Not His Dragon Page 12

  But worst of all, being in her classroom when the knock came at the door. A police officer asking for her.

  Sweat coated her skin. She recalled the sadness in the policewoman’s eyes as she accompanied Angie to the principal’s office where she sat on the hardwood chair and listened to the empty news of her parents’ accident.

  She was alone.

  Alone forever. After that day, when she’d been sick no one had wiped her brow with a cool cloth. When she’d gotten good grades, there was no one to run home to with the report card. When she’d gotten in trouble, she had no one to bail her out of jail.

  “Angie? Angie?” Eoin shook her as his voice invaded her memories.

  She opened her eyes. He leaned so close, concern clear in his face. She wiped her face clean and gave him a watery smile.

  He gathered her into a tight hug. “Nothing, I saw nothing. Where did you go?”

  “Someplace I hate visiting.”

  “I don’t want you going back there again. You scared me.”

  She buried her face into his chest and melted against his strong body. “Fine by me.” Heat enveloped her and she shuddered as the last of her pain faded away. “What did you see?”

  “The magic couldn’t even sense your call.” He stroked her hair nice and slow, resting his cheek on top of her head.

  “Are we done?”

  “No.” He eased his hold as if reluctant to let her go. “I want to try an old way of shifting. Something we use when someone is troubled.”

  “There’s another way?” She tilted her head to the side and retreated from his arms. “No one ever mentioned this before.”

  “They probably didn’t know. The method is an old secret. Dragons and vampires are the longest living creatures on Earth, with a lot of information.”

  She rubbed her hands together to warm them. “Let’s get this over with.”

  “Picture your dragon.”

  She went still. “How am I supposed to do that when I’ve never seen my dragon?”

  “Use your imagination.”

  “Jesus, Eoin.” She closed her eyes again. “I’m terrible at these games.” What would her dragon be like? She’d be a bitch, just like her, because they were the same person—black scales like Eoin’s, sharp claws, and a kick-ass tail.

  “Reach out to her and take her hand.”

  Stretching out a mental hand, she tried to do as he asked. To her surprise the dragon did the same. She laughed and surged toward her dragon-self only to hit an invisible wall.

  Her dragon hit at the same time, claws tearing at the unseen surface. The clear image of her dragon blurred until she faded.

  Angie screamed. “No, don’t go away.”

  Eoin held her face between his hands. “You saw her?”

  She snapped her eyes open and gripped his wrists. “We couldn’t touch. Then she vanished. What does that mean?” Had she lost her dragon forever? Was Eoin right? If he was, then who were her parents?

  “It means we’re close. Let me try one more thing.” He pried her hands off his wrists and gave her space.

  She clasped her hands to her chest and tried to blow out a frustrated breath but failed in grand fashion. “Eoin.” As she backed away, he followed. “I can’t anymore.” Couldn’t he see how much she was hurting?

  He loomed with ominous purpose, and she couldn’t help but admire the trim definition of his shoulders and the corded grooves between each ripple of muscles in his arms. Compact everywhere. He was a warrior and didn’t understand the meaning of mercy. Reaching his fingers toward some invisible force around her, he tried to rip it apart with his bare hands.

  Something tugged at her hard and she stumbled. Her pulse jackrabbited in her throat. He was right. Whatever he was doing was affecting her. Searing pain tore through her chest. She arched her torso to relieve the pressure. “Stop!” She shouted into the quiet mountaintop.

  Eoin dropped his arms.

  Instantly the pain disappeared. She rested her hands on her knees and caught her breath.

  “We’ll have to reach out to my people. Someone might have a better idea.” He touched her hair.

  She flinched. “No.” Enough was enough. Tears streamed along her cheeks unchecked. She straightened her back. “Don’t you think I’ve tried? Don’t you think I’d give anything to shift?” Her throat ached from restraining her sobs. “Some things can’t be fixed. Whatever you were doing was killing me.” She doubted a strange dragon would care if it killed her in the name of curiosity. “No more, Eoin.” Taking a shaky breath, she hugged herself. “No more, okay?” She hated the smallness of her voice.

