He led her into the house and into the study where he closed the door. Leaning against it, he assessed her. “Are you alright?”
She gripped her cane as if it were her only lifeline. “I—I’m fine.” Taking a few steady steps toward the fireplace, she stared at the broadsword over the mantle and took a deep breath. “I’m fine.”
“You sure?” He strode around her, his fingertips brushing her arm and setting her skin ablaze. “Because I’m not setting you free now that you’ve agreed to stay with me.”
She gave a small laugh. “I wouldn’t ask for that. When will you figure out I couldn’t be chased away if you tried?
A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. Pallas entered the room. “Is this all you have for a nest?”
“No. The others should be on their way.” Daedalus scowled. “Is there an emergency? We were having a private conversation.”
“I came to say my farewells.”
Daedalus crossed his arms over his chest. “What will you do now?”
“Report to the council that you’re back in control of the Prime seat in this region.” He turned to Sugar and bowed. “And that you’ve obtained a worthy Prima, though I don’t think you deserve her.”
A heaviness settled in her chest. Pallas was rough around the edges, but he came from a different time. Would he survive on his own in the modern world? Daedalus wouldn’t admit it, but she knew he’d mourn the loss of his clan brother.
“What about after that?” She glanced at Daedalus and recognized his calculating expression.
“Pallas will return to us.”
“I will?” Pallas’s eyebrows rose.
“Yes, I have a pet project I can't run now that I’m back in control of Pal Robi Inc. I need a warrior equal to my skill. Think you can handle being in charge of something without bringing the Federal Government down on our asses?”
“Depends on what it is.”
“I need an elite guard.” He nodded toward her. “To protect my Prima and other covert operations. I want you to train the warriors I’ve chosen.”
“Here?” Pallas made a face at the surroundings walls. “You’re not equipped.”
“Not here. Once you’re done making your report, we'll sit down and discuss the details. I think a separate installation would be best.”
The other Nosferatu stood silent as his gaze traveled between them. “You’ll take me into your nest?” For a split second, she glimpsed the young man that Pallas had once been. Had he been abandoned?
She crossed the distance between them and grasped his hand. “Yes, you have a home with us always.” Her pledge came out without thought, but it seemed the right thing to do. She remembered what it was like to be alone before she’d met a pack of misfit shifters.
He kissed the back of her hand. “Then you have my allegiance.”
“Good.” Daedalus clapped his hands. “I’ll contact Robert to gather the shifters he’s been working with and prepare them to move here when you return.”
Pallas’s eyes widened. “You never said shifters.”
“Does it matter? You’ll hate anyone I give you.”
He grinned and slapped Daedalus on the arm. “I have to make arrangements to travel.” As he left the room, he stopped at the door and tossed Sugar a wink.
She turned her attention to Daedalus. “Shifters guarding me?”
“Robert’s been asking for more training for the Vasi omegas. I can’t think of a better teacher.”
“Pallas will eat them alive.” She returned to her place in front of the mantel.
“They’ll be better warriors for it.”
Lifting her cane, she set it over the fireplace with his sword. “I think it’s time we both lay our pasts behind us and look forward to a long, happy future together.” It felt right to set her cane there. Not a traditional weapon, but it had helped her in her time of need.
Scooping her into his arms, Daedalus swung her around. “I’ve dreamed of this day. Never thought it would come true.”
For a time she hadn’t believed it either. Looking back, she could see that all her paths led to this moment, but her fear had kept her away. From now on, she’d keep that in mind when faced with terrifying things in her new life. She would collect her courage and tackle all her problems instead of turning her back.
She pressed a kiss to his lips, chaste and tender, savoring him. “I love you.”
His grin melted away all her doubts. “Babe, I love you right back.” The future lay bright before them, and together they’d bring prosperity back to his nest. Linked with a wolf shifter pack, they would flourish.
Koishi
Never make a deal with a dragon.
Sandra’s sister is dying. All the doctors agree that nothing more can be done, but she can’t give up hope. After using all her resources searching for a cure, a little bird whispers in Sandra’s ear about secret worlds, Gates, and the Keepers who protect them. A dragon Gatekeeper, who hoards magical treasure within his volcano home in Japan, can possibly hold an item to cure her sister.
Gates choose their Keepers and Koishi thinks his did an excellent job in picking him. Not many dare to cross and none who try survive. However, one tiny human female with either the courage of an army or the intelligence of a gnat has arrived on the island asking for him. Curious and not wanting to disappoint, he waits for the locals to steer her to his human ‘servant’, which is him in his man form.
Let the games begin…
CONTENT WARNING: Goblins, mayhem, and sushi await you with hot dragon sex and Koishi’s odd sense of humor.
Chapter 1
Never make a deal with a dragon.
Koishi yawned so wide his jaw cracked. If he didn’t kill something soon, he’d--he’d have to find a hobby. A shudder ran down his human form’s spine. At least the winds were growing stronger so there would be good flying tonight.
Takai Crossing, the gate to Outremer in the east, had been quiet the last two months. Too quiet. Nothing had tried to escape into Inverness, otherwise known as Earth.
