Wading through the fire, she met Roark’s eyes, even as the dragon dug deeper, pressing him into the marble floor.
Her mate. Her everything.
The fire licked along her flesh like the caress of a lover and she sighed as she and the force within her became one.
She clutched the blade tight and kept on walking.
“Izzy…”
Without a word, she drove the dagger deep into the dragon’s heart, her phoenix fire sealing him in an unending vortex of blood and fire.
“A promise is a promise…”
***
The incessant sound of a beeping machine woke him. Roark groaned at the pain in his ribs, nearly climbing over the side of the hospital bed when the red head curled up in a ball next to him shifted in her sleep.
“Izzy?”
“Mmmm.” Her green eyes opened in time for a very pissed off nurse to come barging in the door.
“Hey.” She pressed her lips against him long enough to make him realize that not all of him was in fact, half dead.
“Okay, out of that bed, you. The man has broken ribs and you don’t need to be snuggling with him just now.”
“Listen to the nurse, Isobel. She’s wicked with a needle.” Denver called out from the next bed over, his leg in a newly minted cast. The rest of him hadn’t fared much better. But at least he was alive.
“Oh, all right.” She frowned, swinging her legs over the side and lowering her feet to the floor.
“Visiting hours are over, folks. It’s time for you two to get some sleep.”
His cat purred, anxious to finish what his mate had just started, but the stern eyed glare from the nurse had him lying back with his hands above the covers like a good boy.
She was here. The rest of the world could wait. Including the wrath of his captain for getting his ass half killed by a dragon.
“So…when are they letting you out of here?” Her eyes danced with a peculiar liquid fire.
“Two days.” His shifter constitution was already at work.
“Good.”
“Why?”
Denver’s snores filled the room and Isobel giggled. He was happy her friend had survived the fire.
She traced a finger down his tattoo and his cat shivered. “How much longer will you be in here, do you think?”
“Not too much longer.” His cock leapt as her hand brushed his thigh.
“Good. I have some plans.”
“Mmmm.” He was ready to go at it right now, the way his body was straining under the sheet.
If I lock the door and pull the curtain, no one will know. I’ll be careful. Promise.
“I really do like the way you think.”
“How long do you figure it will take her to come back in here and throw me out?”
“Two minutes.”
The sound of the door locking made him smile. “Well, then. I better rescue you. Stat.”
She tugged the curtain between the two beds, and sauntered toward him. The short skirt she wore rode high on her thighs and when she tugged the sheet down to free him, she revealed another secret.
“My, my, no underwear. Such a naughty little mate.”
“Not as naughty as I’m going to be,” she whispered as she lowered herself carefully on top of him.
Her deft fingertips guided him inside her and she began to move, the sound of the machines fading as his mate showed him what it meant to fly.
The End…for now.
Stay tuned for more adventures in the Gibbous Moon Series.
Turn the page for a taste of Burning Midnight by Erzabet Bishop...
The dreams of the heart may be the darkest of all…
Kissed by the moon…
Diana Robichard runs Moon Called, an antique shop specializing in cursed objects. A new antiquity falls into her possession and promptly disappears, her tidy world is upended. When faced with a threat to those she loves the most, witchcraft alone may not be enough to save them. Blood vows and shadowy magic may hold the key, but the ultimate power might just be in the darkest recesses of her heart.
A wolf unleashed…
Alpha wolf, Aristide Benoit, is a wolf on a mission. When multiple pack members, and finally his daughter, go missing, he is ready to do whatever is necessary to find them. A pending war with the vampires looms in the distance but a blacker danger lies closer to home. Will the sexy witch destined to be his mate be his downfall, or his salvation?
Blood and fire…
Vampire Regent, Rand Sinclair, has a problem. His vault is missing an amulet never meant to see the light of day. Endangering a treaty with the wolves, he must act quickly before the woman he loves is swept into an ancient curse that will destroy them all. But can he make room in his heart and embrace a love that can set them all free?
