Mercy Burns

Chapter Nine

I slammed knee-first into the road, but the pain that shot up my legs was nothing compared to the fear. My heart was going a million miles an hour and my throat was so dry, even breathing hurt. We only had the open door as protection, and the metal just didn’t seem like adequate armor against a potential rain of bullets. Only it didn’t happen.

From within the house came the sound of screaming—furious, feminine screaming—and it was accompanied by the sound of tearing metal and a weird whooshing noise. A second later, the roof of the house exploded upward, propelled by a jet of water. And carried along with it was a man, yelling as he tried to fire a gun back into the house.

A sea dragon’s greatest weapon might be the sea, but they can control any sort of water. Even the stuff that came through rusting pipes—which made me wonder why she hadn’t done that before now, and escaped.

“It appears our sea dragon is still alive,” Damon murmured, grabbing my arms and hauling me upright. “Come on.”

He hurried me across the road and behind the cover of another car, but the shooters were obviously too occupied by the mayhem within to worry about us.

Another muffled shot rang out and the fountain of water dipped dramatically before rising again.

“Stay here,” Damon murmured, then ran, crouched, toward the house.

I shifted position so I could watch him. In the darkness he was little more than a shadow quickly lost to normal sight, and only my odd awareness of the man allowed me to keep track of his progress.

He slipped over the metal gate and ran toward the house. As he did so, an old wooden chair exploded through the front window, hitting the concrete and shattering into a dozen pieces.

A woman with dark hair was briefly silhouetted, running across the shattered remains of the window before disappearing. Several heartbeats later, a blond man appeared, a gun held in front of him as he chased her. More shots rang out. More furniture flew.

In the houses around us, lights were coming on, but no one had come out to see what was happening. I wondered if anyone had called the cops, and how long it would take them to arrive if they had been called. I doubted Damon wanted any sort of interaction with the human police, and Coral sure as hell wouldn’t. She’d be desperate to get to her mate before dawn—and any delay would be a problem.

All sounds from the house suddenly ceased. Both the crashing of furniture and the gunshots had stopped, though water still cascaded through the shattered remains of the roof, and the guard was no closer to escaping it. I scanned the outside of the building, wondering what the hell was going on in there. I no longer had any sense of Damon—he’d slipped around to the rear of the house, beyond reach of my senses. I bit my lip, hating having to stand here, feeling like a fifth wheel with nothing important to do or contribute.

The front door of a neighboring house opened and an elderly woman peeked out. I shifted back into the shadows to ensure she couldn’t see me. She clutched her blue dressing gown close to her chest, peering out at the water, then shook her head and went back inside.

As her door closed, a muffled scream came from inside the shattered blue house, then another window exploded. This time it wasn’t broken by a chair, but rather a woman. She hit the ground awkwardly and clambered to her feet, running toward the trees and the metal fence beyond. But the blond man appeared in the window, gun raised and aimed at the woman’s back.

“Coral, drop,” I shouted, and reached for my fire, feeling it rip through my body—a maelstrom of deadly force that was eager and ready to be used.

As Coral threw herself to the ground, the gun swung my way. I thrust to my feet and flung the fire. The flaming ribbon arced across the night, the force of it all but drowning out the sound of the shot as the guard fired his weapon. I threw myself sideways and felt the burn of the bullet cut through the sleeve of my sweatshirt. Saw my flames hit the guard and wrap around both his arm and the weapon.

Then a black shadow engulfed him, and the guard disappeared from sight. I pushed away from the car and walked toward the fence. The dark-haired woman still lay on the grass where’d she’d fallen, her breath rapid and clothes soaked and bloody. I couldn’t see a wound on her back, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t one.

“Coral? Are you okay?”

She shifted and glanced up at me. Even in the darkness, her eyes seemed to glow with an unearthly sea green fire. “Who are you?” she said, her voice scratchy and holding only the slightest hint of a Scottish accent.

“Angus sent us,” I said. “He wanted us to rescue you.”

“But no one can rescue him now,” she said, her voice breaking a little. She pushed to her knees and tucked a wet strand of hair behind her ear. “You were with him when he died?”

“Yes.” I hesitated. “We caught the men who shot him. They’re on the boat with his body.”

That unearthly glow got brighter. “They’re alive?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

Though there was little emotion in her voice, it still sent a shiver down my spine. Those men were not long for the world if this sea dragon had anything to do with it.

And while I hadn’t actually saved them from Damon just so they could face this woman’s wrath, part of me could understand her need for revenge. If anything happened to my brother, I’d shift heaven and hell to find those responsible.

Heck, I was doing that now for Rainey.

The front door of the house opened and Damon appeared. Coral spun, her hand raised and the sensation of power suddenly surging across the night.

