Fury of Obsession (Dragonfury Series Book 5) (30 page)

“Sorry about all the hocus-pocus, Evie.” His mouth brushed the top of her head, bringing more warm comfort. Feeding on his body heat, unable to find the words for what she needed, Evelyn showed him instead. She pressed closer. Venom tightened his grip and, pushing his hands under the hem of her jacket, hugged her harder. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

The sound of his voice made her tremble.

“Shit,” he said, lifting his head. “It’s freezing out here. Let me get you inside.”

She cleared her throat, trying to make her voice work. “Do you live here?”

“First time I’ve been.” Gathering up her legs, he swung her into his arms.

“I can walk.”

“Do you want to?”

Her bare toes twitched in protest. “Not really.”

“Then be quiet and enjoy the ride,” he said, a teasing lilt in his voice as he walked across the lawn.

“You always this bossy?”

“Part of my charm.”

“You think?” she asked, loading the question with enough doubt to sink a ship.

He snorted. “You’re lippy.”

“Disappointed?”

Stepping onto a flagstone path, he glanced down at her. “Not even a little.”

The heat in his eyes scorched her, lighting her up from the inside out. Blatant need. Unquenchable want. Burning desire. All three darkened his odd-colored eyes, telling her plainer than words he still wanted her. That he had big plans, ones in which she played the centerfold in his sexual fantasies. Her breath caught. An answering pulse of desire streamed through her. Wow. Crazy. Beyond fascinating. It wasn’t about money anymore. Something had changed. Something monumental. He seemed more intent now. More focused on he
r . . .
completely ravenous.

Awareness upped the ante, begging her to reciprocate. Her gaze strayed to his mouth. His lips parted in reaction, prompting memory, firebombing her imagination, igniting an internal flame. And she remembere
d . . .
everything. The way he kissed. How he tasted. How much she wanted to see him without a stitch on. All that golden skin on display. All those hard muscles under her hands. All his sexual focus riveted on her. Her hands buried in his long hair. His hips between her thighs. Her tongue tangled with his.

Her mouth went dry.

Red eyes shimmering, Venom’s nostrils flared.

Dragging her attention from his mouth, she met his gaze. Hot lust shone in his eyes. Evelyn clenched her teeth.
Back away.
Back away!
Her mind screamed the instruction, hammering reason home. She needed to remain even—and thinking. Putting the cart before the horse—or in this case, sex before the answers—would land her in serious trouble. More than she was already in, the kind a girl didn’t come back from. Turning her head, Evelyn broke eye contact in favor of keeping her mind. Lord knew she’d just gotten it back. She wouldn’t give it up again without a fight.

“Evi
e . . .
”

She swallowed, working moisture back into her mouth. “Yeah?”

“You’re thinking naughty thoughts.”

“What?” Ah, frig. Busted. Guilty as charged. Her face heated. Prickles attacked her skin, warming her cheeks to a full blush. “No, I’m not.”

His mouth curved. “Any time you want,
mazleiha
. Say the word, and I’ll take you there. Make you come so hard, you scream my name.”

Her body tightened. Evelyn twitched against her will. Oh God. Why did he have to go and say things like that? “Bossy and cocky. You really should get a handle on that.”

He huffed in laughter.

She backpedaled into mental safety, grounding herself in the sound of his footfalls. The thump-thump echoed on the stone path, drifting on frigid air. Her heart picked up the beat. Blood rushing in her ears, Evelyn focused on her surroundings. The sound of waves rolled onto the beach behind her. A testament to architecture rose in front of her. Three stories high, the house boasted wide windows that looked out onto the Sound. Evelyn sighed in appreciation. Even with its boxy, modern shape, the place looked like it belonged. As though it had been planted centuries earlier, then left to grow out of the landscape.

A few things gave its true origins away. Wide cedar-plank siding on the upper levels for one. The complementing pattern of the uneven stone facade on the first floor for another. Evelyn’s mouth curved. She recognized new-age old when she saw it. Built to look ancient, but in actuality state-of-the-art new.

Pace steady, Venom skirted the round fountain in the middle of the path and, dipping his head, brushed past sculpted cedars to reach the stone patio. Low-lying shrubs surrounded the elevated stone terrace. Deep and wide, the deck stretched end to end, taking up the entire back side of the house. Without breaking stride, he jogged up three steps and headed for a bank of tall windows on the ground floor. Halfway across, a lock snicked and a set of double doors opened. She expected to see someone standing on the other side, feet planted inside the house, hand on the handle. She searched the darkness beyond the doors.

