Taming the Alpha
Page 27
Eve’s heart pounded as they made their way through the dark yard. As they pushed through an iron door into a narrow street, she saw a sign that read Old Ursuline Convent, Louisiana.
“We’re in New Orleans?” The question was more a confirmation of her surprise than an actual question. He quickened his pace, forcing her to move. “I thought the portal went to Ohio.”
“It goes to a different place each Earth night, so do not think of ever finding it again.” He gripped her arm tighter as a group of people crossed the street. She felt his claws digging into her flesh. Eve had seen this man shift when she tried to run from him and knew that the drunken college kids taking a haunted history tour would be no match for a catshifter. “Not that I have to worry about you after tonight.”
“What do you mean?” Eve demanded.
“This is the Lalaurie Mansion, recognized not only as one of the most haunted houses in the French Quarter, but perhaps in all of the United States,” the tour guide boasted. “It is now owned by a very famous celebrity, but he never stays here—not since he heard the stories I’m about to tell you about its previous owner, Madame Delphine Lalaurie.”
The catshifter stopped and glanced up the three-story mansion on the corner of the block, as if considering taking her inside the empty home.
“You got me back to Earth,” Eve said. “Now just go.”
She was sure she could find her way back to the place they’d come through the portal. If she found that, she’d find a way to get back to Qurilixen, to Kyran, to the man she wanted to spend forever with.
“Ghosts aren’t real,” a man heckled the crowd, sounding more angry than mischievous. “Get out of the way. Sidewalks are for pedestrians. You know, pedestrians, it’s from the Latin for to walk, not for to stand.”
“You’re a dumbass,” someone answered him. “Sober up!”
The catshifter aggressively led her around the corner, away from the group into an empty street. They kept moving away from the crowd.
“Just go,” Eve said. “I’m off your planet. Mission accomplished. No need to hurt anyone here.”
“I saw you in the woods,” he stated.
“What?”
“I followed you. I saw you join with him. Even now you might carry his child. I cannot allow a shifter to be born in your world. I cannot risk your people trying to find us. The portal should never have been reopened, and after I’m finished, it will never be again.”
“I thought you needed women.” Eve tried desperately to keep him talking. She saw the deadly intent in his eyes.
“Shifter women,” he clarified. “It’s only a matter of time before we are blessed once more. We cannot lose faith by allowing humans into our world. Any child you bear will be an aberration.”
The man continued to mumble under his breath, but she could not understand the Qurilixian language. She felt the bite of his claws in her arm and the wet trickle of blood as he punctured the skin.
Eve ignored the pain. “If we’re so awful, why come here at all? Why not kill me back home? Scared the others will find out what you did, coward?”
“And let your human filth rot on our sacred planet?” The very idea seemed to make him shudder in revulsion.
A man came striding around the corner wearing absolutely nothing but a short pink tutu. She never thought she’d be so glad to see a crazy eccentric so much in her life. Mr. Tutu marched with purpose, and the sight of his pale naked ass was enough to distract her captor long enough for her to rip her arm free. Eve didn’t hesitate. She ran back the way they’d come.
The catshifter gave chase. He growled. The noise caused her to run faster. She turned the corner in front of Lalaurie Mansion. The tour had moved along, their absence emptying the street to being nearly abandoned.
Another growl sounded as she was hit in the back. Eve flew forward and braced herself for a hard concrete landing. Instead, arms caught her and she instantly knew she was safe.
“Kyran,” she said in surprise even before she looked up to confirm what her body knew.
“Are you injured?” he demanded. Eve shook her head in denial and he pushed her behind his back.
The second she was shoved to safety, he shifted and charged forward. Her husband’s roar met with the cat’s growl. Talons formed on Kyran’s outstretched hand as his body hardened with brown armor. The catshifter leapt. Blond fur sprouted on his features and covered his forearms. He didn’t fully turn into a feline, but to a standing cat.
Eve had seen Kyran shift, but the full extent of what that meant became incredibly clear. The cat slashed. Kyran deflected the blow and swung the man up and over so that he was launched into the air.
“Yeah!” someone yelled. The noise soon attracted others and a crowd began to gather. The cat slammed into the street, only to instantly push back to his feet to keep fighting.
“Get him!” another screamed.
“Whoo-hoo!”
“Yeah!”
Eve ignored the onlookers. She tried to find an opening to help Kyran. Though it was evident he didn’t need her help. He held his own.
The shifters fought their way down the street, toward the convent. The crowds followed, cheering and clapping. Eve screamed as Kyran was slammed into the wall. She surged forward to thump her fists against the catshifter’s back. Before she made contact, Kyran kicked, launching the man over the wall into the convent yard. Kyran leapt high into the air as he propelled himself over the wall to give chase.
The crowd clapped wildly now that the show was over. Eve looked for a way to go after the shifters. She felt people pressing forward. She turned, lifting her hands to push them back. Only they shoved money at her, tipping her for the performance.
Eve tried to smile, well aware that Kyran would want her to keep the dragonshifter secret even though he’d just battled down the French Quarter. When finally she broke free of the crowd, she ran down the sidewalk to the iron gate they’d used to leave the convent’s courtyard. Once inside, she found Kyran coming back from the portal alone.
