by A. C. Arthur
To save her, he’ll sacrifice everything.
Born a dream reaper, Steele Ezo, a powerful half dragon, half human, is struggling to find his place in the Drakon hierarchy. He is ready to accept his fate until he realizes the next victim on the Reaper’s hit list is the sexy thief who’s caught his eye.
She’s supposed to die.
He’s forbidden to stop it.
But their inexplicable connection makes it impossible to step aside.
Abandoned by her family and abused by local enforcers, Ravyn Walsh lives life on her own terms. She’s created an underground sanctuary for the oppressed citizens of Burgess, and she needs funds to keep it running. When a lucrative job—stealing an ancient dagger—lands in her lap, she doesn’t hesitate, not even when a smoldering tattooed stranger attempts to stop her.
A dagger that can raise the dead is a powerful tool—one that could change the course of history. As they fight to keep the dagger out of the wrong hands, Ravyn will be forced to embrace the truth of her heritage, while Steele will find himself torn between saving a life that isn’t meant to be saved and denouncing the power he was born to wield.
Also available from A.C. Arthur
and Carina Press
Awaken the Dragon
Kimani Romance
Love Me Like No Other
A Cinderella Affair
Guarding His Body
Second Chance, Baby
Defying Desire
Full House Seduction
Summer Heat
Sing Your Pleasure
Touch of Fate
Winter Kisses
Desire a Donovan
Surrender to a Donovan
Decadent Dreams
Eve of Passion
From A.C. Arthur writing as Artist Arthur
and Kimani TRU
Manifest
Mystify
Mutiny
Mayhem
Mesmerize
Claim the Dragon
A.C. Arthur
Contents
The Legion Glossary
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
About the Author
Excerpt from Awaken the Dragon by A.C. Arthur
The Legion Glossary
Baron Drakon—a dragon not born from a pure breed leadership clan; in some cases their blood was mixed with other beings.
Communicator—a watch-like device that serves as GPS, internet, email and telephone, worn by the Legion agents and used to communicate with each other.
Drakon—dragon.
Drakon Selection—the act by which the dragon half of a Drakon selects its mate.
Dream dust—a frosty white dust that any dream being can produce to put someone to sleep.
Dream Reaper—receives visions of death via his dreams, and guides the Reaper to its next taking.
Dream Watcher—keeps watch over dreams and is able to communicate with others through dreams.
Fade/fading—the act of a Drakon vanishing from one place and traveling to another.
Far Realm—home of the Drakon and other mythological beings such as shifters (wolf, feline, etc.), gods and goddesses.
Fey Realm—home of the fey people; mystical fantasy-like land.
Hella—a combination of strong herbs spiked with hallucinogens.
Human Realm—home of the human species.
In-Between—the resting place between the veils that separate the realms.
Lords—vampires born of the Royal Blood.
Mimic—can change the structure of molecules in his/her body to look like someone else—human forms only.
Mind cleaning—the act of erasing memories from a human’s mind.
Noble Drakon—a dragon born from a pure breed clan with leadership status.
Reaper—a being that harvests death to maintain the power balance on the realms and delivers souls to the Spirit Realm.
Royal Blood—the royal hierarchy of the vampires.
Royal Capitol—the building which houses the global council of vampires.
Royal Court—the combined delegation of the global council of vampires and the King and Queen.
Soul emotion—feelings and thoughts not spoken, but felt deep within one’s soul. Only empaths and some magickal beings can read soul emotions.
Soul identity—the true nature of a being, beneath any façade such as beautification or adjustments via human bodies and other costumes.
Soul Identifier—a being with the power to see a soul identity.
Spirit Realm—home of the spirits; corporeal beings; ominous fog-filled land.
Veils—area that separates each realm, connected by the In-Between.
Watcher—keeps watch over a clan in the present realm, also possesses remote viewing, which is the power to track people or objects from afar.
Chapter One
He was watching her again. She could feel his fierce gaze bearing down on her like rolling thunder. Might as well give him something to look at.
She walked onto the dance floor, raising her arms above her head as the beat of the music moved through her, moving her ass so he could see each plump mound bounce along with her steps. The DJ had the bass turned up and she felt each thump in her chest as she turned so her back was facing the wall where he stood. She closed her eyes and let the female rapper’s easy flow slide through her mind. The lyrics said something about throwing it back and Ravyn thought it apropos since she wanted the enforcer who might be a little obsessed with her to catch all the shade she was throwing at him. If he wanted to watch her, he could watch, but he’d never catch her.
She was too good to be caught.
Besides that, he’d been watching her for weeks and had yet to speak one word to her, so maybe he wasn’t about doing his job. That wouldn’t be a surprise since none of the enforcers in Burgess actually did their real job. Instead they preferred to adopt a sadistic form of keeping order, using their guns and badges to cover the city in a cloak of fear and hopelessness.
