Key ruthlessly stayed invisible and in control as he took in the scene in the underground garage. He saw Roxy framed in the car lights on the oil-stained cement, clad in only her bra and panties, a dozen cuts on her stomach, thighs, and arms. Her hands and feet were cuffed to eye hooks in the ground. A truck idled to the right of her, and her bodyguard lay dead to the left.
Liam knelt over her, Roxy’s blood on his hands and chest.
Key’s rage exploded; he materialized and launched himself. He hit Liam, throwing them both several feet beyond Roxy’s head. He whipped out his knife and, with his brother flat on his back beneath him, aimed for the heart. He would shred it into a pulp this time.
Liam grabbed his wrist, stopping his strike. “Still a weak runt.”
Surprised, Key looked at his brother’s face and saw his blue eyes bright with the high of witch blood. He stunk of copper, but he was stronger than Key had anticipated. Icy rage fueled his muscles. He’d been weak and helpless once, but no more. “You’re going shade.” The words were nearly drowned out by the gunning of an engine.
A second later, the front grille of the SUV hit Key and knocked him off Liam. Slamming onto the ground, he ignored the hot flash of pain in his shoulder and rolled up to his feet. The SUV had backed up and Liam was yanking open the door to escape.
Oh hell, no! Key flipped his knife to the blade end and threw with deadly aim to the center of his brother’s back.
Liam spun and caught the handle of the knife. Standing on the running board of the SUV, he looked at Key. “Dragon’s not awake, is he? He’s never going to wake now.” He turned and threw the knife.
Not at Key.
But at Roxy. A perfect curving arc that would bury the deadly tip in her heart.
A ferocious energy took hold of Key’s muscles and he sprang. He threw every bit of strength and will into his body, determined to fly if he had to. Stretching, he sailed parallel to the ground, his arm reached, his fingers extended, his gaze locked on the silver blade as it descended.
Liam’s taunt rang in his head—what the hell was he talking about, waking the dragon? Didn’t matter, Key couldn’t let her die!
The blade was inches from her chest. One inch from his fingers. He heard his brother laughing as the SUV peeled out. His brain screamed, Reach! One more inch!
Pain tore through the end of his middle finger. Then there was a thunk as the knife bounced off something and changed direction. Key didn’t have time to figure it out; he was going to land right on Roxy. Using every muscle he possessed, he flipped himself to the right and hit the ground on his bad shoulder, and stars burst behind his eyes. He grunted, rolling up to his hands and knees.
He heard a crash as the SUV drove through the gate and out onto the road.
He’d missed his chance to kill Liam. He’d screwed up. How the hell had his brother caught that knife? The rogue was almost as fast and strong as Axel. Hunters who found and bonded with their soul mirrors acquired more strength and speed.
With the headlights of the SUV gone, the garage was dark, gloomy, only a sliver of light slipping in from the entrance. His eyes adjusted quickly, and he reached for his knife lying between him and Roxy. That’s when he saw it.
The fingernail of his middle finger was an inch and a half long. Curved. His cuticle was crusted in blood. “What the fuck?” Then it hit him, that’s how he stopped the knife from killing Roxy.
He’d grown a fingernail. Like a dragon claw.
Freaking weird.
He scooped up his knife, sliced off the nail, and holstered his blade.
“Dyfyr?” Roxy said in a whisper.
The dragon tat on his chest moved, as if stretching to reach her.
“Kieran?” Her voice was raspy and trembled.
He sucked in a breath and smelled the faint power in her blood. His veins pulsed in reaction. Then he looked down. Her face was damp with sweat and tears, her eyes haunted by pain and fear, her lips cracked and bloody. He looked down her body; saw the cuts on the ripe swells over her breasts, her belly, and her thighs. His skin pulled tight, air locked in his chest, the bloodlust buzzed in his ears. If Roxy wasn’t latent, the bloodlust would be like live wires shoved through his veins and the juice turned up to torture. “It’s me,” he said softly.
Yanking his phone from his pocket, he texted 9-1-1, Bedazzled underground garage to Phoenix. He should have done it once he heard them in the garage. But the need to get to Roxy had pushed out every other thought. Sliding the phone into his pocket, he crouched next to her.
