by Susan Arden
She hung her head. “Oh really. And just where are we going?”
That’s up to you, baby. We’ll talk face to face as soon as we get back.
Shay’s head snapped upward and she met his gaze. “As in person to person?”
He winked and flapped his wings harder, flying higher to reach her apartment, where he gently set Shay down and shifted into human form. “Before you run up those stairs, I won’t lay into you about running off, but that shit won’t ever fly again. Now, I get what you were upset about earlier. I have had my head up my ass for months. Then I came here with guns blazing and made another fucked up mistake. You and me—it’s hardcore because we’re hardheads. You have your own style, but running out a door isn’t cool. Either you learn a lesson or one day, you’re not going to recover. Do you hear what I’m saying, Shay?”
She leveled him with a wide-eyed look that went off like a bomb inside his head and landed full-force in his gut, but no way was he going to show any impact. This was so fucking serious—that douchebag Fae was still out there and this sick business wasn’t finished.
For once, she wasn’t coming at him with everything she had and when she bit her plump lip, his knees were ready to buckle. “Thanks for coming for me. Just like you said.”
“Baby, don’t thank me. It’s what I have to do. You’re mine. And what’s mine, I protect.”
CHAPTER 12
Drake paced while Shay packed a bag. He’d dressed in jeans and a black T-shirt but was barefoot, not having packed an extra pair of boots. His anger rocketed through him, fire in his veins that demanded retribution, but he couldn’t leave Shay. No matter how much he wanted to tear that Fae SOB apart, he couldn’t risk leaving her alone. Trust was a commodity he was running low on at the moment. He sure as fuck wasn’t going to airport, a wide open place with too many opportunities to run amuck. That made that decision easier.
“We’re driving your car back to Denver.”
“Instead of flying?”
“I repaired the door. If we leave now, I’ll get us to Denver by tomorrow.”
A knock reverberated on the front door, which he unlocked and swung wide, ready to kick ass. He stared into the faces of Trish and Solomon. Mara was behind them scaling the stairs, calling out, “Wait for me.”
“Here,” Solomon said gruffly, holding out a pair of hiking boots. “Might be a tad large, but at least you’ll have something on your feet.”
“Hey, girl,” Trish said on her way down the hall.
“I’m in here.” Shay poked her head out from the nursery. “Did you bring tape?”
Drake sat on the sofa, pulling on a pair of socks and then the boots. “Thanks,” he said to Solomon.
The bear shifter bent down and picked up a box. “All packed and ready?”
“Hardly. We’ll be back when things settle.”
Sol slanted him a look, bordering on total disbelief. “Why?”
“For more reasons than not. And mostly because Shay wants to come back.”
“That girl is stubborn,” Sol replied. “What else you got going?”
“A few boxes in the nursery. Just in case.”
Shay, Mara, and Trish appeared in the hall, their heads tilted together, and whispering. Even from the living room and in the dim lighting, he noticed the shadows under Shay’s eyes. She was tired but refused to sit down and let him pack up what she wanted to take. If he had an inkling that he could easily trespass into their female conversation he would have, but instead he picked up the suitcase and opened the door. “I’m gonna take this down. Give them a few minutes alone.”
“Good idea.” Sol ducked out ahead of him. On the landing he paused, sniffing the air. “Kee and Carl, where the hell you two at?”
Carl materialized from the shadows below, alongside Kee and Damien, who had his hands shoved down into his pockets. Drake was unable to resist making a wisecrack. “You finally found the courage to find yourself a date?”
“Apparently. Never knew dragons moonlighted as matchmakers,” Damien flung back. “Anything you need?
“Besides a woman who is pushing each and every one of my buttons? Naw.”
“She’ll keep you real,” Damien volunteered.
“More than that,” Carl said. “She’s got your back.”
Drake arched a brow. “And how the hell would you know that?”
“It’s the truth,” Kee retorted. “Vampire. Dragon. Fae. We don’t trust each other because we’re empath parasites to some extent.”
