by Marie Harte
Plan N—another kind of hybrid that would enhance the legion army. And one that would prove difficult to keep under his control when Asael started sniffing around.
Jentaron decided to follow his brother’s example and changed into a human, keeping his dragon wings. He remained naked, however, his purpose still in mind. Unlike his brothers, he had white-blond hair and marbled blue eyes.
“So pretty. You’re dragon-light,” Eve teased, used to nudity.
But his brother frowned as he studied him. Good.
“Light but powerful. Eve, you know you prefer gold and blue to black and boring.” Jentaron raised a brow at his brother’s growl. A puff of smoke escaped his nose, though Jentaron could see his brother’s amusement.
Time to turn that humor into another kind of passion.
Jentaron walked up to Eve and pulled her into his arms.
His brother’s mirth faded, to be replaced by a dark scowl. When Jentaron had been new to life, his brother and Eve had shared their love, emotionally and physically. Ranton had gifted Jentaron by sharing his mate, so that Jentaron would understand carnal needs. But that sharing hadn’t lasted long. Jentaron had known Ranton’s connection to Eve would soon turn too territorial to survive even a Guardian’s Bond.
“Jentaron?” Eve cupped his cheek, her dark blue eyes turning black with arousal…and confusion. “What—?”
“Ease off, little brother,” Ranton warned.
Jentaron enhanced the raw magic of desire pooling within him and drew Eve closer for a kiss. He shielded them both from his brother’s rage and blew into her mouth, seeding Eve with a creator’s carnal need. Enhanced, magical and potent, she would be a lure no dragon could resist. And certainly not one her mate would deny.
He drew back and stared into her cloudy gaze. She was beautiful, so fitting for his brother, his first Guardian. He ran a finger over her cheek, then smiled. In the blink of an eye, he hugged her tight and shot straight up into the sky.
Ranton followed, as Jentaron had known he would. His brother’s eyes had turned blood-red, and half his body turned to scale while claws replaced fingernails. “You little bastard. Royal or not, you’re going to get your ass handed to you.”
Jentaron continued higher, knowing how Eve despised heights.
“When he’s done, I’m going to beat you.” She broke out in blue flame all over her body.
Perfect. Both mates raging, that energy would easily turn to physical desire.
“Now, now. You know that fire only turns me on.” He licked his lips. “Yum.” Jentaron was the only dragon who could create the same flame as the Sinclairs. Blue fire—a special magic all its own.
Ranton had nearly caught them.
It was time to act. “Sorry, Eve. It has to be done.”
“What? Wait, what are you…?” She trailed off as he loosened his grip. “No. Don’t you dare. Jentaron,” she screamed when he pushed her away.
Ranton changed course between one breath and the next and made a beeline for Eve. He caught her and turned to head for Jentaron.
Suddenly he stopped, hovering in mid-air.
Jentaron watched with satisfaction as his brother drew in Eve’s scent, then darted away from the stronghold with her in his arms. The call of the magical nest Jentaron had created a few days earlier would pull at his brother, and there he and Eve would proceed to breed the very first of the nailiim—dragon-demon progeny.
Jentaron’s sneaky, necessary and deadly Plan N.
Now he just had to make sure Ranton didn’t chew him alive for working around his and Eve’s breeding objections. And when the time came, that their little terrors stayed loyal to dragonkind, under his control.
Chapter Two
Ella Nelson had thought about getting back at her ex-best friend for a solid month. Ever since she’d found out that the pretender had not only cheated her out of a promotion, but stolen out from under her the one man Ella found interesting, she’d been biding her time until the perfect opportunity arose.
Unfortunately, Ella didn’t do revenge. Or exciting. Or sex with a hot guy. She had a bad case of ADD with life. Everything bored her after a while. This was the longest she’d held a job in years, and already she found herself wanting to leave it all behind. Even a need for vengeance had become too dull to put any more than thought into.
I’m the queen of blah.
