Then what was?
What had prompted her to take such a risk? He really wanted to know.
“What kind of a job?” he asked, keeping his tone light.
“Reporting. International news.” She kept her gaze averted. “What I used to do.”
“Melissa Smith,” Rafferty mused, realizing only now why she looked familiar. It had been years since she’d been on the news broadcast. “I remember you. You did special reports from Jerusalem and Damascus.”
“Beirut and Baghdad,” she agreed with a nod. “Once upon a time.” She seemed thoughtful.
He remembered also that she had disappeared suddenly from the newscast. He’d assumed she’d fallen in love, gotten married, started a family. She was young and attractive, after all. He suspected now, though, that that wasn’t her story. He’d seen her home. If she didn’t live there alone, then he was a
Slayer
.
Rafferty kept his tone neutral, the persistent niggle of the firestorm turning his thoughts in predictable directions. He was aware of the curve of Melissa’s neck, the delicacy of her ears, the femininity of her small hands clutching his coat closed. He was taunted by that damn perfume, his body responding readily to its promise.
He fought to stay on the track of their conversation. “If you wanted to keep doing that, why didn’t you just keep the job you had?”
She shrugged, and he knew she wouldn’t tell him the truth. “Life happened. Things changed.” Her tone turned fierce. “I just want them to change back.”
Rafferty decided to push her a bit. That this woman, with her poise and protective barriers, was so obviously trying to evade his questions, was a hint that he was getting close to an important detail. “So, you broke into Magnus Montmorency’s house and stole from him.”
To his surprise, she smiled easily at him. “I didn’t notice him inviting you in for a coffee.”
“That’s different.”
“How so? You still entered his house without his consent. Looks the same to me. Probably would to a lawyer, too.”
“I didn’t steal anything, though.”
“No, you just trashed his foyer, beat him up, and burned his rug.” She regarded him with humor in her eyes. “You’re not looking so innocent yourself, Mr. Conscience.”
“Rafferty,” he said, realizing his omission. “Rafferty Powell.”
She murmured his name, and Rafferty was stunned by how much he enjoyed hearing her say it.
Then she gave him a hard look. “How is it different, Mr. Powell?”
“Rafferty,” he corrected. “It’s different because Magnus and I have a blood feud.”
She halted in the middle of a group of pines and turned to face him, the scent of the trees tickling Rafferty’s nose. “A blood feud? How medieval is that?” She eyed him when he didn’t answer her. “What exactly does that mean? Are you going to kill him?”
“Unless he kills me first.”
“But that’s murder. You’ll go to jail!”
Rafferty smiled. “And what jail would hold me?”
She frowned, her gaze dancing over him, then pivoted and started to walk quickly in the direction she’d already chosen. They cleared the trees, and there was only frozen ground between them and a busy street. “What about my house?” she asked. “You couldn’t leave it. I saw you try.”
Rafferty hesitated. He was telling her far more than he had intended, but he sensed they might somehow become allies in this. It was his firestorm. There had to be at least a chance of their making a permanent relationship.
He wouldn’t be that skeptical of the Great Wyvern’s intent.
He wouldn’t even consider that darkfire could change that much.
He dared to hope.
Rafferty spoke with care. “Your house had been surrounded by dragonsmoke, breathed by Magnus and his minion.”
“Dragonsmoke?”
“It’s a boundary mark, one that traditionally could be crossed only by the one who breathed it and/or any other
Pyr
explicitly granted permission to do so. We’ve used it to protect hoards and treasures for millennia. Humans cannot see it and are not affected by its presence. Particularly sensitive humans may feel a slight chill in stepping through it, but that’s it.”
“Traditionally?” she echoed, glancing at him again. “What’s changed?”
He didn’t tell her that everything had changed; that the darkfire between them was foretold to completely turn the world of the
Pyr
upside down. That could wait. “Magnus and his fellows can cut dragonsmoke and move through it, even without permission. It offers no obstacle to them.”
“So, you couldn’t even keep him in jail with dragonsmoke.”
“No.” Why was she interested in Magnus going to jail? She trudged onward, and Rafferty thought about what she’d said. “Is this your goal, then? To see Magnus in jail?”
