The Dragon Legion Collection 9 (20 page)

A glimmer of blue-green light crackled along the deadened ground, drawing up alongside her then racing ahead. Petra couldn’t make sense of it, but she didn’t have time to think about it. She spared a backward glance to find Damien closing fast, his expression murderous. She stumbled over something and looked forward again just as blue-green brilliance flared. It lit into an orb of light so bright that she had to close her eyes against it. It appeared so abruptly that she couldn’t keep from running straight into its glow.

Then her footsteps faltered to a halt as she stared in wonder.

Because Petra was abruptly surrounded by the past and filled with the ache of all they’d lost.

* * *

Trust Petra to be unpredictable and uncooperative.

Trust Petra to start an argument instead of helping them both to escape.

This quest should have been easy. Damien should have been able to fetch his son, return to the ferry and have Charon take him back to the side of the river that touched the land of the living. It should have been quick and relatively painless. He should have been heading back into the world he knew, his son safely with him, but nothing with Petra ever went as planned.

She’d always defied expectation—in fact, that had been one of the things Damien had once admired about her. She challenged him and surprised him, as no one else had ever done. She was fearless and defiant, and completely captivating. Their relationship had been fiery from the start, filled with arguments and passion, filled with battles of words that ended in ferocious lovemaking. He’d felt so alive with her, so embroiled in a constant battle of wits and challenges.

Challenge was the right word for Petra.

Look at their firestorm. He’d planned to fulfill it, conceive their son, and leave again. She’d been agreeable, even wanting to experience it. Instead, he’d stayed one day, then another, until he’d been with her for three months. It was only because he finally had left, to make a quick trip to Delphi, that he’d learned the truth about her and been able to leave for good.

The strange thing was that he knew he should be furious with her, but Damien felt invigorated. He was startled to realize how glad he’d been to feel that old flame leap to life between them. He’d missed Petra, even knowing how dangerous she was. Maybe that was part of the reason she intrigued him. Either way, he wasn’t nearly ready to step away from her again.

That should have worried him more than it did.

Damien had to wonder if she was the one who had ensured he couldn’t shift shape to fight Cerberus. It would have been like her to want him in her debt for something.

Maybe that was why she’d enchanted the hellhound, so Damien would owe her.

What did she want in exchange? It was a question that only Petra would be able to answer.

Except that she was running away from him.

Damien couldn’t believe that his son hadn’t been born before Petra had drowned, but the evidence was unmistakable. That made his mission more complicated, and he wondered if she’d planned it that way in advance. It seemed a bad time to acknowledge that he had no clear idea of her powers. Had she seen the future? Guessed where and how they’d meet again? He had a thousand questions, but Petra was clearly disinclined to explain herself. Why hadn’t she waited for their son to be born? It had been irresponsible for her to undertake such a journey so close to her time, and he felt angry with her for her choice.

An unwelcome voice in his thoughts reminded him of his own lack of responsibility, but that had been different. He couldn’t have stayed with Petra, not once he’d learned the truth about her.

Not once he’d known that she could kill him at any time.

He would have gone back for his son sooner, if he and his fellows hadn’t been cast across the centuries.

And now Charon had forgotten his bargain and had headed back to the far shore. Damien doubted there would be a refund or a credit on the extra fare he’d paid. Petra was running like the wind, running faster than he could have imagined a woman in her state would be able to run. It would have been simple to catch her if he’d been able to shift shape, but no amount of effort seemed able to rouse the dragon within. Damien pursued her, realizing as they moved deeper into this strange territory that the underworld wasn’t a place he wanted to explore alone—much less a place he wanted to remain.

But Petra had been trapped here. He felt a pang of sympathy for her.

In fact, the first sight of her, round with his son, had shaken him. She’d always been lovely and had always had lush curves. But pregnancy had ripened her in a way that made Damien remember very well all the pleasure they’d had creating that son. The strange blue-green light of the darkfire had flattered her in a way he hadn’t expected, drawing him closer, making him want to caress and seduce her all over again.

He saw the darkfire crackle along the ground ahead of him, illuminating this dark and dreary realm. It flared up suddenly in front of Petra, almost like an explosion. He shouted a warning but she didn’t stop. Damien tried to run faster even as she stepped right into the brilliance and disappeared.

Damien cried her name in horror. He feared the worst, although when he thought about it, he couldn’t think of what would be worse for her than being dead. He passed into the light of the darkfire, feeling a shiver pass over his flesh at its cold touch.

And then, he was surrounded by the past.

Damien had just stepped into a tavern, taking shelter from the night along with Orion. The cool of a winter evening was at his back. Inside the tavern was a crowd of people, laughter and food.

And music.

The music had drawn them, turning their steps in this direction like a spell of enchantment. Now, surrounded by the glow of candlelight, Damien stood in silence and stared.

A gorgeous woman played the lyre in the middle of the tavern, to the obvious delight of the people listening. She evidently played a familiar song, for they all knew the words and sang along. A plump man who had to be the proprietor stood by the door to the kitchen, smiling with satisfaction.

Orion heaved a sigh of satisfaction. “Finally, a decent meal and some good company.”

“I’m not such bad company as that,” Damien retorted and Orion grinned.

“You could be the most beautiful woman in the world, and after a month in your company alone, I’d still be ready for a change.”

