by ML Guida
Madness Unbalanced
Dragons of Zalara
ML Guida
Buffalo Mountain Press
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
About the Author
Also by ML Guida
1
Chloe Pitt pulled on the hem of her dress that hugged every curve, and clutched her wine glass tight, wishing she were anywhere but here. The Romantic Love Conference was for famous authors, not a scared pre-published one. She took a sip of wine to calm her twisted nerves. “Stella, this dress is way too short.”
Stella Evans cast her gaze over her and frowned. “No, it’s not. You want to get some attention, don’t you?”
“For my writing, not my boobs.” Chloe stood closer to the table as if it were a shield. She twisted her finger around a lock of hair.
Stella rolled her eyes. “There’s more to life than t-shirts and jeans. Jeez, live a little. Stop being so nervous. You keep twisting your hair like that and you’re going to look like a Shirley Temple.”
Chloe lowered her hand. “I can’t help it. When I get anxious, I twirl my finger in my hair. I’ve done it since I was a kid.”
“Relax, girl.” Stella looked at her empty glass. “I’m going to get a refill.”
“I’ll come with you.”
Stella narrowed her green eyes. “Are you kidding? We’ll lose our table.”
“It’s not like were sitting down.”
“So, I like putting my drink on a table.” She whirled around and glanced over her bare shoulder. “Stay here. I promise I’ll be right back with our drinks.”
Without waiting for another protest, she flounced away, her pretty, frilly, pink dress showing off her long legs. Her curly red hair swayed back and forth like her hips. She could easily pass for a model. Not Chloe––unless it was for Hobbit Magazine. Her legs were too short, and no matter how much she curled her hair, it was straighter than a nail.
Stella disappeared into the herd of men and women huddled around the bar.
Chloe opened her purse and took out her phone. She stared at pictures of her sweet Sam, a cocker spaniel, who had recently crossed over the Rainbow Bridge. Since she’d been gone, Chloe’s small house had grown bigger with loneliness. It was the only reason Stella had been able to talk her into coming to the conference.
Being here was better than wallowing in self-pity.
She stared at the picture of Sam lying underneath the ash tree in the backyard. It had been her favorite spot. She brushed her thumb over the screen, wishing she were stroking Sam’s silky fur. The photograph blurred and Chloe wiped a stray tear, hoping she hadn’t smeared her mascara for the twentieth time.
Stella burst through the crowd carrying two glasses of red wine, the liquid sloshing back and forth. “Chloe! Chloe!”
Chloe stuffed the phone back in her purse and tried to smile. But her throat swelled up with a lump of grief.
“Guess what?” She shoved the glasses onto the table.
Chloe jerked her hand back and shook the wine off her fingers. “Stella, you’re spilling the wine everywhere.”
“Will you shut up about the wine? I just got done telling Tom Burrows about your book, and he wants to talk to you!”
“You’re kidding?” Chloe looked nervously around for the handsome agent who everyone and their brother wanted to be represented by. Anyone he represented got sweet, sweet deals. “I thought he was only interested in contemporary––not Sci-fi.”
“He said it doesn’t matter.” She clapped her hands together. “Dragons are in. And he loved the concept. He’s going to come over here for a drink.”
“Really? I can’t believe you told him about my book.”
“My book’s already published.” She elbowed her playfully in the ribs. “The point of being here is to get your book published.”
Chloe immediately fluffed her hair and straightened her dress again. “Do I look okay? Is my mascara smeared?”
Stella sighed. “You’ve been crying about Sam again?” Her voice was soft.
Chloe bit her lips. “Yes, I miss her so much.”
She clasped her hand. “I know. She was a sweet little girl. Come on, you’re supposed to be having a good time. And just think––Tom Burrows wants to look at your pages.” She picked up a napkin and gently dabbed the skin underneath her eyelashes. “There.” She smiled. “You look beautiful.”
The crowd parted like the Red Sea. Tom Burrows strutted toward them. He was much shorter than she’d thought. He had blonde hair that was almost too perfect and dark brown eyes.
“Oh, my god. He’s coming over here.” Chloe’s heart beat faster than the blaring music. “Stella, I don’t know what to say.”
She laughed. “Just pretend he’s a cocker spaniel.”
Chloe glared. “That’s not funny.”
Stella slowly stopped laughing. “I know.” She patted Chloe’s shaking hand. “I’m sorry.”
“So, is this the writer you were telling me about?” a silky voice asked.
Chloe’s throat dried up and any words she’d had deserted her.
Stella shook her head. “Yes. This is Chloe Pitt. Chloe, this is Tom Burrows.”
Tom took a sip of his drink and smirked. “Any relation to Brad Pitt?”
Chloe bristled at the thousand-year-old joke. “No.”
“I was kidding. Of course, you’re not. Not even the slightest.”
Tingles swept up Chloe’s arm, every hair standing up as if she were Spider-woman. Sweat trickled down her back. Her senses dinged something was off. Crap, her power was shifting into full gear and she gripped the edge of the table. Damn it!
