Dance of the Dragon

by Kira Nyte

  She scrutinized him through narrowed eyes. He never asked for a specific person to serve him. He didn’t have favorites. Everyone who worked in the club was pleasant and great at what they did.

  “Give me a minute.”

  Taryn kept his smile, but the surge of protectiveness he felt as Suzanne approached Gabriella turned his smile hard. Whatever she said made Gabriella’s surprise shift to frustration as she looked over at him.

  “What are you trying to do, Taryn?”

  Ahh. He like the intimacy of their mind-speak, and was glad she latched onto it so quickly. “Have you come closer.”

  “Yeah, sure. My boss is anything but happy.”

  He noticed. Suzanne’s shoulders went ridged the second she stepped into the back to take Gabriella’s place. “Then come here. She won’t hover.”

  “Right. You’re really out to cost me a job, aren’t you.”

  “Angel, the last thing I want to do is bring ill to you.” His smile faded. “Would you feel more comfortable if I left?”

  Her eyes widened. The instant resistance he felt over the bond to the thought of him leaving was a balm. She hurried to finish her current ticket while Suzanne watched over her. But she did have a point. He didn’t want to make things difficult for her with her boss when she was already so stressed.

  “Laura,” Taryn called out. The young feline shifter acknowledged him with a wave, placed drinks on the bar in front of two other patrons, and hurried to him. “Listen, I have to go.” He pulled out two hundred-dollar bills and handed them over. “One for you, one for the new one on board. Make sure she gets it, and no one else.”

  Laura winked. “’Course, handsome. See you soon!”

  “What are you doing? Where are you going?”

  Taryn pressed two fingers to his mouth in a subtle kissing gesture. “I’ll be here when you’re done. You’re not walking these streets alone at night. Until later, angel. And accept my tip or we’ll have a little tiff.”

  He left the club, his body singing with riled hunger, his cock raging hard, and his mind a whirl of thoughts. The cool night air sizzled against his skin and did nothing to temper his relentless need.

  Now he understood the murderous torture Syn went through when he met Briella. The insatiable desire that conquered reason with Alazar when he found his lifemate, Ariah.

  Now he understood firsthand how the power of the connection could go beyond the feud of family. Janice may be Gabriella’s mother—an egg-carrier, to his mind, as so many women considered dead-beat men sperm donors—but it was Corvin who lived and flourished inside his daughter. The more time Taryn spent around her, the more he recognized his late Keeper’s qualities in her.

  The more his heart ached with the resurgence of grief and helplessness for not being able to save him.

  * * *

  He decided to hang at a small eatery a few doors down and opposite from The Spotted Cat. He could keep an eye on the club and any possible threat of Baroqueth presence while he waited—impatiently—for Gabriella to get off work. He should have given her his cell number before leaving. He could do that now. It would be an excuse to return to the club. Give his craving a little more fuel.

  Instead, he tried to focus his attention on the threat reemerging from the shadows. He sent a text to Syn, updating him on the latest sighting of their enemies, and suggested he try to contact Cade, their clan head. The damn dragon took more than an hour to return his text with a phone call.

  “Why didn’t you say anything earlier?” Syn asked by way of greeting, his tone anything but pleased.

  Taryn glanced at his watch. “I did. About an hour ago.”

  Syn grunted. “I was preoccupied.”

  “Seems to be the norm lately.”

  “Seems you’ll be changing your own routine soon, brother.” A soft moan filtered through the phone.

  “Damn it, Syn. Are you still going at it while you have me on the phone?”

  “Calm your testosterone. She’s asleep.” The sound of shifting fabric followed over the line, then a quiet sigh. “Hold on.”

  “Don’t have much of a choice,” Taryn muttered, lifting his gaze to the window that perfectly framed the club’s entrance. He bounced a knee, anxious to see Gabriella. Patience had never been his strong suit. “This is brutal.”

  “What? The wait? Or something else?” Syn asked, his voice low.

  “Everything.” He swirled his straw around the glass of iced tea. “In a few hours, the fog clears and I see her as I should’ve seen her last night. Before my judgmental side got the best of me.”

