by Amber Kallyn
Ty turned his glare to his brother-in-law. “Look here. You really want to get between siblings? She’s been my sister longer than your wife.”
Calla slapped Scott’s arm. “You’re both pissing like dogs marking their territory. Knock it off. We’ve more important things to do.” She poked Ty’s stomach, hard enough to make him grunt. “Quit acting childish. I won’t have it.”
Ty snorted, his anger fleeing as quickly as it had come. “You really think this mage is coming here? Why?”
Calla took his hand, drawing him close. Obligingly, he leaned down to hear her soft words over the growing ruckus surrounding them.
“Garreth said the bounty hunters found something. I don’t know what exactly. But combined with what Scott and I heard, we think the master is running out of prisoners to torture and steal magic from. He’s after someone in the band.”
Ty glanced around.
Part of him wanted to laugh at the wrongness of so many of the costumes. Humans would never get it right. But, they didn’t want to know the truth, and creatures of magic weren’t about to tell.
“So, Garreth’s on his honeymoon with Chiquita, and I’m dragged from my own case to take over his?” He complained, but didn’t really mind. He’d been stationed in a sleepy little town tracking down a rogue banshee, except the past weeks she hadn’t made a peep.
Not fun.
Anything was better than that. But he sure could use some sympathy from his sister. Besides, being tossed in with minimal information ticked him off.
The crowd surged around them. Ty stumbled forward, reaching for Calla before someone plowed into her. The air around her was an impenetrable wall, keeping everyone but O’Neil away. The man even had the doggone gall to wink.
“She is mine to protect now,” Scott stated matter-of-fact, his western twang full of amusement.
“Yeah, yeah.” Ty shrugged. “Habits die hard.”
Calla lifted her chin, drawing herself to her full height, the top of her head barely coming to Ty’s shoulders. “I’m your big sister, runt. Don’t you forget it.”
Ty laughed, the sound carrying over the noisy crowd. “You sure are. And getting bigger every day.” He stared at her round stomach.
His sister’s eyes flashed the red of her dragon. With how emotional she’d been lately, Ty wouldn’t put it past her to shapeshift here and now for the sole purpose of roasting him.
“I should get to work,” he mumbled, stepping away before she tried to hurt him.
Hormones.
The main reason he wouldn’t ever settle down.
Women were great for a while. But then they started nagging, demanding, needing more than he was able to give. When Ty couldn’t provide the emotional connection women wanted, the short relationship always came to an abrupt, and very loud, end.
He headed for his family’s control van, leaving Scott to try soothing Calla behind him. Ty chuckled, not envious of the man’s job.
The van was parked near a ficus tree, the driver lounging in the shade. After making sure everything was on task, Ty worked his way to the stage.
His family’s company was supposed to be there as supervisors and quality control, since the band—the newest rage with teens and adults alike, though Ty didn’t have a clue how anyone could enjoy the shrieking and squalling trying to pass as music—had their own pyro. It was a perfect in for him. He could play the role, keeping the fact he was also a bounty hunter on the lookout a secret.
Starting at the end of the stage, Ty traced the pyrotechnic wires, checking the length of fuses and control box sets.
The band’s guy was good.
Better than good.
As he reached the middle of the wide stage, he spied a tall, slim woman messing with some of the wires. Abruptly, she turned and strode through the black curtain over the opening leading to the dressing rooms.
Ty hurried to where she’d been.
Tangled wires lay in a ball and a vial of black powder was spilled nearby. His hunter instincts alert, Ty hurried to the curtain.
He caught a flash of orange hair pulled back in a tight bun, and a heart shaped ass curving into legs longer than should be legal as the woman disappeared around a corner.
He hurried after the little saboteur, internally lamenting her wasted beauty. She must work for this master guy. It was a good plan, the mess of wires enough to cause a fiery commotion. Someone would have time to swoop in, grab the band member they wanted, then disappear without anyone the wiser.
