Authors: Deborah Cooke
“My father believed that his love for my mother made him stronger,” Quinn said. “Or maybe it was her love for him that was the charm.”
“But how can that be? If you're vulnerable like this⦔ Sara choked on her words and looked down at the scale, feeling powerless and not knowing what to do. The pregnancy hormones took over, making her eyes fill with tears.
“I'm stronger, because of you.”
She looked up and the first tear fell. To her surprise, Quinn touched her cheek with infinite tenderness. That first tear fell on his talon. He transferred the glistening bead to the scale she held.
It sizzled and Sara saw the edge of the iron waver and glow, exactly the way that Quinn glowed before he transformed from man to dragon.
Was it instinct or intuition or plain old logic that told her what to do next? Sara would never really be sure, but she reached up and put that makeshift scale in place. She heard the sizzle of her tear against Quinn's skin and saw him draw up, as if he felt a pang.
The scale looked black and wrong, even though it was attached.
But they had only allowed for three elements.
Air was left.
Sara reached up and kissed the scale, letting her love for Quinn flow through her touch. Then she whispered the words, fanning the scale with her breath. “I love you, Quinn Tyrrell,” she said, then said it again. She touched her lips to the scale once more.
The scale shimmered as she lifted her head, as if it were lit by an inner fire or as if it had just come from the forge. Its light became brighter and brighter, until Sara had to close her eyes.
When she looked again, that one scale might have been made of polished sterling. It shone brilliantly, like a badge of honor upon Quinn's chest.
Four elements, present and accounted for.
Four elements, healing a
Pyr
as readily as they could destroy him. By working together, she and Quinn had done it!
Quinn threw back his head and bellowed, a sound of jubilation and pride that made Sara's heart sing and the floor of the shop vibrate.
She laughed as he shifted back to human form before her eyes. Then he caught her in his arms and swung her around, as happy as she had ever seen him. She pushed away his shirt and examined his chest. He had a freckle there that he hadn't had before, but when Sara looked closely at it, it had a silvery gleam.
Sara pressed her lips to it as Quinn held her close. “I love you,” he said and she smiled up at him.
“I know. And I'm pregnant.”
Joy lit his eyes, turning them an even more brilliant hue of sapphire. Quinn bent to kiss her but just before his lips touched hers, Donovan knocked loudly on the door of the shop.
“These are fine pieces of equipment,” he announced, waving the gloves at Quinn. “You're going to be busy, Quinn: once everyone sees these babies at the eclipse, they're going to want their own set.” Donovan pulled on the gloves and shadow-fought in the shop. “I'll be showing them how it's done.”
“Maybe you'll be busy with your own firestorm,” Quinn said and Donovan snorted.
“Be serious. I'm never going to have a firestorm and that's just fine by me. It should be Rafferty. He's been waiting long enough.”
But Sara met Quinn's gaze. She had a feeling that Donovan was wrong, and she was the Seer. Quinn obviously read her thoughts because he smiled that languorous smile, the one that was far more powerful than a firestorm.
“No secret jokes,” Donovan complained. “Let's go: we're going to be late for the big moon show.”
“One more thing,” Quinn said quietly. “There's another present to share.”
“For me?” Donovan asked.
“No.” Quinn's tone was dismissive. “Wait for us outside.”
“More lovers' secrets,” Donovan groused, but he did what he was told.
Sara was more interested in the gleam in Quinn's eyes. He got another box from the shelf and handed it to her. “So in the course of these discussions with the Wyvern, I asked her a question,” he said, his voice so low that it gave Sara shivers. “And she sent me a dream.”
Sara opened the box and caught her breath. There was an acorn inside, all by itself. She remembered what she had told the Wyvern about her own dreams, and met the conviction in Quinn's gaze.
“Want to plant it here?”
“I know just the spot,” Sara said, and Quinn laughed.
“Of course you do,” he teased. “It's your job as the Seer to know things like that.”
But what Sara saw when Quinn kissed her was a future together, years that were never dull, given the comings and goings of the
Pyr
. She saw appliances that seemed to start themselves and a ghost that shared her opinions and books on impossible things that proved to be possible in the end. She saw Quinn, with silver in his hair, and a son, tall and strong, with dark hair and very blue eyes.
It was a vision of her own future that was a perfect fit.
Just perfect.
Deborah Cooke
has always been fascinated by dragons, although she has never understood why they have to be the bad guys. She has an honors degree in history with a focus on medieval studies and is an avid reader of medieval vernacular literature, fairy tales, and fantasy novels. Since 1992, Deborah has written more than thirty romance novels under the names Claire Cross and Claire Delacroix.
Deborah makes her home in Canada with her husband. When she isn't writing, she can be found knitting, sewing, or hunting for vintage patterns. To learn more about the Dragonfire series and Deborah, please visit her Web site, www.deborahcooke.com; to access her blog, Alive & Knitting, go to www.delacroix.net/blog.