by Tami Lund
“Ginger still hasn’t been able to break the curse,” Talia said.
“Why not?” Petra asked absently as she picked up a wooden leg and tried to attach it to the wrought iron base. What did she care if Ginger ever figured out how to break the curse? She’d made her decision—she and Noah were going to co-parent, and that was all. Despite that, the idea of watching him fall in love with someone else—his fated mate—gave her chills and made her break out in a sweat all at the same time.
“She says she’s out of practice. And that a curse of this caliber is difficult to undo when it’s fresh, let alone now that it’s festered for thirty years.”
“Well, that’s annoying,” Petra murmured, her attention on the disaster spread out before her. Why was it so damned difficult to put together bedding for an infant?
“Tell me about it,” Talia said.
Petra focused on her best friend for a moment. “So what are the options, besides not breaking the curse?”
She shrugged. “We wait for Ginger to figure it out. And who knows how long that will take. Anyway, I’m sick of talking about it. Let’s talk about you and Noah.”
“I’d rather go back to talking about the curse.” Petra used a wrench to tighten a bolt onto one of the legs.
“Too bad. Why are you avoiding him?”
“It’s only been two days,” Petra defended herself. “And I did have a head wound, remember?”
“Yes, and you’re well enough to attempt to put together a crib—alone—so that means you are now officially avoiding him.”
Petra snorted at her friend’s not flawed logic and then shook her head. “You were there, Talia. You saw how my family reacted when they found out I had a baby. I’m not going to mate with him just because we have a kid together.”
“Why don’t you mate with him because you love him?”
Petra dropped the wrench. It clattered against the wrought iron frame before slamming into the hardwood floor. “Love him?” she repeated, staring at the mess that was somehow supposed to turn into a crib. “I love him?”
Talia laughed. “Well, I could give you my opinion, but I think that’s something you have to decide for yourself.”
Sadie, perched in the crook of Talia’s arm, gurgled and smiled. She looked so much like Noah it took Petra’s breath away. Or maybe that was the realization that, gods above, she did love the man.
And she was denying herself—why? Because she was afraid to become like everyone else in her family? But if she loved him, then she was breaking the cycle, even if the baby did come first.
Who the hell cared if her family thought they decided to stay together for the kid?
All that mattered was Petra wanted Noah in her life—as her mate—because she loved him.
She scrambled to her feet. “Talia, you’re a freaking genius. I gotta get over to the mansion.” She patted her hair, which was piled on top of her head in a haphazard bun. She had on no makeup and was wearing an old T-shirt and a pair of warm-up pants—and she didn’t care. She needed to see Noah.
She couldn’t wait.
“Come on,” she said, rushing out of the room. “We need to get to your house.”
Talia’s chuckles chased her to the door.
As soon as they pulled up to Talia and Noah’s mansion, Petra grabbed the baby carrier and went straight for the kitchen, with Talia trailing behind her.
But Noah wasn’t there.
“What’s going on outside?” Talia said, peering out the window over the sink.
Petra looked over her shoulder. A group of dragons had gathered in a half circle, including Noah and Gabe. Ginger was there, standing next to Gabe, with Ruby on her other side. “Let’s go find out,” she said, and they headed out onto the back porch.
“Oh good,” Ginger said when she noticed the two women walking toward them. “There, Ruby dear, go see your auntie while your dad and I work on this counter-curse.”
What? Petra and Talia glanced at each other before practically running toward the small group of dragons and the witch.
“Of course,” Talia said, hugging Gabe. “You’re part witch, too.”
He nodded and looked at his grandmother. “Yeah, it just occurred to us that I might possess enough magic to help. Why don’t you and Ruby go stand over there, in case there’s a reaction like the one that sent Petra flying?”
“There shouldn’t be,” Ginger said. “This curse isn’t contained by a physical presence, so it won’t be as compacted when it’s broken. But still, it’s probably a good idea to take the children to the porch.”
Talia grabbed Petra’s arm and led her back toward the house, while Ginger clasped Gabe’s hand and said, “Just focus on my words. Clear your mind of everything else. Hopefully, our connection will be enough to channel whatever magic you might have. Now, let’s see if we can break this mother effer.” She closed her eyes, lifted her face to the sky, and began chanting in a language Petra did not understand.
Magic sizzled in the air, like static electricity, for long moments, and then, as Ginger’s foreign words faded away, the sensation disintegrated like sun burning off the fog.
Everyone turned their heads this way and that, most with puzzled expressions.
Petra made her way to Noah’s side and whispered, “Can I talk to you?”
Before he could respond, Gabe said, “Is that it? Is it lifted?”
Talia pushed past her friend to reach Gabe. “Let’s find out,” she said, staring at her mate.
“Fly,” he whispered, and Talia took off at a run. The two of them shifted and flew together over the lake in the distance. As Petra watched, Talia’s dragon nipped at Gabe’s flank, and he blew a ring of smoke that she glided through before their tails tangled together for a moment, and then they headed back toward the ground.
