by Shéa MacLeod
I snorted. “American Dragon Liaison? Are you kidding me?”
He shrugged. “Granted, I haven’t had anything to do until now, but the US government has always had an official liaison. Just in case.”
I blew out a deep breath. “Well, I guess ‘just in case’ finally happened. I suppose you want to blow the dragons to bits, too. Never mind what the evidence says.”
“No, Morgan.” Trevor shook his head. He placed his hand over mine, his mocha skin rich against the pale alabaster of my own. He had broad, strong hands. They reminded me of my father, the pictures I’d seen of him.
I jerked my hand away. “Isn’t that what all you bureaucratic types like to do? Shoot first, ask questions later.”
He laughed at that. “I think you’ve got me mixed up with the military.” He leaned forward again, eyes intense. “I promise you, Morgan. I will do this right. I will not rest until I find the truth. I will make my decision based on facts, not fear or ignorance.”
I believed him. Somehow I believed him.
“Morgan.” Jack spoke for the first time, his voice a little more gravelly than I remembered but no less sexy. “We need to talk.” He held out his hand.
I hesitated. There was so much that was screwed up between us and I couldn’t help that deep down I felt hurt. Rejected.
I reluctantly placed my hand in his and the electricity went zinging up and down my spine. Just like always. The chemistry between us hadn’t changed no matter how Jack tried to hide it. Bloody stubborn man.
I followed him out of the pub while Kabita and Trevor remained, chatting in low voices. I imagined they were discussing the case and our role in it. I hoped I wasn’t being an idiot trusting Trevor Daly. If he screwed me over, there’d be hell to pay.
Chapter Twelve
“Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving?” Jack’s voice was quiet, calm, but I could hear something else simmering underneath. I wasn’t sure if it was hurt or anger. Maybe a little of both. Not that I cared much. He’d hurt me plenty.
“There wasn’t time.” I dodged a tourist snapping a picture of some random building. Honestly, sometimes I really wished I had a cattle prod.
Jack gave me a look that said he didn’t buy my excuse.
“Fine.” I heaved a sigh. “I knew you’d freak out and I didn’t want to deal with it.”
“Freak out?” His voice was mild, but he didn’t fool me.
“You know what I mean. You’d give me some lecture on how you couldn’t protect me if I went traipsing off into the wilds of London, yada yada. I can protect myself, you know. I’m a Hunter, for crying out loud.”
He smiled at that. “You know me well.”
“Not as well as I’d like to.” Crap. Did I say that out loud?
“Morgan.” It was his turn to sigh.
“I’m sorry Jack.” I stopped in the middle of the pavement just like a bloody tourist and propped my fists on my hips. “I just don’t get it. One minute you’re on me like white on rice and the next I’m untouchable. All because of a piece of jewelry. You really know how to make a girl feel good.”
His features were tight, every inch of him strung taut with frustration. “I’ve told you Morgan. It’s my duty ... ”
“Fuck your duty.”
The shock on his face was priceless.
“You’ve given, what, nine hundred years of your life to duty? To protecting the amulet. To some dream of a Royal Bloodline and saving Atlantis and whatever else comes with the territory. Hell, I don’t even know what it is you think you’re going to do with that thing. I think it’s time you do something for yourself for a change.”
For us.
“You should at least have brought the amulet with you,” he said, completely ignoring the point.
“You’re trying to change the subject, Jack. It isn’t going to work.” I turned on my heel and marched down the street, fury strumming through me. Gods, the man could piss me off like nobody else.
The guards in front of the American Embassy gave me leery looks as though they half expected me to go ballistic at any minute. The thought almost made me laugh. Almost. I kept walking.
Jack finally caught up to me. “I am not going to discuss this with you Morgan,” he said, jaw clenched. “You know what I must do. I will not shirk my duty.”
I rolled my eyes. “Good lord. You’d think we were still in the Dark Ages. Fine, you don’t want to talk about it, I’ll give you a pass. For now. But we will talk about it. Soon.”
