Lord of Rain (The Dragon Demigods Book 5)

by Charlene Hartnady

  Lyre smiles. “You’re so sexy.” His eyes track her body. “I’m so glad you came back to my place. Back to me.” I knew it. The motherfucker wants to take my woman.

  “She’s mine!” I snap, narrowing my eyes on the bastard.

  “She’s so beautiful,” Lyre gushes.

  “And mine!” I snarl. I’m done playing nice. I’m going to kill this fucker. Gabby will know how much I love her when I offer her Lyre’s still-beating heart. “I say we fight for her.”

  “Oops! Looks like I gave you a little too much, handsome.” Gabby winks at me, making my heart skip a beat. “No fighting, my love.”

  “Too much what?” I ask.

  “Nothing, my sweet. I’m going to enjoy having you.” She winks at me.

  Thank fuck! My gorgeous woman is ready for me now. “Should we find a bedroom?” I take off my jacket and then my tie. My cock has never been this hard before. It feels like it might split in two if I don’t push inside her soon.

  “Soon, my love.” My woman licks her lips. I want them around my girth. No! I need to be inside her. She’s making me wait. I love and hate this back and forth. This is the woman of my dreams.

  Gabby chuckles softly and looks at Lyre. “Here I was thinking I would have to put you to sleep, but it wasn’t necessary after all. You really should try to loosen up a little, hon’.” I don’t know who Gabby is talking to. It might be important, so I hang on her every word. I need to make her happy. “I guess the two of you aren’t in a relationship after all. Love is the only antidote.”

  “I don’t want to sleep,” Lyre says, sounding spaced out. “I can’t make you come if I’m sleeping.”

  What the fuck?

  “That is very true,” Gabby says to him, but she turns to wink at me, and I know that she feels nothing for Lyre.

  “Handsome…” she says to me. My face hurts from grinning. I’m so happy.

  “Yes? What can I do for you, babe?” I will give her anything. I’ll take my own life for her, all she has to do is ask.

  “Lie down on the floor for me.”

  I want to make love to my Gabby, but I don’t like an audience. I frown. “You want me here? In front of them?” I point at that bastard, Lyre. He would love to watch.

  “It’ll be fun,” she says.

  “I would rather have you to myself, I don’t share well.” She must understand how serious I am about her.

  “Humor me, sweetheart. I just want to touch and kiss you. We can go to the bedroom in a few minutes.”

  She can’t wait. I can’t wait either. “You’ll strip for me when we get there.” I want to see her…all of her. I want to touch her so badly my hands are shaking. “As soon as we get there.” I lie down on the floor. My dick hurts. My balls are aching.

  “Lyre, hon’…” He makes this dreamy noise of agreement. “Go sit over there at the table.”

  Good!

  Gabby is sending that bastard away. “I want to kiss you too.” He pouts. “I’m not as picky about sharing.”

  Gabby laughs. She says something to the human. She might also be talking to Lyre, but I am done listening. I need to feel. I need to show her what she means to me.

  “Get your sexy ass over here,” I tell my woman. I like how she toys with me, but I’m done playing games.

  “On my way.” Even her voice is sexy. “You…stand where I can see you,” she snarls at the human, letting her go. “Ready, handsome?” she asks me.

  “Oh yeah!” I grip her hips as Gabby straddles me. I’ve never been readier. “You okay, babe?” I ask. My woman has this look in her eyes. It’s desperation. She feels it too.

  “Never better,” she purrs.

  Gabby puts a hand on my chest, and I have to hold back a snarl of pure need. Then her lips lock with mine.

  Yes!

  Yes!

  Finally, I kiss her with everything I have. I feel my soul meld with hers. Gabby moans long and hard. I know she feels it too. I feel this pulsing through my body. Like I’m having an orgasm even though we aren’t fucking. Maybe we are fucking. We must be. I don’t care that Lyre and…I can’t remember if there was someone else in the room. I don’t care. This is bliss. The best thing I have ever felt. My balls are about to explode. My heart belongs to this woman. Gabby.

