A Dragon's Heart: (Dragons of Paragon - Book 1)

by Jan Dockter

  “The vamps will be on us before we even get there,” Oz pointed out.

  “I’ve got people cleaning up behind us,” Gavin said with a shrug. “As far as anyone on the council will know, I took Isabel out here so I could give her some personal training.”

  “So you’ll have to bring her back?” Oz raised an eyebrow. “Not sure I like that idea.”

  “I’ll have to report back within a week,” Gavin said. He shrugged as if the risks of that were unimportant. “But bringing her to you, feeding her with you after she starved herself earlier, that will work to my advantage.” Gavin smirked. “You’re going to be dead, Oz.”

  “I am?” Oz looked torn between amusement and concern.

  “How … how were you able to get him out without anyone noticing?” Isabel had assumed that there were cameras in the corridors, watching eyes to go with the intense security.

  “That is what Kalima, Harold, and Olivia are going to take care of,” Gavin said. He smoothed his hair back from his face. “There’s a record of the escape attempt, but it won’t be tied to me; it’ll look like Oz took advantage of a brief lapse in security for his chamber.”

  “So they’ll be tracking him,” Isabel said.

  “They will,” Gavin agreed. “Right up until evidence suggests that he’s been murdered.” Oz looked briefly stricken.

  “And how is it going to suggest that?” Isabel felt her stomach lurch at the look on the angel’s face.

  “I will be bringing his wings to the council,” Gavin said steadily. Isabel’s eyes widened.

  “What?!” she looked at Oz. “You’re willing to …”

  “They grow back,” Oz said. He smiled. “It’s one of the most painful things an angel can go through, but they grow back.”

  “Typically, the only time a vampire is able to get an angel’s wings to present to the council as evidence is when they’ve killed that angel,” Gavin explained. “As you might have noticed, angels and vampires don’t tend to cooperate. The idea that Oz would willingly give up his wings in order to fake his own death won’t occur to anyone.” Isabel considered that.

  “It might occur to Portia,” Isabel said.

  “Portia’s not likely to be in a position to argue the point,” Gavin said. His voice chilled Isabel almost to the bone.

  “Why not?” Oz sounded almost eager. “What has happened to our dear Portia?”

  “I informed the council that she was attempting to interfere with my plan to train Isabel myself,” Gavin said. “As punishment, they’ve taken her fangs, and she was exposed to a UV lamp for twenty minutes. She should be sufficiently incapacitated not to bother anyone for at least a month.” There was grim satisfaction in Gavin’s smile, and for the first time, Isabel wondered if her initial impression of him – at least, the impression that she remembered – was at all accurate. Was he any better than the other vampires?

  “Couldn’t have happened to a more deserving person,” Oz said. Isabel looked at him in shock. “Who do you think was in charge of torturing me, Isabel?”

  “I’m just …” she shrugged. “I guess I’m not fully transformed yet. Torturing anyone seems …”

  “She isn’t tortured,” Gavin said. “Just punished. As she should be. She would have tortured you.” Gavin looked through the heavily smoked glass of the window. “We’re not being followed. Good.” He looked at Oz and smiled slightly. “At least you’ll have our girl here to help you get through the pain.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  The safe house looked almost as ornate as the castle they had left. As Isabel followed Oz and Gavin out of the car, she wondered once again whose side she was on – whose side anyone was on, in the complicated mess her life had become. The sky was lightening slightly in the east, and Gavin looked anxious to get inside of the building the car had taken them to. Does sunlight actually kill them, or is it just bad for them?

  The door opened as they approached, and Isabel felt a shock of recognition, but as she looked more intently at the woman standing at the entry to the building, Isabel thought she had never seen her before in her life. “She’s a succubus, like you,” Oz told her. “Free – both of her makers killed.”

  “Get inside,” the woman said. As Isabel passed her, she realized that the fact that the woman was another succubus was exactly what had caused her sense of recognition. The woman’s blonde hair cascaded in perfect waves to her waist, and her ripe – almost overripe – body strained at the fabric of her clothes. Her ice-blue eyes glowed with a kind of supernatural heat, and her lips curled in such a way that Isabel could well imagine that any man who saw her would immediately picture himself pushing his cock between them.

  Gavin and Oz both seemed to shudder slightly as they passed the woman, and Isabel was pleased to see that the magic – which she couldn’t use on her two makers – wasn’t something to which they were completely immune. She remembered Gavin telling her that with enough time spent in close quarters with a succubus, even strong vampires and angels would become susceptible to their abilities; maybe that was why they couldn’t stay at the safe house for very long.

  “There’s a light-tight room at the end of the hallway,” the woman told Gavin. “The rest of the house is more or less normal,” she added to Oz and Isabel. The succubus smiled at Isabel. “Just finishing up your transition, aren’t you?” Isabel nodded.

  “I think I’m almost there,” she admitted.

  “Starting to get the little psychic vibes?” The woman looked at her intently. Hear this? Isabel’s eyes widened.

