Darkfire Kiss (24 page)

In a way, Rafferty was glad to be alone with his mate. He studied her, noting the curiosity and intelligence in her eyes, then acknowledged that it felt right to make this confidence. “Let me tell you a story,” he said, and was rewarded by her smile.

Eileen pivoted in the doorway and stared at him. Rafferty saw her awareness that he was openly defying Erik, and he had no doubt that Erik, too, had heard as much.

“Ooo, a story. I’m not missing this,” Eileen said, and abruptly sat down at the table again, Zoë in her lap. “Is there more coffee?”

E
rik stretched out on the bed without getting undressed. He closed his eyes and welcomed whatever vision the world would bring to him. It took a moment to still his thoughts and slow his pulse. He was exhausted. He was frazzled. He felt pulled in a hundred directions, and he didn’t know the right choice to make.

He wasn’t sure there
was
a right choice.

Erik reached out to the
Pyr
.

He found Delaney, watchful at home in Ohio. That
Pyr
stood guard over his mate and son, vigilant at the farm he had chosen to make his home. Erik understood that Delaney would not come to the firestorm. He had a confidence that Rafferty would not need any aid in satisfactorily concluding his firestorm.

Erik believed and feared the same thing. Rafferty, of all of them, would surrender the most to the lure of the firestorm. Would he betray them all in pursuit of his mate’s affection?

That Delaney didn’t imagine his presence being necessary was a change. Did that strange blue-green firestorm give the
Pyr
unwarranted confidence?

Did it threaten their chances of success? Erik was coming to fear as much, but he sought the other
Pyr
.

He found Donovan, somewhere in the west of England. That he was traveling west surprised Erik, although Donovan’s purpose was hidden to him. He still could sense that
Pyr
’s resolve, knew that Alex and Nick were with him, and wondered at Donovan’s destination. At least Donovan was close. He could be summoned if Rafferty needed him.

But would Donovan come? Erik wasn’t as sure as he once would have been.

He found Quinn, still and determined. The fire burned bright on the hearth of the home in Michigan that Quinn and Sara shared, and Sara was curled in Quinn’s lap. Their fingers were knotted together over her belly as she dozed in Quinn’s embrace, and Erik felt her shiver despite the blaze of the fire.

Erik understood. The Seer was pregnant and she was cold. Perhaps she felt the influence of the darkfire. The Smith, though, respected the darkfire enough to be wary of it, especially when his mate carried his second son. Again, Quinn had faith that Rafferty would not need his services to successfully navigate the challenge of the firestorm—and he was determined to not bring Sara close to the darkfire.

Quinn had chosen, and he would not come to Rafferty’s firestorm. Erik was not reassured, although he understood what it was to be torn between one’s priorities. If Rafferty lost a scale over his mate, would it condemn him? The Smith would not be present to repair Rafferty’s armor, which was a troubling prospect.

Erik found Niall, annoyed yet again with Thorolf. At least that was familiar. Erik could understand Niall’s reaction well enough, and he trusted Niall to both guard Rox, his mate, and shelter the inexperienced
Pyr
.

Erik found Thorolf snoring in the spare bedroom of the apartment Niall and Rox shared. Erik was relieved not to have to worry about that member of his group. The firestorm could spare Niall and Thorolf, if Niall kept Thorolf hidden in the short term.

Erik found Sloane and winced at the heat of the argument that had already erupted between Sloane and Brandt, his cousin. They had fought and injured each other; although both had bled, they had also survived. Erik knew he could have gone himself. He had thought it better to come to Rafferty.

Now Erik wasn’t sure.

At least he’d been right that Brandt wouldn’t injure Sloane.

He felt Brandt’s progress, in his own direction, and he knew his vision of the future had had some merit.

Erik could not find Lorenzo, which was undoubtedly exactly what the other
Pyr
wished. Irritation grew in Erik, but he dismissed it, trying to maintain the state in which he could see beyond his own circumstance. If ever he had needed his gift of foresight, this was the moment.

Of Drake and the Dragon’s Tooth Warriors, there was no sign. Not so much as a shadow. Erik shivered, for he could not explain their disappearance.

