by Lauren Smith
The names these guys give themselves…
He’d had his gun loaded with silver, ready for things to go pear-shaped, but fortunately nothing had happened. Still, he felt safe enough to holster his gun only now that he was back at headquarters. Werewolves and other corruptions had tempers and serious aggression issues.
One would think the word corruption was a derogatory term the Brotherhood had come up with, but in fact it came from the shifters themselves. For some reason no one was really sure of anymore, shifters like werewolves and vampires were referred to as corruptions, but not others like dragons or the thunderbirds of old. The Brotherhood’s official stance was that it had to do with the means of their creation. Magic was at the heart of every shifter, but corruptions could pass on their condition through a bite, like an infection, and this seemed to be something that the dragons and other preternatural creatures felt was not normal.
But corruptions were also the ones the Brotherhood had more personal contact with. He was even considering allowing a few of the more levelheaded ones out there into their ranks to help act as liaisons as well as enforcers. Dragons, though, refused to have anything to do with the Brotherhood. And that was a problem, especially now.
As he walked into the lobby, he saw his brother, Jason, leaning against the front desk, flirting with the receptionist. Once he saw Damien, however, he straightened and dropped the receptionist cold, much to her chagrin. “Everything go all right tonight?”
“Fine. Kept me on my toes, though. Archer Falls is one scary bastard.” Damien chuckled.
“The panther shifter from New York?”
“That’s the one. How about here? Quiet night?” He and his brother walked shoulder to shoulder through the halls.
“Yeah, nothing major. The weres and vamps are all nice and quiet. Nothing at the usual hot spots, bars and run-down motels. I thought for sure we’d have a vamp nest or two to bust into, you know?”
Damien sighed. “You know when it’s nice and quiet that means something big is probably in the works, right?”
Jason shrugged. “Well, we can’t worry about it until we know what’s going on.”
Damien punched his brother in the shoulder. “And that’s exactly why you aren’t running the show.”
Jason gave him a mocking sneer. “Ha ha.”
“Come up to my office, and we’ll have a beer. I’m wound tighter than hell after tonight.”
They waited at the elevator bay. “You hear from Charlotte yet? She’s supposed to be in New York by now.”
“No. She hasn’t called you?” There was a ding as the elevator doors opened. Damien got in, and Jason followed.
“No. That’s what I’m saying. She hasn’t checked in. That’s not like her. You know how lonely she gets when she goes to those out-of-town conferences. She always calls.” Jason shoved his hands in his pockets, frowning.
Damien’s stomach began to knot. The week before Charlotte left she’d been distant and quiet. Neither he nor Jason had been able to get her to cheer up. He’d been an idiot and ignored his baby sister all night to talk to Jason about dragons, and she’d been upset. He’d thought her feelings had only been bruised a bit, but maybe the damage was deeper than that. She hated being left out of the loop, especially being denied the chance to work at the Brotherhood. But that was something he would never change his mind on, even if she grew to hate him for it. As long as she was safe, he kept his promise to his parents intact.
The elevator stopped at the top floor. The office at the end of the hall was Damien’s. It was elegantly decorated, sleek and modern, with a view of the Detroit River. It was winter now, and thick chunks of ice were floating south. During the coldest months, it was one of Detroit’s nicer natural wonders. It was always incredibly blue.
“Why don’t you call her?” Damien said.
Jason pulled out his phone and dialed. He placed the phone on speaker, and they listened to it ring. It went to voicemail.
Jason ended the call and pocketed his phone. “Trace it.”
Damien took a seat at his desk and logged into the Brotherhood’s secure mainframe. He accessed their tracking systems. Everyone in the organization plus their family members had special locator chips in their phones for emergencies. It wasn’t unusual for a family member of a hunter to be kidnapped by those looking for either leverage or revenge.
The trace gave GPS coordinates that matched Charlotte’s apartment in Detroit.
“She’s not in New York,” Jason growled. “Where is she?”
“Hang on.” Damien pulled up a new menu and typed in a code he’d memorized.
