A Dragon's Dream of Love (Song of the Sídhí Series #2)

by Jodie B. Cooper

  Leah narrowed her eyes at his seemingly casual answers, silently watching him as he took a large bite of pizza and washed it down with a drink of pop.

  “I will not have sex with you,” Leah said tartly.

  He choked on his pop, madly grabbing for a napkin as it spewed from his mouth. He struggled to breath and his face turned an alarming shade of crimson red. Pizza crust and pop made a terrible throat blocker. He couldn’t quit coughing.

  Beth and Brianna's chuckles turned into gales of laughter, while Leah maintained her quiet observation; she sat back and watched Derek gasp for breath.

  “That wasn’t funny.” His voice sounded rough and his eyes watered as he snarled at the girls.

  His grumpy words made them laugh even harder.

  Beth was laughing so hard she couldn't speak, so she mentally crowed, “Yes, it was! I can’t believe she hit it on the head! Literally! I think you've bedded every debutante at court.”

  “She’s got you totally pegged!” Brianna said, rocking with laughter.

  Derek ignored them both. Turning to Leah he snapped at her, “I can’t believe you think that.”

  Leah sighed; she felt a bit guilty, but from his sister's reaction she must've guessed correctly. Her lips twitched, trying very hard not to laugh at his disgruntled look. “Well, I’m not sorry I said it. I’m probably the very first girl that has ever turned you down. Derek, I’m not an idiot. My refusal makes me a challenge for you. I should’ve realized it before now, but I just wasn’t thinking.” She motioned toward his face and muscled body. “Guys, especially the 'beautiful people of the world,' never refuse a challenge. I’m sure you’re no different.”

  Sídhí Music

  Derek snapped his mouth shut, trying to swallow his growl, but it still rumbled from his chest. “Don’t worry, I’m over it. Why should I bother with you when I’ve already met a dozen different girls around camp? Notice given: I am one hundred percent – not – interested in you,” he said, emphatically throwing her own words back in her face.

  “Okay,” Leah said with a grin.

  Growling, he stood, planning to make a grand exist and storm off, but his body had other plans. He glanced into Leah's laughing eyes before she turned her undivided attention to her pop. The synth crystal, lacing the blood in his body, shuddered with a violent reaction.

  Inhuman music picked that exact moment to boil through his blood, exploding in an eerie symphony of sound that no one else heard. His soul shook as the synth crystal roared through his head, streaking its way around his backbone and into the tips of his toes. He vibrated with the force of his synth crystal naming Leah as his lifeMate.

  His legs turned liquid and he dropped in his chair.

  Derek instinctively knew Leah’s synth crystal hadn’t sung for him, not yet anyway; instinct gave Sídhí many unique abilities, including knowing whether or not the synth music sang in their lifeMate’s body. The singing in her body was inevitable, he knew it would happen. Sídhí had a single lifeMate. For better or worse, she was his lifeMate.

  He grabbed his cup with trembling fingers, blindly staring into the watered-down liquid, coming to terms with the otherworldly music that slowly disappeared from his ringing head.

  Already, he felt his body yearning to touch hers, needing it as desperately as a man in a desert needed water. He didn’t fight it; he wanted her, now, more than ever. He knew the minute he looked at her, he would be completely under the spell of the synth crystal, completely under her spell.

  That’s simply the way it worked. The synth in a person's blood pulled two perfect people together for a multitude of reasons. The primary reason – the most important reason – was mental stability. Most Sídhí lived thousands of years. The joining between lifeMates – the permanent lifeBond created – gave both immortals a solid, mental base.

  In less than a split second his life literally turned upside down. He felt bombarded. His hand fisted in his lap, trembling with the need to touch her. The moment the synth sang, it kicked off a chemical reaction in his blood, initiating a dozen physical and mental responses within him. His attraction toward her increased a thousand fold. He felt a desperate desire to please her and make her happy, and an overwhelming need to wrap her in a cocoon of safety.

  The chemical stimulated an unswerving and instantaneous love for her. How the Ancient Ones created a substance that triggered all those emotional responses and more, he didn't know. He really didn't care. Sídhí lived for their lifeMate. It was a fact of life.

