ClosertoFire Page 8

  She grinned, excitement pooling low in her belly. “Maybe.”

  He laughed. “At your service.” His voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper as Bane reached the table. “Give me an hour to find a few things.”

  “A few wha—” Lily began but he silenced her with a kiss.

  “Hush, gorgeous,” he murmured against her lips. “Trust me.” She bit her lip to stifle a giggle.

  “Should I be suspicious?” Bane asked, taking his seat and picking up his napkin.

  Lily affected innocence. “Of what?”

  Bane’s eyes narrowed.

  “So what did you find out?” Darek asked quickly, tapping her foot under the table.

  The distraction worked. “Anthony agreed to move the Inquiry to tomorrow night,” Bane said. “As for Kai and Savara…” He looked thoughtfully at his food. “I got Savara on the phone,” he said at last. “She desperately wants to meet Lily and Kai’s willing to humor her on that count. They agreed to meet us tomorrow morning on one of the islands off the coast.”

  Darek circled his hand in an impatient gesture. “And will they go with us to the Inquiry?”

  Bane hesitated. “I’m not sure.” Darek raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth, but Bane held up his hand. “Let me finish. Kai flat-out refused on the phone, but Savara told me to give her time to work on him. She seemed pretty sure she could convince him to go and speak on our behalf.” The men exchanged an amused glance.

  “What?” Lily asked, feeling as though she’d missed something.

  “Let’s just say that Savara’s…got a lot of leverage with Kai,” Bane said. “I think it’s reasonable to hope that he’ll come around.”

  “But can she sift us all out of there if she needs to?” Darek asked.

  Bane took a swallow of his drink before answering. “She says she’s never sifted an entire group before—just herself and Kai—but she sees no reason she couldn’t do it.” When Darek looked dubious, Bane shrugged. “We could always try it beforehand to see if it will work.” Darek nodded but didn’t look entirely convinced.

  They ate in silence for a few moments before Lily asked, “Does that mean we’re free for the evening?”

  Darek turned to Lily, nodding, his gaze earnest. “Where do you want to go?” he asked. “We have a wide range of options.”

  Lily looked from him to Bane, who nodded his agreement. She thought for a second. “Somewhere wild,” she said dreamily. Then, expanding on her fantasy, she added, “Somewhere where you two can shift. I want to see your other form. Where we can stay outside, have a campfire, go swimming and play dirty games all night if we want.”

  Bane grinned, his gaze meeting Darek’s. “The Southern Aerie it is.”

  Lily raised her eyebrows.

  “Ancient dracambri secret,” Darek said, patting her leg. Lily was about to push him for an answer when the waiter approached the table.

  “Anything for dessert?”

  * * * * *

  At sunset, Lily found herself on a deserted beach. She sat on a blanket between Darek and Bane, her knees drawn up to her chest as they waited for the last fiery streaks to fade from the horizon. The mild, salty breeze stirred her hair and she turned to face the wind, inhaling deeply, trying not to fidget—and not to wonder what was in the large black duffel bag Darek had brought along. When she’d asked earlier, he’d answered only, “things for later”, which piqued her curiosity.

  “Impatient?” Darek asked, his dark eyes showing amusement.

  “Yes,” she answered, resting her chin on her knees.

  He leaned close to her ear, his voice dropping a notch. “How about a little game to pass the time?” he asked.

  Her pussy clenched at the deep sound of his voice. Goose bumps formed on her arms. “What did you have in mind?” she asked, trying to sound casual.

  He crossed his legs and gestured to her. “Come sit in my lap.”

  She rose to her knees, moved over to him and was about to settle into his lap when he shook his head sharply.

  “Face me.” She turned to face him, very aware of Bane’s watchful, approving gaze. From his left pocket, Darek drew a piece of black cloth—a blindfold, she realized—and raised it to her face. She let him cover her eyes and tie the cloth, securing it at the back of her head.

  “Now,” he said, his voice deep and resonant, “what do you see?”

  Huh? What was he playing at? “I see…um…nothing.”

  “Try again,” he prodded and she felt his strong, calloused hands slide under her shirt. It tickled and she reflexively covered them with her own. He stilled and she swore she could smell his disapproval—hard and acrid. She took her hands away, resting them on his shoulders instead.

