Smoke (The Slayer Chronicles Book 1)

by Val St. Crowe

  He sighed. “Maybe.”

  We were quiet for a few moments. Overhead, the stars twinkled.

  I took the wine bottle back. “I get lonely too, you know.”

  “You do?”

  “There’s only ever Gina around, and she’s not really company. She’s more like a problem I have to solve. I hate to say that about my own sister, because I love her. God, I love her more than anything. But sometimes, I just wish she could take care of herself a little bit. But then I wonder what I’d even do with myself if I didn’t have to clean up her messes. I bet I’d sit around in my apartment doing nothing, or I’d go chasing after rogue dragons. I wouldn’t know how to be on my own.”

  “And yet, you are on your own. In some ways, it sounds as if you’ve always been alone,” he said, his voice deep and low.

  I shrugged. “Well, I’m not alone now. You’re here.”

  “That’s right,” he said. “If we had glasses, I’d say we should toast to that.”

  I laughed. I took a drink of wine, and then I handed it to him.

  He took a drink of wine. He breathed in a long, slow breath and let it out. “I hope that everything is okay with Reign. If anything happens to her, I’ll never forgive myself.”

  “We’ll find her,” I said.

  “You know, she said my name before she said Dada or Mama.”

  “Wow,” I said.

  “I’ve always taken care of her,” he said. “I know what you mean about feeling responsible for your sister. But, you know, you don’t have to feel as though you’re alone. I can help you. I really can. I know we’re just working this job together, but after we find Reign, I’d like us to keep in touch.”

  “Okay,” I said. “I’d like that.”

  “And so, any time you need me, you call me,” he said. “I mean it. Any time at all.”

  “Look, I don’t want to get in your way,” I said.

  “You’re not. I’m offering,” he said, setting the wine bottle down on the balcony between us.

  I picked it up, but I didn’t take a drink. “I don’t like to cause extra work for people is all.”

  “You are not extra work,” he said, and he grinned at me.

  And just like that, my heart started thumping. Oh, what the hell was that? Why was I reacting to him in that way? Had I not spent most of the afternoon having it confirmed what an utter bastard he was? Besides, he wasn’t trying to flirt with me. He was trying to be friendly.

  “You know,” he continued, “maybe once we find Reign and she’s home and settled, we could do something else together.”

  “Like what?” I said.

  “Oh, I don’t know. Something to help people. Something that involves your skills and my ability to take my jet all over the place and spend ungodly sums of cash.” He laughed.

  “You have skills too,” I said. “You’re a dragon. You have magic. There’s a lot more to you than just money.”

  “It’s nice of you to say so,” he said. “But I know how you see me, Clarke. You made that clear. You think I’m a rich playboy who doesn’t care about anything except himself.”

  “I never said that.”

  “The way you were reacting this afternoon to my comments on polyamory. You don’t think I’m a very nice person, do you?”

  “I think you’re fine.”

  “Look, I don’t set out to hurt women when I get involved with them. I don’t promise them things. I know you don’t agree with it, but that doesn’t mean I’m a bad guy.”

  I sighed. “You’re not a bad guy, but you handle your love life badly.”

  “Oh, I do?” He snatched up the wine bottle. “And you? You don’t even have a love life. You won’t take any risks.”

  “So, you’re attacking me now?” I said.

  “I’m not attacking you,” he said. He sighed. “Look, it’s coming out all wrong. The thing is, Clarke, I think you’re…”

  “What?” I said. “A prude?”

  He laughed. “No, I wasn’t going to say that. But you did seem pretty overwhelmed with the polyamory stuff.”

  “I’m not overwhelmed,” I said. “They’re nice people. I certainly wouldn’t break up their family. But it’s not for me. I couldn’t do that, what they do.”

  “Me either,” he said.

  “But earlier, you said that you—”

  “Nah, you were right. I don’t know about the long-term aspect of it. I don’t think I want that hanging around my neck.”

  “Never?” I said. “There’s no one you’d want to be with for a long, long time?”

