Dragon's Curse (Harlequin Nocturne) (13 page)

He tightened his embrace in response to her sarcasm. “Braeden
and Alexia had to work together to decipher the first part of the book.”

“And?”

“As much as I hate to admit this, it seems it’s our turn to
translate more of it.”

“Wasn’t your sister-in-law given powers in the process?”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“No?” Cam leaned back to look down at her. “No, what?”

“No,” she repeated, shaking her head. Ariel pulled out of his
embrace. “I’m not game for this.”

He should have known she’d be less than thrilled with that
idea. From what he’d seen, humans fell into two categories—those who jumped at
the chance to gain extraordinary powers and those who would rather swallow hot
coals than change. Unfortunately, Ariel fell into the latter group.

“What makes you think you have a choice?”

She flashed him a wary gaze before turning to walk away. Cam
grabbed her hand to keep her from leaving the area around the grimoire.
“Don’t.”

Ariel’s shoulders slumped, but she turned back to face him. “I
don’t want to be like you.”

“You won’t be.” Nobody could be like him.

She glanced toward the dresser. “I never should have touched
it.”

“Too late, the process has already started.” He stood before
the grimoire and ran a fingertip down a page half filled with images. A spark of
interest shot into his beast. Cam felt it shake off the afterglow to shoot a
curious stare at the book.

“What does it say?” Ariel joined him.

“It looks like a story of some sort.” He tried unsuccessfully
to turn back a page to see what came before.

Ariel sighed. “Let me.” She gingerly reached out and to Cam’s
surprise, the pages easily turned beneath her touch.

“It likes you.”

She spun around. “More than happy to leave.”

He snatched her hand, drawing her back to his side. “Tell me
what you know about the book.”

“Not much. In the morning the page is blank, it fills in slowly
all day long. No matter where I hide it, the damn thing ends up on the dresser
or the desk by the time night falls.”

It was all he could do not to laugh at the exasperation in her
tone. “Does it just fill in one page a day?”

“So far, yes.”

“Move it over to the desk.”

“I don’t want to do this.”

Cam sat down at the small writing desk and nodded from the book
to the desk. Her personal feelings about the grimoire, or the risks surrounding
it, mattered little. Since the book had chosen her, she was going to help. It
was just that simple.

He wasn’t about to miss out on the chance to discover what the
grimoire contained. He had to know if there was anything in there that could
help him defeat the Learneds. This ancient clannish war had gone on too long; he
wanted it to end.

When Ariel folded her arms in front of her and shook her head,
he warned, “You can do this the easy way, or the hard way, but you are going to
help.”

“You can’t force me.”

“Don’t tempt me, Ariel.” He might not be able to control her
mind and actions with his thoughts, but there were other ways.

When she remained immobile, he shrugged. “Okay.” With a crook
of his finger, she was at his side. Cam pulled her down across his lap. “You
want to play?”

“No.” She turned her face away from his. “I should be
angry.”

“I’m sure you will be later—as will I.” He trailed a fingertip
along the side of her neck. “Right now, though, it seems the grimoire has
control of our emotions. At least while we’re in this room.”

Ariel thought the idea of anyone—or anything—having control
over Cameron Drake was ludicrous. “And you’re okay with that?”

“Are you implying I have control issues?”

“I’m not implying anything.”

Cam laughed at her answer before following his stroking finger
with his lips. She shivered beneath his touch. This was more than disconcerting,
it was dangerous.

There was one sure way to stop him. Ariel leaned over, grabbed
the grimoire and set it on the desk. “There.”

Just as she thought he would, Cam left off teasing her to stare
intently at the book. She took his concentration as an opportunity to slip off
his lap.

Before she could walk away, he hooked his fingers around her
wrist to keep her close. He wasn’t as distracted as she’d hoped.

“I’m not going to stand here all night.” She jiggled her
wrist.

Without turning away from the page, Cam nodded toward a chair
that instantly materialized on his other side. He released her, suggesting,
“Have a seat.”