  “Wait, I can read minds?” The woman chuckled. Gavin left them, hurrying towards the light-tight room, and the succubus led Isabel and Oz towards a small, elegantly decorated living room.

  “In a limited capacity,” the woman told her. “Mostly, you’ll be able to read – from a man – exactly what their deepest desire is. You’ll get it like a feeling, or like a craving. You’ll want nothing more than to suck them off, or hold your ankles while they plow you. But over time, it’ll become clearer, especially if you spend a lot of time around other super naturals like your angelic maker, here.”

  “So when …” Isabel looked at Oz, feeling almost suspicious. “When you asked me what I wanted …”

  “He was testing you, in more than one way,” the succubus said. “I made tea if you’d like it.” Isabel looked at the woman up and down, wondering.

  “What’s your name? And how are you able to live like this?” The woman laughed and sat down.

  “My name is Moira,” the blonde said. “And as to how I’m able to live like this, well, that much should be obvious.” Isabel shook her head.

  “It isn’t,” she told Moira.

  “Think about it for a moment,” Moira suggested. “I can give men everything they want – their deepest desires – and, as I’m sure you’ve already noticed, I can also convince them to pay whatever I want for it.” Moira smiled. “So I’ve made a tidy little fortune.”

  “But how are you safe from the vampires?” Isabel looked at Oz; he hadn’t given her any indication in their time together that she would be able to live independently.

  “The current war between the angels – and some of the other supes – and the vampire council is pretty new,” Moira said. “I became a succubus about …” she frowned, lost in thought. “Four hundred years ago. By the time the vampires tried to round me up, it was pretty easy to show them that they couldn’t contain me.”

  “They couldn’t?” Moira shook her head.

  “The longer you’re a succubus, the more you’ll be able to control your abilities,” Moira said. “And the more powerful they become.” Isabel shot an irritable glance at Oz, who hadn’t specifically told her that. “On the other hand, the hunger grows, at least for the first two hundred or so years,” Moira added.

  “It grows?”

  “At the peak of my hunger, I worked in a brothel and serviced twenty men per night on a regular basis,” Moira told her. She laughed, almost to herself. �
��Back then it was the only way I could reasonably feed as much as I needed to. Now, of course, there are other options.” She looked pointedly at Oz. “I have to admit, I envy you your makers.”

  “Did the vampires kill your makers, or something else?” Moira grimaced.

  “They killed my angel,” she replied. “Darius …” she shook her head. “He was always a risk-taker, always impulsive. Someone figured out what he was and took him out.” Moira looked at Oz again. “Are you sure you’re fully recovered from your ordeal?”

  “As recovered as I need to be,” Oz said, smiling. “Isabel’s a prodigy.”

  “So it would seem,” Moira said. “We have another twelve hours or so before Gavin can come out. Why don’t the two of you relax a bit?” She rose to her feet. “I have a client I need to get to.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Isabel stared up at the bathroom ceiling in the room Moira had given her, thinking. Oz had gone to sleep, leaving her alone, and it was still hours until Gavin would wake up; but Isabel could already feel the hunger beginning to stir deep down in her body, the need mingled with desire that drove her feedings.

  She pushed the prodding need out of her mind and tried to think. So much had happened in a week that Isabel wasn’t entirely sure that all of it was even real.

  Isabel absently scrubbed at her limbs, shifting in the warm, scented water of the bathtub. Obviously, Moira’s story at least confirmed that the vampire council wanted to go public, and that they were pulling in succubi as some part of the plan to that end. The angels seemed to be – predictably – the “good guys,” but Isabel thought that the common perception of angels was less than fully accurate. She shivered, remembering the rapt, intent look on Oz’s face as Gavin had taken her, the comments that the two men had exchanged about how easily they could make her do whatever they wanted for their attentions.

  But how do I know there aren’t good reasons for the vampire council to want what it wants? Away from the direct influence of the two men, Isabel was able to question their motivation. Obviously, Gavin wasn’t merely interested in keeping her from being tortured and manipulated into supporting and promoting the vampire agenda of going public; he had hinted more than once that he wanted her personally.

  Isabel heard movement, and turned her head to see Oz walk into the bathroom. “Gavin will be up soon,” Oz told her.

  “How long have I been in this bathtub?” Isabel sat up and shivered as the water sluiced down her body, caressing her nipples on its way down. Everything had become even more sensitive, and she thought – somewhat grimly – that she could probably, under the right circumstances, get off even from literal torture, if the person doing it to her was a man. Don’t even think like that. You’re going to be fine.

  “Gavin’s an early riser,” Oz said. “As long as he avoids the windows, he’ll be able to leave the room. It’s sunrise and midday that the vampires really need to stay out of; sunset isn’t as potent.”

  “Everything is so complicated,” Isabel said, knowing that she was whining and not caring.

  “We’re moving on to Paris, tomorrow,” Oz told her. “I’ve made arrangements. Gavin will have to stay behind. He’ll meet with us after he convinces the council that I’m dead.” Oz looked her over slowly, and Isabel could sense the stirrings of desire from the angel.

