Mercy Burns

Chapter Four

Damon barely stopped the door from crashing back against the wall. He looked at the melted bolt, at the strings of still glowing metal trailing from it, then at me. In the darkness, his eyes burned with an unearthly heat.

“That’s an amazing thing you did there,” he said, voice so soft it barely carried.

“Yeah.” I blew out a breath and forced my shaking knees to lock. We weren’t free yet, and as much as I wanted to sit down and recuperate, that wasn’t an option right now. “Where are those men?”

He glanced up the stairs. “One to the left, one outside.”

“I’m not going to be of much use on the fighting front at the moment.”

His lips twitched, hinting at a smile, and for the second time that night, my breath hitched in reaction. I had an odd feeling this man didn’t smile a whole lot, and that was probably a good thing if my reaction to the merest hint of one was anything to go by.

And that reaction was troubling. The last thing I needed was an attraction to a dangerous man—not when such an attraction had gone wrong so often in the past.

“You’ve upheld your end of the bargain. Time for me to uphold mine.” He flexed his arms and his smile faded, his lips becoming as cold and harsh as his expression. “Wait here.”

He didn’t give me time to answer. He simply turned and melted into the darkness—a shadow that made no sound as he flowed upward and disappeared.

I grabbed the door and swung it closed again, just in case one of the men walked past the stairs. I trusted Damon to do his job, but even Death couldn’t be in two places at once. It’d be just my luck that I’d get discovered on the verge of escape.

I pressed back against the wall, hoping the shadows were deep enough to cover my presence. And then I realized that was totally stupid. I mean, the guards were dragons. They’d sense me down here in the shadows regardless. I was better off hoping that I regained fire strength quickly so that I’d at least have something to protect myself with.

A clock ticked loudly into the silence and, as the minutes stretched, I wondered what was going on upstairs. I wondered if Damon was taking care of the men or simply getting the hell out. Maybe I was doing him an injustice by thinking that, but there’d been so many other dragons over the years who—in one way or another—had let me down.

I’m not sure how long I stood there before the awareness that something was wrong began to steal through my soul. I pressed back harder against the brick wall, the chill of it seeping into my spine, making me feel colder than I’d ever thought possible.

I stared at the stairs, hating the fact that I didn’t know what was happening up there. I took one step upward then stopped. I’d been told to wait here and it made sense to do so—especially given my fires were still little more than embers.

But if things had gone wrong—if Damon had been too weak to take care of both men—then staying here meant I’d be caught, too. And given I’d basically rendered the lock useless, who knew what they’d do to keep us still and quiet until tomorrow night?

I bit my lip, then slowly climbed the stairs, my heart racing so hard it felt like it was going to tear out of my chest as I strained to hear the slightest sound.

But nothing and no one else seemed to be moving.

Besides the clock, the house was deathly quiet. I reached the top step and paused. My dragon senses still weren’t providing much in the way of information, which was damn frustrating because I really could have done with a little extra help.

But then, that was practically the story of my life. Things never went the way I wanted or expected them to.

Like Rainey. I pushed away the flare of pain and tried to concentrate on the here and now.

I peered carefully around the corner. Darkness lay to my right, but to the left, muted light filtered through huge ceiling-to-floor windows, highlighting the dust on the wooden floors and giving the cobwebs hanging from the cornices a silvery edge. Obviously, Albert and Jay weren’t all that into housekeeping.

I looked at the darker end of the corridor. No windows, no filtered light. Nothing to indicate anyone or anything might be nearby.

It was the perfect place to hide.

Whether someone was, I couldn’t say. My radar for that sort of information was still off-line. Which meant, unfortunately, there was only one way I was going to find out.

I slipped off my shoes, holding them in one hand while I felt along the wall with the other. Normally, dragons—and draman—could see pretty well in the darkness, but with my energy levels so low, it seemed “human” sight was all I was going to get.