Outremer was the realm of magic. All manners of creatures lived there, including his kind. It was a dark and dangerous world. The gates, where both worlds touched, allowed people to cross. Keepers, such as he was, protected the worlds from spilling too much into each other.
The two worlds around his gate were safe for the moment.
The rough seas splashed warm water onto his bare feet and washed away the dirt from the dock. Dark storm clouds brewed over the horizon, racing toward Izu Oshima Island. Bands of orange and red slashed across them as the sun set.
He couldn’t wait until it arrived. Flying against the elements, muscle and sinew versus lightning and rain, would provide some relief from this calm.
Sheep bleated as the cargo ship knocked against the dock wall.
“Moe,” he called out over the noise.
The animals scurried to the far end of their pen and silence fell over the small herd.
Sometimes animals were smarter than humans. They could sense a predator in disguise.
“Koishi.” Captain Moe waved from across the ship’s deck. He helped a female to stand, hanging her head and arms over the side rail. “Vomit in the sea, not on my ship,” he told her before shuffling toward the stern.
Clinging to the pens, Koishi kept his balance and surveyed the stock. A few cattle, less than he’d like. Twentyish head of sheep, difficult to count when they squeezed together like that.
From the barking--he grinned--a few dogs.
Moe gave him a quick bow, then gestured to the livestock. “This week’s order. Was
Master Ishi pleased with last week’s?” His voice shook. Who could blame him? Koishi’s dragon form was fierce, which forced him to hide among them in his man-form, as his own servant. A genius idea.
“Yes, he especially enjoyed the little dogs you brought.” The small bundles had been tender and their hair very short so they didn’t tickle when swallowed. They went well with a movie.<
br />
“The Chihuahuas?”
“Yes, those. You should buy a few breeding pair and start producing them. He’ll buy
whatever you bring.”
Moe grimaced, but nodded.
Why did humans frown upon him eating dogs? They were delicious. He’d even sent his
crazed mother a basket of them as a present. He would have loved to see the expression on her stern face when those arrived. She never played with her food. Her warrior nature wouldn’t allow such nonsense.
The boat jerked from under his feet as a fierce wave knocked the ship once more. “Better unload my--uh--Master Ishi’s--cargo before the storm hits. He finished the last of his prey yesterday and is hungry.” His stomach grumbled and he rubbed it. Not long now.
A groan traveled from the half-conscious female hanging on the side-rails for dear life.
“Your woman looks ill.”
Moe snorted. “Not mine. The ferry won’t run in this weather and she refused to wait. She bought passage with me.” He chuckled. “She fed the fish the whole way across. Where such a tiny thing keeps all that stored is beyond me.”
The smell from that side of the ship soured the air. He shook his head. Tourists. Always in a rush, clogging the beaches and disturbing his home. No matter the rumors of his existence, a few had to be chased down the volcano’s side as a reminder that the area wasn’t safe to play around. He doubted any of them truly wanted to cross through the gate--it would be suicide--but he couldn’t allow concrete evidence of him to surface. Baker Morris, a human company that dealt with the gatekeepers, would have a fit.
The magic realm tolerated some humans, but not the section where his gate exited.
Shadowburn was a place where nightmares were born, and Takai gate resided close to a goblin nest. Whatever mortal stepped through wouldn’t survive for long. No, his duty was to keep the vermin from crossing into Inverness, or like the humans called it, Earth.
His memory surpassed those of the short-lived locals, though they did tell their young the goblin stories. He had heard them repeated often in taverns and around campfires. In each one he was the hero. He’d driven back the goblin hordes when the last gatekeeper had been
overwhelmed, and he would continue to do so until he fell.
What dragon wouldn’t want such a destiny?
He had easy food, battles at his doorstep, and an island full of people who worshipped the myth of him. The gate had chosen well when it bonded to him.
Moe followed him off the ship. “She barely speaks Japanese.”
“Who?”
“The puker.”
He shrugged and continued along the dock. A truck backed close to the ship. “Load the livestock in there. I’ve hired new handlers, so show them what to do.” He dropped a gold coin into Moe’s waiting hand.
Unfortunately, changes happened quicker in the mortal world. Not many dealt with gold or silver anymore. Humans wanted paper or plastic now, but where was the warm and shiny in that?
Moe liked gold. Koishi could appreciate that in a male, and he trusted greed. They
worked well together. Too bad Moe would be dead in a few decades. Finding ships, not only to transport, but to make his purchases on the main island, grew more difficult with each generation. If he had to start hunting the old fashioned way, they’d find a replacement fast, he guessed.
“Don’t let them release the dogs. They escape the pastures too easily, then the fucking locals adopt them. Master Ishi hates to make little girls cry.” He gave Moe a meaningful glare.
Some of those Chihuahuas had escaped the pen last week. Little slippery snacks. His old handlers didn’t want them eaten.
Nobody would ever see him setting farmers’ poultry loose because he didn’t agree with the human penchant for winged meat, though technically, chickens couldn’t fly. He wouldn’t eat them. It wasn’t ethical.
Moe bowed. “Please extend my apologies to your master, Koishi. I’ll make sure these
handlers are more respectful and unauthorized releases never happen again.”
