by Jory Strong
“Very well, Seraphine. Our bargain will be fulfilled.”
He flicked his fingers at the altar and flames erupted from the circular channel meant to be filled with sacrificial blood, a flash fire smelling of brimstone and charnel house and patchouli.
Bile rose in Dylan’s throat. He struggled to hold his breath. Terror coated his skin in icy sweat, the whispers and screams clawing and pounding against the protection the charm he wore provided.
“I trust you,” he managed, lips opening only the bare minimum necessary, the rest of it, but I don’t trust him, choked off. Through the bond he now freely admitted existed, he understood that to trust Arioc was to court death, and for his benefit, for the chance of a future together, she’d done just that.
It humbled him. Widened his heart further to love.
“What will happen to those two?” Seraphine asked, gesturing to the bound women.
“I made a bargain. In exchange for a possible end to their enslavement, Gressil and Oeillet agreed not to allow you to be unnecessarily harmed and to arrange for you to see your surroundings before surrendering you to the witch. As part of the working, they will be freed in such a way that you and your human mate won’t become the targets of their vengeance.”
The demon lord walked over and picked up the medallions by their chains. He dropped one of them onto Helene Lindley and she struggled weakly to dislodge the very thing she’d reached for earlier. The other he placed against Camille’s bare skin, uttering a low, guttural word that froze both women in place.
He returned to stand in front of Seraphine and Dylan. “Are you ready?”
Hell no! But all Dylan said was, “Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
A flick of Arioc’s fingers and what looked like a piece of black chalk appeared between them. He turned toward the altar and held his hand above the channel.
Seraphine took Dylan’s hand in the one not holding Lucifer’s Blade. This is the right choice. This is the only choice.
And yet as Arioc spoke in the same fluid language in which he’d bargained with Gressil and Oeillet, she ached at the possible loss of her gift. She feared being shorn of something that had defined a large part of her life.
The heartstone burned at her wrist. A glance at Dylan and she knew the future they would make would also come to define her.
Even without being able to work magic, I can still instruct Chesna.
If Electra will ever allow it.
The chalk Arioc held dripped like wax. But instead of becoming a black puddle when it struck the altar, it turned into gold and spread in a weave of complex sigils, coming full circle and ending that circle with a smaller one, and in its center was the glyph symbolizing her core, the part of her that could call magic and meld it to spells and charms.
Arioc spoke again, his words striking the blade she still held, and she felt his power reach through her and into Dylan.
Against her hand, the cut across his palm opened and began to bleed.
The slightest of nods indicated what Arioc spoke next would be the phrase required for her to activate the spell that would unleash portal from blade.
She acknowledged his nod with one of her own, memorized his slow, clearly enunciated words.
When he went quiet, she untangled her fingers from Dylan’s.
Even without physical contact, she heard Dylan’s vehement shout of no! when he understood she intended to touch Lucifer’s Blade to her skin.
Yes, she told him, eyes meeting his. Yes.
She opened her palm with the knife before putting the athame on the altar and once again clasping Dylan’s hand. Their mingled blood dripped into the smaller circle and became a flame spreading away from them on either side, its light catching on the ruby eyes in the blade’s hilt.
The fire reached inward toward the center of the altar, unnatural in intensity. Flames licked the dagger, melting the gems set in a goat’s face.
They dripped onto the stone altar like a blood offering. Darkness spread from the places they struck, infinite blackness reaching into realms awash with terror.
Seraphine’s heart thundered and was matched by Dylan’s. The flames in the channel roared, way out of proportion to their actual size. And when the fire circle finally closed, searing agony scorched through Seraphine as her power was pulled from her core and into the spell.
Arioc had said she might burn out her gift and she understood then, he meant it literally. Tears ran down her cheeks as for what seemed like an eternity she couldn’t breathe.
When the pain abruptly ceased, she gasped. Her mouth tasted of ash and her chest felt full of it, like charcoal left in a heap at her core.
There was a second to acknowledge loss and then there was only raw terror as a being burst free of the medallion placed on Helene Lindley.
Gressil. His skin was the color of fresh blood and great ram’s horns spiraled on either side of his head.
He swooped. Gathered his struggling prize then leapt above the flames that were gaining height from the altar channel.
He disappeared into the depths that had once been stone. And as if his departure signaled Oeillet’s, the second demon lord shimmered into existence with skin the pale of death and each of his arms ending in a pair of sharpened bone-white blades.
Like Gressil, he gathered his prey and cleared the flames to disappear into the portal.
“If you hope to escape this inferno with your life, run when I make my exit,” Arioc said.
“And the athame?” Seraphine asked.
He shrugged. “It will be nothing more than a dagger. Your police or your firefighters will find it in the rubble. Tell them what story you will about the events here and how it is that those who wielded Lucifer’s Blade are now beyond human law.”
His gaze flicked toward Dylan. Then back to her. “We will meet again, Seraphine.”
Promise and threat combined before he leapt and Dylan reacted instinctively. Quickly. Jerking her away from the altar, shielding her with his body as the room behind them became the start of a conflagration that spread in minutes to consume the entirety of the house.
