Taken by a Dragon

by Felicity Heaton

  He effortlessly pressed down and pinned Loke’s hands to his chest.

  Anais wished she was as strong as a five thousand year old elf prince.

  “We will move him away from here.” Loren took Loke’s arms from her and held them pinned in place.

  “To Hell?” Anais looked from Loke to Loren when the elf didn’t answer. The grave look on his face unsettled her. “What’s wrong?”

  “We cannot teleport him straight to Hell. He is not strong enough to survive travelling such a vast distance.”

  Her blood chilled. “We have to take him home.”

  Loren reached out to touch her and she leaned back, evading him. She paused and realised with dismay that he could take his hands away from Loke because he had passed out again. Her heart seized in her chest and she couldn’t stop herself from lowering her hand and brushing the tangled strands of blue hair from Loke’s damp forehead. He had to be alright. He couldn’t die. She didn’t think she could live with herself if she lost him.

  It was all her fault.

  But what she had done wasn’t the only reason her heart felt close to breaking.

  She couldn’t lose the man she loved with all of that heart.

  Understanding dawned in the elf prince’s purple eyes, a look that cut her and made her want to glance away. “It is too dangerous. He must regain some strength or we shall put his life in danger—”

  “His life is in danger here,” Anais interjected. “Being in this realm is the thing that is killing him.”

  “If you would allow me to finish.” Loren’s calm tone didn’t hide the fierce glimmer of irritation that shone in his eyes and she nodded, holding her tongue and giving him a chance to speak. “We will take him somewhere safe in this world, very close to here, and there I will use what knowledge I have of his kind to assist you in helping him.”

  “Helping him how?” Anais stared at the elf, finding it hard to believe that it was possible to help Loke without taking him back to Hell where he belonged.

  Loren settled his hand on her shoulder. “Dragons draw energy from nature and they can draw it from everything created by nature, especially if that thing is born of this realm… I propose to help you give some of your energy… your life… to him.”

  Anais lowered her gaze to Loke, her eyebrows pinned high on her forehead as she absorbed what Loren had said. Was it possible? Could she sacrifice part of herself for his sake and give him the strength to survive the teleport to Hell?

  “You will agree to it?”

  She nodded without even needing to think about it. “If I can help him, I will, no matter how much of my life I have to give to him.”

  “Anais,” Sable started and she silenced her by shaking her head.

  “I’m set on this. He needs me and I have to make things right. It’s my fault he’s in this situation… but more than that… I’m doing it because I love him.” She lifted her gaze to meet Sable’s.

  Sable’s golden eyes softened and she nodded.

  Loren rose to his feet in one fluid movement and had Loke slung over his shoulder with the effortless grace she was coming to associate with elves. He was powerful and shared a deep connection with nature, and if anyone could help her save Loke, it was him. She was going to owe him big time if he pulled this off and the way he smiled at her said that he knew it.

  That smile eased her heart too, because it spoke of his confidence. He was certain that what he had proposed was possible and that it would save Loke.

  “Where can we take him that will be safe?” Anais looked between Sable and Thorne, and finally at Loren.

  He had suggested moving Loke to a safe location nearby, so she presumed he had one in mind.

  “Where else would you take a shifter?” Loren’s smile widened.

  It was Sable who answered that question.

  “Underworld.”

  CHAPTER 24

  It turned out that Underworld was a nightclub run by a very gruff jaguar shifter called Kyter. He had opened the black steel door with a disgruntled look on his handsome face and had pinned each of them with a glare, his golden eyes dark with it and warning that the disturbance wasn’t a welcomed one.

  Kyter yawned as he scrubbed a hand through his sandy hair, the action raising the baggy dark grey tee he wore and flashing a hint of toned stomach muscles between the hem of it and his loose grey sweats.

  Anais couldn’t blame him for being annoyed. It was three in the morning after all, and he had probably only just gotten to sleep after closing the club for the night.

  Kyter motioned for them to come in and Loren led the way, carrying Loke into the dimly lit expansive room.

