Dragon Mated: Sexy Urban Fantasy Romance (Prince of the Other Worlds Book 4)

by Kara Lockharte

  Damian took a shuddering inhale, feeling a fresh pang of loss as he stroked a hand down the cat’s soft back. “I know.”

  “Hey, so,” Sammy began, from her spot beside Andi on the couch, with the Investigation Discovery channel playing in their background. “Is your man avoiding me?”

  Andi looked at her roommate over the Ben and Jerry’s she’d been sincerely eating for dinner. “No. Why do you ask?” Andi knew she’d been lucky. She and Sammy had been on opposite schedules for a while now—Sammy out on dates or Andi asleep—but she should’ve known this moment was coming and prepared.

  “Because. I want to know when I get those drives.” Sammy grinned at her. “I bet he’s scared of me crashing his fancy-ass car.”

  Andi gave her a tight smile. “Probably!” she agreed.

  “Although, I bet he’s insured out the wazoo,” Sammy went on, considering. Then she stared at Andi, and realized Andi wasn’t frozen on the couch just because of her ice cream. “Wait a minute,” Sammy started.

  “I can explain everything,” Andi tried, even though she couldn’t.

  “Did you guys break up?” Sammy asked, each word rising in volume.

  “Yes,” Andi answered slowly.

  “And you didn’t tell me?”

  Andi took the longest inhale of her life. What was there to tell? Girl meets dragon, girl’s family hates dragons, girl breaks dragon’s heart? “Also, yes.”

  “Wait. What?” Sammy blew air through pursed lips at her, clearly stunned by her betrayal. “I’m torn between being really pissed about you not telling me and wanting to know what happened, and I’m not sure what to yell about first.”

  “Well, at least you’re honest,” Andi said. “Unlike me,” she added, before Sammy could for her. Sammy held out her hand, and Andi passed the ice cream over with the spoon, taking a savage scoop of it before twirling the spoon in midair to indicate Andi should go on.

  “We, uh, had some differences. I guess.”

  “Uh-uh. Not good enough. Phone,” Sammy said. Andi reluctantly pulled out her phone and queued up Damian’s number, handing it over. Sammy held the spoon in her mouth while she scrolled back.

  “Don’t go too far or you’ll see things you don’t wanna see,” Andi warned.

  “If you’re broken up, why’s he still texting you?” Sammy asked, talking around the spoon like it was a cigar. “What’s this ‘alive’ shit? Is he suicidal or something?”

  “It’s hard to explain. Really. But…he’s not in my life anymore, Sammy. And neither is his car,” Andi explained while Sammy scrolled. She watched her roommate’s eyes widen. She’d gone too far, for sure, and seen the photo of Damian’s hand and then she turned off Andi’s phone.

  “Are you all right?” Sammy asked, handing the phone back with a frown.

  She wanted to lie again to Sammy, but the thought was more than she could bear. “Not really, no,” she admitted.

  Sammy set the ice cream down and wrapped Andi against her side, and they watched the rest of their TV show while the ice cream melted—Andi content to be held in the safety of her best friend’s arms. She’d done so much quiet crying in the shower over the past few weeks she didn’t have any tears left in her, just a seemingly bottomless pit of sorrow that followed her like her shadow. She felt on the verge of falling in all the time despite her best efforts to avoid it.

  But it was what it was, and as long as Damian was still alive, she knew she’d be okay.

  “We’re going out tomorrow,” Sammy announced, her chin placed on Andi’s head protectively.

  “You and Mister PhD?” Andi guessed forlornly.

  “No, you, me, and Eumie.”

  Andi’d been avoiding Eumie as well. “They might have plans.”

  “They’ll break them for you. I can’t believe you’ve been suffering a breakup alone.”

  “We weren’t together very long.” It just felt like they had. It felt like everything.

  “Shut up and let me be nice to you, you stupid, stubborn girl,” Sammy said. “I swear, sometimes you’re just like Danny.”

  Andi sighed into Sammy’s arms. “Not really.”

  Andi made it through work that night on autopilot, then went straight to bed when she got home, because she knew Sammy was a woman of her word, and sure enough, the soft knocking at her door started at 5:05.

  “Coffee, dinner, movies,” Sammy announced, when she heard Andi rustling.

