Master of Dragons

by Angela Knight

  “Probably,” Gawain said.

  Lark followed Kel’s gaze to the dance floor, where Dominic was spinning Nineva into a practiced turn. “Ahh. Well, in that case, I’ll give you two some privacy.” She rose and glided away, her emerald dress swirling around her long thighs.

  Kel barely noticed, too busy glowering at Dominic and Nineva. “Fair fight or not, Bonhomme needs his teeth knocked in.”

  “Uh huh.” Gawain hooked a brawny arm across the back of the booth. “You do realize you’re breathing smoke?”

  He was right. Twin sparkling plumes of pure rage streamed from Kel’s nostrils. He made an effort to regain control before he did something he’d regret.

  Enjoy, but regret. “I never liked that son of a bitch.”

  Bonhomme caught Nineva’s hand and pulled her close.

  “He does love to stir up trouble when he sees an opportunity.” Gawain’s green eyes were cool and curious on his face. “I’m just surprised he sees one in you. You’ve never gotten bent out of shape about a woman before.”

  “She’s not a woman,” Kel growled. “She’s a princess of the Sidhe, a professional martyr, and the only hope we’ve got of stopping the Dark Ones.”

  “A professional martyr?”

  Kel rubbed a thumb between his aching brows as Dominic swooped Nineva into a dip. She was laughing. “Yeah.” He ground his teeth and fought the impulse to stalk onto the dance floor and jerk her away from the too-handsome vampire. “There’s this prophecy. It’s not helping.”

  “What kind of prophecy?”

  “The kind that says I’m going to incinerate her.”

  “What?”

  Grimly, Kel related the story. “Nineva’s been having nightmares about it for years,” he concluded. “In fact, she had one earlier tonight, which is why I brought her here to begin with. I was hoping to distract her.” He watched her cling to Bonhomme, giggling as the vampire tangoed her around the dance floor with professional skill. “It seems to be working.”

  “Sounds like you should cut your losses and join Tristan and Clare for that threesome.”

  Kel snorted. “As somebody’s already noted, Tristan’s not my type. Besides, I’ve still got to power Nineva’s goddess for her.”

  “Who died and made you the Energizer Bunny?”

  Kel’s explanation made him whistle. “So basically,” Gawain said when he finished, “you’ve got a licence to have all the sex you want. And she couldn’t go home with Bonhomme if she wanted to, because he’s not a dragon.”

  “Somehow I don’t find that comforting.” Nineva and Dominic had segued into something slow and seductive, with plenty of pelvic contact. The vampire seemed to be whispering something in her ear.

  “Yeah, you’ve got it bad.” Gawain watched him with equal parts amusement and sympathy.

  Kel shrugged, pretending unconcern. “So I’ve got a little crush. It’s not as if dragons mate for life. I doubt I’m even capable of love.”

  “That’s the biggest pile of horseshit I’ve ever heard.”

  He blinked, startled by his friend’s savage tone.

  “We were linked for fifteen centuries, Gecko,” Gawain said roughly. “I know exactly what you’re capable of.”

  “She doesn’t trust me, ’Wain.” The words came out more naked than he’d intended.

  “She will.” Gawain’s smile was knowing. “You’re a trustworthy kind of guy.”

  Dominic Bonhomme was handsome, charming, and seductive, with warm dark eyes and a sexy Italian accent that gave his vowels a faint slur. He danced with an offhand skill, hips rolling to the sensual beat of the music.

  But Nineva’s gaze kept straying to Kel’s strong profile as he talked to Gawain, his expression intense.

  “Am I boring you?” Dominic breathed in her ear. Nuzzling her neck, he added, “I certainly hope not. You smell delicious.”

  Given that he was a vampire, Nineva wondered if he meant that literally. She braced her hands against his shoulders and pushed him back to a more comfortable distance. “Ah—thanks.”

  “I’ve always wanted to taste a pretty Sidhe girl,” he purred. “Would you like to go home with me?”

  Nineva stiffened. “No, I would not.”

  “But just think how jealous it would make your dragon.”

