Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
NINE
TEN
ELEVEN
TWELVE
THIRTEEN
FOURTEEN
FIFTEEN
SIXTEEN
SEVENTEEN
EIGHTEEN
NINETEEN
TWENTY
TWENTY-ONE
TWENTY-TWO
TWENTY-THREE
TWENTY-FOUR
TWENTY-FIVE
TWENTY-SIX
TWENTY-SEVEN
TWENTY-EIGHT
TWENTY-NINE
THIRTY
THIRTY-ONE
THIRTY-TWO
THIRTY-THREE
THIRTY-FOUR
THIRTY-FIVE
THIRTY-SIX
THIRTY-SEVEN
THIRTY-EIGHT
THIRTY-NINE
FORTY
FORTY-ONE
FORTY-TWO
FORTY-THREE
FORTY-FOUR
FORTY-FIVE
FORTY-SIX
FORTY-SEVEN
FORTY-EIGHT
FORTY-NINE
FIFTY
FIFTY-ONE
Teaser chapter
Praise for the work of Annette Blair
BEDEVILED ANGEL
“A very clever, entertaining, and humorous addition to the uplifting Works Like Magick series.”
—Fresh Fiction
“A magically enchanting paranormal romance that readers will find hard to put down . . . Richly enhanced with well-drawn, charismatic characters, an enthralling and imaginative plot, humor, scorching-hot love scenes, and a perfect ending, this story is absolutely bewitching.”
—Romance Junkies
“Annette Blair is a master at sweeping you from one emotion to the next with the flip of a page. Her humor mixed with life challenges always give you characters with dignity and laced with fun streaks.”
—The Good, The Bad and The Unread
“Annette Blair successfully creates a convincing world where the paranormal exist among everyday humans . . . The story is driven by the dynamics and interactions between the two [Chance and Queisha] and convincingly takes the reader on their personal journey . . . It is hard not to be carried away by the humor, emotion, love, sex, and mischief.”
—Romance Novel News
NAKED DRAGON
“Blair’s unusual paranormal . . . features charming characters, rich relationships, an inviting community, and sensuous lovemaking, all rolled up in a rollicking good read.”
—Booklist
“Forget the vampires and demons, give me the dragons! Full of suspense, humor, and romance, this novel is sure to please any paranormal or fantasy fan.”
—Huntress Book Reviews
“A highly entertaining, magickal read. Annette Blair once again proves why she’s on my auto-buy list. Everything I have ever read by this author has a place on my keeper shelf, and this is one series I can’t wait to see where Annette Blair takes next.”
—ParaNormal Romance
“A series that is off to a great start, in this reviewer’s humble opinion. I found myself completely hooked within the first thirty pages and could not put it down until the very last word had been savored.”
—Fallen Angel Reviews
“Blair’s first story in her new Works Like Magick series introduces wonderfully magical dragon men. The adjustments the hero must make to fit in to this modern world are delightfully handled, and the main characters’ interactions with each other and those around them make for a fun and enjoyable escape from reality.”
—Romantic Times
NEVER BEEN WITCHED
“A superb tale . . . Whimsical but heart wrenching . . . Magician Annette Blair provides a terrific finish to an entertaining saga.”
—Alternative Worlds
“A perfect ending to a witchy trilogy. Annette Blair’s writing is pure magic! Highly recommended!”
—Huntress Book Reviews
“A wonderful tale of love, understanding, and forgiveness, told with passion and humor. The reader will be captivated from the first page and will find it difficult to put this enchanting story down . . . [Never Been Witched includes] a good amount of hilarity and eroticism tossed in as only Ms. Blair can do.”
—Fresh Fiction
GONE WITH THE WITCH
“A spellbinding story that totally knocked my socks off!”
—Huntress Book Reviews
“Wonderful characters, a riveting story line, and a sensuous undercurrent are just a few of the things that made this such a phenomenal story.”
—Romance Junkies
SEX AND THE PSYCHIC WITCH
“Sassy, sexy, and sizzling!”
—Reader to Reader Reviews
“A sexy, hilarious, romantic tale with fun characters, snappy writing, and some super-spooky moments.”
