Hidden Embers (21 page)

“Good luck with that. Atlanta’s about twenty-two hours in that direction.”

“You know what I mean.”

She did, and it would be a cold day in hell before she let him drive her like some helpless little girl who couldn’t take care of herself. She’d lived that life once, in her parents’ house, and she never would again. She wasn’t that kind of woman.

“I can get myself to Phoebe’s,” she said, as she slid into the driver’s seat. “I have a GPS and directions. Go home and get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I told you, I’ll take you.” His eyes glittered with menace, the bright green of the dragon more intimidating in that moment than she liked to admit. All the more reason to stand her ground.

“And I told you, I don’t need a babysitter. But thanks for the sex. It was fun.” She yanked the car door shut, slamming the lock down before she slid the key into the ignition. Quinn looked like he was going to explode, and she didn’t want to take any chances. She wasn’t flame-proof, after all.

“Jazz!” His hands came down on the hood of her car, hard, and she jumped a little at the impact. Which only made her angrier. She didn’t appreciate scare tactics from men.

She programmed Phoebe’s address into her GPS, started the car and began pulling forward. Quinn tried to block her way with his massive body, and she rolled her eyes—hadn’t she just done this? Nice of him to remind her that all men were the same, even those who were dragons underneath.

Completely pissed off, she handled him the same way she’d handled the other guys—by hitting the gas and waiting for him to jump out of the way. Only, unlike the two assholes in Fort Stockton, she really didn’t want to hurt Quinn. At the last second, when he didn’t move, she swerved to miss him. Then drove to the edge of the parking lot and hung a left without so much as a backward glance.

As she sped away from the lab, she couldn’t resist rolling her window down and flipping him off. Bastard. If he really thought he was going to tell her what to do, he was in for a shock. Dragon or no dragon, Jasmine Kane bowed to no man. Better Quinn learn that now.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Q
uinn watched in shock as Jasmine flipped him the bird right before she turned the corner and drove out of sight.
What the hell set her off?
he wondered, still too startled to be angry. He’d been trying to help. She was obviously tired, obviously injured, and he’d wanted to take care of her. To make things easy on her. What was so bad about that? In his world that was what a good mate did. Took care of his female when she was too weak or too tired to take care of herself.

Besides, he’d spent the last year standing by helplessly while people he cared about died, one after the other. It had felt good to be able to do something for Jasmine, even if it was a little thing like carrying her to her car when it obviously hurt her to walk. There’d been no reason for her to go off the deep end like that, let alone try to run him over. For the first time, he had a little sympathy for the guys who’d hassled her in Fort Stockton. Jasmine was a lot tougher—a lot harder—than she looked. It made her pretty much the exact opposite of the kind of mate he’d ever thought of ending up with.

Yet, he wasn’t ready to walk away from her. Even though he knew he probably should for a lot of reasons, including the fact that the last thing he needed in his life right now was a woman—a human woman—who thought running him over was an acceptable way to settle their differences. Again, was it the mating bond that made him feel this way about her, or was it Jasmine herself? Certainly he liked those glimpses of her he got when she was relaxed or comfortable enough to lower her guard.

But was that enough, he wondered, to build a lifetime on? He didn’t know. Normally, his people only became mates after both had chosen to do so. This whole mate at first meeting thing was the stuff of legends, but he’d never met anyone it had actually happened to.

Wasn’t that just typical? His whole life he’d been doing things just a little differently from everyone else. It figured that he would be odd man out when it came to this, too.

Still, this isn’t what he’d wanted—a mate who was volatile and prickly and so independent that she would rather suffer than let him help her. His entire life was spent fighting—from the battles he waged to heal badly injured clan members to the war against the Wyvernmoons. The last thing he wanted was a personal life as volatile as his professional one, no matter how fleeting the relationship was.

And yet he couldn’t just leave Jazz out there alone, he thought, and he started to undress. He hadn’t been joking when he’d told her that Dylan had marked her as being under the protection of the Dragonstar clan. The mark gave her a certain amount of protection—more, certainly, than she would have without it—but it also made her a target for their enemies. Letting her wander around a town she didn’t know, especially with a traitor on the loose and the Wyvernmoons doing everything they could to hurt the clan, was asking for trouble.

