by Tami Lund
“You fucking bastard.” Ketu’s vision blurred and then became clear, almost painfully so. The colors were so bright, he patted the front of his shirt, searching for his sunglasses. Maria was sobbing, and though a minute ago it had been a quiet, background noise, now it sounded as though she were crying into a stethoscope. He scratched at his face, trying to dislodge the instrument from his ear.
Someone chuckled. Darius, maybe? Why was it so loud?
“Well?” Darius’s face swam into Ketu’s line of vision, shifting and moving like he was underwater.
Was he? Were they both?
Ketu sucked in a deep breath. No water filled his lungs.
The overly bright, white room changed, shifting like a kaleidoscope. The colors became darker and darker, until everything was black. He squeezed his eyes shut and then opened them again.
“Eulalie?”
She stood before him, shimmering much like Darius had been. Maybe they were the ones underwater and Ketu was on the other side of the glass that contained them.
Wait, his sister was underwater? She couldn’t breathe. She’d drown!
“Eulalie!” He clamored to his feet, reaching out as he staggered toward her, determined to rescue her.
You need to find a new line of work.
But he had. He was a carpenter in his new colony. Wasn’t he?
He didn’t rescue people. He wasn’t good at it. He’d failed Eulalie, and now he was failing Antoinette. And Henri. And his parents. And Gabe.
Who was Gabe?
Hell, he was failing everyone.
He managed to form words. “I can’t.”
“Darius, look at him. How could you?” A female voice drifted through the psychedelic haze, followed by a crack, like a slap of skin on skin, and a cry of pain.
Ketu tried to look around, but nothing made sense. Shapes floated around—maybe a dragon? A dragon in human form. Why?
Where was he?
Something wrapped around his arm and lifted him to his feet. “All right, Great Savior, time to go. Let’s see what your reputation is like after I send you wandering the streets, high as fuck.”
A sound, like a chuckle except ten times louder, accompanied those words.
Ketu moved, but his feet weren’t really carrying him. A burst of light dimmed all the moving colors and he winced, lifting his hands to protect his eyes like he was a vampire.
Shit, was he about to fry like one too?
“Go on,” someone said. “Go home.”
More amplified chuckling, and then a door slammed. Ketu winced. Damn, somebody needed to turn down the volume in his head.
And the brightness. The colors around him vibrated, like he was at a concert, standing in front of one of the speakers. Blood red, citrusy orange, lemon yellow…gods, he was starved.
Food.
Ketu shuffled forward until his foot found a ledge. And then he went over, tumbling down a set of steps until he was flat on his back on a thick blanket of—what was this stuff? It smelled good, like the outdoors. It was green, kind of prickly and abrasive, yet soft.
That made no sense.
Not that anything else going on did, either.
Laughter reached his ears, so loud his clenched teeth vibrated. Ketu tried to focus on where it was coming from. Three dragons, all wavering, again, like they were underwater. In human form.
How was it everyone could breathe underwater all of a sudden?
He struggled to his feet and staggered away from the sound. He bumped into something sturdy and huge and covered in course skin. No, bark. A tree? Where had that tree come from? Had it grown out of the ground that fast? Because it hadn’t been there a minute ago.
Had it?
Shaking his head, Ketu altered his path and began moving again. He needed to get home.
He needed Antoinette.
Chapter 8
Antoinette methodically lined up the freshly washed pint glasses on the shelf under the bar, prepping for the evening crowd. Mitch’s usually saw a steady lunchtime crowd, but the bar made the bulk of its income from happy hour until closing each night.
She’d come into work shortly after leaving the hotel where Ketu was staying. Speaking of Ketu, where the hell had he gone in such a rush?
She didn’t like this itchy feeling under her skin. It reminded her of the night Eulalie died. She’d felt…weird then, too, and as it turned out, she’d been right to be concerned.
