Dark and Damaged: Eight Tortured Heroes of Paranormal Romance: Paranormal Romance Boxed Set

by Colleen Gleason

  “Besides, you have to burn your father,” Thane said. “Honor him with fire, then revenge.”

  Emerson shivered. The smell of burning flesh was still in her nose, in her clothes, in her hair. She wanted a shower. She might soon beg for one.

  “Or would you leave him to rot?” Thane added.

  There was a grunting scuffle for a moment, through which she squeezed her eyes shut. Please, no more death. No more blood. No more dragons, either.

  When silence fell, she looked at them out of the corner of her eye, dreading what she might discover. Thane held Locke in the air with one hand clutched around his neck. Thane hadn’t put his shirt back on, so the last of his crusty wounds were visible on his bulging muscles. Her imagination supplied a vision of dragon spines ripping through the skin on his back. Thane might be eccentric, but he had reason to be.

  “I want Emerson,” Ransom said to Thane. “She doesn’t need to be caught up in this Blood feud. Taken advantage of. I’ll marry her today, if need be.”

  She pressed her lips together in refusal. Not that he wasn’t a catch or anything—handsome, rich, scaly on the inside—but she was good solo, thanks. Besides, his brother’s face was turning an uncanny purple. Ransom should probably do something about that.

  “Emerson was finished with you the moment Gerard admitted that the remains discovered at Kingman Hills are those of my family,” Thane said.

  Actually, Emerson thought, she was done with the entire mediation when Gerard had admitted that, so there was no reason for her hang around. She just had to find that damned driver the Bloodkin had hired to bring her from the airport and get the hell out of Dodge. Now was as good a time as any.

  She stood, legs a little wobbly, bag on her arm, and walked across the room with as much composure as she could manage. Her weight on the balls of her feet muted the sound of her heels on the marble floor in the foyer. She was already grasping the front door’s handle—another snaky dragon—when Thane stopped her.

  “Where are you going?” His voice had that low roll deep within it. She knew now that the burr belonged to the dragon part of him.

  She gulped but didn’t turn around. “I need some fresh air. The smoke was—”

  “You stay where you are,” Thane said.

  “I’m not letting you take her,” Ransom said from behind her.

  “Letting me?” Thane growled. “Gerard said she had my answers, and I’m having them whether you like it or not.”

  Taking advantage of the distraction, Emerson opened the door and slipped outside. They could argue all they wanted, but she was her own boss now and she’d do what she liked. Right now, she wanted to run away. Unfortunately, the Bloodkin’s car and driver were nowhere to be seen.

  She speed-walked around the house toward the separate bank of garages she’d spotted when she’d arrived. Her car was probably there. Keys, too. And her driver, if she were lucky.

  Under no circumstances was she ever going back in that house. Come to think of it, she couldn’t go home, either. The Bloodkin owned her building.

  She fumbled in her bag for her phone. She’d call Bryan. He’d help her. And he’d probably laugh at her for not believing in dragons in the first place. She sure deserved a good ribbing…after a stiff drink, a good cry, and a lot of therapy. Because dragons…. She’d seen one break another’s neck. The mere memory of the sound of cracking bone made her cringe.

  The garage was labeled Carriage House—Bloodkin sure liked fancy names and titles—and there seemed to be a small office inside. She knocked on the door, and then tried the handle. Happy day, there was her driver with his feet up on a table watching television, a soda in hand.

  “If we can be on the road in thirty seconds,” she said, “I’ll give you five hundred dollars.” Company money.

  Her driver stood and grabbed his coat from the back of his chair.

  “That won’t be necessary,” Thane said behind her. “I’ll drive.”

  The driver looked crestfallen. Emerson felt the same way. How had Thane crept up so quietly?

  “That’s very kind of you, Mr. Ealdian,” she said, jerking a nod at her driver to get him moving, “but I have a ride.”

  Her driver took a step toward the garage door.

  “It’s Thane,” he told her, then turned to the driver. “Five thousand dollars for you to sit back down again.”

