by Kira Nyte
“I think his name is Maxim. Ask him something,” Alazar urged.
A few of the bystanders were prodding the gargoyle with questions. Although tourists to Nocturne Falls believed the statue to be just that—a statue—with incredible animatronics involved, the supernatural residents knew otherwise. Alazar’s next-door neighbor, Nick Hardwin, was a gargoyle. He liked the guy, especially when it came to their fun coin bets.
Ariah sipped her milkshake, eyeing the statue and the small flock of humans. Alazar glanced at his watch and sighed inwardly. The day was coming to a close at breakneck speed, and he had no way of stopping the inevitable parting once he brought Ariah back to Mark.
“I don’t think talking to a robotic stone is my cup of tea.”
“You also didn’t believe the vampire charming those teenage girls was real.”
Ariah twisted enough to give him an “are you serious” look. “The sun’s out. Aren’t vampires allergic to UV rays? And, he wore”—Ariah motioned to her torso—“glitter.”
“Magic and marketing strategy.”
Alazar lifted his thumb to the corner of her mouth and wiped away a small drop of ice cream at the same time the tip of Ariah’s tongue licked it. The feel of her tongue on his flesh stirred the fire in Alazar’s belly to unbearable proportions.
He had no conscious intention of leaning down, and certainly no intention of brushing his lips over hers. The brief, airy caress was nothing shy of electric, urging him to test her willingness to kiss him back. Slowly, he kissed her again, flicking his tongue along the seam of her lips.
She dropped her head and fidgeted with the straw in her cup. “I, uh, I think maybe we should head back home. It’s getting late and my uncle is probably waiting to eat dinner.”
If that wasn’t a sword through his heart.
Alazar straightened and cleared his throat. He shouldn’t have pressed his luck. He certainly overstepped his boundaries. Here, he wanted more time with his woman, and instead he gave her an excuse to leave his company.
Ariah finally lifted her gaze back to his. The turmoil swirling in her beautiful eyes prodded the dragon within him to try and calm it. He didn’t want to see Ariah, the woman he wanted to protect and cherish, in such a state. She held a strong front, but the fragile soul she protected shone through.
Alazar managed a half-smile. “Of course. Anything you wish.”
“Thank you.”
The sudden shift between them set him on edge. Had it been something he said? Was it the talk about gargoyles and glittery vampires? Everything seemed to be going just fine up until that little thumb-tongue exchange.
An unsettling coolness licked at his spine as he slipped his hands into his jacket pockets and walked beside Ariah toward his car. A few of the stores shimmered beneath a display of fairy lights, adding a magical touch to an already magical town. A couple of fortunetellers were setting up their tables on the outskirts of the park. A pair of witches began displaying their magical talents for tourists who had gathered to watch.
It was part of the beauty he wanted to bring to Ariah, and yet a subtle warning of resistance fed the cold that had managed to break through his fiery walls.
“I’m sorry, Ariah. I shouldn’t have taken the liberty—”
“Don’t apologize,” she said quietly.
Okay. That had to be a good sign. “Do you have plans for tomorrow?”
Ariah shrugged a shoulder, still playing mindlessly with the straw. She was taking in the town as night fell, but her expression was a mask of indifference. So unlike the woman who packed the backseat of his car with bags of clothes, laughed over the names of the ice cream offerings, and had spitfire comebacks for vampire Julian Ellingham’s harmless flirting.
He feared the strength in this special woman’s foundation had fractured and she was about to shatter.
The turn of mood was so fast, so abrupt, Alazar didn’t know how to respond. He did the only logical thing. Gave her a bit of space.
Maybe things were going too good.
One thing he learned over the last few hours: His darling lifemate was not one to be coddled. Problem was, he didn’t know if that was because of something in her past, or because she feared accepting support from another. She wouldn’t give him any indication.
It tore him up inside.
“Is there any other place you’d like to see in town?”
Ariah sighed. “I don’t know.”
