Dragon's Chase (Paranormal Protection Agency) (Paranormal Protection Agency Book 7) (6 page)

Locking the image away before he did something stupid and tried it for real, he moved like lightning to get between her and the door. Her feet had barely touched the floor before he was there, looming over her. Crap, she moved fast. Faster than he’d expected just after Ris had healed
her. Who knew the Seer was a healer as well? He certainly hadn’t, but that was a question for a different day.

She pulled up short, avoiding crashing into him by a hairsbreadth. He smiled down at her, trying as hard as he could to appear unthreatening. She’d been injured, attacked by Red Caps and had passed out in his arms. No matter what she’d done, whether she was in league with the man who’d tried to kill his brother’s mate, he still didn’t want to scare her.

“Sorry, sweetness. Can’t let you leave. Not when you just got here.”

She gasped, backing up half a step and that was it. The predator in him couldn’t pass up the opportunity for a chase, no matter how small. Moving in, he slid a hand around her slender waist before she could stop him, and hauled her up against his bigger body. Her little gasp, and the sudden darkness in her eyes, hit him deep in the gut. Heat spread, his cock hard and ready for action in a heartbeat.

She didn’t fight him. Instead, she spread her small hands over his upper arms. Either clinging on or a precursor to pushing him away, he didn’t know, and frankly, didn’t care. Not with her lips so temptingly within reach. A groan rolling in the back of his throat, he dropped his head and claimed her mouth.

The instant his lips touched hers, his world tilted on its axis. Soft, warm, pliant…it was like coming home. A sense of peace and security wrapped around the lust piling up in his veins and he couldn’t help pulling her closer. She went easily, as though curling into him for support. Needing him and only him. The thought fed his male ego. Yes, he was the man. The alpha. He could look after his mate, see that she never had to worry again. He protected what was his.

Sweeping his tongue out, he probed the seam of her lips. Demanding access. Needing it more than he needed to breathe. He had to claim her utterly. Brand her with his essence so that she never looked at another man again. A soft murmur was her only reply before she parted her lips, allowing him the access he craved. Deep within, his dragon roared with triumph as he slid his tongue past her lips to find hers. The murmur this time was his, as he found her, stroked in soft, wet slides and tempted her to join him.

She held herself rigid at first, but he sensed her softening toward him. Driving a hand into the fall of blonde curls at the back of her neck, he swept his other hand down her spine. A gentle movement. She was so tiny and delicate he was scared he would hurt her. Was scared the strength of passion that rolled through him would make him rough.

Be as rough as you like
. Her mental voice was amused.
Not like I’m going to break, even in this form.

Oh god, she was going to kill him saying things like that. The dragon liked it rough, but he’d never truly let go. Couldn’t for fear of damaging his partner.

What partners? What females?
Her nails bit into his upper arms, jealousy coloring the link between them as she obviously read his surface thoughts. Quickly he shielded the deeper layers, just the same as he did when he didn’t want his brother to know his thoughts.

No females. Not now, not for a long time, but definitely not now,
he reassured her, pulling back to nibble at her lower lip. She whimpered, the soft, sexy little sound totally at odds with the tough image she presented.
Never again. There is only you.

Hmmmmph
, was her only reply, but the pressure of her nails in his arm eased up, as though she liked his answer. He hid his smile and broke from their kiss to trail his lips along the underside of her jaw. So, his mate was jealous of other women, was she? The knowledge pleased him, even though he had no intentions of ever looking at another woman again.

Not jealous—would just have to…
Her words in his head trailed off into a moan as he found the sweet spot just below her ear. She shivered and arched her neck to give him better access. He moved in closer to take up the invitation, nuzzling with his lips again and again. She whimpered, boneless in his arms and he knew he had her. She was totally open to him, to whatever he wanted from her.

His dragon roared at him. All his male instincts demanded that he push her backward onto the couch, use magic to get rid of their clothes and impale her on his thick cock until they were both in heaven.

