by Kira Nyte
As they soaked in their post love-making glory, the hot water of the pool relaxing and soothing to her muscles while in Syn’s arms, her mighty dragon whispered, “Know this, Briella Everett. My heart is yours. I’m playing for keeps.”
Somewhere in this dream-turned-reality twist of life, her heart pattered and her lips curled into a smile, and she heard herself respond, “Your heart is safe with me, as I know mine is with you. And play for keeps all you like. I may be your Keeper, but I want you to keep me.”
Chapter Twenty
Syn needed to get them around others sooner rather than later if his damn libido had any hope of cooling off. The lifemate pull was insatiable, contrary to what he’d thought only a few days ago. He believed he had some semblance of control over it, but quickly learned how wrong he was the instant she gave herself to him.
He batted down the beast once more as he watched Briella, dressed in the change of clothing he’d picked up for her only a short time ago, brush her hair. Tasting her once had been pure heaven, but the desire never relinquished its maddening grip. It sank its claws deeper into his soul with each roll or tumble they took.
“How many different stairwells, hallways, tunnels, whathaveyous are there in this place?” Briella asked.
“Enough to get lost in, if you don’t know your way. It’s a defense. I know when someone crosses the threshold into my territory. The labyrinth of my home allows me time to determine the level of threat.” Syn led her off one spiraling stairwell to a platform and deeper into the mountain. With a thought, he lit each torch they reached as the glow of the ones left behind dimmed, giving Briella pause. Syn smiled, his vision wavy and thermal as his dragon took over his sight. The lines of warm red and orange that framed his lifemate made her even more stunning. “Remember, love. We have power and magic here. I only have to look at something and will it to catch fire.”
“So you’re looking at the torches and lighting them through magic.”
Syn shrugged, a pleased curl of his lips responding to her awe. “Yes.”
“Now, if that isn’t friggin’ cool.” Her gaze narrowed, her fingertips brushing his cheek just below his eye. “Just like the fire in your eyes right now. I’ll never admit it, but I love seeing it.”
She smiled at the lighthearted tease.
“I guess I’ll never know that you love it so much, because you’ll never admit it.”
“That’s right, dragon.”
They laughed as he looped his arm around her waist and continued forward. After a few more turns, they reached a stone wall. He extended his talons and located the first lock in a false fissure. With the tip of one talon, he unlatched the covering for the lock into the vault. Fitting both taloned hands into two grooves, he released the locking mechanism deep in the stone and the door slid open. Briella grimaced as stone scraped against stone, the sharp sound echoing in the small quarters.
“I hope you don’t think I’ve earned time in the dungeon.”
“Unless you consider my bed a dungeon, then no.” He stepped back, ignited the torches along the inner wall of the vault, and drank in the sight of Briella’s apprehension melting away to a shade of incredulous. Never in all his years would he have believed that shock actually looked good on a woman.
Briella wore the expression damn nice, from the way her full lips parted to the glitter that lit her eyes and reflected the torchlight. Her cheeks deepened in color.
She twisted around, pinning him with that piqued stare. “You steal things in your spare time?”
“I’m a dragon, sweet. What do dragons do best?”
His darling woman’s cheeks turned deep red. “Like you don’t know. But”—she turned back to stare around the room—“I never considered hoarding gold and gems a reality. How much is in here?”
“I’m a few hundred years old and I started fairly young.” He leaned against the rough edge of the doorway. “Enough for generations and generations after us to live very comfortable lives.”
And that was being conservative.
“You do recall when I said that the damages in your old apartment and all else was covered?”
He jutted his chin toward the neatly stored bars of gold, chests of gold that contained his coins, displays of jewels both polished and raw. He had more gold fashioned into candlesticks, frames, sculptures. Silver gleamed beneath the torchlight. Original tapestries from monarchies that had long since perished warmed the walls. Relics from ancient civilizations caught the eye. He had a deep affinity for antiques.