—Fresh Fiction
THE SCOT, THE WITCH AND THE WARDROBE
“Sassy dialogue, rich sexual tension, and plenty of laughs make this an immensely satisfying return to Blair’s world of witchcraft.”
—Publishers Weekly
“Snappy dialogue can’t disguise the characters’ true insecurities, giving depth to Blair’s otherwise breezy, lighthearted tale.”
—Booklist
MY FAVORITE WITCH
“Annette Blair will make your blood sizzle with this magical tale.”
—Huntress Book Reviews
“This warmhearted story is a delight, filled with highly appealing characters sure to touch your heart. The magic in the air spotlights the humor that’s intrinsic to the story. A definite charmer!”
—Romantic Times
THE KITCHEN WITCH
“A fun and sexy romp.”
—Booklist
“Bewitching! Full of charm, humor, sensuality . . . An easyreading, reader-pleasing story that makes you feel good all over.”
—Reader to Reader Reviews
Berkley Sensation titles by Annette Blair
THE KITCHEN WITCH
MY FAVORITE WITCH
THE SCOT, THE WITCH AND THE WARDROBE
SEX AND THE PSYCHIC WITCH
GONE WITH THE WITCH
NEVER BEEN WITCHED
THE NAKED DRAGON
BEDEVILED ANGEL
VAMPIRE DRAGON
Berkley Prime Crime titles by Annette Blair
A VEILED DECEPTION
LARCENY AND LACE
DEATH BY DIAMONDS
THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP
Published by the Penguin Group
Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
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Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, Lon
don WC2R 0RL, England
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
VAMPIRE DRAGON
A Berkley Sensation Book / published by arrangement with the author
PRINTING HISTORY
Berkley Sensation mass-market edition / April 2011
Copyright © 2011 by Annette Blair.
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
For information, address: The Berkley Publishing Group,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,
375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.
eISBN : 978-1-101-47773-1
BERKLEY® SENSATION
Berkley Sensation Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,
375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.
BERKLEY® SENSATION and the “B” design are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
http://us.penguingroup.com
Dedicated with love and thanks to:
Diane Haynes
for welcoming me to
SOME ENCHANTED EVENING,
A New Age Shop where magic comes to life
and hope fills the air with charm and possibilities.
Diane, may you carve your niche in mountain rock
with pen and ink.
And to the friends who make my every visit to
SOME ENCHANTED EVENING
a tea-party delight,
rich with friendship, laughter, and joy.
Here’s raising my teacup to each of you.
Brightest Blessings!
DRAGONS TO MEN AGAIN
A Roman legion, Killian the dark witch did change into dragons and banish.
To the Island of Stars, on a plane beyond ours, they did vanish.
Wondrous beasts who might well be dead, B
ut for Andra, guardian witch, from whom hope never fled.
At the rise of the moons when all went black,
She had turned the first to a man with mild flak,
So for this and future spells, her rhyme stayed intact:
“Shed horns, spines, claws, and webbed wings. Shrink scales, spade, and tail—”
Killian countered with a fiery bolt; Darkwyn writhed as he took the jolt,
While Andra missed not a beat or a mote:
“Warrior to beast, now back again. Send this man to the plane he began.”
Darkwyn twisted to shift, from dragon to man, in the steam from the rift,
An elder stood by to share the gift.
ONE
Dakwyn Dragonelli tucked and rolled into a damp, pungent alley and came to a forced stop against a pair of well-turned ankles, one of them about to puncture his shoulder with the spike at its heel.
“What have we here?” she with the spikes asked. “A naked acrobat? Don’t kneel there hiding your assets. Stand and introduce yourself.”
Darkwyn ran his slow gaze upward, along a set of curves that could make a dragon man weep. She wore boots of a sort that ended at her thighs, slick-black leg-huggers with the supple, sturdy texture of leather, though he could see himself in them.
On her face, her horned mask of the same sheen revealed a striking pair of bold violet eyes. Eyes that met his, head-on, no backing down, a gaze that brought his heart to life, and, oddly, to beat in time with hers, a heart of flawless beauty.
Darkwyn took pause. How would he know how fast her heart beat, how beautiful it was? Unless—
No. Per Andra, his guardian, he must seek his heart mate—the single female in the universe whose heart he could see for its undeniable beauty and whose mind and emotions spoke to his.
