Sapphamire

by Alice Brown

  Sapphamire

  Dragons of Dragonose [1]

  Alice Brown Lady V

  JK Publishing, Inc. (2014)

  * * *

  Warning: For Mature Adult Audiences. Contains language and actions some deem offensive. Sexually explicit content. MF

  In book one of the Dragons from Dragonose: Blain Barrymire is a dragon shifter from the land of Dragonose. He came to Earth several years ago to search for his mate, and in the meantime, established a powerful business empire based out of his castle in Iceland. When interviewing for the position of his personal assistant, his attention is drawn to a resume from an N. Clayton. He assumes the candidate is a man, and is shocked when it turns out that not only is she a female, but also his mate!

  Natasha Clayton is out of options and time. The High Council of Others considers her a ticking time bomb because her powers didn’t manifest in the usual timeframe. She’s part demon/pixie, and part angel, and the council is confused and worried as to why her powers haven't come to light. When she steps into Blain's castle for her interview, she doesn't expect the life-altering changes that are ahead of her.

  Blain and Natasha soon face bigger problems than worrying about Natasha’s hidden powers, or the Council of Others. Blain's king has called him home to defend against the imminent threat of a long-standing enemy’s attack.

  When the unthinkable happens, and Blain’s dragon is seriously injured, will Natasha’s love and newfound abilities be enough to see Blain through?

  Sapphamire

  Dragons of Dragonose

  Book One

  by Alice Brown & Lady V

  © Copyright February 2014 JK Publishing, Inc.

  ISBN#9781311965233

  All cover art and logo © Copyright February 2014 by JK Publishing, Inc.

  All rights reserved.

  Edited by Kimberly Morgan

  Artwork by Jess Buffett

  Published by JK Publishing, Inc.

  Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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  Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales are entirely coincidental.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author and publishing company.

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  Dedication

  There are three people who, without their support, and help, this book would have never come about. First, our beta reader, Heather, who did an amazing job of catching spelling errors we missed and generally giving us confidence that this book turned out well. Since it was the first time we had written together, our confidence needed reassuring. She was quick to come to our aid. Her words when she handed us back the book were: “So, is book two going to be ready by next week?” Love you girl! And thank you for everything you do for us.

  Second, a special thank you to our editor, Kimberly, who did an amazing job of taking two writers’ ideas and helping us shape it into one book. And the section that “wasn’t working”? By the time you were finished working it over and then polishing, it shined, right along with the rest of the book.

  Last, but certainly not least, a big thank you to Mr. Brown for putting up with the two of us as we worked out all the details of this book. Late night hours, skipped meals, and laundry piling up were all part of writing this book, but as usual, he took it all in stride, helping wherever he could.

  Alice & Lady V

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Epilogue

  Drink Recipes

  Books by Alice Brown

  Books by Lady V

  JK Publishing, Inc.

  Excerpt from a Special Gift

  Chapter One

  Natasha tried to calm her nerves as she was led through the huge castle. She had been sent there as a last resort; if she didn’t work out, she'd be left with two choices—death, or life in imprisonment. She hadn’t done anything wrong, really; it was more just the fact of who she was. Her mother had been part demon and part pixie, and her father was an angel. To have a child with virtually no powers was a complete disgrace. She had a set of raven black wings, which stayed on her skin as a tattoo when she folded them back, and the ability to shrink down to pixie size when flying if she wanted to. The elders of the supernatural world thought mating her would help bring out her true powers. However, when around men, trouble always seemed to find her.

  Natasha was the best weapons handler along with being trained as an assassin. Originally the Council of Others, those who didn't belong to the human race, planned to have her work for them. However, it all changed when the “super powers” they thought she would inherit never manifested. She was then considered to be a ticking time bomb, because they still thought her powers would hit her at any given moment without warning.

  Silly, really. She was twenty-five years old and if they hadn’t hit by now, chances were good they wouldn’t. But it didn’t stop the Council from wanting to either lock her up 'for her own good', or outright kill her. Yes, they truly considered her a ticking time bomb, a fact in which she had tried to otherwise convince them since she turned eighteen.

  “In here.” The man behind her ordered, giving her a shove just as she stepped over the threshold, causing her
to stumble the remainder of the way.

