by Zoe Chant
Dante nodded. “Makes sense.”
He had watched Mercy all day as she’d explained the situation to people, her enthusiasm never once failing, the spark in her eyes clearly infectious. It was clear people listened to her, respected her. Her force of personality couldn’t be denied: things seemed possible when Mercy talked about them.
She is incredible.
Dante was still bothered by her earlier words about not being as strong as everyone thought she was, but there had been no time to discuss what she’d meant by that in the intervening hours. In fact, it seemed like Mercy was actively trying to make him forget about it – smiling brightly at him whenever she finished talking to one of her friends, before quickly moving on to the next topic. Her demeanor had totally changed.
If she doesn’t want to talk about it, I shouldn’t force things, Dante thought to himself as they pulled up outside the restaurant. Perhaps this isn’t something that can be taken care of with words. Maybe it’s something that can only be shown through actions.
His dragon definitely liked that idea. It lifted its head, jetting smoke from its nostrils.
Our mate would like it too, it said, flicking its tail smugly. You know she would. We can sense it.
Dante cleared his throat, which had suddenly begun to feel somewhat tight as heat pooled within him. Mercy wasn’t only smart, brave and compassionate – she was also the most desirable woman Dante had ever seen, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to go on resisting her for much longer.
He couldn’t tear his eyes away from her as she pulled up outside the restaurant, his gaze lingering on the full curve of her hips and buttocks as she opened the door and got out of the car.
Everything about her was rounded and womanly – she was luscious and gorgeous and perfect, from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. Even dressed casually in jeans and a t-shirt and with her springy black curls pulled into a loose bun, she was a knockout.
“You coming?” she asked, leaning down and looking at him through the open car door.
Dante shook himself, getting out of the car. “Sorry, I got distracted.”
Mercy’s eyebrow quirked. There was a small hint of a mischievous smile on her lips as she said, “Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Dante could see the heat in her eyes as she returned his level gaze. Her cheeks were coloring slightly, and his dragon senses could pick out the jump of her pulse in her throat, the way her breath hitched slightly as she let her eyes drift down over his chest.
I can’t hold back any longer. She’s irresistible.
Dante knew it was true. They were drawn together. The mated bond was pulling at them, demanding that it be consummated – that he claim her and crown her as his mate.
He was unable to hold back a low groan in his throat as he pictured Mercy beneath him, hair tousled, face flushed, her mouth open in a cry of pleasure...
Behind you!
Dante was used to obeying his dragon’s instincts without hesitation. He did so again now, ducking down and swinging his body to the side to evade the blow that could have stunned him, had it actually connected with his head.
He’d spent so much of his life fighting that his movements flowed without his conscious will now. Dante swung around, twisting his torso to bring his elbow up, smashing it into the ribs of the man who’d attacked him.
A coward, his dragon seethed as the man staggered back. An attack from behind is the way of a coward. He deserves no quarter from us.
Dante gritted his teeth. As tempting as it was, he pushed the thought aside. He had to keep a clear head – clearly, this man had been lying in wait for them. As he watched, another three men appeared from the alleyway by the parking lot, all of them huge, grim-faced bruisers.
“Mercy,” Dante shouted, turning back to where she stood, frozen, by the car. “Get inside. Now. I’ll deal with them.”
Mercy hesitated, her eyes wide. “But –”
“Now, Mercy,” Dante said firmly. “I can handle them myself. But I won’t let you stay here and risk getting hurt.”
“Yeah, I don’t think she’s going anywhere.”
Dante swung back at the sound of the gritty, booming voice. He turned in time to see a bear of a man, his shoulders wide and his forearms like ham hocks, standing in the mouth of the alley. His face was contorted into a smirk, but his eyes were cold and dark.
“Garrick,” Mercy said, her voice shaking a little. “What the hell do you want?”
So this is Harlan Garrick, Dante thought, sizing him up. He was big – but he was human, that much he could tell from a quick glance. His dragon would have known immediately if Garrick had been a shifter.
Dante could take on a human – he could even take on three humans at once, if it came to that. His shifter instincts, speed, strength and healing meant they were no match for him.
Still...
The memory of the last time he’d fought Garrick’s men came back to him. For humans, they’d been surprisingly hardy. He’d needed to hit harder than he should have in order to take them down. In the past, he’d had to hold back when fighting humans to make sure he didn’t cause any permanent damage. But with those guys, he’d had to use almost all of his strength in fighting them, and holding back had only gotten him stabbed.
I’ll know better this time, Dante thought grimly. He didn’t like to fight all-out against humans, but to keep Mercy safe, he’d do whatever it took.
“You know exactly what I want,” Garrick spat out in answer to Mercy’s question. “I’ve made myself completely clear – now that I’m here, you either get along with me, or bad things happen. You haven’t been paying your dues, Ms. Reynolds, and now I’ve come to collect.” His eyes shifted to Dante. “If you’ve got the money to pay for hired muscle, you’ve got the money to pay me.”
Dante bristled.
Hired muscle? his dragon cried indignantly. Show him that we aren’t here for money – we are here only to protect our mate!
