Serpent's Kiss: A Dragonfire Novel (20 page)

“Think of it this way: you won’t have to face his anger,” the woman said. “At least not in this life.”

“I’ll find you,” Viv said with heat. “I’ll find you and I’ll make you pay for this…”

“If you pray to anything or anyone, say your prayer now,” the woman said coolly, interrupting Viv’s tirade, and the crossbow moved slightly. She had to be depressing the trigger.

It was over.

A furious Viv closed her eyes tightly.

Which was why she didn’t see Thorolf coming.

* * *

What the hell was going on?

Thorolf awakened alone, the light of the firestorm faded to a glimmer. Chandra had left him. Even worse, she’d insisted that he couldn’t follow her. She’d been protecting him, a dragon shape shifter, and had decked him when he’d refused to agree to her crazy plan. He had the lump on the back of his head to prove it.

He
could
defend her. Even if they were arguing, he’d protect her with everything he had. That’s what the firestorm was about.

It occurred to him that his mate wasn’t much used to relying on anyone else.

But then, she’d admitted early that she always worked alone.

Was that why she couldn’t trust in the firestorm’s promise? Every possibility just made Thorolf more determined to change her mind.

What
had
the falcon been screaming about? Could she understand what the bird said? Either way, something was going down and Thorolf was going to follow his mate. He shifted shape and flew hard, following the silver gleam of the firestorm. When it brightened, he knew he was close to her.

But the sight before him couldn’t be true.

It
was
Chandra, it had to be, even though she’d changed form again. She was blond now, dressed in the same black hunting gear, her hair braided into a thick plait that hung down her back. He thought she looked like a Valkyrie, especially with the skulls hanging from her belt, but the firestorm revealed that it was his mate. But then, Freya was the leader of the Valkyries. A bird was circling around her, silent and watchful, but it was a black raven instead of a silver falcon.

He rubbed his eyes, looked again, but nothing important changed.

Chandra was going to shoot Viv in the back of the head.

Not if he had anything to say about it.

“What the
fuck
?” Thorolf roared. He fell on his mate in his dragon form, his claws locking around her shoulders. He groaned as the seductive heat of the firestorm surged through him, reminding him of what they hadn’t finished.

His weight forced Chandra from Viv’s back, and they tumbled together across the stone. He would have gathered Chandra close, but she elbowed him hard, then kicked him, fighting with amazing strength.

She’d been strong before, but in this guise, she was nearly as tall as him in his human form, and powerful.

Maybe more powerful than him.

It was a bit late to remember that she was, after all, Vanir.

“Run!” he shouted to Viv and she did.

“Idiot!” Chandra roared and Thorolf knew he’d invited the wrath of the goddess. She bit him, then rolled to her feet in one fluid movement. She fired the arrow loaded into the crossbow after Viv before he could stop her. Thorolf did manage to smack the weapon with his tail as she fired, disrupting her aim.

She swore thoroughly, turning on him with blazing eyes. She cracked the crossbow across his snout in retaliation, making him blink at the pain, then jabbed one fist into his gut. No normal person could have driven the wind from him with that punch, but Chandra did. At least, Viv was running into the jungle, the sound of her passage loud to Thorolf.

“She’ll get away!” Chandra fumed.

“Exactly!” Thorolf had to give Viv time to escape. He owed her that much.

Meanwhile, the firestorm burned with distracting power. Thorolf found its heat more compelling in his dragon form. He wanted Chandra, this goddess who might just be able to kick his butt, more than he’d ever wanted a woman before. He wanted to defend her and gather her close, maybe take flight and find some place they could be alone to consummate the firestorm. He wanted to wrestle, winner take all, and he’d be glad to lose so she could take advantage of him.

He could install her as the prize gem in his hoard, secure her in his well-defended lair. It could take the rest of his life to understand her, to figure out all of her powers and to convince her to confide in him fully. The firestorm urged him to go for it. That she’d changed form again only increased his interest. He could discover her all over again, which was a tantalizing possibility.

The problem was that Chandra was furious with him. He didn’t want to hurt her, but she didn’t seem to be worried about injuring him. She fought him with remarkable strength, biting and striking so ferociously that Thorolf knew he’d be bruised. He roared and seized her, holding her in a tight grip. He even wrapped his tail around her, although her struggles turned his thoughts in a predictable direction.

“Let me go,” she demanded. “There’s no telling what trouble she’ll make in this place.”

“I can’t let you hunt her,” Thorolf insisted.

“I’ll explain later!”

“I’m not letting you go.”

Chandra swore, muttered an apology that made no sense, then drove her boot heel into the place where it hurt the most. Thorolf fell back, stunned by the pain, and shifted involuntarily back to human form. He cupped his hands over his groin and moaned a little. Chandra stood over him, looking like a warrior queen.

A disgusted warrior queen.

The firestorm burned brightly as she loomed over him, filling the space between them with its silvery light. He was sure he’d never seen a more beautiful woman in all his life, and despite his pain, his body responded to the vision of her. Her eyes were shining, her feet braced against the ground. She could have been an action hero, or his favorite fantasy.

For a moment, Thorolf forgot that she was pissed at him.

Chandra didn’t. She hauled off and decked him. Thorolf couldn’t believe it until he saw the blood spurt from his nose.

To his delight, it was red.

Because of his firestorm.

He laughed and reached for Chandra. She kicked his feet out from underneath him and he fell to the ground, seizing her on the way down. “I like wrestling,” he warned her as he rolled on top of her. “Don’t start what you can’t finish.”

“Nothing said you’re going to win,” Chandra said through gritted teeth and drove her elbow into his chest. “I can’t believe you stopped me.”

“I can’t believe you were going to kill her,” Thorolf muttered, as the pair of them grappled together.

