“Are you?” Mick sat up, proving that he was mother-naked under the covers. “You stopped Undead Jim from killing people in the club. You stopped him before he could destroy the dragons who came for you, and you healed Bancroft.”
“One man died.” I thought of the chauffeur’s assistant, whose name I’d never learned, lying dead on Maya’s front lawn. His only crime had been to open the car door for me.
“More would have if you hadn’t intervened.”
“No, he wouldn’t be dead
at all
if not for me. Jim rushed out there to prevent the dragons from taking me.”
Mick frowned. “Why?”
“Good question. Hell if I know. Maybe he senses my Beneath magic when I use it, like Coyote does, and comes to find me.”
“Do you think your mother was the one who resurrected him?”
“I don’t know. The vortex is sealed. I haven’t sensed her come out, and she hasn’t tried to find me. If—when—she can get out again, I think I’d be the first person she hunted down. I’d know if she were free.”
“Another god from Beneath, then?”
“Could be. That’s what I’m gambling on. But there are plenty of gods above too, aren’t there? Coyote for one. Spider Woman. The kachinas. They can be benevolent but also scary. And powerful.”
“Coyote doesn’t admit to it?” Mick asked.
“He says no, but does Coyote never lie? He’s a trickster god. He does what he pleases, for his own reasons.”
Outside, the sunlight began to dim as clouds gathered on the mountains. They were black, dense clouds, full of water and lightning. The storm magic in me reached out to the thickening storm like an old friend, and a spark of lightning danced between my fingers.
Mick’s eyes started to darken. “Want me to draw it off?” he asked in a low voice.
Mick knew how to heat my blood with only a look. He’d done that to me the night I’d met him, over a meal in a Las Vegas restaurant. Within an hour, I’d been in bed with him, surrendering my virginity to a man with wicked eyes.
“Mick,” I said slowly, “I’m not sure I’ve forgiven you. For not trusting me.”
“I know.” He laid his hand on my belly and eased the sheet down so he could toy with the tiny stud at my navel.
“And I think you’re right to not trust me,” I said.
“I don’t agree.” He moved to play with the stud with his tongue.
His hot breath on my skin made me go warm and pliant in spite of myself. “Mick, why do you always do this to me?”
“Because I love you. And because I want to feast on you whenever I see you.”
He proceeded to feast. I could have stopped him, I suppose, could have told him to get out, or, better still, to fly me out of here with him. But no, I leaned back against the pillows and moaned softly as he licked his way from my navel, taking his time, until his mouth closed over my cleft.
Mick did things to me with his tongue that no man should know how to do. My hips moved as he licked me, his mouth sending gritty heat all up and down my body. Outside, the storm built, cold wind driving the clouds from the towering mountains. Lightning sparkled in my fingertips, and Mick raised his head and sucked that out of me too.
Mick’s eyes were now black all the way across. He lowered his head again and devoured me until I was holding on to the headboard, crying my ecstasy to the ceiling. He kept on until I’d come once, twice. Right before the third time, Mick shoved the rest of the covers from the bed and climbed over me, his body hot and hard with wanting. I caught his shaft in my hand to stroke him, to return the pleasure he’d given me, but he shoved my hand away, pressed me down, and entered me.
Gods, it felt so good to have him inside me. I’d feared I’d never feel that again. I arched to meet Mick’s thrusts, my nails raking down his back. The tattoo that snaked across the small of his back, from hip to hip, was hot under my touch, my dragon-man barely containing his fire. Thoughts of what would happen when he decided to let go excited the hell out of me.
He rode me until he spilled his seed, both of us groaning in release. But I knew he wasn’t finished. Mick could sex me all night and well into the next day if he wanted to, and he’d only stop for my sake.
He wasn’t one for unadventurous sex, and the things we did on that bed—not to mention the use we made of the headboard, the chair across the room, and the balcony railing—created more hot memories I could savor when I was old and gray.
When Mick finally finished, hours later, and laid me gently on the bed, covering me with the tumbled quilts, my head had stopped hurting, my scoured body refreshed. Mick had healed me as he’d loved me, and I hadn’t even noticed.
Drake sent his gunmen for us about ten minutes into our afterglow. I wondered if Drake had the room monitored, and then I decided I didn’t care. They’d kidnapped me and held me captive; they could eat their hearts out watching my boyfriend enjoy me.
When the nice men with automatic rifles walked into the room, the one who seemed to be in charge told us to get dressed and accompany them to Drake. No offer of breakfast, no Todd breezing in with a tray and fresh towels.
I got out of bed and put on my clothes right in front of the gunmen, figuring it would save them from searching me later. I left the shard of mirror where it was next to the bed. Drake already knew about it, and it had keyed into all the mirrors in the house by now. If things got bad, it could send a message to Cassandra, who might be able to find Coyote, who might get off his butt and save us.
Might, might, might. Nothing was certain.
As we were marched through the house, I wondered about Jim. I’d told Mick that I thought Jim was sensing when I used my Beneath magic, and I’d used it big-time to heal Bancroft last night. I wondered if Jim were somewhere around here or whether Bancroft’s men shooting him full of holes had slowed him down any.
I felt sorry for Jim. He hadn’t asked to be resurrected, and he couldn’t handle the power that ran through his body. But although he didn’t mean to kill people, he still did it. He had to be found and stopped.
The room the gunmen took us to opened onto the courtyard, where a fountain played, its water soothing music. Rain pattered into the courtyard, thunder rumbled in the distance, and the breeze brought us the fine scents of rain and wind.
Bancroft the councilman, now wearing a black suit similar to the one I’d first seen him in, stood by the open window with his back to us. Drake, waiting near him, said nothing when we entered, only motioned with a flick of his fingers for the gunmen to leave us.
