by Cecilia Lane
“Ay. Said she’s been living in DC for the last year with no memory of her life or how she got there.”
“Yeah, we’ve heard about that poison. Knocks out your powyr and leaves you weak as a kitten. Wears off after a bit, though. Couple months at most. Definitely doesn’t last a year.”
“I already bloody knew that,” Eoghan snapped.
The doctor raised his eyes from the chart for the first time since picking it up. “If I didn’t take her sample myself, I’d say there was a mistake.”
“What does that mean?”
“This woman is, plainly speaking, fucked up. There are chemicals in her system that should have her completely knackered.”
“So, her story is true? She can’t remember a thing?” It was one more mark against Mariko. She harmed an innocent woman. It was one thing he couldn’t stand to see happen.
“Like I said, completely blitzed. I’m surprised she was even conscious before the gun shot with this much dope in her. If she says she can’t remember, I don’t doubt it.”
“Dope. So, she’s a junky?”
The doctor shook his head. “I thought as much but the screen came back with nothing illegal. Instead, she has traces of antipsychotics, antidepressants, anti-anxiety, pretty much any sort of anti- drug you can think of. It’s all working to keep her body thinking there’s some reason to suppress her powyr.”
“What does she need tae fix her head?”
“Time and fluids. She needs to detox. It’s not going to be pretty and it’s going to happen fast. You think she’s whacked out now, just wait until she misses her next dose and starts having hallucinations.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, texting Gio a quick message. Done, he dismissed the doctor from his mind. Alarms sounded as he pulled the needle out of Annika’s arm.
“Hey, you can’t do that!” The doctor tried to step between him and Annika.
The man had been bold before but wilted when Eoghan drew himself up to his full height. He pulled on the Wyrd and let it change the shape of his face and the length of his teeth.
No one would stand between him and his mate again.
The doctor sucked in a breath and stumbled to exit the room. Eoghan reached out and grabbed the doctor’s shoulder, pulling him back. He plucked the chart out of the man’s hands. “Tell no one you saw her,” he ordered darkly.
He needed only a moment more to lift Annika into his arms and slip out the back door where Gio waited with his SUV.
His home would be the best spot for her and that was exactly where he ordered Gio to drive. The condos on Silo Point were rigged with the latest security money could buy and he’d installed a few extra upgrades of his own. Mariko would have a hell of a time trying to get from the bottom floor to the penthouse without being seen.
He didn’t even allow Gio to accompany them upstairs. He couldn’t stand the thought of any other man entering his lair with his mate. He needed the quiet to settle and to plan.
He poured a glass of Scotch whisky and dragged a plush seat into the bedroom where he could watch Annika sleep and read through the doctor’s chart. It was exactly what he’d told Eoghan in a whole lot of medical gibberish.
Which begged the question: who drugged Annika in the first place? There was an original dose when she disappeared. Someone gave it to her and that someone would need to suffer for it.
He already had his men looking into her time in DC. He needed someone to look into her time before Baltimore and he knew exactly who to call.
The line picked up after a handful of rings, the man answering sounding groggy. “Donovan.”
“It’s Eoghan.”
Donovan paused and Eoghan could almost see him passing a hand over his face to clear away the last of his sleep. “Mr. Gilchrist. This is a surprise. How may I assist you?”
Department of Powyrworld Affairs housed records of every single person with a drop of powyrful blood. They sequenced, identified, poked, and prodded until they knew what to call a person.
As if a man wasn’t a man, no matter what beast he housed inside him.
Donovan was a useful tool and recently acquired. He liked to play card games a little too much. He’d run into a little bit of money trouble in the past and needed to work off his debt to the Gilchrist family.
“I have a name for ya to run. Medical records, too, if ya need them. Though our doc says she’s got junky blood and he can’t get a good read on her. Annika Leeds. Dragon.”
“Dragon? I don’t have any access to those—”
Eoghan swallowed down the rest of his whisky and left the bedroom only long enough to pour another. “No objections, Donovan. I don’t think yer wife will be pleased to know who truly owns that lovely house ya just bought. Or should the bank accounts get cleared out first? Yer choice where repayment begins.”
There was a rustle, blankets thrown back, the sound of feet quickly retreating down a hall, a door closing. Eoghan waited and heard the whispered breath he knew was coming. “No, no need for that. I’ll do what you need. What was the name again?”
“Annika Leeds. Dragon. She said she was from Alaska.”
“Yes, Mr. Gilchrist. I’ll get on it immediately,” Donovan sounded defeated as he ended the call.
Eoghan made a mental note to have one of his men check in on the little tool. Even just passing him by on his lunch break should spook the man enough into compliance. He cared far too much about losing his place at the card tables to risk offending the only person left in the city who’d loan him money.
The whisky bit his tongue and warmed his throat on the way down. He stared between the phone he tossed on the nightstand and the woman in his bed. How would she feel to find him watching her while she slept? From her perspective, they met only that night and then he dragged her to her near death.
He bared his teeth at his phone. He shouldn’t have called Donovan. No, he shouldn’t have needed to call his pet agent. But there was nothing normal about the situation. Annika had been attacked. He needed to know all there was to know about her before he could make things right.
