by Susan Arden
“Fine. Just don’t pick a fight with him,” she suggested, cinching her sash tighter.
“I suggest if you don’t want me to get into an argument, then you’d better be waiting for me in bed. And naked when I return.” He swatted her bottom before he slipped on his shoes. He’d be lucky if he didn’t lose it completely in Necrodemas’s presence.
Once outside Shay’s bedroom, he crossed the corridor and went inside his own room. Not this side of hell would he meet Necrodemas dressed as though he were on vacation. He changed in to his customary all-black work attire that included a Glock .40.
He descended the backstairs noiselessly as he reviewed the streaming video feed of the closed-circuit cameras from his cell screen. Necrodemas had arrived in a private Hummer accompanied by another man, one Drake didn’t recognize. He typed in a message to his team about the identity of Necrodemas’s companion and immediately received a response as “unidentified.” Fuck! He walked soundlessly through the small sitting area overlooking the patio, his attention focused on the pair out by the pool. He observed the two men through with the wall of French doors, perturbed by their odd behavior. He sent a text, alerting his security team to take their marks, and remain stationed near the patio area until further word.
Drake exited behind the bar, making eye contact with the guard who served as the bartender, and grimacing quickly. The bartender nodded his understanding, and tapped the handgun under the counter. Already one snafu and he’d have someone’s ass for admitting a guest without a proper ID check.
Dimitri sat lounging by the pool, enjoying a glass of Scotch he’d obviously taken from an open bottle on the tiki bar. His companion, a younger man with skin so white it glowed blue stood by the edge of the pool. The dude’s back was to the old leopard and he nodded, as though conversing absent-mindedly.
“How many I help you?” Drake asked so abruptly that Dimitri’s companion snapped his head around less than gracefully. The man no longer appeared ash-gray in color. Had it been his imagination? Drake turned his focus on his target. Necrodemas had spilled his drink mid-sip. Ah, one of the perks of being a noiseless dragon, Drake thought. He used it to his advantage.
“Dammit, Drake,” Necrodemas swore softly, sitting up and dabbing his shirt with a napkin.
As Drake got closer to Necrodemas, the other man—his bodyguard or whatever he was—switched his focus first to him and then the doorway from which he’d come. He noted impatience and a flicker of annoyance on Necrodemas’ face while the other man didn’t move a muscle. Not a blink beyond tracking him. Drake sniffed the air and scanned his infrared vision over the pale man. So, he was a werewolf. But not just any werewolf: he was an alpha and, oddly, he smelled of diesel fuel—more than a trace but that shit didn’t compute unless he was some kind of mechanic. Drake scanned the shifter’s hands which didn’t resemble the likes of any grease monkey he’d ever come across. For a summer day, the wolf’s dressing in a leather jacket was equally out of place. It had to be almost ninety degrees in the shade even in the early evening. He kept his focus on Necrodemas but remained cognizant of the wolf’s presence.
“I wasn’t aware that the head of Barclay security was now playing host,” the old leopard replied, clearly pissed that Shannon was not with him.
“Miss Barclay is indisposed,” Drake offered through clenched teeth, and not another morsel of information, preferring to watch Necrodemas’s reaction.
“I still want to see Miss Barclay. Just a word and I’ll leave.” Necrodemas stood and straightened his shirt, tossing down the napkin onto the table.
“That won’t be possible. Not today.”
Necrodemas narrowed his already beady eyes and shook his head. “I’m not leaving until I have the chance to speak with Miss Barclay. Alone.” He bared his teeth and Drake felt himself instinctively rise to the challenge.
He kept himself impassive. Any trace of heat flares resulting in him exhaling puffs of smoke would get noticed. His ability to spew fire was less than conventional among shifters and the thermal powering up in his body would clearly signal his anger, a dangerous Achilles heel for someone in Drake’s position. For all that he desired to wipe the floor with Necrodemas, for Shay’s safety and their plan to escape he had to remain emotionless. He nodded as though thoughtful.
Drake signaled to his team stationed at the corner of the pool house as well as the one playing bartender and the two other guards off the patio, observing from the interior of the villa. “Mr. Necrodemas, as I said, that won’t be possible. These are Miss Barclay’s instructions. If you would be so good as to follow her security. Thank you.”