“No,” I said quickly. “He’s with me.”

She glanced at me, then lowered her hand. The energy died, and with it went the water that had been jetting through the roof. The guard fell with a scream that ended abruptly as his body snagged on one of the jagged rafters, hanging there like a limp piece of meat.

I tore my gaze away, trying to remember that these men really deserved what they got.

Damon walked toward us, his gaze on me rather than the woman kneeling in the grass. His clothes were wet but otherwise he seemed okay. Some of the tension still filling me slithered away—but not all of it. We still had to get out of here before the cops arrived.

“You okay?” he asked, his nostrils flaring as his dark gaze swept me.

“Yeah.” There was blood running down the inside of my sweatshirt, but only a trickle, so obviously I had just been grazed. “We’d better get out of here.”

“I can’t,” Coral said, and pulled down her turtleneck. Around her neck was a band of leather, to which a small black box had been attached. “I’m wired. I can feel the thing now—it’s like a dull fire waiting to explode into my brain. If I get any closer to the boundary, it’ll set this thing off. And it’ll kill me if I go past it.”

“Then we need to remove it,” Damon said, stopping just behind her.

She was shaking her head even before he’d finished.

“I tried that. Unless you’ve got the proper key, the thing just goes off.”

Damon frowned. “Do you know what sort of signal it is?”

“No, but the radius is a quarter of an acre, which is the size of this property, if that’s any help.”

“Maybe.” He glanced at me. “Meet us in the parking lot near the Bodega Bay marina. There are two, so look for the one with the RVs parked in the lot. It’s right near the beach off Highway One, so you shouldn’t have any trouble finding it.”

“The car is stolen,” I reminded him, crossing my arms and wondering what the hell he was up to now. “And the owners will probably be noticing its absence.”

“So steal another.”

He said that just like my brother would have. But then, a cavalier attitude toward other people’s property did seem to infect the dragon population. Even draman weren’t immune to it. “Why would I need to? Where are you going?”

“Most of these devices have a horizontal rather than vertical boundary. Rather than trying to break the lock, I think I should just fly her straight up and unlock it once we’re free.”

“You’re going to change form in the middle of a suburban street?” And he thought I was crazy?

“We have little choice.” He glanced at Coral. “It’s your neck. Are you willing to take the risk?”

She took a deep breath then released it slowly. “I need to get to Angus before dawn, so yes.”

“And you need to answer some questions first,” Damon said, then glanced over his shoulder as the wail of sirens began to shatter the silence. “You’d better go, Mercy.”

I didn’t move. “You’ll wait for me there?”

He hesitated, obviously knowing that I was referring to his questioning Coral, then nodded.

Something inside me relaxed a little. At least he was making an effort to treat me as a partner some of the time. As the blue fire began to crawl across his skin, I turned and walked across to the car. The curtains in the house opposite twitched—an obvious sign we were being watched. While the trees hid some of his shape-shift, there was little hiding the explosion of air as he launched skyward. But he was a black dragon surrounded by night, and I doubted the eyes of an old woman would even be able to see him.

And even if she could, who would actually believe her?

I climbed into the car and drove off. I was barely two blocks down the road when a police car screamed past, its flashing lights almost blinding in the darkness. While I knew Damon and Coral had already left, it didn’t stop the tension crawling through me. Luck really hadn’t been in our corner, and while the old woman probably hadn’t seen Damon clearly, she would have been able to see me.

I restrained the impulse to speed up and kept my pace sedate. The quickest way to attract unwanted attention was to do something idiotic—like speed away from an accident.

I switched cars in Sebastopol and continued on, making my way—with the help of the street directory stolen from the first car—to the Bodega highway and toward Bodega Bay.

I couldn’t immediately find them when I arrived, so I parked the car, then grabbed the pack and walked down the marina. Both he and Coral were sitting at the very end of the dock. He had his arm wrapped around her shoulders, and even though I knew there would be nothing intimate in the gesture, something inside me still twisted. Which was ridiculous, given I meant as little to the man as Coral did.

I walked down and sat beside her. “Did you get the transmitter off your neck?”

She pulled down her turtleneck. Only a red-raw strip of skin remained. “It took a while, but we managed it.” Her bright gaze met mine. “Thank you. Both of you.”

I sighed. “We’re here for a reason, Coral, and not just because Angus asked us.”

“I know. And because I owe you the debt of my life, I’ve resisted the call of my lover’s soul. But you need to ask your questions now, because I cannot stay long.”

“Why did those men snatch you and Angus?” Damon asked before I could say anything.

It seemed like a pointless question, because we already had the answer from Angus. But maybe Damon was simply making sure the old sea dragon had been telling the truth.

