by Jory Strong
“Have you talked to the police?”
“No. I’m the only one worried about her. Her mother and mine both say she’ll show up eventually. But I can’t shake the feeling she’s in trouble. No one in my family will back me up if I ask the police to look for her and I don’t have the cash to pay a private detective, not without selling some of the gems I need for my jewelry. You know how that is. Unless it’s the right buyer, I’d take a loss on them. If you can help, I thought maybe you could look through my collection—”
“If I can help, you don’t owe me anything.” Behind them the chimes announced another visitor to the shop. “Or better yet, consider the debt paid in full by your humoring me and holding on to the mirror so I can determine if using heartmate stones instead of sorcerer stones achieves the outcome I hoped for.”
Before Jazzlyn could think of a response the stones flared, becoming liquid silver spiked with dark blue. The change was so obvious Jazzlyn couldn’t deny seeing it.
For a split second, just as a man’s face was captured in the mirror, she would have sworn he was outlined in the image of a silver dragon with a blue neck crest. A blink and he was only a man, the stones clear again but still warm to the touch.
He can’t be real, she thought, her stomach doing a somersault and her throat going so tight she doubted she could get a word out with a crowbar.
There was gorgeous, and then there was raw, primal beauty. He could have been conjured right out of one of her most decadent fantasies. The kind where a dominant male—one who deserved her trust—took possession of her and never let her go.
Dark blue eyes bored into hers intently, causing her channel to spasm and drench her panties in arousal. Embarrassment flooded into her with the realization he could probably see her expression in the mirror and read her thoughts.
She hastily set the mirror on the counter and turned as Aislinn did. Her breath caught at the full impact of the stranger who’d entered the store, the very one whose image in the mirror had sent desire racing through her, and who—if what was claimed about heartstones was true—was supposed to be her perfect mate.
Black hair cascaded to his shoulders in waves she wanted to touch. A broad chest and muscular arms begged to be caressed. And his lips…
Pleasure. They were made for it—both giving and receiving it.
Jazzlyn shivered as she realized her perusal of him was chaste compared to the one he gave her. He stripped her with his eyes. Bent her over the counter and fucked her where she stood.
The heat in her cheeks deepened. Escaping the shop was impossible.
She couldn’t move. Couldn’t utter a single word.
She was drowning in lust and confusion. She was totally out of her depth.
“I am Kirill.”
His name rumbled through her saying something more. You are mine.
Her nipples tightened painfully and her cunt clenched. “Jazzlyn,” she managed, amazed she could even remember who she was given the intensity of his stare and the effect he had on her.
She licked her lips and he stepped further into her personal space, swamping her with his heat and scent, making her lightheaded with it. She yielded, stepping back involuntarily only to have her escape blocked by the counter.
Movement, Aislinn’s hand settling on Kirill’s arm, reminded Jazzlyn of where she was and why she was there. More color slid into her cheeks, though her embarrassment didn’t deepen. If anyone could witness what had just happened between her and Kirill, and accept it as perfectly normal, it was Aislinn.
“I promised Jazzlyn safety from whatever came of holding the mirror,” Aislinn said.
Kirill only barely resisted the urge to roar and breathe fire. The hope he’d nurtured even after journeying from the portal and realizing his soon-to-be mate was going to be found in Inner Magick went up in flames and left him cursing sorcerers, elves, and his fate in general.
By the Great Shared Ancestor, was it so much to ask that after centuries of suffering a thing many males would prefer death rather than endure, that coming to this magic-poor realm, collecting his mate, and returning home would be an easy task?
Oh, he’d known the coordinates of the location where Jazzlyn would hold the mirror, but he’d had no reason to venture here until now.
Of all the places, why this one?
True, he’d never been here, but he knew of it from the reports he’d gotten when he was seeking an heir and considering Xanthus.
Marika worked here and called Aislinn her friend. And now the half-elf had offered Jazzlyn a promise of safety, a guarantee that would no doubt be enforced by the three dragon lords who had guards posted outside the shop.
Kirill suppressed his fire by will alone, pushing it deep inside where it melded to that scorching through his cock at being so close to his mate. Think, he ordered himself, forcing his eyes off Jazzlyn because it was nearly impossible to consider anything other than gaining possession of her when he looked at her.
The mirror came into focus. It was a match to the one he’d held centuries earlier, except for the gems. Once they’d been sorcerer stones, now they were something else entirely.
A closer look and satisfaction purred through him. Heartstone.
They were clear now where moments earlier they’d been blue and silver. Dragon colors. His colors.
He turned his head and met the soft lavender of the half-elf’s eyes. She knew Jazzlyn belonged to him. So why had she chosen to meddle?
As if guessing his thoughts, Aislinn said, “It’s good you arrived when you did. I recognize your name. If I’m not mistaken you’re related to Xanthus.”