Don’t scry. Don’t scry. Don’t scry.
Oops, not listening.
She arched her back, her eyes fluttering and wham––her consciousness drifted out of her body.
“Chloe?”
Stella’s voice seemed far away as if she was yelling down a well.
Her soul descended into Tom’s body, sending his to sleep. People never remembered when she literally possessed their body, but she remembered––the good, the bad, and the ugly.
She shuddered as she looked at herself sitting at the table through his eyes. He was smug and confident, too confident. The word tasty repeated over and over in his mind.
In a split second, she was back in her body, gasping for breath. The whole experience lasted for about sixty seconds.
“Are you okay?” he asked, as he ran his cold fingers down her bare arm.
Chloe’s stomach tightened. She glanced at Stella who shrugged and raised her hands.
“I know you two have loads to talk about. I see an old friend, so if you’ll excuse me.” Her voice sped up and she refused to look at Chloe. Stella knew about her ability, but always pretended it didn’t happen, and when it did happen, she dodged her like a speeding bullet.
Stella grabbed her wine, spilling some on the table as she hurried away, her heels clicking on the floor.
Tom laughed. “I didn’t mean to scare her.”
“You didn’t.” I did. Thanks a lot, Stella.
“Well, don’t you be nervous,” he smiled.
She realized she’d wrapped a lock of hair around her finger. She immediately unwound her hand and placed it next to her side, determined not to do it again.
He held up two fingers and saluted her. “I promise I’ll behave.”
He stood closer to her, a little too close. “Why don’t you tell me about your book?”
She nodded and took a deep breath. “It’s a science fiction romance.”
“What? I can’t hear you.” He pointed to his ear and leaned closer.
She frowned. The bar was noisy, but not so much that people couldn’t hear the person standing next to them. She spoke louder. “I said it’s a science fiction romance.”
“This isn’t going to work for me. Let’s go to the pool area so we can talk. I have a private table there.” He turned around as if he expected her to follow.
She hesitated. Her scalp was prickling. Not a good sign. Something bad was going to happen.
Run. Run. Run.
The thought raced over again and again in her mind. She licked her bottom lip and took a step backward. She hunted for Stella, but she’d disappeared into the crowd.
He glanced over his shoulder. “I suggest you come, or you’ll be liable for making the biggest mistake of your life.”
She wasn’t so sure. Her scalp tingled even more. Following him could lead her to the biggest mistake of her life.
“Are you coming?” He frowned, his chin tilted up, reminding her of a scowling king.
“I’m coming.” Her voice was softer than a baby’s sigh.
She moved and followed him like a good royal subject.
Tom headed for double doors that led out to the pool area. Men and women sat on at tables or huddled in small circles. Fire pits were lit at a couple of tables and white lights were streamed across the patio.
“Hi Tom.” A woman waved. Lucy Hamilton was a successful author and her books hit the NYT list again and again. She was one of the many authors Tom represented.
“Lucy,” he said briefly. He didn’t stop as he headed for a table that was away from the others and dimly lit.
The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. She slowed her pace.
Tom slid into one of the chairs, then motioned for her to sit next to him. The chair was a little too close for her comfort. He cast his gaze over her. “Sit, my dear. I promise I won’t bite.” He licked his lips.
Her stomach recoiled. Chloe wished she were wearing her usual jeans and t-shirt for the fiftieth time. She sat in the seat but edged it a way from him.
He frowned but didn’t comment. He lifted his hand and motioned to a waiter who headed over to them immediately. “What would you like to drink?”
“I’m fine,” she said, needing to have her wits about her.
“I insist.”
She blurted. “A glass of red wine.”
“Yes, Mr. Burrows,” the waiter said. “What can I get you?”
“Cabernet?”
“Yes,” she nodded.
“Bring us a bottle of Caymus Napa Valley.”
The waiter bowed. “Yes. Right away.”
Chloe lifted her eyebrow. “A bottle?”
“Yes,” he drawled. “We have much to talk about. Now, this book. Tell me about it.”
He scooted closer, so close she inhaled his thick citrus cologne that smelled as if he’d bathed in orange juice.
She cleared her voice and started describing her dragon-shifter book.
He touched her hand, his thumb caressing her. “Not so fast. Slow down, my dear. We have all the time in the world.”
She pulled on her hand, but his grip turned hard.
“Release my hand, please.”
His upper lip turned into a curl. “Of course.”
The waiter came over with two glasses, the bottle, and presented it to Tom. Tom nodded and waved his hand. The waiter quickly uncorked the wine, then poured a small amount of red liquid into his glass. Tom swirled his goblet then sniffed. He took a sip.
“Very good. Please pour.”
His glass was filled to the top.
“Just half a glass,” Chloe said.
Tom lifted his eyebrow. “Half a glass? I ordered a bottle just for you.”
Chloe bit her lip, not sure what to do. She’d never been good with people–animals were so much easier to read. Animals were trustworthy and their intentions straight-forward.