After she perched on the edge of the chair, he said, “It’s a
curse.”

Ariel jumped up from the chair and stood behind Cam. “What’s
cursed?”

“I’m not sure.” He ran a finger beneath the symbols and
pictures. “This one here—” he tapped the first symbol “—is familiar. It shows
that a curse was spoken. Since the symbol is ancient, I can only assume the
curse was issued centuries ago.”

“And this concerns us, how?” She didn’t care about curses, or
the grimoire, for that matter. Ariel just wanted to find the pendant and the
cube and get out of the Lair before anything happened to Carl—or her.

Cam reached back and stroked her leg. “It concerns you because
I need you here.”

She closed her eyes. If he didn’t stop with the touching and
caressing, they’d be back on the bed naked and his precious book would be in the
closet.

“And it concerns me,” Cam continued, “because it seems to have
been placed on Nathan the Learned along with certain members of the Drake
family.”

She ran her fingers through his hair, almost jealous of the
silken softness. “Which members?”

“I’m not—” He tensed beneath her touch before rising.

“Cam?” She looked up at his furrowed brow and clenched jaw.
“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He headed for the door. “I forgot that I have an
appointment.”

“No. Wait. Tell me—” Before she could finish her sentence he
was gone.

Ariel went back to stare down at the book. He had to have seen,
or read, something that unsettled him. What?

She flipped the pages back and forth. The only thing she could
make sense of, besides the symbol he’d pointed out a few minutes ago, was a
brilliant picture of a sapphire dragon.

Ariel stepped back, confused. A sapphire dragon? Why would that
upset him so?

Knowing she’d find no answers staring at the grimoire, she left
the bedroom and stepped out onto the apartment’s balcony.

She shivered as the cold night air brushed across her face.
Hugging herself for warmth, Ariel stared up at the stars shimmering against the
blackness of the sky.

It seemed darker here than at home. Bereft of the constant glow
of city lights, stars appeared brighter…close enough to almost touch.

She breathed in deeply, savoring the scents of the forest…the
freshness of evergreens and the musty yet earthy aroma of dirt. The air green
and alive swelled her heart with longing. She needed to break free of the bonds
chaining her feet to the solid ground.

Ariel closed her eyes and leaned over the balcony’s railing,
straining to better feel the bracing rush of the wind.

The desires beckoning her weren’t normal—weren’t quite human, a
part of her knew this and recognized the longings as impossible. But the
pounding of her heart, the ache of her soul begged her to ignore the logical, to
instead listen to the cry of the imaginings, to leave logic and reasoning
behind.

She curled her fingers tighter around the icy-cold metal
railing, ensuring her hold on the tangible. And yet, in the same moment, felt
the wind embrace her, pulling her from the earthly confines to soar freely
toward the glittering stars.

Chapter 12

C
am whipped his sword through the musty air
of the basement wishing he had something more solid to fight than his
imagination.

There was nothing like a curse to give one’s life meaning. It
did, however, explain why his dragon had cared so little for Carol that it had
let her be killed.

Since there were no others like them, the beast had known they
would never find a mate, never know love. Their hunger and thirst were for
Learned blood, not home and hearth.

So, what made Ariel so different? Why this mind-robbing
physical attraction when they would never have a life together? It made no
sense. But then, when it came to his beast’s desire for Ariel, nothing made any
sense.

The knowledge of his destiny took away not only his breath, it
hammered at his will. What was the point of living alone—without a mate, without
love, without making memories of a life shared? Without even knowing what it
would be like to have a home and a family.

He threw his sword back into the storage chest. Battling
nothing but air did little good. He wanted to rage out loud—scream his human
frustration to the wind.

Cam clenched his jaw, fighting to ignore his beast’s dire need
to hurt something—to shed blood, to transfer this pain to another.

He raced up the stairs, out a back entrance and into the
blackness of the forest. He had to get away, needed to find a way to breathe, to
think.

From the tightening of his chest, he was certain his dragon
needed freedom as much as he did, Cam took one quick glance over his shoulder
before stepping off the side of the mountain.

