Games of Fate (Fate Fire Shifter Dragon Book 1)

by Kris Austen Radcliffe

  He’d give Rysa back her mother. Then Mira would help her daughter gain control over escalating abilities.

  When Marcus guided Dragon into her vision, the beast had heard the grinding, hellish fire that scorched her mind with every seer flare. He heard the noise, saw the overwhelming detail, felt her world spinning.

  Mira had not lied—Rysa’s pain worsened.

  Rysa crawled into the van and buckled her seatbelt. She stared out the window.

  “Rysa?” he asked.

  I have no idea what to do, he pushed to Dragon. No clue how to behave. Should he be a barbarian and rain a Roman retribution onto her cousins? Allow his and the beast’s vengeance to drip from Dragon’s talons like acid from a Burner’s finger?

  Should he stay back? Let her deal with this situation on her own? But she needed help. She wanted help. He sensed it.

  Or perhaps he was reading their connection incorrectly.

  Stop fretting, Dragon pushed. The beast snorted and dropped his head between the seats.

  “What?” Rysa muttered. She continued to stare out the window.

  I will not make this worse for Rysa, Ladon answered. He wouldn’t, even if he chose the wrong course and behaved in a way that pushed her away.

  Dragon snorted again. Perhaps you should trust her future-seer.

  If Ladon’s long life had taught him one thing, it was that inevitable sex did not mean inevitable connection. And he would not lay that at her feet. She was already in pain.

  “Are you ready to go?” he asked Rysa.

  She nodded and looked out the window again.

  The beast curled his neck around the seat and laid his head on her lap. Dragon offered the comfort Ladon could not.

  Instead, he drove.

  They stopped in Mankato. He parked the van and pointed at a big box store on the other side of the parking lot. Harold’s t-shirt and sweats twisted around her body and she looked uncomfortable. And Dragon wanted food.

  “Do you want to go in?” he asked. Shopping might cheer her up.

  Her new talisman bracelet clinked against the window when she stroked a finger across the glass. “All I see is fire.” Her forehead pressed against the window. The pressure made the skin around her eyes lighten. “My seers whip around and I don’t know what to do.”

  “We’re here,” Ladon said. “We’ll help for as long as you want to stay with us.” She needed to stay. She was too vulnerable otherwise.

  Would her back stiffen as it had when he’d touched her hair? Her reactions had yelled volumes even as her swaying hips whispered enticements. He still felt confused.

  If she batted away his words, the world would deflate again. He and Dragon would go back to Wyoming, sleep, and listen to the echoes inside their home.

  Her breath fogged the glass. “If the War Babies find my mom first, they’ll kill her. When the dust wears off and she’s visible again, you won’t know where to go without a Fate to help.”

  She didn’t say “go away” or “I’m done with you.”

  You are a Prime Fate, Dragon signed. We will listen to your instructions. Correct, Human?

  Ladon exhaled, thankful for Dragon’s quick answer. “Of course.”

  She sat up tall and a little bounce straightened her back. “Thank you.”

  Seeing her bounce was more of a reward than any thank-you. Every time her body moved in cheer or excitement, her eyes took on a glint of the openness he’d seen when she was in her visions. The hint made it real, and maybe, if he was lucky, obtainable.

  Ladon pulled the key from the ignition. “You’re smart and you have the best heart of any Fate we’ve ever met, better even than the Draki Prime.” More words toppled out.

  She blinked. His neck tightened and he looked away. When he glanced back, she greeted him with the most beautiful smile he’d ever seen.

  His world slammed tight around her. He saw only her face, heard only her voice.

  A shudder ran up her spine and she shivered. A small blush crept up her neck. “Oh,” she said, and looked away again. But a hint of her smile reflected off the glass next to her face.

  He’d made her feel good. Or their connection did.

  Maybe he could do it again.

  Dragon pulled forward and blocked Ladon from Rysa. Do not think about sex, he pushed. Then he backed up and curled a warning flame at Ladon.

  I wasn’t thinking about sex, Ladon pushed. He wasn’t. Not really.

  Dragon huffed. I must vent before entering the building, the beast signed, so Rysa understood. I do not want to overheat. More flames curled as he cooled himself.

