Not His Dragon (12 page)

Eoin was more than aware of Angie. Mere inches separated their bodies. Her scent coiled around him, calling to his unmated nature. His blood felt thick in his veins.

“I can take care of myself. I don’t need your help.”

Ignoring her automatic knee jerk response, he began to stroke along her graceful neck. He let his fingers travel over her soft, wet cheekbones, her stubborn chin, the lushness of her lips. He drank her in and she tasted like his. He lowered his head. Gods, those lips were even softer than he imagined.

She thawed and molded her body to his, submitting to his need to care for her. He knew how hard he’d pushed her and was more determined to make things right even if she refused his help. She nibbled his lower lip before sucking it between her teeth. Surrendering in his arms, she opened her mouth. Her tongue touched his for a fleeting moment and disappeared again.

He wanted to explode, to push her to the ground and claim her as his, but not until he healed her from the pain he’d caused. He needed his Angie back. The spitfire, crazed woman who had pepper-sprayed him in the eyes and never apologized. He kissed her again—playful and light—and he sensed the tension in her body relax.

She pushed up onto her tiptoes to deepen the kiss. Her tongue returned and he sucked on the tip gently. Then he followed it back to her mouth where she did the same. It became a game and finally the clouds of fear in Angie’s beautiful face cleared as she smiled against his lips.

He drew away. Using his thumb, he forced her chin up so their eyes could meet. He saw the sun and moon and stars in her smile. Such a smile was worth all his protection. “I know you can take care of yourself. You always have.” He tried to keep his tone normal, but his heart broke along with hers. He needed her to know something, though. “But you’re not alone anymore.”

Her smile faded a bit. “You say that now, but in time, you’ll leave as well.” She retreated from his arms as her damn phone rang. She answered before he could intervene. “Hello? Yes, this is she. Who’s this?” Her brows furrowed and she blocked her unused ear with her finger to concentrate on the other voice on the line. “What set off the alarm?”

Eoin gathered their lunch back in the bag. It sounded like their field trip was over. If she thought this conversation was finished, she was in for a shock. Try as she might to shut him out, she didn’t realize how good he was at tearing down doors.

Angie returned her phone to her pocket. “That was the alarm company for the shop. They think someone tried to break in. They dispatched the cops. Everything looks untouched but they can’t shut off the fucking alarm. I swear that building is going to put me in an early grave.”

“You need to go back.” He hid his disappointment. Her life revolved around her business.

She nodded. “Can you fly that distance again so soon?”

He snorted. “No problem.” His body didn’t ache from exertion. It was from sexual tension and constant denied release. “I’ll go with you, then we can discuss this over dinner.”

She shook her head. “Ryota’s pack runs the security company. Your presence will cause trouble.”

He scowled. “Contrary to your belief, I can control myself.” Not to mention, he didn’t want to leave her alone if Ryota showed his face.

She set her hand over his heart. “I’m not worried about you. Werewolves can be so touchy. The last thing I need is one of them thinking he can make a name for himself and attacking you, or worse, calling Ryota over.”

“You don’t want to see him?” He wished he could swallow his tongue sometimes. But by the all the gods he’d ever heard of, he
needed
to know.

“No, I already have a headache and I doubt a ringing alarm will make me feel any better.” She stroked his chest absentmindedly. “Can I take a rain check?”

He gathered her against his thrumming body. Each caress making it harder to let her go. “Fuck, yes.”

Chapter Eighteen

Eoin sat in his tower workroom, staring at the painting of Angie’s aura again. He remembered her cool lips timidly touching his, her sweet flavor, the tangle of their tongues pure aphrodisiac. What was he going to do? Where to begin…a hundred scenarios came to mind, starting with making good use of the bed he never slept in.

No female had ever infiltrated his heart so thoroughly as Angie Weldon. A thin line of smoke trailed from the cigarette hanging from his lip. It obscured his view so he tossed it in the pile of ash left from his bonfire.

Anxiety chewed at his innards. Maybe he shouldn’t have kissed her so soon. She’d made it clear that she didn’t want a relationship with a shifter, but as said shifter, he didn’t give a shit. She was as much a shifter as he was. The arms of the chair creaked under his straining fingers. He’d probably wrecked everything. No, it wasn’t his fault. It was Ryota’s.
He’d
wrecked everything.

She didn’t harbor feelings for the alpha. If anything, she acted like she couldn’t stand Ryota. Eoin could understand the sentiment.

The faint scent of death drifted into the room. Only the whispered sound of shoes scuffing against the stone announced the arrival of the vampire. “You missed our appointment.”

Eoin grimaced and turned to face his vampire friend. “I forgot.” He’d been going to Viktor’s tattoo parlor for the past decade. There weren’t many people alive that Eoin would trust to ink his flesh.

Viktor strode into Eoin’s workroom and stared at the painting. “I like the new turn in your work. It’s much more cheerful.” He still spoke with a light Russian accent even after living in this country for longer than Eoin.

“I don’t recall asking for your opinion.”

“No, but you did ask for this information.” The vampire held out a manila envelope.

Eoin snatched and set it on his lap. “You work fast.”

