Dante’s Circle Reborn: A Dante’s Circle Collection

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Dante’s Circle Reborn: A Dante’s Circle Collection Page 8

by Carrie Ann Ryan


  Dante wasn’t around when he headed out towards the parking lot, so he didn’t say goodbye to the dragon. He hadn’t seen Poppy behind the bar either. Instead, there was another person there. He figured Poppy must be on break. Or maybe she had run from him like he was doing with her.

  Well, apparently, they were a perfect match, after all. Fate be damned and all that.

  He slid his hands into his pockets and made his way to the car, but then a familiar scent hit his nostrils, and he heard the sound of a scream.

  He growled, his claws ripping through his fingertips as he slid his hands out of his pockets, his jaguar prowling.

  Poppy. That was Poppy’s voice, Poppy’s scent. And he’d be damned if anyone hurt her.

  He ran to the other side of the parking lot where the lights were dimmer, and the shadows crept.

  Three large men surrounded Poppy, the tight coils of their hair sliding in and out of their glamour as their snakes came at her. One had Poppy by the arm, the other by the waist, the third with a dagger in his hand.

  “Let go of her,” Jonah growled, and the three gorgons froze, looking over their shoulders at him.

  “Be gone, animal.”

  “Wrong answer.” He jumped then, fighting like a warrior of old.

  And he was a warrior of old.

  He sliced at the biggest gorgon, getting him in the side and kicking him in the knee at the same time. The gorgon fell, clutching his ribs as blood pooled. But Jonah didn’t pay attention. Instead, he went to the other gorgon, wrapping his arm around the man’s neck and twisting. He didn’t break his neck, didn’t know if he deserved death yet, but he did incapacitate him enough that he passed out.

  Jonah looked towards Poppy, her eyes narrow, silver slits even as she tried to fight off the other man. She punched at him, kicked, but he was bigger. And he was the one with the knife. She didn’t have the skills, and she was young. Too young to learn centuries’ worth of fighting techniques. One day, he would teach her. His mate would fight by his side as a warrior. He pushed that thought from his mind because she wasn’t going to be his mate. He had to remind himself of that.

  And so, he went to the other man and clawed at the gorgon’s back. Before the assailant could slice, Jonah reached out and gripped the gorgon’s wrist, tightly enough that the other man dropped the knife right into Jonah’s hand. And then he stabbed, right into the underbelly of the gorgon. He screamed, and Jonah slid the dagger back out as he looked over at Poppy.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, his jaguar in his voice and his eyes if the glow surrounding them was any indication, blood dripping from his claws.

  Poppy looked at him, her eyes wide.

  In answer, she ran.

  Chapter 2

  Poppy did what she did best.

  She ran.

  Her heart raced, pulsating within the cavity of her chest, and she knew her glamour was fraying at the edges. She couldn’t focus on both at the same time, at least not perfectly, but she did her best. She turned the corner, her feet pounding the pavement as she closed her eyes for a moment so she could focus on the glamour.

  The disguise was what kept her safe. No, that wasn’t right. It was what kept others safe. Because if the glamour fell, her snakes would show. Her little vipers that were death incarnate, but also her. They weren’t her children per se, but they were part of her. It would break her if they were ever hurt, but she also couldn’t let them harm anyone else. That meant she had to be careful. She refused to kill again because of lack of control. She didn’t want to see the life drain out of someone’s eyes as they turned to stone because of who she was.

  She couldn’t let that happen, and that meant she wasn’t going to. She ran her hand over her hair, thankful that the tendrils slid against her palm, not the coolness of her snakes. The glamour made it so she could feel the coarse texture of her hair rather than the snakes themselves.

  And anyone else who touched them would feel the same—not that she wanted anyone to touch her hair without permission. However, she knew they wouldn’t feel the snakes even though they were there…waiting.

  Because they could turn the viewer to stone. Her snakes and her silver eyes.