She held up her finger. “One glass.”
“One glass it is.” He smiled, but his smile reminded her of a cat toying with a cornered mouse.
He picked up the bottle himself and poured the glass, then set the bottle down. “Now, a toast to your book.”
She frowned. “But you haven’t even heard all of it.”
“If it’s as beautiful as you, I’m sure I’ll love it.”
She stiffened. This was her first pitch ever, but she’d never heard anyone going through this. Then again, no one she’d ever known had pitched to Tom Burrows.
“Come on, drink.”
She reluctantly picked up her glass and took a sip.
He watched her, his eyes eager. “Now, the book.”
“Yes,” she said. “A dragon shape-shifter––”
Icy fingers moved along her thigh and she jumped.
“What are you doing?”
He laughed. “Sorry, my dear, but you’re so close.”
“Mr. Burrows, do you want to hear about my book or not?” Her voice sounded funny and thick. She took another sip of wine to clear her throat.
“Yes, I want to hear about your book, especially the love scenes.” His hand was back on her thigh, but this time, he descended it lower.
“Get your hand off me.” Her voice struggled to get the words out, and her vision blurred. The pool, lights, and his leering face swirled around her like a merry-go-round.
Oh, God, no!
“What my dear? I didn’t hear you.” He nuzzled her ear, his tongue slobbering all over her.
“If you don’t stop, I’ll scream.”
He chuckled. “Try.”
She opened her mouth to yell, but nothing came out except a whiff of air. “I swear I’ll tell.”
He narrowed his eyes. “I don’t like to be threatened.” He skimmed his hand up her back then grabbed her neck hard. “You’ll pay for this. No one threatens Tom Burrows and gets away with it.”
She winced, but it was all she could do. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because tonight I wanted a curvy girl.”
Tears welled in her eyes.
He licked her face and she shuddered. “And tonight, I’ll have it.” He forced another glass down her stiff her lips.
The pool swam around unmercifully, then she closed her eyes, and remembered no more.
“Chloe, Chloe, wake up!”
Someone slapped her face and she slowly opened her eyes to a pounding headache and dried up mouth.
Stella wrapped a towel around her. “My god, girl, what have you done?”
Chloe put her hand on her forehead. “I don’t know what happened. I don’t remember anything.”
Stella sat back on a chair. “Chloe, you’re naked…at the pool.”
Chloe’s chest tightened. “Oh, shit. How did this happen?” She clutched the towel tightly.
“I don’t know. You tell me. Tom said you threw yourself at him and said you’d fuck him if he’d represent your book.”
“No, no, no! That’s not true. He put something in my wine.” Tears streaked down her cheeks. She clasped Stella’s arm with her shaking hand. “You believe me, don’t you?”
“I want to…” Stella looked away. She lowered her voice. “But he’s Tom Burrows.”
Chloe dropped her arm, then glanced over her shoulder. Her face, neck, and ears turned red hot. Men and women were eating breakfast at the tables, giving her death and curious stares. “I’ve…I’ve…got to get out of here.”
“I’ll get you another towel, since your clothes are nowhere to be seen.” Chloe winced at her friend’s disgusted voice.
She wiped the tears away from her face and bit her trembling lower lip. Her heart thudded dully in her chest
. Before her career had even started, it was all over. People weren’t to be trusted.
2
The bells of Angarth Citadel stopped ringing, signaling another mate was about to be chosen. The light shone through the glass window of two dragons and fell on Drake’s cheeks. The warmth failed to lift the scowl on hiface. He crossed his arms over his chest and slumped in his seat.
King Greum lifted his arms. “Thanks to Ysam, another mate will be chosen.”
Drake grumbled under his breath. “Yeah, right.”
His friend, Isto, elbowed him in the ribs. “Shut up. You want the king to hear you.” He glowered. “Sit up straight.”
Drake reluctantly sat straighter and kept his mouth shut.
It wasn’t fair that Ysam had gotten a mate after his damn brother killed destined mates on Earth. With his Drake’s luck, one of those mates had been his. He didn’t know why he had to come to the damn ceremony and watch others find happiness while he never would.
“Rise,” Queen Cosima said. “The Fates are coming.”
The baptismal pool bubbled and frothed. Three glimmering lights rose to the top and then burst out, descending onto the altar. The first light transformed into Rillo, the shortest, but the most powerful of the Fates. Her dark hair was piled high behind her and her dark eyes glowed. Her robe glimmered as bright as Zalara’s two suns, Clostos and Blostos.
“Greetings, King Greum, and Queen Cosima.” She stretched out her hands.
The king and queen bent down and kissed the top of her hands.
“I’m pleased,” she said. “That Ysam completed his quest. I hear we have a baby on the way.”
Drake clenched his fists and his muscles tightened. “Not fair,” he grumbled.
Isto scowled. “Will you stop?”
Drake clamped his jaw tight before he said something really stupid.
The other two lights changed into Rillo’s sisters, Avenor and Ythei.