A taste from Burning Midnight
Prologue
Cold November rain pelted mercilessly against the windows. Just for a moment Jonathan sat, trying to forget the pain in his legs as he watched the silvery droplets slide down the glass. Memories of chilly afternoons and old sodden sneakers stirred and he had a sudden urge to run through the puddles that gathered in the parking lot below. In the old days he could jump in with both feet. He took great joy in it, in fact. Jonathan moved his head and the wrinkled face of a life well lived came into view. Old fool.
Jonathan snorted and stared at the too perfect form of his wife and daughter sitting in the chair across from him. Her eyes glittered in the dim light, alive and glowing. It was unnatural how still she sat, not quite breathing. Her skin was luminous, almost paper white and he reflected yet again how uncanny it was how much she'd changed in the last few years. Almost as if time had reversed itself and had given her bonus points.
His daughter too, was an unnatural child, the mountain of spell books in her room mirrored that of her mother and he couldn’t help but wonder if he’d been duped this entire time.
He’d worked hard to give her a house, even if it was his family’s old home in the middle of the woods. To him it didn’t matter. But would bet with every breath left in his body that she was counting the days until he died so she could be out in the open with her meetings and secrecy.
It wasn't like she didn't deserve it, he supposed. Gone was the woman he'd left at home so he could go out carousing with the boys from work. The frump he left minding their daughter while he found comfort in the beautiful faces of strangers. But those days were over. The parties. The revelry. They were images in the movie reel of his life. Now he was faced with endless expanse of nothing and it was making him insane.
It was almost as if he’d picked a vampire for a bride instead of the witch stock he knew she hailed from. But why couldn’t she have spent some of her hedge witchery and found him a cure for what ailed him?
No, what he wanted was his bones to stop throbbing, but that was too much to ask for. He should have gone back to bed, but his wife had surprised him, ushering him out the door into the wet with little explanation. The last few months all it took was a good rain to get his joints aching. This ceaseless waiting had his patience frayed at the edges. Restless and edgy, he pressed the side of his forehead against the cool glass and stared out into the gray afternoon, wanting to be anywhere but here. Another waiting room. Another hospital. Another enhancement for his wife. My God, he was married to the Bride of fucking Frankenstein.
And all his daughter Joanna did was draw. The same damned picture of a necklace, sticking it all over the refrigerator like she’d won some sort of prize.
When he’d asked her about it, she’d merely given him one of her mother’s secretive smiles.
“One day, Daddy.”
He had seen his share of doctors. His body betraying him a little more each day and she had the audacity to sit there in front of him in all of her icy perfection, not once meeting his eyes. It galled him to the core, and in moments like that, he loathed her. Hated her for showing him up when he was used to having the upper hand.
“Ah, how lovely to see y
ou here again Mrs. Lisle.” The nurse erupted into the waiting room and guided them back to the familiar carpeted hallways of the surgeon's offices. “Mr. Lisle, I trust you are well today.”
Jonathan clenched his teeth, anxiety knotting its way through his insides. Why was he even here? He nodded, his response on the barest edge of civility. “Nurse.” His wife looked over her shoulder, not even breaking stride. Her mass of red hair curled in seductive waves down her back, hips swaying with every footstep. The suit she wore clung to her body. No doubt for the doctor's benefit. It certainly wasn't for his.
Or maybe it was. Just to prove a damned point.
“Hurry up Jonathan.” Heather's voice, soft as velvet and swift as steel raked over him, piercing him with her sharp eyed gaze. How dare he lag behind.
The damned amulet she always wore glittered in the over bright lighting and he had the urge to tear it from her neck and stomp it into a million pieces.
His wife was a witch alright. He didn’t know what she was up to, but he could bet it wasn’t something for his best interest.