  “Gimme twenty,” Andi asked, hiding her face with a pillow. “Although, I don’t need babysitting, Sammy.” Despite the fact that she still hadn’t yet put a fresh pillowcase back on the pillow she was using….

  “Don’t make me fight you,” Sammy threatened, and because Andi knew she meant it, she got up.

  Sammy drove them to Jones and Shah for coffee—which was good and bad. Andi still got free coffee, but she remembered the time Damian had accosted her there, back when she’d been trying to pump David for information about her brother, before she learned that everything about Danny was bad.

  “And you’re sure he wasn’t mean to you?” Eumie asked, having closed the bakery early to join them, and all too ready to join Sammy’s ‘cause Damian physical harm’ brigade. They were looking masc today with heavy denim jeans and a ‘Team Building 1999!’ T-shirt on underneath a flannel jacket.

  “Yes.” Except for the times I wanted him to be mean because it was hot. Andi knew she was going to have to be Wonder Woman to deflect all the questions they were going to pepper her with tonight if she didn’t manage to head them off at the pass. “It was just a doomed thing. From the start. Which, yes, both of you tried to warn me, and I swear next time I’ll try to listen.” She gave her chest a decent Catholic cross.

  “I don’t think I told you it was doomed. In fact, I clearly remember telling you to get some,” Eumie said, with an evil chuckle.

  Sammy glared at the baker. “I might have said the doomed thing? But then I was swayed by the car. I should’ve known though that any man who could afford a Pagani would also be an asshole. The connection between cash and dickery is clear.”

  Eumie offered their coffee up in a silent toast to Sammy, who obliged with hers back. “In any case,” Eumie continued, “let’s figure out what movie we’re going to see.” They grabbed one of the omnipresent local papers and flipped over to the showtimes page, putting it on the table between the three of them.

  “No rom-coms,” Andi begged. “And no action movies, either. Or fantasy. Or sci-fi.”

  Eumie gave her a look. “Is there a genre of movie he didn’t ruin for you?”

  “Foreign films?” Andi guessed. “Wait…no.”

  Sammy closed her eyes, zigged her finger through the air, and planted it on the page. “This is what we’re seeing,” she said, lifting up her finger. “Diary of a Middle-aged Man. The Art Deco House. Seven.”

  Eumie grit their teeth and inhaled sharply. “I can already tell that’s going to suck.”

  “I’m not the one who wants to go,” Andi said, looking pointedly at Sammy.

  “Adventure is misery fondly remembered,” Sammy said, staring the both of them down.

  “What fortune cookie did you get that off of?” Andi asked.

  “None, because you never let us order Chinese,” Sammy said, sticking her tongue out.

  It was true, because nothing that got delivered could begin to compare to the memory of Andi’s mother’s cooking.

  Two and a half hours later, during which Andi had only thought of Damian forty times, so a probable win for Sammy, they were in the back of the theater watching credits roll.

  “Oh, God. That was so bad,” Eumie groaned.

  “Fuck yes, it was,” Andi agreed.

  “I mean,” Eumie went on, “that was like an, ‘Are You There, God, It’s Me, Margaret’ only written, directed, and acted by a forty-year old white man going through a midlife crisis.”

  “That dude was pushing fifty. I don’t know who he thought he was kidding,” Sammy said, moving to
stand behind Eumie. “Honestly, when I went to the bathroom, I thought about not coming back.”

  “If you had ditched us after forcing us to watch a movie bad enough to be covered by the Geneva Convention….” Andi threatened, standing too.

  “I would’ve had to help her murder you, Sammy,” Eumie promised.

  “And no jury would convict. We’d just show them that movie as evidence, and get off scot free.”

  Sammy snickered as Eumie pressed an affronted palm to their chest, the three of them navigating down the aisle. “Where’s my diary? Who’s going to write my story? Any three days in my life have been more interesting than that asshat’s life in its entirety.”

  “I don’t know, Eumie,” Sammy said, matter-of-factually, “have you ever committed adultery with a sexually wise beyond her years student? Did you ever cut the brakes to your wife’s car because you couldn’t be bothered to get a divorce?”

  Eumie pretended to think in the hallway’s brighter light, illuminated by a series of old-timey chandeliers that helped the Art Deco theater live up to its name. “I did sleep around with some wandering heroes. Does that count?”

