Her Warriors' Three Wishes (Dante's Circle)

by Ryan, Carrie Ann

  Jamie deserved more, a future. Not the broken shell of a man. He wasn’t selfish enough to think he would make her happy, though he desperately wanted to be that man. Sometimes he thought he could be—could see their future.

  No, he couldn’t. She was too young for him. Too full of life. She’d be happier without him.

  He closed his eyes while Shade and Lily talked to each other. He tugged on the cord that connected him and Jamie, the one she didn’t know existed because she hadn’t made the change to supernatural yet, even though he knew she was feeling the effects of the need to change. Luckily, it hadn’t been as bad as Lily’s, so he could leave her. She might feel only slightly weak, but she hadn’t had the seizures or other side effects that Lily had endured, thankfully.

  Unlike Lily though, Jamie had been feeling the weakness for almost a year.

  And, it was his fault.

  He’d left her, and they hadn’t made love.

  Hadn’t even kissed.

  He hadn’t wanted to tie her to a man too old to be what she needed. In his heart, he’d known there was another for her. He’d felt it. The world consisted of just one true half per person, and some triads, Ambrose felt for certain there was another for Jamie, one that would be her true half. He knew in his heart that she would be happy with that other man, whoever he may be.

  He sighed. Now he was just kidding himself. There wasn’t potentially several mates out there for any one person. If he could feel like something was missing, like there was another for her, then that meant there had to be someone for him, as well.

  He shook his head. No, he couldn’t think about that.

  Not yet.

  Jamie was not the one for him, despite the cord that tethered them. Despite the lightning that had caused it all to begin with.

  Her body was weakening because she’d met him and he’d started that change—or, in his opinion, that curse. He couldn’t let her go through it any longer. No, he wouldn’t be with her. She deserved better, but he could find that other man. The one he knew existed as sure as he felt the cord that connected him and Jamie. He would do what he must to find that man for her. He couldn’t bear to think of her in any more pain.

  Or any pain at all to think of it.

  Nevertheless, he knew more pain was coming. She’d been living too easily for too long, and fate was a bitch when she wanted to be. Their connection might have allowed him to heal her physically, just like the night of Striker’s death when he’d first felt the cord, but he couldn’t heal this. He knew he would have to find this other man for her to be whole. That way she could find for her the one who could help her find her supernatural half and live in peace.

  He would find him so Jaime could feel alive again.

  Ambrose wasn’t for her. No, he was for no one.

  He wouldn’t wallow, but he would live like he always had, hollow but with a purpose.

  Jamie .

  ****

  Pyro paced the length of his foyer, anger rolling through him with each step. His son was dying, but not fast enough for his taste. The bastard had forsaken their oaths and refused to take souls into the hells realm. Why couldn’t the little twit die already?

  Soon though, Pyro felt Balin begin to fade more with each day and relished it. Within days, Pyro wouldn’t have to deal with the chain that shackled him to this realm. Although Balin didn’t force him to remain in hell, if Pyro left, he was afraid of the damage Balin would do in his absence.

  Like free the slaves and gladiators.

  No, that wouldn’t do.

  Pyro went to his throne, an ornate chair made of the bones of his enemies, and plopped down, his body weary with boredom, something that could never do for a demon such as he.

  He needed something to pass the time waiting for Balin to die. He couldn’t kill his son in hell. No, ever since Lucifer had killed his own son in hell, they’d put a curse on the ability to kill one’s loved ones. Damn that demon for ruining everything like always.

  Maybe it was time to put his other plan in place. With Balin about to die, Pyro could use his men and powers to hurt the enemy who’d given him the scar that ran down the side of his body. The scar that revolted the women he took to his bed. Though they had to deal with it anyway, he wouldn’t let them leave once he found them. That was not a demon’s way.

  Yes, it was time to pay Ambrose a visit.