  Emerson scowled at the driver as he wavered a second, stepped back, and then traitorously lowered his butt back onto his seat.

  She held out her hand to the driver. “Give me the keys.”

  “Emerson, you have to come with me,” Thane said in that scary low tone of his.

  No, she didn’t.

  The driver put the keys in her hand. She might forgive him, after all.

  Taking the side door into the garage—six cars were neatly situated side by side—she pressed the fob to locate hers.

  “Can I help you?” came a voice from the back. Some Carriage House servant maybe?

  “I just need my car, thanks,” she called.

  “Emerson.” Thane took her arm. “Someone killed my wife and son.”

  Like a slap, the truth of the statement hit her. His wife and son. If dragons were real, maybe he was directly related to remains that were six hundred years old.

  She froze in place, suddenly uncertain.

  “Yes,” he said harshly. “They were—are—mine. I must discover who hurt them, who burned my little boy. And if you can help me…”

  Those remains had been his family. Someone had murdered them. Like her, Thane had been left alone in the world. He was in pain. She didn’t understand the Bloodkin, but that much she knew. Oh, God. She was such a pushover.

  She turned to him, and for the first time, really looked at him. Thane Ealdian’s eyes were as full of feeling as a stormy sky. The indigo color flickered with firelight from within, the vertical pupils like upheld daggers. His expression was drawn tight over features that were rough in their beauty—that full, tensed mouth, high cheekbones defined by such strain, brows angled with tension. His was the face of a desperate, angry…well, dragon.

  As close as he was, towering over her, broad shoulders blocking the door, she was acutely aware of him as a man. Had she actually laughed at him once?

  She couldn’t help shaking. “Look, I don’t know how you think I can help you. I have no idea what’s going on.”

  “And no idea where you came from, either.”

  “Ignorance is bliss.” She was sure of it now.

  He gave her a circumspect once-over, and his gaze felt like a scorching sun on exposed skin. “No, not for you. You’re Bloodkin through and through.”

  “Look, I don’t even think I am Bloodkin. I think there was a mistake. I don’t feel like a dragon.” She mostly suppressed a hysterical laugh. “And I don’t want to. That shift was horrible.”

  “It didn’t have to be,” Thane said. “The shift is usually…rapturous. Fast and hot. Freedom you can’t imagine until you’ve taken to the sky. You’ve got the Blood. I’ve seen the dragon in your eyes.” He paused. “No, don’t shake your head. I have.”

  “I would know if I were a dragon.” She’d said the same thing to Bryan.

  Thane pulled her even closer, and heat the likes of which she’d never known—velvet, caressing, sensual—moved over her skin. “And what will you do when the dragon grows stronger? When the Night Song touches you.”

  So close. Too close. “Night Song?”

  He leaned down, mouth to her ear. “My lady, the night will call to you. How will you fight it? When it’s time, how will you get to the safety of Havyn without the aid of the Bloodkin?”

  She dropped her gaze to the concrete floor, still shaking her head. She didn’t believe it, couldn’t. Night Song? Havyn?

  And damn, it was so hot in here. She tried to put a little space between them.

  Thane allowed her an inch. “Hic sunt dracones,” he said. “Here be dragons. It’s on a few very old maps but is
nevertheless difficult to find.”

  Maybe Bryan could help her find the answers. Or would the Bloodkin come after him? Make him shoot himself in his head to protect their secrets?

  She dared to look Thane in his extraordinary eyes. So what if it sent electric shocks along her nerves? “I was very graphically warned that I would die if I continued with the mediation.” Specifically, if she didn’t say the remains belonged to the Heolstors, which apparently, they didn’t. “A man killed himself in front of me.”

  “You’re not a coward,” Thane said, his upper lip curling with satisfaction. Why did he keep saying that? “Nor easily bullied.”

  Bullied. She hadn’t thought of it that way, but, yes, someone had tried to bully her, and in the worst way possible. How stupid of her not to realize it.

  “I’m terrified,” she admitted

  “Not the same thing as being a coward.”