  Sammy laughed delightedly. “Wandering heroes, eh? I like the sound of that. I’m not having a one-night stand, I’m just a wandering hero.”

  “More like wandering ho,” Andi said, and then danced out of hitting range.

  “You!” Sammy shouted at her, laughing. “I don’t want to hear it from you right now, missy.” She tossed her empty box of Red Vines in the trash. “Go back to being depressed or something.”

  Andi stuck her tongue out at her friend, then rejoined their line. “Don’t worry. I still am.” She heaved a sigh. “It’s gonna take a while for me to get back to ‘wandering ho’ status.” If ever. Damian’s memory was going to eclipse any other man she met…possibly for life. In fact, right now it felt like there was no point in even trying.

  “Wandering ho is a state of mind,” Eumie said with a grin. “And I have faith in you. Because the walls in our building are very thin.” Andi felt herself turning beet red, as Eumie wrapped an arm around her, laughing. “But not tonight.”

  “No. No boys now. Tonight is just hanging out with friends,” Sammy said, wrapping Andi up on the other side. Andi took a moment to relax into their collective safekeeping, even if it involved being teased mercilessly. “Also,” Sammy went on, “I feel like if we’re wandering heroes, we should have a theme song.”

  “Sammy, you know I love you, but you cannot sing,” Andi said. Sammy was fond of early morning shower karaoke, and sometimes there was not enough Ambien in Andi’s bloodstream to sleep through it.

  “Since when has that ever stopped me?” Sammy said, and inhaled to start.

  They turned the corner as one, heading for the small theater’s lobby where they were greeted by another group of ten or so guests, of differing heights and ethnicities, all dressed in black. The only commonality they had were embroidered gold roses on their lapels, and then odd, organically strange pieces of armor or jewelry everywhere else. At seeing her, they snapped to attention and so did Andi.

  Because she realized she knew exactly who they were, especially when the youthful looking Latina woman who’d been seated near her uncle appeared in their midst.

  Hunters.

  Chapter 6

  Sammy’s bad singing stopped in confusion, and Eumie moved to stand in front of both of them, both arms out. “Sammy, go get the car,” they demanded.

  Andi’s stomach fell into the Earth’s core. The Hunters knew who she was, but they didn’t know who the dragon was. Of course, they’d assume it was one of her friends. Andi’d been so busy trying to protect Damian, she’d never thought she was putting anyone else in danger.

  Whatever happened right now was going to be her fault.

  “And Andi…go with her,” Eumie said, putting a strong hand on Andi’s shoulder and shoving her Sammy’s way. Andi knew Eumie’d been to every protest their city had ever had. Of course they could sense trouble brewing.

  Andi rocked with the shove but didn’t go, instead taking point. “Sammy, do what Eumie says, okay?”

  “What the hell?” Sammy protested.

  “Rambunctious!” Andi snapped, using the safe word she and Sammy’d used to indicate that they needed help on dates before she and Damian had perverted it.

  Sammy looked between them, and then ran for the theater doors.

  The Latina woman Andi remembered from her uncle’s meeting strode up, surveying her coolly. The Huntress was wearing much the same outfit as she had on their prior encounter, only with the addition of jarring jewelry, white bone earrings that bobbed as she shook her head. Her forearms were covered in vambraces of some kind of reptilian scale, and at her hip was a sword. “What interesting company you keep, Andrea.”

  “My uncle said I was off limits,” she said. She now hated the man, but she wasn’t above using his protection now.

  “Lamentably, your uncle’s out of town,” the woman told her with a slight accent. “But you’re right. You are off limits. For now. But that doesn’t mean we can’t have other entertainments in the meantime.”

  “My friends are not dragons, okay?” Andi had no idea how she was going to explain all this to Eumie later, and…was Sammy really safe outside? A bolt of bitter fear ran over Andi’s tongue. “So whatever the fuck your plan was for this evening, move along.”

  “Gladly,” the woman said, putting her hand meaningfully on her sword’s hilt. “After we talk with this one,” she said, jerking her chin at Eumie.

  “No.” Andi reached for her pocket. She would fucking call Uncle Lee or Danny and get him to straighten this out if she had to.