  Syn chuckled. “That’s the way it goes. At least you recognized your mistake and can fix it. Speaking of, have you done anything to try to rectify your relationship?”

  “All day long.”

  “So that’s why you’ve been missing. Makes sense now. And, I take it, you crossed paths with some slayers while out professing your shortcomings?”

  “Aren’t you the comedian of the hour?” Taryn sat back in the chair and stretched his legs out beneath the small table. At this hour, the small restaurant served a spattering of customers. Staff were going through the nightly closing routine. Dishes, pots, and pans clattered in the kitchen. Taryn eyed the check the server had left on his table. He wasn’t ready to leave. What the hell would he do with himself for the next few hours until his lifemate was free to leave The Spotted Cat? “Two. Two slayers. Somehow, they found Gabriella.”

  “Were you stalking her, my friend?”

  Taryn grit his teeth at the irony. He’d lectured Syn quite thoroughly on the definition of stalking and why it was frowned upon in the modern world when it came to females. Lo and behold, here he was following in his friend’s footsteps, disregarding his own sage advice.

  “Surveillance. It’s different.”

  “Uh-huh. Interesting play. I’ll keep it in mind.” Taryn heard a click on Syn’s end, followed by a sharp exhale. “I was thinking about taking Briella back to The Hollow tomorrow evening. Give you some time with your lifemate without us encroaching on the house.”

  “Well, Gabe is crashing the party tonight anyway. Called a little while back. Something about a lead on his Keeper. Didn’t get into details.” Taryn dug out his wallet and dropped cash on the check as the server made a round of the tables. “For the same reason I asked you to contact Cade. Can’t discuss things in public and it’s pretty imperative he’s made aware.”

  Syn cleared his throat. “Can’t be too imperative if it’s taken you all day to ask me to contact him.”

  “Shut it.”

  Syn laughed. “What our women do to us.”

  Taryn scowled, his gaze lifting in time to see a new group of rowdy patrons cram through the club’s double doors, laughing and fist-bumping. Human males, young ones. His skin bristled with the telltale feel of his scales pushing to the surface. Mortals had no idea what they were walking into at The Spotted Cat after the sun went down. Sadly, neither did Gabriella. He’d not-so-subtly staked his claim. Other than the fact it was what he wanted to do, it had another purpose. Every man in that club who knew Taryn understood he’d end up skinned and roasted if he dared make a move on Taryn’s woman.

  Those same men would warn other paranormal creatures of Taryn’s claim.

  The mortals? Not so much. The crowd that frequented The Spotted Cat would get a thrill out of any stumbles made by humans. If it were any other woman, any other circumstance, he’d save the clueless mortals from themselves.

  Not with Gabriella. Not with his lifemate.

  “Wow, this silence is…uncanny. Dare I say it’s your turn for ‘explosive’?”

  The server took Taryn’s money and returned to the cashier.

  “I think I’m going to have my work cut out for me. She’s a puzzle I have to solve before we can move forward.”

  “Start with Janice. I think you’ll find most of your missing pieces there.”

  He clenched his fist at the mention of that demoness. Goddess, the joy h
e’d get when he cut the wench off from Gabriella completely.

  If Gabriella let him.

  From the little he’d learned about his lifemate, she was long overdue for freedom and happiness. There was too much self-loathing and depression inside her for a woman with her beauty and fire.

  He made it his goal to give her what her mother apparently failed to give.

  He came to attention as Gabriella emerged from the club, head down, hand tight around her purse and clothing bag.

  “Get in touch with Cade for me. And don’t give Gabe a show. I’ll see you in a bit,” Taryn said, practically jumping out of his seat. He ended the call without giving Syn time to respond, his gaze locked on the blond angel weaving between pedestrians on the sidewalk, shoulders hunched.

  Taryn slipped into the night as Gabriella rushed past the eatery, none the wiser when he fell in step behind her. He took a few minutes to observe her, the tension that rode her muscles, leaving faint tremors in its path. She carelessly dug into her purse and removed a prescription bottle, popped open the lid, jostled out two white pills, and shoved them in her mouth.

