Dragon: The Clan Legacy Series

by J. S. Striker

  Charlie ran to her, turning her to face him. Her eyes were closed and she was cold as ice to the touch. Fear gripped him like no other, and grief followed as he looked for a pulse.

  Then she coughed out water, and sat up like she’d swallowed something horrible.

  “Yech,” Francesca rasped out loud. Her body started trembling, great big shakes that had her teeth chattering and her hands clutching at his wet shirt.

  Charlie kneeled over her, his own hands patting her everywhere as the fear stood still.

  “Francesca?”

  She looked him in the eye, and her gaze lit up at the sight of him. “You’re okay,” she said through chattering teeth.

  “You’re okay,” he said back, murmuring the words.

  “Dandy,” she chirped. As if realizing she had her hands on him, Francesca made a conscious effort to remove them, digging them in the sand below her and trying to smile. “Just dandy.”

  Perhaps it was the smile that did him in—wobbly at best, totally out of place. Or perhaps it had been brewing long before this, just beneath the surface where he chose not to notice. His tightly gripped control snapped, and desire came pouring out in waves as he stared at the woman who had been haunting his dreams for who knew how long now. Charlie did the only sane—or insane—thing at the moment. With both of them wet and shivering, he pulled her towards him, wrapped his arms around her. Francesca opened her mouth, confused, as her hands flew back to his chest to stop the impact.

  He cut off whatever words were about to come out by placing his mouth there and kissing her hard.

  There was a definitive moment when Francesca stilled, her hands tightening into fists and her eyes going wide. Then that moment was gone as she splayed her hands on him, a sigh going out of her lips as she kissed him back.

  And he knew there was no going back.

  Hands moved. His own restless hands touched her everywhere, finding cold skin heating up beneath him. Wonderful sounds were coming out of her mouth, and unable to get enough, Charlie proceeded to place her back on the sand and move on top of her, where he continued his ministrations and intended to make her feel more.

  Her wet clothes were in the way, and he had gone impatient. Charlie heard a ripping sound, heard Francesca pleading more as he nipped her neck and tasted her there. Her own hands didn’t behave, as they touched him everywhere as well—his hair, his shoulders, down to his stomach…

  He groaned when she touched his hardness, tentative at first. He streaked kisses down her, pulling her nipple to his mouth, firm for him. His hand massaged the other, and she writhed beneath him and moaned.

  With frantic hands, she removed his shirt and slipped down inside his pants to take him out. He only took a few seconds to ease his finger inside her before his erection replaced it, sliding inside her. He slid up to the hilt, just as his mouth came back to take hers in a greedy, hungry kiss.

  He was blind with need. They were both blind with it, and they wasted no time in setting the rhythm as he thrust and she accepted, as she wrapped her legs around him and kissed him back like she meant it. Francesca was tight and wet, and it was all he could do not to explode as pleasure so intense hit him with his every thrust. Her hands clung to his shoulders, then his back, and his own brought her closer.

  “I’m…”

  She didn’t get to finish her sentence. Francesca exploded around him, clenching around him and making his vision tunnel. It only took a few more thrusts, a few more desperate kisses. She kissed him back, sweetly.

  Then he, too, followed her into oblivion.

  *****

  The cold got to them eventually—which was why they needed to get up and find shelter. Just in time, too, as rain started to fall.

  They snuck into a nearby motel, with Charlie promising himself that he would pay the owner right after they snuck back out. They took a hot shower, where he couldn’t help himself from touching her and making her moan out his name as she trembled all over again. She was absolutely delicious, and he couldn’t get enough.

  There was complimentary food in the fridge, and they ate what they could. With no clothes other than the motel’s free robes and weariness hitting them hard, they decided to bury under the covers and think their plans over. One incessant thought kept popping up in his head, though, and he had to ask.

  “Was that your first?”

  Francesca, in the middle of biting a cold banana muffin, tensed. Her back was to him, and the silence that followed settled over them for a while. Then she braced herself and turned to him, expression stubborn.