“I like the way you move.”
Her eyes popped open at another man’s voice and she found herself staring up into eyes so dark they looked fake. His complexion was pale, brown hair straggly and hanging past his shoulders. She continued to dance, and he put his hands on her waist, picking up the rhythm and moving with her.
She smiled and lowered her arms to break the contact. “Hands off,” she snapped.
“Don’t get feisty, baby. I’m just looking for a good time.”
Ravyn stopped dancing and stepped closer to him, poking the sharp tip of the pocketknife she’d quickly pulled from the waist of her jeans into his gut. “Don’t get dead. Back up and go find your good time elsewhere.”
He hesitated. Big mistake. He blinked as if he doubted her, considering what disgusting words he would spew next in the hope of challenging her in some way. She decided to help him out. Pressing the knife farther until the moment she felt it prick his skin through the T-shirt he wore, she leaned close to whisper in his ear.
“
How much pain can you stand?”
He lifted his arms and used his hands against her shoulders to push her away. She eased the knife back into her pants before anyone around them could see. Not that the other patrons of the club had stopped their dancing, drinking or lurking long enough to witness her interaction with the dark-eyed creep.
“Crazy bitch!” he sneered at her before walking away.
Ravyn smiled.
She’d been called worse.
The music was still going and she recalled why she’d been on the dance floor in the first place. Picking up with the rhythm, she danced around in a circle until she was facing the wall where her admirer had stood, only to find that space empty. He was gone. Good. She walked off the dance floor and returned to the bar where she’d been standing, watching and listening. But her mark was gone, as well.
Vertis Pinkney was a rookie thief, extortionist and small-time drug dealer. He’d popped up in Burgess about a year ago, running his mouth about all the product he could score and dealers he knew from farther up north, but had never come through with anything on his own. What he was good at—and the only reason she ever allowed herself to be within earshot of him—was getting information. Three months ago, he’d mentioned an expensive collection of artifacts from Egypt being shipped to Burgess for an archaeological conference. That’s when she’d begun to plan.
“You want another drink, pretty lady?”
It would have been great if he’d called her by her name, or simply not acted familiar with her at all. But in the end, it didn’t matter. The bartender was an okay-looking guy and if she was in the market for one, she might have been interested. But she wasn’t and so his thick beard, bald head and smoldering gray eyes did nothing for her permanently-on-vacation libido.
“Nah, I’m good,” she responded with the same amount of nonchalance she gave everyone in this place.
She didn’t do the club scene often and Twilight had just reopened a few weeks ago, but this was where Vertis hung out.
“You need somethin’ else tonight?”
His hands were flat on the bar top as he leaned in to look pointedly at her. She held his gaze. “No.”
He shrugged as if she hadn’t just turned him down. “The back room’s open.”
“I’m aware.” She wasn’t here to buy drugs, get high or get laid.
“Or I could get you something personally and meet you with it later.”
She tilted her head, surveying him once more. His beard was a sandy brown color, thick and worn longer than she thought was necessary. His bare arms were roped with veins and muscles that seemed to strain against his skin. The sleeveless white T-shirt he wore was molded to his wide and also muscled chest. He was tall and she figured on another day, perhaps five or six years ago, she might’ve been willing to ride him toward a glorious orgasm.
“There’s nothing in that room or with you that I need.”
For an instant she thought he was gonna go all wounded-pride-need-to-lash-out on her, but eventually he smirked, pushed away from the bar and eased on down to the next customer—another woman who smiled the moment his attention was aimed at her. The guy’s flirting was pathetic.
Ravyn was glad to take her gaze elsewhere, looking around the room to see if she saw him. Vertis, not the enforcer. That guy had apparently left and that was just fine with her. She didn’t know why he was always hanging around her, anyway. Seeing him everywhere she went for the past few weeks was starting to make her a little edgy, something she couldn’t afford. Not when she was so close.
It appeared Vertis was gone too and all she could do was sigh. That meant her work was done for tonight. She turned away from the bar, pushing through the crowd of people until she was at the door. When a hand moved over the bare skin of her midriff, she stopped. Her body tensed as she prepared to fight.
“Next time, leave your weapons at home. We’ve got rules here.” The woman speaking to her was a couple inches shorter, with close-cut blonde hair and gold eyes that had to be contacts.
Her hand was flat against Ravyn’s knife.
“Then maybe you should provide a safer environment for your patrons,” Ravyn replied, then pushed through the door, leaving the woman to stare after her.
The evening air was warm against her face when she stepped outside, as summer inched its way toward fall. Her steel-toed boots made a muted sound as she crossed the sidewalk, heading down Luker Street toward the alley.