  He licked his lips. He set down the wine bottle.

  “I mean,” I continued. “You care about your sister, right? You wouldn’t get sick of her after a few weeks.”

  “Living with her?” he said. “I might. But I see what you mean. I guess it might not be terrible being with someone. I still… I don’t think…” He peered into my eyes. His voice dropped several decibels. “You know, I haven’t properly thanked you for all the things you’ve done for me.”

  “I’ve screwed everything up!” I said.

  “You haven’t.” He grabbed my hand. His voice was husky. “In some ways, forcing Cunningham’s hand was a good thing. I never would have realized what I could do otherwise. Shifting into a dragon and breathing those fireballs was exhilarating. I didn’t know I was capable of going after the bad guy that way. You’ve showed me a completely different side to myself.”

  I knew I should pull my hand out of his grasp, but I didn’t. I felt shy and small right now. My heart was still pounding away in my chest. I looked into his eyes—his stumbling, haunting blue eyes. “Well, you’re paying me, so that’s thanks enough.”

  He smirked. “Clarke, you have no idea how amazing you are, do you?”

  I blushed. I was glad it was dark, so that he couldn’t see.

  “And beautiful and strong and capable and fierce and brave—”

  “You think I’m beautiful?” I said in a small voice.

  His lips curved into a smile. “Very beautiful.”

  “So are you,” I said, and then blushed harder. “I mean, for a man, you’re very… nice to look at, and—”

  He kissed me.

  He leaned over the chair he was sitting in and caught my chin with one hand and brought my face up to his and our lips met. His lips were soft and warm against mine. I could smell his scent, which had a hint of something smoky and wild underneath it, as if I could smell his dragon self underneath his coiffed exterior. My body felt limp and warm and ripe. I wound my arms around his neck.

  He teased my lips with his tongue, questing.

  I opened to him.

  And then he pulled me to my feet, and we were suddenly touching everywhere. He wrapped his arms around me, crushing my body against the firm, hot length of his body, and I felt as if I was a lit fuse.

  Heat and desire rose in me as I burned down. I was going to explode in his arms.

  His thorough kisses left me feeling weak-kneed. I clung to him to stay upright.

  He pushed me back into the wall next to the open door. “Clarke.” His voice was a rasp. “I know you have these… these rules or something about casual encounters…”

  Now I was trapped between him and the wall, pressed between the cool hardness at my back and hot solidness of him in front. I felt like I was still sizzling toward something, zooming down like a jet airplane about to crash. I was losing control of myself. “Casual…?” What the hell was he talking about?

  His hands skimmed my waist, and then he dug his fingers into my hips, holding me in place as his lips met mine again. He kissed me thoroughly, and then he broke away. “It’s only that there’s something between us. I know you feel it. I feel it. Kissing you is driving me insane.”

  I felt dizzy. He was affected by this? Kissing me did something to him? Impulsively, I ran my hands over his broad shoulders and then over his firm, muscular back.

  “So?” He pulled away from me an inch, sucking in breath a
udibly. He searched my gaze with his own, a question in his eyes.

  “What?” I said. I was out of breath. I was confused.

  “So, let me make love to you,” he whispered.

  My jaw worked.

  He reached up to run his knuckles over my cheekbone. “I’ve never wanted a woman the way I want you. I’ve never been this close to anything so fierce and strong.”

  Geez. I tugged him down and kissed him hard.

  And then his hands were traveling up higher from my hips, over my waist, my rib cage, sending thrills through me. He eased my sleeve down, exposing my shoulder. He kissed me there.

  I sighed, throwing my head back. Oh, damn it, what the hell was I doing?

  He kissed my shoulder, my neck, my collarbone.

  “Wait,” I gasped.

  He looked up at me, his breath labored. “What?”

  “You want… you just want this to be a casual… thing? Like we do this, and then tomorrow, it’s like it never happened?”

