Wicked Burn (19 page)

Bear slowly nodded. “I get that a lot.”

Simone patted Nicholai on the chest, her heart beating so hard her ribs ached. “I’ll be back after dinner, and then we’ll have a nice chat.” She had no problem manipulating a man, but since Flynn was her brother, she couldn’t use her usual arsenal. “Trust me. I can do this,” she whispered.

“I do.” Nick pulled her back around and pressed his mouth against hers, urgency and emotion in his kiss. “Be careful.”

She kissed him back and then sidled around him, not meeting Bear’s eyes. It wasn’t as if there had been any time to tell Nick about the baby, and now she couldn’t do so with the guard listening. He’d probably report right back to Desmond, and that prick could never know about her pregnancy.

Bear moved past her and exchanged a few words with Nick, quickly turning to grasp Simone’s arm and follow her into the hall. She kept her face stoic for the guard’s sake. Bear shut the door and looked down at her, his honey-brown eyes burning.

“I didn’t have a chance to tell him, ah, about my feelings. We looked at the room, then we started kissing, and then you were there.” Simone kept her voice quiet as Bear grabbed a lantern off the ground.

“He deserves to know, about um, how you feel,” Bear rumbled.

“I know.” There was no way to elaborate with the guard trailing them, so she just nodded. “The night is young.” And there was so much to do, damn it.

A sense of urgency pressed in on her as she moved up the stairwell and tried to center herself. Nick was alone in the dungeon, and while he was a hell of a fighter, he couldn’t use his abilities against dragons.

She could control fire, but so could dragons.

The enemy for once actually seemed to have more power than the side she was trying to fight for. She rubbed her belly, fully cognizant of how much she had to lose. Her shoulders went back, and she drew on the fire of her people.

Time to manipulate her brother and hope it didn’t backfire in her face.

Simone smoothed down the wispy green dress. The fine silk drew in over the bodice and smoothed down her hips, ending right above the knee. The color suited her, and with calfskin boots, she felt feminine power course through her.

Not once in her entire life had she apologized for enjoying her femininity. As a witch, she was a badass, and she could dress however she liked.

“Thank you for the clothes,” she murmured to Flynn as they sat in a drawing room.

“You’re lovely,” he returned, lifting his glass of aged whiskey in the air.

“Thank you.” She held her glass, enjoying the scent of the potent brew. “Will Desmond be joining us?”

“Soon. He’s taking care of business right now.”

Perfect. Simone looked around the room. Antique chairs, probably handcrafted, had been placed in several individual groupings, a couple with game tables. Priceless oil paintings lined two of the walls, and an enormous bookcase took up the third, while the final wall was actually a doorway to the dining room. “This is a nice room.”

“There’s a much better library farther into the cliffs. I’ll take you after dinner, if you’d like.” Flynn sipped his drink, his gaze thoughtful. For dinner, he’d thrown on slightly wrinkled black slacks and a white button-down shirt open at the collar.

She forced a smile. “I need to know. How much danger is Bear in if he shifts into a dragon again?”

Flynn’s eyes darkened. “Terrible danger. It’s like forcing a square peg into a wood chipper. His soul is shredded, as is his body. A bear can’t be a dragon, and at some point, his organs will just blow up and kill him.”

“Then he needs to knock it off.” She wouldn’t let Bear harm himself.

“Agreed.” Flynn sighed. “Get to it, Simone. Please.”

She set down her glass. “Get to what?”

“Come on. I wasn’t born yesterday, and Desmond is going to be here soon. Say what you need to say, I’ll say what I need to say, and we’ll move forward from there.” His voice remained low and rough, reminding her of his dragon lineage.

She took a deep breath. “You’re my brother.”

“I surely am.” Although his eyes were black, there was a shimmer, a bluish shimmer in them that was all dragon.

Would she someday have that shimmer? “So help me.”

“I am helping you.”

“How is that?” She lifted her chin.

He leaned forward. “By keeping you from committing treason and getting yourself killed. Well, treason here. You’ve already committed it in the witch nation.”

She ground her back teeth together. “Not really.”

“Yes, really. So here’s the deal. You refrain from attempting any silly rescue of the demon, and we’ll grant you sanctuary on Fire Island for the rest of eternity, if you so desire.”

Fire Island. Catchy name. She sat back. “Sanctuary?”

“Yes. Our sources inform us you’re likely to be found guilty of treason by the Coven Nine, and you’ll be sentenced to death. If you run anywhere on earth, they will find you. However, if you stay here, a place the Nine doesn’t know exists, you will remain safe.” Flynn kept her gaze, no give on his angled face. “Someday you might even be allowed back into the witch nation, once enough time has passed.”