  “He’s not my dragon. And even if he was, I don’t play games like that.”

  He lifted a dark brow. “You did agree to dance with me.”

  “And I shouldn’t have.”

  “No.” Dominic flashed white fangs. “You really shouldn’t have.”

  She glowered at him. “He pissed me off.”

  “I know. Which is interesting, don’t you think? Considering he was hardly to blame for Clare’s tipsy behavior. You’re a bit touchy about a man you’ve barely known for a week.” Correctly interpreting her surprise, his smile widened. “Word spreads fast in Avalon.”

  Nineva stared, realizing he’d been playing her to make a point. “You manipulated me.”

  He laughed. “Darling, it’s what I do.” His fingers brushed her cheek, cool and taunting. “And I’m very good at what I do.”

  “Kiss off.” She turned her back on him and stalked from the dance floor. Her gaze fell on Kel, who still sat sprawled in the booth with Gawain. A trace of smoke drifted from his nose, and his gaze was brooding as he swigged his beer.

  Shame made Nineva wince. She’d acted just like every jealous woman who’d ever made a fool of herself in every bar where Nineva had ever worked. She’d always harbored a certain contempt for those women. Finding herself guilty of the same behavior was galling.

  She knew she owed Kel an apology—but not just yet. She wasn’t up to facing him right now.

  Instead, Nineva veered away and headed for one of the French doors that led outside, knowing she was being cowardly even as she pushed it open.

  The air was cold and bracing, cooling the sweat on her skin and the heat on her cheeks. She walked across the brick porch to lean on the wrought iron railing that encircled it.

  Brooding, Nineva stared out into the starlit night. A Scottish castle rose over the trees, moonlight painting its stone battlements. Magic flared inside one of its gothic windows, multicolored sparks in the darkness.

  She wasn’t used to feeling petty. Probably because nobody had ever touched her deeply enough to inspire that kind of behavior.

  “You look like you could use a margarita.” A petite brunette appeared at her elbow and handed her a glass rimmed in salt.

  Recognizing Gawain’s wife, Nineva gave her a smile. “Thanks, Lark.”

  The Maja toasted her with her own icy drink. “My pleasure.” She took a sip. “By the way, just for the record—if you hurt Kel, I’m going to break both your legs.”

  Nineva blinked at her over the glass, startled. Though Lark’s tone was deceptively pleasant, the hard glint in her eyes revealed she meant every word of the threat. “I have no intention of hurting Kel.”

  “Good.” The Maja licked at the rim of salt. “He’s a good friend and a hero, and he deserves better than to get his heart handed to him by some fairy who doesn’t give a damn.”

  Nineva ground her teeth. After Dominic Bonhomme, she was not in the mood for this. “Where the hell do you get off?”

  “I watched him watch you dance with Dominic. I don’t like seeing that kind of pain in a friend’s eyes.”

  “You’re imagining things. We’ve barely known each other a week.”

  Lark laughed. “With people who live on the edge like we do, a week is just enough time to get somebody seriously hurt.”

  “I have no intention of hurting anybody.” Nineva tossed her glass over the rail and stalked away as it shattered against a tree trunk. The witch was lucky she wasn’t wearing it. “Anyway, Kel’s a lot more likely to do the hurting.”

  The Maja shook her head. “If you think that, you really are an idiot.”

  Kel spotted Nineva crossing the dance floor like an infuriated queen. He rose
to stride after her, but before he could catch up, a delicate hand grabbed his arm.

  “Let her go,” Lark said, sounding a bit self-satisfied. “I told her a couple of home truths she needed to hear, and she needs time to digest.”

  Kel glowered at her. “Why the hell did you stick your oar in this?”

  “Because you’re my friend, dammit, and I hate to see you this miserable.” She sighed. “Okay, maybe I should have kept my mouth shut, but she pissed me off. Anyway, I don’t think she’s good enough for you.”

  “Lark, she saved Llyr’s queen and baby—and risked her own life to do it.”

  “So she’s got guts. She still has her head up her butt.”

  “Lark, drop it,” Gawain said, walking up behind them. “He’s a big dragon. He can take care of himself.”

