Mercy Burns (12 page)

He studied me for a moment, then said softly, “Because you need to save someone.”

I looked away, fighting the sting of tears. “Yes.”

“And is saving this person really worth the possible cost?”

I briefly closed my eyes. “Yes.”

“Then you must really love them.”

“I do.” I took a deep, somewhat shuddery breath and met his dark gaze. It was compassion and steel combined, and it was almost my undoing. “They killed her three days ago, Damon. I’m all she had, which means I’m the only one who can save her soul. And no matter what it takes, I
will
find and kill the bastards responsible for her death. No matter what you—or anyone else—says or does.”

The steel in his expression faded. He leaned forward and gathered my hands in his, his touch so warm, so comforting, that the tears spilled down my cheeks. God, it felt good to have someone to talk to. Someone who seemed to understand exactly what I was going through.

“How did she die?” he asked softly.

I closed my eyes against the rush of memories—the force of the impact that sent us flying, the crunch of metal, the high-pitched scream of the tires that was almost drowned out by our own, the bitter taste of fear as we realized there was nothing we could do to save ourselves. I’d relived those moments over and over in the hospital and would no doubt catch them in my dreams for years to come. While I doubted time would make them any easier to take, I hoped it would at least make the pain fade.

I took a deep breath, and said, “We were looking for clues in Nevada, but a phone call had us heading back to San Francisco. A truck ran us off the road before we got anywhere near here, and Rainey … went through
the windshield.” I paused, swallowing heavily. “It was no accident.”

He shifted his grip so that his fingers were laced through mine. It was comforting and yet, at the same time, very intimate. The heat of his flesh chased the chill from mine and made me feel safer than I had ever thought possible.

“What makes you think it wasn’t an accident?”

“The truck accelerated as it came toward us. The driver never applied his brakes and, in fact, gunned the engine to hit us a second time. The police found the truck abandoned—and wiped of prints—two hours later.”

“Did you see the driver at all?”

I shook my head. “We were too busy trying to get out of his way.”

“Maybe the driver simply panicked—”

“No.” I raised my gaze to his. “They killed her, and they tried to kill me. I need to know why.” I needed answers if I was to have any hope of saving Rainey.

I breathed deep, trying to control the turmoil within me, trying to keep calm. It didn’t work. The tears continued to trickle down my cheeks regardless.

“The worst of it is, no one prayed for her, Damon. They ran us off the road and left us to die in the night and the cold, and I wasn’t aware enough to pray for her soul at sunrise.”

And that was the worst of it. I wasn’t there for her when she needed me the most.

“Her death was not your fault.”

“But if I don’t get my answers and claim my vengeance, then her soul will be forced to roam this earth forever. And that
will
be my fault.”

He didn’t say anything, just continued to hold my hands, and it offered more comfort than mere words ever could. Yet I could sense the conflict in him—the need for information warring with the need to be sympathetic. “Say it,” I said quietly.

He gave me a lopsided smile that warmed me more than his touch. “You must have found something to make them nervous.”

“We made a ton of notes, but I can’t remember anything that specifically points a finger at anyone.” I hesitated, then added, “But the man who gave us the tip … His voice was familiar.”

“You can’t place it?”

“No.” I hesitated again. “I have a friend doing a check on the whereabouts of a Seth Knightly, although the voice was too elegant to be his.”

“Then why do you suspect him?”

“Because he made a reference to something that happened to me in the past—something that only a few people were aware of. And running us off the road like that, and then leaving us to die, is the sort of thing he’d do.”

He frowned slightly. “And there was nothing in the town that you were investigating before the accident?”

“Nothing at all.” I hesitated. “Though I did wonder how they got my cell number.”

He frowned. “Cell phones are digital and hard to pick up on scanners, although that doesn’t mean it can’t have happened. But it’s more than likely someone would have given them your number.”

“I’ve only got a couple of friends who have my number, and none of them would have given it out without telling me.”

“What about your mother?”

