Dragon Unbound Read online

  “Embroidery in particular.”

  Both women watched me closely.

  “Sure. It’s very pretty,” I said, hoping I was making the right answer.

  Ysolde and May beamed at me.

  “Such a good fit,” Ysolde said cryptically. “Be sure to tell us if you need anything more.”

  “I’m fine,” I said miserably. I hated lying to people. “Thank you for everything.”

  “Not a problem at all. You have no idea the good you are going to do—” She paused when a bellowed yell could be heard from downstairs. “And that’s right on schedule.”

  “What is?” I asked, somewhat startled by the vehemence in the voices coming up the stairs.

  “The First Dragon has annoyed Baltic. I’d better go save him before he says things he shouldn’t. Good night, Charity. It’s been ... interesting ... meeting you.”

  “Good night. Thank you.”

  May murmured a good-night, as well, and both women left, trotting down the stairs to where I could hear raised voices.

  I closed the door, leaning against it for a minute before running over to the window and throwing it open.

  “Damn.” There was no way down but jumping, and I couldn’t think of many things I wanted to do less than jump out of a second-story building, especially when the first story evidently had tall ceilings.

  “Looks like I’m stuck. Great job, Charity, really sterling work.” I checked the bathroom to make sure there wasn’t a handy exit (there wasn’t), then returned to the bed, where I sat and promptly ate two candy bars. “Now what am I going to do?”

  I thought of trying to call Andrew, but my cell phone had been taken when I was shoved into the cellar, and wasn’t returned to me. Besides, if they were caught in the act of stealing and now in police custody, there was nothing I could do for them. Like me, they were on their own.

  I wandered aimlessly around the room for a little bit, then decided I might as well have the bath that I’d led everyone to believe I desperately needed in my attempt to escape my prison.

  There was a large claw-foot tub that dominated most of the bathroom, the kind two or three people could fit in. I ran the water, and opened the windows to allow the summer breeze in, since the room was a bit stuffy. By the time I sank into the steaming hot water (scented with some of Aisling’s jasmine bath salts), my mind was quickly chugging through all the possible outcomes of the situation.

  “One,” I said, sinking into the water with a sigh of happiness. Even though the day was warm, there was nothing like a hot bath to relax your muscles. The soles of my feet stung a little, but the pain quickly eased. “The dragons call the Watch, and they put me away somewhere. Clearly, I’m not going to let that happen. Two, I escape and assuming the band gets let out of jail, and we get out of Hungary and lay low for a bit. Three, I escape and the band doesn’t get out of jail, in which case I’m on the run again. Alone. With more people than ever after me.”

  I didn’t really like the sound of any of that, but particularly of the last one. I’d been on my own for so long, it had been nice to be part of a group, even if that group had been using me.

  The truth was that it had been a long time since I’d had any contact with people. I missed that. I missed the interactions, and feeling like I had a connection to someone. That I mattered to someone. I hadn’t had anyone since my last foster mom Maud had died twelve years before.

  “Poor Maud. I’m sorry I put you through such hell. You did such a nice thing rescuing me when no one else wanted me. But you’re gone, and I’m alone, and what am I going to do?” Using my toes, I pulled the plug on the tub and got to my feet, shivering a little when a breeze suddenly swirled around my wet skin. I stepped out of the tub and went over to the counter, where a towel was folded. “I suppose that what I’m going to have to do is sing my way out of here and then go to—ack!”

  The First Dragon stood in the doorway, looking bemused and slightly startled. I snatched up the towel and held it protectively in front of me. “Mille pardons,” he said, and gestured toward the open window in the bedroom. “I thought that perhaps you had tried to climb down. I take it your bath has made you feel better?”

  “Yes,” I said, more awkward than I’ve ever felt, and not just because I was stark naked in front of a powerful demigod. “It ... I’m ... I wasn’t actually ... oh, goddess. This is just a mess.”

  He glanced over my shoulder. “Do you need assistance? Would you like me to call one of the female mates?”

  “No, I don’t need—” I waved a dismissive hand. “I don’t need anyone. The mess isn’t me, or rather, it is, but not in the way that you think. The truth is, I’m not having my period.”

