Cara and The Draca

DAUGHTERS OF DRACA 2: CARA AND THE DRACA Louisa Kelley www.loose-id.com Daughters of Draca 2: Cara and the Draca C...

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DAUGHTERS OF DRACA 2:

CARA AND THE DRACA

Louisa Kelley

www.loose-id.com

Daughters of Draca 2: Cara and the Draca Copyright © January 2012 by Louisa Kelley All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the original purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without prior written permission from Loose Id LLC. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights. Purchase only authorized editions. eISBN 978-1-61118-695-6 Editor: G. G. Royale Cover Artist: Christine M. Griffin Printed in the United States of America Published by Loose Id LLC PO Box 809 San Francisco CA 94104-0809 www.loose-id.com This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Warning This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. Loose Id LLC’s e-books are for sale to adults ONLY, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

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Louisa Kelley | Cara and the Draca

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Chapter One The tattoo really did seem to glow. Cara lifted her latte and took a sip, eyeing Ellen’s forearm and the dark, rich inks coloring the intricate design. She leaned closer for a better look, her heart beating inexplicably faster. Ellen edged her sleeve up farther and sighed as she rotated her arm so they could admire the tattoo from different angles. “See? What did I tell you—un-freakingbelievable.” “Yeah, you’re right,” Cara said. “I’ve never seen anything like it. What beautiful work—this guy must have a really steady hand.” “I know,” Ellen said. “You should go check this shop out. Maybe this could help.” Cara shrugged, looking down at the table. She knew exactly what Ellen meant. Didn’t mean she felt like talking about it. Ever. “There’s that little problem about me and needles, remember? Not a good thing.” Her needle phobia was well-known. Easy excuse. The fact that she near fainted anytime blood was drawn made her stay in the hospital especially traumatic. “Come on, who’re you talking to here? I know what’s going on. If you won’t go the plastic surgery route, here’s the next best solution. He’s a flippin’ master tattoo artist. The absolute best I’ve ever seen. And you know what?” Ellen grinned, leaned over the table, and patted Cara’s shoulder. “There’s a bit of paranormality involved— just for you!” “You mean the whole ‘he doesn’t have an address’ thing?” “Exactly. No address, no hit on Google. Even if you post something on Yelp or Facebook or whatever, it’s gone the next day. No one knows why. I swear, you just


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drive into Old Town and somehow you find it. Old brick alleyway. Kind of spooky. And when you get there, you can’t believe you didn’t find it faster.” The large burn scar on Cara’s shoulder throbbed, a constant reminder of the pain and guilt she carried with her every day since the explosion that had killed her best friend. Maybe Ellen was right—a big, kick-ass tattoo might be just the thing to hide her hideous scar. Dull the memories that still woke her with nightmares. Maybe she could even get over her fear of needles if a tattoo would lessen some of this emotional pain. “Do you think a tattoo would really cover this up?” “I don’t know. I mean, it seems possible,” Ellen said. “Why don’t you give your burn doc a call and see what he thinks?” “Okay.” Cara smiled a little at Ellen. “I’ll make that call tomorrow. Now give me some clues, girlfriend. If I’m really going to find this mysterious shop, I need some kind of directions. What’s the guy’s name, and what street should I start on?” “Great!” Ellen leaned over the table and gave Cara a quick hug. “Okay, here’s what you do.” Ellen hesitated, eyeing Cara as if the next part might scare her away. “Now I know this is going to sound kind of weird, but just hear me out, okay?” Cara nodded. She knew there was some kind of strangeness about finding this shop. “Drive across the Burnside Bridge,” Ellen said. “Don’t take the bus. You’ll never find it on foot. Turn right as soon as you can. Keep going straight ahead. Feel the wheel under your hand, put your focus out to the streets, and open your mind.” She spoke with obvious care, as if each word was important to understand. “Imagine a small tattoo shop and have faith. You’ll find your way if it’s meant to be. And I bet, in your case, you will definitely find the shop. I mean, if anyone deserves the most beautiful tattoo ever, you do.” According to the urban legend that had sprung up about the shop, not everyone who searched—even when accompanied by a former client of Old Town Tattoo—could


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find the place. People said the shop “called you.” If you weren’t called, you never found your way to the door. Ellen was right about the attraction of something paranormal. Cara was crazy about fantasy and had recently started reading paranormal romance novels, to the huge amusement of her circle of friends. Somehow, the stories of sexy shape-changing wolves and magical fairies eased the long nights when nightmares about the bombing made sleep erratic at best. “Okay, okay,” Cara said. “Sounds like an adventure.” She tipped her cup and finished her coffee, then stood up to lead the way out of the shop into a light spring drizzle. They both grimaced at the gray weather. Portland springs tended toward the dismal. Cara gave Ellen a hug. “Thanks, girlfriend. For everything. You know, after… I don’t know what I would have done without you.” “No worries. Just go find that shop. And there’s a bonus, by the way. Something besides the amazing art.” Ellen gave her a mischievous grin and waved over her shoulder as she headed for the bus stop. Feeling buoyed by her visit with Ellen, Cara set off for her car. A tattoo that could possibly hide her burn. Something beautiful to cover the ugly. Cara’s stomach clenched in need. For what? Relief. A breakthrough. Answers. Why was Jackie dead? Such a sad ending to the last chapter of a life that had increasingly been filled with wrong choices. Jackie had finally been trying to get her act together and had found a job as an accountant, working for a mysterious boss who owned most of the adult video stores in Portland. Then a bomb had blown up the biggest porn warehouse on the West Coast and caught Jackie in the building, murdering her and destroying millions of dollars’ worth of merchandise. Cara had gotten caught in the terrible explosion when she went to pick up Jackie for their lunch date. The experience left her with a hideous burn scar on her shoulder and arm. Small price to pay for making it out alive.


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Almost anything would be better than going on like she had been. And having a bit of a “paranormality” adventure as promised by Ellen sounded intriguing, especially since it might result in the camouflage of her burn. Cara decided to throw logic along with her needle phobia out the window and just go for it. She could use a little fun, on so many levels.

**** The next evening she grabbed her purse and left the house, feeling a bit foolish. Whatever. If she couldn’t find the place, she’d drag Ellen along with her next time. No way did she believe Ellen couldn’t find her way back, despite the growing urban legends. “Old Town, here I come,” she muttered and headed her battered compact car for the Burnside Bridge, crossing the Willamette River to the west side of town. The lazy expanse of the river, murky green in the setting light, wound between Portland’s east and west sides until it met the great Columbia River. Portland’s modest downtown skyline loomed ahead, and the evening traffic on the narrow city streets seemed lighter than usual. As she drove, she thought about the conversation with her burn doctor. He actually sported a few tattoos of his own and proved very sympathetic to her idea. He had taken a minute to examine her scar and the way it sat on her skin and then had patted her with a fatherly gesture. “I think it will depend on the expertise of the tattoo artist,” he had said. “It might work, or the ink may have trouble sinking into the skin. But if you can stand the possible discomfort from the needles, and if you don’t faint while he’s using them on you, then I can’t see that it would hurt anything to try.” Cara had shared a laugh with him at the prospect of volunteering to let needles anywhere near her body. Cara turned north once she got to the west side and drove slowly into the narrow streets of Old Town Portland. The scene was surprisingly quiet, even for a Sunday evening, giving her a perfect opportunity for slow-car sleuthing. As she traveled, a sense of which direction to go grew stronger. Her hands seemed to direct the wheel


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without her conscious thought. Interesting. Ellen’s hints of a slight paranormal quality to the search had intrigued her, but this was getting a bit spooky. Century-old, faded brick buildings lined these streets, some deserted and crumbling while evidence of urban renewal showed in small pockets of construction. Seafood markets, Chinese restaurants, and liquor stores dominated the area. This was the oldest section of Portland, a mix of landmarks and history, shelters and food kitchens. The only people on the street besides her were small lumps of sleeping homeless folk, huddled under tarps and blankets against the brick sides of a social services advocacy office. She drove on, looking for alleyways. Her stomach knotted in growing unease. This was crazy, right? Nothing weird at all about the fact that directions seemed to be whispering in her head? She’d almost talked herself out of continuing when she rounded a corner on a street she’d been down at least three times already and saw something new. Slowing to a crawl, she peered at the corner of a narrow alley. Cracked and faded brick lined the street, which was clearly not city maintained. The entire look and feel of the area seemed like a remnant of the nineteenth century, very much as Ellen had described. No businesses here except one, at the far end. A yellowish porch light still shone, casting shadows on sagging wooden steps. Nosing her car into the alley, she peered at the dim sign hanging in the window, making out several Ts and an O. This must be the place. Her heart rate picked up as she rolled to the alley end and parked in front of the shop. She pushed open the car door, and cool evening air greeted her. Cara stepped up the creaky stairs of the quiet business. The sign said OLD TOWN TATTOO. Was it open? When Cara hesitated, her shoulder throbbed as if to say, Do something about me. She turned the brass doorknob and pushed the heavy wooden door slightly open.


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She leaned her head in. “Hello?” She heard a crash from the back, like glass breaking. Someone uttered an oath. “Be right there,” a distracted masculine voice called out. While she waited, she took a minute to look around. Old-fashioned wallpaper in tiny flowers covered every wall; a faded rose velvet sofa and matching side chairs took up one end of the narrow room, giving the overall ambience of a quaint English parlor. The smells of old wood and smoke permeated the air, yet she couldn’t see any evidence of a fireplace or woodstove. It all seemed so…lovely. Not very Portland hipsterish at all, and certainly nothing indicated this place had anything to do with tattoos. Her curiosity about the whole situation grew even further.

AEDHAN SWORE AT the small disaster in his kitchen. Glass and irreplaceable indigo ink were strewn all over the floor. The devil take it—how could anyone have found him so unguarded? Leaving the mess, he strode to the front, still cursing under his breath. He had no doubt the wards had been powered; there should not have been any human capable of getting past them. So who the hell was in his shop? He stopped short at the sight of his intruder. Female. Tall with long, long legs. Straight red hair and…freckles. Goddess. Freckles. The most delightful sprinkling of freckles he had ever seen covered her lovely face. His kind had never been graced with freckles. “Hello,” he said, grinning in unexpected delight. He held out his hand. “Excuse the delay. Welcome to Old Town Tattoo.” She raised startled blue eyes. “If you’re not open I can come back later.” “No…no, we’re open.” He didn’t mention he usually closed early on Sundays. She’d made it through the front door, so apparently his work continued. A surge of adrenaline rocketed up his spine, synapses waking, urging him to the ink. The shop had issued an invitation, or she wouldn’t be here. Taranis and Alwen’s newest trick? The gods of Draca were known for their capriciousness.


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His surprise guest seemed anxious, edgy. And hurting. From what, he had no idea. Ah, a puzzle. How his gods loved puzzles. “Come in.” He gestured her to the overstuffed couch against the wall. “How did you find me?” He mentally kicked himself for asking the question. She could not understand the significance of his inquiry. “Good question. You know you’re not listed anywhere—like at all? Even Google didn’t have a single link.” He grinned again. Google—she had googled him. He couldn’t help feeling a certain thrill, Google being one of his favorite discoveries about this strange human world. However, he had no need to explain why humans couldn’t find his shop by conventional means. “My friend told me about you,” Cara said. “She didn’t have your address either, but you were so highly recommended I thought I’d give it a shot.” She licked her pale pink lips in a nervous gesture. Aedhan watched in fascination as the tip of her tongue touched her lips, and something tightened in his groin. She had the classic porcelain skin of a redhead, but the similarity to his family of redheads ended there. Her pale blue eyes shone with a subtle fae quality, her facial skin an almost luminous pale that spoke of hidden pain. The sense of cosmic forces at work rocked him again. She had found him, when the spell of invitation he put out every night had long since grown cold. This had never happened before. His brother self—his twin nature—snapped awake in Aedhan’s consciousness. “Keep her here.” The command whispering under his skin matched his own inclination. “Find out more.” He sniffed; a delicate, spicy scent enticed him, tinged with her palpable unease. Intriguing. Nothing happened anymore the gods didn’t have a hand in. Aedhan had learned this the hard way during the past six months.


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“Would you like to see some designs?” Aedhan said, reaching for his business manners. “I have several binders you can look at.” “No, thanks. I brought my own.” Out of courtesy he gave the scrap of paper she handed him a quick glance, then returned it to her. In the end all his clients received the design he, or rather, the powers chose for them anyway. He just let them think they’d picked it themselves. The spell dictated his hands and inspired the images he laid. Aedhan, along with his clients, simply followed along. “If you don’t mind, I need to do a little cleanup. Then I’ll show you to the procedure room. Can you wait a few minutes?” “Yeah, sure. No problem.” Cara shrugged, although she seemed poised to run. He realized he didn’t want her to leave. “What’s your name?” He stalled, wanting reassurance she wouldn’t bolt the second he left the room. “Cara. And yours?” She lifted her pale blue eyes to his, and he caught his breath. Such need shone; his attention sharpened even further. They were exchanging niceties like two regular people meeting. How surreal. “I’m Aedhan,” he said. “I’ll be right back.” He tore himself away and headed to the kitchen. He cleaned up his mess and then pulled together a new sterilized kit. He could hardly wait to get his hands on her. Sanctioned touch—thank the gods! He was only allowed skin-on-skin contact with women during the tattoo process. His sex life had dried to dust, held captive by the mission rules of celibacy as laid down by his sister, Nareen. Nareen, who had cast the entire spell, insisted in no uncertain terms that he refrain from intimate contact with the women of this world—at least until he accomplished what he’d been sent here to do. She knew him too well, he thought ruefully. His reputation on Dracan the past year in particular had been well earned.

TATTOO GUY WAS gorgeous. She remembered Ellen’s laughing comment about a “bonus.” This must be what she had meant. Her friends went on and on about the


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tattoo, but about him, the one who designed it, not a word. Cara tried to quiet her absurdly racing heart. She gazed out the parlor window, past the sign with the faded lettering, while her mind whirled. The strength of her instant attraction kind of rocked her. Tall, buff, and eccentrically handsome didn’t even begin to cover it. One look at his crazy-colored tangerine hair, long and thick on his shoulders, gave her the first jolt, and then when his emerald green eyes met hers with such a knowing look—as if he was seeing something…more. Wow. Cara took a deep breath. Nerves that had been clamoring since she got out of the car zinged again. She mentally shook herself. She could do this. He strode back into the room and smiled at her. She already loved his smile. He glowed with such cheery reassurance she found herself relaxing. A little. “All set,” he said. “Come on back.” She followed him down a long hall to a doorway on the left, admiring the rear view of her charming host. Faded jeans hugged an extremely nice ass. He ushered her in and invited her to sit in a large, cushioned chair next to a stainless steel table. “What do you charge?” Cara asked, realizing she’d forgotten that part. “Well, prices range depending on the time needed and complexity of the design. Usually around seventy-five an hour? How does that sound?” “Really?” That seemed incredibly cheap. “Why? Do you think it’s too much?” He looked anxious, as if afraid he’d lose her business with such a price. “No! Actually, seventy-five is great.” “Good,” Aedhan said. “So where would you like your tattoo?” “Well.” Cara hesitated. “Here. On my shoulder.” She pulled up the short sleeve of her thin cotton blouse, revealing what she very seldom showed anyone. “Ah.” Aedhan flashed a look of understanding. “Cover-up.”