My fingers hit a door frame and I hesitated. The clock’s ticking suddenly seemed louder, and it was coming from beyond this doorway. I peered around cautiously. Floral patterned drapes framed the deep-set windows opposite, beyond which glowed the sullen, muted fire of an outside light. Little else was visible through the glass. The fog was too thick.

I scanned the small room, noting the plush chairs and mahogany furniture, the bookcases lined with books. This was someone’s home rather than just a place being used as a prison.

I moved past the doorway and continued on. The ticking began to recede and the silence seemed to grow thicker. Another doorway—this time the entrance to a dining room that held a table longer than my entire kitchen. After checking it was empty, I moved on.

The hallway hooked left and led into the kitchen. On the floor lay a lanky, dark man, the remains of a cup in his left hand and a pool of dark liquid gradually spreading out across the tiled floor. Ten feet beyond him lay Damon.

I swore under my breath and ran over, squatting down beside him and quickly touching his neck for a pulse. It was there, but felt too quick, as if his heart was straining. His skin was cool and edging toward clammy again, meaning the heat I’d loaned him hadn’t been enough to keep him going. This wasn’t surprising considering he’d been locked up for thirteen days, and that he had stopped me before I’d really had a chance to fuel him properly.

I lightly pinched his cheek, trying to get a response. He made a sound low down in his throat—a soft growl that echoed across the silence—but otherwise didn’t move. But we couldn’t stay here. Even if Damon had managed to take care of the second guard before he’d collapsed, there was no saying that Angus or someone else wasn’t near.

I leaned down close. “Damon, we need to get out of here.”

He didn’t respond. I pinched his cheek again, harder this time, and he jerked away from my touch. His eyes flew open but his dark gaze was unfocused and his pupils large.

Behind us, something buzzed, and my heart jumped into my throat. I swung around, and saw the transmitter on the bench.

“Jay, where the hell are you? You were supposed to relieve me five minutes ago.”

Though the voice was filled with annoyance, I recognized it nonetheless. It was the man with the silky voice—the one who’d looked forward to questioning me.

God, we had to get out of here. Now, before that man came up to check what was going on.

I pressed a hand against Damon’s chest and reached for the fires deep inside me. They were still little more than smoldering embers, but I grabbed for them anyway, forcing the heat down through my fingers and into Damon’s body. It left me cold and slightly dizzy, but he jerked under my touch and the unfocused look left his eyes.

“Jay, if you’re asleep,” that silky voice said again, “I’m going to kick your fucking butt.”

The anger in the guard’s voice was sharper. If he came up here to see what was going on, we’d be in trouble.

“We need to go,” I said, pulling my hand from Damon’s still cool flesh. He needed sunlight desperately. The little amount of heat he was getting from me just wasn’t enough to keep his body going for very long.

I rose. My head spun again, but I resisted the urge to grab at the nearby countertop and offered him a hand instead. He ignored it and pushed to his feet, his jaw thrusting out and determination evident in the fierce glint in his eyes.

“Wait,” he said, and staggered across to the man on the floor.

He dropped down beside him, his knees splashing into the edges of the coffee spill, and pressed a hand against the unconscious guard’s chest. Flickers of flame jumped from the guard’s skin to Damon’s fingertips, and I realized that he was stealing the man’s heat.

This was not a practice that had council approval—in any way, shape, or form—but I couldn’t lend him more of my own heat, and if we were to have any hope against the remaining guard, then Damon needed to gain some strength.

I crossed my arms and glanced across at the outside doorway, half expecting the other guard to burst in and catch us. He didn’t, but that didn’t stop the nerves or the crawling need to be gone.

“Okay,” Damon said eventually. He pushed to his feet and stepped across the prone guard, who had a distinctly ashen cast to his features now. He’d be weak when he came to, and I couldn’t be unhappy about that, not when our escaping could depend on it.

Damon caught my hand, his fingers wrapping around mine. His flesh was far warmer than before, his grip firm. Part of me wanted to steal some of that heat for myself, but I resisted the temptation. He needed it. I didn’t.