  “That’s better,” he said, his voice a throaty purr. He pulled her close. His breath was warm on her neck. “Now tell me what you see,” he murmured. His teeth grazed her neck gently and she shivered, letting her head fall back, exposing her throat to him. Something—his thumb—brushed ever so lightly over the mark at the base of her throat, and her internal world exploded into color.

  She inhaled sharply with surprise. “I see you,” she said, startled by the clarity of the vision in her mind’s eye. “You’re standing at the edge of a cliff but I’m not afraid you’ll fall. You’re looking down, far below, into a lake so blue it’s almost painful to look at. It’s a gorge, or a…”

  “A fjord?” he asked. Lily stopped, reaching for the edge of the blindfold, wanting to see his face. He grabbed her hands, securing them behind her back. She huffed, frustrated, but didn’t protest. His body felt good against hers—strong, warm, secure. “Go on,” he said, his voice seeming to come from all around her now.

  “Yes, a fjord, I guess. You’re waiting for something,” she said, then shook her head. That wasn’t quite right. “No, someone.” She paused, watching the fantasy in her head develop a life of its own. “You’re looking up now, across the lake, over the treetops on the far side. You’re…you’re glowing,” she said, wondering now. Whose mind-picture was this, anyway? She watched as the vision unfolded. “Red. You’re glowing red.”

  “Uh-huh,” he said, his voice encouraging.

  “The color—the red light—it starts in your eyes and sort of spirals out in thin lines all over your body. You’re gone!” she said, her voice lowering to a whisper. It was true. Dream-Darek had vanished, eclipsed by a corona of glittering scarlet. A dark form was visible in the center of the field of light, but it was a growing, amorphous mass. Then the red light began to fade, and in Darek’s place stood something she didn’t have adjectives to describe. The noun, however, she knew. “A dragon,” she murmured, full of wonder.

  The creature was an enormous scarlet beast, a magnificent marriage of reptile and avian. Awe filled her and she wished fervently that she could touch it. The dragon regarded her dispassionately with a slit-pupiled gaze from a height of about thirty feet. Sharp, venomous-looking horns crested its head and ran down its thick neck in two rows. Its membranous wings were folded against its back, bony structures ending in hooked talons. She watched, entranced, as the creature settled to the ground, gracefully folding its legs and curling its long, whiplike tail around its body. Its hide, plated with a mosaic of circular gemstone scales in all shades of red, was stretched taut over ridge upon ridge of solid muscle. In the vision, Lily approached it slowly, drawn by its unblinking gaze.

  Darek shook her shoulders and she nearly screamed, startled out of her vision. Letting go of her hands, he slipped the black cloth from her eyes and she blinked in the light of a campfire that hadn’t been there before. They were still on the beach—she could tell that much. They were sitting on the same blanket, which was now at the edge of the firelight. It had grown dark, and Lily could see very little outside the halo of the fire.

  Darek cupped her face in his hands, turning her this way and that as though looking for bruises. “Shhh,” he said. “You were out, Lily. I couldn’t get you to talk. Are you okay?”

&nb
sp; “Yeah,” she said after a long moment. “I was… I’m not sure what happened.”

  “We showed you a picture,” he said. “Did you see it?”

  She nodded. “I forgot where I was. I wanted to touch.”

  “What did you see?” he asked.

  “I saw you, and then you…you turned into a dragon,” she replied, feeling foolish. It was one thing to hear words like “dragon-shifter” from Darek and Bane—it was quite another thing to say it.

  “What color was the dragon?” Darek asked, tucking a stray hair behind her ear.

  “Red,” she replied.

  He smiled as though satisfied.

  She looked around her, gathering her wits—and realized Bane had disappeared. “Where’s Bane?”

  Darek smiled. “Not far. Do you want to go find him?”

  Something in his tone made her wary. “Why? Are we still playing a game?”

  He shook his head. “No. No games. You were out for a while. Bane shifted. He could gather wood and brush for the fire faster that way. He’s down by the water. Come on,” he said, urging her to stand.

