by Tamsin Baker
She covered the distance back to the Dragon in two quick strides, almost as swift as the magic had carried them in the tunnels. His face had changed. She shook her head, trying to clear her vision. She hadn’t had any laced champagne today. And if Hana wielding Phoenix magics without combusting was possible, then maybe what she saw before her now was true.
What she’d seen that night at the New Moon party—perhaps that hadn’t been the effect of the champagne. Or her altered state of consciousness had allowed her to glimpse the preternatural power she’d sensed deep within her.
Logan Katana did not only possess the power of the Fae.
He was Fae.
Chapter 33
A Fae warrior lay stretched out across the day bed before Hana. Muscles rippled with preternatural strength. The aquiline planes of his face shimmered with skin like marble, unfathomably beautiful. Dark hair fell in luscious waves across his shoulders.
And his ears.
Hana leant over him, her fingers moving of their own accord, tracing the delicate, pointed arch, the shell of his ear. She held her breath, for what was air in the face of such otherworldly beauty? Eyes flickered open under thick, dark lashes and she froze solid, her finger mid-caress on his ear. Where there had been simmering silver before, now his eyes were the deep grey of a thunderstorm over a turquoise ocean. Glittering, glowing as if backlit by starlight.
“What are you?” she murmured.
Lazily, he blinked at her. He caught her hand and she had to stifle the gasp at the warm touch of his fingers grazing hers.
“Hana. Child of the Phoenix.”
Her face heated. He pushed himself up on the bed, so that he was kneeling on the edge, and she didn’t dare to step back, didn’t want to step out of his graceful, commanding presence. She tilted her head back to stay in his gaze and the glare he gave her was feral, proprietary. As if he lay claim to her.
“You know what I am, little Spitfire. What we both are.”
What they both…
“But the Fae…have you been glamouring yourself this whole time?”
“It seems my body needed all my resources to heal my injuries and so that is why you came upon me with my true face.”
His eyes narrowed.
“Or perhaps the Dragon thought it was time for us to reveal our true nature to each other.”
“I don’t know what…”
A hand snaked lazily down to the collar of her jacket. Something liquid and warm heated low in her belly. He twisted the collar aside, revealing scarlet and golden feathers glittering on the skin beneath.
“I’ve shown you my true nature, now the Dragon demands to see yours.”
“Your Dragon can kiss my—”
But the brand heated all over her body, little waves fluttering like a molten stream, begging to feel air brush against her and she remembered the gloriousness of almost flying down below the ground, swiftly through the tunnels.
The phoenix urged her above ground, to seek a rooftop, to try her wings again.
She shuttered her eyes against the intensity of his gaze, turning her back on him as the inferno embraced her. From the place where he’d lay his hand on her, the center of her chest, it expanded out like a raging firestorm, down her stomach, washing over arms and collarbones, shoulders and back, down legs encased in leather.
She scented ash and her eyes flew open, her mind taking long moments to catch up. In the mirror in front of her, she saw that the jacket and shirt beneath it—every scrap of fabric she’d worn on her body—had flown away in wisps of ash that floated down around them like gentle rain.
Had burned off her.
She watched her own mouth open, gaping at the wonder of the markings on her body.
The Phoenix’s face and body covered her chest and stomach. Within it, symbols and pictures of ancient kingdoms, rituals and powers. So detailed, it would have taken days, months to draw. Feathers, wings gilt in gold and scarlet curled down her arms, up her neck.
In the mirror, she met the Dragon’s gaze.
He was smiling.
The first real smile she’d seen on his lips.
“Beautiful,” he murmured.
Silver eyes dropped to her back and he whispered, “May I?”
Hana nodded shakily, transfixed by both the Dragon’s gaze and her own body. Reverent fingers traced the line of what she instinctively knew were intricately carved wings on her back.
