Kiss of Fire (35 page)

Sara didn't like the idea of being a prize. She didn't have time to argue with Rafferty, though, because Quinn emerged from the forest in a blaze of power, Ambrose trapped in his grip. The
Slayer
struggled, to no avail.

Quinn twisted Ambrose's wings, then tore open his chest. He spouted dragonfire until Ambrose screamed. He slashed at the
Slayer
with steady strokes of his tail, clawing at him at irregular intervals. He shredded Ambrose's wings and ripped the claws from his body. All the while, Quinn's dragonfire blazed and flared, sizzling Ambrose in midair.

Ambrose didn't have a chance. He struggled to defend himself and remain aloft, but was losing badly.

Sara was on her feet, jumping and cheering, when Ambrose fell out of the sky. Quinn followed his opponent's descent with a stream of brilliant fire. He began to glimmer and Sara guessed that he was breathing an ever-tightening circle of smoke around the
Slayer
. She saw the truth in how Ambrose recoiled and twitched.

She heard him moan and then he writhed.

Quinn breathed steadily. Ambrose tried to rouse himself to fight, then obviously realized that breathing dragonfire on his assailant would only make matters worse. He shifted rapidly from human to dragon and back, over and over again, as if caught in a cycle he couldn't break.

Sara saw all of this through the haze of orange dragonfire. She smelled roasting flesh and heard the sizzle of rain on embers. A smoke rose from the
Slayer
's body as she watched, but she knew it couldn't be dragon smoke. It was simply the smoke from a fire, because Quinn kept up his assault.

The rain settled into a steady torrent, beating a rhythm on the ground. Within moments, a wind came up and brushed the clouds away, clearing the sky as surely as if the storm had never been.

The cabin was a blackened shell, the flames that had destroyed it extinguished by the rain. The forest that had been set ablaze had burned branches sticking toward the sky. There was a distant sound of approaching sirens as the Wyvern stretched her wings. Her movement revealed Erik, unconscious but in human form. He looked to be asleep.

“You mended his spirit,” Sloane said with awe and Sophie smiled.

“There are a few things I've learned,” she said, then stretched her wings again. She surveyed the sky, then studied the
Pyr
and Sara each in turn. “You have no need of me now,” she said, then gracefully took flight. Her white wings were bright against the blue sky, and Sara knew that the
Pyr
watched her fly west until they couldn't see her anymore.

Sara, though, was watching Quinn. She was nervous about his plan, his thoughts, his idea of the future.

She had a very firm idea of what she wanted to happen.

Sara watched Quinn exhaust his supply of dragonfire, then kick the ashes of what had been Ambrose. He scattered the ashes with purpose, then heaved a sigh of relief. He tipped his head back and glowed brightly as he shifted to human form.

Then he looked directly at Sara with the intensity that she had associated with the firestorm.

Sara realized it was just Quinn and his effect upon her. He was a man of honor, one who kept his word, one whose company she would be honored to share. His lips tugged into that slow smile she loved so much and he began to walk toward her.

“Now you can go,” Rafferty rumbled, but Sara was already running toward Quinn.

Quinn had never felt such relief. The dread that had haunted him for centuries was finally gone. Sara ran to him and he knew she was safe from his past forevermore. She leapt into his arms and he swung her around, fiercely glad to have the chance to hold her close again. He buried his fingers in her hair and felt her strength pressed against his chest, then pulled back to study her.

“You're all right?”

Sara smiled. “I want to ask you that. What happened in the woods?”

“I thumped him. Don't tell me I have to do it again, just for you to be able to see.”

Sara laughed. “No. But I thought you were fading.”

“I pretended to be.”

“That smoke went right for your damaged scale.”

Quinn inhaled as she put her hand over his heart. He could feel her pulse through her palm and listened as his own heart matched the pace of hers. There was no firestorm, but maybe there didn't need to be.

They seemed to be good at building a heat of their own.

“It's too bad the elements can only injure you in unison,” she said with a frown. “Instead of healing you.”

Quinn blinked, struck by the elegance of her suggestion. He wondered whether it was possible, and knew he'd think more about it later.

“The forest was lit with dragonfire,” he said, watching delight shine in her eyes. “I thought I could use it.”

“So the dragonfire made you stronger at least.”

Quinn nodded, content to hold Sara close and stare into her eyes. They were hazel but it seemed to him that the flicks of gold were getting brighter.

