Dark and Damaged: Eight Tortured Heroes of Paranormal Romance: Paranormal Romance Boxed Set

by Colleen Gleason

  “Have you shifted yet?” Godric asked Ember.

  “No,” she answered. “I don’t know how.”

  He scowled. “Your dragon might have been stunted by your low upbringing. Watch and learn.”

  Thane breathed a sigh of relief when Bryan pushed himself up, his human body in a feral crouch. A ripple of power rolled over the remaining humans of the Wolfkin pack, as they were overtaken by spasms of change. Their clothes fell off in scraps as their bodies morphed into their more primal forms. Lines of blue and red were scrawled all over their skin until bristling hair covered them. Their teeth shined white, lips bared. Their ears were erect.

  Bryan, the Alpha wolf, inclined his head slightly, as if waiting for a signal.

  It came from Godric, who burst into the flames of change. The shift was glorious as he writhed within an exquisite rose of fire, and then stretched into the sky like a shadow made of burnished silver. His wings, a latticework of scales, shimmered iridescently in the sun. A creature of legend, the dragon took to the sky, wings beating once, twice, and leaning into a circular glide. How Thane envied him that.

  A sharp bark brought his attention back down to earth, first to Bryan, and then to Ember, whose eyes had gone full green under a protruding crown of bone. Her hands were fisted, fire licking her skin like a lover.

  “Ember, stop!” Thane yelled.

  She knew he couldn’t risk shifting, so she was. Was she actually planning to fight? Never mind that she was twenty-five and Godric was at least eight hundred.

  “No, sweetheart,” he begged her. “You don’t have to do this.”

  But her gaze was trained upward. The fire enveloping her body deepened to the color of passion. Her chest rose, as if inhaling, and an Emmerich dragon—red like blood, red like fury, red like dawn—was born. Her head was elegant, spines fanning away from her face. Her neck was long and graceful, wings reaching with strength. She was sex, power, and beauty in their most elemental forms, and with a single beat, she launched into the air.

  She positioned herself between Thane and the lightning bolt that was Godric’s Tredan Silver, her long sinuous body rippling with each lift and stroke. The silver hissed at her, and she screamed back at him, a primeval sound that made a car crash on the street below the airborne dragons. Godric dived to get her to move, but she didn’t flinch. He feinted and almost got around her, but she rammed him with her bent head and sent him off course.

  On the ground, Thane had stopped breathing, his heart frozen in terror.

  It seemed as if the silver finally understood that she was defending his prey, because when next he dived, he did so with teeth bared to rip into her flesh. To teach her the hard way to respect her elders.

  And suddenly, Thane was in the air, too, the transition from man to madness a mere blink of sizzling agony. His dragon was a black, the largest of their kind, and he rose like the cloak of death on the world. He heard screams below as human observers ran for cover, but they wouldn’t be able to escape their doom. He was free! The dragon would take what he wanted. And right now, he wanted to split silver dragon skin and show the puny beast just who was king of the sky.

  The red and silver dragons were twined in an aerial struggle, teeth at each other’s necks. But when the Ealdian Black circled, wind lovingly caressing his long body, the two broke apart. The red dragon didn’t flee, but the silver one stretched, trying to get away.

  There was no contest, never had been.

  The black sliced through the air and latched on to the silver. A spurt of salty-sweet blood ran over his tongue, and then he brought the beast down on the exposed rebar, iron spearing through its chest and belly. The concrete and steel wouldn’t kill the silver dragon, but it would pin him to the ground.

  One down. The black turned to go after the red dragon, launching back into the sky. But once high on sunlight, its warm rays sparkling over his scales, the rush for blood eased.

  The Emmerich Red matched his speed, stroke for stroke, and he understood that she was his mate and would satisfy his lusts differently. The rage left his heart and the simmering pleasure of flight seeped again through his body, his mind clearing like the blue of day around him.

  Together, the Ealdian Black and Emmerich Red looked down as the pack of wolves swarmed over the bulk of the silver dragon and finished him off.