Darkfire burned, tickling at the edge of Erik’s thoughts, incessant and seemingly eternal. It unraveled everything, putting his convictions of how matters should be—and would be—in doubt. The
Pyr
were scattered and divided, torn between their obligations. They were revealed. They were in peril. Even loyal Rafferty was defying Erik’s council. Erik and Rafferty had disagreed before, but this went deeper.

And it had only begun. Where would it stop?

Why had it started? Erik feared that Lorenzo knew far more secrets than even Erik had imagined, just days before.

That wasn’t good.

Erik had failed as leader of the
Pyr
. He effectively led them no longer. With that realization, he guessed one more change the darkfire would make. He had believed he could defeat Brandt, if Brandt chose to fight over the broken blood oath, but now, now Erik gave credence to the vision he’d had in the desert.

He’d seen himself in the company of the dead.

In his mind’s eye, the ghost of Sigmund, his lost son, appeared. Erik grimaced at the reminder of yet another of his failures. He’d failed as a father the first time, for Sigmund had turned
Slayer
. Was Zoë losing her fledgling powers because he was failing her as a father, as well?

He did not want to join his son in any kind of afterlife. He didn’t want to die. But Erik recalled that he had spoken to his dead son once before in a dream. He dared to hope that Sigmund brought him council.

Or tidings.

“
The Sleeper stirs
,” Sigmund murmured, his old-speak soft.

“I never knew of him before Lorenzo. I thought it was another trick.”

“Not a trick but a spell. The spell is the reason you need to find the crystals.”
Sigmund had once collected old secrets and myths. He had an intimate understanding of the lore of the
Pyr
and had gathered more of it than any other.

Erik trusted his son’s knowledge, but he wanted more. He sat up, casting old-speak at his son, hearing his own urgency.
“What crystals?”

“The Cantor’s crystals. Once there were three, a legacy passed from Cantor to Cantor. One created the Sleeper. One held the darkfire. Who has the third?”

“But what power does the third crystal possess?”

Sigmund smiled and shook his head. His figure began to fade away.
“Old secrets are the best kind, don’t you think?”

“No!” Erik cried aloud. “You can’t leave yet!”

Sigmund continued to fade, quickly becoming no more substantial than a wisp of fog. “
But who
is
the Sleeper?
” Erik demanded, feeling that the rules had changed without warning.

Sigmund didn’t answer.

He simply disappeared.

When Sigmund had completely vanished, Erik threw himself back on the bed in dismay. Then he overheard Rafferty’s words from the kitchen.

“Let me tell you a story,” Rafferty said in the kitchen below, and Erik’s heart sank.

“No,” he whispered to himself. “Don’t tell her more.”

“
Rafferty promised to keep the Sleeper’s secret
,” Sigmund whispered. Erik couldn’t see him anymore, but his words could have been uttered against Erik’s ear.
“But darkfire breaks all vows.”

“But he’s never told me!”

There was no reply. Erik opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling, knowing that Sigmund had left him to his fate knowing that a sea change was in progress. He listened to Rafferty.

There was little else he could do.

Did Rafferty know about the three crystals, too?

Where was the third one?

And why did it matter?

Melissa sat with pencil poised, waiting for Rafferty to begin. She hadn’t missed that Rafferty was breaking rank with Erik in telling her anything more. She was pleased and excited that he intended to confide in her.

But Rafferty had fallen silent, a frown between his brows. “Well?” she prompted, fearing he was changing his mind.

“I’m trying to decide where to start,” he said with a small smile.

“At the beginning,” Eileen suggested. “And soon, before I fall asleep.” She grinned. “Not to be pushy or anything.”

Rafferty nodded. “Yes. I need something to tell this best.” He left then, leaving the women blinking at each other. Melissa heard him go to the library.

He returned a moment later, holding the same large quartz crystal he’d had in his hand when Melissa had first found him in the library. It was six inches long and a good three inches wide, precisely formed and clear. One end came to a point while the other was ragged, as if it had been broken free of a rocky mooring. It fit perfectly in Rafferty’s hand.

When Rafferty displayed it on his palm, Melissa saw the blue light still flickering in its core.

It looked like a spark, a crackling electrical fire, no more than half an inch across. Now, it burned steadily, never dying, and never flaring brighter.

Why had it blazed so brightly before?