He said nothing to that. I shrugged. A girl could only do so much. “As for the amulet, it doesn’t go with my wardrobe.”
“Morgan Bailey.” His voice was practically a growl.
“Listen, I am not walking around with some big clunky thing on my neck. Especially some big clunky thing that turns me into a supernatural superconductor. I have enough problems in my life as it is.”
“Eddie told me.”
My breath came out in a hiss. “I told Eddie not to tell you.” I glared at another tourist and she scrambled out of the way like I’d pointed a gun at her. Maybe I didn’t need a cattle prod, after all.
“Eddie decided that you setting a door on fire was something I needed to know about.” He led me across the road to Hyde Park and down one of the tree lined paths. It was nearly dark, but there were still plenty of people about.
“I would have told you.”
“When?”
I shrugged. “Eventually.”
“Morgan.” His voice was filled with frustration. “This is not something to mess with. It’s dangerous. You could die.” His voice seemed to catch a little on that last part.
“I know that. Don’t you think I know that? But what can I do? This amulet of yours has decided it wants to download all these stupid abilities into me and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.”
“Morgan ... ”
“Listen, I don’t want to talk about it right now.” My turn to be uncooperative. “Unless you have something useful to tell me like what this new ability or whatever is, or how to get rid of it?”
Silence.
“Fine. I’m done talking about it. When you decide you’re ready to talk about us, then I’ll talk about this. Maybe.”
He shoved his hands in his jeans pockets and shook his head, frustration in every line of his body. I knew I was driving him insane and part of me was glad. After all, he’d been driving me crazy for months with his stupid duty and honor stuff.
“Kabita told me about Sandra.”
Goodie. Subject change.
“Yeah. She seems to know an awful lot about dragons. And then there’s her ability. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Can she turn objects into anything other than dragons?” he asked.
“No. Just dragons.”
“Interesting. She may be a Dragon Child.”
I stopped dead in the middle of the footpath. “A what?”
“They’re rare. I’ve only met one before and that was nearly five hundred years ago. You know how you have an affinity with vampires?”
“Uh, yeah. If by affinity you mean I can track and kill them better than normal people.”
“Dragon Children are human children born with an affinity with dragons. Unlike Hunters, they are born of peace, not violence. In ancient times, before they disappeared from history, the dragons often used Dragon Children as go-betweens with humans.”
I frowned at the thought of being born of violence. In my case, it had been more like being reborn in violence. Then another thought struck me. “I thought the dragons just wanted to eat us?”
He laughed, but it wasn’t an amused laugh. “I bet Alister Jones told you that.”
“Yeah. You know him?”
“We’ve met.” His tone didn’t invite further questioning. It wasn’t important, so I didn’t press.
“You think Sandra Fuentes is one of these Dragon Children?” I asked.
“Yes, I do. It would explain the way her magic manifests, the reas
on she can manipulate objects, but only in a very specific way.”
“It would also explain her rather passionate defense of the dragons. She doesn’t think they murdered Alison any more than I do.” I continued down the path, Jack following suit.
“I believe she is correct. A Dragon Child may be a soul of peace, but she would never lie to protect the guilty. It would not be in her nature.”
“You seem very sure of that,” I said.
“As I said, I’ve met a Dragon Child before.” Again, his tone implied he wasn’t interested in talking about it. I imagined that after nine hundred years he held a lot of secrets and Jack wasn’t the type of man to give up his secrets easily. A fact which frustrated me no end.
“So, Alister lied about the dragons. About them killing everyone.”
“Let’s just say that it’s in Alister’s best interest to blur the lines of truth.”
I nodded. “Yeah, I get that about him. Sort of like the whole thing with him and his ancestors and Witches.”
“Yes, something like that.”
“OK.” I stopped again, this time at a fork in the path. “I’m heading back to my hotel. Alone. I need time to think.”