“What happened?” She ran for him.
“He’s dead,” Kyran said. “I pushed him through to our side so he would not be found by humans.”
“How? The portal closed.” Eve wrapped her arms around his neck.
“No, it’s only hidden. If you touch the wall it will pull you in. Once activated, the portal will remain open for several hours.”
Holding him tight, she whispered, “I was so scared I’d never see you again.”
“I should have listened when you said you felt like we were being followed. I’m sorry I didn’t see it. The Var have never attacked us.”
“He said he didn’t want human blood polluting the shifter gene pool.” Eve began to shake violently now that it was over. Tears streamed down her face. “He was going to kill me. He…he…you came. I didn’t know if you would find me.”
“I will always come for you, my princess. You are as much of me as my own heart.” Kyran held her tighter. “I was worried you’d left me to come back here.”
Eve opened herself up to him, letting him feel her emotions—relief, happiness, love. “I love you, Kyran. I should have said it sooner.”
He smiled and nodded. “I feel it. I love you, m’lady. But when you were gone I worried you’d decided a life with me wouldn’t be enough. I saw you on stage with your music.”
“Yes, I do want to visit Earth, and I will, with you. As for music, I can make music anywhere. All I need is a guitar and my voice. And who knows, maybe I’ll find some dragons and start a band.” She stroked her fist against this cheek.
He pulled at her wrist so he could look at her hand. “What is this?”
“Oh,” Eve had forgotten she clutched the money. “Locals thought you were street performers putting on a show. They tipped you.”
“For fighting?”
She nodded. “If you’re going to go full-out dragon in the middle of a city, you picked the right one. New Orleans embraces the strange and u
nusual. You blended right in.”
“The gods truly bless us,” he said. “Shall we go home?”
Eve looked at her closed fists and then toward the hidden alcove where the portal was. “Not quite yet. We need to go on a small errand first.”
“You wish to use the trading paper to get a guitar?”
Eve laughed. “It’s going to take more than one fight to earn enough for a guitar.”
“Then?”
“Cheeseburgers,” she stated, keeping the money in her fist as she wrapped an arm around his waist. “We’re going to buy lots and lots of cheeseburgers. You can buy me a guitar later.”
“Mm,” he moaned thoughtfully. “I should like to see your cheeseburger ritual. I did not realize we are near the water so that you may enjoy it in your hip coverings.”
“You think cheeseburgers are only for the beach?”
He nodded eagerly. “I have seen your transmissions.” Kyran opened his mouth and gave a slow lick of his lips, mimicking a very seductive fast food commercial model.
A jolt of desire filled her at the gesture and she quickened her pace. “Well done, dragon. That’s exactly how you eat it.” They slipped through the gate to the street. “By the way, I won your little game. I never said I am your wife and you are my prince before having sex with you.”
“Aw, but you did tell me, wife,” Kyran pointed at her chest and then rested his hand over his heart. “And I heard it clearly, here.”
“I can’t argue with that.” She accepted his kiss, stopping to press her body against his. His arousal formed against her stomach. “Mm, we’d better make those cheeseburgers to go.”
“Always as you wish, my bride.”
The End
About the Author
New York Times and USA Today Bestseller Michelle M. Pillow, Author of All Things Romance, is best known for the futuristic dragonshifter series Dragon Lords & the mischievously magickal Warlocks MacGregor. Captured by a Dragon-Shifter is the start of a new series, but if you liked it be sure to check out the princes’ predecessors in Dragon Lords and Lords of the Var. She loves hearing from readers, so be sure to check her out online where you can join her newsletter.
www.michellepillow.com
Bound and Tamed
by Sidney Bristol
Bayou Bound #4
Rosaline Isnard is a woman on a mission to experience all the pleasures of the body following a devastating break-up. An arranged play-date at a private club with a dark new lover sends her on a roller coaster of highs and lows. As her damaged heart begins to beat again for a new love, she discovers that her mystery man has an objective of his own.
Kasper Hrna has harbored a desire for the hacker R0$3 since high school. Now, he needs that brilliant mind of hers to put a gang of criminals behind bars, but Rosaline has needs of her own. She pushes his control and the limits he thought he could keep on their relationship. What began as a matter of the flesh becomes one of the heart as Rosaline proves just how much power a submissive can have over her Dominant.
Chapter One
Kaspar Hrna shed his coat and handed it to the door slave. Tonight was not about pleasure, though he did have an itch to scratch. No, this evening was about business. Although he wasn’t sure how much could be done at a private BDSM party in the home of one of the wealthiest members of the local community. Here, he wasn’t Kaspar Hrna, computer forensics officer of the New Orleans Police Department. No, here he was Veles, a single Dominant and new to the city.
“Veles! Finally decided to join us?” The party’s host, Fletcher Perrine, strode toward him and pumped his arm. Unlike most of the patrons who preferred a uniform of black leather or nothing at all, Fletcher wore camel slacks and a plaid shirt half unbuttoned with the sleeves rolled up. From his mussed curls, Kaspar could guess the man had at least one round of play under his belt already.
