Destiny Kills (5 page)

A clique, I remembered from the few talks I’d had with my dad about my air cousins, was generations of air dragon families living together in a community. Unlike sea dragons, who tended to live in single-family units.

I had no idea how many cliques of air dragons there were, but I knew there were more of them than there were of us sea dragons. The sea might be a vast and mighty mistress, but she was also full of predators, and the ancient safe havens where we could birth and raise our young were few and far between. And getting more crowded with humans every day.

“What did he want?” I asked. “Why did he contact you?”

“He wanted help.” He hesitated. “And he wanted protection.”

He had to have meant from Marsten. And I guess the help of a thief would be valuable, given our plans to break into Marsten’s mother’s place and steal the backup security codes apparently kept there. But protection? “What can you do that Egan couldn’t?”

“Nothing.” He hesitated, then added, “He didn’t really explain what was going on, he just said he needed an extra pair of hands to protect you.”

That was Egan all over, I thought, blinking back tears. He was always more worried about everyone else than himself. Which was probably why the younger kids at the research center had taken to him so quickly—he was their protector. Or as much as anyone could protect them in that place.

He’d been my protector, too. Only now he was gone, and I was left with his brother.

“Carrying a gun doesn’t make you capable of protecting me.”

“No. But my willingness to use it does.”

I supposed that was true. I looked out the window, studying the cold night. Moonlight washed across the small parking lot beyond the room, highlighting several cars and the twisted shapes of the trees lining the boundary. They spoke of sea and sand and wind, those trees, even though we weren’t anywhere near them.

The small coffeemaker began to splutter. Trae clicked it off and poured two mugs. The sharp smell of coffee touched the air, mixing with the tangy scent of man, tantalizing my senses and stirring my desire to greater heights.

Which was annoying, to say the least.

I hitched the sheet up over my knees. Maybe covering up would offer some sense of control. He walked across the room and offered me a cheap white mug. “Black coffee, sickeningly sweet.”

“Thanks.” I took the offered mug, my fingers touching his briefly and sending little shocks of electricity up my arm. “Where, exactly, are we?”

He stepped back and sat down on the other bed. Though his moves were casual, I could taste the sudden tension in him. See the flare of desire in his bright eyes. “We’re in Newport.”

“Where’s that? Besides in Oregon?” I hadn’t swum that far, but I had no idea where he’d actually picked me up from, and therefore no idea where in relation to Florence that was.

“About fifty miles north of Florence.”

“So we actually went past it? Why, when that’s where we wanted to go?”

“Because when you’re being chased, it’s always safer to go past a target, then come back to it.” He took a drink, his gaze holding mine over the rim. Those blue depths were still watchful, still distrusting, despite the deep burn of desire. “Are you going to explain what you were doing, and how Egan got shot?”

I blew out a breath. As much as I’d wanted to avoid remembering, he deserved an answer. “We’d gone to Mexico—”

“Mexico?” he interrupted. “Why there?”

“He had this place near San Lucas—”

Recognition sparked in his eyes. So did surprise. “Villa Costa Brava?”

I nodded. “You know it?”

“Yes.” He shook his head, amusement and old pain evident in his expression. “It’s a long story, but let’s just say it was our escape house when we were teenagers. Go on.”

“He’d wanted to check that the villa was okay. He said something about it being the home of his heart, if not his soul.” The pain that had been evident earlier came to the fore, accompanied by a sadness that tore at my heart.

“It was indeed. Sila is buried there.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Sila?”

“The black dragon he loved.”

“What happened to her?”

“As I said, it’s a long story.” Trae’s voice held a bitterness so cold, so deep, that my soul quaked. “Go on.”

I didn’t want to. I wanted to hear about Egan—the man I’d spent ten years sharing a bed with, and yet who I so obviously knew so little about. But Trae’s commanding tone suggested he wasn’t about to be derailed from getting his answers.

“They were waiting for him at Costa Brava. Waiting for us.”

“Who?”

“The scientists. The hunters.”

