Fury of Obsession (Dragonfury Series Book 5)

by Coreene Callahan

  A quick death. Faster than Ferland deserved and Gage wanted, but . . .

  Time was of the essence.

  So was a quick getaway.

  As Ferland’s heart stopped beating, he disintegrated, muscle and bone dissolving into ash. Gray flakes floated, swirling on stale air, rising up to surround Gage. Silence descended. Relief took hold, rushing fatigue back to the forefront. His body throbbed, making him feel every cut and scrape, burn and bruise. Gritting his teeth, Gage turned toward the exit.

  Pale faced, Osgard took a step back.

  His gaze narrowed on the kid. “You run and you’re dead.”

  Osgard flinched at the sound of his voice. Staring at the ash pile on the floor, the kid swallowed. As his Adam’s apple bobbed, he released a shuddered breath. “I won’t run. Or raise the alarm, but . . .”

  “But what?”

  “Take me with you. Please, my lord, take me with you.”

  Fear in his eyes, Osgard met him head-on, standing tall in the face of brutality. Hope mingled with terror, making the youngling’s pale eyes shimmer. Gage’s chest went tight. He bit down on a snarl. Goddamned son of a bitch. Of all the rotten luck. Just what he didn’t need . . . a tagalong wrapped up in a kid in need of rescue. But as the kid bowed his head and knelt on the cold concrete a few feet away, Gage knew he was in trouble. He despised bullies. Disliked seeing others mistreated, and always championed the underdog. A flaw in his nature, he knew.

  Too bad he couldn’t seem to help it.

  Every time he tried, he ended up neck-deep in dangerous territory—like now, facing off with a youngling in desperate need of help—and little hope of a better future. Which . . . just kill him now . . . set his protective nature ablaze. As the inferno got going, Osgard threw more fuel on the fire, trembling in front of him, whispering another please, begging Gage until his heart clenched. Now he hurt for the kid. Not a good sign. He tended to do stupid things when—

  “I will be useful, I swear it,” Osgard whispered, desperation in his voice. “I will serve you well if you but give me a chance to prove my—”

  “I don’t need a servant.”

  “A son, then.”

  A son. Gage blinked, surprise spinning him full circle.

  “All warriors need a son. I know I am not of your blood, but I am strong and willing to learn. I will be a good son to you, I promise.” Lifting his chin, Osgard hammered him with pleading eyes. “I know you are a worthy male . . . that you come from an honorable pack. Please, my lord, do not leave me here with Zidane.”

  Well, shit. A sucker punch. An excellent one too.

  Smart little whelp. Osgard knew what he was doing. Particularly since his hatred of Zidane cranked Gage’s need to help the kid into overdrive. Despite the seriousness of the situation, amusement streamed through him. His mouth curved. Good for Osgard. The kid played dirty. Possessed his fair share of brains . . . a truckload of potential too. Something akin to pride punched through, warming the center of his chest. Gage killed the reaction—along with the sentiment—and smoothed his expression. He didn’t have time to mess around. And standing in the middle of a torture chamber chatting with a kid? Yeah, that qualified as stupid. So only one thing left to do . . .

  Get a move on.

  Favoring his right side, Gage tucked his elbow against his rib cage and, shoving aside discomfort, limped toward Osgard. His bare feet brushed the uneven floor. Silence expanded, throbbing through the room as he came alongside the male. Still on his knees, the kid tensed, but stayed true, allowing Gage’s proximity. Uncertainty took hold, making him hesitate. He shoved it aside, then reached out. Grabbing the back of Osgard’s shirt, he hauled the whelp to his feet.

  Osgard’s chin came up.

  Gage drilled him with an intense look. “Do you know where my friend is being held?”

  He nodded. “I brought him a meal an hour ago. They have him caged not far from here.”

  “Show me.” Done with the chitchat, Gage spun the kid around. Palming his shoulder, he pushed Osgard toward the door. “We don’t have much time.”

  “Does that mean . . .” Osgard trailed off, bright and shiny hope in his expression. “Are you—” He swallowed, the bob of his Adam’s apple telling. “Taking me with you, my lord?”

  Folding like a windblown reed, Gage growled. “Don’t call me that. It’s Gage. Call me my lord one more time, kid, and you won’t be going anywhere. I’ll rip your head off instead.”