  Rysa tapped the dashboard, obviously grateful for the distraction. “So that’s why he breathes fire.”

  “One of the reasons, yes,” Ladon said. He watched Rysa carefully. Did he dare try to use their connection again?

  She watched him just as carefully as he watched her. But then she smiled again and pointed at the store.

  “Let’s get him some food.” She popped open her door and stretched her legs.

  Ladon walked around the front of the van. She’d rolled the waist of Harold’s ridiculous sweats over and they sat like a thick belt around her hips. It took considerable effort not to allow his gaze to settle onto her waist.

  “Dragon’s right…” Rysa’s eyes closed and she pointed off to the side. “There!”

  Ladon chuckled. Burner chaos might cloud her abilities, but she was still Prime. “When you’re confident about him, you can practice on me.”

  She poked his arm. A delectable pout pushed out her lower lip. “Like I could miss you.” Then she bounced away, following the beast.

  If she had stayed next to him, he would have pulled her close, distance be damned.

  She hitched up Harold’s too-long sweats and sashayed as she passed through the sliding doors. Dragon scaled the wall and scrambled along the girders overhead, and through the giant cutout bumblebees and sunglasses and picnic tables hanging from the ceiling swayed.

  “How long can he stay up there?”

  Her jaw’s perfect line invited a kiss to the delicate spot under her earlobe. “Thirty-two minutes.” But Ladon stayed back, careful not to damage the new trust they were building.

  “That’s not very long,” she said.

  The incessant whine of the cell phones in the store would drive him out before then, anyway. He pulled a cart and twirled it with a dash of grandeur, to entertain Rysa. An older woman with a big bosom watched from the produce section, an apple in her hand and a scowl on her face. Ladon grinned.

  “Food first?” Rysa asked. A new smile appeared as she watched Ladon maneuver the cart.

  I want oranges.

  She glanced up at the ceiling. Her brow furrowed. “Dragon likes oranges?” She set two big sacks of the fruit in the cart. “Oh! Cara Caras.” She snapped open a thin film bag. “They’re at the end of the season, but they still look good.”

  Did she hear me?

  Ask her. Ladon watched her lovely fingers pick up another Cara Cara fruit. She looked at it, then set it down.

  I do not think so.

  Besides Ladon and Sister, no one heard either of the dragons, except for one Shifter, centuries ago. Rysa didn’t respond. Maybe it was her seers.

  I will continue trying.

  She waved a Cara Cara under Ladon’s nose. “These are the best oranges. He’ll like them.”

  “Anything you pick out, he will like.” Dragon would eat kumquats if Rysa asked him to.

  I dislike kumquats and kiwis. If Rysa asked, I would not eat them.

  Yes, you would.

  “You need to eat, too.” Her shoulders squared as she set the fruit in the cart. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed.” She waved a finger under his nose.

  He jammed his hands into his pockets to keep from stroking her arm. “I don’t get hungry when I’m fighting.”

  “Well, you’re not fighting right now, are you? And vodka and moldy pizza don’t count.” She pointed at the leafy vegetab
les. “Spinach? Kale for Dragon? Maybe some salads. Do you good.”

  I told you the drinking upset her.

  Ladon frowned at the ceiling.

  “He’s chastising you, isn’t he?” Rysa dropped all manner of salad into the cart, along with a loaf of bread. “Come on. I need clothes.”

  In Women’s Apparel, she yanked a pair of jeans off a rack.

  “Won’t fit.” He pointed at a different display. “Those.” He’d run his hands over her hips enough to have a good sense of her proportions.

  Her eyebrow rose. “Is that so?” The wrong jeans went back onto the rack as she asked.

  “Yes.” It took considerable effort to keep his gaze from dropping to her belly. He tossed a couple of t-shirts into the cart instead.

  Color touched her cheeks as she looked away. She’d been blushing a lot since they stopped.

  The jeans he’d pointed out landed on top of the shirts. “Not just black stuff, Mr. Monochrome.” A couple more colorful items fell into the basket. “I need underwear.”

  An image of her in thin underthings jumped into his mind.

