Dragos: The Complete Bundle (Books 1, 1.5, 2, 3 and 4)

by Amber Kallyn

  Ty slowed, caressing her sides and pulling her upright. He drew her back against his chest, gripping her breasts.

  His cock still pulsed inside her.

  “Mmm,” she moaned.

  “Mmm is right,” he whispered huskily, placing soft kisses along her neck.

  As the pleasure finally released control of her thoughts, Bree realized she should probably step away. Sex was one thing—and damn, was he good. But this intimacy thing, not so much. She didn’t know what to do. What to say.

  And she certainly didn’t like being so damn confused.

  Ty nibbled up her neck and along her ear. “You ready for bed, lovey?”

  “Yeah,” she whispered, half feeling like a rabbit caught in a trap as intimacy began weaving a dangerous web.

  “Good. ’Cause I got plans for you in my bed.”

  Bree giggled. They weren’t going to be getting much sleep.

  Chapter Eleven

  Bree woke to a soft tickling along her side and hardness pressed against her ass.

  Ty placed a soft kiss on her neck and pulled her to her back.

  “Again?” she asked sleepily as his hard cock pressed against her. “Damn, man. You have the stamina—and the cock—of a race horse.”

  “I’d love nothing more.” He kissed her jaw, traced her lips with his tongue, then brushed his mouth lightly against hers. “Unfortunately, my sister’s going to be here soon. We need to talk.”

  Bree jerked up, searching for her clothes. Did it really matter if his sister knew what they’d been doing? Hell, the woman was married and very pregnant. Still, she was a stranger. Bree didn’t like strangers knowing her business.

  Ty twisted, picking something off the floor. He set her clothes, laundered and folded, in front of her.

  “Don’t tell me you washed these,” she joked.

  His blue eyes widened. “Why not? I can do laundry. I can even cook, too.”

  Shaking her head, Bree took a quick shower and dressed, then headed out into the living room. Calla and Scott were already there, setting take-out boxes on the kitchen table. The scent of brewing coffee had Bree’s mouth watering.

  A minute later, Ty asked, “Cream or sugar?”

  “A lot of both,” Bree replied. Soon, he pressed a warm mug between her hands.

  Calla pointed her to a chair at the table. Bristling at the order, Bree bit her tongue but sat.

  A plate of pancakes, bacon and eggs landed in front of her. Though she wasn’t normally a breakfast person, she dug in. The activity of the night must’ve worked up an appetite.

  The house was quiet as everyone scarfed down the food. They were done too soon for her comfort.

  Calla leaned back in her chair and glanced at Bree, a soft, amused curl to her lips.

  Scott set his fork down and took Calla’s hand, then said, “We need to know about the band, Bree. I assume Tyler has filled you in on our problems?”

  Bree took a quick gulp of her coffee, then set it in front of her, gripping the mug and staring into the cream-colored brew. “To a point.”

  Calla leaned forward, elbows on the table, chin in her hand. “We know the master is after someone in the band. Last night, I caught magic from one or two, but most of it I couldn’t figure out. I need you to tell me who might be the target.”

  She studied everyone in the room, not comfortable sharing her own secrets, much less anyone else’s.

  Calla gazed at her with sympathy and understanding.

  Try reached for her hand, entwining his fingers with hers as he stared into her eyes. “We must know if we’re to be able to keep them safe and stop this evil.”

  She knew it for the truth. Her friends needed the protection. She couldn’t bear the thought of something happening to any of them. She nodded and began. “Ricky, the drummer, is a satyr. He’s earth magic.”

  “From what Garreth said, the master prefers earth magic types,” Ty said.

  A tinge of worry wrapped around Bree’s heart. “Kari, one of the back-up singers is a cougar shifter. But, there’s more beyond her powers. I think she received magic from both parents. Her dad is some sort of native shaman. She can do more than most shifters I’ve met.”

  Calla and Scott shared a glance.

  “What about the lead singer?” Ty asked.

  “Donovan?” Bree laughed. “Nah. That creep couldn’t find his ass in the dark. He pure leech—human all the way.”

