Dragon: The Clan Legacy Series

by J. S. Striker

  Which made her angrier.

  She glared at him in the dark. “You left me.”

  “I’m sorry,” Charlie said, keeping his voice low. “I had to. You were sick and I had to do something to help you.”

  “You left me,” she repeated, this time trying to disentangle from him. He kept his hands on her, dragging her closer. She resisted. “I thought you were dead.”

  “I’m sorry, Francesca.”

  “I thought I was alone.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  She would have said more, but he had already managed to pull her closer, had already managed to wrap his arms around her. A struggle between mind and action came—her body still trying to resist and her mind telling her to accept.

  Then her heart joined in, and it found it could no longer resist him.

  “Where were you?” she demanded.

  “I went back to find Red’s lair,” he explained in soft, soothing tones. “Found some potions for you, applied them the moment I found you again. Christ, Francesca—you were shaking badly. I had to do something.”

  There was a hint of desperation in his voice, along with something else. Her heart lurched. “My fever’s gone.”

  “The potion did it.”

  No. He did it.

  Then something else clicked in place, and her fingers gripped at—his chest, because somehow he had no shirt. “You cursed.”

  “What?”

  “You cursed. You never curse. And you’re always in control.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  But he did. She could tell it in the way he stood straighter, readying himself to retreat—to act cold again, as if nothing was wrong and nothing could ever faze him. But everything was wrong and she didn’t want him to act cold. She wanted him to lose his precious control, wanted more of his curses, wanted that perfect veneer to crack. When he made a move to back off, Francesca followed impulse like she usually did—only this time there was so much more at stake than she could count.

  She launched herself at him again and took his mouth in a surprise kiss.

  It was aggressive, and it was madness. She felt him go rigid against her, his hands going to her waist in a movement set to push her away. Stubborn woman that she was, she held on and kept on kissing him, tongue coming out to lick his lower lip and taste.

  She tried to ignore the rush in her body at the feel of him, tried to ignore how contrastingly perfect his hard body felt against her soft one. She even tried to ignore the low thrumming below her belly that was urging her to do more, urging her to lose herself in all of him.

  He wasn’t reciprocating. Charlie, the man she had been fighting her attraction from since they’d met, stood there like a rock. A damn, unresponsive rock.

  This was one-sided, and she was stupid.

  Despair hit her hard, along with embarrassment. Trying to hide such feelings, Francesca pulled away as slowly as she could, acting as cool as a cucumber. “Sorry about that, I was just teasing—”

  Her words were interrupted by hands tightening on her waist, and abruptly pulling her closer. She was lifted and held against a wall, and before she could protest or even think about anything further—

  A hard mouth was on hers, hot and very responsive.

  A body was pressing against hers, aroused.

  Dimly, Francesca felt his hardness against her thigh, felt his hand move from her waist to cup her chin. But all awareness flew out the window when he tilted her head to a better angle to receive his kiss, and his mouth started an onslaught that had her mind going blank.

  He kissed her like she was water, and he needed it more than anything else. It was demanding, and it was pure sensuality, and she couldn’t help but respond as he took her in a swirl of emotions that left her breathless and wanting more. Wanting to give as good as she got, Francesca stood on tiptoe and met his kiss head-on, and the battle between their lips ignited so much fire between them that she might as well have gotten burned and resurrected again. Then his tongue came out seeking hers, and she all but melted in his arms as he started a slow, thorough assault on every inch of her mouth and tongue.

  His other hand had wandered to the underside of her breast. Another inch and he would be able to cover it. Her nipples hardened, and an image seared in her brain of his thumb caressing her there. A sound came out of her lips, a needy moan that had her hands flying to his hard chest to touch.

  More. She wanted more.

  His kiss stopped at her moan, and his hand stopped inching higher. Slowly, his other hand slid down, stopping at her throat for a light touch before removing itself completely. His mouth followed. Then, his body.

  Silence penetrated the cave, broken only by her harsh breathing and her thundering heart. Her knees threatened to tremble, and Francesca locked them in place, leaning on the wall for support.

  Finally, Charlie spoke.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “This is a mistake.”

  She’d have been able to handle it had he said it with his usual no-nonsense tone, had he gone back to his cool veneer to keep himself from feeling. Instead, his voice was laced with regret—and worry, and something else that made handling it so much harder.

  Pity.

  Translation: he cared for her, but not enough for more.

  Her heart lurched again, but this time it was the bad kind. Confusion and disbelief clashed with each other, and she told herself that she was an adult and could handle anything.

  Even this.

  It was a thin lie, but she held on to it and held her head up high, staring blindly in his direction. “It sure is,” she said easily. “So how do we get out of here?”

  Her bright response must have taken him aback, as it took him a few seconds to respond. When he did, his voice was back to its usual cool demeanor. “I found the entrance to the cave and can lead us there. Do you trust me?”

  She did. Just not with her feelings.

  “Yes.”

  “Good. I’ll lead the way. Once we’re there, we can bide our time for the sun and the wind. The cave will open in no time.”

  “Good.”

  “I took some supplies, like food and blankets, from Red’s place in case we’ll be waiting long.”