From what Ty heard, it sounded exactly like the type of plan the mysterious dark mage would use. Nothing too brash, nothing to force him to face actual adversaries.
No, this master guy was more the cowardly type.
Their mistake was doing it so early. Did they not realize the pyrotechnics had to be checked, double checked, then checked again before they could be signed off on for the concert?
Well, Ty was on the job and he’d stop it all before it had a chance to begin.
Whisper quiet, Ty crept down the hall. Reaching an intersection, he glanced around the corner. The flame haired woman was only a few feet down yet another hall, facing away from him, quiet and unmoving.
The thought trap sprung to mind, but Ty didn’t worry. He could take care of himself. Choosing the casual approach, Ty stepped forward.
“Excuse me, miss?” he asked pleasantly, reaching for her shoulder.
A claw of fiery heat clutched his throat, slamming him against the wall. He dangled, mid-air, straining to breathe as the woman stared at him with eyes of orange flames.
Chapter Two
She was being followed. Her watcher must finally be brave enough to act. Bree pinned the guy to the wall, her fingers tight around his throat as she fought to control her fire. She really shouldn’t light the man up until after finding out what the hell he wanted. She met his gaze.
A spark of recognition punched her in the gut. The brute from the crowd.
“Why are you following me?” she demanded.
He gasped, face turning purple, as he pushed at her arm. She should probably let him go. But being watched was making her a bit irate.
Without warning, his neck expanded. White scales covered his skin, slicing into her palm, forcing her to release him.
Just what the hell was he?
The damn man landed on his feet.
She spun, sweeping her boot at his legs. The impact made him lose his balance, sending him sprawling onto the floor.
Jumping back, Bree brought up both hands. Flames, bluish-red, licked along her fingers, ready to be flung at the stranger if he tried anything.
He groaned, rubbing his once more tanned throat, before climbing to his feet. Crooking a dark brow, he grinned, the dimple reappearing on his right cheek. “You introduce yourself to everyone like that?”
Baring her teeth, Bree repeated, “Why are you following me?”
She wasn’t used to anyone shrugging her off so casually. Here she was, facing him with deadly flames, and the damn man was grinning at her like she was some harmless child.
He took a step closer. She readied for a fight, the flames on her hands springing higher.
The man stopped short, but his cocky smile didn’t waver. With a shrug, he asked, “Why were you messing with the band’s pyrotechnics?”
Startled by the question, Bree could only stare.
A door behind her slammed open. Quicker than a blink, she doused her flames, though she kept her hands ready, palms out, just in case.
“Ah, girl. Stage all set?” Donavan, the lead singer of the band, called out. His English accent grated on her nerves like usual. If he got it right, it might be different. But sometimes he sounded Australian, other times Scottish. The fakeness rubbed her wrong.
“No,” she replied, attention still focused on the stranger in front of her. “I found a mess near the drum area. I came back for my box.”
The stranger’s blue eyes flashed something unreadable, then the grin twitching his wid
e lips moved to his eyes. “You’re the band’s pyro?”
Donovan stepped to her side. “You’re Dragos, right? The local firebug company?”
Bree’s jaw clenched at the derogatory term, but she’d long since learned to deal with this asshole’s insensitivities. He didn’t mean to be a prick.
He just was.
Dragos nodded, barely sparing Donovan a glance. Holding his hand out to her, he said, “I’m Ty Dragos. Here to look over your stuff, make sure all’s on the up and up.”
Donovan pointed her way. “Bree… um…” The wafting scent of whiskey coming from his breath explained how he’d once again forgotten her last name.
She sighed, rolling her eyes and letting her tense muscles relax.
She debated just walking away. But the man in front of her had the power to refuse approving her pyrotechnics. She was lucky she hadn’t already pissed him off beyond repair and she wasn’t about to push it. Covering the few feet between them, she said, “Bree Jones. Band pyro.”