* * * *
Sandra stared at the mocking gray waves. They rolled the ship back and forth, back and
forth, back and…she heaved one more time, pain radiating across her stomach, but nothing came out. Vomit had stopped flowing out of her before they’d docked. There was only so much a woman could puke, after all.
The lovely captain, who smelled of a wonderful combination of aged sheep and fish, had yelled at her the whole trip. Every time he approached and made her lean over the side of the ship, his stench would start a fresh wave of heaving. She needed to get off this forsaken ship before they had to bury her at sea.
Pushing against the railing, she took one stumbling step at a time across the rocking deck.
If she waited for the world to stabilize, she’d grow old and gray before making one move. As she fell forward, something hard caught her under the arm and prevented a full force belly flop. A nibble on her fingertips shocked her straight out the nausea. She jerked her hand away and braced herself against a wooden pen.
Sheep.
She wiped the ewe spit on her shirt, next to the vomit stain. A sob knotted in her chest.
She had to be here. She’d had no choice. Glaring at the animals, she wobbled away, using the pen’s fence as a crutch.
Captain Moe stood on the dock speaking with a tall Asian man. Hell, they were all Asian.
She was the foreigner here. Japan had sounded so distant a few days ago, yet here she stood after spreading her DNA across the narrow strip of ocean separating the main island from this small one.
She hadn’t met too many Asians who were taller than her. Eyeing him, she appreciated the way his jeans clung to his muscular legs. His white t-shirt had a few dirt smudges on the front. He folded his thick arms over his chest and watched her slow progress with what she thought was a hint of amusement.
On weak legs, she stepped off the death trap and took a deep breath. It didn’t smell any better, but it at least didn’t smell worse. She had to find somewhere to stay before beginning her search. Someplace with a shower. Oh yes, a long, hot shower with lots and lots of soap to wash away the boat journey’s nightmarish memory.
The last few months had shredded her world. Her sister’s condition had taken a turn for the worse and the doctors had told Beth that her prognosis was poor. When Sandra had left, they were trying to convince her to send Beth to a hospice. She’d refused the idea.
Beth was all the family she had left. Nothing would stand in Sandra’s way of finding some hope, a procedure, or a…cure.
Not even a dragon.
She had run to her best friend and they’d cried on each other’s shoulders. That was when her friend had confessed a have-to-take-it-to-the-grave secret or her employer would kill them both. Her friend worked for Baker Morris, an agency that researched, chronicled, monitored and sometimes was forced to police creatures that came from another plane.
This other world was called Outremer and certain areas of both worlds touched to create gates. That was when she learned about gatekeepers. Especially about a certain dragon keeper who hoarded magical treasure.
Humans didn’t know about the magical realm. Hell, it had taken some convincing to get her to believe, and she was desperate. Determination could stiffen any spine and give courage to any coward. She’d need to muster all she could to face Gatekeeper Ishi. They didn’t have dragons in the mid-west. He’d be her first, and she didn’t know shit about them.
Flipping through her English-to-Japanese phrase book, she approached the captain and asked for the closest hotel.
Both men blinked and stared as if she grown a second head.
The stranger snorted, then threw his head back laughing. He slapped the captain on the back and dropped him to the ground. “Oh!” Bending over, he helped the captain back to his feet.
“We don’t run those types of tea houses on the island anymore. It’s frowned upon.”
“Tea
house? I asked for a hotel.” Slapping the book closed, she stuffed it in her pocket.
“You speak good English.”
“So do you.” He continued to grin as the captain bowed to him and returned to the ship.
“It’s an odd time of the year to visit Izu Oshima Island. Tourist season doesn’t start for another month.”
“Good, it should be easy to find a room. Can you point me in the right direction?” The seasickness fogging her head faded and her vision cleared. Her gaze met the man’s dark, intense stare. Heat flushed her cheeks in a wave of awareness. In her state of disarray, puke stains and all, she wanted to crawl back on the boat.
His gaze traveled lower, caressing her curves, before returning to her face. Only a
predator could own such a hungry stare. “If you make a right off the dock, it will lead you to the main road.”
“Thank you.” She shifted the weight of the pack on her back and marched toward the
street.
He twisted as she passed him, his gaze weighing heavily on her. “It’s about a three hour walk to the nearest hotel. If you run, you might beat the storm.”
She spun around. “What?” she wanted to smack that stupid grin off his face. The trip across the strait had been harrowing enough. She wasn’t in any shape to hike in a storm. “Do you have cabs?”
“Yes.” He approached her. “During tourist season.”
“Then how do people move around the island? There have to be buses.” She peered at the storm clouds, which appeared closer than before. She hadn’t considered the consequences of rushing here. Time was running out and she’d jumped on the first flight out to Japan.
“They walk or bike. There are a few buses, but I don’t know their schedules.” His gaze lowered to the opening of her blouse. “Maybe we could come to some kind of arrangement.”
Gasping, she clutched the edges of her blouse shut. “I don’t think so.” She must look better than she felt or smelled. How could anyone be interested in her in this state?
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