Breath of Fire (15 page)

“Wow, Noah, that’s pretty open-minded of you,” I said, a little peeved that there wasn’t the slightest bit of jealousy in his tone. The Prophecy dictated lives and futures, but not emotions. It was important to keep that in perspective.

He laughed, resentment clouding his voice. “Believe me, Rena, I don’t like it one bit. Every time I see his hands on you my vision goes red. I want him dead. But I don’t have a choice. And neither do you. Just finish up whatever it is you need to do and stay safe, okay?”

“Kiss my ass,” I said sweetly. As far as I was concerned at that point all men and dragons could burn in hell.

“Seriously, Rena. Call me again tomorrow. Just so I know you’re all right. Your safety is all that matters. We can fight later.”

“Whatever you say.”

“Rena.” My name was a sigh on his lips, and I felt bad for being such a bitch to him. None of this was really his fault.

“Think of me,” he said and disconnected.

I still held the cell phone to my ear, listening to the empty distance between us. I turned it off in defiance and dropped it back in my purse. My life had taken a decidedly weird turn somewhere along the way.

I needed to clear my mind, to think of some way I could defeat Julian and get what I wanted without dying in the process. I opened the dresser drawer and grabbed one of the nightgowns I’d brought with me and headed into the bathroom. I laid my clothes on the counter and piled my hair up on the top of my head and secured it with a clip.

The bathroom mirrored the bedroom in decoration. Black marble veined with streaks of white dominated the room. The faucets were gold and delicately curved—the towels blood red as they draped over the towel rods like a sacrifice.

Hot water poured from the faucet as it filled the tub, and I added perfumed bath salts into the water, watching them dissolve into cloudy bubbles. I slid into decadence as the steam rose around me and fogged all of the mirrors. The heat felt like heaven against my weary body, and my inner dragon writhed with pleasure against my skin.

I nodded off a couple of times before I realized the water had turned cold. I pulled the drain and climbed limply out of the tub, my bones practically liquid with exhaustion. I dried off quickly and rubbed scented cream over my body. I slipped the thin nightgown the color of violets over my head and shivered at the coolness of the silk.

I’d only been thinking of falling face first into the bed when I walked back into the bedroom, so it took me a minute to realize something wasn’t quite right. Dozens of tapered candles glowed from candelabra around the room. Champagne chilled in a bucket next to the bed. A glass flute sat on the nightstand, filled with a liquid full of fresh bubbles. I looked at the door and saw it was still locked. Not that something as flimsy as a lock could keep Julian out. I’d learned that lesson at the hotel.

The black peignoir I’d admired lay across the bed, and my pulse sped with yearning. It was all but transparent with straps that tied into bows at each shoulder and a plunging neckline. On top of the nightgown lay a single red rose.

My breath exhaled nervously as I thought of the vision Noah had seen. Surely it wouldn’t be tonight. I had more willpower than that. I was determined for Noah to be wrong. He had to be wrong.

I grabbed Julian’s not-so-subtle gift and took it to the window. The material was impossibly soft and delicate as I clutched it between my fingers. I opened the window, relishing the icy cold wind that allowed my mind to snap out of its sexual haze. I let go. The gown fluttered down three stories onto the garden below.

I snapped the window closed and walked over to my dresser, stripping off the nightie I’d put on after my bath. I dug through the drawer until I found the most chaste gown I’d packed—a high-collared white nightgown that fell all the way to my ankles. I was going to be hot as hell all night long, but at least I felt a little more protected from Julian’s gaze.

I turned around and spoke to the room at large. “I am not one of your ‘monsters’ to command, Julian. I am the Enforcer, and it would do you well to remember it. You will answer all of my questions eventually. And so help you gods if you really are the Destroyer. Because I will kill you.”

The laughter in my mind slithered up my spine like a caress.

“Sweet dreams.”

And then the voice was gone, and I knew I was alone again.

I was far from tired, but I went over to the bed and pulled back the covers, knowing I was going to be sweltering under so many layers all night. I got into bed and punched my pillow a couple of times for good measure before closing my eyes and ordering my body to relax. I realized I hadn’t bothered to blow out the candles as soon as I saw the soft flicker of lights behind my eyelids.

“Son of a bitch.” I pulled back the covers to get out of bed and blow out the candles when the room went dark. The smell of wax and smoke lay heavy in the air. I waited to feel Julian’s presence, but there was nothing.

I closed my eyes and tried my hardest to think of anything but Julian.

Chapter Thirteen

I finally found sleep as the grey light of dawn began to creep through the windows. It wasn’t long after when the dream began.

The blood-red throne at the head of the great room was still impressive in size. The chandeliers weren’t lit, but there was light coming from somewhere because I could see the throne clearly, even though the rest of the room tapered off into nothingness.

My dreams were always real, but something about this one was even more so.

I wore my white nightgown, and the black granite was cold beneath my bare feet as I walked into the room. I practically floated up the small set of stairs that led to the throne, and I ran my fingers across the soft red velvet.

They came away smeared with blood. Hot, like only freshly spilled blood could be. Now that I’d touched it, the sweet coppery smell was unmistakable, and my mouth watered with need. I jerked my hand away and wiped my fingers on my gown—the stain bright crimson against the snowy white fabric.

“Your true powers are alive in your dreams. Why would you not make them just as potent while you are awake?” a seductive voice asked from the shadows. “Your humanness stifles your dragon. Your need to feel all the things they do is making you weak.”

I searched for the voice. Julian walked straight out of the wall—more than a shadow, more than a man. Just his presence awakened things inside me I wasn’t aware of. The need to run my fingers across the blood once more and rub them across my lips was as tempting as any aphrodisiac. I could see my wants mirrored in Julian’s eyes.

