by Marie Harte
“Crap, that really hurts.” Jentaron roared his displeasure, but continued to communicate telepathically. He flapped his wings and flexed his fragile claws. “Now show me how you turn human so we can collect Eve.”
Shaking his head at his brother’s one-track mind, Ranton did as asked. His own maturation into a large, fully grown male had taken a year, a full ten years faster than most dragons. His brother, apparently, didn’t intend to wait on nature.
Jentaron shifted slowly into a human-shaped body. He looked more like Ranton than Teban. But where both Ranton and Teban were dark, Jentaron had white-blond hair. His eyes, too, were different. Dark blue with silver flecks, decidedly not human.
“You’ll have to wear dark glasses if we go out in public.” Ranton nodded up.
“When we go out. When Eve works above ground, one of us has to be with her at all times.”
“Excuse me? One of us? Little brother, king you may be, but Eve is mine.”
“Technically.” Jentaron waved away his concern and tried walking on unsteady legs. “This is so awkward. How do they move about without hind legs? And no wings or tail for balance?”
Ranton snorted. “Yes, but they have many other attributes that more than make up for it.”
“I know. Why do you think I matured so quickly?” He grinned, and Ranton saw himself in the gesture. Pride sparked, and love suddenly overwhelmed him. Ah, so this was the Guardian’s Bond. After several emotion-packed moments, the imprint began to fade. Ranton took a deep breath, not so quick to deny Jentaron’s desires. Love for his brother shone brightly, yet love for his demon, his sassa, could not be refuted.
“Jentaron, Eve—”
“Came when I called.” Jentaron spoke in a husky voice. “She’s yours, Ranton. I claimed her for you, so relax. I’m not about stealing her. But a part of Eve is mine as well. I love her,” he said quietly, staring into Ranton’s troubled gaze. “She’s my Guardian as well, brother. Yes,” he emphasized, noting Ranton’s surprise. “The love I have for her is deep, and different from what I feel for you.
“She’s a strong demon, and an even stronger woman. You’ve sensed her inner fire. She’s perfect for you, Ranton, and she’ll fulfill her purpose to me and to our sect in more ways than you can know.” He forestalled Ranton’s questions with an upheld hand. “She’s mine too, and I’ll say no more about it. But you can blame yourself for this.” They both stared down at Jentaron’s growing erection. “If your mind hadn’t been so strong, I might have been spared this physical hunger. But you’ve it bad for little Evil Evie.” Jentaron grinned. “By the embers, Ranton, you’re a horny bastard, aren’t you?”
Ranton chuckled, then sighed. The Guardian’s Bond had taken away much of his jealousy toward Jentaron. But he still felt the need to own Eve. He needed to cement their bond, and to make sure she knew who was truly in charge of their new family. Jentaron might rule the dragons, but Ranton would rule the roost.
He sighed, watching his brother try to push his penis down. “It doesn’t work that way.”
“How the hell do you deal with this gnawing hunger?” Jentaron cursed, one of Ranton’s favorites. “I need to fuck our sassa, and soon, before my brain explodes.”
It figured his little brother would be a huge pain in his ass. Ranton grinned wryly. And if he wasn’t mistaken, Jentaron would soon be a huge pain in Eve’s as well.
Chapter Six
Eve stared at the human jacking off while she watched with murmurs of encouragement. Before Ranton, she’d found the sight entertaining if a bit lacking in creativity. Now she just wanted him to finish before going home to his wife and three kids. Yeah, George had been easy. Hell would be waiting for this jerk with open arms.
“Thanks, George,” she whispered throatily, pleased when he sucked in his breath and did another line of coke. He toppled into his Decision, and she had a brief glimpse of him several years down the road, homeless and desperate while he stole from others to fill his filthy habit. We’ll be seeing you in the Abyss in another thirteen years.
She picked up her light jacket and left him breathing hard, slamming the door behind her. What the hell is wrong with me? Normally buzzing with joy after turning a sway, she found her recent encounter sorely lacking. She rubbed her arms, slightly chilled in the stifled hallway that had to be at least ninety degrees since the air-conditioning had gone out hours ago.
