Flashfire (37 page)

“Where?”

“The Caymans?”

“Don’t give me that,” Cassie teased. “You’re not switching sides.”

“No. I’m giving the library to Erik, so we can learn more of Magnus’s secrets.” He held her hand tightly and led her toward the exit, tugging off his wig and shoving it into his pocket. The sight of him shaved bald still made her smile.

“And then?”

“And then, Signor L. Rossi will move into the villa he’s restoring in Venice, the one that’s on the footprint of an old courtesan’s home.” He flicked her a look and she sensed his trepidation. “He’s hoping that there will be a Signora Rossi joining him there.”

Cassie grinned. “Any particular candidates in mind?”

Lorenzo grinned right back. “I believe the lady in question will be very interested to learn that Italians make wonderful lingerie.”

Cassie laughed. “Does Signor Rossi have identification?”

Lorenzo scoffed. “Do you really imagine I’d overlook such an important detail?”

“No. And we’re in the perfect place for a quick wedding.”

“Honeymoon in the Caymans?”

“Sounds perfect to me. Let’s go.”

Lorenzo donned Balthasar’s sunglasses and pulled the keys to the rented Ferrari out of the pocket of Balthasar’s jeans. He and Cassie marched out of the tunnel, leapt down the rocks, and headed for the temporary parking lot. The black Ferrari was at the edge of the lot, presumably because Balthasar had arrived late.

The fireworks were just ending when they got into the car.

“I’m just curious,” Cassie said. “Who would you have left in the car if Balthasar hadn’t shown up?”

“Some details can’t be planned,” he admitted. “I had a feeling the perfect candidate would turn up, and I trusted my instincts. If he hadn’t, I would have thought of something.”

“I thought you liked to control every detail.”

“Sometimes, even old dragons need to learn new tricks.” He winked. “Otherwise, I’d never have won the prize offered by my firestorm. That would have been a tragedy.” He leaned over and kissed her thoroughly. They shared a smile; then Lorenzo merged the car into the departing traffic.

Their future had begun.

Epilogue

A
month later, Cassie and Lorenzo had a houseful of guests and a raging party. A massive flat-screen television had been installed in the largest room of the Venetian palace Lorenzo was restoring and the room was full of dragons, their mates, and their children.

All the
Pyr
had come to witness Lorenzo’s big finish. As a bonus, Lorenzo and Erik had given Cassie permission to share the truth with Stacy, and Cassie’s best friend was also staying with them in Venice. Stacy was awed by the dragon shifters, and as much in pursuit of kismet as ever. Cassie was glad to have the air cleared between them and doubly glad to have her friend visiting.

The unearthing of Lorenzo’s car was scheduled for dawn, which meant the show made a good prelude to dinner in Venice.

Cassie really liked the other dragon shifters and their partners. They had arrived gradually, some staying with Cassie and Lorenzo in the palace and enduring the dust of restoration, others staying at nearby hotels. She liked that they hadn’t all descended upon Venice at once, so she’d had time to get to know them each a bit.

She wasn’t surprised by how much she liked Melissa Smith—having seen her on television made the reporter seem like an old friend. Rafferty was impossible to dislike, his calm and charm making him someone who was easy to have around. Their adopted daughter Isabelle was lovely and had explored the house with Cassie.

Cassie wasn’t surprised by how much she liked Eileen Grosvenor, either, given her admiration of that woman’s partner, Erik Sorensson. Their daughter, Zoë, was adorable and just as inquisitive as Isabelle.

Sloane, the Apothecary of the
Pyr
, had arrived with Marco. Cassie liked Sloane’s quiet competence, although she still found Marco quite enigmatic.

Donovan, the Warrior, was charismatic and energetic, also impossible to dislike. He and his partner, Alex, had taken daily forays into the city with their son, Nick, seemingly determined to explore every corner in their time here—and this despite the fact that Alex looked about ready to drop their second son. She was due at the beginning of August.

Quinn, the Smith of the
Pyr
, was watchful and protective of his family. Cassie liked the consideration he showed for his partner, Sara, who seemed to be still tired from her last pregnancy. She’d delivered her second boy in February and they’d named him Ewan. She disappeared into Lorenzo’s library with the new baby every day and had pronounced it perfect.

Delaney and Ginger had come from Ohio, leaving their organic dairy farm in the care of trusted friends and neighbors. The
Pyr
were teasing Delaney that their son, Liam, needed a brother and Cassie noticed that the couple had been taking regular moonlight strolls in Venice.

There was no more romantic place on earth, she was convinced. She also suspected that Stacy would be visiting a lot in the future.

Niall and Rox had come from New York with their twin sons, who were just four months old. Quinn and Sara had done some babysitting for that pair as they delved into the nightlife of the city. Cassie hadn’t even realized there was a tattoo parlor in town, but Rox had found it and befriended the artists there.