  Anais wrinkled her nose at the smell of booze, too much perfume, and undertones of sweat. She caught Kyter watching her and smiled politely, hoping he hadn’t noticed her reaction.

  “You think it reeks? Try being a shifter with a sensitive nose,” he grunted and shut the door.

  It slammed and the sound echoed around the empty nightclub. It was strange being in a nightclub after hours. Most of the lights were off, but the coloured ones above the bar still rotated, their whirr the only sound in the silent room. It felt as if a vital piece of Underworld was missing and all that was left in its place was a ghost of a nightclub.

  Loren carefully laid Loke down on the long black bar to her right and she moved to catch up with him, taking long strides into the heart of the club. She halted near Loke and stared down at him, her heart throbbing in her chest as she took in how pale he was now and the beads of sweat that dotted his brow.

  “You do know dragons can’t be in this realm?” Kyter said at her elbow and peered over her at Loke. “It’s kinda detrimental to their health.”

  “We know. I just need to get him strong enough and then we’re taking him back to Hell.” Anais looked over her shoulder at the sandy-haired jaguar.

  His eyes took on the same knowing look as Loren had had back at Archangel. “He your mate?”

  A shiver ran through her and she stared blankly at Kyter as those words crashed over her. Was he? She wasn’t sure and she had no way of telling. Was it even possible? She looked at Sable where the black-haired huntress stood beside her imposing demon mate. Thorne had his arm slung around her shoulders, holding her tucked close to his side, and had rested his chin on top of her head, his concerned red gaze on Loke.

  It was possible.

  Sable had fallen in love with Thorne and was his mate.

  Anais looked at Loren as he checked Loke over. Olivia had fallen in love with Loren and was his mate.

  She settled her gaze on Loke. There was every chance that she was his mate. Did he know? She wanted him to wake so she could ask him, but reminded herself that she had more important matters that required her attention. She could ask him later, when she had saved his life.

  Loren gestured for her to move closer. “The process will be quite simple, but it might hurt and it will require all of your focus.”

  She nodded and came up beside him. He took hold of her hands and placed one on Loke’s bare chest over his heart and the other on his forehead. It was hot beneath her palm and his heart thudded slowly against her other one. She closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath to steady herself and drive away some of her fear. Loke would be fine again soon, and then she had some serious apologising to do.

  Loren placed his hand on the back of her neck and she tensed, her shoulders jumping up. “I apologise. I require a connection to both of you and it requires bare skin.”

  She nodded and tried to relax, but it was difficult with Loren’s hand against her neck. She kept wanting to tense or wriggle free of his grip. It felt as if he was going to snap her neck or throttle her, and the voice at the back of her mind kept chanting how easy it would be for him to do either of those things. He was extremely powerful. One swift jerk of his hand and it would be lights out for her. Permanently.

  She opened her eyes and settled them on Loke’s face, using the sight of him to drive awareness
of Loren’s hand on her neck from her mind.

  Loren placed his other hand on Loke’s chest next to hers. “Focus on him and the thought of transferring some of your energy into him.”

  It sounded ridiculous, but she did as he instructed. The first few minutes ticked by slowly, her head filling with too many thoughts, cluttering it and making it impossible for her to focus as Loren needed. He spoke quietly to her, guiding and soothing her, encouraging her when she needed it and praising her whenever he felt the connection between the three of them begin to open.

  She fell into a sort of trance after that, a blankness where only Loke and Loren existed, and she could almost feel her strength flowing from her and into Loke. He cooled beneath her palms and his heartbeat began to level out. It was working.

  Her trance shattered as loud voices filled the silent room.

  She whipped her head around and caught sight of the elves who had been at the complex.

  The ones who had killed her fellow hunters.

  Loren’s hand tensed against her neck. “Ignore them. Thorne and Sable will deal with them.”

  She nodded and went back to focusing on Loke as Thorne and Sable moved off to intercept the two elves and the silver-haired male they had brought with them.