“How did you know?” she asked in a hoarse voice.
“Tyler saw them take you.” Her wrists were cuffed over her head, and the chain between the bracelets threaded through the eye hook of a bolt drilled into the cement. He leaned over, grabbed both sides of the chain, and yanked. The chain held for a few seconds, but Key put his strength into it despite the scream in his shoulder and snapped it.
“And you came.”
He took hold of her wrists and lowered them to her sides. “I never should have left you alone.” Then he moved to her feet and worked on breaking the chain between those cuffs.
Her eyes filled with more tears. “I wanted you to go. I don’t want this … I don’t want …” Tremors wracked her body.
Her broken words scraped his guts. How the hell could she ever trust him after he’d let this happen to her? Key heard the Mustang coming, the growl of the engine matching his own helpless fury. He hadn’t been quick enough! He’d walked out of that room and left her vulnerable. He moved back to her side. He would not allow her to lie there bleeding on the dirty floor.
The sharp smell of her pain burned his nose and made the tattoo hiss. The dragon wanted her. Key knew it and yanked his shirt off. Then he slipped his arms beneath her body, lifted her up, and cradled her against his chest.
Her blood touched his skin. Touched the tattoo.
Her blood touched the dragon.
The beast shuddered as if trying to waken from a long nap. Bloodlust thickened in his veins, while protectiveness tightened his arms around her. A throb in his groin swelled his cock. He could feel the agony rolling off her.
The Mustang roared into the garage.
Roxy stiffened.
“Easy, green eyes. It’s a friend coming to get us out of here.” He looked up as Phoenix spun the car so it skidded to a stop three feet from where Key stood.
Ailish jumped out, shoved the seat up, and held it for them. Key eased inside, holding Roxy as close to the dragon as he could. Ailish crawled into the back with them. Using her magic, she shut the door.
Phoenix peeled out.
Ailish said, “You have to be my eyes, Key. Show me where she’s hurt. The worst cuts first.”
He laid her across his thighs. “Roxy, this is Ailish. She’s a witch.” Taking Ailish’s hand, he laid it on the worst wound on her stomach.
Roxy sucked in air and stiffened, but didn’t say anything.
He pulled her face closer to his chest and felt the bloom of Ailish’s magic. A pure white light radiated from her hand, and the wound stopped bleeding. Then Key moved Ailish’s hand to a deep wound on Roxy’s thigh. He was careful not to touch her schema, not wanting to cause her any more discomfort. That wound closed.
“How’s the witch?” Axel’s voice boomed over the speakers.
Key directed Ailish’s hand to the next wound, while answering, “We have her; Ailish is healing her cuts. Liam and his mortal flunky, Mack, got away.” Just saying the words pissed him off. “Liam is different, faster. I threw my knife at his back when he was trying to get into the SUV to escape. He turned and caught it.”
Phoenix looked into the mirror over the rims of his shades. “You throw like a rocket.”
He moved Ailish’s hand to the last cut on Roxy’s breast over the cup of her bra. “The power in witch blood makes rogues stronger and faster, but this seems like more.” Key looked down at Roxy. Her closed eyes looked bruised, and he pushed back her sweaty tangl
ed hair, sickened by what she’d suffered. “I heard him tell Roxy he’d risen from the dead. Called himself blood-born.” He barely noticed Ailish putting her hand on his right shoulder and healing whatever he’d torn in there when the SUV hit him. He had no idea how she knew he’d been hurt.
“Liam wanted Roxy specifically and went to a lot of trouble to get her. Do you know why?” Axel asked.
“Said she could wake the dragon. She has the fertility mark.” He wasn’t sure what it meant.
Sutton broke in, “Her schema? Is that why she has the full mark, not the half marks we saw on the other fertility witches? And if it’s the dragon in you, how would Liam know this and not you?”
Frustration roiled in him. “When I find my brother, I’ll be sure to ask him right before I rip his heart out of his chest and burn it.”
Axel said, “Get the witch back here to Glassbreakers where we can set up better protection. We’ll go from there.”