With a sigh, he pulled back, looked down into desire-darkened eyes. He was a fucking idiot for passing up what was being offered on a plate. But he wasn’t an animal and he wanted far more than just a one-night stand from her. Besides, he didn’t have to be clairvoyant to feel the exhaustion that pulled at her.

“We can’t…not yet. You need some rest. You were just injured.”

Scooping her up into his arms, he fought down his dragon’s trumpeting, and carried her through to his bedroom to lay her down on his bed. She watched him, her expression wary, and he reached out a hand to smooth her curls away from her face.

“Sleep. Then we’ll talk.”

Chase didn’t argue at him stopping. Her dragon did, wanting nothing more than to seal the bond with their mate, especially after hearing him thinking about other woman. The beast was a jealous bitch. No woman would touch their mate and live. It would make sure of that.

But exhaustion, often a side-effect of healing magic, pulled at her, and as exhausted as she was, she didn’t have the willpower to stop him. She slipped gratefully into sleep to allow her body to heal the remainder of the damage but her rest wasn’t an easy one.

That hot kiss dominated her dreams. She’d found her mate, or more correctly, he’d found her. Rescued her like some knight in not shining, but dragonscale armor. Everything female within her, including her dragon, wanted to roll over and play games with the sexy male. But she couldn’t. She had a mission.

She shouldn’t even have kissed him. That way led to temptation, the horizontal sort of game minus clothing, and
bang
Sellers just got another way to make his Dragos enchantment permanent. Yeah, she’d get her magic back, but it was too easy…surely it couldn’t be that simple? No, she’d find another way. One that didn’t involve her putting her heart on the line as well.

Opening her eyes, she looked around the room, drinking in every detail and committing it to memory. The neutral colors of the walls and floor couldn’t compare to the bed. Draped in satins and silks, it was a cacophony of color. A melody of textures she couldn’t quite reconcile with the powerful male they belonged to. One who had tended to her so gently, looking after her rather than trying to persuade her to seal their bond immediately. She doubted even the ‘noble’ knights of her life before coming to this place would have been so honorable.

One thing was certain though. No matter how noble he was, or how hot, she couldn’t stay here. Pretty soon Sellers would yank on her chain and she’d be pulled right back to his lair. Not physical, teleportation type stuff, he wasn’t that powerful yet, but the compulsion to return would override all else. She had a little time though. Time to spend with the man she wanted but couldn’t allow herself to have.

Turning her head to the side, she found herself alone. The pillow next to her was indented. Sliding a hand out along the sheet, she found a rapidly cooling patch and her lips curved into a soft smile. He’d slept beside her.

Of course I did
, his voice whispered in her mind, stronger and clearer than it had been before. She swore under her breath. Physical proximity was strengthening their bond. She knew the signs, had seen bonded couples before. Sure some started out trying to stay away from each other, but the compulsion grew the more time they spent together until it was too great. Until they had no choice.

Hegra’s wrath, I make my own damn choices!

Sure you do, sweetness.
Her mate replied silkily, a hint of laughter in his deep, sexy rumble.
And that being said, do you want a hazelnut or vanilla shot in your coffee? I’m betting you’re a hazelnut kinda gal
.

She sat up in bed, pushing the tumble of loose curls back from her face. He had all her attention. She’d never had coffee before she’d come here. Right up until Sellers’ pet pixie, Rat, had given her a mug. From that moment she’d been hooked.

Hazelnut.
She extended her senses. He wasn’t in the apartment.
Where are you?

He crowed in triumph.
I
knew
it! Hazelnut it is, princess
.

I’m not a princess
, she argued, sliding out of bed to pad across the room in her bare feet to the large window to look out.

At some point while she slept, he’d removed her clothes and replaced them with a man’s shirt. It was far too long for her, hitting her just above the knee. One of his? She caught the edge of the fabric between her fingers to analyze it. No, it wasn’t magic-wrought. It was a real shirt. His shirt. Warmth spread out from the center of her chest. He’d given her his shirt.

Oh? Why aren’t you a princess then?

