Never a great way to impress a sexy guy.
“Where would you like it?” he asked.
She motioned to the coffee table, but actually considered motioning to another room—anywhere that would put more distance between them and fast. He was simply too much man for her. “There, please.”
He nodded and waited for her to accompany him before doing as asked.
“Thank you.” She bent to prepare cups of tea for her uncle and his visitor. She nearly spilled everything because she couldn’t seem to pull her gaze from the newcomer. He was breathtakingly handsome. His face was cut from stone, the edges hard, yet there was a softness in his eyes that was welcoming and mysterious. She could get lost for hours in his dark gaze if permitted.
Lazar.
The name was as intriguing as the man. She wanted to blurt out she’d dreamt of him, and that he’d not only caught her and had wings, but she was pretty darn sure he was her dream lover as well. Wisely, she held her tongue.
She took a seat across from him, next to her uncle. Crossing her legs, she smoothed a hand over her dress and bare thigh. Lazar seemed glued to the action as if it were soft-core porn, watching her hand with an intensity that made her gulp.
If Lisa could see me now, she’d die laughing. Or coach me on how to be a sex kitten.
Gardelle cleared his throat, and she slid closer to him on the sofa. He felt safe. Lazar felt dangerous in a way that could be both good and bad.
“So,” she mumbled, her body heating quickly with each stolen glance she took of Lazar. Men were not supposed to look that good, and they certainly weren’t supposed to be dreamworthy. “The two of you are old friends?”
“Yes,” said Gardelle.
“But you’ve never mentioned him before,” she protested.
Her uncle cast her a dubious look. “Brina, you talk so much it’s difficult for me to get a word in edgewise. How can I be expected to mention everyone I know when you jabber on and on endlessly?”
Nervously giggling, she nodded. Her uncle had an odd sense of humor. One she’d learned to understand when just a child. She knew he was joking. “Uh-huh. Sure.”
Lazar set his tea aside and leaned forward, watching her closely, his gaze compelling. “What is it someone your age enjoys doing, Sabrina?”
She stiffened at the sound of her full name. “You mean what do people our age do for fun around here?”
Her uncle and Lazar shared a knowing look before Lazar inclined his head. It was as if they were having a full conversation yet saying nothing. Strange, but then again so was Gardelle. Stood to reason his friends would be slightly odd too.
Sabrina offered a blasé shrug. “Not much. There are a few bars in town that we sometimes frequent on weekends. The city, about a half hour from here, has better ones and nightclubs. It also has restaurants that aren’t too bad. Every now and then a good play or show will come through there.”
The edges of his mouth drew upwards. “Today is Friday. That is a weekend, yes?”
“If you’re trying to get my niece to drag you to a bar, you’re—”
Sabrina cut off her uncle, knowing he’d simply go on and on. “I’d love to take your friend with me tomorrow night—erm, if he’s still in town and wants to go. It’s a bit late for me to want to head out on the town tonight.”
“The night has only just begun,” Lazar said steadfastly.
Gardelle grumbled something inaudible under his breath. It didn’t sound friendly or kind.
Ignoring the grump that was her uncle, Sabrina smiled at Lazar. “You sound like Lisa.”
“Lisa?” Lazar questioned as her uncle groaned.
“She-devil,” Gardelle spat. “Temptress who knows no bounds. Puts terrible ideas into sweet Brina’s head.”
Sabrina’s tongue darted out and over her lip. “Sweet?”
Gardelle eyed her. “As in comparison to that…that…”
She tried to keep from laughing. “She-devil?”
Her uncle gave a curt nod. “Precisely.”
“I, for one, would love to meet this Lisa,” Lazar said from the sidelines. “For any woman who can cause such a stir in one like Gardelle is worth meeting.”
Sabrina grinned. Lisa would more than likely eat both men alive. She wouldn’t be at a loss for the right words as was Sabrina. No. Lisa always knew what to say—even if it meant she said too much. “She’s not as bad as he makes her out to be.”
