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Burned by Darkness

Page 6

by Alexandra Ivy


  He didn’t want any male near his female.

  “It’s too dangerous,” he chided. “We need to be away from here.”

  “It will only take a minute.” She held his gaze, forcing herself to say the magic word. “Please.”

  Baine swallowed a curse.

  He could easily compel her to go with him. With one burst of power could open a portal and have her pulled through before she could protest.

  So why didn’t he?

  That question didn’t have an easy answer.

  “You have five minutes,” he snapped, pointing a warning finger at the gargoyle. “You touch her and I’ll rip off your wings.”

  With his warning delivered he headed down the stairs, carrying Tayla’s suitcase.

  Just like he was some damned bellboy, he realized in disgruntled disbelief.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Tayla watched as Baine grudgingly headed down the stairs.

  She hadn’t actually expected him to give her the time she’d requested. Baine was a dragon who gave orders; he didn’t take them. Now she sucked in a deep breath.

  Blessed goddess. Being near Baine was like standing in the center of an electrical storm. She felt scorched from head to toe.

  And not in a bad way.

  “A little possessive, is he not?” Levet murmured.

  Tayla shrugged, feeling a blush touch her cheeks at Levet’s speculative gaze.

  “He’s a dragon and he believes I’m a part of his hoard,” she said.

  “And that’s all?”

  It was, of course. Even if a small part of her wished…

  No. She wasn’t going to go there.

  Not ever.

  “Isn’t that enough?” she demanded.

  “Perhaps.”

  She gave a shake of her head. She didn’t want to discuss the fact that she was nothing more than dragon booty.

  “Look, I’m sorry, but I’m going to be gone for a while,” she confessed. “If you don’t fear the trolls then you’re welcome to continue your dating service here.”

  Levet gave an offended sniff. “I fear no trolls.”

  “Good.” She allowed a wry smile to touch her lips. She truly was going to miss this tiny demon. “I’d like to think you were here to take care of the house.”

  “Non,” he protested, his wings flapping. “I am going to find a means of rescuing you from that unpleasantly rude dragon.”

  She was shaking her head before he finished speaking. “It’s impossible.”

  “Fah.” He gave a wave of one clawed hand. “Impossible is not a word I comprehend, ma belle. Have I not told you that I am a certified KISA?”

  Tayla frowned. She’d become fairly proficient in Levet-speak, but this was a new one.

  “KISA?”

  “Knight In Shining Armor.”

  Ah. Of course. She swallowed a small chuckle.

  “I don’t doubt your…skills, but this is a matter of honor. I have to stay with Baine until he choses to release me.”

  “I do not understand.”

  “My father, Odel, owed the trolls money,” she reluctantly admitted. “A lot of money.”

  “So…mon dieu.” Levet’s tail snapped around his feet as he realized what she was saying. “It is your father’s debt to pay,” he protested.

  She felt a familiar stab of resignation. Odel was an expert in screwing up his life and expecting someone else to suffer the consequences.

  “He paid it with me.”

  “You are saying Odor—”

  “Odel,” she corrected.

  “Odel,” Levet muttered in disgust. “He used you to settle his gambling debts?”

  She gave a reluctant nod. “Yes.”

  Levet’s wings drooped. “Please do not do this, ma belle.”

  As if she had a choice?

  Tayla abruptly grimaced. Dammit. There were few things she hated more than those who wallowed in self-pity.

  She’d made the decision to honor the debt.

  She wasn’t going to moan and groan about it now.

  “I have to go. I’ll return as soon as I can.”

  She reached out to gently touch one of the stunted horns before she headed down the stairs. Following the tiny shockwaves of power that pulsed through the air, she found Baine waiting for her on the porch, her suitcase in one hand.

  On the point of joining him, her feet came to an abrupt halt as she caught sight of the tiny figurine that’d been busted when the trolls had forced their way into her home.

  With a sound of distress, she bent to gently gather the shattered pieces off the floor.

  It wasn’t a masterpiece. In fact, it was a cheap trinket from some fairy celebration. But it was one of her mother’s few possessions that her father hadn’t sold over the years.

  Which made it priceless to her.

  There was a brush of warm air wrapping around her before Baine was standing at her side, his voice unexpectedly gentle.

  “It can be repaired.”

  “I suppose,” she muttered, setting the pieces on a nearby table.

  She would deal with the destruction later.

  Straightening, Tayla was caught off guard when Baine brushed his fingers over her cheek, capturing a stray tear that she didn’t even know was sliding down her face.

  “You seem…sad,” he accused, his voice rough as if angered by her emotional reaction.

  Tayla sniffed, her gaze moving to the door that was hanging at a drunken angle.

  “I should have known better than to try and create a home,” she muttered, talking more to herself than the dragon studying her with a brooding gaze. “Every time I do it only leads to disappointment.”

  His fingers aimlessly drifted to outline her lips. “Your father didn’t provide you with a nest?”

  She gave a lift of her shoulder. “He tried on occasion, but he spent most of our time on the run from his bookies.”

  His touch heated against her skin, as if he was struggling to contain his dragon-fire.

  “Worthless creature.”

