Master of Dragons (14 page)

Unfortunately, there was still the problem of destroying the Fae's wards, which could only be done from within. Arralt was willing to cooperate in exchange for being allowed to rule the Sidhe as king, but Rakatvira did not entirely trust him.

He did, however, trust Varza, who knew better than to betray him. While she was too alien to pass for Sidhe, she was skilled in possession spells, and Arralt's entourage included the perfect victim.

So Varza had promptly seized the body of Arralt's lover, Ceredith, slaying her spirit with death magic. The general hadn't uttered a word of protest, though she'd seen the ghost of regret in his eyes.

Varza had been a bit regretful herself. The plan meant leaving her own body in Rakatvira's less-than-tender hands, but there was no help for it.

Luckily, the scheme had worked. The Fae wards had not recognized her as a servant of the Dark Ones, encased as she was in a Sidhe's flesh.

Varza had been well-repaid for her sacrifices. For the first time in her life, she tasted true freedom as she'd worked by Arralt's side. She'd have been tempted to double-cross her master, but she knew Rakatvira would have promptly slain her body, which would have killed her on the spot.

The only glitch had been the failure to capture Nineva and the werewolf. If the alternate plan didn't work, Varza had the ugly feeling she'd be her master's next sacrifice.

Somewhat to Nineva's
surprise, she found the next week to be the most idyllic she'd ever known. She and Kel spent the time making love, eating, and sleeping in each other's arms. In between bouts of passion, they talked about their lives. Kel had a seemingly endless collection of war stories about his adventures with Gawain that alternated between hysterical and hair-raising. She'd never spent so much time with a man in her life, or enjoyed it as much.

Which might explain why she'd never realized how lonely she'd been.

The lone blight on her budding happiness was guilt, born of the knowledge that everyone else was engaged in a desperate search for Grim and the sword. Magekind and Sidhe teams questioned Morvenian civilians or scouted the planet, seeking any clue to the location of the rebel stronghold. Unfortunately, they'd had absolutely no luck.

When she mentioned her guilt to Kel, he pointed out that the two of them were doing something that might well pay off faster than anyone else's efforts. And he had a point. Semira seemed to grow stronger each time they made love, though Nineva still hadn't managed to determine where she was being held.

The other problem was that Nineva was still having nightmares about Kel. After a particularly violent one woke her one night, he decided they both needed a change of pace.

 

The long, low
brick building seemed to glow with magic and vibrate with music. Blue neon formed a pointed wizard's hat over the doorway, with the name “MageClub” spelled out in flashing red beneath it.

Nineva lifted her brows and hooked both hands through Kel's elbow. “This looks familiar.”

He glanced down at her. “Oh?”

“Yeah. I've worked at a dozen places just like this.”

Kel grinned. “Oh, I doubt you've worked anywhere like the MageClub.”

Still, she felt right at home when they stepped inside. A massive brass and mahogany bar took up one end of the long room, surrounded by small round tables and a few booths, all crowded with laughing, jostling people. The rest of the space was dominated by an impressive dance floor on which a number of couples spun and gyrated to a throbbing rock beat.

“Pretty good crowd,” Kel commented. “Probably blowing off steam from the search.”

“Oh?”

He shrugged. “I've seen it before. The Magekind can spend only so much time beating their collective heads against a brick wall before they have to get drunk and start something.”

“Well, that doesn't sound very mature.”

“Hey, they may be immortal ass-kickers, but they're still only human.”

Catching her hand, he drew her through the crowd to the bar. Nineva ordered a rum and Coke while Kel asked for a draft beer. She watched with professional interest as the bartender produced them, admiring his brisk, unflappable skill despite the flurry of orders coming at him from all directions. “Nice work,” she told him as he flipped a cherry into her drink and handed it over.

“It's a nice change from killing terrorists.” The man gave her a wink. He was, of course, disgustingly handsome.

“Kel!” A female voice shouted in her ear. It was high and giggly with an unmistakable note of intoxication Nineva recognized from professional experience. “There you are!”

Somebody jostled her elbow. Barely saving her drink, Nineva turned to find that a well-endowed blonde had wrapped herself around Kel like a fur stole. The woman's red dress hugged every lush curve, while its brief hemline displayed about a mile of leg. Her heart-shaped face was a match for that stunning body, with big blue eyes and a centerfold's mouth.

“Hello, Clare.” Discomfort obvious in his eyes, he met Nineva's astonished gaze and tried to peel the blonde's arms from around his neck. “Nice to…uh…see you.”

