by Rush, Jaime
“A powerful and dark one. Which makes this a bad situation for a Dragon in particular.”
“Why?”
“You’re a yellow Dragon, yes?”
“Citrine, technically. Dragon deities love gemstones.”
“Emotional. Impulsive. Two good reasons right there for you to stay away from this situation.”
“But those are good traits.” Well, mostly.
He was shaking his head, though not one hair moved. “Those are bad traits when dealing with Caidos because we are neither emotional nor impulsive.”
“See what a great team we’d make, balancing each other? We have a common goal—finding someone we care about. Their disappearances are connected. It makes sense to work together.”
He gestured to the wings. “Whoever did that would not hesitate to incinerate you.”
“Watch it, or I’ll think you care about my safety.”
The corners of his mouth twitched. “You will complicate my investigation, and if you’re killed, I will have to deal with your remains.”
Ooh, he was a tough one. “Okay, then, here’s the deal. I’m not your responsibility, so my remains will not be your concern. Nor can you stop me.” She fisted her hand at her chest. “Maybe Caidos can’t love or care, but I do. I love my pop, and I can’t sit by and do nothing but wait for the generosity of your updates.”
He backed up as she spoke. “Unwise. But as you say, you are not my responsibility.”
“I don’t suppose you’ll let me look around for clues?” Which she did as she slowly headed toward the door.
“No.”
Her gaze went to two coffee mugs at the table, and her nose picked up the scent of cinnamon. She sidestepped Archer and lifted the mug to her nose. “This is what my pop drinks, coffee with a dash of cinnamon and cayenne. How did they get here when their cars are at my pop’s place? Wait, you guys can teleport yourselves from one place to another, can’t you?”
“It’s called ‘Leaping.’ Jeremy probably brought him here when things got ugly at your father’s.”
Fear rippled through her. “Then they disappeared from here.”
Lyra noticed that whenever she felt strong emotion, Archer backed away. She ignored him, investigating the fridge where several pictures were taped to the stainless-steel doors. They were taken at a nightclub, three of a man and woman posing together, one with them flanking a woman with long blond hair and striking features.
She pointed to the man. “This is Jeremy?”
“Yes.”
“He looks like Russell Crowe.” He was muscular, with dark blond hair. And laughing. She glanced at Archer, whom she couldn’t imagine in full-out laughter.
She turned back to study the woman who was in all of the pictures. Crescent magick features, like the flames in a Dragon’s eyes or the mist in a Deuce’s eyes, were indistinguishable in pictures. “Who’s the redhead?”
Archer paused, as though he were considering answering. Finally he said, “That’s his girlfriend, Anika.”
“Girlfriend? That’s not very common among Caidos, is it?”
“No.”
Whenever Lyra did see a Caido, they were often alone. “Would she be the kind of psycho who would cause two men to disappear?”
“I only met her once. She seemed nice enough. She loves Jeremy.”
What would it be like to love a Caido? The idea was oddly intriguing. “Who’s the other woman?”
“I only know her first name, Kye. She’s apparently some kind of sexual Deuce.”
“What’s that, a hooker? Were they into something weird?”
“According to Jeremy, she’s a sex therapist, somebody Anika knows.”
“So is Anika a Deuce, too?” She’d never heard of a Caido hooking up with a Deuce or a Dragon.
Disapproval reflected on Archer’s face. “Jeremy foolishly put himself in a situation where he consorts with Crescents. And he fell in love with one.”
“Oh, so he doesn’t disdain us like the rest of you do?”
“No.”
Well, that was enlightening. “I know it’s frowned upon when the different classes of Crescents hook up, but…wait, it’s more of a ‘gods forbid a Caido would fall for a lower class of Crescent’ thing, isn’t it? Oh, and you don’t consider yourselves Crescents—at least that’s what I’ve heard. But guess what? We lump you right in with all of us bastard offspring of gods.” Neither Deuces nor Dragons liked each other much, but they weren’t quite as elitist as Caidos.
