Page 19 of Balthazar's Fire

“Balthazar.” She could hardly hear herself over the noise of her hammering heart. “Don’t joke around. I think you know how shocking I found Oliver’s transformation. He frightened me half to death!”

“I have an idea how much he terrified you, yes.” Lowering her hand to his lap, he never broke eye contact. “Which is one of the reasons why I’d never joke about something so serious.”

“You mean…?” Staring into his huge brown eyes, her brow creased. “You’re being genuine.”

“Completely.”

“But how?” she demanded, freeing her hand from his. “I didn’t even think shape-shifting was possible until last night, and now you’re telling me it’s something you can do, too.” Her tone rang with disbelief.

“I was born with the ability,” he told her, watching her palms as they fell to her lap. “I’ve been shifting since I was a boy.”

“Balthazar.” His name was scarcely even a whisper as she struggled to catch her breath. “Are you saying that you turn into a thing like him?”

“No.” He shook his head. “Not like Monroe. He’s a chimera, an ancient beast that I didn’t even know existed until last night.”

“It’s huge and ugly.” She shuddered at the unwelcome memory.

“Yes,” Balthazar agreed, meeting her gaze.

“I can’t believe I’m asking this.” She shook her head, unsure if she was on the verge of tears or laughter. “But, if you’re not like him, then what do you morph into?”

“Something equally as powerful.” There was no arrogance in his tone. “But hopefully nothing so grotesque.”

“Go on.”

Cherie couldn’t wrap her head around any of the conversation. She was struggling to believe that the man who’d played her hero was truly some sort of salivating monster, but she couldn’t understand why Balthazar would lie to her—especially about something as preposterous as changing into a beast. What did he have to gain from such an incredible untruth? Surely, she would discover the lie and confront him? He seemed to have too much integrity for something so base and ridiculous. Plus, she had seen Oliver’s transformation with her own eyes, and though she had tried to convince herself it was only an invention of her petrified mind, she knew that wasn’t true. The two-headed beast had been real.

“A dragon.” He straightened with the admission, reaching down for both of their glasses and passing Cherie hers. “Here.”

“A dragon?” she parroted, certain that she must have heard him incorrectly as he pressed the glass into her open hand. Wrapping her fingers around the glass, she met his eyes.

“Yes.” Lifting his glass to his lips, he sipped at the wine, watching her from over the rim.

Balthazar’s a dragon.

The words ricocheted around her head, repeating themselves as if the more she heard it, the more sense they would make, but they didn’t. None of this made sense. Ever since Balthazar had bowled into the office, nothing had ever been the same.

“What color?” She didn’t know why she asked, but she had to say something and none of the other questions flitting around her head seemed even vaguely intelligible.

“What?” Lowering his glass, he laughed.

“What color dragon are you?”

Now, there was a question she never thought she’d ask. Gripping her wine glass tighter, she waited for his answer.

“Purple,” he answered with a grin. “I’m violet with the faintest hint of blue.”

“Wow.” She had no idea what the correct response to that was. The man who was not only turning her head, but who had swooped in to save her, could mutate into a dragon. Her head ached with the possibility. “That sounds beautiful.”

Of course, it was. Look at Balthazar—nothing he morphed into could be ugly.

“Are you okay?” Leaning closer, his gaze drilled into her. “You’re taking this remarkably well.”

Am I?

“I…” Peering down at her wine, she stumbled over her words. “I don’t know what to say, Balthazar.”

“I know how you feel.” His lips twitched. “Looking at you in that robe is rather taking my breath away.”