by Julia Mills
Running the tip of his tongue along the seam of her lips, begging entrance, he simply could not get enough of his gorgeous Fairy as she mewled her approval allowing his tongue to slide alongside hers. Arousal thickened in his blood as Felicity accepted his every advance, and whimpered with need, her hands sliding under his jacket, and her short, manicured nails biting into the tops of his shoulders.
Delving deeper, ravenous to taste every inch of her erotic curves, the scent of freesia, sweet peas and sunshine, her scent, intensified, warmed, combined with his own smoky aroma, driving the Dragon nearly out of his mind. Rocking his hips between her legs, the tip of his erection bumping her aroused clit through their clothing, Tristan worked his tongue in and out of her glorious mouth, imitating what he’d dreamt of doing so very many times with his body.
Pulling his lips from hers, he kissed and nipped across the soft skin of her jawline, nibbled on her earlobe and teased the tender spot behind her ear as he whispered directly into her mind, “You will be mine, Felicity Fairweather.”
Her only answer was the raking of her nails down his back as they made their way to his ass, digging in and pulling him closer. Unable to stay away, needing to be a part of her in any way she would allow, Tristan returned to her lips. The flames of desire roared brighter, their connection burned hotter, his need to touch every inch of her beautiful body became insatiable.
Cradling her bum with his hands, Tristan lifted Felicity off the ground, forcing her to grab his shoulders as and wrap her legs around his waist. Driving his body against hers, in sync with the racing beat of their hearts, Tristan’s left hand slid under the soft cotton of her blouse.
Jolts of electricity flew up his arm and down his spine, landing in the very depths of his soul, super-charging his every emotion, thought, and action. If there had ever been any doubt that Felicity was the one for him, it was instantly thrown by the wayside at the sheer magnitude of the feelings one kiss had summoned within him. He needed to mark her, to have his scent all over her, to be sure everyone everywhere knew that Felicity Fairweather was his and he would give his life to keep her safe, happy, and well-loved.
Running his fingers up her spine, memorizing her body, inhaling her gasps, Tristan could stand no more. Tearing his lips from his Fairy’s, setting her feet on the floor while grinning from ear-to-ear as she grumbled at the loss, he threaded his fingers through hers and turned to leave the park, planning to have his wicked way with her just as soon as he could get them both to the privacy of his office.
“Where are we…”
His mate’s breathy question was cut off as Gerri’s roar of, “Felicity, get your ass over here. Bitsy’s been poisoned,” sliced through their minds.
Changing directions in the blink of an eye, Tristan was now being pulled along, Felicity’s grip like iron as her fear beat at him with the furious intent of a hot poker. Flying around the corner of the Coffee Shack, his Fairy sprinted to where her sister lay unconscious on the concrete with Gerri on her knees by her side.
Stopping beside the Matchmaker as Felicity slid to the opposite side, sat on the ground and pulled her sister into her lap, the pungent odor of burnt almonds and the metallic scent of iron assaulted his senses. Leaning closer, letting Diarmuid’s magic flow directly into Bitsy, the Guardsman was consumed by rage as the Dragon King confirmed what Tristan had already feared, “She has indeed been poisoned – Arsenic and liquid Iron if I’m not mistaken, but I am sure those were used to mask the real danger. And… I don’t think Bitsy was the intended target.”
“What are you saying?” Tristan’s snarled demand was barely audible as the fangs of his Dragon descended from his gums.
“Look here.” The tip of Diarmuid’s talon pointed to a small, misshapen blob, the color of ink, the consistency of gelatinous goop with the power of pure evil pulsing within its core. “Look familiar?”
“Son of a bitch,” Tristan spat aloud, reaching for Felicity as he ordered, “Give me your sister. I know what’s inside her and I know the only people who can fix it.”
“But…h-how?” She hiccupped through her silent sobs, tears streaming down her face, her pain filling the air with a deep blue mist of sadness and despair.
Unwilling to waste any more time, Tristan slid his arms under Bitsy, held the blond Fairy to his chest and got to his feet. “Just trust me. I’ll explain on the way.”
