A Dragon Gambles For His Girl: A Nocturne Falls Universe story

by Kira Nyte

  “Not worth the troubles the woman caused.”

  Mark leaned back into the sofa and let out a long, resigned breath. “You know it’s hard for Keepers to find a match. Our genes won’t allow for a woman to conceive unless her genes can withstand our mutations. When we were thrown into this world, loneliness became a reality. Mike was lucky. He found a woman who was able to conceive a gift to you. I have always imagined being a father. It was a dream of mine. Ariah became the child I never had.”

  “She will continue to be, but we do need to figure out a way to get her father out of jail before the real threat finds him.”

  “I’ll give my contact a call and see if he’s made headway on the case.”

  Alazar gave a one-shoulder shrug and rose to his feet, swirling the ice in his glass. Mark’s expression turned from self-pitying to cautious curiosity.

  “You have that look about you, Alazar. What are you thinking?”

  “Oh, nothing.”

  “Uh, no. It’s not nothing.”

  “Two words. Put them together. Jail.” He rested his tumbler on the sideboard. “Break.”

  “That’s brilliant. Not only will my brother be a fugitive with local law enforcement and the FBI after him, nothing screams attention to our enemies like a potential connection to our breed’s sudden escape from jail. And where do you think he should go?”

  “Home.”

  He spoke his answer telepathically, and almost immediately felt a strengthening in the house’s magical presence that left him uneasy.

  “I’m going to check on Ariah.” He glanced at his watch. “I want to stop at Delaney’s on the way home to pick up some truffles. I’m craving sweets. Where’s Ariah’s room?”

  “I’ll show you.”

  Alazar kept his eyes peeled and his senses honed for any sign of the witch stalking around the house as he followed Mark up the grand stairway and down a hallway until they came to the second door. He was surprised by Miriam’s lack of welcome for her husband’s friend, at least pretending to be a good hostess, but hey. He really didn’t care. His concern was Ariah, and he would be lying if he said his negative impression of his Keeper’s wife hadn’t been swayed. Distance between them might be a good thing.

  Mark knocked on the closed door. “Honey, you need a hand in there?”

  The door pulled open a moment later. Ariah stood in a towel, her skin damp and her hair dripping around her shoulders. Her face was rosy from the heated water. The delicious scent of flowers and apples filled Alazar’s nostrils. He leaned against the wall and cast his eyes to the floor.

  He did not need to see her like this right now. All the sweetness he needed stood a few feet away.

  “I’m sorry. I wanted to jump in the shower. I have everything packed up for a couple of nights.” Ariah’s bashful gaze burned into his head until he looked up. “Just in case.”

  “Good thinking,” Alazar said, unable to temper the gravelly husk of his voice. He cleared his throat. “Want us to grab your things now while you change?”

  Ariah turned back to the room, leaving the door open. Alazar headed in, but Mark stayed in the hallway.

  “I’ll meet you downstairs.”

  Alazar nodded as his Keeper closed the door. Ariah had disappeared into the adjoining bathroom, thankfully, leaving him to handle the consequences of her appearance. He looked over the room, decorated with a basic appeal to any guest. The bags of clothing and accessories he had purchased yesterday were piled on a bench against the far wall. A few items hung over the sides.

  Rounding the bed, he gathered up the bags as Ariah, dressed, emerged from the bathroom. Her brows hiked upward.

  “My bag is on the bed.” Ariah pointed to the simple duffel resting alone on the white comforter. “Planning on returning the purchases?”

  “Thought you’d like choices.”

  Ariah laughed, brushing her side bang from her eye. She had pulled her hair half up. “Trying to get me to settle in with you so soon, I see.”

  “Trying to alleviate the stress of returning back here, under the circumstances. I’d rather set you up at a bed-and-breakfast in town than experience the anxiety you suffer stepping foot in this house.” Alazar winked. “However, why break our streak now? You spent last night at my house.”

  Ariah tilted her head, thrusting her sweet lower lip out in a thoughtful motion as she came closer.

  “In the guest room.”

  “That can be rectified.”

  She stood before him, pressed to her toes, and laid a soft kiss on his lips that burned him up from toes to head. “Mmm. I think that would be a good idea.”