  Way to go, Natasha. Great way to make a first impression. She was barely able to catch her balance when the big man stepped in behind her. She glanced over her shoulder to see him standing in front of the now-closed door, blocking her way with his feet spread apart and his arms folded over his chest. Oh wow, Chief Sitting Bull is going to try to block my escape. She clamped her lips shut to stop the giggle threatening to escape. Silly man, clearly he hasn’t heard about me. Not even jumping out of a third-story window was out of her realm of possibilities. Then the caged-in feeling started, making her feel like a helpless, trapped animal. Natasha hated feeling weak, and she quickly glanced around the room, taking in her surroundings. She spotted a man sitting behind a desk with his head bent, seemingly signing paperwork.

  She waited patiently for him to finish, but couldn’t help the shiver that ran down her spine once he sat back and his cold gaze raked over her.

  “Who are you? Where’s Clayton?” he snapped, not seeming too amused to see a woman standing in front of him, instead of yet another man.

  “I am Clayton, sir. Natasha Clayton,” she replied, fixing her gaze on the window over his shoulder.

  He snorted, stood quickly, and walked around his desk to perch on the front of it. “I would prefer it if you looked at me when I’m talking to you.”

  She closed her eyes for a brief moment before opening them to look directly at him. Though his attitude could use a bit of work, his body was the makings of a Greek god. A drop-dead, absolutely gorgeous Greek god. His short black hair was spiked, and combined with his piercing indigo blue eyes, kissable lips, his height of six foot six, and his extremely built physique, he reminded her of a warrior. Gosh almighty he was a lot taller than she was. Now, seeing him up close and personal, she could fully understand why he was the alpha dragon to the Northern dragon covens in Iceland.

  “You left out quite a bit in your profile,” he stated coldly.

  She raised her chin in defiance. “I didn’t think they were relevant to the position, sir.”

  He sighed heavily as he pondered over this situation. “Okay, I’ll let that one slide momentarily. I do have a few questions that will need to be answered, though.”

  “Of course, sir.”

  “First off, do you even know my real name? Do you know anything about me other than addressing me as sir?”

  “Yes, sir, Blain Theodore Barrymire, sir,” she stated proudly with just a hint of a smirk, glad she had actually remembered his full name.

  “If by chance I end up signing you on here, who will be your master, owner, or lord?” He crossed his arms over his broad chest, and lifted his left eyebrow while he awaited her answer.

  What the hell kind of question was that? Was he just like all the others? “No one, sir.”

  Just as soon as the words left her mouth, she knew they were the wrong ones to say. The guard behind her came up, wrapped a fist deep into her hair, and yanked, forcing her to her knees with her head back. Her hands flew back to his fist trying to loosen his hold; it felt like he was going to pull out every strand by the roots. She dug her fingernails into his wrists. Tears started to sting her eyes, and she wanted to scream out in anger the two of them obviously were no different from everyone else she had met.

  “Answer him correctly, you little deformed bitch,” the beef-cake of a man spat into her face.

  “Go blow yourself, jackass.” And with that he yanked even harder on her hair. She couldn’t hold back her gasp at the pain. But before he could do anything else, Mr. Barrymire stepped in.

  “Enough, let her go.” There was a deadly-steel edge to his voice, and she was glad the guard decided to listen when a few seconds later he released her hair. As if she wasn’t kneeling on the carpet, trying to massage circulation back into her aching scalp, he approached the guard, stopping just inches from her. She had closed her eyes for a moment to compose herself. When she reopened them, it was to see his groin directly in front of her face. Well, hello, big boy!

  “You will never again lay a hand on Ms. Clayton. Do I make myself clear?” If Natasha had thought there was steel in his voice a moment ago, it was nothing compared to the deadly menace his words were laced with now. Suddenly, there was a hand in front of her, his offer of help in standing up.

  She ignored the outstretched hand and stood on her own in one fluid movement. She sent a warning glare over to the guard. Just you wait, buddy. If I get this job, I promise you I will not forget what you have done. And if either of them thought she would bow to anyone, he had another think coming.

  “You’re very strong-willed,” Blain stated, his gaze no longer quite as cold but filled with curiosity.