  He couldn’t go to the angelic realm to find him. No, that would start a war, a war he would relish, but he was not in the mood to deal with the politics. However, he could go to the human realm and not start a war—it was in his blood. No one cared about the humans anyway. They were just the piss and backwater of the purebloods.

  And, if his sources here correct, there was a woman who’d peaked the old angel’s interest. A woman who’d been struck by lightning and lived to tell the tale. No, the two angels and that dragon where not as secretive as they thought. All of the realms knew something was amiss with those women, but no one cared enough to deal with it unless it affected them.

  One of them had turned into a brownie.

  He wondered what the woman who Ambrose had set his gaze on would turn into.

  Maybe Pyro could cut it out of her.

  Oh yes, that sounded like a plan. He’d take the girl and bring Ambrose to him. Though the angel wouldn’t want an all-out war by stepping on hell’s land, he could find a way to make it happen. The old bastard was crafty like that.

  Pyro smiled, his teeth lengthening, his talons curling.

  Yes, this would work. He’d send his men to get the girl, play with her to his heart’s content, and the old winged bastard would come to him.

  And, while all of this was happening, Balin would die from his own stubbornness, his own failure to do what was meant to be a demon.

  Perfect.

  A scream tore from the woman he’d pinned to the wall earlier and he sighed.

  Fuck, he’d forgotten about her in all his planning. Well, it was of no use wasting a human since they were so hard to come by these days. Fools were forgetting the magic and not summoning the demons as often.

  Pity to those who did.

  Pyro took out his blade, sharp and deadly, just the right size of blade to extract the most pain and smiled again. He stood then walked to his captive.

  “You really should know not to summon things stronger than you,” he warned as he slowly sliced away at her flesh. The human’s eyes turned a brassy dull, the life fading out of her as she screamed, and he let the terror wash over him in pure bliss.

  “Sadly, I’m bored with you now, so I’m going to give you to my men. I was going to kill you, but now I have another human in mind.”

  Her blood spattered on his bare arms and he turned away, licking the rivulets as he did so. With a nod to his men who had come into the room at the final scream, two of them went to her, grins on their faces.

  Pyro had to find this human woman and lure Ambrose to him. That was his goal. The other humans could wait until later. A scream filled with insurmountable pain echoed along the walls behind him, and he took a deep breath, letting the horror seep into his pores.

  It would be a good day.

  Finally, Ambrose would pay.

  Chapter 2

  Jamie Bennett cursed as a car sped by her through a puddle, splashing her with muddy water. The asshole obviously meant to compensate for a shortage of something. Dirty water and mud dripped from her hair and rain jacket, only adding to her already dreary, exhausted state.

  Oh, yes, the mud accentuated her look, right?

  With a growl, or at least what she thought was a growl but was more like a whimper, she pulled the muddy locks of hair from her face. Her chestnut hair now had lively gray and puke-brown streaks in it. Thankfully, she’d worn her raincoat since the weather patterns seemed to be stuck on rain. They’d been living in a gray world for months now, even though summer was just around the corner.

  With one last shake of her head to remove what mud she could, she w
alked into Dante’s Circle, her favorite bar and sanctuary. Dante’s wasn’t a normal bar. No, it was owned and operated by a dragon.

  Yes, a real dragon.

  Not that she and her friends had known that when they’d stumbled upon it a couple of years ago. One of them, Becca, had even gotten a job as a bartender there to pay for school. Before, it had been a way for her and her six friends to let go of the worries of the day and connect the way none of them could with others outside their circle.

  Then the night of the storm had changed everything.

  Jamie and her friends had been struck by lightning, and now they weren’t humans anymore. Not that they’d ever been truly as human as they’d thought, but Jamie didn’t quite understand the science of it all. Lily, the chemist of the group, knew all about that.

  Now Lily had turned into a brownie because she’d met Shade, and Jamie had turned into a…well, a nothing. She just hurt.

  A lot.

  She felt as though she was ready to change—her skin too tight, her body too active—yet nothing had happened.

  Apparently, she needed to have sex with her true half.