  “Intimate Apparel is over there. So is Footwear.” She pointed. “Could you get me some shoes? Size 8. And socks. But not all black ones.” She gave him a little shove.

  He turned away. The blushing, the thoughts, all the semi-flirting—he had no idea how to respond. He’d known unsure women before, but none of them had been unsure future-seeing Fates who bled their own confusion into his already confused life.

  He walked into Footwear. She couldn’t stomp a Burner with anything they had here, so he chose garish athletic shoes. At least they would both be sure she had comfortable feet.

  Perhaps the new clothes would make her feel better. Her fingers gliding over his skin would make him feel better. Her kisses would calm his raging mind. He’d do the same for her. Take his time. Find all the spots on her neck and along her rib cage and evaporate her anxiety like dew from her skin.

  You are thinking too much about sex.

  Ladon glanced at the ceiling. Dragon refracted and his tail swished when he moved across the girders.

  We’re both tired, Ladon pushed. Shoes? Rysa? Citrus fruit? His fatigue had to have something to do with his inability to focus.

  Dragon pushed out his agreement. Rysa’s mind feels as unfocused.

  Across the aisle, Rysa tossed several bra and panty sets in a variety of styles into the basket. The lace shimmered through a rainbow of hues as if she’d decided to wear Dragon against her skin.

  Stunning Rysa, the Fate with a heart as beautiful as her body. She deserved all the respect he and the beast could provide. And the understanding.

  At the registers, Ladon packed the food into two bags as Rysa put her clothes into two others. In the lot, Dragon crawled into the back of the van and she handed over their purchases. Ladon leaned against the door, and watched her stretch and twist to transfer the bags.

  “Aren’t you going to help?”

  “You’re done.” He twirled the cart and gave it a shove toward a corral. It hit true and straight, and nested into another.

  “Show-off.” Her lovely lips pinched together, and a tad bit of mischievousness twisted them ever so slightly.

  Dragon snorted.

  Rysa reached for the beast. Her fingers spread as they moved across the van’s threshold toward Dragon’s head. “You’re a show-off too, you big, wonderful lug.”

  Ladon reached for her. He reached to lift her up, and to hold her close. “Rysa,” he whispered as his fingers glided past her talisman, up her forearm, and to her elbow.

  Her gaze dropped to his fingers. Her face slacked. Shock from her seers hit him hard—he shouldn’t have touched her. She must be seeing him as forward again.

  He let go. “I’m sorry. I—”

  Her abilities flared across the parking lot as a combined music so breathtaking it broke into Ladon’s vision. Colors danced in the air. In the van, Dragon rolled over. His hide sparked.

  “Oh….” Rysa tripped. Her hand grabbed for Ladon’s shirt. “What’s happening…?”

  The siphoning locked on. It grabbed Ladon’s connection to Dragon and it coiled itself into the flow as if it were an octopus inside a tube. Ladon’s perception of the edges of the world fuzzed.

  Ladon and Rysa both staggered against the bumper.

  Control it, Dragon pushed.

  Their flow sputtered. Ladon steadied his mind so Dragon’s attempt to moderate her vision didn’t unravel.

  “Rysa?” He pulled her into the back of the van and laid her down, then slammed the door. He touched her arms and her hands. She felt cold again, like she had at her house. He picked her up and cradled her against his chest.

  Dragon’s hide barely moved. He concentrated on Rysa.

  Another wave blasted from her seers and her nails dug into Ladon’s arm.

  “Rysa?”

  A vision has her.

  Pain echoed from her body to his. A new twitch arced across her fingers.

  If she had another uncontrolled vision, she might not wake up—and the only help Ladon had access to now traveled south to Branson.

  To the Shifters.

  Ladon laid his palm on Dragon’s neck. Could one help?

  The beast wagged his head. I do not know. How?

  He didn’t know, either. But something said Shifter and in particular, enthraller. Ladon could almost see—

  Do you feel that? Ladon pushed. It’s coming from her seers, the same as at her house in Minneapolis. He couldn’t quite see, as if he had to squint because the images were too bright. And too loud.

  She twitched again.