  Another, larger silver-haired male wearing only pale grey sweats came out from the back of the club, shattering her focus again. Her gaze tracked him as he made a beeline for the man who looked similar to him, his pale eyes filled with incredulity.

  Kyter moved between Thorne and Sable, and the trio who had entered his club unannounced, blocking their path. “I have a no fighting policy in this club, as you’re well aware. At least until I know what the fuck they want.”

  Sable looked as if she wanted to ignore Kyter and keep heading towards the three men. The big silver-haired male reached them and the slighter man who looked like him blew out his breath and sucked down another.

  “Brother.” That word leaving his lips had Kyter looking over his shoulder at the man.

  “You know them, Cavanaugh?” he said to the bigger man.

  The one called Cavanaugh nodded. “I like to think I knew one of them anyway… it’s been a while since we’ve seen each other. I might be wrong.”

  The other man looked away and the two elves with him shifted further apart, forming what looked like a very offensive line to Anais. They were prepared to fight, despite Kyter’s announcement that he didn’t condone violence in his club.

  “Focus,” Loren whispered behind her and she dragged her gaze back to Loke and fixed it on him.

  The sensation of her life flowing from her started again and she struggled to tune out everyone as they all began talking at once. Her side argued with the elves about what they had done, and Cavanaugh argued with them about something else entirely.

  Anais took another deep breath, released it slowly, and focused on her hands where they pressed against Loke’s chest and forehead.

  “That is good. Like that.” Loren’s deep voice was close to her ear and she nodded, beginning to slip back into the strange trance state.

  The door in the wall ahead of her opened again, throwing light into the dim room.

  “Hartt?” The soft female voice caused silence to fall in the room but the tension in the air ratcheted up a thousand degrees.

  Anais glanced up at the beautiful, tall and elegant black-haired woman where she stood near the end of the bar, dressed in only a long black satin negligee.

  There was a sudden and strange sounding roar off to her left and all Hell broke loose as Kyter launched himself at one of the elves—the one who had looked as if he had wanted to stop fighting the hunters when Loren had commanded them to halt their attack.

  The male defended himself, blocking Kyter’s fierce blows and gaining some distance between them by teleporting away from the jaguar shifter. He reappeared right in front of the woman.

  It didn’t help matters.

  Kyter’s roar shattered the silence again and he was suddenly right behind the elf, his eyes glowing dangerously in the low light. The elf dodged the blow he had aimed at the back of his head and twirled to face him, a smile on his lips.

  “How the hell do you know my mate?” Kyter snarled and lashed out with his claws before the male could answer.

  Anais couldn’t help noticing he seemed to have forgotten his no-fighting policy.

  Hartt’s smile became a wicked grin as he evaded Kyter, nimbly strafing to his left and coming around behind the shifter.

  “We were engaged once.” Those four words only served to infuriate Kyter and Anais had the feeling that Hartt was doing it on purpose.

  He was intentionally provoking Kyter.

  “Kyter,” the woman said in a firm tone and he paid her no heed.

  Anais tried to focus on Loke and shut out the lover’s quarrel but it was impossible. Her calm dissipated as the noise level rose, anger and frustration growing where it had been, and she closed her eyes and sought the strength to ignore what was happening.

  She had just started to feel the connection between her and Loke opening again, when a new voice rose above the din.

  “You must stop disappearing like this, my prince.”

  Loren’s hand tensed against her neck and she squeaked at the sudden pressure. “I am sorry.”

  She wasn’t sure whether he was apologising to her or to the man now standing right in front of her, near Loke’s head. Another elf. She recognised this one. Bleu was as tall as Loren and wore the same black skin-tight armour, but his hair was dishevelled and wild, and he had a teasing edge to his gaze as he chastised Loren.

  The woman in the negligee turned wide purple eyes on him. “Bleu?”

  He looked over his shoulder in her direction, and then at the fight happening between Kyter and Hartt. Everyone had moved back to allow them space, forming a rough circle around them and dodging either left or right whenever the two of them brought their fight a little too close for comfort.

