Treasure Lane Dragons: Complete Series (BBW Paranormal Dragon Shapeshifter Romance) (13 page)

“Jolly… What… what’s going on?” she asked, her voice alien to her.

The man chuckled merrily, setting the basin down next to the bed and soaking a washcloth in it. He dabbed it to the bump on her head, and her vision blurred again, threatening to drag her back into the darkness of unconsciousness once more. She screamed in pain, but he just hushed her and did it again.

“Shut up,
princess,
” he said, the last word coming out like an insult, and Gemma was sure he meant it just as it sounded.

The white washcloth came away from her head dappled with blood. It went gruesomely well with the general décor of the room. Gemma felt sick to her stomach. She tried to lean away from him when he moved in to touch the side of her face again, but he snorted with derision and yanked her head back by her hair, cleaning the blood off of her face.

“Stop it. You need to look presentable for Master. He already doesn’t understand why Devon Bluewing would deal with trash like you, and honestly, I share his disbelief.”

“What the hell are you talking about? What Master? Where am I?” Gemma asked, her words running into one another.

More out of instinct than conscious thought, she tried to undo her hands from the ties that bound them, but they were too tight. They felt like leather, and her fingertips could barely reach a metal buckle that must have fastened them together. She was still wearing the V-neck tee and dark jeans she’d been clad in when she was reading in the bedroom.

“You’re with better men now, much better than any Bluewing ever could be. Those flying rodents never knew what
true
greatness looked like. Not like the Redblades,” he said, wiping the blood from her hair and skin until he seemed to be pleased with the outcome. He pushed back her honey-gold hair, giving her a disgusted look.

“Well, I guess you are pretty enough for a Bluewing. They always had awkward tastes, but you, you’re just the last drop in the proverbial bucket. I can’t believe that my ancestors stomached working for the Bluewings as long as they did… What revolting creatures. Stealing my ancestors from their true masters and making us stoop and bow for them as if we were no better than the dirt under their shoe.

Never again. With you as my offering, Master Redblade has seen how devoted I am, and finally, things will be put right again. There will be no more of this nonsense with the Bluewings as the Head of Council. No. Remington Redblade would never allow it.”

The little shifter grinned his toothy grin, looking more like a lizard than she’d ever seen him. The specs of gold in his eyes seemed to shimmer with glee, and his whole being oozed satisfaction.

“Why would you do this to me? And what has Devon ever done to you?” Gemma asked, disbelief ringing in her words.

This couldn’t be happening, right? Just a few weeks ago, she’d come back home, looking forward to a calm, happy kind of life. And instead, she’d somehow got dragged into some kind of dragon turf war, complete with betrayal and violence. What was even more surprising than the fact that something like that could still happen in the 21
^st
century, was that she was as outraged by Jolly’s betrayal of Devon as she was at being knocked over the head with a book that weighed at least four pounds and being abducted.

Her gut twisted with anger and resentment for the short, stubby betrayer, and if she hadn’t been quite so thoroughly incapacitated, she would have lunged at him and shown him what a princess she really was. Damnable little imp.

And why do I care? But I do, don’t I…

The realization was staggering, and Gemma made a mental note to file it away for later. Could it be that she was developing real feelings for Devon? Hell, or not even just developing, had them already? Another absolutely superb thing to figure out and worry about when you were being held by a crazy madman and his dragon overlord.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Jolly scoffed, throwing the now blood-soaked rag back into the bowl. “Dayton Bluewing had his flaws, but at least he knew how to follow tradition. When he had to choose a bride, he did it the right way – having Gold Valley offer all of their virgins for him to choose from and picking the fairest of them. Devon, he is barely worthy of the Bluewing name to begin with, even if it is a weak name in comparison to the Reblade’s.

Between the rest of the brothers drinking and making fools of themselves across the world and Devon’s choices, I couldn’t stand it any longer. And you… You mean nothing in this. You’re just a pawn, although the pawn that set forth the destruction of the little Bluewing kingdom.” Jolly smiled toothily, an almost predatory grin that she hadn’t thought was in him.

