Kiss of Fate by Deborah Cooke
He would have preferred to have been anywhere else.
“Try to send what you see to me,” Sara said, slipping her small hand into his. She smiled up at him with an optimism he didn’t share. “Just because we haven’t done it before doesn’t mean it can’t be done.”
Delaney nodded, any words caught in his throat.
“Hey,” Donovan said, bumping his other shoulder companionably. He winked at his younger brother. “You can do it. Let’s get this fixed once and for all.”
Delaney nodded and swallowed. He was up for that.
Sloane met his gaze, studying him with his usual intensity; then he began to hum. Delaney closed his eyes and felt Sara take a deep breath beside him. He was keenly aware of her as he never had been before.
Maybe that meant she was right.
Encouraged, Delaney bowed his head. He let Sloane’s song wind into his mind. The song grew in intensity and volume, insistent and melodic. Delaney felt it open doors in his mind and heart, felt it spread through him like a healing balm.
Sara began to hum along, and Delaney heard her voice more strongly than Sloane’s. Maybe because she was right beside him. Maybe because she was the Seer. If there was a connection between them, it might help. The other Pyr joined the song, tentatively at first, then gaining in confidence. It became demanding, pervasive, potent.
Sara’s voice caught at Delaney’s ear. The other voice he heard so sharply was Alex’s.
Maybe it was because the women’s voices were slightly higher.
Maybe it was because they were human, not Pyr.
Maybe it didn’t matter.
Delaney felt the shadow stir deep within him, like a monster awakened in a hidden labyrinth, but trusted in his fellows. He let his thoughts meander, not truly surprised when memories of his time in the dark academy were summoned.
“It’s deep in the earth,” he murmured, surprised that the truth was so evident to him in this state. He felt Donovan give his hand an encouraging squeeze. “But under the water. A tunnel in the earth under the water.”
“A mine shaft,” Alex suggested, her words cutting directly into his thoughts.
Delaney shrugged and frowned. He didn’t know.
“Can you smell ore?” Sara asked, and she too seemed to have a conduit directly to his heart. “Can you name it?”
He wanted to answer her. Sloane sang more stridently. Delaney let his memories take command, let them guide his thoughts into darkened and unknown territory. He heard the rhythm of Sara’s breathing, felt her pulse through their interlocked hands.
Instead of visiting the academy in his memories, he found himself seeing Sara’s child. He could feel the pulse of life in the baby she carried, could see the boy’s fingers and toes, his lashes, his bones, his skin so sheer that it was almost transparent.
He could feel the force of the Smith in the boy’s veins, could sense the legacy and the power of the child. The vision of Quinn’s child was crystal clear to him and in close proximity. Sara’s round belly was inches away from his hand.
So close.
So vulnerable.
So ripe for the taking.
Delaney was horrified. The monster in the labyrinth roared with fury and Delaney heard Magnus’s imperious tones.
“Recruits!” Magnus hissed. Delaney didn’t know whether it was in old-speak or in his thoughts.
He knew that he couldn’t deny the command.
He shifted shape without any intention of doing so, rearing above his astonished fellows. His body moved of its own accord, flinging Sara away from the others while his claws stretched for her belly. He knew he was going to rip the child from her belly, steal it, and return to the academy, to offer it to Magnus.
He was horrified by his own move, but couldn’t stop.
Sara screamed his name when he turned on her.
Quinn roared and shifted shape, breathing white-hot dragon fire at Delaney. He was large and livid, furious in the defense of his mate. Delaney took a blow from Quinn’s massive sapphire and steel tail, and a trio of strikes.
Delaney fought for his own survival, but he couldn’t match Quinn’s determination to win. While he fought, Quinn breathed dragonfire, backing Delaney across the roof. Delaney saw his scales smoke, felt the pain of his injuries, and stumbled. He saw the rage in the Smith’s eyes and a part of him wished that Quinn would kill him.
Another part of him was powerless to deny Magnus’s command. He understood now what his mission was—Magnus wanted him to collect the children of the Pyr, to recruit them as Slayers from the cradle. Magnus had released him deliberately to fulfill this mission. Magnus had planted his command within Delaney and it was triggered when he relaxed in the presence of pregnant mates.
Delaney’s gaze fell on Alex on the far side of the roof, less pregnant but still with child. To his horror, Magnus whispered a command deep in his own thoughts, one he could not deny. Delaney’s body lunged to capture Donovan’s mate.
He dove for Alex without wanting to do so, snatching at her as he made to take flight. She kicked him, although it was futile for her to defend herself against him, her anger as great as Quinn’s. Donovan roared and latched on to Delaney’s back, ferocious in his assault.
Again, Delaney wished the Pyr would destroy him, but Donovan beat him badly and cast him aside. Delaney fell from the roof, panting and bleeding.
“What’s the matter with you?” Donovan shouted after him with disgust. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Magnus,” Sloane whispered in old-speak. Delaney was glad that someone knew what he endured.
He also heard the hopelessness in the Apothecary’s tone. He knew then that he’d exhausted Sloane’s arsenal of healing potions.
He’d have to heal himself.
Somehow.
