Captive Dreams

by Angela Knight

  She remembered Corinne’s books. That’s right, the great beast could fly between universes . . .

  “A whip?” Corinne snarled, her cold gaze locked on the cat’o-nine-tails Jarred still held. Her eyes tracked to Celeste, whose eyes widened in horror as she remembered her own nudity—and realized the conclusion her sister was drawing from it. “You’ve been abusing her, haven’t you, you prick? I knew it!”

  Lifting one slim hand, Corinne gestured violently. A lightning bolt zapped right at his head.

  Celeste reacted without thinking, throwing a force shield around Jarred with every desperate erg of power she had.

  She barely got it formed in time. The bolt of magical energy sizzled into the shield, searing her mind as it found the psychic pathways she’d opened.

  “Arrgh!” She instinctively diverted the magical attack, letting it zap harmlessly into the far wall. Chunks of scorched marble flew.

  Celeste turned to try to reason with Corinne, but before she could open her mouth, Jarred plowed into her. “Get down, dammit!” Tumbling with her across the floor, he curled around her in a protective ball, shielding her body with his own—and making himself a prime target for the next energy bolt.

  “Jarred, no! She’ll . . .” she began, just as she heard her sister yell, “Shit, Celeste! Are you okay? I didn’t mean to . . .”

  Craning her neck, Celeste watched Corinne jump off the dragon’s back. Instinctively, she sent a wave of psychic force at her sister to scoop her off the floor.

  “Hey!” Corinne protested, but Celeste ignored the outraged cry and pinned her neatly against the wall. She wasn’t taking any chances with the kind of power her sister had evidently acquired.

  Corinne blinked down at the floor several feet below, looking as stunned as Celeste felt. “How did you do that . . . ?”

  Before she could even attempt an answer, Jarred dove for his jacket, rolling to his feet with his ion pistol in one hand. “No!” Celeste gasped, leaping up to grab his shoulder.

  With a roar of fury, Mykhayl vaulted from the dragon, drawing his great sword in one smooth, lethal gesture.

  “Guards!” De’Lar bellowed, just as the double doors burst wide and a dozen armed troopers stormed in, weapons at ready.

  This is about to turn into a goatfuck of epic proportions, Celeste realized, as Mykhayl and Jarred faced off and the guards trained their rifles on the largest target in the room—Khyber, the imperial dragon.

  “ENOUGH!” The great beast’s roar shook the room as its sapient golden gaze swept over them all. They instinctively froze like mice under a cat’s glare. “I will do something exquisitely painful to the next mortal who makes a hostile gesture toward anyone else,” the dragon said, sounding like a lethally fed-up Sean Connery. His massive head swung toward Celeste. “Put the queen down, wench.”

  She swallowed and lowered her sister carefully to the ground. “Queen? Corinne, what’s going on? Why did you try to kill Jarred? Where did you get those powers?”

  “Where did you get yours?” Corinne straightened her gown with a jerk and gave her a wounded look. “And why did you stop me? He was about to beat you with a whip!” She shot him a narrow-eyed, suspicious stare. “Have you done something to her, you psychopathic creep?”

  Jarred glared back. “I was not going to beat her!” he snarled. “I took that whip away from him.” He stabbed a finger toward De’Lar, who instinctually flinched.

  “I wasn’t going to beat her, either,” the king said hastily, eying the dragon. “I was trying to make a point.”

  “They’re telling the truth,” Celeste said hastily as anger gathered on her sister’s face.

  “If you say so.” Shooting Jarred another suspicious glare, Corinne turned toward her. “Look, we came to take you home. Back to Earth, or you can come with me to Mykhayl’s universe. Whatever you want.”

  She blinked. “You’re not going to Earth, too?”

  “No.” Corinne’s gaze tracked toward Mykhayl. He met her eyes, a faint, hot smile curving his lips. “I’ve found somewhere I’d rather be.”

  “So you two . . .”

  Corinne smiled. Mykhayl moved toward her, reaching out to take her hand and lift it to his lips for a kiss. The look that passed between them this time was more than carnal—it was tender.