  “It doesn’t matter.” She squared her shoulders. Hadn’t she just promised herself she wasn’t going to give in to self-pity? “Not any more.”

  “You’re under my protection now,” he growled, grasping her chin to tilt back her head. His amber gaze scorched over her face with blatant possession. “Unlike your father, I will always make sure you’re safe.”

  She shivered. But it wasn’t fear.

  No. The delicious tremors were in direct response to the strong arms that were abruptly wrapping around her to tug her against his hard, half-naked body.

  “Even from yourself?” she breathed.

  His arms tightened as his head lowered. “I cherish my treasures,” he assured her, his lips skimming over her forehead, then down the length of her nose.

  A groan was wrenched from her throat as his hands cupped her backside and he tugged her tight against his thickening cock. His lips brushed her cheeks, then over her mouth before skimming the length of her jaw.

  Each tiny caress set off a series of sparks that raced through her with dizzying pleasure.

  Mmm.

  Her fingers landed on the bare skin of his chest and treacherous desire curled through the pit of her stomach. He was heat and raw male power.

  She didn’t know if he actually cherished her, but he certainly knew how to make her smolder with need.

  Dragon-magic…

  His clever mouth explored along the line of her throat, searing the skin over her racing pulse before heading down to the curve of her breasts.

  “Baine,” she choked out as her nipples tightened to painful nubs and moisture gathered between her legs.

  She wanted to use the tip of her tongue to trace every fascinating tattoo that danced over his skin. She wanted to skim her hands over the chiseled muscles that made him look as if he’d been sculpted by an artist. She wanted him to lift her onto the nearby table. To spread her legs so he could step between them and ease the u
nbearable ache.

  But even as the X-rated fantasies flared through her mind, she was forcing herself to remember that Levet was upstairs and they were standing in the middle of an open doorway.

  With a satisfying groan, Baine was lifting his head, staring down at her with a brooding gaze.

  “You’re right,” he muttered, a startling color blooming along the line of his prominent cheekbones. “This is not the place.”

  She studied his beautiful face as he wrapped his fingers around her wrist and made a slashing motion with his free hand.

  Was he embarrassed?

  That seemed…unlikely.

  Baine was one of the most lethally gorgeous creatures to ever walk the earth. Women no doubt tossed themselves at his feet. Not to mention the fact that he had harems filled with countless courtesans.

  Why would he be bothered by a few kisses?

  She on the other hand, had every reason to be shamed by her response. The man was her captor. He was forcing her to become his concubine.

  It didn’t seem right to be considering how quickly she could get him naked so she could finish what he’d started.

  A thick darkness surrounded them as Baine tugged her into his waiting portal, then, without warning, they were stepping into bright sunlight.

  She blinked, lifting her hand to shade her eyes as she took in their new surroundings. Her breath locked in her lungs.

  It was magnificent.

  Truly magnificent.

  In a daze, she allowed her gaze to take in the rolling meadows filled with wildflowers that danced on the slight breeze. In the distance she could see the silhouette of mountains capped with snow, and the sparkle of sunlight reflecting off a nearby lake. But it was the small cottage with a thatched roof that was directly in front of her that captured and held her attention.

  It was perfect.

  Painted a pristine white with green shutters, it was framed with daisies and pretty pink tulips. A flagstone pathway led from the terraced porch toward the narrow road where Tayla was standing. Heck, it even had a picket fence.

  It screamed ‘Home’ with a capital H.

  “What is this place?” she breathed.

  Baine stood at her side. Close enough to wrap her in his comforting heat, but not touching her.

  A shame.

  No. Bad Tayla, she silently chastised herself. There was no lusting over the yummy dragon.

  “Your fantasy,” he answered, his dark brows arching as a blush stained her cheeks.

  Damn. He couldn’t read her fantasies, could he?

  “Mine?” she squeaked.

  “My magic will conform our surroundings to the desires of my guests.”

  She blinked, her attention returning to the cottage. He was right. It was like something out of her dreams. The quaint sort of place where an imp could live in peace.

  “It’s an illusion?” She couldn’t hide her faint pang of disappointment.

  “No. It’s real.” He stepped forward to push open the gate that was bordered by roses. “Just a matter of perception.”

  Okay. That made sense. Sort of.

  “But where are we?” she pressed.

  “We’re hidden between dimensions.” He glanced around, as if as if to make sure they were alone. “No one should be able to track us here.”

  His assurance reminded her of their abrupt departure.

  “Why did we have to leave your lair?”

  “A story for later.” With a hypnotizing grace, he turned and without warning scooped her off her feet and cradled her against his chest. His very bare, very lickable chest. “You’re tired,” he announced.

  She shivered. She was never going to get used to the electric tingles that raced through her when this male was near.

  “Are you asking me or telling me?” she demanded in wry tones.

  He carried her up the flagstone pathway and onto the porch. “I can sense your weariness.”

  On cue her head dropped against his chest, her muscles aching.

  She had no idea what time it was, but it felt like an eternity since she’d been slipping on her nightgown and preparing for bed.

  “It’s been a long night,” she conceded in weary tones.

  “Yes.”