“How can you tell what she’s feeling?” he asked, aware that he as a dragon possessed the skill, and yeah, Fae did too. But those creatures touched to leach a life force. His in-depth knowledge of vampires amounted to urban myths and he didn’t know how much was truth from not. Vampires—the undead—weren’t on his radar. They didn’t like his kind and what Kee extolled was true. He wasn’t partial to them either.
“Shay saved me.”
He snorted, not liking the way this was coming out. He wasn’t in the mood for kicking some vampire asses. “Then know and accept, I’m here to safeguard her and I don’t need any backup. Thanks for what you did tonight, but I’ve got a handle on what to do from here on out.”
Kee held up his hand and mock saluted. “No one is going to overstep your plans Navy SEAL dragon, sir.”
“Oh you’re a riot.” He bumped Kee’s outstretched fist and said, “A regular bloodsucking wiseass.”
Carl held out his hand but he did so to shake, not rib him further. “God knows it’s hard to trust someone with horns and wings, but since we don’t have a choice and, apparently Shay sees something in you, good luck.”
He met the Viking’s violet colored eyes and nodded, taking hold of Carl’s cold as fuck hand. “Back at you.”
Shay appeared at the top of the stairs. Her voice and that of Mara and Trish’s floated in the air and everyone turned and stared. Shay’s skin was luminescent and had that same fiery glow he’d seen the other nights. After showering off the muck of the swamps, her hair lay in soft damp waves, cascading over her shoulders and his breath hitched like a bubble expanding painfully in his chest. He let go of Carl’s hand and fist bumped Damien.
He faced Solomon, and both men eyed one another. “Take care of her and call. Day or night if you need our help. We can deal with mountains, if we have to. It’s been awhile, but what’s a little less oxygen. Right?”
“Absolutely. We’ll be in touch,” he said, opening his arm for grizzly man-hug and slap to the back.
Shay joined them and she was swept into Sol’s embrace. She raised her hands in surrender and laughed. “Don’t think you can get rid of me this easy. We’ll be back and you’d better be sticking to your diet. Deal?”
“What do you have to throw into the pot insofar as making concessions?”
“How about moderating the flying by the seat of my pants. And that’s a whopper. So there. If I can make a few concessions, then so can you, Solomon. So c’mon, shake!”
“All right, I give you my word. I’ll stick to my diet, if you stick to thinking before acting.” Sol laughed along with Shay, but Drake noticed her liquid eyes peering over to him as she blinked rapidly. He drew her next to him, steering her to the passenger side of the Civic.
“Oh Damien?” he called out.
“What’s up?”
“Can you take care of my bike?” He tossed his keys to Damien, who caught them in his palm, wearing a smile that split his face.
“I’m on it. Literally and figuratively.”
“Oh dear God! Me too, I guess,” Mara said.
“Count on it.” Damien waved.
Drake settled Shay into the front seat, then walked around the hood, and climbed inside. “You ready?”
“I made this trip five months ago and yep, it’s time to go back.”
• • •
She felt the tension begin to build in her body as they crossed the Colorado state line and stopped for gas in Trinidad, a small town. She rubbed the kn
otting muscles in her shoulders and neck. “Want me to drive?” she asked, wishing to do something—anything besides sitting there and fretting.
“Sounds like you’re on edge,” Drake said in a low husky voice.
“After seventeen hours, a little.” She hadn’t slept for more than a few minutes and had spoken with Shawn briefly. Since they were going to get into Denver during the middle of the night, her brother suggested that they stay at his condo in the city but then he called back a few hours ago. Tristen reported someone broke into the apartment. Now, they were going to some business her brother owned that had guards. A club she’d never heard of but apparently Drake was acquainted with the place. “What do you know about this place, the Downtown Den?”
He held the steering wheel so tightly he made a funny scrunching sound with the grip. “Uh … you’ll be safe.”
She slanted her gaze over to him. “I didn’t ask about whether or not I had to worry about being pursued. What exactly do you know, Mr. O’Connor?”
