She closed her eyes and retraced the thread’s path back to its origin. The trail ended in dark smoke snaking from the chimney of a house across the alley.
Such a clever way to conceal demonic presence.
Amina spent a few seconds observing the demon’s visible signs of frustration bleed across the thread when it merged with the smoke. The smoke congealed, shaping itself into its true form. She couldn’t prevent her startled gasp and the sound seemed to carry through the window as the creature moved closer, powerful wings flared behind him. Belial. One of Satan’s Fallen.
Amina grabbed her sword and hurried downstairs. Turning toward the small parlor, she heard an insistent knock on the front door. No one could enter the house without an invitation from her or Drake.
The door handle rattled violently and she snorted. “Idiots just won’t accept a polite refusal.”
The parlor was chilled but brightly sunlit when she entered. She walked over to the bay window. In seconds, Belial’s presence consumed the air and space on the other side of the glass, casting a deep shadow over the room. Dark tendrils of power ebbed and flowed, leaving claw-like scratches at the window’s glass and casement.
“The fallen angel is definitely incensed, little one,” Amina murmured as she stroked her stomach. “Let’s see if we can make him choleric.” She regarded Belial for some length before she said, “Go away, Belial.”
The scratching became frenzied and Belial’s face darkened into a mask of rage and malevolence.
She shook her head. “I’m truly amazed Satan believes he can succeed against his brother with buffoons like you at his side.”
Thunderous vibrations shook the walls. Belial’s expression grew even more ominous. If the house weren’t safeguarded, she couldn’t imagine what his wrath would feel like. Swallowing her nervousness, Amina grabbed a chair and moved it before the window. She lowered herself on the cushioned seat and placed her sword on her lap. “To what do I owe a visitation from one of Satan’s Fallen?”
Belial’s fearsome look cleared, his face once again ruthlessly angelic. He inclined his head before his gaze met hers. “You will apologize for the insult you have given my Sire.”
“You truly must be mad to expect an apology in the face of the truth.” Her fingers tensed on the hilt of her sword. “Why are you here?”
“I have come for you, Tamahaq. The prophecy must be fulfilled and my Sire grows impatient for your mating to Mephistopheles. Open the door and come to me.”
A seductive smile creased Belial’s mouth, at the same time a gentle compulsion tickled Amina’s awareness. She felt her eyes begin to close and an involuntary looseness in her limbs as if she no longer controlled her muscles. From inside her mind, she observed her body respond to Belial’s compulsive pull, her torso leaning forward and her feet pushing against the floor. Amina fought the impulses and remained seated, her grip on her sword tight.
“You are more powerful than I was led to believe, Tamahaq,” Belial said. “Were it not for the prophecy, I wouldn’t waste your gifts on Mephistopheles. Come.”
Belial reinforced his summons by creating images of the violence that would befall Drake if she refused to obey the Fallen’s command. Amina’s heart stuttered at the image of her life mate impaled on a stake, an undead viciously clawing at his battered limbs. Strips of flesh were flung in the air while pools of blood jellied at his feet. Tiny black pustules clung to Drake’s face and hands. Abruptly his mouth gaped in a silent scream as the pustules burst into flames. She couldn’t block the vision of skin flowing like melted wax away from his skull.
“You can save him,” Belial said, his voice tinged with compassion. “He will not suffer such a fate if you open the door. Come, it is time to join your Consort. He will be a strong father for your son.”
Amina swallowed her nausea, deliberately biting the inside of her mouth to stop its resurgence. Her son chose that moment to stir, a visceral reminder of who she was. Her palm stroked her belly. Despite the smile on her lips, Amina didn’t mince her anger. “No one chooses for the Tamahaq.”
She drew in a deep breath to calm her rage. Her mind wove a tapestry of Drake and her unborn child. Their son had his father’s eyes and her color. Amina knew she would sacrifice her life to protect both. A sacrifice born of love, especially for the man who fathered her son. Although she had not confessed her love to him, Michael Drake held her heart and soul and would do so even when she joined Lilith’s daughters in death. Her smile widened and she lowered her eyelashes.