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Cara relaxed a bit more. He didn’t even twitch at the view of her angry red scar, burned into her skin with ridged and jagged lines. More remnants wrapped over her shoulder and trailed a few inches down her lower left chest. “Can you tattoo over the burn marks? I was worried perhaps the ink wouldn’t take or something like that. I did talk to my doctor first. He seemed to think it would be worth trying at least.” He leaned closer to get a better look. “Can I feel?” He raised his head, his gaze polite and nonjudgmental. “Ah, yeah. Sure.” Wait, what was she saying? Cara moved as if to pull her arm away when he stopped her with a gentle touch. Aedhan traced her scar with his index finger. His touch felt cool and impersonal, yet a subtle tingling rode under his fingertip as it moved along the outline of her burn. No one besides medical personnel had ever touched her there. He is touching my scar. “I agree with your doctor. I have some special techniques that may work very well for this situation. And here’s a great idea for a design,” he said, straightening and dropping his hand. “Check this out.” Her shoulder throbbed—not in pain, but with a startling sort of pleasure. He grabbed a sheet of paper from a stack on the ink tray. He began sketching, his long fingers grasping the pencil and moving across the scrap of paper with smooth, swift grace. A design rapidly appeared, shaped in the rough outline of a shoulder. Beautiful. Celtic inspired—always one of her favorite designs, what with her Irish ancestry and redheaded genetics and all. “Nice,” she said, immediately abandoning her own idea. “I love it. What kinds of colors, do you think?”


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“Hmmm.” Aedhan glanced at the rows of small plastic bottles, each filled with vibrant liquids, on a shelf over his workstation. “Purples and blues and emerald greens seem to be coming to me. How does that sound to you?” “Great. My favorite colors.” How did he know just what was right for her? “Well, then. Okay if I get started? I’m going to trace the outline in black first, then fill in with the colors.” Cara gulped. Hard part coming up. Needles. “Uh, I should tell you…I’m a bit nervous around needles. Get a little faint-headed sometimes. You know what I mean?” Aedhan turned from the tray and looked at her. His green eyes glittered in understanding. “I get that, but no problem here. I promise you will enjoy this if you relax and trust me.” Cara took a breath and let it out. She’d enjoy it? A sense of anticipation nudged her stomach. He was about to put hands and needles on her skin. On her burn. She nodded. “Okay. Give it your best shot.” And then she started unbuttoning her blouse.

“RIGHT.” AEDIN CLEARED his throat. “Good.” Cara slipped the blouse down her shoulder and followed with her narrow bra strap. She modestly kept the rest of herself covered, but this didn’t stop Aedhan from catching a glimpse of the sweet swell of her breasts. With more freckles disappearing down their intriguing slopes. He dragged his gaze away and focused on her shoulder. Reluctantly he pulled on a fresh pair of latex gloves, giving them a final snap at his wrists. He’d much rather be able to feel the soft flesh of her arm. “This is disinfectant,” he said, swiping the area with a small towelette. He pressed his special lining needle onto the machine and relaxed in some relief as the usual calm began to overtake him. Nothing could disturb his concentration once he


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entered the valley of the spell. He dipped and loaded the black, then turned back to his lovely client. He poised the machine above Cara’s arm. He twitched a little at the sight of her toned biceps, her arm stretched out on the armrest. Despite the disturbance he sensed in her energy, she exuded a potent physical and mental strength. Very attractive to one of his kind. Enough! Aedhan made himself focus on the foot pedal that controlled the ink gun. The low, soothing hum of the motor sang out in a familiar drone as he dropped the needle to her skin and silently sent out the call to the spell. Aedhan’s eyes closed as the design signaled the beginning of the sacred invocation. He drew harder on the powers that started flowing through his hands, knowing that covering her burn would require some extra assistance. She hadn’t asked why he didn’t lay a design tracing on her skin before he started. Her silence and lack of questions felt both welcome and strange; humans were usually so nosy. The steady hum of his machine matched the building rhythm of his confident hands. Aedhan moved the needle up, down, and up again. Fluid welled to the surface, glistening with rare light from the ink. His body shuddered in reaction to the potent mixture. Between the intriguing woman and the power of the spell, he nearly forgot to stop and murmur the sacred words Nareen had taught him. Holy spells she had said came directly from the gods and then channeled through his hands into the ink, flowing in steady streams until nested in the responsive human flesh. As the spell worked the familiar magic, a new sensation began pulsing through the instrument to his hand. Sorrow. Pain. This scar held memories that rocked the needle, pushing the fluid hard and hot into the reddened skin. He gave a quick glance at Cara’s face. Her breathing had quickened, but her eyes were squeezed shut. Good.


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He kept going, the ruined skin accepting the complex design in greedy gulps, as if in relieved welcome. Her shoulder freckles stood out in stark contrast to the black outline taking form across and around them. Each time he lifted the needle to refill the ink, the design sank deeper. Little did she know of the true content of the ink. Aedhan pushed away old guilt at his need for secrecy. He never failed to marvel at the seeds of life his own hands pressed into hibernation. Dragon blood and DNA nested together like twins with the human cells. This was Draca high magic—a bold experiment on chosen humans. Usually he felt no remorse at keeping the humans ignorant of his true intent. Success or failure hinged on the vital need for secrecy. No one could know of the powerful spell Nareen had taken such care to spin. Should humans find out about Nareen’s ultimate plan, everything would fall to ruin. So, by the gods, he would keep his vow. He had promised on his life to mind every rule, do everything Nareen and the spell required. He’d spent too many years larking about on Dracan, earning an indulgent, carefree reputation. The most remarkable chance to prove himself trustworthy to his kin had presented itself, and Aedhan did not intend to ruin his big opportunity. His determination had never wavered—until now. Cara’s sorrow rang like small bells each time he touched her flesh. The healing power of life innate in the ink met and matched each rise of her secret pain. Aedhan’s hands shook a little with the force of the ink’s lock onto Cara’s scar. What had caused this? Who had caused this? He flashed a look at her face again and saw a tear slide from one corner of her closed eye. He stopped for a second and lifted the needle. “Cara,” he said, careful to keep his voice soft, “are you all right?” She opened her eyes, the pale blue swimming with unshed tears. “Don’t stop,” she whispered, wiping her cheek. “Please. Finish this.”


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Instead he straightened and put down the ink gun. “Perhaps a short break is in order? I need to change needles anyway to add in the colors.” How long had he been at this? Aedhan focused more closely on his handiwork and realized he’d finished a very complex design faster than any other time he could remember. The scar itself seemed to urge him on, anxious to relieve the pain beneath. Cara nodded agreement and leaned her head back against the chair. Her face seemed so pale he wondered about continuing, yet the sense of the powers at work kept his hands moving. He snapped on the new needle and arranged the tiny cups of brilliant color. He gave her a few more minutes, finding things to clean up until she opened her eyes and gave him a shaky smile. “I’m ready if you are,” she said. “Good. Best part coming up.” He ducked his head and pressed the ink gun in place again. But not before a sense of outrage over what could have caused her scar and accompanying sorrow nearly stopped his hands again. Taranis and Alwen had sent her to him for more than ink and magic. Her skin rippled, alive under his gloved hands, speaking to him, needing, wanting…what? Aedhan pushed more power into his fingers, his mind whispering the spell with each stroke, cajoling the ink to sink deep and hold against the uneven skin. He completely lost track of time. When he’d glance up at Cara to check on her, her eyes remained closed. She held motionless no matter what he did, only wincing occasionally when he hit a particularly hard ridge. Aedhan rarely took more breaks than required to change needles. However, his clients usually wanted more. He offered to stop again several times, but Cara shook her head and urged him to continue. The look on her face said clearly to please just get it over with.


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When his hands started to tremble on the ink gun, he knew he’d been at it for hours. Almost done. An odd eagerness overtook him to witness the final product. He’d never felt so involved personally before. Finally he finished with a complex twist and paused, needle lifted, observing with satisfaction the colors sinking deep into her skin and even farther, into her very cells. Draca power stirred, and the matching DNA in his own veins sang bright approval. He had done well. Delicate, twining, circling vines and colors painted a brilliant web over her entire burn. No trace of ugly scar remained. The trails of vines ended at her elbow. He’d added a few extra because she’d seemed to need just a little more than usual. Even he admired the beauty of the design. This would help her more than she could possibly know. Pleased with his results, he gave her a smile, wanting to reassure her, and got a wobbly smile in return. “Here, take a look at the back.” He handed her a mirror and turned her around to face the larger mirror mounted on the wall. “Wow,” she murmured. “You really do great work. This looks fantastic. I never would have imagined—” Cara’s voice cracked. “You have no idea what you’ve done for me.” Aedhan’s guilt rose as he handed her a tissue. One look at her grateful eyes made him want to avoid her glance. He’d never felt so awkward afterward. Stick to the mission, he reminded himself. Do. Not. Get. Sidetracked. After he’d cleaned her up a bit and smoothed ointment over the new design, he covered it gently with some plastic wrap and tape for the ride home. He patted her shoulder as if to say, There now, all better. Cara stood, sniffling a little, and pulled her blouse in place and buttoned it up. They did the money exchange, and then Cara shrugged on her jacket and followed him back to the parlor.


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She held out her hand. “Thank you so much. You really are as good as my friend told me.” Aedhan took her small hand in his. The shape of her slender bones fit perfectly into his wide palm. A sense of outrage filled him at who or what had hurt her so badly. He wished he’d asked her more questions, but too late now. She had to go, and he had to let her. Rules were rules. “Good-bye, Cara. It was truly a delight to meet you.” Without thinking, he bent over her hand and brushed a brief kiss across her knuckles. Delicious. He made a mental note to find her again, as soon as Nareen released him from the mission obligations. “Thanks again, Aedhan.” He noted with relief that Cara’s face seemed noticeably brighter, and then she flashed him a shy smile that nearly took him to his knees. “See you.” She gave a wave and turned for the front door. He watched until her car disappeared from sight, conflicting emotions roiling inside him. Duty sent him back to the procedure room for cleanup. He arched his back, stretching his arms and rotating his shoulders as he walked. He’d just spent the last eight hours hunched over body parts. What good fortune the surprising end of the night’s spell involved such a completely tantalizing woman. He eyed the remains of the session and then set about tidying for the last time. His shoulder blades itched; his other nature urged him to shift and take wing as his Draca self. Leave the physical plane and soar over the brown waters of the Willamette River in his most primal, dragon form. Yet he had no issues with this particular rule. Dragons couldn’t be seen soaring above a modern human city. Even Portland, a place known for its acceptance of all things quirky and bizarre, would have a hard time integrating a real dragon, let alone a shape-shifter. “Hold on, my brother,” he spoke wordlessly to his other self. “I need rest. Later.” He had a sanctuary to fly in, but it took time to get there. Much too late now.


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He lifted his needle set, and something urged him to take a sniff. An unusual scent flooded his nose. He brought the tip, still soaked with ink and Cara’s fluids, to his tongue. A mini explosion of hot sensation rocked his mouth. Draca. Could it be? Oh, so subtle but definitely there. Not the DNA in the ink—he knew that signature taste. No, something very different. His cock hardened as a vision of damp red curls at the apex of shapely thighs flooded his mind. He dropped the ink gun and gripped the counter, head bowed. No wonder the gods had sent her here—if she carried a trace of ancient Draca DNA, sinking a tattoo into such a woman would serve to solidify her chances as a future mother of his race. His fingertips lengthened to claws, gouging into the steel table. Need coursed through him. Pain like fire lit his shoulders. “Help her,” the voice of his goddess whispered in his head as he struggled not to shift. “How?” When silence answered him, typical for these types of godly communications, his brother self whispered, “Did you not feel her sorrow?” Aedhan’s knees buckled. He could barely get through the rest of the cleanup before staggering to his private quarters and bed. Did he even get her last name? Nareen’s harsh recitation of the rule book ran through his head in practiced memory. She had gifted him with a mission on behalf of his race, partly to help him redeem his reputation. He winced thinking of his years of blithe irresponsibility, pranks, and foolishness, not to mention the past year of constant sexual capers unlike anything in recent memory. Due to the spectacular results of one of Nareen’s recent spells, the entire Dracan nation had been sexually re-awakened after two hundred years


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of eroding libido. He wasn’t the only sex-crazed Draca. Still, Nareen had good reason for her rules when it came to him. His arousal cooled. Right. No matter what, no involvement with women of this human word. He needed to earn the trust of his family. What had really happened tonight? Something big. A shift in powers and intention. Right? A growl of frustration roiled in his throat. Nothing quite made sense. He showered, letting hot, steamy water pound on his back while he puzzled over the twists and turns of the current situation. It held all the classic signs of Draca machinations. Contradictions. Secrets. Riddles. All natural as breathing to his kin. Shower over, Aedhan stretched out on his black satin-covered bed, groaning at the comfort. He’d earned his rest this night. A spark of anticipation about what tomorrow might bring laced his mind as he drifted near sleep. The Draca games were afoot. And, lucky for him, this time he got to be a player.