“She grabbed my backside last time she was here,” her uncle stated, appearing as traumatized by the incident now as he had been when it occurred. “And she held it!”
Sabrina had to lower her gaze to keep from tearing up with laughter. Lazar, however, had no issues with laughing at her uncle’s shock. Lazar inclined his head at her. “This nightclub. You would be willing to attend with me tomorrow evening?”
“Sure.” She looked at Gardelle. “You should come too, Gardelle. No one ever believes you’re old enough to be my uncle or that you’re old enough to have raised me. You don’t look a day over thirty. I’m sure the ladies would love it if you came too.”
Gardelle sighed. “Brina, it is far from my scene.”
“So stuffy,” she said out of the side of her mouth. “Stodgy.”
He laughed. “Yes, well, if your friend Lisa is also accompanying you, then I most certainly will be too stodgy to attend. She makes me feel as if I’m rare meat and she the hungry lioness.”
Sabrina tipped her head back and snorted. She put a hand on her uncle’s forearm. “You’re still afraid she’ll try to kiss you again. I told you once before that she was drunk. She doesn’t remember doing it.”
His eyes widened. “I spent four hours prying the young female off me. I would remove her, and she would pounce upon me again—like she was the hunter and I the prey. Oh, she is no mere mortal. She is a vixen to be avoided at all costs.”
Sabrina laughed. Gardelle and his aversion to Lisa was notorious and a serious point of many longstanding jokes between them. She slapped her leg in an unladylike way. “No mere mortal. I can’t wait to tell her you said that.”
Her uncle chortled. “I’m sure she’ll enjoy knowing she’s managed to strike fear into one such as me.”
Snickering, Lazar pulled her attention to him once more. “Enough about my friends,” she said. “Let’s talk about yours, uncle.”
Lazar straightened somewhat in the chair. Not many would enjoy being on the spot, but he seemed even more put off by the idea than most.
Interesting.
“And what would you like to know about him?” Gardelle questioned, an odd tone to his voice. “Perhaps if he’s single?”
Her head whipped to her uncle. “Excuse me, what?”
With limited success, he attempted to hide his smile. “Just forming a guess as to what you may wish to know of my friend.”
“All I have so far is that you two go way back and that he’s from Eastern Europe. Though his accent isn’t one I can place.” She shrugged. “I don’t claim to know everything about everywhere. So, Lazar, what is it you do for a living?”
Gardelle interrupted as something akin to panic raced over Lazar’s face. “He’s in private security. Deals with very high-profile clients and of course is contractually bound not to discuss them or matters pertaining to them. You understand, I’m sure.”
“Neat,” she said, resisting the urge to ask what famous people he might have guarded. Her uncle would shut her down, just as he’d done. It was his way, and regardless what others thought, she loved him despite his flaws. “Do you carry a gun?”
Gardelle grunted. “Brina, really?”
“It’s a valid question,” she defended, sipping her tea. Man meat with a weapon was one hot image to conjure. “I didn’t ask if he’s ever killed anyone.”
“And you’re not going to either,” her uncle scolded as if she were a child.
Lazar crossed an ankle over his leg and leaned back in the chair, his muscled body tugging at his clothing. Her mouth wat
ered. She’d dreamed of him minus the clothing and knew every inch of him.
No. You don’t. It was dreams. Not real.
Her pulse quickened as she thought back to the countless times she’d dreamt of him. Of being brought to culmination by his gifted hands, mouth and body.
Sabrina had to focus to control her breathing.
Lazar inclined his head. “I generally carry a weapon, but I’ve no weapon on me now. I like to think I am a walking weapon.”
She couldn’t help but smile. The man seemed to get sexier by the second. Something that should be against the law. “Double neat.”
“Double neat?” Gardelle challenged. “You had the finest education money could buy, and double neat is what you come up with in response?”
She tried not to laugh. It didn’t work. “Stodgy.”