“It’s possible, if the king ordered it.” But that man didn’t even know I existed, so I couldn’t imagine he was the source. “I’d like to think she didn’t, though.”

If only because that would mean they knew altogether
too
much about me.

Damon’s frown deepened. “Did you phone anyone unusual in the few days before the accident?”

“No.” I hesitated. “Well, I did phone the council about the cleansed towns, but they, of course, could not have cared less. I can’t imagine they’d attempt to destroy us when they didn’t even give a damn about two towns that had been destroyed.”

He didn’t comment on that, but I felt his quick flash of interest anyway. “You think someone on the council is working with the people behind the cleansings?”

I shrugged. “Right now, I think anything is possible.”

“It’s a shame those notes all burned along with your apartment. They might have been useful.”

“They’re not much more than a listing of what we’ve found, who we know is missing, stuff like that.”

“Which may not mean a lot to you, but could be the difference between me finding these people and not.”

“Meaning, of course, that you
do
know a whole lot more than you’re admitting.”

“I’m a muerte. I always know more than I admit.”

His tone was gently mocking, and I resisted the urge to flick some cake in his direction. But only because it would have meant taking my hands from his.

“If Death is all-knowing, then why doesn’t he know that the notes are actually on a netbook that wasn’t in either apartment?”

His dark gaze scanned mine, as if searching for lies. “So it’s safe?”

“More than likely.” If no one had stolen the thing out of the desk. “I’d been writing up the latest batch of notes at work and left them there.” Rainey had been in such a hurry to get back to Nevada that I’d forgotten to pick up the netbook on the way out.

“So we can still get to it?”

“If you can figure out a way to enter the building without being seen. Those men have my license and press card, so they’ll know where I work and will probably be on the lookout.”

His sudden smile was full and rich, and crinkled the corners of his eyes. And I’d been right before—it was absolutely heart-stopping.

“I’m a dragon
and
a muerte. Trust me when I say that I know a thing or two about sneaking into places unseen.”

It took a moment to ignore the glow of that smile and to think like the calm and rational person I supposedly was. To remember
why
I was here, doing this.

“I won’t help you retrieve the netbook unless you stop insisting that I walk away and let me help.”

His smile faded and I mourned its loss. “I understand why you need to do this, but that could be tantamount to condoning murder.
Your
murder, if these men get hold of you.”

“I’m going to keep investigating regardless of whether I have your help or not. And it seems to me that if we’re investigating the same thing, we’d be better off pooling resources.”

He pulled his hands from mine. “You’d be better off. I’d be landed with a complication I don’t really need.”

“Kindly remember the complication rescued your butt from hibernation and might yet have some information you need.” I picked up the coffee mug. It really didn’t provide the same sort of comfort as his touch, but it was better than nothing. I studied him for a moment longer, then added softly, “If you had the chance of saving a friend’s soul, wouldn’t you take it?”

“Yes.”

There was something in the way he said it that made me say, “I’m thinking your reason for tracking these people isn’t all that dissimilar to my own.”

His gaze met mine again. “You might be right.”

“Then don’t expect anything less from me.”

“I don’t expect
anything
of you—or from you—simply because I don’t know you.”

“That hasn’t stopped you from trying to boss me around.”

“I’m only trying to keep you safe, Mercy. I’d hate to see you end up like your friend and mine.”

It was on the tip of my tongue to ask why my death even mattered to him when we were strangers, but I resisted the temptation. Most people didn’t like to see lives thrown away needlessly, and though Damon was far from most people, it wasn’t fair to think he wouldn’t feel the same.

“I’d hate to see me end up like Rainey, too. But you’re investigating the same thing, so you’re just as much at risk as me.”

He smiled again, but this time it held a bittersweet edge that tore at something deep inside. He reached for the other fork and scooped up some chocolate cake, and I knew in that moment I’d won.

But I didn’t feel victorious. I just felt even more
afraid. Because I knew, without a doubt, that this whole quest had just gotten a lot more dangerous. Because of this man, and because of the world he appeared to walk in.

“The difference between you and me,” he said, “is the fact that I’m as deadly as they are.”