  “Anyone else?” Scott asked.

  Bree watched him, bemused at the way he always seemed to be touching Calla. Even when they weren’t paying direct attention to each other, it was as if they sensed one another and reached out. His thumb absently traced hearts over Calla’s palm, yet both stared at Bree expectantly.

  A pang of yearning punched her in the gut. It would be nice to have something like that. Getting control of her strangely uncontrollable emotions, Bree reminded herself relationships weren’t for her.

  Still, her gaze drifted to Ty. Heat, desire blazed from his eyes, even though he was also waiting for an answer.

  “I’m not sure,” she finally said.

  “What do you mean?” Ty asked.

  “Well, sometimes, I feel power coming from Roy, one of the stagehands. It’s only on occasion. Most of the time, I’d swear he was human.”

  “I’ll check into it,” Scott said.

  Calla nodded. “So, tell us about yourself.”

  Ty’s cheeks reddened. “Calla, honestly. Can you ever not be nosy?”

  She smiled sweetly. “I’d like to know a little about the woman sleeping with my brother.”

  Ty choked, coughing as his face turned even redder. With the warmth flooding to Bree’s face, she figured she was lit up like a cherry.

  “Um… there’s not much to tell.”

  “You’re a fire elemental. Tell us about your parents,” Scott said softly, his voice kind rather than prying.

  “Not sure.” Bree clutched the coffee mug tighter. “I grew up in foster homes.”

  “Really?” Calla said, sharing a deep, loving glance with Scott.

  He cleared his throat, then volunteered, “My parents died when I was twelve. I spent time in the local catholic orphanage.”

  “Sorry,” Bree replied.

  “Well,” Scott shrugged. “At least I had my parents for a time.”

  Beneath the table, something bumped her leg. Startled, Bree sat straighter only to catch the playful smile on Ty’s face. His sock covered toes inched up her calf, his foot curling around her leg and pulling it closer. Then they moved up to her knee, and back down her calf.

  Bree brought her mug up for a quick drink, only to choke on the coffee.

  “Are you all right?” Calla asked.

  “Yeah,” Bree coughed.

  Calla stared at Ty, as if she knew exactly what he was doing. Ty just grinned and shrugged, his foot continuing to caress Bree’s calf.

  With a loud sigh, Calla turned back. “We’re all going to be at the show tonight.”

  “I’ve called in some local bounty hunters to hang around, too,” Ty added.

  “Just keep my friends safe,” Bree said, trying not to picture the things this mage might do if he got his hands on them.

  * * *

  Twenty minutes to show time, Ty settled in a front row seat next to Bree. The stadium was packed, the repaired stage set up and ready to go. In fact, Donovan wouldn’t shut up about how the superficial burns along the edges of the stage would only enhance the band’s image.

  Tonight, as promised, Ty’s bounty hunter friends hung out near the stage to ensure no tampering of the pyrotechnics. His sister and Scott were nowhere to be seen, but they were around, watching it all. Bree seemed nervous, worried their protections wouldn’t be enough to keep her friends safe.

  Taking her hand, he slowly rubbed his thumb over her palm, trying to comfort her. She glanced up at him, startled, then at their hands, her eyes suspiciously misty.

  Before Ty could ask what was wrong, the open
ing act came out and started playing. He continued to hold her hand through the show, even when the Grave Diggers started in on their screeching racket.

  Halfway through the show, there was no sign of the master or his minions.

  Didn’t mean a thing though. Instead of lowering his guard, Ty pushed it higher, jerking his chin at the other bounty hunters to get the message across. All six noticed, and returned his signal.

  Beside him, Bree gasped. Ty glanced over, worried at her pale face. She stared at their entwined hands. Ty realized he’d been unconsciously drawing hearts on her palm with his thumb.

  He let go of her hand, confused.

  Bree’s lower lip trembled as she whispered, “I need to get something.” Jumping up, she skirted the crowd and disappeared behind the curtain to the dressing rooms.

  Ty thought about going after her. He hadn’t said anything, but she had magic. Earth magic. The master might be after her. He’d set himself up as her personal guard.