  And when a car arrived, and a slightly balding man with a short sword under his coat got out, the black dragon remembered himself. Thane.

  And flying beside him was Ember, his lady. His love. She probably wanted to be held. Or he did. Didn’t matter who wanted what, actually.

  He glided down and stepped out of the air on a man’s legs, easily in control. It seemed as if while Ember had been moving toward her destiny as a dragon, he’d been slowly remembering how to be man.

  Matthew held out a cloth of deep blue, and Thane reached for it.

  “It’s for the lady,” Matthew said, as if to scold.

  “Oh, thank God.” Ember said. Thane found her beside him, naked. Clothes never survived shifts. She gratefully accepted what turned out to be a silky robe. Matthew was always prepared…except he’d brought nothing for his lord to wear.

  “There wasn’t time for two stops,” Matthew said. “When I heard about the Wolfkin fight on the news, I made the Herreras break all the traffic laws to get here as fast as possible.”

  The wolves were still feasting on Godric. They would be the strongest Wolfkin pack in history.

  Ember nudged Thane. “We’ve got more company.”

  A dark car was parked at the edge of the construction site, and Ransom and Locke Heolstor stepped out. There would be no revenge for them at all. Godric was already dead and so was Lena.

  The brothers walked over to the gory carcass, and the wolves backed off, heads lowering as they acknowledged the dragons in their midst. Ransom looked down at the dead beast for a long moment, then turned his back and returned to the car. Locke spit upon the remains of Godric Tredan and then joined his brother.

  ***

  “Yes, we sent the messenger,” Nerea Herrera said. “At great risk to ourselves, I might add.”

  The woman sitting before Emerson didn’t look like she had risked anything. Ever. She was gorgeous—honey-olive skin, dark hair, dark eyes, all of her in a luster of health and well-being. Her blouse clung to her curves, and her skirt was slit to there, so that if she uncrossed her long legs, Emerson might just have an unwanted Basic Instinct moment. No, thank you.

  Emerson folded her arms. “An e-mail or letter or, say, a telephone call would’ve been preferable.”

  But arguing wasn’t going to turn back the clock. And really, all she wanted right now was to get away from people and put her head on a pillow. So much had happened that she felt like an anxiety attack was imminent. Maybe a long bath would help. The huge suite Matthew had arranged for her had a huge tub to match.

  “Pah!” Nerea said. “While you were being watched? There had to be no connection to us.”

  Because no connection is the very definition of ally. Right. Meanwhile, a pack of wolves were in lockup—to be sprung in the morning, Thane had promised—because Bryan had protected her, supported her, and showed her what kin meant.

  Emerson turned toward Thane and shot him a look of frustration. He drew her to him, and she put her head on his shoulder.

  “What I don’t understand,” he said, “was how Ember ended up in the human social services.”

  Oh yeah. There was that.

  Nerea lifted her hands dramatically. “It seemed the safest.”

  For whom? Emerson wondered.

  “That murderer Godric was in the Triad. Emerson was to be kept away from his influence and interests at all costs. Keeping her out of the Bloodkin world seemed the best way.”

  Again, for whom?

  “And then when you so stupidly announced your heritage to the Assembly for school money, of all things, I didn’t know what to do.” Nerea sounded shocked. Money didn’t grow on trees.
How did she think Emerson was going to pay for school?

  Thane growled, and so Emerson took up the questioning again.

  “Who is my mother?”

  “Ah, your mother was Nova Emerson, and hers was Mazarine Emerson, one of Godric’s paramours at the time of the Ealdian murders. She concealed her pregnancy from Godric and raised Nova in secret.”

  Nova. Emerson gripped Thane’s arm. Her mother’s name had been Nova. And her grandmother was Mazarine. But ick and shudder about Godric.

  “And my father?” The panic pushing at Emerson’s chest was unbearable, but she had to know.