“I can handle my own people and my own future, thank you.” She subtly looked around for any type of weapon, but even the crystal on the bar appeared harmless. “I will not allow Nicholai to be killed for protecting me.”

Flynn shook his head. “The demon killed Roman, and I can’t change that.”

“Sure you could, or maybe Desmond could, since he’s the leader. Your cousin is a bad guy, and you know it.” Simone was going on instinct.

“Desmond is your cousin, too.” Flynn didn’t blink. “I don’t know what you mean disparaging him.”

“Aye. Aye, you do.” She pressed harder. “The servants are afraid of him, and even the soldiers seem nervous when he’s around.”

“Desmond is a tough leader, but he’s fair, and he follows the laws.”

“You need to change the damn laws.” Fire danced down Simone’s arms, and she cradled a plasma ball in her right hand.

Flynn’s lip curved. “Impressive.”

“Thank you. Now, act like a brother and help me.” She abandoned any thought of pretending to be helpless and acted from a position of strength. “You don’t want me for an enemy.”

He smiled full-out then. “Are you threatening me, little sister?”

The condescension got her. She tossed the ball, and it landed on his leg.

He yelped and patted it out, leaving a perfectly round hole in his pants. His flesh glowed a burned red. “Damn it.”

She smiled. “That was a love tap.”

He looked up, his gaze narrowing. “You’re not the only one with fire.” Opening his mouth, he looked up, and fire flew out of his mouth to singe the ceiling.

Simone watched, more than a little impressed. “Okay. We both have fire. But Flynn, you know Desmond isn’t fair.”

The blond servant, the one from the other night, entered the room with a tray of canapes to place on the table. She glanced around, saw it was only the two of them, and visibly relaxed.

Simone took a chance. “You’re afraid of Desmond, aren’t you?”

The blonde’s dark eyes widened. “No. No, not at all.” She backed away, her hands wringing together.

“Stop,” Flynn said quietly.

The woman froze.

“What has he done?” Flynn asked.

“Nothing, sir.” The woman gave a half curtsy and all but ran from the room.

Anger rippled through Simone so fast she swayed. “What the hell is going on here?”

“I’ve only been back a short while after being away for the war.” Flynn’s jaw worked, and a muscle ticked down his neck. “Whatever is going on, I will handle. For now, you need to promise to stay out of the way until Nicholai meets his fate.”

So much for help. Simone stood and towered over her brother. “That woman was scared to death. How have you let this happen?”

Flynn stood so suddenly, she had to step back. Anger etched into the fine lines of his face. Now he towered over her by at least a foot. “I’ve been away since Desmond took over, working overseas, and I’ve only been back a week. You can trust me that I’ll find out what’s going on.”

“I don’t trust you worth rubbish,” she spat, jumping up.

“In this matter, you don’t really have a choice.” He ran a hand through his dark hair. “I don’t want to contain you in the family private suite, but I will if you don’t agree to stay out of the way tomorrow morning.”

Simone gaped at him. “You want me to just stand by and watch you kill my, my, well, Nick?”

Flynn nodded.

“Who will do it? You?” she asked, her hands clenching with the need to throw more fire.

“Aye. I’m the one who will ultimately carry out the sentence,” Flynn said, his gaze somber but no less intense.

“He’ll fight you,” Simone said, her chin lifting.

“I hope so.” Flynn’s shoulders drew back. “It wouldn’t be fair to just cut off his head. But you know that demons can’t mind attack dragons, right?”

Simone froze. “Maybe that has changed.”

“I doubt it. Dragon minds are impregnable. Well, except by mates.”

Nick had played in her brain, hadn’t he? And they weren’t mated. “What if you open your mental shields?” She’d always been able to visualize shields in her head. Must be her dragon side.

“Sure. You can always open yourself up for attack.” Flynn frowned. “I don’t plan to do so with your lover.”

“So dragons can defend against a mind attack but truly can’t perpetrate one,” she said slowly.

“No. Which is why a dragon can never mate with a demon. The hybrid that was born years ago was able to destroy minds without even meaning to do so.” Flynn glanced at a worn watch around his wrist. “Desmond should be here soon.”

Simone’s throat closed. “Flynn, you have to help me. Nick was just protecting me when Roman tried to harm me. You can’t follow through with a death sentence. Excommunicate me instead.”

“But you didn’t kill our father.”

“No, but if there needs to be punishment, let me take it.” As long as they didn’t try to cut off her head. If they tried, she’d fight and burn their asses.

“No.”

“Surely it’s okay to kill a dragon in self-defense.” She reached out and grasped his hand. “That’s what really happened.”

Sympathy twisted his lip. “It’s too late to matter, sister. I’m sorry.” He flipped his hand around to grasp hers. “Now, tell me what the plan is. I know there has to be one.”