  He chuckled, and his laughter was dark and pleasant. “It wouldn’t be like it never happened. I wouldn’t want it to be. I think I’ll enjoy looking at you and knowing I’ve seen underneath your clothes. Speaking of which…” He hooked his fingers under my shirt and started to pull it up over my head.

  I stopped him, struggling with him. “Wait!”

  He let go of me, and annoyance flashed in his expression. “Clarke, what’s wrong?” His voice was urgent. “You want me. I can feel how much you want me in the way you kiss me. And I want you. What’s the problem?”

  “I can’t… I’m not like you.” I wanted space now. I wanted to think. He was too close. His chest and his shoulders and his arms and his smell… I swallowed. “If we… if I let you… screw me or whatever, then it will… I’ll feel things.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “What are you talking about?”

  “Sex means something to me,” I said.

  He sighed. “You’re turning me down, aren’t you?”

  I swallowed again.

  “This is ridiculous.” He stepped back, shaking his head. “What’s between us right now is powerful. This kind of attraction doesn’t happen every day. We’d be good together. I know it. The things I would do to you…” He looked me over, gaze lingering on my breasts, my hips, my legs, as if he was thinking through all the things he wanted to do. “You’d like it.”

  My body tingled in all the places he gazed at. I felt hot all over. I felt as though I was expanding. There was a sweet ache growing in my core. Damn him.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” he breathed.

  I bit my lip.

  “Hell, Clarke,” he muttered. “It’s taking everything I have not to tear your clothes off and have you right against the door frame. Say you want it. Say yes.”

  My lips parted.

  He took a step toward me.

  I held up a hand to ward him off. I shook my head.

  He groaned, shutting his eyes.

  “I can’t,” I whispered.

  “Clarke—”

  “I think you should leave,” I said quietly.

  He hung his head. He didn’t move.

  I picked up the wine bottle and thrust it at him. “Go,” I said, my voice stronger.

  He went.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Once he was gone, I turned off all the lights and crawled into bed in my clothes. I didn’t think I could bear to take anything off. I felt confused. I felt turned on. I felt unfinished.

  What the hell was that?

  I knew that a casual encounter was not for me. I knew that it would be cheap and tawdry. A moment’s pleasure, but the pain it would cause me wouldn’t be worth it in the end.

  So why did I ache for him now?

  If an ache could have a color, this would be a deep, deep red. Almost purple. Almost black. Like blood.

  When I wanted Logan, that was a murky gray. All the color had been bled out of the way I felt for him. It was like ashes, like a fire that’s long ago burnt out, but still has lingering embers.

  This feeling I had for Naelen, it was so much more alive.

  Naelen was right. I wanted him. And maybe it was nothing more than physical attraction, and maybe it would be easy enough to have my way with him. Maybe he was such a jerk that I could just get it on and not care in the morning. I mean, I wouldn’t really develop feelings for him, would I?

  Ugh. It had been easier when I had been able to hate him. Before I’d seen how much he cared about his sister or how he could rally for the occasion when we were in danger. Before I’d grown fond of him and he’d grown fond of me. Back then, I could shove it all to one side.

  The sad truth was that I had developed feelings for him. Not romantic ones, not exactly. But friendly ones.

  And our sexual chemistry was kind of off the charts.

  I wasn’t sure what that added up to, but it wasn’t what I wanted from a man. I wanted more. I wanted the whole package. I wanted us to be good friends and to have sexual chemistry and to be committed to each other. Maybe it was a tall order, but the rest of my life was pretty crappy. I made compromises in lots of other areas. I simply couldn’t in this area.

  I’d done the right thing.

  Anyway, even if he did want me in that way, I wasn’t sure it could ever work.

  We came from different worlds. He was rich. He was a businessman. He went to charity balls in tuxedos and attended mergers. He knew which fork to use for his salad. I didn’t fit in that world. Not anywhere.

  So, it was better that we kept things professional.

  I was glad that I’d stopped things. I really was. It was better this way.

  But I still tossed and turned for a long, long time before I got to sleep.