“Denying your beast will eventually wither every part of you, human and dragon. Open yourself and accept what you really are. Leave your humanity behind and let your dragon take control. You’ve been fighting her when she should be your greatest ally. What does your beast want?”

I screamed inside my head. I didn’t want to be more monster than human. I didn’t want to be like Alasdair or Calista. Or like Julian. The added power of leaving my humanity behind wasn’t worth the price I’d have to pay.

As far as what my beast wanted, I didn’t have an answer. I could feel her thoughts as if they were mine, and I was terrified because at the center of everything she coveted, there was only Julian. My beast wanted him.

I shoved my dragon away and got myself under control. I changed the subject and asked, “What are you doing here?”

“This is my dream. I can go where I please,” he said arrogantly. “I invited you, and you accepted my invitation. There is something between us, Rena. A connection. I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist me for long.”

I shivered at the thought of how closely Julian’s words had mirrored Noah’s. “Your ego leaves something to be desired. I still have my free will, no matter how much you wish it otherwise in your dream.”

“I like to believe that the gods have brought you here for a reason. It’s up to you whether or not you seek the reason out. Now, I asked you a question. You have halted the growth of your powers by closing off your natural-born instincts in your need to feel more human. Your emotional state when awake is what holds you back. Only in your dreams can you truly be the dragon you were meant to be. Why would you make yourself less, when you could be so much more?”

“There’s nothing wrong with wanting to have human emotions,” I said before I could stop myself. “And when I’m awake, I’m the one who’s in control of them. I like being in control.”

“Ahh, yes, I’ve noticed this about you. Like this ugly nightgown you are wearing. It is just to prove a point, no? To prove that you have the strength to stand against me?”

“You seem to be missing the point of how my decisions have nothing to do with you.”

“Hmm,” he said, his gaze raking over my body. “I think you must not realize your appeal. All of that sexy hair. Skin the color of gold dust. Long legs that beg for a man to wrap them around his waist, and a stubborn chin that had rather take a punch than back down. And then there’s your eyes. They’re like black fire, and I long to see how they’ll look as I’m buried inside you.”

Dragons weren’t self-conscious by nature, and we never backed away from lust as long as the feelings were mutual. But I felt the urge to cover myself, even though I knew I was perfectly decent.

“Ahh, but you aren’t, my sweet. That chaste gown is as transparent as the naughtiest lingerie. But still, I believe I prefer my choice. Don’t you?”

I felt the whisper against my skin, just as when he’d changed my clothes before dinner. Only this time I was afraid to look down. I could already tell there was much less there than had been before.

“You’re wasting time with parlor tricks, Julian. We have many things to talk about.”

I took my seat on the throne. The blood was gone, and only the softness of the velvet touched my skin. I noticed the wisp of smoke curl out of Julian’s nostril and knew he was irritated that I’d taken his place of power. Good. That made us even. Because I was furious with him.

I crossed my legs. There were slits up both sides of the gown all the way to the hips, and he took a step toward me before he could stop himself.

“I don’t think my throne suits you, Rena. I had something a little more—primitive in mind for you.”

“Chains in the dungeon, no doubt.”

“Never. I was thinking more along the lines of this.”

He nodded his head to the space next to me and another throne appeared out of thin air. A smaller version of his, just as plush and ornate. Just as ancient. But a lady’s chair.

“I would have you rule at my side,” he said. “Think of how powerful we could be.”

“I don’t know, Julian. I don’t think you’ll be very comfortable there. It looks a bit small.”

He threw his head back and laughed, a full-bellied laugh that echoed off the walls and sent tingles low in my stomach. He looked surprised at the sound.

“You’re right,” he said. “This is much more suitable to us.”

He snapped his fingers and both thrones were gone. In their place was a bed the size of a lake. I was lying in the middle of it.

This was not like any bed I’d ever seen. It put the one in my room to shame. This was a carnal bed, a bed for vices and wicked things. Things I was desperately trying not to think of.

“You’re a bad man, Julian. How are we supposed to speak of important matters when it is obvious your mind is elsewhere?”

He gave me a smoldering look, and I felt his power slowly creep around my body so it held me in a loose embrace. His dark hair was unbound around his shoulders and his clothes changed before my eyes. Gone was the suit he’d been wearing at dinner and in its place was a pair of black lounging pajamas. His chest was bared, so I had a beautiful view of hard ridges of muscles that rippled across his chest and down his stomach. He was broad and smooth, and I longed to run my hands over him. My hand moved toward him instinctively, but I jerked it back just in time.

“You look good for your age,” I said with false bravado. I was losing the battle and he knew it.

His eyes crinkled at the corners in silent laughter, and he stalked toward the bed—a dragon on the hunt.

“So what should I get for answering your questions?” he asked. “I’m an expert at negotiations.” His accent was thick and his breathing heavy.

“You’ve had many years of practice.” I closed my eyes against the onslaught of his power. It felt as though his hands were already touching me. They started at the pulse in my neck and slowly skimmed downward toward my breasts. My nipples hardened under his invisible touch and a moan escaped my lips.

“What do you propose?” he asked, reverting to the old tongue.

The bed dipped down and I opened my eyes. He crawled toward me, and his muscles flexed with every movement that brought him closer. I couldn’t remember my own name, much less think of why I’d gotten on a plane and ended up in Belgium.

“Come now,
chérie
, surely you can think of something worthwhile.”

He was too close. I couldn’t breathe. He reached down to touch me just as I got my brain back under control. I knew I wasn’t ready for any kind of contact. Just our hands touching was enough to make me lose control of every power I had. I scrambled off the bed in a hurry, all sense of decorum forgotten, and left him lounging in satisfied male pride.