by Eve Langlais
A little? The male voice laughed in her head.
“The suzerain wants you.” Jabba eyed her, as was fitting.
She tossed her hair. “Suzie can kiss my perky ass. Wait.” She frowned. “He already wants to do that. On second thought, tell Suzie to blow himself because these lips belong to Sammy.”
“You think you have a choice?” Jabba snickered. “Night-night princess.” He poured powder into his hand from the satchel at his…not exactly a waist. Roll by his side? Starboard section?
The fine particles flew through the air, a hazy mess of dust that she knew better than to inhale. She waved a hand frantically. Held her breath. Pinched her nose, and puffed her cheeks.
The fine dust landed on her skin.
Her eyes shut, and she sagged to the floor as the locks tumbled and clicked, the door inching open.
Only when Jabba was right over her, grunting—rudely—as he pulled her feather-light body—lighter than he implied, goddammit—did she snap open her eyes and yell, “Boo!” before swinging her legs upward and kicking Jabba in the head.
Rolling to her feet, she punched Jabba again and again. Giggling all the while.
“Drug me. Ha. My mother made me immune to most potions at a young age.” Not always intentionally. Deka liked to swallow the stuff in the pretty bottles, especially if it glowed.
“Don’t. You’ll. Fuck.” Jabba couldn’t finish a sentence, and soon couldn’t stand. He slumped to the floor, unconscious.
She put a foot on him and raised her hands in victory. “And the crowd goes wild.”
When no applause was forthcoming, she glared at Sammy. “Ahem. I said the crowd goes wild.”
He crossed his arms. She knew that look.
The kind that said he wanted to thank her in person rather than waste his energy clapping.
“I’m coming for you, Sammy.” And she meant that quite literally. Shudder.
Chapter Ten
Nothing like the emasculating moment when you realize the petite and curvy woman, incarcerated less than a day, had a better plan for escape than you.
As they wandered the halls of the castle—free because of her actions—she asked, “Are you sulking?”
“I’m not sulking,” he pouted, the gravity working overtime on his lower lip. “I still don’t understand how Jabba’s shit didn’t knock you out.”
“Practice, stud. I’m sure over time you’d have built up the same immunity to drugs that I have. Keep in mind, my mother is an alchemist. I’ve been inoculated and rendered immune to a host of things.”
“Did you have to go take care of the other jailor on your own before releasing me?” Despite his repeated yells, she’d sprinted off—with the fucking keys—to knock out and drag back the other jailor. They were both now locked in her cell.
Then, and only fucking then, had she released him.
The shame of it.
“Don’t pout, stud. I was just doing my honorable duty to my Sept by keeping the king’s brother safe.”
“Bullshit. You want me to owe you.”
“Well, duh. You know as well as I that it’s all about the win. Now, are you going to wax on some more about my most eloquent escape or join me in completing it?” She held out her hand. “Let’s blow this joint.”
Almost, he reached for her hand, only to recall the mind-wiping experience of it last time.
If she touches me, I might not remember what I’m supposed to do.
And that’s a bad thing because?
He couldn’t afford to be muddled right now. Freedom awaited.
Brushing past her, his body shivering in awareness as skin rubbed against skin, he stalked the hallway of his own volition.
Go back. If the suzerain catches you roaming, you’ll be in so much trouble.
Shut the fuck up.
“Who is that talking?” she asked.
“Stop listening to my thoughts.”
“Stop shouting them then. Not my fault you’re noisy. Which, I will add, I don’t usually mind when it’s about me and only me. But in this case, you are replying to someone else, and I don’t like it.”
“What are you yapping about now? I’m not talking to anyone but your crazy ass.”
“And the voice inside your head. Who is it? I warned you about my jealous side. Mind-speaking should be something for you and me alone. No one else.”
He paused and whirled. “What are you talking about?”
“That voice. You know the one that wants you to be a pussy. Who is it?”
“Me.” The shame of it burned, acid tearing at his insides.
She shook her head. “No, it’s not. Don’t tell me you thought it was?” She snickered. “Silly dragon. How could you not realize someone screwed with your mind?”
You mean it’s not me telling myself to wuss out and show my fucking belly?
Don’t listen to her. She knows not of what she speaks.
Who the fuck is in my head?
Dumb question. Only one person would screw with his thoughts.
“That fucker.” No wonder Samael kept rolling over. He wasn’t truly listening to himself. Someone pulled his mental strings. “How do I get rid of it?”
“What do you mean how?” Her lips pursed. “Did no one teach you to guard your mind?” She made a disparaging noise. “Of course, Parker and that uptight bitch priestess didn’t.”
“Tell me how to make my thoughts my own. Lobotomy? Maybe if you punched me in the face. Just try not to break my nose. It is rather perfect.”
Her lips twitched. “Almost as perfect as mine. As for owning your mind, it’s rather simple, actually. Tell yourself the world revolves around me.”
A frown creased his brow. “The world revolves around me? That’s it?”
“No, silly muffin. Around me.” She jabbed at her chest. “Although, you will meet some dragons who will try and convince you that they are the center of the universe. Totally false. It’s me. Always has been.”