They shifted into human form and magicked their clothing onto their bodies, and Talia grabbed Gabe and leapt into his arms, wrapping her legs around his hips. “Oh my gods,” she practically shouted between peppering his face with kisses. “ This is amazing. It’s lifted. The curse is lifted!” Her eyes were bright and shiny, staring her mate like he was a tasty treat and she couldn’t wait to take a bite.
“Let’s go,” she said, and he began jogging as he carried her toward the mansion. Petra had a feeling they were headed for their bedroom to, er, celebrate.
The gathering of dragons began rumbling, everyone talking at once, and a few more took to the sky, while others hurried away on foot.
There would be a lot of celebrating today.
“Well, that’s it, then,” Noah said. “Now you can figure out who your mate is.”
Petra smiled. “I already figured it out.”
He frowned. “How? You have to fly together, and you haven’t left the ground in the twenty minutes since she lifted the curse.”
With Sadie’s carrier in one hand, she sidled closer, trailed her finger down the front of his shirt. “We’ve flown together already.”
“You and your mate?”
“You and I.”
He shook his head. “We aren’t mates. Remember, you keep insisting we can’t be because we had Sadie first and—”
“I’m not really a fan of admitting I’m wrong, so this is probably going to be all garbled and stuff, but…I was wrong.”
One side of Noah’s mouth lifted. “That wasn’t garbled at all.”
She twisted her hand into the fabric of his shirt. “I don’t care that we had Sadie first. I don’t care what my family will think. I don’t care that the curse has been lifted. You are the man I want to spend the rest of my life with.”
Somebody was trying to extract the carrier from Petra’s hand. She glanced over at Ginger, who said, “Here, why don’t you let me babysit? I’m already taking care of Ruby.”
“Oh-okay,” Petra said, her heart racing.
Ginger took the carrier and made a shooing motion with her other hand. “Go on. Go fly.”
Petra glanced at Noah. If they flew, t
hey’d know instantly whether they were fated mates. She’d only just made the decision that she wanted to be with him; she didn’t want to find out they weren’t actually meant to be together.
Noah reached out and threaded his fingers with hers. “I think we should do it,” he said.
“Why? Aren’t you afraid?”
“Petrified.”
She laughed and tugged him forward by their clasped hands. “Okay, let’s do it.” This was it. Do or die. Or, rather, mate or not.
She stopped walking and turned to face him. “What if we aren’t?” she asked.
“Stop stalling. Come on.” And then he released her hand and took off at a run, his body shimmering with the shift as he moved. Leathery wings sprouted from his shoulder blades. His hands and feet turned into thick, black, curled claws. Horns grew from his head, which elongated into a silvery snout. And then he was in the air, flying in circles, presumably waiting for her to do the same thing.
So she did. Hell, at some point they’d inadvertently fly together anyway, so might as well figure it out now.
Her body began the transformation, her wings sprouting and lengthening and flapping, pulling her into the air. As familiar as the shift was, there was something altogether different about it, too. Another layer of magic, something she’d never felt before, washed over her when her dragon gaze lifted and met Noah’s.
Oh my.
Yeah. It’s real.
Whoa, were those Noah’s thoughts? Had she just heard what was going through his head?
A chuckled rumbled through her mind. Yeah, you can hear my thoughts. And I can hear yours. That’s because we’re mates, Petra. We’re meant to be together. Doesn’t matter that we screwed up and had Sadie before we figured it out.
If she weren’t in dragon form, she’d surely be crying right now. How in the world had she gotten so lucky to have found this man?
It wasn’t luck. It’s fate.
Okay, mister, get down to the ground so we can go find a secluded place to make this official.
Yes, ma’am.
They landed at nearly the exact same time, and Petra was so eager to wrap her arms around him, she almost forgot to magick her clothing back onto her body.
“C’mon,” she said, leading him toward the tree line on the other side of the lake.
“Seriously? You want to do this in the woods?” he asked.
She glanced over her shoulder. “Hell yeah. Seems appropriate. Also, I may have a thing for outdoor sex.”
Noah kicked up his pace. “Damn, I am a lucky, lucky man.”
***
Three days later, Petra said good-bye and watched her mother head down the porch steps to the sidewalk. As soon as she closed the door, Noah’s arms came around her, hugging her from behind. She turned and sank into his embrace, rubbing her face against his shirt in an effort to stave off the tears.
“You going to be okay?” he asked as he stroked her back.
She nodded and sniffled. “Yes. I think I’m more relieved than anything. My parents were never good together. All they did was fight. And even though it’s weird that they’ve split, I’m so glad my dad found his fated mate.”
“Your mom seems okay, too.”
She chuckled. “More than. I swear, the woman has been partying harder than I did in my twenties. She has no interest in finding her fated mate. She just wants to have fun.”
“Nothing wrong with that. She and your dad wasted a lot of time trying to stay together for the kids.”
She shook her head. “You know what’s harder to believe? That a few of my aunts and uncles actually are fated mates. Every one of them had the baby first, mated because they felt obligated, and most of them hardly seemed pleased that it happened. Now they’re happy. It’s crazy.”
Noah shrugged. “Might have been the curse. Or maybe, in the case of your aunt Gloria and uncle Bob, they actually like arguing.”
