“My brother. He’ll be crazy with worry.”
“You will not reveal us further!” the stranger protested, but Rafferty put his hand on Melissa’s shoulder. She liked his protective gesture; she liked the implication that he understood her concern and meant to help her solve it.
“I will not see Melissa’s family worried unnecessarily.” Rafferty spoke with both defiance and resolve. Melissa saw that the other man didn’t like it one bit.
But he sat down, lips tight, and said nothing more.
Melissa understood that her dragon had defended her once again. It was hard not to appreciate that kind of gallantry.
Back in the library, she immediately spotted the phone she hadn’t noticed earlier. It was on that big oak desk. She picked up the receiver and punched in her brother’s number, wincing at the time change but knowing Matt wouldn’t care what time she called if she was safe.
He might be awake, waiting.
Rafferty hovered outside the doorway, his back turned to her as if to give her some privacy. He didn’t leave her alone, though, and Melissa wondered why. Did he want to hear what she said? She recalled that his senses were sharper than human senses, and she figured he’d be able to hear her conversation from anywhere in the house.
He shimmered slightly with that blue glow. Was he aware of some threat she couldn’t detect?
“What’s wrong?” she asked as the line connected.
Rafferty gave her a smoldering look. “We are all drawn to the unsatisfied firestorm. Moths to the flame.”
Melissa thought about Jorge and Magnus and spontaneous manifestation and swallowed. She nodded in understanding.
He was defending her again.
Matt answered on the second ring. “Hello?” There was a twinge of anxiety in his voice, making Melissa glad she’d called.
“It’s me. I’m okay. I knew you’d want to know.”
Melissa heard her brother exhale shakily; she knew he had been hoping for news. She felt guilty that she hadn’t realized the story had spread and that she’d been making love to Rafferty while her brother worried about her.
“I suppose that’s all you can tell me,” Matt said. He kept his tone light, but Melissa could hear the undercurrent of fear.
She knew exactly what she had to do.
“Don’t worry about me,” she said. “I’m fine.”
“Really?”
“The only thing missing is a piece of Mom’s apple pie.” Melissa deliberately used the code they’d worked out when she’d been sent overseas. It had been Matt who had suggested that they needed two phrases that seemed innocuous, but which would tell him whether she was safe or not. This was the “safe” one.
She heard his sigh of relief. “Okay,” he said, his voice falling lower. “Okay, Mel. Okay. You know where I am.”
“I do. Sorry. I would have called sooner, but I didn’t realize the story had been picked up until just now.”
“It’s huge,” Matt said, his tone easier. “Your ISP even crashed for a while last night, overwhelmed by the traffic to your blog.”
Those pictures. Melissa swallowed, her gaze flicking to Rafferty. There’d be no rescinding them now. Had his shoulders stiffened slightly? The blue shimmer was a bit brighter; there was no doubt of that.
“I thought people would have decided it was a hoax.”
“Well, there is some of that. It seems as if the world is waiting for your update.” Melissa heard the smile in her brother’s voice. “Just like old times, Mel. The world is hanging on the line, waiting for the latest news from our favorite intrepid reporter.”
“Not exactly like old times,” she said, her heart skipping. Did she want her career back at this price? The answer was less clear than it had been.
“So,” Matt mused, his tone revealing that he was going to change the subject, “this Rafferty Powell whose phone you’re using…”
“What?”
“Come on, Mel. You know I have caller I.D.”
Melissa sputtered for a second, having forgotten that detail. Rafferty turned, his steady gaze locking with hers.
He’d heard.
“Is he related to Rafferty Powell, the antiquities dealer?”
“Who?”
Matt laughed. “There’s a dealer with a huge reputation in London, only takes potential clients by appointment. His warehouse is supposed to be an Aladdin’s cave. Geoff’s been going on and on about him.”
“Geoff Davenport,” Rafferty said softly, leaning in the doorway. The casual posture did exactly nothing to make him look relaxed. “Interior designer in California, impressive vision.”
He
could
hear both sides of the conversation.
“Anyway, if you could get me an invitation in the course of your adventures…”
“Now that you know I’m safe you can talk about
work
?” Melissa teased.
Her brother laughed. “You know how it is.”
“I know exactly how it is, Mr. Obsessed Architect.”
“Family trait to love our work, isn’t it?” Matt laughed again, untroubled by his enthusiasm for his work. “Keep me updated, Mel, when you can. Don’t worry about the time.”