Alazar bit the insides of his cheeks, refraining from asking more hollow questions. He wasn’t going to get an answer of worth and feared he’d shut her down even more if he pressed her.
They made it to his car with nothing more spoken between them. He held open the door for her, received a hushed thanks, and rounded the car before falling into the seat behind the wheel. As tempted as he was to brush the outer circles of her mind, try to calm her with a gentle whisper of assurance, he refused to invade her in such an intimate way. Her thoughts were schooled, completely closed off to him. Mark had taught her very well on the magic of her mind—a blessing and a curse at the moment.
“Is there anything, Ariah, that I can do for you?”
At last, she gave him a lopsided grin. It wasn’t much, but it was something. He’d take it. “I think you’ve done plenty for me today. Thank you.”
“There is so much more I’d like to do.”
“I think you’ve over exceeded. As it is, I’m probably not going to be staying here long.”
Alazar’s attention narrowed on the road ahead. This was a complete one-eighty from the silent acceptance he received from her earlier, and he had no doubt it was not connected to his misplaced kiss.
“Will you tell me what happened to you?” He started to reach for her hand. She knotted her fingers together in her lap and he rested his palm on the shifter, licking his suddenly parched lips. The dragon was breathing fire up his throat.
“There’s nothing to tell.”
She had completely shut.
He endured the painful silence during the remaining twenty-minute car ride. The occasional screech of the straw against the plastic lid raked down his scales as he tried to quell his swelling frustration. Not at Ariah. Certainly not toward his lifemate, but toward the secrets she refused to share to help him understand. The things that happened to her that she couldn’t trust him to know.
Whether the trust was lacking on his part or hers, he wasn’t sure.
Alazar pulled up behind the beat-down Toyota in Mark’s driveway and cut the engine.
Ariah was halfway out the door before he had his hand on his door handle.
“I’ll get the bags. You go on in,” Alazar said with a smile, trying to smooth the rasp in his voice. Ariah nodded once and headed away from the car, shoulders hunched, one hand punched deep into her jacket pocket. He watched her, a storm of confusion, questions, and lust whipping around inside him. “I wish you’d tell me what’s going on,” he said too softly for her to hear.
With a disheartening sigh backed up by determination to learn the truth, Alazar began unloading Ariah’s purchases.
Tonight. He’d learn the truth tonight, whether it be from Ariah or Mark.
One way or another, he was not going to let his Ace slip through his fingers.
Chapter Ten
“Are you positive you don’t want to stay for dinner? Miriam went out with some of her friends tonight, so it’s only Ariah and me. I ordered take-out. You won’t be subjected to my terrible cooking.”
Alazar tried to laugh at Mark’s joke, but couldn’t find the humor inside him to muster even a chuckle. Standing in the grand foyer with its elegant crystal chandelier, beautiful marble mosaic floors, and massive half-circle staircase—complete with an impressive dark wood banister carved into a miniature dragon at the end—should have elicited Alazar’s love of all things grand.
Instead, he found his dragon reaching out for his lifemate.
Ariah stood somewhere nearby, most likely listening in on the conversation.
The avoidance ate at him more than her silence, especially after the day they had together. She could hide her thoughts like a pro, but the darkness, the pain of her secrets lapped along his scales like foul water falling from storm clouds.
“I know my skills can’t compare to yours.”
Alazar forced a grin. “You haven’t forgotten, huh? Still love cooking up a good meal at the house. I think I missed my calling as a chef.”
“I think you’d burn the place down at some point or another.”
“Possibly.” He’d given Ariah more than five minutes to come out and join them. He hoped she would insist he stay for dinner. That hope waned, leaving him uncertain in his own clothes. “I need to speak with you, Mark. Privately.”
Mark’s smile faded and his shoulders straightened. Alazar held his Keeper’s dark gaze, impressing on him the seriousness of the situation. Mark swallowed, released a long, controlled breath, and nodded.
“Of course.” He spread his arm toward a set of double doors at the bottom of the stairs. “We can speak in here.”