In the catacombs she’d been oppressed with heat, and with a glowering dragon so hot he’d melted her heart.
“Oh hell, I must have it bad. Melted my heart? That is so fucking trippy.”
She kicked at a moldy can of something and wondered if Ranton missed her half as much as she missed him. His bold stare, his dominant touch, the tender look in his dragon eyes after watching her come… For all that he’d pushed her around, Ranton had made her feel like she belonged. He’d possessed her, body and soul, and she still couldn’t understand how he’d done it.
Sure, he’d fucked her senseless. And she readily admired the fact he could even do that. Maybe that was the attraction. That she’d finally met a male, not a relation, who could manipulate her. And his strength. Her sex tingled as she thought about his rippling muscles. The sight of those broad wings, of those thick thighs bunching as he prepared to leap.
She sighed. And his cock felt so damned good. So long and thick inside her. So perfectly right. Power and incredible sex was so…incredibly sexy. She flushed, hoping she didn’t look as sappy as she felt.
Now she understood how some of her sways must have felt after sex with her. Utterly spellbound.
Yet it was more than the physical with Ranton. He sneered, he demanded, and he pushed until she surrendered. And he carried her protectively against him, against comfortable flesh when he could have covered himself in sharp scales. The affection he showed Jentaron seemed completely opposite what she would have expected from a dragon.
She knew enough about their species to know Carmaron was a dangerous female, to her own kind as well as to outsiders. Most dragon raised their young to be fierce, proud creatures bent on rejecting any and all but their own kind. And only the strong survived. The dragons possessed intelligence, and as much primitive reason as their ancestors, the drac demons.
But that primitive need to possess, to conquer and keep, turned her on like nothing ever had. To be held in arms strong enough to crush her, by a beast considerate enough to care for her needs before his own, ruined any resistance she might have wanted to have. Her eyes welled and she blinked hard, reminding herself she had no right to a dragon.
Different worlds. He burned and killed. She turned and swayed. He dwelt in the physical; she focused on souls. His kind had been banished from the Ordinary years ago. Her kind dwelled in both the lower and the middle realm. How could she sway souls from the lower realm? And how could he live in his natural form in the Ordinary where dragons were anything but?
She glumly turned the corner and screamed when Teban bumped into her, Duncan and James hard on his heels. “Dear hell, Teban. Don’t do that.”
“Where the hell have you been? I told you to wait for me at the bar and bam, you disappear on me. And that was yesterday.” Teban glared disdainfully around him at the peeling paper and flea-infested carpet of the rundown hotel. The air of desperation and unsated hunger clung to the walls, definitely out of place for a giant male dressed in Armani slacks and Gucci shoes.
“Evie,” Duncan breathed. “We were so worried about you.”
“Oh?” She glared at him and James, doing a double-take when she noted James’ swollen face. “What the hell happened to you?”
“Evie, I am deeply, deeply sorry.” James grabbed her elbow and dragged her down the corridor toward the steps. Duncan took her other arm and Teban brought up the rear.
“Why do I feel like I’m being led to an execution?”
Duncan’s eyes darkened, and she stopped in her tracks.
“What’s going on?”
“Asael commanded us to bring
you back, right before Teban showed up with the ‘good’ news that he’d found you.”
“Great.”
“Don’t worry, Evie,” James said. “I’m going to take full responsibility for this. It was all just a joke. We would have gotten lucky with the trio in the bar, and you would have learned a valuable lesson.”
“A lesson we should have followed—not to mess with what doesn’t concern the demon world,” Duncan finished. “But James screwed up. He planned on involving Ranton, but failed to tell me about it, and I told Teban what was going on instead. The egg was never in any danger.”
“No, because James was going to watch it twenty-four/seven, right James?” Teban asked softly.
James looked nervous, and the predatory gleam in Teban’s eyes intensified. “Right, Teban. Right. But what I was trying to say was that I’m sorry, Eve. I had no idea Ranton would get to you first.” He paused. “He didn’t, ah, hurt you, did he?”