“I can protect myself,” I said softly.

He didn’t say anything to that, but he didn’t have to. I could taste his disbelief in the air. “Tell me about this Angus you keep mentioning,” he said instead.

I shrugged again and picked up my fork, scooping up some more cake. It wasn’t doing a lot to ease the ache of losing all I’d held dear, but at least it stopped my stomach from rumbling. “We were going to meet him when the truck hit us. I contacted him again after I got out of the hospital and arranged another meeting. You saw the end result of that encounter.”

“How much did you tell him before you met him?”

“He knew we were investigating the cleansed towns.”

“If he was involved in the death of your friend, then meeting him alone was a pretty stupid move.”

According to him, my life was full of stupid moves. I squashed down my irritation and forked up more cake. If he didn’t hurry, he was going to miss out on his share—and given the barbed comments he kept flinging my way, maybe he deserved to.

“He’s a sea dragon. Rainey was killed in the middle of nowhere. My guess is that there was no direct involvement.”

“You can’t be sure of that.”

No, I couldn’t. But in this case, I trusted my instincts. Angus might be peripherally involved with whatever
was happening, but I didn’t think it went as deep as murder—I’d overheard him say as much in the van. “I’m going to interview him tonight.”

“We should go get the netbook first. Just in case those men decide to do a little desk investigation of their own.”

“It won’t do them any good. I wasn’t using my desk.” I hesitated, but couldn’t help adding, “I’m not
that
stupid.”

Amusement twinkled in his eyes. “So there’s hope for you yet?”

“Apparently,” I muttered, unable to keep up with this man’s sudden mood changes. Although I couldn’t be annoyed by this one. Or that half smile. I glanced at my watch. “We’ve hours to spare.”

“But good disguises take time. Finish the cake, then I’ll show you some magic.”

I looked up into his dark eyes and saw the devilry there. I felt myself smiling. “Are you sure you’re capable of magic after being locked up for so long?”

“Why don’t you come back to my car and find out?”

Anytime
, I thought, and I threw the fork down on the table. “Consider the cake finished.”

He rose and took my hand, pulling me gently upward. “Then let’s go.”

As I followed him out the door, I let my gaze wander up the length of him—admiring the way his jeans clung to his butt and emphasized the long, lean power of his legs. The silent, easy-flowing way he moved. The shoulders that hinted at the strength of the man, both within and without.

He reminded me of a predator, and I guess in many ways he was.

But however dangerous Death might be, however moody he might be, there was one inescapable fact.

He was also damn
hot
.

A wig, some artfully applied makeup, and a change of clothes later, and Damon did indeed look like someone else. He now looked and walked like a man twenty years older, and if I hadn’t seen the transformation myself, I wouldn’t have believed it. I certainly wouldn’t have looked twice at him on the street.

I watched him disappear into my office building, then glanced up and down the street. I couldn’t see anyone acting suspiciously, let alone anyone who seemed to be watching the entrance, but that didn’t mean anything. I hadn’t seen the watcher at the Ritz until it was almost too late.

Of course, Damon had insisted that I also undergo a change of appearance, which is why I was sitting at the bus stop with blond hair, a low-cut top that exposed way too much breast, and a miniskirt that bordered on indecent—all courtesy of a recent shopping spree. Damon’s theory was that if they were looking at my body they weren’t looking at my face, but the twinkle in his eyes as he’d said it suggested the bad guys might not be the only ones enjoying the look.

That was the sole reason I’d actually agreed to wear the outfit. Janelle might have warned me not to play with Death, but the inner dragon just wasn’t listening.

Not that I really expected anything to develop between us, because Damon seemed to be the ultimate loner. Besides, I knew from experience that dragons of
his caliber didn’t consider half-breeds like me to be anything more than playthings.

I turned the page of the newspaper I’d been pretending to read and tried to ignore the rising chill in the air. I might have a dragon’s fire, but that didn’t mean I was immune to the cold. Especially when—like now—I couldn’t actually use my flame to warm myself.