  The man—or angel—she thought just might fill that role wanted nothing to do with her.

  Yay for her.

  Jamie took another step into Dante’s, removed her jacket, and hung it up on one of the numerous pegs on the wall. She loved the feel of the bar, the way it felt like home with its hand-carved wood paneling and shelves. There was a pool table in the corner, but it didn’t add a sense of a pool hall to the bar. It just made it a place to have fun. Tables with mismatched chairs covered the room, making it feel warm to her. Pictures of the town and its inhabitants and paintings from local artists covered the walls.

  Dante’s Circle could have held every aspect of the history of the town, especially with a dragon–who was god knows how old–as the owner, if Dante had desired it.

  No, he preferred it to be his own little corner of the world.

  Perfect for Jamie and her friends.

  “Jamie! What on earth happened to you?” Becca asked. She put down the tray she’d been holding on the bar and grabbed a handful of paper towels, running toward Jamie. Her curly red hair bounced on her shoulders.

  Jamie took the towels out of Becca’s hand before her friend could mother her. As she wiped her face, she rolled her eyes.

  “Some asshat with a small penis drove by too fast and splashed me.”

  Becca’s eyes widened. “I assume you know the size of his penis because of his car, not from personal experience.”

  “Fuck off.”

  “He must have pissed you off because you never cuss like that.”

  Jamie’s skin tightened, and weakness spread through her. She fought off the shakes that normally came with it and she knew she must look pale. “Yeah, that’s it.” Not the fact that she’d felt out of sorts for a freaking year because a certain angel had left her alone in the human realm.

  A flash of white caught her eye, and Jamie barely held back a gasp.

  Oh, that just figured.

  Ambrose, the man she’d tried to forget, walked toward her, a frown on his face. The man—no, angel—seemed to always be frowning, never smiling. His face would probably crack if he ever did show a happier emotion.

  “Is everything all right?” he asked, his voice deep. The rough sound shot straight through her system. She was helpless to defend herself against it.

  She knew she resembled one of the heroines in the romance novels she loved to read, standing there doe-eyed, falling in love…

  Damn the man.

  No, she’d be one of those newer characters, the ones who stood tall and acted as if they didn’t care before they took up their sword and battled demons of their own.

  Yeah, she’d be one of them.

  Jamie squared her shoulders and nodded. “I’m fine thanks, Ambrose.” His name on her tongue caused a little rush of something she’d rather not think about to flow through her.

  Damn the man again.

  He looked good. Too good. He’d put his white-blond hair in a ponytail, and it only accentuated the masculinity of his features. He was built, sexy—a warrior god. Those gray eyes…she could lose herself in them if she would let herself.

  He nodded, his gaze traveling over her, whether to check for wounds or because he liked to look at her she didn’t know, and she tried not to care. He didn’t have his normal aura of being a stoic man who knew all and could do all. No, something was off.

  “Good to hear,” he said and then cleared his throat. Why did he look nervous? “It’s good to see you, Jamie.”

  She held back the pleasure at those words. He’s just being friendly, remember? “It’s been a long time.”

  “Yes, it has.”

  “Are you done flirting over there?” Faith yelled from the table. “Come on and sit so we can order. What took you so long?”

  Jamie held back a wince at her friend’s not-so-subtle tone. Crap, talk about awkward. She looked up into Ambrose’s face, and he lifted the corner of his lip. Her stomach fluttered at the sight of his smile—or at least a partial one.

  God, talk about pathetic. It had been a year since she’d seen him, and she wanted to throw herself at him. The image of her doing so filled her mind and she held back a groan. She wasn’t a desperate woman; she could handle the temptation.

  The laughter echoing in her head, which sounded suspiciously like Faith, could easily be ignored.

  Becca went back behind the bar while Ambrose stood back and gestured for her to walk first. That was good, that way she wouldn’t be caught staring at him like a starving dog clamoring after a bone.

  A meaty, delicious, mouth-watering bone.

  She blinked. That was enough of that.