“I've been looking for you everywhere,” the woman bur-bled, clinging more tightly. She grinned up at him tipsily. “I'm in the mood for a little lizard lovin'.”

“Ah.” Kel finally succeeded in unwrapping her and set her back on her red stiletto heels. “Clare, this is my new partner, Princess Nineva. Nineva, Clare Amatto.”

“Partner?” Not at all discomfitted, Clare gave her a merry smile, big blue eyes sparkling and friendly. Apparently she wasn't the jealous type. “Lucky girl. Has he shown you what he can do with his tongue?” Her grin widened. “Once you've had forked, you'll never go back.”

Nineva's eyes widened. “Forked?”

“Oh, yeah. Combine that with the looooong dragon di—”

“Clare,” Kel interrupted desperately, “I need to show Nineva around. Be a good girl and—”

“But I've missed you.” Clare pouted, her lush mouth exactly matching the scarlet of her dress. “Your little friend won't mind sharing. Right?” She shot Nineva a pleading look.

Nineva managed not to bare her teeth. “Actually, I do.” And she did mind, she realized. Violently.

“But there's plenty of him to go around,” Clare said, with the earnestness of the truly drunk. She gave Kel an amorous grin. “Plenty. Lots and lots and
lots
.”

Nineva felt her hands curl into claws, then made an effort to relax them. What the hell was wrong with her? It wasn't as if they were dating, for God's sake. They might be sleeping together, but it was only to power the goddess, find the sword, and stop the Dark Ones. Hell, half the time he gave her screaming nightmares.

So why did she want to scratch this horny little witch bald-headed?

To fight the temptation, she folded her arms and watched Kel struggle to convince Clare they really weren't interested in a threesome.

“Since your friend is busy,” a male voice purred in her ear, “perhaps you'd like to dance?”

Nineva turned to find one of the most handsome men she'd ever seen watching her with dark, soulful eyes. Tousled black hair fell over his forehead, and his mouth looked deliciously sensual. His face was chiseled in a way that reminded her vaguely of some actor, though she couldn't put her finger on just who. He was three or four inches shorter than Kel, but that only made his shoulders look broader in his white silk shirt. Black slacks hugged muscled thighs and fell around narrow, booted feet.

“Dominic Bonhomme,” he told her, with a courtier's bow of that gleaming dark head.

“But Kellll,” Clare cooed behind her, “I've missed you so! And I'm so…”

In no mood to hear the rest, she said between her teeth, “I'm Nineva Morrow. And I'd love to dance.”

 

Just as Kel
hit the limits of his patience, Tristan appeared from the crowd with that sense of perfect timing that made him such a superb warrior. “Clare, darlin', I think I should take you home and put you to bed.” Taking her by the upper arm, he helped Kel peel her off.

“Tristan!” Clare's smile was sunny and oblivious. “Would
you
like a threesome?”

“Sorry, he's not my type.” He brushed a thumb across her cheek and turned her toward the door. “But you are. Come on, love. In the morning, I'll feed you a nice hangover remedy and keep you from dying of embarrassment—though if you're really lucky, you won't remember a damned thing.”

“You're so sweet!”

“Not really, but I am willing to pretend.” He led her away.

Kel blew out a breath in relief and made a mental note that he owed his brother knight a rescue. “Sorry about that, Nineva…” He turned.

She was heading for the dance floor with Dominic Bonhomme, Court Seducer of Avalon. Her back was straight and stiff with indignation. Dominic looked back over his shoulder and gave Kel an unrepentant wink.

That smarmy little…
Kel took a long step forward.

A hand landed on his shoulder. “Let's talk.” Gawain hauled him toward one of the booths that surrounded the dance floor.

“After I kick Dominic's ass.”

“No. Now. Besides, it wouldn't be any fun. Dominic's nowhere near your weight class.”

Kel snorted. “I'm a forty-foot dragon.
Nobody
in Avalon is anywhere near my weight class.”

“My point exactly.”

Gawain's lovely dark-haired wife looked up from her drink as he pushed Kel down into a seat. “Hi, Kel.”

“Hi, Lark.”

The growl in his voice sent her brows up. “Is this going to be one of those man-to-dragon conversations?”

“Probably,” Gawain said.

Lark followed Kel's gaze to the dance floor, where Dominic was spinning Nineva into a practiced turn. “Ahh. Well, in that case, I'll give you two some privacy.” She rose and glided away, her emerald dress swirling around her long thighs.

Kel barely noticed, too busy glowering at Dominic and Nineva. “Fair fight or not, Bonhomme needs his teeth knocked in.”

