by Eve Langlais
The cowering man she’d first come across in the dungeon, a man beaten physically and battered even more mentally, had recovered his mojo. Charging at their enemies with a trumpeting dare—hinting at darkness.
“Show them no mercy, muffin!” she yelled.
Aren’t you going to help? was his query.
“You got this, stud. I have faith in you.” And just in case he needed incentive… “I’m pretty sure that big red dragon is Jeremy. He tried to kiss me once.”
The truth, in this case, didn’t matter, just the result as Samael let out a huge blart of sound. He threw himself into the air, his body somehow twisting to avoid the stream of liquid fire aimed his way.
Most Reds tended to be rather bland with their powers. Fire for the most part. Boring!
But put several of them together, and things could get hot.
Samael didn’t cower in the face of their attack, and seating herself on his jacket, which he had so kindly left behind as a blanket, Deka watched.
“Oooh, nice move.”
Thanks.
Called out encouragement, too. “Rip open his underbelly.” Messy but effective.
Anything else, princess?
“You’re doing fine on your own.”
Gee, thanks. No mistaking the dry retort.
She smiled. Who knew having a real dragon boyfriend would be so fun?
Who says I’m your boyfriend?
You did, remember?
He ducked under a stream of fire and rose up to club the other dragon in the face and then grab hold of the enemy’s wing to tear it.
The ground didn’t shudder despite the massive beast that hit it. Big didn’t always mean heavy.
Boyfriend sounds so juvenile, he finally said, casting her a quick glance.
“I’m sorry, is the correct term fiancé?” He’d yet to ask her, but who needed to say words when it was unspoken?
You assume a lot, princess. What if I’m already promised? He grappled midair with a pair of wyverns who’d darted in to grab at his arms. A dragon rose from below.
It probably wasn’t the time to distract him.
“Promised to whom?” she snorted. “We’ve been exclusive for more than two weeks. You’ve been missing for months.”
Well, there were those other girls.
Her gaze narrowed—and not because the combined attack of the wyverns and remaining dragon managed to drag him to the ground. “What girls?”
But he didn’t reply. He pretended to be fighting for his life, tearing, rending with his claws. Ducking blows. Grunting at others.
He shimmered for a moment and then disappeared from sight.
“You can’t hide forever,” she shouted. “You will tell me.” So she could hunt those women down and make sure they understood he belonged to her.
Kind of busy. Busy dancing among those that dared to stand against them, an invisible shape that slashed and killed until only bodies remained, wyverns and dragons who resumed their human guise upon death. Until there was only a Red left. Samael appeared suddenly, his golden claws tipped in black, gripping it around the throat.
The clarion of his question, Where is your mistress? Replied with a hiss.
He squeezed, and the other dragon thrashed, trying to grab the claws that held him, but Samael had longer arms than a normal dragon, stranger wings, too. And his horns…she’d have to tell him at one point about those.
The Crimson traitor died, its mouth opening on one last exhalation. One last jet stream of fire, which, of course, ignited the fucking Range Rover.
“Seriously?” Deka exclaimed, jumping to her feet. She’d been looking forward to air-conditioned comfort and seeing who’d hit the top one hundred while she was gone.
Moments later, silence reigned until a big-assed Golden dragon landed in front of her.
She jabbed him in the plated armor of his chest. “So, about those women…”
He shifted back, compacting all that lovely airy strength into one tight and sexy body.
“What about them? You weren’t the first chick in that cage. Suzie brought in plenty. Not all of them dragons either. The suzerain enjoyed fresh meat. Apparently, she’d seduce them earthside then bring them through the portal. They never lasted long.”
“Did you fuck them?” Deka might have kind of grabbed him around the throat and squeezed. Might as well try to get water from a rock. He kept talking, despite the fact that she dangled from his neck.
“I’m not a whore. I do have some standards. Sniveling females tend to not make the cut.”
“I don’t snivel.”
“No, you don’t. You are rather magnificent in action.”
“Thank you.”
“But I’m better when it comes to action,” he boasted.
“Are not.”
“I’d argue, but it’s pointless when you obviously know the truth. Why else would you resort to the meek flinging of words?”
“I’ll show you meek,” she growled, and she meant to show him how tough she really was, but then he swung her into his arms, princess style.
Yeah, she kind of melted at that.
“Nothing wrong with being delicate. You now have a big man to protect you.”
She mentally hoarded it because it pleased her greatly. However, she had to reply. “What a ridiculously sexist thing to say.”
“I know.”
“I guess we’re going to have to walk since someone”—she didn’t attempt to hide the accusing glare—“didn’t protect our ride.”
“Maybe if someone had gotten off her lazy princess butt instead of cowering…”
“I was not cowering. I was applauding your valiant skills.”
“Still looked like cowering.”
“Says the man who let me chase after Suzie alone.”
“Men know better than to get involved in a girl fight.”
“What if she’d turned into a boy?”
His eyes lit with triumph. “Are you saying boys are better than girls?”