“Hey, Ella. You ready for that board meeting today?”
“Sure am.” Ella smiled through her teeth. “I’m sure your presentation will knock it out of the park.” Especially since I did all the work.
“We’ll kill ’em dead.”
“And it’ll be messy, I’m sure.” Their old joke felt so appropriate right now. Ella wanted her life to be messy, to mean something. She felt as if she floated past everything, not quite in touch with the world around her. She wasn’t someone others ever looked to for guidance, advice or a relationship. Not like her ex-friend.
Lauren wore a professional A-line skirt and low cut blouse. It said “I’m feminine and sexy, but I want to be taken seriously.” Ella hated her a little for that too, that the woman could wear anything and look like a million bucks. Blonde-haired, blue-eyed Lauren ate what she wanted, regularly skipped gym workouts and had any man’s attention for the asking. Which made it questionable as to why she’d come on to Peter when she’d known good and well that Ella liked him.
Of course Peter had welcomed her attention. And sure, Ella had never out and out declared dibs, but she’d talked about him all the time. Lauren knew how she felt. Ella had just about worked up the nerve to ask Peter for a date when she’d heard the unmistakable sounds of Lauren banging his brains out while she stood outside the woman’s apartment, waiting for their weekly movie night.
Now it all seemed suspect, as if Lauren had set herself up to be caught in the act. A way of telling without telling. Sly, subtle and something Ella wished she could pull off. Pesky morals.
She finally understood why so many colleagues seemed to give Lauren the cold shoulder. Not because they were jealous, as Lauren had often complained, but because they’d been the victims of her narcissism. The woman stepped over everyone to get what she wanted. It had only taken Ella a year to learn the truth.
Backstabbing, two-timing, money-grubbing bitch. A comforting rage settled deep in her bones like a warm glass of whiskey. Welcomed, smooth and familiar. Anger took her from the doldrums. Only fury made her feel alive—and that was the one thing she had to hold back, because too much anger inside her became a very bad thing.
“After you.” Ella followed Lauren into the conference room and moved to the back with the other peons not important enough to sit with corporate’s big boss, the man who’d come down from Green Bay to visit their satellite office in Plymouth Meeting.
Taking her place with the others, Ella readied her cell phone to record, because she’d said she would and hated to break a promise, and gave Lauren a thumbs up she didn’t mean.
The perky man-stealer smiled and chatted with the bosses. Then the presentation started. Lauren wowed everyone with the slides created courtesy of Ella’s unwavering diligence. She struck the right chords with a sense of humor, charm and obvious physical appeal.
The unfairness of it all built. All the hard work, the unpaid overtime, the hassling with phone calls and outdated computers and effort in hopes of getting that promotion. For what? So Lauren could flaunt her considerable assets and steal it all right out from under her?
The final portion of the meeting started, and something clicked into place inside Ella.
Uh-oh. Showtime.
Lauren flashed a toothy smile. “And now, a short video about what Care & Concern Medical Services can do for you.”
Their home health care for the elderly had garnered national attention. They’d even opened a few dozen more centers where those with special needs, as
well as the elderly in need of daytime care, could be looked after. Those had been Ella’s brainchild. Ella’s hard work.
Ella should have seen this coming. She and Lauren had never had an issue, because they liked different things. Ella preferred to blend in to the woodwork and offer support. Lauren wanted to be the center of attention and rule the roost.
Ella closed her eyes, unable to stem the freaky headache that would open the door to that other sense she had. The one that spilled secrets most people wanted to hide. Like a diver plunging into the deep end, she stroked deep into the center of Lauren’s private thoughts, the ones Lauren kept hidden, even from herself.
Filled to the brim, Ella needed to direct those private images somewhere else. The idea of revenge became too tempting to ignore, and she shifted those images into the presentation. Though she’d never understood how she could do it, she’d always been able to transform a person’s secrets into a visible manifestation.
