Читать книгу Enticing The Dragon - Jane Godman - Страница 11

Chapter 2

Days of yore. Torque liked that phrase. It was all-encompassing, conjuring up images of chivalrous knights in armor on white chargers, maidens in distress and, of course, the obligatory dragon who terrorized the neighborhood by demanding a regular blood or virgin sacrifice.

Except legend didn’t always get its facts straight. Sometimes the maidens did the rescuing, the knights were the ones who terrorized and the dragons were in charge of chivalry. To Torque, yore was more than just a nostalgic word for describing a bygone era. It summed up a time when the veil between worlds had been thinner. When the line between magic and mundane was blurred. When mortals had accepted the evidence of their hearts and their souls. Science had brought humankind a long way. Its benefits were far-reaching, but it had closed down many of those instincts. People looked with suspicion upon the very things that had once sustained them. Witches were cast out, charms and spells were frowned upon, alchemy faded into insignificance.

And dragons? What of those unique creatures who, most people would say, had only ever existed in legend? Even the believers, the humans who truly wanted dragons to have been real, would shake their heads sadly and mourn their loss, holding on to them through their games, paintings and stories.

It was better this way, of course. The last of the true dragons had died out five hundred years ago, spending his last days on a remote island in the South China Sea. Now only the dragon-shifters—a unique breed of half human, half dragon beings—remained. If the world ever discovered their existence? Torque clenched his jaw hard. Not on my watch. He had no desire to end his days in a cage, poked and prodded in the name of research. Even worse would be to become an exhibit in the name of entertainment, paraded and ogled like an elephant in a circus.

Torque was a dragon-shifter, but he no longer bore any responsibility to the others of his kind. His leadership had been brought to an abrupt end and the world had moved on from the days of dragon clans and oaths of fealty. He was the last of his kin. The mighty Cumhachdach had been wiped out by powerful magic, his own life saved only because the sorceress who killed his clan had chosen to torture him by keeping him alive. There had been a time, once... He shook his head, clearing it of any lingering thoughts as he unfurled his huge wings and took to the skies. Once might as well be never. These days, his only loyalty was to himself.

He swooped over his private island, blending easily with the night sky. As he flew lower over the dense forest, his scales changed color to match the tones of the trees. Camouflage was the dragon version of invisibility. Had he ventured into a city skyline, he would have become concrete gray. When he passed over an ocean in daylight, he was the exact blue of the waves below him and the sky above.

Torque’s eyes scanned the landscape, homing in on a tiny creature moving in grass and the tilt of a bird’s wing many miles away. His ears isolated individual sounds, locating rustling leaves and human voices along the coast. Dragon senses were the keenest of all, but on this night he was distracted by his human emotions. Feelings he barely understood were pulling at the edges of his consciousness, forcing his attention away from the beauty of the landscape.

After centuries of being alone—and liking it that way—he had felt something deep inside him stirring. And he knew why. All it had taken was a pair of green eyes, a shy smile and an enticing figure. It wasn’t as if he lived a hermit’s life as a human. He was a rock star. Temptation came his way and he didn’t turn it down. Beast worked hard and played harder. Although the dynamics had changed now that Khan, lead singer and former party-animal-in-chief, had become a happily married man.

Torque knew why his emotions were in turmoil. The Pleasant Bay Bar’s new employee had shaken him so much he couldn’t think of anything but her. Hollie Brown was undeniably good to look at, and she had admitted that she was a fan. A plume of white smoke rose from his nostrils into the night sky as he snorted. He encountered fans all the time. His head wouldn’t be turned by nothing more than a pretty face.

No, this was about something deeper and far more dangerous. Throughout the many centuries of his existence, Torque had never considered the possibility of taking a mate. Dragons mated for life and so did shifters. Fortunately, his mortal persona wasn’t bound by the same constraints. When it came to his sex life, Torque preferred to be guided by his human genetics. They had served him well...up to now.

Now, suddenly, his instincts were telling him things were changing. It was crazy on so many levels. He knew nothing about Hollie. But he knew everything he needed. As soon as he had looked into her eyes, he had recognized two things. The first was that she was his. As if that wasn’t earth-shattering enough, the second was that she wasn’t who she claimed to be.

So, let’s take a second to analyze this... My mate just strolled into town. And she’s lying to me.

It wasn’t the best start to a long-term relationship. And he had to accept that his instincts must be wrong. Because Hollie couldn’t possibly be his mate. She was human. Dragons and humans? How could that ever be a thing? Other shifters could take humans as mates. It was rare, but when it happened, the humans could choose to become converts. That meant they could take the bite of their mates and be transformed into shifters themselves. Although it was a huge commitment, Torque had known of a few occasions when it had happened.