“You’ve seen his scars?” Coral asked, picking up a long splinter of wood and twirling it absently in her fingers.

“Yes.”

“We found one of the men responsible in a bar. Only it turned out it wasn’t him. He just sounded the same.” She grimaced, her gaze on the twirling splinter and tears bright in her eyes. “As luck would have it, although he hadn’t been involved in Whale Point’s destruction, he’d taken part in the more recent ones. So we paid for Angus’s mistake by being snatched, beaten, and almost killed. It was only when Angus mentioned he’d been contacted by a reporter about the recent cleansings that they let us live.”

“So he’d lied.” And convincingly, because Rainey and I hadn’t contacted him until the night they’d tried to run us off the road. And that was the contact they’d arranged to send us into their trap.

She raised an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t you?”

Well, yeah. “But why would Angus even think to give our names to them?”

“Because he’d heard from the friend of a friend that there were some reporters asking about draman from Stillwater.” She shrugged. “In the end, the lie didn’t really help us.”

And it certainly didn’t help us, I thought bitterly.

“You were always living on borrowed time,” Damon said.

“We knew that. And we did try to escape. But these men are smart, and we were each held accountable for the behavior of the other. Even when they released Angus, they watched him like a hawk. If he even looked like he was manipulating the sea, they would have killed me. It made escape extremely difficult.”

“So who is the man Angus thought he’d recognized?”

“I don’t know his name, and I don’t know whether he’s a major player or just another heavy. I’ve only ever seen him once. He was a tall man, with thinnish features, blue eyes, and reddish hair. He sometimes had a very cultured voice.”

“Sometimes?” I asked, eyebrows rising.

She glanced at me. “Yeah. Sometimes it slipped, revealing a more guttural, earthy tone. That was the voice Angus recognized.”

Seth had a guttural, earthy tone. But then, so did a lot of dragons in our clique, including our king. “Was he draman or dragon?”

“Dragon.”

Seth didn’t have red hair or blue eyes, but he was at least a dragon. Of course, he might very well be dead, so I had no idea why I kept going back to him as a suspect.

Except that whoever it was knew me, and they’d known about the freezer. And there were only five people who knew about that particular incident—me, Rainey, Seth, and the two thugs he’d used to help lock me in there. And neither of the thugs was bright enough to be in charge of this sort of operation.

Coral flicked the piece of twig from her fingers, watching it spin through the air before adding, “There is another man, but I’ve never heard his name. He was the one who gave the guards most of their orders.”

“Do you have any idea how we can find him?”

“Not really.” She paused. “But I think they did most of their business through some sort of club. I heard it mentioned a few times. Decadent, or something like that.”

Which jelled nicely with what the draman had already told us.

“And you can’t tell us more than that?” Damon asked.

“I wish I could,” Coral said. “Now, if you have no further questions, then I really need to go.”

“Angus called your family before he was killed,” I said. “They won’t be far away.”

She closed her eyes and whispered, “Then at least I’ll have someone with me when his soul moves on.”

Unlike Rainey, I thought, with tears suddenly in my eyes. I blinked them away, but the pain would not be so easily pushed aside this time. I hugged my knees close to my chest and tried to ignore the ache.

“I wouldn’t suggest hanging around long after dawn,” Damon commented. “These men appear to be cleaning up loose ends, and they will come looking for you.”

“Oh, have no fear of that. I’ll be heading home, and away from these shores.” She tucked a strand of multicolored hair behind her ears and gave us a wan smile. “Thank you again for what you’ve done. And for what you tried to do.”

She pushed to her feet. The sea reacted to her movement, the gentle waves suddenly splashing upward, reaching for her with foamy fingers, like a lover reaching for his mate after a long absence.

I glanced up at her. “Coral, don’t kill them.”

Her bright gaze met mine, then she nodded once and dived into the water.

Relief spun through me. Though she could do what she wanted to those men and I’d be none the wiser, something suggested that she’d keep her word.

“Those men do not deserve your pity,” Damon said, rising to his feet and brushing dust from his rear.

I followed the movement of his hands, admiring the way his jeans clung to the curve of his butt.

“What you’ve done to them is probably worse than death, Damon.” God, the mere thought of someone stealing my fire had my stomach churning. “How would you like to live like that? Knowing that the very thing that made you what you are had been snatched away?”

“They deserved the punishment.”

“Maybe, but they don’t deserve death on top of it.”

He studied me for a moment, his expression unreadable, then shook his head. “After all those scars, you can still live up to your name? I think that makes you truly unique.”

“Yeah,” I said dryly. “So unique you’re going to report me to the council and make them deal with me, and everyone like me. Meaning little old unique me will probably end up just like those men on the boat.”