When he was naked, his clothes safely stowed away in the pouch around his neck, he started to shift. It took a little longer than normal—he’d shifted too many times in the last twenty-four hours for it to be quick and easy. He ignored the additional pain, and as soon as he was able he launched himself straight into the air and took off after Jasmine. The fact that he knew where she was going, and that she had to obey traffic laws, gave him the advantage, and within a couple of minutes he’d caught up to her.

Part of him wanted to land right on the top of her damn car, and say to hell with the whole invisibility thing while he was at it, but four centuries of caution made such behavior anathema.

Still, it was surprisingly tempting. The way she’d sped away from him aroused his predatory instincts. While he prided himself on his ability to reason his way through even his most animalistic instincts, something about this whole situation was fucking with his head in a big way.

Unable to stop himself, he swooped down next to the driver’s window and dropped the spell he used to make himself invisible—just for a moment. Partly, he wanted to let her know she wasn’t alone, and partly he just wanted to mess with her the way she was messing with him. He wanted to show her that it would take a lot more than trying to hit him with a car to scare him off.

She did a double take, hitting her brakes hard, and he couldn’t deny the surge of satisfaction he felt. Was it juvenile? Absolutely. Mean-spirited? Probably. But it was also amusing as hell, especially when she started mouthing curses at him like a drunken sailor. He couldn’t hear what she was saying, but he read lips well enough to know that Jasmine had a talent for stringing words together in the most uncomplimentary manner possible.

He backed off, content to follow her for the next few blocks until she turned into the driveway of the house Dylan and Phoebe kept for visitors. Most of the time they lived deep in the cave he’d spent most of his day in, which was a few miles from his own, but while Jasmine was in town he was pretty sure they would stay at the house. Very few people who weren’t true clan members were ever invited into Dylan’s private cave. This was as it should be.

Still, he was almost disappointed when Phoebe came out of the house before Jasmine had even managed to turn her headlights off. He’d been looking forward to escorting her to the door and listening to her berate him as he did. It was sick and twisted, particularly for a man who wanted peace more than he wanted his next breath, but something about Jasmine brought out the masochist in him.

He watched from on top of the roof as Jasmine grabbed her suitcase and a small, black medical bag from her trunk, then followed Phoebe toward the house. At the last second Jasmine glanced up at the roof and glared. It was a definite fuck-you, and it surprised him so much he almost lost his perch on the slanting tiles.

How had she known where he was when he was invisible? Phoebe could have sensed him—dragons usually could sense other dragons, invisible or not—but she was new to their world, still learning their ways. She’d given no indication that she’d known he was there, and surely she would have waved if she had noticed him.

No, somehow Jasmine had figured out where he was without Phoebe tipping her off. Maybe she’d just been guessing. After all, the roof was the best place for a very large dragon to land. It wasn’t as if there were tons of places to hang out where he wouldn’t be in the way, since even though he was invisible, his bulk still took up space. People could still walk into him if he was blocking the sidewalk and cars could still hit him in the street.

That had to be it, he decided uneasily, as he heard the front door close. She hadn’t known he was on the roof—she’d just been playing the odds. Yeah, right. And if he believed that, someone probably had a bridge they wanted to sell him.

God, mating had more nuances than he had ever imagined—and he hadn’t even told Jasmine they were mated. Considering her reaction to his attempt to heal her, he didn’t even want to imagine what she’d say about the whole bound for eternity thing.

Deep in thought, he took the long way back to his own cave. He was tired, exhausted really, yet for the first time in a long time he was enjoying the night. The stars looked brighter than usual, the desert less stark and lonely. The night air felt great brushing against his face, his scales, and he closed his eyes, reveling in the beauty all around him.

As he flew, he paid attention to his surroundings, to the night animals whirling through the sky below him and scampering across the dark desert sand. More than once he found himself wishing he could show Jasmine something amusing, only to remember that it was impossible. She wasn’t dragon. She couldn’t fly with him, and even if he carried her, her human eyes would never be able to see what his could.

