by Anna Lowe
Clara nodded, unsurprised. “Your dragon blood protects you — as the crystal does.”
Natalie looked down. “How can this little rock protect me?”
Clara glanced at Jacqueline, who scowled and huffed. “Don’t ask me.”
“The great dragons kept many treasures in their hoards — some so ancient, we do not recognize or understand their powers,” Clara explained. “Over the past months, Alaric has distributed a few treasures throughout the city in hopes of identifying a Fire Maiden.”
Natalie recalled the day she’d bought the crystal. “I just happened to find it. Anyone could have picked it up in that flea market.”
“You didn’t find it. It found you,” Clara insisted. “If I had walked by, all I would have seen was a dull, everyday trinket. But a Fire Maiden would have seen it for what it truly was.”
Fire Maiden. Natalie frowned. “Wait. First, I found the crystal. Then the vampires found me.” She held her necklace at arm’s length, feeling sick. Had she unwittingly drawn vampires to herself?
Clara shook her head. “Vampires have no interest in jewels, only blood. They sniffed out your royal ancestry.”
Natalie froze, remembering what Olivier had said in the alley. You think blood like that comes along every day? Royal blood?
“So she might have a little dragon blood,” Jacqueline griped. “That hardly makes her a Fire Maiden.”
For the first time that afternoon, Natalie agreed with Jacqueline.
Clara’s chest rose and fell in a sigh. “Perhaps hope makes me too eager to believe. But the spell Liviana commissioned survives to this day. Now, we need that power more than ever. We need a Fire Maiden.”
“Need her to what?” Natalie asked nervously.
“To keep the spell active. Having a Fire Maiden in residence is part of that, but not all. She has to reside in the city. Love the city. Truly embrace it and its inhabitants.”
Natalie considered. That didn’t sound too bad.
“The city experiences its greatest periods of peace and stability when the resident Fire Maiden has children, because her instinct to protect them evokes the spell’s power to protect the entire city.”
Natalie frowned. She’d always figured she’d have kids someday, but whoa. There wasn’t even a man in her life.
There’s Tristan, a little voice whispered.
Her cheeks heated. It was one thing to entertain wild fantasies about a man. To actually act on them was entirely different. She barely knew Tristan, and as for his view on the matter…
Jacqueline paced through Natalie’s line of vision, smirking at some inner thought — like how good the man was in bed, perhaps.
Natalie sank to the couch. “Okay. Maybe I have a drop of dragon blood. But it’s hard to believe I could be your Fire Maiden.”
“Of course you aren’t,” Jacqueline snipped. “Even if you were, you’re hardly suited for the job.”
Natalie looked up, her blood boiling.
Jacqueline shrugged. “It’s not easy. A Fire Maiden is always a target. Especially when she’s a mere human.”
“Jacqueline,” Clara warned.
But Jacqueline leaned in from behind Natalie’s shoulder, breathing down her neck. “All those vampires…”
Natalie’s skin crawled.
“And gargoyles…” Jacqueline’s nails scratched over the backrest.
“Jacqueline,” Clara barked.
The she-dragon went back to pacing. “Then again, there are… How do you say it? Ah, yes. Perks.”
Natalie shook her head wearily. “If perks are all you’re interested in, you’re interviewing for the wrong job.”
“It’s not a job. It’s a calling,” Clara said, giving Jacqueline a stern look. Then she turned to Natalie and softened. “I don’t deny that a Fire Maiden would be exposed to danger, especially early on. The spell will take time to fully awaken, and you’re only a human, with no means of protecting yourself.”
Natalie slumped. Was Clara trying to convince her or make her run?
“Also, we don’t know precisely what your jewel is capable of. Clearly, it’s been spelled.”
Spelled? Natalie looked down at the crystal in her hand.
“There are stones that heal,” Clara went on. “Stones that lend you strength, wisdom, or courage. Regardless, there is no denying who you are. A Fire Maiden.” She held up her hands before Natalie could protest. “You’ll have protection. I promise you that. This house is impenetrable…”
Natalie looked up, alarmed. This house is dark and depressing. She couldn’t imagine a worse fate than becoming a houseguest to blustery old Alaric. Especially if Jacqueline lived under the same roof.