“Okay.”
“And thanks for calling. Joanna will be relieved, too.”
“Kiss the kids for me,” Melissa said, then hung up the phone. She had a lump in her throat, one that seemed to grow larger as Rafferty watched her.
“Not that alone, after all,” he noted quietly.
“What?”
“You told the one who offered you a job that you had no commitments. Not even a houseplant. But you’re not that alone in the world.”
Melissa looked down at her hands, trying to avoid his intent gaze. “He’s my big brother,” she said lightly. “He worries about me. Thanks for letting me use the phone.”
“He loves you,” Rafferty insisted softly.
Melissa shrugged, that lump in her throat bigger by the second. “Isn’t that what big brothers are supposed to do?”
Rafferty didn’t answer that. “Your solitude, then, is more by your choice than by that of anyone else.”
Those dark eyes did see too much. Once again, Rafferty seemed to be able to perceive the secrets of her heart. She wouldn’t show him her fears.
“Maybe. Maybe not.” She lifted her chin and saw him arch a brow.
It was a bit scary how readily this man could coax her confessions. All of her barriers just dissolved with one look from those eyes.
“It’s for Matt’s own protection,” she insisted. “If we were closer, it would be harder for him.”
“How so?”
“If… If the worst should happen.”
Rafferty’s eyes narrowed. That seemed to make him only more perceptive. “And why would a woman of your age be so worried about death? Even if your job was that dangerous, you don’t have it anymore.”
“Anyone can die at any time. There are no guarantees.” Melissa spoke more fiercely than she intended. Her tears rose unbidden, and she pushed past Rafferty. “I really need that coffee.”
“I don’t think that’s what you really need,” Rafferty said quietly as she passed him. Melissa didn’t look up; she didn’t dare, because she knew he’d see straight into her heart.
Talking to Matt and hearing his relief had thrown her game. It made her think of what wasn’t possible, of what she had lost, of all the dreams that had been sacrificed by her illness. She needed to get her shields back in place. She needed to remind herself how cruelly and how quickly dreams could be shattered.
ASAP.
Rafferty let Melissa return to the kitchen ahead of him. He was intrigued both by what she had said and by what she hadn’t said. She had needed to update her brother and reassure him, but she didn’t want to become too emotionally entwined, even with him.
For his own protection.
Was that the truth, or an excuse? Rafferty wasn’t sure. What he did know was that his mate’s armor was more robust than his own. She had built barriers against others, and defended them vigorously.
He understood that she had been hurt.
Badly.
Even without knowing what her injuries had been, Rafferty recognized that he wanted to help her to heal. Was that something that the darkfire would change? Would it give Melissa a new faith in the future? What had stolen that confidence in the first place?
She certainly wasn’t going to tell him. She sipped her coffee and deliberately avoided his gaze.
Erik, meanwhile, was seething. Rafferty wished the other
Pyr
would just leave. Doubtless he had overheard that her brother knew Rafferty’s name.
Rafferty was comfortable with that information passing to Matt, for it would reassure him. Rafferty had no fear of humans, and every passing moment only increased his determination to create a future with Melissa.
“This story is a disaster,” Erik said, picking up where he had left off. “The speculation about us and our role is unbelievable. Some say the Apocalypse is come. Some say we are the Devil incarnate.” He stopped pacing to glare at Rafferty. “Most say we should be hunted and exterminated.”
“It’s not my fault,” Rafferty insisted, trying to keep his voice calm. “It’s the darkfire, turning all on its head, just as the prophecy declares.”
“Yet even aware of the power of darkfire, you have not sated the firestorm and extinguished the darkfire’s burn,” Erik snapped. “It is not like you to be so cavalier, Rafferty Powell. Has the darkfire changed your very nature?”
Rafferty took a big gulp of coffee, feeling that the conversation was turning in a more intimate direction than would be ideal. He didn’t want to embarrass Melissa.
She eyed the newspapers and looked guilty.
Of course, the pictures had originally been posted by her. In essence, she had revealed the
Pyr
.
Erik cast out his hands. “Don’t you owe me an answer? Jorge is returned. We are on the front page of every newspaper and news site. Magnus is alive. Gaia thrashes and heaves, seemingly intent upon destroying the humans we are sworn to defend. We
Pyr
are divided, each torn between our responsibilities.”
“And the Sleeper stirs,” Rafferty added, his words low and tight.
Erik and Melissa both stared at him.