Delaney caught himself from hitting the pavement, and flew back toward the roof. As soon as the women were in view, that imperative sounded within him again. His body began to move in their direction and he felt viciousness stir within him.
Delaney wrenched his attention away from the women. He changed course with an effort and turned his back on his fellows.
There was only one answer. He had to banish himself from the Pyr. It wasn’t safe for him to be around them. He wasn’t going to injure their mates; he refused to capture their children.
He had to leave.
His life already wasn’t worth living. He flew high over Chicago with no clear destination and decided that if death was inevitable, he’d make his death worthwhile.
Delaney would eliminate the Elixir that gave Magnus his power or die in the attempt.
“Where did you get it?”
Eileen was drying herself off when she heard Erik’s voice. She knew exactly what he was talking about, even before she saw him tossing the rune stone into the air and catching it with one hand. He stood in the doorway to the bedroom, nude and confident.
Direct, as only he could be.
He cast her a crooked smile and she wanted him all over again.
“I thought you’d sleep longer.”
“I seldom sleep much.” He held up the rune stone, indicating that she hadn’t answered his question.
“I’m not sure. It was in my coat pocket.” She wrapped a towel around her wet hair, feeling the appreciation in his gaze when she didn’t cover up. It was cozy standing in his bathroom like this, and she felt comfortable in her skin in a way that she seldom did with a man. Where she might have found fault with this curve or that one, Erik seemed to like her just as she was. “I found it there when we were on Lynne’s roof.”
“Sigmund must have put it into your pocket when your coat was over him.”
“I guess so. Thorolf recognized the symbol as Viking, so I assumed it must be yours.” Eileen heard the question in her voice and saw Erik’s quick nod of acknowledgment.
“It was my father’s.” He studied it as he turned it in his hand. “He gave it to me a long time ago.”
“
Erik nodded slowly, turning the rune stone thoughtfully. He frowned slightly. “And he gave it to his other grandfather to use against my father.”
Eileen remembered what she’d seen in the vision Erik had shown her and understood a bit more. “It was the core of the alchemist’s spell?”
Erik nodded again. “He could never have done what he did without it. Another mistake on my part.”
“You couldn’t have known.”
“I suppose not.” Then he cast her a mischievous glance, his eyes dancing as she would have never imagined they could. He looked lighter and reinvigorated—his vitality stole her breath away. “But best of all, you’ve given it to me.”
“So?”
“That means that the story has a better ending now.”
“How so?”
“It can be the core of another ritual.”
“What do you mean?”
Erik took her hand and put the rune stone into her palm, closing her fingers securely over it.
“Hey, there are no sparks.” Eileen still felt aroused by Erik’s touch.
“The firestorm is over.”
Did that mean that their relationship was over? Eileen didn’t believe it. Erik wouldn’t abandon his child that easily—and she couldn’t believe he’d abandon her either.
She knew she hadn’t misplaced her trust this time and she chose to be confident in her choice.
“For someone who is answering questions, you’re not answering them very well,” she teased.
“I will. But first you need to call your sister,” Erik said. “Immediately.”
“You’re right,” Eileen said with a snap of her fingers. She looked into the bedroom for her satchel, knowing her cell phone would be in its depths. “I should have already called to say that I wouldn’t be there before returning home. . . .”
Erik caught her hand and pulled her to a stop. “No. You need to persuade her to accept Rafferty’s offer for the Dragon’s Teeth.”
Eileen paused to consider him. “You sound like you know something I don’t.”
“I do. And it’s about time.” He grinned when she eyed him with confusion, then stepped into the bathroom, as self-satisfied as Eileen had ever seen him.
Which was saying something.
Chapter 25
The woman phoned Rafferty’s shop on Monday morning, hesitation in her tone. Rafferty agreed to meet with her immediately, as much to give himself a distraction from his worries as to offer any reassurance that he could. Lynne Williams was obviously concerned, and Rafferty liked the idea of being useful to someone.
When she arrived shortly thereafter, Rafferty acknowledged that Lynne Williams was also beautiful.
She arrived at his office with two little girls in tow, as well as a small suitcase in her hand. Rafferty was troubled by the sense that he had seen her before, even though he knew they’d never met. There was a gold wedding ring on her left hand, but his appreciation was simply an enjoyment of being in the presence of beauty.
He offered tea, which she declined, then settled the two young girls at a smaller table with a wooden Chinese puzzle. “They can’t break it,” he reassured their mother, then gestured to the chair opposite his desk. “How can I help you?”
“Well, this is very strange, even for my sister.” She sat with the carry-on bag perched on her lap. “She was supposed to come back to visit before going home to the States, but I didn’t really expect her to. She’s always following stories and forgetting appointments—I mean, that’s her job, so it’s to be expected that she’d be fascinated by it—and when she headed back to Ironbridge after that Dragon Lover of Madeley story, I doubted I’d see her again on this trip. I figured she’d call me from Boston and apologize.”
Rafferty settled into his own chair and folded his hands. He’d already heard enough to be intrigued. He let Lynne tell her story without interruption.
He’d made a lifelong habit of being patient, after all.