Heart mates did not stand waiting at the threshold of the veil, destination side, no matter how tempting and extraordinary their hearts.
Did they? Did his?
As if to prove his argument, the stunner’s valor yielded to hesitant confusion, and she stepped back, boots squeaking when they rubbed together. She seemed as perplexed as he. Except, she did not have the Goddess Andra’s counsel on seeking heart mates, nor would she be of a mind to find hers, in the way he must seek his own.
Without another word, she quit the dim alley for the sunny outdoors, her long violet hair bouncing off her perfect backside with every sultry swing of her hips, in the same way the door bounced behind her.
She’d made an escape of sorts, but why?
The action concerned him, as if she refused to succumb to her own inner thoughts, an attitude that might concern her life quest, soon to be his . . . in the event she was his heart mate.
Absurdly, as he watched her go, Darkwyn sensed he wanted more from the enchantress, but what exactly? Besides seeing behind her mask. Why show courage one moment and run the next?
He sensed her unease and did not feel mistaken in that. Did the violet-eyed wonder have the sight like Andra? Could this splendid earthling who braved him in the present expect to fear him in the future? A question not to be answered until, if and when, at some point in time, they met once more.
Case closed. Perhaps.
Darkwyn took a moment to appreciate the quiet after his erratically raucous passage through the ether, avoiding clawed, wailing felines and the colorful mockery of a dive-bombing bird. Magickal creatures all, per Andra’s invisible assurance.
Those caws and mews filled the distance, still, but Darkwyn saw nothing of their owners as his cramped legs forced him to rise to his surroundings.
Ah, he’d not been crouched in an alley but behind a half wall. And judging by the sea of gape-jawed patrons, he stood in a publick house and must appear to have risen as if from the ether. Close enough.
Given his lack of dress, Darkwyn appreciated the waist-high flat-topped divider between himself and his watchers.
He took in the sweet-sour scents of fermented grapes and roasting meats. He observed the wary, hostile whisperers, clear tankards in hand, and found this to be an extraordinarily ordinary world, much like the one he left centuries before, when Killian of Chaos turned his Roman legion into dragons in an evil act of spite.
“Civilization,” Andra might call this. But given the expressions on the human types watching him, “civil” did not fit the mood. Nevertheless, Darkwyn firmed his spine, thinking he might, after all, prefer drowning in lava to standing here. But Andra’s words rang true: “No going back.”
His throat rusty, he had yet to form a word. A dragon, silent for centuries, now a man again, he firmed his lips. Telepathy and dragon speak he knew well, with but a rudimentary grasp of English, thanks to Andra.
He employed it attempting a telepathic call for help, but no one replied. So he raised his chin, revealed no fear, and regarded his watchers as steadily as they did him.
Astonishing, women sitting with men in an alehouse. Neither serving wenches nor prostitutes, they drank the fruit of the vine wearing less than dancing girls. Another world, this, where camp followers lived equal to men, and a bird squawked in the distance.
Ah, his magickal companion, sent to breach the veil, perhaps, because magickal supernaturals journeyed at different speeds.
Cranky bird would enjoy the hostility here—wherever here may be.
Darkwyn looked from one to the other of his watchers and felt the need to grab a nearby flask by its neck, while in his left hand, he hid a fist-sized island diamond, rough and raw for “she who would acclimate him,” from Andra Goddess of Hope.
Raising that
flask warmed local expressions, their amusement giving him hope. Not as hostile as he surmised.
Thankfully, Jagidy, his sea green guardian dragon, arrived, and flew about, emitting a faint air-shivering whistle as he smoke-tested the area. Green smoke meant neither good nor bad, but an inability by the guardian to detect malice or kindness, likely a result of general surprise. He’d caught them off guard, of course.
Darkwyn opened his thoughts to the miniaturized elder, now a pocket-sized dragon. Jagidy, methinks we stand in Rome no more, even the Island of Stars is a memory.
Fortunately, no one could see Jagidy but him.
A man entered the narrow alley beside him, bearing on his shoulder a shiny silver barrel, on his face, a small mask. “What’s this?” said he. “Inebriated entertainment?” He’d come in the door through which the violet-haired beauty left.
Given the man’s affability, Darkwyn lowered the flask.
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