by Lili Zander
He is so getting a blowjob.
“Thank you.”
“It’s nothing, mausezähnchen.”
He’s wrong. The twenty-thousand-dollar Chanel purse is nothing. This is the exact opposite. This matters.
Casius chooses that moment to walk in. “I think I have a way of shoring up Mateo’s wards,” he announces and then takes in the small gathering around the kitchen table. “What’s going on?”
I quickly explain this morning’s errand. I’m just showing Casius the USB key when Mateo and Rhys walk in, Rhys carrying a laptop. “Plug it in.”
With shaking fingers, I do as Rhys asks. Everything about my identity is on this key.
But will it give me the answers I seek?
60
Casius
While Aria reads her file, I watch her.
She remembers some of her foster homes, of course. She was eleven when she ran away from Denna Norton’s house. Deena’s latest loser boyfriend had started to make a habit of walking into the bathroom when Aria was using it. Denna Norton didn’t give a shit about the girl, just about the income each foster child brought in.
She’d been in the Washington Heights home for two years. Before that, she remembered living in the Bronx. “Not too long,” she’d said. “A little over two months? Their names were Tom and Samantha.”
I’d gone to the address she’d given me, but the bungalow she’d described was no longer there. In its place was a sleek glass-and-brick unit. I’d talked to the owners, but they had no idea who Tom and Samantha were. “We bought it from a Japanese couple,” the woman who’d answered the door had said. “Before them, I think it was being rented out?”
Before Silas came along and lent stability to her life, she bounced around a lot. Now, as she lists the names on the screen, I realize how much she’s been through. She’s been in eighteen foster homes.
Eighteen homes in nine years.
Silas Archer nods at the screen. “I remember them,” he says. “Tom and Samantha Rivers. Before that, Molly and Paul Everhart in East Harlem.” He reads out a few more names that he recognizes. Finally, he stops at a page. “Krista Fanning didn’t know who had Aria before her,” he says. “The trail stopped cold there.”
Bastian’s eyes rake over the screen. “There are five additional names here.”
Aria swallows. “If anyone knows anything about my birth parents, it would be my first foster home, wouldn’t it?”
“That’s as good a theory as any,” Rhys says. He’s got his arm around her, and I know he’s as angry as I am at how much turmoil our mate has had in her life. “Pauline Summers in Queens. Let’s go find her.”
“Not yet,” I cut in. “Right now, keeping Zyrian out of Aria’s mind is the bigger priority.”
Bastian raises his eyebrow. “You said you had a way of shoring up Mateo’s wards.”
“Yes. Aria’s do-not-notice tattoo gave me the idea. Mateo used his blood to make the ward last night, but we all have the mark on our wrists.”
“All our blood.” Mateo closes his eyes. “Of course.”
I expect Erik to protest, but he nods in agreement.
“More than that. Our blood needs to be connected to Aria’s. We need another tattoo. Let’s go see Aria’s friend, the one who owns some illegal dragon blood. He can apply it.”
Aria lifts her chin defiantly. “I stole that blood from MagLabs,” she says. “Not Pieter. If he’s in trouble, I should be too.”
She’s so loyal. “Your friend is safe,” I assure her. “I’ll even let him keep the rest of my blood. But Mateo must wipe his memory after he’s done. It’s for his own safety.”
“Okay.” She gets to her feet. “First East Harlem, now Park Slope. I’m all over the city today.” She winks at Bastian. “I talked Erik into taking the subway, but somehow, I can’t see you in it.”
Rhys laughs out loud. “Dragon Prince Bastian Jaeger taking public transit. Bastian, I will send you that Picasso I won in the auction if you do it.”
His eyes gleam with amusement. “You’re on, Griffith.”
61
Aria
Pieter is touchingly glad to see me. “I thought you’d been burned to a crisp,” he says, hugging me tightly.
Bastian clears his throat, and I give him a death glare. Seriously? He has no problems with all five of them being my mate, but I can’t hug my friend?
“I’m fine,” I say, disengaging myself from Pieter’s grip. “The dragons aren’t as bad as they’re made out to be.”
