"Won't that be dangerous?"
"I doubt any of the others will show up. Their leader is dead-their power depleted. They'll lay low for a while. And we need somewhere to get Cole sorted."
Nodding, she relaxed back in her seat as he turned the car around and headed back the way they had come.
She closed her eyes. Behind her lids, the flickering flames of Ankesh played, and in her mind, she recalled the almost irresistible urge to commit herself to those flames, to feel the kiss of the fire against her flesh.
To discover what was on the other side.
Chapter 12
Weyland's house stood in darkness and appeared deserted-so far, so good.
Lily scrambled out and came around to help Mal with Cole. The detective was still unconscious, his face pale with a splash of crimson staining his lips.
"Will he be all right?" she asked. "Maybe we should take him to a hospital. Get him some proper treatment. He might need surgery. We can't do anything like that here."
She was babbling, but the sight of so much blood was doing weird things to her insides.
"I'll treat him," Mal said. "I know what has to be done."
Was there anything dragons couldn't do? But she kept quiet as he carried Cole into the house, down the hallway, and into a small sitting room. After laying him on the sofa, he unbuttoned the shirt. Lily gasped-Cole's whole chest was a mass of scarlet gore. Her gaze flashed to Mal's face, but his expression was blank.
"Can you find me some water?" he asked.
Lily nodded, glad to have something to do. Back out in the hallway, she tried each of the doors. The first one was the study she'd been in earlier. She was tugging the door shut when she spotted her jeans lying over the back of the sofa-Weyland must have stripped her in here-the fucking pervert. As she picked them up, she saw the body lying on the floor, behind the sofa. Joe. How could she have forgotten him? She owed her life to him, and now she'd caused his death. Inadvertently maybe, but she had no doubts it was down to her. She grabbed her jeans, pulled them on and backed out of the room.
One more death to avenge. But Weyland was beyond her vengeance. He was already dead, torched in the stone circle. At least the bastard had died screaming.
The kitchen was at the end of the hall, and she filled a bowl with water, then searched in the cupboards until she came across a pile of clean towels. She grabbed a couple and hurried back.
Mal took them from her and hunkered down by the sofa. He soaked one of the towels and started to wipe away the blood. There were two bullet wounds, one in the shoulder and one lower down.
She hovered, shifting from foot to foot. "How is he?"
"The shoulder wound is no problem, the bullet went right through. The chest one is a little worse. I'll have to get the bullet out before I can heal him."
"Heal him? How are you going to do that? He needs a hospital."
Mal glanced up and smiled. "Have a little faith, Lily. I thought you were ready to believe."
Yeah, but believe what? She kept her mouth shut.
Mal drew a knife from the sheath on his belt. He held up his left hand, blue-black flames flickered from his fingertips and he passed the blade through the fire. Lily clamped her eyes shut as he probed the wound in Cole's chest. At least the detective didn't regain consciousness, though he twitched and moaned as the knife entered.
"Got it," Mal murmured.
She swallowed and took a peek. He held the bullet in his hand between his finger and thumb. The wound in Cole's chest filled with fresh blood, spilling down over his skin. Lily's nostrils clogged with the metallic scent, the coppery taste on her tongue. Cole had lost so much-how could he survive? They should have risked it and taken him to the ER.
Was it too late?
But Mal lifted the knife again, this time gripped in his left hand. He ran the blade across his own wrist, slicing a shallow line. Blood welled up in the cut and he raised his arm above Cole so the blood dripped into the wounds in his chest. He shifted his attention to Cole's mouth. Forcing the detective's lips apart with the thumb and finger of his right hand, he held his cut wrist above the open mouth. Cole swallowed involuntarily.
Mal sat back on his heels, holding one of the towels to his wrist as Cole's eyes flickered open.
"I think I've died and gone to hell," he muttered.
Mal smiled. "Not yet, but it could be arranged."
"What happened?"
"You got shot, we rescued you, and we're at a safe house."
"Lily? Is she all right?"
"I'm here," Lily said, coming to stand beside Mal.
