Chase the Dark (4 page)

“What are you doing in here?” she asked in a whisper, caught between annoyance and awe. The little creature was a dragonet and it belonged to Ash. All draconians had a dragonet companion. They were a cross between pets and familiars, bonded in a way Piper didn’t understand. She’d only seen Ash’s dragonet twice. They were shy and avoided strangers.

So why was it in her room?

Moving slowly, Piper slid from her bed and straightened. “Hello, little one,” she murmured, inching closer. “Why are you in here, hmmm?” The dragonet scrutinized her, tilting its head from side to side like a puzzled dog. Its wings quivered.

“Shh,” she soothed. “Don’t be afraid. Aren’t you a cute thing?”

The dragonet made a little chirp of sound. It opened its mouth, flashing rows of sharp, predatory teeth, and snatched the ring box in its mouth.

Piper stared. Then she panicked. “Hey, put that down!”

The dragonet leaped off the dresser, grabbed onto the wall, and ran along it like a huge bug.

“Hey!” she yelled again. “Get back here with that!” She dove for the creature but it was way ahead of her. It jumped off the wall and landed with liquid grace in front of her door, now open a few inches. The tufted end of its tail vanished through the gap.

She almost ran into the door, catching herself on the wall and flinging it open. She leaped into the hallway and saw the dragonet streaking toward the other end of the house where the second set of bedrooms was located. With a furious growl, she charged into the living room that separated the two wings, way too slow to catch the little bugger. An old paperback book sat on the end table right beside her. Piper grabbed it, took aim, and hurled it across the room without breaking stride.

It smacked the dragonet in the back. The creature did a dragon-style face-plant, tumbling head over heels with wings and tail flailing. It yelped loudly as it sprawled to a stop. Piper immediately felt guilty but she needed that ring box.

The dragonet hopped to its feet as Piper reached it. Spotting the ring box two feet beyond the dragonet, she lunged for it and almost did her own face-plant when the dragonet sprang at her. She fell against the wall and the dragonet’s little feet thumped her head as it launched off her. It landed lightly on the floor, caught the ring box in its mouth again, and dove into the heat vent, which for some stupid reason was missing its cover.

Piper dropped to her knees beside the vent and listened to the sound of claws on metal before a soft thump came from the other side of the wall. Apparently there was no vent cover on the other side either. She looked up and swallowed hard. She was sitting right outside Ash’s room. The dragonet had run straight to daddy for protection.

She frowned at the door. Ash was in there, probably asleep. She didn’t want to wake him. She didn’t even want to talk to him. What were the chances she could sneak in there and steal the ring box back without waking him?

She considered it for about half a second. Yeah, zero.

Before she could come up with a better plan, the door a foot from her nose popped open. Shadows spilled out, framing Ash in the threshold as he looked across the living room toward her room. Then he looked down, saw her sitting at his feet, and blinked.

Piper scrambled up, trying not to blush—or stare. Ash wore nothing but loose, black cotton pants. He really should have tied the drawstring a little tighter because the way the waistband clung to his lean hips, one sharp movement would make them slip. Piper jerked her eyes up and the next level view was even better: lean, sculpted muscles made from hard work and inherent athleticism instead of weight lifting, all beneath warm honey-toned skin that looked absolutely velvety in the shadows of the doorway—

A soft chirp made her jump and she belatedly noticed the dragonet sitting on his shoulder. The end of the silk strip braided into his hair hung from the creature’s mouth, and it tugged on the silk like a cat toy, all the while keeping those gold eyes trained on Piper.

Ash absently pulled the red silk out of the dragonet’s teeth with a soft rasp. “What are you doing?” he asked, breaking the oh-so-awkward silence.

She shivered as his voice slid through her again, too intimate as the shadows pressed close. Her brain kicked back in along with a heady dose of adrenaline; she’d never been alone in Ash’s company before.

Fear tickled her stomach, making her want to shrink away. She drew herself up and glared instead. “Your dragonet snuck into my room and stole something from me.”

He glanced at the creature on his shoulder. It tilted its head and somehow managed to project total innocence. He looked back at Piper. “Why would she do that?”