The tattoo artist focuses on the guys for the first time. Mateo’s gaes at work. When he sees them, his eyes widen. “Are these…”
“Yup. The five dragon princes. Bastian, Casius, Mateo, Rhys, and Erik, meet Pieter Van Den Berg.”
His mouth falls open. “You’re shitting me.”
“Nope. See? I’m perfectly fine. They’re really not scary at all. Big teddy-bears, all five of them.”
I have to hold back my laugh at their reaction to that comment. I swear Erik turns purple. It’s hilarious.
“Indeed, tesoro.” Mateo gives me an amused glance before turning to Pieter. “We need your help,” he says. “I need a knife and a bowl. And can you shut the store?”
“Umm. Sure thing.” Pieter locks the door and closes his blinds, flipping his sign to ‘Closed.’ Opening a drawer, he pulls out a Swiss Army penknife. “Will this work?”
“It’s fine.” Mateo takes the bowl Pieter hands him. Placing his wrist over it, he slices his vein with the penknife. Blood falls into the bowl, and once again, it reaches to me, whispers that it’ll soon be a part of me, and I of it.
Erik goes next, his blood adding to Mateo’s. One by one, the others cut themselves, their blood trickling into the bowl. Pieter watches with interested eyes. “I mixed in ink when I made Aria’s do-not-notice tattoo,” he says.
“No need for ink.” Mateo’s familiar gold threads of magic are already dancing over the bowl, his magic shaping the ward. When he’s done, he nods to Pieter. “The magic will do what’s necessary.”
Pieter is holding up really well. He’s so interested in what Mateo’s doing that he’s forgotten to be terrified. “Where do you want your new tattoo, Aria?”
I stick out my right wrist. “See this mark?” I ask Pieter. “Can you make me a matching one on my left wrist?”
Mateo smiles at me. “I like that,” he says. “There’s power in pattern and in symmetry.”
Pieter studies the five-pointed Celtic knot, his fingers tracing its shape until he’s got the pattern figured out. “Let’s do this.” He wipes my skin clean and gets to work. In less than thirty minutes, we’re done.
“How does it feel?” Mateo asks.
I close my eyes. Back in the hospital, I could see Mateo and Casius in my mind. They’re there now, as are all of the others, bright and clear. We’re connected like we’ve never been connected before. “Pretty good.”
Rhys grins wickedly and moves closer to my ear. “Are you horny, love?”
I totally am. I blush, not because I’m being coy, but because of how easily he’s reading me. The need rages in my blood, demanding I take them all now. Let them claim me as mate. Claim them as mine.
Erik coughs and the spell breaks. “Wait for your turn, Griffith,” he says to me. “Aria, it’s almost four, and we skipped lunch. Want to grab something to eat, and then I’ll kick your ass at pool?”
“What about Pauline Summers in Queens?”
“I sent Tomas to track her down,” Bastian replies. “She’s not at the address CPS had. Understandable. It’s been more than twenty years. We’ll find her, but it might take us a few hours. There’s enough time for you to kick Erik’s ass first.” His mouth curves into a mocking smile. “He’s not that good, you know. I’ve beaten him more times than I can count.”
“Fuck you, Jaeger,” Erik replies easily. “Coming, Aria?”
To my surprise, I have a blast playing pool, drinking beer, and pumping Erik for information
. “Do you have a castle too?” I ask him.
He chuckles as he bends over the table. His break is clean, and three balls fall into pockets, two stripes and a solid. “I don’t see you as a materialistic sort, princess.”
“Are you going to keep calling me that?”
His lips twitch. He lines up for his next shot and pockets another stripe. Damn Bastian. I thought Erik wasn’t supposed to be that good. “To answer your question, yes. The Valder family home is in Iceland. Near Drangajökull, in the northernmost tip of the country.”
He misses his next shot, and I chalk my cue stick and walk up to the table. “And your ancestors were Norse too, weren’t they?” I give him a sidelong glance as I try to decide on my target. “Let me guess. You’ve got Draupnir sitting in your vaults.”
