Mercy Burns

advantage of height.

But the gold dragon was just as fast as the black.

Maybe I could do something about that. Maybe I could distract him enough to give Damon the upper hand.

I spread my arms wide and called the power of the dawn, letting it burn unchecked through my body—a maelstrom of energy that my dragon struggled to contain.

When I opened my eyes, the black dragon was chasing the gold, the powerful sweep of their wings causing wind to batter the trees and rooftops below them as they swept down from the sky.

I clenched my fists, heat blazing across my fingertips—a whirlpool of power that made my hands glow. Closer and closer the two dragons came, until the air around me filled with dirt and debris and all I could see was the fury in the gold dragon’s eyes.

I raised my hands and flung a wide band of flames directly at his face. Even as they arced upward, I reached deeper into myself, gathering all the energy I had, channeling it into my fingertips and then outward—this time as two needle-sharp spears that moved with blinding speed.

The broad band of flames slapped across Seth’s face. He snorted, shaking his head, his scales absorbing the impact, using it to fuel his own energy.

But he didn’t see the second, smaller spears. He couldn’t have, because he looked right back at me. And in that moment, the spears hit, burning deep into his retinas and destroying his sight.

He screamed—a harsh and painful sound. His wings jerked upward and he struggled to maintain position. And that was when Damon hit him, his claws sinking deep into Seth’s back, the weight forcing him earthward as Damon’s head snaked around and latched on to Seth’s throat.

They hit the dirt so hard the earth under my feet shuddered, and went rolling in a tangle of bodies and legs that made me fear for Damon’s wings. Blood spurted and there was another horrible scream that ended abruptly as Damon bit again.

The gold dragon stilled.

The black dragon struggled to untangle himself from the other then rose, one wing dragging as the blue shape-shifting fire began to crawl across his body, encasing him in its unearthly light as he transformed from dragon to human.

I was limping toward him before that transformation was completed, and launched myself at him the minute he reappeared. He grunted, a sound that contained pain, and yet his good arm held me with a fierceness that said he didn’t care.

“Thank God it’s over,” I murmured, trembling as I wrapped my arms around his neck and held on tight. He smelled of sweat and blood and fading anger, and never in my life had I inhaled anything sweeter.

For several seconds he didn’t say anything, just held on tight. In that moment, it would have been very easy to believe I was the most precious thing in his world.

After several minutes more, he shifted back slightly, then lifted my chin with a gentle finger and kissed me.

It was a kiss that was rich and warm, sweet and yet so filled with emotion that it made my heart ache. A kiss that said so much, yet one that left so much more unsaid.

When we finally parted, he brushed my cheek with the back of his hand, then stepped away and said, “I have to go.”

No. Not so soon. It can’t be over so soon. “But your arm is broken. You can’t fly.”

“I can steal a car, and there’s a medical kit in one of the bunk rooms. I can reset broken bones. It won’t be the first time I’ve done it.”

“But—”

He touched my lips gently, silencing me. “It’s not over yet. Hannish still needs to be caught—and now, before he has any chance to run.”

“But the only real evidence we have that Hannish is involved is the land purchase documents. Both Seth and Leon are dead, so they can’t really testify against him.” I hesitated, then added, “And the council isn’t likely to give too much credit to what either Tomi or I say. We don’t matter in their eyes.”

“You matter,” he said, voice gentle and dark eyes suddenly blazing with emotion. “Don’t ever believe otherwise.”

Say the words, part of me wanted to beg. Admit what you feel. But his admitting what he felt was a moot point, so I held my tongue. He was still going to walk away regardless. He’d decided that long before we’d met, and I had no reason to believe anything we’d shared would change that.

Not even the fact that his song rang clear and true in my mind.

“No matter what you might think, the council is not likely to take the word of two draman against that of a king’s heir,” I said softly, “which means it comes down to your word against his.”

“Not so,” Damon said. “Didn’t you wonder why I left you in that fridge, and in Seth’s hands, for so long?”

I studied him, hating the distance he was keeping between us and wishing I had the courage to lessen it myself. But I didn’t want him retreating any farther, and I suspected that’s just what would happen if I did attempt to move closer. “Well, now that you mentioned it, I think I did throw a few curses your way for not riding to the rescue sooner than you did.”

He smiled. “The ability to shadow is not the only reason certain dragons are chosen for this job.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Well, what a surprise. There’s something else you’ve failed to tell me.”

He laughed—a warm, rich sound that sent delighted shivers racing across my skin. “You have no idea just how much I actually have told you. More than anyone else, even my family.”

Maybe he had, but it wasn’t nearly enough, because he wasn’t telling me the most important thing of all.

He wasn’t telling me what he felt.

It didn’t matter that his emotions were evident in his kiss and his touch, or in the way we were so in tune with each other. I still needed to hear those words. Maybe there wasn’t any hope for the two of us, but surely he could just admit what he felt. I wanted to hear it, just once, so the words would keep me warm through the long nights ahead.

That wasn’t asking too much, was it?

But he didn’t say the words and probably never would. For several seconds I had to resist the urge to just turn and run from this man and the heartache that was waiting.

In the end, I simply asked, “So tell me what else muertes can do, and how it will solve the problem.”

His gaze flicked down my body, as if he had been expecting me to say something else. And maybe he had been. It wouldn’t have been the first time he’d sensed what I’d really wanted to say.

But, like me, he held his thoughts back, and simply said, “Muertes can link to broadcasters.”

I raised my eyebrows. “What the hell is a broadcaster?”

“Broadcasting is a psychic skill, and those who have it can telepathically link to several people at once.”

The delay suddenly made all sorts of sense. “Meaning you linked to this broadcaster while hidden in the shadows, and whoever he was linked to heard the whole of it?”

“Yes—both this morning, and when I was questioning Leon. The twelve members of the council heard every word said. Hannish’s fate has already been decided.”

“And now you have to execute that decision?”

“Yes.”

“And afterward?”

He knew what I meant, and brushed his knuckles lightly against my cheek, letting them slide down to my chin. “There is no afterward, Mercy. You know that.”

I stepped back, away from his reach, away from the smell and heat of him. “There’s one other thing you forgot to tell me about muertes, Damon.”

His fingers twitched, as if he were tempted to reach for me again, then he dropped his hand and simply said, “What?”