Dance of the Dragon

by Kira Nyte

  If. Another choice. Each minute, he gave her more and more of the lead to her life, handing her control when she never had it before. He was allowing her to choose her own path, her own wants and desires.

  Yet she was finding it hard to do that. She found herself more and more inclined to stay with him and let him guide her.

  “It’s Gabriella.” She blushed when his brows rose. She shrugged and picked up her fork. “You make my name sound pretty.”

  Taryn reached for her hand and lifted her fingers to his mouth, pressing a warm kiss to her fingertips. He continued to hold her hand on the countertop, his thumb brushing her knuckles.

  “Gabriella it is, angel.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Useless, those men hulking around like trolls. She hated their presence, despised their questioning glances in her direction.

  Malla moved to the bar after the last two men approached her without invitation and believed they were welcome to take a seat at her table. The lust in their expressions was repulsive. Too much like the looks in the eyes of her father’s soldiers whenever a female sauntered by.

  Their thoughts were far from redeeming.

  She considered placing a haggard glamour on herself, but decided it wouldn’t help. She wasn’t hiding from the dragons. Let them know she was hunting them. Let them look over their shoulders, constantly searching for the threat.

  She’d strike when they least expected it. One by one. She’d follow each dragon until he found his lifemate. Let them get comfortable in the silence. In her absence.

  One of her soldiers tailed Syn and his lifemate at this very moment. Foolish dragon, bringing his dearly beloved back to the city the Baroqueth nearly destroyed.

  And Taryn. Oh, sweet, generous Taryn.

  She sipped her martini, eyeing the growing crowd. The music switched from boring elevator music to heady with a beat.

  The clientele changed as the evening turned to night. The humans became a minority as the paranormals swarmed in.

  “Another drink?” the bartender asked.

  Malla eyed her silently, making the woman shift uncomfortably. She slowly pushed her empty glass forward. “Please.”

  As the bartender prepared her drink, Malla glanced at the delicate gold watch on her wrist. After ten. She was certain she had followed the essence correctly. The Keeper was hard to miss. A sick essence, one haunted and hurting. Malla found herself feeling for the woman. She understood what it was like to be in a position she didn’t choose.

  It was the first time she actually empathized with her enemy.

  Malla didn’t choose to be Darieth Constantine’s daughter, but she chose not to end up like the six remaining Baroqueth women who existed as nothing more than baby factories. She was given that choice. And by taking that path, she had also become the strongest sorcerer in their clan, next to her father.

  The bartender placed the fresh martini on the counter with a smile. “Would you like me to start a tab?”

  Malla drew a twenty out of her clutch and slipped it across the bar top. “No need. But can you tell me about the new woman who works here?”

  The bartender’s brow furrowed. She glanced over her shoulder, then braced her forearms on the bar top, leaning closer to Malla. Malla followed her gaze to a woman with short hair and hawkish eyes.

  “Who are you referring to?” the bartender asked.

  Malla lazily turned her focus back to the woman in front of her. “I believe she was here the other night.”

  “The blond?”

  Malla nodded once. “Yes. Blue eyes. Anxious.”

  “She walked out. Don’t know why. She looked frazzled, but hauled ass out of the club before anyone could ask her what happened. Needless to say, she’s no longer employed.” The bartender quirked her mouth. “She was a strange one. Jittery, you know? Like she was on something. Don’t need that kind working in this place.”

  Malla forced a smile of agreement.

  Her lead had led to a dead end. The woman wasn’t working here. Whatever witchery she was using to hide, Malla couldn’t break. Not until she found the source of the magic, either person or object—

  “You give her another chance, Rodney, or I’ll give the video to your sweet wife. Remember, I got you by the balls.”

  “How the fuck do you want me to give her another chance when you can’t even tell me how to contact her? And why the hell should I after I had the cops in here asking questions about her? Do you know she’s a suspect in a murder investigation?”

