Dragon Intrigues

by Isadora Montrose

  “Ransom? Jinx and Dom asked for ransom?” She discounted Lazarus. Tweekers might provide muscle, but no one would bring them in on management decisions. “I thought that the cops just assumed I was abducted for extortion.”

  “They had a bit of guidance,” he said. “We had to give the authorities some explanation for why we knew where you were being kept. A ransom note fit the bill.”

  “Oh.”

  “And now if you don’t mind, I want to make sure you’re okay.”

  “And how do you plan to do that?”

  He kissed her again. “This calls for a full-body inspection.” Fingers that remembered exactly what pleased her stroked lightly against her throat, while his other hand toyed with the sensitive place at her nape.

  “I’m fine really. Except for the way Dom messed with my aura, they didn’t really hurt me.”

  “Hush,” he whispered. “Relax. I’ve got you.” His arms cradled her and surrounded her with his strength.

  The tension left her body. She kissed him on his chin, obligingly he tugged her higher to meet his lips. She let her hands absorb the heat and sinew of him from chest to crotch, finding both solace and stimulation in his hot hard presence.

  “I can’t wait,” he ground out. He grabbed a condom and quickly rolled it on.

  She tickled his balls. “Me either.” She wanted the feel of his cock inside her confirming the nightmare was over and she was back where she belonged. Belonged? But it was a fact that now Neil was beside her, the terror that had consumed her since Alden Reilly had pulled his gun had dissipated.

  As her legs slid apart, he tugged them up around his waist and thrust deep. She felt every inch of him, rejoiced in the feel of his skin rubbing against hers. In this position sensation threatened to overwhelm her. She linked her heels and hung on as his cock slammed home, pressing hard where she was most swollen and ready. Delight pulsed. His eyes looked deep into hers as his pelvis rocked against hers.

  “Mine,” he swore. “Tell me you’re mine.”

  “I love you,” she vowed, clutching at his broad sheltering shoulders.

  His looming release seemed to trigger hers. She rose off the damp sheets desperate to keep contact. “I’m yours, and you are mine.” Her orgasm slammed through her. Their auras did that merge and meld thing. As she drifted off to sleep in his arms, far off and faint, she thought heard the whistling of a male dragon wooing his mate.

  CHAPTER 54

  Molly~

  “Do you think it’s over?” They were sitting on rocks high above the harbor peeking through the pines at the Pacific sparkling below them. Birds sang in the trees, butterflies flitted, squirrels chittered. It was hard to believe in evil in this idyllic setting.

  Felix was silent so long she guessed his answer was negative. But he surprised her when he spoke. “The boss thinks SPAR has put a spoke in Vector’s wheel. Thanks to your partner.”

  “Vector?”

  “SPAR has code named the paranormal arms syndicate Vector. But stopping them is like trying to stamp out drug dealing. You know how every time you read about some big drug bust, you know it’s only a matter of time before the guys at the top start over elsewhere. Vector is like that. Think slime mold.”

  “At least Blythe and I are out of it now.”

  He shook his head. “Blythe’s probably going to be okay, marrying into a clan of dragons and all. But she was never the one at real risk.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Vector is going to be looking for more staff, seeing as SPAR has corralled their best people and the rest are in prison. Top of their list is a new psi-glass tuner.”

  She gave that some thought. “I guess, but psi-criminals don’t grow on trees. That will give SPAR some breathing space.”

  “What if you’re right and Vector can use dirty-glass to create flats? What would stop them from kidnapping a nice glass tuner from Mystic Bay and turning her into a psi-criminal?”

  She shivered. “You’re scaring me.”

  “Good.” His hazel eyes were serious. “For the foreseeable future, glass talents are going to be at particular risk. I want you to consider that job the boss offered you. Jutway is safe. Seattle is not.”

  “I think that job is just part of your employee benefit package,” she protested. “Not a real position.”

  His jaw set. “I think you overestimate the boss’ interest in my love life, and underestimate his interest in plant psi. The botanical lab is his real passion. I know tuning slides must be a bit boring, but surely not more boring than doing real estate shoots.”

