by Paula Quinn
“I wouldn’t let you fall.”
“No?” She sat in a high seat at the island and smiled into Carina’s beautiful, green eyes. “What would you do?” She turned to look at him. She wanted to ask him if he would fly, proving he wasn’t as dedicated to his promise to keep Drakkon out of the sky, as he’d claimed. If he was lying about one thing, he was likely lying about it all. It would make everything so much easier.
He stretched out his arm then snapped it back instantly and gave her a triumphant grin. “I have lightning fast reflexes.”
She laughed, thinking that if he weren’t a fire-breathing Drakkon, he’d be damned adorable, quite possibly the most charming man she’d ever known. How could he look the way he did and not be the most conceited being alive? Instead, he seemed awkward and unfamiliar with women. She wondered again about women in his life. Surely there had to be some.
“So, Garion,” she asked watching him rummage through the enormous refrigerator, “how do you keep women away? I know you’re a hermit, but do you live in a cave or something?”
He looked over his shoulder and cast her a wry smile before returning to his search for mayo.
Helena waited for his reply and when none came, she scowled at his back. He wasn’t going to willingly tell her anything. More extreme measures were going to be necessary. When he turned, his big arms filled with ingredients, she hurried to help.
He refused her offer but she stepped in his path and stopped in front of him. Without touching her, he made her quiver at the suppressed strength of his body.
She stared up at him, fighting not to wilt. She plucked three cucumbers and two containers from his arm. “Do you keep them away from here, too?”
“Yes,” he answered on a husky breath that sent fire down her spine.
“Why me?” she asked pressing the containers to her chest. “Why did you bring me here and no one else? Don’t evade the answer, Garion. Tell me or I’m leaving.”
“Blackmail?” he asked, raising his brow.
She tossed him a beguiling smile as she turned toward the island counter. “It’s only blackmail if you don’t want me to leave.”
“I see,” he said, following her and setting down his bundle next to hers. “Well, I don’t want you to leave, which also answers your question as to why I invited you to come here.”
“Hmm.” She tilted her face to him and smiled. She liked his answer. She’d accepted his invitation for the very same reason. Could she be as honest with him?
A flash of sunlight set fire to his eyes as he stepped toward her, reminding her of what lay dormant in his heart. “Who are you, Garion? You could be the deadliest threat to mankind, or you could be… someone different.”
He leaned in until they almost shared breath, his gaze, potent and powerful, drawing her closer. Her heart nearly burst through her ribs at the slight flare of his nostrils, the subtle tightening of his lips as he fought the desire gleaming in his eyes.
He didn’t press his mouth to hers but reached for her hand. Slipping his fingers under hers, he drew her knuckles to his lips for a lush, lingering kiss that shook her to her core.
“I’m someone different,” he said, straightening.
His phone rang, thankfully pulling Garion a safer distance away and giving her time to compose herself. When had this turned so serious? Why wasn’t she running? Alerting The Bane, the Elders? Common sense had abandoned her.
“Sure, no problem. See you later then, buddy.” He set his phone down on the countertop and looked at her. “It’s just going to be us for lunch. Red’s been delayed.”
“I don’t mind.” Helena cursed herself after she said it. Or rather, at the way she said it, as if she were fifteen and he was her first crush. Were her eyes as big as Carina’s when she looked at him? She was pathetic, and even more so because she was disappointed that the moment had passed.
“Reds enjoy discord and fighting,” she pondered out loud. “I wonder what he will think about you entertaining a member of The Bane.”
“I suspect he won’t be happy, at first. But once you aim one of your smiles at him, he’ll be lost.”
Oh? Was he losing? If he were, what would it gain her? The Bane couldn’t touch him as long as he remained a man. If she could get the Elders to agree to terms with him and he kept his promise, a man he would remain. That meant he’d be living somewhere in the world with his secrets intact and, unless she was ready to betray her family, she’d never see or hear from him again.
If the Elders refused his proposal and he turned, The Bane would likely find and kill him, and they would expect her to help.
Looking at him slicing bread dulled the victory she’d awaited so long.
Being with him felt so normal, so natural. But it wasn’t. He’d been her enemy for the last fourteen years. She shouldn’t be sitting in his kitchen, flirting with him to gain information she wasn’t sure she wanted anymore. And that was the most alarming thing of all. Had she wasted all her years chasing every lead, only to let it all go because the Gold seemed to be a good man, or because maybe he wasn’t a monster after all? What about her father? Had he really used a Drakkon to kidnap a woman so he could kill a child for his own gain?
They talked over carved turkey sandwiches with cranberry dressing, cucumber and arugula, and beers delivered by Charles and ignored by Garion.
She told him about Emerson and shrugged when he called the cellist a complete fool. “Love is fickle.”
“No. No it’s not,” he argued softly and picked up his sandwich with both hands. “Not when it’s real.”
She looked up from her beer and smiled at him. “Not for anything, but how would you know? You don’t even date! And that reminds me, why don’t you?”
He took a bite of his sandwich and, for a moment, she thought he was going to try to evade her question again. Then, “I don’t know how long I’m going to live in this world. If it’s as long as Drakkons before me, I don’t want to watch the woman I love die.”