Not for dragons. To maintain the purity of the dragon bloodline, the option to convert a human mate didn’t exist for them. A dragon could have a relationship with a mortal, but it could only ever last as long as the human’s lifetime. They could never truly be fated mates.

Even supposing he decided to initiate the whole “mates for your lifetime” conversation, he couldn’t picture it going well. I’m a dragon... He just couldn’t see it working as a first-date conversation starter.

Normally, Torque looked forward to these nighttime flights. Maine wasn’t Scotland, the dramatic land of his birth, but the scenery wasn’t entirely dissimilar. Tonight, his heart wasn’t in his exercise routine. He had a feeling those green eyes and that shy smile might be responsible for his apathy. Something about Hollie had reminded him of the past. Yore. In those days there had been a creed, a code of honor, and she had reawakened it within his breast. Although nothing about their encounter had led him to believe Hollie needed his protection, Torque’s senses were on high alert. If she had been his mate—and that was one hell of a big if—and if there had been a looming danger, back in the day he would have been beneath her window, watching over his lady while she slept. Simpler times, easier solutions.

Circling the bay one last time, he landed on a slope close to the trees. His huge claws gripped the soft ground, gouging deep into the grass. Folding his wings close to his body, he shifted quickly back to his human form. Naked, he stretched his limbs, enjoying the sensation of the cool air soothing his heated flesh.

He had left his clothes in the boat and he shrugged them on, weighing up whether to spend the night on the island. The little cabin in the trees was basic, but comfortable, and he kept the refrigerator stocked in case he decided to stay over. But he needed Wi-Fi if he was going to check his emails for details of Beast’s forthcoming tour. And he wasn’t sure the isolation of the island suited his current restlessness.

Torque could have easily rowed the distance across the bay, but he liked the soft chug of the motorboat. Although he enjoyed the peace of the bay from the skies, now he was seeing a different view. This time—the hours between midnight and dawn—the old witching time, was when that veil between worlds was thinnest. When it almost seemed there was still a hint of the old magic in the air.

His inner dragon was a creature of contrasts, craving wide-open spaces when in flight but seeking solitude when grounded. The cinematic depictions of dragons living underground, guarding their hoards of treasure, were an exaggeration, but he liked enclosed spaces. Out here, on the water, he felt small and alone. Un-dragon-like. It wasn’t unpleasant, but it challenged his shifter senses. And speaking of senses...

He tilted his head, trying to figure out what was different. As he neared the wooden jetty in front of his mainland home, he caught the first whiff of smoke. It was delicious and woody. The scent of burning called to his dragon the way catnip affected a kitten. Except something was wrong. The scent was out of place and the night sky over the town shouldn’t be lit by a golden glow.

Leaping out of the boat, Torque broke into a run as he realized what was happening. The Pleasant Bay Bar was on fire.

* * *

Hollie’s room was tucked away at the top of the old building. Doug had been apologetic about it. “I don’t know why the boss suddenly changed his mind about letting me go traveling. Don’t get me wrong—I’m glad he managed to find a replacement—but the short notice meant I didn’t have much time to get this room ready.”

She had assured him that the room was fine. And it was. A little on the small side, but it was clean and comfortable. Since she wasn’t going to be in Addison for long, it hardly mattered. There was no point finding an alternative. Once Torque left Maine to go on tour, she would be returning to Newark. This was somewhere to sleep, to use her laptop to record her notes, to call in to McLain and to gather her thoughts.

Ah, her thoughts. They should be all about the job she had come here to do, shouldn’t they? But they weren’t. She was totally shaken by how much the encounter with Torque had affected her.

You are a twenty-eight-year-old FBI agent, for heaven’s sake. You cannot still have a crush on a rock star.

It didn’t matter how much she reproached herself, how hard she tried to concentrate on typing up her notes, half her mind remained firmly fixed on a pair of shimmering eyes and a very disturbing smile. Torque’s mouth had lingered in her imagination as she drifted off to sleep. The disturbing, but pleasant, fantasy of feeling that full lower lip against her own had been achingly real...

The dream came quickly and she tumbled into it, welcoming it like a familiar friend. She couldn’t remember a time when she hadn’t experienced this slumbering adventure. It was warm, comforting and thrilling all at the same time.

Her sleeping self approached the giant creature. The beautiful red-gold dragon lay still, his breathing deep and rhythmic. A faint thrumming issued from his chest, and wisps of smoke curled from his nostrils, but she knew his inner fire would be subdued in slumber. His powerful hind limbs and huge coiled tail were tucked beneath him, and he slept on top of his hoard. His precious gems and jewels were scattered all around him, their brilliance dulled by the light of the cave.