Pain rose and I closed my eyes. But the memories would not be denied this time, and images flashed—sharp stills of a past part of me didn’t want to remember or relive. The crystal-white sharpness of the glorious building, juxtaposed against the blue of the sky and the pool that from a distance seemed to meld right into the ocean itself. The smoky gray of the stone surrounding the pool, the coldness of it under my bare feet. The fingers of dread that ran down my spine as shadows moved and became our hunters. Fighting and fear and flames—hot, yellow-white flames—flung from Egan’s fingertips, which surrounded those who threatened us, consuming them. My hand, encased in the warm security of Egan’s grasp as we ran for the ocean and the safety it offered. The sharp echo of gunshots. The burn of a bullet tearing past my scalp. The man who’d jumped out of seemingly nowhere, right in front of us. Then blood—thick and crimson—splattering across the crystal walls, flooding across the gray stone.

And panic, sheer panic, as I tried to save a dying man and myself from recapture . . .

I gulped for air, fighting the tears, fighting not to remember—to see—anything more. I scrubbed an arm across my eyes, and said, “They were waiting for us. I don’t know how or why, but they were waiting for us.”

He leaned forward and touched a finger to my cheek, catching a tear I missed. “Why were the scientists even hunting you? How would they even know either of you existed?”

“Because we’d been their captives for the last ten years. Well, eleven in my case.”

“What?”

My gaze searched his, surprised. “Egan didn’t tell you?”

“Egan didn’t have a whole lot of time to tell me anything.” He hesitated. “I thought he’d sounded strange—distant. I guess now I know why. He was dying.”

And even in dying, he’d thought about others. Had contacted Trae to look after me.

More tears tracked down my cheeks. God, he’d deserved more—so much more—than what life had dished up to him these last ten years.

I sniffed, and continued. “They were shooting at him more than me. I didn’t think they’d want either of us dead, but I was wrong. Egan fought back. He . . .” I stopped again, trying not to think of those burning figures, trying not to remember the smell of their flesh or the way they’d screamed. Trying to remember that in many ways, they’d done far worse to both Egan and me.

“Burned them?” Trae said softly.

I nodded. “We broke free, but one of them jumped out in front of us and shot Egan in the chest.”

“How did you escape?”

I closed my eyes. “I called for help. I called the sea.”

And she had answered, rushing up over the white walls, crushing the vibrant red hibiscus, sweeping away the man who threatened us even as she left Egan and me untouched.

“You called the
sea
?”

“She is ours to call, much like flame is at your command. A large wave came in and over, sweeping away the man who’d shot Egan.”

Swept him away, and swept him deep. Because I had asked it, because I had called. The scientists hadn’t known about that power. They’d never suspected that we were the water to an air dragon’s flame. That same energy had helped us get far away from San Lucas. But in the end, it had not saved Egan.

Of course, the scientists now knew of the power. And they would want it, want me, even more fiercely. Maybe that was why I was still alive and Egan was dead.

They only had two sea dragons. They had six other fire dragons to examine and play with.

“Egan should have been able to survive a gunshot if it didn’t kill him straightaway,” Trae said.

I smiled bitterly. “Except that no man—no matter how gifted, how strong, or how magical—can survive having his heart shot to smithereens.”

Trae reached out to touch me, but I jerked away. “Don’t,” I said. “Just don’t.”

I don’t know why I said it when I actually hungered for his touch. Maybe it was just the sympathy in his eyes. The feeling that if I did give in to the need to be held, it wouldn’t end there.

That I would come to depend on him, just as much as I had come to depend on Egan.

I couldn’t let that happen. Couldn’t let anyone else get captured or killed. I had more than enough blood on my hands already.

He let his hand drop. “You don’t trust me.”

I met his gaze squarely. “It’s not a matter of trust. It’s a matter of believing that your help probably isn’t the best option right now.”

“Egan believed otherwise.”

“Egan’s dead. And the people who killed him are still out there.”

He considered me for a moment, then leaned back. Cool air swirled in between us, sending a chill across my already cold skin. “So are you telling me to walk away? That you don’t need my help at all?”

I hesitated and looked down at my coffee. I might not want to lean on him, or involve him any more than necessary, but the fact was, I had no money, no clothes, and no mode of transport. I might be able to swim oceans, but the scientists would probably be looking for me in the sea.