“Who’s the Sleeper?” Melissa asked.
“Is that it, then?” Erik demanded. “You also feel torn between your obligations?” His tone softened. “I will aid you however I can, Rafferty. You must know that.” He leaned closer. “You must sate the firestorm, though. Is that so much to ask from one who has yearned so long for this moment?”
“I have tried!” Rafferty insisted.
“
Tried?
” Erik echoed.
“It should be satisfied. We have done what should be done!”
“But…?”
Even now, there was a shimmer of blue-green between Rafferty and Melissa.
“But it still burns!” Rafferty retorted, biting out the words as his frustration rose. “I have
not
been irresponsible, but the darkfire yet burns.” He put down his empty mug on the counter with force. “The evidence is before our eyes; yet it is inexplicable.”
The tension slid from Erik’s shoulders, as his gaze flicked restlessly between the two of them. He sat down heavily. “Darkfire,” he said quietly. “So it changes even this.” He rubbed his forehead. Rafferty poured himself another coffee, one he didn’t really want.
Melissa cleared her throat. “There’s something you should know,” she said. Rafferty turned to his mate, expecting she might surprise him.
What she confessed, though, astounded him.
I
t was time to share the truth.
This wasn’t the way Melissa had intended to tell Rafferty about her history, but she didn’t have a choice. It looked as if her past was important, and the
Pyr
needed to know the facts to make a plan.
“Perhaps it’s time we were introduced.” She stuck out her hand toward Erik. “I’m Melissa Smith.”
The stranger glanced up, his expression unwelcoming. “I know who you are. I am Erik Sorensson, leader of the
Pyr
.” His tone wasn’t very friendly, but Melissa refused to be deterred.
She pulled out the chair opposite him and sat down with every sign of confidence. She suspected that if he was a guest in Rafferty’s home, he wouldn’t harm her—as frustrated as he might be with her. The fact that Rafferty stood back, evidently certain of the same thing, fed Melissa’s confidence. She knew she could count on Rafferty to defend her.
“Don’t look as if you’d be glad to be rid of me just yet,” she said lightly. “After all, I think I know why the firestorm is still burning.”
“Why?” Rafferty asked, his hand landing on the back of her chair.
Melissa looked up at him, forgetting Erik for a moment. “Let me just make sure I’ve got this straight. You said the firestorm means a
Pyr
has met his destined mate; that he has found the human woman who can bear his child.”
“Yes. Yes.”
“And that the first time they’re intimate, she conceives his son.”
“Yes. That is the essence of the firestorm.”
Melissa smiled, knowing her expression was rueful. “But I can’t have your child….”
“It is not a matter of choice,” Erik said irritably. “Not if you surrender to intimacy.”
Melissa continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “I can’t have
anyone’s
child. It’s not physically possible.”
Rafferty seemed to be aware of the nuances of what she said, for his expression softened. He bent down, crouching beside her, his gaze searching hers. “What do you mean, Melissa?”
His kindness made her words fall less gracefully than she would have liked. “I had cancer. Uterine cancer.” She caught her breath. “They took everything out.” The words stuck in her throat, charged with losses well in excess of her feminine plumbing. “I can’t ever have children, even if I want to.”
“Melissa!” Rafferty’s voice was filled with tenderness, and she felt the force of his compassion. He might have pulled her into his embrace, but Melissa raised a hand between them.
She wasn’t going to go soft now.
She’d melt into a puddle if she did. Tears wouldn’t solve anything.
“It’s in the past,” she said with resolve. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore, but I thought you should know.”
Rafferty’s eyes looked darker, warmer, more compassionate. Melissa couldn’t look away from him. “Thank you,” he whispered, then kissed her fingertips. That blue flame traveled from his lips to her hand, sizzling and simmering and giving her ideas about trying again.
She pulled her hand away and put it in her lap. This man certainly had an ability to get under her defenses. “It’s not his fault,” she said to Erik. “He’s not been irresponsible.”
“But—” Erik began to argue.
“We will not discuss this further,” Rafferty said, hard and fast. “Melissa has endured enough and shows great trust in offering this information now.”
He even defended her emotionally.
Melissa decided she could love this man.
To what point, though? She couldn’t give him the one thing he wanted. It was only a matter of time until he abandoned her. Love didn’t survive shattered dreams, Melissa knew that. Zach hadn’t been able to stay once it had become clear she couldn’t give him a family. Those tears pricked at her eyelids, and she wanted to cry even more.