Fine tremors moved through Dylan as he held Seraphine behind the gates he’d smashed through in order to reach her in time. Her back was pressed to his chest, his jacket the only thing shielding her nakedness as they watched the powerful, unnatural fire destroy all evidence.
He relived the minutes before his arrival. The panic and fear. Preferring those to the events inside the house.
His arms tightened at how close he’d come to losing her.
But you didn’t.
His cop mind demanded he ask, How was I even able to get inside? Shouldn’t there have been protections in place?
Summoning, containing and binding a demon lord required all of Lindley’s power. She would have drained the external wards to keep herself safe, but that magic wasn’t crafted to prevent being shot.
In the distance he could hear sirens, police and fire.
“We’ll need to get our stories straight.”
That’s easy enough to do.
He might have smiled, except the bond that allowed him to hear her words allowed him to know what freeing him from the blade had cost her. Tears clogged his throat.
This was his fault. He’s wanted her from the moment he first saw her. If only he’d given in instead of fighting it, then maybe he wouldn’t have been foolish enough to have handled the blade. If—
Stop. She turned to face him. We’re together now, that’s what matters.
Hope flared as it occurred to him that if they could talk this way, didn’t it mean she still had magic?
No. It’s because we are both human and each possess a heartstone. They resonate with each other. She touched her mouth to his, licked across the seam. Like we do. With time I might recover my gift, but whatever the future holds, I want to share it with you.
His lips parted. His tongued stroked hers. I love you.
Epilogue
&n
bsp; Hot water struck Dylan’s back but it wasn’t nearly as hot as the woman in his arms. His wife. Jesus. His wife. And he smiled because now he understood the urgency that had driven Trace almost straight from the site of Aislinn’s rescue and into the chambers of a justice of the peace.
He nibbled Seraphine’s neck, her shoulder, ground his cock against shapely buttocks as his hands roamed upward to cup her breasts. “Maybe we should forget about the party and just stay home,” he said.
Her home. Their home now.
A dip. A thrust. And his cock was between her legs, teasing against swollen cunt lips and engorged clit.
She moaned, then he did when she leaned forward, placing her palms against the shower wall, offering access and trying to entice him into joining his body to hers.
He tormented instead with the slow rub of his cock against her clit. Loved the husky demand in her voice when she said, “Dylan,” the echo of it sounding along the bond, and fuck, he couldn’t imagine not having that with her, so even apart he had only to reach mentally to know where she was and that she was safe.
She captured his cock in an effort to guide it to her opening. He pumped through her closed fist then pulled away, withholding what she wanted even as his dick screamed its need.
He continued to drive her higher with the capture of her clit between his fingers, with possessive, sucking bites to her neck and shoulder. Smiling against her skin when he realized if he wasn’t careful, he was going to end up with a nickname similar to Trace’s.
“Now, Dylan.” Panted demand this time.
Her need pulsed through him, increasing his own. “Say please.”
“Are you asking to be turned into a frog?”
He laughed, joyous because she probably could do just that—now. Despite her fears after fueling Arioc’s spell, an ember of her gift had remained, deeply buried.
It had taken days for a hint of it to emerge, but once it started to, it had quickly grown stronger, until it became a burning flame at the core of her being—not that he wanted to look more closely at it.
Fuck he was still trying to get his head around Trace, Miguel, Conner and Storm being hooked up with the supernatural and part of that world.
You’re a part of it now too.
I’m a part of this. What I have with you. Said as he entered her, closing his eyes and losing himself in the ecstasy of her body one thrust at a time, until the squeeze of her channel in orgasm forced him to come in a release that left him lightheaded and using his wife as support rather than collapsing onto ceramic tiles.
“A frog can’t do that for you,” he pointed out.
She laughed and twisted to face him, creating a howl of protest inside him at having his cock pulled from her sheath. “We’re already late,” she said.
“We’re newlyweds. It wouldn’t shock anyone if we didn’t show up at all.”
Seraphine cocked her head because she felt it then, the tiniest hint of… Worry? Resistance?
She brushed her lips across his. “This will be like any other party. There’ll no doubt be potential mates there who have no idea supernatural beings share our world.”
It was the right thing to say. Something inside him relaxed. He rubbed his mouth against hers, lips curved in a smile. “Let’s go. The sooner we leave, the sooner we can get back to this.”
Though having said it, one kiss led to a second, and a third, to several dozen more before they finally approached Severn Damek’s estate.
“A dragon, huh?” Dylan asked in reaction to the dark-blue beasts with hints of red that were carved on either side of the open gates. “Yeah, I see that now. It’s kind of hard to miss.”
Seraphine laughed. “He’s one of three princes who make their home in this area.”
Dylan pulled to a stop next to guards there to allow or deny entrance. All four of the men had long flowing hair.
“Proceed,” a dark-haired dragon said.
Dylan rolled forward and Seraphine’s breath caught in wonder at the fantasy scape of Severn’s sprawling castle-like home set in a riot of color formed by flower beds. “Definitely a dragon,” she said.
