Rion (3 page)

If Rion were here solely to slake his own needs, he would have slammed his mouth over hers and demanded what he wanted. But
his people needed her help. He couldn’t risk moving too fast.

Employing the utmost control, he held perfectly still.

She tilted her head back and smiled. “Thanks.”

Rion didn’t even attempt to control the huskiness in his voice. “I’m always happy to catch a pretty girl.”

She blushed. Rion reluctantly released her, but not before he breathed in her scent once more… strawberry soap, with a hint
of lime.

Eyes sparkling, Marisa spoke breathlessly. “Guess I should be wearing track shoes to keep up with this brood.”

Kicking off her heels, she revealed bright turquoise polish.

At the sight of those toes, Rion sucked in a harsh breath. What other surprises did Marisa keep hidden beneath her clothes?

Were the dragon scales on the insides of her arms, legs, and spine deliciously thin, or intriguingly solid? When he’d held
her so closely, had her scales undulated in response? Would she writhe with pleasure if he ran his tongue over them?

Buster banged into Rion’s leg, and Rion reached down to pet him, glad for an excuse to move away from Marisa. This was not
the time to come on to her. He had to hold back if his seduction was going to work.

The dog ricocheted off his leg and scampered around the couch, almost tripping Marisa again as he ran in a tight circle, barking
and wagging his tail. Condor clung to Buster’s back, flapping his wings, cooing happily. Nessie roared, spread her wings,
and launched herself high enough into the air to settle perfectly atop her brother.

The scene was chaotic but also homey, cozy, and peaceful in a clamorous way. So different from the brutal violence in his
vision. By the Goddess, he would do whatever was necessary to bring this kind of bliss to Honor again.

Patience. He couldn’t come on too strong. While he’d have to wait until the babies were asleep to make a physical move, he
could still put this time to good use.

Nessie’s wing knocked over a vase of flowers. Rion lunged and caught it, but not before water spilled onto the rug.

Marisa rolled her eyes and gave Rion a now-see-what-they’ve-done look. “Cael’s going to scorch us.”

“Your brother’s put her through much worse, and she hasn’t cooked him.” Rion placed the vase in a closet and shut the door.
He glanced up and spotted Merlin, Cael’s owl, on the top shelf of the bookshelf by the fireplace, wisely settled high above
the fray.

Rion turned to Marisa, his body back under control. “Cael loves your brother. Besides, he has more than enough fire to counter
hers.”

“I’m glad my brother and Cael found each other. They have it all—passion and friendship. They are true soul mates.” She grinned.

Damn, she had a beautiful smile. “You aren’t jealous?”

She shook her head, her chin at a jaunty angle. Marisa clearly couldn’t have been happier for her brother. “The two of them
give me hope. If they can be that happy…” Her eyes took on a dreamy hue that intrigued him. Floored him.

Sweet holy Goddess. He might have just enough scruples in him to stop his reaction to the smokiness in her voice or the vulnerable
hope in her eyes. But his body reacted.

He shifted to hide his arousal.

Between Marisa’s stunning looks and her quick mind, she was accustomed to men pursuing her. And accustomed to turning them
down. That dreamy look in her eyes had told him she wanted the same kind of connection her brother had with his wife.

She wanted love. Commitment.

A decent man would walk away. A man with less responsibilities would do the right thing and leave her to pursue her dreams.

But Rion wasn’t that man.

“I heard you set your own fire last week,” he teased, turning the conversation in a safe direction. Marisa had dragonshaped,
eaten platinum, and accidentally incinerated a tree.

“You heard about that?” Marisa laughed, not the least self-conscious about her actions. “I haven’t had much time to work on
my own dragonshaping control. The government’s keeping me too busy calming everyone else.”

New dragonshapers were required to go through Marisa’s one-week training to learn to regulate their fire-breathing. Not so
easy a task, especially since dragons lost most of their human intellect after shifting.

“How’s it going?” he asked, careful to keep his voice casual.

