Page 53 of Dragon’s Rebel

She remembered what the dragon had told her.

She doubted that. She had too many holes and empty places in her heart—there was no way she could make anybody whole.

But maybe she could make Thorne less lonely.

She leaned over and kissed his forehead, and he reached out in his sleep and took her hand. Rebel lay down next to him, her head on his shoulder, and this time the hoard shifted underneath her, softening and molding itself to her body.

Maybe lying on a bed of gold wasn’t too uncomfortable after all. Suddenly the song of the gold seemed soothing, welcoming, and she drifted off into sleep.

She was awakened by Tyr’s voice. “Thorne? Are you okay? You’ve been asleep for hours. I know how pissy you are about your hoard privacy, but I’m coming in.”

The door creaked open and Tyr poked his head through the crack, a bluish magical shield undulating around it like a depressed soap bubble. She assumed that was in case Thorne woke up suddenly and decided to flame him for invading his lair.

Tyr’s eyes went wide when he saw the two of them. “Holy fuck. He’s human. It worked!”

Rebel sat up and rubbed her eyes. “Shh,” she hissed at Tyr. “Don’t wake him up. He’s exhausted.”

“Too late,” Thorne said without opening his eyes. “I’m awake. How many thousand times have I told you not to come busting into my lair without knocking? In fact, how many times have I told you not to come in here at all?”

Tyr counted on his fingers. “Approximately once a week, fifty-two weeks, ten years and three months… only about five hundred and forty times. It just seems like more.”

“It always does, with you.”

Tyr, grinning, scooped up a handful of gold and sprinkled it down on Thorne. “You should thank me. I sensed you sleeping down here for forever—which you never do—and you wouldn’t answer when I called. I was afraid you’d done something stupid like take the serum when I wasn’t around.”

“Which he did,” Rebel said.

“See? And I was afraid you were lying here in a coma. Admit it, if you were lying here in a coma, you’d want me around.”

Thorne was still lying with his eyes closed. “They say you can still hear the people around you when you’re in a coma. So, not really.”

Tyr mouthed to Rebel, Is he okay?

Rebel made a so-so motion with her hand, mouthing I think so. She murmured, “It was close, though.”

Thorne said irritably, “I’m fine.”

“He sounds okay,” Tyr said. Then he mouthed, His dragon? He mimed flapping wings, presumably in case her lip-reading sucked.

She shook her head fractionally.

“Shit,” Tyr whispered softly.

Yeah.

“I’m hungry,” Thorne announced. “And I need to get to the control room. Because I’m sure you idiots have accomplished nothing today.”

“Au contraire,” Tyr said. “Your minions have been working their talons to the bone while you’ve been napping. Zane and Blaze picked out a nice mid-priced artifact as a gift for Jean-Claude D’Amboise, to entice him into seeing things our way as far as Corwyn is concerned. They’ve also called him and made an appointment.”

Thorne sat up. “For today?” he asked.

“Um, no. First, because it’s technically tomorrow. If this shit keeps up, pretty soon we’re all going to be nocturnal, like vampires. And also, because he’s being cagey and annoying, making them wait. He won’t see them until Thursday evening.”

Two days away. And hell only knew what Corwyn would be getting up to in that time. “Dammit,” Thorne said. “I need to find that fucking sorcerer and put him out of his misery.”

“You and me both,” Rebel said. “He almost killed my sister.”

“Who is my mate,” Tyr added. “Back of the line, bro.”

“Any other leads?”

Tyr glanced at Rebel. “Actually, yes,” he said. “Come on down to the Batcave. We’ll order up a side of beef or something, and then I’ll tell you what we’re doing.”