He smiled as well. “I just want you to make a nice first impression. That is all. I know how incredibly sweet and perfect you are. I’d like Lazar to realize as much as well.”
Narrowing her gaze, she eyed her uncle. “Why?”
He merely grinned in response.
Her expression fell as she realized what was happening. “Oh no you didn’t.”
“I didn’t what?” he asked.
“Tell me you did not lose your mind again about how much danger I’m supposedly in and go and hire a bodyguard for me?”
“Relax,” he said quickly. “Lazar is not here because I hired him to protect you. He is as I said, an old friend. You can stand down now, small one.”
“You know,” she said absently. “I’m actually tall for a girl. I can’t help that you’re a giant and apparently so are all your friends.”
Lazar chuckled. “He has a point, Sabrina. You are quite tiny, at least in comparison to us and the women we’re used to.”
She glanced nervously at him and pushed the stray strands of her hair behind her ears. “I, um, prefer Brina. Hearing you say my whole name is…”
“Strange,” Gardelle offered.
“No. Familiar,” she admitted, and then regretted it.
“Really?” Lazar asked, his fingers easing along the edges of the oversized chair. “As if I have maybe said it before in a dream or maybe the past? When you were young?”
She stiffened at the mention of dreaming. Had he shared the same dreams?
Blushing from head to toe, she thought of what they’d done in her dreams. Things she’d never actually done in real life. In fact, in real life she was far from experienced. She laughed nervously, and then it faded as she found herself thinking more about what he’d said—about the past. He was right. That wasn’t possible though. He didn’t look any older than she. Thinking herself mad, she snorted. “I know what it is. It’s the name—Lazar. It reminds of when I was little. I had this imaginary friend, and your name makes me think of what I named him. That must be it.”
Gardelle’s entire posture changed. He stared at her, and an odd dawning seemed to come over him. “Zar-Zar.”
She smiled wide. “You remember.”
“I do,” Gardelle responded, his gaze sliding to Lazar. “She asked for him until she was nearly seven.”
Sabrina set her cup on the table. “It’s been a long time, but I have fuzzy—limited memories of then.”
“Do you remember crying for him?” Gardelle asked cautiously. “Telling me he was sad and that he missed you?”
She shook her head. “Nope. I had a very vivid imagination, so who knows what I came up with. I do know that I was positive he had wings and could fly. Crazy. I know. I must have a thing for wings.”
Lazar choked on his tea. He coughed before setting it down. “Yeah. Crazy.”
“I think I just gave your friend the impression I’m a nutjob,” she said to her uncle.
Lazar perked. “No. Not at all. I’m curious about this imaginary friend of yours. The one with the wings. Do you remember anything about him?”
She thought about changing the subject but decided there was no harm in answering. “He was safe. Whenever I dreamed him up, I felt totally and completely safe. When he was gone, I was terrified. I don’t remember of what or who or even why. My first full memories aren’t until I’m around four or so and I was already living with Gardelle by then. I do know that I couldn’t see my imaginary friend anymore. I remember drawing him pictures and telling him stories about my day even though he wasn’t there.” She snorted. “Not that he ever was, but you get what I’m saying.”
“You used to ask for him for Christmas and your birthdays,” Gardelle stated. “I never realized he was real.”
“Real? No,” she said. “He felt real to me when I was little but then again so did the boogeyman. If we could stop focusing on me and my lame childhood delusions, that would be great.”
Gardelle touched her arm. “Refresh my memory again, Brina. You were seven when you stopped asking for Zar-Zar. It was about the same time your pet came into your life, yes?”
“Yep.”
Lazar tipped his head. “A pet?”
“Yes. Brina was playing outside, near the creek, when her screams alerted me to a problem. I ran to find her on her knees next to an injured domestic falcon.”
Sabrina sighed at the thought. “He was cute and helpless. And you wanted to shoot him and put him out of his misery.”
Her uncle shifted uncomfortably. “I have apologized numerous times for that.”