Cole gave a curve of his lips, then winced. "Well, you're still alive, so mission accomplished I guess." He paused. "So, I've been shot. Why aren't I in hospital?"
"You don't need a hospital," Mal replied.
"Mal treated you," Lily added.
Cole eyed them both suspiciously. "Is that supposed to make me feel better?" He rolled his shoulders, gave a little frown. Lily leaned closer and peered at the wounds. They seemed to be closing. Impossible. She turned to Mal.
"Dragon's blood," he murmured, too low for Cole to hear.
"You know," Cole said, frowning. "I actually feel pretty good. Have you given me some sort of drug? To make my last moments better?"
"Something like that, but it's not your last moments. I'm afraid you're going to live. But you do need sleep. I'm going to carry you up to one of the bedrooms. Lily, will you go ahead and find somewhere?"
Lily led them out into the hallway, up the wide staircase. The first door she opened was a bathroom. She made a note of it; her next move was definitely going to be a shower. The room next door was a bedroom, probably a guest room by the lack of clutter.
"In here," she called out. Mal followed her in, carrying Cole. Lily stripped back the blankets, and he laid the detective down. She bent over him, removed his shoes, and pulled up the sheet.
On impulse, she leaned over and kissed Cole on the cheek. "Thank you for coming," she whispered.
He smiled. "No problem. All in a day's work for us coppers."
"Now," Mal said. "Sleep."
Cole's eyes drifted shut, and a moment later, he slept.
"Is he going to be okay?" Lily asked as they shut the door behind them.
"More than okay. Dragon's blood is potent stuff to humans. Our Detective Cole is going to find himself a changed man in future."
"What sort of changes?"
"Stronger, faster, he'll heal quicker. He'll also age slower, and find his life span considerably longer. But there's also another side effect, one which I'm sure Cole will not be pleased about, if he ever discovers it."
"And that is?"
Mal smiled. "He has to do what I tell him."
"What?"
"Why do you think he fell asleep so fast? There's a compulsion spell attached. The taker of dragon blood must do as the dragon bids."
"Forever?"
"Oh, it will fade, given a few decades. I'm just going to have to resist the urge to tell Cole what to do, and perhaps he might not notice. Now … "
He stared down at her through eyes glinting with ruby lights. Cupping her face in his large hands, he searched her features. Then he lowered his head and kissed her. She didn't resist as he dragged her close against his hard body. Immediately, she sensed a change in him. He'd always radiated a sort of power, but now it was intensified a thousand fold, until she could feel it like a tangible force, an electric pulse that beat against her.
And he was hot, so hot that she burrowed herself against his broad chest, hid her face in the curve of his neck. She breathed in the wonderful musky scent of him, and let his heat sear away the cold that clung to her.
His burning hands slipped beneath the shirt and he stroked her skin, the curve of her waist, pulling her harder against him. He no longer felt comforting. A thrill of excitement shivered through her as one large hand slid up over her belly to palm her breast, and the heat of desire melted the last of the ice inside her. He rubbed the pad of his thumb over her nipple and flames sizzled along her nerve endings. She shifted against him, so the hardness of his erection nudged against her hip, sending another wave of heat washing over her, and she gave herself up to the feeling.
She moaned and he went still against her. Pressing her face against his shoulder, she listened to the thud of his heart, to each shallow breath he took. His grip tightened on her for a second, then he sighed, and pulled away.
"Later." His word was a promise. "Now, I'm going to set up a ward around the perimeter, to let us know if anybody gets close. Then I have to bury your friend."
Joe. She bit her lip at the thought of Joe in the ground.
"Why don't you rest for a while?" he said.
"Maybe I'll try. And thanks again for coming for me. I know you'll say it was your duty, but right now, I don't give a shit about the whys. I'm just grateful to be alive." Placing her hand on his shoulder, she pulled herself up and brushed her mouth over his, then stepped back. "Before I rest, I'm going to have a shower, and then I'm going to find some coffee. And after that, if you want to tell me what's going on, I think I am ready to believe. Anything."