Drake inhaled and she watched the familiar rise and fall of his chest. Holy crap, something was up. “This place isn’t like a regular club. It’s for shifters. Only.”
She blinked. “Why is that so unusual? There’s most definitely something you’re not saying. What the heck is it?”
“Shit, you’re going to find out. Just don’t lose your cool. Okay?”
“Mmm-k, I promise.”
“The Den is a sex club,” he said in a low, raspy voice, so soft she stared at him in disbelief until he nodded and his eyebrows rose.
“Hold on a minute.” She laughed so hard she couldn’t speak for a second. “My old-fashioned stick-in-the-mud brother not only has me put up in a sex club, but he owns the damn thing. I don’t freaking believe it!”
“Believe,” he muttered. “But trust me. This isn’t like any sex club you might have heard of before. The Den has a five-star restaurant and a jazz club.”
“But it’s a sex club. Don’t you see how this is gonna play out? All this time I thought I was the black sheep of the family and all along, my brother has been tap dancing around a pretty hot subject. Sex clubs are the rage.” She wrapped her fingers over his forearm. “I don’t mean like a dragon group kinda thing.”
He lowered his palm to her knee and squeezed. “Don’t give your brother shit about this. He and his friend opened this place to help the shifter community. Scads of shifters are arrested left and right if they turn up inside city limits in primal form.”
“Oh I get the reasons why. It’s just so flippin’ perfect for making my own case. Fine and dandy when it’s a stranger having sex. And speaking of strangers, exactly how do you know of this place?”
“Baby, don’t go there.” He exhaled and rolled his eyes at her. “I haven’t been back since before I first fucked you.”
“Seriously. Not entered the place.”
“Okay, let me state for the record, your honor, I haven’t used the upstairs. The bar, yeah I went there with Shawn and I might have run the security setup. Does that please the court?” he mocked.
“Holy shit! That’s it. I’ve got it.”
“Dear sweet Lord. What have you got?”
“We need to get Dimitri thrown off the council!” she volleyed back to him, folding her arms over her chest and nodding.
“Hold on. You do realize Dimitri and his kids sit on the council?”
“But he can’t if he’s in league with Dark Fae. It’s not allowed—forbidden and better yet, he can’t hear a case that involves himself,” she snipped. “I’ll have him recused and then removed. Booted all the way back to whatever rock he crawled out of. As a matter of fact, I’ll have Dimitri and his family recused … anyone remotely affiliated with him, and I want a ruling. If I have to study night and day, I’m going to know those ordinances so I can recite them in my sleep. If you don’t want to help that’s okay. I can go after Dimitri single-handed.”
“Not to rain on your parade, but he plays dirty pool. Guys like him aren’t going to roll over belly up, and admit they’ve done wrong. Fuck, Shay, there’s a word and it’s retaliation.”
“So what, we should just take this lying down? We know he’s in bed with Dark Fae. Who knows how low Dimitri has sunk?”
“This isn’t just a ‘What if the council rules against us for bringing up charges’ situation. That shithead will want retribution worse than he already does. We’ll need to get our ducks in a row before an epic and dangerous mudslinging ensues where he blindsides us.”
“He won’t. No one is going to trust him for enlisting the services of a Dark Fae against a shifter. Dimitri is a council executive. Some role model for mediating shifter justice. When the truth comes out, shifters will crucify him for being a hypocrite and a liar. Anyone with a brain is aware of the consequences of consorting with Fae. It’s so against the law. Human and shifter. I read some of those justice council ordinances. I wasn’t just sunbathing on the Mediterranean last summer. And maybe, just maybe, my parents will see this as something positive. Something I’ve accomplished besides and beyond my infamous act of running away. It might even get them to give me back my trust fund. That money is from my grandmother and it’s mine.”
“You don’t need the money,” he said in a hard tone.
She swallowed, not wanting to insult Drake, but they needed some serious cash to deal with this psycho Fae. “Drake, our babies are going to need protection around the clock, and from what I saw, that Fae isn’t going away.”
“Sweetheart, I have the means to protect you and our children. I’m not operating with blinders on where you’re concerned.”