Men. Idiots the lot of them.

Perhaps because I wasn’t born royal? Do I need to explain genetics to you? Only those born of the blood can claim the title of princess.
She shook her head and looked out the window, trying to locate him on the street below. If he wasn’t in the apartment making coffee, then he had to have gone out to get it.
I wasn’t born of the blood, so the most I could have claimed was a noble title.

Oh? Could?

Interest poured over their mental link as she scanned the shops visible from her vantage point. No coffee shops. Perhaps she could spot him from another window? Distracted by her search, she replied.

My father was an Earl, so technically that would make me a Lady…
She wrinkled her nose in disappointment when the second window in the bedroom was also a bust.
But that was before I took the Oath.

Oath, what oath?

She found him at last, from the window in the main sitting room. Her dragon-enhanced vision easily picked him out, striding up the street carrying two coffee mugs.

Oath to the Queen
. Her mental voice rang with pride.
I am Chase Nightborne, the Queen’s Bodyguard.

The Queen?
This time his mental voice was tinged with confusion.
What like the Queen of England? Sorry, sweetness, not buying it. That’s not exactly an English accent you’re rocking there
.

She took a deep breath, counting to ten.

It’s a good job you look as good as you do, sweetness.
She threw his own endearment back at him, tracking his progress along the street. She hoped those cups were insulated. The only thing she hated more than cold coffee was off-their-rocker warlocks who wanted to be all powerful.
Because let’s be honest, intelligence isn’t your strong point.

It was. In fact, he was far too sharp, but she couldn’t let him know that. She shook her head, clearing the sleep from it and concentrated on her mate. He stood out from the crowd…from the cattle, as the Kyn would describe them, like a barracuda through a shoal of fish. Even had he been human, he would have stood out. Tall and broad-shouldered, he moved with an easy grace she found fascinating. He didn’t walk, he stalked. Loose limbed and with a dangerous grace that appealed to the predator within her.

Oh-oh-oh! Insults now, is it?
He chuckled, looking up. Their gazes met, and even at this distance she was forced to suck a breath in. Gods, he was gorgeous.
Checking me out, sweetness? I look…and feel even better close up.

She should ignore him, lock down their link and walk away until her mission was complete. If he’d gone all out
Rawr-alpha-male
shit, she’d have found it easy to walk away. Likewise if he’d tried to pull a seduction routine on her. The greatest lovers of the Queen’s court had tried to romance her, to no avail, but she’d never been able to resist a man who fought side-by-side with her, or made her laugh.
Do you now?

Her smile faded. Still, she had to leave. Sellers usually left her alone for a day or two after one of his hissy-fits, but his patience wasn’t endless. He’d start yanking on her chain, albeit a magical one, before too long.

She could stay for coffee though. There was always time for coffee. Settling herself in the deep window seat, she watched him weaving through the crowds. The early morning sun lighting the sky told her that she’d slept through the night, so these must be early morning commuters. All rushing and pushing to get to jobs that defined their lives in indelible ways, whether they liked it or not.

Yeah, I do
. His mental voice was full of confidence, and, as if that wasn’t enough, he fed her images through their mental link. Raunchy images so hot and erotic that heat took her by surprise. Overwhelmed her. Consumed her. Images of the two of them. Together. Limbs entwined. Her under him. Him holding her hands captive above her head. His hand in her hair, pulling her head back as he drove into her from behind. His hands covering her breasts as she straddled him, sliding down slowly over his cock.

She broke away, gasping.
That was not fair.

His voice was warm with amusement.
Haven’t you heard, sweetness? All’s fair in love and war.

She smiled a bit sardonically. As if this male had ever seen war. The males she remembered were hard-bitten and jaded. Warriors who had lost all joy in life—the ability to laugh scoured out of them in favor of protecting their people. The sort of men who had put their lives on the line.
And what do you know about war, handsome?

Try as she might, she couldn’t muster the derisive snort she wanted. Instead her voice was far too mournful for comfort. Her comfort.