“We take care of our Keepers. By that I mean we provide for them. Your father always kept a stash of gold from my hoard in case of an emergency. Enough to live in extreme comfort for many, many years. Now that we are reconnecting with our Keepers, resources will be replenished. It was never meant as a handout. It is a responsibility that all Firestorm dragons take with pride. The ability to support our Keepers, give them what they need to survive comfortably when they are displaced.”
Syn took her hand and led her into the vault. Several centuries of collecting had filled an otherwise overly large space except for pathways. The torchlight created the illusion of a sea of gold that glinted and glittered as they moved between parted waves. Briella’s fingers dragged over chests and bars and jewel-encrusted furniture.
“Sweet heavens. This can’t be real,” she murmured, pausing to looked over her shoulder. “Does this room never end?”
Her admiration gave his ego a small boost. Pride was not a prominent characteristic of his, but he did pride himself on his hoard.
“Of course. But as you can see, you, just like Giovani and Saralyn, have nothing to worry about. Not a handout. This is what comes with me.” Slowly, he turned to face Briella full on. “If, of course, you choose to have me.”
“Even without all this”—she spread an arm out and swept it around the riches—“I’d have you.”
Ahh, and there it was. Admittance without hesitation. Without the strain of doubt or question in her voice.
Tucking her confession away, he smiled with a small nod. “I’ll be sure to remember that.”
* * *
Syn’s attention snapped to Taryn when he heard his friend snicker for the third time in less than ten minutes. As soon as his gaze leveled on the laid-back dragon, Taryn looked away and rocked back in his chair. His mischievous grin never dimmed. Emery and Gabe were too busy bickering over their latest flight race to lend their share of taunts to the discussion.
Taryn dropped a hand under the table so only Syn could see and flicked his fingers out from his fist sharply, imitating an explosion.
Syn growled under his breath.
“Everything okay?” Cade asked, returning from his kitchen with two jugs of his homemade wine.
“I’d say.” Taryn tossed a casual glance at Syn. “Right, brother? Everything okay?”
Syn scowled. He ignored Taryn and followed Cade’s enormous self with his eyes until their leader sat across from them. “Where’s Alazar?”
“I suppose Alazar’s excuse for being late would run parallel to the reason behind that glitter behind Taryn’s eyes.” Cade poured out three glasses of wine. “You and Briella must be doing well.”
Syn held the base of the goblet with two fingers and swirled the wine in it. “Yes.”
“Are her wounds healing?”
“She soaked in springwater last night and I brought her to one of the springs today. Her wounds are practically gone.”
“And why do I have a feeling she wasn’t soaking alone?” Emery chimed in. Syn rolled his eyes and leaned back in his seat.
“You’re lucky she isn’t here to listen to your wretched mouth,” he said.
Emery laughed, far from intimidated. “I’m sure you have some neat tricks up your sleeves to distract her.”
Gabe chuckled, but Emery and Taryn burst out laughing. Cade’s dark brows hiked, his hand staying his pour.
“It would be nice to leave whatever happens behind closed doors there.
And that means no prying into business that doesn’t concern you,” Cade said. Syn raised his glass to their leader in silent thanks and earned a slight nod. “For Briella’s sake.”
“I rescind my appreciation,” Syn said. Cade shrugged and finished his pour, a smirk lifting his beard. Syn couldn’t stop the half-grin that twitched the corner of his mouth.
“I’m sure you do. Your eyes have been fighting back fire since you arrived.”
Cade pushed the two jugs of wine to the center of the table as Alazar burst into the room. He hurried to the empty seat beside Syn and fell into it, a contagious smile brightening his face. Since his friend found Ariah, the guilt from his past after the untimely death of his previous Keeper didn’t appear to weigh as heavily on his shoulders. For that, Syn was grateful. Alazar did not deserve the guilt he suffered for decades.
Alazar reached for the goblet of wine Cade poured out for him. “Thanks. Sorry I’m late. Dropped Ari off with Briella and Saralyn.”
“Don’t try and tell us you didn’t steal an extra half-hour in the sack,” Taryn said.