  Anais gritted her teeth and wondered if she was ever going to get some peace and quiet so she could help Loke.

  “What did you do this time to get in deep shit with assassins, Io?” Bleu said and the woman looked mortified.

  “I am not in trouble. Hartt is not here because of me.” She grimaced as Kyter landed a hard blow on Hartt’s jaw, sending him stumbling sideways.

  The elf male snarled at Kyter through bloodied fangs.

  She huffed. “Oh, that is enough.”

  She disappeared in a flash of green-purple light and reappeared between Kyter and Hartt. She shoved Hartt in the chest and he flew across the room, slammed into the far black wall with a grunt, and dropped like a sack of bricks to the floor.

  Kyter stood behind her, breathing hard, his t-shirt bearing long gashes in it.

  Bleu stared at the elf male, his gaze narrowed and troubled, as if he was trying to place him but couldn’t quite recall why he knew him.

  Hartt picked himself up off the floor and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, smearing blood over his cheek. “If I had known you would turn out so damned beautiful, I might have married you after all.”

  Bleu’s eyes widened and recognition shone in them.

  Kyter roared and hunkered down, preparing to launch himself at Hartt.

  Bleu beat him to it.

  He teleported in front of Hartt as he walked back towards the female elf and slammed his fist into the assassin’s face, sending him flying across the room again. Hartt growled and teleported, reappearing in Bleu’s face.

  Bleu didn’t even flinch.

  He grabbed Hartt by the throat and shoved him away.

  “Focus,” Loren said from behind her. “Bleu will handle this mess. Will you not, Bleu?”

  “Yes, my prince.” Bleu nodded stiffly and drew a black blade out of the air.

  Anais blew out her breath and locked her gaze on Loke again. She fell into the trance more quickly this time, slipping deep into it and feeling the connection between the thr
ee of them blossom again. It was stronger now and she fought a dizzy spell as her energy leached out of her.

  Hartt hit the black bar, making it shudder and jolting Loke.

  Anais’s temper broke its tethers.

  “Will you all go in the other damned room or something. I’m trying to fucking concentrate!” She turned a glare on every immortal present, uncaring that every single one of them was infinitely more powerful than she was.

  They all stared at her in stunned silence.

  Even Hartt had an edge of guilt to his violet eyes.

  “Take the fight elsewhere, Bleu,” Loren snapped.

  Bleu didn’t seem to listen.

  He pinned Hartt with a black glare. “Stay away from my sister, you assassin scum. I hear even a rumour that you merely looked at her in the wrong way and I will kill you. Tainted bastards like you deserve to be put down.”

  “Tainted?” The female elf stared at Hartt, shock dancing across her pretty face.

  “It’s nothing.” Hartt pushed himself off the bar and set his gaze on the other elf he had appeared with and the silver-haired man. “Get a move on, Harbin, or we’re leaving you behind.”

  Hartt teleported and reappeared next to the other elf in his group.

  Bleu looked there and his eyes widened again. “Commander Fuery? I thought you were dead.”

  The darker elf’s expression shifted dangerously, turning even blacker than it had been before.

  Bleu took a step towards him, the shock on his face remaining as he stared across the open space at the other elf. The one he had called Fuery didn’t seem to recognise him. He looked as if he was considering attacking Bleu, and possibly everyone else present.

  “How did you survive Vail’s attack?” Bleu whispered and Loren’s hand dropped away from Anais’s neck.

  She looked back at him and found him staring at Fuery, his wide eyes matching his stunned expression.

  Fuery didn’t answer. He continued to stare at Bleu through cold black eyes.

  “What happened to you?” Bleu took another step towards the other elf.

  This time, Fuery backed away one and cast a panicked look at Hartt, his dark eyes gaining a wild edge as he started to shake his head. Hartt closed the gap between them and placed his hand on Fuery’s shoulder. The touch seemed to comfort him and Fuery drew in a shuddering deep breath.