  “Yes, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to cling. It also doesn’t mean I’m going to be some one-night stand—”

  Before she could finish her rant, he pulled her against him, the muffin flying from her hand. Charlie rolled her down.

  “I merely meant,” he whispered against her lips, “that I was too fast, and you need to enjoy your first time…over and over.” His voice had turned low, and she gulped. Francesca licked her lower lip.

  “Well…the night is still young,” she said, tone hushed and hopeful. “We can…go all night.”

  With a smile, Charlie leaned down to kiss her, intent on showing her exactly what he thought of that idea.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  The next morning, reality came crashing as their search for the two witches started again. Charlie was sweet and everything, but Francesca knew she had to face a truth that had long been staring at her, and one she stubbornly kept putting aside.

  Charlie was one of the best shifters and fighters there was, a key person in the shifter world. And Francesca? She was the lost one, a dead weight who would only weigh him down in the long run.

  He didn’t need that.

  And perhaps she was just too stubborn to ask to be in his life.

  With those troubled thoughts kept inside her and locked tight, Francesca placed her full effort into helping out Charlie with their remaining clues—the map that was still with her, along with the pendant that had broken when they escaped Mya’s clutches. As it was, Mya wasn’t exactly the most precise of hiders. She liked showing off, and with no link like Francesca who had the talent for making deals as inconspicuously as possible, the witch had no choice but to make deals and earn the money herself.

  The last trail she left was in New Jersey—a most surprising location, considering there weren’t many magic dealers there. But news came from Charlie’s dragon leader, Henrik, that trouble had been detected there just a few days ago, and it didn’t take a genius to deduce who may have caused it.

  So with as much caution as possible, and vampires and a coven possibly on their trail, Charlie and Francesca traveled to New York’s neighboring state, making sure they themselves didn’t leave any trail behind. Mya was apparently spotted at a carnival near a beach—or rather, someone who looked like her, according to reports. The carnival was at its full swing by the time they got there, with teenagers roaming everywhere and kids of every age enjoying the event.

  “Not a good place for a witch,” Francesca muttered under her breath.

  “Or maybe the perfect place,” Charlie murmured. His eyes surveyed the area, watchful and concise as he took the children in. Then he tensed, gray eyes narrowing at a certain point.

  Francesca turned to look. She found Mya standing on the other end, a silhouette of beauty. The witch smiled, then twisted her finger for them to follow. Then she disappeared in the direction farthest away from them, headed towards…the house of mirrors.

  “So predictable,” Francesca couldn’t help commenting as she rolled her eyes.

  As if amused, Charlie squeezed her hand before pulling her in that direction. “Not everyone’s as odd as you.”

  The good mood dipped once they approached the house of mirrors, which was apparently closed for renovation. With more caution than ever, and now relying on their human abilities alone (since Charlie still couldn’t shift), they went inside, initially amazed at the sight of mirrors all over. It reflecte
d so many beautiful colors, confusing and mesmerizing at the same time.

  “How’s the shifting, pretty boy?”

  Mya’s pleasant voice came from somewhere on the right, and Mya’s reflection scattered all over the mirrors. Charlie didn’t respond, merely crept closer, so Mya continued talking.

  “The coven is a dear friend of mine, and they did a very good job with your particular set of skills.”

  The statement, after their near-death experience, was said so callously that Francesca felt her temper start to ignite. “Is that why you weren’t there, then? Because your dear coven didn’t know about your liaison with your beloved shifters and vampires?”

  Mya laughed, high and rich. “My coven will never trust your word against mine. They think I’m being framed. But I’m beginning to think they’re having their doubts.”

  With that parting word, the reflection in the mirrors disappeared as Mya stepped out from the left. Francesca made a move forward, but Charlie’s hand on her arm stopped her. A few seconds in, she finally realized why. Behind Mya was Red, tied up and gagged with a chain, with one eye slid shut and the other looking at them steadily on. Mya placed her hand on the other witch’s head, sending her crashing to the ground.