“Morgan ... ” he started, but I cut him off.
“Hyde Park is perfectly safe.” He looked doubtful so I reached out and gave his shoulder a little squeeze. “Stop worrying Jack. I’ll be fine.”
After a moment he nodded reluctantly. “I’ll head back to the pub. Trevor has made the arrangements for our stay. I’ll see you tomorrow?” There was just a hint of something in his voice that gave me hope. Maybe he wasn’t quite the unmoveable rock he seemed.
“Fine.” I stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek, inhaling the scent of him. It had been too long since I touched him, tasted him. I drew back before I ended up a puddle of jelly. “See you tomorrow.” I turned my back and headed across the park.
***
As I strolled through the park, enjoying the cold night air, my phone chimed indicating a text message. I pulled my phone out. It was from Kabita.
Ben Landry. Alison’s co-worker. Meeting tomorrow 10am.
I sent her a text back. OK. C U at breakfast. Kabita never used text speak and she hated it when I did. Not that it stopped me.
I wondered just exactly what Ben and Alison’s relationship had been. Had he told her he loved her? Had she loved him back? I wasn’t sure which was worse, losing the person you loved, or having them there in front of you but totally unreachable.
Not that I was in love with Jack of course. It was just a hormone thing. Honest. Besides, he hadn’t given me a chance.
It was then I caught the scent. That same scent that had been taunting me for days, but this time that tingling in the back of my skull came with it. The vampire was close.
I took off at a dead run, following the scent trail that grew stronger with every footstep. He was close, really close.
And then what felt like a Mack truck hit me in the side and sent me tumbling across the grass until I landed in a breathless heap. I staggered to my feet, the stench of vampire drowning out everything else. This time, though, I could smell the reek of a second vamp underneath the original scent trail. Something hinky was definitely going on.
The shadows shifted as I scanned the park. I could barely make out the dim shape of what had to be the vampire.
I slipped out my knife. I was going to have to get in close without getting myself killed. I didn’t have my larger weapons with me and I was loath to use the Darkness again so soon.
I braced myself as the vamp stepped closer and a shaft of moonlight lit his face. It was not what I expected to see. “You’re not the one. You didn’t kill me.”
“Maybe not,” he snarled, putrid breath hitting me full in the face. “But I’m going to kill you now.”
He lunged into me, grabbing me around the throat and throwing me to the ground. There was no way I could stab him through the chest in this position, so I went for the kidneys. Contrary to popular belief, you didn’t need to stab a vamp through the heart. Technically massive blood loss could do it, though it usually wasn’t fast enough.
The knife went through his back, slicing tissue and muscle and sliding into organs, the silver tip burning him like acid. Cold blood spilled over my hand. The vamp screamed loud enough to make my ears ring.
I ripped the knife back out, causing as much damage as I could on the way through. Then as the vamp reared back I sliced backward across his throat. More blood cascaded from the wound, drenching me. I turned my face to avoid getting the vile stuff in my mouth.
I twisted, heaving the dying vamp off me. I knelt on him, the tip of the blade over his heart. “Who sent you?” I hissed at him.
Underneath his own scent, I could still smell the scent of the vampire that killed me. His jacket looked lumpy so I fished around and pulled out a dirty old T-shirt. It stank of vampire. Not this dying vampire, but the one I was looking for.
“Where is he?” I thrust the T-shirt under his nose. “Where is he?”
He laughed, blood burbling out of the neck wound. “You will never find him.”
“Tell me and I’ll end you quickly.”
“Go to hell.” It came out more as a gurgle, but I got the message.
With a grin, I thrust the knife home. “You first.”
Chapter Thirteen
Fortunately I wasn’t far from the hotel, so I didn’t need the tube. I could only imagine what would happen if I walked into the tube station covered in blood. I avoided taking a taxi for the same reason. Unfortunately, I couldn’t avoid Francois, the hotel concierge.