Alazar followed Mark into an opulent office, impressed by Mark’s taste in décor of dark wood, dark area rugs, masculine leather furniture, and shelves packed with fabric-bound books and a few ancient leather-bound volumes Alazar recognized. An oversized dark cherry wood desk sat in front of the bookshelves, files and papers organized neatly in baskets.
Mark pulled the pocket doors closed.
“Don’t lock it,” Alazar said as Mark started to place the lock latch. He gave Alazar a quizzical glance. “Not necessary.”
Mark nodded once and crossed the room, slipping his hands into the pockets of his tailored pants. “What do you want to discuss?”
Alazar circled the desk, admiring the different dragon statues scattered on the shelves. It had been a very long time since he last fought against the ugly essence of anger. He hated the way it churned in his gut, reaching its claws up into his chest.
“You have the dragonstone in safe keeping?”
“Of course. When I designed the bookcase, I had several secret compartments integrated into the shelving.” Mark pointed to the far top corner shelf. Alazar crossed his arms over his chest and pressed his lips together. “It’s designed around riddles, a proverbial treasure hunt. One must figure out where the next mechanism is in order to get closer to the compartment. It’s secured in the wall behind shelves that will not move until they’re unlocked.”
“Engineering mastermind.” Alazar turned away from the bookcase and pinned Mark with a hard look. “Tell me what happened to her.”
Mark blinked once, then lowered his head. His fingers danced absently over his blotter. “Do you believe it is my place to disclose her secrets to you?”
“Are they secrets? Is it that bad?” Smoke curled out of his nostrils. He snorted, trying to get the scent out and succeeding in sending up a small gray plume. His dragon was rearing in light of his growing frustration. “She shut down, Mark. So, yes. I think I need to know what is going on. Or do you not know?”
“Would you like me to tell her about your past without your knowledge?” Mark retorted. He lifted his gaze to meet Alazar’s. “Not the gambling past.”
Alazar stiffened. “If it was coming between us, yes.” He shook himself free of the icy tendrils creeping along his spine. “But my past is not and will not. And you know as much as I do that I did everything I could to save him.”
Mark nodded. “But it left scars.”
“Death always leaves scars. It leaves gouges that never heal.” Alazar scowled, rounding the desk. He approached Mark, fire licking at the back of his throat. When he next spoke, the dragon’s deep growl entwined with his own voice. “What happened to her?”
“Put your scales away, Alazar. I’m not the threat. I would never hurt my niece. She’s practically a daughter to me.”
“Then tell me what happened. She’s my lifemate, and you kept her hidden from me all these years.”
“We were all hidden from each other.”
“She’s a female!” Alazar smacked his hand on the desk. Mark’s eyes widened. “She’s in danger. She’s always been in danger. If anyone found out what you are, what she is, her life would be sacrificed to keep our bloodlines from continuing.” He spun away, pulling the reins taut on his riled dragon. “Why didn’t you use the jewel before last night? Why didn’t you tell me about Ariah?”
“I didn’t have it.”
Alazar twisted so fast he left a trail of smoke circling around his head from the plume that erupted from his mouth. His vision pulsed, human sight melting into dragon sight. Mark straightened in the face of Alazar’s dragon self.
“You what?”
“I didn’t have it. I had a cabin in Upstate New York and it was robbed over ten years ago. It was one of the things that went missing. Mike and I tried to track it down together, but couldn’t locate it.”
Talk about trust. The bookcase was overcompensation for a prior failure. “You let my dragonstone get stolen over ten years ago and never told me?!”
Mark threw up his hands. “I didn’t let it get anything, Alazar. I was robbed, and it was taken. I guarded that stone with my life. The one evening I went out to the store without it, my cabin was broken into and ransacked.”
Every bad outcome of this news rushed through Alazar’s mind. It must have shown on his face, because Mark grimaced. Alazar glanced down at his hand. His talons had extended, gouging the smooth wood surface of Mark’s desk.
He left his talons right where they were. He’d probably gut the pretty leather chairs if he didn’t. His anger flared.
