Mercy Burns (24 page)

“A plain brown draman who can’t fly isn’t much of a catch in a sky filled with rainbow fliers.”

He shifted the pillow off his head and fixed me with his dark gaze. “There is nothing plain about you,
my girl. Why the hell would you even think something like that?”

“Because it’s true.” I shifted my gaze from his, a little unsettled—and surprised—by the annoyance so evident there. “So, what’s our plan?”

“To sleep until dawn, then get up and have a shower.”

I wrapped my fingers around his balls and squeezed lightly. Tension rippled through him and the caress of heat got stronger, fueling the fires deep within me. “I meant, where do we go next? Do we try to find Deca Dent?”

“First, we read those notes of yours. Then we head for the club. Although we’ll probably have to scout it first, and see who, exactly, is hanging around.”

“Do you think the man with the cultured voice is the brains behind the operation?” I shifted my fingers again, scooting them underneath to tease the base of his penis. It was rock hard, thick with heat, and all I wanted to do was take him inside me again.

“I don’t know.” He shifted suddenly, grabbing my arms and twisting me around, reversing our positions so that he was lying on top of me. “And there is another major problem we have to worry about.”

“And what might that be?” I said, grinning as he nudged my legs wider and settled in between them.

“The fact that you don’t seem willing to get out of bed.”

The heat of him began to slide inside me, filling me, stretching me. And it felt so good I sighed in sheer pleasure.

He chuckled softly and added, “I do so like a woman who’s easily pleased.”

“Don’t start patting yourself on the back just yet, dragon. There’s a whole lot of work to be done before I’m utterly satisfied.” I shifted and wrapped my legs around him, driving the thick heat of him deeper. “How are we going to get into the club? They’ll be looking out for us now.”

He began to move slowly, rocking deep inside, sending ripples of delight flooding across my body. A delight that increased when his hands slid up and cupped my breasts. “We disguise ourselves.”

“It didn’t work the last time.” The words came out slightly breathy as his clever fingers began to pinch and tease my nipples.

“It will this time.”

“Why? What do you plan to do?”

“Kiss you senseless so you’ll shut up and concentrate on the business at hand.”

A grin curved my lips. “That doesn’t sound like it’ll get us past—”

The rest of the sentence was cut off as his lips captured mine and our kiss deepened into something that was pure and simple yet, at the same time, so very complicated. Because it spoke of possibilities that I didn’t dare contemplate for more than a second or two.

So I concentrated on the physical and let the enjoyment flow until it filled me, until
he
filled me, and there was nothing left but contentment.

“Now you can ask your questions,” he said, kissing my nose then pushing backward into an upright position. “But I think we need to get moving.”

“Says the man who was, until minutes ago, lolling around in bed.”

“You woke me up.” His grin was insolent. “And most delightfully, I might add.”

“Meaning it’s your turn to be delightful, and go make breakfast while I shower.” I leaped to my knees and gave him a kiss before bouncing off the bed. “Pancakes would be nice.”

“So they would, but I can only manage toast and coffee.”

Which is exactly what I got. I booted up the netbook as I downed my breakfast, then proceeded to explain the code Rainey and I had used.

“Now that you’ve explained it, it seems really obvious,” he commented, swinging the computer around so he could see it more fully.

“Naturally,” I agreed, between mouthfuls. “We were all of seven when we dreamed it up.”

He picked up his coffee and studied the screen, occasionally flicking the track pad and shifting to another file.

“You’ve got a note here about some town called East River in Arizona.” He frowned at me. “Never heard of it. Is it another cleansed site?”

I shook my head as I rose to refill my coffee mug. “It was a tip we got a month ago. We went to investigate, but the town—and everyone in it—was alive and well. If a little singed.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Singed?”

“Yeah. Wildfires came pretty close, apparently, but the draman were able to suck in enough of the fire’s heat to stop it from destroying the town.” It was tempting—mighty tempting—to add that if Damon and the council had their way, those people would have had no personal fire, and therefore no fire control,
and might well have ended up homeless if not dead. But I didn’t want to get into another argument, so I simply added, “Interestingly enough, the person who gave us that tip also gave us Desert Springs. He had a car accident a couple of days later. Apparently he collided with a truck.”