His security crew came forward, two of them holding onto trained guard dogs. The pair of Dobermans growled as they walked by Necrodemas who ignored them. Each security guard was equipped with a semi-automatic rifle, not unheard of with the Unruled causing havoc, and the unspoken message was evident: it was time for Dimitri to take his leave.
Drake flicked his gaze over to the werewolf, Necrodemas’s companion, who cocked his head and smirked. The wolf mock-saluted him and arched his brow as he walked by but Drake didn’t return the nod. The werewolf stopped in front of the Dobermans and stared down at each. In turn, the dogs pawed the ground, lowering their muzzles, and fuck him if they didn’t tuck their tails between their legs. If his crew had not had the hounds held tightly on short leashes, these highly trained dogs would have rolled over and presented their bellies to the werewolf. Drake didn’t require a neon sign to fully understand that this motherfucker was the person to watch. The pompous duffer with the Italian loafers and Scotch stained-shirt was nothing but a front for the werewolf. Drake considered the leather-clad man who walked behind Necrodemas and out the front door of the villa. Fuck, he’d see more of that son of a bitch. He felt that the unshakable assurance deep in his bones.
• • •
Closing the bedroom door, Drake padded across the floor toward Shay. “Kiss me,” he said hoarsely, as a niggling itch expanded within him, provoking a sense of unrest and a need to protect Shay to the point of claiming her right here and now. All it would take was to sink his fangs into her flesh and infuse her with his serpent magick, linking them together as his dragon demanded. If she were his eternal mate, he’d have the means to secure her safety and that instinct flared in his dragon. His craving spiked for another taste of Shay’s sweet mouth and the softest texture of heaven he’d experienced between her legs.
He lowered himself to the bed alongside her, savoring the way she ran her fingers along his skin, gifting him with a seductive smile. “Come here,” he commanded.
He unwound the tendrils of his mind prompted by dragon instinct—one he didn’t fight. Since first fucking Shay, his desire to connect on a deeper level with her took over his mind and body in a driving urge impossible to contain. He wrestled with the idea of linking their minds together—a step he could take in setting a course to fully claim her as his mate.
Not that she was looking for a mate … but dammit, being a dominating dragon didn’t always rely upon democratic decisions. Shay was his, and she was unlike anyone else he’d ever encountered. On paper, she was a purebred leopardess who easily could rise to the rank of alpha. She was a million degrees different—and he’d had centuries to sample his share of every type of female—yet some essence of hers was achingly familiar to him.
In a split decision, he linked their minds together, but he couldn’t effortlessly delve into her deep thoughts to uncover her secrets as his dragon nature desired. Linking minds usually required only that he breach the walls of her consciousness by way of mutual physical contact and then plunder the recesses of her thoughts. It was the reason why dragons grew disenchanted. There were few mysteries after sex—so much that for years he’d not even wasted time with mind-linking. He fucked mindlessly. Not with Shay. For whatever reason, her mind wasn’t the usual type with lackluster corridors and passages. To uncover her mystery was as easy as following the path of a butterfly within the Amaz
on jungle.
“Don’t you ever get tired?” she asked, beckoning him to lower his face to hers.
He stopped Shannon, held himself aloft and stared back at her. “Not where you’re concerned. Wherever you go, I’ll find you, kitten. For another one of your kisses.”
“Really? Is that so? Mighty confident.”
“Yep. Bank on it! Now kiss me and show me how much you enjoy me fucking you.”
He picked her up and rolled over with her on top of his chest, but he held her from him, curling his fingers around her forearms. Her eyes widened, sparkling golden rays he didn’t want to resist much longer.
“It’s a good thing your dragon dick is as big as your ego.” She smiled and he lowered her to his chest, cupping her chin. Shay stroked her tongue across his, and he let her take the lead for the first part of this tryst.
He dueled his tongue with hers, going for broke. He reached down, squeezing the curve of each of her ass cheeks in his palms, rubbing his cock between his temptress’s legs.
“Mmm,” he groaned. “I need more of you.”
“Greedy.” She giggled, squirming and brushing her hips against his straining cock.