  There were no contacts invented in all the realms that could protect people from the silver of her stare. Her glamour, however, protected her snakes….and the outside world from their existence.

  Her glamour back in place, she turned the corner, only to freeze as a man jumped from the roof of the building next to her and landed right in her path. She knew him. Had talked to him in the bar. He’d saved her life. But…why? Why would he be here?

  “Poppy? Are you okay?”

  He knew her name. It made sense in a way that he would. He knew Dante and the others. Only the word coming off his tongue worried her. Did something to her.

  She swallowed hard and took a step back. She hadn’t meant to, hadn’t meant to show that weakness. She was just so tired. She’d thought she had found some semblance of peace, but apparently, she’d been wrong. Because how could she be at peace when they would always be searching? She hadn’t even been safe in the lair of a dragon. Where else could she hide? Where else could she run?

  “I’m Jonah. I’m friends with Dante. The man you work for.”

  “I don’t think I’m going to be working there much longer,” she said, the words out before she could stop them. Her job wasn’t the most important thing to mention, after all.

  “Well, we can talk about that later. For now, let’s get you somewhere safe.”

  She shook her head and took another step back.

  His eyes narrowed, and then he lowered his shoulders as if trying to look smaller, less dangerous. Only she didn’t think he could ever look less dangerous.

  “I don’t know if there’re more gorgons around. Clearly, they are after you for a reason, and you’re running. Let me at least get you somewhere safe.”

  “Why?” she asked. Why was he helping her? Why was he here? No one had helped until now. No one until Dante had even given her a job. And now the dragon’s friend was here to help her again? It almost felt like a dream. She was just so tired.

  “You know why.”

  She did, she could feel it. That one instant of eye contact at the bar and she had known. Known that he was hers, just like she could be his. That he could be her happily ever after, her true half, her mate.

  But she didn’t want that. How could she?

  She was death personified, the Grim Reaper in all its glory. Of course, she wasn’t an actual legendary reaper that came from the shadows of time and myth. No, she was a murderer. She was the hand of death.

  “Poppy. We need to go.”

  She shook her head and then froze when she scented the gorgons on the wind. They were coming. They were following her. They would always come for her.

  Because she had broken the most important rule of a Medusa. Honestly, she had broken all the rules in the end. She had no line, no family. She had nothing.

  Except for a job given by a dragon who had taken a chance on her.

  Jonah cleared his throat. “I have a place somewhere close.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t even know you.”

  “You know Dante. You saw me with him. We’re friends. You can trust him. You can trust me.”

  She shook her head again.

  “Then come with me because you know exactly what we are to each other. At least who we have the potential to be. It’s better to be safe under a roof of protection, rather than out here in the open, especially when we don’t know where the gorgons are coming from.”

  Those words got to her more than anything. She didn’t know Jonah, didn’t know this man, this jaguar, but maybe she could figure out what she needed to do from somewhere that wasn’t out in the open. Because she didn’t think she should go back to Dante’s Circle. What if she did and the gorgons followed her? They wanted her dead. They wanted her beheaded, the rest of her body burned. Then they wanted to keep that head on a
spike or perhaps even a silver platter. They wanted her death to be a symbol, to become something of myth and legend.

  The legends had been wrong. Medusa hadn’t been evil, hadn’t been cruel. She had been brutalized. Taken advantage of by the gods who’d once sworn to protect her. And then she had been cast out in sin for the others to remark upon.

  The truth didn’t matter to the other gorgons—didn’t matter to the royal line. They wanted Poppy as their new symbol. They wanted her because of her power, and because of what others couldn’t have.

  She knew that. She knew that was why they had come after her to begin with. And she knew she couldn’t stop them. She hadn’t been able to fix anything, and right now, she needed to figure out what to do.

  Jonah growled, and the sound went straight to places she did not want to think about. She didn’t have time for this. Didn’t have time for feelings or anything that would stop her from running. She was just so tired. That exhaustion made her do the unthinkable. She slid her hand into his and swallowed hard. “Just for a few moments.”