“I am,” he said, wondering what game the half-elf was playing.
“Jazzlyn came for my help. She’s afraid her cousin is in danger and—”
“No!”
The denial was out before Kirill could stop it. And in its wake came the cooling of his soon-to-be mate’s scent.
A single glance at her expression communicated his error clearly. Determination and distance had replaced desire. A rigid posture had replaced an accepting one.
By the Great Shared Ancestor, despite the Drui’s healing, he was still cursed when it came to his mate! But at least he understood the half-elf’s game now. She knew he intended to whisk Jazzlyn back to the dragon realm immediately and sought to ease the way by reducing his mate’s anxiety.
A small flame of appreciation sprang to life in Kirill’s chest. No wonder Marika was so fond of Aislinn.
“I meant only that such a state of affairs can’t be allowed,” he said, forcing an unnatural calmness into his voice even though the words tasted like ash. “I will ensure this cousin is located and made safe.”
There, that should take care of the matter, he thought with great satisfaction. What good were treasure and the reworking of his agreement about Marika’s returning to this realm if they couldn’t both be put to use? Xanthus and Tallis could easily see to this matter on his behalf.
Aislinn’s smile warned him. It plainly said the old days and old ways were gone.
He ignored it only to be forced into swallowing his fire again when Jazzlyn said, “If Aislinn is able to tell me where Carolyn is, I wouldn’t mind your going with me just in case. But finding my cousin is my responsibility.”
Kirill saw red and wondered if it were possible for a dragon to spontaneously combust when in a human form. Perhaps he’d investigate it if he survived this newest ordeal.
His throat closed on a roar, a flame, and what he wanted to say. Had it been possible, he would have surrendered every gem, coin and book he possessed just to get Jazzlyn alone, mated, and safely ensconced in his lair.
He took a deep breath. This quest to find her cousin could be used to his advantage.
In ancient times, the vast majority of human females died of fright when taken by dragons. Traveling between realms might be equally shocking. The more time he spent with her here, the easier her transition would be, and beyond that, before they left he wante
d her to drink from the Dragon’s Cup.
After centuries of waiting, he was with her now. He didn’t doubt his ability to keep her safe.
Kirill took Jazzlyn’s hand in his, shuddering in ecstasy at the contact. Calmness settled into him as he felt an answering ripple of pleasure pass through her. “Allow me to assist you. I find the thought of you in danger unbearable.”
Saying no was beyond Jazzlyn. Her comment about allowing him to go with her to find Carolyn had come out of nowhere, passing through her lips and shocking her to her core.
She dragged her gaze away from him, hyperaware that he continued to hold her hand. “I’m not sure how your gift works,” she said to Aislinn. “I have a picture of Carolyn if that helps.”
“Did she handle it?”
Jazzlyn shook her head. “Casually, maybe. I’m not sure of even that. My aunt took the picture, but she always gets double prints.”
“Can you get something that belongs to Carolyn? Something she cares about? Items with sentimental value work best, but in a pinch, favorite items are better than nothing.”
Jazzlyn worried her bottom lip as she mentally walked through her aunt’s house. Except for the photo albums chronicling Carolyn’s childhood, she was fairly certain her aunt didn’t have anything her cousin would value.
“I’ll have to go back to Caro’s apartment,” Jazzlyn said, feeling her chest tighten with the prospect of confronting Deana again. “She shares it. When I was there earlier, her apartment mate wouldn’t let me through the front door, much less into my cousin’s room in order to search for clues about where Caro was or who she was with.”
“She will not deny me,” Kirill said.
The purring confidence in his voice was a warm tongue lapping Jazzlyn’s swollen folds and sending a tremor of need upward, through her clit and nipples before sliding down her arm and into the hand Kirill held.
Flared nostrils and taut features told her he’d felt it. Heated eyes echoed his words but turned them into a sensual promise to Jazzlyn. You will not deny me.
Sudden nervousness made her try to extricate her hand from his. He wouldn’t allow it.
“It’s settled then,” Aislinn said, plucking a business card from a holder on the counter and writing a phone number on the back of it before handing it to Jazzlyn. “Call me when you’ve got something of Carolyn’s. If I’m not here at the shop, you can reach me on my cell.”
Jazzlyn slipped the card into her skirt pocket. For the first time since Caro was a no-show at the birthday party, some of the worry slid off Jazzlyn’s shoulders.
Kirill’s thumb brushed across her knuckles. “Shall we go?”
There was only one answer. She cast a quick glance at the mirror with its clear heartmate stones and said, “Yes.”
Chapter Three
A curse on human technology, Kirill thought, fighting the urge to dig his fingers into his seat cushion as Jazzlyn swung from behind a monstrosity of a truck and raced to pass it as a car in the distance sped toward them.
How did those of his kind tolerate living in this realm? It wasn’t natural to travel surrounded by steel instead of on wings. Nor was it natural to be bombarded by constant noise and unceasing movement.