If he repeated it enough, perhaps he would believe the justification.
Annika stirred in bed. His bed. Theirs. Fooking hell, he didn’t know what to call it.
“Jump off the cliff. It’s easy. Don’t be scared, stupid.”
He leaned forward and brushed her hair away from her face. That small touch was enough to zing straight through him and remind him of better days when he’d crawl into bed with her. “Hush now, no cliffs here.”
Her eyes fluttered open. The clear brown had clouded with the detox fever that already coursed through her. Hard and fast, the doctor warned. “Did you ever cliff jump? Used to do it with my brothers.”
His hand froze on her forehead. Sisters, like him. That’s what she’d said when they first met. She grew up with sisters in Alaska. They’d lost touch after their parents died. She ran away from the pain of it, just like he’d left the guilt of Maura behind in Edinburgh.
“I thought ya grew up in Alaska.”
“Never been. We’ll go one day.” Her lips rose in a small smile and her eyes closed again.
“Ann? Tell me more about yer brothers. What about yer sisters?” He shook her shoulder and her brow crinkled with a frown. But her eyes didn’t open again, no matter how hard he shook her.
She’d slipped back under and left him with nothing but questions and impatience.
The scent of perspiration, nerves, and arousal filled her nose. Something else, too, thick and delicious like a burning fire. Eoghan had gone quiet. She nearly dropped her glass when she turned to see what had caused his silence.
Eoghan eyed her curiously, like she was a tasty snack he was sure he wanted to devour. But it was his eyes that startled her the most. They’ glowed with an inner powyr. She’d suspected it was there from nearly the moment their eyes met. But now it shone brightly inside him, burning with intensity.
He rolled smoothly to his
feet and closed the space between them. She didn’t move. A dragon in Heat wasn’t a beast to tease with fleeing prey.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Yes, her body responded. He was a powyrful man. He would make an ideal mate.
Her breath caught in her throat when he caged her between his arms and pressed his nose to the column of her neck. His next exhale ruffled her hair and tickled her ear, sending a shiver down her spine.
“Why can I smell ya from across the room?” The burr of his voice deepened and sent another shiver through her.
Her own connection to the Wyrd welled up inside her without her conscious reach. His Heat called to her and her body responded on its own accord. She struggled to clear through the haze that filled her mind and urged her on.
His body slid against hers as he knelt down. He bunched her tank top up and pressed his nose against her hip and mouthed across her skin, just above the waist of her jeans. She bit her lip and tried to hold back the whimper building in her throat.
“You smell like ya want tae fook me. Is that true, Ann? Do ya want me?” He cocked his head and she caught the teasing glint of his eyes before he shut them and nuzzled a cheek against her other hip.
Fucking hell, as he said. She did. But not in the middle of a Heat. Why had he brought her back to his condo? She didn’t think he even knew fully what was happening to him.
Cold thoughts tempered her rising lust. She needed to find out what he planned with the false Dragon Court. Some men liked to talk afterwards. It was a flimsy excuse and when his fingers popped the button of her jeans, she found she didn’t care.
She wanted Eoghan’s hands on her body, she wanted to feel him filling her, she wanted his lips on her skin. She craved him. Every thought, every action. She wanted him.
The roof above her was unfamiliar and Annika panicked. She clutched at her chest, unable to find her breath. Her forehead was hot and damp and heavy. Her eyes roved around the room. She tried to find anything she could remember, any reason for her to be there. No memory came to her.
“Shh, shh, there now,” a deep voice reached her ears.
Eoghan.
Eoghan knelt beside her and replaced the cold cloth on her forehead.
The brief touch of his fingertips brushing against her skin was enough to calm her. The tightness in her chest loosened and when she inhaled a normal breath, she could smell him. The flavors of him rolled over her senses. Deep and smoky with a hint of honey and all of it delicious.
She reached for him. The bit of dream or memory or fantasy, she didn’t know which, still felt too real. She wanted to slip back into it and taste him completely.
“Eoghan,” she groaned and wound her arms around his neck.
Her lips found his, connected. They were softer than they looked, especially after he parted them. He made a noise not too different from her own and slipped his tongue into her mouth.
He plundered her, then. Taking what he’d taken in her fever dream. His tongue swept over hers and dominated the caress. Heat swirled in her stomach and her clit throbbed with need for him. It crashed over her and pulled her into a raging torrent.
Mate.
Annika growled into his mouth and he responded with a possessive, masculine snarl of his own. She wanted him, needed him, ached for him. They’d been kept apart and she wanted to feel him buried inside her again.
“No.” Eoghan broke their kiss and pressed his forehead against hers. The blue of his eyes was dark with the need he denied. “Fooking hell, Ann. Not now. Not like this.”
“Yes,” she groaned and reached for him again. But he was gone and she was lost in the cold space left behind.
Her head buzzed when she cracked her eyes open again. Everything seemed too bright and too loud. Every inch of her skin stung. Sweat eked out of her pores and evaporated immediately from the heat boiling her alive from the inside out.