  He just looked at me with those uncanny, brilliant eyes, eyes that in this light had a touch of icy blue in their silver depths.

  “My woman’s time,” I said, using his phrase. “I’m not having it. I won’t for several months. My birth control takes care of that. And yes, I’m sure you don’t particularly care about what’s going on in my downstairs, but everyone is being so nice and sympathetic, and bringing me chocolate and pads, and I feel like the biggest heel in the world.”

  His eyes narrowed slightly as he puzzled this out, his gaze going over my shoulder again. “You used the excuse of your woman’s time to get out of the cellar?” he finally asked. “I told you I would have you released.”

  “Yes, but then you left, and there I was stuck in that place. I hate being closed in, and besides, it wasn’t very nice down there.”

  To my surprise, a little smile curled up the corners of his lips. “That is very clever bringing the mates to your side.”

  “And now I feel worse for using them.” For some reason, tears pricked behind my eyes. I had a feeling they were based in self-pity, but that didn’t make me feel any better. “I just ... I was desperate, and it seemed like the only thing to do, and dammit, I am not crying.”

  He wiped away one tear with his thumb, his fingers cupping my chin. “Then your face is leaking.”

  I couldn’t help it—I laughed at the deadpan delivery of his delivery. “What I meant is that I normally do not cry over little things, and I’m more than a little ashamed that I’m standing here right now, nearly naked, and bawling over something so silly.”

  “Remorse, I’ve heard, can have that effect.” He put his hand on my shoulder, his fingers warm. “Why did you not seek help to escape the control the musicians held over you?”

  “Help from who? The Watch just wanted to put me away so that I couldn’t affect anyone. There were several very wealthy individuals who promised to protect me, but I knew better. Honestly, the band was the lesser of two evils, and in return for me helping them take money from people they swore could afford the loss, they promised to keep me hidden from the nasty people who intended to use my powers in ways that made me sick.”

  He nodded. “You made the best out of an impossible situation.”

  His fingers moved gently on my shoulder, and I was aware again of just how warm they were. Very warm. So warm, it felt like my skin was on fire under them, but it was a pleasant burn, one that seemed to sink down into my blood.

  “Um,” I said, distracted by from my pity party by the burn he was firing up inside of me. “You have your hand on my shoulder.”

  “Yes, I do,” he agreed. His gaze flickered past my ear again.

  “My naked shoulder.” The words seemed to come from my mouth without awareness, but that was likely because my whole being was focused on the sensation of his fingers on my bare flesh.

  He stiffened slightly. “Does it displease you?”

  “No. That is ... well ... not really. But it’s kind of ... forward.”

  “Is it?”

  “I didn’t ask you to put your hand on my shoulder. My naked shoulder.”

  “You didn’t ask to put your hand on my chest earlier, but I didn’t complain,” he pointed out.

  Instantly, I stared at that bit of skin that showed through
his opened shirt. I swear my mouth started watering just looking at it. Without realizing what I was doing, I put my hand on the open triangle of flesh.

  His skin felt as hot as the fire inside me.

  “You see?” He smiled, and I had to lock my knees to keep them from buckling. “I do not object.”

  We stood there for a moment, him with his hand on my shoulder, me with mine on his upper chest, and I suddenly realized that the tension in the air had to be addressed.

  “I’m not a fool, you know.” I let my fingers stroke the dip in his collarbone. “I know what you’re thinking.”

  “I very much doubt that you do,” he said with a flash of humor in his eyes. They were definitely more blue than they had been earlier ... or maybe it was just the lights?

  “You’re thinking that we’re alone in a house together, and we’re both adults, and you’re handsome as sin, and we’ve both already admitted that we like each other, so there’s no reason why we shouldn’t hook up. But that doesn’t mean that’s going to happen.”

  A little frown pulled his eyebrows together. I waited for the inevitable question.

  “Hook up?”

  “Sex.” I lifted my chin, and hiked my towel up a smidgen higher. “I’m not going to have sex with you. So if that’s what you’re thinking, you can just stop. For one thing, I don’t jump into bed with men I’ve just met, especially when they are gods. And for another, I ... er ...” I stopped. My brain seemed to have run out of reasons why I shouldn’t jump his bones.