The dishwasher, who, like Antoinette, had lost someone to the lure of dragon’s blood, pushed through the swinging door leading into the kitchen and placed another rack of pint glasses on the bar.
“Mitch here yet?” Antoinette asked. The owner was due to arrive any minute. Normally, she stayed through the happy hour rush and then headed home to tuck Henri into bed. A third bartender, who was a night owl, closed with Mitch most nights.
“Just got here,” the kid said with a grunt, and then headed back into the kitchen.
Antoinette cornered Mitch while he hung his coat on a hook on the back of the door to his office. He took one look at her face and said, “What’s wrong?”
She glanced at her phone. Which was pointless since Ketu didn’t have her number and he probably wouldn’t text her if he did. “I don’t know. I just have a weird feeling.”
“About Henri?”
She shook her head. “Ketu.”
"Eulalie’s brother? Didn’t he disappear shortly after she died?”
“Yeah, and now he’s back. I’m not sure why. Something to do with gargoyles and witches. Anyway, he said he was going somewhere earlier today but wouldn’t tell me where.”
“And now you’re worried about him.”
She chewed on her bottom lip. “Yes. I don’t know why. I mean, he didn’t indicate whatever he was doing was dangerous or anything.”
“I’ll be fine, Antoinette. I promise.” Those had been his parting words. Nothing strange about that. A fairly common way to say goodbye.
So why this overwhelming urge to go check on him, like she did with Henri, every single night before she went to bed? Like she needed to see for herself that Ketu really was okay.
Mitch cocked his head and studied her face. “Something you need to tell me?”
You mean, something like, oh by the way, Eulalie’s brother is my fated mate? “No. I don’t know. I just…”
“Go,” Mitch said, shooing at her. “I’ll handle the bar. You need to go find that boy, make sure Darius Redd didn’t do something to him.”
She didn’t ask why he thought Darius Redd might be behind whatever was making her so damn twitchy. “Thanks, Mitch. I owe you,” she called out as she rushed from the bar.
A few blocks down the road, as she passed the wrought iron gates of one of New Orleans’s many visually stunning cemeteries, a shift in the air that indicated magic was being used brought all her senses to attention. She kicked up her pace while her gaze darted every which way. Despite her vigilance, when the gargoyle stepped into her path, she let out a startled yelp and stuttered to a halt.
The man had the square jaw and wide shoulders and sharply defined features that were indicative of his species. His coarse, black hair was closely cropped and a thin mustache and goatee encircled his lips.
There was concern in his dark eyes.
“You are searching for Ketu,” he stated.
Her eyes widened. “How…”
“Something is terribly wrong,” the stone man said.
Antoinette’s heart began beating like a hummingbird’s wings.
“He passed by here perhaps twenty minutes ago.” He nodded at the path Antoinette was taking. Ancient trees extended their naked, gnarled branches over the street on the next block, which was already shadowed thanks to the setting sun.
“Is he…?”
“Alive? Yes. But not in his right head.”
“What do you mean?”
He nodded again. “Go. He needs you.”
He needs me? Antoinette almost snorted. Ketu di
dn’t need her. He didn’t need anyone. He’d proved that when he’d run to the other end of the country to escape from his past.
“Thank you,” Antoinette said, and then she hurried toward the ominous-looking street. Not that she was afraid of the dark or the shadows.
She was afraid of what she’d see when she found Ketu.
Her dragon prowled in her head, restless, eager to ensure Ketu was okay.
You sure got hooked quick, she said to the beast.
Duh.
Antoinette shook her head.
The overgrown bush to her left shuddered, and a body emerged from its depths. Antoinette stared as a man staggered toward the sidewalk, holding out his arms. He was covered with foliage, and his face and arms had multiple bleeding scratches. His left eye was swollen and bruised.
“Ketu?”
He swung around like a drunken man and blinked rapidly before his dilated, bloodshot eyes widened. “Antoinette.” He said her name like a prayer. Like he’d been desperately searching for her.
