Gabriel’s fingers started to tap vigorously, and he closed his eyes against the rapid heartbeat and crawling skin that drove the compulsion. His mind immediately drifted to Raven. She could soothe this with a touch. When he’d fed her his tooth, he’d thought he was saving her, binding her. Now everything had gone topsy-turvy. Her presence was a balm to his worsening symptoms and a source of hope for him. Up until now, his only release from the ceaseless urge to tap was shifting into his dragon, a form that was mercifully immune to the side effects of the curse. If Raven could keep him from having to spend his remaining days hiding from the world within a shell of scales and fangs, he had to find a way to endear himself to her.
Raven was an anomaly. He’d had lovers over the years, but never had he been drawn to a woman as he was to her—especially a human woman. It was her fire. He’d seen it the day he’d stood in her hospital room. Her words said she wanted to die, but what she really wanted was freedom: freedom from the confines of that wasted body, freedom from that room. The same as when she’d crouched in the window of the library. She wasn’t trying to kill herself. She’d believed she would survive that fall. It was all about being free, even if she broke her legs. Damn, he respected the shit out of that.
Which was why he couldn’t be with her. Raven was human, and it had been a long time since he’d been with a woman. With his magic faltering the way it was, he couldn’t trust himself not to injure her. His dragon had taken an unnatural interest in Raven. That was dangerous. One uncontrolled shift and he could tear her apart.
And that was simply the act itself. The real problem ran much deeper. If he loved her, and he could love her, she would never be safe. Loving Raven was an imagined future he could easily picture in his mind, as easily as he could conjure her jasmine-and-vanilla scent. But he was the eldest heir to Paragon, and this curse on his ring was only one of a million dangers that came with that honor. No, he couldn’t do that to her. She deserved a human husband, a home, safety and security.
If his uncle ever found him, his head would be the first on the chopping block. The life of an innocent human like Raven would be the perfect bait and the ultimate punishment. He couldn’t stand it if something happened to her because of him. If she could accept what he was at all. Big if. To humans, he was a monster. If he ever revealed his true form, she’d probably run for the hills, and well she should.
No, he’d been stupid to think of her now. He was an idiot for allowing himself to have feelings for the human. He must work harder to resist her charms.
“Gabriel!”
He turned his head. Now he could swear he was hearing her voice.
“Gabriel!”
Raven slept fitfully that night. She dreamed she was running through a forest of tangled branches. There was something in the darkness hunting her. A monster. Its heavy breath came ragged in her ears. Closer and closer, until a rush of scalding air roared in the gathering darkness and fire engulfed her, burning the tangled wood around her, burning it all down. The dream changed, circling and swaying, and she saw herself burning.
She wasn’t the victim. She was the monster.
When she woke, she was sweating. Her heart pounded, and she stared at the silvery light of coming daybreak that shone through her window. It didn’t take a professional to analyze what her dream meant. Her job was to find a spell to break a curse on a dragon’s ring, a job that had resulted in her predecessor going missing under mysterious circumstances. Raven had the strangest feeling she was standing on the edge of a cliff. She understood her new reality, but until she jumped, none of it would feel entirely real. She ran her fingers along her arm where the markings had glowed the day before.
Truth was, she didn’t fear the dragon half as much as she feared herself.
At once, she threw back the covers. No way could she sleep with her thoughts racing the way they were. She needed answers, and there was only one place she could get them. She showered quickly and dressed in a pair of black slacks and a blouse she’d had from before she was sick. They were both too big on her, but they’d have to do. She couldn’t afford new clothes. Not yet.
Raven had arranged for Duncan to pick her up at seven. The clock read five thirty. She couldn’t wait. She wanted to search Kristina’s notes again and confront Gabriel about the symbol Kristina had sketched and why it matched her family crest.
She boarded the streetcar and traveled to Blakemore’s uneventfully. The front door was locked, but she knocked on the glass. It was dark inside. Raven hadn’t thought of this. Gabriel was probably still sleeping like the rest of New Orleans.
Backing to the curb, she called toward the third-floor balcony in a loud whisper. “Gabriel. Gabriel!”
A man with a cart laden with goods gave her an annoyed look before rolling his bounty into a restaurant up the street. Raven placed her thumb and pointer finger in her mouth and whistled.
The curtains on the third floor moved aside, and then Gabriel was there, stepping out into the morning light. Oh hell was he there. Shirtless and in a pair of cotton pajama bottoms like something out of a dark dream. She lost her voice. Raven’s breath hitched in her throat, and her brain hiccupped. Why was she here again? What did she want to ask him?
“Raven, what are you doing outside my window at this hour? Where’s Duncan?”
“I—” Stop staring, she thought. She had to glance away to find her voice.
“Wait. Come inside.” He gestured for her to go to the front door and disappeared again. By the time she reached it, he was already there, opening it for her. The smoky scent that surrounded her as she passed into the building was stronger than usual. He hadn’t showered yet, she realized. He’d just rolled out of bed. God, he was hot, his torso a series of hard planes and deep shadows. What would it feel like to touch that taut flesh? He ran warmer than her. She knew that much. Making love to him would probably feel like dancing with a flame. She forced a swallow. A man had no business looking like that first thing in the morning.
