Shifters of Grrr 1 (66 page)

“No bloody way. Go back and put on something else.” He scraped his hand along his jaw. She was damned hot. In that outfit, any man with a pulse would ache to bend her over and…

Yeah, she wasn’t ever going out in public dressed like that. For him in the bedroom, maybe, but the Lucy he knew wouldn’t enjoy that particular brand of attention from strange men. The lewd images spinning through his mind and hardening his cock were proof enough of the vulgarity she’d attract. Men were fucking pigs. On these streets, in that outfit, the cat calls alone would bring her to tears.

And then he’d have to castrate every one of those motherfuckers.

“What’s wrong with…” She stared down at her clothes, frowning. “Oh.” A blush crept into her cheeks, making him even harder.

Although she aroused his body, she didn’t have to dress seductively to attract his mind. A woman who flaunted her beauty was one thing, but the effortless innocence of Lucy’s aura?

It nailed him. To the wall. He wielded no defenses against that.

The women he’d slept with made no attempt at false pretenses, tossing their sexual prowess in his face. Lucy didn’t even have to try and he acquiesced to her silent beckoning.

“Yeah, you should probably wear something less stripper-ish.” He grinned and she eased, smiling back at him.

“Good idea.”

She vanished from his view again, and he braced one arm against the wall, attempting to cool his boiling blood. After their visit with the Matchmaker, Lucy would be in his arms again.

Damn, but she was worth waiting for.

***

Lucy tugged the tight skirt down over her hips. Whatever had possessed her to dress like a slut? Somehow, she’d taken the modest pieces in her closet and thrown them together into a prostitute’s outfit.

Searching her closet for a more appropriate ensemble, she selected a sleeveless, green silk blouse and black capris. The material smoothed over her skin as she slipped it on, and she blinked to stop her eyes from sliding shut and indulging in the sensation of being enveloped in velvety softness. Yikes, her body was on edge, aroused from her last encounter with Sheng and even more by the virility of the man waiting in her living room.

Dragon was a hussy. This surge of confidence in herself and her appearance was hard to control. One minute, she’d burst with brazenness, the next, ooze Rabbit’s timidity. Despite this fluctuation, Rabbit submitted to Dragon and the two seemed in harmony.

How was this even possible? She fought against wearing a pair of three-inch heels her hands gravitated toward and, instead, slid her feet into a more sensible pair of platform dancer’s shoes. The shiny black pair boasted thick, sturdy heels and the firm clasp would prevent her ankle from twisting if she had to run.

Wait, what? Why would such a foreboding notion pop inside her head? They were meeting with the Matchmaker. No need to plan for the worst.

Right?

She shook off her jitters and met Sheng in the hallway. What was going through his mind? When their spirits had first met, he’d been so disappointed—had even growled at her—to learn she wasn’t the Dragon. Now that she was, how would he regard her? She tensed, but he didn’t treat her any differently as he kissed her forehead and led her out the door.

Whew. Nothing fazed him. She leaned into his arm, accepting his strength as hers. Trusting Sheng had come as the most natural decision in the world. After everything they’d been through, even her fears about this new development didn’t muddle one fact.

Sheng would protect her with his life.

They took a taxi into the middle of George Town, and pulled alongside the curb in front of a shop squeezed between two larger ones as if it were in the process of being swallowed.

The bright red overhang read Happy Fortune Telling and Tea Leaf Reading in bold, crimson Chinese characters. She arched a brow at Sheng, but he winked and helped her out of the car.

Inside, the dim store proved her theory of it gradually being consumed. A young girl wearing a traditional Chinese dress led them, single file, down a short corridor to the table in the back.

Incense stung Lucy’s nostrils, more stringent than the blend perfuming the temples of Kek Lok Si. Cheap, was the first word that came to mind. Why on earth the Matchmaker insisted upon meeting them in this rundown establishment baffled her. She must have access to dozens of tea readers at her office, unless…

“Who are we hiding from?” she whispered to Sheng, one hand smoothing her hair to ensure the feathers remained concealed.

