Kiss of a Dragon (Fallen Immortals 1) - Paranormal Fairytale Romance (9 page)

The disdain on Zephan’s face couldn’t be more clear. “If I wished to send you a message, trust me, you would receive it.”

The fae were such assholes. “Have you lost a demon or two?” Lucian asked. “I killed one last night.”

“Did you? How unfortunate. You could’ve simply turned it back over to me.” Zephan’s apparent disinterest in the topic meant nothing. The fae were cold, calculating, and ambitious… and Zephan, with his facial runes identifying him as part of the Winter Court, was the prototypical example of a ruthless fae who would do or say anything to achieve his aims. Not that the fae could lie—not technically, anyway—but they were master manipulators. Not a word out of their mouths could be trusted, and their code of honor extended only to the exact letter of the law.

Or, in this case, treaty.

“This demon was half human,” Lucian said. “I’ll not be turning such a pitiful creature over to likes ofyou.” He didn’t know what the fae did with their demons—their dark arts brought them into existence, and just like Lucian’s fae runes, they could dispel them as well. They could conjure whatever demons they liked to serve them at court, but sending them out into the mortal world was strictly forbidden by the treaty. Lucian had no love for the predators who existed among the human population, whether demon halflings or not, but the fae took ruthlessness to a level that would shame the darkest human heart. Under no circumstances would he turn over something even half human to them.

Zephan snorted, his disgust thick in the air. “Well, I can’t be accountable for some stray half demon showing up in your little human city. Our treaty clearly states that we will keep demons in abeyance and out of the mortal realm. There is no mention of halflings. I have no responsibility for that whatsoever.”

“How the hell do you think a halfling is made, Zephan?” Leksander asked. In spite of their fae heritage, Lucian had a dragon’s proper level of loathing for the fae; Leksander took his to another level. Lucian sometimes suspected the reason his brother was so drawn to angels, the fae’s natural enemy, was precisely because he loathed the fae within himself.

Zephan waved away Leksander’s accusation. “Who knows what you found roaming the streets of Seattle. That is none of my concern. It could simply be a leftover of some small cell of rogue demons hiding away and making their appearance only now.”

That explanation was so patently ridiculous, Leksander snarled at the insult.

The sound set Zephan’s runes twitching, the magic roiling under his skin. “Or,” he said archly, “the humans and their technology have advanced to the point of creating demons. Perhaps in a test tube. I hear that is a thing now.”

Lucian’s eyes narrowed. How much did the fae know about the human world? How much did they know about
anything?
He had often wondered at their ability to know things they couldn’t possibly have access to as if they had some magical spying ability he was unaware of. The fae were far more a mystery than a known quantity.

“Perhaps the Summer Court is involved,” Leksander said, coolly.

Lucian shot him a glance. Those were fighting words. Why was he trying to rile up dissent between the courts? That could only cause trouble for the House of Smoke trying to keep the peace. Besides, Leksander knew the Summer Court didn’t traffic in demons, even in ancient times.

Zephan pulled a face at that insult. Which was a genuine accomplishment on Leksander’s part. “As if the Summer Court could do anything so subtle as conjure a demon that could escape your notice for the better part of three centuries.”

Lucian narrowed his eyes. Was the fae prince bragging now? “What the hell, Zephan? Are you
admitting
you’re in violation of—”

Zephan’s eyes flashed, and a pulse of magical energy stronger than anything Lucian could generate emanated from the fae—a wave that nearly knocked Leksander from the ledge. “I am in violation of nothing.”

“Fuck, Zephan,” Leksander muttered as he shifted to claws to keep hold of the narrow ledge.

“A little touchy on that subject, are we?” Lucian asked. The fae were never more dangerous than when they were possibly being caught out on something.

“You forget your place, dragon.” But Zephan was regaining his icy fae coolness. “It’s best that you have an occasional reminder.”

Lucian didn’t need a reminder that the fae were far more powerful in magic than dragons could ever dream of commanding. It was the fae blood which ran through his veins that gave him any powers at all, beyond common dragon magic. It was the treaty, and the treaty alone, that kept the fae from running roughshod over the mortal world.

“Is that why you’re here?” Leksander asked. “To remind us of our place?”

“In fact, I came because I hear you have a new human lover, Lucian.” Zephan’s eyes drilled into him, and that icy coldness flushed straight to his core.

“Word travels fast.” How the
fuck
did Zephan know about Arabella? Lucian steeled himself from throwing a glance at his brother. He knew Leksander would never breathe a word of anything to the fae.
Ever.
Under any circumstances. That left Leonidas, but Lucian couldn’t imagine his more loose-tongued brother blasting out information about Lucian’s bed partners to the Winter Court. Not to mention Arabella hadn’t even made it into his bed. Well, at least not for the kind of activity his lusty dragon side desired.

Which only made him think that perhaps the demon he destroyed actually had been part of the Winter Court. Had it somehow communicated with its fae master before its demise?

“Lucian’s lovers are none of your concern,” Leksander threw out, making Lucian cringe.

Because of course, that wasn’t true at all.

“Is that so?” Zephan asked, his icy stare still trained on Lucian. “Because if you’re on the cusp of renewing the treaty for another five hundred years, well, that interests me very much. It would be a shame, my dear prince, to have another tragic loss in the House of Smoke. You don’t have much luck with mates, do you?”

Lucian had to restrain himself from shifting and taking a bite out of the fae. “We’re done here.”

He turned his back on Zephan and shifted, spreading his wings as he leaped off the perch.

“Do let me know if there’s a birthing ceremony I need to attend!” Lucian heard Zephan calling behind him. Then, thankfully, the wind was in his ears, and the scent of the dark fae was behind him. He heard a whisper of wings coming alongside, Leksander quickly catching up. Lucian thought briefly about running ahead to the keep. That horrible twitching feeling was back—the one that said he needed to be by Arabella’s side. It was a bad sign.