Draupnir is a gold ring belonging to Odin. According to the legends, it can multiply itself. Every ninth night, eight new rings fall from the gold ring, each one the same size and weight as the original.
I’ve always thought that it was a mythological object, as real as the Holy Grail. Until Bastian casually mentioned owning Gungnir, Odin’s legendary spear. Now, I’m prepared to believe anything.
“Not Draupnir, no.” There’s something in his tone that makes me look up at him. “The most important artifact of the House of Valder is a hammer. Mjölnir.”
I totally miss my shot. My mouth falls open. “You have Thor’s hammer?”
He shrugs, though his eyes are dancing with laughter. “Dragons like their treasure, princess.”
No shit. I feel like I’m in the Twilight zone here. Good thing I have Brooke and Trendz tomorrow. Nothing like the grinding boredom of my job to pull me back to earth.
62
Aria
I have to work at Trendz at one, so Rhys says he’ll take me dress shopping in the morning. “Tasha’s an old friend,” he says. “She’ll open early if I ask nicely.”
“An old girlfriend?” Ugh. I sound jealous. Kill me now.
He chuckles. “Do I look stupid to you, love? Why would I take you to the boutique of an ex? Nope, Tasha used to be my assistant before deciding to pursue her passion.”
One of Tomas’ guards drives us to SoHo. The boutique appears deserted, but when Rhys taps at the door, it’s opened immediately, and a woman flings her arms around Rhys’ neck. “It’s so good to see you,” she says, before turning to me with a friendly smile. “And you must be Aria. Come on in.”
The two of us enter the boutique. The walls are covered with dove-grey silk. Enormous floor-to-ceiling mirrors hang on three sides, and the lighting manages to be both bright and flattering.
I’m having another Pretty Woman moment here.
Tasha is studying me. “Rhys did a pretty good job guessing your size,” she says, moving toward a rack of clothing. “I’ve pulled out a half dozen cocktail dresses that I think would be perfect.”
“Nothing black,” Rhys says promptly. “I don’t want Aria to blend in. She needs to stand out.”
I raise an eyebrow. Since when did Rhys have an opinion on what I wore? So far, he’s always seemed more interested in getting me out of my clothes.
“I hate being the center of attention,” I murmur to Rhys.
“Really?” His breath tickles at my ear. “I don’t remember you complaining when I was eating you out, love.”
I go beet-red, and Tasha notices. “Why don’t you try on anything that catches your eye?” she says to me, her voice kind. “If you don’t mind, I’m just going to the Starbucks next door to grab a cup of coffee. Can you lock the door behind me, so nobody wanders in?”
I flush even harder. “She knows we’re doing it,” I hiss to Rhys once she’s gone.
He chuckles. “I’m sure she does. Tasha was never stupid.”
This is mortifying, and Rhys is totally laughing at me. “I’m just here to try on clothes,” I tell him firmly.
“Of course, love,” he says agreeably.
Predictably, my resolve doesn’t last long.
I make sure the curtain is fully shut before pulling the royal blue dress over my head in the tiny changing room. I’m very aware that Rhys is just outside, and that we are completely alone. And of course, it’s turning me on.
Smoothing the dress over my hips, I step out of the changing room and walk to the three-sided mirror to take in my reflection. The dress fits like a glove, and the color makes my gray eyes pop, but it somehow doesn’t feel right.
“What do you think?”
Rhys shakes his head. “Try something else,” he suggests.
Tasha picked some beautiful dresses, and she stuck with Rhys opinion that I need to stand out. My eye keeps coming back to a shimmery silver silk dress. It’s deceptively simple in its design. From the front, the high neckline and hem that hits mid-thigh make it seem almost demure for a cocktail dress, but the back swoops down daringly low. I look through the dresses one more time, and come back to the silver.
It really is pretty.
I unhook my bra and pull the dress on. The fabric slides sensuously down my body, and I shiver at the sensation as the soft material moves over my bare nipples. I adjust the dress, then step out of the room.
Rhys tilts his head to the side and takes me in. His eyes land on my hardened nipples and turn heated.
“What do you think?” I ask.
“You look gorgeous, of course, but it’s not quite what I had in mind.”
