Rion (6 page)

“Exactly. The transponder’s activation just confirmed my vision might already be coming true. I have to get home. The sooner
the better.”

“You still don’t have proof,” she insisted softly. “Maybe a design flaw set off the transponder.”

“That’s unlikely.”

“But if the Tribes jammed all communications, and Phen is on Tor, how does he know what’s happening on your world?”

“Phen’s resourceful. If anyone can find a way to stay in touch, it’ll be him.” Rion swiped a hand over his face. Clearly his
vision and the transponder’s emergency signal weren’t enough proof to convince Marisa of the coming disaster.

Tamping down his sense of urgency, he forced himself to move slowly. He shifted to the side and pulled Marisa into his arms
until he was close enough to see her eyes sparkle. Ever so delicately, her nostrils flared, encouraging him closer, until
he was breathing in her crisp strawberry scent.

She placed a hand on his chest. “You’re thinking about kissing me again.”

“Oh, yeah.” He allowed a slight smile to play over his mouth.

“Good.” She grinned saucily. “Because for a minute back there I thought that overloaded circuit must have fried your brain.
But now I can see you’re back to normal.”

She lifted her head, and their eyes met and locked. Her pupils dilated, and a rosy flush rose up her neck.

He slid his hand to her nape, and a soft tendril of her hair tickled his wrist. Tingling with anticipation, he wanted to get
her naked all over again and finish making love.

And yet he needn’t go that far. Satisfying his own needs wasn’t really necessary. But there was nothing wrong with satisfying
his lust, either.

Angling his head, he looked straight into her eyes. And while his fingers delved into her hair, he brought her closer. Close
enough to breathe in her sweet exhalation.

He dropped his head until his lips were within an inch of hers. Catching a dangling tendril of hair between his thumb and
forefinger, he played with it, grazing her cheek, her neck, her ear with his fingertips.

“Stop. That tickles.”

“Whatever you say.” But he swirled the curl around his finger, watched the pulse in her neck leap.

Her lips softened. “Quit playing around. Are you certain you don’t need a doctor?”

“Yes.” Nuzzling aside her hair, he whispered in her ear. “And I’m not playing. How about dinner?”

She blinked, licked her bottom lip, and frowned. “Dinner?”

“You know, when two people sit down together for a meal, share a bottle of wine, and talk over food,” he teased. “How about
tomorrow night?” He’d have suggested something sooner, like breakfast, but he couldn’t arrange everything that quickly.

Her gorgeous eyes sparkled with happy confusion. “You’re asking me out?”

“We’d have food. Good food. And excellent wine.” He wriggled his eyebrows. “And then for dessert, I’m going to kiss you again.
Only this time I won’t be rushed.”

Turning, she placed her hand on his shoulder, slid her palm up his neck, and slipped her fingers into his hair. “I like to
have my dessert first,” she said with a breathy sigh. “That way, we won’t be losing sleep wondering…”

He didn’t know about the not-losing-sleep part, but he wasn’t arguing. He’d given being noble a shot. This was her choice.
She was offering her sweet mouth to him. And she tasted smooth and rich and heady, kissing with a red-hot heat that almost
succeeded in driving his mission from his mind.

A pounding on the door broke them apart. “Marisa!” The hard edge in Lucan’s voice shot her scrambling to her feet.

Rion swore under his breath.

Lips bee-stung from Rion’s kisses, she flung open the door. “What’s wrong?”

Lucan, still in a dark suit, black shirt, and white tie, burst into the room. “Marisa, we need you. The dragonshapers are
going wild.”

Relief washed over Rion. He didn’t want to have to deal with an angry Lucan.

“What are you talking about?” she asked Lucan.

He tugged his sister into the hallway and kept walking. “The females are drawing blood over food. The males have gone berserk.
They’re biting and clawing and ripping one another apart to get to the females.”

“I don’t understand,” Marisa muttered, hurrying to keep up with her brother’s longer stride. “This has never happened before.”

“Hurry. You have to calm them down before the guards shoot them out of the sky or they kill one another.”

Beware the man with the gift of sight, for knowledge is a dangerous thing.

—H
IGH
P
RIESTESS OF
A
VALON

A
ccording to Marisa’s schedule board, the crowded sky should have been empty. But overhead, dragons bellowed fire, their mighty
wings maneuvering them to take tactical advantage of deadly claws and razor-sharp teeth.

Marisa stood beside Rion on the university’s grass field, trembling with the effort of sending her telepathic message to over
a dozen dragons.
No biting. No fighting.

Lust blasted her through the telepathic link. Primal fury ricocheted down the connection. With three giant males fighting
over one female, blood dripped from beaks, claws, and necks.

So far, the guards had refrained from shooting the dragons with tranqs, but their trigger fingers were ready, the weapons
aimed. Marisa spoke to the guards over the radio. “Stand down. I’ll deal with them.”

The guards lowered their weapons but remained alert. Wary.

Marisa turned her attention back to the dragons.
Calm yourselves. Control the primal urges. You are dragons, but you are also human.

To her right, four females battled. This time over turf and platinum pellets. The females were about Marisa’s age but they
outweighed her by twenty tons.

Share the platinum. There’s enough for all.

Marisa kept her messages short and simple. In dragon form, their brains were primitive, and more complicated thoughts became
difficult to process. At least the females sheathed their claws.

But the males flew straight up, then engaged in a deadly air battle filled with squawks of pain, flapping wings, and bellows
of fury. They weren’t listening to her. She wasn’t getting through.

Two dragons shot fire at each other, and the air reeked of burned flesh and roars of rage. If Marisa didn’t stop them, the
dragons were going to kill each other.

Stop it. Stop. Stop.