She wouldn’t, though. Tears were for the weak.
There was no future for her in making families. There was only the quest for the truth.
“But why would you have a destined mate who could not physically bear your son?” Erik asked.
Rafferty sat down heavily beside Melissa, his knee only inches from hers. She sensed that they two were allied against Erik. As Melissa covertly watched the blue-green flames lick against her leg, she wondered whether he had moved so close on purpose.
She moved her leg away from his. She didn’t dare rely on anyone.
“Because there is a greater promise in our alliance than the birth of a child,” he said with a conviction that startled her.
And gave her unexpected hope.
“But think of what damage if the darkfire burns in perpetuity,” Erik protested.
“What kind of damage?” Melissa asked. The only downside she saw was perpetual desire for Rafferty, which wasn’t all bad.
“The firestorm’s heat is a lure to our kind,” Erik said. “We all feel it and are drawn to its heat.” He stopped then, his gaze flicking to Rafferty.
That was what Rafferty had said when she’d been calling Matt.
Moths to the flame.
“You’re saying that Jorge and Montmorency could use its heat to target us,” Melissa guessed. “The way camera lights can draw fire.”
Both men nodded. “So there must be another way to sate it,” Rafferty said. His voice grew even more determined. “The Great Wyvern gives no burden we cannot shoulder.”
“The Great Wyvern?” Melissa asked.
He smiled. “It is our name for the divine force that animates all of us.”
“And God’s a woman.” Melissa nodded. She’d never been much for religion, and her illness had destroyed any vestigial notion that there was anyone looking out for her.
In a way, though, she found Rafferty’s faith both touching and powerful. Maybe faith sustained him. She was more empowered by the facts. Maybe there was something they could accomplish together. Maybe that was the point.
She looked him in the eye. “Maybe it’s time you tell me everything you do know about darkfire.”
“So you can put it on your blog and imperil us further?” Erik asked, his words hard.
“No,” Melissa said, aware that even Rafferty was watching her closely. “I made a mistake. I’m sorry, but I didn’t know what I was doing when I posted those pictures. I should have asked your permission.”
“You were sharing your experience with the world, making others aware of the truth,” Rafferty said quietly. “It’s what reporters do, as I understand it.”
Melissa stared at him, and he smiled. His approval was unexpected, and it made her mouth go dry. She decided not to tell him that she’d posted the pictures only to bring him back to her.
“Exactly,” she agreed. “And I am sorry. But you know, maybe there’s a reason for it. Maybe your Great Wyvern has some kind of plan that requires you to be revealed to humans. Maybe there’s more to be achieved than if you’re hidden.”
“How so?” Rafferty asked, his gaze brightening.
“Well, you’re the guardians of the earth, right?” Melissa said, and he nodded. “And how many of you are there?”
“Not enough,” Rafferty and Erik said in unison. Melissa looked between them. This was evidently an old joke, but no one was going to explain it to her.
“Well, there are ten billion of us, give or take,” she said. “Even a small percentage of us joining ranks with you could make a huge difference to your efforts.”
Rafferty frowned as he considered this notion. Melissa liked that he didn’t just dismiss her idea.
Erik, though, got up to pace again. This was clearly not a popular concept with him. Melissa knew when an idea wasn’t going to fly, or even be discussed, so she changed tactics.
“Okay, let’s forget for the moment about any divine plan,” she said quickly. “We still need to make a
mortal
plan. We can start with what we know, identify what we can change, and go from there.”
“Sensible,” Rafferty said. “I like action plans.” Erik, still clearly displeased, seemed to recognize that he had been outvoted. He sat down again, folding his arms across his chest.
Melissa smiled at him. She’d take any progress she could get, especially with him. “It sounds as if darkfire is about shaking up the status quo, so we should figure out exactly where we stand before we do anything more. It’ll minimize the chances of making another mistake.”
She looked between the two
Pyr
, finding a grudging respect even in Erik’s gaze. Rafferty smiled at her warmly, and she wondered what she had done to earn his favor, even as her heart skipped a beat.
She picked up the pad of paper on the counter and a pen. “Go on. Tell me about darkfire. Don’t leave anything out, even if you think I won’t like it.”
His mate was a marvel.
Rafferty was proud of Melissa’s resilience and her determination. He admired that she had survived her battle and that, even in its wake, she had a zest for living. He knew her confession was only the tip of the iceberg in terms of what she had borne, but he guessed that she wouldn’t confide the rest easily.