Duncan’s eyes brightened, a neon blue filled with fire. “Because if he did, dragon or not, he’s dead.”
Teban shook his head but James stopped him with a look. “Eve?” he pressed.
“No, he didn’t hurt me.” He made me come so hard it makes me wet to think about. He made me desire him, to the point that I’m pining for a dragon when I should be focused on my job. She sighed. “He was very understanding about the whole thing.” And so freakin’ scary looking that I fell in love with the beast.
“Understanding?” Teban looked incredulous.
“Oh, well.” James coughed. “Then I guess we should say congratulations before we see Dad.”
“Congratulations?”
Teban grinned. “I told them that you’re now officially dragon property.”
“Property?”
“Hell, Eve. You knew the sex and name of a royal dragon before he was hatched. That’s almost as good as a royal claiming, by Jentaron, mind you. But that won’t happen because Ranton marked you. And if he marked you, he’s keeping you. It’s only a matter of time before he finds you again.”
James glanced cautiously around them. “Uh, Eve, if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not draw more attention than we already have. We need to go home now.”
She stared at the three males looking so hopeful. What bullshit. As if she had any choice in the matter. Her brothers wanted her to go home, to settle with Asael. Which she could appreciate. And honestly, she didn’t want another scandal in the Ordinary centered around her. She’d been gone two days, and she imagined Ranton’s fury at having been bested by a female demon had to be extreme.
Though unnerved, she had to smile. What a picture that would make, Ranton in a snit. “Okay, boys. Let’s go see Dad.”
When Teban moved to join them, she stopped.
“You’re coming with us into the Abyss?”
Teban shrugged. “Why not? Besides, I’d like to be there when Ranton tries to explain himself. I can’t decide who’ll be more fun to watch. Asael or Carmaron?”
“You’re a sick bastard, Teban.” Duncan shook his head, a smirk on his face.
“So I’ve been told.”
“I’m not following.” Eve heard them, but didn’t understand. Ranton would try to explain himself? Explain what, exactly, that whole marking thing? Funny, she didn’t see anything different in her appearance. And Teban, a dragon, voluntarily asked to join them in demon country?
“Trust me, Evie. When the shit hits the fan, no matter where you are, you’ll be right in the middle of it.” Trust James to be so succinct.
“Aren’t I always?”
Ranton growled. Jentaron was turning into the little brother from hell, which wouldn’t have been so bad if they hadn’t been forced to enter said region. Like most of the lower realm, hell, or the Abyss, as the locals called it, was dark and hot. Personally, he liked it. But the denizens of the Abyss weren’t so welcoming to anyone not demonic.
He glanced at the dark red horizon streaked with orange. He had to give it to the demons. The catacombs his kind lived within didn’t hint at anything resembling the middle realm. They lit their way using fire, and when the mood struck, they ventured above ground into the humans’ world to view the sun and the stars.
But down here, the demons mirrored the Ordinary. A black orb hung suspended in the sky—the miles of open space between the cracked plates upon which they stood and the ceiling of earth and rock above them. Gray-brown rocks streaked with blue and purple mineral dotted the landscape, providing a surprisingly beautiful palette set against the blood-red sky.
Doomed humans grimaced as they passed, led in formation by whip-wielding demons and pleasure-seeking imps. In the distance several demons farmed magic from the land, dropping the stuff into large barrels which would be transported throughout the demon’s realm, readied to barter with those needing precious mana.
“Tell me again where we’re going?”
Damn, Ranton was getting a headache. “If you’d stop whining, we’d probably be there by now.”
“Asael? Is that his name?”
“Yes. That’s the major demon pulling Eve’s strings. Now relax and follow my lead. I have enough to deal with trying to find Eve and protect you from these idiots, let alone yourself.”
Jentaron grinned. “Testy. Been too long since you’ve seen any action, hmm?”