“Sorry about the misunderstanding,” Ty replied, laughter in his voice as he took her hand.
Electrical heat sprung from the contact.
Gasping, Bree stared into the man’s blue eyes. They widened, growing lighter, fading almost to white. Heat blossomed, spreading from their touching skin, up her arm, into her chest.
Her nipples peaked, tight and aching, wanting to feel his calloused palm not on her hand, but on her bare breasts. Warm wetness pulsed between her thighs. Her knees shook.
Bree jerked back, but the man kept his hold on her hand tight.
“Hello, lovey,” he whispered, deep and husky. “Just who are you?”
“Let me go.” She tried to keep her voice low as she tugged for release.
He laughed, the sound booming through the corridor. Slowly, he leaned over and brought the back of her hand to his heated lips. After placing a soft kiss on her skin, the man let her go.
Bree stumbled back a few steps, thankful their touch had ended. It didn’t stop the lust flooding her body, bringing her to the peak of needy desire.
Damn.
What the hells?
Shaking her head, she hurriedly mumbled, “I need to get my things. Finish the stage.”
She didn’t understand the man, or this lust he’d caused.
And Bree despised not understanding things.
Spinning, she stomped down the hall to the tech room. Behind her, the pyro inspector started questioning Donovan.
About her.
She didn’t want to consider the implications of that, either.
* * *
The luscious woman strode down the hall, her long legs eating up the ground. Ty’s cock throbbed, his balls ached for release. This lust wasn’t about to go away anytime soon.
Which was strange. He’d never experienced such swift, compelling desire before. Sure, he’d heard about things like this happening.
The dragon burn.
When a dragon like him found their destined mate, the moon could call their burn. There was no moonlight in here. So what was this?
“… an’ then, we hired the lass. So pitiful. But look at the girl now. She’s a snappy smart ass. Lucky for her she does a good job.” Donovan finally stopped talking long enough to take a breath.
“Mmm,” Ty replied to the obnoxious man. “I need to finish my inspection.”
He passed the singer, drawn down the hall and to the door Bree disappeared behind. He was compelled. Call it lust or magic, he didn’t feel like fighting. Not yet. He wanted to see where this would go.
As he entered the room, her scent hit him.
Crisp autumn leaves burning, mixed with something a bit spicy. Bree stood near the far wall, rummaging through a tool chest almost as tall as her.
Closing the door behind him, he reached back and snicked the lock.
She jumped at the sound, turning to face him. Her eyes were a chocolaty brown, wide in a narrow face.
“What now?” she asked, face flushed, hands twisting at her sides.
Ty didn’t speak, just took in the view.
High cheekbones gave her a look of grace, while her straight nose was pure Nordic. Fine brows arched over her flashing eyes. The stringent bun corralling her red-orange hair did nothing to detract from her classic beauty.
Ty leaned against the door. “What are you?”
“What the hell are you?” Her chest heaved, raising large breasts with every breath she took. The tight shirt and jeans showcased her body, with curves in all the right places.
Ty loved the graspable width of her hips, remembered the shape of her ample ass.
Just the way he liked his women.
His cock thickened painfully.
“Are you going to answer, or just ogle me?” she asked sarcastically, hands fisting on her hips.
“I figured I’d stare at your beauty a while longer yet. Hope you don’t mind.”
She snorted, the corner of her pink lips curling up. Rolling her eyes, she said, “Sure. Whatever. As long as you don’t get in my way.”
Grabbing a large wooden box, she strode his way.
Ty didn’t move from in front of the door.
Her scent grew stronger as she closed the distance. Surrounding him. Filling him with deep, primal urges. The spiciness was from her shampoo, he guessed. Breathing deeper, Ty drew it in.
His dragon stirred, lapping up her scent. Alert, ready to mate.
His cock throbbed almost violently, ready for action.
Bree stopped a few feet away, watching him warily.
Ty closed his eyes, taking a deep, calming breath. It didn’t help. Her scent was everywhere, rioting his nerves.