  “Oh, so do I.”

  Alazar focused on keeping his breaths steady as she lowered to her heels, her palm trailing down his chest until it dropped to her side. She sat on the edge of the bed and tugged on her boots, then slung her duffel over her shoulder.

  “Ready?”

  “After you, Ace.”

  Alazar adjusted the bags to get through the door and followed Ariah to the stairs. The witch’s energy that had hummed through the mansion since they arrived erupted, instantly placing him on guard.

  He found Mark waiting at the bottom of the stairs.

  A woman, brunette and willowy, drew her slender fingers over Mark’s shoulder as she began to climb the stairs. Her viperish gaze on Ariah, a cold smirk crossed red-painted lips. Alazar held the dragon in tight restraints.

  “Farewell, dear step-niece. Our time, sadly, was so short.”

  Then, Miriam lifted her gaze to Alazar.

  Her smile dropped at the same time the world closed in on him. He stared at her, his feet moving of their own accord down the stairs, but his attention focused on the witch. Dark eyes flecked with silver. A strange, static-like shift around her brunette hair revealed streaks of black.

  Glamour. Very strong glamour.

  Alazar followed the witch with his eyes, their passing like a slow motion video. Their gazes stayed locked. Alazar shut down his expression to nothing more than stoic. He leashed his dragon as the beast raged to get free. His lungs burned with a mixture of fire and smoke he refused to exhale.

  More static. More short-circuited magic that revealed the truth beneath the seductive witch.

  A hint of a black tattoo along her neck.

  “Mark, get my jewel. And don’t make it obvious.”

  “Why?”

  “Just do it!”

  His brain tried to process what was happening as his body continued to move on autopilot. Only when he couldn’t watch Miriam any longer did he finally tear his gaze from her and finish his descent.

  “Alazar?”

  Ariah’s concerned voice filtered into his mind. What should have calmed him ignited a fierce explosion of urgency. He had to work triple-hard to keep his calm and laid-back manner as he stepped off the last stair and casually pressed a kiss to Ariah’s temple. As he did, he cut his heavy-lidded gaze to the loft over the foyer. Miriam watched him with narrowed eyes, her expression anything but seductive. A moment later, she turned on her heel and disappeared down another hallway.

  “Everything is okay, sweetheart.” He herded her in the most gentle of manners into Mark’s office. Alazar was thankful Mark had closed his office doors, otherwise Miriam would have seen his Keeper retrieving the box with his jewel and its key from a hidden shelf in the bookcase.

  Mark turned, his expression full of unspoken questions. He crossed the room and held out the box. Alazar grabbed his wrist, burning his gaze into his Keeper’s.

  “Do not question me, Mark. Get your keys. You are coming with us.”

  “I shouldn’t—”

  Alazar’s upper lip peeled away from partially formed dragon fangs. Smoke filtered through his teeth. Ariah stepped up beside them, a hand coming down on Alazar’s.

  “Now.” Alazar hissed the word as low as he could. “Right. Now.”

  Alazar grabbed the box and stuffed it into a pocket on the inside of his jacket.

  “Al
—”

  Alazar pressed a finger to Ariah’s lips, silencing her with the motion and a hard glance. Her eyes widened. He pursed his lips in a silent “shh” and snapped his attention back to Mark. He gave a sharp jerk of his head toward the door and ushered both Mark and Ariah from the office.

  “How about I whip up dinner tomorrow? Maybe it’ll help with the tensions, hmm?” Alazar asked, slapping a relaxed smile on his mouth while he simmered under his skin. Mark’s creased brows and displeasure at being forced from his home without explanation shadowed his face. “I think it’s only proper.”

  Mark played along. “Sounds good. Do you still make a mean cordon bleu?”

  Alazar kept a hand on Ariah’s hip, his fingers tense. He sensed her confusion as thick as fog, but to his relief, she kept quiet and watched the spectacle between him and Mark as his Keeper suggested, “Or how about that steak saltimbocca?”

  “Whichever you’d like. Ace? Do you prefer chicken or steak?”

  “Uhh…chicken?” Her brows furrowed, glancing up at him as they moved closer to the door to the front porch. “What the heck is going on here? I think I just stepped into an alternate reality.”