Viktor shrugged. “I have excellent connections. Why the interest in the girl?”

Stroking the envelope, Eoin struggled not to tear it open. The information didn’t belong to him but he had to know where she’d come from. If he wanted to mend things between him and Angie, the best course of action was to help her discover the truth. “None of your business.” This belonged to Angie. The least he could do was wait to read it with her.

“Whatever. You’ll tell me eventually and I’ve all the time in the world.” Viktor turned his back on the painting and lifted up his shirt. Across his flanks and down his back read a list of names. “I need you to carve a new name into my flesh.”

“What happened?” Eoin leaned forward in his chair. “You haven’t killed anyone in years.”

The vampire wrote the names of his victims on his skin in penance. Some of the names were as simple as
sod behind bar
or
boy unattended
. Viktor had been trying for a very long time to learn to drink without actually killing his victims. He’d been a poor study. It was amazing he hadn’t been caught and staked by now.

Viktor hung his head, his long black hair shadowing his face. “I don’t know. My date invited me back to her home and things got out of control.” He shook his head. “
I
got out of control.” He handed Eoin a vial of ink. This special vial was mixed with dragon blood since regular ink wouldn’t stain his skin and Eoin’s blood burned the color into permanence. Victor also needed something strong and sharp enough to pierce his flesh.

Eoin allowed his pointer finger to shift so his long sharp claw grew. He hissed at the dull pain that radiated up his arm. Partial shifts were slow, which made it painful. “What’s her name?”

Viktor approached him pulling his shirt off. “Victoria Smith.”

Eoin dipped the tip of his index claw into the vial and scratched the girl’s name under the list on Victor’s right flank. He didn’t bleed and his skin sizzled on contact.

Jaw clenched, Viktor didn’t utter a sound during the slow process. Once it was done, he sighed. “Sorry.” It seemed like everyone was sorry for something nowadays. The new mark healed before Eoin’s eyes. Viktor then threw himself on the floor next to Eoin’s chair and leaned against the piece of furniture. “You never miss an appointment.”

Eoin concentrated on his claw, retracting it back into his fingertip. “I’ve been distracted.” He grunted in relief as the shift ended.

“What’s her name?”

“What makes you think it’s a woman?” Viktor was one of the first friends Eoin had made when he moved to New Port. The vampire had shown up at his castle to size up the competition. They had more in common than either would rather admit. Both were artists, both were very long-lived, and both were isolated from their kind. “Her name is Angie.”

“So it is the human girl.” Viktor rocked with amusement. “How did she get you so tied up in knots? Is she that good in bed?” Viktor twisted to share a salacious grin. “More importantly, are you willing to share?”

Eoin’s hand moved as if it had a life of its own and slapped the vampire across the head before either had seen the movement.

“I’ll leave that subject alone.” Viktor rubbed his head.

“I don’t share.” Eoin stood up and gestured for the vampire to follow. “My agent and my gallery manager have asked me to expand my horizons. You know how well old races are at learning new tricks.” He abandoned the painting and led Viktor downstairs to his sculpting workshop. He opened the door and bowed to let Viktor in ahead of him. The statues still radiated heat but had solidified.

Upon entering the room, the vampire waved his hand in front of his nose. “Smells like sulfur. Who did you barbecue?”

“Neither my agent or manager.” There was a growl to his voice. No matter how much he would like to set flame to both of them at present, he knew deep down inside that they were trying to help him in their human fashion. Everything fast and furious—now, now, now.

Viktor paused and assessed his work from a distance. “This is a different medium for you.” He strolled around the room and between statues, touching, poking at the material. “What seems to be the issue?”

Eoin tossed his hands in the air and stormed across the room, knocking the prickly statue on its side. Some of the points shattered on contact and skidded across the scorched stone floor. “They’re horrid.” What was everybody seeing in these abominations? “It has been remarked my paintings are emotionless and cold. I lost my temper and created that thing sitting on my front lawn. Lorenzo loves it and has canceled my painting exhibit so he can show my new statues.” He opened his arms out and spun slowly. This would be the end of his career in the art world. He’d be a laughingstock, and worse, his clan would be right. Dragons shouldn’t be artists.

Viktor shook his head. “These works are visceral.” He fingered the one full of sharp edges and punctured his fingertips. A drop of dark, almost black, blood beaded on his fingertip. “It’s almost like a kick to the balls. There’s a lot the emotion in this work. Maybe you should try using your new love interest as a model. She may inspire something different. Something not so…” He held up his healing fingertip. “Sharp.”

Eoin ground his teeth. “I can’t—” He bared his teeth. “I can’t blow fire at the moment. I burned myself out, I think.” Huffing, Eoin bent forward as if to blow flame.

Viktor dodged to the side. “I’m flammable, jackass.”

A cough was all that Eoin produced. No smoke, no spark, and definitely no flame. “See? No danger. It stopped last night and I haven’t been able to rekindle my spark.” He paced the room, rubbing his head over and over again. His calloused hands barely felt the short stubble.

“Maybe it’s stress.” Victor shrugged.