Alazar winked.
Syn tossed back his entire glass of wine in one gulp.
The brothers roared with laughter.
“Children, it’s time to get serious,” Cade finally interrupted. “We have to address the Baroqueth presence in New Orleans, as well as successes in tracking any other Keepers and civilians to their hiding spots.”
“I say we just torch the suckers and be done with them. Why bother collecting our enemies and locking them away? At least the witches where Zareh’s living gave us a form of entertainment by capturing the slayers in those stones,” Emery said. He tapped a finger thoughtfully against his chin. “I wonder if they feel it when we pitch them into the walls?”
“When this damn war is over, and over for good, I have plans for those we’ve captured,” Cade said, the primitive rumble of his voice deepening. His eyes flashed with dark red flames and the nails that performed a single rap against the table had tapered to the tips of his black talons. “There will be no Baroqueth left to carry on their breed’s curse on the Firestorm tatsu.”
“Now we’re talking,” Gabe chimed in, shadows darkening his face. Syn narrowed his gaze on the man, wondering when his brother had acquired a taste for death. None of them were keen on the idea of genocide, but when the dragons weren’t the only ones suffering at the hands of the Baroqueth, it was time to take a stand. “Give us the okay to do away with them as they come at us, Cade, and you’ll see a depletion in their numbers faster than you can blink.”
“Tasted blood, have you, Gabe?” Taryn asked.
Gabe simply shrugged a shoulder and drowned his answer with a heavy gulp of his wine.
“I won’t have this turning into a bloody slaying. We’re not stooping to their level. Do you understand me?” Cade’s hard gaze skimmed over everyone at the table. They all nodded. “Very well, then. Remember, we can’t cause fear in the humans for the sake of other dragon breeds. I certainly don’t want to drag our reputation through the mud, either.”
“Reputation? Cade, we’re lore’s lore,” Alazar said. “You’ve said so yourself numerous times. We’re the Atlantis of dragons.”
Cade folded his large hands on the table and nodded once. “Yes, and we’ll remain so. Use stealth and good judgment when you encounter any Baroqueth.”
“Boss, if you don’t want us to draw attention to ourselves when we’re leaving trails of dead Baroqueth behind us, we’ll need to figure out a way of disposing of them here. Without any powers in the mortal realm, our slayer ash piles will be like cookie crumb trails,” Emery said.
“Book of Realms,” Alazar said.
Syn pressed his lips together and helped himself to another glass of wine. He had almost forgotten Alazar’s Keeper possessed one of the last copies of the Book of Realms. There was a time centuries ago when each Keeper possessed a copy of the magical book. The Baroqueth, in their quest to suck the Firestorm dry of power and life, destroyed all but a few. The exact number of books still in existence was unknown, as was the number of surviving Keepers and Baroqueth.
Everything was a damn mystery.
“I wouldn’t traipse around with that book, Al,” Syn warned. “If it’s the last one left, it’d be foolish to expose it for something as mundane as covering tracks.”
“I wouldn’t put mundane and Baroqueth ash piles in the same conversation,” Taryn said.
“I just find the idea of toting that book around the human realm dangerous and foolish.” Syn took a sip of wine. “We’ll fare well enough without it.”
“Um, I wouldn’t have fared well without it,” Alazar reminded him. It was true. The Book saved their lives only a few months ago, and landed a bunch of Baroqueth in Cade’s magically reinforced dungeon. In this world, their powers far exceeded the Baroqueths’, unless they were descendants of those original betrayers who syphoned power and life from their former dragon companions.
The woman.
Syn straightened in his chair. Something in his expression must have drawn Cade’s attention.
“What is it?” their leader asked.
“There’s a female Baroqueth.” Syn pushed his wine glass away, aware of Cade’s probing gaze. “Taryn and I came across her in a voodoo shop by Jackson Square. She’s responsible for Briella’s injuries.”
“Female?” Cade asked, his voice sharp, lethal. “Baroqueth are male. Half-breeds might be female. Was she a half-breed, like Miriam?”