She redoubled her efforts not to cower. “You tell me.”

His attention slid back to the dragonet. “Zwi, were you stealing again?” he murmured.

The dragonet trilled, its head weaving from side to side as it squirmed in a distinctly guilty way. Ash frowned. “Go get it.”

Piper blinked. Were they communicating like people? For real?

With an unhappy grumble, Zwi slid off his shoulder and disappeared into the dark room. Piper stared, not quite able to believe it. Seconds later, Zwi landed on his shoulder, the ring box in her mouth. She gave Piper a resentful look as Ash held out his hand. The dragonet grudgingly dropped it.

Ash just looked at the ring box. Looked at it long enough that panic sparked. She jumped forward and snatched it out of his palm.

His shoulders stiffened. Piper’s heartbeat stuttered. It suddenly seemed much darker in the narrow hallway. She inched back a step, fighting to project nonchalant confidence. Predators attacked the weak. He tracked her unsubtle retreat without expression but there was a taste of aggression in the air—a taste of power and blood.

With a sudden huff, he rolled his shoulders and shifted his weight, nearly unbalancing Zwi. As the cloak of impending violence slid away, Piper exhaled sharply. Furtively monitoring his body language, she stuck the ring box back in her shirt. She really needed jeans with functioning pockets.

He raised his eyebrows at her storage choice. She shot him a mutinous look. The silence stretched.

Fingers whispered down her sides. Hands caught her hips and pulled them backward. Lyre rubbed against her, purring in her ear. Piper threw herself forward with such force that she almost crashed into Ash. Whirling around, she let her fist fly. It smacked solidly into Lyre’s palm and he grinned. Damn supernaturally fast daemons.

“Feisty tonight, my love,” he approved, stroking his fingers across the back of her hand. He too wore nothing but sleep pants and was as yummy as Ash—even more so because he didn’t make the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.

Lyre’s gaze flicked to Ash. “Is this what it looks like? A moonlit tryst?” He pouted. “Why wasn’t I invited?”

Recovering her wits, Piper tried to pull her fist out of his grip. “Let go,” she demanded. “What are you doing up? Go back to bed.”

“Only if you come with me,” he breathed, shifting closer. Piper stepped back, her breath catching as Lyre’s eyes went dark. Warmth spilled through her in a rising blush as his gaze slowly slid down her and back up again, lingering in obvious places before coming to rest on her mouth. He slid closer still and Piper stepped back only to thump into Ash, still standing in the doorway to his room. She lurched forward but Lyre had closed the gap. She stood between them with nowhere to go, caught in the heat of their bodies, her heart pounding.

Oh no. This was not going to happen.

Baring her teeth, she balled up her other hand and drove her fist into Lyre’s stomach. He gasped and took a step back. With no room to get in a good swing, the punch hadn’t had much force but it was enough. Ripping her other hand free, she fell into a fighting stance and drew her other fist back.

A hand closed on her wrist, firm but gentle. Another touched her shoulder and the next thing she knew, Ash had turned her and pushed her out from between them. She sprang away and whipped around again, ready to attack, but it was Ash in front of her, not Lyre. He stood sideways between them, an impenetrable barrier.

“Lyre,” he said quietly. “Apologize. You frightened her.”

“I’m not scared of him,” she snapped, not relaxing her stance.

Lyre’s eyes were gold again, the dark heat gone. He frowned and raked a hand through his white-blond hair. “Damn it, Piper. You know I wouldn’t do anything. You’re the damned Head Consul’s daughter, for Taroth’s sake.”

She gave him a killing look and he huffed in frustration. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? You were never this touchy before.”

She folded her arms over her chest and looked away from his questioning gaze. “Things are different now, okay? I don’t want you touching me. At all. Got it?”

Lyre watched her silently, his stare intent and oddly calculating. He glanced at Ash, who shrugged and tilted his head in a way that made Piper instantly suspicious. It looked too much like an “I’ll tell you later” tilt. Were Ash’s secret-digging skills that good?

A sudden crash shook the whole house. She jumped, grabbing the wall as the floor rumbled. Lyre staggered backward and Ash dropped into a half crouch, Zwi clinging to his shoulder. Dust sifted down as everything went still and silent.