He opened his mouth to answer, but the corridor ended. A figure rose from a table crammed into the far corner of the tiny room.

The Matchmaker.

“Lucy, Li.” She greeted them and Lucy copied Sheng, dipping her head.

The Matchmaker’s keen inspection roamed over her. “I see you’ve made some changes.” Her tone was dry, her perusal acute. “Please sit.”

Lucy followed the sweeping hand with the long red nails and claimed the seat to the Matchmaker’s left. Sheng took the right.

Instead of observing her closer, she addressed him. “You risk much by bringing this to me instead of the Council.”

He exchanged her direct stare with one of his own. “I don’t trust them. I trust you.”

Lucy flinched at the subtle reminder that the two of them might have once shared more than just an alliance. After Sheng’s claiming of her last night, she suffered a smidge of possessiveness. Shoving her jealousy aside, she focused on Sheng’s declaration. Despite the sarcasm pinging back and forth, it was true. He did trust the Matchmaker. He never would have brought her here otherwise.

The Matchmaker’s crimson lips curved. “You are probably right. Well, let’s have some tea, shall we?” Her focus shifted to Lucy as she seized the small clay teapot from the center of the table and poured the fragrant liquid into Lucy’s cup. No one else’s.

Lucy waited a beat. “Just me?”

“Yes. Yours is the only reading I’m not sure of.” Again, the Matchmaker’s cunning inspection flashed to Sheng.

Lucy seized her teacup. Bringing the rim to her lips, she sipped the floral liquid, glad it tasted better than the incense inside this establishment smelled. Once she’d swallowed the last drop, the Matchmaker snatched the cup from her hands, examining the leaves at the bottom with a critical eye.

“Interesting…and inconclusive.” She leaned back and sighed.

So much for answers.

***

“That’s it?” Sheng leaned forward and snarled at the Matchmaker. “Look at her!” He waved a hand toward Lucy. “Something else is inside her, don’t you dare deny it.” He lowered his voice, glancing around the room to ensure they were alone before speaking. “I think it’s the Dragon.”

The Matchmaker flinched. “I agree her aura is clouded, but to be blessed with two spirits? Only a
Shèhúnzéi
—a Spirit Thief—can do such a thing, and Spirit Thieves are rare, indeed. To imply she had contact with one, or is one herself, is preposterous. I cannot fathom why the Jade Emperor would—”

“Well, he fucking did.” Tiger lurched forward and Sheng let the beast cloak him for an instant.

The Matchmaker’s widening eyes were reward enough.

“What do you make of this, huh?” He peeled back the strands of Lucy’s hair, revealing one long, reddish-gold feather.

The Matchmaker’s crimson lips parted in surprise, but she resumed her mask of cool too quickly for his liking. He narrowed his gaze on her. In fact, she was acting far too unruffled, even for her ice queen status. Yep. He squeezed his hand into a fist. He’d bet Tiger’s tail she’d known something was up with Lucy from the start. Maybe even how she hosted both the Rabbit
and
the Dragon.

Fuck. That had to be why the bitch had told him to stay out of Lucy’s pants. The release of Lucy’s sexual energy had coaxed out Rabbit
and
awakened the Dragon. Double fuck. If he guessed right, the Matchmaker
knew
Sheng had been inside Lucy’s pants.

He shifted in his seat and scratched at the back of his neck.

“Until I view concrete evidence, I cannot make such a bold assumption.” The Matchmaker spoke the words, but the curve of her lips sang a different tune. She
was
meddling, all right, in typical Matchmaker fashion. For once, he was grateful she stuck to her games and didn’t call him out on his disobedience.

She straightened her posture and swirled the contents of Lucy’s mug to erase the reading. “We’re finished here.”

“Finished what?” A menacing inquiry demanded from the corridor.

Fuck. How the hell hadn’t he detected anyone sneaking up on them? Sheng shot to his feet and whirled to greet the intruder.

Boar. Crap. Snake must have sent Boar to spy on Lucy after their meeting at the Council Chambers.

