Rhys watched in astonishment as the portal opened in the wall of the bar called Bones. What he saw made no sense at all: never mind that the Pyr were in the company of vampires and a werewolf with attitude who wanted to make an alliance. Kristofer’s firestorm had ignited, his mate had vanished through a solid brick wall, then Kade had drawn a doorway on the wall and it had opened.
He wasn’t nearly drunk enough to be imagining things.
In fact, Rhys didn’t think it was possible to be drunk enough to have hallucinations like this. It must really be happening. There didn’t seem to be anything beyond the door that had opened in the wall, just darkness and the glow of Kristofer’s firestorm.
Kristofer was already heading for the doorway, a flame dancing on his fingertip. It was a beacon, leading him to his destined mate, and Rhys knew Kristofer would feel compelled to follow it.
Rhys would have hesitated and asked questions: he was the skeptic of the group of friends. Kristofer was the believer—but Rhys would have Kristofer’s back. Rhys wouldn’t have gone through that door voluntarily for himself, but he’d go without hesitation in support of a friend.
Alasdair had stepped back with caution, while Hadrian, also in his dragon form, was crossing the threshold right behind Kristofer. Kade was staring down at the stylus he’d used to make the doorway, as if he was astonished by its powers, too. Rhys heard Theo shout a warning in old-speak, but he had to stay with Kristofer.
There was no telling what they’d find on the other side.
He’d already shifted and was glad to be in his dragon form. His senses were keener and he thought he could smell danger. An icy shiver slipped over him as he crossed the threshold. Rhys spread his wings, sensing that the ground fell away beneath him and took flight. There was no sign of either Kristofer or Hadrian and he turned in the air when he realized he couldn’t even see the light of the firestorm anymore. He looked back toward the door and the bar.
There was no door.
He was surrounded by darkness and all alone.
Rhys didn’t panic. That was how others made mistakes. He calmly flew onward, pretty sure of his direction. It only made sense that he’d catch up to his companions. Kristofer must have raced on ahead to meet his mate, and Rhys already knew that Kristofer flew faster than he did.
To his relief, in half a dozen beats of his wings, something glimmered ahead. The firestorm! Rhys swooped low, hoping he arrived in time to help Kristofer, only to discover that he’d seen light reflected on the sea.
What sea?
He should be in the building adjacent to the bar, Bones, in Manhattan. It should be the basement of a warehouse, or another bar, or a tunnel—not an ocean. Despite his conviction, water spread to the horizon in every direction, lit by a glow.
What was going on?
Rhys flew in a wide circle, unable to explain his situation. He remained beyond the glow of light, distrusting it. He swooped down to dip his toes in the water, but nothing changed. The sea was silvery blue and calm, with just a slight undulation of waves. There were small islands in the distance and the crescent of a rocky beach on the closest one.
And that glow. It was golden, not like moonlight at all.
It was more like a firestorm’s light. From this distance, it was just a golden light, one that didn’t illuminate anything specific.
Rhys barely discerned a splash, coming from the direction of the glow. The sound was faint, even with his keen Pyr hearing, and he guessed that someone hadn’t wanted to make a sound. It had to be Kristofer’s firestorm. He sped toward the light silently, flying close to the water to avoid detection. The light dipped beneath the waves and dimmed. Rhys spotted a dark silhouette surrounded by a golden glow in the water. Whatever it was went deeper and the light faded.
Rhys dove into the sea in pursuit, expecting to find his friends.
To his astonishment, a spark lit at the end of his own talon. It glowed orange, radiant even in the water, which only gave him more questions. The flame sent a heat through him that couldn’t be denied, heating him as well as filling him with desire.
But this was supposed to be Kristofer’s firestorm.
Was his own destined mate nearby? That would be a coincidence beyond belief.