“What . . . was that?” Piper whispered.

Lyre slowly crouched, matching Ash’s ready stance. “That was an explosion,” he growled.

“Magic?” she demanded in a hiss.

“Think so.”

“It has a haemon signature,” Ash said, his voice clinical. “Not daemon.”

She snapped straight. Her father?

Ash flowed to his full height, his movements shifting into something sleeker, more predatory, as he moved across the living room toward the stairs. Zwi slid from his shoulder and darted down the hall ahead of him.

“Wait!” Piper cried.

Ash glanced back at her. His normally gray eyes were dark, almost black.

She swallowed hard. “You’re not allowed downstairs,” she whispered. “I can’t let you go down. He said no exceptions.” Panic twisted in her stomach. Something had gone wrong with the meeting. Really wrong.

“You plan to wait here, doing nothing?” Ash asked flatly. “What if your father is hurt?”

She clenched her hands to hide their tremble. “No exceptions,” she repeated, choking the words out. Responsibility. It hung on her like the weight of chains. If she let the two daemons downstairs when she’d been told explicitly to keep them upstairs, her father would never overlook it. He expected her to make sure they stayed put no matter what.

Ash looked at her for a moment more, then turned and started toward the stairs again.

“Ash!” He didn’t even hesitate. “I said stop,” she yelled, her voice high with panic. If he went downstairs, she would lose her apprenticeship for sure. She launched after him.

“Hold up!” Lyre grabbed her arm.

She spun, contorting her arm until she had his wrist in her grip. A yank, a twist, a shove, and Lyre went down with a yelp, his arm bent painfully behind his back. She sprang off him and charged for Ash, who hadn’t so much as paused when his friend fell.

The daemon turned as she reached him and her roundhouse kick slammed into his open hands. He stepped back with the force of her kick, pulling her off balance. Hopping and flailing, she bared her teeth. Flinging her arms out to create more momentum, she flipped her whole body, her other foot leaving the floor as she rolled in the air, breaking his grip on her foot. She landed hard on her stomach and kicked out with the other foot, slamming her boot into Ash’s unprotected ankle. His foot went out from under him but he pivoted on the other with impossible grace, recovering with barely a bobble.

“You’re not allowed down there,” she yelled. Oh God, she was attacking a draconian. She was so dead. She flung out her foot again anyway, trying to hook his ankle and pull him off his feet. He kicked back and her foot hit his heel with a jarring impact.

“Stop it!” Lyre jumped right over Piper and slammed into Ash, shoving the other daemon into the wall. “Hurt her and you’ll never set foot in a Consulate again, you idiot.”

Ash snarled, the animal sound deep and menacing. Piper blanched but Lyre’s face hardened with grim determination. “Cool it, Ash.”

Slowly, Ash relaxed. He cast a menacing look at Piper, still on the floor, before crossing his arms over his bare chest. Lyre let out a long breath and stepped back. He looked at Piper but she jumped up before he could offer her a hand. Tugging her clothes straight, she glowered and hoped neither of them noticed how much she was shaking.

“Just—wait here. For two seconds. Okay?” With a warning look at Ash, Lyre trotted back across the living room and vanished into his room. He came out almost immediately, a bundle of clothing in one hand. Piper watched him, her heart pounding. The house was silent—too quiet. Why hadn’t someone come to tell her everything was okay?

Lyre untangled two hoodies and tossed the red one to Ash. The daemon pulled it on and zipped it halfway, his motions jerky and somehow dangerous. If she hadn’t had other things to worry about, she’d have been shocked to be alive after attacking Ash.

Lyre pulled his hoodie over his head before turning to her. “I think we need to go down, Piper,” he said gently.

Shaking her head mutely, she slid closer to Ash to better grab him if he tried to make a break for the stairs. He hissed at her, his eyes darkening again. Fear stabbed her. He wasn’t even bothering to act human anymore. He was shading—dropping the veneer of civilized human behavior and going all-out daemon. Dangerous or not, she’d thought he had way better control. Daemons usually only shaded when they were exceptionally angry or afraid.