Admiring her form as she strode down the hall, Jonathan marveled at the miracle of modern science. How many more procedures was she going to have? Breast enlargement, face lifts, tummy tucks, ass reduction, lip enhancement, liposuction...the list went on and on. Jonathan couldn't keep track. He kept his stride steady, wincing as his bum knee kicked up, sending a shock of knife like pain through his body. Fuck. He stumbled and almost fell but the nurse stepped in to steady him. She lifted him, setting him to rights. Startled, he met her gaze and noticed the over brightness of her eyes and the porcelain perfection of her skin. It made his skin crawl. He shuddered, pushing her away. “I can walk. Thank you.”
“Yes, sir.” The nurse's lips twisted into a smirk as she watched him amble in his laborious fashion behind his leggy wife. It was pathetic and he wasn't sure who he hated more. Her for her ivory perfection, or himself for letting age get the best of him.
The door to the doctor's office loomed large at the end of the hall. “What the hell do you need me here for, Heather?” He ground out as another nurse led them inside and closed the door. “I’m not interested in bearing witness to your latest alteration.”
His wife ignored him, seating herself in one of the padded chairs in front of a large desk. It was an old argument. One that had turned stale the second year of their marriage when he realized she couldn't last six months without surgery or sculpting her body. Now she’d become something that didn't remotely resemble the simple girl he had married. Not someone. That would imply she had feelings. Because she didn’t. Stone cold, the only thing animated about her was her eyes and they had the depth of warmth of a snake.
Jonathan picked a chair in the far corner of the room and lowered himself into it. Raincoat draped over his arm, he rifled through it for his e-reader, certain it had to be inside one of the voluminous pockets. Here, there was no rain to keep him company. Only the cold demeanor of a wife that merely tolerated the air he breathed. The salmon pink painted walls reminded him of the inside of someone's stomach. It was a wretched color.
The door to the office opened and a swarthy, dark haired man in a white coat entered. “Ah, Mrs. Lisle. How wonderful. And you brought Jonathan with you this time I see. How excellent.” The doctor's dark eyes gleamed, his olive skin stretched taut over his high cheekbones. This was why she came here. To fawn over him. Disgust twisted his insides and he glowered at the wall. If anything would happen between them, Jonathan didn't want it thrust in his face.
He struggled to get up, but it was easier sitting down than making his body move after it had been still. His knees buckled and he landed hard on the chair cushion, knocking the air out of his lungs with the effort.
“Mr. Lisle. Where are you going? How rude of me.” He stepped around the desk, his face a mask of concern. “I should introduce myself. My name is Dr. Nairobi. I have been overseeing some of your wife's care.”
“Doctor.” Jonathan bit out, anger at his body's betrayal seething through his blood.
Heather twisted around and pursed her lips. “Doctor, if you would be so kind. I’ll wait in the hall while you two talk. Jonathan do what the doctor says.”
She rose from the chair, laying a hand on Doctor Nairobi's arm, setting Jonathan's blood boiling all over again. Nodding in his direction, she disappeared back through the door they had entered minutes before, leaving him alone.
“Mr. Lisle, I assume Heather has explained to you what the purpose of today's visit is?” Dr. Nairobi approached, lowering himself in a chair across from him. “Your wife is an exceptional woman and has taken the treatments well over the years. By now, all of her enhancements look natural and we wanted to approach you about doing the same.”
What?
Jonathan cleared his throat. “Doctor, I assure you, I don't need a tummy tuck or an ass lift. This old body has done me just fine over the years. If she prefers to see younger men such as yourself then more power to her. I'll be dead soon enough.” A cough rattled through his lungs and pain shot through his body as it was gripped in muscle contractions.
The doctor stood and reached across the desk for a glass of water, setting it on the table in front of Jonathan. He took it with shaking hands, sucking down a much needed mouthful of liquid.
“Thank you.” Jonathan set it down on the table.
“That is precisely why we are here, Mr. Lisle. Your wife has explained to us you’ve been unwell of late. We’re interested in performing some of the same modifications that have given your wife such success.” The doctor's dark eyes met his as he struggled for breath.