Having the
Pyr
visit with their partners and kids was like suddenly inheriting the enormous, affectionate, extended family that Cassie had never had. Cassie loved it, and she knew Lorenzo did, too.

Brandt had arrived last, still somewhat unhappy with Lorenzo’s deception. They had spent a day closeted with Erik, probably negotiating a truce of some kind, and he’d been thawing toward Lorenzo ever since.

He was also making a sizable dent in their inventory of brandy. Cassie saw Sara try to speak to him several times, but Brandt brushed her off. Cassie was sure she’d find out in time what the issue was.

Apparently there was one
Pyr
missing, a guy named Thorolf. Although Rafferty expressed concern for him, the others consistently changed the subject when his name came up.

Cassie wasn’t feeling too badly, other than the morning sickness that had her running to the bathroom. She had no doubt that she was pregnant, although she’d only gone for the blood test a few days before and had not yet received the results back from the lab.

In Venice, she’d decided that the Ansel Adams plan wasn’t for her. Nature was beautiful, but not as surprising or as revealing as she liked. Cassie was intrigued by people and liked to capture that perfect candid shot. She recalled an image she had seen years before, of a clown backstage removing his makeup and his facade with it. She’d hunted it down on the Internet and bought a print for inspiration.

Since then, she’d been hunting glimpses behind the veil, documenting the truth behind the illusion. She had a good two dozen shots, about six of which she thought were fabulous, and a real sense of pride in what she was doing. It wasn’t easy and it wasn’t quick, but Cassie was having a wonderful time.

And Lorenzo was her number one fan. He was determined to get her a show in Venice to showcase her work.

It wasn’t as if either of them had to worry about money. The shots of Lorenzo that she’d taken that morning in the desert were throwing cash beyond her highest expectation. It seemed that every publication on the planet wanted rights to print them; there were T-shirts, umbrellas, tote bags, and a touring gallery show in the works; Melissa Smith had integrated some of the shots into her own program, paying for exclusivity on a couple of very nice shots; a digital artist had used morphing software to animate the change, stringing together the shots into a seamless video display. Cassie was carefully investing the money, ensuring that their son would have a secure future.

From the look of it, the kid would be able to start his own Ferrari collection when he got his license.

Life was good.

The
Pyr
jostled each other for a view as the music swelled.

“Here it comes,” Quinn said.

The music rose to a crescendo and the scene unfolded in brilliant color across the huge flat-screen television. The view was stupendous with the sun rising over the desert, touching those red rocks with fire. The sky was perfectly clear.

“Fantastic resolution,” Donovan said with admiration. “We should get one of these.”

“I like having windows instead,” Alex said, and he grinned.

“Great reception,” Sloane said.

“Dish on the roof,” Lorenzo supplied.

Cassie watched Lorenzo’s eyes narrow as he scanned the image. She knew he wanted every detail to be perfect.

Stacy shivered elaborately. “It’s so exciting.”

Cassie saw Lorenzo smile at her friend’s reaction.

“And here we are,” the announcer said. “Finally at the day of unearthing Lorenzo’s greatest spectacle. Let’s review the feat.”

They ran footage of Lorenzo’s arrival at the site, his confident wave, the car being buried. Cassie was glad to see that her presence was completely invisible. She put her hand in Lorenzo’s and he squeezed her fingers.

“That’s one great car,” Delaney said.

“Shame about the paint,” Niall murmured.

Lorenzo smiled as the video shifted to the feed within the car. He looked calm and composed, closing his eyes and settling back as if he’d sleep for the entire month.

Serene.

They saw the fireworks from that night for the first time, and Cassie thought about what they’d been doing while the world was entertained. She shivered, glad that Chen’s brand was destroyed for good.

The shot changed to one announcer, who looked concerned. “Of course, we were all shocked when there were technical glitches with Lorenzo’s feat. The batteries died in his cell phone two weeks ago, so he’s been out of contact. His team, though, was determined to not intervene.”

The announcer pivoted and gestured to another screen. “The video feed from the car also died two days later. No one knows what’s happened in that car in the past twelve days. No one knows Lorenzo’s status. The people gathered here today have come to see the truth with their own eyes.”

“Is that what they’ll see,” Erik said softly, and the
Pyr
all laughed.

The second announcer took up the patter, speculating on the possibilities and reviewing Lorenzo’s amazing career.

Meanwhile, the camera panned in on the site of the spectacle. Cassie was surprised to see how many people had gathered. There must have been ten thousand people and their agitation was palpable. She was pretty sure that waitress and her kids were there, despite the hour.

“Great turnout,” she said to Lorenzo, tightening her grip on his hand.

His smile was quick. “The more witnesses, the better.”

They split the screen then, showing a slice of the expectant crowd on one side, and the large, shiny bulldozer rumbling into position.

“Should have gotten a bigger one,” Lorenzo murmured.