Not waiting for her answer and silently thanking Gerri as the Matchmaker commanded, “Follow your mate. He knows what to do. Be sure to tell them the poison was in the coffee.” Tristen sprinted across the park, into the bottom floor of the five-story parking garage and ran straight for his Black SUV.
Clicking open the locks and opening the back passenger-side door with only a thought, he laid Bitsy on the backseat, quickly moving out of the way as a shell-shocked Felicity climbed in after. Lifting her sister’s head onto her lap, she looked up at him as if he were her only hope as she pleaded, “Are you sure this person can help?”
“I’m positive.” He gave her a single nod before adding, “I’ve known Max for a very long time. If there’s anyone in the world who knows what to do, it’s him.”
Slamming the door, he raced around the back of the vehicle, threw open the door and dove into the driver’s seat. Squealing out of the garage, he called telepathically to Julian, “We’re headed for your King’s house. Meet us there. Oh, and bring Drákon. We’re gonna need all the help we can get.”
Chapter Five
Holding tight to Bitsy as Tristan drove like a bat outta Hell, Felicity could no longer hold back her questions. She had to know what was wrong with her sister and she had to know right away.
“How do you know what’s inside Bitsy? Do Dragons have something special, some super, kicked-up diagnostic magic? I should’ve known something was wrong when Bits said the barista flirted with her. It’s not that every guy in the world doesn’t try to flirt with her, it’s that she scares the bejesus outta them and they end up gawking like kids at the circus.”
The silence was deafening. She could feel Tristan’s mind turning over one scenario after another, searching for the right words to explain, and it pissed her off almost as much as some asshole poisoning Bitsy for no reason at all. So frustrated she was literally seeing red and frightened out of her skull, Felicity screamed, “Tell me. Fuck the right words. Just spit it out.”
Watching his shock in the rearview mirror she almost felt bad, but then she looked down at Bitsy, her normally glowing complexion, now sallow and dull, her breathing labored and her heart starting and stopping like an old clock on its last legs, and she growled, “Out with it, Tristan. I mean it. A piss offed Fairy is not someone you want to mess with, even if you are a Dragon.”
That was all it took, the floodgates opened and he started to explain. The longer he talked, the more vivid his memories played out in her mind. She could see the horrid creature that had attacked not only Tristan, but his entire Clan. She experienced it undulating, stretching, devouring every living thing within its path. Could feel the heat of the bolts of Dragon fire attacking the monster he called the Obscured from the inside out. What had been little more than a dusty haze, became horrifically visible, its agonizing wails piercing and stabbing at Felicity’s mind.
Bursting from the abomination, Tristan, in the form of his brilliant bronze Dragon, fought with every ounce of strength he possessed until finally the Obscured fled and her poor mate was left battered, bruised, and totally alone. Her heart ached. How had he survived all these decades without his Clan, with no other Dragons?
“It took me a while to come to terms with the fact that everyone I’d ever known was gone. Something deep inside told me then and still whispers at me in the middle of the night, that they are still alive, somewhere, out there, trying to come home, but I’ve never been able to find them.”
Running his fingers through his hair as he inhaled deeply, Tristan continued while maneuvering the curves of the nearly abandoned road he’d turned onto wit
h the ease of a racecar driver. “That’s how I ended up working with computers. I went to college, several times over the years to keep busy, to take my mind off what I’d lost and my need to find out what happened to them.” He scoffed, shaking his head as if he saw something no one else could see. “I have more degrees than I know what to do with, a lot of them in every field of physics and quantum mechanics, and what I learned along the way made me believe that if I could recreate the exact frequency of the Obscured, combine that specialized technology with my magic and Diarmuid’s, that I could call the filthy bastard to me and destroy it once and for all.”
“I’m so sorry for everything you’ve been through, but I have to admit, I don’t know diddly about physics, quantum whats-a-who-its or even computers. It’s fair to say that the book Computers for Dummies is so far over my head it lives on the International Space Center and me in a hole in the ground. So, I have to ask, what does everything you just told me have to do with Bitsy? How can your mysterious friend help her?” Unable to hold back her tears any longer, Felicity pulled her sister closer, knowing she should call Mary Beth and Josie, but unsure what to say or how to say and thankful that Tristan was once again talking.