  Alazar’s eyes flashed. He caught the flames’ obscuring slashes in his vision. Ariah’s hard swallow confirmed it.

  “Chicken it is. I’ll make the saltimbocca next time.”

  “Mark, darling. Where are you going?”

  Mark paused, keys in hand, and turned to the stairs. Ariah stiffened against Alazar. Alazar dared to cast the witch a look. She was all coy, sensual appeal standing at the head of the stairs.

  “I forgot some paperwork in the car. I’d like to see my niece out as well. I’ll be back shortly.”

  Miriam tilted her chin skyward, her eyes narrowing. She stared down the fine, sharp slant of her nose.

  At Alazar.

  Alazar flashed her a smile, waved, and pushed Ariah out the door, pretending to trip over the threshold as he went.

  Mark closed the door behind them. Alazar handed off half the bags to Mark, forcing him down the sidewalk and to the driveway. He dug out his car keys and slapped them into Ariah’s hand.

  “Open the trunk and then get in the car. Now.”

  “What is—”

  “Hurry,” Alazar snapped. Ariah began to protest. She must have seen something in Alazar’s face because she nodded, turned, and jogged the rest of the way to the Mustang. The trunk popped open and Alazar headed that way. To Mark, he said, “You. Follow me and don’t you dare, under any circumstances, answer your phone.”

  “Alazar, would you like to tell me—”

  Alazar flashed him a smile that was anything but happy. “Sure.”

  Ariah dropped into the passenger seat and pulled the door closed. Alazar shoved the bags in the trunk, closed it, and rounded to the driver’s side as Mark jammed his share of bags into his Jaguar. He paused when he opened the driver’s side door and looked at Alazar over the roof.

  “You’ve been duped, my dear friend. And now our enemies know exactly where we are.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Ariah couldn’t shake the persistent waves of cold from her skin. They came from someplace deep inside her body, leaving her arms and legs covered in goose bumps. Even with the heat that rolled off Alazar, the chill seemed impenetrable.

  She dared a glance at the speedometer as Alazar opened up down the low-traffic back roads. They were five minutes from her uncle’s house, her uncle’s Jaguar riding their back bumper, and Alazar had said nothing about his strange behavior and sudden onset of caution. She figured he didn’t care for Miriam either. Her gut instinct about the woman had warned her that beneath the pretty, made-up, fashionable woman facade lay nothing but pure black evil. Her dragon man’s intuition was probably ten times better than hers and his unease began the moment they started down the stairs.

  A sharp cuss fled Alazar’s mouth, catching her completely off guard, the foul word fleeing his lips so sharp it made her gasp.

  “Alazar, what is it? Tell me.”

  “I think I just figured out how the Baroqueth found Kaylae a few months ago. Miriam works at the credit union, right?”

  Dread began to pour down her spine. “Yes.”

  “Kaylae was never taught in her powers. She had no clue how to scramble her aura and Miriam picked up on it.” Fire burned in Alazar’s eyes when he chanced a split-second glance at her. He was going way too fast not to have his full attention on the road. Not even his speed could match the sickening churn of her stomach over the puzzle pieces dropping into place. “Mark taught you how to protect yourself and conceal the truth of who you are. That’s the only reason she wasn’t able to figure out who and what you are. She probably didn’t realize precisely why she was drawn to you. Mark as well. Your father’s powers are dormant. Her draw was to you, not him. As with Mark. Her focus has been on you.”

  The cold turned to ice. She shivered.

  “You’re not making sense.”

  “Miriam is Baroqueth. She’s a witch, too. Her sorceress blood is diluted, but her magic is still powerful. Her glamour is impressive, but it couldn’t stay in place against my sight.” He wrung the steering wheel, his nails tapering to talon points. Ariah tried to swallow, but her throat had gone dry. “Have you always seen her eyes? Dark with silver flecks?”

  “Yes.”

  “That is a key characteristic of the Baroqueth. Dark, almost black, eyes. Flecks of silver, circulating power. They usually have tattoos on their neck, sometimes their faces. Runic, power binding tattoos to harness their powers and make them stronger. Their hair is black.”

