Chapter 9
“Do you always drive this fast?” Lyra watched the needle rise above one hundred.
“Yes.”
“Ah, back to one-word answers, are we? Sinking into deep silence. That’s not going to change what happened between us, you know.”
“I know.” He flicked her a glance. “There, two words. Happy?”
“Delirious.”
She couldn’t keep her mouth from turning up, though. He hadn’t closed up completely. Watching him pressed against the window, sinking into his misery, had torn her apart. She’d given him space, and eventually they’d succumbed to exhaustion and fallen asleep on the couch.
He turned up the car stereo, and a soft rock song filled the car. Queensr?che’s “Silent Lucidity” scrolled across the screen, and the guy sang about the dream being over…or was it just begun?
The words filled her chest. “We let ourselves have something, Archer. Maybe we’ll never have it again—”
“We won’t.”
The needle went higher, but he said nothing.
“Because it hurts too much to not have it. I know. I felt it, too, and, well, you probably felt me feeling it. I’m trying not to unleash everything I feel.”
“Don’t repress your feelings.” His order came out harsh. “It makes you cold and dead inside.”
It hurt that she couldn’t touch his arm, or any part of him now, that he couldn’t let himself feel.
“Is that why you’re so cold inside?” At his surprised look, she said, “I feel your cold, like stepping into the cooler at the bakery. Is that why you were craving my heat?”
“I let you get too close. Nothing good comes of that.”
She turned toward him, hands gripping the seat. “Something good did come of it. Look what we shared. It was beautiful.”
“And it hurt like hell.”
“But you said it wouldn’t hurt when you were full Caido.”
He kept his gaze ahead, which was good since he was going ninety-five. “Not physical pain.”
“Heartache? Is that what you mean?”
“I’ve spent my life feeling others’ emotions, taking in their pain and suffering as my own.” He paused, and the speedometer ticked back a few MPH. “I have never felt my own heartache until you.”
His low tone made each of those words land hard on her soul. She had made his heart ache. For the first time in his long life. Gods. The thought made her flop back in her seat.
A whoop sound definitely wasn’t part of the poignant song pouring from the stereo. Archer’s gaze flicked to the rearview mirror as blue and red lights flashed behind them.
She twisted around, seeing a police cruiser closing the gap. A Mud, of course, because Crescent police, the Guard, didn’t concern themselves with minor offenses such as speeding. They came in when someone used their magick abilities inappropriately. Or fatally.
Archer pulled over, the cruiser right behind him. The officer spent a couple of minutes running the tag, most likely. Or maybe letting the offender’s anxiety build up. But Archer didn’t look anxious in the least.
“We’re okay with time, aren’t we?” she asked, looking at the clock.
“We’re fine. Just a minor delay.”
“How often are you stopped for speeding?”
Lights pulsed against the dashboard and Archer’s face. “Just about every time I get on the interstate.”
The cop approached, and Archer rolled down his window.
He was young, Hispanic, and very annoyed. “What in the hell are you thinking, that just ’cause you have some hot car, you can go as fast as you want?”
“Officer, I appreciate that you’re going to give me a warning, because you made an error. I was only going sixty-five.”
The man’s angry furrows on his face smoothed. “I was…mistaken.”
“You were, but it’s all right. You’re regretful, and we can go on our way now.”
“Yes, sir, and have a nice day.”
He walked robotically back to the cruiser, and Archer pulled away.
“I wonder how much money they lose by you mesmerizing them.”
Archer’s mouth quirked. “A couple thousand…a month.”
“And you’re regretful,” she intoned the way he had.
Archer laughed, and she loved that she’d caused it.
“I hear Dragons can hypnotize, too.”
“Somewhat.” When he glanced at her questionably, she added, “Yes, I used it to get out of a speeding ticket once. Why do you speed all the time? Just because you can?”
“Because it’s a safe thrill.”
Ah, because metal and gears didn’t emit emotions, but only tempted a Caido into visceral thrills.
“When you take a corner too fast, and the tires drift for a second and you wonder if you’re going to lose control of the car…but you don’t because you’ve mastered driving skills.”
Poor dumb Muds, as good a job as they did, they had no idea what was going on in their city. Dragon fights, magick wars, and demon attacks, all beyond the scope of their law. And sight. Luckily, they had their own laws and police doing their best to keep their kind under control. Mostly.