They parked where another of Severn’s men directed them, and within minutes they’d found the other homicide cops standing several feet away from the entrance to a maze.
“A freaking maze in his yard?” Dylan muttered.
“All the better to play in,” Khemirra said. While her mate’s greeting was, “Damn.”
Conner pulled out his wallet and took twenty dollars from it as Trace and Brady did the same, the three of them handing the bills to Miguel.
Miguel pocketed it. “Easy money. Told you he’d show.”
Storm rolled her eyes. “Boys will be boys. Speaking of which, this is Tristan, my legal husband,” she said, indicating the man on her right first, then the one on her left. “And this is Pierce, the husband who co-owns Drake’s Lair.”
“I knew there was something hinky there.”
Khemirra snorted. “More like something kinky.”
Storm laughed. “Guilty as charged.”
Seraphine noted the slow crawl of color up Miguel’s neck, the quick glance at Ian who stood next to him, and felt a quiet joy at seeing them together.
Dylan introduced her to Brady, linking him to Madame Fontaine.
“Is Ilsa here?” she asked.
“Somewhere. Sophie dragged her and Aislinn off to see some new treasure Severn acquired.” Brady looked past Seraphine and did a double take. “You got a twin?”
Seraphine turned instantly. Happiness flooded her at seeing Electra, that emotion doubling when it became obvious the dragon sent to guard her had become something much more.
Zephyr was as gorgeous as any of his kind, with long brown hair that twisted and curled down his back. She read possessiveness in the hand touched to the base of Electra’s spine. There was fierce protectiveness in the one resting on Chesna’s shoulder—and more, as his gaze seemed to seek out other dragons and offer a silent warning, as though they might somehow be a threat to a nine-year-old girl.
Seraphine’s pulse sped up, intuition crossed with Electra’s frightened admission of being terrified Chesna’s father wasn’t human. And she was right. Not only right, but somehow Zephyr knew what had fathered Chesna.
Chesna’s head turned, joy lit her features. “Aunt Seraphine!”
She excused herself from the gathered cops, Dylan accompanying her. Electra’s hug was tight and fierce.
“We need to talk,” her sister said, soft words for her alone. “I’m done with being afraid. Chesna needs to learn and there’s no one better than the aunt she adores to teach her. I think it’s time for Chesna to bring her cat home.”
Tears sprang to Seraphine’s eyes. They blocked her throat so all she could do was answer with a hug.
Everything okay? Dylan asked, concern and love in his voice.
Everything is perfect now.
Or nearly so, she silently amended at seeing Malik. It would be, once the curse tying dragon fertility to a cup was broken.
About Jory Strong
Jory has been writing since childhood and has never outgrown being a daydreamer. When she’s not hunched over her computer, lost in the muse and conjuring up new heroes and heroines, she can usually be found reading, riding her horses or hiking with her dogs.
Jory welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email addresses on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
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Also by Jory Strong
Carnival Tarot 1: Sarael’s Reading
Carnival Tarot 2: Kiziah’s Reading
Carnival Tarot 3: Dakotah’s Reading
Crime Tells 1: Lyric’s Cop
Crime Tells 2: Cady’s Cowboy
C
rime Tells 3: Calista’s Men
Crime Tells 4: Cole’s Gamble
Death’s Courtship
Divine Redemption
Ellora’s Cavemen: Dreams of the Oasis I anthology
Ellora’s Cavemen: Jewels of the Nile III anthology
Ellora’s Cavemen: Seasons of Seduction I anthology
Ellora’s Cavemen: Seasons of Seduction IV anthology
Elven Surrender
Fallon Mates: First Sharing
Fallon Mates 1: Binding Krista
Fallon Mates 2: Zeraac’s Miracle
Fallon Mates 3: Roping Savannah
Fallon Mates 4: Zoe’s Gift
Familiar Pleasures
Healing Seduction
Ride to Ecstasy
Supernatural Bonds 1: Trace’s Psychic
Supernatural Bonds 2: Storm’s Faeries
Supernatural Bonds 3: Sophie’s Dragon
Supernatural Bonds 4: Drui Claiming
Supernatural Bonds 5: Dragon Mate
Supernatural Bonds 6: Conner’s Wolf
Supernatural Bonds 7: Demon Familiar
Supernatural Bonds 8: Dragon Games
Supernatural Bonds 9: Dragon Master
The Angelini 1: Skye’s Trail
The Angelini 2: Syndelle’s Possession
The Angelini 3: Mystic’s Run
Thunderbird Chosen: Spirit Flight
Thunderbird Chosen: Spirits Shared
Thunderbird Chosen: Two Spirits
Print books by Jory Strong
Carnival Tarot
Crime Tells 1: Lyric’s Cop
Crime Tells 2: Cady’s Cowboy
Crime Tells 3: Calista’s Men
Crime Tells 4: Cole’s Gamble
Divine Death
Ellora’s Cavemen: Dreams of the Oasis I anthology
Ellora’s Cavemen: Jewels of the Nile III anthology
Ellora’s Cavemen: Seasons of Seduction I anthology
Ellora’s Cavemen: Seasons of Seduction IV anthology