  It was love.

  “We’re married,” her sister said, without looking away from the High King’s eyes.

  The passion between them was so strong it seemed to vibrate like the magic that had filled the room with their arrival. Celeste felt her heart twist in her chest. She’d never exchanged a look like that with Jarred.

  Automatically she turned toward him. His face was cool with that utter lack of expression she knew so well and despised so much.

  He’ll never love me. Something fragile seemed to wither deep in her chest with the thought. He’s got too many fears, too much distrust. He’s protected himself too well.

  It was time she stopped banging her head against the wall and went home. Back to what she could have—the career, the home, the life.

  All so empty of him.

  She wouldn’t even have the solace of writing about him any more. She didn’t dare. Not and risk that the plots she imagined might plunge him into some dark hell. Gathering her strength, she turned to Corinne. “I want to go home.”

  Jarred felt panic sink its fangs into his chest, sending streamers of ice through his veins. She was going to leave him, and he’d never see her again. Not even in limbo; he knew she’d never write about him again.

  “I want to go home.”

  The words echoed in his head, setting off reverberations that seemed to shake his bones—until something in him rose up in revolt. “You are home.”

  She turned toward him, her brows flying up in astonishment.

  Dammit, it was time to roll the dice and take a chance. Hell, he’d always been lucky. “This is your home. With me. And I’m not letting you leave.”

  Her eyes widened. “But . . . your enemies!”

  “You can block lightning bolts. You can handle an alien reptile assassin or two.” In two long strides he reached her and dragged her into his arms. The feeling of her long, lush nudity reminded him that neither of them wore a stitch. He didn’t care.

  Her small hands clamped with desperate strength around his forearms. “But you don’t trust women.”

  “I don’t trust myself.” He pulled her close and hard. “But I’ll learn.”

  “Took you long enough,” Khyber said, his hot breath gusting over them. “I was beginning to wonder if the light would ever dawn.”

  “Wait a minute.” Corinne’s jaw dropped as her eyes widened with realization. “You did this, didn’t you, you big iguana?”

  Kyhber sniffed. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “You lying lizard! The spell’s right there! I can feel it. You linked us to Jarred’s and Mykhayl’s universes so we could sense what was going to happen . . .”

  The dragon lowered his great head and peeled his lips back from fangs as long as her forearm. “Watch whom you address in that tone, mortal. I but served the Great Order, as I have since the birth of the Seven Kingdoms. You were fated to come to Mykhayl, just as this one was fated to come here. I merely set events in motion.”

  “And you neglected to disclose it?” Mykhayl demanded. “And if you planned this, why did you force me to deal with that greedy wizard to fetch them?”

  “You needed to experience how to make magic that you might stop fearing its wielders.”

  Corinne snarled. “You overgrown gecko, you’re the one who needs a lesson. I ought to . . .”

  Celeste tuned her sister out, too intent on Jarred’s hot black eyes to care. His mouth curved in a lush smile just before he lowered his head and took her lips in a sizzling kiss that made her knees weak.

  Naked, wrapped in one another, they were barely aware when Corinne broke off in mid-tirade to look at them. De’Lar grinned and started for the
door, shepherding his guards ahead of him. Corinne, Mykhayl, and the dragon trailed after him, still arguing.

  “Humans,” Khyber grumbled, just before the door closed. “Can’t live with them, can’t eat them . . . Well, you can, of course, but the survivors kick up such a fuss about it afterwards . . .”

  The double doors banged closed.

  Jarred lifted his head at last. “Speaking of eating someone,” he purred, and swept her into his arms.

  Celeste gave him a wicked grin that burst into a giggle as he tossed her lightly onto the bed. He followed her down, wrapping her in strong, warm arms.

  At first, it was enough just to lie against him, touch him, savor the sweet knowledge that he loved her, that he wanted to be with her.

  But then his big hands began to move on her breasts, her bottom, her thighs. In contrast to his usual demanding lovemaking, his touch was so tender she felt tears start to her eyes.

  “God,” he breathed against her mouth, his lips silken on hers. “Do you know how beautiful you are?”