She felt sparks of frustration erupt along her shoulders. What to do about this dragon’s ego and possessive nature? First things first. “Will you stand in my way if I go after Dimitri about that gypsy Fae?”
“Of course not, I’ll help you in any way I can. Christ, that admission goes against my better judgment.” He paused, exhaling as a muscle along his jaw pulsed. “You might as well know, my team texted me that the Fae’s name is Gustov Pestrolii. He not only worked with Necrodemas as his right hand man, he’s the marauding force behind the Unruled. He’s the one who’s directly responsible for the savagery. The brutal attacks on humans and shifters.”
“I remembered him from one of Dimitri’s parties. He said that Dimitri had sent him and he couldn’t wait to face you.”
“What the …! See what I mean?” he snarled. “No way are you going to go blazing into Denver and after Necrodemas. Promise me, Shannon Barclay. Right this second, or I swear I’ll turn this car the fuck around.”
“Uh, Dad, that won’t be necessary—”
Before she could finish, Drake slammed on the brakes and pulled off the highway, driving over the rumble strips and making her whole body vibrate. He stopped, flipping on her flashers. A vein in his neck pulsed rapidly as his pupils elongated. He leaned over, a click away from losing it, and hooked a finger under her chin, tipping her face upward. She stared back at him, clasping her hands in her lap, and felt their babies kick.
“Listen to me, young lady. I swear on all that’s sacred that I’ll go to the extreme to make certain you remain safe. I didn’t go back and deal with that Dark Fae piece of shit because you specifically asked me not to.” Instead of yelling, Drake spoke in a near whisper, so tight and cutting, she flinched. “Don’t push me, or I’ll be forced to take steps you, sweetheart, might not like, to keep that SOB and Necrodemas from harming you. If forced, I will operate unilaterally if that’s how you’re gonna play. Decide right now. Are we a team or not?”
She surreptitiously crossed her fingers, her mind spiraling on what to do, and more importantly how to get him off this subject before he extracted all sorts of vows from her. “Fine. I promise. We’re a team. You and me. Please, stop worrying so much.”
He crashed his mouth down on hers, kissing her hard, and thrusting his tongue across hers with the aplomb of a very pissed off dragon. When he lifted his face, he inhaled
deeply and nodded. “Okay then.”
“Yep.” Licking her lips, she gripped the door handle unsteadily. Damn, the man could kiss her silly. He put the car into gear and sped forward, rejoining the highway traffic. “So, do my parents know about the Den?” she asked innocently, changing the subject.
“I don’t suspect. But who knows? It’s one of those things where shifters don’t have hang-ups about their sexuality until they start to try and meld with humans. Then there’s all sorts of pseudo-religious issues on morality and everything—”
“Goes to hell in a handbasket. I believe that’s the saying.” She smirked and traced the edge of his thigh. “Are we staying upstairs at the Den?”
“Oh count on it, baby.”
CHAPTER 13
He gassed the engine, flying down the highway for miles until they hit the LoDo section of Denver. They didn’t even drive a mile beyond the interstate before they were idling at the wrought-iron gate of the Den as two security guards approached. Their eyes glowed shifter red. Beta wolves, and with their buzzed haircuts, he recognized a pair of jarheads when he was confronted with their Semper Fi seriousness.
“May we help you?”
“Drake O’Connor and guest. We have an appointment.”
The guards didn’t miss a beat and stoically asked for their identification. The first guard pressed the button on his mic connected to a headpiece, advising the front office of their arrival. Whatever was relayed, the guard reacted by straightening as he trained his eyes on them, nodding. “Roger that.”
The other guard advised him, “Just need a print from both you and the young lady.” The guard held out a scanner with a blinking red dot on the screen. He wanted to laugh. This was his idea and he’d set up the security program. Glad to see Shawn still believed it was worthwhile. He pressed his thump onto the screen and waited for the red to change to green. It did and he passed the scanner to Shay, holding it as she followed suit.
He handed the scanner back. “We good?”