Nothing, but I have a feeling that you do, sweetness.
Sellers had chained her magic and locked her into her human body to beat her. To hurt her. And she’d stood strong. She hadn’t broken, wasn’t anywhere near breaking. But it was the gentle, understanding note in her mate’s voice that almost undermined that strength.

Too much.
The words escaped before she could stop them.
Far, far too much.

Whatever you did, was in the past. We can get through this, I promise.

What she’d done in the past? All she’d done was to serve her queen and her duty, nothing that would get her saddled with the criminal past he seemed to think she had. But then, they had no clue what the collar did, that it forced her to do Sellers’ bidding. So, as far as he’d seen, she was working with the enemy.

She opened her mouth to answer, to tell him not to judge a book by its cover, when a sound outside the front door of the apartment caught her attention. A frown creased her brow and she glanced down. Duke was still visible down there, waiting for a crossing light to change. It wasn’t him.

She slid off the window seat, her bare feet soundless on the thick carpet and her gaze fixed on the door opposite. The build-up of magic beyond it confirmed that it wasn’t Duke. No, the foul feeling crawling over her skin was familiar. Disgustingly familiar. Her lip curled at the corner. Sellers. The collar around her throat throbbed as if in welcome of its master.

She padded lightly across the room to the small kitchenette. Her senses extended to full stretch, all of them. Both magical and mortal. Hearing and smell were both boosted by her non-human nature. There were Red Caps in the corridor. Their stench was unmistakable. She took another deep breath, rolling it over her tongue to taste the scents. Red Caps and a pixie. Just one. A snarl rumbled softly in the back of her throat. Rat. Sellers had sent his pet to collect her.

Well, they might have locked her magic down but that didn’t mean she was defenseless. Back in her day, warrior-mages had to be just that. Warriors as adept with normal weaponry as they were with magical ones. She wrapped her hand around the heavy skillet on the stove, hefting it in her hand. A good weight, and it was iron. The snarl at the corner of her lips turned into a smile. Perfect.

You’ve gone quiet on me, sweetness.

Her mate’s voice sliding into her mind made Chase pause between one step and the next. Shit, her mate was on his way up here. Panic surged through her as magic rose in the corridor. If it had been just the Red Caps out there, she wouldn’t have worried. But Rat was a completely different matter, especially if he was armed with some of Sellers’ toys—the Dragos charm wasn’t the only magical artifact the mad warlock had at his disposal—as she suspected.

Yeah, well...
She injected a breathy, flustered note into her mental voice to hide her true purpose from him, and crept toward the door.
A lady has to use the facilities once in a while. It’s not the sort of thing she wants her beau to hear, now is it?

She reached the wall by the side of the door, the plaster cool at her back. Scant inches of wall separated her from the occupants of the corridor but she could feel their malevolence pulsing through it. No doubt they’d realized the fate of John, Karl and their companions.

Oh, I’m your beau now, am I? Are you finally ready to concede we’re mates?

Shit. She had to get him out of here. The magic built further, an uneasy, sickly pressure in the air that didn’t bode well. Not at all. Instinctively she reached for her magic, only to have the collar throb again, almost throwing her to her knees.

Maaaaaybe…. If you get me a pastry.
She closed her eyes and pulled strength from her beast to bolster her knees. All the time she whispered a little prayer to Hegra that he’d take the bait. Go back and get her a pastry, giving her time to sort out their visitors.

A pastry? You’re kidding me, right?
His mental voice was incredulous.
You want me to go back—

Please.
Shit, she shouldn’t beg. It wasn’t her and would tip him off something was wrong.
I really like them. And I’m hungry. Really hungry. Being injured and all….

Okay, okay.
He huffed, but she could hear the smile in his voice.
Pastry it is. Any particular kind?

The magic built to fever pitch, vibrations raising all the fine hairs on her skin as it raced over her to locate the collar. To her left, the door burst inwards, Red Caps flowing through the entry like beads poured from a container. High-pitched cursing shattered the peace and solitude of the apartment.