  Malla straightened up in the chair, lowering her glass from her lips without taking a sip.

  “The girl can’t kill a damn bug, let alone a person. The shit will blow over. I don’t know what the hell happened, but she needs this job.”

  “And I don’t need the fucking bad publicity! Now, I’d suggest you remove yourself from my office before I have you removed.”

  “Bastard. Hope you like what you go home to when I’m through with you.”

  Malla traced the crackling energy left by anger to a side hallway. A few moments later, she was granted a small gem in the midst of this miserable place. A woman, very fake blond hair, overly made up face, dripping with costume jewelry, stalked toward the bar. A bar packed with patrons elbow to elbow.

  Malla twisted in her chair enough to leave a small opening between herself and the next customer, and guided the woman with a gentle impulse of magic to her side. The woman was none the wiser as she squeezed into the tiny space next to Malla. She waved the bartender over as she dug a hand into her bag. Malla scrunched her nose. The stench of stale smoke and cheap perfume could destroy her sense of smell in seconds.

  She drowned the horrid odor behind a deep drink from her martini and listened to the woman curse up a storm in her head. She was thankful she had learned at a very young age how to control all the voices, allowing only those she wanted or needed into her mind.

  “Bartender!”

  The woman who’d served Malla snapped up an arm and motioned “one minute” as she spoke with other customers. That’s when the hawkish woman came over with a fake smile.

  “What can I get for you?”

  “Double shot of whiskey. Straight up.” The cheap-looking older woman scowled. “Make that a triple.”

  “Stupid girl. Always fucking things up.”

  She smacked a twenty on the bar top. The hawkish bartender’s smile turned condescending. “It’ll be twenty-two dollars, ma’am.”

  The woman raked a hand through her teased hair. “Double, then.”

  Malla withdrew another twenty. “Give her a triple. Here’s the difference.”

  Both women looked at her, one skeptical, one surprised. The fake blond narrowed her eyes. Malla simply blinked, then took another sip of her martini.

  Oh, that gods-awful perfume.

  She lowered her hand beneath the bar top and resorted to an invisible pulse of magic to dampen the woman’s…aroma.

  “Still want the triple?” the bartender asked.

  The woman cleared her throat. “Uh, yeah. Thanks.”

  When the bartender left, Malla answered the woman’s inquiring stare. “Seems you need it. Rough night?”

  “A mess,” the woman groused.

  Malla honed in on the woman’s essence. She wasn’t a Keeper, didn’t have much magic, but certainly was not from this world, although she had assimilated very well. It would explain how she had birthed a dragon’s lifemate. The Hollow had commoners, and she had been one of those lower-class members of the dragon realm.

  The woman dropped her head onto her hand and groaned. “My daughter has a way of sabotaging everything. Everything I do for her, ya know? Kids are ungrateful little brats.”

  Malla pressed out her lower lip and gave a slow nod. Ungrateful. The Keeper was ungrateful for what? For almost being raped? For being degraded by this woman’s partner?

  Keep your head in the game, Malla. Don’t start feeling bad for the Keeper.

  “I couldn’t sa
y. I don’t have children,” Malla said, stirring the stuffed olives in her martini.

  “Don’t waste your time. Unless you can get something out of ’em.” The bartender returned with the whiskey, set it down, took the money, and left. The woman let out a sharp breath and knocked the entire drink back in a single gulp. She shuddered. “Damn, that’s good stuff.” She placed the glass on the counter. “Thanks.”

  Curiosity got the best of Malla. “Why did you have a child if she’s such a burden?” Why would this woman take on the responsibility?

  “Because she was my ticket to the easy life. To the elite. And she’s gone and messed it up. Always does this. Always screws up the plan.”

  “Foolish girl, murders my boyfriend. How the hell am I gonna fix this?”

  The corner of Malla’s mouth twitched. She pushed her unfinished martini away and slid off the barstool. The woman was a couple of inches taller than her, but lacked the presence to fill her shoes.