“Over the years, I’ve run across places where the Obscured has attacked. Vast, desolate plats of land that were once alive and thriving, and in less than a blink of an eye destroyed and one thing always remained – miniscule specs of black, oily sludge, scattered about, palpitating with what remained of the tainted magic that bore them, emitting a signal, a type of call that I could only assume was to its host.”
“I’ve collected more samples of the gross goo than I’d like to remember and the same thing always happens. Once separated from its host – the Obscured, and without a living host to feed upon, the blobs dry-up, and fade from existence.”
Clearing his throat, his apprehension filling the SUV with the sickeningly sweet odor of rancid fruit, Tristan’s eyes darted to hers before immediately looking away when he began again. “With the help of my Dragon, I examined your sister and found one of these nasty little buggers squatting like an overgrown toad in the depths of her soul.”
“But why Bitsy? What does she have to do with anything? How would they even know…”
“It was meant for you.” Tristan’s whispered declaration stole the words from her mouth and the breath from her lungs. Hurrying to explain, his words coming so fast, she had to truly concentrate to understand, her Dragon’s tone grew sharper, more adamant with every word. “I’ve known from the moment I set eyes on you that you were the one for me, but I never acted upon it. After all, I had all but locked Diarmuid away. He hadn’t come forth in nearly two hundred years. I’d stayed hidden, doing my research, promising that the day I could find my family and lay waste to the Obscured I would once again claim my place on the throne of the Bronze Dragons and find those still alive.”
Pausing as he took a sharp right turn and then an immediate left, he picked up where he’d left off, “Then I was kidnapped by Hades’ demons with a Hellhound called Brody. We were rescued by one of the Daughters of Poseidon and her Companion, Drákon, who I’m sure you’ve seen around DT.”
Shaking her head because quite frankly it was the only thing she could do, Felicity tried to follow as Tristan went on as the SUV made another abrupt left turn onto a long, bumpy dirt road. “During our fight to escape, I had to call Diarmuid forth and by doing so, unlocked his powerful magic, and well…”
It was the first time he’d stuttered which made Felicity hold her breath in anticipation of whatever bomb was about to be dropped. Sure enough, it was a doozy.
“With all that Dragon magic unleashed, I am just now finding out that I was like a beacon to not only other Dragons and Supernaturals, but also to all the Obscured that I thought I’d left behind.”
Still not sure what it had to do with her and needing to know the answer more than she needed almost anything else, Felicity opened her mouth to ask when Tristan brought the SUV to a screeching halt, jumped out of the driver’s seat and was opening her door before she could speak. Watching carefully as he gently lifted Bitsy into his arms and stalked towards the mansion, she jogged to catch up, stumbling over her own feet when the front door opened and a tall, suave Latin man with the deep green eyes and the sinewy grace of a Panther came into view.
Stepping to the side and with a sweeping gesture of his arm motioning them into his home, the man’s smooth, Latin accent shook with contained power as he instructed, “Through the kitchen and down the stairs, mi amigo. Sebastian and Miguel are in the Clinic.”
Staying close to Tristan, praying someone in the immaculately decorated castle of a home could help her sister, Felicity felt her magic take hold as she followed her Dragon into a dark, narrow stairway. Grabbing the back of his jacket, she whispered, “Are you sure about this?”
But it was the Panther who answered, “Do not fear, pequeña hada. Tristan knows where he’s going. You and yours are safe from all harm within the walls of my home.”
Something within her snapped. She was suddenly angrier than she could ever remember being. Bitsy was dying. It was supposed to her. And the kicker was, it had all started because she, Felicity Fairweather, wanted to have a freakin’ relationship…hell, even a date. Frustrated that she didn’t understand what was going to happen next and downright pissed that she no clue who was gonna live or die, she loosened the tight grip she always kept on her enchantment.
