Fairy Rings and Dragon Kings (Book 7 in the Twilight Court Series)

by Amy Sumida

  Conri called and reported that everything was prepared for tonight, including all of them. The auction was just a couple of hours away, and Daxon wanted to be there to see that his security team was in place as well. So, we were finally headed back to Enchantments.

  “Are you upset with me?” Daxon asked softly.

  At his words, Ainsley and Torquil shifted uncomfortably. I don't think I was the only one who been lured over to the Dark Side.

  “Just trying to form a picture,” I looked pointedly away from him. This was not a conversation I wanted to have in front of witnesses.

  “I see,” he whispered. Then he tapped his knee thoughtfully. “You'll need to act more submissive tonight.”

  “What the fuck did you just say to me?” I growled.

  Ainsley laughed, then covered it by clearing his throat.

  “There will be returning customers attending the auction. They've seen me interact with women, and they'll know something's up if you walk around as you normally do.”

  “Like a woman with some self-worth?”

  “Like a woman who doesn't call me master.”

  “I'll call you masturbator if you don't change this line of conversation.”

  The men chuckled, even Daxon.

  “We need to sell the image,” Daxon tried again. “Even if it's not the truth.”

  “People change.” I shrugged. “Your interest in me isn't feigned. If anything, they'll be amused, but I doubt they'll be suspicious.”

  “Just do as I say for this one night, Seren,” he huffed. “This is my business; I know what I'm doing, and if you want to find those missing humans, you need to trust me. Haven't I proved myself enough to warrant the smallest amount of compromise?”

  “Fine,” I agreed reluctantly. “I'll try not to say anything too aggressive, but if you think I'm going to walk behind you like a geisha, you're sorely mistaken, Tromlaighe.”

  “Oh, she used my last name,” Daxon drawled to my guards. “She's gone soldier on me. Your princess thinks she's being antagonizing, but she's actually flirting.”

  My guards tried not to smile and failed.

  “He has no idea what he's playing with, does he?” Ainsley asked Torquil.

  “Not even a little,” Torquil said dryly. “Good luck, my lord; you'll need it.”

  Daxon blinked at that and looked at me in surprise. I gave him a blank stare and then gasped. I'd been so distracted that I hadn't felt twilight approaching. Ainsley, Torquil, and I sighed together as the magic filled us. I leaned my head back against the leather seat and closed my eyes to the pleasure of the twilight energy rushing through my veins. I felt Daxon's hand slip into mine and then heard him gasp. A smile flitted across my face as I squeezed his hand. You want to feel some power, Dax? I got something you've never felt before. Instead of just letting him coast on the outskirts of my magic-rush, I pushed a little of it into him.

  Daxon cried out as his hand clenched in mine. I opened my eyes and glanced over. His head was thrown back in ecstasy, his free hand gripping the leather seat, and his entire body tightened as if he were touching an electric current. His lips were parted and trembling, and I couldn't resist trailing a fingertip over them. Lavender light sparked between us, and Daxon moaned. I pulled the magic back and eased my hand out of his with a smirk.

  Daxon opened his eyes and stared at me like I was Danu come to Earth.

  “Now, he has an inkling,” Ainsley said smugly.

  I smiled wider; I may have been a bit smug myself.

  Chapter Forty-One

  Daxon introduced Ainsley and Torquil to his security team, and had his men “show the Princess' guards the ropes.” I began to protest, but he assured me that they would be in the room with us later. They needed to look as if they were his men, not mine, or that would definitely arouse suspicions. I gave in and let him lead me away from my guards.

  “How about a little dinner before we do business?” Daxon asked as he opened the door to his office.

  “Sure, I could eat,” I agreed.

  He smiled and went to the phone on his desk. Daxon ordered us some dinner then ushered me through a door at the back of the room. It opened into a larger room with a full-sized, ebony dining set, and a mammoth, four-poster bed covered in red velvet. I stopped short, staring at the bed, then looked around at the rest of the décor. Heavy bookshelves, old artwork, and an armoire lined the walls. The floor was white marble covered with Persian rugs, and there was even a small desk in one corner with a crystal ball on it. But none of those things disturbed me; it was the chains I noticed, curled around the base of each bedpost. There was also a heavy, wooden chest at the foot of the bed that looked ominous.

  “Who the fuck are you: Dracula?” I huffed.

  “That's not a coffin.” Daxon chuckled as he waved a hand toward the bed.

  “There are no windows in here either.”

  “It's a nightclub in LA.” Daxon rolled his eyes. “There aren't any views worth looking at.”

  “Fair enough,” I conceded. “But that thing is ridiculous. Who has a bed like that behind their office?”

  “I run all of my businesses from here. When you spend so much time in one place, you have to make sure it can accommodate all of your needs.”

  “And what need do the chains accommodate?” I lifted a brow.

  “Please stop pretending to be surprised.” He sighed. “It's getting tedious.”

  “Oh, I'm not surprised,” I protested. “But that doesn't mean I can't give you shit about this.”