“Oh, that was twisty, muffin. Well done. But you still haven’t answered the question of how we’re going to get to the closest Silver Sept safe house.”
“We’ll fly.”
“In broad daylight?” she screeched.
“The world knows we exist now.”
“That doesn’t mean you should put yourself out in the open for everyone to see. And I might note the whole purpose of a safe house is to ensure you can hide without anyone knowing. Hardly hiding if we both fly to it and land with the whole world watching.”
“First off, you’re not flying. I’ll be carrying you. It’s the only way to make you invisible.”
“Invisible?” Her eyes widened. “Oooh.” She clapped her hands. “Can we take a picture?” She pulled out the phone she’d used to Snapchat the fight.
“You do realize invisible means no one will see us?”
Her cheeks might have heated. “Shut up.”
He chuckled, the deep, masculine sound transitioning to a shivery fluting as he shifted to his dragon form. He held her cradled against his impressive chest and used his back legs to spring them into the air, and in a few pushes of his wings, they were airborne. And invisible, which was kind of cool, given she could feel her hands groping her boobs but couldn’t see them.
“This is epic!” she declared.
Glad you like it.
“Do you know what would be cool? We should role-play. I’ll be the innocent woman sleeping in a haunted house, and you’ll be the naughty ghost who seduces me.”
Does your mind ever stop?
“Nope.” And she proceeded to regale him with other things an invisible man could do, from dropping condom-filled balloons on people in wide-open spaces, to sneaking food off people’s plates, and of course, making love in the middle of a crowded room.
After a while, she did notice something. “Where are you going?” Because he wasn’t following her directions to the safe house she’d mentioned. The long stint over the ocea
n made that very clear.
I know a place.
“If you know it, then chances are it’s compromised because of the time Suzie spent impersonating Anastasia.”
This place is a secret. You’ll like it.
He wanted to show her a secret place? Another panty-wetting moment—if she wore panties. Which she didn’t. Ha.
Of course, his idea of secret and hers differed apparently.
Their arrival proved less than exciting.
He landed after hours of flight, a portion of which she spent napping in his arms, in a field of golden wheat.
“You do realize if I were gluten allergic, you’d have killed me,” she declared as she followed his naked butt through the waving fronds.
“I’ve seen the way you devour pasta.”
“I’m a growing girl. I need my carbs.
He snorted. They left the field for a scraggy front yard, the grass losing the fight against the weeds. A sad-looking tree with half the branches bare and dead didn’t encourage her to try the tire swing hanging out of it.
“Why are we stopping here?” she asked as she stood in front of the clapboard farmhouse, its paint—more gray now than white—peeling, the windows’ wooden sashes split and, she’d wager, drafty.
“This is the place.”
“This is your secret?” She could see why he didn’t tell anyone. It underwhelmed.
“This, princess, is more than a secret.” He turned around to face her, pride on his face. “This is my home.”
She might have pulled something laughing.
Chapter Eighteen
“Don’t sulk.”
“I am not sulking,” he announced, the words emerging petulant on account that his lower lip was strongly affected by gravity at the moment.
“I shouldn’t have laughed so hard.”
“You almost peed yourself.”
“But I didn’t.”
He glared.
“Your home is, um…lovely, in a falling down, shack-in-the-middle-of-nowhere kind of way.”
“Mock it all you want. It’s mine.”
“Mine’s bigger. And newer.”
“Bet it doesn’t sit on three thousand acres of land.” He’d managed to achieve privacy in a world where oftentimes there was too little.
She peeked around, hands planted on her hips, hips he’d held on to as he plunged his cock into her body.
Schwing. His dick didn’t care if she mocked his farmhouse. It thought he should skip the bullshit and get to the fucking part.
She threw up her hands. “I’m sorry, muffin. I don’t care if it sits on a jillion acres. It’s flat farmland.” She gestured with a hand. “There’s not even a herd of bulls for me to play with.”
“We can get horses.” He gestured to the dilapidated barn.
“I’m pretty sure it would be considered animal cruelty to put them in there.”
“There’re rabbits in the fields.”
“This”—she gestured to her frame—“needs more than a rabbit. Give me red meat.”
“I’ve got red meat for you.” The hip thrust might have made another woman blush. She, on the other hand, licked her lips.
“I am a tad puckish.” She took a step toward him.
He held up a hand to halt her. “Not out here. Someone could see us.”
“Who?” Again, she gestured. “There’s nothing for miles around.”
“What if I said there was a bed inside?” He grabbed her by the hand and drew her to the house. She went reluctantly, and he grinned.
Such a spoiled princess. She saw only the worn-down aspects of this place. She didn’t see all the other things that made it wonderful.
The door yielded at his touch. Why bother locking it? What could anyone steal?
Inside, worn linoleum greeted them, a faded brick pattern that never, ever, even when new, looked like actual tile. A glance to the left into the living room showed a room with ratty furniture, the stuffing oozing out of holes. The hardwood floors in that space had lost their veneer years ago and turned a dirty grayish tan.
The wallpaper, a running theme throughout the home, boasted a wildflower pattern faded with time, the edges of it peeled.
