by Jory Strong
The mirror appeared delicate and antique, but also ordinary. Except…
This was Inner Magick, and though she didn’t personally have an interest in runes or crystals or some of the other things sold in the shop, she didn’t discount them either. Doing so would make her a total hypocrite, considering how many tarot decks she owned.
“This is new,” she said as Aislinn joined her.
Lyra touched the frame again, though nothing happened. She laughed a little self-consciously but joked anyway. “What does it do, catch a glimpse of what people were thinking about right before they came in?”
“You saw something?”
“A dragon, of all things.”
“Really? And you were thinking about dragons?”
“Indirectly. I was thinking about the rumors that Severn Damek owns a lot of the real estate around here. I drove past his estate once and saw the dragons on either side of the gates. I guess my subconscious must have projected them?” Call her crazy for implying she might actually believe in magical mirrors, but…
“Was the dragon in the mirror blue with some red?”
“No. It was silver and gold.”
Aislinn smiled. “The tarot decks aren’t the only new cards I’ve recently acquired. Are you game for playing with a matchmaking deck?”
Lyra laughed. “Have you had contact with my mother?”
Aislinn snickered. “No. Come into the back room.”
Lyra followed her through strung beads that formed a curtain separating the showroom from Aislinn’s work and storage area.
The tarot decks were laid out on a table, spread to reveal some of the cards. Choosing would be torture, given how exquisite they were. Lyra itched to hold them, at the same time admitting to herself she was more than just a little curious about the matchmaking cards.
Aislinn reached for a beautiful wooden box. It was decorated with a mural of mystical creatures that made Lyra think immediately of the silver-and-gold dragon in the mirror.
Funny she’d given it those colors. Even before Aislinn had asked, she’d remembered the ones at Severn Damek’s estate were blue with hints of red.
The hair rose on Lyra’s arms and along the back of her neck as Aislinn opened the box and lifted out a deck of cards with an androgynous couple walking through a forest. Her heart raced for no reason at all that she could think of—even hope. She had too much going on right now to start a relationship.
Aislinn passed her the deck. “This isn’t much different from a tarot reading, except you don’t have to concentrate on a question, just stop when it feels right and turn your card choice over.”
“You’re limiting me to only one card?” Lyra joked.
Aislinn snickered. “Take more than one if you feel the heat.”
Lyra thought about it—for less than a second—then shook her head ruefully. She could definitely see the appeal of a ménage, and would say, you go, girl, to anyone who wanted to try it, but it wasn’t her fantasy. No, her fantasy was pretty tame, more along the lines of what her mother had.
Lie. Well, part lie.
Her stepfather was totally devoted, totally committed, but he wasn’t totally alpha. As far as I know. And she did not want to know what went on behind her parents’ closed bedroom door. Ick.
A card seemed to stick to her fingers. Doubt assailed her. Was she really feeling it? Was this the right card? A hint of trepidation followed, arriving with a phantom, tingling stroke along her spine.
Chill, she told herself, half expecting to start hearing the theme song from The Twilight Zone.
She kept cutting the deck. A second later a card squirted out.
Okay. Hard to argue with that result. She couldn’t prove it was the same card. But she’d bet money it was.
She handed the deck to Aislinn. “Turn it over?”
Why was her mouth suddenly dry?
“Whenever you’re ready.”
Aislinn placed the other cards in the box and closed it, as if the one now facedown on the table was out of play. Permanently.
Lyra reached out. She flipped the card over and was instantly flooded by heat. It rolled into her, settling in her breasts and cunt with the same scorching intensity contained in the man’s eyes.
Damn he was hot, and she only had his face to go by. Brown-haired. Dark-eyed. Golden-skinned. Alpha, pure and simple. He was a man who’d possess his woman and make sure she knew who she belonged to.
Lyra licked her lips, because turnabout was fair play. He was a man a woman would make sure she’d pleasured so well he’d come back for more, ignoring all the other offers.