And a day later, in another so-called accident, a car had lost traction on the wet roads and had come skidding across at us. Only Rainey’s quick thinking had actually saved us from being hurt. That time.

Damon’s gaze met mine, sharp and edgy. “And that didn’t give you a warning that it might be wise to walk away, while you still could?”

“Rainey needed to find out what happened to her sister, so no, walking away was never a consideration.”

“Rainey’s sister isn’t your sister. You didn’t owe her anything.”

I snorted softly. “Rainey is—was—the sister of my heart, and I could no more walk away from her kin than I could my own. Besides, it was an accident. The driver didn’t run off and abandon the vehicle, not like the man who hit us.”

“That doesn’t mean it couldn’t have been planned.”

True. And I guess with the benefit of hindsight, it was all too easy to see the connections to what we were investigating. But back then, it had all seemed pretty coincidental and nonthreatening.

Which was naïve of us, I guess.

I poured some milk into my coffee, then sat back down.

“What’s this list of names?” he asked eventually.

I leaned over. “The one on the left is a list of everyone we think went missing in Stillwater.” It wasn’t a
huge list, because the only names we really knew were those we’d met when visiting Rainey’s sister. A good half of them, though, had been from Jamieson. Stillwater seemed to have been some sort of refuge for the outcasts from my clique. “The column on the right are the various names mentioned when we were questioning people about the towns. The ones asterisked are the ones we’d intended to follow up.”

He glanced at me. “Who did you question?”

I shrugged. “Friends. Family. Anyone we could track down, really. Most of them couldn’t have given a damn, but there were one or two who were willing to talk.”

“I see you’ve asterisked Hannish Valorn.”

His voice held an edge that made me frown. “His name came up in several conversations. He was seen at Stillwater, from what we could gather. Why?”

“Because Hannish Valorn is the son of the Nevada king.”

“Well, considering both cleansed towns were in Nevada, I guess it’s not unusual for the king’s son to be checking up on them.” I paused, and frowned. “You don’t think Nevada would have arranged the killings, do you?”

He was shaking his head before I’d even finished the sentence. “Marcus Valorn is considered a moderate. As long as neither Stillwater or Desert Springs caused him any problems, he would have left them alone.”

“So why did seeing his name there make you pause?”

“Because Hannish Valorn left after a massive argument with his father ten years ago. As far as I know, he hasn’t been near clique grounds since.”

“Then your information is out of date.”

“Not
that
out of date.” But he shrugged and continued reading.

After a few more minutes, I leaned against the table and asked curiously, “Is there any king who is actually considered revolutionary in his thinking?” I hadn’t heard of any, but my knowledge of other cliques and their kings was limited. “As in actually supporting equal rights for the draman?”

“No dragon in their right mind would ever consider that.” He said it almost absently, then, as if realizing exactly
what
he’d said, glanced at me sharply. His dark eyes, so warm and open only minutes before, were noticeably cooler. The dragon was replacing the lover, and somewhere inside I mourned the loss—even if I wasn’t surprised by it. “Dragon civilization has existed successfully for thousands of generations. You won’t find many who are willing to upset the balance. Not when it has worked for so long.”

“But the world is changing, and draman are becoming what the dragons are. You lot need to face that, or there will be consequences.”

His smile was harsh. “It’s only the sea cliques who appear to be producing draman with dragon skills. It would be easy to fix that, if the council wishes.”

Anger swirled at the cool, calm way he spoke about the destruction of hundreds of draman—because that’s exactly what he meant by “fix”—but I somehow managed to keep it in check. “And you can see nothing wrong with that?”

“This isn’t personal, Mercy—”

“How can it
not
be personal?” I thrust to my feet, unable to sit there any longer. “Damn it, I’m
draman
. Are you saying that if the council ordered it, you would
steal my fire and make me even less than I already am? That you would do it without regret, knowing it is necessary to protect the so-called greater race?”

