Lydia and the Draca
Page 1
Table of Contents
About this Title
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Louisa Kelley
Lydia and the Draca
Louisa Kelley
Lydia and the Draca
Copyright © October 2009 by Louisa Kelley
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eISBN 978-1-60737-449-7
Editor: Morgan Fayne
Cover Artist: Christine M. Griffin
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About this Title
Genre: Shape-shifter Paranormal
Lydia has no idea why an entire race of shape-shifters was lusting after her. First of all, she didn’t believe they were real. Then why was she so incredibly on?
Science fiction geek Lydia Neal was just recovering from her latest relationship crash and burn. When she woke up in a glowing cave surrounded by enormous dragons, she was pretty sure she was having a sci-fi nightmare. Until it happened again. Then she met the smoking hot Draca, Eremon, and there was no turning back. Especially after he showed her the very special kind of ecstasy a Draca male could offer her—whether on the ground or in the skies.
Whatever the obsessed Draca wanted from her, she was ready to find out. Eremon seemed determine to resist her, but Lydia, for once in her ordered, boring life, was going along for the wildest ride of her life.
Publisher’s Note: This book contains explicit sexual content, graphic language, and situations that some readers may find objectionable: Anal play, group sex/moresome, same-sex interaction/practices (f/f), sex in shifted form
Chapter One
Lydia woke up gasping, tangled in sweat-soaked sheets. Disoriented, she tried to thrash her way out and rolled off the edge of the bed, landing in a shocked heap on the floor.
A light knock sounded at the door. “Lydia?” Her roommate, Jennie, cracked the door and leaned in. “You okay in there?”
“Yeah, yeah…I’m okay. Come in.” Lydia pulled herself up, her heart still pounding in reaction from the fall to the cold hardwood. She grunted with the effort and leaned her head against the side of the mattress. Pieces of her dream kept hold of her like fiery, insistent fingers and then, like always, slipped away before she could make any real sense of them.
She rolled her eyes and pushed her hair back off her sweaty forehead. “Guess I kind of fell out of bed.”
“Nightmares again?” Jennie asked.
“Yeah, I guess that’s what you’d call it.” She tried to suppress the irritation in her voice. She knew Jennie was worried about her, but she didn’t really want to talk about it again, and she didn’t need Jennie’s sympathy right now. This had been going on for weeks, and she was damn sick of it.
“Want some coffee?”
“No, I think I’ll go for a run and stop for coffee at Port Bean.”
Yeah, that’s what she needed. A run. That would help clear these dark images out of her brain for sure.
Jennie headed downstairs, and Lydia stood, grimacing. Surprised at how stiff she felt, she stretched out her arms and did some gentle back stretches. She looked out the window at the continual rain. No doubt, Portland in winter sucked. Jogging in the rain was not her favorite, but if that’s what it took, she’d just gear up and go.
She pulled off her nightgown and rummaged around until she found her sweats and rain gear. Not bothering to brush her teeth and barely running a comb through her hair, she found herself almost rushing to get out.
Images of fire and large, razor-sharp fangs kept intruding, pushing their way through her mind even as she tried to resist. Thinking too much about them only made them more real. She shook her head and jammed her keys and some money into her pocket and took off.
She settled into an easy jog, glad to be running the familiar sidewalks again. It had been too long. Her breath quickened in effort, small gasps escaping as she ran. Ah, this felt good. A light rain splash soaked her sneakers, and she didn’t care.
Go, she commanded silently. Scary images go away…
Up ahead shone the welcoming lights of Port Bean: best coffeehouse in the neighborhood. Lydia increased her pace, anxious now for coffee and food. She hadn’t quite reached that no-mind place of runner’s bliss, but she was good enough for now.
And still a bit cranky, she noticed, as she served herself coffee and bit back an annoyed remark at the empty half-and-half container.
The usual Saturday-morning crowd started showing up, and Lydia hunched down at her table, hoping no one she knew would walk in.
Too late.
“Hey, Lydia, fancy meeting you here.” Gary, her persistent ex-boyfriend, slid into the chair across from her. Lydia barely resisted a groan.
He gave her an innocent look, but she wasn’t fooled.
“Did you call the house again, Gary?”
“Well…ah…Jennie mentioned you’d gone out running, so I figured I’d find you here.”
Yeah, he was pretty cute, especially when he grinned at her like that. All that shaggy blond hair and surfer good looks…
Exactly what had gotten her into trouble in the first place.
Don’t encourage him, she told herself sternly. And then, irritated again, she remembered this was all Jennie’s fault.
