She might have taken that as an invitation if he hadn’t sounded so sleepy. She felt safe telling him at least part of her fear. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
“Ditto.” He snuggled down into the bedding, nearly asleep. “I’m a lover, not a fighter.”
She snorted another laugh. “Go to sleep, Jethro.”
“Mm. Akane.” And with that, his breathing evened out, her name a soft sigh on his lips.
She gingerly lifted her hands from his skin, unwilling to wake him now that he was finally asleep. “I’m in big trouble.” She couldn’t stop herself. She curled up next to him, her body heat high for her chilled man, and guarded her greatest treasure as he slept.
Something warm was cuddled up to his back. Shane could feel the heat pouring off the animal and sighed. Sal had crawled into bed with him once again. How the salamander managed to get into his studio he’d never know, but it wasn’t the first time and he doubted it would be the last. “Fucking animal.”
The bed shifted, and Sal leaned over him, panting heavily. “Woof.”
Shane froze. He opened his eyes to find the kind of tongue he wouldn’t mind having all over him lolling out of a mouth he was already addicted to. The heat had been Akane, not the salamander. “Good morning, a ghrá.”
Akane sat back, looking astonishingly prim despite her tangled curls. “What does that mean?”
Shane stretched all over, curling his toes in pleasure. It was nice feeling, waking up to the woman of your dreams. “What do you think it means?” He stared up at her, daring her to admit she already had the answer.
Her brow furrowed. “I have no clue. I’m a New Yorker, remember?”
He chuckled. “In that case, do you really want the answer?”
She opened her mouth, but something about the look on his face must have stopped her from giving the automatic response she’d intended. “I don’t know. Do I?”
He cupped her cheek, running his thumb across those kissable lips. “If I were you, I would.”
One brow rose arrogantly. “Good thing I’m not you.”
He pulled her down for a good-morning kiss, enjoying the cinnamon and spice taste that exploded on his tongue. God, the woman tasted incredible. “Good morning.” He let go and waited for her to run for it.
She cleared her throat, her expression dazed. “Um. Yeah.” She shivered delicately. “I have to go to work.”
She started to crawl out of bed and Shane bit back a grin. “Break some legs.”
She paused. “You did not just say that.”
“What?” He grabbed hold of her wrist, feeling the rapid beat of her heart through the delicate skin.
She shook her head and pulled on her arm half-heartedly. She was learning. “Seriously. Ruby’s in danger. I have work to do, damn it.”
He’d expected more rage from her, but her protest was weak, her tone more thoughtful than pissed. “I would never endanger Ruby or try and stop you from working. You know that.”
“Do I?”
There was an old pain under her words, a wound he intended to lance before it festered any further. The first step was to let go of her wrist and settle back down under the covers. “If you tell me you need to work, then you go.” He leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to her jean-clad thigh. “Just remember to come home to me.” Shane put his head back down on the pillow and closed his eyes. There wasn’t much more he could do at this point in the game short of dragging her down and finishing the Claiming. If he did that, he’d break the fragile trust she’d given him the night before.
He was rewarded by the soft brush of her hand through his hair. “You’re a pain in my ass, you know that?”
The affection in the insult was unmistakable. Shane hid his glee behind a warm smile. “I try.”
She snorted a laugh. “Where will I be able to find you later?”
“Hither and yon.”
“Shane.”
He sighed. “If I’m not in my studio I’ll be around the farm, helping Dad.” He opened one eye and glared at her. “Did you erase my cell phone number again?”
Her big eyes widened, the innocent act lost on him. “It was an accident, I swear.”
He rattled off the number and waited for her to input it. “You call me if you need to find me. Even if I’m working I’ll answer.”
“I’m almost afraid to ask, but how will you know it’s me?”
He gestured vaguely toward the floor, his eyes still closed. “Dig my cell phone out of my jeans.” He waited until the cold plastic hit his palm before opening his eyes. He had to see the expression on her face for this one. “Now call me.”