Nothing and nobody.

Her brows collided. She glanced at Venom from the corner of her eye. “Did you do that?”

“I’m Dragonkind, Evie,” he said as though that explained everything.

She blinked.
Dragonkind
. Weird, but all right. She bought that. Hard to argue the point after being flown here by Venom. “Which means—what, exactly? That you can move things with your mind?”

“Yes. Magic is part of my makeup. It’s written in my DNA.”

“Are you even human?”

“Half.” Reaching the house, he stepped over the threshold.

The doors shut with a thud behind him. Halogens flicked on, then dimmed, throwing shadows across the open-concept setup—living room, dining area, and kitchen all in one. Skirting a large end table, he stopped in front of a wide-backed armchair. Or well, what looked like one. Hidden beneath a white sheet, the lumpy form reminded her of a ghost. Spooky. Floating above the wooden floor. Lying in wait to broadside an unsuspecting victim in the dark.

Kind of like Venom had done to her on the hospital rooftop.

An image of him transforming flamed in her mind. Silence spun in the picture’s wake, rising hard between them. The quiet settled, whirling through the room, stripping her already-frayed nerves. Wariness spilled into the void, obliterating ease, silencing earlier banter, making her skin feel three sizes too small.

Discomfort spun its witchy web.

Shifting in his arms, Evelyn cleared her throat.

Hard muscle flexed around her. Venom exhaled and, with a gentle draw, slipped his forearm from beneath her knees. Her feet dropped to the floor. She leaned away from him. The shift wasn’t much. Barely there displacement, but Venom got the message. Honoring her tension, understanding her silent request for space, he took his hands from her waist and retreated. One step turned into more. Boot soles scraping over wood floors, he stopped opposite her, in front of the long couch six feet away.

Evelyn should’ve been grateful. He’d done what she asked, after all, and backed off. Somehow, though, the move didn’t make her happy. Loss cranked her tight instead, urging her to call him back. To bridge the distance. To ask to be held and for more comfort.

Something else that didn’t make sense. Yet, for all her confusion, the urge rang true.

Like it or not, having him close soothed her. Without him, reality set in, making her forget his gentleness in favor of remembering his fangs. Understandable. No doubt a normal reaction—that felt all wrong. Surprising as it seemed, she didn’t want to be afraid of him. Didn’t want to look him in the eye and see a threat. She wanted a friend, not a new enemy. Someone to help her navigate the strange new world she’d landed in the middle of.

Dragonkind
. Her throat went tight. Dear lord, it still sounded unreal.

“So half dragon, huh,” she said, forcing her voice out of hiatus.

Venom nodded. “My mother was human, my father, Dragonkind.”

“Oh, wel
l . . .
” Stood to reason. Made perfect sense in an imaginary world.

And yet, there he stood, looking positively lick worthy—like her favorite flavor of fantasy man, six and a half feet of wide-shouldered, hard-bodied perfection. She met his gaze. Her brain bottomed out, sinking into a cerebral muck hole. Beautiful man to vicious dragon—one and the same, part and parcel of the same pie. A switch-up that defied the natural order of things. She frowned. Didn’t it? She ran her gaze over him again and shook her head.

“We’re a different species, Evie, that’s all.”

“That’s all?” she echoed, incredulity making her voice rasp and the words wobble. Dear God, she sounded like a mental patient—half-confused, half-hysterical. “Doesn’t that seem like enough? I mea
n . . .
God. How is that even possible? How is it no one knows about you? You’re flying around, blowing stuff up, starting fires and—”

“I didn’t start the fire in the hospital. Ivar did,” he said. “And we’ve stayed hidden from humankind to protect your race. Better for us. Safer for you.”

“Why? Afraid of our history as dragon slayers?”

His lips twitched. “Something like that.”

“Who’s Ivar?”

“My enemy.” His gaze went flat. Evelyn tensed, recognizing the violence in him. “A male who will imprison and hurt you if he finds you, Evie. A distinct possibility now that he’s seen you.”

Panic drilled deep, jabbing at her lungs, making it hard to breathe. “I don’
t . . .
why would h
e . . .
that doesn’t make any sense. I’m nothing to him.”