Archer’s jaw ticked. She was annoying him. Good. Mr. Stoneface could use some annoyance in his life.
And more…
She squelched the desire to make him smile instead, or even get him so pissed off that he’d grab her by the shoulders and—
He said, “Don’t judge what you don’t understand.”
“You could make me understand.”
Uh, where were these words coming from? Oh, the Thrall. She had to stop looking into those eyes, at that chiseled face. She turned back to the pictures, trying to figure out if this played into her father’s disappearance.
“Anika’s wearing a different outfit in each picture, which means these were taken on separate nights. Which means they hang out there a lot. Where are they?”
“Witch’s Brew.”
She tapped her mouth as that sank in. “A Caido who hangs out at a Deuce nightclub. Interesting.”
“It’s too bad you can’t get into that club. It’s Deuce only.”
“But you’re going, aren’t you?”
He shook his head. “I’d no sooner go to a place like that than visit the Everglades.”
But he would go there, she was sure, and question Kye.
She started to turn away. “Okay, I’m leaving.”
He gave her a skeptical look. “Just like that?”
“Yep. You don’t want to figure this out together, which is what intelligent people would do. Fine. You’re obviously repulsed by me, so I will investigate on my own.”
“Repulsed?” He looked genuinely puzzled, but he clearly wanted nothing to do with her. Which hurt a tiny little bit. “I’m not repulsed by you.”
“Wow, that just warms my heart.” Despite her sarcasm, it did soften the tight knot in her chest. She left, wondering what she was going to wear to a Deuce nightclub.
Chapter 3
Lyra leaned against the building across the street from the Witch’s Brew. A line of hopefuls waited between the velvet ropes, moving to the beat of the dance music that pounded through the walls and burst out every time the door opened.
Dragons and Deuces had a variety of clubs just for their kind. Some were lounges, some were high-energy dance clubs like this one, and some were places that allowed darker sorts of entertainment. Or so she’d heard.
She had cruised past the line of Deuces who’d looked at her like she was some Deuce wannabe. As if. Now she was staking it out, waiting for…
Ah, there he was.
Archer pulled up in his Aston Martin, handed the valet his key, and headed toward the line. Unlike her, he hadn’t conceded to the kind of style one would wear to a nightclub. Or at least what she’d seen Anika and Kye wearing in the pictures, a lot of black and studs and skin. Lyra had chosen a black shirt with a bleeding rose on the front, black pants, and studded high heels. Though she’d be tagged as an outsider by her fiery eyes, at least she’d be dressed like them.
Archer looked as though he’d just come from a business meeting with his white long-sleeved shirt, though it was open at the collar. At least his dress pants were black. By his expression, which she could see as she neared him, he was not happy about going inside. In fact, he looked pained.
Just wait, baby. It’s only going to get worse when you see me.
He strode to the front of the line and approached the bouncer, a huge steroid advertisement. The guy’s smirk showed how ready he was to turn this pretty-boy Caido away. As she neared, she heard Archer say, “You will let me into the club tonight
. Go ahead, check your VIP list. I’m on there. Archer Grant.”
The bouncer’s face softened as he looked into Archer’s eyes; then he scanned the list and said, “Enjoy.”
She ran the remaining few steps and put her hand on Archer’s arm as he began to go in. “There you are! Thought I’d missed you.” She flashed the bouncer a smile, seeing a glazed look in his eyes.
Archer’s eyes, however, were as sharp as cut glass. He was not fool enough to make a scene here, though. He reluctantly guided her ahead.
“You’re not surprised to see me here, are you?” she asked.
“No.”
“You’ve got to stop being so talkative. Yammer, yammer, yammer.” She hiked her thumb toward the door. “You mesmerized that guy, didn’t you?”
A man in a black suit opened the door for them, and pulsing music drowned out anything Archer might have said. He paid for both their cover charges, which surprised her. Was he resigned to her presence?
Katy Perry’s “E.T.” packed the dance floor. The bass throbbed through Lyra’s entire being, and lights flashed in smoke-choked air, lighting the haze blue, green, and red, over and over.