Helena would have smiled at such a tender sentiment but he licked the tip of his finger, dragging her attention to his mouth.
“Besides any who married their life mates,” he said, “do you know how many husbands and wives the Elders have had?
No, she didn’t. She’d never considered how many times they had loved and lost. She was glad she’d been born human. Immortality sucked.
“I want only one. My life mate, and I’ll never find her.”
Helena stopped chewing—she may have stopped breathing, as well—and blinked at him. But, wait. Why did she care that he practically looked her straight in the eye and told her she wasn’t the one for him? She didn’t want to be the one for him! Why did the thought of taking another bite of her delicious sandwich make her want to throw up? “What do you mean by life mate and how do you know you’ll never find her?”
“I mean a mate who will live out life with me, no matter if our lives last for years or for centuries.”
“A Drakkon,” she guessed out loud, trying not to sound as disappointed as she felt.
I need to call Dr. Curtis tomorrow and make an appointment to speak to a shrink.
“So,” she continued, “you’ve not only chosen never to fly again, you’re also prepared to live alone for who knows how long?” When he nodded, she shook her head. “You won’t last. You’re a romantic.”
He slanted his gaze and his smile at her. “Am I?”
“You are. You probably grew up on stories about chivalry and all that from your mother’s books. Yes, I know who your mother is. You already knew that,” she said, waving her hand to blow off his concern. “You’re very well-mannered and considerate, and just the fact that you can have endless women in however many nests you have scattered around the world, and you only want one, gives you away. You’ll give in, and then there will be two Drakkon.”
He got up from his chair and took his plate to the sink. “I won’t give in.”
She should be thrilled, hopeful, at least,
that he was so sure. But a part of her fought back regret. She knew the utter foolishness of getting involved with him. She hated herself for even thinking of it. But knowing she could never mean anything to him made her want to.
She left her chair and helped him clean up the kitchen. “Garion?” she asked wiping her hands. “Are you ever lonely?”
“Sure,” he said, turning to her. “Sometimes. But there’s no choice.”
“No,” she agreed quietly, feeling terribly sorry for him, “there isn’t.”
She followed him to the sitting room and watched him step into shafts of light spilling in from the skylight. A small sound escaped her at the sight of him. He was right about his hair she thought, staring at him instead of moving toward him. It made him even more radiant.
“I want to believe everything you’ve told me so far.”
His lips curved upward until his smile reached his warm gaze. “I want that, too.”
He invited her to join him on the sofa but she was afraid of what going to him meant. She was feeling things for him that she shouldn’t be feeling. She wanted the truth on some things. She needed it before she took another step in any direction.
“I think there’s a way for me to believe you, Garion. I’m going to tell you something I believe will be of great value to you. I’m telling you because I always considered what I’d lost, never what being Drakkon had cost you—and I’m telling you in exchange for the truth to the questions I put to you. You will have to weigh the value of what I tell you against what you give in return. Is that fair?”
“No.” He still hadn’t sat down. She wished he would. If he came toward her, she still didn’t know which way to go. “How can I prove the truth to you without evidence?”
“I’m not asking you to prove anything. This is going to be based on trust. Me trusting your sense of what is fair.”
“Helena,” He took a step forward but she held up her hand, horrified to see it trembling.
Get it together. Get it together.
“At the hospital, you said it would mean a lot to you if you knew you didn’t kill any children.” She looked into his tawny eyes and saw the emotion there. “You didn’t. There were children there that night. But you didn’t kill them.”
Chapter Eight
For a moment, Garion didn’t believe his ears. How had the children escaped? The relief she brought him nearly buckled his legs. He fell into the sofa and raked the fingers of both hands through his hair. For fourteen years he had believed he was the worst kind of monster. But this...this…He looked at her standing at the top of the stairs. “You’re certain of this, Helena?”
“Yes.”
“How? How do you know?”
“Because Jacob and I were the children.”
He sprang from his seat but stopped short of going to her. Instead, he took in what it meant and exhaled a low moan. She’d been there when he killed her family. She must have been terrified. She couldn’t have been more than nine or ten at the time. “Were you hiding?”
“We were in the woods.”
“Then—?” he asked, hesitant to continue. “—You saw me?”
“Yes, I did. We were the children. We escaped and lived.” She actually offered him a smile. “I can prove it was me because I saw you take Thomas’ body when it was over.”
She’d seen him. She’d seen him burn her family. She’d heard their screams—
His past had finally caught up with him right there in her eyes. Finally, he lowered his chin, severing their gaze.
“Garion.” She came to him, capturing his gaze and resting her hand on his arm. “My intention wasn’t to make you feel a certain way. It was to give you some relief from the weight you’ve endured because you believed you killed children.”
He wasn’t thinking. He was too consumed by the scent of her, the sound of her voice, her words, completely unselfish ringing in his ears. He took her face in his hands and closed the small gap between them. To his extreme delight, she didn’t resist but watched him with wide, inviting eyes. He hadn’t kissed a woman in so long he wondered if he’d forgotten how. He knew he shouldn’t, but he wanted to. He never wanted anything this bad. He bent to her and kissed the breath from her body. Her lips were soft and plump, molding to his, moving with his in the same passionate, needful dance.