“Devon isn’t worth my worship or the time my ancestors gave him. And you certainly aren’t. You’re no princess.” With those words, he stood up, taking the basin so roughly that the bloody water sloshed over the sides and onto the plush black and crimson carpet in front of the bed.

“I never claimed to be a princess!” Gemma railed weakly, her eyes prickling with tears. She wasn’t sure why she was crying. She didn’t feel weak or powerless. Incapacitated and stripped of her capabilities – yes, but not without any means to fight. It was just that the way Jolly had said those things, as if she were the reason why Devon’s dazzling life was crumbling into bits, somehow struck the wrong nerve in her.

Gemma Teeley had never wanted to be a princess, and now here she was, bringing down kingdoms and cutting down kings where they stood just with her presence. It was all a bit overwhelming. And, most of all, she wished she could be with Devon right now. He would know what to do.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Gemma

Gemma stood awkwardly in the middle of a big study, lavished with gold and silver trim wherever she looked. Everything oozed money and wealth, from the hardwood floors to the high ceilings and the ostentatious decorations. Where the Bluewing mansion was overbearing (and it could have been much worse, knowing what the Bluewings were hiding under the house in those big vaults), the Redblade was that, times three.

There was no coyness of self-control here. Anyone visiting the building had to be immediately aware of everything they had. The gold, gems and impossible riches were glaringly obvious. Even the legs on the chairs were dotted with expensive gems – mostly rubies and pearls.

Gemma felt uncomfortable amidst all of it, though the fact that Jolly was standing behind her, looking like he’d be more than happy to whack her over the head with something hard again, certainly didn’t make her any more at ease. And Remington Redblade staring at her like she was there to bring his personal salvation didn’t help either.

The man gave her the creeps. He was handsome as hell – as all dragons seemed to be – but the way his cold gray eyes roamed her body, as if wondering exactly what Devon had done to her, made her tremble with disgust. She didn’t like the way he eyed her, to say nothing about what she thought about him having her brought there to begin with.

He was sitting in a high-backed leather chair, and Gemma had been brought straight to him after Jolly had cleaned her up enough to look ‘presentable’. She peeked out of the tall floor to ceiling window (just like the ones Devon preferred) overlooking a stretch of thick forest and unfamiliar mountains looming in the distance. She certainly wasn’t in Gold Valley anymore. And Treasure Lane was a big place to be lost in…

“Thank you, Jolly. You’re excused. Wait behind the door while I have a chat with Miss Teeley, will you.”

Remington’s voice was buttery smooth, and his saccharine smile made Gemma crinkle her nose. Devon might have that holier-than-thou air about him, but at least he never pretended to be anyone he wasn’t. This man was just a snake, she could tell on first impressions alone.

“Now, Miss Teeley, or Gemma, I think it is. I think we’ve found ourselves in quite the predicament, wouldn’t you say?” He smiled again, and Gemma could imagine with vivid clarity how she would punch his long, elegant nose in if her hands weren’t tied. He was seated just a few feet away from her, but he made no effort to offer her a seat or untie her hands.

“I would,” she agreed noncommittally, her lips thinning into a line.

“I can see what Devon sees in you. Though I imagine Jolly wouldn’t. The lizards never did have great taste in women, I’m afraid. But I’m surprised, really. I thought Devon would try and pass one of his model conquests as a dragon bride. Wouldn’t that be utter nonsense? I always figured he had to be using them more for show than for function,” Remington said, obviously talking more to himself than her.

Gemma had to agree with his commentary though – Devon choosing one of the leggy things he showed up with on tabloids would certainly have made a lot more sense. But she’d been reading enough lately to get a very distinct feelings that dragons loved some curves on a woman, and every illustration she’d ever seen of a dragon bride looked peculiarly like her. They certainly had a type. She had to appreciate men who knew what they liked, especially if it included men like Devon Bluewing.

“Now, tell me, why do you think you’re here, my sweet?”

Gemma shrugged, wincing a little as the motion sent another burst of pain running through her spine.

“I don’t know. I’m guessing it has something to do with your issues with the Bluewings. Though I’m pretty sure your family has deserved everything it’s got from them,” Gemma remarked, quirking a brow.