“Micalerianicum,” Bancroft said. “I’m surprised to see you here.”
“Not surprising at all. Janet is my mate.”
“You always told me your name was Mick,” I said under my breath.
Mick gave me a smile. “I didn’t want to scare you away.”
Drake snorted. “Humans have difficulty with names that are longer than a few syllables.”
“You haven’t met some Native Americans I know,” I said. “But I agree that Mick’s full name is a little ridiculous. So is yours.”
“And yours is so brief it is finished before one takes in its meaning,” Drake returned. “What does it mean, this Janet Begay?”
“Just Janet.” I had another name, in fact, the spirit name my father had given me the day of my birth, but no one was allowed to know it. Names could be tricky things. If you gave someone your true name, they could use it to gain power over you.
“These words are not our real names,” Mick said, as though he read my thoughts. “Our true names are like musical notes, sung to us before we’re hatched. They’re part of the magic that makes dragons what they are.”
Drake scowled. “You would give this knowledge to a being like her?”
“The being like her saved your master’s ass.”
Bancroft finally turned around. “I was told what happened, and your magic mirror replayed the incident for me.” Bancroft gave me a stiff bow. “I am grateful for your assistance.”
“She healed you,” Mick said. “Pure and simple.”
“She shouldn’t have been able to,” Drake said.
“No one can be stronger than the mighty dragons?” I asked. “That’s what this is all about, isn’t it?”
Drake went a fine shade of purple. He’d recovered well from last night, his dark suit pristine, his ponytail sleek, every hair in place. “You’ve known of the existence of dragons for what, four months? How can you even begin to know what being a dragon is?”
“I know you were terrified I’d open the vortexes and release a goddess from Beneath, endangering the dragons.”
“Endangering everyone,” Bancroft said. “Humans as well.”
“Oh, you’re finally getting around to mentioning humans, are you?” I asked. “All I ever hear is that the
dragons
fear the magic, that releasing it will be the end of the
dragons
. You don’t give a rat’s ass about the rest of humanity. There are plenty of dangers to humans, but I don’t see you running around trying to put a stop to them. But when the dragons are in trouble, suddenly people have to die, and Mick gets put on trial for
not
doing murder.”
Bancroft gave me a frosty look. “You know nothing, girl.”
“She’s not wrong,” Mick said. “You two know very little about humans. You don’t walk among them. Janet has far more compassion than any dragon I know.”
“We walk among them,” Drake said. “We live here, outside a human city. We employ humans.”
“Outside the city,” Mick answered. “Employ them. You don’t
live
with them. You don’t go to their bars and play pool with them and listen to what they have to say. You’ve locked yourselves in your fortresses so long you don’t know what goes on outside them.”
Bancroft broke in. “She might have compassion as you say, but the magic from Beneath will consume her if she does not learn to suppress it. But that is a separate issue. You, Mick, will stand trial for breaking your word to the council and disobeying dragon law. I’ve tried to find some way around it, but I can’t. The other councilors are adamant.”
“That’s fine,” Mick said in a mild voice. “I’ll be there.”
“It’s ridiculous,” I said.
“That doesn’t matter.” Bancroft’s tone was hard. “Whether a human girl thinks our laws are right or wrong is irrelevant. He has broken his pledge, and he must answer for it.”
Damn but they were stubborn. Mick wasn’t much better, simply answering with a nod. He was going to let them conduct their sham trial and decide what kind of ordeal he had to withstand for the crime of sparing my life.
“Why did you bring me here?” I asked. “Before Jim went on his killing rampage, you planned to kidnap me and drag me off here for some reason. You’ve never gotten around to telling me what.”
Bancroft surprised me with a little smile. He really was a good-looking man when he did that. So was Drake, though I doubted I’d ever catch Drake smiling.
“I brought you here to interrogate you about what Mick’s defense would be.”
My brows shot up. “Really? And you expected me to tell you?”
“I expected to pry it out of you using whatever methods I had at hand. So that I can prepare.”
“Well, forget it.” I let lightning crackle through my fingers. I knew this wouldn’t scare dragons, who could eat storm power and enjoy it, but the sparks dancing in my hands made a nice show. “Why didn’t you kidnap Colby and interrogate him? Or have you already?’
Bancroft shook his head. “That is forbidden.”
“But interrogating me isn’t?”
“You’re human.”
I growled, tossed the lightning around the room, and smiled when Drake and Bancroft jumped. The electricity dissipated harmlessly, but the air smelled of ozone and power. “I’d have disappointed you even if you did torture me. I really don’t know what Colby is planning.”
Shouts outside the door interrupted us. I heard the head gunman yell, “Stand down! Stand down!” and a snarled response. A third man out there was trying to apologize at the top of his voice.
Bancroft jerked a hand at Drake, but Drake was already moving, a pistol coming out from under his coat as he flung open the door.
“You send her out here, unhurt, and I’ll go away,” a sharp voice said. “
With
her.”
“Oh, for the gods’ sake,” I whispered.
“Mr. Bancroft, I am so sorry,” another man was saying. “I told him we couldn’t burst in here, that you were a prominent citizen in your private home, not a criminal.”
“Where is she?”
I peered over Drake’s shoulder. Nash stood there with his nine-millimeter pointed at the lead gunman’s head, his hand unwavering. Behind Nash was another man in a sheriff’s deputy’s uniform, looking red, apologetic, and out of breath.
“I’m all right, Nash,” I said. “We were just chatting.”
Nash’s gun didn’t move. “Let her walk out here.”
“Explain this,” Bancroft snapped at them.
“I’m sorry, sir,” the head gunman said. “He charged the front door and shoved his way in.”