  “Is it really that painful?” Isabel pressed her lips together, cringing at the thought of Oz losing his wings. “You know …”

  “Having my wings ripped off? You bet your perfect little ass it’s painful,” Oz said. “It’s the most acutely painful thing an angel can go through.”

  “That ... that sounds horrific,” Isabel said. She rose to her feet, and smiled to herself at Oz’s lustful gaze on her body.

  “Come here,” Oz said firmly. Isabel stepped quickly out of the bath tub and nearly slipped, but caught herself instinctively, before closing the distance between herself and Oz. Oz pulled her onto his lap, reaching for a towel and wrapping it around her. “Even if you weren’t mine, I would have had a hard time letting anyone else have you,” Oz told her.

  “Why is that?” Oz grinned, pressing a delicate kiss to the spot where her neck and shoulder met as his hands moved over her body, drying her and caressing her all at once.

  “I chose you for a reason that night, and it had nothing to do with making a succubus,” Oz said. “Even before you were supernaturally endowed, you were amazing.” His hands cupped her breasts and Isabel moaned softly. “You wanted to give yourself up, to be loved – or at least lusted after – with hunger as deep as someone’s soul.”

  “I don’t know about all that,” Isabel said, feeling defensive in spite of the current of heat running through her spine, distracting her from human thoughts.

  “You don’t remember, do you?” Oz playfully nipped her shoulder – it didn’t have the dangerous feeling of Gavin’s sharp teeth, but it sent a thrill through her nonetheless. “I told you that you could only come when I said, and you …” Oz chuckled. “Your reaction to that was to try and make me come faster, so I wouldn’t be able to deny you.” Oz turned her around and kissed her hungrily on the lips, his hands holding her body tightly to his. “It was only a matter of time before someone chose you for this.”

  “It was?” Isabel could feel the hardening ridge of Oz’s cock through his jeans.

  “With the war going on, with vampires following angels to turn their conquests ... another angel would have found you, laid you, and another vampire would have completed the process. You’re too good a catch to have gone unnoticed for much longer.”

  “Did you know it was going to happen?” Oz shook his head.

  “Gavin kept himself pretty well concealed,” Oz told her. “I didn’t even smell him that night when you left. I saw him in the club, of course, but I thought he’d gone after another angel, another girl.” He rocked his hips against hers, and Isabel bit her bottom lip, breathing in sharply at the jolt of lust the feeling of his cock gave her, even through the tough fabric of his jeans.

  “So …” Isabel shook her head, trying to clear it. “You just ... chose me?”

  “I chose you,” Oz said. “And I’d choose you again in a heartbeat.” He smiled against her lips.

  “So would I.” Isabel started and looked over her shoulder at the direction of the voice. Gavin stood in the bathroom door, watching her and Oz intently. He had dressed in a new suit, and looked as gorgeous as ever. Isabel felt the hunger within her growing; she gritted her teeth, almost annoyed at the predictable surge of need, the images that flickered through her head of the two men taking her at once. “Don’t feed her just yet, Oz,” Gavin said. “You’ll need her abilities.”

  “You just want to feed on her,” Oz said dismissively.

  “I need my strength,” Gavin said, shrugging. “It’s not easy ripping the wings off an angel.”

  “You’re strong enough,” Oz told the vampire.

  “Do you have to rip them?” Isabel shuddered at the thought. Both Gavin and Oz nodded.

  “If they’re cut, it might open up questions,” Gavin said.

  “Not to mention he’d need to bleed himself a dozen times to hack them off with any blade,” Oz added. “Ripping them off makes more sense, as painful as it’s bound to be.”

  “But they’ll grow back,” Isabel said, making it almost a question. Both men nodded again.

  “After about a week,” Oz told her. “It takes that long for them to grow back.” He made a face, rising to his feet and carefully putting Isabel down. The towel fell away from her body and Isabel caught the brief gleam of interest in Gavin’s eyes. “In the meantime, my ability to heal others will be pretty severely diminished.”

  “So don’t let anyone get hurt around you,” Isabel said.

  “You’ve got the tickets booked?” Oz nodded.

  “They weren’t able to freeze my alternate accounts,” Oz told the vampire. “Isabel and I will be in Paris by tomorrow night.”

  “I’ll mee
t you there by the end of the week,” Gavin said. “I’ve given Sophia the codes.” Isabel once more felt like she was profoundly out of her depth, but decided that – all things considered – it could be worse. Definitely worth seeing if I can talk to Moira more before we go.

  “Okay then,” Oz said. “Isabel, you’ll probably want to stay out of the room until Gavin comes out with my wings.” Isabel’s stomach twisted inside of her, and she felt her eyes stinging with tears.

  Isabel followed the two men out of the bathroom. “Go into the living room, Isabel,” Gavin told her sharply. Isabel’s feet took her in that direction, and cold chills worked through her, negating any hunger she might have felt moments before. She heard the two men walking in the direction of Gavin’s room, and closed her eyes.