“How does Ariah play into this? How does all of her pain and her scars play into the loss of the jewel? I need to know so I can protect her.”
Mark’s lips curled back, his face distorted by the orb-like projection of Alazar’s dragon eyes. “I sure hope you plan on protecting her better than you protected my father.”
* * *
The battle to keep her chin from quivering and her tears from spilling took a toll. Fatigue plagued her. Her mind was exhausted, her emotions depleted.
Something inside her chest ached the moment she stepped into her uncle’s house. She escaped his concern with a flashed smile and a wave before running up the stairs to her room.
Her conscience haunted her. Her secrets thickened like black smoke, suffocating her the more she fought to be free. For the first time in the last ten years, she experienced the warmth of hope. That fine, flickering beacon of light in the distance that somehow attached itself to Alazar.
He was her greatest hope. He was her greatest fear.
He would either save her from this dark abyss or drown her in its deepest trench.
When she heard Alazar come into the house, she couldn’t help but slip out of her room and walk softly to the end of the hallway before the landing leading to the stairs. She pressed her body to the wall and listened to the conversation between Alazar and her uncle. As they moved into her uncle’s office, she crept down the stairs and stopped outside the closed doors. Guilt swelled, but curiosity drew her closer, tilting her head and angling her ear toward the crease between the two doors.
She listened, every muscle in her body tightening in apprehension as their conversation escalated from calm questioning to fury-fueled. She dared to open her mind, reaching for Alazar and her uncle, and received a flood of potent thoughts that left her sick. Alazar’s voice had changed to something deep and growly. A faint scent of smoke touched her nostrils.
She could barely make out what her uncle said a second before her mind was pummeled by body-splitting agony and anger that exploded from—
“Alazar.”
She threw open the doors and rushed into the office, heart threatening to pound through her sternum. Uncle Mark spun around, his hardened expression melting into one of shock.
Her attention turned to Alazar. Her good-natured dragon man had grown a few inches, thickened a few sizes, and cast black-tipped red scales alon
g the bone structure of his face. His eyes were both frightening and magnificent. The amber took on a fluid fiery color with a slashing pupil straight down the center. Smoke plumed from his nostrils on each exhale.
Fearless of the creature, Ariah stepped up to him, placed both palms flat on his chest, and stared up into his eyes. “Don’t hurt him. Please.”
“He won’t hurt me. He’s pissed, is all,” her uncle groused. Ariah didn’t take her eyes off Alazar when he added, “He puffs up when we discuss certain things.”
“You were never one to aim below the belt, Mark. I’m surprised by your less than honorable jab.” Alazar closed his eyes. Ariah watched in absolute awe as the man she spent her afternoon with regained control. The scales faded away and he shrank back down to size, although he was still an intimidating head taller than Ariah. When he opened his eyes again, his pupils had returned to normal, but the fire remained. He sucked in a deep breath and let it out, smokeless, before looking over her head at her uncle. “That was unnecessary and you know it. How much guilt rides on your shoulders?”
“Too much.”
“He doesn’t know everything about my past, Alazar. He only knows what I’ve chosen to tell him,” Ariah said. Her fingers curled around the lapels of his jacket. She hadn’t realized how powerful the darkness inside her had become in only a few minutes until Alazar tentatively covered her hands with his and infused familiar heat into her blood. She looked over her shoulder at her uncle. “You have nothing to feel guilty over. Nothing, Uncle Mark. It was my father’s choice, and ultimately mine. I could’ve left him and gone to college. I could’ve left him to deal with his problems on his own and my life would have been different.”
Mark frowned. “No, honey. You couldn’t have. That’s not the way your heart works.”
Ariah ran her tongue along her dry lips. As much as she wished her uncle to be wrong, he knew her too well. She loved her father and abandoning him was not in her genetic makeup. She’d sacrificed everything to care for him.
“Where’s Miriam?” Ariah asked abruptly, forcing the wretched name from her lips without a vile tone.