Damien laughed, unable to be insulted. “That’s the most beautiful woman in the world,” he said, gesturing to the musician. “It would take more than a month for me to tire of her companionship.”

Orion might have replied in kind, but as Damien gestured, a spark lit at the end of his finger. The brilliant orange light flared, arching across the room to land on the musician’s parted lips.

She gasped in wonder.

She considered him.

Then her eyes lit and she smiled.

“The firestorm,” Orion said, a tinge of jealousy in his tone. “You’ll satisfy it in a night, won’t you?” he teased. “Never linger.”

“Lingering only builds expectations,” Damien replied softly, his gaze fixed on the woman who could bear his son. His blood fired in anticipation of the night they’d share. “And the firestorm is extinguished as soon as it’s satisfied. One night is all it will take.”

She ended the tune, stilling the strings of the lute with one hand as her audience applauded. There were calls for drinks and food that sent the proprietor scurrying, but the woman immediately began to play another song.

It was a love song, low and seductive, the words sending a pulse of heat through Damien.

Or maybe it was the way she sang the song to him that fired his blood. Damien stood utterly still, his gaze locked with hers, as her song filled the tavern. Her voice was so rich and pure that she might have been born of the gods. He heard the rapturous sigh of one of the patrons. Damien was barely aware of Orion clapping him on the shoulder, then pushing him forward. He took one step and then another, moving closer to the beguiling beauty who sang just for him.

With every step, the heat of the firestorm burned brighter. With every step, he heard her song more clearly and was more smitten. Her eyes were darker than dark, filled with a thousand lights. They tipped up slightly at the outer corners, giving her an exotic appearance, and her ripe red lips seemed to caress each syllable of the song as the words spilled forth. Her hair was long and dark and wavy, hanging past her hips in flowing ebony. Her skin was so fair that it might have been carved of ivory, and the contrast made her even more strikingly attractive.

She wore a chiton of fine white cloth that was cut full, then tied at her narrow waist with a gold cord. She was curvaceous, her breasts enough to fill his hands, her waist narrow, her hips sweetly curved. She danced barefoot, the glimpses of her feminine feet beneath the hem of her tunic making Damien’s pulse pound in his ears. Her tunic was hemmed in golden embroidery and the light played with the thread, making her look like a precious gem.

His gem. His mate. The firestorm told no lie. This was the woman who could bear Damien’s son, and he wasn’t going to bypass the opportunity.

He was going to make the most of it.

And he’d be gone in the morning.

The way she sang for him, her eyes dancing and her smile drawing him closer, told him that she liked what she saw, as well. It wasn’t just the light that burned brighter between them with every step he took closer—it was the desire that surged through his body with greater demand. By the time he halted before her, he was burning for her, determined to woo her in bed, to make this night a night that neither would ever forget.

He was captivated by her dark eyes, her knowing smile, her grace and her lovely voice. The song could have lasted a lifetime or the duration of a single heartbeat. Damien didn’t know or care. There was only the musician and her song.

And when she held the last note, drawing it out into a tone of impossible richness, her smile was only for him. The others applauded but Damien took the last step between them. “Pure magic,” he said, then caught her face in his hands. She gasped at the spark of heat that fired between them, then smiled at him in the illumination of the firestorm. She held her ground though, undaunted by the strange light.

She was as remarkable and bold as he’d hoped.

“Thank you for the song,” Damien whispered, then bent his head and kissed her.

She was as sweet as the finest honey, her lips both soft and firm, the scent of her perfume enticing. To Damien’s surprise, she slipped one hand around his neck and pulled him closer, deepening the kiss when he might have stepped back. Her tongue touched his, her welcome enflaming him.

He knew he should break their kiss but didn’t have the willpower to do so. She opened her mouth and rose to her toes, inviting him to partake of all she had to offer, and Damien couldn’t have resisted her—or the firestorm—at any price.

* * *

Petra was back in the tavern, on that fateful night. She felt the firestorm even before she saw Damien, although she hadn’t known what it was at first. She turned in surprise at the unexpected heat just as he walked into the small tavern.

And her world stopped.

At first glimpse, she was snared. Damien paused at the back of the tavern, looking unpredictable, confident and alluring. He watched her, a smile on his lips and a seductive glint is his eyes. It was more than the fact that he was handsome, more than his muscled build, that drew her eye.

He was surrounded with golden light, and she felt as if she was looking straight into the sun. His eyes even seemed to be lit with gold, although later she would see that they simply had hazel glints in them. In that moment, she thought he could have been a god come to walk among them. Petra guessed there was something different about him. He had a raw power that she could sense even at a distance, see even with a glimpse, and her heart soared with hope.

Could it be that there was a man worthy of her love?

Could it be that there was one man who would love her for what she was?

After just one song, he was striding forward to claim her with a kiss, as if he, too, knew that there was strange magic between them. That golden light burned and flared, becoming brighter the closer he came to her. His touch seared her soul and his kiss melted her bones.

She was his for the taking. Their meeting was destiny at work; their happiness together assured. She couldn’t bear to share his company with anyone and led him outside the back of the tavern, where the night sky was thick with stars.

He kissed her again, slowly and thoroughly, leaving her flushed and filled with desire. The golden light burned even brighter between them, sparking off her fingertips in a way that made her laugh. She played with it as he watched her, touching his shoulder to make the flame flash brighter, then drawing her hand away, over and over again.

Each touch made her desire stronger.