“Oh, my, my,” he gasped in his heavy French accent, “Mademoiselle Bailey! What has happened to you? You are all over blood!” He rushed across the lobby of the hotel exuding distress and flapping his hands wildly. Well, rushed might be overstating it. It was more like he minced swiftly.
“I’m fine, Francois. There was an accident, but ... ”
A string of French interrupted me, accompanied by more wild hand gestures. To say Francois was flamboyant was an understatement. “Mademoiselle Bailey, I am the manager of this hotel! What has happened, it is a travesty! Something must be done! This is no good! I will take care of everything!” Every word was punctuated with exclamation. I swear the man made me exhausted just watching him.
“I thought you were the concierge.”
“Pardon?”
“The concierge.”
“Well.” He clapped his hands together and looked grim. “That is true. I was concierge. But now I am night manager!”
Huh. I wondered when that had happened. Who in their right mind decided to give Francois that kind of responsibility? The thought made me shudder. He was lovely, but completely mad. “Right. Well, I sort of need to go get cleaned up.”
“But of course, of course.” He shooed me toward the elevator. “You must clean up right away! If there is anything you need, anything at all, I am here. For you.” He clasped his hands together dramatically.
“Thanks. I’ll remember that.” Fortunately the elevator doors slid shut before he could get any more carried away.
As soon as I got in my room, I stripped off my clothes. Most likely ruined, though I hoped the jacket could be saved.
I had just stepped out of the shower when someone knocked on my door. I frowned and grabbed my towel. Most likely Francois with a fruit basket or some such ridiculous thing. I wouldn’t mind a bottle of alcohol, though.
It wasn’t Francois.
“Morgan.” Jack stood on the other side of the door, his long lean body looking way more tasty than it should. Gods, what I’d give to nibble on those luscious lips of his. I gave my libido a mental bitch slap.
Jack must have read something of what I was thinking, because his ocean colored eyes grew dark and hooded and his tongue darted out to flick against his lips. I bit back a groan.
“It’s late. Can’t this wait until morning?”
He ran a hand through his thick
hair. It was a little longer than I remembered. I wondered if he was growing it out. Knowing Jack, he probably just forgot to get it cut.
“No it can’t. We need to talk. Now.”
I frowned. I hated it when he got all bossy, but I was too tired to argue so I stood back and waved him in.
“I’ve missed you, Morgan.”
I froze in place for half a second, eyes closed, before blowing out a breath and slowly turning to face him. I admit I’d been conflicted, was still conflicted. What had happened between us, and then his reaction. The whole, “I’m a holy warrior with a sacred duty so I can’t fuck you” shit. It so didn’t go down with me. Especially since it was rather like closing the barn door behind the horse.
Then there was Inigo. Hardly more than a boy, really, but he made me burn in ways that would make a hooker blush.
“Your choice, Jack. You’re the one who’s so hell bent on placing your duty above anything we could have together.”
“Maybe I’ve changed my mind.” His voice was so low I wasn’t sure I’d heard him.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me. Screw duty. You’re right. It’s been over 900 years. It’s time for a change.” He reached out and snagged my towel. It fell to the floor leaving me standing in front of him naked and feeling more than a little vulnerable.
“Jack ... ” I wanted to believe him. I did. Fool me once and all that.
“Shh.” He placed his finger over my lips. “Just let me look at you.” His eyes traveled my body. I watched him harden. He sucked in a breath. “You are a wonder, Morgan Bailey.”
It wasn’t the first time he’d told me that. I felt my own body grow languid and full, heat pooling between my thighs. Whatever had gone on between us, I wanted him. I always wanted him.
I held out my hand and he came, bent his head and kissed me. His tongue swirled through my mouth, tasting of spice and musk and man. Of Jack.
He groaned as I slid my hand along his chest, down over his stomach until it rested over the thick erection straining at his jeans. I smiled against his mouth. I knew in that moment I held all the power. I admit I liked it.