“The council isn’t likely to steal the fire of every draman capable of it. But if the dragon gene is overriding the human one, we need to be aware of it.”

“Because we wouldn’t want all those half-breeds diluting the glorious bloodlines, now would we?”

“I have never said that,” he said, with more than a little exasperation in his tone, “so I’d appreciate it if you’d stop making statements like that.”

It was oddly satisfying to discover that Death could be annoyed, and I couldn’t help the smirk as I said, “So, what’s next?”

“Next, Miss Most Irritating, we find somewhere to stay for the night. It’s been a long day, and I need some sleep.”

The sudden twinkle in his dark gaze suggested sleep was the last thing he had on his mind right now, and the thought made my stomach clench with excitement. He reached down and offered me a hand. His fingers were warm against mine, his grip like steel and yet somehow gentle as he pulled me upright.

“We can’t walk into a hotel looking like something the cat’s thrown up,” I commented, halfheartedly trying to tug my fingers from his and not succeeding.

“I never said anything about staying in a hotel.” He turned around and tugged me alongside him. “There are plenty of vacation homes around, and at this time of year they’re not likely to be occupied. We’ll just pick one and help ourselves to the amenities.”

“And hope the cops don’t wander along to arrest our asses.” I didn’t actually expect an answer to that, and I didn’t get one. Normal dragons had an easy disregard for human law at the best of times, and Damon was far from normal. “How does one become a muerte?”

He raised an eyebrow, the beginnings of a smile teasing the corner of his mouth. “You do like asking the unexpected, don’t you?”

“It stops me from getting bored.”

“I’ll bet it annoyed the hell out of your brother when you were growing up.”

“That was part of the fun of doing it.”

He snorted, then released my fingers and wrapped his arm around my shoulders. Although the action was casual, my reaction was as far from that as you could get. My whole body hummed with anticipation.

“Sometimes it’s a family tradition,” he said eventually. “Sometimes it’s simply talent.”

“What sort of talent?”

“My clique has an innate ability to blend with the shadows. Those who become muerte have a higher degree of this skill than most.”

His fingers were teasing the top of my arm near where the bullet had clipped me, and it was inevitable that he’d eventually touch the patch sodden with half-dried blood. Sudden concern rippled through the air. “Why didn’t you tell me you’d been hit?”

“Because it’s barely a scratch, and definitely not worth worrying about.” I shifted my shoulder back a little, forcing his hand to drop closer to my breast. “So which one were you? Tradition or talent?”

“Both. And that wound needs cleaning, even if you do have dragon-fast healing.”

“So we’ll clean it once we find a house for the night,” I said, a touch impatiently. The man wasn’t going to wriggle out of telling me at least something about himself. Not this time. “Your father was a muerte?”

“Yeah. I was his only son, so I’ve basically been trained for the position since I could walk.”

The edge in his voice surprised me. I glanced at him, but his expression was as unreadable as ever. “It almost sounds like it wasn’t something you wanted to be.”

“I love what I do, but that’s not the point. I was never given the choice.”

“And if you had been? Would you have chosen to walk this path or not?”

“I don’t know.” He released me to jump off the marina, then grabbed my waist and lifted me down. We walked in silence through the dark RVs, and it wasn’t until we reached the road on the other side of the park that he added, “There was a time I contemplated a life that was more than shadows. A life filled with warmth and family and children of my own, but that foolishness vanished years ago.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Why would you consider wanting love and a family foolishness?”

“Because such things are not for the muerte.”

“Why the hell not? I mean, you exist, so somewhere along the line, love and family must have come into the equation.”

“I come from a long line of muerte who breed for necessity, not for love. My father bred three daughters from different women before he produced me. He had nothing further to do with the mothers of his other children. I became his sole focus.”

We crossed the road and moved through the trees lining the sandy hill. He obviously had a target in mind, even though we’d passed several perfectly good houses. Of course, they could have been occupied—a dragon’s senses were usually keener over long distances than a draman’s.

“Why the hell would your father’s other partners even put up with that?”

His mouth twisted and became a bitter thing. “Because in our clique, it is considered an honor for a woman to bear the child of a muerte—especially if that child is a male who goes on to become one of the shadow ones.”

“And I thought my clique had attitude problems.” These men were using dragon women as little more than incubators—and had them convinced it was a good thing! “But just because you come from a long line of men who refused to settle down doesn’t mean you’re destined to do the same. You have a choice, you know.”

“A muerte’s life is nomadic. And it is dangerous.”

“So?”

