Excerpt of Kiss Of Fury by Deborah Cooke

Prologue

August 28, 2007

Erik Sorensson was tired, but then the ritual with the Dragon’s Egg always exhausted him. He and the other members of the high circle of Pyr had met in Samoa earlier in the day. Beneath the full lunar eclipse, they had received the portent that the next firestorm would occur in Minneapolis.

Would it be his? Erik thought not.

He hoped not.

He’d worry about the details later. For the moment, he just wanted to sleep in the solitude of his lair. He replaced the Dragon’s Egg in the most secure area of his hoard and yawned mightily.

“It is more than the journey that fatigues you,” said a woman in close proximity.

Erik jumped and pivoted.

Sophie waved her fingertips at him. “Surprise.”

She lounged on one of his pair of black couches, looking as ethereal as ever. Her fair hair fell loose over her shoulders and she was dressed in a dress made of sheer layers in silvers and greys. Her eyes were as brilliantly turquoise as ever.

She could have been a stray beam of moonlight.

Erik checked, but his protective smoke was still thick around the perimeter of his lair, still undisturbed. It resonated with the clear ring of an unbroken territory mark.

“How did you get in here?”

“I am the Wyvern,” she said without interest. “I know many tricks, both magical and mundane.” She glanced around his home, which was in a converted warehouse. The old hardwood floors gleamed and the furnishings were both modern and few. The ceilings were high and light was filtered through the glass blocks that had been used for windows. “Nice lair. I like the smell of brimstone. It’s a fitting touch.”

Erik strode across the floor to check his locks. He knew his tone was irritable and he didn’t care. He didn’t like surprise guests. “It’s not brimstone. It’s sulphur. I store the pyrotechnics in the back room.” The locks were just as he had left them. He faced Sophie without troubling to hide his irritation.

She held his gaze. “Aren’t you going to ask why I’ve disturbed your solitude?”

“You’re the prophetess. You tell me.”

“I’m not the only one with the gift of foresight.”

Erik chose to ignore her implication. He muttered something uncomplimentary under his breath and Sophie smiled as he perched on the couch opposite her. He might as well hear what she had to say, as enigmatic as it was likely to be. “All right. Tell me why you’ve come.”

She straightened, flicking her blond hair over her shoulder. “Surely you can guess.”

“Maybe I don’t want to. I’m tired, Sophie, and need some sleep.”

She shook her head, her gaze knowing. “Sleep isn’t going to fix what ails you.”

“Why did you come?”

“I had a portent to deliver, of course.”

“The next firestorm will be in Minneapolis,” Erik said, sharing what they had learned at the ritual even though he expected that Sophie already knew as much. The firestorm was the mating sign of the Pyr, the sign that a Pyr had met the mortal mate who could bear his child. A firestorm could happen at any time in any place, but those of critical importance to the Pyr were signalled by total lunar eclipses. “Do you know whose firestorm it will be?”

Sophie closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the couch. Her long hair spread across the dark fabric like a veil, so fair that it was almost white. Erik remembered the sight of snow on coal, felt a pang for the past, then her chanted words brought him back to the present.

“The Dragon’s Tail demands compense Owed the land for man’s violence; Both human and Pyr must sacrifice, To earn the chance to make matters right. A portal has opened to the past Making possible what has been lost; Time to muster forces for the final battle, In which Pyr and Slayer learn their mettle."

“That sounds like a warning,” Erik said when she fell silent.

She opened her eyes and smiled sweetly at him. “It is.”

Erik felt a surge of frustration, one he often felt in Sophie’s presence. “I know that there will be three total lunar eclipses, which follow the change of the moon’s node to the Dragon’s Tail. And we’ve known for centuries that a total lunar eclipse is the mark of a firestorm of particular import to the Pyr, like that of the Smith indicated by the last one.”

Sophie continued to smile.

“So, this one, this firestorm that will occur in Minneapolis, must also be important. But how? The Smith is already mated and Sara carries his child. What is significant about the next firestorm, or the Pyr who will experience it?”

“Three total eclipses in rapid succession,” Sophie mused, staring at her own three fingers. “Three Pyr of critical importance who will feel the firestorm.” She looked at Erik. “Three firestorms that must succeed, if the Pyr are to survive for the pending battle.”

“We must ensure them all or lose the war before it begins?” Erik was incredulous, but Sophie was serene. “Can’t you tell me any more than that?”

“I brought you the prophecy.”

“But it tells me nothing!”

“On the contrary, it tells you everything you need to know.”

Before Erik could argue, Sophie unfolded herself from the couch and drifted across the room. She seemed to float, to not be bound by gravity. She disappeared into Erik’s hoard and he forced himself to hold his ground.

They were on the same team, after all. He should trust her.

She returned with the Dragon’s Egg, much to his astonishment. He was offended to see anyone else handling it, as its burden was his responsibility. “I just put that away...”

She halted before Erik with the obsidian orb cradled in her hands. “Look,” was all she said.

Erik looked.

The Dragon’s Egg gleamed. Erik heard Sophie sing to the dark stone. Her tune began low and soft, then gained in power. He couldn’t hear the words, couldn’t anticipate the rhythm, but he knew he was hearing an ancient charm. The surface of the stone seemed to swirl, as if it was covered with clouds in shades of grey.

