The Adversary

by Thea Harrison

  But Dragos’s expertise spanned the history of earth itself. His magic could be both delicate and comprehensive. Inevitably, some of the smoke slipped out. Like computer malware, it began to corrode the hold his adversary had on his body.

  The illusion of the forest thinned. He felt pain throbbing in various parts of his body. When he took a breath, he felt his real lungs expand. And he could feel the invader fight savagely against his assault.

  Then a feminine scent reached him. The mating bond snapped back into place. There she was again.

  She whispered in his ear, “Get out here now.”

  It brought him roaring to full consciousness.

  He shook his head to clear it, opened eyes that felt swollen and crusted, and growled, “I’m here.”

  The details of this new scene came clear. He was sitting in a sturdy chair and shackled to it with chains. Hmm, those chains again.

  They seemed disturbingly familiar. Tightening every muscle in his body, he pushed against their confinement, but they didn’t budge. If they had been ordinary shackles, he should have been able to break free.

  Oh, these were definitely familiar.

  Trampled sand lay underneath, and a large canvas tent had been erected around him. Nearby a fire burned in a brazier. He smelled his own sweat and blood.

  Nearby, Rune and Graydon stood tense, expressions hardened into cold, professional masks, clearly ready to intervene if necessary. He jerked his chin up at them, and Rune gave him a slight wary nod in acknowledgment. After that, Dragos focused on Pia.

  She looked drawn. Fine, almost invisible lines bracketed her gorgeous mouth. How much time had passed since the last time he had surfaced?

  He hissed, “Did he touch you?”

  She flinched slightly. It was just a twitch at the corners of her eyes, but it made him so psychotic he almost missed her steady reply. “It wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle.”

  “What did he do to you?” His deep growl made the tent shudder. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Rune and Graydon tense. He said to them, “Get out.”

  They hesitated and looked at Pia, who nodded. “It’s okay. We know he can’t get out of these shackles. Give us some privacy, please.”

  Rune nodded. “We’ll be just outside. Call if you need us.”

  Dragos waited until the other men stepped out. Deep within, he could feel the other entity fighting for control, but he would be damned if he would relinquish his hold on himself while his mate was here and vulnerable. They had too much to say to each other.

  Even though he knew he should focus on the many important things they needed to discuss, only one thing consumed him. He snarled, “What did he do?”

  She met the full blast of his rage with steely calm. “It wasn’t much—a little tongue in a kiss or two, a little T&A. He did exactly what I allowed him to do. I baited him with honey, and he fell for my trap. Because I knew immediately, Dragos. As soon as he opened his eyes, I knew it wasn’t you.” Her gaze ran down the length of his body, and her expression darkened. “Oh baby, I’ve seen you look better.”

  “It’s nothing,” he replied impatiently. When she looked as if she would argue with that statement, he said, “Pia, what they’re doing is working. Don’t let them stop now. His hold has weakened. I’m attacking him from within, and you need to keep up the pressure out here. He can’t fight both of us and win. I’m going to take him down. It’s only a matter of time.”

  The first fracture appeared in her composure, and her lips trembled. As she pressed them together and nodded, he softened his voice and murmured, “Come here.”

  She complied by straddling his lap and wrapping her arms around his neck. Hungry for every sensual detail, he nuzzled her neck and inhaled her scent deeply, while she ran her fingers through his short hair.

  “You scared the living daylights out of me,” she said between her teeth. “One minute we were walking along having a creepy and yet somewhat enjoyable moment, and the next minute you convulsed and collapsed. I couldn’t feel you. Our bond had disappeared. I thought you were dead.”

  “I’m so sorry you went through that,” he murmured. What if he had been the one to watch her collapse? To feel her presence disappear, along with the mating bond? A chill of horror ran underneath his skin, making his muscles quiver. He had never been good at empathy, but she constantly taught him more.

  The delicate skin of her neck was exactly what he needed. He pressed his lips to the light pulse beating a rapid rhythm and her arms tightened.

