Lord of Chaos (The Dragon Demigods Book 7)

by Charlene Hartnady

  I sigh. “I’m not a serial killer.” I could be one. Easily! “I’m not planning on killing you.” Accidents happen! I mean, I do fuck with a dagger strapped to my ankle.

  “Not planning on it?” She laughs some more. She waits. I think she wants me to tell her that I don’t plan on hurting her either. All bets are off on that note. I won’t make promises I can’t keep. I’m not a nice person. I’m fucked up. I’ve killed before, and I might just lose it and kill again. I won’t lie to her. That’s not me.

  Kitten licks her lips again.

  I take in a breath, pulling out my phone. That does it! I’m calling her an Uber. She can wait in the lobby of the hotel. It’s that, or I’ll walk her back to the club. This isn’t going to happen. I’m not sure what I was thinking. I wasn’t! I was so caught up with need for the woman in the shirt, I lost my ever-loving mind for a few minutes. “I don’t think—” I start to say, when I hear a menacing snarl.

  There’s a streak of black, and the girl next to me screams.

  “What the—?” I shout. It’s the Doberman. Where did she come from? I left her at home, asleep in her bed. The dog grabs the girl’s leather jacket and starts to shake her viciously. She’s growling loudly as she shakes. I hear ripping.

  “Dog!” I yell. “Stop that,” I shout again.

  The Doberman doesn’t let up. In fact, I think she shakes the girl more viciously than before. Her growls have deepened. Her jacket tears some more. I think it might be faux leather.

  “Fuck…Dog! Come on!” I grab her by her collar and yank. She doesn’t budge. I put my hands around her shoulders and give a hard pull.

  The creature finally lets go. She turns and snaps at me as she does. Her teeth rip into my flesh. I growl a warning, feeling my lips curl back from my teeth.

  I put myself between the dog and the girl. I watch as the Doberman’s eyes soften. Her whole stance softens.

  I realize that I’m still showing my teeth. That my hands are curled into fists. Shit! Fuck! I think my eyes might be glowing. “Stand down.” My voice is guttural.

  The dog goes down onto her haunches. Her eyes are still on me. I think I see defiance in their depths. This is not total submission. I’m part animal. I would know. She makes a whining noise. “You’d better be fucking sorry,” I mumble.

  I hear ragged breathing behind me. I smell terror. That and urine. Good thing I didn’t take this princess back to the hotel room with me. If she couldn’t handle a dog, she certainly wouldn’t be able to handle me. “You okay?” I ask as I turn around.

  “Don’t turn your back to it.” Her voice is shrill. She’s terrified. Her eyes are wide.

  “The dog is mine,” I say. “I don’t know what came over her.”

  “Yours…it’s yours?”

  I nod.

  “You take your dog out with you? What kind of sicko does that?”

  I don’t say anything. I didn’t take the dog with me, but I am very much a sicko.

  “Oh, my god!” She covers her mouth with her hand. “You’re bleeding.” Her gaze is on my arm.

  I look down at the four puncture marks. They’re oozing blood. My shirt is ruined. “It’s nothing,” I say.

  “That’s not nothing. You’ll probably need a tetanus shot.”

  “I’ll live. Do you need me to walk you back to the club? Or can I organize you a—”

  “I’m fine. I’ll manage.” Her eyes are on the Doberman, who’s sitting next to me in her usual position like nothing happened. The dog is looking at the girl. There’s murder in her eyes.

  “Let me pay for the damage—” I start to say. Her jacket is ripped.

  “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” I watch as the girl walks away. She’s going back towards the club, taking rapid strides. She glances back a couple of times. I’m not sure if she’s worried about the dog or if it’s me who makes her nervous. Probably a combination of both.

  “What are you doing here? Did you follow me?” I look down at the dog. Irritated at myself for talking to the creature…yet again. Like a complete asshole, I keep going. “Let’s go home. It’s a long walk, because I doubt an Uber would agree to a dog in the back seat.”

  4

  Rage

  “There’s been a new development,” I tell Gretchen.

  “I still can’t believe she escaped.” The woman talks right over me, looking lost in thought. “Arthur is sure he bolted her kennel door.”