Shifting subtly, Dante put himself between Garrick’s line of sight and Mercy.
“I’m not here because she’s paying me,” he growled, letting the dragon come forward, letting it fill his voice. “I’m here to take you down.”
Dante balled his fists, tensing his shoulders. He was ready to fight. He’d wanted Mercy to be inside, but the men were standing too close to the doorway.
Get in the car and drive if things take a turn for the worse, Dante tried to send to her, unsure of how strong their psychic bond would be before he had had the chance to claim her. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.
Dante risked a quick glance over his shoulder, and saw Mercy frowning in concentration, as if trying to hear something from very far away.
She heard us. She knows. His dragon seemed very sure of this, but in any case, Dante didn’t have the time to ask questions.
Garrick let out a short, low bark of laughter. “Take me down, you say? Lots of people have said that to me – and yet, here I am, still standing. Trust me when I say you don’t want to try this. Whatever she’s paying you, it’s not worth it.” He lowered his head, glowering. “Walk away. You don’t have to have anything else to do with this. I’ll let the attack on my men slide – if you walk away now. But this offer’s only good for the next thirty seconds. After that, all bets are off.”
He’s scared, Dante’s dragon said, scenting the air. He doesn’t want to fight us. He’s hoping to scare you away – he doesn’t know we’re here to protect our mate.
There was no reason why he should, Dante knew. Humans didn’t know about mated bonds, and about what lengths shifters would go to in order to protect their mates. Dante was no more capable of walking away now than he was of cutting off his own head.
“I don’t need your thirty seconds,” he growled. “I’m going nowhere. And if you want to get to Mercy, you’ll have to go through me – and trust me, you won’t get through me.”
Dante spoke with confidence. Not only was he a dragon faci
ng off against a human, but he’d been fighting all his life. He was hardened to it, much as he didn’t like to do it, and he knew he was good at it.
Garrick shook his head. “Shame. Well, I gave you the chance. Too bad you didn’t take it.”
“I’m hearing a lot of words,” Dante snarled. “You gonna back them up with anything?”
He could feel the fire of his dragon in his blood. The threat this man had made against his mate had made it furious – a fury beyond anything any human could imagine.
If we had not been here to stop him, this man would have hurt our mate, his dragon screeched, unfurling its wings and breathing a stream of fire.
He was ready for the first man when he charged forward, swinging one beefy fist at Dante’s head. Dante ducked it easily, moving to the side and burying his own fist in the man’s stomach. He heard his breath leave him with an oof as he doubled over, winded. Dante didn’t hesitate, following up his punch with a kick to the man’s knees, bringing him down. The man, despite his bulk – or perhaps because of it – crumpled to the ground, a cry of pain leaving him as he fell.
One down.
Somehow, the fight didn’t seem so bad right now – it was easier than it had been the other night. The dragon’s fury lent him strength, directed his movements, and honed his instincts. He could almost see his opponents’ next moves before they made them, sensing them from the way their muscles tensed, the small changes to their stance.
They are no match for us.
His dragon was triumphant as Dante took down yet another man, bringing his elbow down on the back of his neck to make sure he stayed down.
The men were bigger than him, but they weren’t shifters. They were still tougher than average – a little too tough, a persistent voice at the back of Dante’s mind said – but they couldn’t match him.
Soon, there were none left – all of them lay sprawled on the ground, groaning, and not one of them had managed to lay a finger on Dante.
Now there’s only Garrick left.
The leader had hung back, watching Dante closely, and Dante had watched him back only so far as to make sure he wasn’t joining the fray. He surged toward him now, his dragon’s senses taking in everything: his hands were empty. He didn’t have a knife or a gun. His shoulders were tense. His mouth was set in a threatening snarl –
But there, in his eyes – that’s fear.
It was well-placed fear, Dante thought. He had just torn through his men – tough, muscular bruisers, all of them – as if they were nothing more than tissue paper.
And we will do the same to this man – no, this germ – who has dared to threaten our mate, his dragon thought.
“Wait!”
Garrick’s voice cut through Dante’s rage as he advanced, his fists already bunched, ready to block any attack he might launch.
To his surprise, however, Garrick was holding his hands up as if in surrender, his meaty fingers spread to protect his face.
Dante hesitated. He had not expected this at all. Sure, men like Garrick were often cowards, who sent others to do their dirty work for them. But he had never known a man who refused to fight when the chips were down. A man like that would find it difficult to maintain control over any gang he led. Dante knew from experience that it was often only the threat of violence that kept thugs like the ones he’d just taken down in check. If Garrick was too scared to fight, then how had he not been taken out long before now – and how had he kept all the people of Hainesville so scared?
Reluctant to hit a man who was offering his surrender – no matter how much he may otherwise have deserved it – Dante pulled back, snarling.
“What?” he asked. All his senses were still on high alert.
This could still be a trap, his instincts warned him.
“Don’t do it,” Garrick said. “I was warned you were more like a beast than a man, but I didn’t believe it until I saw it.”
Dante frowned. He was a fighter, that much was true. But surely Garrick had been in more fights than this?
I don’t like it.