  Eoin wrapped his hand around her wrist. Sparks tingled along her skin where they made contact, lighting her nerve endings with sensation as he stroked her inner wrist with his thumb. Molten desire slid through her body. His other hand wrapped around the back of her neck in a gentle caress. “Okay,” he whispered.

  Eoin was more than aware of Angie. Mere inches separated their bodies. Her scent coiled around him, calling to his unmated nature. His blood felt thick in his veins.

  “I can take care of myself. I don’t need your help.”

  Ignoring her automatic knee jerk response, he began to stroke along her graceful neck. He let his fingers travel over her soft, wet cheekbones, her stubborn chin, the lushness of her lips. He drank her in and she tasted like his. He lowered his head. Gods, those lips were even softer than he imagined.

  She thawed and molded her body to his, submitting to his need to care for her. He knew how hard he’d pushed her and was more determined to make things right even if she refused his help. She nibbled his lower lip before sucking it between her teeth. Surrendering in his arms, she opened her mouth. Her tongue touched his for a fleeting moment and disappeared again.

  He wanted to explode, to push her to the ground and claim her as his, but not until he healed her from the pain he’d caused. He needed his Angie back. The spitfire, crazed woman who had pepper-sprayed him in the eyes and never apologized. He kissed her again—playful and light—and he sensed the tension in her body relax.

  She pushed up onto her tiptoes to deepen the kiss. Her tongue returned and he sucked on the tip gently. Then he followed it back to her mouth where she did the same. It became a game and finally the clouds of fear in Angie’s beautiful face cleared as she smiled against his lips.

  He drew away. Using his thumb, he forced her chin up so their eyes could meet. He saw the sun and moon and stars in her smile. Such a smile was worth all his protection. “I know you can take care of yourself. You always have.” He tried to keep his tone normal, but his heart broke along with hers. He needed her to know something, though. “But you’re not alone anymore.”

  Her smile faded a bit. “You say that now, but in time, you’ll leave as well.” She retreated from his arms as her damn phone rang. She answered before he could intervene. “Hello? Yes, this is she. Who’s this?” Her brows furrowed and she blocked her unused ear with her finger to concentrate on the other voice on the line. “What set off the alarm?”

  Eoin gathered their lunch back in the bag. It sounded like their field trip was over. If she thought this conversation was finished, she was in for a shock. Try as she might to shut him out, she didn’t realize how good he was at tearing down doors.

  Angie returned her phone to her pocket. “That was the alarm company for the shop. They think someone tried to break in. They dispatched the cops. Everything looks untouched but they can’t shut off the fucking alarm. I swear that building is going to put me in an early grave.”

  “You need to go back.” He hid his disappointment. Her life revolved around her business.

  She nodded. “Can you fly that distance again so soon?”

  He snorted. “No problem.” His body didn’t ache from exertion. It was from sexual tension and constant denied release. “I’ll go with you, then we can discuss this over dinner.”

  She shook her head. “Ryota’s pack runs the security company. Your pres
ence will cause trouble.”

  He scowled. “Contrary to your belief, I can control myself.” Not to mention, he didn’t want to leave her alone if Ryota showed his face.

  She set her hand over his heart. “I’m not worried about you. Werewolves can be so touchy. The last thing I need is one of them thinking he can make a name for himself and attacking you, or worse, calling Ryota over.”

  “You don’t want to see him?” He wished he could swallow his tongue sometimes. But by the all the gods he’d ever heard of, he needed to know.

  “No, I already have a headache and I doubt a ringing alarm will make me feel any better.” She stroked his chest absentmindedly. “Can I take a rain check?”

  He gathered her against his thrumming body. Each caress making it harder to let her go. “Fuck, yes.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Eoin sat in his tower workroom, staring at the painting of Angie’s aura again. He remembered her cool lips timidly touching his, her sweet flavor, the tangle of their tongues pure aphrodisiac. What was he going to do? Where to begin…a hundred scenarios came to mind, starting with making good use of the bed he never slept in.

  No female had ever infiltrated his heart so thoroughly as Angie Weldon. A thin line of smoke trailed from the cigarette hanging from his lip. It obscured his view so he tossed it in the pile of ash left from his bonfire.