“Uh huh.” Gawain hooked a brawny arm across the back of the booth. “You do realize you're breathing smoke?”

He was right. Twin sparkling plumes of pure rage streamed from Kel's nostrils. He made an effort to regain control before he did something he'd regret.

Enjoy, but regret. “I never liked that son of a bitch.”

Bonhomme caught Nineva's hand and pulled her close.

“He does love to stir up trouble when he sees an opportunity.” Gawain's green eyes were cool and curious on his face. “I'm just surprised he sees one in you. You've never gotten bent out of shape about a woman before.”

“She's not a woman,” Kel growled. “She's a princess of the Sidhe, a professional martyr, and the only hope we've got of stopping the Dark Ones.”

“A
professional
martyr?”

Kel rubbed a thumb between his aching brows as Dominic swooped Nineva into a dip. She was laughing. “Yeah.” He ground his teeth and fought the impulse to stalk onto the dance floor and jerk her away from the too-handsome vampire. “There's this prophecy. It's not helping.”

“What kind of prophecy?”

“The kind that says I'm going to incinerate her.”

“What?”

Grimly, Kel related the story. “Nineva's been having nightmares about it for years,” he concluded. “In fact, she had one earlier tonight, which is why I brought her here to begin with. I was hoping to distract her.” He watched her cling to Bonhomme, giggling as the vampire tangoed her around the dance floor with professional skill. “It seems to be working.”

“Sounds like you should cut your losses and join Tristan and Clare for that threesome.”

Kel snorted. “As somebody's already noted, Tristan's not my type. Besides, I've still got to power Nineva's goddess for her.”

“Who died and made you the Energizer Bunny?”

Kel's explanation made him whistle. “So basically,” Gawain said when he finished, “you've got a licence to have all the sex you want. And she couldn't go home with Bonhomme if she wanted to, because he's not a dragon.”

“Somehow I don't find that comforting.” Nineva and Dominic had segued into something slow and seductive, with plenty of pelvic contact. The vampire seemed to be whispering something in her ear.

“Yeah, you've got it bad.” Gawain watched him with equal parts amusement and sympathy.

Kel shrugged, pretending unconcern. “So I've got a little crush. It's not as if dragons mate for life. I doubt I'm even capable of love.”

“That's the biggest pile of horseshit I've ever heard.”

He blinked, startled by his friend's savage tone.

“We were linked for fifteen centuries, Gecko,” Gawain said roughly. “I know exactly what you're capable of.”

“She doesn't trust me, 'Wain.” The words came out more naked than he'd intended.

“She will.” Gawain's smile was knowing. “You're a trustworthy kind of guy.”

 

Dominic Bonhomme was
handsome, charming, and seductive, with warm dark eyes and a sexy Italian accent that gave his vowels a faint slur. He danced with an offhand skill, hips rolling to the sensual beat of the music.

But Nineva's gaze kept straying to Kel's strong profile as he talked to Gawain, his expression intense.

“Am I boring you?” Dominic breathed in her ear. Nuzzling her neck, he added, “I certainly hope not. You smell delicious.”

Given that he was a vampire, Nineva wondered if he meant that literally. She braced her hands against his shoulders and pushed him back to a more comfortable distance. “Ah—thanks.”

“I've always wanted to taste a pretty Sidhe girl,” he purred. “Would you like to go home with me?”

Nineva stiffened. “No, I would not.”

“But just think how jealous it would make your dragon.”

“He's not my dragon. And even if he was, I don't play games like that.”

He lifted a dark brow. “You did agree to dance with me.”

“And I shouldn't have.”

“No.” Dominic flashed white fangs. “You really shouldn't have.”

She glowered at him. “He pissed me off.”

“I know. Which is interesting, don't you think? Considering he was hardly to blame for Clare's tipsy behavior. You're a bit touchy about a man you've barely known for a week.” Correctly interpreting her surprise, his smile widened. “Word spreads fast in Avalon.”

Nineva stared, realizing he'd been playing her to make a point. “You manipulated me.”

He laughed. “Darling, it's what I do.” His fingers brushed her cheek, cool and taunting. “And I'm very good at what I do.”

“Kiss off.” She turned her back on him and stalked from the dance floor. Her gaze fell on Kel, who still sat sprawled in the booth with Gawain. A trace of smoke drifted from his nose, and his gaze was brooding as he swigged his beer.

Shame made Nineva wince. She'd acted just like every jealous woman who'd ever made a fool of herself in every bar where Nineva had ever worked. She'd always harbored a certain contempt for those women. Finding herself guilty of the same behavior was galling.