The bite of the cold breeze settled beneath his wings, lifting
him toward the blinking stars. He craned his neck, stretching out the kinks from
the sudden shift from man to beast.

* * *

Aelthed bit the inside of his cheeks to keep from
laughing out loud. Doing so would risk detection. And that was the last thing he
wanted right now.

So, while the dragon twin had been unsuccessfully venting his
frustration, he’d sat in the corner of his cube sensing the twin’s anguish.

He knew the changeling had left, but he could still feel the
anger, the confusion and the heartrending longing swirling about the area.

It was obvious from the tumultuous conflict that the man had
managed to get the woman to help him with the grimoire. Good. It was past time
the changeling knew about the curse.

Now, if he could just learn to accept the beast, give it full
rein on its emotions, perhaps the curse could be broken.

It was impossible to tell if this woman would ever be the
dragon’s true mate. But from the scent of lust fulfilled hanging heavy in the
air, Aelthed knew the beast was already convinced.

Would the man come to accept or recognize that conviction? It
was hard to be certain. There was little else Aelthed could do except to keep
forcing the two of them together, whether the changeling liked it or not.

Satisfied that he’d done all he could today, he leaned back
against the wall and closed his eyes. He needed rest to gather strength for the
spell casting yet to come.

* * *

The stars brightly dotted the sky. The air, crisp and
clear, glided beneath his wings. A measure of quiet calm settled his frustration
and eased his confusion.

And yet, in the peacefulness of the night, Cam sensed that he
wasn’t alone.

Someone—or something—else had invaded his territory.

Startled out of his momentary tranquillity by an instinctual
response to protect what was his, he dipped low and circled back defensively
toward the Lair. A shadowy form glided just above the tops of the trees
surrounding the resort.

Head low, wings folded compactly against his body, Cam’s beast
aimed for the intruder. Moving in closer, he uncurled his talons, intent on
grasping the still-unsuspecting prey in order to break its neck and end the
looming threat.

Nostrils flared, lips slightly parted, he chuffed the air,
seeking a scent of the unfamiliar beast.

No.

Cam pulled up short.

Impossible.

His great beast pumped its wings backward to stop the assault
and tipped its head one way, then the other, in confusion. He ascended and
settled into lazy circles above the half-formed beast.

This was no intruder threatening his home and family. This
shadowy beast was a new changeling, still not capable of complete
transformation, let alone danger, doing nothing more than testing its wings.

Cam felt the changeling’s excitement, its awe at the feel of
air beneath its wings and wonderment at the open heavens above. He remembered
those emotions, those first few moments of absolute freedom and unadulterated
joy.

But neither the emotions nor the memories had pulled him up
short and confused his beast—it had been the scent. The all-too-familiar scent
of…Ariel.

Again he recognized that fact for what it was—
impossible
.

She was human. Of that he was certain. Ariel Johnson possessed
no magic outside of what a normal, ordinary woman possessed in relationship to a
man. He found her desirable. She aroused his passions with nothing more than the
slightest touch, or a look.

While that ability might be considered magical, it wasn’t true
magic.

His beast grunted, reminding him that he could think whatever
he wished, could gather whatever reasoning he wanted and hold it as close to his
heart as he wanted, but the proof was before them. How could he deny what he and
his beast saw or what they sensed?

Still—it wasn’t possible. For so long he’d wished not to be
alone that now he was imagining this. He and his beast only recognized the
changeling as Ariel because of their unwarranted attachment to the woman.

His beast’s long-drawn-out sigh was like a heavy weight against
his chest.

Determined to put an end to this nonsensical argument, Cam
prepared to descend, to make contact with this changeling. But just as his beast
angled its wings, the shadowy form looked up at them.

Before Cam could stop the other beast from leaving, the misty,
shadowy form disappeared.

He knew from experience that it would be impossible to follow
or track the changeling. How many times in the beginning had he been startled
from his misty dragon form by one thing or another only to find himself back in
his apartment shaken and confused as to what had happened.