Or soon.
He respected that she didn’t flinch from realities or challenges, but met them head-on. “Survivor” didn’t begin to describe her fortitude and guts.
And he particularly liked that Melissa saw the firestorm as an opportunity for them to work together. That meshed perfectly with Rafferty’s standing conviction that a successful firestorm brought
Pyr
and mate together in a relationship that was more than the sum of the parts.
He was intrigued by her idea. Imagine, humans working alongside the
Pyr
! He found it an exciting possibility. That Melissa had made the suggestion bolstered his confidence and fed his own resolve to see his firestorm successfully negotiated.
Or was he simply tempted by the heat of the firestorm to agree with his mate?
Erik was unpersuaded—so far. There would be repercussions, so it made sense to proceed with caution.
By the time Rafferty had put bread in the toaster and taken some fruit and jam out of the fridge, he was decided. He chose to trust Melissa with the tale of the darkfire, even knowing that Erik would have preferred otherwise.
“There is an ancient prophecy about darkfire, one I learned long ago.” Rafferty heard Erik inhale but ignored him.
“Who taught it to you?” Melissa asked.
“My grandfather. He knew all the tales and legends.”
“He was a storyteller?”
“No. He was the Cantor.”
“That sounds important.”
Rafferty looked away, uncomfortable still with this facet of his grandfather’s abilities. It smacked of sorcery to him, and deceit, even after all these years. “He believed it was. I did not.”
“You argued,” she guessed. How much of his thoughts could she perceive? She was so much more observant than most humans.
“It was a long time ago.” Rafferty smiled to soften his refusal to confide that detail. “For the moment, let me tell you the prophecy.”
Erik harumphed, then rose to his feet. The toaster popped an instant later, but he was already there. He gave Melissa two slices and put two more in to toast. Rafferty knew Erik was listening closely.
He spoke carefully, giving the old verse a new cadence.
“Darkfire’s flame burns bright as ice;
No hint of compromise will suffice.
Darkfire’s heat will not fade
Until much that is has been unmade.
Until all that is hidden has been revealed,
Until all that was clear becomes concealed.
Until the Sleeper wakes to his fate,
Until the Cantor’s legacy is claimed.
But out of ruin rises new growth;
The flames of mercury know this truth.”
Melissa wrote quickly, using a kind of shorthand. She didn’t ask Rafferty to repeat anything. He watched her read her own notes again, then tap her pencil against the paper.
He felt Erik turn, felt the weight of the other
Pyr
’s gaze, and wondered at his avid interest.
“
What
was
Pwyll’s legacy? Didn’t you claim it?
” Erik asked in old-speak.
“And who’s the Sleeper?”
Rafferty focused on his mate. Melissa stared out the window and frowned before speaking. Clearly she had heard the rumble of the old-speak. “Who’s the Sleeper?” she asked.
In another place and time, Rafferty might have been amused that they asked such a similar question.
“I can’t tell you that,” Rafferty said, aware of Erik’s watchfulness.
“Then what’s the Sleeper’s fate?”
“Who can say?” Rafferty accepted toast from Erik and made a task of buttering it. He felt Melissa watching him all the while.
“I’ll guess you aren’t going to tell me the Cantor’s legacy.”
Rafferty smiled at her. “I don’t know what it was.”
“Okay,” Melissa said finally. “So, darkfire is a kind of firestorm, one that indicates huge change for the
Pyr
. What makes it happen?”
Rafferty shrugged. “It’s random.”
“Are you sure?” Melissa asked.
Rafferty drummed his fingers on the table. “It’s possible that Pwyll knew more, but I don’t.”
Melissa made a note. “I’ll consider it a random variable, until we know more. What’s changed so far?”
“I see no reason to itemize our weaknesses,” Erik protested.
Melissa glanced at him. “Well, we know one thing that’s been revealed. All of you. What’s been concealed?” Erik didn’t answer her, his lips tight. She scanned her notes. “So, the obvious Plan A would be to determine whether the Sleeper has awakened, but you won’t tell me about the Sleeper. Plan B would be to itemize what’s changed, but you won’t tell me that either. What’s Plan C?”
Rafferty sighed. He had no taste for his toast. How could he make a success of his firestorm without betraying the
Pyr
? What was the Great Wyvern’s plan for him? What should he do? He yearned for a sign of how to proceed, to save him from being responsible for disaster.