“Thanks for inviting me.”
“Don’t mention it.”
“Is she here?” Kaspar hated to be rude, but his teeth were on edge and his patience short.
Fletcher tilted his head to the side. “Yes. Are you sure this is a good idea?”
“I am. I’d appreciate an introduction.”
Fletcher stepped out of the flow of people walking from room to room. Kaspar followed, prepared for the man’s objections.
“I’m happy to introduce you around, maybe find you a play partner for tonight, but Thorn is…” Fletcher sighed and ran his hand through his hair.
“Thorn is…?”
Black Thorn. One of many aliases used by a former hacker turned security consultant. And just the woman Kaspar needed.
“She’s a good girl, but she’s had a rough time lately.” Fletcher’s concern was genuine, but even more telling was what he wasn’t saying.
Kaspar wasn’t a badge-carrying cop, and his protective instincts rose to the forefront.
“If it makes any difference, I’m not looking to play with her. Just ask her a few questions.”
Fletcher nodded and gestured toward the back of the house. The old antebellum had been renovated to period style, but that was where the authenticity stopped. It was outfitted with X-shaped crosses, padded spanking benches, and every perverted type of furniture possible. The first time Kaspar had visited the house, he’d been more than a little impressed by its decadence.
His host led him out to a sunroom, where a buffet was laid out on one side, and small café chairs filled the rest of the space. It was louder, and there was no play going on here. A true social space.
“There.” Fletcher pointed to a trio of women.
Two were dressed in sexy clown outfits, but even with their outlandish outfits, the third caught his attention. She tossed her head back and laughed. It was hard to mistake her for anyone other than who she was—Black Thorn.
R0$3. Thorn. Rosaline. He’d ferreted out her names, using all of his skill at internet sleuthing until he’d found her. What had started as a juvenile crush had blossomed into something of an infatuation. Thorn in person was a hundred times more alluring than her photographs.
Her ethnic background was undoubtedly mixed, but whatever genetic make-up gave her the pale, caramel skin, high cheekbones, and generous mouth—it needed to be copied. Her hair was twisted up into a halo of tight, black curls, and when she laughed, they shook. She wore a short, black dress that might be a nightie to anyone else, but here it was a modest clothing choice.
She glanced toward them, and her gaze locked with that of the man standing next to Fletcher. Thorn paused in whatever she was saying, peering at him from across the room. He felt that moment deep in his bones, like an electrical surge.
“Introduce me,” Kaspar said.
Fletcher shrugged and led the way to the trio, parting the crowd with a nod of his head and a friendly word.
“Ladies, might I steal Thorn for a moment?” Fletcher took Thorn’s hand in his and led her a few steps toward Kaspar. “Black Thorn, may I introduce you to Veles?”
“Yes, you may, Sir.” Thorn’s gaze crawled down his chest with obvious interest.
Fletcher chuckled and pressed a kiss to the back of her hand. “Veles, this is our lovely Thorn. A rose without comparison.”
“Nice to meet you, Sir…?” She extended her hand toward him.
He wrapped his fingers around her palm. Despite her slight build, her grip was firm. If he were to attribute any word to her, it would not reflect a woman having a hard time. She was—dazzling.
“Just Veles.” Regardless of his personal fascination with her, tonight was about work.
“Well, my job here is done,” Fletcher said after a pregnant pause. “Play nice.”
Kaspar had no intention whatsoever to play, unless it was with words.
Thorn’s brow rose as he released her hand, albeit slowly.
“To what do I owe the pleasure of an introduction?” Her voice was a purr, so sensual and captivating, it was hard to pull his mind out of the gutter and back to business.
&
nbsp; “I admire your work.”
She held up her hand. “I’m sorry, I don’t discuss work here. Tonight is about…other things. If you’d like to discuss work, maybe we could do it over breakfast?”
He stared at her as her not-so-subtle meaning hit him square in the forehead. Well, that was a decidedly different approach than most sexually submissive women used.
***
What the hell had she just said? Rosaline wanted to stuff the words down her throat, but there was no taking them back now. Why did her mouth run away from her like that whenever a hot guy got within five feet of her?
She was a one-woman train wreck, and someone needed to put the brakes on her because she was out of control.
Veles…Veles, why was that familiar? Something about the name tickled the back of her mind, but with her brain so scrambled by tall, dark, and good-enough-to-eat she couldn’t place it.
“Guess that’s a no.” She shrugged, not sure if she was relieved or disappointed. As she turned toward her friends, Veles grasped her wrist, holding her in place.
“I don’t think I said no.”
She peered up at him. His shaggy, dark hair framed a face strong enough it should have been chiseled in stone. And he wanted her to...what? Make sure his antivirus was up to date? What did he think she did?
“No, you didn’t say no, but your eyes did.” Rosaline knew rejection when she saw it, and she was a big enough girl to take it like a woman.
“Maybe you misunderstood then?” He edged closer and it took sheer willpower to stay rooted to the spot and not climb him like a monkey going up a tree.