Dragon Reign: A Paranormal Love Tale

by Pressley James

  He forced back his painful grunt.

  Unfortunately, the 350-plus hulky bouncer failed to realize that his playful slaps were excruciatingly painful. And often, many would mistaken him as being straight Mafioso, especially considering his glistening bald head, finely tailored suit, and visible piercings. Not to mention the heat bulging at his waistline.

  But, it couldn’t be further from the truth.

  How many times had he worked the beat, solely relying on his information?

  They had an invaluable, professional association that worked.

  “I can’t complain about much,” he agreed, finally gathering his breath. “I’m fine.”

  “Brought your lady, tonight, I see,” Jagger noted, unearthing his white, toothy smile against his dark brown skin. “And a lovely one at that. What are you doing putting up with this ugly lazy bum?” The man gave a deep laugh. “Don’t want to answer that, huh? I don’t blame you.”

  An embarrassed flush spread along her face. “Oh, he’s not so bad,” she teased. “I’m in good hands.”

  “What?” the man asked in mock horror, and then laughed. “What have you done, brainwashed this girl? Clearly, she doesn’t know how twisted and demented you are, man. I’d hate to have to enlighten her about you.”

  “I’d be careful with that, Jagger. I can think of a few choice words to describe you, and there not that flattering,” he interrupted jokingly. “Count yourself lucky that I’m going to spare you. I’d hate to humiliate you before everyone here. You do need to maintain some dignity.”

  “Still the kidder, I see, player,” the bouncer said, his gaze clashing with his. “And luckily for you, I’ll spare her your less than savory qualities.”

  “Your job’s to collect money, not ruin my reputation,” he said jokingly, placing the crisp green bills into the man’s beefy hand. “It’ll be good if you remember that.”

  “Come on, now, Sullivan. Don’t insult me like that,” the bouncer said, shoving the money back in his hands. “You know I don’t operate that way. I’m not going to take your money. Go in and have a good time with your lady friend, here. We’ll pick up the tab.”

  “What are you trying to do, get us mobbed?” he asked, glancing over his shoulders at the massive crowd. Already, the couple behind them was looking extremely displeased. He arched his brow at them arrogantly before turning away. “Thanks man, I appreciate it.”

  “Don’t mention it,” Jagger said gruffly, slapping him on the shoulder again, only gentler this time. “I’ll let the boss know that you’re here. I’m sure that he’ll be interested to know. Enjoy yourselves.”

  Hopefully, he’d have information that’d turn into solid leads.

  “Thanks,” he quipped tightly, nodding his head.

  At once, the pulsating music greeted them as he pushed the door open. The techno beat danced again the walls, easily drowning out the boisterous crowd on the dance floor. A hazy layer of smoke filled the upper layers of the spacious quarters, a necessary and added effect to lend the lounge an intimate quality.

  Naturally, Macy was calm as she led the way, and thankfully, the crowd parted as they weaved through, though their looks were surprised. They passed the privately marked quarters, rooms staged with sultry dancers committed to giving pleasure. Of course, the gaming hall was rife with patrons, and the door was partially open, granting a clear view of the art of pure hustling.

  They veered left before making straightway again.

  “We’re heading to Level 2, Macy. This way,” he instructed, stopping before the elevator. He pressed the oval button, and on cue, the elevator doors slid open.

  “I wonder how many people are tone deaf after a night here. My eardrums are literally splitting apart,” she said loudly, overcompensating for the extreme noise level. At once, a mid-tempo rap beat kicked on as the elevator door closed. Now, it seemed that her voice echoed in the confined space. “But, of course, it is a lounge, and what is a lounge without loud music.”

  “Exactly. But, still, it doesn’t hurt to have quieter areas,” he remarked, releasing her hand.

  And as he broke contact, the disappointment filled her again.

  But, she masked it quickly.

  “Usually, this is where I hang out when I’m here---” he said, and then cut his words off abruptly. “Anyway, it’s much calmer up here, and we’ll be able to relax.”

  They stepped out as the doors opened.