  “I saw a dragon today.” She wasn’t over it. Not nearly.

  Thane smiled. “And wasn’t he magnificent? You should see one sky bound.”

  Her heart lost its beat. “Are you going to kill me?”

  His smile faded and he gave a reluctant shrug. “I hope not. I’m near my final shift, too. I can only promise I’ll keep my distance when the Night Song tempts me.”

  It wasn’t much of an assurance, but she really did like how honest he was. Lots of crazy, but no bullshit.

  “I still don’t know how I can help you,” she said.

  “Think,” he told her. “You’re the keystone in the bridge between me and the one who murdered my family.”

  That sounded ominous.

  He leaned in again. “Who seems to know more about you than you know about yourself?”

  Emerson thought back. There was no one in her life who knew… Wait. “Mr. Fraser.” He’d even admitted to being another messenger. And he’d called her, my lady. Which had been weird coming from him.

  Thane pulled back a smile, fierce and feral, his lightning eyes flashing. “That’s where we’ll start.”

  ***

  Thane turned on to an open road and pressed his foot to the gas.

  “I’m just going to say it since I’m probably going to die anyway.” Emerson was gripping her seat.

  He heard her heartbeat accelerate as she held her breath. His heart beat faster, too. While in seclusion, so many things had been blotted from his mind by the Night Song—memories, purpose, sensations as a man perceives them. Now, stimuli beat him constantly, and he relished every impact. For example, Emerson’s too-sweet fragrance had grown slightly earthier with her sweat and stress. He took big lungsful of Emerson-scented air to clear his mind.

  “Yes?” Thane tilted his head toward her, waiting for her to continue.

  “You have no business behind the wheel of a car.”

  “I’ve missed flying.” It’d been a century at least since he’d dared become a dragon to enjoy the ecstasy of flight.

  “Well, fly in the sky, buddy. Puny human beings have only so many years to live, not your six hundred.”

  Where had she gotten six hundred? Ah. “I was rather middle-aged by Bloodkin standards when I took Carreen to wife.”

  She gaped at him. “How long do you people live?”

  “You people? We live as long as we can control our dragon. The human is dominant early in life, and so we usually shift for the first time upon reaching maturity. Over time, however, the dragon becomes more ascendant, and it’s not safe to shift, especially near human habitations.”

  “And this will happen with me?”

  “Yes, when you’re ready.” What a strange woman she was, alternately fearless and vulnerable. She seemed to be able to brave just about anything, except when it came to her identity, and then she was lost.

  “You mentioned Emmerich Reds earlier,” she said.

  When he was introducing her to Gerard, yes. “A long time ago, the Emerson name was Emmerich. Your dragon will be deep red, like the summer sun when it is low on the horizon.”

  At her silence, he glanced over to find her looking out her window. The Emmerichs had been a proud line. Pride had killed them…almost. Where had this one come from?

  “What do you know about your background?” he asked.

  “Apparently, nothing.”

  “You knew enough to apply to the Bloodkin for tuition money for your studies.”

  Her gaze whipped back to him so quickly he almost laughed. There was her temper.

  “You checked up on me?”

  “Of course. I have good reason. What do you know of your heritage?” he asked again. The clue to his riddle could be in the mysterious appearance of an Emmerich after so long.

  She gave an exasperated sigh. He was discovering that her nature had a flare for drama.

  “When I was little, a visiting step-uncle mentioned that I was a dragon shifter. It’s supposedly why I was such a pain in the ass. Anyway, it stuck in my head. One of the only things I can remember from that time, actually. When I was applying for financial aid, I checked the box. That’s all it was—a checked box—and I got a free ride, plus a generous stipend for living costs. I still think—and have always thought—that someone made a mistake.”

  She clung to her doubt. It would not save her. Doubt never had that power.

  “The Bloodkin don’t make mistakes like that.” He turned on to an open highway, the better for speed. “Someone would’ve immediately investigated your background and confirmed that you have dragon blood in your veins, and he or she made the decision not to inform the rest of the kin. Of course, your name helped to obscure your identity. Clark isn’t a Bloodkin surname, and Emerson isn’t a female first name.”