  So effing efficient.

  “How brilliant.”

  She sensed him hesitating before he went on to ask. “Are you okay?”

  No, she wasn’t. But she had to be.

  “I’m fantastic. Let’s go.”

  There was no shake in her voice. That must have convinced him because he already started leading the way, confident she would follow. And so she did.

  Francesca used the dark to her advantage, concealing the silent, frustrated tears that came as she acknowledged one truth through all the roller coaster adventures she experienced since she’d left New York.

  She was developing feelings for the one man who would never feel the same way for her.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  There was nothing much to be done while waiting for the cave to open except discuss the things they would do once they were out of it. The first step was to track Mya as soon as they could, no matter how far she went or how deep she hid. There was always a trail left for these things, and if he could track Francesca with all her tenacity for hiding, he could definitely track Mya in no time. The second step was to rescue Red, who was trapped and in the hands of a witch who would do anything to save herself first. It wasn’t that he trusted Red—it was just that he distrusted Mya more, and Red would be more beneficial captured alive and in their hands than in the hands of a manipulative witch.

  The third and last step was making sure Francesca got home safe.

  And never, ever touching her again.

  The memory of their earlier kiss flashed through his mind, and he ruthlessly tried to hold it back like he did his other emotions. She was trouble, he told himself, and definitely more trouble than it was worth. She was also everything wrong for him, and initiating anything in the fi
rst place would only complicate matters. He didn’t want matters to complicate, because he had a life in Japan to get back to once this was all over. He also didn’t want to hurt her in the long run, which she was bound to get if he didn’t back off. That kiss earlier told him things, a lot of things, including the fact that when Francesca did something, she would give it her all—including risking her heart and her life in the process. She was so reckless, so quick to impulse, and the total opposite of his calm self.

  She was absolutely delicious. So delicious that he had to fight the groan and the urge to take her right there, on that damp cave floor. To touch every inch of her and follow it all with a thorough tasting until they were both steeped in the pleasure.

  She was absolutely, one hundred percent forbidden.

  And he wished she wasn’t.

  But wishing was for dreamers, and he’d never been one.

  They’d been waiting by the cave door for more than an hour now, sitting side by side against the wall. They’d eaten the food he took from Red’s place—a loaf of bread and some nuts and dried berries—and had drunk half of the canteen of water. They’d discussed their so-called plan in a rational, mature manner, and Francesca cracked her weird jokes enough times to let him know she was okay with what happened and had gotten over it. She was snarky at times, too, especially when she thought his plan was flawed. Good. It was good that she wasn’t affected. It was good that they were back to their old camaraderie, if you could call it that.

  A certain physical distance lay between them, and he made certain none of their body parts touched. Sometimes her scent would carry across his nose—faint but very alluring, and sometimes he had to deliberately keep his hands in his pockets to stop them from inching towards her.

  The silence went on, and they waited.

  Eventually, the sun shone and the wind rose—and the door to their freedom appeared, blinding them with its brilliant light at first. They both hurriedly stumbled out, just in time to hear the cave entrance-slash-exit close back behind them. The same spot of rivers and forest greeted them, on top of a cliff that was as naturally spectacular as ever.

  Charlie glanced at his side, where Francesca was looking quite dirty in her clothes, with some blood here and there and her hair a tangled mess. She eyed the landscape with a positive expression on her face before turning to him determinedly.

  “Take off your clothes and go be all dragon-y,” she commanded cheerfully.

  Even without the throaty voice, his body parts stood at attention. Gritting his teeth, Charlie kept his poker face and nodded at her to turn around.

  It was time to forget about personal matters now and get down to business.

  *****

  They went underground again, keeping a low profile while they figured out for themselves where exactly a witch wanted twice would hide. A few subtle inquiries and some innocent flirting on Francesca’s part gave them the hint of Mya’s last whereabouts—at a club in Hollywood frequented by people who sold magic, bought magic and knew magic. Considering they didn’t know how to enter without detection, and they weren’t exactly sure if said people were inclined to be nice to shifters to begin with, Francesca contacted a friend she said she could trust in times of need.

  They met the so-called friend a few blocks away from the nightclub, and Charlie was surprised to see a familiar face greet Francesca with a very familiar hug. He frowned. This was the boy she’d flirted with in the restaurant before, when Charlie had still been spying on her. He remembered the boy had his eyes all over her there, as if she were the most irresistible woman he’d ever met. Those same eyes roved her now, from her stilettos to the sparkly silver dress that hugged her every curve.

  “You look so good, Francesca,” he murmured, eyes flashing with barely concealed lust.

  Charlie’s frown deepened.

  The come-on-slash-compliment obviously went through Francesca’s head as she greeted him back with a more platonic hug and proceeded to launch into a short but very believable lie about why they needed to get in the club in the first place. The boy, named Aaron, took one look at Charlie and deduced he was some sort of guardian—or bodyguard, as she’d termed it—sent by her parents on some last-minute plea for her to return home. It was supposed to be a secret, too.