  Then she leaned back to examine him. “You really do look like shit.”

  He shrugged that off. Bruises were bruises. Pain was pain. The most important thing was that it had a purpose. “You look like the best thing I’ve ever seen. I need to eat you up.”

  A reluctant smile tugged at the edges of her lips. “What, are you flirting with me here? Now?”

  “Here and always, lover. That’s a promise.” The part of him that inclined to wickedness wanted to urge her to take off her shirt, but if he lost control, he didn’t want the adversary to see her unclothed.

  Angling his head, he leaned forward to kiss her, but with one hand flattened on his chest she pushed him back. Frowning, she studied his face, his eyes. “Can the invader see or sense what we’re saying and doing right now?”

  He shook his head. “I’m convinced he can’t. We can sometimes sense each other as shadowy presences, but even still we can’t really see each other. When he has control of my body, I’m completely blocked from all physical sensation. He had trapped me in a dream. That was what I woke up to. It took me a while to work through that spell and to discover that not only were my surroundings an illusion, but my body wasn’t real either. Otherwise, I would have surfaced sooner.”

  “You’re here now. That’s all that matters.” She closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against his. “We had hoped the null spell shackles would dislodge him.”

  Irritation roughed his voice. “Aryal was supposed to have destroyed them. I’m going to strangle her.”

  “You’re going to have to get in line. She’s been working everybody’s last nerve.” She spoke absentmindedly as her fingers twisted in his shirt. “You’re sure he can’t sense us?”

  Dragos checked himself carefully. “I don’t know how long this is going to last, but for the moment, yes. What is it?”

  Digging into her jeans, she pulled out a small pocketknife, opened it, and pressed the tip to the ball of her thumb until it pierced the skin. As a small amount of bright blood welled from the tiny wound, she laid her thumb against a burn on his forearm.

  They both watched as the burn mark healed. Bright, delicate energy traveled over his body, and every one of his wounds healed. She pointed to his arm. “Why does my Power work in spite of the null spell shackles, but your magic doesn’t? You can’t shapeshift either. And why didn’t the shackles knock that interloping asshole out of your body? How are you two doing whatever it is you’re doing to each other?”

  “Your Power is an attribute, not an active spell. It simply exists, and my body responded by healing,” he said thoughtfully. “Shapeshifting is an ability, but it’s more like an active spell. It magically alters physical reality.”

  “I don’t get the difference. Those wounds disappearing is a magically altered reality.” She snapped the knife shut and slipped it back into her pocket.

  “One is magically passive. The other is magically active. That’s the only difference I can see.” He shook his head. “Or maybe you’re unique, and nobody else’s attributes would work. You’re certainly unique in other ways. As far as my fight with my intruder, that’s an internal struggle. It isn’t magically altering physical reality. Until we have more to go on, that’s the theory I’m going to work with. When we get out of this, I want to study these shackles a lot more closely.”

  He certainly wasn’t going to be stupid enough to give them to Aryal again. Fool me once, motherfucker.

  She shrugged, clearly irri
tated by the subject, and put her hands on his cheeks. Framing his face, she looked deeply into his gaze. “You said it was just a matter of time. How long before you expel him?”

  Chapter Three

  Calculation flashed in Dragos’s gold eyes. Pia framed his cheeks with her hands and watched the minute changes in his hard expression.

  God, she loved his face. He was both handsome and scary at once. The sheer ruthlessness that could take over his hard features had a purity that fascinated her. He was not burdened in the slightest by the many things that consume modern males—self-doubt, misogyny, insecurity, fear of their own vulnerability, the need to soul search about their morality or question their existence.

  For all Dragos’s irritating qualities (and as much as she adored him, she had to admit he had, shall we say, more than a few), his soul had a purity that she had never found in any other creature. If you were the rare, lucky person who achieved his inner circle, he would protect you to death and beyond.