  * * *

  The next morning, I had a wine headache.

  Gah. I should have had some water before bed. I hadn’t been thinking. I’d been preoccupied.

  Judging from the amount of throbbing my head was doing, I’d probably been more tipsy than I’d realized last night. No wonder I’d let Naelen kiss me.

  Ugh.

  I dragged myself out of bed. I knew there was a bathroom down the hall, and I thought that I’d just get myself a glass of water. I remembered seeing a little stack of paper cups in there.

  But when I got to the bathroom, the door was closed.

  I tried the knob. Locked.

  I started to turn around and leave, but the door opened. A swirl of steam came out, and then there was Naelen in a towel. His chest was bare. It was wet. There were little droplets of water clinging to every swell of his muscular chest, every inch of his flat stomach. His hair was wet too. His face was. His neck…

  I took a step backward. “I, uh… I…” I pointed behind me.

  “Good morning, Clarke,” he said.

  How was it that he was so smooth when he was half-dressed?

  I looked at the floor, feeling my face heat up again. God, I blushed all the time around him. “Sorry.”

  “You want the bathroom?” he said. “All yours.”

  “No, that’s, um, that’s okay,” I said. “You go ahead.”

  “I’m done in here.” He smiled at me.

  I licked my lips. “Okay, then.”

  He stepped out of my way, to give me access to the bathroom.

  I started to go inside. I stopped, one hand on the knob. I still wasn’t looking at him. “Uh, we should maybe talk about last night.”

  “Okay,” he said.

  “Not now,” I said. “After you’re dressed. After I…” I pointed into the bathroom.

  He yawned, rubbing his jaw. “I don’t need to get dressed. Go ahead. What do you want to say?”

  “Well, um…” I fiddled with the knob. “I just don’t want it to be weird between us.”

  “It’s not weird,” he said. He shrugged, and the muscles in his shoulders all flexed.

  I blushed again. I felt heat rushing to all the wrong parts of my body.

  He leaned close. �
�You want to reconsider? I wouldn’t mind another shower, if you want company.”

  I jerked back. “What?”

  His voice was a purr. “You’ve got that look in your eyes again. The look you get when you’re starting to get turned on. It’s getting me worked up too.”

  “I don’t have a… a look,” I sputtered.

  He chuckled. “I know this hallway isn’t the place, but I can’t seem to control myself around you.” He advanced on me.

  I backed into the bathroom.

  He came in after me and closed the door. “I like the way you look first thing in the morning,” he growled. “Your hair’s cute all messed up like that. I have to admit I wish I was the one who’d done the messing up, though.”

  This bathroom was too small. “Get out.” I pointed at the door.

  He furrowed his brow. “Are you serious?”

  “I know you’re not used to people saying no to you, Naelen, but I’m saying it. No, no, no.”

  He shook his head at me. “You bewilder me, Clarke Gannon.”

  I was trembling. “Get out.”

  He left the bathroom, still shaking his head.

  I locked the door behind him and leaned against it. My entire body was throbbing.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  “Have you ever heard of other worlds?” said Eden.

  “You mean like other planets?” Naelen said.

  The three of us were in the living room, and Eden was holding the arrowhead.

  “No, I mean completely different worlds,” said Eden. “Running parallel to this world. Some of them very similar to this place, others quite different.”

  “I guess so,” said Naelen. “I mean, I’ve seen sci-fi television shows about that concept.”

  “Well, it’s true,” said Eden. “These objects come from another world, a world in which everything is magic. That’s where the dragons came from too. That’s why nothing in our world is magic except them.”

  “What?” I said, furrowing my brow.

  Naelen laughed. “I didn’t come from another world.”

  “Your ancestors did,” said Eden. “This was all a very long time ago.”

  “Then how do you know that it happened?” I said.

  “Well, because we have evidence in the form of the objects for one thing,” she said. “And because there are ancient, ancient beings that walk this earth, and they remember. There are vampires who were old enough to have been some of the first people exiled here from the other world.”