We moved quickly through the rest of the kitchen and out a side exit. Stairs ran down into the darkness and small garden lights curved away from the house, their brightness muted by the fog.

We ran down stairs, trying to be as quiet as possible, but the wooden steps rattled and the sound creaked across the foggy silence. We’d barely reached the main path when a flicker of awareness ran across my senses, signaling someone up ahead. Obviously, my dragon senses were slowly coming back online. A heartbeat later, a bright light pierced the darkness, sweeping across the trees and the stony path, missing Damon’s toes by inches.

He didn’t say anything, simply pulled me off the path and into the trees. I couldn’t see the point of hiding. The man ahead was a dragon, which meant he’d sense us in here anyway. Though I guess the trees did give us one advantage—it was harder for the guard to get off a decent shot if he was carrying a weapon.

And he probably was. Full dragons couldn’t flame at night, so carrying a gun was probably the next best option, even if it was unusual for a dragon to do so.

Stones crunched softly up ahead. Damon released my arm, then bent and grabbed a fallen branch, hefting it lightly, as if testing its heaviness and maneuverability. The footsteps slowly drew closer. The guard might not know who was in the trees, but he knew someone was.

Damon tossed the limb across the path and into the trees opposite. It landed with a crash, scattering leaves as it fell to the ground.

The footsteps stopped. Damon touched my shoulder, his fingers warm against my skin. As I looked up, he grabbed the nearest tree branch, shaking it lightly but making no noise. Then he raised two fingers. When I nodded, he melted back into the darkness and disappeared.

I couldn’t sense him, even though my senses were humming with the presence of the guard up ahead. I shivered. Obviously, the man who’d called himself Death had a few skills up his sleeve the rest of us didn’t know about.

But his departure meant I was now alone and feeling rather vulnerable. Which I wasn’t, of course—at least, under normal circumstances.

The footsteps resumed, edging up the path toward me. The bright flashlight swept across the darkness, moving ever closer. I raised a hand and gripped the tree branch above my head, my knuckles almost white with tension.

The light pierced the nearby shadows and my heart just about jumped into my throat. I licked dry lips and watched as it moved on, slowly sweeping across the trees, drawing ever closer.

Two minutes seemed to be taking forever.

The beam of light hit my tree and stopped. Tension slithered through me and my legs twitched with the need to move. While I was protected by the width of the trunk and several lilac bushes, he didn’t actually have to see me to know I was there. His dragon senses would be screaming with the knowledge. Whether he actually realized it was me, or whether he simply thought I was an intruder, didn’t really matter. He’d know I was here, and that meant time had run out, whether or not Damon’s two minutes had passed.

I dropped my weight onto the branch, dragging it down and then letting go. The branch sprang upward, creating a whole lot of noisy distraction. The light jumped around the tree, piercing the shadows in which I stood. I ducked down behind the bush and held my breath, waiting.

For a moment, nothing happened, but my awareness of the guard was so strong it was painful. Then a hand reached over the green leaves of the lilac bush and grabbed at my shirt. “Got you,” the man with the silky voice said.

There was a whoosh of air and the guard released me so suddenly that my butt hit the ground, jarring my side and sending pain shooting through the rest of my body. I ignored it, trying to watch the two men fight, but the darkness and the lilac bushes made it all but impossible. So I shifted position, getting ready to run should Damon go down again, my breath catching in my throat and tension winding through me.

After several more grunts, silence fell, silence that seemed to stretch on and on, sawing at my nerves.

Then the bush moved and I jumped, half turning to run before I realized it was Damon. His shirt was in shreds and he was covered in dirt and smears of blood, but he was still on his feet and his skin had a warmer glow than before. But heat wasn’t all he’d stolen from the guard. He’d also taken his coat and sweater.

He held the sweater out to me. “You need to keep warm.”

I hesitated, then somewhat reluctantly took it. It smelled of musk and sweat, and had my nose wrinkling in distaste. But with my internal fires barely even embers, the sweater would at least keep the night’s chill at bay.