  “We’re going to take a right, and then, we’ll hang out in Lounge Area 2,” he said, taking her hand. Again, he was disconcerted by his raging feelings where she was concerned, but still, he couldn’t turn away from them.

  “Lounge Area 2?” she asked with a laugh. “Just how big is this place?”

  “You’d be surprised.”

  Their steps ended at the lavender-hued door.

  With a soft click, the door opened.

  The rich cinnamon incense enveloped the intimate quarters.

  An expansive, black settee lined the wall halfway and faced the oblong glass window. The floor-length, smoky gray drapes touched the floor and were fully drawn back. From the open doorway, the pulsating lights beamed in through the clear glass, bathing the dimly lit room in a warm glow. At the corner, a pool table rested with all its brightly colored balls fitting perfectly in place. An oval table was staged in the center of the room, and already the ice bucket cased chilled champagne. Naturally, intimate space had been set aside for dancing.

  He closed the door behind them.

  “This way,” he said, ushering her into the room, and then tugged the leash from her hand. “Go on, Macy, knock yourself out.” The dog broke away before heading for the settee. She hopped onto it before stretching out fully. “As a matter of fact, I think this is working out in for Macy quite well,” he chuckled. “She’s seemed to have adjusted real fast.”

  Confusion marred her features.

  “Are you sure about this?” she inquired softly. “This is a club, and I don’t want her to be mauled or trampled on---”

  “It’s ok, Nicole. Relax. These are private quarters, and there’s no one here but us,” he said carefully. “Here sit down.”

  Gently, he eased her down onto the settee.

  “Good,” she nodded, fascination filling her tone. “It seems like the perfect place to relax and entertain. I have to admit that I don’t typically hang out at places like this. What about you?”

  She listened closely as he poured the champagne.

  His steps were quiet as he treaded to her.

  “Me?” he asked, passing her a goblet, and then settled beside her. “What about me?”

  A smile crinkled her eyes.

  “Do you come here quite often? You seemed really familiar with the bouncer out front,” she said, turning towards him. Again, his raw magnetism was nearly stifling as he draped his arm casually along the settee.

  But, why did she want to breathe it all in?

  …all of him…

  She sipped the wine.

  “I do come here a lot, to wind down if nothing else,” he admitted. “But, lately, my case load has been pretty heavy, and I haven’t been around here that much.” Then, seriousness masked his tone. “And I do know the guy who owns this place.”

  She sensed his movements as he stretched his legs out.

  And again, she wished that she was daringly bold.

  If so, she’d move much closer.

  A flush stained her cheeks again.

  She gulped the wine and nearly strangled.

  “Are you ok?” he asked concernedly, extracting the glass from her hands.

  She tensed as he moved closer.

  And it was extremely difficult to concentrate as his hard, sinewy thigh rubbed against hers. Her senses wandered as his warm breath teased her face.

  Again, she was lost in a maelstrom of indescribable, pleasing sensations.

  “You want to take it easy, ok?” he said with a husky laugh, dabbing alongside her mouth gently with a soft na
pkin. “If you go at it too hard, it’ll choke you to death, regardless of what kind of alcohol it is.”

  “I-I know,” she mumbled softly, distracted by his warm touch. “I tend to forget that sometimes.”

  …like whenever he was concerned…

  She stopped breathing.

  Inquisitively, she upturned her face to him, marveling at how a simple gesture could seem so blatantly seductive. As if drawn by a mysterious force, she edged closer to him. Slowly, he wiped the wet moisture from her face, and the only thing she could hear was her thundering heartbeat. Still, it seemed that she wasn’t the only one deeply affected as his breathing grew labored.

  “There, we got you all cleaned up,” he rasped unsteadily, dropping his hand. “I think I need another drink.”

  “Thank you,” she whispered breathlessly, straightening on the seat. To her chagrin, a slow, erotic beat pulsed in the lounge now, fueling every naughty thought that she had. She cleared her throat uncomfortably. “Being a private detective, I bet that you have more than a fair share of huge cases. While Atlanta isn’t New York by any means, I’m sure that it’s not immune to a moderate rate of crime.”