  “Don’t engage in casual sexual congress?” He looked thoughtful, his fingers now absently stroking my shoulder. “I’ve always felt that an understanding of a sexual partner was the preferred method. Luckily, I am fairly understanding.”

  “In what way?” I asked, suddenly breathless. My heart started pounding like crazy, and I knew, I knew with every ounce of my being, that he was going to kiss me, and it was going to be the best kiss I’d ever had.

  “I understand you.” His gaze seemed to pierce all the guards I’d put up to keep people away from my true inner self, the light from those bright gray-blue eyes chasing away all the shadows.

  I leaned in a little, unable to keep from smiling at the sheer folly of my feelings. “I do not fall for men right off the bat,” I said, my breath fanning across his lips. “So don’t even go there.”

  “The very last thought in my mind is that of seducing you,” he said just before his mouth closed on mine. His hand slid from my shoulder, down my naked back, and stopping at my waist, leaving a trail of fire behind. Or at least that’s what it felt like. I slipped my hand under his shirt, and enjoyed the warm velvet-over-steel feel of his chest, soft little hairs tickling my fingers.

  “Good. Just so we’re on the same page. Absolutely no sex.” Those were the words that came out of my mouth, but my mind and body had very different ideas. I pushed him backward, out of the doorway and in a direct path for the bed, all the while nibbling on his lips. He tolerated that for about six seconds, but when he bumped up against the bed, both of his hands slid lower to my derriere, his fingers digging in as he pulled me upward, his tongue twining around mine, my mind and body and soul filling with fire.

  “You must tell me if the fire gets too hot,” he murmured against my lips. I was too busy divesting him of his shirt to pay much attention to his words, pausing to stare with wonder at the tattoo starting at the bottom of his breastbone before moving down to his belly button, and then curving around his right side to his back.

  “It’s a dragon,” I said, tracing the intricate indigo-black lines. They looked Celtic in origin, the head and neck of the dragon stretched upward, and the body twisting around to the side. “I guess that makes sense, but I never thought of a god having a tattoo. Does it go all the way ...” I moved around behind him. The tattoo continued around his back, the Celtic coiled body forming a beautifully intricate pattern that held symbols within its scales. I followed the curving path around to his left front side, where the tail coiled around and dipped down into his waistband. “That’s utterly gorgeous. Where did you get it?”

  He nipped my shoulder, his hands sliding around to the front, discarding the towel I still held clutched to my front. “One of Alexander of Macedon’s men did it. He thought it fitting. Does this hurt?”

  I shivered at the sensation of the heat he licked across one breast. “Goddess, no. Do it again. And then do the other one.” My fingers dug into the muscles of his shoulders for a second while the heat shimmered across now-aching nipples, and sank deep into my core.

  He frowned at my breast for a second, then took one of my hands, and traced a symbol onto my palm. The symbol burst into flame, and instinctively I snatched my hand back, adrenaline jolting through my body. It was then that I realized the flame was warm on my hand, but not burning, not in the sense of normal flames.

  “What ... what did you do?” I asked, staring at the symbol. It was a complex circle, one of the symbols that had been repeated on the dragon tattoo.

  “It is dragon fire.” He watched me for a couple of seconds. Then a slow smile spread across his face. “You can embrace dragon fire.”

  “I don’t know about embrace it,” I said, touching it with my fingers. It felt like a warm liquid, one that seemed very responsive to my desires. I turned my hand and placed my palm on his belly, pressing the fire into his flesh. “It is interesting, though.”

  “I am quite pleased to hear you say that.” He kissed me again, and suddenly, my body was bathed in fire, inside and out, and for a moment I panicked. Heat consumed me, boiling my blood and crawling along my flesh, pushing me to the point where I was going to explode in a supernova, but just before it became unbearable, suddenly it became my fire. It twisted through me, turning my psyche into one blazing inferno of desire and need and power. I poured the fire onto the man before me, my mouth nipping and teasing and tasting his all the while my hands were frantically unbuckling his belt and working his zipper.