“I mean, just until you’ve settled into the city and learned more about our world,” Clara added quickly.
Natalie forced herself to laugh, but it came out a nervous rattle. “I like my little apartment. That shows I’m not royal, right?”
Jacqueline cackled. “Let me guess. You’re renting one of those tiny chambres de bonne in some obscure corner of the city.”
Natalie furrowed her brow. Well, yes, she was renting what used to be a servant’s room under the eaves of an old building. “How did you know?”
Jacqueline stuck up her nose. “Every deluded foreigner rents one when they come to Paris to find themselves.”
I did not come to find myself, Natalie wanted to say. But maybe Jacqueline was right.
She shook her head quickly. Either way, it didn’t matter. “My place is fine.”
“It’s not,” Clara insisted. “The vampires who attacked you haven’t been apprehended yet.”
Natalie had been edging toward the door, but those words stopped her cold.
Clara mulled it over. “All right. I have an idea. Whether you accept you’re our Fire Maiden or not, you need protection. Do you agree?”
Natalie ran her hands over her arms, trying to erase the goose bumps.
“Well…yes. I guess so.”
Jacqueline made a disgusted sound that said, Useless little human. If only you could defend yourself the way I can.
Yeah, well. It would be nice to be able to turn into a dragon and fly away from vampires. Better yet, to incinerate them with a long plume of fire.
Natalie frowned. What a predicament. She had enough dragon blood to attract vampires, but not enough to defend herself.
Clara’s eyes clouded, wandering over the tapestries on the walls. But when her gaze slid over toward the room where Tristan and the other men waited, her face lit up with hope — and a hint of mischief.
“Don’t worry, my dear. I know the perfect place for you to stay. And the perfect bodyguard for your protection.”
Chapter Eleven
Every muscle in Tristan’s body tensed. It had killed him to see Natalie led away, and he’d nearly followed like a lovesick puppy. A good thing Liam’s cutting look reminded him of his situation.
Alaric is the boss, Tristan told his dragon. He and Hugo and the others.
All those old guys, his dragon grumbled.
Old guys who could kick his ass, at least collectively. Alaric and Hugo had been legendary warriors in their day, and while their hair might have turned gray, they were still forces to be reckoned with. Then there was creepy old Morfram, the vampire. Even if he was an ally, Tristan didn’t trust the man. Morfram and his sidekick, Albiorix, were responsible for keeping their brethren under control, and yet a gang of vampires had attacked Natalie with the help of a gargoyle. So, no. Tristan didn’t trust those old guys one bit.
Besides, what do they know about love? his dragon muttered.
Not much, he decided. Except for Hugo, perhaps. Even the grizzled wolf shifter couldn’t hide a look of goofy rapture when Clara had appeared.
Tristan’s dragon sighed. That could be us and Natalie.
Earth to Tristan, Liam called into his mind. Ready to pay attention before you get your ass whipped? Or should I say, pay attention while your ass gets whipped, because Alari
c is about to lay into you — and bad.
Tristan steeled himself. Any moment now, the ranking dragon would explode with a barrage aimed squarely at him, the young gun who’d messed up yet again.
How could you fail so miserably? We hired you to watch for vampires, not to kill one. You’re fired, hotshot.
Tristan clenched his fists. He’d never find a decent job again. He’d be forced to leave Paris. Worse, he’d be forced to part from Natalie.
But she’s my mate, his dragon insisted.
He ground his teeth. Surely, he was mistaken — the way his mother had been mistaken about his father in the beginning. Natalie was amazing, but she deserved better than him.
Tristan… Liam called, pulling his attention back.
And not a moment too soon, because Alaric turned with a grave look. Beside him, Marcel folded his arms, trying to look menacing.
Brace yourself, buddy, Liam whispered, directing Tristan’s attention to more immediate things. And remember, I had nothing to do with your fuckup. Not this time anyway.
Alaric stared Tristan down for a good long time.