He wanted this woman.
He wanted to throw her to the ground and slake his need. Inside, his dragon roared, the sound emerging as a growl from Ty’s throat.
His eyes snapped open.
Bree took a small step back, her posture becoming defensive. “You the one who’s been watching me all day?”
Instincts rose. Ready to claim, to defend what he was about to mark as his.
Swallowing hard, Ty shoved his hands into his jean pockets before he scared the woman. “Just got here ’bout half hour ago.”
Her eyes darkened. “Mmm. I need to get back to work, since you don’t seem inclined to share your birthright with me.”
He shook his head. “Sorry, lovey. We got some unfinished business to take care of first.”
Her eyes widened, doe-like. Lifting her chin, she stared at the door just behind him. The tip of her pink tongue ran along her full bottom lip. From the way her body trembled, lust was coursing through her as well.
The knowledge almost snapped his last shred of control.
“The only business I have with you is passing the inspection so the band can go on tonight with my fire show.”
Ty unclenched one fist and reached out, trailing a fingertip from her temple to her stubborn chin, resisting the urge—for now—to kiss the dimple in the center.
Her gasp was loud in the quiet room, but she didn’t back away. The scent of her arousal drifted to him.
“I-I…” The box dropped from her grip, crashing to the ground. Bree glanced at it, her face flushing pink.
Grasping her chin, Ty pushed her to meet his gaze. “You feel it too. Deny it.”
She opened her mouth, then snapped it shut as her eyes lightened with orangish flames the color of her hair.
“That’s what I thought. Even now, desire heats my blood, coursing through my veins. Only you can cool me.”
Straightening, she slapped his hand away. “Look, buddy. I don’t know you from Adam. I don’t jump in the sack with strangers, no matter what my body feels. You wanna get it on so bad, go find a groupie.”
Ty grinned. “Ah, lovey. They’re not the ones with the magic to make me burn so badly. Only you.”
She reached up with shaky hands and smoothed her hair. “Lust does not control me. Now move.”
Ty wanted to push,
but something stopped him. He didn’t want her to run away. Not before he tasted her. “Tell me what you are. Then you can go.”
Her eyes flared. “Move your ass or I’ll move it for you.”
Normally, Ty would have let her go.
He should let her go.
He couldn’t.
This woman stirred something primitive inside that was taking control. “Oh, baby. I love a challenge.”
Chapter Three
Bree’s legs trembled. Standing this close, his body heat radiated to caress her already hot skin, enveloping her in a haze of blazing lust.
She could—would, damn it—control this. Her lust never got the better of her. She had to control it, because sex with her could be dangerous.
It didn’t matter her heart pounded so fast she feared it might burst through her ribs. Blood, hot and wild, raced through her veins, rushing to her head.
It didn’t matter her hands shook with the need to touch his smooth, tanned skin.
Didn’t matter a drop of sweat dripped down between her breasts, making her want to rip away their clothes and feel his hands and mouth on her.
Only the thinnest line of civility prevented her from dragging this man, this stranger, to the ground and taking him inside.
She couldn’t.
And yet, she feared if she touched him to move him out of her way, her control would snap. Either that, or she’d burst into flames.
His eyes, almost pure white, blazed with the same desire coursing through her. His pants strained from the force of his hardness.
“Why is this between us? You are not dragon and there is no moon,” he whispered, his voice leaching her control.
She could barely think. “Dragon?”
He nodded sharply. “Aye. Dragon. Your turn.”
Bree took a deep breath, only to have his masculine scent drive into her.
“I want you, lovey. Tell me you want me too,” he whispered, his voice strained.
“I…” Part of her demanded she run to him, though she knew she needed to get away as fast as she could.
Ty didn’t give her the chance to flee. He grabbed her shoulders and yanked her to him. She melted against his hard body. His lips, molten heat, forced hers apart. He pushed into her mouth, licking, playing.