by Cara Carnes
“Tell me, Sophia, how does this power work? I’ve never touched air strands. Perhaps we should work on refining my skills.” Macy tugged tighter on the reigns, careful to keep the air around herself rich in oxygen.
“You are a dragon witch,” she gasped from air-starved lungs. “Air is mine.”
Macy shrugged and released the strands. Oxygen rushed forth, funneling itself to the deprived air witch with fury. Sophia stumbled backward from the power return.
“You are dead, dragon witch.”
“So I’ve been told.” Macy focused her gaze on Dmitri. “He has agreed to a service of six weeks.” She longed to say eight, but her luck was being pressed making the statement. If he argued she could be locked in chains in the cell next door. Imprisoning a vampire falsely was a death sentence. “Make yourself useful and have the contract drawn up. In exchange for six weeks of service, I offer him a blood oath for that duration.”
Sophia gasped. “You cannot feed your power to him. He’s too powerful. Think of the consequences.”
“It will hardly matter to me,” she replied nonchalantly as she made her way to Dmitri and zipped his pants up around his flaccid cock. He must not care for air witches. “The contract. Get it before I get upset. I have things to do tonight, and none of them include dealing with hex trash like you.”
****
So, the dragon witch was cursed. He’d have to research the curse Sophia had alluded to. Understanding the dragon witch’s reasoning would help him deal with her. Sensation returned to his muscles when the guards released the manacles securing him. The petite bundle of long black locks, hazel eyes, and cinnamon skin swept her way into the corner, one filled with fire sconces along the wall.
Whoever she was, she knew not to press her luck. He grudgingly admired the courage she’d shown with the air bitch. Between Sophia and Hilda, his cock had been drained more times in the past day than it had in decades because, despite the growing rumors, he didn’t make a habit of bedding cursed witches.
Or any witch for that matter.
Dmitri made it a habit to understand the rudimentary basics of witch politics. Any vampire foolish enough to remain within the charmed sectors of Seattle had better know the risks the lavish lifestyle created.
Dragon witches weren’t real, or so he’d been told. Yet her blood singed his fangs with its sensual scent from across the room. Feeding from her would be a high like no other.
“What is your name, dragon witch?”
“Why do you require a name?”
“I will know who is under me, screaming my name.” His hand swept to her cheek when he approached her. “Give me a name.”
“Macy Davenport.”
Her throat moved, as if a knot traveled the narrow tunnel, between her ample, barely-contained breasts to her curvaceous belly. She was short in stature, but full in all other ways, including the robust, vibrant emotional aura she channeled. Anticipation threaded with nervousness and wove a perilous beginning for the dragon witch where he was concerned.
Abiding by her contract served his purpose. Exposing his true nature and intent this early would destroy months of investigation. For tonight he’d be the legend created by his organization. Tonight he’d become Doctor Death and sate the desires running rampant within the gorgeous dragon witch.
Once Macy passed out from her spent passion and drained powers, he’d begin his investigation—the one which had gotten halted too quickly thanks to foolish work by his former partner. Too many relied on his discoveries. Too many vampires had vanished for him to fail.
There was a vampire slave ring somewhere in Seattle, and he suspected Sophia and Hilda were in the thick of it. But he’d not considered the presence of a dragon witch. Macy could be more trouble than he’d planned.
Hopefully, the bundle of passion would remain complacent as long as he abided by his contract and fucked her senseless. If she proved troublesome, he’d have to destroy her.
Chapter Two
“We should’ve brought my car.”
“That thing is not a car. It is a death trap.”
Macy whirled, tossed her purse on her orange sofa, and grinned. “Don’t tell me. You’re too sophisticated for a Fiesta.”
“I’m too big for an oversized sardine can on wheels.” His obsidian gaze whizzed around the room. “Let us end this discussion with my confession: I do not care for confined spaces.”
Macy could appreciate that. She wasn’t fond of heights, and Goddesses help the first fool who confined her. Shock riddled her voiceless for a few moments. He was here, in her house. Hers for six weeks. Her toes almost curled at the thought.