“Guilty,” he replied, almost to the point of asking her … Shit. He’d better get his head screwed back on before it rolled across the floor.
A buzzing on the night table and she cocked a brow. “You gonna get that?”
He reached for his phone, leery that it might be one of the Barclay clan.
“Are you hungry?” he asked, looking for an excuse to think about something other than hurling his phone across the room.
“I can’t very well order up food. I told my maid I was ill with food poisoning.”
“Point taken.” His kitten had a foolproof set of excuses for remaining inside her bedroom unable to visit that asswad Necrodemas. The more he’d found out about that motherfucker, the more he wanted to get Shannon secured so he could effectively go and settle a number of scores with that idiot, say when he took his walk on his estate at eight sharp each goddamn morning. Until he had Shay ensconced in his castle, he’d keep his spitfire laying low in Lisbon, naked and under him.
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.
“Dammit,” he swore. The phone call was from Noah, one of his oldest friends, a phoenix shifter and a Navy buddy. Noah was part of the small circle Drake had contacted to help set up the means to leave the villa and take Shay with him. Besides Noah, Drake’s crew consisted of Grant and Evan. They’d been tight during several tours of duty, dispersing since being discharged but they stayed in touch. He’d kicked around the idea of starting a private security company with the SEALS … well, fuck. It was time. If anyone could procure info to material goods, Noah was Drake’s go-to.
“Alley-oop,” Noah yodeled.
“You got my attention. News?” After a few sentences from Noah on the state of acquiring suitable aircraft, Drake met Shay’s inquisitive eyes, clenching his jaw as his gaze roamed over her naked body.
Cradling his phone between his shoulder and chin, he wedged her legs open wider and he knelt between her thighs, and ran his thumb up her pussy, then sucked in a breath at how wet she was. Every single muscle on his body constricted in blistering need. His cock stood at attention—he thrust his finger into her. So close and all he had to do was click his phone off and slam into her. She lifted her legs, squeezing the mouth of her pussy around his pumping finger. He faltered, beads of sweat erupting along his shoulders.
“Are you listening?” Noah’s voice came out louder. This was the second time he’d asked that same question and Drake silently swore, releasing his hold on Shay.
“Better focus,” she whispered and pushed away from him, shaking her head.
Her husky laugh didn’t help Drake’s mood when he crawled from her bed, silently cursing, and trying to focus on the conversation.
“Yeah man. I’m right here.”
“Oh no, you’re not!” Noah laughed. “Whatever you got going on must be something.”
“Seriously, it’s no big deal.” Great, Drake was surrounded by people who thought this was funny. His cock was not amused. It needed to fuck. Hard. Rough. Shannon.
“Bullshit.”
“Talk to me,” he grunted, biting his lip and casting a long excruciating glance back at Shay’s body draped over her comforter as she twirled her ankle and foot, biting the end of a stylus while she looked over her digital planner. Christ almighty, if he stayed within striking distance of her, he’d chuck his cell over the terrace railing, but Noah had info he needed to deal with this shit storm about to happen.
He rose and walked out to the terrace, where it was easier to focus and hopefully get his dragon side to relent for a few minutes. In the early evening, there wouldn’t be anyone about the grounds except for his security crew and he’d already heard them pass by with the Dobermans two minutes and forty-two seconds ago according to his watch. “So things are serious?” Noah asked.
He almost choked, unwilling to admit aloud the direction of his out of control dragon intentions where Shay was concerned. “What are you talking about? I’m helping Shannon out. Serious—far the fuck from it. She’s gonna stay at my place in the mountains and we’re back to rocking and rolling. I’m done with the corporate route. Way too mundane. What’s the news on your side?”
“Ah, fuck that noise you’re spewing about the girl, but okay. I’m game if you’re finally ready to start your own company. The plan is you’re going to have to fly up the coast.”
“Noah, I got that. I just need a plane. What have you found out?” He spoke low, careful to keep his voice from carrying out to the grounds below. Things would be even worse if Shay got wind of his plan to do whatever it took to keep her safe.
“Not good. Everything is on lockdown with the recent shifter gang attacks on high profile targets, making headlines all over the stinking globe. This is some fucked up shit and it ain’t pretty.”