Letting the magic of her illustrious family spring to the forefront, the violent magenta of her rage glowed so brightly it filled the stairway. Spinning on her toes, Felicity poked the Panther in the chest and demanded, “Who the fuck are you? How can you help my sister? And why the fuck should I trust you when I just laid eyes on you for the first time in my life?”
Not bothered in the slightest by her outburst or her assault on his chest with her rather pointy fingertip, the Panther simply smiled and held out his hand, waiting for her to lay hers on top then shrugging and continuing when she flatly refused. “My name is Maximillian Prentice. I am the King of the Big Cats, and besides your extremely formidable mate, just happen to be the only other in existence who has ever encountered the Obscured and lived to tell the tale.” Walking past her, he added, “Oh, and you can call me Max. I have a feeling we’re going to be fast friends before you know it.”
Chapter Six
He’d hoped to have explained everything that was happening, or at least what he had firsthand knowledge of before they reached Max’s house. Had wanted Felicity to understand what was going on and that Max, along with his Pride were the only people in the world who knew more about the Obscured than he did…but of course, that wasn’t how it happened. Instead, Tristan had been swept up in the whirlwind of memories that took him down the dark paths of his past and demanded he share certain things with his Fairy that he’d hoped to keep quiet at least until they knew one another a little better.
Now, she was angry, actually furious better described what he felt filling their mating when she’d lashed out at Max. Thankfully, the King was nothing if not quick on his feet and cooler than the proverbial cucumber. More times than not, it was the Panther’s diplomatic flair and ability to pull the correct words right out of his ass that had gotten them out of more than one scrape over the years.
Kicking open the metal doors leading to the humongous sterile white room used for Triage in the Clinic Max built under his massive estate, Tristan rushed forward, trusting that Felicity was right on his heels. Laying Bitsy on the gurney, he looked up at Sebastian, a tall, muscular Bengal Tiger, with more healing magic and medical knowledge in his little finger than even Diarmuid, as he matter-of-factly announced, “This is Bitsy.” He motioned to the blond Fairy between them then turned to the side as Felicity swooped in and grabbed her sister’s hand. “And this is Felicity…ah….um, Bitsy’s sister.”
Coming up on his other side, Max added something in Spanish that sounded suspiciously like, ‘And his mate,’ whi
ch Tristan pointedly chose to ignore. “Look into my mind, Bash. Can you see what Diarmuid found? That nasty little blip of shit festering within Bitsy.”
“Yeah, I see it, but I need to get a closer look. I’ll have to join my Spirit with hers. It’s the only way to truly get a grasp of what is happening in there.” The Tiger shook his head and furrowed his brow while never taking his eyes off Bitsy. “Something about your recollection seems off, kinda skewed…almost distorted.” Sebastian’s voice trailed off as his eyes slid shut and the tickle of magic filled the air.
Unsure what the Tiger meant, but knowing he had to restore Bitsy back to the picture of health if Tristan was to have any chance of a life with Felicity, the Dragon stood completely still. Reaching for his Fairy’s free hand where it laid on the cot, he thanked the Heavens that Felicity didn’t pull away, actually holding on tight and accepting the comfort and support he was allowing to flow to her.
Doing as Diarmuid bid, Tristan let his Dragon King’s Life-force follow Sebastian’s path into Bitsy’s chi. Long minutes passed. It was as if the seconds were ticking off in his head, each passing with an ear-splitting bong, the dread of impending doom creeping towards him in a dark, dank cloud of malevolence and pain.
Images of the past, of all the villages, settlements and Lairs he’d seen decimated by the Obscured as he trekked thousands of miles across every country in the World in search of his family and his Clan. Watching them all on instant replay, he tried to find something, anything he might have missed the hundreds of other times he’d relived the loneliest time of his life.
Zeroing in on the recollection of a barren strip of land along a basin within the Columbian Andes, Tristan once again saw the man, face down in the dirt, festering wounds striping his back, his ribs the only thing holding up his pale, emaciated skin. Aiming towards the ground, changing from Dragon to man in mid-air, his feet silently touched down less than ten yards from the motionless body. The soul of a Panther stirred in the depths of the injured one’s soul, reached for Diarmuid with a resounding growl, bidding Tristan to come closer.