  She did so, her legs feeling shaky, and he joined her, taking her hand. “Wait.” Darek stopped, his eyebrows raised. “If your dragon is red, what color is Bane’s?”

  “Three guesses,” he said playfully.

  “Well, he has to be blue,” she murmured, her hand drifting to the tiny dragon symbols at the base of her throat. “Blue and gold?” She looked to Darek for confirmation but he said nothing. He lifted the mysterious duffel and her small bag, and gestured toward the shoreline.

  Once they were outside the circle of the campfire, Lily’s eyes quickly grew accustomed to the darkness. The moon was just a sliver high in the sky, its meager light dancing across the water’s restless surface. Off to their right, about a hundred yards away, Lily made out a large shape on the shore, not far from the breakers. Like they had in her vision, excitement and nerves pooled in equal measure in her belly as they drew closer to the creature. Its head shifted a little and she realized that it—Bane, she corrected herself—was aware of their approach. She wondered what was going through his mind.

  “In your dragon form are you still yourself?” she asked. Darek gave her an appraising look as they walked. When he didn’t answer, she continued, “I mean, is it like being Darek, only in another body, or are you a different thing entirely?”

  He tilted his head. “I’d never really thought about it before,” he answered after a moment. “I suppose I’m still pretty much myself, in that my memories and experiences are all there. But my perceptions, my immediate desires, the way I experience the world…that’s all very different. Someday, when our connection is strong enough, I’ll show you.”

  She glanced up at him. “Like you showed me a couple of minutes ago?”

  He smiled. “Bane showed you that. He’s a stronger psychic than I am. It was a memory of his.”

  She slowed as they drew nearer the dragon, trying to take in everything at once. “I wish I could see better,” she murmured. No sooner had she spoken the words than a soft glow emanated from its skin and scales, bathing them in blue light. The light danced over the dragon’s long, lean form in shimmering bands. She’d assumed that Bane’s dragon would look very much like the one in her vision. She’d been wrong.

  The dragon was resting, its legs folded elegantly, its neck stretched out, its head flat on the sand. Its form was uncannily still. If it hadn’t been for the slight movement of its eyes as it followed them, she might have thought it was sleeping. Its eyes were haunting, she thought, cautiously approaching its head. Other than the unusual blue color of its irises, so like Bane’s in human form, there was nothing recognizably human—or even mammalian—in the dragon’s gaze.

  Darek clasped her hand. “It’s still him, Lily.”

  The dragon blinked as they drew closer, two sets of eyelids, one vertical, one horizontal, closing and reopening in rapid succession. A row of tiny, needlelike horns ran the length of its snout, trailing up between its eyes to a crest of much larger horns that angled back from its head.

  Her gaze traveled down its long, serpentine neck to its body. Though no smaller than the blood-red creature from her vision, Bane’s form was more compact. He had less mass in his midsection than Darek had, a difference that was compensated for by his wings. Even folded, they looked bigger somehow.

  It took her a moment to figure out what was different. She inhaled sharply, tightening her grip on Darek’s hand. “Feathers,” she said wonderingly. “They’re covered with feathers.”

  Lily closed the final five feet to stand by Bane’s head. His lower fangs, clean and white, came up to her waist. Tentatively she laid her hand on his snout. The leathery skin was warm, almost hot to the touch. His nostrils flared as he drew in an immense breath. She had to bite back a startled grunt.

  “Most people start with the tail,” Darek said wryly. He stepped up behind her, his very solid, very human frame comforting, and laid his hand over hers. Together they stroked the mosaic of tiny scales covering Bane’s face. The bumpy surface was hard, the scales as smooth as glass and warm. Bane’s eyes drifted closed as though he found her touch pleasing. This close, she could see that his scales weren’t entirely blue. They were shot through with threads of gold, like ore in a mine.

  “It’s okay, Lily. He won’t bite,” Darek said. The dragon’s eyes flicked open as Darek spoke the words and he chuckled. “Not hard, anyway.”

  “How does he communicate in this form?” she asked. “Surely he can’t talk.”

  Darek chuckled. “No, he can’t speak in this form, but he projects his thoughts to me. Can you hear him, Lily?”

  She shook her head.

  He shrugged. “That sort of bridge takes time to build,” he said. “Pictures are easier to project than words.”