  “Glad you noticed.” Kel rubbed his brow and decided, reluctantly, that Lark was probably right on at least one point: it would be smart to give Nineva time to cool down. Besides, after watching her dance with Bonhomme, he wasn’t exactly in the mood to chase her. “I need another beer.” He headed for the bar.

  Nineva’s high heels clicked on the cobblestones in a furious staccato. The really infuriating thing was that she was more angry at herself than Lark.

  So Clare had hit on Kel. He hadn’t encouraged her—he’d seemed more embarrassed by her drunken attentions than anything else. It wasn’t as if he and Nineva had some kind of romance going. It was sex, pure and simple. And not even sex born of personal attraction. They were doing what the goddess required. That was all.

  She’d simply had no business getting jealous and flouncing off with another man. Dominic was right about that, much as it galled her to admit it.

  Mixed with Nineva’s anger was a curious hint of envy. She’d never had a friend willing to go to bat for her the way Lark had for Kel. Even Dominic had been defending him in a backhanded way, at least judging from his parting shot before she’d walked off.

  But then, nobody had ever known her well enough to know or care if she was in pain.

  Except Kel. She remembered the expression on his face when he’d held her after her nightmare—the tenderness, the sympathy. Remembered the worry on his face when he’d charged Llyr’s traitorous bodyguards to rescue her. He’d been afraid for her.

  And she also remembered the disappointment in his eyes when he’d looked across the dance floor and seen her with Dominic. Lark was right—she’d hurt him. Though they’d only been together a little more than a week, somehow they’d gotten closer than they had any business getting. Not considering the prophecy.

  This was going to be hard enough as it was without them complicating it any more. Neither of them would be able to do what they had to do if their mutual attraction got any stronger. Somehow she had to gain them both a little distance.

  If only the goddess would draw the magic faster, they could avoid getting in any deeper. Unfortunately, it seemed Semira was taking her sweet time about it.

  Nineva frowned and stopped in her tracks, watching as something shot past overhead, leaving a sparkling trail of magic in its wake.

  What she needed was a spell. Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully as she watched the trail fade away. She needed something that would feed their united magic to Semira in one tight burst. It wouldn’t even have to be particularly complicated. She could probably whip just the thing up in under an hour.

  Suddenly determined, Nineva started toward Kel’s hill in long strides. She had work to do.

  Piaras circled the clearing, his great wings beating as he watched the men who waited below in the bright sunlight of this hemisphere. He saw no sign of weapons, sensed no indication of any kind of magical trap, but he felt cautious.

  You couldn’t trust humans. Not even Sidhe, no matter what Cachamwri said.

  Still, it was a remarkable offer their leader had made in that series of magical messages. The elimination of Avalon in exchange for certain assistance in killing Llyr Galatyn? Tempting. Very tempting.

  But what assistance did this Sidhe general have in mind? It might be worth considering, if Piaras wasn’t expected to do anything his people could trace back to him. It was taboo to involve oneself in human affairs, after all.

  Piaras had begun to think that particular taboo was one that should be flaunted. The fiasco with Lord Tegid had established beyond all doubt that Avalon was a threat they could no longer afford to ignore. The Avalonian humans and their alien ways needed to be eliminated before the Dragonkind were corrupted as Tegid had been. And if the Sidhe were indeed willing to do the work with minimal involvement on Piaras’s part, so much the better.

  Deciding it was safe to land, the golden dragon set down in the clearing with his usual skill. “I have considered your offer,” he announced without preamble as the general strode forward to meet him. “But as I said, I have further questions.”

  Arralt looked up at him. “Worry not, Lord Piaras. Everything will soon be very clear indeed.”

  Kel flew through the night, drinking in the wind that blew cold in his face. The city spread out below him in all its glory, its magical lights shining like diamonds in the dark.

  He’d left the bar half an hour before, after drinking three more beers and dancing with two women who hadn’t interested him at all. He’d known he needed to fly. Needed to clear his head, drive out the anger and frustration. Remember that he was a dragon.

  Cachamwri knew, nobody else seemed to forget. Particularly not Nineva.

