Harmonia's Kiss Read Online Free

were concrete buildings at every corner. The human enemies they had marched off to fight were not just gone, but forgotten.
    The truth of it utterly destroyed Drake’s own morale. He could not lead his men onward in good conscience. There was no future. Life had no meaning for them. The only experience before them was death.
    Drake ordered another round of drinks. To what other purpose would he use the coins in his pocket? There was no point in battle, no point in love, no point in life.
    Not anymore.
    It seemed like yesterday that he had seen Cassandra meet an invading army at the town’s gate, her feet bare and her hair unfurled. That hadn’t been a hundred feet from this very spot. She’d been armed only with her defiance and her wits, with her sense of injustice. He had lost his heart with one glance.
    He had felt the simmer of the firestorm’s burn that day, and had known she was his destined mate even before he knew the color of her eyes. He would have loved her even without the firestorm’s heat. It wasn’t impressive for a man with an army at his back to be confident. It had awed him as a warrior to see Cassandra, though, so sure of her own power that she had been unafraid.
    She had been a marvel.
    And the memory of her passion and her love, the recollection of her kiss and the sweet hope of reunion, had driven him on and on.
    But she was gone.
    Dust.
    Drake would never see her again. Her smile, her laugh, her bravado, all gone forever. His son, too, lived only in his own memory.
    Had they believed that he had deserted them? There had been no one to send word of the enchanted company, no human who had known their fate. The prospect sickened Drake, made him drain his glass.
    He felt the tingle of a distant firestorm but could not summon the interest in defending it. Let the new Pyr have their firestorms. Let the new Pyr fight for justice and truth and survival of the earth herself.
    He wanted only to die.
    This place would suit well enough.
    Drake and his men sat in silence and drank red wine in a café in the sun. Drake didn’t care what happened to them next and his men shared his view. He was a leader without direction, a leader of men who were rudderless, and he didn’t care about that either. The wine’s tart taste was just another reminder of the past.
    He was barely aware of the young boy who came into the café, scanned the men, and headed directly for him.
    â€œDo you know my father?” the boy demanded, his words startling Drake. He would have been six or seven years old, this earnest boy, with his dark hair and dark eyes.
    Just like Theo.
    Drake’s throat tightened.
    â€œDo you?” he demanded again, just as Theo would have done. Cassandra’s persistence had found expression in their son.
    Drake would have liked to have ignored the child, to have gone back to his drinking, but he couldn’t do it. He was too full of the awareness of what he’d lost and this child was too similar to his own son.
    He put down his glass. “Who is your father?”
    The boy recited the name and rank of a serviceman, his pride in his father more than clear.
    Drake shook his head. “I do not know him.”
    The boy studied him for a long moment, looking so intently into his face that the commander wondered what he saw. Then he pulled out the chair beside Drake, inviting himself to the table. He pointed to the glass. “What is that?”
    â€œIt is wine. You should not drink of it.” It was easy to speak to the boy as he had once spoken to his own son, albeit in a different language and a place that was centuries away.
    The boy picked up the glass and sniffed it, then wrinkled his nose. “I don’t want any.” He pushed it away from both of them. Then he turned that sharp gaze on his older companion again. “Do you know who killed my father then?”
    Drake was startled. “Are you certain that he was