Mercy Burns (Myth and Magic 2)

I frowned at the weariness in his voice—the same weariness that was so evident in the set of his shoulders. “Are you going to have enough energy?”

His smile was warm. “Of course I will. It’s just that a certain insatiable woman kept me up most of last night and then wore me out this afternoon.”

I grinned. “I didn’t hear any protests at the time.”

“No sane man would have made such a protest.” Amusement crinkled the corners of his dark eyes. “And despite rumors to the contrary, I am sane.”

“Says the man who took off in dragon form in the middle of a suburban street,” I said, voice wry. “I’ve packed us a bag—but if you think you’ll need guns, we’ll have to grab those handguns you’ve got stashed in the car.”

“Good idea.” He finished his coffee in several gulps that must have scalded his tongue, then walked pas

t me and dumped the cup in the sink. “It’s going to be cold up there. I’d wrap up some more.”

“I can flame at night, remember, so I can keep myself warm.”

“But not dry. It’s raining.”

“It is?” I glanced at the darkened windows and saw that he was right. I’d been so caught up in worry that I hadn’t even noticed.

“And your flames aren’t going to do much to keep the rain off,” he said, amused, “so do me a favor and find yourself a coat.”

I rolled my eyes but did as he asked and headed back into the bedroom. It took a couple of minutes, but I finally found a coat that was thick and waterproof.

“I looked up Red Rock on the net while I was waiting,” I said, shoving the coat on as I walked back out. “The nearest town is a place called Elko—”

My words faded and a sick feeling invaded my stomach as I walked into an empty kitchen. Damon wasn’t there. I turned around and walked into the living room, but that was empty as well. In fact, I couldn’t feel the heat of him anywhere in the apartment.

“Damon?” I called, knowing he’d gone and yet not wanting to believe he could just walk out like that.

No answer came. Not that I expected one.

My gaze fell on a piece of paper sitting on the coffee table, and I walked over to pick it up.

Sorry, Mercy, but this is going to be dangerous, it said, and I just won’t risk you. Wait here for me. Please.

“Wait here indeed,” I muttered, screwing up the note and throwing it back down on the table in disgust.

Waiting wasn’t going to track down the man behind these killings.

Waiting wasn’t going to save Rainey’s soul.

And no damn please added to the end of the note was going to change either of those facts.

I grabbed the backpacks, slung them over my shoulder, and bolted for the door. When I hit the stairs, I ran down, not up. A dragon didn’t take long to shift shape and fly, so there was no point in going to the roof. My best bet now was the car. I wouldn’t get there in time to be of any help, but at least I’d get there. And I still had all the paperwork, so if Damon had totally abandoned me, at least I could continue my investigations.

I threw the backpacks into the car then jumped into the driver’s seat. The car started at the first turn of the key, and I reversed out with a squeal of tires.

Luckily, Damon had stolen a car with a navigation system. I typed in my destination and settled in for a long, fast drive.

Night still dominated the skyline by the time I neared my destination. Sunrise—and the power that came with it—was still a good few hours away. That was probably a good thing, because at least the dust being thrown up by the car on this godforsaken track wouldn’t be as noticeable. Had it been daylight, I might as well have waved a flag and said, “Come and get me.”

According to the navigation unit, Red Rock was less than two miles away. I slowed the car, glad that a long slope divided me from the little township. I didn’t dare drive any closer, simply because I had no idea who—or what—might be waiting for me there. And even if they couldn’t see the dust, the sound of the car’s engine would surely carry in the stillness.

Which meant, of course, that I had to walk the rest of the way. It might be only two miles, but after the long night of driving, I felt like hell. Not even the faint, buzzing promise of dawn could wipe the exhaustion from my system.

I pulled off the road and drove the car as far as possible into a group of scrawny-looking trees. They wouldn’t hide it from anyone driving by, but a dragon flying overhead might just miss it.

I opened the door and climbed out. The air swirled around me, warm and yet somehow stark. I reached back into the car and dragged out the backpacks, then squinted up through the scrubby branches of the trees and took a deep breath, trying to shake the cobwebs from my mind. I needed to be fully alert if I was to have any hope of getting through the next couple of hours.