  Then she is being ripped from me. It feels like my heart is torn from my chest. Like my very lifeblood is sapped from me. Who dares? Who?

  Him.

  That fucker.

  Lyre.

  I snarl. I’m going to kill him. One second I am lying down, and the next, I am up and going at Lyre. Adrenaline is coursing through my body. My head connects with his middle. He makes a pained noise. I did that, and it feels amazing. I want him to suffer. I clench my fists and start pummeling the bastard. As each fist lands, I feel elated. I want to bathe in his blood. I rip my claws across his skin. I snarl and growl. Gooseflesh breaks out all over my body at the thought of victory. Of claiming my woman.

  I hear shouting behind me, but I ignore it. Nothing else matters until this bastard is dead, and even then, only she will matter. My Gabby. Saying her name in my head fuels me.

  “Stop!” I hear behind me. “I’ll shoot Gabby, I’m going to kill her. Stop, or I will kill the harpy.” It’s the human, and she’s threatening my woman.

  I stop.

  “It’s me,” Lyre says. “Your brother.”

  I don’t give a shit about him. Gabby is in danger. I’ll take out the human and then finish Lyre. I turn and launch myself at her. I feel a sting on my thigh and am thrown back a step or two. I’m not sure why, but I don’t care.

  Kill.

  I need to take her out.

  “Freeze!” she yells. Is she fucking stupid or something?

  I try to get to her again, but once more, I fall back. I frown. Both my thighs hurt. I feel something warm gushing down my legs. I smell the coppery scent of blood. Then someone wraps their arms around me, but I pull away. My eyes are on her. The human. The threat.

  “Stop! Don’t!” the human shouts. She’s trying to tell me what to do. She threatens my woman and then throws commands like I’m going to listen.

  I charge, noticing at the last second that she is holding a gun. It only incites me further. If she is armed, she is more dangerous to Gabby. I hear an explosion and am thrown off my feet. The bitch shot me. I need to get up. I have to protect Gabby. I have to—

  “Stay down!” Lyre yells. He is kneeling next to me.

  “No!” the human shouts. I hear another gunshot. Pain blossoms in my chest all over again, even though I know it wasn’t me who was shot this time.

  My love! My Gabby. I see how blood begins to soak her shirt.

  No!

  No!

  I’m not sure if I am shouting the words out loud or if they are merely in my head. My beautiful woman coughs, blood trickles from her mouth.

  “Gabby!” I shout. “No! Gabby.” I see the horror in her eyes. I can see the pain she is feeling. I feel it too. I can feel us being ripped apart. “My love. My love. What did you do?” I shout at the human. “Kill you!” It’s getting harder to talk. To think. I can still feel. I can feel my soul ripping from my body.

  Gabby coughs again. I know she is dying. I can feel it. I’m trying to get up, but someone is holding me down. I can’t see clearly. Everything is fuzzy. I have never felt pain like this in all my life. It isn’t physical. If only it were physical. It’s almost a relief when I sink into oblivion. My last thought is to hope this excruciating pain will have subsided when I wake up…if I wake up. I don’t want to wake up. I can’t live in a world where she does not exist. I just can’t!

  2

  Three and a half months later…

  Ashley

  I watch as my best friend’s eyes widen, her mouth falls open for a couple of long seconds. “No! You’re shitting me.”

  “I’m serious.”

  “No!” Candice gasps out the word.

  “Yes. It’s not what I want but,” I sh
rug, “what choice do I have?”

  “I never thought I’d see the day. I thought you were in line to take over the running of the place one of these years. Besides that, you absolutely love your job,” she says, picking up her piña colada and taking a long sip. “I have no idea how or why you love it,” she makes a face, “but you do.”