  Her six girlfriends and Lily’s husband, Shade, were now sitting at the table waiting for her to join them. She must have been deep in thought, and looking idiotic, if Becca had made it back to the table before she had.

  She gave Faith a long look. “Thanks for that,” she said dryly.

  “Anytime, doll,” Faith said, not a single glimpse of remorse in her eyes.

  Jamie took her seat at the table while Ambrose took the last empty one—the one directly next to her.

  Oh, that wasn’t subtle at all, guys.

  She shifted in her chair as awareness of his presence slid over her body. Why did she want him so much? It made no sense; she hadn’t even seen the man in a year.

  Why couldn’t she just get over him? Maybe she’d been wrong and he wasn’t really her true half. After all, she didn’t really know exactly what it meant to have one. She’d only learned about it through Shade and Lily. They were the only paranormals she knew.

  Well, there was always Dante, but he was tightlipped about the whole mating-power thing. He’d always been quiet and reserved with her and her friends when he wasn’t barking out orders like a normal barkeep. Plus, the man had a weird connection to her friend, Nadie, the virginal blonde of the group. She snorted at the thought. Yep, that was Nadie all right.

  “Where’s your head?” the man in question asked. Dante truly was a beautiful man, his dark hair holding midnight-blue streaks that flowed down his back. He was ripped like a cover model with tattoos and piercings making him look sexy and dangerous.

  And, totally not who she wanted.

  Dante sat down on a stool next to their table and cocked his head.

  “Sorry, I’m just still pissed at the puddle man,” she lied.

  Yeah, like she’d tell them she’d been thinking about true mates and the sexy angel sitting next to her taking up entirely too much space.

  “Hopefully he’ll get a ticket later,” Nadie said as she brushed a lock of long blonde hair behind her ear. Nadie was beautiful woman, but she never did anything about it.

  Yeah, not so much.

  “You know that won’t happen,” Lily said as she leaned into Shade’s hold. They really were a gorgeous couple. His darker skin tone was like carame
l to her ivory. While her eyes were big and green, his were a fractured ice-blue, uniquely amazing. While his black hair was tied back, Lily had let hers fall around her shoulders, and Shade absentmindedly played with it.

  “Of course not. Asshats like that get away with everything,” Amara said before taking a drink of her beer. She ran a hand through her curly auburn hair then smiled.

  “Oh, yes, the asshats of the earth,” Faith said. “Why can’t we just kill them all? Don’t you boys know something that can help?”

  Shade threw a pretzel at her, and she ducked, her chin-length black hair going into disarray.

  “Stop throwing food in my bar,” Dante ordered.

  Eliana threw a pretzel in his direction, and he caught it without even looking. Her brown eyes widened, and everyone froze.

  “What? Should I continue to hide what I am? Maybe act like a klutzy human?” He narrowed his gaze at Becca then winked. “No, dear, that’s not all humans, just you.”

  Becca glowered at the dragon. “Okay, I think we have an asshat at our table.”

  Jamie laughed then took a sip of her drink Dante had delivered without an order. If it weren’t for the fact that none of them ever had more than one drink at any time, she’d be worried that the bartender knew tastes so well.

  Honestly, she was really boring. She owned a failing bookstore that she’d tried to perk up with countless signings, recommendations, book clubs, and food, but it was no use. The indie bookstore was a dying breed, and she’d have to find something else to do or she’d lose everything.

  She took another gulp of her drink and tried not to think about it. Everything hurt as it was. She didn’t need to think about one more thing to add to her pain.

  “So, Ambrose, why are you back?” Faith asked, a blunt curiosity in her tone.

  Jamie’s attention narrowed to the angel of her thoughts. Yes, why was he back after all this time? Was he here to help her though her change?

  She felt a blush cover her face at the thought. Uh, yeah, “helping” her through the change would require sex. So not happening.

  Ambrose took a drink of his beer and settled back into his chair. He wouldn’t meet her gaze, even though she wanted it.