The bulldozer dug into the earth, the crowd seeming to hold their collective breath.

“An amazing feat, if he does survive it,” one announcer babbled. “What do you think his chances are, Ed?”

“Not very good, I’m afraid. It’s been unusually hot this month here in the desert, with record-high temperatures recorded almost every day for the past two weeks. Even buried in the sand, the car would have become very hot.”

“There were sensors linked to the car, weren’t there, Ed?”

“There were, and they’ve recorded a consistent temperature within the vehicle between 90 and 110 degrees. There’s a very real chance of dehydration, as Lorenzo had only a small amount of water enclosed in the car with him. If, of course, he didn’t run out of oxygen first.”

“But until the video feed failed, Lorenzo appeared to be sleeping quite comfortably in the driver’s seat of the car.”

“Appearances can be deceiving,” Rafferty murmured, and Melissa smiled. She’d been sworn to secrecy on the truth of Lorenzo’s feat, just like all the
Pyr
and their partners. Given the speculation about Cassie’s photographs and the identity of the man in those images, Lorenzo needed to lie low for a few years.

The announcers continued. “Well, there are people, Bill, who can lower their metabolic rate. This means that they require less air and less water and burn less energy. I wouldn’t be surprised if Lorenzo could do that. On the other hand, I’m not sure it would be enough to ensure his survival under these circumstances.”

“You’re not optimistic, Ed.”

“I fear that Lorenzo has reached too far this time.”

“Well, let’s go down to the ground and find out. I can see the orange metallic paint of the car roof, and the crowd is becoming restless.”

“That is one beautiful car.”

Gears moved on the massive cranes and the enormous stainless-steel chains groaned. The car was lifted out of the hole, sand slipping away from it on all sides.

The car was spun slightly—Cassie was sure every move had been choreographed by Lorenzo, and his smile of satisfaction convinced her that she was right—and turned over the crowd.

The car was set down and then brushed off by Ursula and Anna, Lorenzo’s stage assistants. They had enormous feather dusters for this job and took their time, steadily building the suspense.

“Can you stand it?” Stacy whispered, then gave a squeal of anticipation.

On screen, Anna held up her hands, beginning to clap a steady rhythm. The crowd quickly copied her gesture, the sound of their applause almost deafening.

She knocked on the window, as if to awaken Lorenzo from a long sleep.

There was no reply or movement.

She turned to the crowd, spreading her hands as if asking them what to do.

“Open it!” one man roared and the crowd took up the cry.

The announcers were chuckling. “Always the perfect showman,” Ed murmured.

The
Pyr
grinned.

Ursula held up a car key dangling on a ring, one with a Ferrari logo. When the sunlight touched it, the crowd started to cheer. She touched the button to unlock the doors. The car’s lights flashed once.

Encouraged by Anna, the crowd began to chant Lorenzo’s name.

Beside Cassie, the man himself folded his arms across his chest and watched with undisguised satisfaction.

Ursula opened the door on the driver’s side with a flourish, gesturing to the man within.

Then she stumbled backward in such obvious horror that the crowd fell silent. She put her hand over her mouth, obviously gagging.

“Another false alarm, Ed?” the announcer asked, his tone jovial.

“Just part of the show, I’m sure,” Ed replied.

But one camera zoomed in, capturing an image of the man in the driver’s seat.

Who was very, very dead. In fact, he had decomposed to the point that he wasn’t even recognizable as Lorenzo.

But he was wearing the same leather jacket and orange shirt that Lorenzo had worn when he’d been buried in the car.

The
Pyr
gathered in Venice broke into applause.

“Balthasar?” Brandt guessed. “Is that what happened to him?”

Lorenzo just grinned. The announcers were chattering away in their excitement at an unexpected development, but Lorenzo turned off the sound. He stood in front of the television and took a bow, for the greatest disappearing act of his career.

“And now we have a surprise for you,” Erik said.

Cassie enjoyed the sight of Lorenzo’s confusion. “What surprise?”

She went to the sideboard and got his lost scale, the one she’d kept and hidden away from him. She offered it to him on both hands, smiling at the sight of his surprise.

“Erik told me that you need to get it repaired. That’s why they’re all here. That’s why Quinn is here. To fix your armor.”

And she saw that, as much as he might have preferred to hide it, Lorenzo was overwhelmed.

Cassie had surprised him one more time. Lorenzo was honored that she was his partner and knew he could never love another woman the way he adored her.

He hoped she would never stop surprising him.

Quinn murmured satisfaction as he took the scale. He turned it over in his hands, checking it for damage and obviously pleased with what he’d found.

Meanwhile, Cassie pushed the button that closed the drapes. This room had sixteen-foot ceilings and was enormous. Lorenzo knew it had once been a ballroom, with such dimensions. It had a long line of tall windows that opened to a balcony over the canal.