His brother leaned over Damien’s chair, peering at the screen. “What’s that?”
“My backup. Remember that Coach suitcase we bought her for Christmas? I put another transmitter in the lining.” He tapped his finger on the desk anxiously as a blue sphere rotated on the screen, indicating it was searching.
“You bugged Charlotte’s luggage?” Jason grinned.
“Better safe than sorry.” Damien almost smiled, but when the screen changed and the coordinates popped up, his heart stopped.
“Looks like your bug’s got a bug in it.” Jason’s usually good humor was subdued.
“No, it’s working fine.”
“Then what the hell is she doing in Moscow? She’s never been out of the country.”
Damien knew. She’d gone to Moscow because of what he and Jason had been talking about last week. They had been discussing their concerns about an imminent dragon war in Russia. Jason had been in charge of trying to lure Rurik somewhere he could be contained safely and questioned about the situation. But Rurik continued to slip out of the Brotherhood’s grasp. Had Charlotte gotten the idea into her head that she could bring in a dragon? Surely she wasn’t that foolish. But the second the memory of her hurt gaze flashed in his mind, he knew the truth. She wasn’t thinking straight. She’d rushed off to Moscow to catch a dragon to prove him and Jason wrong.
Shit.
“She’s gone after the dragons. I don’t know what her plan is, but that’s the only thing I can think of.”
“You mean…the Barinovs? Is she nuts? She’s not a hunter.”
“I know.” Damien rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. “Call Meg in, along with whoever else is in the building. I want a task force assembled in ten minutes.”
“Consider it done.” Jason sprinted from the room.
Damien stared hard at the screen.
“What the fuck are you doing, Charlotte?” The weight of his past and his burdens settled even more heavily upon his shoulders. When their parents had been killed, Damien had taken over the Brotherhood and had vowed to protect his sister at any cost, even if it meant protecting her from herself. He’d already lost Serena to this life. He wouldn’t lose his baby sister too.
But dragons? How could he protect her if she was already in their territory?
Ten minutes later, he faced a team of the best hunters in North America. Meg Stratford stood close to his desk, her red hair pulled back in a ponytail. She was alert, even though it was getting late. Next to her were Nicholas Rubin, Tamara Gilbert, Jason, and Kathryn Rubin.
“We have an extraction situation, and time is of the essence. We’re going to Moscow.”
Meg’s eyes widened. “Why us? Why not let Saint Petersburg handle it?”
“I would, but I don’t trust anyone else to handle this.”
“Who’s the target?” Nicholas, one of the trackers, asked.
Damien frowned, unable to hide the truth from them. “Charlotte MacQueen.”
Meg’s face paled. “Charlotte?” She and Charlotte were close friends.
“I’m afraid it gets worse. We’re going to be facing dragons, the royal Barinov house.”
“Russian Imperials. Aren’t they the ones Saint Petersburg were trying to extract information from?” Tamara said. She shared a look with Nicholas, the magical tracker she partnered with.
“Right, but the
Drakors, the other Russian dragon line, also operate in Moscow—or used to. A few months ago, the Barinovs all but wiped out the Drakor line. As of right now we’re still sketchy on how that happened or if it’s going to stop. Historically, the Barinovs haven’t been troublemakers, but we can’t take the chance that that hasn’t changed. With the Drakors all but extinct, a new dragon clan might sense the power vacuum in Moscow and make a play or form an alliance against the Barinovs. The situation is tense and incredibly volatile, and it’s why Saint Petersburg were keen on interviewing one of the Barinovs. I’ll send you all reports on the two dragon families tonight, as well as any other potential players. We leave at dawn.”
The hunters and trackers left, but Jason and Meg stayed behind. She was biting her lip, something she rarely did. Damien had known her since she was a child, and it was obvious something was bothering her.
“What is it?” Damien stood, facing her. Meg rarely showed any nerves, but she looked ready to bolt.
“You’re going to kill me for this, but I think it’s my fault that Charlotte is in Russia.”