Good luck, Liam added when Alaric finally began to speak. You’ll need it.
“Monsieur Chevalier,” Alaric started gravely. “You shall never defy me again, is that clear?”
Is that clear? Marcel’s haughty expression echoed.
As if Tristan took orders from pampered brats like Marcel. He could barely swallow taking orders from Alaric, especially if those orders involved Natalie. But Hugo pinned him with a firm look that said, Say yes, son.
Tristan forced himself to nod — once.
“Good. Now on to the matter of the woman.”
Tristan gnashed his teeth. Natalie was not just any woman. She was amazing. She was fascinating. She was—
“Well done, Monsieur Chevalier,” Alaric murmured. “Well done.”
He stared. Huh?
Liam looked just as puzzled, but he nodded. Just run with it, man.
“You have brought us the Fire Maiden we sought,” Alaric said.
“Fire Maiden,” Marcel echoed, his eyes glittering.
Tristan looked between Alaric and Hugo, utterly confused.
“Well, what do you have to say for yourself?” Alaric demanded.
Tristan waited for an Aha moment to strike and clarify what was going on, but none came. So he replied with a carefully even, “My task was to track vampires, sir.”
Alaric nodded. “Olivier de Renoir. We know.”
Tristan stared. Alaric knew about Natalie’s attacker?
Wait a minute, his dragon muttered, growing angry.
“You know?” he grunted, incredulous.
Alaric nodded. “Of course.”
The dragon’s casual tone infuriated him, and slowly, he pieced things together. Alaric was desperate to find a Fire Maiden. Shifters had sensitive noses, but vampires were even better. Who better to sniff out royal blood?
“You used Olivier to lead you to her?” Tristan growled, his voice rising.
Take it easy, buddy, Liam tried.
No way was he taking it easy. Not with something as precious as Natalie’s life.
“You used vampires?” he shouted.
Alaric’s brow folded. “We sensed the presence of a Fire Maiden, but as her powers are still weak, we could not locate her.”
“So you allowed vampires to do that?”
Alaric looked smug. “That was the idea, yes.”
“Good idea,” Marcel, ever the brown-noser, agreed.
It was a miracle Tristan didn’t explode, given the way his blood pressure rose. “You didn’t tell me. You put Natalie at risk.”
“We told you what you had to know. Besides, we didn’t expect the vampires to find her so quickly,” Alaric said, clearly annoyed. “The idea was for you to report the vampires to us, and for Hugo to take over from there.”
Tristan opened his mouth, then closed it, because he was about to roar and possibly spit fire. Sulfur was already stinging his throat as his fury increased.
“If I hadn’t been there, Natalie would be dead.”
“For which we are grateful, Monsieur Chevalier — if indeed she is the one we seek.”
Tristan’s mouth hung open. If Natalie didn’t turn out to be a Fire Maiden, would Alaric simply abandon her to her fate, whatever it may be?
Liam quietly raised his hand. “Um… If I may intrude?”
Alaric turned to him with a sour look. “Intrude? Appropriate choice of words.” Then he sighed and flapped a hand. “Yes, Mr. Bennett?”
“Why do you need her so badly?”
“Don’t you see? We’ve been waiting — hoping — to find our Fire Maiden for so long,” Morfram said. “We need her.”
Tristan didn’t like the sound of that. “Need her to what, exactly?”
Morfram looked down his nose at Tristan. “To revive the ancient spell set to protect the city. Simply by taking up residence, a Fire Maiden can accomplish that.”
“A Fire Maiden can accomplish much more,” Hugo added in a low, reverent voice.
Alaric nodded gravely. “Indeed, the greatest of the line have accomplished many important public works. But we can hardly expect someone of such watered-down blood to match the legends of her ancestral line.”
Tristan wanted to snort. Obviously, these men didn’t know Natalie.
But Alaric spoke first, shaking a finger at Tristan. “I warn you not to test the limits of my gratitude. You will not question my authority, is that clear?”
No, it isn’t, Tristan nearly shouted. Not with his vision going red and steam about to come out of his ears.
