He thought about what Lannes had told him and let out his breath. “You’re not going to die, Lyssa.”
“We all die,” she replied. “I’d just prefer it to be of natural causes, and in the very, very, distant future.”
“Wouldn’t we all?” he shot back. “But I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”
He half expected her to throw their stairwell conversation right back in his face, but instead she gripped the edge of the table, with smoke beginning to rise from beneath her hands, and said, “You’re going to stick with me twenty-four/seven? You’re going to spend the rest of your life looking over your shoulder with me? No, I don’t think so. Besides, if you got hurt. .”
She looked down, and the candle flames around her spat and flared, while a wave of heat slammed from her body into his. “I don’t want you hurt.”
God, you twist me up, he wanted to tell her. . maybe right after he explained that looking over his shoulder with her for the rest of his life didn’t sound so bad.
“At least tell me you have a plan,” he said. “It’s crazy to go after the Cruor Venator without one.”
“You’re right. It’s crazy. I’m crazy. Lannes was right. I should never have let you get as close as. .” Lyssa stopped, grimacing to herself. “I’ll show you how to get out of here, but then you leave me alone.”
“Lannes is an idiot. And we’re well past the point of where you can tell me to get lost every time I ask questions you don’t want to answer.”
Lyssa pushed away from the table, so hard it slammed back into the wall. Grief and anger filled her eyes, and a terrible desperation. Eddie waited for her to speak, but instead she strode toward the door. He beat her to it, hands outstretched — determined not to let her go.
“Move,” she said, in a deadly quiet voice. Heat rose off her body. Eddie found his own power responding, control slipping — consumed by the desolation in her eyes.
“No,” he said, just as softly. “You had your chance to walk away. And so did I.”
She trembled, and another pulse of heat slammed against him. Eddie took it in, and something inside snapped loose: living and coiled, and hungry.
He tried to stay calm, to push it down, but his heart wouldn’t take any more. Fire rose from his stomach, through his blood. Fire, in his skin. Fire in his lungs.
“Lyssa,” he whispered.
Her eyes glowed brighter. “I don’t have a plan. You can’t plan for the Cruor Venator.”
“That kind of thinking will get you killed.” His voice shook with the strain of controlling the fire skimming beneath his skin. “I won’t let that happen.”
“You can’t stop it.”
“I can.”
“No. There’s a price for stopping the Cruor Venator, and you can’t pay it. So you walk away. Before they catch your scent. Before they feel this.”
She slammed her hand against his chest, and Eddie felt the heat of that contact in his bones. He reached up and grabbed her wrist, holding her. Where their skin touched, sparks flew.
Lyssa snarled, trying to pull away. Eddie refused to let go. He grabbed the collar of her sweater and hauled her even closer. Warnings screamed in his head, but the fire buried them, stealing his control, and fear.
“I’m not leaving,” he whispered harshly.
“The Cruor Venator will kill you,” she told him, face contorted with grief. “She’ll take everything you are, and drink it while you watch. . and in the end, just before you die, she’ll own you. She will own your heart. That’s what her kind do. All your dreams, all your love. . it’s shit to them. It means nothing except power.”
Her voice shook, and the candle flames sputtered, and exploded. Wax sprayed the table. Her paintings caught on fire.
“Lyssa,” he snapped.
“I won’t watch someone else die,” she snarled, and her teeth were suddenly huge and sharp, her pupils slit, daggered. Sparks of golden light trailed down her face, leaving behind pale skin that darkened and rippled with crimson scales. When she raised her right hand between them, trying to push him away, Eddie grabbed her wrist. Flames rushed over their skin in a roar of heat and power.
“Lyssa!” he shouted, and her face crumpled with misery and fear. She threw back her head, crying out in agony, and Eddie wrapped her in his arms, unmindful of her claws as they pressed deeper into his chest, piercing his shirt, his skin.
She twisted away, but he stayed with her, fire licking at them, fire between them, inside him, pushing outward until he thought his skin would burst like a bad fruit. Lyssa started sobbing. Beneath his hands, her body contorted. Bones cracked. Muscles twisted in ways that should have been impossible. He felt her spine grow jagged and sharp beneath the sweater.
But she did not shift. It was all wrong. Every shape-shifter Eddie knew changed shape in one fluid transition that lasted only seconds at best. Painless. Even beautiful.
This was ripping her apart.
“Don’t be afraid,” he whispered, holding her tighter. “Listen to my voice, Lyssa. Listen to me.”
She screamed. Eddie crushed her to him, digging his hands into her hair. Fire tore through their clothing, flowing from their chests outward, wrapping them in light.
They burned.
Chapter Sixteen
Don’t be afraid.
But she was afraid.
Afraid and broken, from the inside out. Fighting only made the pain worse, but Lyssa fought anyway, terrified and miserable, and in agony. The shift had never come on her so quickly, not for years. She always had warning.
Let me out, whispered the dragon.
But even had she wanted to, she couldn’t have. What should have been magic and miracle was a nightmare. Out of her control. Raging through her body. Ripping her apart.
Only this time, she wasn’t alone.
Let me go! Lyssa wanted to scream, but her voice wouldn’t work, and no matter how hard she tried to push Eddie away, he held on. His arms were so strong. His voice, stronger.
She stopped hearing the words — but the meaning, the spirit inside them, poured into her — and she clung to the whisper of his voice, the throb of each syllable pounding with her heartbeat.
Each heartbeat broke her bones.
Each heartbeat made the fire grow inside her. A pure golden heat that started in her heart, then spread into her veins. Dragon fire, real fire. It shocked her, and she was afraid — until she remembered who was holding her. Eddie would not burn if she lost control.
She had already lost control, and he had survived. Survived, and stayed with her.
Lyssa, whispered Eddie, only this time his voice was within her mind, rolling through her with the fire. His presence filled her, strong and steady and calm.
But it was his compassion that cut through the pain. Lyssa clung with all her strength to that warm empathy, desperate for a taste. It had been so long since anyone had made her feel protected.
The struggle in her body eased. Pain faded.
Lyssa came back to herself, slowly, in increments that were little more than an easing of the tension in her chest. She knelt on the floor, with no idea how she had gotten there. The rugs were burning beneath her. Her clothes were on fire, turning to ash. Eddie crouched with her, also engulfed in flames — his arms tight around her body.