  Moisture in his eyes, Osgard treated him to a wobbly smile.

  Gage quelled the urge to cringe. He recognized that look. Relief times a gazillion . . . pure, unadulterated happiness. The kind that used hero worship as a launch pad. He shook his head. God, he was so screwed. Fucked six ways to Sunday. Up shit creek without a paddle. Whatever. The metaphor didn’t matter. The mess he stood in the middle of, however, did . . . a whole helluva lot. Meant everything, in point of fact. Now only one truth held sway. Being injured, deep in enemy territory with fatigue gnawing on him—and a youngling to protect—wasn’t optimal. But as he gave Osgard a gentle shove, limped over the threshold and into the corridor behind his new charge, Gage refused to reverse course. He’d made his decision.

  And sealed his fate.

  Osgard was coming with him.

  Nothing left to do now but hope the whelp hadn’t lied. He needed to find Haider and get out of the underground lair . . . lickety-split fast. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be able to protect himself or his friend, never mind a kid in desperate need of rescue.

  Chapter Nine

  Hidden from view by an invisibility spell, Venom stood on the sidewalk outside the Luxmore, watching Evelyn cross the parking lot. A bad move. He’d known it five minutes ago—before he vaulted over the balcony railing, plummeting three stories to land on the garden path below. He’d known it as he trailed her across the horseshoe-shaped driveway too. In the same way he knew it now. Too bad he couldn’t kill his reaction. No matter how many times he told himself to stop—to stay put and allow her to leave without interference—primal instinct grabbed hold, refusing to release him. He needed to make sure. To see her safely to her car . . . and ensure no one accosted her on the way out.

  The reaction smacked of dominance. Of possessiveness and a need so profound it couldn’t be denied.

  Par for the course, he guessed. Energy-fuse was serious stuff. A magic-driven bond that never said quit. Or faded over time. Once triggered, a Dragonkind male couldn’t resist the pull. Which explained a lot, didn’t it? Like why he stood rooted to the spot, eyes trained on Evelyn, his dragon half silently protesting her retreat, heart pounding so hard Venom wondered when he’d lost his mind. Sometime in the last hour, for sure. Nothing else explained his willingness to let her go without making love to her.

  Or the fact he watched from a distance while she walked away.

  The action seemed unnatural. Like a huge mistake. The worst of his life. Hands flexing into fists, Venom clenched his teeth. Talk about an understatement. He’d made more than his fair share. Had screwed up so many times he’d lost count years ago. And yet as the click of her high heels grew fainter, he questioned the validity of his plan. His brows collided. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe kidnapping her was the way to go. Maybe given enough time Evelyn would come to care for him—just as the other Nightfuries’ chosen females had their mates—’cause sure as shit, watching her leave felt, well . . . wrong.

  All wrong.

  Screwed up to the highest power or something.

  Now all he wanted was to say the hell with it. Forget the plan. Bury his reasons along with the patient approach six feet under. Right. Wrong. Neither mattered anymore. Not while the urge to cross the road, pick her up, and carry her home thumped on him. Trying to loosen the tension, he rolled his shoulders. Taut muscles pulled, stretching along either side of his spine, but refused to give an inch. The ache stayed. And temptation
? Venom huffed. That bastard kept poking at him, making the need to go after her hard to resist. Now he hung between two trains of thought—retrieve or let her go.

  The first idea sounded better than the second.

  Easy. Effective. Immediate gratification wrapped up in expediency. Abduction—a strategy loaded with real possibility. Except for one thing.

  Evelyn wasn’t just any female.

  She belonged to him. Was the one he’d waited for all his life. His mate. His to nurture and protect. His to bring into the Nightfury fold. Which meant he couldn’t rush her. He wanted her acceptance. He needed her to love him. He craved a chance at a lifetime with her, so . . .

  Blowing out a long breath, Venom shook his head. No way. Not going to happen. He needed to keep it together and stick to the plan. Wooing her—putting in the necessary time—would get him further faster. Hammering the facts home, he locked his knees. His muscles twitched, protesting the clampdown. He ignored the discomfort. Moving wasn’t a good idea. Not right now. The second his feet left the ground, he’d be done, halfway across the street with nothing good in mind. How fast he could get his hands on Evelyn topped the list. How much he wanted to kiss her again scored high too. How amazing it would feel to finish what they’d started in the hotel room and—

  Goddamn it. Wrong thought. Again.