  If you were on the outside, he might deign to tolerate you, but he would keep watch. And if you showed yourself to be unreliable or traitorous in any way, God help you, because he didn’t forgive and he never forgot, and he might exercise all the patience in the world, but he would sure as hell find a way to get even.

  And he was singularly untroubled by the possibility of going to war. In fact, she would swear he thrived on it. War involved tactics and strategy, a kill or be killed mentality, and sometimes it provided the opportunity to acquire loot or tribute, and on a very elemental level that appealed to the dragon.

  More often than not these days, he chose to take the more peaceful route when he could, but she was convinced that was only because he now had a family. Dragos tried to avoid war out of courtesy to her, but if it was unavoidable?

  You bet your ass he would relish the hell out of it.

  And while Pia was pretty much Dragos’s opposite in just about every way, she was also pragmatic enough to acknowledge that sometimes war was unavoidable, as it was now.

  “Two days, max, I think,” he said after a thoughtful moment. Focusing on her, he added gently, “Maybe sooner, but I can’t promise. I know that’s not what you want to hear.”

  Momentarily at a loss for words, she shook her head and pressed her lips to his hard mouth. His lips softened and caressed hers, so she lingered, helpless to pull away, drawing on the comfort of the moment as hard as she had drawn on the hug with Liam.

  Here was the magic they created between them: time fell away, danger was inconsequential, and all the tragedies in the world became bearable. As long as she had her mate, she could survive anything.

  But even the best of kisses had to end sometime.

  As she reluctantly pulled away, she told him in a husky voice, “Two days is a freaking miracle compared to when I thought you were dead.”

  “I understand.” His reply was just as husky. He cleared his throat and looked as if he might say more, but just then the muscles in his big body twitched, and fury clenched his face and body.

  “Oh, no, no.” She gripped his shoulders with frantic strength as if she would hold him into his body by sheer emotion. “I’m not done talking yet—”

  “Get off,” he snarled.

  She recoiled—he had never talked to her in such a vicious tone of voice before—and lost her balance and slid off his lap. As she scrambled to her feet, she stared at him…

  …and watched the fury in his gold eyes fade to amber. Dragos’s feral viciousness faded as well. Oh, no, baby. No.

  “Lady wife,” said the thing in Dragos’s deep voice. “How delightful to see you again. Our previous conversations were cut far too short.”

  She slapped the sand off her butt. “Fuck you.”

  “You were quite right. Your husband’s body is very strong. He has stamina. That pleases me so much,” he purred. “Do you miss him? Do you miss this?”

  Even though he was bound so thoroughly he couldn’t gesture, he glanced down at his crotch where an erection strained, and she had never wanted to kill someone as badly as she wanted to kill him. It.

  Raising her voice, she said, “Guys. Time to come back.”

  Rune and Graydon slammed into the tent again so fast it was clear they had been listening in the whole time. The gryphons moved like the predators they were, laser focused on Dragos’s bound figure.

  Graydon put a hand on Pia’s shoulder. Telepathically, he asked, You okay, cupcake?

  She wished he hadn’t done that, because a part of her wanted to wail and fall into Graydon’s arms, and she would not show any weakness in front of this creature. Steeling her spine, she gave him a curt nod.

  “Resume,” she ordered. Even though Rune’s eyes were as flat and unrevealing as his expression, she ached for what she asked them to do. Technically Rune no longer worked for Dragos. He was only here because Dragos was one of his best friends.

  And because there was nothing more dangerous in the world than a dragon gone renegade.

  “Still don’t feel like talking? You’re making a mistake,” the thing said to her in Dragos’s voice. “You should always parley with the enemy. You never know when the offer might be rescinded.”

  “You have nothing to say that I’m interested in hearing.” She made herself meet his amber gaze coldly, no matter how much it enraged and hurt her. “You don’t matter.”

  “Oh, but I do,” the thing replied. “You see, I hold custody of your husband’s body, and try as they might, they can’t drive me out. And this internal battle he and I have been waging has been most enlightening. I learn more about him with every encounter. I know his weaknesses now.”

