From Jennifer Ashley, With Love: Three Paranormal Romances from Bestselling Series

by Jennifer Ashley

  He touched down with a whump, but when he leaned to lower me, again it was with every tenderness.

  I stood up, unkinking my stiff limbs and trying to catch my breath. Mick glided away into the darkness, shifted, and came walking back, my tall man replete with muscles and dragon tatts.

  “You okay?” he asked when he reached me.

  I handed him his clothes. “Dragon is not the most comfortable way to travel.”

  “Sorry.” Mick sounded sorry. “But we needed to get here fast.”

  “I know. Any sign of a runaway Nightwalker as we flew?” Not that I thought there would have been.

  “Didn’t see any,” Mick said.

  I started to walk toward the hotel, but Mick drew me back. One arm full of his clothes, he wrapped the other around me and kissed me on the mouth.

  His healing magic entered me through the kiss. My legs stopped trembling, and my stomach settled down.

  He released me, dressed, and we walked together back to the hotel.

  Cassandra was locking the doors for the night, though she planned to stay, not knowing how long I’d be absent. Pamela was there with her.

  “I don’t know where he went,” Cassandra said before I asked. “Even Elena couldn’t stop him. Ansel wasn’t blood frenzied, just determined.”

  Mick and I went downstairs to Ansel’s room to hunt for any clue to where he’d gone, but we came up with one big nothing. Nothing specific, anyway.

  Mick stood in the middle of the tidy chamber, his blue eyes taking in everything. “He’s gone to try to find Laura.”

  “I figured,” I said. “The dragons thought Ansel had Laura, and I bet Ansel thinks the dragons have her. If he breaks into the dragon compound . . .”

  “He hasn’t,” Mick said. “I would have heard.”

  “You mean he hasn’t yet.”

  “Colby will tell me the minute he shows up. They know Ansel’s under my protection, and that if they kill him, they have to mess with me.”

  “Doesn’t mean they won’t kill him and take their chances,” I said unhappily. “We need to find him.”

  “I’ll search. You need to rest and eat something.”

  “I had a sandwich before I went to Laura’s store.”

  Mick came to me. “And a fight with a bad-ass mage, who knocked you out and nearly killed you.” He looked down at me, the raw pain in his eyes erasing his habitual calm. Here was a man who felt deeply, with emotions I couldn’t begin to understand.

  He smoothed my hair with a hand that shook a little. “He could have killed you, Janet. He didn’t have to leave you alive. And I wouldn’t have been there to stop it.”

  “I was still walking the storm,” I said. “And he couldn’t have gotten past my Beneath magic in the end. He’s strong, but not my evil mother strong.”

  Mick exhaled, and at the end of it he pressed his lips to the top of my head. “You don’t get it, do you? It’s all I can do not to drag you out to my island and keep you there, safe from Nightwalkers, dragons, your goddess mother—from everyone who ever tried to hurt you. I want to so bad, it’s killing me not to.”

  “Is that your dragon instinct?” I asked. His eyes had gone black now, without a hint of blue, his hand resting against the side of my head, strength there but contained. “What would I do all day on your tropical island?”

  “Whatever the hell you wanted. I wouldn’t give a shit. You’d be safe.”

  “I’d be bored. Your island is nice, but I can only drink so many Mai Tais on the beach. I’d start hankering to see my dad, my friends, the Diné lands . . .”

  “And I wouldn’t care,” he said, his voice on the edge of a growl. “I fight against my instincts every day. I want to keep you safe, but I also want you to be happy. I know I can’t have both. So I hold back.” Mick put his other hand on the small of my back, grip firm, no holding back there. “I force myself to let you live in your world. I watch over you and work the wards on this hotel, but I know it’s not enough. Will never be enough. I can’t ever truly keep you safe out here, and I can’t explain to you how much I hate that.”

  My mouth opened as I listened. His words were grating, the dragon in him looking out from his black eyes.

  Mick had always been protective, but I’d had no idea he fought himself not to be as protective as he wanted to be. I knew that if he chose to sweep me up and keep me sequestered on his island, he could do it, and I’d have a hard time fighting him. He could have done it tonight.