“What? Why?” Jason demanded.
“When I was in London tracking the Belishaw dragons, I came across something.” She turned on her cell and pulled up a picture of a needle in an evidence bag. “I found this at the scene. It was in that Sinclair dragon’s other house, a residence he kept a secret from the public.”
Damien nodded. He remembered all too well Meg’s report on the British member of Parliament who’d managed to hide his identity as a dragon for centuries. Sinclair had designs to take out or subdue the Belishaw family in a power struggle. He had been killed by one of the Barinov dragons, Mikhail.
“You found that where you said Sinclair tortured Randolph Belishaw,” Damien clarified.
“Yes. Whatever was in this needle weakened Randolph Belishaw and cancelled out his ability to heal. I’ve never heard of such a thing before. When he looked at me, he looked human. His eyes didn’t have that otherworldly glow. Whatever was in this, it made him vulnerable.”
For a long second Damien didn’t speak. If Meg was right, this drug was a game changer. And in the wrong hands it could be incredibly dangerous.
“How does Charlotte fit into this?” Jason asked, crossing his arms.
“When I got back stateside, I didn’t submit the evidence to our lab. I’m sorry, Damien, but this drug could be a potential dragon killer. I didn’t want just anyone to have access to that. You talk a good game when it comes to peace, and you keep your promises, but if someone else took over tomorrow, it could be a different story. We could be ordered to kill our enemies on sight, like they did back in the fifties. I didn’t want to hand that kind of power over until I knew we could use it wisely.” She looked down, her face flushed. “So I called in Charlotte. I wanted her to examine the formula on the sly. She was going to see if she could reverse-engineer the drug based on the notes we found at the crime scene.”
“So you recruited our sister,” Jason growled. “You know we kept her out of this life on purpose—so shit like this doesn’t happen!”
“Jason,” Damien warned him. His little brother had more of a temper, but Damien had learned patience. He had lost too much as a young man.
Meg’s defiance grew. “Listen, I didn’t tell her to go to Russia. She was supposed to stay here. I don’t know how she got it in her head to…” She paused a moment, and her eyes began to water. “This can’t be my fault. It can’t…”
“Not looking like that from where I sit,” Jason huffed.
“It’s all right, Meg.” Damien’s chest tightened with guilt at upsetting her. She was one of his best hunters. He never should have let her get so close to Charlotte over the years. “Right now what matters is figuring out our next step. So knowing Charlotte, she succeeded in developing this drug. Now what, she’s run off to test it out? Why didn’t she go after one in America?”
“You guys have been obsessing over the Barinovs for weeks, given the powder keg that area is right now. She’s probably trying to prove herself to you by getting what you can’t—an interview with a Barinov.”
Damien sighed, looking back and seeing the pieces laid bare before him and how they fit together. She had seen the file he had left at their house a week ago. It had pictures of the three brothers. And they’d been talking shop at home far more than usual. But still, this wasn’t like her. Charlotte was always so calm, so well behaved.
Shit.
Meg chuckled. “Besides, the Barinovs are freaking gorgeous, so that’s a perk. I can respect that.”
Jason struggled for words. “But Charlotte isn’t…”
Meg snorted. “Isn’t what? A hot-blooded woman? You do realize you two have made her dating life impossible.”
“Now hold on,” said Damien.
“Oh, spare me, Damien. You had me tail her on half a dozen dates and run background checks on three boyfriends while I was in training. And I know for a fact you scared one of them off with a friendly ‘talk,’ Jason. I’m sure in your little macho brotherly heads you’re just looking out for her best interests and don’t even realize that you were smothering her. Hell, she’s probably still a virgin. If I’d been in her position, I would have run at those dragon hotties myself.”
Both Damien and Jason froze at this.
A virgin? He went over the list of her boyfriends. She’d never seemed to be that close to any of those men. Was it possible…?
“Fuck,” Jason muttered. “She’s like candy-coated ecstasy. They won’t be able to stay away from her. Did you tell her about that? How virgins are like catnip to dragons?”