They traveled in human form, to better fit in with those in the Abyss. No wings, no scales, and human attire—shredded cloth barely covering their bodies, like the other souls caught in hell. Problem was, the mortal form made Ranton’s urges and sexual needs that much more pronounced. He walked with a constant hard-on, Eve’s scent emblazoned on his brain.
“State your purpose here, dragons,” a uniformed demon spoke from behind them.
They turned to find a faun wearing a green-skinned vest. Hoping he didn’t recognize one of his kind over the demon’s chest, Ranton sniffed and scented only lizard hide. The demon’s tone, however, needed adjusting.
Ranton released his wings and flexed the sharpened appendages, ripping through the ratty T-shirt he’d sported, and rose in height to his normal seven feet, grunting as he did so. “Ah. That smaller form was killing me.”
Jentaron sighed and grew as well. “Me too. I guess we’re no longer trying to blend in?”
Shaking the faun by the neck, Ranton growled and leaned close. “Where do I find Asael?” He shot fire through his eyes, lighting the faun’s beard afire, and the demon quickly told them where to go.
Tossing him several feet away, Ranton slapped his hands together and took to the air. Waiting for his brother, he watched with pride as Jentaron joined him.
“Let’s get Eve.”
“Our sassa.”
Ranton cursed under his breath and straightened his unruly cock beneath his trousers. “My sassa, damn it.”
“Eventually.” Jentaron’s mouth kicked into a grin, and they sped toward the flaming hill surrounded by shrieking wraiths.
Eve stared at her father’s disapproving glare, thankful that, for once, it wasn’t directed her way.
“You let your sister take the fall for your antics? Your younger sister?”
Duncan remained silent, but James tried to explain himself. “It was a mistake. We were trying to find her when—”
“It was as much my fault as his,” Duncan muttered.
Teban stood out of the way in the shadows, not as comfortable in the light of her father’s hall. But hell, no one actually liked the light except for Eve, her brothers and her father. Since falling from heaven, Asael maintained a perpetual glow, as well as an otherworldly presence, proclaiming his Descent to all. Fallen angels made the most ferocious demons, because they alone in the lower realm knew what it was to face the abject horrors of His wrath.
“Now hold on a minute. You two stole a dragon’s egg, trying to teach your sister a lesson. But you blamed it on the angels?” He stroked his smooth face, the perfection of his features blinding at first glance. Teban, she noted, had yet to take h
is gaze from Asael. “That I commend. But your job is not to educate your sister. She is as she’s meant to be. A bit soft-hearted, true, but pure of heart.”
Eve grinned. Apparently, her father had finally forgiven her for the elementary school fiasco.
“That said, you two need to stop using Eve to break the rules. Use a little creativity, sons, and figure out a way to do it without her. Hell and damn. You want an innocent piece of ass, take it the way I took your mother. Find your own loopholes. Do I need to do everything for you?”
James and Duncan glanced away, embarrassed. Teban snickered. A mistake.
Asael’s eyes shot to Teban, assessing. “And Carmaron went along with this idiotic plan? Come here, little dragon, or should I say, dragon prince. Into the light, if you will.”
Trust her father to call Teban little. The dragon had arrived in human form, but she’d seen him as a beast. And “little” didn’t describe him, in either form.
“Uh, not exactly. Mother’s getting older, so I take charge of most of the day-to-day in the catacombs. But I will say I was misled about the situation.” Teban glared at James, who started to speak, then saw their father looking at him and shut up.
“I see. Well, then.” Asael glanced down as if in thought, but Eve caught the smirk he tried to hide. “On to justice for all. Duncan, you owe Uriel ten days of service. Ten days with that angel will seem like fifty, and as much as I loathe Uriel, I admire his ingenuity when it comes to punishment. But try to use the time to scout the enemy, if you still have your eyes and ears when he releases you.”
Duncan groaned.
“James, you’re Teban’s to do with as he will. Ten days of service he owes you, prince. Ten days of service you’ll receive.”
Teban’s smile widened, and his teeth elongated past his lips. “Thank you, Asael.”