She heaved a sigh. “But I didn’t expect to get a key in this morning’s mail from her, with this note.” She pushed a folded piece of paper across the desk to Rafferty. He flipped it open with a fingertip, read his own name, and understood why Lynne Williams had come to him.
His pulse quickened to see her sister’s name.
Eileen.
Eileen Grosvenor?
“So, I went to the luggage locker at the station and picked this bag up. It’s her bag—you see, it still has her luggage tag on it, so I’m not going crazy.”
It was the bag of Eileen Grosvenor. Rafferty straightened.
His guest slid open the zipper. “But there are these things in it, and I’m hoping that you know what they are.”
Rafferty’s heart stopped cold when she lifted out the first bundle. A piece of fabric in brilliant chartreuse with orange and pink dots was wrapped around something the size of his guest’s fist. He hardly dared to watch as she unfolded the cloth and put one of the Dragon’s Teeth squarely in the middle of his blotter.
Rafferty caught his breath. He reached out and saw that his hand was shaking. He picked up the tooth with reverence and turned it in his grasp, confirming that it was what he believed it was. It was old, it whispered to him of the earth, and he was profoundly relieved to see it safe.
Where were the rest?
He glanced up to find his guest watching him closely. “You know what it is.”
“Yes. I was afraid it had been stolen. Or destroyed.” He set it down carefully. “This is a tremendous relief.” Rafferty swallowed and eyed the carry-on bag. “Dare I hope that there are more?”
“How many should there be?”
“Ninety-nine. They were in a box when I saw them last, a wooden box that had been made for them.”
She shook her head. “I don’t have the box, just this bag.” She reached into the bag and removed another bundle. She placed the next tooth beside the first one.
At his gesture, she put the bag on the desk. She and Rafferty worked together, unwrapping the Dragon’s Teeth and aligning them in rows.
“Ninety-nine,” she said, then wrinkled her nose. “Are they really teeth?”
“Yes. Ancient relics.”
“Like dinosaur bones.”
“Similar to that.”
Her gaze flicked from the Dragon’s Teeth to Rafferty. “Why do you think Eileen wanted me to bring these to you? Are you a dealer in bones as well as antiques?”
He understood that she already knew the answer to her question. He smiled. “Because she knew I wanted to buy them, and she knew I would pay you cash, no questions asked.”
His guest raised a brow. “No questions asked.”
Rafferty inclined his head in agreement.
She frowned and straightened. “Maybe I should take them back to whoever owns them.”
“It looks like you own them now.” Rafferty leaned across the desk, hoping he could persuade her to his view without beguiling her. “These relics were scheduled to be sold this very week, and I was, I believe, the only party interested in their purchase. I still am.”
She reached for one tooth, frowning. “I think I’d better call the police.”
“I would pay enough for both of your daughters to attend university.”
She paused, her hand hovering over the tooth. “That’s a lot of money. They might want to go to graduate school.”
“Fine. At both the undergraduate and graduate level.” Rafferty named a sum, then wrote it down so there could be no misunderstanding.
She looked from the number to her daughters and back to him.
“We’ll put it in two trust funds,” Rafferty said. “We can do the transfer from here, before you leave today.” Rafferty pivoted and booted up his computer. He gestured to the phone. “Call your bank. Call your husband.”
“You really want these teeth.” She drummed her fingers on the bag, uncertain of what was the right choice. “I wish I could just talk to Eileen,” she mu
A cell phone rang then. Rafferty watched his guest dig in her purse. She flashed him a smile of apology and he turned to his computer as she moved away for some privacy. He heard her exclamation of pleasure and wondered whether he could be so lucky that Eileen might call her sister in this critical moment.
If Eileen had been with Erik, and Erik had had his gift for prophecy back, Rafferty could have believed it. As matters stood, he was skeptical.
Lynne came back a moment later, her expression more relaxed. “Eileen said I should accept your offer, that that was why she sent me to you.” Her smile broadened; then she pushed the piece of paper back across the desk to him. “But she said to insist on twenty thousand more, that Erik says you’re good for it. Should I know what that means?”
Rafferty couldn’t keep himself from grinning. He knew what it meant. Erik had consummated his firestorm and intended to stay with his mate—and his ability to foretell the future had returned, possibly as a result of that.
Rafferty had been right, and Erik knew it.
And they were allies again.
The relief that rolled through Rafferty weakened his knees, but he welcomed it. “It means that your daughters are going to university, that’s all,” he said with a smile.
His guest smiled back at him. “I have one request, though.” Rafferty paused and glanced toward her, assuming she wanted the money deposited in a certain way. He was puzzled when she picked up one of the pieces of fabric that the Dragon’s Teeth had been wrapped in.
“Can I have my fabric back?” she asked, her nose wrinkled in a way that made her look young and cute. “Some of this stuff is expensive and if you’re not going to use it . . .”
“I’m not going to use it,” Rafferty said with relief. “Take it and the bag, and welcome to it. Take the puzzle that your girls are enjoying, too.”
“You’re really pleased.”
“You have brought me my heart’s desire.” Rafferty paused to amend that. “Or at least one of my heart’s desires.”
His firestorm, he chose to believe, would still come.