I shrug my shoulders. “Okay, I’ll try on another,” I say before turning to the changing room. The low growl that emanates from behind me as Rhys takes in the back tells me the dress might be a little more of what Rhys had in mind after all.
I don’t even make it the two steps back into the room when Rhys’ arms snake around my waist from behind, his breath hot against my neck. The fabric of his clothes against the nakedness of my back is a tantalizing feeling. It makes me want to rub all over him to enjoy the sensation. Like a cat.
Rhys’ hands move over the silky-smooth material of the dress. His hand travels up to cup one of my breasts, and he moves the other down my stomach where it stops just shy of my pussy.
Damn it. I’m slick with desire and practically panting with anticipation. Don’t stop, Rhys. Keep going.
Rhys tweaks my nipple, and all thought flies out of my mind. “I thought you didn’t like the dress,” I gasp as his erection throbs against my backside.
“I may have been too hasty in that decision, love.”
I giggle as he turns me in his arms so fast the room spins, and moan as his lips crash down on mine. He pushes me up against a wall, and kisses me, darting his tongue along my lower lip. His stubble tickles my skin, and I giggle again. “More,” I demand. I’m so greedy, and I don’t care.
Rhys makes quick work of removing the dress, and I almost protest when it hits the ground in a puddle. It’s going to be a wrinkled mess, but then Rhys’ mouth is on my nipple, and I no longer care.
Rhys licks from one breast to the other, sucking and nibbling at my stiff peaks until I’m mindless with the sensation. My pussy spasms when he draws one bud into his mouth and nips lightly. Holy shit, I could come just from this.
I bury my hands in his hair and pull him close to me, silently demanding more. He answers that demand by sliding his hand into my panties and thrusting two of his thick fingers deep inside my pussy.
“Rhys,” I cry out, my orgasm crashing through me at warp speed. I don’t think I’ve ever come so hard or fast in my entire life.
He releases my nipple with a gentle flick of his tongue, and the arrogant dragon smirks at me as he licks his fingers clean. My mouth waters at the erotic sight. I want to taste him like he’s tasting me. I reach for his belt buckle, ready to fall to my knees and take his cock in my mouth when the tinkling sound of bells cuts through the silence in the store signaling Tasha’s return.
“Did you find something?” she calls from the front of the store.
I look at Rhys, panicked. It’s one thing to have sexy-times w
hile in a very empty public place, it’s a whole other thing to be caught having sexy-times in a public place. Rhys, his eyes dancing with amusement, takes pity on me. He picks up the silver dress and backs out of the dressing room, closing the curtain as he leaves.
I quickly dress in my street clothes and make my way to the front of the store where Rhys and Tasha are chatting.
“Aria, it was so good to meet you,” Tasha says with such sincerity it’s hard not to want to like her, even though she totally cockblocked me. Well, technically, that’s not correct. I got to come. It’s Rhys that got cockblocked, though he seems to be taking it in his stride.
“I’ll have the dress pressed and delivered to the penthouse,” Tasha continues. Judging from Rhys’ amused eyes, I’ve probably turned about ten shades of red. I’m beyond relieved when Rhys leads me out of the store. “Oh my God, she knows what we were doing.”
“Probably,” Rhys says with a careless shrug. “She’s never been stupid. Does it matter?”
I think about it and then shake my head. I lace my fingers in his, and we head back to the penthouse.
63
Aria
Saturday morning, Tomas finally locates Pauline Summers in a retirement home in Flushing. “She’s got dementia,” he tells us. “The place only allows two non-family visitors at a time.”
“I’m going,” I say promptly.
I’m expecting one of the dragons to offer to accompany me, but surprisingly, Silas gets to his feet. “I’ll go with Aria,” he says. “Unless you’re expecting trouble?”
Bastian shakes his head. “I got word this morning,” he says. “Raedwulf and his buddy were sighted in Wyoming. They spent a night with the Sentinel Pack in the Medicine Bow National Forest.”
I look up. “Are you going to hunt for them?”
He shakes his head. “The most important threat is Zyrian.”