  “Taggart Ackerman. A Green, for God’s sake. But the Emmerich blood was clearly dominant.” Nerea sighed hugely as if Emerson had escaped the worst. “They died together in a train wreck in Japan. 1991, it was. You were left in the care of their servant, a Jillian Stevens, who was…encouraged financially to adopt you. And here you are, alive and well. So my plan succeeded after all, even when Lena Orvyn was so determined to expose you.”

  Emerson felt Thane’s breath on her ear. “I’ll do some inquiries,” he said. “Find out if there are Ackerman relatives still alive.”

  She was concentrating on breathing. In and out. It was so damn hot in the suite.

  Nerea’s eyes opened wide. “Now. You’re probably dying to hear about the hoard, which is of course—”

  “I’ve got to go,” Emerson said to Thane. “Can you finish here for me?”

  She didn’t wait for him to answer, just set off for the bathroom and locked herself inside. She splashed her face with cold water and then slowly lifted her eyes to the mirror. She found a dragon looking back at her. Her skin was so hot, her muscles so tense that she clenched her hands to keep…something from happening.

  But the pressure was growing.

  She peeled off her clothes—anything to get cooler.

  She was on her knees, shaking with tension, when a knock sounded on the door. “Ember, they’re gone.”

  “Just give me a minute,” she called out. She didn’t want Thane to see her like this.

  “Ember, open the door.”

  “Not feeling so great here,” she said to be clear. “Need privacy.”

  Because she was having a complete and utter meltdown. She was due, actually, considering the events of the past week or so. This was normal. A good cry would help, if she could find the tears.

  A rattle at the door, and it opened, the doorjamb busted where the lock had been.

  “Go away,” she said, hiding her face.

  But his arms came around her, and he lifted her into his lap. “I forgot what it was like after shifting for the first time.”

  “Is that what this is?” She wasn’t sure she was ready to do the dragon thing again. The first time, she hadn’t really thought about it. She’d been thinking of Thane, protecting him. “What do I do? Go to the roof? Jump off?”

  He chuckled and stroked her hair away from her face. “I think the people of Santa Barbara have seen enough dragons for today. The Assembly doesn’t permit shifting near human habitation, but as Godric broke the law first and you were defending us both”—he smiled at that—“you’re not being held responsible.”

  She’d been all over the news—or at least her dragon had—and Dr. Buckley from the university had been giving interviews all day on his extensive knowledge of the Bloodkin. Any hope of secrecy was now destroyed. The Assembly was meeting, and she and Thane had been requested to attend.

  “Yay…I think.” She shivered against a burn coursing over her skin. “So I just wait this out?” Because that would be hell. She needed to get out of here. The roof actually seemed like a good idea.

  “You could,” he said, his voice deep and throaty as he skimmed a hand across her belly and lower. “But I can think of something better…something that will satisfy your dragon just as much.”

  CHAPTER 13

  Thane had security covering nearly every inch of his house, but Emerson couldn’t help but follow her nose down to the kitchens, dodging around the busy staff he’d hired for the occasion to find the creamy, rich, sugary smell of wonderfulness that had lured her from his bedroom.

  She’d left him in a naked, facedown sprawl, dead center on the bed, his bare feet and shins hanging off the end. But for all his efforts—and they were godlike—she wasn’t quite sated.

  Like a thief, she glanced over her shoulder to see if anyone was watching and then nosed into the big fridge, where—hallelujah!—a beautiful cheesecake with sliced strawberries decorating the top was waiting for this afternoon’s big celebration.

  Now here was the dilemma: She could exercise some self-control and forego eating what she was sure was a perfect confection until the party, where she could share it with everyone else, or… Considering the fact that they were celebrating her debut, it might be more in keeping with the spirit of the occasion for her to take what she wanted. Because…dragon. Therefore, taking possession of the cheesecake would in fact be honoring the occasion, and by extension her guests and her host.

  “Can I get you anything, my lady?”

  Busted. She shut the fridge door and turned to face Matthew. “It has strawberries.”

  “It’s eight o’clock in the morning.”