He frowned. “I would never—”

“Why not?” I snapped, “I’m just another worthless draman, aren’t I? Good enough to take to bed or to keep around to do those nasty little tasks, but God forbid we ever be treated as equals, let alone fairly.”

He reached for me, but I stepped back, sending the chair clattering backward. He sighed, but there was little in the way of compassion in his expression as he said, “I would never do anything like that to you, Mercy. I wouldn’t even let anyone else do it, either. But facts are facts. Draman having dragon skills might be dangerous for us all.”

“No more dangerous than rearing young dragons. You said it yourself—draman are a part of the dragon culture. All we’re asking is to be a
proper
part of it.”

“Which probably won’t happen in my lifetime or yours. Old ways are hard to break down.”

“That doesn’t mean you and I can’t be the ones to
try.
”

He didn’t say anything to that, just dropped his gaze back to the netbook. I wanted to scream in frustration, but what was the point? Death and I might be amazingly compatible in the bedroom, but the truth was, he was an integral part of the machine I’d spent my whole life either fighting or running from, and he was never, ever, going to understand what I was trying to say. I had no idea why I even kept trying.

Because you like him
, an inner voice said.
Because you still believe things can change
.

Because I’m an idiot
, I added silently.

I picked up my mug and walked across to the window. The golden rays of the rising sun caressed my skin and I breathed deep, drawing in the energy and refueling the inner fires. Though the dawn was bright, pink-tipped clouds were gathering. I hoped it wasn’t an omen.

My gaze went to the road. It snaked along the coastline, a band of shiny black that reminded me a little of Damon’s stain. A white car cruised past slowly, its occupants obviously enjoying the view.

Only the car looked horribly familiar.

“Damon—”

He was beside me, looking out the window, before I’d finished. Maybe he’d sensed the sudden tension in me, although that would suggest an awareness and a connection he’d certainly never admit to.

He swore softly. “That’s the same car that tried to run you down in San Francisco.”

“But there have to be thousands—millions—of white cars around.” I was reaching for straws, I knew that, but I just didn’t want to believe that they’d found us again so quickly. “How can you be sure it’s the same one?”

“Because I remember the plate number.”

“You can see that from up here?”

“I have very good vision.” His attention was still on the car, and his whole body practically thrummed with the tension flowing through him. “Get your stuff together, Mercy; we need to leave. And keep away from the windows. I may not be the only one with good sight.”

I ran for the bathroom and grabbed my underclothing from the side of the bath, mighty glad it had dried
overnight. The rest of my clothes—which I’d also washed in between our bouts of lovemaking—hadn’t, but I had no intention of wearing them anyway. I simply scooped them up, then went into the next bedroom and raided the closet. It took several tries to find a pair of jeans that fit me, but a sweater and T-shirt were less problematic. As was a raincoat.

Damon’s gaze slid down my body as I reentered the bedroom, and the smile that touched his lips had my heart doing happy little flip-flops. Then his gaze slid back up to my hair. “I think we’ll need to dye that.”

“Cool with me, but that means stopping by a store. There’s nothing here.” I knew because I’d looked, having had much the same thought. Dyeing my hair might not stop the guy who’d gotten the scent of me, but at least it would stop a cursory recognition.

He nodded and glanced back to the window. “The car is cruising back and forth, so he’s obviously got some bead on us, but not enough to pinpoint us yet. Keep an eye on him, and if he turns onto this street, or stops, yell.”

“How the hell did he even track us here?” I moved to the other side of the window and peered cautiously out. The white car was almost out of sight, cruising around the bend and heading back toward the RV park.

“Given Santa Rosa is inland, it’s logical that Coral would have taken the most direct route to the sea, and Bodega Bay is the closest city.” He stepped around the window, kissed me lightly on the cheek, and added softly, “I think you’re priceless, Mercy. And you’re certainly not an idiot.”

And then he continued on to the bathroom, leaving
me speechless and staring after him. He’d
heard
my thoughts. He had to have. How else could he have even known I’d silently called myself an idiot only moments before?