“You took your time taking care of that guard,” I said, as I pulled the sweater on. “I would have thought Death would be a little more efficient.”

He raised an eyebrow as he dragged on the coat, his expression an odd mix of amusement and disdain. “It’s better to take your time and do something properly than rush and end up with a half-assed job.”

I was tempted to point out that a half-assed job was better than remaining here any longer than necessary, but I resisted. “Just because you can’t sense any other guards out there doesn’t mean there aren’t any.”

His dark eyes glinted dangerously. “Trust me; I’m trained to know these things. There’s no one else nearby, and the guard beyond that bush is currently fighting hibernation.”

He held out his hand. I hesitated, then placed my fingers in his, noticing that not only was his skin far warmer, but the underlying tremor that had been evident the last time he’d stolen heat was absent.

It made me wonder just how much he’d stolen and whether hibernation was the worst of the guard’s problems right now—made me wonder just what the man called Death was really capable of.

But if these men had been involved in Rainey’s death, they certainly deserved whatever Damon had dished out to them. And even if they hadn’t, I very much doubted whether compassion or kindness was what they’d planned for me tomorrow. The welts on Damon’s body were evidence enough of that.

We walked on through the garden until an archway covered by some sort of vine loomed. Damon led me though the green gateway then turned left, following the footpath with long, sure strides. Trees lined either side of the street, their leafy tops lost to the ever-moving fog. The houses were little more than large, somewhat vague, outlines, but even so, I recognized where we were. I’d done a write-up on one of the homes in this area last year.

“We’re in the St. Francis Wood area, near Terrace Park,” I said softly. I’d been right—Angus hadn’t driven very far at all. We hadn’t even left San Francisco.

“Have you got somewhere safe to go?” Damon asked. “You can’t go home. That’s the first place they’ll look.”

Fear twisted through me. I hadn’t gotten as far as thinking what I would do now that I was free. Hadn’t gotten as far as thinking what they might do.

“Do you really think they’ll come after me?” Even as I asked the question, I knew the answer. I had firsthand experience of how far they were willing to go. But I was hoping he’d deny the truth, give me false hope, if only for a moment or two.

I should have known a trained assassin would never do something like that.

“They kidnapped you for a reason. I doubt they’re going to just give up.”

My gaze flicked around, searching the foggy shadows for assailants I knew weren’t there. Not yet, anyway.

“But I don’t know anything.” That probably wasn’t the point. They knew I was trying to track down the culprits behind the cleansings—and given the lengths to which they’d already gone to keep their secrets, that would surely be more than enough reason for them to do whatever it took to stop me.

Although again, it begged the question, why kidnap me rather than just kill me?

What was so different now than two days ago, when they’d tried to kill both Rainey and me?

“Understanding the motives of evil men is often a difficult thing,” Damon said, philosophically.

I looked up at him. His prominent nose gave his face a sharpness that should have been less than appealing. Instead, his features suggested strength and courage—much like the character of the man himself, I suspected. “We could go to the police. Tell them that those men kidnapped us.”

It might work—might being the operative word. And really, could I afford to waste the time? Even if the cops caught our kidnappers, that still left at large the man in charge and the man who’d driven the truck, and it was them I needed caught.

No, not just caught. Dead.

A shiver ran through me. I rubbed my arms, raising static and causing sparks to fly from my fingertips. They spun across the darkness—bright chips of fire that were all too quickly snuffed out.

Much like Rainey.

“You could try,” he said, “but I very much doubt our captors would still be at the house by the time the cops got there.”

“I could give them the name of the man who drugged me.”

“His word against yours. And I bet he’ll have a watertight alibi.”

That was almost funny, given we were talking about a sea dragon. “So we’re just going to do nothing?”

“What you’ll be doing is keeping out of their way.” His voice held the whip of command. “I’ll sort out the problem of our kidnappers.”

Anger rose and I clenched my free hand against it. I should have been used to dragon men bossing the rest of us around, yet it still irritated the hell out of me. But then, I guess it was something of a family trait to defy authority. My brother didn’t exactly take to being told what to do, either.