Like he needed her.
What he needed was a kick in the ass.
“Why?” she asked. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe these were signs of a concussion. Maybe—
He lurched forward and she automatically took a step back. What was he doing?
“Stop moving,” he commanded, his eyes on her, although they didn’t appear to be actually looking at her. “The water shifts too much when you move.”
The water?
A memory bubbled up from her subconscious. Eulalie when she’d been tripping on dragon’s blood. In the beginning, before she’d gotten addicted and had become a shell of the girl she used to be.
“Oh gods,” Antoinette whispered, her eyes going wide as she stared at the man she never, ever would have expected to try that evil drug. This definitely wasn’t a concussion. “What have you done?”
He moved forward and flapped his arm; it was apparent he couldn’t see. When his hand landed on her shirt, he tore through the fabric, leaving her sleeve a shredded mess. She grabbed his appendage and lifted it to eye level. “You’re partially shifted,” she said, staring at the claws protruding from the end of his arm. “How long have you been like this?”
“Tried to shift. Thought it would make this go away.” He swiped at the air like he was swatting at a cloud of gnats. “But my dragon wouldn’t respond.”
“Your dragon wouldn’t…” The dragon and the man—or woman—were the same being. Well, in truth, it was like having two minds in one body, but the dragon always responded to the call to shift. Always.
Except, apparently, when the body was high on dragon’s blood.
Ketu swung his arm and managed to get it around her neck without stabbing her with his talons. He pulled her close and croaked, “Help me. Don’t let me go.”
“Okay, okay.” She gave him a reassuring pat on the back. “You need to let go of the shift.”
He whipped his head from side to side, a toddler about to have a tantrum. “I’m drowning. Or you are. Everybody is. I can breathe, but we’re under water.”
She pursed her lips and clenched her teeth. “No, we aren’t. That’s the drug. It messes with your senses, makes you see the world through a kaleidoscope.”
“Yes,” Ketu said, nodding like an eager puppy. “Exactly. This is fucked up, Antoinette. I’m so glad you’re here. I can’t do this without you.”
“Do what?”
“This.” He released her to flap his hand—well, claw—but the action set him off balance and he started to fall forward. He grabbed onto her and she staggered under his weight as she tried to keep them both upright.
Like sister, like brother. She ought to leave his sorry ass here to work this out on his own.
We need to find out what’s going on, her dragon said.
Seems pretty obvious to me, Antoinette retorted.
Does it?
Damn it, it really didn’t. Sure, Ketu had been gone for ten years, but she couldn’t believe he was the type to try dragon’s blood. Yeah, clearly she had more faith in him than he did in her.
So apparently she was going to help him. Which meant she needed to get him someplace where he could safely ride out this high. Eventually, when the drug burned through his system, he’d crash. He was going to be a hot mess for the next twelve hours, at least.
She was definitely not taking him to his parents’ house. They didn’t need to see him like this.
“Okay,” she said, pulling her phone out of her pocket. “Let’s get you back to your hotel room.”
***
They made it back to his hotel, Antoinette reassuring the Uber driver that Ketu’s claws were actually part of a costume, and luckily, with Mardi Gras only weeks away, the man hadn’t questioned the authenticity of the scales that bled into skin on his arms.
When they reached his room, Ketu wiggled like a damn child as she dug his keycard out of his pants. She huffed out a breath. She’d never been good as the designated sober person in the group. The few times she’d gone to Mardi Gras parades with friends, she’d been far too tempted to leave them passed out in the gutter. The street sweepers would be along soon enough to nudge them awake and send them on their way.
“You need to sleep it off,” she said, pushing him over the threshold. “I’ll come check on you in the morning.”
“No. I need you. Please.”
This was different than it was with her friends. Ketu had always been strong, in control, for as long as she’d known him. For him to tell her he needed her…
Not to mention, he was her mate even if they hadn’t yet talked about it. She supposed that made her responsible for him. The worst part was, she wanted to help.