He took Ailish’s hand to show her the handcuffs on Roxy’s wrists and ankles. Once she was free, he looked down at her pale, strained face. Her scattered freckles stood out like blood specks. His gut burned with the memory of her chained and cut. He realized that she was still wearing only the bra and panties, dried blood staining her skin. “She needs a chance to clean up and get some clothes.”
Her eyes widened. “I’m not dressed.”
Shock. She wasn’t quite tracking what was happening around her. He wrapped her in his arms. “It’s dark, no one can see you.” Not exactly true since he and Phoenix had enhanced hunter vision, but they didn’t make a habit of leering at women they rescued from rogues. “When we go into the hotel, I’ll hold you. I can make both of us appear invisible.”
Sutton broke in, “Linc has a house not far from where you are. It’s safer. Roxy can clean up, and we’ll conference there.” He gave the directions.
“Here,” Ailish said, handing over his shirt. “I stepped on it when I got out of the car and picked it up.”
He stared at it as Phoenix made a series of turns and took them on a long, private road with few homes. In the parking garage, when he’d seen and smelled Roxy’s suffering, he’d needed to take off his shirt so he could hold her close to the dragon. Was she waking the dragon in him? As screwed up as Key was, how stupid was it to wake an ancient beast forced into Key by fertility magic? Shit. “Thanks.”
Phoenix turned into a gated driveway, stopped, and rolled down the window. “Sutton, we’re at the house, what’s the code for the gates?”
“There’s a palm scanner. I’ve already inputted you, Key, and Ailish.”
“Got it,” Phoenix leaned out and pressed his palm against the mechanism, and the gates slid open with a soft whirring. They pulled up to the house. “Holy mansions,” Phoenix said. “Linc must be as rich as you, comic boy.”
Key ignored him as he helped Roxy put the shirt on. When the car stopped, Phoenix said, “Stay there until I come around.” He got out of the car, opened the passenger side, and helped Ailish out.
Then Phoenix leaned in and reached for Roxy.
Key caught his wrist before he touched her. Looking up into Phoenix’s dark shades hiding his eyes, he almost growled, “I’ve got her. Back off.”
The other hunter tilted his head down and looked over the rim of his glasses. His gaze slid to Key’s chest, then he held up both hands in a sign of surrender and stepped back.
“Wait, I can do it, just … dizzy,” Roxy said, her eyes closing.
“Just rest,” he told her, then slipped his arm beneath her legs and stepped out of the car. Phoenix shut the door, and they headed up to the massive front doors. The house was a two-story villa that had to be five thousand square feet.
Phoenix located the scanner and put his hand against it, and they heard a soft click. He opened the front door, and they walked into the cool interior.
Key headed for the stairs, moving through the dark gloom of the house with no problem. Ailish had done a good job, but they both had blood on them. He wanted to get Roxy cleaned up and into a bed where she could recover from shock and blood loss.
“Dude,” Phoenix said.
Key stopped halfway to the staircase. Turning back he saw Phoenix with his arm around Ailish. “You’d better look at your tat. Your dragon’s not a female.”
When Key had inked the dragon, Phoenix had started calling it “she,” and Key had gone along. He’d always known Dyfyr was male, but what had it really mattered? He shifted Roxy a bit and looked down. His mouth went dry and a buzzing filled his head at what he saw. The dragon had a lock of Roxy’s hair wrapped around his front claw and held it against his face. He claimed her. And where there used to be cluster of amethyst scales on his head, now two very male horns stood proudly.
“You touched her blood,” Phoenix said.
He felt it right through to his heart. Dyfyr was waking, and he’d claimed his soul mirror. He’d known on some level from the first strokes of his pencil on the wall when he’d drawn her. But now he’d touched her blood, and the dragon recognized her. That’s why he’d taken his shirt off in the garage, to let the dragon touch her.
It was like being hit with a ton of bricks and fractured into several pieces. A deep part of him craved his soul mirror. She would free him from the curse, and he would help her with her magic. But another part of him knew he wasn’t cut out for this. He destroyed people he loved. And it didn’t matter anyway.
She didn’t want her magic.
She didn’t want him.
Roxy wasn’t used to being weak and helpless. She’d built her life so carefully, each choice a step farther into the mortal world. She’d been so sure of her decision.
