Firestorm Forever: A Dragonfire Novel (29 page)

Would he tell her the truth?

Show her where to find dragons?

What about their eggs?

It sounded silly when Jac even thought those questions, but she had to find out.

Nothing ventured, nothing gained, after all.

She took a deep breath and knocked on his door.

* * *

Marco heard Jac coming.

He was thinking about the news story he’d overheard through the floor and wondering whether he could use it to draw as close to her as the darkfire desired.

Easter Island.

He liked islands.

But five new dragons hatched from eggs. That made no sense at all. Had someone been fooled? Or was this a manifestation of the darkfire loose in the world? Were they
Pyr
or
Slayer
? Marco couldn’t be sure.

Not without going to the island himself. The scent of those new dragons would linger, and it would tell him a great deal.

As would any other lingering scents.

He would go.

He heard Jac’s approach and decided he might not go alone.

Marco’s eyes opened and he shifted shape leisurely, savoring the blue shimmer of light in his apartment. He loved the feeling of shifting shape, the way it made his body tingle. He felt as if he were filled with starlight when he changed to human form, and as if he were filled with fire when he shifted to dragon form. Either sensation was wonderful, and he savored the rightness of letting his body do what it did best.

It was dusk outside and he wondered if anyone in a nearby building might have seen the evidence of his shift. He smiled, wondering what they would make of it.

Unlike Erik and many of his fellows, Marco felt no threat from humans and little concern as to what they thought of the
Pyr
. They were treasures to be defended, no more than a task. He had slept through the hunting of dragons that so haunted Erik and could only be fascinated with the blend of weakness and strength that characterized humans.

Like his enchanting neighbor. Marco heard himself growl deep in his throat at the possibility of learning more of her weaknesses and strengths.

As well as what kind of pleasure would make her moan aloud. He wanted to see her wild with desire, incoherent with need, and demanding satisfaction.

From him, of course.

One day, he might have a firestorm, but to date, he’d been content to live alone, outside the perimeters of expectation. He’d been happy with the darkfire as his companion and fleeting connections with human women.

Jac enticed him as no woman had in a long time. Was it because of her interest in dragons? Or his sense that the darkfire had led him to her?

Marco suspected that his firestorm would be in the old style, that he would satisfy it and leave his mate pregnant then disappear again. It wasn’t in him to commit to anyone, not even to pledge to follow his fellow
Pyr
. Marco carved his own path and believed he always would. He had slept away too many centuries to fret about the short term. He considered the merit of satisfying his fascination with Jac, knowing that a night—or a taste—would likely be enough to sate him.

He probably should ensure that he wasn’t distracted, in case the darkfire brought even more unexpected challenges in the year ahead.

The idea was so appealing that he strode to the bedroom with new purpose. In his human form, Marco was wearing just jeans and a T-shirt. The sound of the fridge echoed loudly in the apartment’s emptiness. He would have unplugged it, ending its rhythmic noise, but he had some food in it, as much for the sake of appearances as anything else. The landlord had proven to be curious.

The darkfire crystal was on the windowsill, the blue-green light of the darkfire crackling within it, like a spark of lightning. It had become more agitated since the eclipse, as if it had drawn power from the blood moon. The darkfire in the gem was the only illumination in the room, and Marco chose to leave it in view.

He got the backpack from his closet and put some clothing into it. He tugged on a sweatshirt and set a jacket at the door beside his boots. He had a toothbrush and razor, a few toiletries and added them to the backpack’s contents. He had a passport, which made him smile, because he didn’t need anyone’s permission to go anywhere. Erik had arranged it for him, ‘just in case,’ as well as some human affectations like credit cards and bank accounts. Marco had been amused, but was glad of those preparations now.

Perhaps the foresight of the leader of the
Pyr
had its uses.

He was keenly aware of Jac’s approach and he timed his actions so that he’d, once again, meet her at the door. He had just laced his boots and tossed the pack over his shoulder when she arrived.

Jac knocked at the door, and her rap sounded loud. He could smell her trepidation and her interest in him, a reaction that echoed his own fascination with her.

Maybe there could be a kind of kismet, even without a firestorm.

Marco opened the door to reveal Jac standing there, Sigmund’s book clutched against her chest. She was wearing black jeans and boots, a wide belt around her hips and a black tank top that showed her curves to advantage. Her red linen blouse hung loose and open, the color suiting her well. She had dark hair and blue eyes, but wore neither make-up nor jewelry. Her long hair was drawn up in a ponytail, which made her neck look long, bare and delicious. He wanted with sudden fervor to caress the spot beneath her ear, even to kiss it.

“Hi,” she said, summoning a nervous smile. “I wondered if you had a minute.”

“I have all the time in the world,” Marco replied.

Her gaze flicked over him, landing on the backpack. “You look like you’re leaving.”

“I am, but we can talk first.”

She eyed him uncertainly, hesitating when he invited her into the barren apartment with a gesture. She stepped inside and he felt a primal surge of satisfaction that the woman he desired had entered his lair. The vigor of his dragon’s response surprised Marco, but that only convinced him that his scheme was right. Jac looked around, and he felt her surprise when she saw the prophecy he’d written on the walls.

He waited for her to read it and noticed how her pulse quickened.

Great Wyvern, he could hear the beat of her heart and feel the rhythm of her breathing. He closed his eyes, savoring his awareness of her vitality, of the blood rushing through her veins, of the uncertainty in her stomach.

Of the desire burning a little lower. He inhaled slowly, wanting and fearing he would move too quickly.

Jac turned to him abruptly, her confidence fed by the presence of the prophecy, or maybe because of its contents. Marco was content to wait to find out.