“
Are
you all right?” she asked with concern. “Let me see your chest.”

“Right here, in front of everyone?” he teased and she blushed. “Maybe we should save that for later.”

She pulled back to study him, her eyes changing hue as he watched. He caught his breath at their golden glimmer and felt his body respond.

“The firestorm's over,” she said quietly. “What does that mean?”

Quinn shrugged. “Maybe that we need to make our own sparks.”

Her smile was fleeting. “I thought it would mean that you were leaving.”

He liked how much that prospect troubled her and was encouraged. “Not unless you want me to.”

Sara shook her head. “I'm thinking Magda wouldn't want me to let you get away that easily.”

“So you only want me around for my effect on your air conditioner.”

“No! More than that.” Sara looked up at him again and his chest clenched at the bright promise in her eyes.

“Far more than that,” he murmured. There was electricity between them of a different kind, maybe a more enduring kind, and Quinn liked it a lot.

He bent and kissed Sara, slowly and sweetly, savoring the way she made his pulse leap. When he lifted his head, she looked tousled and happy. He tucked a tendril of hair behind her ear with a gentle fingertip, feeling luckier than he ever had. “I'm wondering, though, how I'm supposed to follow all this.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, traditionally, winning a challenge meant celebration.”

“What kind of celebration?”

“Earthly pleasures, pretty much,” Quinn admitted, leading her toward the other
Pyr
. “Eating, drinking and, um, making merry,” Quinn said, sparing Sara a look that told her what kind of merrymaking he meant. She smiled at him, which had to be a good sign. “But an invitation to dinner seems a bit flat in comparison to a dragon attack.”

Sara slanted a mischievous glance his way. “Not if it includes dessert.”

Quinn was mystified. “I didn't think you had that much of a sweet tooth.”

“Oh, I do,” she said in a way that made him think he was missing something. Something important, from the way Sara seemed to be on the verge of laughter. She glanced up, her eyes dancing. “I really like chocolate sauce, in fact.”

Quinn still didn't understand why she found this so amusing. “Really?”

“Really. And you know, I've been thinking that there's one particular way I'd like to try it,” Sara said.

When he held her gaze, mystified, she stretched to her toes and whispered. “It involves you and me naked and no spoons.”

Quinn was both surprised and intrigued. He'd never been much for chocolate sauce, but he had a feeling that was going to change.

Sara laughed at his response, then put her arms around his neck. “And you know, since life is so uncertain, maybe we should have dessert first.”

Quinn could only agree with that.

I
t was the end of August when Sara drove toward Traverse City in her rented hybrid car. As always, she felt a tingle of anticipation when heading toward Quinn and his studio. His home was like a haven to her.

They'd been seeing each other regularly since the art show, commuting back and forth. Sara had been doing some research in the shop, with Magda's help, and Quinn had been experimenting at the forge between commissions. She sensed that they were on the cusp of a revelation about using the elements to heal the
Pyr
.

They were on the cusp of another adventure, as well. Sara had had a blood test in the past few days that had confirmed what she and Quinn had suspected for a while. She was going to have his child. Something about having a medical report made it seem all the more real to Sara. Something about having Quinn become a fixture in her life made everything seem worthwhile to her.

She took her time, enjoying the drive. She had the window open and the stereo on, and was singing along with the oldies station. There would be changes to make with the baby coming, but Magda had gotten right to the point: she'd left the Yellow Pages open to the ad for a real estate agent in Traverse City, one who specialized in retail property. Sara had an appointment the next day to look at potential locations.

She had a feeling Quinn would go with her. He'd look at the foundation, the furnace, the bones of the building. She'd look at the traffic, the sunlight, and take the vibe of the location. It was funny how they had intuitively realized their areas of specialty, how they contributed information and worked together. It was so easy.

It was perfect.

She was excited as well about the eclipse they were going to see later this day. Quinn had invited her to go with him and the
Pyr
, to see the forecast of the firestorm to come. He'd been enigmatic about the location where they'd view it, and Sara wondered whether he knew or whether he was being protective of
Pyr
secrets. She was curious to know more about Quinn's world, and honored to have been invited.

Seeing a full lunar eclipse would be exciting, too.

A motorcycle roared behind her and Sara slowed down, content to let the biker zoom past her. The rider must have been serious as he was wearing black biker leathers even under the summer sun.

Instead of passing, he slowed down to drive alongside her and raised his visor.