Her eyes were filled with conviction. “I want to see justice prevail. I want to see him punished for what he’s done.”
“And what are his crimes?”
“Don’t you know?” She turned to face him on the sidewalk, a steady stream of cars moving past them on the roadway. There was a cluster of shops about two blocks away, but they were the only pedestrians. “I mean, you must have a reason to have a blood feud with him. Or do you dragon men do that all the time?”
“
Pyr
,” Rafferty supplied. “We call ourselves the
Pyr
.”
“Why?”
“That’s ancient Greek for fire.”
She surveyed him, clearly thinking about his words. “Because you can breathe fire?”
Rafferty nodded. “But we don’t have blood feuds all the time. Or at least, I don’t.”
“What did he do to you?”
That list was long and complicated. “I’d like to hear your list first,” Rafferty said, then smiled. “It’s probably shorter.”
“You’re right. It is.” She tipped her head back and held his gaze, as if she would dare him to believe her. “He killed a friend of mine. So far, he’s gotten away with it, but she wasn’t the first and she won’t be the last. I want to ensure that he’s caught.”
“And the book?”
“She said it was a record of his arms deals, of his appointments, of his contacts.” Melissa grimaced. “She said it would condemn him, and she gave me the security codes to go get it.”
“Why didn’t she get it?”
“She tried. She wrote to me in advance, as insurance. She said I’d hear from her before the letter came, if she succeeded.” Melissa’s eyes were filled with a conviction Rafferty respected. “I never did.”
He voiced the possibility that she had been deceived. “She could have run away instead.”
Melissa shook her head, a shadow claiming her features. “I found her at the morgue, yesterday.” She swallowed and blinked back tears; then her expression closed. “A Jane Doe.” Her words were tight, her composure tenuous. She had cared about this woman. “Burned to death.”
Rafferty grimaced and walked beside her, wishing she hadn’t seen that. No one should see such a sight.
No one should suffer such a fate.
Her voice dropped, filling with passion, and her words almost perfectly echoed his own thoughts. “That’s not nearly good enough, not for anyone.”
“How did you know her?”
She smiled a little then, kicking the ground as she walked. “She was a street kid in Baghdad. Pretty but living in a tough world. Inquisitive and stubborn. She found things out. She was more reliable than most.”
“But not entirely so.”
Melissa shrugged. “No one would have believed her story, even if it was true.”
“But how’d she get here?”
She sighed. “I think she was Montmorency’s mistress. I couldn’t believe it when I saw her here, all turned out in Dolce and Gabbana.” She met his gaze. “Daphne was pretty, she was cunning and self-motivated, but she wasn’t all bad. And no one but no one deserves to die like that.”
Rafferty was struck by her passion, and found himself responding to it. “So, you broke into his house.”
She heaved a shaking breath. “So, I tried to make my own luck. I tried to get the evidence that would see Daphne avenged.”
“Which might get you a job again.”
“Yes. Although it wasn’t all about the job.” She looked at him. “The thing is, that’s what reporters do. We ferret out the truth and tell it to the world. I used to be good at that.”
Rafferty suspected she was still good at it. “And that’s important?”
She sighed. “It’s the only legacy that counts, isn’t it? Truth and justice are the things that stand the test of time, that make the world a better place. I want to be a part of that solution.”
“There are other ways.”
“This is the one I’m good at.” She spoke with fervor, with such conviction that Rafferty knew she was right.
He’d have to watch those old broadcasts again. They must be archived somewhere. He wanted very much to see her in action.
“I still have the book,” he admitted softly.
She looked at him, her eyes alight. “I’m guessing you won’t just give it to me.”
Rafferty shook his head. “I still need the blog pictures to disappear.”
She winced. “I still want that job.”
They eyed each other, still on opposite sides.
Rafferty had a feeling, though, that they could find a mutually beneficial solution. “Maybe there’s another way to get it, a way that doesn’t involve betraying me and my kind.” He arched a brow. “Maybe you need to make a gesture of good faith.”