  A few battings of her eyelashes did the trick, and Aaron was leading them warmly in, assuring the entrance guard that they were good people with a meetup for some magic deal. Francesca’s pendant concealed her true nature, but the guard took a long look at Charlie, almost as if he could sense the dragon inside.

  “I’m her protector,” Charlie said calmly, alluding that she was from a very rich family. Which she was.

  The guard finally nodded. And they were in.

  Aaron wouldn’t leave Francesca alone, and Charlie did his best not to show his irritation. She, in turn, did her best to distract the boy, and finally made an excuse to go to the bathroom and get herself freshened up for her so-called meetup. This left the two men alone, and Charlie immediately turned his back on the other to start digging.

  To make sure the guard bought their story, Charlie made real on the pretense that they were meeting up with someone for a deal by chatting up a random stranger in the long bar as casually as he could. The fellow seemed nice enough—a witch named Danny who was selling some of his instant food potions so he could use the earnings to treat his wife to a vacation out of the state. Apparently, one sip of the potion would make the drinker full for a few hours, and also give the body the nutrients it needed. Charlie bought one for now, then circled the club in hopes of finding their target. He didn’t find any trace of Mya, but he did get in enough inquiries and pretension of being a die-hard witch worshipper to know that a powerful witch coven was recruiting some new members in the city for the weekend—particularly those who did not want any connection with the shifter and vampire communities.

  Definitely something to check out.

  Satisfied with the small lead, Charlie went on to find Francesca, figuring she was doing some of her own inquiries and confident she could handle it. He expected Aaron to be all over her again, and expected her to be able to twist him around her finger like she usually did most boys. A glimpse of her sparkly dress caught his eye, and Charlie turned his head in that direction and zoned in on her right away—all that near blinding silver and perpetually messy hair.

  He wasn’t prepared for what he saw.

  Francesca was with Aaron all right—in a corner of the club, with his hands all over her and his body trapping her in the corner. His mouth was on hers, and one of those wandering hands was already sliding down and eagerly inching her dress up.

  Charlie’s reaction was instantaneous. The emotion hit him like a volcano erupting, and he stalked in that direction without stopping and immediately put his hand on Aaron’s neck. His strength allowed him to pull the guy off in one move—and in another move, he had the guy in a chokehold.

  “Get out,” he said, voice hard.

  There was some wheezing, and Aaron could barely get a word out as he tried to flap like a fish. Coolly, Charlie let him go, and the guy stumbled out of the club without looking back, smelling of panic. Then he was gone, and Charlie’s barely restrained fury zoned in on the only person left.

  But not here. Forcing himself not to make a scene, he grabbed hold of her arm and dragged her away from the crowd, looking around until he found a small, locked office at the back of the club. It took him less than ten seconds to illegally unlock it, then he marched them both in and locked the door. The frosted glass gave them some dim light from the outside, and he turned to finally face her and harshly give her a lecture.

  Coffee eyes blurred with sheer lust that blasted him, and her mouth opened to utter a few broken words.

  “Sexualem potione,” she moaned, grabbing at his shirt. “I thought…plain drink. Stupid.”

  Things clicked into place. He’d heard of the sexual potion before—a highly dangerous one that made the drinker horny, with t
he need to alleviate said lust by attaining pleasure and orgasm as soon as possible. If the drinker didn’t, the aftereffects would be very painful.

  As if reading his thoughts, her body doubled over, and she nearly whimpered as her mouth trembled at the pain. “Hurts. Please.”

  And then it happened again. And again…and again.

  Seeing her hurt affected him like nothing did, and Charlie realized there was only one thing he could do to help her. Him, and no one else. His hands shook in indecision as he raised it in her direction, then froze in the air as he tried to get a hold of himself.

  Francesca sobbed at the pain.

  And Charlie’s indecision broke.

  In an instant he was on her, placing his mouth where he knew she would experience pleasure—the pulse on her throat, which beat faster when he sucked on it. His hands moved, sliding over her skin like it was the most fragile thing in the world. She urged him to touch her more, urged him with a breathless, needy voice to keep touching her.

  Blood pounded in his veins.

  It rushed up his brain, rendering it blank of any thoughts.

  Charlie moved her skirt up, baring thin, lace panties as the only barrier to wet, absolutely wet heat. His cock throbbed, and unable to help himself, he let his hands caress her thigh, marveling at the little trembles that came from his touch, the beautiful moan that came from her mouth.

  Business. This was business.

  “Your mouth,” she demanded.

  With a curse that he had never uttered before, Charlie ripped his mouth away from her throat and crashed it with her mouth, and the kiss that happened between them burned them both and took them to new heights. With a ragged breath, he tried to tell her he was sorry for what he was doing, even while every nerve in his body screamed at him to taste, to taste every inch.

  She bit his lower lip and slid her tongue out to taste his, and all apologies became lost.

  Francesca was absolutely delicious, and he could not resist this moment, no matter how hard he tried.

  She clung on to him like a passionate, wanton woman intent on driving him crazy, and his hands wandered to her firm ass that was soft to the touch. Desperate, his finger set her panty aside and slid in, where he sank into a wet, hot cavern meant for him.