“Considering how well you were doing on your escape plan before I got there,” I said, voice dry and holding little to hint at the annoyance, “that might not be such a good idea.”

“If you have so little faith in me, then why are you still here?”

His tone was amused, though there was little to be seen in his expression, which was as forbidding as ever.

“We’re not out of the woods yet,” I said. “You might still come in handy.”

Besides, I did trust him. To an extent, anyway. That was odd, considering I very rarely trusted anyone—and especially not strangers. But there was something about this man—something about his calm, dark strength that sparked a hint of faith.

“Despite the heat I stole, I may not be up to the task if we get hit again.” He slanted me a glance that said our kidnappers had better not be on our trail—not if they valued their lives. “And you didn’t answer my question.”

I must have looked confused, because he added, “About somewhere safe to go.”

“Oh. I can go to my brother’s.” He probably wouldn’t be there, but I knew the security code and could get past the additional deadlock easily enough.

Damon didn’t look happy with my answer. “That might not be the wisest move. It’s not hard to look in the phone book for his address.”

“He’s my half-brother. And he’s not listed.”

“Then that’s a little better.” He contemplated the fog ahead for a moment, and though there seemed to be little to threaten us, his tension was a living thing, filling the soupy darkness with a dangerous energy.

But I really hoped no one else came after us. I’d had enough excitement for one day.

“Where does your brother live?” he added, his gaze coming back to me.

“Parkside. Twenty-ninth Avenue, near Taraval.”

“Then we can get you home easily?”

“We can,” I said. “But don’t feel obliged to escort me. I can look after myself.”

“Consider it payback for getting me out of that place,” he said, a smile playing around the corners of his lips.

My pulse did a happy little dance at the sight and I dragged my gaze away. It had to be a leftover effect of the drugs, combined with the fact that I hadn’t eaten much. Nothing else.

I didn’t want it to be anything else.

We headed toward the shell-like construction that was West Portal Station and waited for the next train. It wasn’t empty; they never were. We sat in silence and were left alone—not surprising, given that his stolen coat couldn’t quite cover the bruised and bloody state of his body.

But even on the train, where there was little threat to either of us, his tense alertness never dissipated. By the time we reached my brother’s building, I was beginning to jump at shadows myself.

Damon stopped at the bottom of the steps and looked up at the mustard-colored building. “No one appears to be home.”

“No. But I’ll be all right.”

“Are you sure?” His gaze met mine, and though there was nothing to see but distant coldness in those dark depths, there was an edge of concern in his voice. Or maybe it was my imagination, and sudden unwillingness to be left alone.

Which was stupid. Those men couldn’t possibly track me down so quickly. They might have my driver’s license and press card, but I didn’t even keep a photo of my brother in my wallet, so how would they know about him, let alone suspect I’d come here?

If they got your phone number, an inner voice whispered, then they can get your brother’s address.

Fear swirled, but I stomped on it firmly. Even if they did have a hotline to my mom, I doubted she’d give them Trae’s address, which meant I was safe enough here for the moment. But the thought of losing my defender still filled me with an odd sort of fear.

“I’ll be fine,” I said, more to myself than Damon.

He studied me for a moment, and the tension I’d sensed in him earlier sharpened to an awareness that was all sexual. It thrummed through the night, and burned through me. Gleamed in his dark eyes.

I couldn’t ignore that awareness, no matter how much I might have wanted to.

He leaned forward until his face was near mine and his mouth was so close I could taste his breath against my lips. It was warm and dry and it drew me even closer, until our lips were almost touching.

“Thank you,” he said softly, and then he kissed me. Lightly, sweetly.

I closed my eyes, gently moving into the kiss. Savoring the contact. Wanting more and yet, at the same time, fearing it.

And oh, it was so good. So delicious that my body hummed in response and my legs felt weak.

But it ended all too soon. By the time I’d opened my eyes again, Death had disappeared into the foggy darkness.