Drakon's Knight

by N. J. Walters

  He was here with her, he was possessive, and he obviously wanted her. It was enough. She’d damn well make it enough.

  “Are you okay?” His deep voice reverberated, sending another spasm of pleasure rocketing through her. “I was a bit rough.” He might need lessons in communication, but the man knew how to make love to a woman.

  “I’m good.” Snuggling closer, she traced the tattoos on his chest, the birthmark and the ones he’d had inked onto his skin on purpose. She recognized some of the symbols as protective. In her years with the Knights, she’d learned a few things. And in the two weeks she’d been back, she’d been sifting through the family records her grandmother had sequestered away. It was a trove of lore. It was also dangerous and had to be dealt with appropriately. There was no way she could allow it to fall into the wrong hands.

  It was up to Jericho and his friends what they’d do with it. She was leaving that decision in their hands.

  Karina pushed upright until she was leaning against the headboard and pulled one of the blankets over her. “So, what now?” No sense in putting things off.

  Jericho sighed and sat up, facing her. “Now, we destroy the Knights. After that…” He shrugged. “We’ll make plans.”

  “I see.” She wasn’t about to ask if those plans included her.

  His frown was severe as he tugged his jeans back into place, dug into his front pocket, and pulled something out. “Here.”

  When he simply held his fist out and waited, she put out her hand. He opened his fingers and a short chain dropped out. She caught it before it fell to the mattress. The chain was thick rose gold. Attached to it was a pendant made up of two large gemstones, one hanging under the other, linked by a thinner gold chain. She brought the piece closer to the light and gasped at the blood-red color of the stones. They were rubies. On closer inspection, she could see stars reflected in their depths.

  “It’s beautiful,” she murmured. “Where did you get it?” When he remained silent, she turned back to find him watching her with an odd look in his eyes. “Jericho?”

  “Do you know what a drakon tear is?”

  Of course she did. They were prized by many of the Knights. “A drakon rarely cries and only for love,” she quoted. “I never knew if that was truth or myth.”

  He took the chain from her, undid the clasp, and placed it around her neck. It settled with the first drakon tear resting at the base of her throat and the second one dangling almost to her cleavage. It was more like a choker with a dangling pendant.

  “It’s the truth. A drakon only cries when his heart is breaking. Only cries for love. These are the only tears I’ve ever shed.” He cupped her jaw in his hand. “And they are yours.”

  He’d shed them for her. Her throat closed up, and all she could do was nod.

  “The first one was soon after we met, when I knew you were meant to be mine, but I thought I’d have to kill you. The second one came after I’d sent you away.” He brushed aside a tear that seeped from the corner of her eye. “I spent several days in New Mexico and had a jeweler I know there make this for me.”

  “It’s beautiful. I’ll treasure it always.” The gems were warm against her skin. They were rubies, which meant he was a fire drakon, as each kind of drakon had gemstones unique to them.

  He was a big man, a rough one. One who showed no weakness to the world. But he let down his guard around her, shedding precious and rare drakon tears.

  “You’re it for me. You’re my mate.”

  She stilled and her throat went dry. She not only listened to what he was saying, she heard what he meant. He’d given her his only drakon tears and called her his mate. That was his declaration of love.

  “You’ll drink my blood when necessary to stay young. I won’t let you go.” Not a question, an order. Her drakon might have trouble with the actual words, but his actions spoke volumes. Whether he’d ever admit it aloud, he loved her.

  Heart soaring, she threw herself into his arms. “I don’t want to go anywhere without you.” She’d been alone all her life. Now she had Jericho and an odd family of sorts.

  He took her back down to the bed and rolled until she was sprawled out on top of him. “You’ll never be without me again.” The fire in his eyes was filled with passion, the rubies around her neck, his pledge of forever.

  Leaning down, she kissed him to seal their promise.

  Epilogue

  The financial destruction of the Knights of the Dragon was easier to accomplish than she’d ever imagined. But they hadn’t done it alone. Jericho had reached out to another drakon named Tarrant. Apparently, he was Jericho’s blood brother, one he’d never met. They had different mothers but had shared the same dragon sire.

  Even more shocking, he had three more half brothers.

  Unfortunately, she’d recognized the name of one of them. Darius Varkas had been on her radar quite some time ago when another Knight had moved on him. He had no reason to like or trust her.

  His dislike of her had been a sticking point with Jericho’s other blood brothers. But Jericho and his friends—even Sadiq—had stood their ground, explaining her unique circumstances. It had taken time to build up even a modicum of trust, but between them all, they’d taken over or dismantled all of the other Knights’ businesses.

  It was a huge blow, but not a killing one. Many of them would have other stashes of money and gold. At the same time she’d been leading the charge to take over or dismantle their financial empires, Jericho and the others had attacked the Knights in their own homes. The raids had been fast and furious. Many of the Knights had fled their ornate mansions and gone underground, leaving their men to fight, flee, or die.

  The Knights would regroup and come after her and the drakons at some point. Enoch had assured her that with Tarrant’s help, they’d keep an eye on all of them, draining their resources faster than they could accumulate them.