  “Mistakes happen.” I shrug.

  “That’s true.” Gretchen still has her eyes on the dog at my feet. “We have an eight-foot perimeter fence, though. Her escape makes no sense.” She pulls in a breath. “I guess where there’s a will, there’s a way.”

  “I guess so.”

  “We’ll need to be more careful. Can’t have an animal like this walking the streets.” I want to defend the dog, but the words get stuck in my throat. Gretchen is right. She frowns at me. “You were saying something about a new development?” she asks.

  “It might not just be men that she doesn’t get along with. She wasn’t too fond of a woman last night either.” I play it right down, even though I probably shouldn’t.

  “Oh, no! What happened?”

  “Just some snapping and growling,” I play it down some more. “It might have been the individual.” I’m wearing long sleeves to cover the bite, which is red and angry. It’s healing slower than normal.

  Gretchen nods. “We’ll have to get her evaluated. It doesn’t bode well at all.” She tsks a couple of times.

  Fuck!

  How the hell are they going to find a home for this blasted dog? How? They’re not! There’s no way in hell. It isn’t my problem. I have no time for a dog. My life is complicated as it is. All I need is a dog who has a shorter fuse than my own.

  It won’t work!

  It can’t!

  I pull a few more hundreds out of my wallet and hand them over to Gretchen. “Get a lock for the cage. Get the dog some help…please,” I force out the word. “Give her a chance,” I add.

  “Are you sure—?”

  “I’m sure!” I try not to snap.

  Gretchen takes the leash from me, and I walk out. I jump into my car and head straight for Manny’s boxing gym. Ten minutes later, I pull up into the parking lot.

  I head inside.

  Manny is helping one of the youngsters from the youth program Night runs. He’s showing the kid how to take up a defensive stance and running him through some boxing footwork drills.

  I start with a series of warmup stretches. Before long, I’m pounding into the bag, working on both my punches and my kicks. I’m sure to work my body equally on both sides. The sweat is dripping off of me by the time Manny comes over. It looks like he’s done helping the kid, who is nowhere in sight. The gym is fairly quiet at this time on a Sunday morning. There are two other guys here, and that’s it. Suits me just fine. I enjoy the solitude.

  “Rage,” Manny says as he gets to me. “What did that bag ever do to you?” He smiles.

  I must say, I envy his easy way. It’s probably why we get along so well. He isn’t a big talker, and he’s an all-around nice guy without being a pushover.

  “I need to stay fit,” I say, giving the bag a high kick.

  “I can see that.” Manny smiles.

  I grab my towel and wipe it across my face. “Do you have any fights lined up?”

  Manny laughs. “Easy, Tiger. It’s only been a week. Nothing worth your time or effort.”

  I make a grumbling noise. “Last week was a waste of my time.”

  “You won!” He looks animated.

  “It was a hollow victory, and you know it,” I say.

  “I’m still not sure why West threw in the towel.” He rubs his head. “I’ve never seen anyone come close to matching your natural talent in the ring.”

  I do. West is also a dragon demigod. He was using his superhuman strength during our bout, which was pissing me the hell off. Things started to get a little out of hand when W
est’s second threw in the towel. I can’t believe that was a week ago. I’ve since found out that I have a half-brother. “Natural talent…huh…I work my ass off, and you know it.”

  “So you’re the MMA fighter Manny’s always boasting about?” Some meat-head saunters over. He’s not as tall as me, but he’s built like a brick shithouse. There is such a thing as being too big. You tend to lose speed and agility. Still, he’s huge for a human; I respect that.

  I nod. I don’t feel like a conversation. “Take care, Manny, I’ll see you—”

  “How’s about a couple of rounds?” He touches the side rails on a nearby boxing ring.

  “No…thanks.” I look back at Manny.

  “Come on!” he pushes. “You scared of losing?” He grins at me.

  “I wouldn’t, Tiny.” Manny shakes his head.

  “Why not?” Tiny asks Manny. “You said I’m good. That I can pack a punch.”

  “I wouldn’t!” Manny says again. “Take my word for it.”