The dragon didn’t care about any of that. He just wanted her next to him as he flew, wanted her under him while he did all kinds of wicked things to her body. And he had to admit, the beast had a point. Jasmine was completely unsuitable for him and everything he didn’t want in a mate, but she sure as hell got his blood pumping.

What he was supposed to do with her beyond that was anybody’s guess.

The markers leading up to his cave—invisible to all but him—appeared below, and Quinn plunged downward. He loved this part, loved the feel of the wind as it rushed past his face. Loved the way the ground rushed up to meet him. Loved the pounding of his heart as he waited until the last second to pull up.

The ground was looming closer and closer. He knew he should pull up. He was getting too close. But he just tucked his wings in and arrowed straight at the ground.

Suddenly a huge red and bronze dragon came out of nowhere and knocked into him, hard. Quinn went spinning backward through the air. After a few hundred yards, he got his equilibrium back. When he finally managed to stop somersaulting, he dropped to the ground. He’d started shifting before his feet touched the ground.

“What the hell was that!” he yelled, striding back to where the dragon was standing, watching him with fiery eyes. “You could have killed both of us.”

The other dragon finally started to shift and Quinn waited impatiently as its wings folded against its back, compressing until they became muscle again. Next were the talons, followed by a shift in skin color and texture, the reshaping of the skeletal structure and finally, the rehumanization of the features.

“I was trying to save your sorry ass!” Logan yelled back, completely unconcerned that they were both naked. It was hard to maintain any modesty among shifters. “What the fuck were you thinking?”

“I was thinking that I like freedom and speed. I wasn’t going to do anything stupid.”

“Yeah, well, too late. That was the dumbest stunt I’ve ever seen. There was no way you were going to pull up before you hit the ground, and we both know it.”

“Do we?” baited Quinn. “I’ve done it before.”

“Really? That means you’re even stupider than I thought. And I didn’t think that was possible.”

“Careful. You’ve already hit me once tonight. Keep pushing and I’ll start pushing back.”

“Well, that would be an improvement, wouldn’t it?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You think I don’t know you well enough to see what you’re going through?” Logan demanded. “You’re off your game, Quinn, and more fucked up than I’ve ever seen you.”

“You’re exaggerating.”

“Bullshit. You just don’t know when to ask for help. You’ve had a crap year, man. A crap few years. No one’s denying that. But you can’t do this.”

Quinn’s fingers wanted to curl into fists, but he kept them relaxed with an effort. “Can’t do what?”

“Can’t go getting all self-destructive, you know? Things are going to get better.”

“Are they? Really?”

“Of course they are!” Logan clapped him on the back. “It just takes time.”

The slap on the back turned his tolerance to impatience. A man could be expected to take only so much feel-good bullshit, especially from another naked man. “Wow, you’re pulling out all the stops tonight. Where did you get that—a Hallmark card?”

Logan’s eyes narrowed when he realized Quinn was messing with him. “Fuck you. I’m worried about you.”

“Awww, that’s so sweet. Now I feel all warm and fuzzy inside.” He reached out and shoved Logan hard enough that his friend stumbled back a good five yards.

“Shit.” Logan caught himself before his bare ass hit the desert sand, but it was damn close. Quinn couldn’t help being a little disappointed. Maybe he could get another shot in.

“Don’t even try it, asshole.” Logan shoved past him and headed for Quinn’s cave. “And don’t ever say ‘warm and fuzzy’ again. It makes you sound like an idiot—especially when you’re naked.”

For the first time in longer than he could remember, Quinn really laughed. It felt good. “Well, isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black. What the hell was all that ‘Things will get better’ bullshit, anyway?”

“Excuse me for being concerned. I wasn’t going to watch you commit suicide—I was trying to be all sensitive and shit.” With the ease of long friendship, Logan strode straight through the outer chambers of the cave into the back section Quinn used as a bedroom. He yanked a couple pairs of jeans out of a drawer, followed by a couple of T-shirts, then fired one of each at Quinn.