When dream-Hollie approached, the dragon’s eyes opened as if a switch had been flicked. Smoke poured from his nostrils, and there was a sound of scales sliding over coins as he shifted position. Keeping his wings tucked in tight, he lifted his head to gaze at her. Hollie raised a hand to touch his face...

She came awake abruptly, angry that her dream had been interrupted. Her annoyance dissipated fast as she realized what was happening. Hollie had been in too many fire simulations not to recognize the real thing when she was thrust into the middle of it.

Subconsciously, when she arrived at the Pleasant Bay Bar, she had done what she always did and checked out the fire safety systems. The bar itself had been fine. As a business, it needed to comply with industry standards. When it came to an escape route, her bedroom was not ideal. It had only one door and a small window high above the street. She hadn’t realized, when she checked those things out on her arrival, that she would be putting them to the test quite so soon.

Smoke was already filling the room. Sliding from the bed, she found the T-shirt she had taken off when she undressed and tied it around the lower part of her face. Crawling commando-style in order to stay low, she made her way across to the door. Just as she had feared, one touch told her everything she needed to know. The wooden panels were hot beneath her fingertips. It meant the fire was raging on the other side of the door.

Although the window was her only escape route, she already knew it wasn’t going to be easy. She was two floors up and there was no fire escape. A thirty-foot drop onto concrete faced her. Break the glass and make some noise. That was about the best plan she had as she crawled her way back across the room.

This was no coincidence. That thought hammered through her mind as the toxic smoke stung her eyes. The stench of synthetic carpet burning and electrical wiring melting made her gag. Above the roar of the fire, she could hear the whine of a smoke alarm. But it hadn’t done its job. It hadn’t warned her in time. It was a discordant thought, one for which she didn’t have time. She spent her life fighting fire, but this one was personal. This one was meant for her.

As she reached the window, the noise level changed. There was sound that could have been a roar of fury and the door came crashing in. That shouldn’t happen. Hollie knew how fire behaved. Although it could be unpredictable, it didn’t kick down doors. Through the choking haze, she saw a tall figure, framed by shimmering tongues of fire.

It’s too late. I’ve inhaled too much smoke...now I’m seeing things.

She sank helplessly to the rug, her eyelids drifting closed as the flame-haired figure strode toward her. She was swept up into strong arms...or maybe swept away on a tide of unconsciousness. It was impossible to tell which as she felt the searing heat on her exposed skin and through her lightweight pajamas.

Opening her eyes, she gave a horrified gasp. She was in Torque’s arms, and he was advancing toward the door. He was purposefully carrying her into the source of the fire. Desperately, she squirmed against him.

“Keep still.” His voice was different. Authoritative, slightly rasping. “If you move as we go down the stairs, I can’t protect you from the flames.”

This couldn’t be happening. This man—one of the most famous rock stars in the world—couldn’t seriously think he could get them down that blazing staircase. I am about to be killed by my celebrity crush. Either that or I really am hallucinating.

Unable to fight, she was helpless to do anything except press her cheek into the hard muscle of Torque’s chest as he stepped into the flames. Her job made what was happening so much worse. Hollie had seen too many burned bodies, had attended too many coroners’ inquests on people who had died in agony. This was a first. She had never come across a case in which someone had willingly walked through a blaze.

Yet, as Torque slowly made his way down the stairs, the strangest thing was happening. She could feel the heat of the flames, but it was like getting too close to a roaring coal fire. She was uncomfortable, but she wasn’t being incinerated. Wrapped tight in Torque’s arms, she had the strangest feeling that he was the source of her protection. But how could that be? It was like he was fireproof. She caught glimpses of what was going on around them. Flames were licking at his arms and shoulders, catching the long length of his hair and dancing gleefully like a halo around his head. Torque was on fire...but he didn’t flinch.

As they neared the final step, one of the ceiling beams gave way with a weary groan. Orange cinders rained down on Torque’s head as he reached up a hand and caught the blazing bar. Still holding Hollie tight against him with his other hand, he gave a grunt that sounded like it was half pain, half annoyance as he thrust the beam aside without breaking his stride. Two more steps and he was kicking open the door that led them into the street.

Her last memory before she passed out was of those moonstone eyes glowing bright with concern as he placed her gently on the grass.

* * *

Hollie slowly opened her eyes, hoping she’d been dreaming, fairly certain she hadn’t. Her throat felt like she’d drunk a glass of chopped razor blades and her nose itched unbearably. Her eyes streamed with the effects of the smoke and she smelled disgusting. Lifting a hand, she could see thick black grime coating her skin. When she tried to sit up, everything ached.