  “All I got was a letter on Bloodkin Assembly letterhead specifying the amount of aid. No other information.”

  Now he had some questions for Godric. “Why would you be given information? Knowledge is power, and we dragons like power just as much as we like wealth. Someone is using you, and we are going to find out who.”

  “I still don’t get why I’d have anything to do with your wife and child.”

  He was going to scare her again with what he had to say, but he had to say it. “I think you were offered to me as a replacement for Carreen. Young Bloodkin women are rare and in high demand.”

  Her eyes widened in horror.

  “Oh, don’t worry,” he said. “I’m declining, or didn’t you notice?” It didn’t matter that he enjoyed her company or that he wanted to touch her. “You’re lovely, intelligent, and have an intriguing spark in your eyes, but I won’t be placated with a hasty and convenient substitute for Carreen. Whoever killed my wife and son will pay in equal measure.”

  “I was offered to you? So women are just things? What’s the word you ancient folks use…chattel?”

  Ancient folks. She made him sound so old, when he felt younger than he had in ages. “It’s not like that, not among the Bloodkin. Sending you was strategic. To keep the peace.” How could he make her understand? “It’s like arranged marriages. Their purpose is strength and prosperity. My union with Carreen was arranged.”

  While they had not understood each other, they had created Rinc. What a magnificent future they had held in their hands—that squalling, angry little tyrant.

  The dragon stirred within, made restless by a flare of fury.

  Thane realized Emerson was watching him, smoothed his expression, and released his death grip on the steering wheel. Rinc. He had to change the subject. “What do you know of your parents?”

  Emerson stared at the road in front of her, a hand now braced on the roof of the car.

  “Not much. Both my parents are dead. I was adopted by a good friend of theirs—Jillian Stevens—and then when she died, I got passed around her family. No one really wanted me. I don’t blame them. I wasn’t even related. So when I got to be too much trouble, social services took over.” She hesitated for a moment. “I’m sorry about your wife and son. You must have loved them very much.”

&nbs
p; Again, the dragon moved under his skin. Thane’s foot pressed harder on the accelerator.

  He tried yet another topic. “Your taste in lovers could use some work. A dog? Really?”

  “Is that why you had Matthew follow me? To see who I was meeting?” She didn’t seem embarrassed though. These modern women.

  “I had Matthew follow you because Bloodkin have never been safe on their own. The general public may not believe in dragons, but many others do.” He paused, considering, but decided to tell her everything. “I asked Carreen’s sister Lena to look into you. She was the only other person who searched for Carreen and Rinc with me, who believed Carreen hadn’t purposely run away.”

  Emerson was silent, and the dragon was so restless within him that he stopped fighting and tried talking about it. It almost seemed as if his dragon wanted her to know.

  “Carreen denied the dragon within her. Some choose to never shift and at the end of their lives, suicide as a human before the dragon overwhelms them. And I…I reveled in the strength and boundlessness that I found in my dragon form. No one crossed me. No one stole from me. Few looked me in the eyes. She was afraid and had reason to be, though she did her duty. She was an ill-matched wife, perhaps. But a mother to the bone.”

  The silence between them grew, and that old despair tightened around him again, making it difficult to breathe. He’d given Carreen everything, but he couldn’t give up his dragon. It was inside of him. It was him.

  Heat rippled over his skin, like the promise of ecstasy without the release. All this time, and he was as lost as he’d been before. No pleasures could satisfy him. No amount of gold would make him smile. The value of everything had been rendered to dust.

  “Bryan is not a dog, by the way,” Emerson said after a while.

  Thane smiled slightly. He wasn’t sure, but he thought she was trying to make him feel better.

  “He’s a wolf shifter, and he’s my brother. Foster brother. He was going to help me get away from you crazy Bloodkin, though I don’t see how that’s really possible anymore. Not if I’m going to change into a dragon someday. I wouldn’t want to eat any…villagers or anything.”