  “I don't believe in you being higher or lesser than me. I won't be treated like a piece of property and wear a leash around my neck just because some brute feels like he’s a hotshot who needs to have someone below him to make him feel powerful. Sir,” she stated flatly. Why couldn’t she ever learn to shut her mouth? Because you’ve already seen the worst humanity and Others can do to one another. She had been forced to submit in ways she refused ever to go through again. Living in cages, wearing collars, bowing before someone every day, kissing someone’s hands or feet; it all swirled into a deep, dark past she wished weren't a part of her. Those were the things nightmares were made of, but that was how she had been forced to live for several years of her early adulthood.

  Blain nodded, a gleam in his eye. “Completely understandable. You make a valid point, Ms. Clayton.” Noticing she was still trying to massage her scalp casually with the tips of her fingers, he added, “Are you okay?”

  “I'm fine. I don’t require your attention or your pity.” She jutted her chin and squinted her eyes a bit, letting him know she was very serious on this statement. Yes, he might be her last option, but she would be damned if she would go around feeling like she owed him her life.

  “No? Then tell me why you are so intent on making such a good first impression on me.”

  Natasha inhaled, locking her gaze down on the carpet. Now he was getting down to the core of the situation. “Because you are my last chance to live a true life, sir.”

  His voice gentled, reminding her of warm honey drizzling down on her. “And why is that, Natasha?”

  She drew in a deep breath. There was no use in lying. He had probably already pulled her history and would already know everything she was about to tell him.

  “I have been labeled as a ticking time bomb. My father is an angel and my mother is half demon and half pixie, but I inherited none of their powers. The elders believe since I cannot settle with a forced mate, nor can I display powers that I am believed to hold, I must find a job that allows me to be watched carefully, or live in a cage for the rest of my days, or be killed. Sir, I cannot let death reach me, I have someone who depends on me more than you know.” She couldn’t even bring herself to look at him. She felt as if she had just stripped down naked and was left standing in shame.

  “You shall not have to face any of that here with me, Natasha,” he whispered, stepping up to her and tilting her chin up to look at him. He searched her eyes deeply for a long time.

  It wasn’t until the man behind her cleared his throat that Blain backed away from her, it made mistake number two from his guard, and that was unacceptable. He needed to get Natasha settled and out of the office, then he would deal with his guard. He would make sure the man knew just who was in charge by the time he was finished with him.

  “There are only a few more things that I wish to know before you get settled. What position was it that you applied for?” he asked.

  She blinked only once as she struggled to figure out why he had just worded his question the way he did. There was only one position she knew of, and besides, surely he had all of her paperwork sitting right on his desk. “Your right-hand, sir. I heard your last betrayed you and nearly got you killed.”

  “You think you can do a better job?” he inquired as he raked his e
yes slowly over her beautiful lean body.

  “May I borrow that?” she asked, gesturing to the pen he was fiddling with.

  He handed it to her, wondering what she was up to. He watched as she quickly spun around and threw it toward his guard. She never even waited to see if she made her mark, simply spinning back around and facing him calmly.

  “You missed,” he said, a teasing smile coming to his lips.

  “Did I now?” she asked in wide-eyed innocence.

  Blain glanced back toward his guard and barely contained his chuckle as he noticed the other man looking scared. His guard swallowed hard before grabbing the family jewels and lifting them out of the way, leaning over as he went. There, lodged in the heavy wooden door, just barely missing his balls, was Blain’s pen. Absolutely amazing! She never even took the time to aim! And Goddamn, is she hot!

  “Know this, Natasha Clayton. I do not need a protector, although I am glad you have some skill in that area, should it ever be needed. I do need a secretary, an organizer, and someone to keep me in line. You start working immediately. Donatello here will show you to your room. You have an hour before I expect you to join me at dinner, and make sure you wear something elegant. The High Council will be attending tonight.”

  Natasha hadn't missed the appreciative gleam in his eye when she missed sinking his pen into his guard’s balls by mere millimeters. That will show the asshat not to pull my hair! “Until tonight then, sir,” she spoke softly, demurely, bowing her head for a few seconds before turning and following the guard out. The same guard who was now just a bit shaken and scared of her. Well, he can be scared of me all he wants. I am going to prove myself to be the best right-hand woman Mr. Barrymire has ever had. He is giving me a chance. I won’t let him down.