“Take my answer to Mephistopheles and your master.”
She created an image of an oasis in the bleakness of a desert. Strong, ancient palm trees circled the place of refuge. Thick branches interlaced to form a tight canopy against the harsh rays of the sun, shading the pristine pool fed by an underground spring. Quiet lay over the oasis, a blanket of comfort for those who found their way inside.
A desert breeze rolled off the hills in the distance, sending oscillating waves of heat toward the shelter. Two spaniels shimmered into existence and shadowed by a dark cloud raced toward the desert refuge. As they started to enter the oasis, the cloud wept and raindrops splattered the dogs. Their fur bubbled like acid and the whimpering pair tucked tails and raced toward the sterile harshness of the Ahaggar Mountains.
Amina laughed at Belial’s outraged shout. She had given the dogs Belial and Mephistopheles’ faces. “A fairly good likeness, wouldn’t you agree?”
In the silence that followed Belial’s outrage she wove another image. A solitary musical note rose in the wake of the dogs’ fading whimpers. A brown sparrow flew into the oasis, trilled its approval and landed on a large stone, a silent observer of life in the desert. Not far from the rock, a somnolent camel and her young lounged beside the pool, the overhang of a large palm leaf shading their rest. A triumphant screech rent the silence and a desert hawk circled before drifting down to perch on a rock opposite the sparrow. The hawk flexed her wings as her piercing amber eyes scanned the horizon. The bird’s wings suddenly became agitated, accompanied by excited squawks.
A light flickered in the distance and moved toward the oasis. The hawk eagerly hopped from one foot to the other until an emerald radiance enveloped the oasis and she screeched with joy. Time was motionless, anticipation heavy in the air, before the bird’s excitement expelled itself in a breathless rush.
A magnificent dragon strode from the light. Its luminous flesh, the vibrant coloring of indigo wings, and the striking clarity of its green eyes were unmatched by any of nature’s art. The dragon’s loving gaze centered on the hawk and he roared his greeting. Inclining his head to the hawk, the dragon lifted a wing, an offering of protection and care. The untamed bird’s head turned to face the mountains before it screeched and flew into the sanctuary offered by the dragon’s wing.
Amina lifted her eyelids, tilted her head, and stared at Belial. “Why would I shun this paradise and enter into the hell your master offers?”
She created another image and angrily pushed it at the fallen angel. It was the same desert hawk locked inside a golden cage, its wings clipped, and a gold chain around its throat. “This is not a life I’d willingly choose or embrace.”
Rising from the chair, her belly pushing against the trousers she wore, Amina peered through the glass. Her fingers gripped the hilt of her sword. “The Tamahaq has always been an enemy to your master and his craven sycophants. She carries nothing but hatred for demons, and those who spawned them. The Fallen and their minions should fear any union between Mephistopheles and the Tamahaq. I would behead him before I bed him.”
She approached the window, wanting Belial to see the true depths of her hatred. “Lilith was my ancestress and your master claimed her life. I was born to avenge her death. Deliver the Tamahaq’s message to the demon king. Tell him his time on earth grows shorter each day I live. There will come a day when I or one of my Tamahaq descendants will remove his head.”
Belial’s outrage slammed against he
r mental barriers and Amina winced at the sharp pain. Her shields held, but her head ached terribly from the inhuman assault.
Maybe she should have tempered her insults. Belial was, after all, a Fallen. Most likely the sire of a few demons she had killed. As the residual ache faded, she acknowledged this might have been was one of those times she should have held her tongue. Ignoring the Fallen one’s fury, she turned and walked from the room. She climbed the stairs, sighing with each step, weary of being a prisoner inside the house, her only companion Mara, the midwife Raphael sent.
Amina hated that she couldn’t engage the demons who troubled her each day. When would it all end? Would she ever be free of the destiny Fate imposed on her? Free to love her dragon and their son without fearing for their lives? Free to sail the oceans at Drake’s side?