Rolling his stiff shoulders, Eoin nodded. “That’s possible. I have enough of it.” He’d never heard of a dragon losing his fucking flame. If it were permanent, he’d be a dead dragon. His people tended to attack first and ask questions later. Kind of like how he’d met Angie.

A dark laugh echoed in Eoin’s workspace and had both of them spinning about face. “I’m not surprised to hear about your impotence, Eoin.” The man blocking Eoin’s doorway should be the cover model for Stinking Rich Assholes magazine. His black hair looked like he’d only run his fingers through it, but Eoin knew this dragon probably kept a stylist chained in his dungeon. His tailored suit fit him so perfectly that Eoin’s sagging jeans wanted to cry in shame. When had the old dragon started wearing modern clothes? Last he’d seen Cedric, the bastard had been still chasing women in his kilt.

So this night could get worse.

“How did you get into my home?” The other dragon had been a thorn under Eoin’s scales for as long as he could remember.

Cedric crossed his arms and leaned against the frame. “You have no security. No gates, no guards, no alarm system. How can you live in such a dump?” He made a distasteful face. “You don’t guard your treasure well.” He tsked.

“What I consider valuable, other dragons wouldn’t want.” Eoin sensed Viktor moving further to the side so he could flank Cedric in case of an attack. The vampire proved to be a better and better friend.

The old dragon shouldn’t be in Eoin’s city. At least, not without his permission. He hadn’t been out to check his perimeter spells since running into Angie. The fucking old dragon must have disabled them somehow. Eoin kept a close eye on the other male. “I don’t remember extending you an invitation to enter my territory.” New Port was not considered desirable by dragon standards. There were no volcanoes, or glaciers, or oceans. It was also overpopulated, modern, and stank. He couldn’t imagine Cedric wanting to take over his territory.

“An unmated female dragon is one of our most precious treasures. If you don’t want her, then I’d be happy to accompany her back to my territory, where I can care for her properly. According to our laws, I am neither trespassing nor need an invitation to come to New Port as you have an unmated female in your city.” He smirked. “How long did you think you could keep her a secret?”

Eoin’s body suddenly felt too hot. Cedric was right. Unmated females were rare among their kind and cherished, but Eoin was still thinking of Angie as human. “When the fuck did you become interested in a mate?” Cedric most likely wanted Angie because she was in Eoin’s city.

Females were welcome to travel where they wanted. They usually settled in the territory of their choosing except Angie hadn’t known she was dragon until a few hours ago. How had Cedric found out so fast?

Cedric’s eyebrows rose and the corner of his mouth curled in a smug smile. “So the rumors are true.”

Eoin want to punch himself in the balls. Cedric had that kind of effect on him. The dragon hadn’t known for sure she was a dragon until Eoin opened his big, fat mouth. Fuck, Eoin hadn’t known what she was until they’d met. He had to think fast to keep the other dragon away from Angie.

“I thought you said that she was human,” Viktor added.

Eoin wasn’t sure if Viktor had saved his ass purposely, but either way, he’d owe the vampire one. “She’s half human.” He met Cedric’s glare. “She has dragon blood in her ancestry that makes her smell like pure dragon but she can’t shift.” Eoin’s insides were melting from fury, but he somehow managed to keep his exterior cool. This meant he had to postpone fixing Angie’s shifting issues until Cedric’s curiosity was satisfied. The weird shield around Angie’s aura had to be kept a secret until he could figure out how to break it. Otherwise, Cedric would attempt to claim her and force Eoin into a fight, one which he was certain to lose.

Every time Eoin tried to break through her shields, he could see her aura reaching out to the magic but not making contact. It had been so devastating and he wished he hadn’t put Angie through that kind of agony.

Cedric gave Eoin a mocking bow. “I will judge for myself, but as custom demands, I declare my presence in your city.” He turned his back on Eoin and Viktor as if he considered them not even a threat. Eoin followed him out of his castle and watched as he climbed into a limousine.

So the old dragon hadn’t learned how to drive yet. This gave Eoin a small amount of pleasure. He’d take what he could. He suspected the week would become his personal hell.

Viktor set his hand on Eoin’s shoulder. “You better warn her. He’s an asshole.”

“How did rumors spread so fast? Must be that fucking wolf pack.” He hadn’t told Ryota to keep it a secret.

“Pack animals do gossip.” Viktor nodded. “I have a better question. Why are you only finding out about her now? How has she been hiding her nature all this time?”

“She has something preventing her from touching magic. This shields her from detection. The only reason I found her was by meeting her on the street and she smells like dragon.” Eoin needed to set something on fire but the heat that should be boiling in his belly remained extinguished. If he had to fight Cedric, he’d be shit out of luck without his flame.

Eoin shook his head. “This is going to get complicated.” He glanced over his shoulder at the vampire and scowled. “Do you need my dungeon?” He had killed a human. It was always how it began before Viktor went on a psychotic murdering spree. They’d made an arrangement long ago. Viktor helped him fit in human society and Eoin kept the vampire from becoming a serial killer.

Shifting his eyes away, Viktor nodded.

Eoin grabbed the vampire by the throat before he could change his mind and dragged him to the back of the castle.