  “Let's concentrate on one hunger at a time, shall we?” Daxon purred as he turned me toward the dining table. “Have a seat, Seren.”

  I sat down, and he went to a sideboard to pour us some drinks. Dax set a glass before me, and I sniffed it. Whiskey. I set it back down and slid it away.

  “You think we're in a movie or something?” I huffed. “No one drinks that shit straight.”

  Daxon burst into laughter just as a knock came at the office door. He shot back his whiskey, and then called out for whoever it was to enter. As two apsaras glided in and started laying out a meal, Dax sauntered over to me and took my discarded drink. He shot that too—the show-off—and then asked one of the women to bring us some wine.

  “And water, please,” I called after her.

  “I never would have pegged you as such a pussy,” Daxon teased.

  “Yeah, that's the way to woo a woman, Daxon; call her a pussy.” I grimaced. “Then more cool points have been deducted.”

  “Wooing”—he laughed—“there's a concept. I thought I was doing a pretty good job of that already; dinner, massage, new clothes, now another dinner.” He dished out the food and then sat at the head of the table; the seat beside mine. “Did I lose all that headway with one word?”

  “Words are powerful.” I smirked.

  “And some of us don't need them at all,” he whispered. “Was that what you feel every day?”

  “The twilight magic?” I asked, and he nodded. “Yes; dusk and dawn. We don't have as much time as you others do, so the power is condensed.”

  “It's amazing.”

  “Yeah, Tiernan likes to hold me when ...” I trailed off as I saw his face shift. “Sorry; this is weird.”

  “Indeed,” he agreed. “Don't feel as if you can't talk about them with me. If I'm to become one of them, I'll need to adjust to being a man who shares. Ugh, how did I even get here?”

  Daxon made a sour face, and I laughed.

  “I don't know how they do it,” I said honestly. “I couldn't share any of them. I'm much too possessive.”

  “We're fairies; we have a different view on sex and relationships.” Daxon shrugged. “I've just acclimated to human culture and have adopted their more barbaric ways.”

  He waggled his brows at me and paused the conversation as an apsara returned to set a bottle of wine, glasses, and a bottle of water on the table. She gave us respectful nods and left, closing the office door behind her.

 
“But I'm a little surprised that King Raza is okay with it; dragons are a different breed of fairy,” Daxon resumed. “They're not known to be the sharing type. At least not when it involves someone they truly treasure.”

  “Raza was willing to compromise when I was with Tiernan,” I said. “Then I fought with Tiernan and got together with Raza. He had a taste of being the only one and wasn't too keen on sharing after that.”

  “What changed his mind?”

  “Danu,” I whispered. “She spoke to them all.”

  “Danu spoke to them?” Daxon asked with shock. “I've heard rumors of her making herself known again, and even of her speaking—to you—but she speaks to others?”

  “Yep.” I nodded. “She's back in full force, but she can't...” I trailed off, my eyes going wide.

  “What?”

  “She can't speak to anyone here.” I set my speculative stare on him. “This is Anu's domain.”

  “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “Because this can't be her Call,” I growled. “She can't reach us here.”

  “Can't she?” Daxon huffed. “She may not be able to speak to us, but we are fey, we are the Children of Danu, and our mother can touch our hearts no matter where she is.”

  I frowned and considered it. Tiernan and I had first felt the Call in San Francisco, so maybe Daxon was right. Maybe Danu could touch us here; she just couldn't be heard. I sighed and gave up. Trying to figure out the gods was a waste of time; I learned that awhile back. In the end, it didn't matter whether this was the Call of Danu or not; I wanted Daxon. The real problem was what this desire might do to my life, and the men I already loved. There was the truth of it; if this was Danu's doing, I had an excuse to be with Dax. If it wasn't; I was just greedy.

  “I have to know for sure,” I finally said.

  “Whether we have Danu's blessing or not?” Daxon asked; surprisingly without rancor.

  “Yes. Can you understand why?”

  “Yes,” he admitted softly. “It's the same for me. If this is our Goddess laying her hand upon our lives, I can change without feeling like less of a man.”

  “But if you alter your life for some woman you barely know”—I smirked—“then you would be the pussy?”

  “Yes, precisely,” he agreed with complete seriousness. “And I think I've proved by downing those two whiskeys that I'm no pussy.”

  I burst into laughter which petered out to a soft smile. Then my gaze trailed down to the open collar of Daxon's dress shirt. The swirl of a dark blue line peeped out.

  “Why the tattoos?” I asked. “Is it just adornment or did you have something extra added at Inkantations?”

  “They're a little more than artwork,” he confirmed. “Are you not familiar with the technique?”

  I shook my head.

  “I'm surprised that you haven't encountered enchanted tattoos before,” Daxon said. “You were an extinguisher in San Francisco, right? That's where the process originated.”

  “It was where I trained.” I swallowed past a lump in my throat as memories of my time there surfaced; a time when my family was still alive. “My father and I moved to Hawaii after my mother died.”