A longing to return to the place of her birth swept through her. She feared she’d never see the golden sands of the Sahara, or the dark hills of the Ahaggar, or even the silly expressions of camels just before they spit. With the thought came a deep sadness and, as she entered the sitting room, her tears gathered. Drake’s scent lingered in the room and she inhaled softly.
“Where are you, dragon? I need you.”
“That was not wise, hawk.”
Amina’s eyes searched the room, her face joyous when her life mate emerged from the shadowed corner near the door to their bedchamber. She raced into his arms. “Drake.”
He kissed her forehead. His hands on either side of her head, he tilted it so he could look into her eyes. “I repeat, what you just did wasn’t wise, Amina. Belial isn’t a demon. Even I would hesitate when facing one of the Fallen.”
She pulled away from him, shrugged, and walked into their bedchamber. “I will not be seen a coward simply because I am a woman.”
“It isn’t about being a man or a woman, hawk.” Drake followed her. In two strides, he reached her and, his hands on her shoulders, he spun her around into his embrace. “If you were a man, I wouldn’t do this.”
His mouth claimed hers before she could speak. Amina’s lips parted and his tongue invaded her mouth. His kiss was deep, languid, and left her hungry for more. Lifting his head, he caressed her cheek. “Did you think of our son?”
“I always think of my son.”
Drake ignored the angry bite to her words. “What did the Fallen want?”
She relaxed against his chest, his enticing scent feeding the ever-present craving she had for him. His hands stroked her back and she softly moaned before she answered. “Always the same. They come seeking Mephistopheles’ queen.”
Amina stamped her foot, narrowly missing Drake’s. “I’m tired of this game. I should seek out the demon king and remove his head. That will put an end to this madness.”
Her head tilted up. Drake saw the unshed tears glistening in her eyes. “I just want it all to end.”
Amina’s words ended on a broken sob and Drake instinctively knew the Fallen’s visit wasn’t the cause of her tears. “What is amiss, hawk? What besides Belial has you trembling like a leaf in the wind?”
She pulled away and walked over to the hearth. “Nothing.”
Her shields wavered and he swiftly entered her thoughts before she closed herself off to him. Her memories were exposed, and it took a mere second to capture the angry exchange between her and Asiya. He also caught glimpses of the memories that led to the breach between the sisters. The most disturbing was Amina’s memory of their mother’s death.
He recoiled as the images erupted in his mind. Amina had remained linked to her mother’s consciousness while she was tortured and violated. She witnessed Daoud’s barbarity. To become the warrior she was, she had buried the memory in guilt-riddled silence, and made the burden of revenge hers alone. His hawk wept because of her sister’s fury.
Drake went to her, wrapping his arms about her while she cried. Amina’s tears soaked his shirt as he cradled her and carried her to their bed. He seated himself on the bed and nestled her on his lap. His fingers stroked her back, silencing her sobs.
“No one should live with such memories, sweet love,” he said softly. “Your courage far exceeds any man’s to have carried the weight of such horror at such a tender age. Understand, your sister’s anger comes from love. You have shared everything else with her, yet deny her this part of you. She would have eased your guilt.”
Drake kissed Amina’s forehead. “Asiya understands and will forgive. You must forgive yourself, Amina, and accept there was nothing you could do to stop your father.”
He kissed her lips. “I am honored to be the father of the Tamahaq’s child. To be your life mate.”
Amina stared into his eyes before she reached up and caressed his cheek. “The Tamahaq is honored to carry Drake’s son.”
Her hands cradled his head and drew his mouth to hers. She kissed him deeply. “I give you my heart, dragon.”
“And I give you mine, hawk.”
He stood and laid her on the bed. Desire roared its demands. This time he ignored them, enjoying the sight of her as she lay sprawled on his bed, dressed in one of his shirts and a pair of Moorish trousers. She flashed him a seductive grin.
Drake grabbed the dagger always at her hip and sliced the shirt open. The halves fell apart and, reversing his hold on the knife, he ran the hilt from the soft indentation at the base of her throat down the smooth valley between her breasts until he reached the silver button of her trousers.