“Just having tea,
mate
.” Sheng grated the greeting, fists clenched at his sides. On edge, Tiger readied to pounce at the slightest provocation.

“Funny. I heard talk of dragons.” Boar folded his arms across the expanse of his chest, stretching to his full height. A flash of the beast inside flared in his eyes.

“Must have heard wrong.” Sheng brushed him aside, lending a hand to help Lucy to her feet.

“No, I fucking didn’t.” Boar shoved him, knocking him straight into Lucy.

Sheng tumbled on top of her, shattering the chair and smacking them into the floor.

She cried out, making him panic for a second that he’d hurt her, but she brushed away his probing hands. He didn’t get off her, so she swung at him, the blow propelling him aside as if he weighed nothing.

Landing on his side, he twisted to catch sight of Lucy surging upward. At first, the cloaking around her blurred, the spirit animal indistinguishable. Until two massive, leathery wings spread from either side of its body. Plumes of red-gold feathers sprang from the spirit’s head, elbows, and knees as it rose to fill the tight space. Its lionesque head brushed the rafters and the tips of its wings scraped the walls as the beast unfurled its long, snake-like body. A Chinese Dragon, the animal closely resembled a serpent except for its four legs.

His jaw dropped. Dragon had just made its appearance.

He cast a smug smirk at the Matchmaker, but her attention was glued on Lucy’s transformation. Her nails dug into her crossed arms as though she held herself back. Why wasn’t she helping?

Any triumph he’d experienced evaporated. He switched his focus to Lucy. The secret was out long before they’d determined a plan.

Lucy was in danger.

Boar squealed at the sight of the Dragon.

Sheng had to contain this mess. Boar had already spied too much and they’d be screwed if he reported this back to Snake.

He charged toward his enemy’s middle, tackling him to the ground. Tiger cloaked him, lending him the use of razor-sharp claws and teeth. Just as he was about to slice through Boar’s jugular, the swine freed his leg and thrust his foot at Sheng’s middle.

He catapulted through the air, smacking into the wall a few feet away.

A horrendous screech rent the air, and the oxygen in the room sucked inward as the Dragon inhaled. Exhaling, it spewed flames like a fucking nuclear blowtorch.

The paper thin walls of the store instantly caught fire. Boar shrieked in agony, the fiery tendrils lapping over him.

Sheng coughed from the constricting coils of smoke as he crawled to his feet. The Matchmaker pressed a hand on his arm and he nodded. They needed to get Lucy out of here before anyone else observed what she’d done. Before the building came crashing down with them trapped inside this relentless inferno.

He stared into the blazing flares, mesmerized for a moment by the beautiful yet lethal flames—like the ones responsible for his family’s deaths.

Dread’s icy fingers seized his muscles.
Lucy.
He refused to lose her, too. Stamping down his panic, he assessed the situation. How could he soothe the Dragon when the beast seemed hell-bent on torching this place?

Shielding his face from the searing heat with his forearm, he crept toward the Dragon admiring its work. An ominous creak overhead told him the building had a minute or two left before it crumbled on top of them.

“Lucy!” he shouted above the roar of the flames, hoping she still existed in there somewhere, that she hadn’t been buried beneath the strength of two spirit animals. One was hard enough to control.

The Dragon turned luminescent green eyes on him. Cocking its head, the glowing dimmed until the cloaking extinguished. Wasting not a second, he scooped Lucy into his arms as her body fell limp. Dodging flames, he burst through the backdoor into the alley, pieces of the ceiling crashing down behind him. He choked on the smoke in his lungs and searched for the Matchmaker.

Always a woman with a plan, she held open the door to her car. “Get in.”

He crawled inside with Lucy clutched to his chest. The door slammed behind him and, a moment later, the Matchmaker climbed into the driver’s seat. The car lurched forward as they sped away.

Sirens wailed in the distance, likely approaching the carnage they’d left behind. Was Boar dead? Sheng rolled the tension from his shoulders. Chosen were damned hard to kill. If he’d had more time, he would’ve hauled Boar from the wreckage and finished the job, but Lucy had been his priority.