“I can’t believe you would actually shoot a poor, innocent, defenseless bird. And don’t try that ending-his-suffering bit again. It didn’t work on me when I was seven, it won’t work now,” she said.
He grunted. “I know. You insisted he be brought into the house and tended to. He was most displeased with the idea of me lifting him.”
“Yeah, you wanted to shoot him,” she replied. “That would turn me off to you too.”
Lazar chuckled.
“But you,” her uncle stressed. “You, he permitted to pick him up without any issue.”
She rolled her eyes. “Because my first response wasn’t to shoot him.”
Gardelle laughed, but it lacked a smile that reached his eyes. “Brina, you dismiss your way with him and joke it off when we both know you formed a bond with him. He was born in the wild and had lived a free life before you. After you cared for him, he refused to return to the wild.”
“Not true,” she said, taking slight offense. “He totally lived outside.”
“He went no farther than required to hunt for food and returned to the tree outside your bedroom window. There is where he made his home until his passing.”
“Can we stop talking about Prince?”
“Prince?” Lazar questioned.
She nodded. “Yes. I named the falcon Prince.”
“Prince what?” asked Gardelle.
She bit her lower lip. “Prince Zar.”
He shot Lazar a knowing look.
Lazar seemed elated by the news. “You’re a very interesting young woman.”
“Thanks. I think.”
Chapter Five
Gardelle sat, his body tense as he broke bread with a man he’d never truly believed existed. He’d become so overprotective of Sabrina that having her destined mate here in his home made him contemplate running Lazar through with a sword. Sadly, he’d come to know Lazar over the course of his stay within the Kingdom of the Hawks. He was a good man. A much better man than his brother, King of the Falcons.
Latravis’s cruelties knew no bounds. His own kind lived in fear of the mad king who ruled their lands. None challenged the throne from within. They obeyed because the alternative was death. The kingdoms surrounding that of the Falcons had lived centuries dealing with the madness that leaked out. Wars ravished the borderlands, and hate was deeply ingrained on both sides. Theirs weren’t the only warring kingdoms in Accipitridae. The Eagles had a longstanding feud with the Vultures, and the Buzzards made life for the Osprey difficult while still managing to feud with most of the realm. The Owls were the only ones who seemed to have c
ooler temperaments and less war. They were often called in during times of peace negotiations. Though they were not to be dismissed when war was needed. They could be fierce when called for.
Latravis had managed to isolate his kingdom from not only the Hawks but, at last check, all, including the Owls, were now in alignment against him. That was saying something. Getting the rest of the kingdoms to lay down arms against each other long enough to take them up against you spoke volumes to your lack of character.
Gardelle sighed. Sabrina would be drawn into their world even though he’d sought to keep it from her. There was nothing he could do to stop it. Her mate was truly alive and here, sitting before her, looking as if he was barely containing the need to touch her.
This wasn’t what he wanted for his niece, but not much that had happened in her life had been what he’d have picked. Lazar could mean happiness, a family, immortality. He could also be the bringer of death should his brother come into play.
* * * *
Accipitridae Realm in the Kingdom of the Falcons, on the borders of Falconidae…
“My lord,” Ennae, a trusted member of the guards, said as he approached the throne. His walk was slow down the long, narrow center of the throne room.
Latravis tapped the edges of the chair and lifted a hand, beckoning the warrior closer. “What is it?”
“The bastard,” stated Ennae through gritted teeth.
“What has he done now? Defected to the Kestrels now?” The traitor had left the service of his king to bow down to the king of their enemy—the Hawks. Kabril and his fellow Hawks were weak. They had somehow been lucky enough to hold off Latravis’s attacks, but they were no match for him—for his armies. He’d see all the Hawks dead or in chains before the end of his lifetime.
Ennae eyed Latravis warily. “He is within the human realm. To the east, and within one day’s flying distance from the nearest portal, if my information is correct.”
With a shrug, Latravis cast an unimpressed look toward his guard. “This matters to me how? He often whores around there, yes? Yet none of you have been able to find and kill him as I ordered.”
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