  “It’s not boring at all. I like working with plant materials.” Tuning the slides was engrossing, even if it was busywork.

  He took her hand. Pulled her against him and found her mouth with his. His kiss made the blood fizz in her veins. When they came up for air, her hands were in his hair and his glasses were fogged. Her T-shirt was rucked up around her bra. They were both breathing heavily.

  “Well?” he challenged. “Think you could find something interesting to do on Jutway when you weren’t tuning slides?”

  “I’m way too old for you.”

  He shrugged. “This feels too right to worry about a little age difference. I think you should give us a chance.”

  “A chance to do what?”

  “Fall in love.” He kissed her left hand. “I’d like to give you a ring.”

  “It’s too soon.”

  “Maybe, but I’ll keep asking.”

  They sat in silence until the ferryboat whistle blew.

  “New shipment from SPAR.” Felix sighed. “Colin said they’re sending us a butt-load of untuned dirty-glass.”

  She shuddered. “Perhaps Colin does need a glass tuner in the botanical lab.”

  CHAPTER 55

  Blythe~

  She woke wrapped up in his arms. Fine by her. She was still shaken. He was still a haven. She was still in love with her protective dragon.

  “Good morning, sweetheart.” He kissed her gently, lingeringly. The good morning kiss of a dragon greeting his mate.

  “Do we have to get up?” she whispered.

  “Well, it is two in the afternoon. But we can cuddle for a bit.”

  The events of last night were still a bit muddled. “Hey,” she whispered. “What happened to our wolves?” Even before the cops and EMS had arrived, Sam and Rory had disappeared.

  “I’m guessing, because they didn’t share, but since Packard left with one of the hawks in an Olander vessel, I think he went in pursuit of Dom. And after he searched Jinx, Merritt commandeered the helo SPAR sent. He didn’t say what or who needed finding.”

  “That’s not fair.”

  He kissed her hair and drew her closer. “Our part in this mission is pretty much over.”

  “But the story goes on?”

  “Probably. But we may never find out exactly how it ends. You don’t keep your secrets by blabbing them to people who don’t need to know.”

  That frosted her grits. “Not fair. I nearly got killed. And so did you.”

  Neil chuckled. “I’m just grateful you’re out of it. And back in my arms.”

  “This is true. But I’m still cold clear through.”

  “Not as cold as I feel every time I think of my rabbit in the clutches of those fiends.”

  She shivered. He embraced her tightly. After he had warmed her up from the inside, he held her while she murmured the details of what he called her adventure into his chest. That must be Corps talk for ordeal. She gradually wound down, burrowing into him for warmth.

  His arms tightened. “You’ll be the death of me, Blythe Warren. What possessed you to taunt a couple of whack-jobs like Jinx and Lazarus? They would have happily killed you.”

  “Better dead than dishonored.”

  “Lazarus might have sliced you up before getting his jollies. We took a couple of knives off him. And if they had decided to join forces, you might not be here. To say nothing of your leaping buck-naked down a thirty-f
oot shaft.”

  “Doe-naked,” she joked.

  Neil wasn’t deflected by her feeble attempt at humor. “Promise me you won’t be so reckless ever again.”

  “I’m not planning to get abducted by Bitchy and Twitchy ever again.” But if she was, she’d go with her gut a second time. Better to go down fighting. And death without torture was an improvement over death with torture.

  His arms tightened. “I don’t imagine they’ll get out of jail any time soon.”

  “The cops threw the book at them,” she said with grim satisfaction. “And at those guys out on the water too.” Kidnapping, home invasion, assault and battery, arson, possession of firearms while on probation, theft over $5,000. “It ought to add up to long sentences.”

  “Probably. I don’t know if you heard Lazarus spilling his guts,” he said. “The cops got an earful.”

  It was a comforting thought, but she noted certainty. “Do you really think it’s finally over?”

  “Packard is almost certainly on Dom’s trail as we speak. It’s just a matter of time before SPAR picks him up.”

