Page 63 of Dragon’s Rogue

Hope that she had the Seal? Or hope that she was his destined mate?

Dream-memories tumbled through her mind again. The two of them standing on a balcony, her snuggled into the curve of his arm. Lying in a field of wildflowers, and him tucking some in her hair before kissing her gently.

That feeling of warmth spread through her chest once more. Was he putting those thoughts there? He held her gaze, everything he was feeling showing in his eyes. This wasn’t just about the Seal.

It was about the two of them.

“See?” Tyr was saying smugly. “They’re already falling in love.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Thorne said. “It’s not destiny. She doesn’t have the Seal. She doesn’t even have any friends. If she’s the Rogue, where’s the Rebel? And the Storm?”

Blaze tore her eyes away from Zane. “The Rogue, the Rebel and the Storm,” she whispered. “Oh my god.” She stared down at the tabletop, her mind racing. It couldn’t be true, but…

“Hey,” Tyr said, snapping his fingers. “You okay?”

“No.” Blaze turned to Zane. “Remember the other thief? The one that was at my house the first time you came?” She looked at Thorne. “The one you caught when she fell off the balcony tonight?”

Thorne looked away. “She’s definitely not one of the Three.”

Asshole dragon. “Really?” Blaze said sweetly. “She didn’t have dragon powers, so my tracking dust stuck to her. I hunted her down and spoke to her. Want to know what name she goes by?”

“No.”

“Rebel. Rebel Smith.”

Thorne froze. Then he shook his head. “That’s ridiculous,” he said. “It can’t be that literal.”

“You sure?” Blaze asked. “Because when I tracked her down, she was at her sister’s shop in St. Johns. A wannabe witch’s shop with crystals and tarot cards, and a whole crap-ton of…” She paused for emphasis.

“Dragons,” Tyr finished, before she got the chance. His face had gone pale. “It’s full of dragons.”

Thorne turned on him. “How the hell do you know that?”

“Because I’ve been to that store,” he said. “I’ve met her. She loves dragons. And her name is Tempest.”

His eyes grew unfocused, his voice soft. “Tempest. A wild storm.”

Chapter 29

After that Blaze started losing track of the discussion. Fatigue hit her like a sledgehammer, and she almost passed out.

Dimly, she felt Zane sweep her up in his arms and head for the elevator. She could hear Thorne and Tyr shouting at each other: Thorne yelling about going down to Portland and grabbing the women and making them give up the Seals; Tyr saying they couldn’t go storming into people’s houses in the middle of the night; Thorne saying if Rebel could break into people’s houses at night, she shouldn’t be upset when other people did it to her; Zane muttering, “I hope they don’t get so pissed off they flame the computers,” as the elevator doors closed behind them.

And then there was nothing but strong arms and spicy-scented dragon warmth and floating at the edge of sleepy darkness.

Glimpses of wood-paneled hallways, and then a carved door and a brocade-wallpapered bedroom and a big soft bed. Zane put her down and Blaze sank into it with a moan; she’d never expended as much unplanned magic as she had tonight, and she felt like she was wearing lead weights.

No bed had ever felt so good.

Her clothes seemed to disappear, and then she was under the blankets wearing something soft and silky and someone stroked back her hair, kissed her temple and said, “Sleep well.”

And there was deep, blissful, dreamless darkness. Until the nightmares began.

Silas was there, she knew it was Silas but his head was the idol’s. He whispered to her, saying horrible things, wanting her to do horrible things. She took a golden knife and cut out Zane’s heart, so there was a big black hole in his chest. Something was trying to come out of it, something black and deadly with slimy tentacles that burned more holes in anyone who came near—Thorne and Rebel and Jean-Claude and Tyr and Tempest, and then her parents came but they had black holes for eyes and she stabbed them and stabbed them but only black fog came out of the wounds…

She tried to scream but she could hardly make a sound, and she couldn’t get away and there was more and more black fog and the slimy tentacles were reaching into her chest and trying to tear out her heart too…

And then she felt something heavy and metallic around her neck, resting on her chest. It felt warm, and it hummed with a happy vibration she could feel inside her, like a favorite song she had known forever.