This was... too easy. There was no way a man like Garrick would be giving up like this. The protection money he collected from the people here had to be a lucrative source of income for him. Dante didn’t believe for a moment he’d let it go without significantly more of a fight than this.
It has to be a trap.
“What’s the meaning of this?” he snarled, his shoulders tense.
“I want to call a truce,” Garrick said. “For now. We can work something out. What’s she paying you? I can double it.”
Red misted Dante’s vision once again.
What’s this fucker not getting?
“She’s not paying me anything,” he growled. “I’m doing this because people like you need to be gotten rid of. And I won’t stop until you’re gone.”
Garrick hesitated. His eyes traveled from Dante’s face to the men sprawled behind him. Some of them were only just now beginning to stagger to their feet, rubbing their heads and groaning. His lip twitched, eyes narrowing.
“You just went through my men like they weren’t even there,” Garrick said. “You think I’m a fucking idiot or something? I don’t start fights I don’t intend to win. Or if I do, I don’t continue ’em.”
“Not good enough,” Dante spat out. “You already started this. I’m not going to just let you walk away now.”
Garrick shook his head. “Maybe not. But I guess that gives you a choice – you can either follow me now, or you can go look after your lady friend.”
Dante’s blood ran cold.
Mercy?
He swung around. He was certain that none of Garrick’s men had laid a finger on her – he would have sensed it at once if she was in danger, and turned to protect her. None of them could have got anywhere near her without their bond telling him at once that his mate needed him.
And – no, Mercy was still there, standing by the car. But her eyes were wide, her face ashen. Dante could see the way she was trembling, even at this distance.
Clearly, she was in a huge amount of distress, standing as if frozen, her breath shallow and fast.
All at once, his dragon rose up within him, roaring.
Our mate! She needs us!
All thoughts of Garrick were immediately erased from his mind, as Mercy’s hammering pulse rose in his ears. He could hear it as if it was his own, beating next to his own heart.
“Mercy!”
He dashed toward her, ignoring the men around him.
Mercy turned her wild eyes toward him, her mouth dropping open. She blinked, holding her hands up as if to ward him off, and Dante stopped, pain searing through his chest.
“Mercy?”
At the edge of his senses, he could feel Garrick’s men beginning to make their escape, but he couldn’t care less about that right now. Everything in him was focused entirely on Mercy.
Take her in your arms, his dragon insisted. Comfort our mate.
His dragon’s instincts were still strong in his mind, and Dante found he could not resist them. His mate needed him.
Dante began to move toward her again, holding his arms out – but to his shock, Mercy took a step away from him, shaking her head.
“I – I –” she stuttered, her voice hoarse. “I need to –”
Dante only stared at her as his dragon roared within him – and then, without a word, Mercy turned and dashed to the door of the restaurant, throwing it open and disappearing inside.
Chapter Six
Mercy
Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.
Mercy repeated the mantra to herself as she sat on the floor of her bedroom, her hands clasped at the nape of her neck, her head between her drawn-up knees.
Shit.
Her gut felt like it was twisting itself into origami shapes, her heart hammering in her chest. She knew what was happening – she’d had enough panic attacks by now to identify them when they came on. And she’d grown better at dealing with them to
o, forcing herself to breathe, to observe the maelstrom inside her and know that it was only thoughts, and that thoughts couldn’t hurt her.
But it’s different this time. Those men. They came here. They attacked Dante. They –
Mercy squeezed her eyes shut. Dante had almost been hurt because of her. He had had to fight them. Guilt had her heart in a vise.
It’s your fault. If not for you, he wouldn’t have been stabbed the other night. And now... and now...
And now, after he’d protected her yet again, she’d left him standing in the parking lot while she ran inside without a word of explanation.
But she hadn’t wanted him to see her like this – to see how quickly and easily she could crumble. He’d told her in the car that he thought she was strong, brave, amazing – everything she knew she wasn’t.
He’d stop thinking all of those things if he could see you now, Mercy thought, tears welling in her eyes. He’d know you’re weak. That you couldn’t handle being a nurse. That you can’t handle anything.
She’d wanted to tell him in the car after he’d said those things to her that she wasn’t what he thought she was, but in the end, she hadn’t been able to bring herself to. So instead, she’d just smiled brighter, laughed louder, and turned the conversation to a different topic. Mercy wasn’t stupid, and she’d figured out that Dante was attracted to her – just as she was attracted to him. More attracted than she’d ever been to anyone. But would Dante still be interested in her if he knew what she was really like?
He was attracted to her because he thought she was something she wasn’t. Strong. Capable. Ready to take on the problems life threw at her. How could he still be interested in her when he found out that none of that was true?
He won’t be. And then the best thing that’s happened to you for years will slip away, just like everything else in your life.
Tears ran down her cheeks. She couldn’t help it. It didn’t seem fair. Dante was everything she had ever dreamed about: strong, protective, caring, compassionate. He’d immediately been supportive of her work in the community. She’d felt her heart melting as she’d watched him reading to the kids at the library – she’d been there for a good five minutes or so before he’d looked up and seen her, and it was clear that he was a natural with children, for all he’d protested that he didn’t know what he was doing.