  “Naturally,” he agreed, eager to seize the change of conversation. “Like any place, the city has its unsavory areas.” He was careful to keep his distance as he dropped onto the settee again. “But, I like it here, and I never imagined that I would.”

  “Why is that?” she inquired, facing him again.

  Suddenly, there was a rap at the door.

  “The boss wants to see you in his office,” a heavy voice demanded roughly from the other side of the door. “And he wants you to come alone…now.”

  “Tell him, I’m on my way,” he said gruffly, downing the remainder of the drink, and then stood.

  “Is something wrong?” she asked, a thoughtful frown pinching her face. She snapped her fingers twice, and on cue, Macy moved to her side. “It sounds like it’s kind of urgent.”

  “No, it’s nothing for you to worry about,” he disagreed firmly. After he reached the door, he turned to face her. “I want you to wait here. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  “Don’t worry about us,” she nodded. “We’ll be fine.”

  “I’ll be back,” he said one more time, finally shutting the door.

  His strides were quick as he strode along the hallway.

  Finally, he stopped at the plainly white-hued office door.

  “Come in,” the suave voice spoke from the other side, sensing his presence.

  He shoved the door opened.

  “I’d be careful with that haughty attitude,” he said coolly, stepping on into the office. “If I’d been alone, my reaction would’ve been much different. Here’s a note of warning, Lucian. Don’t throw your orders around, especially not to me.”

  Carefully, he advanced further into the spacious room.

  His gaze centered on his close friend.

  Ironically, they were both dressed similarly, a crisp white shirt and black trousers.

  And if you were to judge Lucian’s youthful appearance, you’d never guess that the vampire was over two centuries old. Still, his honey-hued features were flawless, courtesy of a careful mix of Italian-Grecian ancestry. His hazel green eyes were still glacier, and never a man had been able to read them, even him, at the beginning. The jet black curls framed his aristocratic features, and already a blatant curiosity filled it.

  “Your warning is well-noted,” Lucian said quietly, leaning back in the office chair lazily, not even acknowledging the scantily-clad, buxom red-head and an equally vivacious blonde standing at his shoulders.

  They stared at Xander openly.

  Already, they were issuing open, suggestive invitations with their gazes.

  And who was he kidding?

  He wasn’t perfect or a virginal saint.

  In the past, he would’ve willingly taken them up on their offer.

  But, things had changed since he’d met…

  He shook his head.

  Still, he couldn’t cloud his thoughts from the obvious truth.

  …it was all because of Nicole…

  “Make sure you take it, then. Tell them to get out of here,” he said instead, inclining his head towards them. “This discussion is just between us.”

  “And yet, you claim that I’m the domineering one,” Lucian sighed, standing, and then turned towards the women who both hang onto him possessively. “Now, ladies, there’s enough of me for both of you. You know that. There’s no need to be all clingy.” Then, unsurprisingly, the vampire turned to each one before kissing them lustily. Satisfied, several breathless seconds later, he dismissed them with the wave of his hand. “Now, get out of here. We’ll catch up later and pick up where we left off.”

  Lucian’s gaze fell on him again.

  A devilish gleam shone in the vampire’s eyes.

  Quirking a brow dismissively, Xander stared back.

  At once, the women pouted prettily as they sashayed past him, but not before giving him a silent invitation again. The door closed behind them as they departed.

  “This Williamson woman must be quite something,” Lucian said thoughtfully, moving from behind his desk. A confident smile snaked across his face. “She’s practically made you immune to the pleasures of beautiful women.”

  “Unlike you, maybe I’m tired of liaisons with no substance,” he shot back, stiffening as he moved to the wet bar, and then decided against mixing another drink. Instead, he turned and moved for the leatherback armchair before sinking down. “Maybe the day will come when you’re not guided by your head down below. But, I hardly doubt that.”