  He caught sight of the label in the split moment the bottle twisted toward him. The dragon roared with anger. He swallowed back a wave of frustration.

  What ghosts did Gabriella fight that she needed to take anti-anxiety medication? And by the sound of the rattling in her purse, he suspected she had more than one pill bottle in her possession.

  He should’ve looked when he had her purse the night before.

  With a shake of his head, he slashed that regret away. He wasn’t one to invade another’s personal space.

  He quickened his pace to come within a few steps of her. “Gabriella.”

  She jerked around so fast, she lost her balance on her heels. He whipped his arms around her, saving her from a fall. Her eyes went wide, her mouth agape, her hands fisted in his shirt.

  “Everything okay? I didn’t think you’d be leaving so early.”

  Her eyes cut away from him. She moved mindlessly until she regained her footing and clutched her purse close. Her thoughts ran so wild and uncontrolled he felt an answering churn in his gut. Like a mortal might feel on a violently rocking ship at sea.

  “I-I…” She raked a hand though her hair, tearing strands from her messy up-do. With a fierce shake of her head, she turned away and resumed her march.

  Taryn hesitated, baffled by her demeanor. What on earth…?

  He lunged after her, catching her arm with one hand and spinning her back around to face him. Whatever he was going to ask was lost when he caught the pain that moved across her face. Instead, he gently cupped the back of her head, pulled her close, and claimed her mouth with a tender kiss.

  She stiffened, her body arching into his. Her hands grabbed his hips. He thought she’d push him away, close her mouth off to him, close herself down.

  Instead, she whimpered as he stroked her tongue, seeking to give her calm, assurance.

  The battle to keep himself under control was one he fought with every ounce of willpower he could muster. Each sweep of his tongue was patient, gentle, a silent promise of safety and security. Her response was timid, uncertain, yet needy. Despite the hint of the pills she’d just taken, her lips tasted of strawberries that made him want to lick, tease, and then devour.

  Her fingers loosened their fierce grip on his shirt. The stiffness in her muscles eased as he deepened his kiss. As much as he wanted to turn her back to the closest wall and ravage her, he kept himself locked down. Whatever worked to destroy her so vehemently, he would learn, conquer, and leave in the past.

  Her hands slipped up to his shoulders.

  Her head turned down, ending the kiss. Taryn kept his eyes closed against the dragon, breathing control into his otherwise raging body. He pressed his lips to her bowed head, now tucked against his chest. Her heart raced in her chest. Her breaths were nothing but shallow gasps.

  After a long silence, Gabriella stepped back. Her face twisted with more pain, more regret and shame than had haunted her expression before he kissed her. Her eyes shimmered and her chin quivered.

  “Gabr—”

  “No.” She shook her head. “You don’t get it. I don’t deserve you. Lifemate or not, you don’t want a woman like me. No one wants a woman like me.”

  Sweet goddess, the wretched agony in those quiet, shaky words stunned him, a proverbial blade impaled through his gut. It stunned him long enough for her to spin and dash away. Pedestrians parted around him, paying him no heed as they hurried to their own destinations.

  He should follow her. She had no idea what monsters lurked in the streets of New Orleans. What target blazed on her back.

  Yet he couldn’t bring himself to shake off the shock and horror of her words and that dimming light in her eyes.

  Like the fire in her soul was slowly suffocating.

  A squawk overhead drew his attention.

  He spotted Talib on a nearby rooftop. One beady black eye flashed red in the night before the crow launched itself into the air and followed Gabriella.

  Whatever demons she fought, he refused to let her fight them alone. Whatever nightmares she faced, he would be there to wake her from. Whatever beast tried to constrict the life from her spirit, by the Goddess, he would defeat it with his bare hands.

  “My sweet angel. You are not alone.”

  Chapter Ten

  Somehow, she kept herself together the entire run home. Tears burned her eyes as the cold soaked into her skin. Her lips pulsed with electricity from a forbidden kiss. A kiss that gave her hope.

  A kiss she wanted again.