The male dragons broke apart. Had her own fear gotten through? Relief filled her.

But then three males dived straight at Marisa, their deadly mass targeting her.

No.

She held up her hand, signaling the guards to hold. At the same time, she closed her eyes as the dragons flew at her in attack
formation.
I am your friend. Friend. Friend.

As a huge roar rolled like thunder across the sky, she opened her eyes and gasped. The largest dragon she’d ever seen had
placed his body between the three angry males and Marisa.

She recognized the clothes on the ground beside the massive dragon. That dragon was Rion. He’d dragonshaped. And now, rearing
up on his hind legs, he trumpeted his fury.

But even with his tremendous wings and fierce bellow, he couldn’t defeat three blood-hungry dragons. Not if he stayed rooted
to the ground. An easy target.

Fly.
She shot him a message.

Not leaving you.

The guards fired tranqs at the three attacking males. And missed. Their darts fell short, unable to reach the dragons barreling
down on them. No way could Rion stop them; it was like a semi-truck trying to stop a freight train.

While the guards reloaded, Marisa pleaded with Rion.
If you don’t fly, you’ll die. We’ll both die.

Rion roared fire, his flames flaring across the sky in bright reds and fiery oranges, singeing the attacking trio.

Fear sliced Marisa until she trembled with it.
Fear. Fear. Fear.

Just as the guards fired again, one of the attacking dragons swerved right, the other left. The third pulled up short, tumbled.

Thank God. They’d broken off the attack.

Still shaking, her fear easing, she sent soothing praise.
Good work. You did well. We don’t fight. We are friends.

Marisa sighed with relief. “That was close.”

“Too close.” Rion humanshaped and tugged on the clothes he’d left behind.

She flung herself into his arms. “You idiot. You could have died.”

His arms closed around her, warm and powerful. She felt safe as he gathered her close and murmured, “You’re shaking.”

She stared at Rion, marveling that she hadn’t been roasted alive, that he’d risked his life to save hers. “If you hadn’t been
here…”

He placed an arm over her shoulders. In the distance a dragon roared. With a puzzled glance at the dragon, Rion removed his
arm from her shoulder. “You would have found another way to calm them. That’s some skill you have.”

While she appreciated his admiration, she immediately missed his touch. “I still don’t understand what set them off.”

“I have a theory.”

Several of Marisa’s team members approached, their faces filled with awe and fear. “Ma’am, we need you.”

“I’ll be right there.” Wishing she didn’t have to work, Marisa turned to Rion. “I have to give instructions and fill out reports.”

Rion nodded, his tone warm and understanding. “I’ll see you later.”

Marisa arrived back at the hotel to find Rion had left her a message, saying he’d take her to dinner tomorrow at someplace
casual. After being up all night, Marisa slept most of the day. When she woke at six, she showered, then dressed comfortably
in jeans, layered tank tops, and a soft jacket.

She took extra time with her hair and makeup. Humming happily, eager to see Rion again, she remembered his sexy kiss, his
sexier touch. How he’d saved her life—by risking his own. She was so looking forward to seeing him again.

Sure her hormones were in overdrive, their chemistry amazing. But he’d shared so much with her, talking about his family,
his past, his flashes.

Reminding herself she still didn’t know him that well did no good. Her hopes were high. She hadn’t felt so filled with eager
anticipation in years.

At exactly seven, Rion knocked at her hotel room door and handed her a bouquet of stargazer lilies. Dressed in jeans and a
black V-necked T-shirt, he looked sexier than ever.

“Hi.” His greeting was casual, but his gray eyes reminded her of thunderclouds filled with heat lightning.

Surprised to find herself slightly uncomfortable under his intense gaze, she dipped her face into the flowers and breathed
in one of her favorite scents. “Thanks.”

On street level, a rental car with a driver and a huge picnic basket on the front passenger seat awaited them. Wonderful aromas
wafted through the vehicle, and she appreciated that Rion had planned a romantic evening for them.

The car took them to the London Victoria railway station. After less than an hour’s train ride, they were back in another
car with another driver. Having lived in England only a few months, Marisa didn’t know British geography that well. But when
she glanced out the window and saw the Salisbury sign, she looked at Rion in surprise. “We’re picnicking at Stonehenge?”

“I have special permission.”

Marisa was impressed. The ancient site was a political hot potato, and until the United Nations decided who should gain admission,
no one was supposed to be allowed near it.

The car stopped. Rion retrieved the basket of food and escorted her from the parking lot to Stonehenge. As they walked the
path toward the site, the megalithic stones towered out of the rolling hillside.

As she stood staring at the site, she had no difficulty imagining primitive people coming here to worship, thanking their
gods for the end of winter or celebrating the spring planting or autumn harvest. However, the idea of people using Stonehenge
as a spaceport thousands of years ago seemed like something out of a science-fiction movie.

When she and Rion reached a grass knoll, he stopped, pulled a green-checkered cloth from the enormous basket, and floated
it over the ground. “I was hoping we’d arrive in time to watch the sunset.”

For an instant, a bird with outspread wings was silhouetted against the setting sun, and Marisa wondered if Merlin, Cael’s
owl, had followed them, but she dismissed the possibility. England had thousands of owls.

She gazed across the open fields. The tourist buses were long gone. She didn’t see any guards, although how Rion had arranged
that she wasn’t sure she wanted to know. With the sun setting, they seemed alone here—except for the ghosts of ancient Druids
and the shadows of knights from ages long past.

He uncorked a bottle of Merlot. “Have the dragons all calmed?”

“Yes.” She held two glasses, and he poured. “But I still don’t understand what set them off.”

“You did.” He tipped his glass to her.

“Me? It’s my job to settle the dragons. How would I set them off?”