by S. A. Ravel
They landed on the roof, six Aikalah warriors. Davin knelt on one knee, hand pressed against the poured concrete. Then he balled it into a fist, and struck.
Perrine screamed.
The roar of the roof caving in startled her out of her concentrated focus to locate the men in the building by the sounds of movement or tech. A shower of dust and larger bits settled in her hair, seeping through cracks in the floorboards above. An ominous creak and she struggled against her bonds—after several minutes of pounding on the doors, Lans had returned and tied her up, the bastard—frantically looking around for something to duck under. She knew it was Davin—the tug of his mind, his enraged seeking, had allowed her the mental space to calm and think about her surroundings. He was coming for her, which meant he didn’t hate her, at least.
But she hadn’t wanted him to topple the building on her head. “De toutes les choses stupides…” she muttered.
Shouting and a familiar flare, the tug of a mental connection, an Archan’s silent demand she reveal herself. The rapid whish of wings was unmistakable, a sound she’d come to recognize whenever Davin unfurled his wings in temper or excitement. And there were several pairs.
Perrine managed, despite bonds wrapping around her calves and linking to the wraps around her wrists, to half-stand, half-hobble to her feet. She hopped along the wall, using it for support and balance, and reached for Davin.
Basement.
For the first time, she tried to use this thing between them, sending the knowledge of her state and position. His attention was immediate; he grabbed the image and yanked it from her mind. Perrine winced, swearing, promising herself she’d teach the boy some manners when this situation was settled. On the heels of that thought was that she’d betrayed him. She had no right to be angry at him for anything.
The door, threshold, and part of the wall shattered. Perrine screamed, more from anger than fear, throwing herself backwards.
“I’m in here, you know!” She indulged herself, let out a string of the nastiest words she knew.
Davingelo strolled in through the dust, he grinned. “I love when you swear in French. You say the foulest things and make them sound so sweet, ma petite.”
Power swirled around him and her bonds disintegrated, a flash of heat like the accidental touch of a finger against a hot stove. She swore, again, but supposed a bit of pain was a small enough price to pay.
“Did you kill him?” she demanded.
His brow rose. “I thought you’d rather he owe you money, cher. A dead man pays no ransom money.”
She opened her mouth, paused. Damn, but she loved this man. He knew her so well.
But… Perrine forced herself to look him in the face and walk forward. “Thank you,” she said. “I owe you again.”
And she stood on her toes, pressing her lips against his. A sweet kiss, soft. She pulled away right as her body began to heat, right as his arm began to slid around her waist. She couldn’t let herself think this was anything more than a goodbye kiss. She’d betrayed him; he would never trust her again. Could certainly never love her.
Davingelo looked down at her, smile gone. “I said I would collect.” He took her hand. “Come.”
After they sprung her from Lans’ cage, all Perrine wanted to do was get out. She got her fill of the creepy warehouse while she cooled her heels in the cell. But the Red Wings, summoned by Archan Ishaiq, had to ask her a round of questions before they let her go.
She spun it as best she could under the circumstances. Lans Madson was an investor in her business, or so she told the Red Wings. A simple disagreement over how much of Club Parodie he owned had gotten out of hand, but he had been acting erratically in the days leading up to her kidnapping.
The blood-winged Aikalah didn’t seem to believe her story, but Perrine knew they couldn’t prove otherwise. Nobody in the Pleasure District would admit that Lans was shaking them down. Everybody would tell the same story she had, and when the Red Wings found something else to interest them, it would be business as usual.
Davin never left her side, even when the Red Wings specifically told him to. The Archan’s warriors backed Davin, the Red Wings had no choice but to back down. When they finally did release her, she turned to Davin, avoiding his eyes.
“I need to get home to my father and make sure he’s safe and the business hasn’t been harmed.”
“I’ll fly you.”
“That’s not—”
“I said I’ll fly you.”
He went to speak with Ishaiq and then returned to Perrine, wrapping his arms around her and lifting off. The flight to the mainland was short, and they set down in the middle of the evening’s busy foot traffic. Couples and groups out for the evening all turned to look, some of them excited when they recognized Davingelo.
She sighed. It would be in the vlogs that evening, but at least it would be good publicity. Perrine placed a hand against Davin’s chest, then curled her fingers into a fist, stepping away. “You don’t have to come in with me, you’ve done enough.”
He stared at her. “Are you telling me to go?”
She bit her lip. “I know we have unfinished business. Just—I need to deal with things here first and then I’ll come to you.”
Davin took a step back, unfurled his wings with the arrogance of an angel, uncaring if he was casually knocking others out of his path. No one seemed to mind—or if they did, they didn’t say anything.
“Soon, Perrine, or…”
“I know,” she whispered after he’d flown away
13
It took her three days to gather her courage. Three days she spent talking herself into hiding somewhere he could never find her so she didn’t have to face his anger or revulsion. Three days she spent telling herself that she had a debt to pay, and no woman worth her mettle skipped out on debts. She was grown, a business owner, a leader in her small corner of the world.