  “It’s okay, Andi,” Eumie said, taking a deliberate step forward. “Get in Sammy’s car and go home.”

  “You don’t know these people, and I’m not abandoning you.” Andi scanned past the sea of black shoulders. The kids who’d been manning the concession stand had taken off—probably bribed.

  “That’s where you’re wrong. Everyone knows the Mother of Monsters,” the Latina woman said. “Except, perhaps, you.”

  “Mother of…what?” Andi said, putting herself in the woman’s way while wildly scanning for something she could use as a shield or a weapon.

  “Andi, go.” Eumie said behind her, resting a hand on Andi’s shoulder. Their hand briefly took on greater weight and as Andi looked over at it, she saw Eumie’s strong blunt fingers with short baker’s nails grow lean and elegant…and tipped with claws.

  “What the—” Andi said, and looked back in time to see Eumie unfurling themself upwards, almost like a growing vine. Andi gasped as her friend, whom she’d known for years, became something else entirely. Eumie’s torso slid into a thick snake’s tail with a bold green and gold scale pattern right below their breasts, stretching back for half the length of the lobby, as it held Eumie’s human portion up high.

  “Xochitl,” Eumie said, acknowledging the woman.

  “You will regret not having killed me the last time, Echnida,” the woman said, drawing her sword. It was made of what looked like a curved rib bone and her unlined face was possessed by an expression of unholy glee. “I’ve found the last of Orthrus’s lineage. Did you think you could hide them from me forever?”

  Eumie surged ahead on their strong snake tail. “If you knew where I’d hid them, would you be here?”

  Andi stumbled backward as the woman named Xochitl brought down her sword, and Andi heard the sound of it scraping against Eumie’s scales, as Eumie launched up at a chandelier, whipping their tail in the opposite direction from Andi to catch a brace of Hunters in the chest, knocking them back into a wall.

  “Andi! Go!” Eumie shouted from above, before dropping down and winding back bodily the way they’d come, diving into a theater with all the Hunters hot on their tail.

  Andi’s instinct was to run after them in case there was any way she could help, but thinking quickly, she knew the theater itself would be empty e
xcept for the chairs, and there wouldn’t be anything she could use as a weapon there. She looked around and ran through the saloon doors to the concession stand’s far side and looked around.

  And found…not much. She could throw water bottles at people? Which sounded stupid, listening to the sounds of an intense fight happening down the hall. Fuck. Then she spotted the industrial sized bag of popcorn kernels they refilled the popcorn machine with. She grabbed the corners of the bag and lugged it out the way she’d come, through the saloon doors, to pour it over the lobby’s tile in a golden wave.

  The sounds of fighting became louder as Eumie returned to the lobby, using their snake’s tail to propel themselves at speed, with just Xochitl plus another three Hunters hot behind them. Xochitl was deft enough to stay in the space Eumie’s tail had swept clean, but the others weren’t. Two Hunters went down with head-hitting thunks on the ground, just like cartoon characters, and the third paused, stymied. Andi cheered and then took in Eumie. The baker was bleeding from several gashes on their tail, and an ominous one spreading on their chest just under the “1999!” of their shirt. One of Eumie’s hands was clasped against it, and they were breathing hard as Xochitl advanced.

  “You don’t have to do this!” Andi screamed at Xochitl and started throwing water bottles, which the woman dodged, seemingly without even looking at Andi.

  Eumie spared Andi a wild grin, and Xochitl hacked into the meat of their tail, like her sword was an axe. Eumie bellowed as Andi shouted, sweeping her arms full of every projectile the concession stand had and running back through the saloon doors to pelt them at the other woman, who was in the process of pulling her sword up for another strike. The Hunter at the back of the lobby started mincing forward on the tile, and other Hunters came out of the theater where they’d been fighting, leaning on each other, holding broken arms, helping ones with broken legs limp along, and Andi started throwing water bottles at all of them.

  “Fuck all of you!” Andi said, putting herself into their paths. Eumie lashed their tail safely away as Xochitl raised her sword, leaving a broad stripe of blood on the tile. Andi didn’t know what she was going to do next, but if they were going for Eumie, they were going to have to get through her, and if her brother or uncle thought that she would ever help them after this, much less speak to them again, they were so fucking wrong.