“So,” he said, slanting me a glance that sent a chill down my spine—and not because it was his usual scary, death-in-residence glance, but rather one that was briefly filled with a resigned and aching acceptance of a barren future. It was a familiar feeling—simply because it haunted the darkest of my dreams, too. “There are those who do not like what we do, and there is an active—if underground—plot to erase us. My father was murdered, as was his father. I have no doubt that will be my fate, too.”

“So you live like a monk until then? Why restrict yourself that way?”

His grin was sudden and decidedly wicked. “Oh, monks and I have nothing in common. As you’ll no doubt discover soon enough.”

“There you go again, getting ahead of yourself.” I let my hand slide across his butt until it slipped into the back pocket of his jeans. Even through the material I could feel the heat of him, the ripple of muscle as he moved. I wished it was skin-on-skin contact, but it was probably better that it wasn’t. Things might have gotten heated a little too quickly if it had been, and we still had to find somewhere decent to stay. Sandy soil was not a good bed, no matter how sexy the partner. “And we still haven’t gotten to the bottom of that whole respect thing yet.”

“Oh, I respect you,” he said, his voice a whisper through my soul. “In fact, I intend to respect every single inch of you. And more than once.”

Heat surged through my limbs at the thought, and I resisted the urge to fan myself. I needed to get this conversation back on track. Otherwise we were going to get down and dirty right here and now—sand or no sand.

“There are lots of men in dangerous jobs—cops, firemen, and soldiers, just to name a few—and they still allow themselves to love, and be loved.”

“But part of the power of a muerte is the fact that he has no family—and no loved ones—to fear for. There is no one in his life that can be used as a pawn in whatever game might be in play.”

“So what about when you stop being a muerte?”

“You don’t ever stop,” he said, amusement in his voice even as his fingers lightly brushed my nipple. “Generally, you’re just stopped.”

“Oh, come on, there has to be at least one muerte who has lived to a ripe old age.” God, it was amazing how normal my voice sounded considering my insides were all quivery and my knees were threatening to give way under the assault of that simple caress.

Time, I thought, to start causing some havoc myself.

I slipped my hand from his pocket, and moved up to the waist of his jeans, finding the edge of the material and slipping my fingers underneath, cupping his butt. And lord, it was a good butt—well shaped and firm.

“A good half of those trained don’t even live to see their middle years,” he commented, his tone warm and laced with amusement. “And you are making it impossible for me to walk.”

My gaze skimmed down his body and came to rest on the rather impressive bulge in his jeans. “That,” I commented cheekily, “doesn’t look large enough to be causing a problem.”

“Maybe not, but the fact that your arm is down the rear of my jeans and is tightening the material everywhere else is.”

“So are you saying I need to remove my hand?”

“No, I’m saying the house in the trees just ahead is looking mighty perfect for a break-in.”

I laughed. “And suddenly Death is sounding a little harried.”

“Death is as horny as hell.” The smile teasing his lips did all sorts of happy things to my body. “Shall we move along a little quicker?”

“Well, you can hurry all you like, but I need a bath first.”

“And a good hair-washing. It’s looking a little frazzled after being under that hat.” He glanced at me over his shoulder, his grin all cheek. “I’ll do that, if you like. I’m very good at it.”

I didn’t doubt that he was. And at other things, as well.

I let him tug me the rest of the way up the hill, our footsteps leaving sandy indentations behind.

But despite my eagerness to experience what this man had to offer, part of me wanted to delay that moment as long as possible. Maybe it was simply an urge to savor something I knew would be very intense, and yet very brief. There might be a strong attraction between Damon and me, but he’d already made it clear he wasn’t going to stick around for long.

But if that was long enough to find and stop the people behind the cleansings, then that would be enough. For Rainey and for me.

I ignored the mocking voice deep inside that called me a liar and studied the house looming through the trees. There weren’t any cars sitting in the driveway and there were no lights on. There was no sound or movement, either, but given the time of night, that wasn’t entirely surprising.

“Can you sense anyone?” I asked.

“Nope. But I want you to wait here while I go check the place out.”

“Damon, I can—”

“Yeah, yeah, heard it all before. Just humor me.” He removed his hand from my shoulder, then cupped my cheeks and dropped a gentle kiss on my lips. “Consider that a down payment for later.”

“Maybe. But only after the promised bath and hair-washing.”

“Deal,” he said, then turned and disappeared quickly into the night and shadows.

I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. Except for the occasional purr of an engine going past on the nearby highway and the haunting hoot of an owl, the night was quiet. I couldn’t see any other houses and there were none of the usual suburban sounds—no dogs barking, cats squawking, the rattle of street sweepers or garbage trucks doing their rounds. It would have been easy to believe that we were alone—and safe—but I knew better than that. These men—whoever they were—were dangerous, and they’d be more pissed off than ever now that we’d helped Coral escape. And they’d have to know we were involved with that—especially if they questioned the neighbors and learned that a big black dragon had been seen. The cops might dismiss the story, but our hunters wouldn’t.