Cars whizzed by with almost the same frequency as if it were two o’clock in the afternoon, instead of two in the morning. The glow of white streetlights lining the curb cast eerie shadows on the ground and she pushed her hands into the front pockets of her black jeans. She was tired after taking inventory of supplies at Safeside and getting the Hudson boys settled in their new space. But she’d had to come out tonight. Confirmation was needed and had been partially obtained.
With a hum of satisfaction, she turned the corner into the alley. The bright lights from the clubs and buildings not far away didn’t reach into this area and nobody thought it made sense to add any. Easing her right hand out of her pocket, she pulled out and clicked on the penlight, which doubled as a slim tube of mace. The gadget had been made especially for her by someone she’d helped at Safeside and was easier to conceal than the knife at her waistband. Her steps were assured, but she did pick up her pace because there was no use in tempting the elements around her. She only had a few more blocks to walk and she’d be home.
There was a shit-ton of things to do at Safeside tomorrow—or rather a few hours from now. A food run was a must, a new schedule of duties and...something moved. Her steps slowed and she narrowed her eyes, focusing on the sound. Or did she see something?
No, there was nothing. She shrugged, presuming she was being ridiculous. Keeping the light aimed in front of her she continued walking, now clearing her mind of everything except getting to her destination. The air seemed thicker suddenly, like it was wrapping around her and holding tight, so tight she gasped. And then it moved, and something like pleasure rippled through her and for just an instant she wanted to hold on to it. But almost immediately there was a different presence that pricked her skin with awareness. The contradictions startled her and she tripped, then righted herself.
Her breath came in quick pants now, because the two very distinct feelings were confusing. She hadn’t felt pleasure in far too long, but the other, the itch to stand her ground and fight against whoever might be coming after her, was the norm for the past four years of her life. She reached into the band of her jeans and pulled out her knife, palming the handle in case she needed to jab someone quickly and run. Her first instinct was always to fight, but there were times when flight was the smarter move. With that in mind she hastened her steps, only to stop moments later when warmth flooded her body. She turned suddenly, not seeing anything but whispering, “What do you want?”
* * *
She knew he was there.
She always knew, even though she’d never turned to him to ask why he was close or what he wanted. If she had, Steele didn’t know what he would’ve said, because he didn’t know those answers either. There was no explanation for this physical tug that had existed between them since the first moment he’d seen her—at least none he wanted to accept. All he knew was that she was his responsibility and he’d never shirked his responsibility before. He’d be damned if now was going to be the start of something new.
Unless he was already damned.
“Your head on a platter is what I want, bitch!”
The guy from the club lunged from a corner in the alley, slamming his body against her back. She stumbled forward but quickly regained her footing and turned back, legs slightly crouched, knife in her right hand poised to slice.
“You should really learn to quit while you’re ahead,” she snapped back with a shake of her head.
Steele who
leheartedly agreed and he’d said as much to the idiot in their private conversation about half an hour ago when he’d followed the human out of the bar. The guy was either a total idiot or a glutton for punishment, since he’d completely ignored Steele’s warning. The warning that, instead of protecting her, seemed to have put her in harm’s way. Irritated with himself for that, Steele eased from the shadows, fully prepared to make his point perfectly clear this time.
Before that could happen, dumbass guy lunged for her again. He only had the use of one hand since Steele had broken the other one during their earlier chat. But she was agile and easily ducked out of the guy’s reach so that he slammed into the wall instead.
“If this is your idea of foreplay, you’ve gotta rethink your game plan,” she quipped and waited for him to turn around.
She wasn’t running away, even though Steele was certain she could have gotten far from the idiot who’d been drinking and most likely partaking of whatever drugs were being offered at the club. No, she was standing her ground and giving an ass whuppin’ worthy of his praise. If the sight of her wasn’t already embedded in his mind, it would be now.
“I’m gonna love hearing you scream,” the guy said because he really didn’t know when to call it a night.
This time he came toward her, one fist raised as if he really thought he was going to have the chance to punch her. No way was Steele going to let that happen. He could break the guy in two with his bare hands. The beast had been itching for him to do that earlier when he’d watched the man dare to put his hands on her in the club. Now, the beast strained against Steele’s body with a combination of rage and heat that he’d never felt before. Clenching his fists, Steele fought back against his beast, denying its appearance for the sake of all involved. A dark alley in the center of Burgess, Pennsylvania, was no place for a dragon, especially not the one that lived inside of Steele.
She moved again, swinging that knife until she’d sliced the guy’s good wrist and across his belly. Superficial wounds, but enough to have him bending over and howling. In that moment Steele decided to act, regardless of the personal war going on within him. Uncurling his fingers to see that claws had already begun to press through the human nailbeds, he bit back a curse of surprise and made the hasty decision to blow a bit of dream dust in the guy’s direction. Dude’s painful yowls ceased as he fell back onto the ground, out for the count.