  When he lifted his head, she met his gaze as he stared down at her. His eyes were so dark, so deep, and so hungry she had the sensation of freefalling into them. His long, warm fingers stroked her breasts, tugged sweetly at her nipples as pleasure unfurled deep in her core. She felt her sex begin to dew and heat. As if sensing that, he reached his free hand between her thighs to find her still slick from the last time he’d ridden her. His eyes drifted closed in pleasure, and he groaned in anticipation as he slid a forefinger deep into her snug, creamy core.

  Celeste purred as she watched his animal pleasure in her. Reaching up, she stroked the high, arrogant line of a perfect male cheekbone, felt velvet skin under her fingers and the rough prickle of his beard. He stirred, and she felt something long and thick come to rest heavily against her hip. Licking her lips, she knew it was his cock.

  Suddenly she had to touch him there. Had to. Had to feel the promise of his silken shaft filling her hands as it would soon fill her tight cunt. Reaching down, she captured him, and groaned at the sensation. Smooth and hard and eager.

  “So good,” she moaned. “You feel so good.”

  “So do you,” he whispered roughly, and bent to kiss her again.

  And so they touched and stroked, slowly at first, then more quickly as the hunger began to prowl in them. His mouth on her nipples, then between her thighs, licking, savoring the spill of cream that gathered with each flick of his tongue. Returning the favor, crouching naked astride his head while she slid his massive cock into her mouth. Being filled by him was wickedly erotic, especially when he began to gently rock his hips, slowly fucking her lips.

  The heat built between them as each used hot skill to drive the other into deeper arousal. Until finally neither could take it any more, and they came together in a sudden frenzy.

  Kneeling astride him, Celeste impaled herself on his cock and began to ride him hard. His big hands stroked her nipples and her clit as she leaned back, grabbed her ankles in both hands, and ground herself down on his cock with all her strength. She gloried in his rough growl of approval.

  “Yeah,” he rumbled. “That’s it. All the way in, darlin’.”

  “Oh, God,” she whimpered, eyes closed as she circled her hips. Her entire being was locked on the sensation of that massive shaft screwing deep as his clever fingers stroked clit and nipples. “You feel so damn good. I’m about to . . . oh! Oh, I can’t . . .”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah!” The chant built into a shout, then a roar as he began driving upward at her, skewering her on that amazing cock of his until pleasure and pain dueled at the depth of his penetration.

  Then pleasure won, and the orgasm crashed over her in a white hot wave. As she convulsed, she felt his seed pump deep and hot inside her.

  Then everything else spun away.

  It was much later as she lay across him, limp and sated, that she felt him stir. His arms tightened on her. “Marry me.”

  Celeste stiffened. Afraid to believe he’d actually said the words, she lifted her head and stared at him. “What?”

  He met her gaze, calm and determined—and very, very possessive. “Marry me. I never want you to leave.”

  “But what about your job? The Rekan? You said . . .”

  “We can take care of a lizard or two,” Jarred said. “But I can’t make it without you.”

  Slowly, she smiled. “You won’t have to. I love you, Jarred Varrain.”

  “I love you, too, Celeste Carson.”

  EPILOGUE

  The next day, Celeste walked the length of De’Lar’s throne room in a shimmering white gown that was as much her sister’s magic as anything else. Jarred watched her approach, his gaze hot and intent with anticipation. His black dress uniform with its silver piping looked almost austere in the sheer colorful splendor of the throne room. Yet somehow, the uniform only made him look more thoroughly male.

  His dark, brooding presence was a stark contrast to his best man’s regal majesty. An elegant green brocade tunic showcased Mykhayl’s broad chest, while matching silken trousers tucked into his green boots.

  De’Lar, for his part, wore elegant silk robes in peacock shades of iridescent blue. He held a book in one big hand, ready to perform the Stellar Compact marriage ceremony.

  At Celeste’s side, Corrine wore a simple silk sheath in a delicate shade of green that made the most of her coloring. She looked almost as delighted as Celeste felt as she took possession of her sister’s spray of fireroses. Noticing Celeste’s elegant train wasn’t quite straight, Corrine gestured, rearranging it with a flick of her magic.