Of course, his wallet was still sitting on the bed, and it was stuffed with cash. He probably wouldn’t miss a few bills. Maybe not even a credit card. But if I did steal them and run, that would leave me alone. And no matter what, I needed help to break into the safe and get the security codes.

I let my gaze rise to his again. “What I’m worried about is the cost of your help.”

I meant death-wise, but the sudden twinkle in his eyes suggested his mind had gone in a completely different direction.

“Ah, well,” he said, his gaze sliding down my body, burning where it lingered. “Perhaps that is something we can discuss when we have a little more time.”

“I doubt it,” I said, even as I drank in the awareness that seared us both, letting it wash through me and chase away the night chill. “Because I have no intention of bedding my lover’s brother.”

I owed Egan that much. I might not have loved him, I might not have been even attracted to him as much as I was to his brother, but we’d spent ten long years together, and I’d cared for him. And caring did not mean hopping into the sack of another when the warmth of his touch still lingered in my mind.

Trae’s warm expression died a little at the mention of Egan. He stood abruptly and glanced at his watch. “Actually, we need to get moving. I want to be out of here before dawn.”

“Dawn is ninety-five minutes off yet.”

He raised his eyebrows. “To the second?”

“Ninety-five minutes, forty-three seconds, if you want to be precise.” I knew, because I could feel it. Feel the distant hum beginning to touch the air. Dawn was coming, bringing with it warmth and power. I frowned at him. “Air dragons are as attuned to the dawn and dusk as we are, so what’s with the disbelief?”

“I think it’s safe to say that I’m not your average dragon—”

“You got that right,” I muttered, then added, “Is it because you’re a draman that you can’t feel the dawn?”

“Yes.” Amusement toyed with the corners of his lush mouth. “And the woman who plays chicken with cars has no right to consider me strange.”

“I was just trying to get help. You were the one who couldn’t find the brake pedal.”

The amusement finally reached his eyes, and the bright sparkle did stranger things to my breathing. “I was never going to hit you.”

“That’s not the point.”

“Yes, it is.” He picked up his wallet from the end of the bed, dumped it on top of the bag sitting in the chair in the corner. “I’m going for a shower.”

“Another one?”

His grin flashed over his shoulder. “This one will be a lot colder.”

I smiled. I might be resisting him, but it was still nice to know the heat and desire I was feeling was mutual.

I watched him retreat into the bathroom, then my gaze was drawn back to the wallet. I might need his help, but I also needed a backup plan in case things went wrong—because things always
did
go wrong. And what I needed most besides help was cash. Without it, I had no way of getting around by myself.

I waited until I heard the sound of water running and the shower door close, then scrambled across to the chair and grabbed the wallet. There were four credit cards, and at least five hundred bucks in there, if not more. I slipped out a credit card and two hundred bucks, and only felt a little bit guilty. If things went ass up with Trae, at least I’d be able to look after myself for a day or so. As I threw the wallet back on top of the bag, my fingers brushed the nylon exterior and a familiar, cold sensation ran through my fingertips.

Frowning slightly, I undid the bag’s zipper and looked inside. Sitting to one side of the roughly packed clothes was Egan’s ring.

Anger ran through me. The
bastard
.

I grabbed the ring and took a step toward the bathroom, then stopped. Wouldn’t it be better—safer—if he didn’t know I’d discovered the theft? Neither he nor I had mentioned the ring since waking, so maybe he was hoping I’d forgotten about it. Which meant that maybe he wouldn’t check his bag for it. Not while I was around, anyway.

I zipped it back up, then spun and walked back to the bed. After a moment’s hesitation, I hid my stolen prizes inside the second pillowcase. It might not be the safest place, but at least I could get to them there in a less obvious way than hiding them anywhere else.

With that done, I sat back on the bed and slowly sipped my coffee, listening to the shower and imagining all that water running over lean, hard flesh. It was a nice way to spend the next five minutes.

He walked in a few minutes later, his clean, male scent filling the room. “You having another shower?” he asked, vigorously toweling his hair dry.