Traitor. Jennie knew she’d been trying to dump this guy for the past month. They’d have words when she got back. She had to admit she missed the geeky sci-fi crowd Gary hung out with, being somewhat of a sci-fi freak herself. Still, it wasn’t enough to sustain any further romance.
If there had even been any to begin with.
“Look, Gary, I thought we had this talk. You’ve got to quit calling me. I need some space, remember?
“Yeah, I know, I know, but I have some tickets for opening night of the new Star Trek movie, and I figured you might be interested.” He grinned at her again, unrepentant. For a second, she considered it. Opening-night tickets were a prize. Reviews had be
en good, and she always loved a good Star Trek movie.
No. She would not do this, despite the fact that he fit perfectly into the mold she always attracted. Needy and troubled. Weak. Appealing to her codependency tendencies, her instinctual need to fix and rescue, and to control all the major aspects of the relationship. Give her a passive man, and she’d have him running in circles in no time.
But not this time. She’d come to her senses after a few months, and now she couldn’t get rid of him. Where was all that ambition when they were together?
“Sorry, Gary. Thanks for the offer, but what I said before still stands. You and me—we just don’t work. Give it up, okay?”
By the time he finally left the coffee shop, the residual weirdness from her dreams had disappeared. She jogged more slowly back to the house, pondering her plans for the rest of the day. And the night—she needed to do something different before she went to bed, something that would set the stage for better sleep. Something that would ward off the nightmares and give her a much-needed break. The herbal sleeping tonic she bought did nothing but give her a headache the next day, so there had to be something else.
A sense of weariness washed over her. No wonder she was so irritable lately. Persistent nightmares of fire and winged, reptilian creatures haunted not only her sleep but her waking hours too. This had to end.
Determined to get some real rest for a change, she regarded the total mess in her bedroom. How could a girl relax in such chaos? She pulled the sweat-soaked sheets off her bed and tore into the clutter, dusting and straightening. She opened the window, despite the damp from outside, and let fresh air blow in.
When that was finished, she made her bed with clean sheets and stepped back to survey her work.
Much better.
She took a long, hot bath and, afterward, pulled on her favorite flannel pajamas with the little bunnies all over them. Sitting in front of her makeshift altar, she lit a candle and incense around the small, ceramic statue of the Buddhist goddess Quan Yin and said a few oms to put her mind in a gentle, meditative space. There was nothing to fear. Nothing to fear at all. She breathed in and out in a series of rhythmic breaths, soothed by the scent of incense.
Sleep would come easily and peacefully. She would not remember her dreams. Not at all.
Chapter Two
Something woke her, and she noticed right away that everything was way too dark. Confused, she tried to make sense of what little she could see. Did the power go out? She moved to get out of bed and froze in astonishment. A hard, rocky surface pressed uncomfortably against her back. Definitely not her bed.
Okaaay. Dreaming or awake?
She pushed up from the chilly surface and stood on shaky legs. She must be awake. But this made no sense at all. And she was still in her pajamas.
Dim lights rose gradually, revealing nothing but a small pool of yellowish light surrounding her and utter blackness beyond. She could barely make out the hard, cut squares of stone that made up the floor, and her stomach clenched in sudden memory.
Oh God… Oh God, oh God, a cave. A big, black cave.
Lydia’s agitated breaths seemed abnormally loud, echoing off nearby walls she could sense but couldn’t see. She tried to ignore the panicked voice in her head shouting, Again! You’re here again!
Shadowy lines of immense walls on either side of the cave shimmered into view, as if an outside hand controlled the light with a dimmer switch. Carved surfaces soared as high as she could see, emanating a faint, golden glow.
A dreaded sense of familiarity pulled her to her feet and closer to the obsidian walls and their illuminated alien surfaces. She remembered this—but oh God, how could this be real?
Her dreams. These were the images she had been struggling to forget.
Deep, labyrinthine etchings were cut deep into a wide swath on every wall. Mythic, monstrous creatures massed and crouched and flew, fierce reptilian forms with huge, gaping jaws and wicked fangs, enormous wingspans sweeping, black skies.
She recoiled. Creatures! These were the very creatures—the ones that had driven her awake, sweating in terror. Even so, she couldn’t pull her eyes away. She followed the deep, carved lines that turned into gusts of fire—fire that blew with such force, she could almost hear the sounds, a fiery roaring over razor-sharp teeth and fierce, scaled heads.
Something emotional pulsed here, beyond anything she could truly comprehend. Stories were being told—stories that looked like old myths, the complex lines of the vast onyx surfaces painting her fears and resonating with some deeper meaning.
She peered harder, fear and anxiety growing by the minute. What did this all mean? Why, why was she here and not in her bed?