  Anxiety chewed at his innards. Maybe he shouldn’t have kissed her so soon. She’d made it clear that she didn’t want a relationship with a shifter, but as said shifter, he didn’t give a shit. She was as much a shifter as he was. The arms of the chair creaked under his straining fingers. He’d probably wrecked everything. No, it wasn’t his fault. It was Ryota’s. He’d wrecked everything.

  She didn’t harbor feelings for the alpha. If anything, she acted like she couldn’t stand Ryota. Eoin could understand the sentiment.

  The faint scent of death drifted into the room. Only the whispered sound of shoes scuffing against the stone announced the arrival of the vampire. “You missed our appointment.”

  Eoin grimaced and turned to face his vampire friend. “I forgot.” He’d been going to Viktor’s tattoo parlor for the past decade. There weren’t many people alive that Eoin would trust to ink his flesh.

  Viktor strode into Eoin’s workroom and stared at the painting. “I like the new turn in your work. It’s much more cheerful.” He still spoke with a light Russian accent even after living in this country for longer than Eoin.

  “I don’t recall asking for your opinion.”

  “No, but you did ask for this information.” The vampire held out a manila envelope.

  Eoin snatched and set it on his lap. “You work fast.”

  Viktor shrugged. “I have excellent connections. Why the interest in the girl?”

  Stroking the envelope, Eoin struggled not to tear it open. The information didn’t belong to him but he had to know where she’d come from. If he wanted to mend things between him and Angie, the best course of action was to help her discover the truth. “None of your business.” This belonged to Angie. The least he could do was wait to read it with her.

  “Whatever. You’ll tell me eventually and I’ve all the time in the world.” Viktor turned his back on the painting and lifted up his shirt. Across his flanks and down his back read a list of names. “I need you to carve a new name into my flesh.”

  “What happened?” Eoin leaned forward in his chair. “You haven’t killed anyone in years.”

  The vampire wrote the names of his victims on his skin in penance. Some of the names were as simple as sod behind bar or boy unattended. Viktor had been trying for a very long time to learn to drink without actually killing his victims. He’d been a poor study. It was amazing he hadn’t been caught and staked by now.

  Viktor hung his head, his long black hair shadowing his face. “I don’t know. My date invited me back to her home and things got out of control.” He shook his head. “I got out of control.” He handed Eoin a vial of ink. This special vial was mixed with dragon blood since regular ink wouldn’t stain his skin and Eoin’s blood burned the color into permanence. Victor also needed something strong and sharp enough to pierce his flesh.

  Eoin allowed his pointer finger to shift so his long sharp claw grew. He hissed at the dull pain that radiated up his arm. Partial shifts were slow, which made it painful. “What’s her name?”

  Viktor approached him pulling his shirt off. “Victoria Smith.”

  Eoin dipped the tip of his index claw into the vial and scratched the girl’s name under the list on Victor’s right flank. He didn’t bleed and his skin sizzled on contact.

  Jaw clenched, Viktor didn’t utter a sound during the slow process. Once it was done, he sighed. “Sorry.” It seemed like everyone was sorry for something nowadays. The new mark healed before Eoin’s eyes. Viktor then threw himself on the floor next to Eoin’s chair and leaned against the piece of furniture. “You never miss an appointment.”

  Eoin concentrated on his claw, retracting it back into his fingertip. “I’ve been distracted.” He grunted in relief as the shift ended.

  “What’s her name?”

  “What makes you think it’s a woman?” Viktor was one of the first friends Eoin had made when he moved to New Port. The vampire had shown up at his castle to size up the competition. They had more in common than either would rather admit. Both were artists, both were very long-lived, and both were isolated from their kind. “Her name is Angie.”

  “So it is the human girl.” Viktor rocked with amusement. “How did she get you so tied up in knots? Is she that good in bed?” Viktor twisted to share a salacious grin. “More importantly, are you willing to share?”

  Eoin’s hand moved as if it had a life of its own and slapped the vampire across the head before either had seen the movement.

  “I’ll leave that subject alone.” Viktor rubbed his head.