  He glanced toward his sister and Brianna, but no one seemed to notice anything wrong with him; he had no outward signs, except for his slightly dazed look and racing heart.

  Beth and Brianna said goodbye, excitedly chattering with each other as they headed for their cabin.

  Derek took a deep drink of pop; his straw sucked air, shattering the stillness hovering over the table. He tried getting a grip on his racing heart, but Leah’s nearness didn’t help. Her scent enveloped him, teasing him until he throbbed with yearning.

  “I guess, I’ll head toward the cabin as well,” Leah said, reaching for her plate.

  It was now or never, Derek steeled his nerve and looked at her. His raging emotions slammed through him with the force of a tsunami. Love and desire exploded through every fiber of his being. He struggled, trying to draw a breath of air, watching her hips sway as she walked toward the trash can, dumping her empty plate. Swallowing a lump in his throat, he frantically tried figuring out a way to stay near her… without her pitching a fit. He had told her – in no uncertain terms – he was not interested in her, not in the slightest. The thought of her leaving without him made him frantic.

  He couldn’t tell her about his synth singing; it was forbidden. Even within the Dhark Valley, it was forbidden and with darn good reason.

  You never told a lifeMate your synth sung if theirs had not. Every child grew-up hearing horror stories of what happened to people who broke that Golden Rule. One of the worst stories he ever heard, originated from Sídhí, just after people became infected with synth crystal.

  The story related the horror of a doomed lifeMate couple. The words, handed down through the generations, echoed in his head as he remembered the details: It was a few years after the Ancients infected the population of Sídhí with synth crystal and people didn't know what the synth was capable of. Come to find out, it was capable of a lot, including singing in the blood of a vampire General by the name, Kirkland. His synth crystal sang for Princess Serena, a prisoner and a fae; she was one of the last survivors of the powerful race. He opened the cage that held her, freeing her on the spot. He told her his synth sang for her. She didn’t believe him. She yanked his sword from his scabbard and swung. At the exact moment she beheaded him, her synth sang for him.

  Derek shuddered; he had already royally screwed up with Leah. He wasn’t going to make matters worse by telling her his synth had sung for her. All he could do now was try and fix the mess he was in without making it worse. Damage control didn’t come close to encompassing his current needs.

  ~ ~ ~

  Leah turned and silently groaned; Derek kept watching her. Maybe if she hadn’t emphatically rebuffed his advances, he wouldn’t see her as a challenge.

  He started talking before she reached the table. She had a really bad feeling he was about to make her summer miserable.

  “I’ve got a suggestion,” Derek said.

  “No,” Leah said, without even hearing it, knowing it would sound good, but would turn-out bad.

  “You haven’t even heard it yet,” he argued, grabbing the back of her vest, he tugged her into her chair.

  Sighing, in an exasperated huff, she said, “Okay, out with it. What’s your suggestion?” She put her hand over her heart. “I’m waiting with baited breath to hear that silver tongue of yours.”

  “You do sarcasm so well,” he said with a grin.

  Leah couldn’t help it, she chuckled. If he wasn’t such a good-looking wretch, she might ac
tually come to like him.

  “First, we declare a truce,” he said, sighing at her expression of disbelief. “I can’t help my arrogance – though, I will try – and you can’t help living in a Dhark Valley.” Holding up his hand, he stopped her comment. “Second, I promise, I won’t try to get you in my bed.”

  He paused at her skeptical snort, but kept going by saying, “Third, I’d rather have you as a friend that I can trust than not at all. I have a feeling with people like Mort around we’ll need each other.”

  “That’s true enough,” Leah said, trying to decide if he had a hidden agenda. His suggestion had merit.

  He watched her with those eerie golden eyes of his. She was sure he had an ulterior motive, but she really did like him. That is, when he wasn’t trying to lay on the charm. For whatever odd reason, they clicked. She frowned at the direction her thoughts had taken and firmly amended her momentary insanity. They clicked as friends – absolutely – nothing more.

  “All right, I agree,” Leah said, crossing her arms she hid her full breasts, but his eyes never left her face which was a surprise since most guys' attention centered on a girl's chest, not her face.