Do you think he’s telling the truth?
Leksander’s thought floated past the angry and agitated part of Lucian’s mind.

The fae never tell you a lie, but they sure as hell never tell you the truth,
Lucian answered. His brother knew this.

You speak the truth on that,
Leksander thought.
But I cannot decide if this is some convoluted, secret plan by the fae to infiltrate the human population with demon halflings as if that were some way to get around the treaty… or if it is simply a human thing.

What do you mean?
Lucian cocked his head to glance at his brother’s dragon form flying next to him. Leksander was a silver dragon, and the glints of morning sun on his scales made him look ethereal, like the angelings he loved so much.

What if the hatred that has been stirred up in the city recently has unleashed a whole other side of humanity? I love the humans, Lucian, truly I do, but they have their darker moments. Maybe this is a new part of them. A mutation.

Holy mother of magic… that would put a horrible twist on things.
That would be a hell of a loophole for the fae with the treaty,
he sent to Leksander.

Yes. A dangerously large loophole.
Leksander swooped and banked towards the portal at the top of the meeting room.

Lucian growled.
Or perhaps they were demons planted by the Winter Court, and they are simply feeding on the hate that has been fomenting in Seattle. That’s Leonidas’s theory.

Leksander alit on top of the keep.
I hope you’re right, my brother. But perhaps I should conference with the angelings to see if they have any insights into this.

Lucian smirked. Leksander would take any excuse he could to get close to his favorite slayer.
Do that. But I also want regular patrols of the city. We’ll take shifts—you, me, and Leonidas. I want to catch one of these demons in the act and do more than destroy it… I want to track down its master.

Understood.
Leksander lifted off again, leaving the keep and heading for the angel realm he loved.

Lucian shifted on his way down through the portal, conjuring clothes as well. His mind was in a twist. Zephan’s interest in and knowledge of the fact that Arabella was in the keep sent shivers of anger and a small touch of fear through him.

He didn’t like the fae even
knowing
about his treasure.

And a threat from a fae prince—however vague—was something too dangerous to ignore.

Arabella was arriving in Seattle
like she was royalty.

There was no other way to describe the smooth-as-glass ride, the rich cream leather interior, the sparkling electronics everywhere, from the mounted tablet to the flat screen TV instead of a rear window—even the coffee maker was some kind of high-end electronic gadget she didn’t understand. Lucian Smoke certainly knew how to travel in style. The limousine was decked out with every creature comfort, including heated seats and fresh, crushed ice. And with Lucian’s right-hand-dragon driving, she had Lucian sitting next to her on the bench seat. And he was much closer than he needed to be. Seriously, there were at least a dozen seats in the stretch limo, yet he was sitting right next to her, peering into her eyes, and asking her earnest questions about how to approach his date.

Although “date” was a pretty loose term. He was going to hook up with a green-eyed girl in a hotel. A girl who was definitely not named
Arabella.

This shouldn’t bother her in the slightest—okay, maybe she was due a small amount of envy of the hot sex the two of them would have—but there was nothing to account for the quiver of nerves in her stomach. Was she worried this girl wouldn’t fall madly in love with Lucian like Arabella needed her to? She honestly had a hard time picturing that happening. The man had the face of a god, the body of an angel—even when not in dragon form—and oozed sex appeal. Plus he was kind and decent, in spite of the weird situation they were in. Or maybe even more so because of it. This woman—Sandra was her name—was getting far more than the hot action she signed up for on the WildLove app. If Arabella had any money to spare beyond paying the rent, she would totally bet on Sandra losing her heart to Lucian’s charms with the first orgasm—that was like money in the bank.

“Are you sure I shouldn’t take her to coffee first?” Lucian was asking for the third time.

“If a woman says
meet me at this hotel room,
and you take her to coffee instead, she’s going to rightly wonder what’s wrong with you.” She swallowed down the dryness in her throat. “You don’t want her to think you’re not hot for her. Not a good way to start.”

His gaze dropped to examine her hands, which lay in her lap, the knuckles of one pounding the flat palm of the other—it was her nervous tic, the one she subconsciously deployed whenever she was agitated.

Lucian gently laid a hand on top of hers. “Are you all right?”

She forced her hands to lie still. “I’m fine.” Only she wasn’t. She needed to hit the gym and kick the shit out of something for a while. Or find a partner for some judo and expend energy that way. That was her go-to relief when the endless stretches of sexual tension had built up and needed more release than her vibrator could give. And she’d built up a lifetime’s worth of sexual tension over the last three days in the presence of Lucian Smoke. Every time he was near, he kept giving her these intense looks and small touches, and dammit, that manly
smell
of his… it was like she was constantly floating in a sea of testosterone, and her body was in a perpetual state of heat. Agitation.
Need.
For God’s sake—the man was undeniably hot, but this unrelenting sexual tension was driving her insane. She could hardly think straight.

 “Are you worried about returning to the city?” he asked, the concern deep on his face.

“No.”

Lucian was convinced that Seattle wasn’t safe, going on round after round of patrols for demons like the one who attacked her. She’d tried to explain the guy was just a client’s maniac boyfriend, but Lucian was having none of it. So, when he finally settled on a WildLove hookup—after she pestered him for days to accept someone; for some reason, he kept stalling—she’d talked him into letting her return to her office as well, just for a few hours. She’d get some work done while he was off screwing his potential future mate in a hotel. And that really shouldn’t bother her. Because dammit, it was her idea. But it did. “I really do have a life, you know.”
Shit.
Even she could hear the defensiveness in that.