  “Phone!” Ladon waved at the front of the van. Dmitri’s bar teemed with enthrallers. One could come north. Meet them half way.

  Dragon held out the phone. I will take her. The beast extended his hand to cradle her head.

  No. Ladon dialed with one hand. She stayed where she was.

  The Russian answered.

  “I need an enthraller,” Ladon said.

  Dmitri paused.

  Rysa coughed.

  “Now.” The bar was too far away. “Who’s nearby?” But Ladon knew. A brief memory flickered in his mind’s eye—a woman dropping a necklace onto his palm. A very particular, very unfriendly woman. Dragon blew out little rings of flame.

  Dmitri said her name.

  Ladon swore. “You call her. Then call me back with a location.” He disconnected the call.

  Penny. Another one of Ladon’s many mistakes. But if Penny was their only option, so be it. He’d stomach that hell for Rysa.

  I will take her.

  No. Ladon’s arms wouldn’t release. What if she didn’t wake up?

  You must drive. Dragon gently, carefully lifted Rysa. He lay her down.

  Ladon covered her with a blanket, tucking along the side, and touched her forehead. No fever. But he still felt her seer’s fingers.

  He needed to drive. He’d have to go up front and leave her in the back where he couldn’t feel her skin for a fever.

  He exhaled. Dragon had her. Ladon fumbled for his keys as he dropped into the driver’s seat. They’d go south, toward where Penny operated. If—

  Human.

  He looked up. Rysa caressed his shoulder and wiggled onto his legs. She wedged herself between his abdomen and the steering wheel.

  She is still in a vision, Dragon pushed.

  The chill of her skin bit into Ladon’s. “Beautiful.” Why had he put her down? He wrapped his arms around her to give her all his warmth. “You need to rest. I found someone who will help—”

  Her lips glided over his. Her arms tightened around his neck. A kiss—a real kiss, one full of purpose and intensity—touched his chin. The tenderness of the next kiss held all the trust and intimacy he’d seen in her eyes. Her mouth caressed his, wanted his, and her body pressed tight against him.

  “Rysa.” Her name expanded from his throat and out to his chest and limbs. It moved into the quiet momen
ts of his life and into his deepest worries. She melted all the what-ifs and brightened all the dark corners. Her touch calmed his world.

  Somehow, even in this vision, even with her demands of distance, she wanted him, his touch, his attention.

  Or she would. The sweet, lovely touch of her seers meant only one thing—this moment, this understanding between them that could not possibly be happening, was one hundred percent the future jutting into the present.

  He had not earned her kisses. Not yet. He might never. But he couldn’t lift her off his lap or turn her away. Be strong like he should. She tasted perfect, felt perfect. Rysa, a woman who somewhere inside herself accepted him, even though she was a Fate.

  Ladon accepted this gift he did not deserve. He kissed her with the same passion she kissed him.

  Her fingers wove into his hair and traced the slope of his ears. Her hips swayed with her kisses. He could lay her on the blankets and express everything inside him. Stroke her hips and breasts and kiss every inch of her skin. Let the inevitable bind them with a physical need so strong that when her world righted, she’d understand why he wanted her to stay.

  He pushed aside the thought. He couldn’t ask for a future she might never want, inevitable or not.

  She kissed his cheek and held tight to his chest. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  His head filled with an overlay of caresses, of kisses, beyond what he felt now. The future wrapped around his mind the same way her arms wrapped around his neck.

  A wave of color and texture pushed from Dragon. The beast nuzzled her cheek. The future touched the beast, as well. Her laugh would fill the silence of their van and give Dragon a new, strong, and beautiful voice for his words.

  She moved like she was awake, kissed like she was awake, but the vision had her.

  “Rysa, can you hear me?” Ladon asked.

  “You are right.” She whispered the words into his ear, barely a breath.

  “What? Rysa, I don’t underst—”

  “When I hurt you, please come for me.”

  She had said the same words after the fight at her house. He cupped her cheeks, kissing her again with every ounce of his resolve. “We will.” Even if she walked away, they’d come for her. Now, tomorrow, centuries into the future, it didn’t matter. They’d be there for her. Always.