  He nodded tightly and then tugged at her arm. They were running then, Poppy trying to keep up with his much longer stride. He was a jaguar, after all. In shifter form, he would be able to outpace her quite easily. In human form, though, it felt like he was just as fast.

  Gorgons weren’t the best runners in all the realms, nor were they the best athletes. Personally, she was not the best fighter, either. She’d never had cause to learn. Right then and there, she promised herself that she would train. She didn’t want to be helpless. She hated that. But she hadn’t been raised to be a fighter. She had been a scholar, had been someone who thought she’d had a future. She had been wrong.

  “Where are we going?” she panted, annoyed with herself since he wasn’t even the slightest bit out of breath.

  “Somewhere close,” Jonah growled out. He looked over his shoulder, and she knew he wasn’t going to tell her exactly where since someone could overhear. This was insane, trusting someone she didn’t know, but she didn’t have a choice. She needed to figure out how to save herself because hiding and running wasn’t working. Clearly. And so, she moved. She ran.

  They turned the corner and kept going until they found themselves in a quiet neighborhood. Jonah leapt over a fence near the end of one street, and she just blinked at the wooden planks, wondering what the hell he expected her to do.

  And then his face was over the slats, then half of his body, and he held out an arm. “Sorry, I forget that not everybody can jump as high as I can.”

  She didn’t know if he was blushing, couldn’t tell even in the moonlight, but she heard embarrassment in the tone of his voice.

  She jumped as high as she could, and he gripped her hand and then pulled her over with ease. So quickly, in fact, she didn’t even touch the top of the fence as she sailed over it.

  His strength was amazing. She knew that most shifters were that strong, but for some reason, he felt stronger. Or maybe that was just the bond that wanted to flow between them, making her hormones act crazy.

  Jonah got them inside a two-story house, and she looked around the dark home, wondering where she was, and how exactly she had gotten herself into this situation.

  “Let’s not turn on the lights just yet,” he whispered, and she jumped, not realizing that he had gotten so close.

  “Where are we?”

  “My home.”

  “You live here? In the human realm?”

  He shook his head. “No, I don’t live in the human realm at the moment. However, I do have a home here. At my age, it’s good to have backups in case something happens. And it’s always good to have a connection to the human realm. After all, it’s the realm that connects all the others.”

  “At your age?” she asked and felt heat rising in her cheeks.

  Jonah just smiled softly. “I’m a few hundred years old. Not too old for a shifter.” He paused. “How old are you, Poppy?”

  “Twenty-five,” she whispered. So young compared to him, but that didn’t matter in most cases with the supernaturals.

  Jonah let out a harsh breath. “Ah, well, that makes sense.”

  She narrowed her eyes, feeling like she should be insulted. “Why does that make sense?”

  “Because you have no fighting skills whatsoever.”

  Affronted, she frowned. “Hey, I punched.”

  “And you had your thumb in the wrong position. If you had used any strength at all, you would have broken your hand.”

  She scowled, even as she knew she blushed even harder. “I’m not that bad.”

  “You are. But if you want, I can help you.”

  “Why? Why would you do that?”

  “For many reasons.”

  “Tell me.” They had more important things to worry about, but she couldn’t stop this train of thought.

  “How about the fact that I don’t want to see someone get hurt? Or that Dante hired you and, therefore, you’re sort of part of our circle.”

  “Our?” She didn’t want to sound jealous, and that feeling wasn’t for another woman or man. It was for the fact that he actually had a group. She’d seen him laughing with his friends over a drink. She’d tried not to watch, but her gaze had continuously been pulled in his direction. The long, lean lines of his body, the strong line of his jaw. The way he constantly watched the entrance of the bar, a protector at his core. She loved the smoothness of his skin, and the stubble on his face. She had watched him all night, and she had wanted him.