  With a growl, Venom put a leash on desire. Restraint settled back into place, leveling him out, allowing him to take a full breath, letting logic lead. Thank God. The possessive crap wasn’t much fun. Watching Evelyn move, though? Hmm baby, that was a complete pleasure.

  Head bowed, feet moving at a rapid clip, Evelyn dug inside her handbag. Dragon senses keen, he heard her curse under her breath, then grumble in relief as she unearthed her keys. She rotated the set in her hand. Metal jangled against her palm. The work of seconds, she flipped the lock, popped the handle, and pulled the door wide. Rusty hinges creaked, cutting through the quiet, making Evelyn flinch. Looking a little paranoid and a lot worried, she glanced around, scanning the darkness beyond the pool of lamplight. Venom tightened the invisibility spell, ensuring he stayed out of sight. The last thing he wanted was for her to think he spied on her. He pursed his lips. All right, so he was following her around like a puppy, but that didn’t mean he wanted her to know it.

  Her gaze swept over the spot where he stood, then snapped back.

  Dark eyes narrowed, Evelyn looked right at him. Her brows furrowed. Venom tensed. Wow, that was weird. No way she could see him. Not with his magic up and running, but her stillness said something different. She sensed him. Knew she wasn’t alone and that he stood within range. He could tell by her expression. Confusion and uncertainty spiked in her scent. She whispered his name. The slight inflection in her tone made the soft volley into a question. Venom’s mouth curved. Umm, such a good sign. The best of the best, really. Why? If she could sense him, the bond he shared with her ranked as strong.

  Off the charts, out of this world, solid.

  A good thing for him. Not so great for her right now. Evelyn was more than a touch uncertain. She was starting to freak out. Tapping into her bio-energy, he listened to her heart race. Boom-boom-throb. Slam-slam-bang. The sound carried weight, tightening his chest. Her anxiety hit him next, adding to the mix down, setting off a sound track inside his head.

  Desperate to reassure her, he reached out with his mind.

  “You’re safe, Evie,” he thought at her. A death grip on the door edge, she frowned. Her gaze swept him again. Still unable to see him, she shook her head. He sent a ghosting swirl out in a warm wave, surrounding her with certitude. “Go home, mazleiha.”

  As the endearment enveloped her, Evelyn blew out a shaky breath. Brows still drawn, she took one last look and, inky curls bobbing against the side of her throat, slipped inside the car. The hem of her dress rose, flashing a gorgeous length of thigh. Desire clawed through him and hung on hard. Venom swallowed, shutting down need, forcing himself to be patient. Not that it helped. Already jacked-up and tuned-in, he followed her every move, fixating on the details. The last scrape of her three-inch stiletto on pavement. The incredible hue of her mocha-colored skin. The innate pride that kept her shoulders square and chin level. All of it made him burn with emotion so explosive it tilted toward obsession.

  Soon, his dragon half growled.

  “Very, very soon,” Venom murmured, echoing the sentiment as Evelyn turned out of the parking lot.

  Gravel crunched beneath her tires.

  Venom held the line, refusing to step off the curb. He must let her go . . . for now. But not for long. Tomorrow night wasn’t that far away. He could do it. Stay true long enough to accomplish his goal—a dinner date with Evelyn. Maybe more than one if all went well. A string of encounters that would draw her so far into his sphere, she would accept the truth of who and what he was—a Dragonkind warrior in thrall to his mate. A male so far gone he would do whatever it took to possess and please her.

  Starting with the biggest no-no of all—leaving her alone.

  Both hands on the wheel, Evelyn put the pedal down and drove past him. Street lights stroked over the hatchback’s faded red paint, bleeding into a pale flash of white license plate. He memorized the digits, tucking the information into the back of his brain. He might need it later. Not that he required the string of numbers to find her again. After sampling her life force, he was hooked in. So attuned to the unique frequency of her bio-energy he could track her over long distances. Sloan, though, was a different story. The more detail he fed the Nightfury computer genius, the more likely Venom would get the intel he wanted before meeting Evelyn at Figorelli’s tomorrow night.