Several Air Elementals rode the music like invisible surfboards, their knobby knees and elbows bent, skinny arms out for balance. They loved the nightclubs. Mischievous buggers, too, causing a ruckus when they pinched a butt here or there and disappeared into a mist, leaving some hapless Crescent to take the blame. And the lushy ones would drain your drink if you weren’t paying attention.
She didn’t mind the Elementals, but her chest tightened and her Dragon shivered at being surrounded by so many Deuces, all staring at her. The women had a whole different expression when their eyes alighted on Archer. It wasn’t because the black lights changed his shirt into a brilliant purple or that he was using that mesmerizing thing on them, because his expression was as shuttered as could be.
But the women were drawn to him like a magnet. Two of them slid through the crowd, purposely rubbing their bodies against his as they passed. A blonde paused in front of him, staring into his face. He stepped around her.
Another woman aimed for him like a rocket, her tongue tracing her red lips. She gripped his shoulders, her face close to his. “Dance with me.”
He removed her hands. “No.”
Every female’s gaze was riveted on him. Hullo? Did no one see that Lyra was next to him? No, because several touched him as though they couldn’t help themselves. In the flashes of light, she saw his tight mouth, teeth gritted. His skin had a sheen of sweat.
“Beautiful…”
“Gorgeous…”
Exclamations floated between the beats as she and Archer worked their way to the bar. He looked as though he were in pain. She remembered Cyntag’s warning about touching Caidos, but here, women touched Archer and treated him like a demigod.
Lyra slid her arm through his, pressing tight by his side, aiming harsh glares at every woman who approached. At his surprised expression, she winked to let him know she wasn’t coming on to him. He stood out even among the magick men here. He was purity, sensuality, and godlike beauty. That Caidos rarely mixed with others made him even more alluring.
Women still reached for him, but Lyra pushed their hands away. “Mine. Hands off,” she growled, feeling her Dragon heat in possessiveness.
Just pretending!
Her Dragon purred, ignoring her, its talons kneading her skin. Like.
Really? You haven’t felt that way about any of the Dragons I’ve dated. Why are you acting all sexy and wanting with a Caido?
Yummier than any of them.
Their beasts were carnal, predatory, but they didn’t always make sense.
She and Archer skirted the dance floor, jam-packed with writhing, rubbing, sliding bodies. He tugged her toward a vacant spot at the bar, where undulating colors lit the thick glass. There were no available stools, just enough space for him to lean toward the female bartender and ask if she’d seen either Anika or Jeremy.
She stared at him and then shook her head. “Another Caido? Wow, this club’s getting interesting. I haven’t seen Jeremy in a few days, but Anika’s here somewhere.” She searched the crowd. “I don’t see her at the moment.”
He ordered an absinthe, then turned to Lyra. “Drink?”
Definitely not an absinthe. “Cranberry and Absolut, please, dash of Tabasco.” He raised his eyebrow at that. “Dragons have a thing for…hot and spicy.”
Did she see his mouth quirk? Probably not. Archer was anything but hot and spicy, though she wondered what was beneath the surface. She tried to pay, but he put money on the bar when the drinks arrived. He handed her the shorter glass and gripped his as he scanned the people sitting at the bar.
Lyra looked for Anika, too, but was drawn again to watch the dance floor. The sensuousness pulled at her, pulsing through her body with a song that was hard rock and electronica at once. “Firestarter,” the singer rapped, oddly appropriate to how she felt. She gulped half her drink and set it on the bar, her arm brushing Archer’s side.
She wanted to touch him. Knowing it was the Thrall didn’t quell her desire one bit. She didn’t even realize she’d begun to move to the beat until her butt brushed against him. The music was irresistible, too. She turned to him, nearly his height with her high heels, and moved close to his ear. Unfortunately, that action pressed her breasts against his chest.
“Now I know why you looked so pained about coming here. Is this what it’s like, women wanting to touch you all the time?”