She recognized his cocky grin right away. “Donovan! It's not safe to drive like that!”

He laughed. “Safe is for accountants,” he teased.

“Safe is for those who want to live.”

“Being immortal has its perks.”

“You just like to show off.”

He laughed. “See you up there,” he shouted, then gunned the bike and roared ahead.

Moments later, Sara turned into the drive that led to Quinn's shop. She loved his parcel of land because it seemed to be away from everything else. The hills rose behind his studio and were crested with a pine forest. There was a hardwood forest to the east of that and cedars where the land was lower. A sparkling stream cut through the property and Sara had awakened on more than one night to find deer outside Quinn's bedroom window.

There were more stars than she'd ever imagined seeing at one time. The sky here was thick with them.

Quinn's cabin was simple and he'd told her it was temporary. His intention was to build a larger house with his partner, and he'd taken her one day to see the spot. Sara had been enchanted by the wind in the trees that surrounded the site, the view of the countryside, and the sheer tranquility. They'd made love in the grass there and she'd hoped with all her heart that they'd be making love there for the rest of her life.

She had fallen hard and fast for Quinn Tyrrell and Sara had a pretty good idea that the feeling was mutual.

Even though their firestorm was over.

A curl of smoke rose from the chimney of the workshop when she parked the car beside Donovan's gleaming bike. Sara could hear Quinn's hammer. She didn't doubt that Donovan was commenting on everything Quinn did. She left her bag in the cabin and went to the workshop. She loved to see him work.

The shop was dark, as always, and warm. The forge glowed red hot, and the clang of Quinn's hammer echoed through the building. He was before the fire in his leather apron and heavy boots, leather gloves up to his elbows, and a guard over his eyes. He looked as if he was concentrating and Sara moved closer to see what he was working on.

It was a small flat item, almost shield-shaped, glowing red. He held it with tongs and hammered it thinner on the anvil, then shoved it into the fire of the forge one last time.

He spared her a glance and smiled a welcome that heated Sara to her toes. He held up a warning finger and she knew to approach no closer without safety gear. She waited and watched. Donovan cast her a grin and she felt his anticipation.

Quinn pulled the piece from the fire one last time and held it up in the tongs to examine it. He frowned, gave it a couple more blows, then tapped the edges with a smaller mallet. He returned it to the fire and wiped the sweat from his brow.

The next time he pulled the piece from the fire, he nodded with satisfaction and left it to cool. He turned the forge off and stepped toward Sara, shedding his gloves and gear as he came.

“You're earlier than I expected,” he said with obvious pleasure. “Did you drive too fast?”

“Not me. I'm just an accountant, taking it safe.”

Donovan laughed at that.

Quinn's kiss was welcoming and warm, and it left Sara breathing quickly.

“Keep it clean, people,” Donovan complained.

“I left work earlier than I'd planned,” Sara admitted, very aware of Donovan's presence.

“Slow day?” Quinn asked, his gaze searching hers.

She shook her head quickly. “Different reason.”

“Oh, lover talk,” Donovan complained amiably. “Should I go ahead without you?”

“Don't leave before you get what you came for,” Quinn said.

“Presents?” Donovan asked with obvious excitement. “There are presents involved? Is this a new
Pyr
tradition?”

“Let's just say that Christmas came early.” Quinn retrieved a box from the far side of the shop and offered it to Donovan. “I guess you were good this year. Who would have believed it?”

“Oh, I'm very good. Ask any of the ladies.” Donovan grinned. “I knew you asked me here first for a reason.” He ripped open the box and pulled out what looked like a pair of gloves. They were made of very fine leather but odd-looking.

“Do they have nails?” Sara asked as Donovan pulled them on.

There was no mistaking the
Pyr
's glee. He flicked his hand open abruptly and knives opened on each of his fingertips. He danced around the shop, pretending he was fighting with someone. He looked menacing in his biker leathers with those knives on his fingertips, and Sara kept her distance.

“I'm loving it,” he said to Quinn. “But what about when I shift?”

“Fold the gloves away with your clothes. It takes some practice, but if I can do it…”

Donovan snorted. “Then I'm all over it.”

“Maybe you should retract the knives the first time you try,” Quinn suggested, arching a brow.

Donovan laughed and folded each blade away with care. He granted Sara a wicked glance. “It's the same old story. Give the kids new toys so the lovers can play their own games in privacy.”