“It was my quest to kill her.”

Thorolf was startled. “The one that has you going to Asgard once you finish.”

She cast him a look, as if he were a particularly slow child.

“All the more reason to interfere,” Thorolf said. Chandra glared at him. “You’re my mate. This is our firestorm. Clearly, I need more time to convince you that surrendering to it is a great idea.”

“I work alone!” Chandra shouted as she rolled him to his back. She wriggled free, but this time, Thorolf tackled her, sweeping her feet out from beneath her.

They tumbled together across the ground and Thorolf had to admit he was having the time of his life. It was incredibly hot to be wrestling with his mate, and he found himself aroused by how vigorous a fighter she was.

He was starting to feel that a celebration would be in order.

No matter who won.

He caught her wrists in one hand and moved quickly, grinning when he trapped her beneath his weight. “Green eyes this time,” he noted. “I like it.”

She twisted and bit, tried to kick him, then glared at him. “You like this,” she accused.

Thorolf couldn’t pretend otherwise. “Oh yeah. Big fantasy. I always wanted a woman who would wrestle with me.”

“Only because you want to win.”

“Only because I want to lose, so you can have your way with me.” Thorolf chuckled and rolled his hips against her, letting her feel his reaction to their fight.

“My way with you is to leave you,” she said, but her lips had parted in an inviting way. She was still talking tough, but the firestorm was provoking her response. Thorolf could tell by the way her eyes had started to sparkle.

“Hasn’t happened so far,” he felt obliged to point out.

“It would have happened right now, if you hadn’t interfered.”

“Then you can’t expect me to have any regrets,” he murmured, then bent and stole a kiss. The firestorm was crackling silver between them, and the sparks that exploded from their kiss nearly blew his mind.

“Centuries of preparation,” Chandra said through her teeth, her eyes narrowing again. “And you don’t even care that you screwed it up.”

Thorolf braced himself on his elbows to look down at her. “Aren’t you taking female jealousy a bit far?” He made a joke, hoping she’d smile. “There’s enough of me to share.”

“I should smite you,” she said through gritted teeth.

“Go for it,” he invited. “I’m ready.”

Chandra’s eyes flashed. Her knee moved so fast that he almost wasn’t prepared for it. His weight shifted through as he protected his jewels, and he realized too late that she’d expected him to do just that.

“Idiot dragon!” she charged, and Thorolf was shocked to find himself sprawled on his back, her boot planted on his chest. “This isn’t about jealousy,” she informed him, a disgusted and triumphant warrior queen once more. “This is about keeping my word.”

“Your promise to your brother?” Thorolf guessed.

“That’s the one, the vow that saves his precious
Pyr
from extinction.”

“We aren’t becoming extinct…”

“Where have I heard that before?”

“Who exactly
is
your brother?” he asked, but Chandra was striding away. She pulled another arrow out of her quiver, her gaze scanning the jungle.

She flicked a look at the arrow before loading it into the bow. “Jera,” she muttered. “It’ll have to do.”

Thorolf leapt to his feet. “Don’t hurt her!” He reached out a hand in appeal. A spark leapt from his fingertip to Chandra’s chest, as if to soften her heart, and she caught her breath at the impact. At least she paused before shooting. He felt he was making progress and tried to make more. “Okay, she was my girlfriend, but we broke up. No matter what your deal with your brother is, you don’t have to
kill
her…”

“She is your
enemy
.” Chandra pivoted to face him, her eyes bright. “She nearly killed you and you don’t even get it. I’m hoping that’s because you’re loyal, not stupid.”

Thorolf shook his head. “No, you’ve got it wrong. Viv’s not my enemy.” The raven descended suddenly and landed on his shoulder, making him jump. It made a cry and Chandra strode back to his side. She grabbed his arm and turned it hard to the right, stared at the dark mark, then nodded thoughtfully.

“Of course. Snakes,” she said, hissing out the word.

“What about snakes?”

She pressed her fingertips against two spots in the middle of the bruise. “You were bitten. Those are fang holes.”

Thorolf’s gut churned at the very idea. “No way. No snake could be that big.”

“Not a normal snake.”

“Forget it. I’ve never been bitten by a snake…” But as Chandra pressed his skin, Thorolf remembered a large green snake. He remembered fighting with it, back in that apartment, then he remembered it biting him, the feel of its fangs sinking into his arm and the toxin of its venom immobilizing him.

Right there.

Chapter Eight

“I should have realized earlier what they meant, but then—” Chandra’s lashes fluttered and she blushed. She licked her lips, flicking at glance at him, then frowned “—but then, I was distracted.”

The firestorm’s silvery heat surged through Thorolf, reminding him all too well what could have distracted Chandra when she’d been close enough to check out his skin. “I can help with that,” he offered, but she rolled her eyes and marched away.

The firestorm dimmed with distance, reminding Thorolf of their argument. “But what does that have to do with Viv?” Even if she’d kept the snake in the apartment without telling him, it wasn’t her fault that it had bitten him. “Just let her go.”

“In this place? I don’t dare risk it.” Chandra was raising her crossbow to aim it at him, her expression grim. “You can help or you can continue to hinder. Choose.”

Thorolf understood that she’d fire at him without a moment’s hesitation.

He reached for her but she backed away. She aimed the weapon and Thorolf held up his hands in surrender. “You wouldn’t fire at me,” he said, hearing the uncertainty in his own voice. “We have a firestorm. We could be good together.”

“Maybe that’s why it’s
Jera
,” she mused.

“What? The rune?”

“There’s one on every arrow,” she told him. “Or there is when I choose it. It’s always the perfect rune.”

“I forget what
Jera
means,” he said and felt like a loser.