  A spike of fear drove through his chest as worry for her safety flooded him. Doggone it, how’d he been drawing hearts on her palm? In his entire life of holding a woman’s hand, he’d never done such a thing.

  What was it about this woman that got under his skin? He had a sinking feeling she might be the one woman in the world he would never get over. But Ty was afraid he didn’t have such capacity for something like love.

  He pushed to his feet, only to have a wrinkled hand push him back down into the chair. Fred took Bree’s empty seat.

  “How’re you doing, lad?” the old man asked, his strange eyes, seeming so much younger than his appearance, kind.

  “Confused,” Ty replied ruefully.

  “Makes you like every other man alive.”

  “I guess,” he said, watching the entrance to backstage, wishing for a glimpse of creamy skin and orange hair.

  Fred chuckled, leaning back and crossing his arms over his belly. He stretched out his legs, groaning as his knees popped. “I’m glad Calla and Scott invited me down here. It’s still a bit cold up the mountain. This heat sure is good on these ol’ bones of mine.”

  Ty relaxed in his seat.

  He’d give Bree a minute before going after her. He wasn’t in any shape to figure out what was wrong with her, when he didn’t even understand himself.

  * * *

  Bree hurried down the hall to her tool room, slipping inside and slamming the door shut. With a quick twist, she turned the lock, then slumped against the door, her breathing erratic.

  What the hell was all this?

  The man had obviously not even been aware he was tracing little hearts over her skin.

  Her pulse rushed as her heart pounded, ready to jump out of her chest. Bree didn’t know what this was between them. She wanted to keep pretending it was just good sex, but she could no longer deny the deeper emotions etching out a place in her heart for the strange man who made her feel so… alive. So free, yet, at the same time, so not alone.

  She’d been alone her entire life. It was just the way things were. She’d never minded before.

  Yet, his presence seemed to fill her life with so damn much.

  It made her yearn for things better left alone.

  And she didn’t know what the hell to do.

  The doorknob rattled, then a knock came. Slowly, Bree pushed off the door and turned to face it, letting her hot forehead rest against the cool wood for a second. What was she going to say to Ty?

  Straightening her shoulders, Bree unlocked and opened the door.

  Ty wasn’t standing there. No one was. She peeked out into the hall, glancing left toward the stage area. A swift movement stirred the air to her right. Then the lights went out. Before Bree could turn, something heavy crashed down on the back of her head.

  Bree stumbled, falling flat on her face on the concrete floor as stars exploded behind her eyelids. Sharp pain raced down her neck and into her shoulders. For a second, she couldn’t hear a thing.

  In the darkness, she slowly shook her head. Raspy, heavy breathing grew louder, overlaid by the heavy bass thumps from the band.

  The power was still working. Which meant it was only dark back here.

  No one would notice.

  The person in the hall with her poked her shoulder with something sharp. She held herself still, waiting, trying to orient exactly where he was.

  Shuffled steps came closer.

  Bree waited until he was directly by her side.

  Quick as a flash, she jerked back, rolling away, while spinning to kick out with her boots.

  The guy cried out as her feet plowed into his legs, knocking him away.

  “Stupid bitch,” he growled.

  “Pissed off bitch is what I am,” she shouted.

  A dry slithering sound filled the corridor. Before Bree could move, the thing was on her—not completely human, but something else. Snakelike arms wrapped around her chest, compressing, taking her ability to breathe.

  The scent of old dust hit, her stomach lurching.

  The sound of scales rubbing grew louder, bringing the pounding in her head to clear focus, ratcheting the pain to an unbearable level.

  Her chest constricted. She couldn’t breathe.

  Sparks flashed beneath her eyelids as the need for air increased.

  She couldn’t stop from going limp, though she tried to fight it.

  The arms slowly lowered her to the ground, roughly flipping her onto her stomach. Bree searched deep for strength. She would not allow this… thing to just take her.

  Her foot twitched.

  The creature above her grunted as he grabbed her arms, stretching them painfully, behind her back.

  Her shoulder twitched.

  In a burst of energy, Bree bucked her hips, trying to turn over.