  “Stop listening,” Rune told her. “Now, Pia.”

  At the same time Graydon’s hand tightened on her shoulder and he pressed her in the direction of the tent’s exit. But even though she knew Rune and Gray were right, she couldn’t tear her gaze away from the monstrosity in front of her.

  “I’m going to kill him,” the thing told her softly. “And the only way you’ll be able to find comfort in your husband’s arms is if I’m holding you. The only way you’ll feel his cock inside you again is—”

  Rage swept over her. Tearing herself away from Graydon, she launched herself at the Dragos thing and punched him in the mouth so hard his teeth tore her knuckles and his head whipped back. Straightening, he started to laugh while blood poured from his split lips. She punched him again with the full strength of her torso behind it, and this time his laughter stopped.

  “You think what my men are going to do to you is as bad as it gets?” she hissed. “Forget about them. Forget about my husband. I’m the one you’ve got to worry about. I’m going to destroy you so thoroughly your name will never be rediscovered.”

  The disgusting caress in his gaze vanished and he glared at her balefully. “You’re going to regret this, you stupid whore. I’m going to make your husband wail like an infant before he dies.”

  Two days. Dragos had promised. But what if he was wrong?

  She went more than a little crazy at the thought.

  “You’re dust in the wind, asshole,” she snarled. “You hear me? You’re dust and nobody cares.”

  Graydon snaked an arm around her waist. She pushed at him, but he bodily lifted her away from Dragos and carried her out of the tent.

  The cooler air outside washed over her overheated skin, but the raging lunatic that had taken over her body wasn’t finished. “Gray, I’m going to murder him if I have to tear open Dragos’s body to do it.”

  “I know you will, sweetheart,” he said soothingly. He set her on her feet. “Try to get a grip now.”

  “Don’t soothe me!” she raged. “I’ll get a grip when I’m good and ready, goddammit!”

  As she turned to charge back into the tent, she caught sight of several people who stood nearby, watching.

  Liam stood with Khalil and a man and woman. The woman had a distinctive beauty and famous, familiar features, with pale skin and dark hair. Partly
turned away, she studied the lake with a frown. The tall, handsome man beside her employed no such discretion. He regarded Pia with sober sympathy.

  The infamous sorcerer Morgan le Fae had arrived, along with his musician partner Sidonie.

  But their presence wasn’t what brought her back to herself. It was the sight of Liam, standing with his arms crossed as he hugged his torso tightly, that drove a spike into the nutcase she had become.

  The return to sanity was like a bucket of icy water hitting her in the face. She felt the blood in her body throb, the pain in her right hand, the desolation of not knowing if Dragos was right about breaking free and making his way back to her.

  But there was no other choice than to trust in her mate. Literally none.

  Graydon touched her arm tentatively, breaking the tableau. “It’s all right,” she told him quietly. “I’m pulling it together.”

  “I’ll stay if you need me,” he murmured.

  “No, that’s okay.” She gave him a twisted smile. “Rune needs you more. Keep me posted.”

  “Will do.” With a glance at the newcomers, Graydon strode back into the tent.

  Pia focused on Liam. First things first. “I’m sorry you saw me lose it like that.”

  He shook his head. “Are you… what can I do?”

  “Darling, you already did it.” She strode forward. “Khalil, once again, thank you for everything you’ve done. I owe you any favor you need, whenever you ask. No expiration date.”

  The imperious Djinn regarded her with a sparkling, diamondlike gaze. “Over the time my Grace and I have been together, she has taught me that there’s no need for an exchange of favors among family.”

  That was such a staggeringly generous thing for a Djinn to say, she had to swallow past a thickness in her throat. “That may be so, but you still have all of my gratitude. If there’s anything I can ever do for you, I’ll do it gladly.”

  He acknowledged that with a slight bow.

  Then she turned to the waiting pair. “Morgan and Sidonie, thank you coming on such short notice.”