  “Great, come on, let’s see if the commissary has any sunscreen and I’ll introduce you to chocolate,” Derek said eagerly, motioning for her to leave her bags under the table.

  The commissary was large, filled with shelves full of an odd assortment of everything imaginable; the wide variety included clothing, candy, games, assorted swim toys, even the latest movies. She assumed from the large selection, each cabin must have a TV and movie player.

  “Hello, dears, I’m Claire.” A soft raspy voice welcomed them.

  The hair on the back of Leah's neck rose in warning. Before turning, she slowed her racing heart, while dread built in her gut. Behind the counter sat an elderly gray haired woman, dressed in a colorful sundress that looked a size too small for her very plumb body. Her sweet smile improved her pale features, looking like a roly-poly grandmother who hugged every child within an arm's reach.

  Leah grimaced, trying her best to smile, she kept her growing unease carefully hidden. “Sorry, you startled me.”

  “No problem, sweetie.” The woman's sharp eyes contrasted with her seeming innocent appearance. Her gaze drilled straight through Leah. “There’s no sun in here to see if your eyes are red or black, but from your burned skin I’d say you’re an exile.”

  “Yes,” she agreed hesitantly.

  “Yes, well, for the next couple of weeks, you’ll need long sleeves and sunscreen. Look over there on the next aisle. Yes, that’s the one.” Claire frowned. “There’s still rather a lot of squabbling going on in most of the cabins. They could care less that you exiles can’t handle much sunlight for the first couple of weeks.”

  “I can’t ever handle much sunlight,” Leah said.

  “Didn’t the dragons checking you in tell you all the rules?”

  “One of them gave me some flyers, but I haven’t read them,” Leah said, immediately tuning the old woman out as she nattered on about rules and regulations. She glanced toward the open door where Derek stood surrounding by a flock of giggling young women. Less than two minutes and he had girls trailing him, not girl, but girls as in harem. The moment he headed toward the commissary, a group of girls from his home valley reached the deck, swarming around him, giggling over his every word, wrapping their arms around him, each girl demanding his attention.

  Why in the world did she think a truce would work between her and Mr. Perfect? Her thoughts simmered black and ugly as she watched his groupies fawn over him. One good thing, the girls trailing behind him might distract him long enough for her to get away. That’d be nice. She'd had more than enough time to salivate over his sun-touched hair caressing the roped muscles of his shoulders

  Leah had seen enough. Turning on her heel, she headed toward the sunscreen. She didn’t need to watch Derek further his list of available beauties.

  ~ ~ ~

  Derek ignored the trailing girls, but they followed him from the deck; each of them gave him a cabin number and an invitation. He politely refused each one, while pulling his arms from one girl's grasp only to find his other arm latched onto. He didn't want to accidentally hurt one of them, but their touch made him increasingly sick to his stomach.

  He bluntly informed the group he wasn’t interested, but they didn't listen. Their offers became faster and with greater detail of what they wanted to do to his body. The blatant sexuality of the girls left him cold; he had no interest in anyone, except his lifeMate who was currently shooting daggers at him.

  He was fascinated with Leah's eyes. In the sun, they turned a shocking blood red, but in the shade they mesmerized him; one minute they appeared a soft gray color and the next moment, as her mood changed, they shifted to a brilliant stormy purplish color like a dark, deep amethyst, a perfect gem with a lightning storm in its center.

  "Let's find a quiet corner," a brunette said in a husky come-hither voice. She grabbed his butt cheek, giving it a hard squeeze.

  He jumped forward like she poked him with a hot iron. "No!"

  Derek wildly glanced around the store, looking for Leah, but she had disappeared among the heavily stocked shelves.

  He groaned in frustration. The girls would eventually get the picture. His notoriety as a playboy didn’t help matters. He was brother to the Alpha Prime and a true royal back home. He held the title of Grand Duke and all the land – and headaches – that went along with the title.

  His eyes followed his lifeMate down a short aisle and he stalked forward, trying to catch up with her.