She certainly was a shining light in his current existence. Still, it seemed too simple. “How is focusing on you supposed to help?” Then again, when he narrowed his view on her, everything else faded into the background: danger, his depression, wisps in the wind; however, focusing on her did make his throbbing cock and balls situation more pronounced.
“It works because, once you accept that I am the center of your universe, then you’ll know the only voice you should listen to is mine. Anyone else, you can ignore.”
Listen only to her? But she thought he was worthy of fighting for. She wanted to do decadent things to his body.
And he wanted to return that favor.
But still, making her the sum of his existence? Wasn’t that trading one prison for another?
“How about I stop listening to all the voices in my head and instead do what I want.” Because, hold on a second, as a Gold dragon, shouldn’t the world, nay the entire universe, work around him?
“Are you disobeying me?” Deka whirled, green eyes flashing, lips curved in a smile.
How sexy she appeared.
And dangerous.
“It’s not disobeying if I refuse to acknowledge you’re more important than me. Actually, I will note that you are the one being rather impertinent with a Golden heir.” The arrogance felt good slipping from his lips.
“Does this mean you’re going to punish me?”
Bend her over my knees and slap her ass.
“Yes!” she growled, reading his thoughts.
She threw herself at him, slamming him into a wall, pressing herself against his body.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“It occurred to me that while we’re practically engaged, we’ve never kissed.”
“We’re not engaged. I never asked you to be my mate.”
“Semantics. We’re meant to be together. If it makes you feel better, how about we take a modern approach. Hey, Samael D’Ore, wanna hook up?”
In a sane world, he would have said no. Then agai
n, sanity was totally overrated. He palmed her ass and lifted her and murmured against her mouth, “I want to fuck you until you come so hard you can’t scream.”
A distinct shiver went through her body, vibrated into his hands, and trembled against his frame.
So sexy, which was why he kissed her.
He did.
First.
Finally, something he could claim as a win over this woman.
Except, while he might have started it, the mere touch of their lips rendered him incoherent. Pleasure suffused every ounce of his body. His nerve endings tingled. Golden power rushed through his veins.
He throbbed with need.
Yet she pushed away.
“Come back here,” he growled.
She danced out of reach as he grabbed. “Not now, stud muffin. We have an escape to master. But hold on to that thought for later.” She winked.
Fucking winked instead of taking care of the turgid problem jutting from his body.
He peeked down at his poor cock.
Soon, buddy. You heard what she said.
He was pretty sure someone sobbed.
Given he had reasserted some measure of dominance—I am, after all, brother to a king—he followed the pert ass ahead of him. It was only right that someone led the way and heralded his approach.
Despite having only been taken through the gauntlet of halls twice—once there, once back—she seemed to unerringly know where to turn. In short order, they’d left the cool temperatures of the basement levels below the castle for the more ornate and slightly warmer corridors of the main level.
Where they would usually turn left at the alcove with the basin of flickering blue flame, she turned right.
“Why are you going this way?” he asked.
“Because the other way went deeper into this castle and upstairs. We want a door going outside.”
“What’s wrong with a window?” He gestured.
Deka slowed and eyed the dusky gray curtain that spanned ceiling to floor. The thick material fell in heavy pleats.
“The windows probably have bars.”
The lame excuse caused him to frown. “Why do I get the sensation you’re reluctant to see the outdoors?”
“Because I have a feeling I know why my crew hasn’t come to save me. And you won’t like it.” She yanked on the curtain and drew it open.
The vista outside beckoned, and he looked upon the barren gray wasteland with its red-rimmed rifts and stormy sky to realize, even as she said it, “We’re not on Earth anymore, stud.”
Chapter Eleven
“What do you mean the tracker isn’t working?” Aunt Xylia barked at her laptop. The usually calm and staid elder Silvergrace was completely losing her shit.
The video conference call with Aunts Valda and Varna showed them frazzled, their platinum hair sticking out on all sides, their cardigans stained with meals. They’d obviously been working on the problem but didn’t have the answer Xylia, or anyone for that matter, wanted.
Varna replied. “I mean, according to the satellite signals that were logged, her last recorded position is the one we gave you.”
Turning around in a circle, pointing her laptop camera at the cow field they stood in, Xylia snapped, “As you can see, she’s not here.”
“Perhaps the chip was removed?” Babette offered.
The Aunts V managed to stare at her, disdain in their gazes clear, despite the laptop screen. “One does not simply remove one of our chips.”
Valda sniffed. “Not to mention, they’re specially designed to immediately notify us the moment they leave living tissue.”
“What about an EMP?” Babette asked, putting her Star Trek knowledge to good use. “Would it wipe the circuitry?”
“Not likely. These were specially designed to ensure that the humans couldn’t simply disable them and start nabbing us without us being aware.”
“Well, something happened to fuck up your signal,” Xylia snapped while Babette gasped—in delight. It was rare that an aunt lost her cool and swore.