“I just told you, I don't need a fucking tummy tuck.” Jonathan ground out, exasperated.
“What is it with you people?”
Dr. Nairobi shook his head, frowning. “Ah. I see she did not explain.” He stood, his white coat draping around him like a priest's robes. He reached for the phone. “Maddy. Please send Dr. Faustus in.”
“Faustus? What are you people doing, selling your souls to the devil?” Jonathan struggled to rise, but his movements slowed, his head growing muzzy. The water. The bastard must have drugged him.
“On the contrary, Mr. Lisle. On the contrary.” Nairobi smiled, his teeth white against the sharp planes of his olive complexion. “There is no devil here.”
The same door that Dr. Nairobi entered from opened, revealing a pale, elegant man with disturbing green eyes. As he turned toward the light, something in them flashed, sending a jolt of icy trepidation down his spine. The eyes. There was something almost inhuman about them. Like his wife's. Like the nurse.
“Thank you for coming Geoff. Our newest subject is here. His wife contacted us this morning. Mr. Lisle's muscular degeneration is getting to a critical point and she thought he would be an excellent candidate for the next section of our male study.” Nairobi gestured to him, and Jonathan stared at them in horror. “Mr. Lisle, forgive the unfortunate nature of the drug. In order for us to test the cybernetic implants and nerve receptors, there is a need to keep you fully aware, but not ambulatory.”
“Nairobi. How wonderful. I have been waiting for a candidate that fit the requirements. The Cybernetic Society will be thrilled. Hello, Mr. Lisle. How lovely to meet you. Your wife has been one of our star candidates since her scare with breast cancer several years ago.”
And there was that damned amulet again. How many of the fucking things were there?
Breast cancer? Star candidate? What was he talking about? Why hadn't she told him? It made no sense. He tried to move and search out his wife's gaze but nothing was working. His eyes followed the doctors’ movements, but the rest of his body was frozen.
“Yes indeed. She has adapted to the whole idea of a purely cybernetic system in quite a positive way. She looks only half her age, if I do say so myself.” Dr. Nairobi chuckled and pressed a buzzer on the desk. “Yes. Nurse. Please ready operating room seven. We have a new whole body implant procedure ready to go.”
> “You really are one of the lucky ones. Your wife was insistent that you be the next test subject.” Faustus opened the door as the nurse entered, pushing a gurney into the room. “Witchcraft can’t heal everything, now can it?”
Jonathan didn’t know what to say to that.
“Cybernetics is becoming quite the norm in modern medical practice, my dear Mr. Lisle.” He hefted Jonathan's weight and settled him onto the gurney. “Cancer treatments, limb regeneration, weight control. There is no medical maleficence we can’t conquer. You inquired about the devil. Well, frail humanity is the disease that must be stamped out.” He pushed the gurney a little further and paused. “There. Now where were we?”
“Modern medicine, sir.” The nurse smiled up at him, her over bright eyes catching the light.
Jonathan struggled against the paralysis, his body little more than a non-responsive wooden husk. The gurney rolled down another hallway, behind the offices and stopped in front of a large door.
“Nurse, if you please.” Nairobi pushed Jonathan into a well-lit operating room. His head lolled as they turned a corner and his eyes rested on one technician standing at the operating table.
“You're selection for this candidate is complete, doctors.” The tech turned to face the group and Jonathan's eyes met his. The phosphorus glow of the young man's gaze blazed into him as his body was lifted. Not human. None of them were. He stared behind him to a table filled with gleaming metal parts. Classical music filled the operating chamber, hiding the sounds of scissors cutting away the last of his clothing, leaving him naked and shivering in the harsh white light.
“Ah. Thank you Maddy. I believe Mr. Lisle will prefer that to the sounds of the operating room, won't you?” Nairobi approached, his face covered by a mask. Following close behind was Faustus. “Time to get started. We wouldn't want the drug to wear off before we've completed the transition, now would we?”
Bound In Fire: Phoenix Shifter Paranormal Page 11