Gathering her courage, she turned around and called out to the edges of the dark around her. “Hey! Is anybody there?”
No answer. Continued, total silence.
She turned back to the sinuous sweep of carvings, trying to make sense out of the narrative. Maybe the answers were all here.
Creatures and warlike men appeared to be destroying each other in equal measure. Swords and fire, pain and death… Increasingly mesmerized, and not sure if this was a good idea or not, she moved close enough to touch one of the walls. She placed a tentative hand on the shimmering stone and felt a warm, living beat under her palm, faint and steady, tapping against her skin. A rhythm—a message?
She leaned closer; she wanted to be closer. She leaned in, almost touching the warm surface with her cheek.
“Stop! You are not yet ready for that!”
Lydia yanked her face off the wall and turned so fast, she almost stumbled. For one blinding instant she saw an enormous glittering dragon spanning the width of the room, radiating the same sense of palpable danger and wonder as the surrounding walls. Smoke hovered over its fierce form, beauty and terror so immediate and intense, she wanted to weep at the pure, heart-stopping beauty of such a creature. And then she blinked. What stood before her instead was a woman. Not a dragon. And not just a woman.
She had to be at least six feet tall, and every inch of her glowed with the same golden shimmer as the mysterious carved walls. Her copper hair gleamed in a pile atop her head and spilled long tendrils of flame across her pale shoulders. Her gown fell low across her breasts, clinging tightly in a diaphanous river of jade and garnet silk, hugging her curves.
A musky sugar scent swirled in the cave, mixed with smoke. Her senses drank in the overpowering presence of the woman before her.
“Do you remember us?”
“What—I mean—who?”
“Nareen,” she said. “I am called Nareen.” She paused. “You have been here before. Do you really not remember?”
The vision in front of her stared calmly back. Suddenly aware she was wearing pink pajamas with bunnies on them, Lydia froze in place.
Memories started flooding in. The voices, the stories…
“No! I mean, I’ve been having these horrible dreams—I didn’t think any of it was real.” She had tried to shove the memories away, blame it all on bad dreams, but there had always been that itchy sense she could never quite get rid of—the sense that she’d left something important unfinished. A task in grave need of help? The whole save the—save something—thing.
It was true. She really had been here before.
Nareen’s unusual jade green eyes warmed, as if she understood exactly the thoughts pounding through Lydia’s head. “Come,” she said. “Come with me, and I will try to explain again.” She held out her hand.
Lydia ignored the hand, too freaked-out to unclench her arms from in front of her chest.
Nareen dropped her hand, seeming not offended. “You will see,” she said. “Everything will make sense.”
“If I click my heels, can you send me home?”
Nareen smiled but didn’t respond. Her white teeth were just a little sharper than normal, and her lips were very red. Something tightened in Lydia’s chest.
Nareen made a curious gesture, and behind them, th
e amber lights lifted. For the first time, Lydia saw a large, overstuffed couch. A couch?
“Come,” Nareen said. “Let us make ourselves more comfortable.”
For all the world like they were in someone’s living room and not a mysterious cave, Nareen seated herself gracefully, her gown trailing the floor, and patted the seat in invitation.
Lydia padded over the cold stone floor to the couch and sat gingerly on the edge. “So…why am I here?”
“You are here because the gods have called you to us.” Nareen paused, as if waiting for Lydia to remember.
She tried and failed to understand the messages zinging between them like electrical pulses.
“You are special,” Nareen murmured, reaching out a slim finger to Lydia’s face and tracing a sensuous line from her cheek to her jawline. Tendrils of long copper hair had fallen loose and glowed like flame against Nareen’s amber-hued neck. “Did we not tell you that last time? It seems we failed in our task…and that failure caused you to insist on returning to your world. We did not mean to frighten you away. Never that. Perhaps a demonstration would help.”
Nareen moved closer and reached a hand to Lydia’s cheek, and without any warning, she leaned down and brushed Lydia’s lips with her own.
All coherent thought deserted her. Moist, hot lips caressed her trembling mouth. Shocked arousal pounded in her blood, and the scent of smoke circled thicker. For a few unreal moments, Lydia ceased caring that she was in the middle of a science-fiction dream. All that mattered centered on the smoky, intoxicating taste of Nareen’s lips and wet, delicious tongue probing at her own.
With a gasp, Nareen broke contact and pulled away, breaking the spell, her eyes focused like glittering diamonds on Lydia’s face.
Lydia’s arms fell to her sides; her wits scattered. “What—I don’t understand…”
Nareen smiled, her ruby lips so red, so inviting, Lydia could hardly take her eyes off them.