“Raven?”
“Hmm?”
“What happened? Why are you here?”
Her mouth worked, but nothing came out.
He rushed to her, stroking down her arms, her back, and along her neck. Heat feathered over her skin with his touch in a way that made her scalp tingle. His movements were frantic, searching. “Are you well? Are you injured?”
“I’m… I’m fine.” Honestly, she was tempted to say she was hurt so he’d keep touching her. It was intoxicating, his bare chest close, his smoky smell overwhelming her. She inhaled deeply, her head tipping back so she could look him in the face. What would it feel like to kiss him?
“Why did you come without Duncan?” he snapped.
Okay. Major mood breaker. “I had a nightmare,” she said. “I woke up early and couldn’t get back to sleep. I have questions. I thought we could… have breakfast and talk.” She chewed her lip. Where could she get herself a World’s Greatest Idiot mug? This was her boss, and she’d just woken him up because she had a bad dream. “Or I could work in the library until you’re ready, if you prefer?”
He stopped with his hands on her shoulders, his dark eyes narrowing. “You couldn’t wait to talk to me?” The corner of his mouth lifted into a wry grin.
Raven’s cheeks heated. “I have so many questions, Gabriel. My arms. The books. Kristina.” She shook her head. “Crimson.”
He guided her deeper into the building, his hand landing naturally in the curve of her spine. “Give me a minute to get dressed. We will eat in the courtyard.”
“And you’ll answer my questions?”
He looked at her, eyes smoldering. “As honestly as I can, as long as you are willing to listen.”
She swallowed hard. “Why wouldn’t I be willing to listen?”
“People say they want the truth, but often lies are far easier to sleep with at night.”
Okay. Raven didn’t like the sound of that, but she nodded anyway. He led her into a brick courtyard at the back of t
he building where a table was already laden with a silver tray of food and a carafe of coffee.
She stopped short. “How is this already here?” She’d woken him. He wouldn’t have had time to make this or even call someone to make it.
“Please, sit. Allow me to…” He looked down at himself. As much as Raven appreciated his bare chest and thin cotton pajamas, she understood his need to perform his morning routine. She nodded, feeling flushed, and sat down at the table.
He disappeared in the blink of an eye.
The courtyard was a haven with four ivy-covered brick walls forming the boundary. Flowers bloomed in pots along the border and around a bubbling fountain that made a relaxing gurgle in the open space. It was a crisp morning, but she was comfortable in her long sleeves. She leaned back in the chair and closed her eyes, letting the sun bake her face.
The scent of smoky spices wisped past her nose, and she opened her eyes again. Gabriel, dressed in jeans and a sport jacket, watched her hungrily from the doorway. That was hunger she saw in his eyes, and not for the food on the table in front of her. It had been a long time and she was out of practice, but she knew when a man wanted her. He held her gaze too long and his body had stilled like a predator’s.
She gave him a small flirtatious smile. With a shake of his shoulders, he frowned and strolled toward the chair opposite her, his body language going from hot to cold in a matter of seconds. She looked down at her hands, thinking she must be rusty when it came to the opposite sex. She had totally misread him after all.
“Coffee?” he asked.
She nodded. “You were going to explain how the food is ready. Agnes told me you have housekeepers, but they’d have to be clairvoyant to have prepared this in advance.”
“Eat first, then I will answer.” He lifted a silver dome and slid a plate of eggs benedict in front of her. “You are still far too thin. Doesn’t your family feed you?”
How rude. “My mother is a phenomenal cook, thank you very much. Dr. Freemont says my metabolism is like a bank that has been overdrawn for too long. It’s going to be hard for me to put on weight for a while,” Raven said with no attempt to soften the edge in her tone. “I’m sorry you find my appearance off-putting.”
He drew back. “On the contrary, nothing about your appearance is unpleasant. You are… enchanting. I only worry about your health and that you are happy.”
“Oh,” she said, sensing his words were genuine. Maybe… maybe she’d mistaken a brotherly regard for attraction. She stared down at her plate and took a bite. Delicious.
“Agnes told you I have housekeepers. Did she also tell you they weren’t human?”
Raven stopped chewing. “No. She left that part out.”
“They followed me here from the Old World. They are oreads, or mountain nymphs. As long as there are natural substances from which to draw their power—wood, stone, water—they cannot be seen unless they wish to be seen.”
“Oreads.” Raven dissected the strange word in her mind. “And they are the ones who brought me tea in the library?”
He nodded.
“How many work for you?”
“Two. Juniper and Hazel.”
“But I can’t see them.”
“Not unless they wish to be seen. They only reveal themselves to those they trust completely.”
“Oh.”
“You said they come from the Old World. Where is that?”
He eyed her plate. Raven took another bite.