It took her several seconds to notice the card’s border. The sight of the silver-and-gold dragon sent a jolt through her, the déjà vu pricking of premonition combined with the thrill of anticipation.
“Do you know who he is?”
“Tielo.” Aislinn stood. “Be right back.”
“Take your time.” There was no resisting the urge to pick the card up and get a better look.
Tielo. It was an erotic whisper through her mind.
Her nipples hardened and her slit wept arousal as the heat in her belly coiled and tightened. If she had this reaction just looking at a picture of him, what would it be like to encounter the real thing?
They’d probably disappear into a bedroom and not emerge for days.
The thought brought her up short. I don’t have time for this right now, not until I do what I can to help the Ochoas.
Lyra shook her head as if she could clear it of the tendency to believe in such a thing as matchmaking cards. She probably wouldn’t if she was somewhere other than Inner Magick, but there was something about this shop, something about Aislinn herself that seemed otherworldly.
Aislinn returned. Lyra set the card with Tielo’s image on the table though she couldn’t quite bring herself to put it facedown. “I should take a look at the tarot decks and get back home.”
She’d practice poker online until bedtime. Maybe tomorrow would be the day she made the couple-hour drive to the closest casino.
“Before you do,” Aislinn said, offering her an envelope. “This is for you.”
Lyra took it, the texture and gold embossing on the flap practically screaming money. “What’s this?”
Aislinn’s eyes held warmth that reached out and enfolded Lyra, making her feel a closeness resembling what she felt when she was with her family. “Open it and see for yourself.”
She did, pulling out an invitation and again experiencing a jolt.
Join privileged members for a game of cards.
$100,000 in chips provided by Drake’s Lair.
Guest keeps all winnings above the staked amount.
She’d been looking for a sign…
Did it get any clearer than this?
She’d heard of Drake’s Lair. It was a private, exclusive club, one that seemed to get raided with some frequency.
A nervous laugh escaped as she imagined a headline. Elementary School Teacher Caught Wagering in Notorious Gaming Den.
Hah, next to the politicians and rich businessmen who were often seen entering the club, they could haul her out naked and it probably wouldn’t make the news.
Her eyes were drawn to the dragons painted along the border of the invitation. Drake’s Lair. Come to think of it, wasn’t drake another name for a male dragon? Hadn’t she seen that in one of the fairytales she’d read to her class?
Of course, it was also the word for a male duck. She glanced at Tielo’s face. Nope, not a duck.
“Why are they doing this?”
“They want to meet women.” There was the slightest hesitation before Aislinn added, “Marriageable women.”
Lyra’s jaw dropped. Literally. “No way. Based on what little I know about the men allowed into Drake’s Lair, they’re loaded, as in, they could have their pick of women.”
“True, and not true.”
Aislinn nibbled on her bottom lip. Now they were getting into the tricky part. Somehow she had to impa
rt enough information so Lyra’s shock at learning dragons existed would be manageable, while at the same time, not revealing too much, though so far it had gone much, much better than expected.
She hadn’t anticipated Lyra would readily admit to having seen a dragon in the mirror. Finding out just which dragon…
Aislinn managed to suppress a smile. She’d pay money to be at Drake’s Lair when Lyra arrived and first encountered Tielo. Luckily she could count on Pierce to give her a replay afterward.
“What most people don’t know is that the majority of the rich and famous men photographed coming and going from the club aren’t actual members.” In fact, almost none of them were, since membership was limited to dragons, with few exceptions, and those were all supernaturals too.
“Reclusive,” Lyra guessed, “like Severn Damek. Why am I sensing a theme here?”
“They call themselves dragons.” Aislinn touched the edge of Tielo’s card. “He’ll have one on his skin that’s silver and gold.”
A little erotic shiver went through Lyra at imagining looking for the tattoo on Tielo’s body and pressing her lips to it. “Do you know him?”
“By sight only.”
“I’m still not getting why these men can’t find women on their own.”