She did, and when the ring tone sounded she shot off the bed like it had bitten her. “‘Puff the Magic Dragon’? You fucker!”
He started to laugh.
“That’s not fucking funny, Shane!” She began beating him with a pillow so hard the thing burst, sending feathers flying in the air. Still he laughed. “You son of a bitch.”
He couldn’t take her seriously when she was also on the verge of giggles. He rolled his eyes at her and pressed some buttons on his cell. “Fine. Try calling me now, you picky wench.”
She picked up her cell phone and dialed again, her brows rising in surprise. “Des’ree’s ‘You Gotta Be’?”
“Do you have an objection?” He sniffed, sneezing when feather fluff got up his nose. “I preferred ‘Puff’ myself.”
She was still biting back her giggles. “I’m terrified to know what Robin’s ring tone is.”
“‘Welcome to the Jungle’.”
She blinked. “Oddly appropriate.”
“We got fun and games.” He put his arms behind his head and smirked. “Wanna know Oberon’s?”
Akane’s jaw dropped. “You do not have Oberon’s cell number.”
“Oh?”
She tried to snatch his phone away but he put it under his pillow before she could. She sniffed. “I knew you were lying.”
His brows rose and he pulled his phone out. He held it up so she could clearly see the name and numbers listed.
“Holy shit.” Her butt hit the edge of the bed. “How did you get those numbers?”
He shrugged. “I did some artwork for the Gray Palace.”
Her shoulders slumped. “Of course you did.” She grabbed the phone out of his hand, choking when she read the name of the song he’d assigned as the High King’s the ring tone. “Bruce Springsteen’s ‘The Iceman’.” She cradled his cell in her hand, her gaze glued to his face. “Interesting choice.”
“Interesting man.” Shane could see the star of her left eye contract and expand. He hid his panic. He could just imagine what would happen if she snuck a peek at the High King. “I wouldn’t if I were you. If looking at Robin knocked you out for a week, what do you think checking out Oberon would do to you?”
“Damn it.” She flung his cell phone back on his bed and flopped back and across his legs. “Poo.”
He laughed softly. “Nobody lets you have any fun, huh?”
“Oh yeah. I haven’t killed a Black Court asshole in…” She held up one hand as if counting. “Days.”
“Gods above, a bored dragon. Whatever shall I do?”
She reached out and smacked him in the stomach. “Let me get to work, you sneaky bastard.”
“Hey now. My parents are married, thank you.”
Akane rolled her eyes and stood. Her hands swept through her hair, settling the black, curly mass around her. “Shane?”
“Hmm?” He was awake now, the visions gone, worked out in glass and metal the night before. He could use a cup of coffee and a taste of the woman standing at the end of the bed, idly playing with his footboard.
“Thanks. For my party.” She darted a quick glace from under her lashes. “Even if you ditched early.”
Pleasure curled through him, better than any sex he’d had with anyone else. He’d given her a taste of what life could be like if she accepted him, and she’d liked it. “You’r
e welcome.”
A shy smile darted across her face before she dashed from the room with an evil laugh. “Coffee’s all mine, Farm Boy!” The door slammed shut behind her with a bang, but not before she cried out “COLD!” The door opened and shut much quieter the second time. He assumed she’d reached back in and grabbed her coat.
Shane curled back up in bed and snickered. It would be better all around if he waited to make his way to the main house until after he could wipe away the smug smile on his face.
Akane caught Tristan’s attention with ease. The diner she’d gone to was near Henri Malmayne’s estate, so she wasn’t surprised to find that he wasn’t the only Malmayne Sidhe eating there. She was surprised to find that he had a number of what she was calling the Malmayne Malcontents with him.
Whispers had reached her ears that some of the Malmayne clan had begun asking questions about the Gray Court. Whether they’d made similar inquiries about alternate clans within the White she didn’t know, but found it an interesting development nonetheless. Most of the Malcontents seemed to be young, below a hundred years old and, surprisingly, each and every one appeared to defer to Tristan.