  “I’m not good at being confined,” I said, my voice faint. “I never have been. I’d end up trying to kill you to get away.”

  “I know that. I also know I could stop you. I almost did before.”

  “That was different.” I put my hands on his chest. His heart was beating rapidly, the skin beneath his shirt hot. “You had me in a place where I couldn’t fight back.” In a cave full of scary petroglyphs that tried to feed off my boiling evil magic.

  “I know,” he said. “I manipulated you there, because I knew I’d have the advantage. I’d do the same thing again, this time to protect you. The only reason I don’t . . .” Mick stopped and drew a breath. “I don’t because . . . I love you.”

  His eyes switched to blue when he said it. My throat went tight. “I love you too, Mick.”

  “You still don’t understand. Dragons don’t love.”

  “What are you talking about? You love.” Mick loved—fiercely.

  “No, dragons obsess. We hoard, and we defend what we hoard. We mate to produce offspring, which we also possessively defend. All dragons know that another dragon’s one weak point is his lair.”

  “I thought it was the true name.”

  Mick shook his head. “No dragon will reveal his true name to another dragon, even accidentally. But the lair can be found, can be attacked. We’ll defend it to the death. Not because we love it, but because it’s ours.”

  “And now I’m yours.”

  “Yes.” The dragon black returned to his eyes. “If what I felt for you was desire alone, it wouldn’t be so hard for me. I’d lock you away and be done with it. I’d own you, keep you—end of story. But for some reason, I’ve decided I want you to be happy. It hurts me when you aren’t happy.” Mick let out a breath. “This . . . this need . . . is new.”

  And strange to him. I thought about the times Mick watched me with a look I couldn’t decipher. He’d study me as though trying to figure me out, to understand why the hell I did the things I did.

  I hadn’t realized he was battling himself, torn between wanting to bury me in his comfortable prison and letting me walk around free and happy, but in severe and constant danger. He went through this dilemma every day.

  I ran my hands up Mick’s chest again, brushing my thumbs over the hollow of his throat. “When you start leaning toward sequestering me, let me know. I’ll help you fight it.”

  “No guarantees that you can.”

  He took my mouth in a long, slow kiss, one that said that if we weren’t trying to find Ansel and figure out the secret of this pot, he’d have me on Ansel’s mission-style bed in a heartbeat.

  Instead he released me, his eyes changing to blue again.

  I knew he was right that fighting him would be tricky. While Mick wasn’t affected by my storm magic, my Beneath magic was a little different. Dragon magic was the magic of this earth, magic forged in the inferno of volcanoes. Beneath magic came from the worlds that existed before this one, where gods held power, and humans were few. Beneath magic was different from earth magic—in some ways more powerful, and in some ways less.

  Mick, though, was resourceful enough and strong enough to compensate against my Beneath magic. I’d never won a contest of magics against him, and I never wanted to have to.

  We wouldn’t find Ansel by standing here talking about our bizarre relationship. After another bone-searing kiss, Mick led me back upstairs, where Cassandra was busily looking over the glued-together pot. While Mick ducked into my office, saying he needed to ma
ke a few phone calls—and probably to calm down from our little talk downstairs—I approached Cassandra and leaned my elbows on the counter.

  “Do you know what that is?” I asked.

  She shook her head, still studying the patterns. “I’ve never heard about anything like it, or anything about these designs. I could look it up, but . . .” She set down the pot. Pamela picked it up, turning it in her hands, but she didn’t look enlightened either.

  I finished Cassandra’s thought. “But if you ask about it on your Wiccan network, you’ll alert other mages to its existence.”

  “Exactly. Witches and mages are always looking for something with which to enhance power. From what you’ve told me, a lot of people seem to want it. I’d be careful who finds out about it.”

  “Have you heard of Pericles McKinnon?” I asked.

  “Yes.” Cassandra looked at me so sharply that Pamela set down the pot and stepped closer to her. “He’s cunning and mean,” Cassandra went on. “And powerful. Why?”

  “Like Emmett Smith powerful?”

  “Not as strong as Emmett, but close. Pericles makes it no secret that he’d love to push Emmett out of power.”