I glanced at my watch and saw that only a few minutes had crept by. I sighed in frustration and shifted my weight again, wanting to feel the warmth and security of having four walls around me. Even if that security was a lie.

Another few minutes crept by, then awareness washed over me and heat prickled my skin. Damon’s shape formed out of the darkness, becoming clearer as he approached.

“That’s a very neat trick,” I said.

“And a handy one.” He wrapped his hand around mine and tugged me forward. “The house is ours, and the neighbors are far enough away that we should be able to light the fire and do some cooking. I won’t risk turning the lights on, though.”

“We don’t need lights when we have our own,” I commented. “What about my bath?”

The grin that flashed over his shoulder had my blood surging. Labeling it sexy didn’t do it justice by half. “All taken care off. I heated the water to boiling, so it should be just right by the time you step into it.”

“What about the second of my needs?” I said, then added with a grin, “And that would be food, in case you were wondering.”

His grin just grew. “Don’t worry, all your needs will be met. And the pantry is well stocked.”

Yeah, I thought impishly. Noticed that before. Even if I’d said otherwise.

We moved beyond the cover of the trees. The house was a pretty, two-story clapboard, painted a bright blue. I scanned the outside but couldn’t see anything resembling security. “Was it hard to break in?”

He shook his head. “They’ve got deadbolts on the front and back doors, and locks on the windows, but the patio door was just a plain catch. And the screen door didn’t have security mesh, just ordinary wire.”

He opened the door and ushered me inside. The room beyond was cold, but flickers of warm gold danced across the walls in the next room, providing enough light to see by. We’d entered into a large kitchen and breakfast area. I walked through to the next room and over to the fire. I might be able to create flames of my own, but there was something intrinsically satisfying about standing in front of an old-fashioned fireplace, warming the chill from your bones. I opened the backpack to check the netbook, then dropped it onto a nearby chair and held out my fingers to the flames.

But Damon caught my hand and pulled me away. “Enough with the fire,” he said crisply. “You have a carefully prepared bath waiting.”

I snorted softly, even though anticipation tightened my insides and made the simple act of breathing seem all the more difficult. “And what’s so careful about turning on a tap and heating the water?”

“This,” he said, and opened the door.

The bathroom itself was nothing out of the ordinary, but the bath was one of those huge, free-standing claw-foot things, filled almost to overflowing with bubbles. I gave him a grin and a quick kiss, then stripped and walked toward the bath. The moonlight filtering in from the window beyond gave me enough light to see by, but left enough shadows that I wasn’t overly self-conscious about my scars.

He followed and caught my hand, holding me steady as I stepped into the bath. The water was just shy of boiling, and I sighed in pleasure as the heat ran from my toes to my legs then spread out through the rest of me, warming my body almost as well as my fire did.

I slid my fingers from his, then dipped into the water, ducking briefly underneath the bubbles before letting my head rest against the bath’s end. I waved a hand, splashing water and rainbow bubbles across the tiles as I said, “You may now work your magic on my hair.”

He chuckled lightly and moved around behind me. There was a pause, then the whisper of clothes being removed. Though I hungered to see him naked, I wanted to enjoy the sensual experience he was offering more, so I just lay there and waited.

Cold liquid touched my scalp, then his fingers were in my hair, massaging the shampoo into fragrant-smelling foam. I closed my eyes and sighed in pleasure. I loved it when hairdressers massaged my scalp, but this experience was on another plane altogether.

Because this experience would ultimately lead to something much more satisfying.

He rinsed my hair then repeated the process with the conditioner, the press of his fingers against my head so wonderful that I murmured a protest when he finally stopped. He laughed softly and picked up a comb, gently sweeping away the tangles before rinsing my hair again.

“Kneel,” he commanded, his tone one that would brook no arguments.

Not that I was likely to offer any when he had me in such a relaxed state. I knelt, the water lapping at my waist, watching as he squeezed some gel into his large, strong hands. His gaze followed the droplets of water running down my body, then rose to linger on my breasts and puckering nipples. Lust stirred the air, caressing my skin as sweetly as an actual touch. Then his gaze came to mine, and the smile that curved his lips and crinkled the corners of his dark eyes just about sent my senses into overload.

“Beautiful,” he murmured. “Totally beautiful.”

“No one has ever called me that,” I said, blinking rapidly against the sudden, stupid sting of tears. Not just because of the words themselves, but because I believed them. It wasn’t a compliment thrown out casually for the purpose of lovemaking. I’d heard enough of those over the years to know when someone actually meant it.