Normally uncomfortable with what felt like a curse, today she relished her gift. No longer bored, she felt alive. Angry. Steal my thunder, will you?
“Bravo so far. No wonder your office is in my top five, Brad,” Mr. Kellen directed to Ella’s supervisor, a man susceptible to big blue eyes and bouncy breasts.
“Thanks. But this is all Lauren’s work, isn’t—What is that?”
On the screen, a video of Lauren going down on Peter replaced two old men in wheelchairs. Peter played with her hair while he had her suck him down. Then he had her lick him in all manner of places before she begged him for an assfuck in that whiny, breathy tone that annoyed Ella to no end.
“Oh my God.” Lauren gasped. “That’s not me. It’s not!”
Two more men walked into the bedroom with Lauren and Peter and joined in the fun. The scene had never actually occurred, but deep down, Lauren had wondered what it might be like. Thus, another secret spilled to the big screen.
“Lauren!” Brad sounded shocked.
Ella’s head pounded, but she kept filming with her cell phone, wanting to immortalize the moment. Was it wrong to take comfort in Lauren’s misery?
Who the hell cared?
Mr. Kellen had yet to blink. No one at the table or in the back said anything, likely still in shock at the raw sex onscreen.
“It’s not true,” Lauren said through tears as she fiddled with the computer, trying desperately to shut it off and unplug it.
Not going to work, sweetie. Ella could sometimes affect electronics, and today her gift worked on overdrive, a result of too much stress. Her headache continued to grow, but pleasure over Lauren’s humiliation made the pain more than tolerable.
I should win an Oscar for this production.
The room remained silent, while onscreen moans and groans filled the air. Not one person even pretended to turn away, leave or try to help Lauren turn off the computer.
The video scene shifted to Lauren lying in Peter’s arms, still naked, while she laughed about her colleagues at work. Then Peter suggested she don a strap-on and get ready to ride him once more.
Too bad that had also had been fantasy rather than reality.
Despite being attractive, Peter had never seemed too adventurous. Sweet, kind, sexy and hung, sure. Ella mourned the grand size of his cock. He would have been someone to stave the tediousness for a while. But she had a hard time handling nice. Even if he did have a nice package.
She coughed to muffle a snicker.
Now sobbing and at her wit’s end to turn off the video, Lauren scrambled to apologize. “I’m so embarrassed. None of this is real. It had to be Photoshopped or something. They must have edited me into this—this pornographic movie.” She hiccupped. “I’ve never seen any of those men before.”
Ella had to say something. “But, Lauren, isn’t Peter your boyfriend?”
Lauren’s cheeks blanched. “He, well, no. I mean, I know him. But not like that. Someone set me up. None of this is real!”
You got that right, witch.
“I don’t know what to say, Lauren.” Brad’s voice shook. In shock or arousal, Ella couldn’t tell. Her head was about to explode from exerting so much energy into the computer as well as keeping it on.
But she hadn’t had this much fun in ages.
Lauren looked around, as if searching for support, and found none. When her gaze met Ella’s, Ella feigned a sad face and shook her head in disappointment. She stepped aside when Lauren ran out of the room in tears.
The computer finally winked out. No one moved or said anything.
Then one of the women giggled. Others started whispering, then the noise grew deafening.
Ella caught a few loud thoughts. Ha. She’s finally getting hers after diming me out for being late.
Serves her right. My kid was sick a few days, and Miss High and Mighty pulls rank on me then blames me for her report errors. Please.
Take my promotion and this is what you get. Hell, even Ella would have been a better fit. Lord knows she and I both deserved it. Not Lauren Look-at-My-Tits Daley.
Oh man. If I’d known what a freak she is, I wouldn’t have waited so long to ask her out. Wonder if she’d lick my balls like that.
A few other mental rumbles piled on until Ella’s eyes teared up. Her head throbbed and she forced herself to shut down before she risked a bloody nose. But God, had that been worth it.