  Francesca’s blood ran cold at the sight.

  “I have a bargain,” Mya said softly.

  “You’re sick,” Francesca snapped.

  “I wasn’t talking to you,” Mya snapped back. “Don’t meddle.” Then she turned to Charlie and smiled. “A bargain.”

  Charlie didn’t blink, gaze on her the entire time. “Hmm?”

  “I want you to tell the whole community to grant me freedom in exchange for this precious bitch.”

  The chain was yanked forward, and Red stumbled on the ground. Charlie’s hand still on Francesca’s arm prevented her from moving forward.

  “What makes you think I have the power to grant you that?” Charlie asked in a cool manner.

  Mya smirked. “Oh, you have the power—through Henrik. I hear she’s pretty important to that man.”

  The mention of Charlie’s dragon leader took Francesca by surprise, even as her mind furiously looked for a way to create a diversion. She quietly stepped back as Charlie and Mya continued talking, with Mya silkily bargaining term after term with the dragon shifter and Charlie calmly, politely dissuading every single one. With Charlie’s smooth tones fluffing Mya’s ego, nobody noticed as Francesca stepped to the side, where she had a clearer view of Red.

  The tied up witch wasn’t as unconscious as she had first thought. While Red’s face was still on the ground, Francesca could see her eyes open from this line of vision, though she was breathing hard. Her body was also trembling, as if the effort of keeping herself still was taking a toll on her.

  A surge of pity came across Francesca. It was followed by anger.

  She would have done something—anything—at that moment had it not been for Charlie’s and Mya’s voices suddenly raising. She heard Charlie refuse one more time, his voice turning hard and unrelenting. Then Mya’s voice, shrieking in indignation and petulance.

  What happened next was too fast for Francesca to react right away.

  Mya lifted her hand at the same time Charlie ran for Red. The indication was clear, as rapid chants came out of Mya’s lips and red sparks appeared on her fingers. Francesca knew that spell, had seen it before. It sped out of her, headed straight for Red, and Charlie was still running in that direction as fast as his speed could carry him. Everything clicked.

  The man she loved was going to die in front of her eyes.

  It was her one and only catalyst. Before she could think, Francesca was already sprinting in their direction, her hand going for the potion Red had given her in her pocket. She was closer to Red, and was able to reach her just as the first spark hit.

  The potion scattered to the ground, glass breaking and liquid touching their skin—hers and Red’s. It wasn’t supposed to be used like that; it was highly dangerous to do so, but there had been no choice. Charlie changed direction and tackled the surprised Mya, throwing his phone at Francesca and instructing her to call Henrik and ask him to come.

  Pain echoed at her side, but Francesca gritted her teeth and with trembling fingers, looked for Henrik’s name and dialed. Mya was screaming in the background as a male voice answered.

  “78th street, carnival. Mirror house. Emergency. Charlie needs you.”

  The phone fell to the floor, and dizziness took over. Still, from the background, Francesca could hear Charlie’s voice, urgently telling her to hold on and not to fall asleep.

  She nodded her head, leaning against the now-unconscious Red.

  Then Francesca closed her eyes and went right to sleep.

  *****

  When Francesca woke up, she found herself surrounded by perhaps the most famous creatures in their side of the world, and…others.

  Dylan Masters, head of all shifters worldwide, was standing over the restrained Mya, and speaking with a man that was perhaps one of the most dazzlingly handsome she’d seen in a while. Henrik, she presumed. On the other side was Lucinda Bennett—leader of the vampire clan and arguably one of the most dangerous creatures there was. God, but she was beautiful. Ethereal.

  But yes, absolutely deadly.

  The fear in Mya’s eyes was enough confirmation as it was.

  A warm hand swept her hair aside.

  “Hey.”

  Charlie's raw voice made her heart skip a beat. She looked up, her eyes meeting smoky, intense ones. It was like a steady balm, calming her as much as making every nerve in her body race. In response, she tried to act as calmly as possible.