“Then they are blind fools,” he said. “Now, close your eyes and turn around.”

I did, my breath catching as I waited for his touch, my body trembling when it finally arrived. Gently, carefully, he started massaging, beginning at the base of my neck then sweeping down my shoulders, the pressure just enough to ease away any tension that remained from a day of escapes and close calls.

He applied more gel to his hands then continued the sweeping caress, down my spine and sides, and across my butt. I ached for him to touch me more intimately, and yet I wanted to delay that moment for as long as possible. There was something very sweet about the agony of anticipation.

He grabbed a sponge from the basket at the side of the bath and dipped it into the water, then pressed it into my back, working the gel into such a lather that it dribbled down my spine and left me humming in pleasure.

“Turn around,” he said eventually.

I was only too happy to comply. He was kneeling in front of me, his body covered with droplets of water and soap that scooted down his well-defined abs and stomach, pooling briefly around the tip of his hard cock before moving on down his legs. I wanted to explore those glistening trails, wanted to linger where they had lingered.

I reached out, but he caught my hands and said, “No touching allowed. I have to finish respecting every inch of you first.”

I grinned and let my hand drop. “Then by all means, continue.”

He soaped his hands again, then gently spread the lather over my breasts and belly. My nipples hardened almost painfully and a shudder that was all pleasure rolled through me. His soapy caress slid all the way down to my hips, his thumbs gently—and all too briefly—teasing my clit. Then his fingers slipped upward again until his large hands cupped my breasts. I shuddered in enjoyment—a sensation that grew when he pinched my nipples between his thumbs and forefingers and gently began to pull and twist. Desire grew, until I was torn between wanting the delicious torment to go on and the need to feel his whole body on me, and in me.

Again his caress slid downward. My breath hitched, expectation thrumming, as his fingers teased the inside of my thighs. I spread my legs wider and softly, tantalizingly, his caress brushed me. I groaned, arching into the press of his hand, wanting more than just teasing. He laughed softly, his lips brushing mine as his fingers delved deeper, pushing into me, sending waves of pleasure lapping across my body. I wrapped my arms around his neck and deepened the kiss, exploring his mouth hungrily as his fingers probed and teased and delighted.

Then he pulled away so suddenly it left me dizzy. “Stand and face the wall,” he ordered, voice harsh with the rawness of desire.

I stood, trembling with anticipation and need. He rinsed the soap from my body then stepped into the bath behind me, the hardness of his erection nestled firmly against my butt. I pushed against him, loving the feel of him, but wanting more. His hands slid up my back then around to my breasts, cupping them, squeezing them, caressing them, until every inch of me was shuddering and the ache was a fire that burned through every fiber of my being.

“Enough,” I muttered, the words little more than a pant of air. “I need you. Now.”

“Good,” he growled, and touched the back of my feet with his toes.

I shifted, widening my stance and bracing my hands against the wall. He gripped my hips then thrust inside me, the heat of him piercing and delicious and oh-so-right. A sharp mix of longing and need ran through me as we began to move in rhythm—slowly at first, then gradually faster. Pleasure spiraled, until every muscle felt ready to shatter and I couldn’t even breathe, the intensity was so great.

His breathing became harsh, his tempo more urgent. His fierceness pushed me into a place where only sensation existed, and then he pushed me beyond it.

My orgasm hit, and I couldn’t think, only feel. And what I felt was unlike anything I’d ever felt before, because what I felt was a connection that went beyond flesh and pleasure. Far beyond it.

And that scared the hell out of me. But it also made me hungry for more.

Well, no one had ever accused me of being sensible.

For several minutes neither of us moved, our panting breaths filling the silence and our bodies still gloriously locked together. When he finally withdrew, I turned around and wrapped my arms around his neck, kissing him tenderly.

“How do you think I did on the whole respect thing?” he said, his lazy smile that of a man who knows full well that he’s done a good job.

I pretended to consider the question, then pressed up against him a little harder, delighted to feel he was already half erect again. “Well, as these things go, it wasn’t half bad.”

“Not half bad? Woman, you are crazy!”

I grinned. “No, I just remember a promise to respect the whole of my body, and it seems to me that half of me missed out.”

“Ah yes. The toes and legs,” he murmured. “Well, I guess we’d better go find a bed and tend to that problem immediately.”

We did, and he did.

And it was even better the second time around.

The fading moonlight played across Damon’s stain, highlighting the rich blues and deep purples in the black leathery strip that wove down his spine. I traced its journey with my fingertips, loving the cool, almost snakelike feel of the skin, which was such a sharp contrast to the heat of the rest of his body.