  “I don’t think she murdered anyone,” Malla said quietly, projecting her voice for the woman’s ears alone. The older woman’s eyes widened, then narrowed.

  “Excuse me?”

  Malla touched her finger to the woman’s temple, injecting her with a burst of energy that would help Malla track her later.

  “I said, I don’t think your daughter murdered anyone.” Malla lowered her hand, her lips turning upward in dark grin. “I did.”

  With a snap of her fingers, her magic silenced the woman’s tongue against speaking Malla’s confession, and created a bright beacon she could hone in on when alerted to the Keeper’s presence.

  “Have a good evening.”

  Malla left the lip-flapping woman at the bar and took to the streets of the French Quarter. She tugged her velvet coat more tightly around her and looked up into the clear sky, wishing for an end to this charade.

  Well, what she thought was a dead end had turned into a very promising lead after all. She could only hope the woman knew where her daughter was, and that she’d lead her straight to the dragon’s doorstep.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Taryn pulled open the door and ushered Amelia into the house, scanning the street for any signs of Baroqueth as he did so. The two officers watching the house remained almost out of sight, but he had caught them out of their car dusting crumbs from their pants when he tried to bring Gabriella out shopping for new clothes.

  “Anyone follow you?” Taryn asked.

  Amelia let out an exasperated sigh. “How long have we been dodging your enemies and how many times have I been followed?”

  Taryn closed the door and bolted the lock. “No need to brag.”

  “Syn and Briella made it back safely?” Amelia asked, shedding her eccentric coat and draping it over the arm of a sofa. Taryn led her into the library off the living room. Gabriella looked up from the book she was reading. Amelia pressed her hands to her chest before she hurried to Gabriella and gave her a hug. “Oh, you look so well!”

  “Thank you for helping me,” Gabriella said. “It won’t happen again.”

  Taryn folded his arms over his chest, pride swelling at the conviction in his angel’s voice. Her gaze landed on him. It brimmed with adoration and thanks, and a little something else. That something else hadn’t left her eyes since she woke, and he could only hope it continued to manifest.

  Goddess knew how hard it was to control the desire seething in his veins.

  “I’ll always be here to help you. Taryn needs you more than he realizes.” She smoothed a hand down Gabriella’s hair, a friendly gesture that riled a bit of jealousy inside Taryn. “You know, to keep him level-headed.”

  “He seems pretty level-headed to me now that I’ve been getting to know him.” She wagged a finger. “Except for when it comes to food portion control.”

  Taryn laughed and crossed the room to rest his hip on the arm of Gabriella’s chair. “Making sure you’re well fed.” He lost his humor. “Syn and Briella arrived a little while go. Cade’s coming at some point. Probably in the next couple hours. Between the surveillance crew outside and the Baroqueth on our heels, I think it’s time we get out of town again.”

  Amelia nodded. “I agree. Right now, New Orleans is not a safe place for you. It’s not a safe place for anyone while the Baroqueth are combing the streets. I’m glad I was reading futures at a shop nearby when Syn picked up on the presence of the one tailing him and Briella and alerted me.”

  Taryn settled a hand on Gabriella’s shoulder when she went rigid. She didn’t say a word, but he felt her fear at the mention of an impending threat.

  “How were you able to deter the Baroqueth?” Gabriella asked.

  Amelia patted the leather pouch at her hip. “I have several different amulets and talismans. I created one for Taryn years ago that hides his essence from any Baroqueth who might cross his path. That and the wards I’ve built around his house have kept his exact location a mystery. His essence is wiped clean within a block’s radius of this property. Another talisman works through misdirection to twist the trail and lead any slayer on a wild goose—or dragon—chase.”

  Gabriella blinked. “Wow.”

  “The amulet I gave you is infused with Taryn’s blood. He was able to track you as long as you had the amulet on you, and he could see you when it was out. It’s weak in comparison, but good enough until he gives you his dragonstone.”