Meg shook her head. “Look, I was trying to help her prove her worth to you meatheads, but strictly in a research capacity. I’d never encourage her to go into the field. We just talked about the serum…” Her eyes widened as a new revelation dawned on her. “And I might have let her analyze the synthetic dragon pheromone we’ve been working on.”
“So let’s just recap for a moment,” Jason added sarcastically. “Charlotte has created a dragon-suppression serum, she’s headed into a preternatural war zone, she’s a virgin, and oh yeah, she’s got her hands on a dragon love potion? Great—just fucking great.”
Damien raked a hand through his hair. “She’s going to be fine. She’s only been there a day at most. She might not have even made contact yet. We can extract her before she gets too close. She’s not a trained agent. She won’t be able to get into too much trouble before we arrive.”
“Right,” Meg echoed, but he sensed her disbelief.
“She’ll be fine. She’s probably asleep in her hotel right now.” He hoped. Or else he would rain fire down on those damned Russian dragons.
“Meg, I want you to swing by the lab Charlotte was working in and grab any of the serum she might have left behind. We could use any help we can get.” Taking on the Barinovs would be dangerous if it came down to that, and they’d need every advantage they could get to bring their baby sister home.
24
Marveling at his own boldness, he said softly, “I would enter your sleep if I could, and guard you there, and slay the thing that hounds you, as I would if it had the courage to face me in fair daylight. But I cannot come in unless you dream of me.” ―Peter S. Beagle, The Last Unicorn
Charlotte was having the most exquisite dream. It was snowing outside, and she was in a warm bed, the curtains half-closed, and a man was kissing her neck. His hot body was flush against hers from behind. She let out a soft moan of pleasure and tilted her head to give him better access to the sensitive spot just behind her ear, which sent powerful shivers down the rest of her body.
“Yes,” she whispered in encouragement. Her dream lover murmured something she couldn’t understand, and his dark, warm chuckle against her ear made her feel like she was doing something wicked in the best possible way.
She pushed back the covers and searched for his hand. When her fingers curled around his wrist, she guided his hand to the waistband o
f her panties and pajama bottoms.
“There? You’re sure?” he asked.
“Yes.” She rubbed her bottom against his groin, teasing the hard shaft by rubbing it against the cleft of her ass. “Touch me.” She closed her eyes, allowing her body’s senses to take over. The rustle of the sheets, the mix of his sighs and hers, and his smell, darkly masculine with a hint of pine and winter, wrapped around her. It was the most erotic dream she’d ever had. She’d never had a dream that felt this good—or this real. She wasn’t about to waste a single minute.
“Be patient, little one.” Her lover’s rough laugh sent shivers of longing through her. She wanted him to take her, to shove her flat on the bed beneath him and take her so completely that she felt owned.
She tried to move his hand again. “Please…I need…” Her clit was throbbing, and her channel was wet and ready.
“Oh, little rose, how you torture me,” he rasped as he sank his teeth into the sensitive area between her neck and shoulder. The possessive hold made her whimper, but not from pain. The bite rooted her in place, and her body went limp with pleasure at how safe she felt while being so incredibly aroused.
He slipped his hand beneath her panties and cupped her mound, then explored her folds with his fingertips. She wiggled, encouraging him to plunge his fingers inside her, but he resisted, and she was held still by his gentle but firm bite. When he finally slid one finger into her, the ripples of building pleasure began in earnest. He toyed with her, thrusting, withdrawing, and then his fingertip brushed over a spot that made her jolt and her belly quiver.
He let go of her shoulder to speak. “This, right here?”
“Yes, right there!” she gasped, and he began to rub on that spot deep inside. He pushed a second finger in, and the tightness gave way when he kept rubbing on that spot. His hips pushed hard against her ass as he rocked against her from behind. He continued to torture her with his fingers while nibbling on her neck.
“Bite me again, please!” she begged. There was something about the way he did that. She needed more of it.