My fingertips reached the end of his stain, and I let them rest there at the base of his spine as my gaze followed the curve of his butt and traveled down the long length of his athletic legs to his feet. I’d never considered feet and toes sexy before, but this man was rapidly changing my mind. Like everything else about him, they were long, quietly powerful, and elegant.

“Don’t you ever sleep?” Damon said, his voice muffled by the depths of the pillow wrapped around his head.

“I’m not used to sleeping beside someone,” I said. “The heat woke me.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

I traced the curve of his butt with my fingers and gently teased at the junction of his legs. He twitched and heat stirred, bathing me with its warmth. “What? That you got so hot that it woke me?”

“No, not that. Though you have dragon blood, so the heat shouldn’t worry you.” He shifted his legs a little, allowing my fingers to slide between his thighs. “I meant that I find it hard to believe you’re not used to sleeping with someone. Especially given you seem to have an insatiable appetite when it comes to sex.”

I grinned. “Consider it a case of making full use of available opportunities before the drought begins again.”

“I don’t believe that, either.”

“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?

It meant the connection I’d felt last night was very real, and very strong. But it was also very useless in the long term. Because I was draman, and that would never change.

Damn it, I thought, blinking back the sting of tears, what had I done to fate to turn her into such a bitch? First she steals Rainey from me, then she throws me into the path of a man who could be everything I ever wanted, and yet who is everything I can never have.

Death was dangerous, all right, but not in the way Janelle had warned. Unless she had meant just this.

I crossed my arms and leaned against the window frame, my gaze on the curve of the road and tension thick in my gut. Sure enough, after a few minutes, the white car reappeared. I stepped back a little more behind the cover of the lace curtains, but the car slowed anyway. It didn’t stop, but it was just creeping past. I swore softly and opened my mouth to warn Damon, but the car took off before the words could emerge. This time, it didn’t disappear up the sea road, but turned left and disappeared into the trees lining the street that ran past the house.

I turned and ran for the bathroom. Damon was toweling himself dry, but stopped the minute I burst in.

“He’s stopped?” he asked, voice brusque and body still glistening with moisture.

“Worse. He’s turned down this street.”

He swore softly, then tossed the towel down on the rim of the bath. “Go out the back door and head down to the trees, following the path we took up here. I’ll meet you at the car in ten minutes.”

“What will you be doing?” I pressed back against the door as he passed, then followed him back into the bedroom, watching as he, too, went through the closets.

“Taking care of our problem.” He glanced at me, his expression like stone. “And do not tell me to go easy on the bastard. He tried to kill you once, and he may just succeed the second time.”

There wasn’t anything I could say to that. He was right. This was the best option open to us, but it still didn’t sit right. I didn’t want to kill, didn’t want to be a part of it. Didn’t want him to be a part of it, even if it was his job.

That was just plain stupid. The man was never going to change who and what he was, especially for someone like me.

Besides, these people had killed Rainey, Angus, and countless others in the draman towns. So why the hell was I giving them such consideration when they’d given absolutely none to anyone else?

Even though my mouth was dry at the thought of what I was condoning, I nodded, then leaned forward and kissed him quickly. “Be careful.”

He smiled and cupped his hand to my cheek, his flesh so warm against mine. “I’d offer you the same warning, but I’ve got a feeling it’ll probably fall on deaf ears.”

I couldn’t help grinning. For a man who didn’t really know me very well, he’d sussed out that part of my nature easily enough. “Don’t worry about me. I can—”

“Take care of yourself,” he finished for me, voice dry. “Yes, I know. But a little bit of caution never hurts.”

“For you, I’ll try.” I kissed him again, my lips lingering a little longer than necessary, then with a sigh, I turned and made my way down the stairs.

I peered out the side door for a long time, my gaze probing the shadows still lurking among the trees to make sure no dragons were hiding within.

When I was sure it was safe, I scooted out, running across the grass as fast as I could, feeling exposed and vulnerable even though I knew I wasn’t. But I’d seen the lengths to which these bastards would go, and deep inside I couldn’t escape the notion that sooner or later, my turn would come.

Fear ran through me, but I pushed it aside, concentrating instead on slipping through the trees as quietly as possible. The day might be stirring, but the immediate vicinity was quiet, with little moving except the wind through the leaves. Dawn’s energy was fading, leaving a sparkly resonance that tingled across my skin. I slipped down the slope, moving from shadow to shadow, my gaze skimming the path ahead even as I strained to hear if anything was coming up behind me. But everything continued to be silent.

When I neared the road, I slowed, keeping to the protection of the trees until I knew for sure it was safe to cross. I ran into the RV park and remained as close as possible to protection, be it the RVs or the trees, until there was little other choice but to step into the open and walk the rest of the way to the car.

But just as I was about to, one of the shadows moved.