Mercy Burns (Myth and Magic 2)

At least it was still dark. Dawn might energize me, but it would also expose me. There weren’t many places to hide out here. Besides, the warmth still hanging in the air suggested the coming day would probably be a scorcher, and while I might be draman—and therefore totally at home in heat—the human half of my soul insured I wasn’t immune to the effects of sunburn. And a plain brown dragon with sunburn was never a good look. I knew that from experience.

Memories of the fun Rainey and I used to have at the beach as teenagers brought a smile to my lips, but it also sharpened the need to do right by her, to give her the future she so richly deserved. I closed the car door, pocketed the keys, and headed out through the trees. Once free of them, I pushed into a jog. Little clouds of dirt plumed around my shoes with every step, but I would have felt too exposed had I been running on the road.

I was puffing by the time I neared the top of the hill. I slowed to a walk and kept my head below the ridge-line until I found another strand of trees. Only then did I step out to see what waited in the valley below.

Red Rock was nothing but a small cluster of buildings, and looked more like a large ranch than an actual town. And maybe it was. None of the buildings were burned and I couldn’t see any bodies, but that didn’t mean we’d been successful in saving this place or the people in it. And I wasn’t about to trust the fact that it all looked deserted. For all I knew, the men behind this mad scheme were still down there, patiently waiting for an unwary draman to waltz right into their trap.

Something I was desperate to avoid.

As I stood there staring at the town, a frisson of awareness shot through me, and my silly heart rejoiced.

Damon was here.

The thought had me smiling, but the smile—and the stupid internal reaction—faded quickly into concern. Just because I sensed him didn’t mean that I could find him. And it certainly didn’t mean he was free. These men had caught him once before, and even Death could be overwhelmed by the sheer weight of numbers.

I shifted my weight from one foot to the other and as I did so, another sensation swept over me.

I was no longer alone on this hillside.

And it wasn’t Damon who approached so stealthily.

My stomach dropped and a sick sensation rose up my throat. I swallowed hard, concentrating on the approach of the stranger, my grip on the straps of the backpacks so hard my knuckles glowed white. The thick, musky heat of him got closer and closer, until his scent stained every breath and my muscles were trembling with the need to move, to react.

But I didn’t, knowing I’d have only one chance at this.

The hairs on the back of my neck rose and my skin burned with the awareness of danger. Just as it felt like his thick fingers were going to descend on my shoulder, I swung around, ripping a backpack away from my shoulder and swinging it at the stranger as hard as I could.

He ducked, but not fast enough, and the pack caught him on the shoulder and sent him staggering. I had a brief glimpse of blond hair and a hawklike nose, then I dropped and swept with my leg, hitting the back of his knees hard and knocking him off his feet. He landed with a grunt that sounded more like a curse and tried to regroup and scramble to his feet, but I came at him fast, following with a punch to the face that flattened his nose and had him unconscious in an instant.

For several seconds, I stayed low, my body trembling as I listened to the faint breeze, trying to discover whether there were any other draman trying to sneak up on me.

But the night was free of any unusual noises, and the breeze was free from the taint of others.

Which didn’t mean they weren’t out there.

My gaze returned to the man at my feet. He was a big, rough-looking man, and more like the muscle than the brains. Besides, his face didn’t look familiar, and if the man I’d heard talking to Angus—the man whose voice reminded me of Seth—was the leader, then surely I would recognize him.

The stranger had one of those small speaker microphones clipped around his ear, the talk switch clipped to the lapel of his jacket. Had he reported my presence? Surely not. The stillness of the night would carry sound too well, and I would have heard him speaking. Although I hadn’t heard him creeping up on me until it was almost too late.

But then, some draman could move with the stealth of dragons.

I ripped off the mike to insure he couldn’t use it, then searched through his pockets until I found a wallet. His name was Ralph Jenkins and, according to his license, he lived in Las Vegas. Given the extent of this operation, that might or might not be true. Further inspection revealed several credit cards—all in different names—and a large amount of cash. Payment for destroying a town, perhaps?

I shoved everything back into his pocket then rose and took off his jacket, tearing it into long strips with which I tied his hands and feet. To make doubly sure he couldn’t escape, I took off his shoes and socks, then grabbed his shoelaces and tied the ends to form a long string. I roped his thumbs together then ran the laces around his neck. It might not be as deadly as Damon’s garrotes, but it wouldn’t be comfortable, either.

With the stranger trussed as securely as possible, I touched his face and reached for his flame, sucking in the heat of him. It swirled through my body—a delicious burn of energy that replaced the reserves drained by the long night of driving. But unlike Damon, I left embers behind. I didn’t have the skill—or the desire—to completely annihilate what nature had given him.

The stranger began to stir, his feet twitching against the ropes. I grabbed him under the armpits and, with a grunt of effort, dragged him into the shade. It wouldn’t stop him from energizing himself once dawn arrived, but hopefully I’d have my answers and be out of reach by then.

But first, I had to find out who waited below.

I stood back and toed his thigh. He jerked in reaction, then his eyes snapped open and his face contorted in an odd mix of anger and pain. His gaze briefly roamed the trees then fixed on me.

“Scream and I’ll fry you.” My voice was flat and my fingers glowed in warning.

“Who the fuck are you?” he spat, his voice a growl of low fury.

“A question I was going to ask you,” I replied, “because I don’t for one minute trust the