“I’m getting the hang of group telepathy.”

As twins, Marisa and Lucan had always been telepathic—but just with each other. However, after Marisa had taken the vaccine,
she’d discovered she could communicate with multiple dragons, while remaining in human form. Selflessly, she’d given up her
home in Florida and a job she loved as a reporter because Earth needed her unique talent. Not only could she train more than
one dragonshaper at a time, she could draw on her full human intellect to cope with the primitive dragon brains.

The dog rounded a corner, and Nessie pitched sideways. Marisa bent to catch her, her jeans tightening again to give him yet
another glimpse of the perfect shape of her ass. But the dragon righted on her own, and Marisa straightened.

“Excuse me a sec,” Marisa told him, then focused on the babies.

Setting her hands on her hips, her face full of intense concentration, she moved her lips. While he heard nothing, the baby
dragons did. They now used their front talons to cling to their ride.

Clearly, Marisa had given them instructions through a silent mental link. Impressive. And if his resolve had wavered, it was
back in full force. It was too bad for Marisa that he needed her. But neither his genuine liking and respect for her, nor
his own guilt, would deter him from carrying through with his plans.

Buster ran under a coffee table, scraping the babies from his back. Nessie and Condor tumbled, rolling and squawking, but
weren’t injured. Dragons were tough.

Marisa grinned. “I think that’s enough rough stuff for…”

Buster barked at the dragons, circled them, then barked some more, as if ordering them to climb back on. This time, Nessie
flew on first. Condor settled on top of her, and the three of them were off flapping and running again.

As if in unspoken mutual agreement, the adults gave up on conversation. They didn’t have to wait long for the commotion to
die out. A few minutes later, the dog lay panting on the carpet and the twins humanshaped. Stronger than non-dragonshaping
children, Nessie at only three months could crawl over to Rion, and he lifted her onto his lap.

With a mischievous grin, Marisa handed him a baby bottle, picked up Condor, and began to feed him. Looking lovely, she cuddled
the baby close, in the easy pose of a natural mother. He followed suit, cradling Nessie in the crook of his arm and placing
the nipple between her tiny pink lips, surprised at how good it felt to hold a child again. She smelled like powder and lotion.
Sweet.

“Why so thoughtful?” Marisa asked, her face soft and happy.

He felt his neck flush. He’d just had a flash that implied imminent danger to his people, and here he was cooing over babies.
He ignored her question. “Are you enjoying your new telepathic abilities?”

“Mm-hm?” She raised an eyebrow as if she knew his introspection had really been about the baby. “I’m still adjusting. I suppose
we both have abilities that can be seen as advantageous as well as detrimental. Lucan told me how the flashes frustrate you.”
She crossed one elegant leg, reached for a soft cloth, and wiped a trickle of milk from Condor’s cheek.

He kept his gaze on her eyes, although he really wanted to memorize the curve of her leg. “For me the worst part is when I
don’t have a clue if my vision is from the past, present, or future. What’s worst for you?”

“The residual emotions. When I’m open and sending messages, I’m also receiving. I’m not so good at filtering them out.” Marisa
might have looked maternal, but her eyes sparkled with a sexy-as-hell curiosity. “Are your flashes like a waking dream?”

“Sort of.” Rion rarely spoke about his flashes. But to gain her confidence, he had to give a little. “When a trance hits,
I’m still aware of what’s going on around me. If I have to I can move, but only slowly, since I’m so distracted. Like being
caught up in a good book, only more so.”

“Can you make yourself—”

He shook his head. “The flashes come at random. Sometimes I see a one-second snapshot. Sometimes I see an entire scene. It’s
rarely complete, and I don’t even know if it’s the beginning, middle, or end.”

“Does everything you see in the future come true?”

“Unless I do something to alter that future.” He hesitated to say more.

Her gaze, suddenly sharp and curious, locked with his. “You can alter the future?”

“That’s what my father and grandfather believed.”

She pursed her mouth as if she’d figured out a puzzle. “So like the telepathy I share with Lucan, your flashes run in the
family. But… you don’t like them?”