  “Hi. What did I miss?”

  A small smile slid up Charlie’s mouth. “Mostly some ugly scenes. The demon arrived.”

  Something sounded wrong with that statement, but she pushed on because it seemed important.

  “And?”

  “Lucinda bargained to get her for a week. Then Mico can have her after. We get Red.”

  Red. A vision of the quiet, confident witch came to mind, but she couldn't remember much after that. Francesca tried to focus on the odder name.

  “Mico?”

  Charlie frowned. “Mico. The demon.”

  The warning bells rang. Francesca sat up and faced him.

  “What demon?”

  Charlie stilled. Belatedly, she realized he wasn't the only one as a hush fell around them. She was so confused, and she had a lot of blanks in her mind. Francesca tried to remember everything, but she was having a very hard time, and her brain started to hurt. She turned to Charlie expectantly.

  “What happened after we got out of the cave?”

  Charlie's eyes remained steady, still. Silence ensued.

  Then he nodded his head, tone calm. “Things. You're safe now. Let me take you home.”

  The answer was flat, almost emotionless. Francesca felt a pang, though she couldn't understand why. She remembered kissing Charlie in that cave, and too many feelings came to the surface. But he felt nothing, obviously.

  And her head really was aching.

  With a sigh, Francesca closed her eyes again. “Sleepy.”

  Hands rested on her neck, a warm caress. “Rest now. You're going to be okay.”

  It was the bluntest statement ever.

  But she found that she could trust it with all her heart.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Things happened out of Charlie’s control, and he did his best to keep it all in stride and work on the things that he could work on.

  First, he told Lucinda about the vampires that had been trailing them and trying to kill Francesca all through their journey, keeping his voice polite and slightly curious—after all, this was the vampire head he was speaking with, and it wouldn’t do to anger her right off. Lucinda merely frowned, obviously disturbed at the idea of vampires attacking without her consent and promising she was going to get to the bottom of it. Charlie supposed that meant she was going to get those vampire
s eliminated, if he based things on rumors. She really did have a stellar, merciless reputation, even when she married dragon shifter Finn, who looked as harmless as a fly.

  Second, he talked to Dylan, who congratulated him on a job well done—apparently, catching two wanted witches and a missing wealthy daughter set him for life, and they were going to take it easy on his missions from now on. Charlie diverted the topic by telling them about the coven they discovered and the possible threat it posed for their clans, which Dylan said was concerning. There were so many loose threads, and with Dylan being very busy, it looked like someone had to keep a good eye on Red and find out more.

  Third, he had to take Francesca home.

  She was still unconscious, but their good witch accomplice, Sophia, had just arrived and confirmed that Francesca was going to be all right. Apparently, the potion was so powerful that even when it wasn’t drank, the healing effects still took place in some aspects. Unfortunately, the loss of memory that came along with it also took place, though not as predicted. Francesca was going to forget some, if not all—and judging from her look earlier and her innocent expectation, she hadn’t remembered anything beyond the kissing in the cave.

  It was the biggest sign in the world to lay off her now.

  There were more discussions and more things to take care of once they got back to New York, and Mico, the creepy demon, had just completely removed his goons from the premises when Red finally woke up, right in the middle of being healed from her bruises by Sophia.

  The witch took one look at her surroundings, focusing on Henrik. There was no flicker of recognition there as she uttered her first words.

  “What’s going on?”

  Lucinda raised a brow, then nodded at Dylan. “Looks like you’ve got a plateful in your hands. I’ll be going now.”

  And then the vampire was gone, taking Mya with her and leaving them with one very confused witch.

  *****

  As it turned out, Red’s loss of memory was even more extensive than Francesca’s. Because she had no scars or long-term pain that needed to be healed, the memory aftereffect was what clung to her like a vise, wiping out everything. None of them were sure how long the effects would last, not even Sophia—and so the best thing to do was to lock Red up and wait, because it didn’t seem like she was going to be much of a source at the moment.