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Chapter Two Cara poured herself a cup of coffee. She rotated her shoulders, astonished at the lack of familiar pain. And why wasn’t she in more discomfort from the tattoo work itself? Her friends had all told her she’d be sore for a few days. She felt wonderful, though. Refreshed, with maybe her first good night’s sleep in three months. She twisted a look down at her tattoo. Wow. She could barely make out her scar inside the gorgeous Celtic design. Her chest felt lighter too, as if a weight had been lifted. All because of a tattoo? She shuffled over to the couch and plopped down for her usual morning wake-up routine. Aedhan had promised she’d enjoy herself. His confident statement had confused her, but now she wondered. Ragged bouts of painful memory had twinged each time he had put his needle against her, yet after a few seconds, the pain had faded, replaced by an almost imperceptible sense of lightness. She had fallen into a sort of hypnotic trance; her awareness filled with the gentle touch of his hands, then the sting of the needle, the curious, smoky scent that lingered in the room. Even her initial fear had eased until she actually lost track of time. In the end, the persistent sorrow that haunted her heart had nearly disappeared—a sensation she had marveled at, despite having little trust it would last. This morning she felt, in some strange way, renewed. Senses previously dulled with sorrow tingled in fresh awareness. Even her coffee tasted different—better. Richer. She finished her cup and stood up and stretched. Hell, yeah. She felt great. Not only that, she had the day off, and morning sun peeked through gray clouds, boding


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well for dragon boat practice. They’d been paddling on the Willamette in Portland winter rain for so long she’d almost forgotten how it felt to do team workouts in the sun. Her thoughts turned to Aedhan, which prompted immediate sexy tingles. Exactly her type—not the typical, classically handsome kind of guy, but vital and charming and somewhat eccentric, she could tell. And that orange hair! She’d never seen hair quite that shade, a sort of crazy tangerine. And those astonishing green eyes—eyes that had softened with compassion when she showed him her scar. Sheesh. She mentally shook herself, a little embarrassed over how emotional she’d gotten in front of him, and headed for the shower. She’d never see the guy again, so whatever. However, what an amazing tattoo. The mirror over the bathroom sink showed her the full view again. Quite astonishing. She grinned at herself in the glass. Yeah, felt pretty damn good to feel so damn good. She couldn’t wait to get out on the water.

**** Cara pulled hard on the paddles, groaning as she leaned back and swept the water. She glanced in secret approval at the toned line of her biceps. All that river rowing and consistent workouts had given her a confident new shape. Combined with the camaraderie of the team, it had helped a little to ease her sorrow, even if only briefly. Sadness still laced beneath everything, especially when she was alone, yet now even the worst of her depression seemed to have inexplicably lifted. The cool, early spring breeze blew across her overheated cheeks. Breathing deep, she raised her face and squinted at the clear, pale blue sky above. It seemed like another gift, sun instead of relentless drizzle. A perfect morning. She loved the smell of the river, the slapping sounds of water against the wooden sides of the boat, and the burn of her arms as she paddled. Eight women rowed


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together in the slim, Hong-Kong-style practice boat. Their paddles hit the water in synchronized rhythm, gliding smoothly in companionable concentration. Cara’s view drifted to the shore, and her paddle faltered as she caught sight of the watching man on the west side. “Hey!” her seatmate, Kelly, muttered as Cara’s fumble splashed water back into the boat. “Watch out, Cara!” “Sorry!” Embarrassed, Cara straightened up and regained the paddling rhythm, her attention riveted to the shore. Aedhan. His orange hair glowed in unmistakable color. Even bundled in a thick jacket and scarf, he stood out. He caught her eye and waved, a friendly grin lighting his face. An immediate zing zapped between her legs. She yanked her focus back to the boat and tried to keep up with the coach’s instructions. Then couldn’t help another peek. Oh, yeah. Still watching. Flustered, Cara struggled to stay in rhythm. Then a sudden burst of electric shock flashed through the handle and tingled along the palms of her hands. She stifled a cry and almost dropped the paddle. A second later a deep heat warmed her bottom. She felt as if a giant tongue had given her pussy one hot, wet lick. From the shore, Aedhan’s eyes seemed to glow. No. No way. As if she had spoken out loud, he nodded and waved. Impossible. How could he know what I just felt? She closed her eyes, trying to block out the sight of intense interest on Aedhan’s face. The next series of paddle strokes shot more heat directly between her legs. The inner seam of her jeans pressed against her clit, increasing the eruption of pleasure. Row and pull, row and pull—each stroke seemingly connected to the rising heat in her pussy. An erotic response to paddling? She’d never felt anything like this before.


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Struggling with her reactions, Cara bit back a moan as her hips undulated in an irrepressible rocking motion. Why did this feel like secret masturbating? She flashed an embarrassed look at her seatmate. Kelly rowed in quiet rhythm, her paddle making tiny splashes in the water, seeming unaware of anything unusual going on next to her. Cara dared a further peek around the boat, sure she’d find the entire team staring at her, yet the women acted completely normal. A strange bubble seemed to have fallen around her; the inexplicable hotness between her legs did not appear shared by the rest of the team. Down and back and down and back… She leaned forward, hiding her face while increasing arousal cradled her pussy. The skin of her hands sizzled with each thrust against the water. Her body—especially her pussy—seemed to flow as a sensuous unit with the river, the paddle acting as an improbable cock. Pull back, forward, back; yes, so good, so good… Mini volcanoes of sensation erupted over and over between her legs. So…flipping…good. The captain yelled out to increase the pace, and the paddling went full tilt, faster and faster, driving Cara’s phantom sex even wilder. The rapid movement through the river set the frenzy between her legs on veritable fire, reaching near climactic levels. Perfect. Hot. Stroke. Pulsing. Stroke, stroke, stroke, and then Cara went completely over, helpless to stop the tiny, potent explosion of a delirious, secret orgasm. Shocked, she choked back hysterical giggles and immediately looked around the boat, ready for sassy comments from the team, yet again no one said a thing. Or appeared to notice. They reached the shore minutes later, and Cara climbed out of the boat last, legs so shaky she could barely stand up. She avoided the gazes of her teammates. What on earth had happened out there? Cara waved Kelly and the others ahead. “Gotta check my equipment out,” she mumbled, stalling for time alone on the dock. She scanned the shore for Aedhan, and disappointment flared when she saw he had left. No way, no way kept running through her head. No connection between what happened on the boat and him, right?


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Despite her confusion, a strange conviction filled her. Something amazing had just gone down. Orgasm while paddling? Wow. Aedhan involved? How could that be possible? Feelings of aliveness flooding her body. Cara turned away from the shore with a little smile, noting the wetness of her panties as she walked up the hill to meet the others. Dragon boat practice would never be the same. She laughed out loud. Seemed like a long time since she’d felt this loose and relaxed. If that mysterious, gorgeous redhead had anything to do with her daring bout of orgasmic paddling—or hell, even if he didn’t—he was gonna get another visit. Oh, definitely.

**** Aedhan barely made it through the door of his shop; he just managed to slam it shut behind him before he yanked down the zipper, pushed his hand into his trousers, and grabbed for his painfully erect cock. He gave a moan of relief as he ruthlessly gripped his rigid member and stroked hard and fast. His mind streamed fevered images of Cara behind his closed eyes—her head thrown back, small gasps of pleasure erupting from her moist lips—full of pleasure that he had sent her in a forbidden spell. Oh, what a wicked spell of sweetness he never should have cast! But goddess, the exquisite results… He groaned as a freight train of arousal barreled up his spine and then pummeled through his cock until hot seed spurted over his pumping hand. Aedhan collapsed to his knees, breathing as hard as a teenage Dracling. While he caught his breath, his thoughts whirled, considering how this hot little scenario had come about. More than sheer luck had sent him on an exercise run to the riverfront. He had watched in astonishment as Cara climbed into a narrow boat with eight other women and paddled rapidly away from the dock. He inquired from another bystander what they were doing, and found out Cara was part of a dragon boat racing team. Of all things. He grinned at the confusing image. Dragons on a boat? What did that mean exactly?


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Taranis and Alwen, his capricious, game-playing gods, could be leveling some sort of secret joke on him—not for the first time, he thought ruefully. Or, as he suspected the other night, a Draca chess piece had just slid forward on the board. Surely they had sent him to the river for further contact with beautiful Cara. His brother self’s full approval still echoed in his head; the hums of pleasure that had erupted as Aedhan watched Cara orgasm near deafened him. Aedhan’s Draca self wanted to mate with Cara in the biggest way. Aedhan could barely think with the lusty demands in his head to go find her and mount her. Now. He had just broken Nareen’s express number one rule. No bespelling, fornicating, or messing in any way with the women of Earth. Not until he’d accomplished his mission. He grimaced with guilt at the knowledge that the little incident at the river definitely qualified as a rule breaker. He pushed his guilt aside and staggered to his feet. He wanted to see Cara again. No, he needed to see her again. No matter what his sister might think. Or do to him for his transgression. Flashes of those moments when he’d watched his spell unfold brought his cock to renewed arousal. Spell connected, he had known the instant Cara climaxed because he had damn near come right there on the waterfront right along with her. He headed toward his private rooms, stopping to pick up one of his sign-in sheets that had fallen to the parlor floor. Of course. Cara’s name, address, and phone number were neatly printed in the requested fields. He didn’t even remember giving it to her. He grinned. Clues placed right in front of him. Better and better. He could take a hint. Aedhan detoured to his office computer. Another chance to google. He typed in Cara’s name and then read in shock the results that turned up. Deadly explosion, huge fire, millions of dollars in damages. Tragic death of one Jackie Reardon. And near escape of Cara Miller, friend to Jackie. Dumbfounded, he read on until he realized the location of the destroyed warehouse.


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Baelon. Damn it to the ninth hell—the warehouse belonged to his exiled cousin. Aedhan groaned. No wonder. This reeked of sordid Draca machinations. Not surprising, since his cousin just happened to be involved. A full vote of the Council, a nearly unheard-of event, had exiled Baelon in disgrace from Dracan. After he chose Portland for his city of refuge, he’d started a porn film and adult video store business to support himself. His main warehouse, located in North Portland, functioned as storage for thousands of adult video DVDs and sex toys. The police theorized that Baelon’s competitors wanted to sabotage his business, obviously in a big way. Jackie had been an innocent, working as a bookkeeper in the office at the warehouse, when she got caught in some very bad timing. Who would want to destroy Baelon’s enterprise? Aedhan found the business repugnant, but he would never stoop to violence of that sort. And now Cara, Jackie’s friend, had made her way to Aedhan’s shop, injured physically and emotionally. Snap went the puzzle pieces in Aedhan’s head, an old, familiar Draca game. Move and countermove. Check. Aedhan made rapid-fire clicks on Web site links, enjoying the hunt. He found out Cara worked as a massage therapist when he pulled up a Web site called Chiropractic Care in Portland. He’d never heard of such a service. Rapt, he studied the photos, reading the descriptions. Massage appeared rather wonderful. They used phrases like “deep tissue” and “trigger points.” His cock stirred in interest. He drummed his fingers on the desktop. He had all afternoon to investigate these new developments. The shop didn’t open until five, since the later evening hours had proven the most conducive for channeling high magic. What to do first? A visit to Baelon’s studio certainly, where the filming of the human-style smut movies went on. They called it porn here. Baelon’s choice for making a living disgusted him—such a shameless pandering to the baser instincts of humans. And he avoided


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Baelon like the plague of ninth hells anyway. He didn’t want anything to do with a Draca male who had behaved badly enough to actually get himself exiled from Dracan. “Go,” his other nature encouraged him with unusual urgency. “Want Cara. Let’s fly—go now.” His resolve tightened when he thought of what Cara’s blood demonstrated in his brief but electric tasting. Only one test remained to confirm without any doubt the genetic remnant of Draca DNA. If Cara proved the same as Lydia, his brother Eremon’s new wife and recently discovered human Daughter of Draca, then Portland had just produced another precious Daughter. “Yes,” the voice under his skin hissed. “Get Cara.” His brother self continued his harangue. Not surprising. That would make things easier on him when Nareen’s fury erupted over his foolishness. She always did tend to respect the opinions of his Draca self more than his human side. He shoved away the old irritation at this thought and grabbed his car keys off the sideboard near the front door. Let’s go visit an exile, shall we, brother? The ripples under his skin signaled total agreement. Aedhan used his newly acquired driving skills to make his way to the Pearl District, not far from the dilapidated buildings of Old Town. Propelling a chunk of metal through human streets had at first been very strange. He longed to fly; driving seemed archaic and impossibly slow. Baelon’s film studio resided among swanky shops and vegan restaurants, taking up the entire third and fourth floors of a restored turn-of-the-last-century brick building. Aedhan didn’t know the details of Baelon’s transgressions. Only Dracan High Council members had that knowledge. He shuddered at the thought of Baelon’s sentence. No Draca with any sense would prefer to live outside the Draca community, subject to the unknown terrors of the modern human world. Aedhan, in his volunteer


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status, had the full protection of his community to support him. Baelon’s life in Portland carried no such privileges. The explosion must have made quite a dent in his sordid little enterprise, Aedhan thought as he parked the car. He strode to the steel door facing the street, determined to get some answers on the entire affair. Thoughts of Cara brought a riot of conflicting emotions. He should never have done that seduction spell. Now he really couldn’t get her out of his head. His brother self stirred in dual response. “Find Cara. Want Cara. Go Cara.” “Yeah, I hear you,” Aedhan muttered under his breath. “Not yet, though. Let’s get more answers.” No signs or address told him he had the right building, but for one of Draca blood, it was unmistakable. He found the solid metal door locked, of course. He ignored the buzzer next to a talk box and pressed his hand to the cool steel. A few soft words and the lock snapped open with a click. He couldn’t help a sly surge of satisfaction. Exactly as he expected— Draca magic kept the door locked; a simple key wouldn’t do. No problem. Baelon’s powers were no match for Aedhan’s growing skills, courtesy of the gods in payment for Aedhan’s recent services. Baelon hadn’t considered that his family might come calling. Aedhan climbed two flights of stairs until he reached a narrow landing at the top. Directly in front of him, another locked door led to a studio he could see through a large glass window. A huge bed took up much of one wall, and stands of camera lights with masses of electrical cords snaked around the room. On the other side, Baelon sprawled on a wide couch with a wine glass in his hand, frowning at a large TV screen set on an oak console in front of him. His long, dark red hair was tightly pulled back, showing the harsh, angular blades of his cheekbones. Weariness coated his face. He lowered his thick brows in a grimace of displeasure.


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Aedhan did his open sesame again to the door and walked soundlessly into the room. Baelon’s attention snapped from the screen to Aedhan. Only a twitch betrayed his shock. “Cousin,” he drawled, as he unwound himself from the sofa and stood with his arms crossed. “What the hell are you doing here?” Baelon’s casual movements didn’t fool Aedhan. He could see Baelon’s Draca self bristling, and by the sudden tightness under his skin, Aedhan knew his own dual nature responded in kind. Baelon’s eyes narrowed. “Explain what brings you here or get out.” The growl of a predator rang in warning. Aedhan snapped back his claws and tightened his jaw from shifting. He needed information, not a full-out Draca, testosterone-laden fight. He stalled, shooting a look at the screen where the images still rolled. With a shock, he recognized the actors. “What the hell…” He watched in growing horror. Emeil and Celina, two young Draca he knew very well, writhed together on the bed; Emeil’s cock moved like a piston in and out of Celina’s pussy. Both of them moaned. Clear images of green and purple dragon scales rippled down their arms and twisted across Emeil’s back while he enthusiastically fucked Celina. Clear as light—Draca scales, gleaming and impossible, so beautiful they eclipsed even Celina’s voluptuous breasts. These were forbidden acts. No humans could know of their existence. “What is this, Baelon?” he demanded. “What insanity are you involved in now?” “Tut-tut, cousin. Don’t disparage how I make my money in this gods-forsaken human city. This works. The humans eat it up, and they all think it’s special effects.” He paused and raised an eyebrow. “In fact, I’ve started a bit of a trend, if you must know, and adult film studios are scrambling all over to add new special-effect tricks to their dirty movies.”