“It’s not that they couldn’t, it’s just that they’ve asked me to introduce them to the type of women who come to the shop.”
“Why?”
“Because most of the women are like you, interesting to talk to, open, honest and also curious about things beyond the everyday normal.”
“Like the tarot cards?”
“Yes.”
“Meaning the,” she gestured quote marks to denote, “dragons are interested in things supernatural.”
“Definitely.”
She grinned. “Okay. I can go with that.”
“So you’ll go to Drake’s Lair?”
She glanced down at the invitation. Even if she weren’t curious, there was no way she could say no, not when there was a chance, probably slim, that she could parlay the hundred thousand in chips into enough money to do some serious good.
“Sure, there’s no risk, right?”
Aislinn reached out, her hand covering Lyra’s. “There’s definitely risk. To your heart. To your freedom. The dragons play for keeps.”
“Like their namesakes,” Lyra murmured.
“Just like. They’re competitive, possessive and very often uber-dominant.”
The heat in Lyra’s belly slid downward, making her clit throb and her pussy burn. Her attention shifted to Tielo’s image. “So what’s the deal with the cards?” And remembering the dragon she’d seen when she entered Inner Magick, she added, “And the mirror?”
Aislinn wished she could provide heartstones for every woman she sent into a lair full of dragons, but she couldn’t. The mirror wasn’t Elven, though she’d added the stones to it. It was still part mystery to her, made more so by doing as Tristan suggested and laying the fey cards on its surface.
Maybe if Lyra had actually seen Tielo’s face in the mirror, then Aislinn would be positive in saying he was absolutely her perfect mate. But there were other dragons in the deck with scales of gold and silver. No two of them looked alike yet Lyra’s mind had been set on drawing only one card.
“Tielo is the match the cards favor,” Aislinn hedged, knowing other males would be drawn to Lyra at Drake’s Lair. Given their competitive natures, they’d battle for her, though hopefully Tielo would win, and ultimately, the choice would be hers.
Pierce had promised to keep the women safe. She’d insisted on it before agreeing to be a part of this. “Will you go tonight?”
Lyra took a deep breath. “Yes.”
Aislinn gave a gentle squeeze to the hand beneath hers. “I don’t think you’ll be sorry you did. Ready to look at the tarot decks now?”
“Definitely.”
Chapter Three
Lyra cruised through the Drake’s Lair parking lot, her stomach knotting more tightly with each expensive car she passed. She’d known what to expect, but knowing it intellectually and seeing it with her own eyes were two different things. If there was so much wealth on casual display outside, how much worse was it going to be inside?
Her mouth went dry. She was a teacher from a middle-class background and this world was so far removed from hers that for an instant she seriously considered heading for the exit.
Thoughts of Sebastian and Nicolas stopped her. What did she have to lose?
Sweat trickled between her breasts as she imagined emptying her bank account then maxing out the one credit card she allowed herself, all in the feverish pursuit of winning big at the poker table.
“Trust yourself,” she said out loud in an effort to shore up her confidence. Despite what Aislinn had said about the men here, and her own reaction to the matchmaking card, she hadn’t come looking for either a lover or a prospective husband. She’d come to play poker, and she believed she could hold her own at cards and conversation for an evening, regardless of differences in lifestyle and wealth.
She licked dry lips, parking between a Tesla and a Bentley, the least expensive cars in the lot. She got out, invitation clamped tightly in damp hands.
The steps to the club’s front door felt like walking down a long tunnel. With each one, it seemed like the roar of the ocean behind her got louder.
A blond stepped out just as she arrived, his long hair unbound, his eyes a stunning green. Yesterday she would have felt a flash of sexual interest. Today she found herself comparing him to the card with Tielo’s face, and it was the picture that had tendrils of dark heat curling through her like sinuous smoke escaping a dragon.
Her breasts swelled in anticipation, heightened by carnal fantasies of Tielo examining, suckling, liking what he found beneath her clothes. She only barely managed to keep from fanning herself with the invitation. Who would have guessed a picture would turn her on more than the flesh-and-blood man actually smiling in welcome?