  “But he can understand us?” she asked.

  “Oh yes,” he said. “His hearing is much better than ours. All of his senses are, in fact. He sees in infrared, so darkness is no obstacle to him. But his sense of smell is the most acute and the most important. Without it, he’s effectively blind.”

  Lily walked down the length of Bane’s neck, giving the talons on his foreleg a wide berth, and stopped beside his shoulder, looking up at his enormous wings. As she watched, a series of thick scales that ran from the base of his shoulder to his withers flexed, folding outward.

  “Want to go flying?” Darek asked, gripping one of the lower scales. “He’s inviting you to mount.” She grinned, unable to help herself, and Darek swatted her butt playfully. “Bad girl.”

  She really should not like it when he did that, Lily thought.

  The flexed scales formed something between a ladder and a climbing wall, and Darek climbed easily up. She followed, finding her footing with surprising ease. On this part of the dragon’s body, his scales were tough like its hide. A larger scale rested at the apex of his shoulders, a thick, flexible plate that reminded her of a saddle. Darek straddled it in one practiced move, pushing one of the thick, upward-facing scales behind his thigh outward and using it like a hook for the duffel and Lily’s bag. He left room for her to sit in front of him. Moving awkwardly, she did so.

  “It gets easier with practice,” he told her. His body felt good behind hers—warm and familiar—and she was grateful that he was with her. They’re both with you, Lily, she chided herself, but somehow she couldn’t quite feel Bane in the beast beneath her.

  The dragon lifted its head and looked toward the forgotten campfire, which winked out as though it were a candle snuffed. Lily opened her mouth to ask if he’d done that but the dragon got to its feet in a sinuous, fluid movement that made her stomach flip.

  Darek wrapped his arms around her. “Hook your knees under his scales.” She did as he said, grasping his forearms gratefully. Her heart pounded.

  She looked down and saw that on either side of Bane’s body, rows of overlapping scales faced each other. The rows nearest her legs were fle
xed outward, forming an open clamp-like structure. Behind her, Darek’s legs were enclosed in a similar formation of scales. Cool. She placed one leg and then the other between the rows of flexed scales. Immediately they closed tightly over her legs, holding them against Bane’s warm, smooth hide.

  “Shifter adaptation,” Darek said, regarding her amazed expression with amusement. “It does help if the riders don’t fall off.”

  “And the fire thing? How did he do that?” she asked.

  “We’re fire dragons—the element belongs to us. There are also water, air and earth dragons. Each group has its own sovrán. Kai’s a water dracambri.”

  Beside them, Bane’s great wings lifted, then extended. Lily saw that what she’d taken for thousands of glittering feathers were, in fact, thin scales. Following her gaze, Darek offered, “He gets those from his father’s line. They act like the flaps on plane wings. Makes him much more flexible in flight than I am. Hold on tight.” Not knowing what else to grab, Lily gripped Darek’s arms tightly. Just in time. Bane surged forward, gaining momentum as they moved up the beach. The beating of his wings as he reached for altitude made for an incredibly bumpy ride.

  “He says sorry,” Darek said next to her ear. “We usually take off from heights, like big raptors. Vertical liftoff isn’t very smooth.” The beast took one enormous leap and then they were airborne.

  Flying was like nothing Lily had ever imagined. Her stomach quivered and tightened as they rose in the air, Bane’s sinuous spine rising gently with each downstroke of his enormous wings. His wingspan had to be forty feet, she guessed, glancing off to the sides. The sound of the waves grew distant, then vanished altogether and there was only the swish of Bane’s wings against the air as they continued to climb. The sliver of a moon hovered above them, unbearably close.

  Lily leaned back against Darek, her heart soaring. The heat of his arms and the touch of Bane’s spine against her in its undulating rhythm made her want to moan with pleasure.

  She bit her lip. For God’s sake, girl, get a grip. You’re flying—flying—on a dragon’s back, and you’re getting wet? Risking a peek over Bane’s muscular shoulder, she saw the glint of his sharp talons in the moonlight and far below, the glossy surface of the moving ocean. Wonder merged with desire in her heart and she laughed aloud, not quite daring to throw her hands up in the air.