  The second half of the takedown had happened when Jericho and Sadiq had shifted and used their drakon fire to incinerate manuscripts, books, and artifacts that had been recovered from each home, including her own. Many people would have cried to see such priceless items destroyed. She hadn’t shed a tear.

  None of them could ever be used against the man she loved, or his family.

  “Nervous?” Jericho wrapped his arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head.

  “Some.” They were meeting his blood brothers in person for the first time. She didn’t call them his real brothers. In her mind, Sadiq, Enoch, and Khalil filled that role. They’d been crisscrossing the country for about a week, directed to one location and then another before finally ending up in an isolated area of the Cascade Mountains. The other drakons wanted to make sure they weren’t being set up.

  Karina respected them for that.

  She patted his arm, and when he released her, she turned to face him. They were both wearing jeans and leather jackets. She had discovered she no longer liked suits and fancy clothes. They were a reminder of a past she wanted to forget.

  Her homes in Boston and New York were on the market, and she expected an offer any day. Her former personal staff had all fled or been dismissed. She still held the reins of all her businesses and had them in an iron grip. In a quick raid on her secret lab, they’d seized and destroyed every record, every drug that could be used against a drakon.

  Then the five of them had hit the road. It surprised her how much she enjoyed seeing the country from the back of a Harley. She had a new sense of freedom and purpose. One that suited her.

  Reaching up, she touched the ruby nestled at the base of her throat and then the one that dangled beneath. The necklace was a talisman, a reminder of Jericho’s love for her.

  “Someone is coming,” Sadiq called out as he came toward them. Khalil and Enoch flanked them. Karina took a deep breath and tried to calm her frayed nerves.

  A large truck, which had seen better days, came down the dirt road and stopped a fair distance away. The door opened, and a big
man got out. This had to be Tarrant.

  …

  Jericho took a step forward, ready to defend Karina if necessary. He should have stashed her somewhere for this first face-to-face meeting, but figured she’d be safer with him in the long run.

  “Tarrant?”

  “Yeah.”

  Jericho smirked. His brother was a man of few words. They stood and studied each other for quite some time, neither of them ready or willing to make the first move. In that way, they were a lot alike.

  The passenger door was shoved open, and a woman climbed out. Tarrant scowled and rushed around the vehicle. “I told you to stay inside.”

  “No. I want to see her.”

  Karina gasped and pushed her way around Jericho. “Valeriya?”

  He inwardly swore. This was Karina’s sister, the one she’d had men hunting for when she’d been under Svetlana’s influence.

  “Is it really you?” Karina took a step forward, stopping when Tarrant frowned at her. Jericho bristled and moved alongside his mate. The resemblance between the women marked them as sisters. They both had black hair and green eyes, though Valeriya was curvier.

  “Karina.” He heard the quaver in her voice. “Is it true? What they said about grandmother, the tattoo, the drugs?”

  “Yes.” That was all she said. She didn’t try to defend herself or justify her actions. He stepped behind her and wrapped his arms around her in a show of support. His friends formed a semicircle around them, creating a united front.

  “I knew there was good in you.” Valeriya took a step forward. Tarrant tried to stop her, but she scowled at him. “She’s my sister.”

  “She tried to kill you. Or rather the man she sent after you did,” Tarrant reminded her.

  “And for that, I’m sorrier than I can say. I loved you.” Karina cleared her throat. “I love you.”

  Sensing what she needed, Jericho released her, and the two women stumbled toward each other. When Karina hesitated, the younger woman reached out and pulled her into her arms. Then they were both laughing and crying at the same time as the men watched.

  When the women finally broke apart, Tarrant’s face and stance had softened slightly. “Can I ask you something?” Tarrant stared pointedly at Karina.

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Why does your family have such a hard-on for drakons?”

  “My ancestor was one of the human women who bore a drakon son. She was cast out of her home. In her bitterness, she blamed the child and set out to destroy him and all his kind.” Karina sighed and shoved her hands in her jacket pockets. “Not exactly a history to be proud of. Over the centuries, various groups rose and fell, until the Knights of the Dragon came together. By then, it was more about power and wealth than vengeance.”

  The sisters might have hugged and made up, but he and Tarrant were still eyeing each other. It was his turn to ask a question. “Why did you stop searching for more brothers?” It had haunted him his entire life.

  “We were thinking more like humans than drakons. We were still young and didn’t factor in that our dragon sire could fly long distances in a very short time.”

  “And later?” They hadn’t always been young.

  Tarrant shrugged. “I guess by then, we had each other and had settled into life. When did you know about us?”

  “From almost the very beginning.” He could still remember following his brothers’ path through desert and mountain terrain until he’d finally given up.

  “Why didn’t you come to us?”

  Jericho looked at the men surrounding him, the men who had been by his side for thousands of years. “I guess we found each other and settled into life.” He tossed Tarrant’s words back at him.

  Tarrant nodded. “Fair enough. Want to meet the rest?”

