The Moorigad Dragon: (An Urban Fantasy Series) (Age of the Hybrid Book 1)

by Debra Kristi

  The man’s face brightened, his lips curling into a relieved smile. Laugh lines creased the edges of his eyes, eyes that sparkled in the most unusual indigo color. Unusual, yes, and yet it seemed the most natural color ever created within the spectrum. He thrust his hand forward in greeting. “Sebastian. Pleasure to make your re-acquaintance.”

  Sebastian.

  She stared at his hand, waiting in the space between them. His name swirled around her, around the recesses of her mind like a story once read and put away. A childhood memory long since forgotten. She didn’t want things to be that way. She wanted to remember.

  Reaching out to meet his hand, she wondered what his touch would bring. A flood of memories returned? A flush of heat? Excitement, maybe? Her palm met his, but when she raised to shake, he lifted her hand to his lips and softly placed a kiss upon it.

  Dragonflies took to chaotic flutters in her belly.

  And then her hand was wrapped securely around herself, held warm and firm by Marcus. “Sebastian was just leaving. Weren’t you?” Harsh tones raked through Marcus’s voice.

  “Actually…” Sebastian looked from Marcus to Kyra, then back again. He took a step into the condominium and stopped, a strange look washing over his face. “Marcus?” He narrowed his gaze on Marcus, a dark shadow falling over his fine features.

  Marcus turned Kyra to face him and kissed her on the side of the forehead. He appeared distant. His neck and jaw muscles strained. “I really need you to go put more clothes on. I’ll be there in a minute.” He directed her toward the bedroom.

  Her feet carried her a couple of steps before stumbling to a stop, the ground covered by the momentum of his nudge. Feeling bold and courageous, she planted her feet, crossed her arms, and firmed her jam. “No. I’d prefer to stay.”

  Marcus turned and walked toward her. “Kyra, what did we talk about?”

  Her hand jumped to her neckline, searched and found what she was looking for. Like a metronome marking a beat, her hand ran up and down along the hefty cord around her neck, tugging at the ancient tooth held secure at center point. Every time she felt the slightest bit nervous, she turned to the cord and tooth. Even now she felt it working its magic to calm her.

  “Kyra?” Marcus asked again, grabbed her wrist, and nudged her back toward the bedroom.

  Her eyes fluttered, then she looked up at him. For a moment her emotions had been so overwhelming, she’d gotten caught up in the storm and failed to respond to Marcus. He now looked upon her with eyes softening, warming to deep pools of blue. They promised security and affection. Complete adoration.

  She wanted to argue. Wanted to be reckless and unruly, but something held her back.

  The ancient tooth hanging at her neck hummed ever so slightly beneath her touch. It sent tiny waves of calm through her chest and sent them rolling out through the rest of her. She took a slow breath and allowed Marcus to move her back several more steps. She didn’t fight him, even though she wanted to on some level. “Why are you trying to get rid of me?” Her face reddened and the muscles along her jawline twitched, yet she continued to take step after step backwards.

  “It’s not like that,” Marcus said, warming the sides of Kyra’s arm. “I’m looking out for you.” His eyes burned with power and grit and determination.

  Kyra could feel her eyes rolling. She was so sick of hearing those words. I’m looking out for you.

  “Why don’t you let her stay?” Sebastian said from a few steps inside the threshold. He held his hands up, as if pushing against an invisible wall. Lines creased his forehead like the effort exerted from pressing the air was exhausting. He threw his shoulder against nothing and bounced back.

  Marcus shot Sebastian a hostile glare. “Why don’t you stay out of this conversation?”

  Three more steps, nearly to the bedroom. She’d allowed him to nudge her right out of the room, right out of her free will. How had he done it? She didn’t want to go, she wanted to stay. “Stop looking out for me,” Kyra mumbled, then glanced down, avoiding eye contact with Marcus. At the bedroom doorway, she paused and looked at Sebastian. “I’m really sorry. If we were friends, I hope to remember soon.” She meant every word, and then some. She stepped into the bedroom and slammed the door.

  The control that had moved her to the room snapped with the slam of the door. Relief washed over her. Sometimes Marcus could have the strangest effect on her. This was one of those times. She wasn’t too keen on this aspect of their relationship. How embarrassing. She wanted to hate him, but couldn’t. Why couldn’t she?

  She leaned against the door and slid to the floor. Their voices in the other room rose and anger ruled them. The sound hurt her ears. Not physically, but mentally and emotionally and psychologically. This was all wrong. The knots in her gut knew it to be true.

  She felt like a caged animal—a damn prisoner—unable to come and go as she pleased. If Sebastian knew her, why wasn’t he taking her away from this place? Stupid pissing contest.

  She paced the room. Left. Then right. Then left again.

  Sebastian standing at their front door. Sebastian with his hands pressed against the air.

  She caught her breath.

  “What does it mean?” she muttered.

  Rage burned a warpath through her soul. So much commotion bombarded her. She was ready to pop.