  “Good. Because that smog thing he had going was bad enough, but his smell and eyes are going to haunt my dreams for a long time. He didn’t ice my aura, Neil, but he certainly destabilized it. I was sure I was going to die.”

  “Hmm.”

  She thumped his chest. “Hey. I know the cops thought I hallucinated half of it, but you know I didn’t. That creature is creepy evil.”

  “I saw him set the house on fire with his eyes myself,” he assured her. “But I’m almost sure that smog you described was part of their psi-weaponry. It billowed out of the chimney and I found it caustic and hallucinatory.”

  She pondered. “Could be. But what kind of shifter can kill with his eyes? What on earth could Dom be? Other than a bogeyman from some horrible story?”

  He sighed. “I wish I knew. Some form of shifter-freak. Not a dragon. He had no forelimbs, just wings.”

  She thought through all the old stories. “A wyvern?”

  “Not with feathered wings. Wyverns are flying snakes, not birds.”

  “A phoenix?” she suggested halfheartedly.

  “I don’t believe so. For one thing, the scent phoenixes exude is incense and sandalwood. Not death.”

  She gave voice to the greatest fear of any resident of Mystic Bay. “A hybrid of some sort?”

  “I can tell you for certain, Buttercup, that freak’s no rabbit-dragon cross.”

  CHAPTER 56

  Two days later,

  Neil~

  The fog was burning off satisfactorily this morning. Of course that soft wispy mist provided good camouflage from aerial reconnaissance. The hawk at the wheel of the Nora Lee had changed position three times overnight, and twice this morning, just in case, but there had been no evidence of enemy surveillance.

  Not that he expected any. Packard was a good man, if he reported that he had Dom nailed down, then the bastard was nailed down. But losing Blythe had left Neil jumping at shadows. He was just as happy to spend a few days hiding out on Olander’s yacht with his mate. Even if he missed being part of that tight little circle of hunters.

  Blythe seemed to be recovering nicely from her adventures. She was eating well, enjoying their love play, and talking cheerfully about the future. It was just that she seemed to sleep such a lot of the time. Not merely a little nap after sex, but full-on sleep. And a full eight hours at bedtime.

  This morning, after breakfast, they had celebrated their reunion below decks, then she had promptly zonked out. That was two hours ago and she was still out.

  “Sir?” It was that youngster Chet who was on duty. The hawks took turns, swapping out every eight hours.

  “How’s it going?”

  “I’ve been sent for,” the boy said eagerly, “they want me like yesterday. I have to leave you alone for an hour or so. My cousin Karan is on his way with supplies. If you could take responsibility for the ship, sir? Just until he arrives.” The kid was practically on his toes with excitement.

  Neil could guess why. Packard wanted Chet’s specialized knowledge of the Seattle real estate scene and database. He could winkle the entire story out of the boy in two seconds, but setting the kid up for a reprimand was unfair.

  Anyway, Chet wouldn’t have been told anything Neil couldn’t guess. Not over the wire. Neil was just at loose ends, missing being part of that tight little team. But no one knew better that when your mission was over, you were out of the loop.

  “Command accepted,” he replied brusquely.

  Chet didn’t notice Neil’s curtness. He had his clothes off in seconds and was a black dot on the horizon in minutes. No point envying the boy. He too had a job to do. Two in fact if you included captaining the vessel. Of course, it was anchored, but he should make sure that everything was shipshape and squared away.

  Chet had left the little helm room in perfect order. Their position was duly noted in duplicate. The radio was receiving but not broadcasting. And the weather forecast was for calm seas and sunshine. He’d believe that when the Pacific Northwest proved it. He checked the anchors and went to see if his mate was awake.

  Blythe was making soft whuffling noises into the pillow. Still. It seemed selfish to wake her just because he had a hard-on. That condition seemed to be his new normal. As if that cock ring had really been sealed to his third leg. He sat on the bunk and enjoyed the sight of his deeply relaxed mate. He filled his lungs with her delicious fragrance.