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“How can you betray your kind like this? If anyone finds out this isn’t makebelieve—” Baelon cut him off. “Fuck you, Aedhan, and fuck my family. I’ve been exiled for something I didn’t even do, and now I’m making the best of it. I’m not responsible for the fact that the humans are dumb as Draca weed and can’t tell the difference between what is real and what is not. Besides, Emeil and Celina came to me of their own free will. Apparently they’ve gone a bit rogue. Youngsters.” Baelon gave a snort. “They seem to have no problem with my films, and I pay them well and everybody’s happy.” “You bastard. Don’t think for a minute I’m ignoring this. And I’m taking the details back to Nareen. Then we’ll see.” Baelon smirked and turned away. He walked across the room to a small table holding several bottles of wine and glasses. He poured more into his glass. “Too late. Nareen has known about this from the beginning.” Aedhan stiffened. Why would Nareen have agreed to such a serious breach of security? Surely Baelon lied. Wasn’t that what traitors did? And what were Celina and Emeil doing in Portland anyway? Gone rogue? He mentally stored that away for later investigation. “Does Nareen also know about the fire? About the young human woman who was found blown to bits by a bomb and the other woman who was injured?” Baelon tossed back his wine, not meeting Aedhan’s eyes. He moved to the equipment monitoring the action on the screen and turned it off. A sudden silence descended on the room, the only noise the faint sounds of cars three stories below. “Cut the bullshit, Aedhan. I know you didn’t come here just to harass me about what I do. Tell me what the hell you really want.” “It’s about the other girl who was hurt. There are a lot of questions unanswered, and I have an interest, shall we say, in getting the answers.” “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”


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“Yeah, like the investigation about who planted the bomb? A whole lot of nothing. Lots of theories and no suspects?” “How the fuck does this involve you? Why the sudden interest in my business?” “Who caused this mess? You must have some idea.” Baelon strode over to the door and threw it open. “I don’t fucking know. Now get out.” With an oath, Aedhan whipped past Baelon and slammed the door behind him. A new certainty filled him. He’d been given a second mission. He would discover who was responsible for the tragedy. Then end the threat Baelon posed to their sanctuary. After that, if all went according to plan, he would have his reward.


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Chapter Three Cara walked down the clinic hall to the front office and stopped in the small charting room behind the reception area. The last patient of the day was a few minutes late. She hadn’t checked the schedule list yet, although by the chart setup the patient was new. Maybe I’ll have a no-show, she thought, stretching her back while she waited, still a little sore from practice the day before. Images of a hot bath and a romance novel beckoned. She heard Helen greet someone in the front office. Cara startled at the familiar deep tones of the man’s response. “And your name is—” “Aedhan,” he said. “She knows me.” Oh no, oh God, oh God, he was here. In the office. She flashed a look at the schedule. Right there, in Helen’s neat script, it said “Aedhan.” No last name. “Hold on,” Helen said. “I’ll let her know you’re here.” Cara froze. Helen leaned her head around the doorway. “Your new patient is here,” she said, then mouthed OMG at her with a salacious grin. “Yeah, okay. Thanks,” Cara choked out. Heart racing, she peeked at the waiting room. She had wanted to see him again but not like this. Not as a client in her office! Aedhan emanated a kind of golden glow, suffused with the slightly mysterious yet cheerful mien she remembered. He illuminated the entire waiting room. Glorious orange hair hung loose over his wide shoulders. He wore a faded jean jacket stretched across his broad chest, with a blue T-shirt beneath. The bladed cheekbones could have given him a haughty air, yet the glint that shone from his unusual eyes said Trust me.


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Conflict clamored in Cara’s head. Attraction to a patient afforded an ethical dilemma. “Aedhan,” Cara greeted as she walked toward him with a clipboard, determined to be professional. She extended her hand. “What a surprise to see you again.” Oh yeah, understatement of the year. Aedhan grasped her hand, holding it firmly in his warm grip. “Hello, Cara,” he said, and then softly, “I’ve come to experience your services. I hope you don’t mind.” Cara’s cheeks burned. She yanked her hand away and turned, anxious to get out of the limelight. Her brain screamed at her to send him home, yet her mouth refused to obey. Cara led the way down the narrow clinic hallway. He walked slightly behind her, the carpet muting their footsteps through the quiet space. In a few short minutes, she’d be putting her hands all over his yummy musculature. She should stop this now. No, she shouldn’t. Cara tilted back a quick look and asked, “Have you had a massage before?” “Never.” “Well, okay then, here we are.” Cara pushed open the door and ushered him in. “Go ahead and fill out the paperwork, then change and, um, be sure to read the simple instructions about your preferences.” She cleared her throat, feeling more awkward by the second. She waited in the hallway, butterflies churning in her stomach. Usually she told first-time patients to disrobe to their own level of comfort. Self-consciousness kept her from her standard explanation, which waved another warning flag. Please don’t be totally naked, she thought.


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She heard his muffled “I’m ready” as her cue to enter and opened the door. Soft light from the bronze wall sconces lit everything in a golden hue, and harp and guitar music played low, adding to the relaxed and warm atmosphere. Aedhan lay facedown, his head cradled in the cushioned headrest and the sheet pulled to his bare waist. Right. Of course. Quite, quite nude. Cara took a few deep breaths and poured massage lotion into her hands. Might as well start the same way she usually did. “Do you like your feet rubbed?” “I am sure I do,” he said. “Then I’ll begin with the feet. It seems to relax people right away, especially if they’re new to massage.” “It sounds like heaven.” Cara smiled at his back, lifted up one large foot, and went to work. Big feet with a sheen of auburn hair across the top—strong, large feet… Tamping down the immediate erotic image, she squeezed his toes and then slid her oiled fingers up the muscled line of his long, thick legs. A soft forest of pale red hair covered his thighs. She dug into the tight muscles, and he groaned. Ignoring the tingly response between her legs at his noises, Cara continued her massage. After a while a sense of pleasurable lassitude came over her. How could she not notice his superb physical condition? Her trained hands practically purred while she rubbed him. He was a feast for every stimulated sensory nerve she had. Deciding to mostly skip his enticing rear end, she gave it a few cursory rubs and moved quickly to his lower back. Even so, she couldn’t repress a thrill as her hands grazed the firm, hot buttock muscles. Nice. Very, very nice. She breathed in the unusual smoky tang of his skin as she grooved into a rhythmic rubbing of his wide, muscled back. No freckles. Interesting. Not even one, unusual for redheads. She slid her fingers over skin so rough in places it felt like hide. He needed lotion in a big way.


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She pressed on the pump of the lotion bottle strapped to her waist. She couldn’t tell who she was trying to relax, him or her. As she smoothed the cool cream across his tough skin, he moaned in response. He groaned again as she massaged up his spine and then squeezed the tops of his bunched shoulder muscles. “Ohh,” he said, face muffled in the headrest. “Right there. That is good.” She wondered how he managed to build such a solid set of incredibly buff muscles. Must spend a lot of time in the gym or something because sitting in a chair all evening giving tattoos would not result in this kind of fitness. Heat built steadily in her hands. She had come to expect this warmth as she massaged, yet things seemed a bit…hotter than usual. As she squeezed and rubbed, her fingers tingled as if with tiny electric shocks. Then a wickedly familiar shock wave raced down her spine and pooled between her legs. Memories of her paddle sweeping the water and her crazed orgasm in the practice boat caused her to yank her hands up. She shook out her arms and rotated her shoulders. Wow, this guy really packed a wallop. “Cara?” his deep voice rumbled out of the face cradle. “I’m still here,” she said. “Just giving my hands a little breather.” As if drawn by an irresistible magnet, Cara went back to work, her fingers almost sighing in relief at the renewed touch. She worked her way down to his long, thick fingers, noticing how much rougher the skin seemed than the rest of his body. The tips of his fingers held jagged, broken nails as if he did a lot of manual labor. Maybe he had a skin condition? She dug into the tight muscles on either side of the neck, smiling a little as he twitched and groaned. Oh God, what a beautiful man. Her eyes, which had been half shut in pleasure, widened as a soft green iridescence began to follow under her fingers. Each stroking touch caused a miniature


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glow to rise from his skin like mist, and the faintest of patterns started to take form. Soft, identical, triangular shapes danced under her hands into rows. Rows of…scales? What? She blinked, thinking this must be a trick of soft lighting, yet an obvious, growing lacy web of green expanded like flowing water across his backside. “Aedhan? Why are you glowing?” Aedhan’s muscles, which had been loosening by the second, bunched in sudden tension under her hands. She bit her lip. No way. No way. The familiar refrain started in her head again. Almost afraid, she gave him a tentative shoulder squeeze, and relief flooded her when the illusion of scales faded. “Never mind. Sorry, I think it’s the new lighting we’ve had installed here.” Aedhan’s shoulders sank back to the table. Muffled sounds came from the face rest. “’S all right. Keep going. Good, really good.” She went back to work. Sweat dripped between her breasts, and she wanted to crank up the air conditioner, but didn’t, reluctant to move away from him for even a few seconds. She worked the tight trigger points of his neck and shoulders with rotating presses of her thumbs, enjoying the pleased noises emanating from the face cradle. Simple feedback like this helped massage therapists know they were on track. She smiled down at him; there was pleasure in giving pleasure, no doubt. Cara tried… She tried so hard to concentrate on the simple, familiar action of massage and to forget all the rest. Forget the erotic impulses firing between her legs, the lingering effects of her orgasm on the river, her sense of connection to this wildly compelling man. The minutes ticked away in a kind of time warp; the music on the CD had nearly come to an end. She knew with a kind of despair the session had long ago stopped being appropriate. She was so turned on. She squeezed her thighs together and picked up her pace.


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Time for him to go, before she threw herself on the table with him.

AEDHAN WANTED TO growl in pure, absolute pleasure. He would growl if it wouldn’t freak out the wonder of womanhood stroking him. Satisfaction filled him as he realized the sacred ink had worked the usual magic; the sorrow and pain she had carried so deeply when he first met her were noticeably lighter. Her soft, strong hands rubbed and worked his surprisingly tight muscles, calling out to his hidden pains and urging surrender to her healing touch. Her clever fingers found every place of discomfort and, like magic, soothed and coaxed body parts he never even thought about or noticed were attached. Her warm breath gently gusted on his surface skin as she leaned over his back, the pace of her breathing increasing as she sped up the rhythm and deepened the pressure of her hands. His cock seemed to harden in direct proportion to the whiff of her breath across his body. He hoped she wouldn’t ask him to turn over. The temptation to pull her down on top of him and his rock-hard cock could prove irresistible. And her smell. Draca. The enticement of her secret DNA wafted to his nose and surrounded his overblown senses. All he needed to do for the final test was taste her— in a very intimate, special way. Images of such tasting caused him to shift his position, the thickness of his cock painful against the table. He closed his eyes in bliss; his entire world became Cara’s hands—the smell of her breath, the pulse of blood beating just beneath the skin that stroked his own. He pressed his face to the headrest, struggling to mind his manners. “The rules,” he thought. “Behave yourself.” “No no no no no,” his brother self whispered. “Want Cara. Take her.” He needed to look at her. Aedhan rolled over, twisting the sheet around his waist, knowing his erection tented the material and not caring.


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Her red hair had come out of the hair tie, a few strands stuck to the sheen of moisture on her delightfully flushed cheeks. And gods, those freckles. Before he could think, he reached up and pulled her down to his mouth and pressed a heated kiss to her silky-soft lips. “Mmmpff…” Cara’s lips softened for a telltale second, and then she made a muffled protest and tore away. “Aedhan! Don’t do that.” “Ah, so sorry, sorry. I shouldn’t have…” he stammered, only a little repentant. “This…this kind of behavior is really wrong,” she said in a stern voice. Even so, there was no mistaking the heated interest in her bright red face, despite the scold. “You have no idea,” he said, wrapping his hands around her waist, asking permission with mute entreaty. Aedhan tugged at her, gently pulling her toward him. Sweet confusion spilled out of her gaze. When she didn’t resist, he leaned into her lips, his tongue drawn into the wet heat of her mouth.

THEIR TONGUES TANGLED in a heated rush. For Cara desire had become a freight train, and she longed to climb on and ride. Ethics and willpower shredded. He smelled wonderful, like chocolate woodsmoke. She breathed him in. Delicious. His erection throbbed against her belly. He rained hot kisses on her neck. Then he slid his tongue in a line back to her mouth. “Aedhan,” Cara gasped, coming to her senses a little when he started yanking down the sheet between them. “Wait…wait a minute.” He froze. “Stop?” “No, I mean yes. I mean, oh jeez. This is so wrong. How can I stop?” She kissed his firm, wide lips again, and he gripped her bottom with both hands, urging her hips up and down, pressing her to his cock. She thrust her pelvis in helpless response.


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He squeezed her breasts together and suckled her nipples through the material of her blouse. Cara moaned, her pussy weeping with moisture. Lost in pleasure, Cara barely registered the change when the room surrounding them faded away. She opened her eyes to a surreal scene. A rough, cavelike interior had replaced the pale beige walls of the massage room. Reddish rock surfaces surrounded them, and to her left lay an entrance to the outside where she caught a glimpse of an azure sky and a few drifting white clouds. In the distance, wild flying creatures with immense wings soared above rugged cliffs, dominating the sky. Dragons. Her breath caught in wonder. Aedhan continued to kiss her, tracing the lines of her cheek with his mouth, whispering soft, heated words in a language she didn’t recognize. He flicked his tongue into her ear, and she nearly climaxed at the sensation. He knew her favorite erotic spots as if they had done this before. More than once. Aedhan grasped her bottom and shifted his weight to the side, neatly flipping her to her back with him propped on his arms above her. Gritty sand pressed against her backside. She stared in speechless wonder at his face. His skin glowed with a hint of iridescent green as he met her gaze. Arousal gleamed from his eyes. He lowered himself so the whole of his muscular body settled on top of her, heavy and warm. Gazing over his broad back, she could see images of scales rippling down the length of his spine with the same greenish glow she’d witnessed during the massage. “Aedhan,” Cara gasped between wild kisses, “what is happening?” Aedhan raised his face, and something shifted. He gave a startled exclamation and ducked his head but not before she saw his eyes narrow and lengthen. The skin under her hands tensed and thickened.