  She grabbed the first thing her hands managed to wrap around, tossed it across the room. Magazines flew in multiple directions, separate papers and pieces landing on the bed, the floor, the nightstands, anything. One flopped at her feet. A picture of large circus tents screamed, “Look at me!”

  The ridiculous photo exercise finally had her attention. She lifted the picture with the utmost care. Sebastian had mentioned a carnival. That didn’t set off any magic discovery chime in her head. Cheap concessions, fly-by-night rides, rigged-to-rape-you games. Nope. She had nothing. But this… She held the tiny, two-dimensional tent in her hand and wished she understood the significance.

  The rage had dissipated and Kyra sat at the edge of the bed to study the picture. It wasn’t quite right, but it was close. It stirred something in her. What was it? Was she feeling homesick?

  Marcus stepped into the room. “Sorry about that.” He heaved a heavy sigh and began to circle the bed toward Kyra.

  Without a word, Kyra stashed the picture in the top drawer of her nightstand and shifted to look at him. “Why didn’t you let me talk to him? Invite him in? It’s clear he has clues to my past that could be useful.” Her hands squeezed the edge of the bed until her knuckles protested with pain.

  Marcus dropped down on his knees in front of her and took hold of her shoulders. “I thought you trusted me.”

  Indecision waivered, shook her like a tree branch, and she could no longer see a clear path. “I do,” she said, voice soft, without solid conviction. As the word left her lips they tasted bitter, laced with lies.

  His hands slid up to her shoulders and began to rub, and he moved up to the bed beside her. “You’re so tense.”

  She stared at the window blinds on the wall next to her. Slivers of light filtered through. “It’s been a strange morning.” His hands worked magic, kneading her stiff joints and muscles. With her eyes closed her imagination could take her anywhere, as it did then. No longer sitting in Marcus’s boring condominium, she pictured herself on a bed made of a dozen soft pillows, all of them a rainbow of color. Around her, circus tents and spinning rides constantly morphing in color. Everywhere she looked there were lights, and twinkling stars in the sky.

  She lay back among the pillows and marveled at her imagination. Was it a clue to who she used to be? Who she should be?

  Marcus kissed the curve of her neck and with the skill of a true ladies’ man, ran his hand along her breastbone, opening her robe. Kyra’s mind raced. Her happy place was receding. Was she going to allow this now? After what had just…

  Marcus’s hand rolled over the ancient tooth Kyra wore around her neck. Heat flushed her system,
a trickle of sweat dripped down the side of her brow. The stars twinkled above her head once again. A dozen misshapen pillows of all different colors lay beneath her, and the vibrant backdrop of fun zones and the circus life surrounded her. It was the night’s soundtrack. Jubilant chatter, laughter, and screams of delight.

  She wasn’t fool enough to believe the mirage, the illusion, but she knew this was where she belonged. Wherever this was. She scorched the image to her memory.

  Marcus rolled over, his hands exploring every part of her body. She made no move to stop him, for fear of losing her connection to the magic taking place. But the things he did, the way he made her body feel, it was so sinfully enjoyable. Her gaze wandered down. She didn’t see Marcus’s chestnut mane, but a head full of dark hair moving between her legs.

  She tensed, pulled back, and he looked up. It was Sebastian. But it couldn’t be. She knew that, logically she knew that. She was seeing him just like everything else. Her body relaxed, melted, and gave into the illusion. It felt good. Better than good. Great, amazing, euphoric to lie with him under the stars. Their bodies melded, hands and lips exploring every inch of their lover’s body. The circus dissolved, turned to rock and fire and flying dragons. And Kyra clung to Sebastian like her life depended upon it, orgasm after orgasm.

  “I will find you,” she whispered in his ear. “I swear it.”

  Marcus

  Marcus rolled over on the bed and fluffed the pillow behind his head. Sex with Kyra had been intense. He turned his head and studied her, let his finger glide along her curves, teasing her nipple a second longer than the rest of her. He liked that she smelled of him. All of her, every inch of her now had his scent. “You were different that time,” he probed.

  She gazed at the ceiling, a dreamy look on her face. “Mmm.” It was all she had to say.

  The warmth of his finger notched under her chin, turned her gaze up to meet his, and his lips descended upon hers. Both inviting and sensual, she opened up to him completely.

  What she lacked in practice and skill she made up for in enthusiasm. A trait he relished and was elated to find in her. Twisting to her side, her hands moved with skill and precision. Glided like silk on butter along the curves of his skin, heading straight for his weakness, the zone bound to make him more amiable, more forthcoming.

  Marcus’s shoulders arced, he closed his eyes and groaned at her touch.

  The phone rang. The sound came from the kitchen, where Marcus had left it sitting on the counter.

  “Well, shit,” he grumbled. He eased away from her, his attention already directed to the other room.

  Kyra stared at him, a blank expression on her face. Marcus slipped on his pants and leaned back over the bed. “You all right?” She simply nodded. He kissed her throat. “I promise it will only be a minute. You are my priority.” He took a moment to gaze over her. “You’re sure you’re okay?” Kyra nodded again, still silent.