  His heart pounded in anticipation, but he didn’t accept the offer. Instead, he took Karina’s hand in his. “Is my mate welcome?”

  “Yes. We would never hurt a drakon mate.” Tarrant glanced at Valeriya. “And my life wouldn’t be worth living if I made any move on her.” Valeriya frowned at her mate and elbowed him in the stomach. “Follow me,” he ordered.

  Tarrant waited until they were all on their bikes before pulling out.

  “I love you,” Karina whispered, her breath tickling his ear. His heart swelled, and so did other parts of his anatomy. For a brief second, he thought about peeling off and finding a private field somewhere for just the two of them.

  With the open road before him, his family by his side, and his brothers just ahead, he had everything he’d ever wanted. But none of it topped having his mate seated behind him, her arms wrapped securely around his waist.

  “I love you, too,” he told her.

  She buried her face against his back and hugged him closer. Life didn’t get any better.

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  Forgotten

  Brotherhood:

  Maccus

  Book One

  N.J. Walters

  Prologue

  Maccus Hunt stared dispassionately at the rogue werewolf he’d just beheaded. The creature lay at his feet in pieces, the snarl still on his face exposing razor-sharp fangs. Compassion was a foreign emotion. Satisfaction for a job well done was all he needed––that and money in his bank account.

  The creature had brought this on himself. Hopped up on bloodlust and copious amounts of cocaine, the rogue had gone on a killing spree, bringing a lot of unwelcome attention to his kind. One thing immortals avoided like the plague was stirring up the human authorities and the news media. In this day and age, where everyone had a cell phone, it was even more imperative to keep a low profile.

  When the werewolf’s former alpha had been unable to stop the killings, the pack had made contact through the Forgotten website—a clearinghouse for jobs for men like Maccus—immortals that killed other immortals.

  After all, someone had to bring rogues to justice, and there were few qualified to handle an immortal turned raging psychopath.

  Maccus and the others in the small, select group were different—extremely dangerous loners with loyalty to no one. The monsters in the closet that people pretended weren’t there. They had no pack, no coven or community. Or at least none that would claim them.

  All they had was the other members of the Forgotten Brotherhood.

  In truth, not much separated them from those they put down.

  They were assassins for hire. The difference was they killed only those who deserve to die—paranormal creatures that murdered without discrimination.

  They were all stone-cold killers, men who had nothing left to lose. Men who were holding on to what little was left of their honor and sanity. Some days they failed.

  He’d met the other assassins. That was one point where he was unmovable. He needed a face-to-face to make sure the group wasn’t admitting someone to the ranks that would have to put down.

  He wouldn’t say he actually knew the other Forgotten, wouldn’t call any of them friends. They weren’t exactly a sociable group. Like him, they’d all been betrayed by people close to them. It had left them all with a shitload of trust issues.

  But they all lived by the code of their group, and they only had four rules. Kill only those that truly deserved it. Kill them all and let their gods sort them out. Kill them before they killed you. Never, ever betray a fellow assassin.

  Simple and easy with little room for discussion. Because once a contract was accepted, it was carried out. There was no other option. And if someone tried to hire one of them to execute an innocent? Well, that never ended well for the one trying to secure the contract.

  And whenever the need to kill came upon him—and it always did—there was always someone in need of dying.

  Chapter One

  Maccus’s eyes snapped open to complete wakefulness and awareness. His bedroom was pitch black, but he didn’t
fear the dark. It welcomed him, enshrouded him in its anonymity and silence. It was where he was most at home.

  It was the light he shunned.

  “What the fuck do you want?” He swung his legs over the side of the bed and slowly stood, rolling his neck and shoulders to work out the kinks. The dream came often, but this was the first time in the ten thousand years since he’d plunged into darkness it had actually conjured the person responsible for his downfall.

  If he was totally honest, it wasn’t all Gabriel’s fault. Maccus’s downfall was on him. He’d been too trusting, too loyal. But no more. These days he looked out for only person—himself.

  Once, the bright light radiating from the archangel would have been blinding. Now, all it did was annoy him. He stared straight at the man who’d been his commander and closest friend and felt…nothing––not anger or sorrow­­––and certainly nothing resembling affection.

  His emotions had been burned away after five thousand years in the bowels of Hell fighting to retain what was left of his soul. He’d been thrust out by Hades himself.

  His soul? That was all but gone.

  The light gradually dimmed until it dissipated completely. “You’ve changed.” Gabriel’s voice was still the same—deep and melodic. He looked the same with his golden hair and blue eyes. He fit the conventional image of an angel, complete with pure white wings. What wasn’t stereotypical was the faded jeans and bright blue shirt he wore.

  Maccus strolled into the bathroom, leaving the door open while he took a piss. “What did you expect?” When he was done, he washed his hands and made his way back to the bedroom. It was early, but there would be no getting back to sleep for him now.

  Naked, he opened the bedroom door and made his way to the kitchen of his New York City penthouse apartment. Once, he would have feared to have such a powerful angel at his back. Now, he no longer cared. Gabriel could do nothing to him that had not already been done.