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In seconds he changed to something…more. Soft, foreign growls issued from his throat. He started to rise off her. “No,” she said, tightening her arms around him. “I’m not afraid.” A sound in the distance pulled her attention to the beautiful flying creatures again. Wonderment filled her. Was she in a fantastic, waking dream? Cara closed her eyes and willed her mind to stillness, surrendering to the exquisite sensations erupting everywhere Aedhan touched. Images of dragons merged in a fairytale glow in her head. Images that only turned her on more. He slid down her body, kissing her belly and then farther. Her clothes had disappeared. “Hmmm…” When his wicked, clever tongue found her clit, she moaned, half crazy with lust. He licked and sucked her tiny nub as if he knew exactly how to stroke and pleasure her, as if he’d been caressing her most intimate places for years. His long tongue pushed inside her, and then his thick finger joined his tongue. She came against his mouth, her hips thrusting into his face. Tiny orgasmic aftershocks urged her not to stop. More. She wanted more. She tugged at Aedhan’s shoulders. “Now you,” she said. She reached between them and squeezed his rigid cock. “Cara…” he muttered, his voice ragged. “If you’re sure… Stop me now or…” She wrapped her legs around his hips, arching her pelvis, urging him in. He slid into her slick pussy with an electrifying pulse of satin flesh. She clutched at him, meeting him thrust for thrust. He stretched her, hot and hard and perfect, filling her pussy in the most delicious way. Fast. She wanted faster. Harder. He buried his face in her neck and went full tilt, his entire weight pressing her into the cool ground. Gravel under her bottom caused a pleasure-pain response that shocked and ignited her further.


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Following some deep instinct she didn’t question, Cara bit down on his wide shoulder, her teeth pressing into the hot, smoky flesh of him. “Aghghh…” Garbled sounds came out of Aedhan’s throat, and he turned into a veritable piston, thrusting at a dizzying pace. She cried out as an orgasm roared through her core. Aedhan joined her seconds later, the urgency of his trusts pushing his cock to her womb and flooding her with hot liquid. They were drunk—drunk on kisses and shuddering with simultaneous sparking aftereffects. Sweat covered them both as they held on tight to each other, soaked and sticky. A slight breeze blew across their overheated bodies, bringing some clarity to Cara’s blissed-out brain. Reality crashed in. Her eyes snapped open. Not in a cave. In the massage room. Their bodies tangled on the floor. She had no memory of getting from the table to the floor. What. Just. Happened? “Oh noooo,” she whispered, alarms ringing in her head. Then she saw the massage table listing to one side with a missing leg. “We broke the table! How did we do that? I don’t even remember.” She shot to her feet and stumbled with a fierce head rush. Aedhan jumped up and steadied her with his hands on her waist. “Easy, Cara. You’re okay. Everything is fine.” Rattled and self-conscious, Cara avoided Aedhan’s eyes and scooped up the sheets. She was naked, for God’s sake! How did that happen? Reality had shifted, and she barely knew what to do. “I can’t believe what we just did,” she choked. “Am I completely crazy?” Aedhan pulled her against his chest, the sheets balled up between them. “You are not crazy,” he whispered against her cheek. “Trust me.”


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Cara’s entire being wanted to stay cradled against Aedhan’s body and never let go. Yet the realization of what she had just done, in her place of work no less, forced her away from him. “Let’s get out of the office,” Cara said. “I have no idea how I’m going to explain the broken table. I’ll be right back.” She checked first for activity in the hallway, then fled for the laundry room. Thank goodness everyone had gone. She caught a glimpse of a clock—yikes! She’d been in there for over two hours. She could lose her job over this. She yanked on some scrubs she found on the shelf in the laundry room and hurriedly stuffed the sheets in the washer, started the cycle, and rushed back to the room. Aedhan had dressed and stood beside the massage table, made whole again with no sign of broken pieces. “You fixed it,” Cara said, relieved. “How did you do that?” “It was just a loose screw. I tightened everything. Should be fine now.” She should go. They should go. She had no idea what to say next. “Cara…” Aedhan moved closer and tilted up her chin. “You are a goddess,” he murmured. “I want nothing more than for us to continue what we have started here.” “There’s no way this will happen again.” “I know. That’s not what I mean.” Cara’s stomach tightened. “My life is extremely complicated right now. For a while I’ll be tied up in, er, family business matters and won’t have any time for anything else.” His voice trailed off, his green eyes pleading. No use pretending she didn’t care. Too late for that. “What are you saying exactly?”


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He sighed and dropped his hands, hiding his face while he stooped for his shoes, slipping on the black leather boots in silence. “This particular situation should continue for only a few more months, if the gods are willing.” He cleared his throat. “I’m in the middle of a rather complex family matter. I apologize that I cannot tell you more. It’s of a very confidential and delicate nature.” He came back over and softened the words with kisses. Cara put her face against his neck and breathed in the smoky smell of his skin. Family matter, huh. He’ll be back? Yeah, maybe. She was so screwed. Damn him. “I want you to know what happened here has never happened to me before,” she said. He needed to know this wasn’t business as usual. She forced her next words over a growing lump in her throat. “Maybe it’s best if we just forget about this. If anyone found out what I did here, I’d be fired for sure. So no need to feel any obligation whatsoever.” “Cara—” “Just…go, Aedhan. Call me or don’t call me. Whatever.” She couldn’t bear it. Why did it feel like a breakup? “Come on,” she called over her shoulder. “Let’s get out of here.” Clicking out the lights as she went, Cara ushered them out the office front door and turned to lock it with a decisive snap. She’d never, never do that again. Thank goodness there hadn’t been any witnesses to her massage room sexcapades. Her mind refused to process the more paranormal aspect of what had also gone on. The words to question him simply died in her throat. How could she say Are you magic? without sounding like an idiot? “Where’s your car?” Aedhan asked. “No car. I’m busing it. There’s a stop a couple of blocks down.” She kept her voice cool and turned from him as if to walk away. Maybe she should be running?


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He grabbed her arm. “You have a right to be upset with me. Please, I am not a total jerk. I promise you. I want to see you again. You cannot imagine how much.” What did he want from her then? She wanted to flee, go somewhere safe, and recover her wits. She lifted her eyes and met his glance. The knowledge of what they had just shared jumped between them. No way no way no way, the refrain ran in her head again. She hated the threatening tears. Aedhan’s extraordinary energy confused her with crazy mixed messages. “Well then, call me when your family business is done.” “Here,” Aedhan said and thrust a battered card into her hands. “This will be helpful in finding my shop again.” She turned it over and read the simple inscription: Old Town Tattoo Aedhan, Proprietor “Huh,” Cara said. “How do people find you with this card since there’s no address or phone number?” “Oh, that. Well, the truth is, they don’t exactly. I usually find them.” She stared at him. No sense at all, just like everything else. “Then why are you giving me this?” “So when the time comes, you will find me more easily.” “But I’ve already been to your shop. Why do I need a card?” “Do you remember having any difficulty getting there?” Right. No one could remember the address. She—and everyone else—had to go looking. “How’s this going to help? There’s almost no information on it.” “You’ll have to trust me.” Cara raised her eyebrows.


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He grinned at her, and she tried to resist his charm. No luck. A reluctant smile tugged at her lips. “I know I’m not giving you any good reason to believe me. But it’s the best I can do. Later there are things I want to share with you. I just can’t right now. Please, please believe me. I swear on my life we will see each other again.” Regret filled his extraordinary green eyes. He bent over her hand, lifted it to his mouth, and placed a soft kiss on her knuckles. Then he turned and strode off down the street with an easy, loping grace that ate up the sidewalk with deceptive speed. In seconds he was gone from view.

**** The week passed in a blur. Cara went through the motions at work, her head filled with thoughts of Aedhan and what had happened between them. She avoided the massage room they’d had sex in as much as possible, choosing other rooms when available. Her cheeks still burned at the memories. She had the day off Friday, and by the afternoon she couldn’t stand the suspense any longer. Despite her best intentions, Cara found herself at the computer, googling Aedhan and Old Town Tattoo. Again. She just couldn’t believe it. Same results— nothing. Not even the slightest buzz from her friends in Portland on Facebook. She knew for a fact that comments had been posted, but they never lasted more than minutes. Weird, so weird. She pulled out the tattered business card from her jeans pocket and looked at it again. No matter how hard she stared, she couldn’t figure it out. Old Town Tattoo. Oh, hell. The card was practically burning a hole in her jeans. For about the millionth time images of Aedhan’s muscular body, his heated kisses, his clever tongue, and everything else roiled through her head. Not to mention thoughts of dragons flying through the sky and skin that glowed with scales, crazy orgasms in the practice boat, and now her paranormal sexcapades in the office.


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She leaned her head back against the chair and drummed the card on the table. The same questions whirled around. Who was he—really? What about the mysterious family business? And what happened in the massage room…a trick of her eyes? The green scaly look of his skin…the complete abandonment of all propriety and ethics that literally landed her on the massage table with him? Then the vision of the cave, the— dragons? And the itchy sense that he’d had something to do with what happened in the practice boat? She had to talk to him again. She couldn’t wait for his secret business to wind up. She stood up from the computer table. She needed to stop mooning around the house and take some action. So what if he didn’t have “any time”? Her need to know far outweighed being polite and just waiting for him to show up in her life again. Right? She’d try to find the shop, following the same freaky directions. Cara locked up the house and got into the front seat of her car. She buckled her seat belt and glanced down at the business card she’d tossed in the passenger seat. She swore. The card was glowing. Really? Crazy. Yet as she drove the route she recalled, at one point she turned right and the card went dark. Following a hunch, she reversed direction and the card started glowing again. He’d said the card would make it easier to find him. Her heart started beating harder. True paranormality? She grinned at the term Ellen used for every unexplained event in the universe. A glowing business card that guided you? Yeah, paranormality, all right. She stored the thought away into the growing pile of unexplained things and kept going. Cara rounded a corner on a street that seemed familiar and then slammed on the brakes. Yes! She backed up the car and swerved right and down the narrow alley she’d almost passed. She pulled into the gravel parking area and turned off the car. Her heart pounded so hard she could practically see it beating through her blouse.


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After stepping gingerly up the creaky stairs of the silent business, she tried the brass doorknob. It turned, and the door opened smoothly into the dim parlor. No lights on inside. Then she noticed the broken front window. Weird, she thought. A frisson of fear gripped her stomach. Something seemed off. “Hello? Aedhan?” She waited a minute before pushing the door open farther and peeking cautiously around the edge. “Aedhan? Are you there?” Peering inside, she started at a series of thumps that seemed to come from beneath the floor. She noticed a misarranged rug in the narrow hallway across the room. More noise came from that direction. She crossed the parlor toward the noise and saw an open trapdoor cut into the hardwood surface near the rug. Louder and louder bangs and thumps echoed up through the opening. “Aedhan?” Cara leaned over the opening and stared doubtfully at the steep metal stairs leading down to somewhere dark underground. Then the wood planks beneath her feet started shaking, and something like the sound of a jet engine roared from below. The next second the floor of the parlor splintered with a huge crash, and Cara lost her footing and fell, landing on her bad shoulder. She cried out in pain and shock as much of the remainder of the surface came completely apart and a huge, winged creature burst out of the shattered wood, another such creature hot on its trail, roaring in deafening fury. Dragons. With no room for such creatures in the dainty parlor, their wings slammed into the walls, sweeping the furniture and snapping the old wood like matchsticks. Razor fangs snapped and bit at each other’s necks, causing blood to drip on long green muzzles. Their thick tails hit and shattered every window in the place. Impossible. Cara’s panicked cries stopped the fight, and two giant lizardlike creatures regarded her with narrow, burning green eyes. Cara froze, clutching her


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injured arm. Pungent clouds of gray smoke circled the room. Scaled, reptilian tails snaked and rippled all around her. The larger, darker of the two turned away from her, broke through the remains of the front wall and then lifted wide, leatherlike wings and took off with blinding speed. The sounds of giant wings filled the evening sky. The remaining creature crouched low over enormous rear haunches like a monstrous house cat. His serpentine tail swished the length of the room, destroying the last of the furniture. Darting a desperate glance around, she calculated the fastest way out. “Stay there. Just…just stay away from me!” she shouted. Ferocious intelligence gleamed from the creature’s narrowed green eyes. Why did those eyes look familiar? Seconds later the creature literally imploded in a silent, smoky burst. The dragon creature disappeared, and in its place a naked, heaving Aedhan sprawled on the shattered floor. Pieces of the weirdness puzzle snapped together, and finally understanding rocketed to her lagging brain. Shape-shifter. A freaking for-real shape-shifter. Not only that, more than one. Here. In Portland. Okaaay. Time to go. Cara leaped over huge cracks in the floor and scrambled toward the broken front window. She had just about made it out when strong arms grabbed her legs and yanked her back. “No!” she screamed. “Help!” “Cara, stop. Wait, it’s okay. I swear.” Then he cursed out a grunt as Cara kicked behind her and eluded his grasp. She scrambled for the opening again, but he managed to get hold of her ankles and tackled her to the splintered floor, bringing them both down hard.


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The breath knocked out of her, she couldn’t move for a few frozen seconds, during which she realized he was naked—on top of her. “Get off me!” she cried. Yet she couldn’t deny the thrill of feeling Aedhan’s muscular naked body, even as he nearly crushed the last of her breath right out of her. Aedhan managed to flip her over to her back, remaining solidly planted above her. She opened her mouth to scream, but he thrust his hand over her face so she only produced muffled yells. He captured her hands with one of his own, flattening them above her head with unbelievable strength. He effectively pinned her to the floor. He glared at her. He was mad? “What are you doing here?” he hissed in furious tones. She couldn’t answer with his hand still across her mouth. She kicked her legs in renewed struggle and then realized something else. Not only naked—very, very aroused. She dared a look at him, and his eyes turned hot with something besides anger. She tried to resist how her treacherous body thrilled in response. She felt every inch of his hardening cock and his heavy, muscled, nude body weighing her down, his breath as ragged as hers. Her hands burned where he had an iron grip, and her face heated in humiliated arousal. She bucked and twisted, trying to loosen his hold. “By the gods, woman!” he gasped. “You should never have come here.” He moved his hand away and slammed his mouth down on hers. She forgot about being held prisoner on the parlor floor. Monster or man—the roaring in her ears and flames between her legs said whichever—didn’t matter. Exactly as before. Nothing mattered except the taste of his mouth; the burn of his hands wrapped around her breasts. She moaned under the heat of his lips as he moved lower, suckling her aching nipples through the thin shirt. He brought one hand to her waist and tugged at the zipper of her jeans. She came to her senses in a shocking rush. Wait—no! Not again!