“Is that darkfire, too?” Eileen breathed.

Rafferty nodded. “As guardian of the Sleeper, I was entrusted not only with his defense, but with this stone that reflects his state,” he explained. “For centuries, it has shone only a single dot of blue light.” He inclined his head toward Melissa. “This flare first appeared this morning, while you were sleeping.”

“That’s what you were worried about.”

He stared at the crystal. “It’s even brighter now.”

“Because the firestorm still burns?” Eileen asked.

“I don’t know,” Rafferty admitted. “I do know that it means the Sleeper stirs. It means the rate of his pulse and his breath has changed.” He pursed his lips, pausing for a moment before continuing. “It means he is closer to wakefulness than he has been in centuries, if not wide awake.” His voice dropped low. “My grandfather called him Cysgwr.”

“Is that his name?” Melissa asked.

Rafferty shook his head. “It’s his state or maybe his role. It means Sleeper in Welsh, the only language my grandfather spoke.”

He turned the crystal in his hands, frowning as if lost in memories. Melissa had seen that expression on his face before and guessed the direction of his thoughts. She’d glimpsed before that he was fond of his grandfather. Maybe that made the story hard to tell.

“Your grandfather gave you the crystal, didn’t he? He entrusted you with the role of guardian of the Sleeper.”

“No,” Rafferty said, to her surprise. “He tried to give me that task, but I refused him. It was the only argument we ever had, and those words of anger were the last words we exchanged.” He put the crystal down on the table, as if unable to hold it any longer.

Melissa could understand the burden of having parted badly. She’d been there and done that. She stretched out a finger to touch the crystal and found its surface slightly warm. Eileen was thoughtful as she sipped her coffee and rocked Zoë.

Rafferty swallowed. “I fear this is the root of everything. It is a keepsake of my pride and my error, and that argument is perhaps the reason the darkfire found me.”

“What do you mean?” Melissa asked.

Rafferty impaled her with a glance. “You cannot bear a son to me. The firestorm, which I have awaited for so long, is bereft of its purpose, which means that the dark-fire cannot be halted by conventional means. I have to wonder whether this is reparation for my mistake.”

Melissa wasn’t going to let him blame himself. “Maybe it means you’re the one who can think outside of the box.”

Eileen smiled. “Who better than the greatest romantic of the
Pyr
?”

Melissa was startled by this bit of information about Rafferty. “Really? A romantic?” That Rafferty appeared to be discomfited just added credence to Eileen’s claim.

Here she’d thought they had a lot in common.

Including a very basic pragmatism.

Was it possible that Rafferty wanted more than a sexual relationship? Melissa had assumed their interaction was all about instant gratification.

But had she only assumed that he shared her view?

“Absolutely.” Eileen put down her coffee mug. “Rafferty is the one who persuades each of the
Pyr
to make a permanent relationship with his mate, to go for the long term and to create a rewarding union. Rafferty is our forever
Pyr
.”

Melissa pushed back from the table and tried to make a joke. She’d been here and done this, and she wasn’t planning to live it again. Strange to have something in common with Erik.

She tried to keep her tone light. “Well, then it’s too bad I don’t believe in forever anymore.” She felt flustered beneath Rafferty’s warm gaze.

“Why not?” he asked quietly.

“There’s only now. The present is what counts. The future can be torn away in a heartbeat, leaving you with nothing at all.”

“And the only legacy of merit is the truth?” Rafferty asked with a piercing gaze.

Melissa nodded. “Absolutely.”

Rafferty reached over and took Melissa’s hand in his. His grip was warm, his hand large enough to envelop hers. “Firestorms are often about healing,” he said with quiet intensity. “Maybe your view of the future is one more thing the darkfire intends to change.”

“Amen,” Eileen said.

Melissa stared at Rafferty in shock, the heat of desire pulsing through her body from their entwined hands. She could lose herself in his eyes, in his conviction, and in his faith that the world was a good place.

Or that he could make it better.

She could love this man.

That was perhaps the most terrifying prospect of all.

Rafferty watched her, seeming to read every single one of her thoughts, then turned back to Eileen without releasing Melissa’s hand. “I know where to begin,” he said with conviction. “I will begin with the firestorm. With a story of destiny and love that endured long after that firestorm was sated.”