So she stepped onto the Institute grounds in the height of the afternoon, feeling the flare of their mental pull as she approached. Her feet led Perrine to Davin, the small corner green where he stood in perfect light, a tray of paints on his arm, and easel with half-finished work in front of him. His head turned and he smiled, the naughty, half amused, half malicious grin she’d come to know.
“You’re late,” he said.
“You didn’t actually set a deadline.” She stared at the painting, wonder creeping into her voice. “You’re painting on your own again.”
The smile softened, eased into something closer to joy, and the warmth of a man finally at peace with himself. “Yes.”
She approached, and ignoring the hand he held out, knelt at his feet.
“Perrine.”
The surprise in his voice gave her a bit of amused satisfaction before the emotion faded away. She swept her hands under the heavy length of her golden bronze hair, and held it out like an offering.
“I can pay you in gold,” she said, “or I can pay you in gold.”
The same deal as Lans. Money or flesh, it would be Davin’s choice. Either was precious, either was fair. Except it wasn’t Lans, and she knew what choice she wanted Davin to make. What choice her heart yearned for him to make. She didn’t look up, waiting on the decision that would change her life.
And was shocked when he knelt in front of her. “Perrine, did it take you three days to come to me because you feel guilty?”
She nodded, miserable.
“Good. You should.”
Her head jerked up and she glared. Davin grinned at her, the malice back, but it was the humor in his eyes that relaxed her.
“You’re a devil,” she said.
His brow furrowed for a moment. “That’s the same thing as an angel, right?”
She snorted. The Aikalah hated the human word angel. She wasn’t certain why, but maybe something had gotten lost in translation.
He waved a hand, and then rose, pulling her with him, into his arms. “Never mind.” His brow rose. “So you’ll pay me in go
ld? I don’t want your payment.”
She stiffened, stung. But it was his right. As her heart began to crumble, she said, “I have a credit transfer pending, just awaiting my authorization. I’ll—”
“Shut up, Despre.”
He kissed her, hands roving down her back to squeeze her buttocks. Hard, more of a pinch than a caress. She squealed against his mouth, lost beneath the onslaught of an Archan’s passion and obvious arousal. Her arms rose, twined around his neck, her pelvis pressing against his. She craved him, hadn’t slept in three days, the ache between her thighs driving her near to madness.
Davingelo laughed, mouth trailing down her neck. “You, in my bed, I can already have. But I’ll take the credit transfer on behalf of the Institute’s scholarship fund. Not because I think you owe me, but because if I don’t let you pay, this will hang over us the rest of our lives. You’re not nearly as amoral as I am. It’s a little sweet, but foolish.”
There were so many things in that little speech that pissed her off and made her simultaneously happy.
“Do you know where Lans is?” she asked. “I received a transfer from his accounts—all the ransom I’ve ever paid him. But no one has seen or heard from him.”
A chill traveled down her spine at the cold, lethal look that crossed his face. “You won’t hear from him.”
“Davin—you said he was alive.”
“Did I? I may have given you an alternative fact.” He made the statement casually, then shrugged.
Perrine relaxed her gritted teeth and smiled, despite her temper. “You’ll drive me mad. I have to get back to my father. I promised him I wouldn’t be long—he worried that—”
“I’m going with you,” he said. “You shouldn’t go home alone. And I suppose I should have a talk with him, hmm? So he knows my intentions are mostly honorable. And to establish how much money he’s allowed to swindle me out of every year as the benefit of being my pasanzi’s father.”
Perrine grinned. “This conversation will be fabuleusement divertissants.” She looped her arms around his waist, clasping her fingers to secure herself around him.
“But first,” he said. “You owe me the first part of your payment. Time to collect.”
The deep, sensual tone warned her—as if his erection hadn’t already—what he had in mind. Davin wrapped his arms around her and flapped his wings, taking to the air again. It only took a few minutes for him to fly to his private home on the grounds.
She looked up at him, intending at least try to explain what she had accepted while Madson had her in a cage, but when she looked in his eyes, she realized she didn’t need to explain a thing.
Even in his courtyard, he wouldn’t let her go. His arms stayed wrapped around her, cradling her like a precious jewel. In the quiet noon breeze, Perrine felt the stirrings of the magic again. There was no music to strengthen or sustain it, but there didn’t need to be. She could feel it just as clearly as she had every other time and just as intensely.
Maybe it wasn’t the music or the painting at all. Maybe it was just them.
“Pasanzi,” she whispered, testing the weight of the words on her tongue.
The Aikalah word for lover, for partner, for mate. It was the simplest explanation for the connection. The only one that made sense and the last one Perrine would have come up with.
Her use of the word didn’t seem to surprise Davin. He smirked and slid his hands down, cupping her flesh. There was nothing tentative about his touch, as if he’d known all along.
“It took you long enough,” he said before he claimed her lips.
They made love there in the courtyard, with only the sun and bright sky as witnesses. Davin laid her down on the grass, caressing her face as he slid inside of her. There was no music this time, other than their own moans and cries of ecstasy as they rode the waves of pleasure together.