  “What happened to her?” He asked gently.

  “You don't know?” I asked with surprise. “Maybe that's egotistical of me to assume that you did. I guess trauma like that makes you feel as if the whole world should know about it.”

  “And then there's the fact that you're such a public figure,” he added with a gentle smile. “It wasn't egotistical; I did know that she died. I've heard about hers and your adopted father's deaths. I know that Extinguisher Ewan Sloane was killed by Queen Rue, but I've never heard the story of how your mother died.”

  “My Uncle Uisdean sent a pack of pukas to tear her apart,” I spoke without emotion; it was the only way I could say those words. “He didn't want her bringing me to Fairy, and he certainly didn't want her to be Queen of Twilight.”

  “Dear Danu,” he whispered. “So your uncle killed your mother, and then your aunt killed your father. That's terrible. I'm so sorry, Seren.”

  “Uisdean was an evil man. You know that already, I'm sure,” I said. “But there were moments when I sympathized with him, even understood him. It makes me wonder about myself sometimes.”

  “That what; you might be evil too, just because you can see the good in people?”

  I made a huffing sound and smiled. “When you put it like that, it sounds much better.”

  “Danu chose you to be a bridge, didn't she?” Daxon asked. “This whole ambassador thing was her doing, even though it was the Councils who gave you the title.”

  “Yes.” I smiled at his intuition. “And I see what you're getting at. You think she made me this way; that I was born to see the similarities between people instead of the differences.”

  “Damn, that's deep.” He whistled. “I was just going to say that she made you sweet.”

  I blinked at him, and he started to laugh.

  “Yes, that was what I was getting at,” Daxon confirmed. “Perhaps you should use that tendency to see the good in yourself.”

  “I can see the good in myself,” I protested.

  “Can you?” He asked skeptically. “If I were you, I'd already be in that bed, enjoying the pleasure we could have together. But you hold back because you think it would be wrong. We're fairies; we don't have the same views on commitment and love that humans do. We know that there are all types of love to be found, and we would never deny ourselves any of them.”

  “Fairies are loyal when they take vows,” I said. “And I've made vows. Besides, whether it's right or wrong doesn't matter to me as much as the possibility of one of my men being hurt by my actions.”

  “They know the Call of Danu personally,” he reasoned. “They will understand.”

  “Maybe I simply don't go jumping into bed with men I've just met.”

  “How long was it before you fucked Tiernan?”

  “Don't use that word with Tiernan's name ever again,” I snarled, suddenly very angry.

  “My apologies.” Daxon held up his hands, but he did so with a wry grin. “How long was it before you made love to Count Tiernan?”

  “None of your goddess-damned business,” I said slowly and frigidly.

  “Oh, I've stepped into something, haven't I?” He mused then sipped his wine. “Your relationship with your husbands is complicated?”

  I laughed grimly in response.

  “Perhaps I shouldn't involve myself in this,” Dax mused as he placed his glass down carefully.

  “Perhaps you shouldn't,” I agreed and started to stand.

  “Sit down, Seren!”

  He startled me enough that I did as he said. Then Daxon yanked my chair out from the table, angled it so that we were facing each other. He leaned forward to grip my armrests.

  “I don't give a damn what this does to either of our lives,” he growled. “I don't care if your husbands are hurt, or if my men think I've gone soft. The more time I spend with you, the more certain I am that this is going to be brutal.”

  I glared at him, then opened my mouth to say something nasty.

  “I am not finished!” Daxon transferred one hand to my jaw and held me tightly. “We may destroy each other and even those around us, but only so that we can rebuild together. Fuck the past; this is our future.”

  Daxon kissed me, his hands going to my waist to pull me onto his lap. His mouth was demanding and rough, but it went tender as soon I responded. He tasted like whiskey, and the burn thrilled me; it tightened my arms around his wide shoulders so I could press my chest to his. Daxon moaned and held me tighter, one hand stroking my cheek as he licked and bit at my lips. Finally, after the fire had built to an undeniable point, I eased out of the kiss.

  We were panting hard, staring at each other in shock and desire. My dress was around my hips, and I was kneeling in Daxon's lap. It was an awkward position that I hadn't even noticed until that moment. But I
didn't move. I slid my hands over Daxon's face, down the column of his throat, and to the buttons of his shirt. I undid two of them as I held his gaze. His breathing quickened as I laid my palm on his chest. Magic shivered beneath my hand; his tattoos acknowledging my presence. But that wasn't the reaction I was after.

  “When you can respond to me with this organ,” I whispered as my hand rubbed over his heart, and then my other hand slid over his erection, “and not just this one, then we can talk about the future. Until you do, I won't risk the love I already have for you. You're a bad bet, Tromlaighe.”

  I slid off his lap, back into my chair, and picked up my glass of wine. As Daxon gaped at me—hair mussed, shirt open, and cock straining against his pants—I calmly took a sip.