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She heaved him off. He didn’t try to resist, rolling to the side as she stumbled to her feet. “Please,” he said. “Please…don’t totally freak out. Give me a chance to explain.” She struggled to pull her clothes back together. She felt like her brain was going to explode. “You could have explained this to me before, don’t you think?” Not that she would have believed him. But still, he could have tried, right? He sat up. “You’re the one who showed up unannounced.” “Yeah—but look what you didn’t tell me!” Understatement of the year. Aedhan gave a deep sigh and heaved himself to his feet. He picked his way with care over the splintered floor and broken glass to a small cupboard that had survived dragon meltdown, and pulled out a pair of worn jeans. “I told you it was complicated. I never intended… You caught me—” “Yeah, I caught you, all right. What are you? And what were you doing fighting with that other…that other…whatever you are? And look at your shop—totally wrecked.” “I’m not supposed to tell you anything. You never should have seen any of this.” “Yeah, and you probably never should have…never should have seduced me either.” Cara surprised herself with her own spunkiness. Somehow she had lost the desire to run. “You’ve got that right.” Aedhan yanked on his jeans, giving her a dark look. “This is a mess.” “I’ve seen the impossible, and it’s not like I can pretend I didn’t. So, dragon boy—if that’s what you are—why don’t you tell me more? Unless, ah—you’re not going to kill me now, are you?” The thought stopped her cold. “There are consequences for having this knowledge.” “What? Really? Oh, you’re kidding.”


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“No, I am not going to kill you.” He frowned at her. “But secrets of this magnitude are not given lightly.” Aedhan’s eyes gleamed, the lids hooded. Cara’s stomach took a turn at the image this gave her. Dragon. Shifter. Predator. For real. Her knees gave out. She sank down to the only area of unbroken floor that remained and leaned back against the wall. “I want to know more. I’m going to trust that you won’t hurt me. Maybe I shouldn’t. I’m probably crazy, and maybe this is all a dream anyway.” He looked stricken. His hair was a tangled orange mess, and he pushed it back with an agitated swipe, regarding Cara in silence. Finally he simply nodded and slid down to join her on the floor.


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Chapter Four Aedhan’s cock stayed hard as a tree trunk, his increasingly erotic responses to Cara a torment. Not helping matters was his fierce need to shift and catch up with Baelon, that arrogant son of the devil of the ninth hell. When he found Baelon, he’d rip him to shreds for breaking into the shop. Baelon had not only violated Nareen’s spell, he’d attempted to steal the sacred ink. Aedhan struggled to keep low growls from his throat. He should have realized Baelon would come snooping. “What about all this?” Cara waved her hands at the room that looked as if a tornado had hit. “What are you going to tell the police?” Cara’s words brought him back to himself. “Not a problem. At least for now.” Aedhan said a few phrases in Dracish under his breath, waved his hand in a power pattern, and suddenly an illusion of the house appeared as unbroken and whole. “Dracan magic,” Aedhan explained when he saw Cara’s incredulous face. “We needed to have ways to protect ourselves from discovery. It’s not really fixed, but anyone who looks right now won’t know that. How I’m going to actually deal with this mess…” He gave a deep sigh and didn’t finish the sentence. “Wow,” Cara breathed. “Magic. I never thought… I can’t freaking believe this is happening.” He blew out a breath, avoiding Cara’s eyes. Her luscious body and intoxicating scent were driving him out of his mind. How could any Draca alive resist such a woman? His brother self had scolded him in relentless hissed reproaches ever since Baelon had fled the scene. His brother would kill Baelon now, then find Cara and claim her as his mate. “Aedhan?” Cara’s worried voice broke through his anger. “What’s going on?”


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Aedhan unclenched the fists he had pressed into the floor. The surface beneath them gave an ominous creak. “Sorry,” he said. He had no idea how to begin, how to explain. What could he say and not say? Nareen’s rules played in his head, yet none of them seemed to exactly apply. His gut churned. She had witnessed not only one, but two of them shifted in Draca form. The most crucial secret of his kind, revealed. She knew what he was. Or at least what he could do. Strange Dracan games, these. Everything might totally implode, right down on his luckless head, if it hadn’t already. “Cara…this is so difficult to explain.” “Try me.” “You are only the second human in many hundreds of years who knows about us.” She had no reason to trust him. Could he trust her? “Trust her, yes,” his brother whispered. “She is one of us. You know this.” His brother’s surety gave him courage to continue. “We live in a sanctuary—one invisible to this human reality. The humans had hunted us to near extinction, and we were desperate. My sister, Nareen—the most powerful of our kind—cast a great spell and literally shifted our entire world to an alternate space. Within our sanctuary we are protected and safe from humans.” “Are you—you know—like, the dragons in our fairy tales?” He sensed her fear and moved closer, until his hip grazed her side. Cara flashed him a dazed look but didn’t move away. Encouraged, he continued. “Hmm, well, as far as what I’ve been told about human children’s stories, we are not those dragons exactly, although we planted many such imaginary tales among the humans over the generations to cover up our real existence. As the years went on, people forgot dragons had ever been real and accepted the stories as ‘fairy tales,’ as you put it, just as we had planned.”


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“Wow,” Cara murmured. “Are you old? I mean, do you live for a long time, more than humans?” “In human terms we do. There are tales of ancient Draca who lived for a thousand years or more.” “So why are you here now? What the heck are you doing in a tattoo shop in Portland of all places?” Cara’s lips turned up. He loved that even in the midst of the destroyed shop and everything he was admitting, somehow she still could smile. What a woman. He dragged his attention away from her lips. Explaining the tattoo shop meant giving her half-truths, something he wanted to avoid to begin with. Too late now. “And what about that other dragon?” Cara continued her barrage of questions. “My God, Aedhan! You two were fighting. You practically destroyed the shop. What’s going on here? How many of you are there, anyway?” Aedhan’s head fell back against the wall. He closed his eyes for a second in a kind of despair. So much he couldn’t tell her, explain to her. At least not yet. He looked at her anxious face and took a deep breath. Explaining the cause of his fight with Baelon could possibly expose the true intent of the tattoo shop. Baelon’s involvement in the bomb disaster and Aedhan’s decision to find the criminals who blew up the warehouse felt like another potential land mine. No matter how he tried to explain, all roads led back to the secrets of Dracan ink. He’d have to do his best to reassure her without giving away crucial Dracan secrets. “There are only two of us here,” he lied. No way could he reveal the young Draclings working for Baelon. “We had a sort of…disagreement, I guess you could say. I’m sorry. This is another family matter I cannot really discuss with you any further.” Aedhan searched her eyes, silently pleading for understanding. “What I can tell you is last year my sister found a woman living in Portland who is a carrier of an ancient Dracan bloodline.”


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“Incredible! A human woman who is also part dragon? Is that why you’re here— looking for more of them?” So right and yet so wrong. He hadn’t even thought of this as a potential explanation. Relieved, he jumped at her conclusion. “That’s right. The tattoo shop enables me to determine if the blood of the chosen human has traces of Dracan DNA. The ink left over on the tattoo needles tells me everything I need to know.” Aedhan squirmed at the memory of tasting her blood. And then later, in the massage room, the other more intimate fluids that had coated his tongue and revealed so much. How was he going to break that little piece of news? “Oh. You mean for—wait a minute. What do you want exactly with these women?” Cara narrowed her eyes at him. “We do not have the slightest inclination to hurt anyone, if that’s what you’re worried about. Our race has great need to replenish the gene pool, or we really will die out as a species. We’ve had some problems with the, er, solutions we’ve tried. If we can find willing human women who are enough of a match for our own DNA, well… We are half human, after all.” And that’s about as much as he wanted to say on the subject. The story of what had happened with his brother’s new wife—human Daughter of Draca, Lydia— couldn’t be revealed. Not like this. Not without express permission from Nareen. “How does this work? Do they cooperate willingly?” Cara moved away from him and faced him with a stern look. “You don’t kidnap them, do you?” “To be clear, there is no them. There has only been one. Her name is Lydia, and believe me when I tell you she is happily married to my brother, Eremon. And pregnant.” Her eyes widened. “Can she fly?” “No, no flying.” Aedhan smiled. “Nothing like that.”


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“Oh.” Cara’s facial expressions changed every few seconds. He watched her in fascination. “I’ve always thought how great it would be to fly. I used to have flying dreams all the time when I was a kid.” “You did?” Aedhan smoothed her hair from her face, his pulse jumping. A hot idea occurred to him about where to take this. “Enough questions for now.” He stood and held out his hand. “Come on,” he said. “I can show you something I think you’ll enjoy very much. This could answer many things for you.”

ICY CHILLS FOLLOWED by heat laced up and down Cara’s spine as she listened to Aedhan’s fantastic story. Was he telling her the full truth? She doubted him, doubted his incredible explanation despite what she had witnessed with her own eyes. Yet…incredible as everything seemed, she had to know more. Cara took his hand and let him lift her up. “Ufff.” She winced, her shoulder throbbing and her entire body stiff. “I am so sore,” she said, a little out of breath. “Nothing like running from dragons to wear a girl out.” She gave a laugh. “Better laugh than scream, I guess.” Aedhan met her smile with his own. Her chest expanded, inexplicably lighter. The cheerful reassurance she remembered shone from his extraordinary eyes. “You are amazing,” he said, pulling her closer. She let herself lean into him, and he wrapped warm arms around her. His body enfolded hers like a cocoon, and a sense of relief filled her. His muscular chest rose and fell beneath her cheeks. His heart pounded in her ear, his skin damp and smoky. She drew back and looked at him. “You know, you’re smoky with a hint of chocolate.” She sniffed appreciatively. “It’s so good it makes me want to eat you up.” Aedhan laughed and kissed the top of her head. “Like I said. You are amazing. How can you joke?”


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“No clue,” Cara said. “I must be crazy, really. And I have a feeling you’re about to give me more reasons to think that way. Sooo…why don’t you show me that thing I might enjoy? I could use some ‘enjoy’ right about now.” Aedhan made a muffled noise and bent his head down to kiss her. The kisses deepened, his tongue a blaze in her mouth. He nudged her backward until she was pressed to the only wall that hadn’t been splintered. Cara melted into his embrace, welcoming how the cool wood against her back contrasted with the hot dragon man at her front. He slid the shoulder of her tank top down, kissing his way along her neck and moving lower, freeing one hand to squeeze her breast, and then bringing his lips back to hers for more intoxicating kisses. Cara’s breathing grew ragged, spikes of desire sparking between her legs. More than before she was conscious of the sheer strength of him, the honed muscles gripping her so tightly. Images of scales and wings and claws flared in her mind and, incredibly, only made her burn hotter. Cara leaned into the full length of him, her hands gripped to the sculpted expanse of his back. He overwhelmed her; his body was so much larger and dominating she thrilled in fear and heated pleasure both. His thick thighs pressed her to the wall, his breath hoarse and yet sweet in her ears. She moaned as his tongue danced in wicked heat; he lapped at her mouth, sucking on her bottom lip, making her knees weak. She started to slide down but stopped when Aedhan made a sound of protest. “No, not yet. Stay like this. I want to feel you this way,” he said, his voice ragged. He nudged her legs apart, wedging his hips between them. Cara went on her toes to angle her pelvis so his huge erection nested against her mons, and began rocking in an unmistakable rhythm. He squeezed her rear and then slid his hands to the backs of her legs and lifted her as if to actually fuck her as Cara wrapped her ankles around his waist. They laughed a little breathlessly when Aedhan shifted his stance and backed her into the wall again with a dull thud. He reclaimed her mouth, and more images


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exploded—dragons in a cloudless sky, roars of fire and passion that seemed to echo in her ears… Magic. Aedhan reached between them, fumbling for her zipper, and growled in frustration when he tugged to no avail. He let her slide back to her feet, and knowing what he wanted, Cara pushed his fingers out of the way and unzipped her pants for him, wiggling to send them down her hips. Then for good measure, she whipped off her blouse and flung it across the room. More. She wanted more, and he was about to deliver.

AEDHAN’S PREDATOR NATURE, so close to the surface, roared approval. He knelt, pushed aside her damp panties, and planted his mouth on her beautiful pussy. Cara’s hips bucked under his hands. She thrust her pelvis against his lips and gripped his hair, tugging him in even closer. Thick and salty yet sweet as honey on his tongue, her essence was simply the most intoxicating cream he had ever tasted. He wanted to bury his face in it and live there. He wanted to lick and drink every inch of her body. Daughter of Draca. Cara’s fluids of life swam with Dracan DNA. He had known from the first taste of her sweet pussy, and now the knowledge rocked him all over again. The last test and his girl had passed with flying colors. His prize, his desire, was here between his fevered hands and under his thrusting tongue. His cock thickened, wanting entrance; his other nature demanded immediate, total possession. Cara’s release filled his mouth, her cries sweet and long in the silence of the shop. He knelt for a few more moments, his arms around her hips and his wet face pressed against her soft belly. He wanted to tell her everything, show her everything, give her his world. Still on his knees, he looked up, and she smiled down at him. He smiled back at the beautiful sight of her—soft hands tangled in his hair and cheeks bright pink,


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coloring her freckles in the most delightful way. She sighed and said, “I can barely stand up,” and made another move to slide down with him on the floor. His arms tightened convulsively, stopping her yet again. Instead he rose, shoving down his jeans with one hand, and then pushed her back to the wall, leaning his weight against her warm, yielding body. Gripping her round bottom, he lifted her to him, thrilling at her little cries, and guided his aching cock into the welcoming hot folds of her wet pussy. Now, with the taste of her on his tongue, he would have her. His brother’s triumphant growls filled his head. The silky muscles of her vagina gripped him, and intoxicating pleasure suffused his entire being. He kissed her as if he were drowning, each thrust of his hips causing the wood behind her naked back to creak in protest. The nipples of her breasts slid against his chest like hot, fleshy bullets. Cara’s whispered “Yes, oh yes, oh yes” sounded like music in his ears—a low, heated accompaniment to the beating rhythm of their bodies. He squeezed her bottom, his hands full of delightfully plump ass, and she made a happy squeaking sound when his fingers tightened. Aedhan shifted her up again, catching a better grip, and the wall behind them cracked in protest, prompting muffled laughter against their joined lips. Unexpected joy filled him at the delightful sense of fun this woman inspired. He’d never felt anything like it. His cock hardened even more, urgency building, and all coherent thoughts fled. Only her. Only Cara and her welcoming, intoxicating self… Then, before he could stop himself, his climax seared up his spine, and the roar of pleasure of his dual nature was another note of music—a symphony that left him so weak at the knees he became the one who could barely stand. “Oh my God, Aedhan.” Cara laughed weakly, gazing up at Aedhan under her eyelashes. She flashed him such a sexy, shy smile he came close to throwing her on the floor and ravishing her all over again.