  Over the past eight months, he’d done everything he could to become human. He’d turned his back on Dragonkind and embraced human ways. Yet it was time to face the fact that he wasn’t human and never would be, no matter what form he assumed. Even with all his magic, he couldn’t change his own basic nature.

  Just as he couldn’t make Nineva feel anything for him except distrust. Oh, she desired him sexually. She was a sensual woman, and he was very good at human sex, thanks to his centuries observing Gawain at work. But she’d spent too many years having nightmares, too many years hiding from those who wanted to kill her. Maybe one day she’d want to reach out to a man, learn to love. But it sure as hell wouldn’t be him.

  Maybe he’d made a mistake turning away from Dragonkind. Yes, they were bigoted when it came to humans, and yes, they’d turned their collective backs on him when he’d needed them most. True, they did view any new idea with deep suspicion, especially if it came from him. But they were still his people. They knew what it was to soar against the sky and breathe magic in long, glowing plumes, to mate in midair and watch the small miracle of a dragon egg hatching.

  Maybe it was time he went home.

  But not yet. Kel sighed, knowing he still had responsibilities to Arthur, Nineva, and the Magekind. They needed to find Grim and the Sword of Semira, so he had to build the goddess’s power until Nineva could make contact. Which meant having sex until her bond with Semira strengthened.

  But Kel didn’t have to keep wishing for something he wasn’t going to get. He didn’t have to set himself up for more pain.

  So he was infatuated with Nineva. It wasn’t the end of the world. He’d get over her. All he had to do was keep reminding himself that theirs was a purely practical partnership. Fuck her and forget her.

  After all, that’s what dragons did.

  Spotting his hill, Kel narrowed his eyes with sudden determination. He might as well get started now.

  He spiraled downward toward the cave opening he’d created for his dragon form, spread his wings to brake, and came in for a neat landing. His claws scraped on the stone, and the rustle of his wings folding seemed to fill the landing cavern.

  Otherwise it was dark. Empty.

  Which only made sense—did he expect her to wait for him in a diaphanous nightie?

  With a snort of disgust at himself, Kel summoned his magic and shifted form. Human again, he rolled his shoulders and headed for the human-sized doorway that led to the human-sized stairs. He always felt so much less in the first few
minutes of a shift.

  Maybe there was a lesson there.

  His boots clattered on the stone steps as he made for the second floor and his room. He hoped she was there. And not, say, off with Dominic Bonhomme.

  But no. Dominic couldn’t power the goddess, and if there was one thing he could say about Nineva, she did her duty. No matter what it might cost her.

  Kel frowned, hoping she wasn’t asleep and having another one of those nightmares. The look in her eyes in those last seconds before she fully woke wrung his heart every time. He hated to think of her experiencing that kind of fear without him there to comfort her.

  Which only goes to prove I’m an idiot.

  Despite that thought, his heart beat a little faster when he reached the door to his room. He swung it open…

  She was waiting.

  TWELVE

  Nineva held up a hand for silence as she murmured a chant in some Sidhe language he didn’t recognize. Kel stopped in surprise.

  She was dressed in a long gown of thin scarlet silk split down both sides. Only a golden belt held it together. As she paced, each step she took bared the full length of her gently muscled legs. Her blond hair fell around her shoulders like a gleaming curtain. Candles circled her, their golden glow making her pale skin look almost luminous in the dim light.

  She looked like a goddess herself.

  Feeling almost hypnotized, Kel drew closer to watch her slow, gliding progress. She’d drawn some kind of intricate circle on the stone floor in glowing lines of blue, gold, and red, marked with glyphs he couldn’t read. Each of the candles occupied swirls in the mystical pattern. They radiated magic the way a bonfire radiates heat.

  Kel frowned, examining the design as he tried to determine its intent. Though he couldn’t read the glyphs, he could feel the eroticism that seemed to vibrate through the magic.

  She’s working a sex spell to power Semira, he realized. Damn, I should have thought of that myself.

  The spell would speed things up considerably. Which was, he told himself, a good thing. The sooner they got this over with, the better.