He kept his gaze on the dance floor. “Everything about this is painful.”
“What is it that makes me—women—want to touch you? It’s beyond that you’re gorgeous. It’s a compulsion.”
He leaned closer, his breath warm against her ear. “It’s our energy, the essence we carry from our ancestors.”
His face was only inches from hers, the shimmer in his eyes pulling at her, making her eyes heavy. “Are you mesmerizing me on purpose?”
He didn’t look away. “No.”
“I won’t touch you. I’m stronger than your pull.”
His mouth turned up in a soft smile. “I am Dragon, hear me roar?”
She laughed. “Yeah, something like that. I’m just saying, you don’t have to worry about me mauling you. I am totally into Dragons. Their heat. Their fire.” She dragged in a breath. Oh my, the way his eyes held her gaze felt as though she’d swallowed half a bottle of champagne. Speak. Don’t stand there staring at him like a nudge. “Kirin, my twin, fell in love with a Deuce, and I don’t get that at all. We should stick with our own kind.”
“I’m glad you feel that way.”
A woman returned to her seat at the bar next to them, forcing Lyra to shift closer to Archer. The woman’s gaze lingered on his face, and Lyra settled against him and shot her a territorial look, obviously with him.
Archer smiled then, a real one that tightened her chest. “So you’re my guardian Dragon?”
His gaze dropped to her mouth, a sure sign that a man was thinking of kissing her. Her heart didn’t trip at the thought; it did a complete flip. She involuntarily ran her tongue over her lips, imagining that Cupid’s-bow mouth sliding across hers.
The ice in his eyes shimmered. His fingers slid against the side of her neck. He watched his hand with interest, as though it were moving of its own volition. As though he’d never touched a woman’s neck before. He looked mesmerized. By her. By touching her.
But Caidos were asexual. Right? He’d been unmoved by all those women groping at him, sexy women wearing dresses that gaped right down to their navels with big breasts about to pop out.
He pulled his fingers through her hair, watching it fall back against her collarbone. His thumb trailed from beneath her chin down her throat, settling into the hollow.
She couldn’t breathe. Even though all she could see were his light brown lashes, she was just as spellbound as he. Everything felt surreal, only lights and music and no one else but
them, and the whole place was spinning like one of those revolving restaurants, only faster and—
She reached out and touched his face, and he jerked back as though her fingers were on fire. His arm bumped the man on the other side of him.
“Hey, idiot!” The beefy Deuce’s shoulders puffed, his eyes wobbly with drink. They narrowed when he saw the object of his anger. “What the hell is your kind doing here? Bad enough we have the pretty boy bartender chick magnet.” His gaze shifted to her. “And a Dragon? You two don’t belong here.” He shifted off his stool, ready for trouble.
Her Dragon pulsed at the threat. Archer’s eyes sparked, though his body language hadn’t stiffened into fight mode. He did, however, wrap one hand around her wrist while his eyes remained on the aggressive Deuce. “I belong wherever I am.”
He lunged toward Archer.
Archer’s hand came up so fast she didn’t even see the movement. A bright white light flashed from his palm. The guy dropped to the floor, sending several people scattering. Archer settled back against the bar, and the gawkers, seeing that the show—and threat—was over, returned to their business. A couple of guys dragged the jerk away.
Lyra glanced at the hand still wrapped around her wrist. Seeing her gaze, he released it.
She leaned closer. “Were you restraining me or protecting me?”
“Both.”
Pulled into his gaze again, she had to force out the words, “I don’t need either. I’m perfectly capable of handling myself.”
She could understand being mesmerized by him, the Thrall and all, but he couldn’t seem to pull his gaze from her either. The way he’d run his fingers through her hair and down her throat with wonder…Holy hellfire, had they been about to kiss?
But their attention was drawn away by the bartender as he said, “Here you go, Kye.”
Chapter 4
Archer pushed through the crowd as Kye moved away from the bar.
“Kye.”
His voice stopped her, as much a command as her name. The swirling light in her eyes flared. “Yes?”