  I nodded. “He said as much to me.”

  “Why don’t we just let Emmett have at him, then?” Pamela asked. “Pesky mage problem solved.”

  “The enemy of my enemy?” I mused. Pamela had met Emmett too, and her wolf had wanted to chomp on him. I’d love to have let her. “If Emmett kills Pericles for us, then we’d have to worry about Emmett trying to get his hands on this pot. The last thing we need is an all-powerful mage going for more power.”

  “I’ll try to see what I can find out without alerting anyone,” Cassandra said. I knew she could, since she was one of the most resourceful and efficient people I’d ever met. “Laura must have known more about it than she let on, even to Ansel.”

  “Which is why we need to find her.”

  Mick came out from my office, which was still dark. He hadn’t bothered turning on the light in there. “I’ve asked people around town, but no one’s seen Ansel. But I’m going to scour the ground for him. Eat something, Janet.”

  “Not here,” Pamela said. “Elena’s closed the kitchen. And locked it. I want a snack, but I guess I’ll have to go hunt a rabbit.”

  “Not if you’re sleeping with me, you’re not,” Cassandra said briskly. “That’s why the Goddess invented all-night diners. Both of you go. Eat.”

  * * *

  Which was how Pamela and I ended up at the diner in Magellan. Pamela actually going somewhere with me said a lot for her hunger. We rode our separate motorcycles but walked into the diner more or less together and sat at the counter next to each other.

  I had to admit that Mick had been smart to prescribe dinner. Lifting a hot, juicy burger with all the fixings to my mouth made me realize how hungry I was. Fighting all-powerful mages, arguing with Drake and my grandmother, worrying about Gabrielle searching for a magical artifact, and flying back from Santa Fe in a dragon talon gave me a hearty appetite.

  A guy in a jeans jacket with a chunky silver wristband slid onto the empty stool next to me. He took up a lot of space and shoved his big elbow into me when he opened his menu.

  I looked over to tell him to be careful, then half my burger splatted back to my plate, bathing me in droplets of ketchup.

  The guy was Indian, with a long black braid, a wide, handsome face, soul-searching brown eyes, and a white-toothed grin.

  “Hey, Janet,” Coyote said.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Holy fucking shit!”

  My voice carried. Conversation dipped, and every head in the place turned to me. Parents glowered in disapproval, and I think a baby started to cry.

  Then everyone gave one another looks that said, It’s just Janet, and returned to eating.

  Coyote sat there smiling at me. As though Bear hadn’t stabbed him with a stone knife made by the gods, as though I hadn’t watched him die in the desert and disappear into swirling dust. He looked whole and unhurt, his black button-down shirt unwrinkled, his hair neat in its braid. The cowboy hat he liked to wear rested on the empty stool beside him.

  He was there, solidly, but I recalled another night I’d sworn he’d been sitting next to me at this very counter, only to learn he’d been riding in Naomi Kee’s pickup at the exact same moment. No one in the diner had seen him but me.

  I swung to Pamela, but she’d left her seat and was making her way to the ladies room, so I waved down the waitress who wandered along the counter, coffeepot in hand.

  “Jolene,” I said. “Someone is sitting here beside me, right?” I pointed.

  Jolene stopped, smiled, and filled the cup Coyote pushed toward her. “Hi, Coyote. Been a while.”

  “You do see him, then?” I asked.

  Jolene gave me an odd look as she refilled my cup, but she, like everyone else in Magellan, was pretty convinced I was crazy. “Yes. I see Coyote, the storyteller. He comes here a lot. Are you feeling all right?”

  “Fine.” I picked up my coffee cup and dumped half the burning liquid down my throat.

  Jolene winked at Coyote. “Giant cheeseburger, rare, and a mess of fries, right?”

  “You got it, sweetie.”

  Jolene turned away, putting a little wiggle in her hips. Every woman flirted with Coyote.

  Then again, Coyote could be deluding Jolene as well. I reached over and pinched his wrist, hard.

  “Ow! Hey, Salas, you saw that, didn’t you?”