With a self-satisfied smile, he answered. “When I first arrived in this realm, it was on the island of Crete. The oreads are from Mount Ida. As magical beings, they were attracted to what I am. You could say our relationship is symbiotic.”
“When you first arrived in this… realm? What realm are you originally from?” Raven hadn’t considered that he wasn’t from here. After all, everything she’d ever learned about vampires and witches suggested they were once human. Why not dragons?
“All dragons are originally from Paragon.”
“Paragon? Is that like another… planet?”
He shook his head. “A realm. Another realm.”
“What does that mean?”
He sipped his coffee, studying his plate as if trying to find the right words. “If Paragon were another country or even another planet, you could potentially go there in a car or on a boat, right? Or maybe a rocket ship, yes?”
Raven nodded.
“No spaceship could ever reach Paragon.” He pointed toward the sky. “This planet, this universe, is one realm.” He held up one of the red cocktail napkins stacked on the tray. “Paragon is another.” He held up another napkin parallel to the first. “Two separate realities, advancing through space and time, never to intersect under normal circumstances.”
“But you’re here.”
“There was a political uprising in Paragon. My mother used very powerful magic to help my siblings and me escape. She saved our lives by sending us here.” He held up his right hand and thumbed the emerald ring. “She was the one who enchanted my ring. This allows me to withstand the environment here.”
“And without that magic, you’ll die?” Her voice was hushed, although there was no one to hear her.
He shook his head. “Death is not necessarily an accurate word for what will happen to me.”
Raven could feel her eyes widening. She drew her mouth into a grimace. “What will happen?” The question was more breath than audible syllables.
He licked his lips, his fingers playing across the handle of his mug. “I’ll turn to stone.”
Sometimes life kicks you in the teeth. Raven wasn’t sure what she was expecting him to say, but “I’ll turn to stone” was not it. It bothered her. Not just because the entire situation was bizarre, but because it wasn’t lost on her that stone did not mean dead. She couldn’t imagine being conscious inside a body of stone. Or maybe she could. Was it unlike being very ill? The horror made her shift in her chair.
“We are not going to let that happen. We’ll find a way to break the curse. I have an entire room of spells upstairs.”
“About that…” He reached across the table and touched her wrist, his thumb running gently along the back of her hand. Raven had a moment to enjoy the touch and the delicious feeling of warmth it elicited. Then the marks returned. Her arm lit up and glowed right through her blouse.
“It doesn’t hurt,” she said.
His eyebrows sank. He retracted his hand.
“Did this happen to Kristina?” she asked.
“No.”
“What did happen to her?”
“She left one day and never came back.” Gabriel looked down at his plate, feeding himself a large bite of eggs.
“But, I mean, do you think that woman, Crimson, had something to do with her disappearance?”
Gabriel stopped eating. “I shouldn’t need to say this, but stay away from Crimson, Raven. She’s dangerous.”
Raven crossed her arms over her chest. “Duh. After yesterday, I wasn’t planning on making her my BFF.”
He snorted. “I have rescued you from a dark alley and a tall ledge. Believe me, Raven, if I thought I could apply logic to your actions, I wouldn’t bring it up.” He gave her a piercing stare.
“Advice heeded,” she said flatly. “But there’s something else I need to ask you about Kristina.”
He sighed heavily. “I don’t want to talk about Kristina.”
“She sketched my family crest in the back of the catalog she kept of the grimoires. Do you have any idea why?”
Gabriel’s expression seemed nothing short of shocked. “It must be a coincidence. Kristina was gone long before I considered binding you.”
“It’s a distinct design based on a tree that used to grow on my ancestors’ property.”
He shook his head. “I have no idea. I’m sorry, Raven.”
She played with her food, her shoulders hunching.
Gabriel placed a hand on hers, warming her with his touch. The pattern o
n her skin glowed to life again. “I’d like you to come with me to visit an acquaintance of mine. I believe she may know what this condition is on your arms.”
“Okay.”
“You’re not going to fight me on this?” The corner of his mouth lifted.
“What would be the point? I want answers as much as you.”
The laugh that came from deep within his chest wasn’t human, and it took her a second to realize what it was. It made her laugh too, and she leaned toward him without even thinking about it.
“I am not used to this level of compliance from you. So far you’ve resisted me at every turn. You don’t want to use my car, you won’t lock the door to the library, you come and go on your own terms…”
“Do you want me to resist?” She gave a teasing smile. “Do you enjoy it?”
His eyes narrowed—a predator toying with his prey. “Only in the sense that I enjoy a challenge.”
Oh hell, she was playing with fire. It was as if the dragon was right in front of her, showing her his teeth, and she was standing there like an idiot admiring them.
“When would you like to go see your friend?” she said, changing the subject.
“After dark.”
“Okay.” She folded her napkin and tucked it next to her plate. “I should get started in the library.”
“Nonsense.” He stood and rounded the table. Wrapping his arms around her, he cut off another bite of her eggs and lifted it to her mouth.
His warmth surrounded her like a soft blanket, and she caught herself sagging against him.
The Dragon of New Orleans Page 10