She looked him right in the eye. “If there is an escape plan, I have no clue what it is.”

He studied her, his eyes darkening. “You really don’t know.”

“No.” She allowed her shoulders to slump. “I’m afraid there isn’t a good plan.” Hell, that was the truth, so it should convince him. “I need your help, and you know it. Please.”

His dark eyebrows slashed down. “Nicholai Veis is a demon, and if you want to someday rule the Nine, even if it’s centuries from now, then you can’t be mated to a demon. I’m trying to save you from yourself here.”

“Fuck you,” Simone said evenly. “I’m a grown woman who can save herself, you asshat.” It was a good insult she’d learned from the queen of the Realm. “I require your assistance in saving Nicholai only.”

Desmond strolled into the room from the dining area. “That is not going to happen.” He took Simone’s glass and tipped back the whiskey. “Well? What’s the plan?”

Flynn sighed. “If there is a plan, she doesn’t know it.”

Betrayal coated her throat like acid. She swallowed bile and tried not to throw up. “You bastard,” she muttered.

“Actually a true statement,” Flynn said.

So Flynn had been trying to get information from her while she had been trying to manipulate him into helping her. They were quite a pair, weren’t they? “I hope I don’t have to kill you,” she said to her brother.

He nodded. “I hope so, too.”

The unconcerned note in his voice made her want to burn him from head to toe, right then and there. Then she’d have to take on Desmond, too, and first she needed to find Bear. “I’m suddenly not hungry.”

“Too bad,” Desmond said, looking around. “Where in the world is Beau—”

“I’m here and starving.” Bear loped into the room.

Desmond looked his way and grimaced. “You could’ve changed for supper.”

Bear glanced down at his faded jeans and worn T-shirt. “These are clean. What’s wrong with them?”

Desmond rolled his eyes. “There are several suits in your size in the closet of the rooms you were assigned an hour ago, and I know this because I put them there.”

“Dude. Do I look like I wear suits?” Bear asked, sniffing the air. “Is that aged whiskey?”

“Those who don’t wear suits don’t get the good whiskey,” Desmond said.

Bear frowned. “That sucks.”

Simone shoved down a scream of frustration. They were chatting about booze and clothes while still intending to murder Nicholai the next day? She had to figure out a way to save him.

Simone frowned at Bear, wondering what the plan would be without Flynn. In fact, Flynn had set her up, expressing the same sentiment about her future with a demon that Bear had earlier. Her frown deepened, and she squinted her eyes. Could she really trust Bear?

“What?” Bear asked, rubbing his square jawline. “Is there something on my face?”

There was about to be a ball of fire in his hair. She’d never really been able to count on a man, and now was probably a bad time to try. “No. Shall we eat?” she murmured. At least in the dining room there would be knives.

“Not yet,” Desmond said, turning to face Bear. “I’d like to know where you’ve been the last hour.”

Bear shrugged. “Exploring the fortress. I haven’t been here for a hundred years, as you know. It’s totally the same.”

“Hmmm. Exploring?” Desmond asked.

“Yep.” Bear tucked his thumbs in his jean pockets, his stance casual. “You could use an update here and there, cousin.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Desmond gave Flynn some weird head bob. “I’d like to know what you and the demon have planned for your pointless resistance to the law.”

Bear snorted. “You think I’m planning something with the demon?”

Flynn drew out a double-edged blade. “We know you’re planning something with the demon. You risked your life to turn into a dragon and bring him here, Bear.”

“Yeah. I brought him here because you had Simone, and I was afraid she’d confess to killing our father, which I thought she had.” Bear scratched his chin, eyeing the knife. “So I pretty much delivered the real killer to you. You’re welcome.”

Flynn twirled the knife. “Don’t you want to avenge our father’s death?” Emotion darkened his voice.

Bear shrugged. “I would’ve killed Roman myself in a few years, anyway. The guy was a prick.”

“He was an excellent ruler,” Desmond shouted, his face turning red.

Simone took a step back in case she needed to throw fire to protect Bear.

He mirrored her movement. “If you say so. All I remember is people being scared to death of the guy. And he hit a lot.”

Desmond growled. “That’s because you’re a moron.”

“Think so?” Bear asked silkily.

“Yes.” Desmond apparently missed the threat that had just surfaced in his cousin.

Simone did not. She tensed in preparation for a fight.

Desmond reached inside his jacket and drew out a green gun. “I know Flynn wants to slice you open, but I’d rather just shoot you in the head.”

Bear growled. “Now, that’s just not nice, cousin.”

“Last time,” Desmond said. “Tell me what your plan with the demon is, or I start with the kneecaps and work my way up to your brain.”

Simone gathered the fire inside her and prepared to strike.