  Marcus breezed through the kitchen, picked up his phone, and continued moving toward the glass doors at the far end. He spared a glance at the number before stepping out onto the balcony and answering the call.

  “Not the best time. I need to keep it short.” He leaned over the railing and glanced at the other balconies to verify privacy. “Yeah, she’s here. She doesn’t remember anything.” Marcus was silent for a moment, listening. “I know, but I can handle this. I can handle her.” Listening to the other end, he remained silent for a beat. “Yeah. What kind of fucking charm did you put on that thing anyway?” He listened. “No. You get over here tonight and fix it. Fix it now. Don’t you realize how incredibly stupid that was? Could destroy everything! No wonder she was…” He fell silent. “Never mind.”

  Moving to the corner, he dropped down, removed an old vent cover on the balcony’s side wall, reached inside, and pulled out a large jar. Holding it before him, he stared at it with longing set deep in his soul. “What’s important is I got what I wanted. All we need to do now is make it truly mine.” Orange and gold sparks flickered in the jar, a swirl of blue.

  Marcus laughed. “Right. Well, let’s not waste time. Figure it out.” He hung up and set the phone down. Kalrapura snarled at him through the glass. Her long, serpent body twisted around, fully agitated in her tightly confined prison. Pointing his finger at the dragon, Marcus whispered, “You should play nice. We’re going to get to know each other a whole lot better real soon.”

  The dragon hissed and filled the jar with fire. Marcus smirked, then placed Kalrapura back in her hiding place. He slipped back into the apartment quiet as a skilled hunter. Kyra waited for him in the bed, curled comfortably under the covers.

  He slid into the empty space beside her, his hands slipping around her creamy skin in one smooth motion. Until the magic of the pendant got fixed, that would be all he would allow. No way would she be seeing another man while they had sex. Sebastian was staying out of his bedroom. Kyra was his.

  From the author : I hope you enjoyed reading The Moorigad Dragon. Thank you so much for embarking on Kyra and Sebastian’s adventure. I had a blast writing their story! I did it for them and for you―the reader. It’s the readers and reviewers who make up the foundation of our author world and we love you madly for all you do! That being said, I have to ask a favor of you, if you don’t mind. I’d like to invite you to post a review of the book on Amazon or Goodreads. Not only do I love receiving feedback but reviews also help other readers find what they are looking for.

  Thanks! Until next time, keep the magic real.

  ~ Debra Kristi

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  The Age of the Hybrid Series is a story within the Mystic’s Carnival Collective (MCC)―a collection of stories sharing a common world written by various authors. If this is your first visit to the collective and would like to explore more, please visit mysticscarnival.com. Like a real carnival, there are many tents to explore and worlds to discover, just inside the gates. All you have to do is step through.

  If you enjoyed The Moorigad Dragon, continue the saga with

  Reap Not The Dragon: Age of the Hybrid, Book Two

  Death was always the same. Not the people or the place or the circumstance. That changed from one stop to the next. Each one unique in their own special way. But Sebastian had come to understand his calling in the past few weeks and now recognized the signs for what they were. Always present. Always pulling. And always overwhelming with the constant stench of death. His own personal calling card.

  A mere few crossed-over prior to helping his best friend, Kyra, Sebastian had
lost count of the number of souls he’d crossed over since embracing his Reaper half to save her from purgatory. He’d fought his destiny. Feared being an icon of death. A messenger of doom. For her, he’d do it again in a fluttered heartbeat. She was more than a friend. He’d come to crave everything she brought to their relationship. Even the rage of her dragon.

  Things were now different, though.

  He understood a Reaper’s value.

  And Kyra…well, she didn’t remember him. Not at all. Of course, he was going to change that. Yes. Definitely change that. Very soon. First he had to get past Marcus’s damn barrier spell. Sebastian clenched his fist and imagined it slamming into Marcus’s jawline.

  Damn Marcus for taking Kyra.

  Damn him for keeping her from Sebastian.

  And damn him for escaping the Reaper.

  Sebastian stood beside his second stop of the day. If he had a choice he’d be at Marcus’s door right now, but the opportunity to get away from prying eyes and upper management had yet to present itself. The asphalt spread before him, a dark and crumbled highway to the unknown—at least, it was unknown to most who found themselves in this precarious situation. He knew exactly where it led.

  An empty aluminum can lie at his feet. With slow and deliberate intention, he knelt down and retrieved the evidence. Beer. Sunlight reflected off its sliver surface as he spun it with his fingers, then shoved it at the boy standing before him. Right into his hands. Hands covered with blood.

  “Think that last drink was a good idea?” Sebastian cocked his head indicating the mangled mass of metal sitting on the edge of the road. Steam poured out from under the crushed hood.

  With an air of indifference, the boy peered at the crumpled can, then over at the crash site, before looking back at Sebastian. The boy’s face resembled an emotionless wax dummy. He shrugged. “Ehh. Sure, the car is a loss, but I have insurance, and look at me! Not a scratch. Pretty awesome. Right, Dude?” He casually brushed the dirt from his shirt. “What the…” He swatted harder.