Fascinating.
Tristan finished up his business and waved away the posse of young Sidhe. He headed for her table with a smile. “Hello again.”
She gave him her most flirtatious smile. “Hello to you too, handsome.” She waved toward the empty seat across from her. “Care to join me?”
Behind her Etienne fidgeted on his pleather stool, their signal that he was aware the target had been hooked. Now all she had to do was reel him in.
She leaned forward, resting her chin on her palm, and studied him. He was gorgeous, she had to give him that, but he held none of the hot fire Shane did. This man would burn with cold flames much like his cousin Duncan did until someone came and warmed him from the outside. “We never did introduce ourselves.” She lifted her head and held out her hand. “Akane Russo.” They’d agreed she wouldn’t lie to him. If he’d seen her on that video he’d know who she was anyway.
He hesitated a moment before holding out his hand. Perhaps he hadn’t seen her after all. “Tristan Malmayne.” He gave her a puzzled frown. “May I ask why a Blade would still be in Nebraska?”
She grinned. “My partner is living here now, so I’m back for a visit.”
There was a flicker of something in his eyes that she didn’t quite catch before it was gone. “I see.”
The star in her iris widened as Akane opened her inner sight. She could see the power swirling around him and realized he was much older than he looked. Conflict swirled around him, some dark, some light, mingling at the center into gray. Figures danced within the mist, writhing and gesturing, anger and confusion rampant. “Jaden Blackthorn. I’m sure you’ve heard of him.”
He leaned back in his chair, his expression closed. “You did roll me last night, didn’t you?”
Crap. She put her palm to her chest. “Do I look like a Sidhe?” She allowed a brief puff of smoke to exit her nostrils, enough that he caught it but not enough to get in trouble with the very human wait staff.
His lips slowly curved up in a smile. “A dragon. I can’t remember the last time I met one of you.” His genuine delight dotted the gloomy mist around him with a happy silver and gold glitter. Some of the darkness around him receded, a figure of a man with glowing red eyes shoved out of the picture. “I’m going to make a wild guess and say your temperament is fiery?” She tried to focus on him while Tristan spoke, but the image faded too quickly for her to latch on to it.
“Good guess.” She studied the figures around him, noting faces, expressions, anything that might help protect the Dunnes.
He thanked the waitress for refilling his coffee cup and waited until she’d gone. “You seem different than the woman I saw on the video feed.”
“That was business.” She ran one finger down the back of his hand and batted her lashes. “This is pleasure.”
He relaxed a bit more but she could sense the tension still in him. “Nice to know you find my company a pleasure.”
She took a deep breath and prepared to lure her little fishy in. “Want to go some place private? Somewhere we can…talk?” She licked her lips, smiling when his gaze glued itself to her mouth.
“I’d love to, but unfortunately I have other plans.” He took hold of her hand. “However, if you would be willing to join me for dinner, I’d be more than willing to discuss…talking…further.” He pressed a kiss to her knuckles, an open invitation clear in his eyes.
Akane suppressed a shiver. She didn’t like his lips on her skin, the way his finger caressed her palm before letting her go. “It’s a date.”
She waved as he took his leave. What the fuck was wrong with her? She’d wanted to gag at the feel of Tristan’s mouth on her, his breath so close it stirred the fine hairs of her arm. Out of the corner of her eye she glimpsed Etienne leaving the restaurant. She’d wait about fifteen minutes before following him out. They couldn’t be seen together, not now that she’d hooked their fish.
Besides, there was still pie left on her plate.
Shane followed his father into the tack room and grabbed one of the leather harnesses that needed repairing. His father could move from one edge of his property to another in the blink of an eye, but Sean Dunne loved horses and rode them simply for the joy of it.
“Why haven’t you Claimed her yet?”
Shane studied the harness and gathered what he’d need to repair it. “She’s skittish.”
“Then you need to break her in.”