He withdrew, giving her time to breathe, and tilted her head back to gaze on her beauty. He could feel himself falling, plummeting toward the earth and the only way to fly again was to take her in his arms.
Without further hesitation, he cupped her nape in his palm and slipped his other arm around her waist. He drew her in against him, tantalizingly aware of her pert breasts pressing against him, her heart pounding, and his, beating just as hard as she slipped her arms around his neck. He closed his eyes to kiss her again and thought he heard music somewhere off in the distance.
He didn’t think on it, or on anything else but the taste of her, the feel of her in his arms. Running his palm down her sweet, firm ass, he dragged her closer still, kissing her mouth, her chin, her throat. Still, he wanted more. He thought about carrying her to his bed, of peeling off her clothes to reveal the treasure beneath—and then claiming it as his own. But—an image of his scales, his spiked head, and long teeth invaded his thoughts.
Her phone rang at the same time so Garion wasn’t sure if she broke free of him to answer it, or if he’d passed the images in his head to hers. She did look rather terrified when she pulled her phone from her jeans and fell to the sofa.
“We need to talk,” she gasped out, looking up at him while her phone continued to ring.
What did they need to talk about? Did she want to warn him never to kiss her again? He wasn’t sure he could agree to it. Or had he just shown her the terrible beast from her nightmares?
“Hi, Jacob,” she finally said after accepting the call. Her voice still sounded shaky and her brother must have heard it. “No, I’m fine,” she assured, and then had to do it again three more times. “No, I’m not with—” She stopped and looked at Garion again. “All right, yes, I’m with him. Jacob, no—I’m perfectly fine. Don’t call Jarakan!”
No, don’t call Jarakan, Garion thought, moving toward her. The Bane would be all over him before he could return home. They’d likely bring him to the Elders, since they couldn’t kill him unless he turned. The Elders created The Bane. They didn’t follow the same rules.
When he reached Helena, he leaned down and plucked the phone from her fingers.
“Jacob, Garion Gold here.”
“Gold,” the voice on the other side was forceful but panic-stricken. “What are you doing with my sister?”
“We were having a late lunch. Nothing nefarious.”
“Lunch where? I’m coming to get her.”
Garion couldn’t blame him really. Hadn’t he done the same to Ellie? “If I tell you where we are, how do I know you won’t alert the Elders?”
“I don’t need to. They already know something’s up,” her brother told him. “Just before I called Helena I received a call from Aldric of the Thirteenth. Apparently the Elders have heard some kind of music that I’m told has something to do with you. They’re alerting everyone.” As he spoke her phone beeped. It was Aldric trying to reach her.
Music. Garion turned with the phone to his ear to look at Helena. Was she—? How could it be possible? She wasn’t Drakkon and he would never turn her. But he’d heard it, too, so faint that he’d paid no attention to it. But the Elders had heard it.
Helena.
She stood up, as if hearing him speak her name. The phone beeped in his ear again.
“Where’s my sister, Gold,” Jacob demanded. “That’s all I care about. I didn’t tell Aldric about you, but I will.”
Garion needed to warn Helena before she spoke to the Elder. He had to get off the phone before The Bane came looking for her.
“Jacob, I’m going to tell you but if you don’t come alone, chances are that we all die.”
&nb
sp; “I’ll come alone, just don’t hurt my sister.”
“I won’t.” Garion gave him his address with a silent curse to go with it. He was mad. Why was he inviting another White into his life? Had the music been for him? It was impossible. Helena was a Drakkon hunter. She’d never become Drakkon.
He hung up and handed her back her phone.
“What is it?” she asked. “What’s wrong? Why did you invite him here? And please tell me the truth—did I just hear your voice in my head?”
“Helena, Aldric of the Thirteenth is about to call you. The Elders are aware of my existence.”
Her eyes opened wide. “How? Jacob wouldn’t have told them!”
“He didn’t. They heard the music.”
“What music? My music?”
He shook his head. “Drakkon music.”
Her phone rang. She looked at it and then at him. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m—I’m not entirely sure. It’s said that when Drakkon find their life mate, music can be heard falling from the stars. They told Jacob they heard it and are alerting The Bane.”
She swallowed, going even paler. “I…I didn’t hear anything. Did you?”
“Answer your call,” he told her. “I’m going to listen in.”
She quirked her brow at him, looking confused, as she had every right to be.
“Hello?”
“Helena, this is Elder Aldric. Did I call at an inopportune time?”
“Yes, you did, in fact,” she cleverly responded after having let her phone ring dozens of times before she’d answered. “What can I do for you?”
“You can tell me where you are right now.”
Tell him you’re with a student.
Garion’s voice in her head startled her enough to make her fall back onto the sofa. She closed her eyes and shook her head, as if trying to break away from him.
He went to her and squatted at her feet. Tell him, Helena. I can read your thoughts if I choose to. So can he.
A crimson stain washed across her cheeks and she scowled at him. “I’m with a student, Aldric. Why?”