  I pick up my water and take a drink before putting down the bottle. Then I run my towel over my face and behind my neck.

  “Come on,” he tries some more, “best of three.”

  “We wouldn’t need three,” I warn.

  Tiny throws his head back and laughs. “That confident?”

  “Stating facts.”

  “Oh!” He smiles. “That’s harsh. I’d like to see you do it. I’m sure I can take you.” His eyes turn serious as they land on me.

  I roll my eyes. “It’s your funeral.”

  “You can tap out at any time,” Manny tells Tiny. “If he drops you, for the love of god, stay down.”

  “I’ve never been dropped before,” Tiny says, holding out his hands so that Manny can put his gloves on.

  “You’ve never fought against Rage before,” Manny warns.

  Once he finishes with Tiny, Manny puts my gloves on. “Don’t hit him too hard.” His eyes are trained on mine.

  I nod once. I’m not in the best mood. This isn’t a great idea. “You sure about this?” I give Tiny one more chance to bow out.

  He snort-laughs. “Course I am.”

  “It’s just a friendly sparring match,” Manny reminds us. I can see by the look in Tiny’s eyes that there’s nothing friendly about this as far as he’s concerned. There are always guys like this. Not necessarily bad, but out to prove something. I’m doing well on the MMA circuit, and they want to say they beat me.

  Manny tries to put a headguard onto me, but I shake my head. “I’m good.”

  Manny goes over to Tiny. “Me too,” he says.

  “Put it on,” Manny insists.

  “I’m good!” Tiny grinds out.

  We get into the ring. Manny is going through the various rules. Things like not hitting below the belt and what constitutes a knock-out. He goes on to talk through the rules concerning tapping out. I listen with half an ear. I’ve heard it all before. Truth is, I’m tired. I don’t want to be here.

  We knock gloves, and then it’s on. Instead of feeling me out, Tiny comes at me right from the start. I duck, and he hits air.

  I have to say, the guy packs a punch. If his swipe had connected, I would be feeling it. The second I come up, he throws a left, lifting his knee at the same time. I think he was hoping I would duck again. It’s a bold move. I have to give him credit for being all in.

  The problem with all in is that it means I’m all in too. I punch Tiny. It’s a loud thump that gets him square in the jaw. I follow it up with a left hook to the side of the head. Tiny goes down like a ton of bricks.

  Many groans. “I told you to go easy.”

  “What do you mean?” I frown. “I didn’t break anything.” I look down at Tiny. He’s fast asleep. “He’ll have a headache, but he’ll be just fine.”

  “That’s not fine.” Manny points at Tiny. “It was supposed to be a fun sparring match.”

  “It’s his own fault,” I grumble, holding my hands out to Manny so that he can take off the gloves.

  Manny laughs. “I guess so. Do you feel better?”

  I glower at my manager, who laughs harder. Tiny moans, his head rolls to the side. He’s starting to come to. I grab my things and leave.

  5

  Nia

  There is beauty in darkness. You just need to be willing to look harder to find it.

  It’s nighttime, and all is quiet. I look at my hands, studying them. I see blood, even though they are clean. The blood of many is on these hands.

  I can safely say that they deserved it, every last one of them. Just because they deserved it, didn’t mean I wanted to do it. That I set out to become what I have become. There is one man out there who still deserves to die for what he did. For what he wants to do. He’s evil.

  I. Hate. Him.

  For the last year, I’ve dreamed of what I will do to him when I am finally ready to face up to him. His day of reckoning is coming. With each breath I take, it draws nearer.

  I need to stay strong.

  I look down at the form in the bed. The sheets are low around his waist. Tangled around his hips.

  I have to say that he is beautiful when he is sleeping. When the demons he wrestles are quiet. When his mind is blank. His features are smooth. His eyes are closed. Dark lashes fan his cheeks.

  I am able to admire his beauty. The sheer strength within him. Strength that comes from more than just sinew and muscle; there is magic in him too. An immense power inside that he may not even know exists. He is afraid of his power. His strength. The markings on his chest are more than just for show. I see symbols and runes within the lines and designs. They’ve been carefully hidden within the swirls and patterns. Instead of working to ward off evil, they are here to keep it inside and tethered. I feel sorry for this man. Why does he hide away? Why does he keep himself tethered? I know something happened to him when he was much younger. There are rumors of a power-surge in the dragon lands. His name has been whispered. I explore the markings. There are a helmet and spear, as well as a wild boar. All symbols of Ares. All fitting.