Now her world was shattered, and she was too damned weak to do anything but let Kieran carry her like a child as he walked through the huge house. Finally he stopped moving, and she heard a door close. She had to pull herself together. Opening her eyes, she said, “I can stand.”
He set her on her feet. She grabbed the doorframe to get the dizziness under control. Moving her head carefully, she realized she was holding on to the doorway between a large bedroom and an attached bath. “Where are we?”
“Another hunter’s house, Linc Dillinger. He uses palm-scanner security, which is good protection. Rogues like Liam don’t have lifelines, and that will set off alarms.” He walked past her into the bathroom, leaned into the shower, and turned it on.
“Okay.” She followed him with her gaze, trying to get her bearings.
He turned around, and she saw his naked chest. It’d been too dark in the garage and the car to really see, and she’d been slipping in and out of full consciousness. She was awake now, and her breath caught at the sheer beauty of the dragon inked there. Kieran’s shoulders and chest were a wide, muscular canvas, and the dragon sat slightly turned, his massive chest thrust out, snout angled down, and gleaming ruby eyes watching her. His scales were vibrant colors of emerald green and sapphire blue, while his chest, wings, horns, and underside of his tail were amethyst. His wings were bent behind him, and the tail curled around his back feet. And wrapped around one of his front claws was a lock of hair exactly the same color as hers. Unable to resist, she walked across the chilled marble. “That looks like my hair.”
Kieran glanced down, then back at her. “It is.”
How? It was a tattoo, wasn’t it? There was something ancient and powerful about the beast. The amethyst horns were incredibly sensual in the way they jutted out, then curved at the tips. Did you wake the dragon? Shivering at the memory of Liam asking that, feeling lost and unsure, she lifted her hand and laid it flat over the dragon’s chest. A second later, she felt twin hearts beat against her palm. They pulsed with a deep and brutal longing so profound that she gasped in response to the force of it, the absolute purity. It wasn’t bloodlust or sexual lust, but something more emotional and real. Then it was gone, and all she felt was warm skin and a single heartbeat of the lethal artist. “Is this the dragon I’m supposed to wake? I th
ought I saw him, he came to me and I knew he’d save me. Then you were there, and for a second I thought you were him.” She kept touching him.
“You called his name. Dyfyr.”
“I knew him. Know him.” She lifted her gaze up to Kieran’s face. “What’s happening? Nothing makes sense!”
Steam began trailing around them as they stood in front of the open door of the shower. Kieran’s massive shoulders tensed. “Evidently, I touched your blood, and he recognizes you.” He paused, laying his hand over hers pressed against the dragon. “We’re soul mirrors.”
She heard a clang in her head, like cymbals clashing, and pulled her hand away. “But I’m latent. I’m …” Her stomach twisted with bitter fear as she remembered the hot burn of that knife slicing her skin, her own screams ringing in her ears. “Whore magic. That’s what he called it. I don’t want that, I don’t want to—”
Key took hold of her arms. “Stop it. Don’t you dare let him define you, Roxy. Don’t you fucking dare.”
The hot fury pulsing in his words cut through her cold panic. “I hate your brother and want him dead.”
“We’re on the same page there, green eyes.” His face eased and he let go of her. “Not just dead, but his soul trapped in the between worlds, existing as a cold, pain-wracked shade for all of eternity.” He reached to her knees where his shirt hung on her, grasped the hem and pulled it off.
The warm steam pouring from the shower surrounded them, making it feel like a secret room far away from reality. He reached for the front clasp of her bra and unhooked it. She finally realized he was undressing her and grabbed his wrists.
He allowed her to hold him. “You’re too weak to do this yourself. I’m going to help you shower, find you something to wear, and get you into bed. Then figure out what to do next to keep you safe.”
She tried to explain. “It’s like I’ve been thrown into a fast-moving river and I can’t get out, can’t even catch my breath.” Her breasts were exposed, she was exposed, but Kieran looked into her eyes, listening. “I know what soul mirror means; we bond our souls and the curse breaks and frees you from bloodlust. But you’re my Awakening. Once my magic rises, I’ll need more and more sex. I don’t want that life. Sex magic twists and taints everything.”
Sinful Magic: A Wing Slayer Novel Page 9