“I’ve never seen…” he murmured, but Hana wasn’t listening, because the phoenix inside her was singing, achingly beautiful. It knew exactly what it wanted, and she tilted her head, baring her neck for him. Eyes snapped to hers in the mirror again and a deep growl rumbled up Logan’s lips.
She held his gaze, daring, inviting, craving his touch. His marking.
She watched in the mirror as a hand slid around her bare hip, caressing her stomach. His breath was ragged in her ear as those strong, eternal fingers grazed the underside of her breast with a light, teasing touch. A feral grin lit his face as he stroked lazy circles across her stomach. Hana’s breath started to come short and sharp and she bit her lip to stop from crying out as finally, he clasped her breast and pulled her back against the solid wall of his chest.
Fire and ice invaded her bloodstream, soothing and igniting.
Elongated canines glinted as he pressed his lips to the place where her shoulder met her neck. She felt the restrained power in his body, as if he gripped the edge of control desperately. The thought of her holding this power over him delighted her, and a little purr escaped her lips.
“Does this amuse you, Spitfire?”
She met his gaze squarely in the mirror. Then she turned her head up and back to him, needing to see the real thing.
Screw this.
Her phoenix sang in her blood, and so she turned in his grip, pushed him back onto the bed, ignoring his grunt of pain. Straddling him, she gave in to the roaring in her blood, the craving, and lowered her lips to his neck.
She felt his body still, the Fae warrior waiting, anticipating. She licked and sucked at the spot on his neck matching the one he’d lavished with attention on her body not moments before. She could feel the power of his magic returning, the pounding in his blood as her blood called to his.
Her heart raced, her whole body on fire, and she couldn’t hold out any longer.
Canines shot from her mouth, and she plunged them into him, marking, claiming, pleasuring him with her bite. She felt the fresh blood of her new canines mix with his and he cried out, hoarse.
He sounded…
Exalted.
Her teeth in his neck, the need to mix her soul, deep, with his, the craving, delight, satisfaction, was the last thing she remembered before sweet, intoxicating darkness took her under.
Chapter 34
When Hana woke, she was nestled against him, her back warm against his chest, his arms circling her, his stance protective, even in sleep. One of his hands still curved around her breast and a frisson of heat shimmered straight down to pool low in her belly at the sight of his strong, capable hand against the swirls of gold and scarlet that shimmered beneath his fingertips on the sensitive skin of her chest.
She inhaled sharply as that desire shot straight to her core, the apex between her thighs aching with want and need. Desire, craving, as strong as she’d ever felt it.
Oh, hell.
As if otherworldly magic, ancient darkness hunting her, Fae warriors revealing themselves, and her own phoenix bursting through her skin wasn’t enough to deal with.
No. The fact that Hana Poncoyo—Phoenix Clan rebel—had bitten Logan Katana, underworld Dragon prince, on top of all of that—just took the cake.
And she could feel it right down to her bones. Biting him was the least of what she desired.
A low growl vibrated against her neck and something else hardened against her backside.
Logan Katana shifted swiftly, head propped on his hand, gazing down at her with those exquisite eyes. The long, slow blinks of sleepy ey
es turned quickly to an intense gaze. Nostrils flared, and his eyes heated. She snarled at him, feral, while her heart started to race again. Damn him. Could he scent her arousal?
She was in so much trouble.
“Good morning, Detective.” He smiled lazily. “It seems one shot of me and you were out like a light. I have been told my blood was potent, but that was...quite a sight to see. Snoring and all.”
She snarled and rose up to force him back on the bed, throwing her leg over his hips to pin him there as she had in the night. Her hair flowed around their faces like an onyx curtain, the lantern light shining through it in amber streaks.
“I don’t see any evidence of your power now,” she murmured, gripping both of his hands above his head. “Did the baby Fae warrior use it all up?” she crooned.
A grin tugged at his lips, his eyes warming, then narrowing.
“And I don’t see your Phoenix warrior face. Why are you hiding, Hana?”
Hana didn’t loosen her grip on him, just slid her tongue across her gums to check for the elongated canines.