  Candice and I met five years ago when she started as a cashier at my parent’s bakery. Those were the good old days. The days when Buns and Breads did extremely well. Candice lasted all of three weeks on a part-time basis. She hated every minute of it. Hated dealing with the customers. Hated the three pounds she put on because sticking to any kind of diet while working in a bakery is impossible. The only good thing that came from her time at Buns was that we hit it off immediately and have been besties ever since.

  “I do love my job. I love the smell of baking bread. I love decorating cakes. I love coming up with new pastry ideas, but my parents can’t afford to keep both Simon and me on the payroll. They’re planning on letting Simon go at the end of this month.” I look down at my frozen margarita, using my straw to stir through the ice.

  “That is rough,” Candice admits.

  “Especially since he just found out his wife is pregnant.”

  “Again?” Candice gasps. “How many is that now?”

  “Five. This will be their fifth child.”

  Candice widens her eyes. “It’s time to close shop.”

  “It certainly is. He said something about her having her tubes tied after this one is born.” I sigh. “You see my dilemma? Simon needs this job. They barely make ends meet as it is.”

  “You also need your job. You work hard. You deserve to be there. It’s your family business. You’re a much better pastry chef than Simon will ever be.”

  “Thanks, but it’s him or it’s me. I’m hoping to find something else. It need not be forever, just until the bakery gets back on its feet. If I play my cards right, I might be able to work and help it get there, all at the same time.”

  “What positions are you applying for?” She takes another sip of her drink. I can see by the look in her eyes that she isn’t done talking. “Surely you’re not planning to work as a pastry chef? It’s not like you can apply to work at your biggest competition, since that’s the only other gig in town.”

  I choke on the sip, letting go of the straw and covering my mouth. “Lord, no! My dad would never forgive me.”

  A well-known franchise had opened just around the block a couple of months back. They have stores all over the country and obviously buy their raw materials in bulk because they’re able to mass-produce products at a much better rate. I’m sure the quality isn’t as good as ours but it’s good enough to have stolen most of our corporate clients. We’d expected many of them to come running back, but it hasn’t happened. Times are tough. As a smaller mom and pop business, we can’t compete and still make ends meet. It’s tragic. My parents could very well lose their life’s work. I’m worried!

  “What then?” Candice makes a face. “I can’t picture you doing anything other than baking and creating.”

  I give Candice what I hope is a dirty look. “I can do other things.”

  “Like what?” My friend giggles – we both know I’ve never been good at anything else.

  “I can learn new skills, that’s what.”

  She laughs. “Yeah, right. Unless you have a spatula or a baking tray in your hands, you are the clumsiest person I know. I’m not sure how you manage to produce such amazing cakes. They’re more like works of art. Yet your middle name should be Butterfingers.” She laughs. “Actually, that’s really funny. You’re a pastry chef…a pastry chef with butterfingers.”

  I can’t help but smile. “Yeah, you’re a real riot.”

  “It is funny, admit it!”

  I nod once, still smiling.

  She sighs. “But in all seriousness, you’re shy if you don’t know a person. I know how much you hate working the front-of-house.”

  I shrug. “I get by.”

  “Only because you understand every part of your family business. Only because you love it so much. Not to mention that most of the customers are regulars.”

  “I’ll cope just fine in a new environment if I have to,” I counter, taking another sip of my cocktail. “I’ve already applied for a couple of positions.”

  Her eyes widen. “Where? Doing what exactly?”

  “At the Westvalley Hotel as a pastry chef.”

  “Okay…” Candice nods, “that would work.”

  “Except it’s long hours, and I’d be working for twenty percent less than I currently earn.” I make a face. “I’ve applied at one or two restaurants, but I think they’re looking for someone who can do savory as well as sweet.” Not my forte at all. “I only studied pastry.”

  Candice plays with the umbrella sticking out of a piece of pineapple on the side of her drink. “You said you were willing to learn.”

  “Absolutely, but I’m not sure they’d be willing to take me on as a sous chef with such limited experience. I have my fingers crossed.” I hold up my fingers to show her. “I applied for a personal assistant position as well,” I blurt. I hadn’t planned on telling Candice.