Immediately, Drake lurched up and off the railing. He gritted his teeth and silently swore with several curse words in rapid succession as he computed the distance they needed to travel just north of Navarre to his mother’s family estate that lay hidden in a concealed valley. Castle Herensuge—he’d only been once. Years ago when he’d come of dragon age and it had been time for him to claim his heritage as the youngest son of his father and the only son of his mother who’d died in childbirth. He doubted Shay would much appreciate traveling to his home on the back of an ass. He glanced over as she tapped a text on her iPhone. Double hell no! “Noah, find something. A refurbished chopper.”
Noah snorted. “Dude. You’re not listening to me. It’s a no-go if you want to make tracks and not leave a trace. I’m talking … you have to fly her. As in dragon wings, talons, and paws. Up. Up. And away.”
“When I get back to the States, remind me that I owe you a round in the ring. Just you, me, and your messed up sense of humor.” He grimaced, leveling his shoulders, and gazed at the wide swath of rippling moonlit water.
After several seconds of silence, he heard Noah clear his throat. “Did you ask her?” His crewmate’s voice came out low.
He closed his eyes and did a few neck rolls, combating the trouble he had articulating his thoughts. Easier to remain closed-mouth than divulging to Shay what his dragon side demanded he do—claim her as his one and only mate. She was the type of woman he could get lost with and never regret giving up a life, living on the edge. She was so unnerving—she kept him hopping, not knowing what the hell to expect. Being near her was adventure enough and shit, the way she fought him—he’d have to hone his countermoves left and right for years to come.
When he didn’t answer, Noah spoke up. “I take it that’s a negative.”
“For now. I’m working up to it.”
“This isn’t a freaking triathlon. You don’t go and pace yourself. Hell. If anything, this is like parachuting from a plane. You got your pack. On three. Dive, man. And don’t look back. Just jump. I mean if she’s the o
ne.”
After excelling in free fall parachuting in the military, dealing with his dragon instinct about Shay felt ten times as dangerous. Drake could feel his face tighten. “Excuse me, but since when did you become so knowledgeable? Exactly how many women have you … ya know, claimed?”
“I got sisters, okay? And I know plenty about what makes a woman tick. Just because I haven’t found the right one doesn’t mean dick. I’m right on this matter. Do it!”
“Fuck off!”
“Are you scared? Shit, you are. Aren’t you?” Noah barked out a loud cocksucking laugh. “Damn you to hell. You got it bad. Bro, you got it so fucking bad.”
“Are you finished?” Every fiber of every muscle in Drake’s body knotted at that moment.
“Fine, Obi-wan Kenobi. I won’t say another word.”
“Just find me something that can be flown.”
“I’ll put the squeeze on some contacts. But it’ll cost ya.”
“I don’t care about the money. Get me some wings and I’ll take care of your contact and you. And another thing, I’m serious about being ready to open up a private security firm. Assemble the team. We’ll meet and talk.”
“If you’re serious.”
“I am. Like a fucking heart attack? You in?”
“Hell yeah! Give me a few and I’ll ring you back.”
Drake clicked off his phone and turned around. Shay was leaning against the patio doors with a glass in her hand. “It’s margarita time, and I have a friend I’d like you to meet.”
Flashing a glance at her reddened mouth, he exhaled sharply. Got plans for those lips. “Is this your new friend?”
“Yes. And she’s delicious. Care for a sample?”
“Only if happy hour is being served splattered all over your incredible breasts.”
• • •
Shay held out the glass to him and prayed he wouldn’t notice her hand was shaking. She could feel his fiery presence in her mind. Over the last three days, he’d had an uncanny ability to—God, she knew it sounded ludicrous—but it felt like they could read each other’s thoughts. At first she’d felt she was coming unglued, but she’d gotten out her cell phone and Googled the term alpha dragon male. Not the fairy tale myths but the studies conducted in hospitals and universities. Over and over she read about the phenomena of dragon mind linking ability that included crawling through a target’s brain and even erasing memories. Totally screwed up mind-warping stuff that only got more serious. After an initial touch, a male alpha dragon didn’t require a physical connection to do a mind warp—confirmed in a research project where dragons possessed the ability to mind link at frickin’ will!