Archer drove across the MacArthur Causeway and into a residential island neighborhood that had been developed before the age of enormous mansions.
Tightness grew in her chest as she searched for the address.
All she could think of was that dust on Jeremy’s floor.
She had touched Archer’s wings, felt the light and energy emanating from them.
The thought of them being torn from him—
“Stop your fatalistic ruminations, Dragon Girl. I know I told you not to repress your feelings, but right now I don’t need you worrying about me.”
“Sorry. I shall refrain from my ruminating. And worrying.” She flashed him a grin. “But you know what they say? Caring is sharing.”
He arched an eyebrow at her. “To be clear, I have never said that.”
“Probably not. Oh, look.” She pointed to a gated entrance nearly hidden by thick, unruly trees. “There it is.”
He rolled down his window, pressed the intercom, and identified himself to the person who answered. The gate slowly swung open.
She looked from side to side as they drove through the ornate arch with winged and fanged baby angels. “I feel like we’re going to see the Wizard of Oz.”
“Silva could potentially be much more dangerous. I think he’ll turn us down, but I’ll sense whether Jeremy, Marik, or your father are in the house.
” He pulled up to the circular driveway with a defunct fountain in the center.
This house looked a bit run-down, in need of paint and repairs.
Mature vegetation sprawled over what was likely a double lot.
Archer surprised her by taking her hand as they walked up the terraced steps. For show, in case Silva was watching them approach the double doors just beyond the Greek columns. His fingers sliding between hers gave her both a sense of security and a jolt of awareness.
Before they reached the doors, they opened. A thin man with sharp features sized them up with ice-chip eyes, finding her distasteful, judging by the slight sneer of his elegant mouth. He didn’t have much more respect for Archer.
“Come in,” he said with the most unwelcome tone.
He led them across a marble floor in a foyer that went up two stories and contained a massive, curving staircase.
The house had been spectacular many years ago, and in here, it tried valiantly to hold on to its former glory.
The man directed them to a parlor that was cold in both temperature and design.
“Silva will be with you shortly.”
The doors closed with an ominous thud. Archer had warned her not to say anything incriminating once in the house. They also had to be ready in case Silva suspected they were the very two people he’d targeted. If he was the enemy.
Archer wandered the room, pretending to admire the abstract artwork.
She knew he was probing for energies. His body stiffened, and he slanted her a look and a nod.
He’d felt something. Someone. Her fingers curled into fists, and her Dragon trembled.
She was hoping to find her pop here and terrified to find him here, too.
Pop? she mouthed.
The door opened, and a man who looked to be in his midtwenties entered.
With Crescents, that guess didn’t count for much, as they aged slowly once they reached puberty.
He wore the tight kind of shirt and black pants a bodybuilder might don, his black hair brushed back from his face.
His steel-blue eyes took in Archer first, sizing him up.
“You wish my attention?” he asked in a refined voice, now looking down his patrician nose at her.
“Thank you for seeing us,” Archer said.
Silva eyed their linked hands, and his expression tightened. “You presented a challenge, and I like challenges. But if you are here to find a way around our curse, I can’t help you.”
“Because I’m a Dragon?” she said, feeling Archer’s hand squeeze in warning.
“I don’t advocate the joining of Caido with any other being.”
“So you prefer they remain like monks?” she asked.
“Rather than being with a Dragon, yes.”
Archer took over the conversation. “I have heard that you are capable of changing the orientation of a fetus from, say, Dragon to Caido.”
His eyes narrowed. “Who told you this?”
“Jeremy Grant.”
Silva’s mouth twitched but otherwise he gave nothing away. “I must have a word with this Jeremy for spreading insinuations. I cannot change a fetus.” He shook his head. “Sad, that. So few of us, so many of them.” He deigned to glance at her.
“That’s not why we’re here,” Archer said. He tugged her closer. “Can you change an adult’s essence?”
His eyebrows rose at that. “Change her from Dragon to Caido?”
Archer nodded. “She doesn’t want to be Dragon anymore.”
Silva’s smile was acidic. “Because she’s in love with you. And you with her. How fucking romantic.” He speared her with a harsh look. “You would deny your Dragon? Give it up for love?”
She nodded, feeling her Dragon shake. She pulled her ache, her need to save Archer from his pain, to the surface for Silva to feel. He had obviously picked up her feelings for Archer. No, she would never give up her Dragon, even if it were possible. It was too much a part of her.
“Say the words, girl.”