It had taken months and many transformations before he’d been
able to admit what he was, what he’d become. He doubted if it would be any
different for this changeling.

And in the meantime, it would be impossible to know for certain
who the changeling was in human form. The one thing he did know for certain was
that it was not a member of his family. The changeling’s magic was far too weak
for it to be of Drake blood.

He ignored his beast’s repeated grunts. It wasn’t Ariel. And
even if it was, what difference did it make? The woman worked for the
Learneds.

Cam and his beast shivered at the sudden implication of that
uninviting thought.

To prove to himself that he had no worry on that front—that
the changeling wasn’t Ariel and that she wasn’t now a greater threat to him and
his family—he headed back to the Lair.

Landing on the balcony outside her bedroom, Cam shook off the
lingering buzz common after changing back into human form and then stepped
inside.

He nearly laughed with relief at finding her sound asleep on
her bed. If his memories served him correctly, she wouldn’t be this relaxed or
peaceful after an outing as a dragon—at least not the first few times.

His beast groaned softly in longing and regret, chasing away
Cam’s relief.

He crossed the room and stared down at Ariel. He longed to lie
beside her, to gather her into his arms and lose himself in passion and
lust.

She rolled over and looked up at him through half-opened eyes.
“What’s wrong?”

Cam sat on the edge of the bed to stroke her cheek. “Nothing.”
He kept his voice low and gentle to soothe her back into her dreams. “Go back to
sleep.”

Ariel covered his hand with one of her own. “Come to bed.”

It was painfully apparent that he and his beast had already
grown more attached to her than was safe. Compounding that attachment wouldn’t
be wise for either of them. But he had to keep her at the Lair until the
Learneds were defeated. And he would have to do so without adding more risk to
his physical and emotional safety.

Careful not to waken her further, he eased down onto the bed
alongside her. She burrowed against his chest, one hand beneath her cheek, the
other absently drawing circles on his back.

Cam swallowed hard. He hated this easy closeness, and despised
himself for being such a liar.

With his lips against her cheek, he whispered, “Go to sleep,
Ariel. Go to sleep and dream.”

As her breathing slowed, her fingertips grazed the mark on his
back. The oddly shaped dragon stretched in contentment beneath her touch.

Cameron drew in a long breath, quelling the sudden urge to
awaken her with heated caresses. He rested his forehead against hers and fell
headlong into her dream.

Startled that he’d once again left reality behind through no
plan of his own, Cam groaned. Didn’t his beast understand that this was the last
place he wanted to be?

Gentle waves lapped upon the sandy white beach. The shimmering
sunlight enveloped him with warmth.

He turned to search the beach, knowing exactly where to find
Ariel and her dream version of him. They were together in the hammock that was
still tied between two palm trees.

A shadow passed overhead. Cam knew without looking up that his
dragon was also here. He felt the beast’s torment, and recognized it for what it
was—jealousy of the man with Ariel.

If it wasn’t so pathetic, he’d laugh. But at the moment, he was
grateful that this unwarranted anger emanating from his beast existed only in a
dream.

Not wanting to be seen, and not wanting to intrude, Cam forced
himself out of Ariel’s imagined fantasy.

Careful not to awaken her, he inched away from her lax embrace.
Once free of the bed, he tucked the covers around her, then crossed the room to
sit at the desk, staring at the grimoire.

She must have been looking at the book after he’d left earlier,
because it was no longer open to the pages with the curse.

He watched, fascinated, as symbols and colorful drawings slowly
spilled their way onto the pages.

When Braeden had explained this process to him, he’d taken the
story with a grain of salt. Now he knew that his brother hadn’t exaggerated—the
grimoire did fill in the pages on its own.

The intricate magic in action shouldn’t surprise him. After
all, the family volume had been originally created centuries ago by a High
Wizard.

And given his family’s history, why wouldn’t this item be
magical, too?

He could only hope that eventually it would see fit to show him
how to deal with the Learneds.