She followed the excited mob out of the conference room and went back to her cubicle. She didn’t get much work done, but she only had to fake it another hour before she escaped for the day.
* * * * *
Instead of heading home, she drove to her favorite local bar and sat at a corner table. The place had a worn but safe feel to it. Populated by tired middle class types, like her, and the occasional blue collar stiff, the numbed minds around her soothed her frazzled brain.
“What’s up, Ella?”
Her cousin, Milo, snapped his gum while waiting for her order. Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome with a liberal dash of charming. Unlike her, he attracted men without effort.
“Long day.” She took a good hard look at what she’d done. “Oh my God, what a day,” she said through hysterical laughter, exhausted yet exhilarated. She didn’t stop until Milo held a napkin under her nose to stem a rush of blood.
“I see that.” He sighed. “I’ll get you a drink. Go fix yourself.” He nodded in the direction of the restrooms.
She came back to find a burger and fries had accompanied a beer, and Milo sat waiting for her.
“Thanks. I’m starving.”
“I figured.” He watched her eat.
“What?”
“So? Tell me all of it.” He leaned forward, his elbows on the table, and rested his chin in his hands.
“Shouldn’t you be, you know, working?”
He snorted. “Please. I run this joint, honey. Now speak.”
She relayed the office incident in a low voice, not surprised when he burst into laughter. Milo loved nothing better than seeing just desserts served.
“How many times did I tell you to ditch that skinny bitch?”
“Milo.” She stared down at her empty plate, temped to lick it clean. Figuring her fastidious cousin would frown at that, she sighed and guzzled her beer instead.
“Well, I did. You should never trust anyone who works so little to be beautiful. Except for me, of course.”
“Of course,” she said dryly. “So is Philippe still around? Or have you found yourself a new sugar daddy?”
“First of all, Philippe is younger than me. No daddy anything going on there.”
“He’s rich.”
“And hot, but he’s going back to Spain tomorrow. We’re just friends.”
“You’re always just friends.”
He raised a brow. “You’re kidding, right? You’re the queen of uncommitted. Don’t even try lecturi
ng me about relationships.”
“So? I’m choosy.”
“You’re a Puritan in bad heels.”
“Hey.”
“Well, they are. Payless is not a shoe-shopping option, sweetness. You’re a big girl now. Drop the Buster Browns.”
“Asshole.”
He chuckled. “Seriously though. Are you planning to make a play for Peter? Especially now that you know he’s so…well-endowed?” He wiggled his brows.
“No.” She wished she could drum up her previous enthusiasm. But knowing he was Lauren-leavings killed what little she’d had of a sexual appetite. Back to born-again-virgin territory.
“You need a little excitement.”
“I know. But I just don’t feel it. Not for anyone. Peter was a tingle of maybe, and now he’s tainted.”
“By the office gang-bangee. Love how you added that part.” Milo wiped away a pretend tear. “Poor, poor Lauren.”
They both chuckled. “I should feel worse about what I did. But I don’t. I never do things like that.”
“Past time you started, I’m thinking. You’re always so afraid that if you take the lid off what makes you special—” her talent “—you’ll ruin life as we know it.”
“But I did ruin her career. I think. What if I’m a touch evil? Like Grannie Betty once told me?”
“First of all, Betty was a drunk and an empath, which makes for a bad combination all together. And secondly, a touch evil?” He cackled, doing his best impression of a witch. “Honey, you’re darkness personified. I mean, dark hair, dark eyes, dark soul.” His eyes twinkled. “But you’re so much fun when you let loose and let the world see the real you. I don’t mind going along for the ride.”
“Along where? This bar is as exciting as I get. I’m boring personified.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.”
They both glanced up at that low voice, and it took Ella a moment to catch her breath. Had she thought she was dead below the waist?
“I don’t suppose you’re gay?” Milo asked bluntly.
Please say no. Please say no. Please say no.