“Are you sure this place is safe?” she said, peering about with doubt.
“Structurally sound, I promise.” He wrapped his arm around her waist and drew her close to him so they both stood in the middle of a braided rug that could have choked someone if they took the time to beat the dust out of it.
“What do you think?”
“I think you need an interior designer.”
“Are you disparaging my hoard?”
“You consider this your hoard?” Her arched brows went well with her high-pitched reply. “You should think of taking lessons on what constitutes a hoard.”
“Perhaps you can educate me in my bedroom.”
“Is it on the second floor? Because I’ve got to say, I’d be worried all that bouncing around might send the house crashing down around us.”
“Actually, my bedroom is below.” He uttered a short note, a tiny whistle that caused the house around them to shiver then disappear as the carpet they stood on dropped down a hole, which immediately sealed behind with a new seamless section of floor and rug.
The entranceway to the true part of his home.
Deka squealed, not in fear, not his Silver princess.
She squealed, “I should have known you were screwing with me. This is amazing!” Her excitement proved contagious.
Down they plummeted, air rushing against their faces, her hair fluttering in a spiked ‘do.
One story. Two. Three. His true home lay far underground, and no, he’d not dug it out himself. He’d found this cavern by accident when looking to buy a place that would offer privacy. He’d toured the less-than-impressive home, hemming over the choice, when he found the well in the cellar. He’d dropped a rock down it, only to never hear it hit. Being young and adventurous, he’d jumped down with only a flashlight.
He’d found something amazing.
The carpet halted on a stone dais, intricately carved and inlaid with gold. His true front hall, so to speak.
“Welcome to Maison D’Ore.”
For a moment, she didn’t say a word, just glanced around, taking it all in. “How did you get your hands on paradise?” The awe in her voice made him swell with pride.
“I was an archeologist. Remember?”
“For ancient places like Egypt and stuff. This is in the middle of potato country.”
“The best things are sometimes hidden in plain sight.” No need to admit he’d found it by a fluke. He didn’t believe in coincidences. Fate, on the other hand, according to all his research, might be fickle, but she did have a purpose when she guided.
“How did you get a castle down here?” She stared at the edifice rising from the bottom of the cavern, the submerged lights in the pond to the left of it refracting on the stone.
“I’d like to take credit, but I found most of this as you see it.”
“Who built it?”
He shrugged. “No idea. It might have been a dragon ancestor.” And yet, the language he’d found, even some of the murals, indicated another race. Something no longer seen in this world.
“Are the lights magic or natural?”
“More like man-made. Anything modern or electrical was a touch I added.”
“All the perks of home,” she murmured. “What about cable?”
“Of course. We have high-speed internet, too, courtesy of a satellite hook up. All the amenities you’d expect.”
“But how? Did Parker help you with this?”
He snorted. “Parker was an abusive a-hole who thought he was in charge. I allowed him to think it because, as long as he thought I was a good little soldier, he tended to not pay much mind when I disappeared on digs. Sometimes for weeks without contact.”
“And while you were faking him out, you were creating this.” She whirled to take in more details
before turning and slugging him in the gut.
He lost his breath and felt he should add she did not hit like a girl.
It was so fucking hot. He tossed her over his shoulder as he strode toward his domain.
“Aren’t you going to ask me why I’m pissed?” she railed at his back.
“That would imply that I’m interested in hearing your reasoning, which is probably something inane, such as you’re PMSing.”
“I am not PMSing.”
“Then I’ll wager you’re pissed because you were gullible enough to think I would actually live in that run-down dump upstairs.”
“It’s not nice to trick people.”
“But it is fun,” he said with a chuckle.
She snorted then laughed. A giggle cut short as he entered the castle and it illuminated, the subtle lighting he’d put in reacting to his presence.
“How does it run? Do you have a power plant down here or something?”
“Or something,” he said with a grin. “Those farm fields you see outside? Not all that wheat is real. Some of it is a fiber optic type of strand that absorbs solar energy and then runs it down to a rather large holding unit.”
“I didn’t think they’d created batteries big enough to hold much.”
“Oh, they exist, but the power companies don’t want you to stop relying on them. It’s all about the money, princess.”
“So your farm field is actually some giant electricity field?”
“It is. And this is my stronghold. My hoard. It can withstand any nuclear attack. Even an asteroid. If the world ends, we can watch and eat popcorn.”
“With butter, I hope, because only savages eat it plain.” The words didn’t come from Deka, which was why he jumped.
How embarrassing to be startled. Then again, he never expected Babette to jump out of a doorway, can of soda in hand.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” he barked.
“Waiting for you.” Babette shook her head. “Took you long enough. Did you take the scenic route over the ocean?”
“How did you know where here was? Tell me.” He bristled as he advanced on Babette while Deka struggled on his shoulder.
“Don’t you dare kill my favorite cousin,” she squeaked.
“Maybe your favorite cousin shouldn’t show up in a man’s castle uninvited,” he growled. But he set Deka down and contented himself with glaring over his woman.