  Emerson blinked rapidly, thinking really hard. “Why is that relevant?”

  Matthew’s lips twitched. “How about I have Maria send you up a tray?”

  “Maria?” That was a new name.

  “The full-time, live-in pastry chef whom my lord Thane recently hired.”

  Emerson arched a brow. Live-in. “And why would he do that?”

  She didn’t officially live here, so why would he need the pastry chef to? Not that Emerson wouldn’t have said no if Thane had asked her to move in, but he seemed to have issues with commitment—never brought up the future—but after the Carreen thing, Emerson guessed she understood. So she’d been looking for her own place nearby. She could give him time; apparently, she had a lot of it.

  But this was an interesting development. “Maria.”

  “…will bring you a tray.”

  Still Emerson waited.

  Matthew closed his eyes as if he were struggling for patience. “And it will have a slice of cheesecake upon it.”

  Emerson grinned, went up on tiptoe, and kissed his cheek. “You take such good care of me.”

  She couldn’t wait until later when her surprise guest would arrive and she could introduce him to Matthew. Her guest had recently graduated from Harvard Law and had been recruited to work for the Bloodkin Assembly, where he’d just accepted a position. Apparently, Douglas Chandler, Matthew’s great-great grandson, was pretty smart.

  “It’s my honor, my lady.” He gestured toward the door. “Now, if you will…?”

  Get out of everyone’s way?

  She spun around happily. “I will.”

  ***

  Thane grinned when Ember burst into the bedroom. She was glowing, head to toe, her hair wild from lovemaking, her green eyes dancing with firelight. She seemed to have an excessive amount of energy this morning, but he was comfortable in bed…and a little apprehensive at the same time. He’d been planning this for a while.

  “We don’t have to be up for a few hours yet,” he said, wanting her all to himself a little longer.

  “We do,” she told him. “Breakfast is on its way.”

  She climbed up on the bed—and onto him—and kissed him loudly on the mouth. She pulled back slightly, and he gazed up into her face. She seemed to be in a very good mood.

  “Might I suggest a time-honored solution?” She waggled her eyebrows. “Breakfast in bed?”

  He took hold of her hips, sighing. “All right. I’ll compromise.”

  “It’s not a compromise,” she said. “It’s win-win.”

  “It’s a distraction,” he told her. “I wanted your full attention for a little while, and until tomorrow, I think this is our only opportunity.” There was the party, the guests, and then as the sun
set, a shift and a long, exultant flight, her official entrée into the Bloodkin life.

  “My attention is all yours,” she said. “Well, ninety-seven percent of it is. Three percent is impatient for cheesecake.”

  “I’ll take what I can get.” He smirked at her. “I have something for you.”

  “Oh?” She wiggled excitedly on top of him. He found himself getting…excited, too.

  “For your first shift, it’s traditional to give gifts to start your hoard.”

  She was already a very wealthy woman. The Herreras might have been lax about her—and he wasn’t ready to let that go quite yet—but they had been meticulous with every Emmerich cent.

  He twisted slightly and reached out to open a drawer in the bedside table. His heart was beating fast, skin heating with anticipation. He grabbed his gift and turned back to her with it hidden in his fist.

  She was smiling brightly at him.

  No going back. He’d waited as long as he could. Neither man nor dragon could wait a moment longer.

  He turned his hand over, and in his palm was a smooth, gray stone.

  She looked at it for a long moment and then went very still. Her face flushed, and her eyes misted, seeming to glow.

  “From your first hoard?” she asked.

  So she remembered. “The first stone I collected.”

  Did she understand what he was trying to say?

  She wiped at tears as they slipped from her eyes, but he didn’t know if that was a bad or good sign.

  “This is too much! I don’t have a safe place for it yet,” she said. “Maybe you could hold on to it for me. Keep it with the others until I do?”

  “No.” His voice broke. His heart would soon, too, if she didn’t take it from him. “It should be with you. It’s important to me that it stays with you.”