“Do you want something to eat?”
His dark eyebrows shot up, a wicked grin spread on his face. “I thought you’d never ask.”
Oh no! She didn’t just offer her vein two minutes into their agreement. She grimaced and shook her head. A soft chuckle wrapped her in fiery heat. Warm hands enveloped her waist and drew her near.
They stumbled backward onto her couch. Husky, male pleasure echoed in her ear. “Straddle my lap, Macy.”
Her back bowed with the command.
“You agreed I’d be in charge, dragon witch. Do as I say.” Adrenaline surged with the heeded warning he added. “I’d hate to spank you this soon.”
“I’m an adult.”
“You definitely are.” Masculine appreciation drifted within his aura, his hands forced her thighs to straddle him. He snuggled her closer until her knees knocked against the sofa to each side of him and her pussy rubbed against a denim bulge.
Power surged through her fingertips, sizzling across the small space to his heated skin. He absorbed the zing of sensation with no response except for a slight pause. “And that was?”
“A side effect of the curse.”
“You never mentioned hazard pay.” He settled her hand across his chest. “Perhaps we should renegotiate our terms.”
“Surely the mighty Doctor Death can handle me.”
“Dmitri.” Hot breath trailed across her shoulder. Deft fingers undid the bodice ties along her back. “Tell me of your curse, dragon witch.”
“My mother refused a marriage offer.” Pain seized her insides. “Ten thousand nights of no contact with humans or warlocks.”
“It’s a genetic curse.”
She nodded, focusing on the warmth of his skin against her palm. “Until the sentence has been carried out.”
“She died.”
“By her own hand,” Macy whispered. “Few witches survive once they hit their thirtieth birthday if they were infected because they’d yet to come into their full powers.”
“It affects your powers.”
Heat rose in her cheeks. “There are very few ways to release the buildup of our magic.”
“Sex is the most natural.”
She nodded. “Without that outlet…”
“So a vampire is the solution.” His gaze narrowed. “Most of my kind couldn’t handle the power a dragon witch would wield.”
“Thus the reason for my visit,” she confessed. “I’ve been assured there will be no ill side effects for you. I did ask.”
He swept the bodice away from her. Pleasure streamed down her spine with his soft strokes. She battled the need to cover her exposed breasts. Closing her eyes, she chanted a soft prayer for calm.
“When did this curse become yours to bear?”
“I was twelve when it struck full-force. My mother died when I turned ten.” Macy swallowed. “I didn’t understand the side effects at first and was pretty stupid.”
“Someone was harmed.”
“My guardian was near. Otherwise the boy would’ve died.” Haunted by the shame, she folded her arms to conceal her breasts. “It’s when my seclusion began.”
His hand massaged her arm and tugged on her wrist. “Don’t hide from me, Macy.”
Unsure what to say, she remained mute, locked in a battle of wills she’d never fought. Tingles travelled her arm then swept up
her shoulder. She closed her eyes and savored the sensuous glide of another’s touch.
“No man has touched you.”
“You’re too astute.”
“That bothers you.” He cupped her breast, bursts of pleasure rippled through her. “Rest assured, every inch of you will be touched tonight.”
He cupped her chin and dragged her face closer, until her breath mingled with his. Grey eyes studied, as if sensing the indecision keeping her still under his ministrations. What if she couldn’t handle the sensuous overload? Would she hurt him? Would he take too much blood?
“You think too much, little dragon.”
“How do you know what I think?”
He touched her temple. “I call them thinking lines.”
Great. She was wrinkling already. The thick hair ran through her fingers like velvet when she reached up to touch his temple, like he had hers. “You must not be thinking much.”
“I’m afraid I can think of only two things,” he whispered, his arm caging her within his fiery grasp.
Her throat seized, her heart choked. “What’s that?”