He shot his father a look before turning the harness in his hands. “She needs a gentle touch.”
“She needs to be ridden.”
Shane choked on thin air. “I am not discussing this with you.”
Sean Dunne frowned. “Why not?” The man could have easily been a model; at four-hundred-and-twenty-five years of age his Seeming still had the looks of a twenty-seven year old human, a gift from his bonding his Sidhe mate. His true appearance was even more stunning. When Sean Dunne allowed his inner leprechaun to show, those sapphire eyes glowed with power. His skin would show the brown whorls of his earthy heritage and his dark hair would grow, landing at shoulder length. The strength of the earth itself flowed in Shane’s father, and there was no one he admired more.
But he still wasn’t discussing his sex life with the man. “Leave it be, Da.”
“No. Not until you tell me why.”
“Because you’re my father.”
Sean snorted in disgust. “Please. Like I don’t know what that thing between your legs is begging you to do.”
“Da!” Leave it to an earth sprite to get…earthy. Shane pointed the tool he was using at his father and scowled. “Don’t make me call Ma.”
Sean grinned, completely unrepentant. “You need her. She needs you. Get her ass tipsy and topple her, boy.”
Shane was horrified. This was getting worse and worse. “Is that the advice you gave Leo?”
“Nope.”
“Why not?”
His father shot him a knowing look. “Because he’s not you.” Sean dropped the tack back on the scarred work table and took Shane’s face between his hands. “Leo is like your mother. Gentle, with a core of strength none can deny. Moira is more like me, willing to fight with all her strength for what’s right but able to turn around and admit when she’s wrong. And you?”
Shane took a deep breath at the look on his father’s face. “What about me?”
“You’re the best of us both.” His father leaned forward and whispered in his ear. “But don’t tell your sister I said that. I don’t think I could handle the puppy eyes.”
Shane closed his eyes and swallowed. “Thanks, Da.”
Sean released him and Shane opened his eyes. “She needs you, Shane. She needs us.”
“I know.” Shane leaned against the table. “Her life before us was cold.” He allowed the vision that had driven him to create Akane dance be
hind his eyes. “No room to fly, no place to be free.”
Sean scowled, the part that made him such an incredible father ready to defend his son’s mate against all comers. “Her mother didn’t abuse her, did she?”
Shane shook his head. “No, not really. She tried her best, but can anyone truly understand the needs of a young dragon but another dragon?” He’d slipped back into his mother’s native language, speaking to his father in the Sidhe tongue as they often did when trading secrets. “Her father died to keep the Seer safe, sacrificing himself so she could escape with an infant Akane.” Shane swallowed. He could only imagine the Seer’s devastation as she’d fled, knowing her mate’s fate, and her own. “She knew, Da. She knew when she met him what would happen and loved him anyway.”
“There’s strength in that.”
“Aye. And she’s done her best for Akane since, but even the Seer can’t see into her heart.”
“Can you?”
He sighed. “I’m trying.”
“Perhaps you see her better than most.”
Shane was pleased that he didn’t jump. He was equally pleased that his father did. It served him right after the discomfort of their previous discussion.
Only Robin Goodfellow could sneak up on a leprechaun on his own land. The bond between a leprechaun and the land he laid claim to was incredibly strong. Sean could sense every single person on it, hear whispers a mile away, open holes in the ground barely a pin wide that went all the way to the core of the earth. It took a minor deity to sneak up on him on a bad day.
Robin did it without even trying.
“Good day, Robin.”
The redheaded menace stepped into the tack room wearing the gaudiest western shirt Shane had ever seen. If he stepped into any straight bar in Nebraska every redneck for miles would try and kick his ass for that shirt alone. Add in the super tight jeans, the shiny alligator boots and the black cowboy hat with the purple-checked bandana for a band, and you had one fey-looking fae. “And good day to you, Shane Dunne.” Robin leaned against the door jamb, his arms crossed, one toe digging into the scratched wooden floor. “Akane giving you fits?”
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