  Emilio, still in uniform but trying to enjoy his dinner at a booth behind us, looked up. “Give it up, Coyote. She’s with Mick.” The other diners either chuckled at the exchange or ignored it completely.

  “You know, if you’re into it, Janet, I’m game. We’ll ditch Mick and have some fun. Or he can come with us. I know you two like a little of the rough stuff.”

  “Will you stop that?” I said in a fervent whisper. “What the hell is this? You died. I watched you die. Was it a trick? Did you think it would be funny to put me through that? I should kill you myself.”

  Coyote lost his grin. “No, that was real. Bear killed me.”

  “Seriously—what the fuck is going on?”

  “It’s a test. For me. We’ve been doing this for millennia. How else am I going to prove myself to her?”

  “Prove yourself?”

  “All women need to know their guy is sincere.”

  “By letting her kill you?”

  “Yep.”

  “This is crazy.”

  Coyote tore off the ends of five packets of sugar and streamed them into his coffee. “I know your grandmother told you stories about Coyote when you were a kid, the clean ones anyway. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, it means you weren’t listening.”

  “I was seven. My mind wandered. Give me a break.”

  Coyote tore open another five packets of sugar and dumped those into the coffee as well. He picked up a spoon and stirred noisily. “Bear and I go for a while without seeing each other. Decades, sometimes centuries. Then I get the hankering to be with her, so I let her know where I’m hanging out.” He picked up his cup and took a noisy sip. “She comes to find me, but before I’m allowed to touch her, I have to pass her tests. Sometimes it’s feats of strength, sometimes it’s letting her kill me. Several times.”

  “Several times? Are you insane? Or is she?”

  He shrugged and drank more coffee. “It’s a challenge, Janet. We enjoy it. Let an old married couple play some love games.”

  “But if she loves you so much, why put you through that?” And put me through that? “Why don’t you just buy her flowers? Or jewelry. We like jewelry.”

  Coyote pressed his broad hand to his chest. “Because I’m Coyote. I love the ladies. I sleep around. I pull wild pranks. Bear has to know that, when I call her, I’m not just bored, or want to use her for something. She’s not going to let me touch her until she’s sure that I really, really need to see her. Not that
I just want some.” He grinned. “She has to know it’s not just a booty call.”

  “Either you truly love her, or you’re even crazier than I give you credit for. Why else would you do that?”

  Coyote took on a fond look, and his eyes softened into an affection I’d never seen in him before. “She’s an amazing woman. Totally worth it. Besides, have you ever been with someone who can turn into a bear? It’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced, and it’s something you’ll never forget.”

  I snatched up my messy burger. “You could have told me,” I said between my teeth. “You could have told me you’d come back to life, instead of letting me grieve like that.”

  “Oh, hey.” Coyote took one of my ketchup-stained hands and pressed it between his. “Sweetie, I didn’t think you’d grieve. Not for me.”

  “Of course I would. How stupid are you?”

  I had tears in my eyes. Coyote’s smile had completely vanished, his look concerned. “I’m sorry, Janet. I didn’t realize. And anyway, when I was lying out there, I wasn’t sure. Bear knows how to kill me permanently. One day she might destroy the last of my life essence, and I’ll be gone forever. I also never know how long it will be before she bothers to bring me back. It’s a kind of trust thing between us. I’m showing I trust her by putting my life into her hands. Literally.”

  “Gods, it’s like an S&M relationship taken to the bizarre.” I wiped my eyes. “Anyway, why didn’t she tell me? I thought Bear was my friend.”

  “She doesn’t like to talk about her personal life, particularly her relationship with me. Not her fault you happened to be taking your morning stroll while we were courting.”

  “Courting? You’re both out of your minds.”

  “We’re gods,” Coyote said patiently. “Comes with the territory. Aw, thank you, sweetheart,” he said as Jolene shoved a platter in front of him filled with the biggest burger the diner made plus a mountain of thick, golden fries. “This looks great. Being dead makes me hungry.”

  “I know how you feel,” Jolene said, topping up his coffee. “When I got out of bed this morning, I could barely find the bathroom. Never right until I have coffee inside me.”