“So shouldn't you go play already?” Sara teased and Donovan took the hint.

“I'll let you know how it works out,” he told Quinn.

“I've got 911 on speed dial. If you get into trouble, just try to be human when the paramedics come.”

“Picky, picky, picky,” Donovan complained. He gave them a jaunty wave from the door to the studio, then left. Sara saw him striding toward the forest.

“Don't worry. He'll conquer it in one,” Quinn said. “Besides, it's better he not see this just yet.” He held Sara close against his side and as always, the gleam in his eyes made her very aware of her femininity. “The
Pyr
can't be witness to all my secrets. Smithing is an ancient and magical craft, after all.”

“Smithing isn't what's ancient and magical about you.”

“It's not what's magical about you, either,” he said, kissing her soundly. “Want to see?”

He was so proud of what he'd done that Sara guessed it was something to do with the
Pyr
. “What are you making?”

“I had this idea, but I can't finish the process alone. I suppose that's fitting.” Quinn took her hand in his and led her to the anvil, where his work was cooling.

“It's already black,” Sara said.

“Wrought iron,” Quinn spoke with satisfaction. He picked up the piece and turned it in his hands, nodding at its slightly curved shape. “It came out exactly as I wanted it to.”

Sara thought of the mermaid door knocker and Quinn's story of how she had come to be so perfect. “As if it shaped itself?”

He smiled that slow smile. “Pretty much.”

He handed it to Sara and she studied it, mystified. It was a puzzle of some kind, one that he was challenging her to solve.

“Is it a commissioned piece?”

“No. It's for us.”

Sara blinked. “Is it part of a larger project?”

Quinn grinned. “You could say that.”

“You're being evasive again,” she said, putting a hand on her hip. “I need another clue to figure this out.”

Quinn folded his arms across his chest and leaned back against the anvil, enjoying himself a little too much to be entirely trustworthy. His eyes sparkled as if they were filled with starlight. “What if I tell you that I've been thinking about your question, the one you asked about the elements being able to destroy the
Pyr
but not heal us?”

“I still wouldn't get it.”

“And that I asked Erik for his thoughts.”

Sara caught her breath and looked at the piece of wrought iron in her hands. It was the shape of a
Pyr
scale.

“And Erik, being Erik, said he had to ask the Wyvern.”

“And the Wyvern, being the Wyvern, said something incomprehensible and possibly irrelevant,” Sara guessed and Quinn laughed.

“
Smith, heal thyself,
was what she said.” He sobered as he looked at her. “Maybe it's not that incomprehensible, or irrelevant.”

Sara looked up at him, liking the glint in his eyes. She knew exactly what he intended to heal and she agreed. “Will it work?”

“Let's find out.” Quinn took a deep breath and flexed his muscles. When Sara heard his breathing slow, she knew to take a step back. She watched again, fascinated as always by his transformation to
Pyr
form.

It was so quick. No matter how intently she watched, she was always surprised by the speed of his transformation. It wasn't her imagination that he was getting faster at it, either.

Donovan was a bad influence that way.

Quinn's scales glittered like jewels in the light cast by the forge, as if he were a hidden treasure discovered by Sara. He reared up immediately and revealed his chest to her.

Sara looked immediately for the damaged scale, the one that was evidence of his love for Elizabeth. To her astonishment, it was growing back all by itself.

But a little farther down and to the left, an entire scale was missing. The lost scale was directly over his heart, and a large section of flesh was left unprotected. Sara caught her breath and met the knowingness in Quinn's gaze, not daring to believe the implication of what she saw.

He had lost the scale because he had lost his heart.

He was vulnerable because he loved her.

Sara was both frightened and happy about this revelation. She wanted Quinn to be strong and invincible. She wanted his love, but she didn't want to ever be the reason he lost a battle. She stepped closer and reached up to the tender spot. Quinn bent down so that she could reach. She ran her fingers over it gently, feeling how he shivered at her touch. The skin was sensitive, having been shielded for so very long.

What had she done by falling in love with him?

Sara was afraid; then she understood what he had made. He was trying to restore his armor, so that he could better defend them both. She tested the fit of the wrought-iron scale, not surprised to find that it was perfectly sized and shaped to fit the space.

It was made of iron, which came from the earth.

It had been shaped in the fire.

There were two elements to go.

“But how will we attach it?” she asked. “I can't breathe dragonfire. I don't want to make you vulnerable, Quinn.”