  At last De’Lar began speaking the words of the wedding ceremony in those velvet, rolling tones of his. The throne room went completely silent, as the gathered members of the palace staff watched with rapt interest.

  Celeste had eyes for no one but Jarred. She stared up into his handsome face, into the dark gaze that seemed to shine with the love he so obviously felt. A bubble of joy swelled in her heart, until she could barely breathe around it.

  She grinned in sheer giddy delight as Jarred recited his vows with no hesitation. Somehow she managed to get through her own, ignoring her sister’s happy sniffles.

  “And now,” De’Lar said, closing his book with a snap, “I present Jarred and Celeste Carson-Varrain, united this day in joy. You may kiss the . . .”

  Jarred snatched Celeste into his arms before the last word was out of his friend’s mouth. She moaned in delight, kissing him back with her entire soul.

  Meanwhile, at the back of the room, Khyber coiled his big body, his fanged snout curling in a smug dragon smile.

  It had all worked out precisely as he’d intended.

  Turn the page for a special preview of

  ENFORCER

  by Angela Knight

  Coming in 2010 from Berkley Sensation!

  And don’t miss Guardian coming in May 2009 from Berkley Sensation!

  Punching the senior investigator in the mouth would be a very bad idea.

  For one thing, Dona’s titanite-reinforced fist would probably shatter his jaw. For another, Alex Corydon was the leader of the Internal Security Team investigating her, and he already thought she was a spy. Knocking out a few of his teeth would virtually guarantee her a very unpleasant stint in the Gorgon Penal Colony. And a treason conviction was nothing to laugh at, particularly in the twenty-third century.

  So Dona Astryr pasted an expression of polite attention on her face and straightened the fingers that wanted to curl into fists. I’m not going to hit him. I’m not going to hit him.

  You’re telling me you had no idea your lover was a spy?” Corydon lifted his upper lip in contemptuous disbelief. His teeth shone very white against the inky blue-black sheen of his skin as his eyes narrowed into slits of metallic gold. Hair the color of flame was bound in a severe braid that emphasized the height of his perfect cheekbones. The dramatic coloring made him look intensely alien, though in reality he was nothing more than huma
n. His purebred DNA was yet another reason he hated Dona’s cyborg guts. “You worked with Senior Enforcer Terje for more than a year—even slept with him—yet your sensors never once told you he was lying to you?”

  How many times had she explained this? Ten? Fifteen? She’d lost count. Fighting to control her irritation, Dona looked out the wall-length window at the rolling, tree-covered flanks of the Blue Ridge Mountains as they dozed in the sunlight, painted with indigo shadows. It was a beautiful view, one that normally never failed to soothe.

  Today it barely kept her from breaking Corydon’s exquisite nose. I know how this works, dammit, Dona thought. I’ve interrogated more than my share of subjects. Pissing them off it all part of the game. An angry criminal makes mistakes.

  But she was no criminal. She was a Temporal Enforcer. She’d spent eight years chasing killers and thieves through time, and she didn’t deserve Corydon’s suspicion.

  Taking a deep breath, Dona returned her attention to the senior investigator, who sat behind Chief Dyami’s massive black desk as if he owned it. Her commanding officer had loaned Corydon his office for these relentless interviews of the Outpost staff.

  The bastard was convinced someone there helped Ivar commit his crimes. And his favorite suspect was Dona herself.

  “Ivar apparently used his internal computer to hide his reactions whenever he lied,” she said with careful patience. “There were no physiological changes for my sensors to detect.” Dona had an impressive array of them implanted throughout her body, alongside the nanobot units that enhanced her strength to superhuman levels. Titanite-reinforced bones allowed her to use that power without shattering her own arms or legs. A neuronet computer wound through her brain in a molecule-thin network, giving her control of the whole complex system.

  “You told Chief Dyami your lover’s computer was active even in casual conversation. You never even entertained the thought that he might be a traitor?”

  “Do you ever wonder if your friends are traitors?”