  “A PA?” Candice frowns at me. “You mean personal chef…because that might work.”

  “Nope, I mean personal assistant.” I take another sip of my drink.

  Candice pushes out a laugh. “You?”

  “Yes, me.” I sound put out because I feel put out.

  “A PA needs to be able to do a whole array of admin duties. Do you even know how to turn a computer on?”

  “Of course I do,” I practically yell. The people from the next table turn and stare. I ignore them.

  “No, really.” She lifts her brows. “You would need to be able to take notes and type them up. Answer the phone. Put together—”

  “I read the job description. I have a very good idea of the requirements.”

  “And you applied anyway?” She laughs some more.

  “I can…sort of…mostly carry out all of the requirements. I help out from time to time in the office at Buns.”

  “Signing for stock doesn’t count.”

  “I do more than just sign for stock. I manage the place when my folks are on vacation.” I take a sip of my drink, the icy concoction cooling me down, which I need for this conversation. “I can take care of a grown man. Essentially that’s what a PA is. A little bit like a babysitter for an adult. I’ll fetch things for him and make his coffee.”

  “There’s a whole lot more to it than that. I’m hoping it’s a lower-level executive position.” She lifts her brows at me in question.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Oh, no!” She sucks in a breath. “You didn’t apply for a top-level PA position, did you?”

  I shrug.

  “No!” she groans, then shakes her head. “It’s fine.” She takes another sip of her drink. “They’ll never call you for an interview.”

  I widen my eyes. “What kind of a friend are you? Yes, it’s a top-level position. I’d be PA to the CEO, and I’ll have you know it pays a small fortune. I’d double my salary, which means I can save for some high-end equipment for the bakery. We’d be able to produce bigger batches quicker, thus lowering our price per unit.”

  She shakes her head, looking at me like I’m crazy. “There’s a reason they’re offering so much. Have you even thought of that?”

  “I can be a PA,” I say, only half believing it myself.

  “You’re a pastry chef, not a personal assistant. I doubt you’ll get an interview.” She waves a dismissive hand, which should irritate me but doesn’t.

  “You suck as a friend,” I push out, laughing.

  “A good friend will always be honest, and I’m nothing but honest.”

  “That’s for sure,” I snort.

  “You won’t get a call from them, so forget about the PA position and concentrate on getting a job you can actually do.” A few
seconds go by. She cocks her head and looks at me strangely, her eyes narrowing on me. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  “Nothing.” I take a sip of my drink.

  “Tell me!” she demands.

  “I might have embellished on some of my current duties.”

  “What?” Her eyes go wide again. “No! Don’t say that. Promise me that if they call you, you’ll decline the interview.”

  “I will not! It’s double my salary.”

  “For good reason.” She rolls her eyes. “Not that you aren’t worth a ton of money, but come on…you should pursue being a personal chef. I’ve heard they make fantastic money.”

  “It takes time to build a name, and I don’t have that luxury. If they call I’m going.”

  “Don’t!” She shakes her head so hard her hair flies about her face.

  “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t.”

  “Because you’ll make a fool of yourself.”

  I gasp. “You have such little faith in me.”

  “Hon’,” she reaches over and takes my hand, “this has nothing to do with faith. You’re not qualified. You shouldn’t do this. You’ll regret it. You should never have embellished on your resume.”

  I get this feeling in the pit of my stomach, like maybe Candice is right. Then I shove the feeling aside. It’s worth a shot. I’m not someone who quits before they’ve even tried. I can do this.

  3

  Bolt

  I’ve heard it said that love is the best thing that can happen to a person. That it’s sad that many will never get to experience what true love is. That it’s magical. Something to be thankful for.

  They lied.

  It’s a curse.

  Love is only magical when it’s reciprocated. When two souls meet somewhere in the middle and fireworks ensue. Otherwise, it’s pure torture.