  And she hated herself just a little bit for it. Because she didn’t have time for feelings. She didn’t even know if she deserved those emotions.

  “I’ll also help you because of what we are.”

  There was a pause when she tried to think of what to say. “And, who am I to you?” she whispered.

  “You’re really going to make me say it?”

  She shook her head, knowing one of them needed to say the words. They both knew what pulsed between them. It was a feeling. A knowing. And there was no mistaking it. Not for them, at least. Perhaps for others, but not for them.

  “I’m in no position to find my other half. My mate,” she said quickly, looking down at her hands.

  “I don’t think I’m in that position either.”

  The words were soft, yet she felt as if he’d shouted them, the blow shocking.

  “Oh,” she said, her voice a whisper.

  “But I don’t think anyone is truly looking when it happens, are they?”

  Her gaze shot up.

  “I don’t know what this means, I don’t know what any of this means. But why don’t you tell me first why the gorgons are after you. And why you were hiding in Dante’s bar.”

  “I wasn’t really hiding,” she lied.

  “I’ve been a soldier for over two centuries, almost three. I have seen more war and bloodshed than you could imagine. I know when someone is hiding.”

  Her head snapped up. “Don’t tell me what I can imagine.”

  He nodded. “You’re right. I’m sorry. Humans live but a fraction of our time, and yet they have eons of heartache in those moments. I shouldn’t disregard your feelings because of your age.”

  “Thank you. Because you don’t know what I’ve seen.”

  “Maybe one day you’ll tell me.”

  Maybe one day she would. And perhaps one day she’d figure out exactly why she wanted to tell him. Why she wanted to divulge the secrets that she should hide.

  “You should tell me why the gorgons are after you. It’ll help us figure things out.”

  “By us, do you mean you and me? Because I can do it myself. I’ve been doing just fine on my own.”

  “You have. You’re alive.”

  “Are you placating me?”

  He shook his head. “No, I know. Those three gorgons were strong, warriors of your people. And I’m sure there are probably others after you. Am I right?”

  She nodded.

  “And you have survived. Tha
t counts for so much more than you think.”

  “I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing. I’m just so tired.”

  “I’ve been there. Tired, weary.”

  She swallowed hard, hating the fact that he could understand when she didn’t even get it herself. “How did you get better?”

  “I found a purpose.”

  “And what is that?”

  He smiled then, laughter filling his eyes. It made him even more handsome. “I found a job. I work for the Alpha of the lion realm.”

  Her gaze widened. “Not the jaguars?”

  He shook his head. Sadness washed over him, and she wanted to reach out, but she didn’t know him. She had to remind herself that. She didn’t have that right.

  “Malik has been my friend for over a century, though it feels like far longer. When he needed help protecting his mate and child, I stepped in. I had been on my own for a while. I wasn’t part of the jaguars anymore,” he whispered, and she knew there was more to the story.

  She didn’t have the right to ask just then, though. And, honestly, she wasn’t sure she wanted to. Not only did she want to stay separate from him—as long as she could tell herself there was distance, she would be safe—but she also didn’t want to hurt him. And she had a feeling that asking that would hurt.

  “The Alpha protects his mate, and I help, but my first job, my first duty is to protect Lady Penelope, their daughter.”

  “You protect a child?” She warmed, trying to imagine this rough jaguar soldier with a baby lion cub.

  “Yes, and she has me wrapped around her little finger.” He grinned. “My friends call me a nanny, and I don’t even mind it.”

  She laughed then, and then put her hand over her mouth. She didn’t know she could laugh. She had thought she had forgotten how. And yet, here she was, laughing with this man.

  Who was he? And how had this happened so quickly?

  “Now, tell me. Why are the gorgons after you?”

  She lowered her hand and swallowed hard. “Because I killed someone.”

  His eyes widened marginally, and then he narrowed them. “That can’t be all.”

 

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