  Ariah squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head, trying to digest this information. “Miriam has brown hair. And just because her eyes are dark with silver flecks doesn’t mean she’s an enemy. She’s evil, but she’s not our enemy.” Her voice trailed off as she looked at Alazar again. His expression was fierce and dangerous, so unlike him and yet perfectly him. “She can’t be. Can she?”

  “Trust your intuition, Ace. Take the gamble. What do you think?”

  Her heart and her stomach plummeted to her feet. “For ten years?”

  “You’re stronger than you think. She couldn’t break your shield, if I were to guess. It pissed her off because she couldn’t get a read on you or Mark. She bided her time and it paid off.” He scowled, releasing a sound that vibrated in her marrow. Smoke created a thin haze inside the car. “Because of me. She recognized me.”

  “How?”

  “It’s not hard to remember eight faces. I’m sure the Baroqueth have figured out a way to share our likenesses with their descendants.”

  “But…but why wouldn’t she have tried to go after Zareh again? Why wait?”

  Alazar ground his teeth, but remained silent. Ariah ached to crawl over to him and curl up on his lap. She wanted to feel the security, the promise of safety in his arms.

  The formidable man beside her reached for the touchscreen on the dash and pulled up his phone directory. He commanded the system to call Zareh and Cade on a conference call.

  Cade answered first, a gruff greeting that sounded more like grinding rocks than a voice. Zareh answered a ring later.

  “Three way?” Zareh asked. In the background, Ariah could hear laughing and music. “Are you on your way home? We’ve got Nick and Willa here with Ivan and Monalisa. Pandora and Cole are on their way and I have the grill fired up.”

  “We’ve got a problem,” Alazar said shortly. “Mark’s wife is Baroqueth.”

  Silence. Dead, devoid of life, silence. Stifling silence that nearly drowned out the masculine roar of the Mustang’s engine. Every hair on Ariah’s body tingled with fear.

  “Are you certain?” Cade asked.

  “For once, Cade, I’m not screwing around. She’s been hiding behind some strong magic. She’s not full-blooded, but she’s in league. I saw the tattoos. She works at the credit union.”

  “Kaylae had mentioned—”

  “Exactly. She recogn
ized Kaylae and probably tipped off her buddies. I have Mark tailing me back home, Zar. We’re going to need to come up with something, and fast. She knows where we live, and she knows we’re on to her. Cade, we need to get Ariah’s father out of jail before the Baroqueth get to him.”

  “I’ll be there within the next few hours,” Cade said. His line disconnected. The background noise from Zareh’s line had faded, as though he’d gone into another room and closed the door. Ariah looked at her uncle’s headlights in the side-view mirror.

  “What do you want to do, Zareh? I’m willing to return to The Hollow, but I know you’ve got your feet pretty well planted in Nocturne Falls.”

  “We’ll get through this together,” Zareh said. “I’ll put a call out to Sheriff Merrow. I think our barbeque is going to have to be a strategy planning session. Careful, brother.”

  “You, too.” Alazar ended the call, but his shoulders, his entire body, remained stiff. Ariah slipped her fingers over his forearm, cautious not to rile the dragon treading so close to the surface. “You’ll be fine, Ace.”

  “Will you?” She grabbed the dashboard when he took a steep curve. The tires squealed, but he maneuvered the vehicle with envious precision. Her uncle never came off their bumper.

  “Humor me, sweetheart. Would you choose forever with a dragon or a life of freedom and luxury?”

  Ariah gaped. “What kind of question is that?”

  “A brutally honest question.”

  It was a no-brainer for her. “Forever with a dragon. With my dragon. I don’t need luxury. I’ve done without it for years. And freedom? I would be free with you. Where is this coming from?”

  “My heart.”

  Ariah’s brows creased, the shameless truth of his answer stealing her own heart from her chest and delivering it to Alazar on a golden platter. His sincerity filled the dark void inside her soul until she was bursting with warmth and completion.

  Could it be love? So soon?

  As quickly as her joy blossomed, another anchor of dread pulled it back down. “Why does that sound like you’re expecting something really bad to happen?”

  Alazar released one hand from the wheel and clasped her hand, bringing her knuckles to his lips. “As long as there is breath in my lungs, nothing bad will happen.”