“Lyra?” he asked, his voice as luscious as he was.
“Yes.”
“I’m Pierce, your official escort.”
He held the door open for her, offering an arm once they were inside. She needed it, given the club’s opulence and the men milling around, or more accurately, prowling Drake’s Lair.
They came in all shades of color. Black, brown, olive, white, though they might well have been cut from the same cloth because they seemed more alike than different. It was impossible to miss the dragon imagery, either on skin, jewelry or clothing.
A laugh escaped. Next to her, Pierce chuckled. “They are a sight, aren’t they?”
She met eyes that made her think of sunlight shimmering off a green ocean. “Where’s your dragon?”
He took a laughing, dramatic step backward, hand going to his chest. “Gods forbid I be so cursed by the Fates. I share a fascination with fire, but I’m no dragon.”
She shook her head, enjoying the role-playing. Apparently everyone here got into it.
A flutter went through her chest as it occurred to her this might not be the only role-playing done at Drake’s Lair. For all she knew, the back rooms held dungeons and toys and the equipment used by BDSM participants.
As if sensing her flash of uneasiness, Pierce grew serious. He slid his arm through hers. “Rest assured, you are safe here. There are rules in place.”
The maître d’ stepped out from behind an elegant wooden podium. His dragon symbol was embroidered on his tie, a gold and red beast with a hint of green.
“It’s a pleasure to welcome you to Drake’s Lair. Your invitation, please.”
She offered it, feeling a twinge of disappointment. She’d imagined framing and putting it on the wall as a reminder of this night.
A glance around and she laughed at herself. Gorgeous men, the smell of wealth, the sound of a roulette wheel spinning in the background and the clink of chips—win, lose or draw, she wouldn’t forget tonight.
“Ho
w about dinner and easy companionship?” Pierce asked. “And by the latter, I mean me. I’ll even share what tales I know about any of the men who catch your interest. And if they bore you, a possibility with dragons, given their obsession with treasure, we’ll no doubt find something of interest to talk about.”
“Are you the designated greeter for the women Aislinn sends here?”
“For this evening, yes.” Pierce couldn’t suppress a laugh. He wouldn’t miss this for the world. In fact, in mere seconds he felt certain he would win the bet he’d made with Henri, the club’s maître d’, as to how long Tielo would be able to resist temptation after being told of Lyra’s arrival.
In order for Tielo to see the woman his grand scheme had brought here tonight, he would have to leave his office. And when he did…
Pierce’s amusement deepened. “I’m a mated man.” And soon his partner would be one as well. “I’m also part owner of Drake’s Lair. Would you care for a meal?”
“To tell you the truth, I think I’m too nervous to eat.”
“Understandable. There are men who desire to meet you. Would you like to move forward with the introductions?”
Her eyes flashed a hint of panic. She blurted, “I just came here to play poker.”
It tempered some of Pierce’s amusement. He covered her hand with his and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Poker it is then. Any particular game?”
“Texas Hold’em.”
“Excellent.”
He’d drop all reference to suitors, though the men she’d next meet were one and the same. She wouldn’t leave unclaimed, if not by act, then by intention. Once outside the club, she was fair game after a twenty-four-hour wait enforced by guards Severn had assigned the task. He only hoped Tielo was not so foolish as to let another have her.
“The choice of who joins you at the gaming table is completely yours. Shall I present you with some possible opponents? Or would you prefer a detour to the bar to fortify yourself against the upcoming battle with dragons?”
The arm hooked through his relaxed. “How about introducing me to the worst of the poker players?”
“I’ll introduce you to the most likely candidates.” He leaned closer, lowering his voice in the mock sharing of secrets. “Dragons never believe they’re going to lose. That hubris, combined with the prospect of gaining more and better, makes them blind to the emptying of their coffers. It’s very much like plucking pigeons.”