  My gaze moves back to his face. To the scar that cuts through his eyebrow. I reach my fingers towards his face…that scar. Made by one of my kind, or so it is rumored. Must be, since the scar is still so prominent.

  Quicker than lightning, he grabs my hand. His eyes are open. “What the fuck?” he roars. He goes from lying down to standing in less than a split second, not letting go of my hand at all. His other hand closes over my throat, and my back is against the wall.

  His touch is firm. It doesn’t hurt. I can still breathe but talking will be difficult.

  His eyes are blazing. His jaw is tight. His frown is deep. I watch as recognition bleeds into his gaze. “You,” he whispers. His hand relaxes a smidgen before tightening back up. “What are you doing here?” he growls. “You followed me?” His eyes narrow on mine. “You fucking followed me!”

  I don’t attempt to speak. I stay calm and keep my eyes on his. He takes hold of my wrists and lifts my hands above my head, holding me trapped against the wall. His big body is just an inch away from mine. I feel the heat radiate from him. I can feel the menace rolling off him. “You’d better start talking.” His eyes drift down. He sucks in a breath. “You’re naked… Fuck!” he snarls the word.

  “You wanted sex,” I say by way of explanation. “Here I am.”

  His eyes flare with surprise, but he quickly schools his emotions. His frown is back. It’s deep. “Sex…yes. Yesterday at the club. What I didn’t want was for some crazy to follow me home. That’s fucking stalking. To come into my house uninvited…” He shakes his head. His eyes are narrowed and hard.

  “I’m not going to hurt you,” I whisper.

  He lets me go completely, his lips twitch with the start of a smile. At least, I think it’s a smile. I take him in. Tall, well-muscled without being beefy. He’s naked and aroused.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” he grinds out. “You’re going to tell me what the fuck you’re doing
here before I get angry.”

  I shrug. “I came for sex,” I try again. Men love sex. It makes them a little crazy. I’m going to use sex to get Rage on my side. My other plan didn’t work. I’m running out of options. Maybe he would be more willing to help me if we were sleeping together. There’s another important reason why I need him to have sex with me as well. I hope it works.

  “That’s not going to happen.” He shakes his head.

  “Why not?” I look down at his member. “You’re aroused. You were at that club last night because you were looking for sex. You wanted me.”

  “You broke into my house. That’s why not. I think you might need help. That or a jail cell. I don’t sleep with crazy-assed women. Like I said, you need some serious help.”

  “I do need help.” How does he know that? Do I look desperate? “I thought I could offer you sex in exchange for your help.” I shrug. “It’s the only thing I have to bargain with.”

  He scrubs a hand over his face. “You’re giving me a headache. Can we start with why you followed me home? Why are you here?”

  “I need a place to stay.”

  “No!” He folds his arms. “You can’t stay here.”

  I could tell from the way he was looking at me last night that he was aroused. Pity I was too angry with him to take advantage of that situation. “Just a couple of nights. I could—” I lift my hand to touch him, but he takes a step back.

  “Hell no! I don’t care how gorgeous you are. You’re clearly a few cards short of a full deck.”

  He thinks I’m crazy. I suppose I can’t blame him. I only wish I had learned more skills during my lifetime. I have one to speak of. I know how to kill someone in under five seconds. Other than that, I’m not much good at anything.

  “You need to get your clothes back on, and you need to get the hell out of my house.” He points at his bedroom door.

  “I need a place to sleep.” I need far more than that, but I can see he’s in no mood to talk. I don’t want to overwhelm him.

  “I need peace and quiet and a good night’s sleep. Looks like we’re both fresh out of luck.” He flicks on a light switch. I follow him into the living room, where he turns another light on. He’s looking around the place. “Where are your clothes? This is insane. I can’t believe you came to my house. Who the hell are you anyway?”