  The creature straddled her, holding her down. He grabbed a handful of her bun and slammed her head against the concrete.

  This time, the stars were dark.

  Metal scraped the concrete, intensifying her fright.

  She jerked around, frenzied. Claws dug into her shoulder, pushing her hard against the unforgiving concrete. Skin shredded, the sting of sweat pierced the wound.

  The coppery tang of blood filled the air as the claws sliced deeper. Agony ripped down her shoulder, draining all the strength she’d mustered.

  Her body wouldn’t respond, but Bree refused to give up. If she couldn’t fight him one way, she’d fight him another.

  Taking a breath, Bree called to her deep, inner magic. It slowly—oh, so slowly—responded.

  Metal scraped the floor once more.

  The air around them warmed. Sluggishly, Bree pushed heat the out from her. Flames roared to life.

  The creature holding her down screamed. Something cold slid around her left wrist.

  As if icy water drenched her, Bree’s fire went out.

  Footsteps banged along the hall, heading their way.

  The creature leaned close to her ear. “I’ll be back.” He disappeared in a cloud of noxious smoke.

  Bree tried to roll over, but she couldn’t move. Her head pounded, both from the hits and the strange way her power had come, then gone. Blood flowed from her shoulder, nausea filled her. She didn’t have a clue what might still be lurking in the hall, or who was coming her way.

  The footsteps came faster, running. Then, Ty was grabbing her off the floor. He barked orders to someone Bree couldn’t see as he raced down the hall and out the back door.

  “Hold on, lovey,” Ty shouted.

  Vertigo hit as she went from a few feet off the ground to many. A white scaled claw clutched her, as immense wings shot her and the dragon higher into the air.

  Bree had half a thought she should be scared. Only the feeling of safety came. This was Ty. He would not harm her.

  The world grew fuzzy as cool wind whipped at her clothes, the hair straggling from her bun.

  * * *

  Ty flew through the clouds, worry over the limp woman in his paw pushing him to f
ly faster than he’d ever flown before. He wanted to go to his house. It was close. The scent of her blood was strong, she needed to be looked at quickly.

  But he daren’t take Bree there.

  No, there was only one place where he was certain he could keep her safe.

  The mountain.

  Seconds later, a slightly smaller red dragon lifted in the air, flying beside him

  Ty bellowed a trumpet call of thanks. Calla’s higher-pitched bellow came, worried and rushed. Soon, they reached the foothills of the mountain sanctuary his family had called home for centuries.

  He circled the fourth peak before diving toward a crystal blue lake. Just as he reached the surface, Ty locked his wings outspread, catching the air and shooting over the water.

  As he approached the waterfall, he didn’t stop. Ty splashed through, holding Bree close to his chest to keep her dry.

  Landing in the cavernous opening, he shifted, coming to his two-footed form still clutching Bree in his arms.

  A second later, Calla landed. She blew fire near the back of the cavern, lighting the always ready bonfire, then shifted as well. Her clothes were in disarray.

  Sheepishly, she hurried through a narrow tunnel, calling, “Let me get some supplies.”

  Ty carried Bree to a wall near the fire and maneuvered open one tall cabinet. Grabbing a handful of blankets, he tossed them next to the blazing wood and gently laid Bree down.

  The sight of her crimson-stained shirt cracked something deep inside his chest. He wanted to howl, to scream until fear disappeared.

  As softly as he could, Ty rolled her onto her side and ripped open her shirt. Four deep gashes ran from the top of her shoulder, halfway down her back. Deep punctures oozed blood.

  “She’ll be okay,” Calla said, her voice comforting, as she set a pot of boiling water, some clothes and a well prepared first aid kit next to Bree.

  Calla pushed Ty back and began cleaning Bree’s wounds.

  Bree moaned, arms flailing. Flames licked up her palms.

  Ty clasped her hands, the heat tingling, but not painful. He moved in front of her, tipping her chin up to face him.

  Her flaming eyes were unfocused.

  “It’s all right, lovey. You’re safe. Calla has to clean your wounds and we’ll get you bandaged up.”