Her eyes widened as she surveyed him and Marco knew his desire showed. To his delight, though, she didn’t run.

In fact, she stepped closer, her choice making his blood hum with need.

Jac cleared her throat with purpose. “The thing is that this book was in the parcel you brought to me the other day, and I was wondering if you knew anything more about it.”

“About the book or its contents?”

“Well, both.”

“You think I opened your parcel?” Marco asked the question in a mild tone, not insulted but wanting to know how much she had guessed about him.

She blushed. “I thought maybe you’d sent it.” Her color deepened. “I’m sorry. That’s rude, but—” Her gaze trailed back to the prophecy and she bit her lip, the sight of her teeth on that ruddy bottom lip making him want to kiss her. “But maybe it’s not crazy.”

“Not crazy at all,” Marco admitted, holding her gaze when she fell silent. “I did give it to you.”

“Why not say so?”

“I wasn’t sure you’d accept a gift from a stranger.” He watched her swallow, noted how she was physically aware of him. As much as he wanted to taste her, he sensed a little trepidation in her attitude and was content to wait for her to come to him.

“Why?” Her voice had turned husky, which was promising.

“Because I thought you needed it, of course.”

Her lips parted in surprise. Their gazes held for a potent moment, and Marco’s desire for her redoubled. He held her gaze unblinkingly, letting her see his simmering desire. She caught her breath and licked that lip, then took a step closer. Her fingertips landed on his forearm and Marco was the one to catch his breath.

“I’ve been thinking about you,” she whispered, her eyes wide.

“I’ve been thinking about you,” Marco admitted in turn, which obviously pleased her.

The darkfire was crackling in the crystal, alive with possibilities.

The air seemed to crackle between them in the same way. It had been so long—that must be why his reaction to her was so powerful.

“I hardly know you,” Jac said and abruptly looked away, surveying his apartment again. Her nervousness was interesting and made Marco wonder about her past. He certainly had done nothing to frighten her.

“There’s an easy way to remedy that,” he murmured and she flushed a little.

She gestured to the apartment. “There’s nothing here,” she said, as if that was a problem.

“Yet it is sufficient for my needs.” Marco eyed her, then walked to the kitchen.

Her gaze followed him, then she did, too. “You don’t even have a television.”

“No.”

“How do you know what’s going on?”

Marco considered the merit of telling her that he listened to her television, but given her uncertainty, decided against such a confidence. He shrugged. “News is on every corner, in every restaurant, even at the gym. I prefer to have a place of refuge and silence.”

She nodded, even as she scanned the emptiness of his kitchen. “Are you some kind of minimalist? Do you follow an eastern religion?” Jac’s gaze flicked to his. “Or don’t you really live here?”

“I stay here, for now,” Marco conceded, intrigued by her insistence that he should have his home filled with possessions. “I have water to offer, but nothing else.”

After he’d caught a whiff of the landlord’s first prowl through the apartment, Marco had made an effort to appear more human. He’d bought a starter set of dishes with four plates, four mugs, four glasses and four bowls, and they were still in the box on the counter. He’d also bought those toiletries and some clothes to put in the closet.

Jac bit back a smile. “Because there’s a tap included in your rent?”

Marco smiled and she actually laughed.

“Thanks. I’m fine.” The sight of the dishes seemed to reassure her, although Marco couldn’t imagine why. She walked back into the living room, her heels clicking on the hard wood floor. “Just like college,” she murmured. “Living on pizza and beer, eaten out of the box and drunk from the bottle.”

“That’s not my diet,” Marco said, leaning in the doorway to watch her. He liked the way she walked, as if keeping time to music he couldn’t hear. There was a rhythmic swing to her hips that he could have watched forever.

She stopped in front of the darkfire crystal, just as he had anticipated and was staring at it in fascination. “What’s this?”

“It’s called a darkfire crystal.”

“Does it have a battery?” She bent down to peer at it. “What makes the spark?”

“The darkfire illuminates it.”

She glanced back at him, her confusion clear. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“I’m not surprised. It’s the last one remaining in existence,” he said, then strolled to her side. He picked it up, turning it in his hand while he savored the scent of her skin. The quartz crystal was large, several inches across and long enough for the points to protrude beyond his palm. The blue-green spark of the darkfire brightened at his touch, as it always did, and illuminated the apartment more brightly.

Jac caught her breath. “Can I touch it?”

Marco handed it to her, noting how the spark did not dim. It changed color, becoming greener when she held the stone, and flared wildly, as if it would force its way out of the stone. He dared to drop his hand to the back of her waist, felt her pulse leap, and liked that she didn’t move away.

No, she took a little step closer, as if she wanted to be in his arms.

“I guess if you’re only going to own one thing, it should be remarkable, like this.” Jac smiled up at him and made to hand it back to him.

Marco instead closed his hand around hers, leaving the stone in her grip. The darkfire snapped and jumped when both of their hands were folded around it, illuminating the room with its strange light. Jac caught her breath. “It likes that,” she whispered.

“It’s not alone,” Marco murmured and bent to touch his lips to that spot below her ear. He felt Jac shiver, then she turned to him without pulling her hand away.

She stared up at him, then reached to brush her lips across his. “I wish you weren’t going,” she confessed, then a twinkle lit her eyes. “Not when things are just getting interesting.”

Marco smiled and bestowed a light kiss on her lips. She tasted sweet and hot, and it took everything in him not to claim her mouth in a possessive kiss. His heart thundered when she put her free hand on his shoulder and leaned against him, lifting her face for more. Then he kissed her deeply, partaking of the feast she offered. Her kiss fed the fire within him, driving all thought from his mind except the pleasure they could give each other.