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He kissed her, more gently this time, giving them a few moments for their breathing to ease, for skin to cool down, for tender explorations of hands and mouths. “Was this what you wanted to show me?” Cara asked after a while, breaking into the blissful silence. “Well,” Aedhan said, “no, not exactly what I had in mind.” He grinned at her. “However, if you have time and inclination, I would be most happy to demonstrate what I meant.” The idea she’d given him with her talk of flying seemed like the perfect thing to do next. “Think you can handle a little more excitement?”


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Chapter Five Two hours later Cara found herself high in the Cascade Mountain foothills of Mount Hood—a dormant volcano, complete with glaciers, waterfalls, and miles of unsullied wilderness. The mountain towered over western Oregon. Aedhan drove fast, his hands sure and expert on the wheel. She wondered at the shuttered look on his face. Worrying about what he might be thinking prompted a return of her anxiety. As if he heard her, he flashed a reassuring grin. “Ready for a different kind of ride?” “What do you mean?” Aedhan had refused to tell her where they were going, making everything seem like a game. Going to surprise her with something even more amazing? Aedhan pulled into a gravel patch of road to the right and eased the car to a stop. “A ride in the sky. On me—in my other form.” Ride? “Oh, right. How does that work? What do you do, sprout wings right here on the road, snatch me up, and carry me off?” “Something like that,” he said, turned the car off, and reached for his seat belt. “Whoa—hold on. Really?” Excitement churned in her stomach. “You’re not serious?” “It’s the perfect chance. We’re up here in protected lands, alone.” Old-growth fir and pine, thick and green on the rugged slopes, surrounded them. Only forest sounds filtered through the shadows—small birds and the distant keening of a hawk.


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“You’ll just…turn into a dragon? Right here—right now?” Aedhan winced when she said dragon. “Not exactly dragon. Remember, we are not those fairy-tale creatures. We belong to our own race. We are Draca.” This seemed an important distinction. Cara filed the tidbit away to think about later, along with all the other incredible stuff she’d been learning. He reached across the seat and urged her closer. Cara melted at his gentle touch and sniffed at the smoky, tangy smell that filled the car. He fired up her imagination, her willingness to believe the strange and unbelievable. Reading her thoughts perfectly, Aedhan said, “I know you crave excitement; don’t try to deny it. You are more like me than you realize.” He leaned over and gave her a brief but thorough kiss. “Let’s go.” Then he opened the car door and stepped out into the sun. Cara got out and came around the car to join him, and he took her hand. “Check this out,” he said and led them across a small meadow toward the drop-off edge of a tall cliff. From the high viewpoint, as far as the eye could see, miles and miles of swaying treetops soared across the rugged peaks and valleys below. No telephone poles or roads. No housing developments. A fitful wind had picked up, blowing loose rocks in little clatters around the cliffsides. Aedhan threw his head back and let out an exuberant yell in some language she didn’t recognize. He spread his arms wide and turned in a slow circle until he came round in front of her. A huge grin lit up his handsome face, and the breeze seemed to respond to his joy, gusting his tangerine hair loose from its band. “We are safe in this place. This is sacred space, created to be the link between Earth and the Draca sanctuary. Here the magic hides my shape-shifter self. I am free.” He let out another yell, grabbed Cara, and spun her around, making her breathless with giggles. “You have no idea how much this means to me. I’m ready. Are you ready?” Was she?


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Without waiting for an answer, he transformed. Smoke and sparkles lit the space where he stood. She held her breath as a familiar and massive reptilian creature appeared in the midst of the brilliant light. Narrow emerald green eyes glinted at her with the same warmth as human Aedhan. “Oh jeez,” she gulped. “I can’t believe this is happening.” Aedhan’s Draca form crouched before her in obvious submission. Even she, a slightly freaked-out human, sensed this creature meant her no harm. His sapphire blue and emerald green scales shone thick and bright in the pale June sun. He was heart-stoppingly beautiful—a glorious winged fairy-tale creature. No matter what he said about the old fairy tales, he looked just like the dragons in the stories. Beautiful, powerful, and wise. Not a monster. Okay, then. She blew out her breath. Take a ride, really? Aedhan-Draca rolled to one side and gave her a sidelong glance. Taking the hint, she inched forward. “So I’m like…supposed to just climb on up there?” Cara gazed up the enormous line of Aedhan’s body and had a feeling she was in for the ride of her life. The immense bulk of him hunched low over taloned feet, his gigantic wings folded against his sides. He rolled again in invitation. “Here, climb up here.” Cara heard the thought as if spoken out loud. She could do this. Cara edged close enough to touch and put one palm on his side. Hot, fleshy scales pulsed with energy beneath her hand. She slid her fingertips along the thick edges of the diamond shapes to the haunch of one crouching leg. Heat poured off him, and smoke circled the meadow. The forest had gone silent; even the wind seemed to quiet.


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A second of appreciation for her newly toned self flashed through her head as she reached up and grabbed hold behind his muscular right back leg. Aedhan grunted when she gripped him and began to climb. Ripples rolled beneath his scales, and after a minute she caught on that this actually helped her get up. Bit by bit she surfed the small waves of convulsions. She tried not to dig her sneakers into his sides too hard, and before long she neared the top of his spinal crest. When she got far enough to swing one leg over, she slung herself astride and gave a little whoop. Just like a cowgirl. She settled her bottom a few inches behind the wings. Heat sizzled through her thin cotton pants. She gripped his bony spine and tried to center her balance, and dared to look over the side. Waaaaay far up. He shifted his body, causing Cara to slide a little and nearly lose her grip. “Aedhan, wait!” she shouted. “Take it easy. Don’t move yet, okay? I’m trying to get settled here.” She looked around for handholds. “How’s a girl supposed to hold on, anyway?” He shifted his body weight forward, causing her to grab on to the closest jutting ridge. She held on with both arms, the edges of the thick scales pressing her chest in a strangely pleasurable way. She squeezed her eyes shut for a second, took a deep breath, and prepared for liftoff. He reared up to full extension, and his wings unfolded in a series of startling cracks. They loomed out on either side like giant boned tarps. The great wings began a slow downbeat, creating a strong wind as they rose in a graceful sweep. The body between her legs bunched and rippled and then made a massive leap straight off the cliff. Cara screamed as they fell until they caught the wind and soared straight upward. She gripped the ridges of his back, her knuckles white. When she didn’t fall off, she realized she was balanced. Perfectly, impeccably balanced. The thick muscles of his hide worked and contracted beneath her, hundreds of subtle adjustments that kept her


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upright. Her hair and clothes blew in the cool wind as he flew them into the clouds, surrounding them in a cloak of wet grayness. All sound seemed muffled; only the rhythmic noise of his hoarse breath and the huff of gigantic wings penetrated the fog. She relaxed her grip a little and tried to catch her breath. Then he dived and they broke through the clouds to the breathtaking sight of the Mount Hood wilderness—miles and miles of green and blue lakes and snow-covered mountains. Aedhan soared and dipped and put them into a glide with friendly currents that sent them into effortless flying. “Yeaaah!” Cara threw back her head and howled. Now she understood Aedhan’s yells. “Yeaaah!” Aedhan responded to her excitement by making little swoops with his wings each time she shouted out her amazement. She learned fast when to lean and when to hold on tight. She began to recognize the telltale signs of imminent angle changes or new dives and readied her grip in anticipation. Her bottom grew hotter and hotter sitting on his scaly flesh. Heat and joy rose up her middle and expanded into her chest until she felt inexplicable tears on her cheeks. They flew for what seemed like hours until Aedhan aimed down toward a green meadow next to a small lake. Slowing his approach in the manner of an airplane, he glided into a smooth descent and hit the ground in a few powerful steps. With immense grace, he lowered his great body to the soft wildflowers of the meadow. Cara tumbled bonelessly down his side, laughing when she tried to stand and failed. Dizzy, she lay on her back and looked up at her Draca huffing above her and giving her what could only be a Draca grin. The high afternoon sun blazed, but nothing felt hotter than the look in her Draca’s eyes. He moved his great bulk partly over her, pinning her in place. She grinned at him, fearless now, still laughing and out of breath. “What a ride, you fantastic beast! Can we do it again?”


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In response he nudged her blouse with his big head, and his long red tongue edged out and, with an extraordinary soft touch, laid a delicate Draca lick on her neck. Shock—and something hot and liquid in her core—kept her motionless. A cascade of warring emotions shifted through every cell of her body—erotic tension coupled with a sense of taboo she didn’t even want to acknowledge. She looked down his underside and caught a glimpse of the biggest penis she had ever seen. Draca cock—huge, like a small tree trunk, and obviously very, very aroused. Smoke circled the meadow in gray clouds. Tension coiled in her middle. His tongue continued its outrageous exploration, moving lower. He huffed softly at the waist of her pants. Arousal thundered between them in unspoken need and compelling urges whispered commands she couldn’t resist. She wiggled her hips and pushed down her jeans with trembling hands, then kicked her pants off and spread her legs. His thick, fleshy tongue flicked out and lapped at her pussy, giving her slick, heated licks that left her near shuddering orgasm at every pass. She arched her back when he found the nub of her clit and licked her harder to the point where she could feel the tips of his fangs on her most delicate flesh. He shoved the length of his tongue deeper into her pussy and then in rapid rhythm withdrew to focus on her clit and back again. She gripped the scales of his head between her legs, the edges of hard green diamond shapes pressing into her knees. The sense of taboo and strangeness and desire rolled like a hot ball through her center. Her legs fell open, and she thrust her hips against his tongue; she wanted to fuck him now now now. One orgasm after another rippled through her belly, and she thought she heard herself screaming. Aedhan shifted in a rush of cracking, snapping noises, and his creature disappeared in a burst of smoky light. He dropped on the ground beside her and pulled her tightly against his naked body. Desire blazed in heated arcs between them.


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Aedhan yanked her blouse open, buttons flying, and feasted on her aching nipples, one after the other, scraping his teeth along the sensitive nubs, suckling both nipples at once. He moved his mouth to her shoulder and traced the ragged lines of her burn with his tongue, kissing and nibbling and licking until the scar and the tattoo that covered it vibrated with a subtle sense of healing. He lifted his face for her mouth again, and she tasted her own salty skin, mixed with an exotic residue from the ink. “Nice tattoo,” he murmured against her neck. “The artist—one of the best,” Cara gasped, surprised she could still talk. Her shoulder sang happiness; her entire body seemed to float inches off the forest floor, and lightness replaced the last traces of sorrow. She reached between them and grasped his cock, squeezing the silky hardness, arching her hips closer, rubbing the pulsing head of him against her dripping cleft. “Now,” she whispered. No more words. He lifted over her, pushed her legs apart, and slid his cock deep into her wet pussy. Cara threw her legs around his muscled backside, squeezing the tight contours of his ass. She clutched him tightly between her thighs, arching to meet him. She loved the urgent thrust of his cock when they stood braced against the wall, but this…something else entirely. The fit of him inside her was so perfect—he knew exactly when to bear down, how to angle his thrusts just so. He slid along every secret erotic button, lighting tiny fires as he went. How could he know her so well? He seemed to understand every nuance of her desires—matching her, burn for burn. Sweat pooled between them. Aedhan’s chest slid against her breasts, slick and wet. Even like this Cara couldn’t get close enough. His weight on her body seemed like nothing; she strained so that every inch of her touched him. His cock seemed to swell even harder, and he thrust in such exquisite rhythm Cara’s need to orgasm built in rapid waves until she splintered, and they went over together, hot bursts of semen flooding her, spilling out, soaking the ground beneath them.


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He collapsed on top of her, and she clutched him, her face against his broad, sweating shoulder. Aedhan rolled to his side, taking her with him, murmuring soft words against her cheeks in his silvery, exotic language. He leaned back to look at her, his eyes warm, lingering heat in his touch as he smoothed her hair out of her face. “We should be in my bed, not here on the dirt.” He moved as if to get up. “I don’t care,” Cara said. “This is good. Ground is good.” She tugged him back down, reluctant to end the spell. She didn’t want to start thinking about things again. Feeling, wanting…anything more beyond this moment. “Hmmm.” Aedhan gave a small lick to her ear, causing renewed tingling between her legs. “Well, it’s true that my brother self prefers the ground. He thinks I am most clever to take you in the open, where he likes it best.” “Well then, maybe we should please him even more.” Cara wiggled her bottom so Aedhan’s erection jutted against her stomach. He had never lost his hardness, despite the evidence that he had come in rather spectacular fashion. Aedhan leaned up on one elbow and looked at her with such tenderness her heart clenched. He brushed more wet strands of hair off her cheeks and laid tiny kisses all over her face. “You are the most delicious, incredible woman I have ever known,” he said, his voice soft and the foreign inflection she’d noticed before more pronounced. “Your deliciousness is actually something more than… I mean, I need to explain—about certain…”Aedhan’s voice cracked, and then Cara stopped him from going any further by pulling him down for more kisses. “Somehow I find myself more interested in other things right now,” she murmured, and that silenced conversation for quite some time. “I can hardly believe you let me touch you like that,” Aedhan whispered against her cheek much later.


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Cara didn’t have to ask what he meant. “Me either,” she said. “Who knew I was so twisted?” “Twisted?” “You know—perverted?” “Perverted?” “Well, maybe this isn’t something taboo in your culture, but let me tell you, what happened today is not something I’m gonna be sharing with my girlfriends.” “I would hope not.” Aedhan pulled back, looking alarmed. “All of this is secret. Extremely secret. I can trust you, right?” Soft breezes caressed her bare skin. She grinned at Aedhan, impossibly happy. “Yes. You can trust me.” Aedhan searched her eyes until he visibly relaxed. “Good,” he said and then stood up, held his hand out, and Cara grabbed on and joined him in the upright position. She tilted a little to the side and giggled. “Ooh, a bit dizzy. Goodness, whatever have we been doing?” Aedhan found her jeans a few feet away and handed them to her. He held up the ruins of her blouse. “Should I apologize?” “No. It was a Goodwill find anyway.” “Goodwill?” “Thrift store.” “Thrift store? I believe there are many things in human culture I don’t understand yet.” Cara pulled on the wreck of her top. “The point is, no worries about my blouse. I think explanations about thrift stores can wait.” “Look over there,” Aedhan said and pointed. She followed his direction and saw a tiny cabin on the hill to the east. “Is that yours?”