“Whether your lips taste as good as your blood smells.” Breath feathered across her mouth. He held her nape firmly, forcing her to remain where he positioned her. “Don’t you want to know what the second thing is?”
No. Macy allowed a plaintive moan to drift from her parted lips. “I’d rather you show me.”
Dmitri growled. His mouth grazed hers, a hungered warning of the predator’s intentions. The second taste heightened her senses and left her clinging for support as the power war began within her. Fire fanned her senses, surged past her defenses and battered its way from her fingertips.
Concern spurred her from the embrace melding her against him. Her body tingled with need. Strong arms drew her back. His mouth slanted across hers, challenging her will to remain aloof.
She followed his lead, tasting him. He leaned forward and shrugged out of the vest keeping his glorious chest from her full view. Massaging the sinewy flesh, she placed a hesitant kiss at the base of his throat, lapped at the hot pulse. She hadn’t expected him to have one.
Pleasure streamed excess power into each lap of her tongue, each sweep of her fingers across his willing flesh. Warm hands tweaked her nipples into fiery, bundled nerves. She’d explode with the intensity.
He lifted her up until her nipple was poised before his mouth. A groan escaped her, enveloping heat sealed around an aching bud.
Teeth grazed the sensitive surface, forcing her to writhe against the onslaught. She ran her hands through his thick hair and pulled him closer, longing for more, but she couldn’t express what.
A growl punctured her heady bubble of desire. “You’d better be half dead to be here.” Dmitri licked a slight abrasion he’d left on the swell of her breast and drew her close, until her chest pressed against his.
Someone was here.
The thought sent her oversexed powers into motion. Light bulbs shattered, her glass door crackled. Flames flickered to life in her bare fireplace. Damn.
She forced the haze clouding her senses aside and blinked when she turned her head. A smug grin spread across otherwise rugged features. Molten chocolate eyes glazed with silver swept across her. Wavy, cinnamon hair fell in disarray, brushing onto broad, bare shoulders.
Why couldn’t vampires afford shirts? Dang, she sensed another list for things to ask vampires.
The thought was met with a bark of laughter. “She’s a handful I bet,” the stranger whispered.
“What are you doing here, Alonzo?”
“Well, I thought I was saving you from a fate worse than death. But I suspect bedding this particular witch isn’t a bad thing. Tell me if it is, and I’ll gladly take your place.”
Dmitri expelled a breath and kissed her forehead. Frustration of a different kind fluttered in Macy’s stomach and pooled between her legs. Dread floundered in her sea of confusion.
“How did you find my place?” she asked.
“I found him. There’s a difference.” Alonzo made himself comfortable on her wicker chair, chucking the sunshine yellow pillow onto the floor. “This place is rather…homely.”
“A recluse’s income is rather limited.” She glowered at the intruder, then at Dmitri. “Should I turn him into something?”
Dmitri chuckled and pushed one of her arms into his vest. Did he really think it would cover much of her? She squirmed her way into it, too cognizant of Alonzo’s gaze. “Next time, little dragon. Next time you can do whatever you want to him.”
“Holy shit. That’s why her aura is so fiery. I thought they didn’t exist.”
How rude. Why hadn’t anyone else mentioned her fiery aura? “Wait. How do vampires read auras anyway?”
“Alonzo is a bit strange.”
“Unique.” Alonzo ran his fingers across the wicker chair. “Your hunger is palpable enough to make me feel bad for interrupting.”
“Dragon Witch 101, Lesson One, vampire. You don’t talk about our auras and never mess with our shields. It’s rude.”
“She’s a spitfire,” Alonzo commented.
Macy climbed off Dmitri’s lap and wrapped her arms around her waist. The vest peeked open at the top, spilling an ample amount of her breast through the material. So much for proper coverage. She moved toward the bedroom but Dmitri’s words halted her.
“Don’t.” He ran a hand across her back and urged her down onto the sofa. “He won’t be long, and I intend to fuck you the moment he leaves.”
Alonzo chuckled. “Ever the seduction artist, Dmitri.”