  “I don’t share.” Eoin stood up and gestured for the vampire to follow. “My agent and my gallery manager have asked me to expand my horizons. You know how well old races are at learning new tricks.” He abandoned the painting and led Viktor downstairs to his sculpting workshop. He opened the door and bowed to let Viktor in ahead of him. The statues still radiated heat but had solidified.

  Upon entering the room, the vampire waved his hand in front of his nose. “Smells like sulfur. Who did you barbecue?”

  “Neither my agent or manager.” There was a growl to his voice. No matter how much he would like to set flame to both of them at present, he knew deep down inside that they were trying to help him in their human fashion. Everything fast and furious—now, now, now.

  Viktor paused and assessed his work from a distance. “This is a different medium for you.” He strolled around the room and between statues, touching, poking at the material. “What seems to be the issue?”

  Eoin tossed his hands in the air and stormed across the room, knocking the prickly statue on its side. Some of the points shattered on contact and skidded across the scorched stone floor. “They’re horrid.” What was everybody seeing in these abominations? “It has been remarked my paintings are emotionless and cold. I lost my temper and created that thing sitting on my front lawn. Lorenzo loves it and has canceled my painting exhibit so he can show my new statues.” He opened his arms out and spun slowly. This would be the end of his career in the art world. He’d be a laughingstock, and worse, his clan would be right. Dragons shouldn’t be artists.

  Viktor shook his head. “These works are visceral.” He fingered the one full of sharp edges and punctured his fingertips. A drop of dark, almost black, blood beaded on his fingertip. “It’s almost like a kick to the balls. There’s a lot the emotion in this work. Maybe you should try using your new love interest as a model. She may inspire something different. Something not so…” He held up his healing fingertip. “Sharp.”

  Eoin ground his teeth. “I can’t—” He bared his teeth. “I can’t blow fire at the moment. I burned myself out,
I think.” Huffing, Eoin bent forward as if to blow flame.

  Viktor dodged to the side. “I’m flammable, jackass.”

  A cough was all that Eoin produced. No smoke, no spark, and definitely no flame. “See? No danger. It stopped last night and I haven’t been able to rekindle my spark.” He paced the room, rubbing his head over and over again. His calloused hands barely felt the short stubble.

  “Maybe it’s stress.” Victor shrugged.

  Rolling his stiff shoulders, Eoin nodded. “That’s possible. I have enough of it.” He’d never heard of a dragon losing his fucking flame. If it were permanent, he’d be a dead dragon. His people tended to attack first and ask questions later. Kind of like how he’d met Angie.

  A dark laugh echoed in Eoin’s workspace and had both of them spinning about face. “I’m not surprised to hear about your impotence, Eoin.” The man blocking Eoin’s doorway should be the cover model for Stinking Rich Assholes magazine. His black hair looked like he’d only run his fingers through it, but Eoin knew this dragon probably kept a stylist chained in his dungeon. His tailored suit fit him so perfectly that Eoin’s sagging jeans wanted to cry in shame. When had the old dragon started wearing modern clothes? Last he’d seen Cedric, the bastard had been still chasing women in his kilt.

  So this night could get worse.

  “How did you get into my home?” The other dragon had been a thorn under Eoin’s scales for as long as he could remember.

  Cedric crossed his arms and leaned against the frame. “You have no security. No gates, no guards, no alarm system. How can you live in such a dump?” He made a distasteful face. “You don’t guard your treasure well.” He tsked.

  “What I consider valuable, other dragons wouldn’t want.” Eoin sensed Viktor moving further to the side so he could flank Cedric in case of an attack. The vampire proved to be a better and better friend.

  The old dragon shouldn’t be in Eoin’s city. At least, not without his permission. He hadn’t been out to check his perimeter spells since running into Angie. The fucking old dragon must have disabled them somehow. Eoin kept a close eye on the other male. “I don’t remember extending you an invitation to enter my territory.” New Port was not considered desirable by dragon standards. There were no volcanoes, or glaciers, or oceans. It was also overpopulated, modern, and stank. He couldn’t imagine Cedric wanting to take over his territory.