  The scowl on her face as she snatched the first bottle of sunscreen told him how irritated she was at him. She quickly retreated to the front of the store, never once looking at him or the brunette rubbing her boobs against his bare arm.

  He tried pulling free of Boob Girl, but she hung on like a burr stuck in a horse's tail.

  The gaggle of girls giggled and squealed behind him. He should have made it clearer to the girls of Haven Valley that he wasn’t interested. Period.

  Leah’s reaction made him grit his teeth with rapidly growing frustration. He had always attracted girls; they swarmed like gnats on a bad banana. Now, that he didn’t want their attention, he didn’t know how to get rid of them.

  Without any kind of plan, he abruptly turned toward them and knocked off a huge bottle of green apple-scented shampoo. It hit the floor with a loud thump and bounced. Thankfully, it didn't burst.

  The girls giggled shrilly and surrounded him. How had he ever tolerated high-pitched shrieks that sounded like a pig getting its teeth pulled-out?

  At his wit's end, he lengthened his canines and flashed his sharp teeth, growling at them with barely suppressed menace.

  As one, the girls squealed in alarm.

  Boob Girl jumped back, banging into a shelf loaded with big beach balls. The balls and Boob Girl went flying.

  A sigh of resignation hissed through his teeth. Reaching down he offered her a hand up, but she stumbled to her feet and shot off. The remainder of his unwanted admirers immediately followed her.

  He snapped his teeth together, not bothering to smother another growl; he hated hurting people. It put him in a nasty mood.

  He stepped past the mess he made and quickly found several thin and blousy cover-shirts and a bottle of aloe. Turning, he hurried to the front, grabbing various items as he passed them. He dumped his growing hoard of goodies on the counter just as Leah sat hers down.

  Unable to stop himself, he edged closer to her.

  "Where'd the harem go?" Leah asked sarcastically. "It was starting to sound like a rock concert with all their squealing."

  He ignored her words. What could he say that wouldn't make it worse?

  His eyes narrowed. Softly growling, he pressed a feather light finger to her red shoulder. It was hot to the touch; the sunburn looked a lot worse under the florescent lighting.

  “Stop that!” she hissed, sw
atting his hand away.

  “How long were you in the sun?” he asked quietly, ignoring her order.

  “Doesn’t matter,” she muttered. “As you noticed, I’m an exile. I burn in the sun.”

  “At least it won’t be for much longer,” the clerk commented; the flab under her arms flopped as she sacked their stuff up.

  “That’s the second time you’ve said something like that.” Leah sighed, not in the mood to be subtle. “What do you mean?”

  “Humph,” Claire snorted, her jaws quivered. “You weren’t listening.”

  “Sorry,” Leah said, sounding repentant. “I was sidetracked.”

  “The dragons have forbidden blood drinking.” Claire shuffled backward, inching her way onto the spindly stool. “All vampires must eat human food or go hungry.”

  “Yes, I’ve heard that,” Leah said, wishing the old woman would spit it out. “What does that have to do with my skin burning?”

  “Don’t they teach you anything in the Dhark Valley?” Claire asked, apparently shocked over Leah's lack of knowledge.

  Derek's anger flared so fast it choked him. He gripped the edge of the counter until he heard a small crack. He jerked his eyes from the old harridan – who dared ridicule his Leah – and looked at the sliver of wood in his hand.

  “In Lord PhñDick's house it’s forbidden to eat human food.” Leah stopped leaning toward Derek, self-consciously shifting away from him. “The topic of human food in a dhark overlord's court is rather restricted.”

  “Hmm, yes, I suppose it would be,” Claire half-muttered to herself.

  Derek frowned at the wrinkled old woman, carefully keeping his fangs from glaring at her as well. The dragons shouldn't let mundane humans work in the commissary if they couldn't be polite.

  Turning to Leah, he softly said, “After a week, maybe two, of not drinking human blood you won’t be as sensitive to the sun. Your eyes will turn black in the sunshine instead of red and your skin won’t burn.”

  “Oh, thanks,” she said with a sigh, glancing at him she nervously tugged at the end of her braided hair. “I heard about differences between blood-drinkers and non-drinkers, but no one talked about it. It’s a totally taboo subject.”