Her irises glimmered like fragments of gold before her gaze dipped. It slowly returned, heated and seductive, to capture his. “Has the dragon lost his fire?”
“Is the hawk ready to feel the dragon’s flame?”
Her soft chuckle accompanied the sound of her knife piercing the bed post. Drake’s calloused hands slid the trousers off her body. He stared at the exquisite brown skin curving over the rounded bump of her belly. Unexpected emotions swamped him when a small bump moved beneath the taut flesh. He pressed his hand on the spot, felt the restlessness of their child, and grinned. “Your son is active.”
Amina rolled her eyes. “No, he is your son. He hasn’t given me a moment’s peace since he was conceived. When I’m awake, he reminds me he is dragon seed.”
Laughter preceded the gentle kiss he placed on her belly. “Shall I calm my son, hawk?”
“If you can.”
Drake shed his garments before completely stripping off the rest of Amina’s clothing. He shifted her onto her side and eased into bed beside her, his body spooning hers. His hand stroked her belly while his mouth pressed against the exposed curve of her neck. Soft moans of pleasure poured from Amina’s throat when his tongue traced a sensuous path from her shoulder to her ear. She gasped when he lightly bit her lobe, then licked the tender flesh.
“Did you expect a gentle dragon?”
A shiver went through her as he kissed the spot he’d just bitten. His hand moved sensuously down her belly to the curl-covered mound of her sex. It was damp and the scent of her filled the air.
He sucked in a deep breath, taking her fragrance into his lungs, his blood, and his heart. As always, his need to be inside her threatened to overwhelm him. It didn’t matter how many times he’d taken her or how short the time they were apart, the mere sight of Amina assaulted every fiber inside him. He craved her, never seeming to get enough of her taste, her scent, or the feel of her against his skin.
He kissed the birth mark on her shoulder, breathing in her smell as his mind replayed the words she spoke the first time he bedded her.
You asked who I am. I am the dragon’s mate, Michael Drake. I am the fire that gives you life. I am the air you must breathe to live. I am the mother of your true sons. I am Amina, mother to your daughters. I am your life as you are mine.
Neither of them wanted the mating or the obligations imposed on them by Fate. Yet, with better grace than he, Amina had bowed to Fate’s will. Though she resented it, she had accepted his decision to settle her in London. She gave no argument when he left to sail t
he seas and was there when he returned. His hawk fought to keep her independence even as he imposed curbs on her freedom.
In Amina, he found the other half of his soul. Her loyalty was fierce, her temper ruthless, her passion consuming. She was everything he wanted in a woman.
Drake inwardly cursed the family that tried to prevent him from making Amina more than his mistress. She was worthy to be his wife, to own his name as she owned his heart and soul. He hadn’t understood love until Amina, and what he felt went far beyond his youthful feelings for Caroline.
Were Amina’s life threatened . . .
I am neither Caroline nor Catherine. The Tamahaq will not suffer their destinies. I have no need for you to claim me as your wife. Do you give your love freely?
Drake nipped her shoulder before he licked the mark. “You shouldn’t be in my thoughts. And yes, I freely give you my love, my heart, and my soul.”
Amina’s hand reached for his penis and stroked it into a painful hardness. “Then show me.”
He tongued her neck and murmured, “Only if you ask sweetly.”
She sent an image of him entering her from behind, her intimate muscles teasing his hard shaft as he thrust inside her. Drake swallowed air and his knee pushed between her thighs, shifting her left knee higher so her fingers could guide him inside. He growled with pleasure when her fingers stroked him into her wetness.
“Amina, you don’t play fair,” he groaned.
Tightness squeezed his cock, a familiar burn that eroded his self-control. His life mate controlled their lovemaking, setting the cadence and tempo according to her needs. Her body sucked him into a wild vortex of passion with each clench of her inner muscles. For the first time, she didn’t conceal her need to take him, to pleasure him, to give herself to him. Usually, when they loved, she fought her emotions. Her feelings always locked behind an impenetrable barrier.
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