Miriam, the spawn of a Baroqueth sorcerer and witch, seduced Alazar’s Keeper into marriage. The deceitful creature stuck around for ten years waiting for Mark or Ariah to drop the ball on their Keeper bloodline.
Syn wondered if Baroqueth females were as rare as female Keepers, and if they experienced a similar breeding surge during dangerous times.
Unfortunately, the woman they crossed paths with in the shop was no half-breed. “No. I haven’t encountered a Baroqueth with her power and capabilities. She appeared young, maybe Ariah’s age or younger, but the energy that rolled off her was something I’ve never felt from a male.”
“Quiet, Taryn,” Cade growled.
Taryn threw his hands up in the air, his eyes wide. “What? What did I say?”
“Nothing, but I saw it coming.” Cade snorted, dual plumes of light gray smoke exploding from his nostrils. He shook his head. He asked Syn, “Did she give you any clue as to who she was?”
“No, but she trapped two shop employees in mirrors and misted to escape. She didn’t just vanish, like the others do, which means she is confident in her abilities and can linger without being harmed. She put a concealment spell around the shop to ward off prospective shoppers. All except for Briella, which leaves me to wonder how long she’s been tracking my lifemate.”
“What was Briella doing in the shop?”
“She was handing out brochures for an upcoming gallery show of her paintings. Trying to push…promote…” Syn’s brows came together as his words trailed off. His thoughts shot back to the afternoon in the shop, Briella and her bag of brochures. Syn looked at Taryn, who stared back at him with a spark of confusion. “Did you see if that woman had one of Briella’s brochures?”
Taryn’s lips pursed. He shook his head. “Not that I noticed, but I wasn’t looking. The damage to your woman was more concerning.”
Syn shifted in his seat, his skin burning under the intensifying gazes of his brothers.
“Sweet, did you give the woman in the voodoo shop a brochure?”
It escaped him how he hadn’t thought to ask sooner. Then again, as Taryn said, her injuries had taken precedence.
“Yeah. Why? Don’t think she so much as glanced at it.”
Syn’s gaze focused on Cade. “Briella has a debut showing in a week. She gave the information to the woman at the shop. Date. Time. Place. Her name.”
Cade combed the tips of his talons through his beard, his eyes hardening. “Perfect opportunity for an ambush. Now we have some
thing to work with.”
As realization flooded Syn, so did dread. “And we have a problem if we try to stop Briella from attending.”
He had promised to support her in following her dreams.
He feared he’d have to break his promise and watch her dreams shatter instead.
Chapter Twenty-One
Briella couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that had settled between Syn and herself. She couldn’t put her finger on what was off. He held her as he had before, grinned, chuckled, laughed, but everything fell a hair short of genuine. She tried her hardest not to let it get the best of her as she enjoyed the rest of the day with Ariah and her mother.
As the day came to a close in a fiercely luminescent display of colors that streaked the sky, the guys gathered in the field they had first landed in. A heavy weight seemed to settle on her heart.
She didn’t want to leave yet. Not when there was so much she wanted to explore and experience. But her wounds were healed and she had work to do at home.
The day of her art show was quickly approaching and she’d missed a full day of promotion while she frolicked in The Hollow.
Crazy thing is, I didn’t give my debut more than a passing thought the whole time I was with Syn.
It should have bothered her, that her dreams had slipped somewhere behind Syn and her family and this whole new world on her list of priorities. That her upcoming debut as a new artist, a promising painter, had been nothing more than a flittering idea, a wisp of a whisper.
What bothered her as she pressed her chest tight to Syn’s hot scales as they bulleted through the night sky back to New Orleans was the strange disconnect that shocked their strengthening bond.
“Syn, please tell me what’s bothering you.”
It was the fourth time she’d nudged, and this time she practically begged. She wanted her dragon back. The one who burned her up from core to skin when his gaze landed on her. The one who nuzzled and teased and touched her without the hesitation he’d acquired since his meeting with the other dragons.
