!” he said, gratified when the speakers picked up his voice precisely as planned. “I bid you not farewell but au revoir. Meet me here in thirty days to witness my survival of the greatest test of all time.”

  He bowed and waved. The operator who had installed the video feed on his arrival stepped back from the car, his movement crisp and smart. He nodded once at Lorenzo and shook his hand, as if wishing him the best.

  Lorenzo could feel the anxiety in the crowd.

  He waved with exuberant confidence.

  He swung back into the car and drove it over the network of chains laid ready for it. He opened the window, gave a thumbs-up to the operator, then closed the window and turned off the car.

  On the massive screens mounted on either side of the viewing area, the video feed showed his face, ten feet tall. It was a good signal. He winked, the image of confidence, and the crowd cheered encouragement. Lorenzo changed the angle of the seat back, unfastening his seat belt, ensuring he could stretch out. He folded his arms across his chest and began to breathe slowly, as if preparing himself for the ordeal ahead.

  Actually, he was listening to the patter of the announcer coming through his ear bud and watching the spectacle unfold. He kept one eye on the second hand sweep of his watch, ensuring that every detail happened on time.

  He was listening to Cassie’s breath and her heartbeat. She slipped a hand over the console and touched his knee, contact helping her composure.

  He was reassured that her pulse slowed slightly.

  The chains were lifted around the car and locked in position, and he liked how the sun glinted off them. They were oversized and looked impressive. The arm of the crane swung into place, and Lorenzo was glad that the operator had remembered to wear his wraparound sunglasses. It made him look impassive, maybe inhuman, and added to the drama.

  The car was lifted with a lurch, right on time. It swung out over the pit, spun slightly, then was lowered into the yawning darkness of the hole. The announcer was rolling through the statistics that Lorenzo had provided about oxygen and water, doing a passable job of presentation. His own concern echoed in his tone, a nice touch.

  Lorenzo felt the chill of the earth as soon as the shadow passed over the car. He waved two fingers at the video feed and heard the response of the crowd. The car settled in the bottom of the pit and he steeled himself for the part he dreaded the most.

  He heard the backhoe move into place. He heard it scoop the first load of dirt. He fought not to wince as that load of dirt landed on the
roof of the car. Cassie’s fingers tightened around his leg and her breath hitched.

  He refused to think of darkness, of being trapped, of being condemned with no chance of escape. He wanted to remind her to be strong but couldn’t say anything.

  He breathed steadily and evenly, forcing his heartbeat to remain slow. He tried to lead by example. He heard her try to do to same breathing exercise.

  The wig he wore itched.

  He watched the dirt cover the windshield, enclosing him in darkness, but refused to twitch. He eyed the luminous dial of his watch, then touched the LED installed on the dash to illuminate the car. He smiled with confidence for the crowd, hiding his discomfiture as well as he was able. The announcer chattered on and on.

  It seemed to take forever to bury the car. That was the point. It should look overdone, escape should appear to be impossible, the weight of earth too great to allow Lorenzo to ever be free again.

  Finally, he heard the bulldozer roll away. He heard the announcer cue the clock and encourage the onlookers to participate in the vigil. He heard the music soar and the fireworks begin. He heard Cassie start to panic.

  And then he moved.

  Lorenzo touched the lever installed below the dash, flipping it with his left knee. The video feed should change, with only a slight flicker, shifting from the live feed to a prerecorded file. Lorenzo waited and listened, but the announcer made no comment upon the display changing, and the fireworks burst overhead with enthusiasm.

  The perfect distraction.

  He waited ten minutes to ensure that the switch had been made and was flawlessly done. It was the longest ten minutes he’d ever endured. He counted them down with the tapping of his foot, just as he’d promised Cassie. She clutched his leg like a lifeline.

  When he was sure it was safe, he bent and caught her face in his hands. She was trembling but not freaking out. He smiled at her, then kissed her quickly. He arched a brow and she swallowed before she nodded.

  She gave him a thumbs-up.

  Lorenzo kissed her harder, to hell with the time.

  Then he folded down the passenger seat of the car. He removed the panel behind the seat, revealing the hatch that led into the trunk. He squeezed himself through the gap, pulled back the carpet on the bottom of the trunk, and slid open the panel installed in the floor. He wriggled along it, feeling Cassie close behind him.

  The exhaust had been slightly reconfigured to allow a narrow span for escape through the bottom of the trunk, one that just barely allowed Lorenzo to slide through. He was glad he’d had it made a bit bigger on impulse, given the modification to his plan. He pulled on leather gloves and plunged his hands into the dirt, hoping the car had been positioned as precisely as planned.

  For a minute, he couldn’t find the cord buried in the dirt. He fought against his panic, searched again, and his fingers closed over it a little more to the left than he’d expected. He pulled the cord hard, heard a small explosion below the car, then the dirt abruptly fell away.

  The fireworks continued far above.

  Lorenzo was down the hole and into the hidden passageway in record time. He crawled its length with haste, uncertain precisely what he’d find at the end of the tunnel. Cassie was close behind him, her breath hitching in her fear. But she was moving. She was keeping to the plan and she wasn’t freaking out. He didn’t think he’d ever been prouder of another person.

  Lorenzo could smell Slayer, so he knew Balthasar had come as bidden.

  What he didn’t know was whether his beguiling had held or not.

  Had Balthasar’s mind come unhinged? Was he still beguiled? Or had Lorenzo’s last-minute interrogation jeopardized everything? Cassie’s safety depended upon his success, but in his current state of exhaustion, Lorenzo wasn’t as confident as he wanted to be.