Gone. Not even a bump where they had been.
“I’m not hiding. I’m not…”
“A powerful Fae warrior? Perhaps a princess?”
She glared at him.
“How would you know?”
“All speculation at this point, Detective. And worthy of some investigation. But right now, other things demand our attention.” He pushed up into her, the thin material of his shorts the only barrier between their skin and she stifled a gasp and couldn’t help writhing her hips against his hardness.
“Perhaps…” A wicked glint lit his eyes. “Perhaps we can coax out the real Hana. I think I know how.”
If this was a game, she was going to beat him at it.
She leaned down, letting her hair spill over his shoulders, nipping at his aquiline jaw, where she’d left off last night. He groaned and ground himself against her as she licked and sucked at the shell of his ear, cried out as she traced the arch of his ear with her tongue.
“Later. Save that for later, Poncoyo,” he breathed.
So she took his lips and let hers open to him. The slow, sensuous strokes of his tongue nearly undid her. His hands roved over her body, her hips, her bare back, her breasts, never stilling, soothing and igniting and burning their way over her until she was lost in the sensations, as though he immersed her in an ocean cool and hot and bright and stirring to her soul. All that was left in the world.
Logan and Hana.
A Dragon and a Phoenix, the most intoxicating, tempting, dangerous pairing of all. Pairings empires had risen and fallen on. He stilled beneath her, pulled back to watch her face, his finger grazing her back in light circles as if asking a question. She reached a hand up to her face.
“Is my other face real?” she whispered.
Chapter 35
Logan’s gentle finger traced the line of Hana’s cheekbone in the wake of her whispered question, followed the curve of her ordinary, unremarkable ear. He rose up into a sitting position, keeping her astride his hips, and brushed back her ebony hair to land soft, gentle kisses to her neck. The same place where she had devoured—there was really no other word for it—feasted herself on him last night.
“You are Fae, Hana. There are few of us left now in the Tiger kingdom. And those of us who do possess the ancient power are under Tiger control. I use a glamour to hide the extent of my power. Yours—you truly do not use a glamour knowingly?”
“I…”
He smirked.
“I feel your power calling to mine, Hana. And it is strong. It’s no wonder that Stryker wants you. You’re just lucky he hasn’t gone tattling to the Tiger hierarchy yet, or we’d be in even bigger trouble.”
“Why hasn’t he?”
“My guess,” he said, shifting her to sit beside him on the edge of the bed, so that she had to stifle her moan of complaint. His eyes darkened with desire and promise.
Later, his eyes said. And…We’re just getting started.
A delicious shiver rode down her spine and the heat in his eyes gave way to an arrogant smirk as he rose from the bed, making his way to the jug of water placed on a side table. He wore nothing but his shorts, giving her a full and awesome view of the scales that glittered across the powerful muscles of his back.
He was beautiful.
He strode back to the bed, slowly, truly a dragon preening under her attention.
“My guess is that he’d like to harness your power for himself.”
She hissed out a breath, rising to inspect her face in the wall mirror.
“How can I have glamoured myself so well that I don’t even know what I am?”
He shrugged.
“Protective magics were strong with the Phoenix. As far as I’m aware, you’re the last of the Phoenix Clan Fae. One wielding such a title would be quickly extinguished by the Tigers, and perhaps your magic knows that. Perhaps, deep down, you know that too, Hana.”
He held her gaze, not shying from the devastating statement.
“I’m the last of the Phoenix?”
Her phoenix rattled the gilded cage inside her, singing a mournful song.
“I would think so.”
“But why are you marked by the Tigers also?” she asked.
His eyes glimmered.
“How did you…” He shot to his feet, scrubbing a hand over his whiskered jaw so that it crackled and crunched. “Alessio and Jyll—”
She lay a shaking hand on his arm, her body keeping pace with the night’s events, even if her mind whirled, trying to keep up. “Your boys? And the Tiger from that night? They are safe, and I got word to them that we had you safe, too.”