  There was a strange tingle in the air, then abruptly the sun disappeared and they were standing beneath a velvet black sky spangled with distant stars.

  Holy crap.

  “That’s quite a trick,” she muttered, impressed in spite of herself.

  “It’s only one of many,” he smugly claimed, lowering his head to halt her response with his dragon-kisses.

  A good thing.

  She fully intended to tell him that he was an arrogant ass.

  Instead, she signed beneath the melting pleasure of his kiss as the exhaustion she’d been battling for the past few hours slowly won the war.

  ###

  Unlike many mongrels, Craven could pass as human.

  His face was square with bluntly carved features, and his blond hair was buzzed close to his skull.

  True, he stood nearly seven foot tall, and had thick slabs of muscles that meant he had to have his T-shirts and jeans custom tailored. And his eyes flashed crimson when he was pissed off. Which was most of the time.

  But most people assumed he was one of those steroid-crazed gym addicts who wore his wraparound sunglasses 24/7 because he thought it made him look cool.

  Idiots.

  For years he’d lived among them, being tutored by his mother in the art of black magic. She’d devoted her life to training him to kill the monsters who’d captured her when she was barely more than a child, and raped her. The fact that Craven was a product of that violent encounter only made the thought of revenge all the more sweet for his mother.

  Craven had agreed.

  Besides the powerful magic, he devoted himself to honing his fighting skills. By the time he was in his early twenties he was proficient in killing with every known weapon, not to mention his bare hands.

  He was a lethal assassin who stalked the demons and destroyed them without mercy.

  It wasn’t until his mother’s death that he’d doubted his ruthless quest.

  As much as he enjoyed hunting demons, it didn’t exactly pay the bills. What human agency was willing to pay for the very fine troll head collection he had mounted on his wall? Hell, humans didn’t even realize they were mere cattle being stalked by predators that lurked in the shadows.

  That’s when he’d made the decision to organize a small band of fellow half-breeds who had skills similar to his own, and began hiring out their services to the highest bidder.

  Assassins, who would kill anyone or anything for the right price.

  It was a well-paying gig, but still Craven wasn’t satisfied.

  He wanted the big score. The one that would allow him to retire and live in the luxury he intended to become accustomed to.

  It was a dream that had been destined to remain unfulfilled until twenty years ago when his top lieutenant, Reece, overheard a drunken troll bragging that he knew how to sneak into a dragon’s hoard.

  Craven wasn’t stupid. He knew there was a good possibility the troll was blowing smoke out his ass. It was common knowledge that trolls liked to brag. But if there was even an off chance that the demon was telling the truth, it was worth the bother of kidnapping the creature.

  Unfortunately, Skragg had proved to be a less than successful partner-in-crime. The troll claimed he knew of an imp who could help them, but so far he hadn’t managed to produce the elusive fey. The only thing he’d been able to offer was a few strands of the imp’s hair that Craven had used to cast his scrying spell.

  Over the years, Craven had nearly forgotten about the damned thing. Until the spell had abruptly activated the day before.

  Now he stood at the top of the stone staircase of the abandoned castle on the Norwegian-Swedish border, looking down at the troll who had just entered the great hall along with Craven’s lieutenant, Reece.
/>   The large beast lumbered forward, his naked body covered by a thick brown skin and his features even more grotesque than most of his brethren. He had large tusks that protruded from his lower jaw and crimson eyes that shimmered in the torches that lined the paneled walls.

  Reece, on the other hand, was a slender male who was half-fairy. He had long black hair that he kept pulled from his narrow face in a long braid. His features were delicate, which might have caused trouble among Craven’s rough and ready gang of outlaws if it wasn’t for the cold glitter in the green eyes.

  Reece could kill as easily he breathed. And often did.

  He also provided the portals the assassins used to travel around the world.

  Keeping his gaze locked on the troll who came to an awkward halt at the bottom of the stairs, Craven planted his hands on his hips.

  “Skragg,” he said, his eyes narrowing. “Where’s the female?”

  The troll gave a shake of his massive head. “She no there.”

  “Impossible,” Craven snapped. “The spell was triggered.”

  “She no there,” Skragg repeated.

  Trolls. Fluent in zero languages.

  He turned to study his lieutenant who was shivering in the crisp morning air despite his long leather jacket. His fey blood preferred warm weather.

  “Reece?” he demanded.

  “Our incoherent friend is right,” the fairy said, his expression hard with frustration. “The imp had disappeared by the time we reached her house.”

  Craven muttered a foul curse. He’d waited twenty years to get his hands on the imp and these two idiots had walked away just because she wasn’t in the first place they searched?

  “Why the fuck didn’t you follow her trail?” he snapped.

  “She left through a portal,” Reece said. “It was impossible to track her.”

  Well, damn.

  “Do you believe she will return?”

  The younger male shrugged. “I suspect the house is her current lair.”

  “Then you will keep a watch on the place until she returns,” he instantly commanded.

  It was a waste of Reece’s considerable talents to be stuck on a mindless stakeout, especially since they didn’t have a clue where the female had gone or when she would return.

  But there was no way in hell he was going to risk losing the opportunity to get his hands on a dragon hoard.

 

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