  He’d have to make it work.

  And that was when he realized precisely what he could do with the flashfire spell. It was his to use, just once, and Lorenzo was going to make it count.

  He wasn’t going to give up anything.

  Balthasar was sullen.

  And hungover.

  Lorenzo decided that was better than other alternatives.

  “I knew you weren’t going to spend a month in that car,” Balthasar sneered by way of greeting. “Nothing is as it seems with you.” His gaze flicked over Cassie, who was leaning against the wall of the tunnel, her knees weak with relief. “What’s with her?”

  “Not your problem.” Lorenzo dropped his voice to the low tone ideal for beguiling. At the same time, he brushed dirt from his jacket. “Everything is real if you look closely enough.”

  Balthasar eyed him warily.

  “It’s those who only look at the surface who are easily fooled.” Lorenzo smiled.

  Balthasar didn’t. “I don’t know what I’m doing here. . . .”

  “Of course you do. You came because you wanted to.” Lorenzo closed the distance between them, backing Balthasar into the wall. He stared into the Slayer’s eyes, checking. The beguiling was holding, but just barely. He was fairly sure that the Slayer wouldn’t attack him, but beyond that, there were no guarantees.

  He had work to do. He summoned the flames in his pupils.

  Balthasar caught his breath and stared.

  Lorenzo smiled. “You came because you had something to bring me.”

  Balthasar’s fingers twitched as he fought the beguiling, but he succumbed. His mind was becoming soft, like butter, but Lorenzo didn’t want to push him too far. “I’m not sure I like your terms,” he said by way of protest, some corner of his thoughts recognizing the truth.

  Lorenzo made those flames burn more brightly. “But we will be allies,” he lied.

  “Allies,” Balthasar agreed.

  “And you cannot break the code alone.”

  “I cannot break the code alone.”

  “Without me, the legacy of Magnus will be completely lost.”

  Balthasar swallowed. “I’m not sure . . . ,” he said, looking away.

  Where was the key? Lorenzo seized his chin, compelling him to look into his own eyes. “You are sure. You know what is right. You know what Magnus wanted.”

  “I know what Magnus wanted.”

  “You know his legacy belongs to you.”

  “I know his legacy belongs to me.”

  “You know that only I can help you claim it.”

  “Only you.”

  “Because we will be allies.” Lorenzo put out his other hand. Balthasar caught his breath. He stared deeply into Lorenzo’s eyes and Lorenzo feared it would all come apart in this last moment.

  He pushed. “Allies,” he murmured again.

  “You a Slayer,” Balthasar whispered, as if trying out the idea.

  Lorenzo smiled. “You and me, together. Allies. Slayers.”

  Something changed then. Lorenzo felt it. Balthasar began to fight hard against the beguiling. “No, no, it’s a lie, it’s a trick, it’s an illusion. . . .”

  Lorenzo seized Balthasar by the chin, compelling the Slayer to hold his gaze. He had to work with the Slayer’s doubts to get around them. “You’re right,” he said, even as he let the flames burn higher and brighter in his eyes. Balthasar stared into his eyes with awe. “We will not be allies.”

  “Not allies.”

  “You will be my minion. You will do as you are bidden.”

  “I will do as I am bidden.”

  Lorenzo was relieved that this idea made sense to Balthasar. Of course, Lorenzo would want to be in charge. It was what Balthasar wanted. “You are nothing without me.”

  “Nothing.”

  “You cannot unlock Magnus’s secrets without me.”

  “I cannot unlock Magnus’s secrets without you,” Balthasar admitted and Lorenzo knew he believe
d this.

  “So you will do whatever I command you to do.”

  “I will do whatever you command me to do.”

  “Where is the library secured? Tell me!”

  Balthasar dug in his pocket and offered a key, like the key to a safety-deposit box. “Caymans, all digitized,” he admitted, then surrendered the name of the bank and the password.

  This legacy of information was what Lorenzo needed to repay Erik. He smiled in triumph as he took the key. Erik had stood by Lorenzo and come to his firestorm, despite years of animosity between them. Erik would have Magnus’s library of ancient documents as his reward. It was only right that these secrets, whatever they were, be in Erik’s responsible claws.

  “You are my minion,” Lorenzo said in old-speak and Balthasar’s lips worked. “Swear it!”

  Balthasar trembled. He swallowed. Some vestige of him flickered in defiance, but Lorenzo had no tolerance and no time. He pushed even harder. He let his hand change shape, let the dragon talons lock around Balthasar’s neck and pierce the skin. Black blood slipped over his nail.

  “Swear it,” he demanded again. “You are my minion.”

  Balthasar’s eyes widened. His mouth opened and closed. Lorenzo let the flames in his eyes leap higher. He began to sing the flashfire song, the song that the Cantor had given him, the song that he had intended to use to sever his own connections with the Pyr.

  But he directed it at Balthasar, severing that Slayer’s connections to the other dragons in the world. Balthasar was as good as dead anyway.

  Lorenzo knew the moment Balthasar’s mind snapped.

  It was the same instant that the flashfire song ended, and Balthasar’s connection to his kind was eliminated.

  The Slayer went slack in his grip, a bit of spittle dribbling from the corner of his mouth. He murmured the word “minion” over and over again, which would have to do.

  “What’s happened to him?” Cassie whispered.

  “His mind is gone.” Lorenzo grimaced. “I pushed too hard.”

  “It’ll all be over soon,” Cassie said and flashed him a thin smile.