Hugo pursed his lips, and his voice tapped at the edge of Tristan’s mind. Keep your cool, son. Force isn’t always the way. Try finesse.
Keep his cool? How the hell was he supposed to keep his cool when his mate’s life was at stake?
Hugo’s eyebrows jumped up, and Tristan winced. Shit. Had Hugo picked up on that thought? The wolf shifter studied Tristan closely, then looked in the direction Natalie had gone.
Tristan forced himself to look straight ahead, pretending he was as detached as a good soldier ought to be. But all the while, his inner dragon raged.
For the next few minutes, he endured Alaric’s tempestuous speech about protocols employees were expected to follow and how long a man could expect to remain employed if he failed to comply. And on and on…
So blustery. Worse than a lion, even, Liam sighed.
Then there was Marcel, who’d always rubbed Tristan the wrong way. The man stood at Alaric’s side the whole time, mimicking his uncle’s facial expressions.
As if he’ll ever rule anything, Liam scoffed.
Tristan tuned out, eying Hugo. The wolf shifter was Alaric’s most trusted adviser. Was he going to rat Tristan out? Alaric had never found a mate, so he wouldn’t understand how deep that bond ran. And, damn. Alaric would never stand for a commoner like Tristan mating with a Fire Maiden, if Natalie truly was one. That was like a pauper pining for the princess’s hand. She was way, way out of his class.
Totally out of your class, Marcel’s haughty expression agreed. Not like me, Alaric’s own nephew.
Tristan stood sweating bullets, watching Hugo from the corner of his eye. Wishing he could beg the wolf shifter for mercy, because he desperately needed time to figure out how to win over his mate.
Finally, Alaric finished his tirade with another blustery, “Do you understand?”
Tristan forced out the obligatory, “Yes, sir,” sick as it made him feel.
Hugo clapped once, drawing everyone’s attention.
“Fine. Now that that’s sorted, let’s move on.”
Everyone looked relieved, including Morfram and Albiorix, who had probably witnessed enough of Alaric’s tirades for a lifetime.
“Move on?” Alaric furrowed his brow.
“Move on,” Hugo said firmly. “First, we have to trace the young lady’s lineage to be completely sure.”
Alaric stroked his beard, and everyone nodded sagely.
“Good idea,” Marcel said. Then he leaned closer to Alaric. “Allow me to investigate.”
Tristan barely swallowed a snarl. Marcel’s favorite form of investigation took place in the bedroom. That was about the only thing Alaric’s nephew showed any prowess in. No way would Tristan let that happen.
Luckily, Hugo stuck up a hand, halting Marcel. “More important is the question of protecting her while she settles in. If she accepts her role as a Fire Maiden.”
Alaric’s frown deepened. “She’d better accept her role.”
Tristan bristled, and his mind spun with crazy schemes to help Natalie escape if she didn’t choose to stay. He and she could catch the first train to Calais, then head to London. Liam could find someplace for them to stay—
Hey, man. This is your mess, not mine, Liam muttered.
But Tristan was on a roll. After covering their tracks to London, he and Natalie could acquire forged passports and fly to America, where he would find a place to hide her from dragons or vampires. Then he and she would… They would…
He stalled out there, because it hit him how crazy it all was. Maybe Natalie wanted to stay in Paris. Hell, he sure did, but he would leave if it meant remaining at her side. But what if Natalie wasn’t drawn to him the way he was drawn to her? What then?
Suddenly, he realized that Hugo had said something and that everyone was waiting for him to answer. He looked at Liam for help.
Oh, for God’s sake, Hugo grumbled into his mind. Then he spoke aloud. “I said, congratulations, Monsieur Chevalier. You’ve been promoted.”
Tristan frowned. Was that some kind of trick?
“Promoted to…?”
“Bodyguard.”
“Bodyguard.” Alaric heaved a heavy sigh. “We used to call them knights.” His face took on a Those were the days expression.
Tristan and Liam exchanged glances. Exactly how old was Alaric?
“In any case,” Hugo went on, “the young lady will need protection. And as my dear mate points out…”