It didn’t last. Xylia sighed. “Excuse my language.” She pulled a flask from her pocket and chugged it with a grimace. Apparently, the punishment wasn’t just for the younger dragonesses.
“What about magic?” Babette asked.
“It could be magic, I guess.” Valda frowned. “But it’s rather rare for this time. I think I’ve only met two human mages in my life. I’ve never heard of a magic that can stifle technology. Blow it up, yes. But change its properties…” She shook her head.
“What do we do now?” Xylia paced in the field, agitation over her daughter’s disappearance clear. “What if that disgruntled Golden dragon brother of Remiel’s has her?”
“Then she’ll be happier than a pig rolling in warm mud and be pissed if we save her.” Babette’s contribution was met with a glare. “Just saying, Deka is convinced he’s her mate. If they are together, then be prepared for a fight because if she’s claimed him, she won’t give him up.”
“If she’s claimed him, then there will be problems. We already have a Golden male in the family. Not to mention a purebred king.”
“But he’s over in the USA.”
“Your point being?”
The focus of all the eyes made Babette nervous, and yet, she owed it to Deka to try. “I’m saying that, back in the day, even the Goldens had to split their power. The high king ruled over all the Septs, but he had ambassadors in the different countries to rule in his stead.”
“Are you advocating that Samael, after everything he’s done, should be forgiven and placed in a position of power?”
“Um, yeah?” She didn’t quite manage assertiveness with her reply.
Yet, Auntie still beamed. “What an excellent idea and solution.”
Aunt Vanna snickered. “And this has nothing to do at all with the fact that your daughter would end up more powerful than our sister Zahra.”
“The thought never crossed my mind.” Xylia’s false claim went well with her rapacious smile.
The dragons might unite under one color, but at heart, the hunger for power—and more treasure—ruled them.
“I hate to ruin this love fest…” Anyone could tell that Yolanda, Babette’s own mother—the lovely pastels in her hair not entirely faded—didn’t feel sorry at all. “But what if the child isn’t fornicating with the half-breed Golden? She could be in trouble.”
“You know she’s in trouble. Especially if she is a prisoner of the red-eyed creature who killed the priestess.” Deka was always in trouble. She just usually had Babette by her side sharing it.
“If that thing is involved and still using wyverns to do her dirty work, then that would explain the lack of scent.” Aunt Xylia crouched to the ground and sniffed, her eyes flaring green as she drew on her other self. “It is as if Deka traversed this field, barely leaving a trace, then disappeared into thin air.”
“You think they flew off with her?” Babette frowned. “But how does that explain the lack of signal?”
“It doesn’t. As of right now, we have no proof as to who is involved.”
“Deka’s gut—”
“Is not what led her to France. A dead end is what brought her.” Xylia fixed Babette with a stare. “I know about the crate and its disappearance. I also know my daughter was gallivanting around the city, declaring to all who would listen that she was looking for Samael and not keeping her own origins quiet.” The stern rebuke had Babette eyeing her toes.
They could really use a new coat of polish.
Perhaps she should have tried harder to… Damn, but Auntie was good. She’d almost managed to make her feel guilty.
Straightening, she held her head high. “Deka was acting because no one else would. What if that red-eyed doppelganger did steal Samael?”
“Let us take your theory one step further. What if that doppelganger now also has a Silver daughter? Can you imagine the havoc she could cause with Deka and Samael?”
For a moment,
there was silence as they imagined it. The glorious chaos that would ensue.
Funny, but Babette wasn’t all that worried about her best friend and cousin. Deka, on her own, could get into tons of trouble with very little help—also known as tons of fun. Add in a Deka in love, and some red-eyed she-bitch getting in the way?
Shit could get scary, real fast.
“We’d better crack out the leather.” It could handle blood better than any polyester rayon blend.
Chapter Twelve
Sitting on the throne, Deka watched Samael pacing. He did it so well, the muscles of his body taut, his expression grim, the loincloth he’d fashioned around his hips not fooling anyone.
I know what you’re hiding down there, stud. A treasure for the sucking.
And suck it she would if he ever stopped agitating long enough to notice they were alone.
You should have ravaged me by now. She thought hard at him, and he didn’t miss a beat.
The man was good. Oh so good. But he couldn’t resist her forever.
“How the fuck are we supposed to escape?” he muttered for the zillionth time, instead of what he should have been saying, namely, bend over, cutie pie, and let me take you to heaven.
The man really needed to reassess his priorities.
“Calm down, stud. We’ll figure something out.”
He fixed her with a fiery green gaze, hinting of red. Was this place contagious?
“I am perfectly calm considering I’ve been taken prisoner in an alien dimension.”
“I don’t know if I’d call it alien.” No tentacles or bug-eyed people so far. “It kind of resembles the biblical version of Hell.”
“Not helping.”
“Neither are you, I might add. We’ve been out of our cells a whole thirty minutes, and you’ve yet to try and seduce me.”
He planted his hands on his hips and huffed. “Is that all you can think about? Sex?”
She blinked and smiled. She also might have stretched inappropriately. “Yeah. And judging by the boner between your legs, so are you.”