“You’re a high-energy female,” he murmured, his regret unmistakable. “Tremendously valuable, a prize among my kind. Many would die to possess you.”

“You included?”

“No.” Ruby gaze pinned on her, he shook his head. “I would die to protect you. The possession part is entirely up to you.”

“Oh my God. You’re talking in circles,” she whispered. Pressure built behind her eyes. Bowing her head, Evelyn pressed the heels of her palms to her orbital sockets. The clampdown didn’t help. Pain tightened its grip instead, refusing to abate, making her temples throb. “What the hell is going on?”

“I know you’re scared. What you saw tonight is shocking, but—”

“It’s not that.” Leveling her chin, Evelyn rubbed the sore spot between her eyes. “I mean it is, bu
t . . .
” Drawing a choppy breath, she flicked her hands, the gesture one of helplessness born of fatigue. “It’s more than that too.”

“Tell me.”

She shook her head.

“Come on,
mazleiha
,” he said, tone so soothing her heart panged. Tears rose in reaction, pooling in her eyes. Concern on his face, Venom stared at her a moment, then closed the distance. He stopped in front of her. Raising his hand, he cupped the side of her throat. He tugged. Evelyn didn’t resist. She went without protest, letting him pull her into his arms. Heat prickled over her nape. Relief washed in, arriving on a warm wave of sensation. “I was meant to find you, Evie. I mean to protect you. Please, talk to me. Let me help.”

His entreaty obliterated her will to resist.

The dam broke, cracking her wide open. The truth spilled out before she could stop it. “It’s too much—the last straw, you know? I’ve been holding it together with a shoestring, trying everything I can think of to stay in one piece. But no matter what I do it keeps getting worse—first my mom, then Markov and the money, my job too. Now Mema and the whole dragon thing. It’s too much, Venom. I can’t handle any more.”

“I understand, Evie.”

“No, you don’t.”

One hand caressing her back, he slid the other to her nape. “You’re not alone, love.”

“Then why do I feel like I am?”

“Because it always feels worse in the moment than it actually is.”

“Maybe,” she said, half huff, half hiccup.

He could say anything he liked, but nothing changed the facts. With Mema gone, she was alone in the world. Without family. Without a lifeline. One hundred percent on her own. Funny thing, though? Venom was right. Talking to him helped. Admitting her problems—facing her fears—made her feel less afraid. More optimistic too, something she needed more than a paycheck. Closing her eyes, she allowed herself to hope. Maybe things would get better. Maybe her problems weren’t insurmountable. Maybe she could do something else, change tack, find other solutions, concentrate on figuring out her life instead of running scared.

The idea took root.

Belief and conviction collided, dragging possibility into the picture. Muscles twisted by stress loosened. Evelyn relaxed with a sigh, welcoming relief as the knot in the center of her chest unraveled.

“Feel better?”

“A little,” she whispered. “You’ve got serious Dr. Phil skills.”

He smiled against the top of her head. “I’m a fix-it ninja.”

Evelyn snorted. The urge to laugh surprised her. She smiled anyway. Good lord, he said the strangest things. Funny things. Charming things. Which equated to big trouble for her. He became more appealing by the moment. His sense of humor added to the sexy-as-sin vibe he carried around like cargo an
d . . .
boy, oh boy. Watch out world. She was headed for a fall. One that would end with her flat on her back while Venom stripped her bare.

“Hey, Evie?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Markov I’ve figured out. Who’s Mema?”

“My grandmother.” Her heart clenched. Grief spilled out as an image of Mema rose inside her head. Flower apron on, wooden spoon raised, eyes twinkling in merriment about something while she fried up a batch of to-die-for chicken. Evelyn always thought of her that way—talking, laughing, in her favorite spot in front of the stove. A sob caught in the back of her throat. The tears she struggled to contain rolled over her bottom lashes. “She died at the hospital tonight. The doctors wouldn’t let me see her. I didn’t get to say good-bye.”

“Ah, hell.” His hand flexed on her nape. Turning his head, he pressed his cheek against hers. “I’m so sorry, Evie.”

“It’s a nightmare, Veno
m . . .
a
nightmare
.” Another sob escaped her. Not knowing what to do, Evelyn fisted her hands in his shirt and hung on hard. Her chest heaved on hiccups. Tears continued to fall, cascading into an avalanche of emotional ruin. “I can’t make it stop. My situation keeps going from bad to worse.”