In the aftermath, they clung to one another, gasping for breath as the last orgasmic shocks faded. Perrine jabbed her elbow into Davin’s ribs just hard enough for him to feel it.
“Woman, what was that for?”
“Playing games with me! How long have you known?”
Davin shrugged. “That you were mine? Since the first duet, but it didn’t matter until you accepted it.”
Perrine raised an eyebrow. “You fell in love with me in three days?” For once she was only pretending to be skeptical. She couldn’t explain it, couldn’t justify it, but she was just as in love with Davin as he was with her.
“No, pasanzi. It didn’t take anywhere near that long. You’ve been mine since the moment I saw you.”
She could have asked more questions. Half a dozen sprang to her mind. But why use words when they could let their bodies do the talking?
With no snappy retort on her lips and no questions worth asking. Perrine did something she didn’t do often, she told the complete truth.
“I love you, too,” she whispered.
With Parodie closed for repairs and Lans down the darkest hole Davin could find for him, Perrine got something she hadn’t had in years—a string of days off. Fortunately, she had a sexy Aikalaan male by her side to pass the time.
They didn’t bother getting out of Davin’s bed on the first morning, but at midday a message was slipped under the door.
Davin rolled his eyes, skimming the note. “We’ve been invited to Skyhall Ishaiq.” He looked sour. “He is my elder and my patron—we can’t ignore him no matter how I want to stay here in bed with you.”
“Wait—we?”
His look was pointed. “Yes, we.”
They arrived at the Skyhall early in the afternoon, a small drone hauling a white-covered parcel at their side. All her life, Perrine had looked up at the Skyhall and wondered what life was like inside. She had her answer—a pile of organized chaos. Servants zipped around the ground floor, carrying silver platters of hors d'oeuvres and sparkling wine.
A middle-aged woman stepped out from what must have been the kitchen, wiping her hands on a clean white towel. When Davin explained that the Archan had summoned them, she directed them to the elevator in the center of the main hall.
When they reached upstairs, it became clear why the servants were so busy. A dozen Aikalaan were gathered on the Archan’s receiving balcony. Archan Ishaiq stood in the center, holding court with a beautiful woman with a cloud of curls at his side. She wore the gold belly chain and strapped halter top of an Aikalaan female, but instead of tight leggings, a billowing skirt covered her lower half.
The Archan spotted Davin through the crowd and beckoned him to come closer. Davin passed the painting to Perrine and walked over to the Archan. The Archan’s woman stood on her tip toes and whispered something in his ear then strode over to Perrine. An Aikalaan woman followed her.
The warm smile on her face soothed any suspicions Perrine had about how much being the Archan’s mate might go to a human woman’s head.
“You must be Perrine Despre. I’m Abella, this is our guest, Lady Seri.”
It wasn’t until the honey-haired Aikalaan woman smiled that Perrine recognized her as one of the audience members from her surprise debut.
Lady Seri nodded off the recognition in Perrine’s eyes. “When I saw your performance I just had to tell Abella about it. But there was no recording available.”
“Ishaiq and I regretted missing the performance,” Abella said.
Perrine’s brow furrowed and she turned around to get Davin’s attention. As far as she was concerned, they both owed the Archan’s household, and if putting on a private showing of the duet could pay back that debt, so much the better.
Before Perrine could say anything, Lady Seri pulled the sheet off the painting, revealing Davin’s portrait of her soaring above the flaming wasteland.
“So, I suggested he purchase the painting.”
For a moment, Perrine wasn’t sure she wanted to leave the painting behind. It felt too intimate, too much a reflection of her relationship with Davin. But when she turned to look for her
lover, his smile told her that he was at peace with letting the painting go. She understood why.
Davin had found his muse and claimed her. With passion and fire and love. It was the first painting his love for her would inspire, but it wouldn’t be the last.
Sometimes authors use music to help them envision the feel of a story. S.A. Ravel and I were inspired by films like Carmen (new and old versions), Porgy and Bess, and the music of Ella Fitzgerald. We decided to share the playlist of songs we wrote to. Click to go to YouTube to rock out. Peace.
PLAYLIST
Chapter One: She Came To Give It To You (Usher w/Nicki Minaj)
Chapter Two: Please Don’t Stop the Music (Rihanna)
Chapter Three: Fever (Beyonce)
Chapter Four: Summertime (Ella Fitzgerald)
Chapter Five: Money Make Her Smile (Bruno Mars)
Chapter Six: A Loaded Smile (Adam Lambert)
Chapter Seven: One Night Only (Jennifer Hudson)
Chapter Eight: Supermassive Black Hole (Muse)
Chapter Nine: Smooth Criminal (Michael Jackson)
Chapter Ten: Can’t Live Without Your Love (Janelle Monae)
Chapter Eleven: Phantom of the Opera (Nicole Scherzinger)
Chapter Twelve: Whatever Happens (Michael Jackson)
Chapter Thirteen: Selah (Lauryn Hill)
Would you like the next Dreamkeeper new release romance FREE? Click the image to be placed on our list.
A broken winged warrior rises from the sea to battle for his throne. An heiress flees Earth to reclaim her life.
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