Remington’s sweet smile twisted and contorted a little, hiding the face of a handsome man behind a mask of predatory rage. Oh, she’d hit a nerve alright.

“What would you know about the Redblades and the Bluewings! And a human bitch like you could never really comprehend what the dragon hierarchies mean or why they are as they are…”

“Oh, I think I understand, alright. You’re still sore because your forefathers got their leathery asses kicked by dragons stronger and better than them, and you think kidnapping the fiancée of a Bluewing dragon is going to somehow break him… Hey, news for you, Redblade, I’m not afraid of you, and Devon’s going to take down your ass and plonk it right back into the Stone Age where you belong.”

Her tone got increasingly louder and her expression was tinted with anger. Okay, so she might have been taking this pretty seriously. A girl was allowed to get stark raving mad when an asshole dragon kidnapped her, right? And not even the dragon she liked! This whole dragon bride thing was getting a bit… difficult, to say the least.

Remington seemed to press down his fury somewhere deep within him, and the smile perched back on his lips. He got out of the chair – limber and elegant compared to Devon’s strong and fast movements – and crossed the distance between them. He stood in front of her, looming over her at least a foot taller, his wide shoulders strung with strength and his scent filling her nostrils with a certain twang of mahogany and bitter chocolate.

Had she seen him at any other time, she may have thought him handsome, but knowing the poison that flowed in his veins, she couldn’t feel anything but disgust. Remington raised his hand and tracked a line down her cheek, grabbing her by the neck with his other hand when she tried to back away from him.

“Oh, no-no-no, don’t go anywhere, my feisty little princess. You think you’re so smart, don’t you? Read a few books, huh? Your little human brain couldn’t comprehend the history between our two houses, no matter how many accounts you read of it. It is in our blood, in our ancestry… We cannot stop before justice has been done, and I swear, I will make things right again. And if that means I have to kill you right along with your dragon, I’ll be more than glad to do so.”

Her breath hitched at his words, but she kept from trembling through sheer force of will. His fingers, surprisingly cold for a man who surrounded himself with such a warm color, squeezed around her throat, seemingly enjoying the way she struggled against him.

“I think you will make a beautiful sacrifice,” he said, grinning, his dragon just under his skin. He released her, leaving Gemma hunched over and coughing. Remington turned and strolled back to his chair, sitting down with a heavy sigh. “I will wait, though, of course. Until the gold moon is over and your dragon has no other choice but to give up his place as Head of Council. I want to keep him wondering, searching for his missing princess.

And when Devon Bluewing has lost his mind with grief and anger, I will of course graciously accept the position as that is how it was always meant to be – with a Redblade at the head of Treasure Lane.”

Remington paused for a moment, looking at Gemma thoughtfully. “Or, of course, he could find another princess… Perhaps you don’t mean much at all to him, hmm? I see you do not wear his hoard. I cannot blame you, if you were waiting for a
real
dragon, a Bluewing would never do.”

Remington gave her a long look, his white teeth gleaming almost brighter than the gold that lines his chair. She bristled at his comments, fury raging through her veins in hot juts.

“But that would just mean he would soon die of a broken heart. We dragons are not meant to be with someone who is not our mate for too long… Either way, I will enjoy his suffering. Whether or not that requires your death is yet to be seen.”

“You’re scum,” Gemma hissed between clenched teeth. Her throat and neck hurt badly, but it was nothing compared to the flame of anger taking root within her. Oh no, she wasn’t going to let him get away with it. A bastard like that couldn’t take over Treasure Lane. And what’s more, he couldn’t be allowed to destroy Devon. With a breaking heart, she realized that he meant far too much to her to allow anyone to harm him.

“I am, but you’re just a girl hidden in the mountains, without any way to be found or any means of doing anything about it. Shame, isn’t it?” Remington mused, leaning back. Gemma straightened up. But there was a way. Carefully, she slid her hands down along her bottom, praying to all the dragons above that what she hoped was there would still be there. She could barely hide the smile that wanted to spread on her lips when she felt the bump in her back pocket.