Storm clouds.

He’d never seen the Dragon’s Egg respond to anything other than the light of a total eclipse. He stared and marvelled.

Sophie’s song grew louder and the clouds became darker, ever darker. They churned and boiled on the surface, until abruptly they cleared.

Erik was looking into a dark mirror, one as clear as glass. It reminded him of deep water and he wanted to recoil, but he forced himself to keep looking. His own past was not important, not now.

Sophie leaned over the stone, her brow almost touching his. “Tell me what you see,” she urged in a whisper.

“An office,” he said, watching with excitement as the shapes became clear. It was as if a fog was being cleared from his vision. How had she done this? Could he learn her feat? “At night. There’s somebody there, working on a computer. I see the screen but no other lights are on.”

He glanced up in confusion.

“Yes. Look deeper.”

Erik did more than look. He used all of his keen Pyr senses and felt the scene. He became a part of it. He was there, in the moment, experiencing the events. He saw shadows separate from the walls, heard the snick of an alarm wire being cut. He sensed a threat sliding into the quiet building and was aware that he shared someone’s viewpoint, as if he looked through the eyes of another.

But who?

“There are others, breaking in,” he murmured. “They don’t know there’s anyone there.”

“Don’t they?” Sophie said quietly.

Erik felt a heart race and knew the person who watched events unfold was afraid. “When will this happen?”

Sophie’s tone was resolute. “Look.”

Erik knew the crime had to somehow be important to him and the Pyr. He looked. He saw chairs being flung and desks overturned. Files were dumped and computers were thrown at walls. “They’re destroying the place. Where is it?”

Sophie didn’t answer.

Erik fell silent when he saw the dragonfire erupt, its orange flames devouring the carpet, cubicles, files and walls. Its hue and power were unmistakable. He watched more closely, knowing what he would see.

His heart sank all the same when he spied the silhouettes of his own kind in the flames.

He felt the viewer’s palms grow damp with terror. He heard the scream of a human being injured and the viewer catch his or her breath. He heard malicious laughter and knew what he was witnessing.

The old battle had moved to new ground.

“Slayers,” he said to Sophie, hearing his own hatred in his voice. “Why this place? What are they trying to destroy? Who are they hurting?”

Sophie blew on the Dragon’s Egg. The flames in its surface burned brighter, then disappeared, as if she had extinguished them.

The Dragon’s Egg was so black that it might never have been otherwise.

“When will this happen? Where?” Erik demanded, his frustration rising when Sophie didn’t reply. “Can it prevented? Can the victim be saved? Why are they injuring a human?”

Sophie bent and kissed the stone with reverence, and Erik had the sense that she was thanking it for its aid.

Then she glanced up at him, her eyes clear and bright. Their remarkable azure hue still startled him. “We cannot save humans on our own. They must make reparation themselves for the injury they have done to Gaia: they must initiate change within their own society. Then and only then can we fight for their survival.”

“These humans were targeted by Slayers because they took that initiative,” Erik guessed. Sophie’s smile was fleeting, but he knew by the glimpse of it that he was right.

“You have seen through the eyes of the Wizard.”

Erik caught his breath at her assertion. “The Wizard and the Warrior. It was once said that together they could build an army and lead it to victory.”

Sophie smiled again.

“But that’s just an old story, Sophie, a myth that has no root in truth...”

“A myth?” she interrupted him with a laugh. “And you are not a myth come to life?”

Erik was impatient with this. “There’s never been a Wizard, not that I know of...”

Sophie spoke as if he hadn’t. “Alex Madison will survive this attack,” she said with force, then met his gaze. Her words silenced Erik’s protestations.

“Alex Madison is the one who was working there, the one who was afraid,” Erik guessed, but he knew the answer already. He was shocked that he knew the name of the woman who would experience this firestorm - Sophie had never been so forthcoming. Were their prospects that grim? A cold shiver of dread slid down his spine. “And she’s the Wizard.”

Sophie’s smile was fleeting, leaving him hungry for more.

“What’s the name of the business? Where is it? What do they do there? When will this happen? Or has it happened already?”

Sophie only turned away, carrying the Dragon’s Egg back to his hoard. Erik waited for her to return, irritated with her many mysteries, his thoughts swirling with what she had told him.

If Alex Madison was the Wizard, then she was the one who had taken the initiative that would save humans from the repercussions of their own deeds. And if the old legend was true, she would mate with the Warrior. Donovan. The Warrior had to be Donovan, the Pyr’s greatest fighting machine - and the Pyr most reluctant to make a commitment of any kind. Erik winced and shoved a hand through his hair.

He decided that he hated portents and prophecies.

Erik paced as he waited, his impatience rising with every moment.

Sophie didn’t come back.

Erik finally pursued her into the hidden warren of his hoard. The Dragon’s Egg was precisely where it belonged, nestled in its black velvet sack. The doors to his lair were still barred and locked. His smoke was still undisturbed.

But Sophie was gone.

Erik was alone in his lair once more. He swore, returned to the main room and booted up his laptop.

Fortunately, the Wyvern wasn’t his only source of information.