  She hated kisses. Hated touches. Hated anything sexual. She feared the bedroom. Feared the pain that accompanied intimacy. Her mother had taught her well.

  She climbed the steps of the trailer and pushed into the poor excuse for a home—and stopped in the doorway, bile pushing up to the back of her mouth. She spun away from the kitchenette and bolted to the empty bedroom.

  “Oh, Jesus, girl!” her mother yelled. “Like you haven’t sucked a man’s dick before!”

  “Little Prudette, ain’t she? Go get that girl and show ’er what to do, Jan. You promised me a taste of her,” Jack mocked.

  Gabby slammed the flimsy door shut and sank to the floor against it, curling her knees into her chest. Tears streamed down her face as she struggled to hold back the sobs that tried to burst from her chest.

  Her mother. The woman who was supposed to care for her, protect her. The woman who shredded her morality, her confidence.

  She stole everything from Gabby. She wasn’t going to hear her cry.

  Curled up against the door, she was forced to listen to the screams and shouts, the slaps and vile sexual demands. The trailer rocked at times, making her face burn. It wasn’t the first time she’d suffered through such an ordeal. It wouldn’t be the last.

  At least she wasn’t in the same room this time.

  She should’ve run back out of the trailer as soon as she saw them, but she couldn’t bring herself to let Taryn witness her weakness again. And what if those Baroqueth people found her? What would she do then? It wasn’t like she could return to the club.

  Laura had given her Taryn’s tip, but Suzanne snatched the money from her hand and told her it belonged to the pool tips. Suzanne’s unpleasant demands increased, adding to her anxiety, and it didn’t help that she could hear the horrible, jealous thoughts in the minds of some of the other staff.

  When a customer reached through the window and grabbed Gabby’s ass as she restocked a few of the liquor bottles, she lost it. Her fear stole every bit of reason, leaving her a hyperventilating, whimpering mess. She couldn’t make sense of the activity around her. The questions the other women asked were nothing but noises.

  She did the only thing she’d learned to do.

  Run.

  As the moans from the front of the trailer died down, Gabby swiped an arm across her face, hastily drying her tears. She’d make it throug
h tonight. Tomorrow, she’d look for a new job. Maybe a restaurant with lunch hours. The tips might not be as great, but she could keep her sanity in check more easily. Hopefully.

  The doorknob jiggled. “Open the fucking door.”

  Gabby sighed, fanning her face dry as she pushed up onto her feet. Jack pounded on the door, startling her away from the only barrier between her and the stark truth of her life. Reluctantly, she unlocked the door and pulled it open.

  Jack’s dark gaze razed her. He licked his lips, sweat glistening on his naked body. He reeked of sex, smoke, and cheap perfume. Lipstick marked his skin.

  He winked, his hand slowly stroking himself as he said softly, so only she could hear, “Betchya you’re better than your mama, doll. Wanna show me?”

  Gabby shuffled backwards. Trapped. She was trapped in a box with a snake preparing to strike.

  “Aww, baby doll. You’ll like it. Promise.”

  “Get…away.”

  No fight in her voice. Only a shaky whisper as she backed into the corner of the room. Jack chuckled, stepped closer.

  She never saw his hand whip up until his fingers fisted in her hair so tight she cried out. He forced her to her knees in front of him.

  “Now—”

  “Fuck off her, Jack. You’ve gotten enough tonight.”

  Her mother barged into the room, naked and sex-strewn, and smacked him upside the head. He immediately backed away from Gabby with a scowl.

  “Bitch, you’d better play nice with me if I’m walking away from her.”

  “Don’t threaten me. Remember, I’m keeping you outta the slammer.” Janice smacked him again, this time on the arm. “Get. Leave her alone.”

  He muttered a slew of curses, but obeyed. Janice sighed and shook her head.

  “I’ve got some good pills, girl. It’ll make it easy to play along.”

  Gabby shook her head, trying to hide the trembling as her mother peered down at her with glazed eyes. She was high on something, Gabby was certain. She remained on the floor, sitting back on her heels, unwilling to move or speak. She didn’t trust her voice not to betray her weakness. She hated it when her mother stood in front of her naked.