The door cracked open and Quan’s voice drifted in.
“The hotheaded woman snuck into your penthouse, Dragon, and delivered the message in person.”
Logan’s eyes heated again, this time with fury, as he gaped at her.
“Give us a minute, Quan,” she called, and could have sworn she heard the low sound of his chuckle as his feet retreated back up the stairs.
Was she surrounded by territorial bastards now?
The territorial Dragon bastard stood inches from her, dipped his head so that his breath brushed against the arch of her neck, his voice low and rough.
“Let me get this straight. You barely escaped an unknown Tiger force—several of them, if I’m not mistaken. You were marked by the Tiger hierarchy, a loose cannon like Stryker, and yet, you what—snuck back into my apartment to warn my men?”
She swallowed, her throat parched.
“They were worried. Out of their minds. And it was better than them leading the Tigers here.”
He pulled back to stare at her, a muscle feathering in his jaw, but alongside the fury, something else glimmered in his eyes.
Wonder. Awe. Gratitude.
He leaned down and nipped at her neck in rebuke.
“My Phoenix likes a walk on the dangerous side, is that it?”
She ignored the flame the words sent scorching along her skin, the song of the phoenix in response to his protective, boldly claiming statement.
“My gran brought me up to be a soldier, and soldiers make sacrifices,” she whispered.
His face softened infinitesimally. “You’ll have to tell me about your gran someday. She sounds like an interesting woman.” A hint of sheepishness snuck across his features.
“If you promise never to glamour me again,” she said.
“If you promise to take me wherever you’re going today.”
Chapter 36
Rex. Quan hadn’t seen or heard hide nor hair of the boy since he’d been taken by the mysterious Tiger force. The ones with that damned symbol on their uniform. When she hadn’t been watching the Dragon in his unconscious form, Hana had joined Quan to search high and low in all the usual spots a young man in trouble might find himself in this city. The fight clubs, gambling dens, under the bridges of the Indigo River.
They hadn�
�t said it, but they’d searched the river too, and the laneways where bodies frequently showed up.
The best chance of finding Rex, saving him, if he were still alive, was to find out what that damn symbol meant. Hana felt in her bones. It was at the heart of everything going wrong in this city. So, Hana had called Quan and the Dragon to the small table in what passed for a kitchen in the safe house.
Quan glanced suspiciously at the Dragon every now and then, still not trusting him, but he did trust Hana, and that had to be good enough for now. She laid it all out in the open. Her conversation with Silver, his hint about this being an ancient symbol rooted in the Clan histories. The fairy tales that were coming to life around them. Logan had glamoured himself again, and Hana didn’t mention that Quan was in the presence of a powerful Fae Dragon. Nor what she had not quite come to accept about herself, but the truth shimmered, waiting, in her bones.
Later. She would deal with that later.
“We will keep searching, but I think the answer to the kid’s disappearance, to all of this, lies in that symbol. I need to find out what it means. I need to get into my family mausoleum. See what Gran hid away down there.”
“It’s a big leap to make, Hana.” Quan said. “She seems to listen to you, Dragon. Why not find somewhere else to hide out until the heat has passed?”
The Dragon considered this. “I don’t think the Tigers will give up on this now. And Hana has,” Hana flashed a warning gaze at him, “she has a special intuition when it comes to this symbol. I think we have to trust her.”
Quan gaped, as if the Dragon were speaking ancient Fae. In a way, he was, she supposed.
“I don’t like it,” Quan grumbled.
“I’ll get my best men on it,” Logan said.
They spent the afternoon planning, Logan making several calls via his hand-held, with her sister’s plug-in assuring the messages to his crew were secure. After the long stretch below the surface, Hana was about to jump out of her skin. The Dragon watched her prowling about the safe house, bemused, before he grabbed his jacket, donned it, grabbed her arm and said, “Right.”
“Where are we going?”