Please don’t let this be like Eulalie. There had to be a damned good reason why Ketu—of all dragons—would take dragon’s blood. There had to be.
“You’re going to owe me,” she warned him as she stepped into the room and pulled the door closed.
He slumped onto the bed and let his talons fall between his knees. “I don’t like this,” he mumbled.
“Me neither.” She pulled a bottled water out of the mini fridge, unscrewed the cap. “Take a deep breath and try to relax.”
He sucked in air and then blew it out in a whoosh. His claws shimmered, flashing between dragon talons and human hands.
“That’s it,” Antoinette encouraged, massaging his shoulder. She kept it up until the magic finally released and his hands returned to normal.
She offered him the water and he chugged until it was empty and then sighed gustily. “Thanks.”
He was starting to sound lucid, which meant he was probably going to crash soon. After the shakes and getting sick, he would likely pass out for hours.
“Do you think you can take a shower? You’re covered in dirt and leaves and grass stains.”
“Can you help me?”
Ugh. Why had she even suggested it? Although, with him in this state, she wasn’t remotely lusting after him, so she should be able to get through this without doing something stupid, right?
“C’mon.” She grabbed his hands and pulled him to his feet. Like a submissive child he let her lead him to the bathroom. “Okay, strip.”
“Yes, ma’am.” She turned her back when he grasped the hem of his shirt.
“Can’t,” he said after a few seconds.
She glanced over her shoulder. He’d gotten the polo partially over his head, with one arm stuck at an odd angle while the other waved around without actually doing anything productive. With a sigh, she turned around and commanded him to stop moving, and then she tugged the shirt over his head and dropped it on the floor.
Sharp plains and valleys, hard muscle covered by smooth, dark skin greeted her eyes. Oh great, the lust was back.
“Thanks,” he said. “Can you get these, too?” He motioned at his crotch.
Antoinette shook her head. “Do you have any idea how frustrating this is?” She reached for the snap on his jeans.
“
Yep.” His nod was succinct. “Crazy frustrating.”
He stood still while she worked his jeans down his legs. Well, most of him was still, anyway. That cock her dragon was so impressed by was swelling at an alarming rate.
Finally, finally, his pants were pooled on the floor at his feet. She pointed at the shower stall. “Get in.”
He was far more obedient high than she imagined he’d ever be sober.
When he stood inside the tile and glass enclosure, she flipped on the spray, He squealed when the cold water hit him. “Calm down,” she said. “It’ll warm up in a minute.”
She’d been studiously avoiding looking at him, but when he didn’t respond, she finally let her gaze stray toward Ketu. His eyes were closed, his head bowed, one hand pressed against the tiles while the other was on the glass, and he stood under the spray, unmoving, other than his chest rising and falling in a steady motion.
Gods, he’s beautiful.
Once she was satisfied with the temperature, she closed the glass door. “Okay, I think you can take it from here.”
“Don’t leave.”
Was he deliberately torturing her?
“I just…don’t want to be alone right now.” He paused again, and then added, “She’s in my head.”
“Who?”
“Eulalie.”
“Oh.” Shit. Antoinette was fully aware of how miserable those experiences were, even though hers had never been under the influence of drugs. But she’d had plenty of nightmares in which Eulalie played the starring role. It probably wasn’t any easier to deal with when you were awake and your mind was fucked by drugs.
Antoinette sat on the toilet.
“I’m sorry,” Ketu said. She wasn’t facing him, but she could hear sounds that she assumed meant he was washing himself.
“Why’d you do it?” she asked.
“Didn’t.”
She snorted. “Ketu, you’re higher than a damn kite. You obviously took dragon’s blood.”
“No,” he insisted. “I mean, yes. But no.”
Yeah, that made a hell of a lot of sense.
“It’s starting to wear off,” he said.
“Good. Although you’re going to feel like hell for the next day or so.”