  “When did you become so conservatively cautious when it comes to women, sex, and pleasure? What are you now, a relationship therapist or a self-help counselor in a staid women’s column?” Lucian quipped sarcastically, dropping into the chair alongside his, and determination filled his suave tone now. “I can read you like an open book. You’re fascinated by this woman. Look at you, you’re strong, yet weak. You’re subdued, yet your spirit exudes eagerness. And you’re vibrantly alive, something that you haven’t been since you’ve first fed. I’d say that she has you carefully wound around her little finger. I’m dying, for lack of a better word, to meet her. I’ll play nice.”

  “That’s not a problem as long as you understand the ground rules. She’s off-limits to you and your jacked-up charm, and she’s not about to become another notch on your belt,” he said harshly. “So, don’t get any ideas in your head because I’ll cut you down quick, and I won’t be nice about it.”

  “It’s not my notch that she has to worry about, but yours. Your blatant lust for the woman is so obvious to everyone except you. I’m more than surprised that you haven’t imploded with all that raw energy bursting at the seams,” the vampire shot back, studying him closely. “But, this one’s different. I can tell. You want more than that with her.” Then, an incredulous expression crossed his face. “You really care about her, don’t you? You do.”

  Amusement danced in the vampire’s eyes as he stared back at him.

  “You know what, Lucian? You’ve been cooped up here in your mystical fantasy land far too long to be dishing out advice. Your brain’s all fuzzed up, or either it’s completely washed out by all this booze you’re guzzling down every minute. You don’t have any clue what you’re talking about,” he snapped.

  But, why didn’t he believe his own words?

  “Oh, I think I do,” his friend shot back. “You want the woman. Admit it.”

  “I don’t have to admit anything,” he quipped tightly, “especially not to you.”

  “She really has worked you over,” Lucian said lowly, wonderment seizing his handsome features. “I’d never thought it possible that someone could slip past that hardened armor of yours. But, look at you. You’re wired up, jealous as sin, possessive, ready to attack like a wild tiger…I could go on and on,” Lucian observed, shaking his head, and then sobered. “Seriously, thoug
h, I sense that you care a lot about her, even if you won’t admit it to yourself.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered. “She’s like anyone else that needs my help or looking out for---”

  “Eventually, you might convince yourself of that. But, you’re not fooling me one bit,” Lucian noted, tenting his fingers together. “I know you, and I know what you want. Her.”

  “You’re way off base, Lucian, and I won’t discuss it further. Let’s just get to the real reason we’re here,” he said abruptly, sitting higher in the chair. “Have you noticed anyone close to matching the vamp’s description?”

  “This guy…the one you told me about,” Lucian asked, his tone serious. “Does he have a fetish for excessive torture?”

  “Why do you ask that?”

  “Last week, the blues found a dead body at the back of Cherish Palace, a nightclub about three blocks from here. And of course, they found puncture wounds. But, being the close-minded creatures that they are, they didn’t entertain the fact that she’d been fed on,” his friend noted quietly. “Not only that, one of my dancers was nearly attacked a week ago. But, the attacker scrammed as soon as Jagger rolled up on him.” His tone turned heavier as he eyed him closely. “I hate to admit it, Xander. But, you’ve got your hands full with this one. When he feeds, he does it sadistically and cruelly. Pity is hardly a quality of his nature.” He sighed heavily. “Get your girl. Pull her close. Protect her. There’s no doubt in my mind that she’s in grave danger.”

  “If I could just get an accurate pinpoint of his location, I’d nail him to the wall,” he said frustrated, fisting his hands. “Just when I think I have a lead, it turns into a dead end. And the old woman---”

  “The old woman?” Lucian asked, a frown piercing his brow. “You mean, your great-grandmother, right? What’d she have to say?”

  “She warned me about the vampires flourishing in the undergrounds. She mentioned a Vincent Breaux. Have you heard of him?”

  “Vincent Breaux,” his friend said slowly, frowning again. Then, he shook his head. “Even in my close elite circle, I can’t say that name stirs any recognition at all. But, who is this Vincent Breaux or rather what is he?”