“And how about your dad? Did you see that smile when he met Sadie?”
“I think it widened when you told him her middle name was Renee. I was talking with my brother, and we both are pretty sure that’s the first time he’s really, truly smiled since mom died.”
“That’s why you were so afraid to get emotionally involved with me, wasn’t it?” Petra asked, leaning back so she could look him in the eye.
He nodded. “I essentially lost her and my dad when she died. I was afraid to love again because I was afraid of losing the person I loved. But when you were unconscious out there at that plantation, when I thought I had lost you, all I could think was that I wished I had figured out I loved you sooner.” He pulled her into another hug. “I’m so glad we get our second chance.”
“Me too.”
“You know what makes me happy?”
“What?”
“You. I love you, Petra.”
“Hey,” she said, playfully slapping his chest. “You aren’t supposed to say things like that while I’m in human form.” She swiped at the tear trying to escape her eye. “You know how sappy I get.”
He chuckled. “Get sappy all you want, baby. I can handle it.”
“I love you too. I’m so happy we both finally figured out we wanted more than just a physical relationship.”
“Not that there’s anything wrong with the physical side.”
“No, nothing at all.” She pushed him up against the wall and leaned into him, rubbing against him like a cat. “Definitely nothing wrong at all.”
The End
If you enjoyed Tami Lund’s dragons, give her vampires a try…
RESIST
A Blood Courtesans Vampire Romance
My sister has disappeared into the shadowy vampire world of Blood Courtesans, where blood and sex are money, and humans are sold to the highest bidder.
I’m Anya, and I hate vampires. They killed my aunt. And now they’ve stolen my sister. I can’t let her die, so I head to Chicago to track her down.
Before I can find her, I’m assaulted by two human thugs, and of all the luck, a vampire comes to my rescue. Cam is sexy as sin with an accent that melts panties, and he hasn’t eaten in far too long. And now he's offering to help track down my sister… no strings attached.
Yeah, right.
Welcome to the Blood Courtesans Series, where vampires are real, rich, powerful—and hungry. Blood is bought and sold like fine wine, and the best blood goes to the highest bidder.
It's not supposed to be about love ... until it is.
Chapter 1
“I don’t want to go with you!”
I kicked out with one booted foot while the other slipped on a pile of slush coating the sidewalk, but the grunt of pain told me I’d made contact despite my precarious stance.
“Doesn’t matter to us what you want. It’s about what we want.”
I backed up until I was pressed against the cool brick wall, facing my adversaries. Two of them. Significantly bigger than me. I had no idea if they were vampires or human, but that hardly mattered. Three weeks’ worth of kickboxing lessons were not going to save me, given the odds.
I should’ve started earlier.
But I’d lived in denial these past few months, convinced my sister would return on her own, without my having to rescue her.
“I’m not a blood courtesan,” I told them, in case they were vampires under the delusion I might be interested in their version of fun and games. Apparently fucking young human women while drinking their blood—and sipping a glass of wine—was what it took to get a vamp’s rocks off.
Not exactly my thing.
“Not yet,” the uglier of the two said.
“I’m not up on the latest and greatest in vampire culture, but I could’ve sworn blood courtesans had to do it of their own free will.”
“You’re right,” the one with a pockmarked face said with a sardonic chuckle. “You aren’t up on vampire culture. They don’t give a shit whether you’re willing or not. Only that you put out. Both blood and pussy.”
This was what put a sparkle of excitement and anticipation in my sister’s eyes the day she’d packed a bunch of silk and lace undies I’d never known she owned?
“It’s a whole new world,” she’d told me. “A gorgeous, glamorous one. I can’t get tied down to some country bumpkin farmer who will want me to raise a bunch of kids—both the two-legged kind and goats. I’d be miserable. This is the easiest, fastest way out of this life. And if I hate it, I’ll come back. My understanding is the contracts are only binding until one or both parties decides to end the relationship. In the meantime, I’ll call, text, check in with you through Facebook. Don’t worry, Anya. Everything will be great, you’ll see.”
Eight months and almost no contact later, I was convinced my sister was stuck in a life she hadn’t bargained for … or worse.
My assailants moved forward, crowding me. I darted a glance from side to side, trying to judge the best means of escape: the even darker dead end of the alley in which we all stood or the crowded street that seemed a million miles away. And to get to the busy intersection, I’d have to go through my two would-be attackers. Actually, given how busy the street was—it was St. Patrick’s Day weekend, after all—it shocked the hell out of me that no one had wandered down this alley to interrupt us yet.
I considered screaming for help just as my gaze fell onto a door almost directly across from me, carved into the brick wall of the building making up the north side of this narrow passageway. If memory served from my earlier walk through the area, it was a bar, an Irish pub. Which meant it would be crammed with people drinking green beer and eating corned beef and cabbage.
Perfect. All I had to do was get there.
Taking a deep breath, I launched myself right, as if I meant to run toward the end of the alley, and as my unwanted guests instinctively mimicked my action, I shunted left, bolting around them and rushing toward the door.