She laughed again, a sound all the more enchanting for being unexpected. “Is that supposed to be the proverbial offer I can’t refuse?”
Rafferty found himself smiling in turn. “Maybe.” Her expression warmed as she surveyed him.
“You should smile more,” she said, her words falling breathless.
Rafferty took a step closer but never managed to raise his hand to her cheek.
“
What madness is this?
” Erik roared, his old-speak echoing so loud in Rafferty’s mind that Rafferty staggered.
“What’s the matter?” Melissa asked, her concern clear as Rafferty turned away.
“
What has happened?
” he asked Erik, barely daring to guess.
His cell phone rang, and he suspected it was more bad news. With some trepidation, Rafferty answered it. He was right—Erik had sent him a hot link.
To a YouTube video.
Which he wouldn’t have believed if he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes. Now what?
No matter how bad it was, there was nothing to be gained by avoiding the truth. Rafferty played the video, Melissa watching him so avidly that he found his face heating.
“What is it?” she asked. “Something really bad?”
He couldn’t see any harm in her knowing the truth. He gave her the phone, and she replayed the video. He watched her disappointment dawn; then she handed him back the phone.
“So much for my job,” she said, unable to completely keep the despondency from her voice.
It wasn’t the reaction he’d expected. “Why do you say that?”
There was no joy in her half smile. “There is no second place in my business. There are winners and there are losers. First in wins, every time, and all other deals are moot.”
“So, you were beaten to the story.” Rafferty watched her with care, seeing her put her disappointment away, square her shoulders, and look forward again. She was resilient, his mate—impressively so. There was even an optimistic glint in her eye when she met his gaze again.
“Pretty much,” she acknowledged, her tone already less rueful. “But it’s not as if I had an exclusive negotiated with you
Pyr
, is it?”
“If it’s meant to be, you’ll find another way to get that job,” Rafferty said. He wanted to console her but wasn’t sure how to do it.
She forced a smile. “Maybe.” She turned her bright gaze on him so suddenly that he knew she’d thought of something. “But wait a minute. You winced before the phone rang. What happened there?” She glanced around. “It sounded like thunder, or a freight train, but that can’t have been what it was.”
“Old-speak,” Rafferty acknowledged, watching the video of Thorolf again, confirming that it was as bad as he’d feared. “We can communicate with one another at lower frequencies than humans can clearly understand.”
“Someone yelled at you?”
“Not just someone. The leader of our kind.”
“Ticked off the boss, huh?” She smiled, and he had a strange sense of camaraderie with her. “I do it all the time.”
Rafferty fumbled with his phone, awkward with his growing admiration of his mate. “You probably recognized the guy in the video.”
“That was your friend. The one who wanted to empty my fridge. Nice silvery color in his dragon form.” She watched Rafferty, and he guessed that she saw his chagrin. “You left him behind.”
“He’s not as adept with his abilities as would be ideal.”
Melissa smiled. “Yes, he looked a bit overwhelmed. He did bail, though.”
Rafferty shook his head. “But he shouldn’t have left without beguiling those who had seen him.” He sighed. “And I should have been with him, to ensure that he didn’t make such a mistake. I should not have lost my temper.” He met her gaze steadily. “I have failed my fellows.”
There was no condemnation in her eyes. “Because you chose to save me instead.”
There was no arguing with that. “You are my destined mate and thus my responsibility.”
“Mate?” she repeated, biting off the word. “That’s a bit presumptuous, don’t you think? I mean, last night was one thing, but starting a family is quite another. Unless that’s not what you mean.”
“It is what I mean. But what’s more important is that defending you is my responsibility….”
“Sex isn’t destined,” Melissa argued. “I don’t believe in fate, and I’m not sure I believe in happily ever after….”
“That’s fine.” Rafferty knew he’d already told her too much and feared he’d only alienate her with more explanation. He tried to prioritize the challenges before him, but she was waiting, hands on her hips. “It’s not entirely about family,” he admitted.
“But partly so?”
Rafferty sighed and nodded.
“You don’t think you should have mentioned that last night?”
“The firestorm hadn’t ignited yet. It wasn’t an issue.”