Her perception surprised him. “They are my birthright. I’ve learned not to ignore them. The good visions can be very useful.
Three years ago, I got a visual warning to escape just before the Unari invaded Honor. That one saved my life.”

“The Unari? Who exactly are they?”

“No one knows for sure. But my people believe the Unari race are one of the most powerful partners in the coalition of evil
that makes up the Tribes.”

“And you saw Lucan in a vision before you two met?” she asked.

He nodded. “Before I’d ever heard of Earth, I saw myself and your brother battling the Tribes.”

Marisa frowned. “The Tribes? King Arthur’s ancient enemy? Isn’t that who you and Lucan fought on Pendragon?”

“Yes and no. It’s true we fought the Tribes on Pendragon.”

“But?” she prodded, her gaze burning into his, her body tensed.

“My vision of your brother and me fighting the Unari Tribes together hasn’t happened yet.”

Marisa’s gaze pierced his. “Oh, my God. Are you certain?”

“Yes.” Rion nodded. “While we were on Pendragon, we found hints that King Arthur’s ancient enemy, the Tribes, might be rising
again. Not just on Honor. Not just on Pendragon. But all across the galaxy.”

Have a tender heart for those in misery, and comfort them as best you can.

—H
IGH
P
RIESTESS OF
A
VALON

A
nd one of the Tribes, these Unari, has invaded your world,” Marisa said, putting together all the information Rion had just
given her.

“You can bet your sweet oxygen my people will fight for their freedom,” Rion said, his tone fierce with pride. “I expected
Earth to do the same.”

Marisa admired Rion’s passion and understood his frustration. And she’d always been a sucker for causes. That was why she’d
become a reporter. She, too, had wanted to make a difference.

“I’m damn tired of Earth’s politicians jerking me around.”

“Give Earth a chance. We’ve been through a lot.” Condor sucked hard on his bottle, but Marisa gave Rion a long look. “You
can’t blame Earth for keeping the portal closed. Or for not jumping into a war that would help your people. We fear that what
happened to your world could happen here. And now that we can have children again, families don’t want to be split apart by
war. I hate the idea of my brother heading into danger again. He’s done his part. He’s got a family to take care of now.”

His tone remained soft, but his eyes hardened. “Closing the portal won’t make Earth safe.”

“But it’ll make it more difficult for anyone to attack us. Besides, the expense of fighting a war on another world on the
other side of the galaxy would be astronomical.”

“The consequences of
not
fighting will be worse,” he promised, his eyes flashing a bold gray challenge.

Condor had fallen asleep, and Marisa gently eased away the bottle, her mind thoughtful. Had she actually found a decent guy
who could respect her opinion, even if it was different from his own? In her experience, men who had enough confidence in
themselves not to feel intimidated by another point of view were rare. To find that trait packaged in such spectacular wrapping
was a bonus and had her second-guessing herself.

If she’d stuck around longer last night, she might have found out exactly how good he was. And she probably wouldn’t have
spent the night tossing and fantasizing about how good he could have made her feel.

She eyed Rion, still testing. “If the situation were reversed, would Honorians use their own resources and risk their lives
to save a people they didn’t know, against an enemy they’d never met?”

“I’d like to think so.” He glanced down at the baby in his arms. “The Unari Tribes’ brutality doesn’t merely extend to soldiers.
They don’t distinguish between civilians and the military. They make war on women and children, too.”

“Children?” She couldn’t imagine. On Earth, children were not just their most precious commodity, but their hopes, their dreams,
their future.

How ironic that by the time Lucan had returned with the fertility cure and children became a possibility for her, her marriage
had ended. Afterward, she’d closed down tight, unwilling to risk another mistake, unwilling to risk hurting like that again.
Yet losing her husband to another woman hadn’t been as bad as her shaken confidence in her own judgment. For years she couldn’t
trust anyone. But she’d healed. There were good men out there. She just had to find one.