  It was as if the fire had pushed me past the point of sanity. I threw caution to the wind, deciding my previous rules about hopping into bed with the first demigod I met were foolish. The First Dragon’s hands were everywhere at the same time I was desperately trying to get him out of his pants, until at last we fell onto the bed in a tangle of arms, legs, and fire. I sat up, finding myself straddling his thighs, his belly under my hands. I was panting, my heart racing, the air almost crackling with static electricity.

  “Do you ... you’re a god. Is there anything different about how you do this?” I asked, unable to keep from sliding my hands up his belly to his pectorals.

  “Different? Like this, perhaps?” His eyes were now molten gold, but thankfully, the pupils were normal. I made a mental note to ask him about why his eye color changed, but immediately forgot it when he smiled, and suddenly, I sat astride a dragon. Beneath my thighs, translucent scales shimmered, the colors in them moving and shifting along the spectrum, never just one color, but all colors.

  “Holy shit!” I screamed, and would have leaped off him if the dragon hadn’t disappeared and the man returned, his flesh wonderfully familiar and normal. I slapped both hands on his chest. “Don’t you ever do that again!”

  “Never?” he asked, humor and heat and passion in his eyes. “It is one of my forms, just as this is.”

  “What you do in your own time is your own business, but I’m very much a human form sort of girl, so if you expect me to impale myself on this really outstanding example of a penis—hoobah, that’s really ... godlike ... isn’t it? The word heroic comes to mind—then you are going to stay like you are right now.”

  He pulled me upward to claim my mouth again, an act that set me afire again. I wiggled against him, reveling in the feeling of his body beneath mine. He might be several centuries old, but he had the appearance of a man at the very peak of his physical prowess, and my body was singing its own siren songs to lure him into my depths. “It shall be as you desire.”

  “Good.”
I leaned down to lick the two little nipples that hid in the soft brown hair of his chest. His hands were busy touching and teasing and stroking my breasts, leaving little trails of fire that absorbed into my skin, and drove my inner inferno even hotter. I paused to slant a glance upward at him. “There’s just one thing.”

  His eyebrows rose in question.

  “What we’re doing is just a case of mutual itch scratching. There’s nothing more at stake.”

  He stared at me for a moment as if he couldn’t understand the words. I didn’t want to come right out and tell him not to fall in love with me, because that was presumptuous to the nth degree, but at the same time, I didn’t want to risk him losing his immortal state.

  “Do you itch somewhere?” he finally asked.

  “You know what I mean,” I said, tapping my fingers on his chest.

  “Yes,” he agreed.

  “Good. The second thing is that I can’t make love to a man whose name I don’t know. It’s bad enough I’m jumping your bones a few hours after meeting you, but I’m putting that down to the fact that you’re a god, and I haven’t been with anyone in several years, and you’re so incredibly hot that it makes my girl parts clamor for you. But I draw the line at doing it without knowing your name. I’ll tell you mine first, since I dislike hypocrites: my name is Charity. Charity Doe, and yes, it’s like Jane Doe. I don’t know who my parents were. Now it’s your turn, and please hurry, because my girl parts are screaming for me to stop talking and start with the action.”

  He smiled again, his eyes now more silver than gold, but still bright enough to almost glow with desire. He positioned me where he wanted me, my thighs astride his hips, and urged me down. My breath caught in my throat at the feeling of his intrusion into what were, by now, highly anticipatory parts, ones that welcomed him with tiny spasms of a million little muscles.

  “My mother called me Avval,” he said, his breath hot on my neck as he licked a path over to a spot behind my ear that made me weak. “It is Tajik for first.”

  “Fitting,” I said, my body quivering around his as I worked out a rhythm that came close to making my eyes cross. His back arched beneath me, his fingers, which were now on my hips, digging in until they felt like claws. He breathed fire on me, bathing me in it, his body positioning into me, going to depths I hadn’t known existed. And just as I trembled on the edge of an orgasm, he pushed me into it by suddenly twisting, flipping me over onto my back, my legs still gripping his hips. He said something in a language I didn’t recognize, his voice hoarse, my entire being falling into an explosion of a thousand little pieces of ecstasy.