“Ann, concentrate. What brought ya tae Baltimore?” Eoghan voice droned in her ears. The sound of it stretched and echoed through her head, like a giant gong had been rung.
“Looking for you. Looking for a wytch. Needed to know if I was a shifter.”
Eoghan growled. “Not now. Back then. When we first met. Why did ya come here?”
She loved the sound of his voice. Rough and warm, like the whisky he preferred to drink. She thought she melted the first time he approached her, ordering her to bring a bottle of the top shelf stuff to the private floor.
“Ya told me to fook off, I couldn’t afford tae drink that. Made ya count out the bills in my wallet when ya brought the bottle and glasses upstairs.” She could hear the smile in his voice.
Shit. Had she said that out loud? What was wrong with her?
“Yer gettin’ all that shite out of yer system. Just a few more days.”
Light flashed between the trees but none of them stopped. They threw one foot in front of the other and flew through the forest. A breeze fitfully rustled the leaves and cooled the sweat on their skin.
Annika paused and listened to the sounds of the forest. She tried to hear the racing footfalls of her brothers. It was their turn to hunt her and she was determined to make it to the cliffs before they caught her.
She took off and the light flashed between tree trunks again. A crashing sound on her left made her dart to the right, jumping over a fallen trunk. She landed awkwardly but grit her teeth. They would catch her if she let herself feel the pain in her ankle.
A bird called and was answered by another. Closer. They weren’t the calls of the birds around their home. The sounds were her brothers signaling to each other. She’d been spotted.
She glanced backward and caught the movement of one brother ducking behind a bush. She laughed and pressed on. The tree line was so close. She could hear the waves crashing into the rocks at the foot of the cliffs.
Almost.
Someone smacked into her from the side. They tumbled end over end but he couldn’t keep hold of her. She leapt up, heart racing.
Future soldiers of the Dragon Court didn’t give up after one attack. She wanted to be prepared when childhood games turned into real training. But first, she would beat her brothers to the cliff and teach them for laughing at her dreams.
So close. Just a few hundred feet more.
Laughter tearing from her lungs, Annika launched herself over the cliff and dove into the fresh water below.
Crying split her ears and made them want to bleed. She pressed her hands to her head to keep the sound out but it didn’t do a thing to mute the noise.
“Make it stop,” she whined and curled in on herself. She twisted and the pillow felt wet under her cheek. Her tears?
“Ya sicked the bed again,” Eoghan grumbled.
Strong arms lifted her out of bed and carried her into the bathroom. The light buzzed in her ears and made her wince. “Turn it off, turn it off,” she pleaded.
The lights immediately turned off and a tiny fraction of peace returned to her clouded mind.
Cold. Cold against her back, her arms, and her legs. She reached for anything and found the edge of the tub.
“Don’t try tae get out this time. I’ll be back as soon as I change the sheets.”
As if she could move.
Back in bed. She didn’t know if it was hours or days later. The light peeking through the closed curtains didn’t give her any clues. She sipped at some warm broth and nearly gagged. It made her stomach turn.
“I told Kenna not tae try. She can’t cook worth a damn,” Eoghan chuckled. He pulled the spoon away and set the bowl on the nightstand. “How many brothers ya got, Ann? They ever try tae nursemaid ya?”
“Nurse, no. They made me fight to play with them. Three, in total. We were a quad clutch.”
“What about yer parents? Do ya remember anything about them?”
She swallowed down the water her handed her. Her eyes were getting heavy again. All she seemed to do was sleep or sick up on herself. He was so insistent about never leaving her side. All those
questions, too.
“Just trying tae find yer people,” he said softly.
She’d spoken aloud again, hadn’t she?
“Ya have no filter right now, is all. Just an open book, if ya remember what’s on the pages.”
6
She could breathe. She could see. She could think without it splitting her head wide open.
Her stomach grumbled.
And she was hungry.
Annika rolled over and spied Eoghan sprawled in a chair that didn’t fit the rest of the room. She tossed the blankets off her body and was surprised to find herself in a tank top and cotton pants, neither of which she wore when she took the train to Baltimore.
She groaned and didn’t know if it was because she’d undoubtedly screwed herself out of her grant money from the shelter or because she was wearing clothes that belonged to someone Eoghan knew intimately.
She tried to hide her pang of jealousy as that of hunger and tried to sort her days into a timeline.
Bits and pieces of her memory came back to her, most of it hazy. After being dragged from the warehouse, Eoghan threw her in front of another gang. It felt like a dream and she didn’t believe she’d actually been shot until she lifted the edge of her tank top and spotted the ugly, puckered line of an almost-healed wound.
Annika glared at Eoghan’s sleeping form and another scrap of memory floated to the surface.
Yer powyrful.
He confirmed what her counselor denied all along. She wasn’t crazy. She’d just been drugged up and had her connection to her other side severed. He cared for her through the entire ordeal. And while she still couldn’t remember much or figure out how to change her shape, she felt better than she had in a year.
He likely needed the sleep after tending to her needs. And, she admitted, it would be a good opportunity to glean some information about the man.
She swung her legs out of bed and took her first careful step. Her legs shook and she used the wall to steady herself as she stepped out of the bedroom and down the hall.