  Gaze on the red flash of her taillights, Venom watched his female hang a right onto Union Avenue. The second her car disappeared around the corner, Venom unleashed his magic. With a snarl, he shifted from human to dragon form. Dark-green scales replaced his skin, sliding over his shoulders to meet the black webbing of his wings. He unfolded both, relishing the rattle of scales and stretch of stiff muscles, then stepped into the middle of the street. His razor-sharp claws clicked against the blacktop and . . . hmm, yeah. Lots of room out here. No annoying shrubs poking at his back. No electrical wires brushing his horns. No humans in sight either. Just loads of space on a deserted avenue. The perfect launchpad to get airborne, then good and gone.

  Or rather, head for home.

  Before anyone realized he’d been gone.

  Muscles bunching, he bared his fangs and leapt skyward. His wings caught air. Heavy gusts picked up road debris. Small stones and dirt billowed in his wake, blowing a nasty cloud up the Luxmore’s drive. Ignoring the dust-up, Venom ascended fast, rocketing into the night sky. The chill of midnight rushed over the horns on his head. Condensation formed on his scales, icing up the spikes along his spine. Relishing the chilly splash of release, he wheeled around a tall apartment building. His wing tip grazed a run of windows. Glass rattled, shaking the steel frames. A few lights flipped on as his brush with the building woke inhabitants inside. Senses pinpoint sharp, he heard sheets rustle a moment before human feet hit the floor.

  A lock clicked. A patio door slid open behind him.

  He tightened the cloaking spell, deepening the shield of invisibility. Just before he cleared the side of the high rise, Venom glanced over his shoulder. A large male stepped out onto a narrow balcony and scanned the horizon. Seeing nothing but a sky full of normal, the guy grumbled under his breath. An apt reaction. Venom grinned. He couldn’t help it. The male’s pissed-off expression tickled his funny bone, lightening his mood, making the last of his tension fall away, relaxing him into flight. Such a welcome reprieve. He hadn’t realized how uptight releasing Evelyn had made him. The human’s reaction, though, recalibrated his internal gauge, helping him wipe away the strain.

  Venom exhaled long and slow. Excellent. All clear on the emotional front. Now for the tricky part . . .

&n
bsp; Getting into Black Diamond. Without Daimler raising the alarm.

  Wings spread wide, Venom shook his head. Damned Numbai. The male had eyes in the back of his head. Add that flaw to Daimler’s rigid sense of responsibility—and his need to protect the warriors he considered his—and . . . yeah. The instant he realized Venom wasn’t where he was supposed to be, it would be game over. No slowing him down. No way out of the ass-kicking either. Hell, the Nightfury’s go-to guy would no doubt make popcorn and settle in for the show while Bastian took a fist to his face. Although . . .

  Venom frowned. That might be overstating it a bit.

  Daimler might love rules, but he wasn’t cruel. Nowhere near insensitive either. More astute than most, the Numbai would understand what drove him. And why he hadn’t been able to sit around while Wick got his rocks off with J. J.. . . and ignored Venom. He grimaced. What an awful thought. Terrible in point of fact. He sounded like a whiny pissant—completely unworthy for being jealous of his best friend.

  Evelyn’s face morphed in his mind’s eye.

  He hummed and, settling into a smooth glide over thick forest, closed his eyes. He held on to the image of her, reveling in the fullness of her mouth. Her taste too. The way she fit in his arms, the softness of her skin and . . . ha! Jealous. Venom snorted. Strike that. Make it past tense. With Evelyn on his radar—and within reach—he felt less alone. Like a male on the precipice of an important event. The kind that changed everything. Purpose came home to roost, renewing belief, raising faith, preparing him for—

  A cloud of static blew into his head.

  Fantasyland shut down, wiping Evelyn from his mind. His dragon half rose, shoving him straight into instinct. He let the monster out of its cage as the hiss expanded between his temples. Pain clawed the inside of his skull. Experience rang his internal alarm bell. Firing up magic, Venom sent a sonar blast wide, casting a cosmic web over the treetops. Goddamn it. No magical markers of any kind, even fewer identifiers. The signal kept skipping all over the place, denying his attempt to get a lock on it. Which left him with dick-all. Nothing but ancient trees and rocky outcroppings as the terrain grew rougher.