  “His what?”

  Taryn brushed her hair from her shoulder when she tipped her head up to him. Goddess, he would never grow tired of looking into her eyes or seeing the awe in her expression. What he’d give to kiss her again.

  “My dragonstone. Each Firestorm dragon has a dragonstone. It’s a jewel created from a dragon’s first shedding of scales. The scales fuse together and become laced with a blend of metals and gems unique to each dragon. Each Keeper bleeds into the stone as they assume the official role. It’s a blood bond, a way to connect me and my Keeper. The dragon part of me can see through the stone. It’s also a way to communicate telepathically with my Keeper over long distances, since mind-speak cuts out as the distance grows.”

  “Like cell service.”

  Taryn laughed. “Yeah, kinda like cell service. Without the hidden fees.”

  “Sounds like a commercial.” Gabriella surprised him when she placed her hand on his thigh. “So, my father bled into this jewel?”

  “Yes. And his father, and his grandfather, and so on and so forth. Keepers are a bloodline. They aren’t created when one dies out. That’s why I couldn’t believe it when I heard about you, because I knew Corvin never made it out of The Hollow. I also knew he hadn’t found a woman he wanted to create a family with.”

  When Gabriella sat in silence, Taryn realized what was running through her mind.

  “Angel, that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t be completely in love with you had he survived. He was not the type of man to neglect his responsibilities. That’s why he died. That you are even here is a true gift from the gods. One I will forever be thankful for.”

  Gabriella placed her head on his thigh. Another surprising move. Several times throughout the day, he caught whispers of her thoughts, indications of her dislike of touch. He couldn’t blame her, not after everything she’d suffered. He refrained from touching her more than necessary, allowing her the opportunity to make the decision on her own.

  But the more the day went on, the more he found her touching him of her own volition. Light brushes of her hand, nudges, closeness.

  He smoothed back her hair, relishing the silky strands and the gentle caress of her soft skin when he touched her face.

  “I’ve always wondered how my life would’ve been if my father was around. Even though my mother said he was an abusive, sadistic ass, I still wondered. I really wish I had the chance to meet him, now that I’m learning how much of a lie my life’s been.”

  “Well, he definitely lives inside you.”

  Baby steps was the theme of the day. They were taking baby steps toward Gabriella
’s recovery. He hoped. He saw her appreciation when he allowed her to make decisions, and supported her when she experienced uncertainty.

  A lifetime of abuse couldn’t be forgotten overnight, as much as he wanted to take it all away.

  With some of Amelia’s herbal concoctions to help with her bouts of anxiety and his successful attempts of distraction, seeing Gabriella find comfort in him proved they were going in the right direction.

  “Would you like me to bring in some tea?” Amelia asked.

  “I’ve put Syn to work. He’s gathering snacks and drinks. Gabe is flying back to be here when Cade arrives. Unfortunately, until all the Keepers, possible lifemates, and civilians who escaped The Hollow are found, we can’t completely leave this world. We won’t abandoned them, but finding them has proven a challenge even for Cade.”

  “I think it would be smart of you and Syn to bring Gabby and Briella back to The Hollow. You can help the others in their searches, but your lifemates don’t have the luxury of springing wings and escaping like you do. Your powers have no hold in this world. It’s only a matter of time before they launch a new attack. You were lucky to escape last time.” Amelia leveled a serious look at Taryn. “You may not be lucky again. I’ve told you this many times.”

  Taryn looked around, ensuring no dangling weapons were in range before he said, “Yes, Mom.”

  Amelia scowled.

  Gabriella poked his leg. “Be nice.”

  “Really?” Taryn groaned. “Now you hex my lifemate to side with you because there’s no herb bundles to hit me with?”

  Gabriella sat up and shot him a curious look.

  “She hates it when I call her Mom. And I usually get smacked in the head with some sort of plant.” He snickered. “I always wanted a sister. Now I’m glad I didn’t have one.”