A strong arm slid around her waist, and although she wanted to question its source, she was too grateful for the support. Leaning against a broad shoulder, she eased into a sitting position.

“What...?” The word came out as a feeble croak, followed by a coughing fit.

“I got you out before the blaze took hold of the staircase.”

They were far enough away from the burning building to be safe from any explosions or debris, but she could still feel the searing heat of the blaze. When she tilted her head to look at Torque, he took away what was left of her breath. With his hair streaming in the breeze and his eyes glittering with that strange intense light, he appeared otherworldly.

Around them, a fire team bustled into action and paramedics approached. Hollie might be feeling the effects of the smoke, but her memory was clear. Torque was lying about what had just happened. He hadn’t rescued her before the fire took hold. Like a comic book hero, he had carried her right through the heart of the inferno. And he was untouched, completely uninjured by the fire he had just walked through.

They should both have been incinerated. Instead, apart from the effects she was feeling from the smoke inhalation, they were unscathed. And Torque appeared... She searched for the right word. Invigorated. Perhaps it was the adrenaline rush of the rescue, but he appeared energized, his former laid-back manner replaced by restless, flickering presence he presented onstage. Almost as if the fire had entered his bloodstream.

I am hallucinating.

As a paramedic knelt at her other side and placed an oxygen mask over her nose and mouth, Hollie tried to get to grips with her new, alternate reality. An existence that included a superhero rock star. A man who could walk through fire. How the hell was she going to explain this to McLain?

“My laptop.” Her attempt at an exclamation was muffled by the mask.

“Pardon?” Torque leaned closer as he tried to hear what she was saying.

“All my clothes, my purse, my cell phone, my laptop...they were all in that room.” Her voice was still a painful rasp, but she managed to get the words out.

There was nothing left of the top floor of the Pleasant Bay Bar. The roof had fallen in and bright orange flames were shooting into the night sky. It was a pyrotechnic performance of epic proportions, almost as if the fire itself was celebrating.

Hollie’s professional senses got to work, weighing up what had happened. The fire must have started in the upper part of the building. Was it an arson attack? It was too soon to say. But it was an awfully big coincidence that Hollie, the person who was here to investigate the Incinerator, had almost died in a fire. The second thing Hollie noticed was that Torque had gotten here before the emergency services.

He had saved her life, and from that, she might assume he wasn’t the Incinerator. Unless the rescue was a huge double bluff, designed to throw her off the scent? As she turned her head back to look at him again, she had the oddest sensation of her world tilting off balance. Was Torque the Incinerator, and was he capable of such cunning? If he knew she was here to investigate him, had he planned to set a fire and save her from it, thereby lulling her into a false sense of security? Her heart wanted to rebel against such an idea, to tell her he wasn’t behind such deviousness, but her training and her experience warned her to be wary.

Hollie had been part of the team hunting the Incinerator for four years, wondering how the daring arsonist had set increasingly elaborate fires and escaped without injury. She didn’t know how Torque had walked through those flames and emerged unscathed. If she hadn’t seen it for herself, she wouldn’t have believed it was possible. All she knew for sure was, she had to find out more about this phenomenon and whether it was linked to their inquiry.

The paramedic removed the oxygen mask. “How does that feel?” The woman had checked her over and found no injuries. The only concern was the effects of the smoke.

“I’m fine.” Hollie knew better than anyone what the health risks were, but she could feel her lungs returning to normal. “I don’t need any further treatment.” She bit her lip. “I just don’t have anywhere to go.”

“You can stay at my place.” Torque’s breath was warm on her cheek.

His words triggered a world of conflict inside Hollie. She was here to investigate him. Staying in his house was certainly one way to keep a closer watch on him. It was also a good way to put herself in danger. She could almost hear McLain’s response. Outraged caution followed by an insistence that she get her ass back into the office immediately would probably be the mild version.

Hollie’s own internal warning system appeared to be broken. In spite of everything, her heart’s initial reaction to his offer was a leap of joy. Common sense refused to prevail, but maybe that was because her choices were seriously limited. It was the middle of the night, she was coated from head to foot in foul-smelling ash, she could barely open her eyes and she sounded like a donkey with asthma. The only clothes she possessed were these once-pink, now-black pajamas. Even if she’d had the strength to get to her feet, she didn’t have her ATM card to draw the cash to get herself home...

With a sound that could have been a laugh, but was closer to a sob, she rested her head back against Torque’s chest. It was a very comforting place to be. “Thank you.”