“Why are you here?”
He shrugged and focused a contemplative gaze on Macy. “Is she vetted into this?”
“No.” Dmitri settled his elbows on his knees. “I’m afraid there’s no other choice now. Everything’s gone to shit.”
“Woah. Back up. What are you two talking about?” She looked between them. “Well?”
“I was sent by the vampire king to look into an increase of missing vampires from this region.” Dmitri wiped his face.
“The king suspects witches of running an underground slavery ring,” Alonzo added.
“He didn’t express his concerns with the Imperial Station about this? Surely they would’ve helped your investigation. Silence clung to the doubts creeping into her aura. “They are the investigation.”
Dmitri nodded. “It was believed there had been such an influx of fledgling vampires that the slave ring would require more ancient meat to market. A few well-placed whispers in the right corners and Doctor Death was created.”
“And so the fact became legend.” Alonzo chuckled. “Imperial talons struck quickly, even more so than we’d anticipated.”
Macy sat back, stunned at the scene unfolding. She’d walked straight into a covert war between the vampires and her kind. She gulped as dregs of what-ifs sloshed around. “And I screwed it up because you were exactly where you needed to be.”
Dmitri remained expressionless. Alonzo’s grin faded. “The original plan was flawed, too high level to have ever worked. This ring goes much deeper than we’d anticipated.”
“How so?” she asked.
Butt out while you still have an ass to back up. Remember that little curse you need to lift? Yeah, that should be the only thing you think about.
“We expected to find one Imperial Station representative controlling the ring, but Dmitri’s imprisonment proves there’s more than one responsible.”
It took a majority vote of the Witch’s Council to hold an ancient vampire at Imperial Station. Macy processed the information, ferreting out possibilities and discarding conjecture. “Did your king receive the manifesto declaring your guilt? Was it signed?”
Alonzo shook his head. “He’s demanded one, but given the timing, it will likely take several weeks to get. By then Dmitri will be pawned off to the highest bidder.”
The upcoming Samhain festival would plunge the political realm into a slow crawl. “The festiva
l is the perfect backdrop for a mass of potential buyers.”
“Like we said, the initial plan was flawed,” Dmitri stated. “Our advisors didn’t take certain witchly things into consideration.”
“Obviously,” she stated. “How many are missing?”
“It’s hard to say for sure since most of the ones missing are fledglings,” Alonzo stated. “Not all makers file the proper paperwork to claim a newly turned vampire. It’s quite ugly at times.”
“We’ve received missing reports on twenty-two.” Dmitri tossed an ugly glare toward him.
“Twenty-three,” Alonzo corrected. “A female was taken from her sister’s home. Vanessa’s recently turned sister.”
Dmitri cursed.
“You knew her.” Jealousy reared in her. Why did the realization he had an entirely unknown life bother her?
“Vanessa is the king’s younger brother’s mate.” His jaw twitched. “When royal blood is spilled, it will mean war.”
“Civil unrest would destroy us all.”
Alonzo nodded. “Thus my unannounced visit. We need to get this derailed car of shit back on track.”
“We will discuss this situation when I get Macy settled into bed.” Dmitri rose.
“Whoa, back up, bucko.” She shook a finger at him when he neared her. “I’m not a child you tuck into bed. You just told me your king intends to declare war against my race if this situation isn’t resolved. I may not be the biggest fan of Imperial Station, but when it functions properly our judicial system is the only thing holding my race together.”
She glared at both of the silent men and crossed her arms. “If you think you can give me a belly full of warm cookies and milk and I’ll crawl into an empty bed while you two vampires try to save my race, you’re high on bad blood.”
“This doesn’t concern you.” Alonzo’s distended fangs lisped his words with a clear warning. Stay the hell out of it.
“Something you should learn about dragon witches, vampire,” she stood and pulled on the strands of power near Alonzo. They wrapped around him, fiery licks of unseen heat. “We don’t respond kindly to threats.”