Daughter Of The Dragon Princess(20)

"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."