  She smelled of their most recent encounter and of her own sweet self. She’d want a shower when she woke up, but he loved the scent of her sweat and her pussy. Better than the finest perfume. Was there a new note in it? He took in another deep breath. Yes, there was something richer in her personal aroma.

  He could think of something other than stress which made a woman extra sleepy. And maybe he hadn’t been as careful with her as he could have been. There had been a time or two when he’d woken inside her unsure just how long he’d been soaking in her pussy. Seconds or minutes?

  Nah. Couldn’t be. When you transformed your mate, she transformed right away. Usually in her sleep. Men in his clan did not discuss their mates, not with specifics, but he’d heard tell of ripped sheets and scorched ceilings. That initial transformation hurt. And left the bedding in shreds. And your mate raging mad. Just like when he had come into his dragon at twelve.

  Once you had control of your talent, you didn’t have to worry about destroying your bedroom while you slept. But it took a good few months. He had spent that time in the woods surrounding the Drake Estate in Mystic Bay, camping out in the open where there was privacy for his bellowing and unpredictable shifts.

  She stretched, revealing the edge of one breast. But her face remained stubbornly in the pillow. Was it possible? She had full control of her rabbit. Her changes were rapid and effortless. As neat as that kid Chet’s had been. As swift as his own metamorphoses. He sniffed her behind her ear. Was there a fragrance of dragoness? Pregnant dragoness?

  Blythe rolled onto her back and smiled sunnily up at him. Her hand trailed languidly up his thigh. “Well, hello, big boy,” she purred.

  He paid his respects to her rosy breasts. “Hungry?”

  “Just for you.”

  Her lustfulness matched his own. Had from the start. That wasn’t diagnostic. Suddenly he had no idea how to tell her that they had skipped the part where she gave consent. Better to show than tell. Better to ask forgiveness than permission. He scooped her up and headed for the door.

  “Where are you going?” she squeaked.

  “We’re alone. I thought we’d enjoy some fresh air, my love.”

  “No hawks?”

  “Not for a while.” She still looked uncertain. “Anyway, we’ll hear his boat approach.” He carried her up to the deck. The day was brilliant. The sky still that rare, dazzling blue, the breeze light, the air almost hot. He set her on her feet. “Let’s go in the water,” he suggested.

&nbs
p; “It may be a beautiful day, but the Pacific won’t have gotten the memo.”

  The Pacific would be frigid. “I’ll keep you warm. I want you to shift and go swimming with me.”

  Her eyes rounded. “In rabbit? Because much as I love you, my inner bunny isn’t fond of water or of getting her fur wet.”

  “Trust me.”

  “Well, okay. I guess. But I want out when I say out.”

  “Sure.” He took off his clothes and folded them. “Go ahead, shift.” He was pretty sure she’d turn into a bunny, but he thought there was room for a dragoness here on the stern.

  As quick, as well, a bunny, Blythe became a cottontail. He picked her up. “Trust me.”

  He climbed down the ladder into the water. It was as cold as she had predicted, but he held her out of the waves that lapped against the boat. “I’m going to transform,” he said. “Brace yourself and do what comes naturally.” He let go and let his dragon emerge.

  Blythe squealed in outrage as she dropped into the water. She paddled frantically. And then without warning she turned into a dragoness. A bunny-sized purple-hued dragoness. Her little wings flapped furiously, her tail lashed the water, all four limbs scrambled awkwardly. Her tiny head disappeared beneath the ocean, so only the miniature curved horns showed. He had miscalculated. And his mate was going to drown.

  He was back up the ladder in human at the speed of sound grabbing the rescue net. Blythe popped up to the surface growling furiously and trying to coordinate seven appendages while waves slapped her in the face. He scooped her out apologizing all the while.

  Before he could transfer her to the deck, she grew. Her weight ripped the net and yanked the handle downward. He was left holding a pole, while in the water a half-sized female dragoness raised her lavender snout to the skies and hurled fire toward the seagulls. At least she was aiming away from the Nora Lee.

  His mate was the loveliest dragoness ever created, but she was freezing, furious, and still filling out. Now what?