He’d thought it bad when humans gave up their crossbows for guns, but this was horrendous! This was—
Kirill closed his eyes as Jazzlyn’s car lurched into place in front of the truck then veered sharply onto an off-ramp. A grunt escaped as he knocked into the door and the involuntary protest was enough to elicit a sharp comment from his soon-to-be mate.
“You should have followed in your own car if being in one with a woman driver makes you this nervous.”
By the Great Shared Ancestor, what had he done to deserve this torment?
“How much longer until we reach your cousin’s apartment?”
Apparently it was the wrong thing to say. The simple question seemed to inflame Jazzlyn further, making her shift her gaze from the road long enough to send a fiery glare at him.
His cock responded even as his stomach dove in near panic and didn’t settle until she was once again looking forward. Relief poured into him when she slowed the car further, saying, “We’re almost there.”
Kirill prided himself on having learned an important lesson when it came to dealing with Jazzlyn. He remained quiet rather than saying “good” even as every cell in his body vibrated with the word.
He could hardly wait to be out of this metal death trap, though he promised himself that if he was forced to remain in this world for any length of time, he would learn how to drive so he could take charge of the task. It was too dangerous an activity to leave to his mate. And beyond that, he could clearly see the necessity of purchasing a convertible in case he needed to incinerate any threat he couldn’t avoid by skillful driving.
Kirill relaxed further, pleased he’d come up with a contingency plan in the event Jazzlyn’s cousin couldn’t be found quickly. He turned his attention away from the road and contemplated his soon-to-be mate.
She was beautiful to him, exquisite. Her lines and curves came together in perfection, as if she’d been created by an artist, one of the old masters the humans so revered. A shiver told him she was aware of his scrutiny, and the sharp scent of her aggravation gave way to that of desire.
Her nipples pressed against the front of her blouse, begging him to lean forward and take possession of them, to touch and taste and bite. He resisted their pleading call only by forcing himself to look away.
“So what brought you to Inner Magick?” she asked, her voice husky with nerves.
A soft purr formed deep in his throat but he kept it suppressed along with images of claiming her. Soon they would be finished with this business and he would have her complete attention.
“Fate,” he answered, unwilling to give the long-dead sorcerer any credit. Then, hoping to make Jazzlyn more at ease in his company, added, “Marika, Aislinn’s assistant, is now related to me through her bond with Xanthus.”
They turned into an apartment complex. A shudder passed through Kirill at the number of individuals living in such tight confines. How did humans stand it?
The car slowed to a stop and the drone of the engine ceased. The desire to escape his claustrophobic confinement would have propelled Kirill from the car’s steely depths like prey fleeing the jaws of a predator, but the skill he was slowly acquiring when it came to dealing with his mate warned him that such an action would cause him to lose ground with her. He opened the door and eased out of the car, limiting himself to only the smallest sigh of relief.
Jazzlyn heard it. A smile twitched at the corners of her mouth. She ought to be offended, she was an excellent driver!
At no point had she gone more than ten miles over the speed limit, and even then, she’d been one of the slower cars! Still, she couldn’t seem to work up a good mad. In fact, she found his effort to calmly get out of the car strangely endearing. The man acted as though he’d never been a passenger before.
Her heart did a little flip-flop in her chest. He could have followed in his own car. She assumed it was parked close to Inner Magick. It had to count for something that he’d chosen to stay with her instead, even if sitting in the passenger seat had scared him into a silence she hadn’t worked up the nerve to break until they were almost at Caro’s apartment complex.
Liquid warmth pooled in the pit of her stomach when he took her hand as soon as she stepped onto the sidewalk. This was all such new, strange territory for her.
“My cousin’s apartment is upstairs. Her roommate’s name is Deana. There’s assigned parking in this complex. Caro’s spot is empty. Deana’s isn’t.”
“What type of work does your cousin do?” Kirill asked as they climbed the stairs.
“She’s a waitress in a high-end nightclub. When I went by, the only thing I learned was that she’s not scheduled to work until the weekend.”
“And the roommate?”
“She models. In between jobs I thin
k she also works as a waitress. She and Carolyn met while they were both working at the same club, but Deana hasn’t worked there for a while.”
“Does she know the man in your cousin’s life?”
“She claims she doesn’t. She says Caro never introduces any of her boyfriends to her.”
“Do you believe her?”
“Yes.”
On the outside Caro seemed superconfident, even competitive when it came to men, but over the years, as Jazzlyn had watched her cousin go from one disastrous relationship to another, she’d come to understand that deep down, Carolyn had never gotten over her father’s abandonment. Maybe she would have if there’d been visits and remembered birthdays, but there hadn’t been, and compounding the rejection was the knowledge that he’d moved in with a woman who had a daughter the same age as Caro.