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He nodded as he zipped up his pants. “I’ve stocked it with food. And definitely a bed.” He gave her a suggestive grin, which she answered with her own. “Well, in that case…” Aedhan slung an arm over her shoulders and led her in the direction of the cabin. Sexual tension cycled in heated currents between them, making it hard to breathe normally. The feel of his fleshy Draca tongue on her most secret female places seemed burned into her. Maybe she should feel horrified or revolted. Not. Instead, she was so turned on she could barely walk. After a short climb, they reached the small, dilapidated log cabin. Aedhan explained that Dracan spell wards protected the cabin from human eyes. “It is my sanctuary here on Earth,” Aedhan said. “A place of rest after flying. It was a gift from Nareen in return for my services.” The cabin held only two rooms: a simple bath and a larger area with a tiny kitchen, a worn-looking couch, and in the corner a massive bed. Cara raised her eyebrows at Aedhan. “Nice bed. Not quite as rustic as the rest of the things here.” “I’m glad you approve.” The king-size bed had a heavy, oak four-poster frame. Dark purple bedcovers and thick pillows encased in deep red silk blanketed the luxurious-looking mattress. Cara sauntered over to the bed and sat on the edge. “Talk first?” Aedhan gave her a slightly wicked grin. Instead of answering, he pressed her gently down to the soft surface, holding himself above her on his arms. “Wait a minute,” she protested. “Didn’t you say you had more to explain to me? Shouldn’t we do that first and kiss later?” “I suppose,” he said, kissing her neck. “You’re just so hard to resist. How can I be sensible when you’re lying here looking so gorgeous?”


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Cara pushed him off and sat up. “Okay, you’re right. Let’s sit up while we talk. Prone positions can come later.” Aedhan sighed and moved up the bed, setting the pillows behind him, and tugged her over so they could cuddle while sitting up against the headboard. “So…there’s more you should know about the Draca. And about yourself in particular,” Aedhan said. “What do you mean?” “I suspected this the first time I met you, and now I am completely sure.” “What?” Cara’s voice rose in beginning alarm. “Just tell me. Quit stalling.” His arm tightened around her shoulder. “You have Draca in you. You are one we searched for, a true Daughter of Draca.” Her heart pounded at his words. Draca! My blood is Draca. “Oh my God! Really? How do you know?” “I can taste you. I tasted you on the tattoo needles, and then all I had to do was taste your more intimate fluids.” Her head reeling, Cara said, “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Aedhan sighed and looked a little guilty. “Secrecy among the Draca runs deep. You already know more than any human alive, except for Lydia, of course.” Part Draca. Incredible. Cara’s breath caught in her throat. “Can I shape-shift like you and fly?” The thought electrified her. “Same as for Lydia, love. I told you before, no shifting, no wings.” He leaned over and kissed her. “Can we stop talking now?” “Wait a minute. Don’t distract me.” She gave him a little shove. “I’m still processing.” Her thoughts did furious cartwheels. “What does this mean, really? Here I am, the woman you’ve supposedly been searching for. Do I get an invitation to your sanctuary?” “Well, I would say that is very likely.”


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“Wow. I can’t believe this.” She felt a grin split her face. “I’m part dragon!” Aedhan groaned and flopped on his back. “Please don’t use that term anywhere near a member of my family.” He looked entirely too seductive, all laid out like that on such a welcoming bed. Cara couldn’t help herself; she leaned down and gave him a kiss and let him kiss her some more. And after that her brain fogged, unable to resist the exquisite sensory responses his mouth elicited. She reached between them and pulled the zipper down on his pants. His cock sprang out, thick and engorged, and her mouth watered. Before he could react, she bent and encircled the fleshy head. Spicy, smoky rum coated her tongue. Was this what she tasted like when he licked her? Thick veins pulsed against her lips as she sucked her way to the base of his cock and then back up. Her pussy clenched as she swallowed Aedhan’s irresistible taste. One of her hands fondled his balls and the other squeezed the bottom of his shaft. He bucked, grabbing her hair and urging her to a faster rhythm. Yet even as she wanted more than anything to lose herself completely in sensation, even now, with his splendid cock in her mouth, her body shuddered in reaction to his incredible news. Despite her sexual delirium, the sheer improbability of events woke up every suspicious instinct. What else? Why did she think he had left something out? She tried to push her thoughts away and concentrated on sucking the tender head of his cock. I am like him. The whispers of confusion and longing she had endured for years all made woozy sense. Cara closed her eyes and relished the heat circling between them. Still, tendrils of worry laced through strange feelings of guilt. Shape-shifter— animal and man, all mixed up together. She shouldn’t want such a creature, but God help her, she wanted them both. His primal creature self aroused her in a way she’d never dreamed of. And no wonder. In her own way, she was part animal too.


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Crouching over him on her knees, she gazed up the impressive length of his body, admiring his broad chest with the nest of wiry orange hairs across his muscular pecs, the bulge of his biceps, the sharply bladed cheekbones of his face. She sucked his cock while she squeezed him with one hand and slid her other over the buff ridges of his abdomen. She ran her fingers across the warm, damp skin and let herself get lost in the wonder of his taste. His hands held the sides of her head, and then his hips nearly lifted off the bed, shoving his length as far down her throat as it would go. She returned both hands to his cock and squeezed and suckled him until he shouted her name and shot a hot blast of silky cream into her mouth. Fantastic. He tasted so good a girl could become addicted. Cara swallowed and lifted her head, enjoying the blissful look on his face. He opened his eyes; the desire in them near scalded her. He urged her to turn over and then adjusted himself behind, lifting her hips with one hand and finding his way to her slick center. His cock remained hard, as if he hadn’t just come. Mounting me like an animal. As soon as that thought speared her mind, Cara found herself in the grip of another waking dream. Draca. Draca soaring against the cloudless skies. Aedhan, in his creature’s predator form, loomed over her, his Draca penis hard and pulsing. Cara’s hands, moving in a dream she had no control of, slid to the apex of her legs. “Look,” a voice whispered. “See what you are.” Golden edges of scales cascaded down her arms. Her entire body thickened, crusted. Wings wrenched out of her sides. Flames came from her open mouth; her head fell back in a kind of soundless scream. Cara came to consciousness being rocked in Aedhan’s arms. Tears she didn’t understand ran down her face, sizzling like hot drops on a heated stove. Aedhan crooned to her, his voice soft and reassuring. “Everything’s all right, love. You’re okay. You’re here with me.”


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Cara wiped her eyes, trying to make sense out of what just happened. “One minute we were making love, and the next…” She looked up at Aedhan. “It’s the same kind of thing that happened to me when we were in the massage room.” That memory brought a tremulous smile. “You remember what happened there, don’t you?” “Yes.” Aedhan smiled and pulled damp strands of hair off her face. “I’ll never forget it.” Then his voice got more serious. “You had a vision, didn’t you?” “Yeah, I think so. I…I was Draca, Aedhan. With scales and fire and, well…” Her voice trailed off. She suddenly felt self-conscious about the erotic nature of the vision. “I just feel… I mean, I don’t know how I feel. This connection with you, who you are, who you say you are… It’s overwhelming. Know what I mean?” Aedhan looked troubled. “I know this must all seem so crazy.” He trailed his hand over her shoulder, tracing the line of her tattoo, and then slid his palm down her arm. “Did I tell you how much I love your freckles?” Cara gave a weak laugh. “Oh, right, just change the subject, why don’t you?” Aedhan’s long finger followed a group of freckles on her forearm. “Look at that— you even make pretty patterns. See this group? Looks like a fluffy cloud.” He bent and kissed the spot he indicated. “And see here? Like a beautiful flower.” He moved his hands lower, followed by his tongue. Sparks began erupting under his clever fingers, and heat coiled in Cara’s middle. She closed her eyes and let herself relax under the sweetness of his touch. She sensed a new sort of tenderness, a gentleness that carried something deeper. When his mouth found hers again, she forced the last of her worry to a tiny place in the back of her head and met his lips with eagerness.

**** When Cara opened her eyes the next morning, she found herself on the floor, tangled in bedsheets dangling half off the bed. Aedhan lay facedown, his arm and leg spread across her. The dim early light cast a soft shadow on his sleeping face.


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She took a moment for some silent inspection. She smoothed one hand down his arm and muffled a sound of surprise when a pattern of scales followed the trail of her fingers—exactly like what had happened when she gave him the memorable massage. She followed the ripple of green diamond shapes under her hand, and something inside stilled. Who was this creature, really? This improbable shape-shifter, plundering her body, mind, and heart? What had she done? Unbidden, her anxiety about the entire situation came roaring back. She pulled away and took a good look at him. No denying it, he looked positively otherworldly. The pale, gold-tinged skin, the crazy orange hair, the high cheekbones under eyes that slanted ever so slightly. Not like any man she’d ever known. Cold reality pierced her erotic haze. She thought of Aedhan’s Draca tongue licking between her legs, and a feeling of near panic sluiced through her. What had she gotten herself into? She’d been lost in crazy, mind-blowing lust, and now, all alone with him in this completely isolated cabin… Something urged caution, whispered danger. The need to get home and clear her head seemed overwhelming. She lifted his arm off her chest with care, trying not to wake him. He groaned as she extricated herself from his embrace and got to her feet. “Where are you going, my beauty?” Aedhan mumbled. “Come back here.” Cara looked down at him with a stab of regret. He sprawled on the floor like a giant naked god, his thick orange hair tangled around his gorgeous face, his cock still wet and half-erect. “Cara? What’s wrong?” Emotions roiled through her. She fought the urge to sink back into his sexy warmth. He had aroused such need, yet she didn’t like feeling so out of control, despite the hot look in his green eyes. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”


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She turned to the bed and started a fumbling search for her clothes. “Like what?” she said. She heard the shuffle as he got to his feet and then came behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her stiff form against him. “Tell me,” he whispered against her hair. He tugged her around to face him and lifted her chin with one gentle finger. “You can trust me,” he said. His gaze probed hers. Cara ducked away without answering, trying not to breathe in his extraordinary smell. Giving up on finding her own clothes, she searched out sweatpants and a sweater in his closet and rapidly dressed. Aedhan frowned at her. “You are unhappy. Did I not please you?” “No, I mean, yes. You are incredible. Last night was…well. It was the most amazing night of my life. But I need to get home now, and just…think about the things you told me. You know, the whole I-am-part-Draca and all the rest.” “Ah,” he said and then stopped. “I understand.” Cara turned away with a stab of guilt at the look of worry on his face. “Good. Okay, well, so let me go home now and have a chance to process. You’re not off the hook yet, Aedhan, so don’t go thinking I’m done asking questions.” When he indicated they would fly together again back to the car, Cara balked. “Do we really have to? Can’t we just hike back?” Fear rose. She didn’t want to lose herself again in another waking dream or do anything remotely paranormal. She wanted normal normal. Walking. Biking. Hiking. Anything but flying on a dragon right now. “Do you really want to hike, oh, about eighty miles?” When he put it that way, Cara reluctantly agreed. So he took them on another soaring flight back to his car through the brilliant skies. If anything, this only made her feel worse, the sense that she was existing in an alternate reality chillingly clear. They drove back to Portland without a word between them.


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Chapter Six When Aedhan dropped off Cara at her apartment, he let her go even though every instinct screamed at him not to let her out of his sight. She kissed him good-bye in the car, her lips cool. Aedhan’s heart clenched at the closed look on her face, but he didn’t push her. She had said she wanted some space, and he reluctantly understood, although letting her leave him with so much unsettled between them made him feel more than a little crazy. He had promised he’d see her by the weekend, and she agreed, which did little to console him. Aedhan watched her until she turned at the front door and waved. He nearly leaped out of the car and then caught himself. He had to drag his attention back to the business at hand. He had the tattoo shop to tend, criminals to track down, and a sister to duck and avoid if at all possible. The drive back to the shop felt surreal. Events seemed to be rolling faster than he could entirely integrate. Even though he’d discovered a Daughter of Draca, guilt still beat at Aedhan. How was he going to keep more secrets from Cara? How to explain himself to Nareen? He drove without noticing his surroundings until he coasted to a stop in front of the shop. A hiss of warning and displeasure shook his attention back to the present. Aedhan’s brother self growled, fighting to shift, and as soon as Aedhan saw the person sitting on the steps he knew why. Baelon. What in nine hells? He flung open the car door and strode to the steps. He glared down at Baelon, his hands clenched in fists. “Some nerve, cousin. As you’ve demonstrated so clearly, you really are a criminal.”


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Baelon glanced up, shielding his eyes from the sun’s glare with his hand. “There’s a human saying that I believe applies here, which is ‘take a chill pill’ and have a seat.” He patted the step next to him. Aedhan stared at him in disbelief. “You can’t be serious.” “I am completely serious. Let’s chat. Oh, and by the way, take a look around. See anything different?” Aedhan flashed a glance at the perimeter of the shop. Huge relief washed over him. The entire shop had been meticulously repaired. No illusion this time. Baelon had actually fixed things. It was as if nothing had happened. Now he wouldn’t have to explain the destruction to Nareen. He didn’t bother thanking Baelon. Why should he, when Baelon’s attempt to steal had caused the destruction in the first place? “How the hell did you manage to do that? Even you never had those powers.” Baelon sniffed. “What do you know about powers, you irresponsible Dracling? Last I remember, you were doing your best to spend eternity avoiding any responsibility to the clan. And your lessons.” Aedhan didn’t answer. Damn Baelon for reminding him he’d been one of Aedhan’s teachers during his younger, rather rebellious Dracling years. As if he needed reminding. Baelon had been a bastard to him then, and Aedhan had never trusted or liked him. He still didn’t. When Baelon didn’t rise or offer any threat, Aedhan took a seat at the top of the porch in a statement of power. This way Baelon sat a few steps down from him. Baelon rolled his eyes but refrained from comment as Aedhan got settled. “I know what you’re doing here in Portland,” Baelon said. Aedhan sprang to his feet again, all the hairs on the back of his neck rising. “Take another chill pill. Look, I had to know what you were up to. You weren’t about to invite me in, so I had to figure it out myself. Let’s just say it was selfpreservation. Besides, I have no interest in the current Dracan games. I saw the ink, the


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setup you’ve got going here, and once I knew this involved one of Nareen’s schemes, I consulted my sources. Yes, some of our kin still speak to me.” Aedhan snorted. “Fuck you,” Baelon said. “Whatever. I don’t care, really. I never could keep up with Nareen and her constant games. The point is, I’m here to propose we work together on this warehouse deal. Figure out who the assholes are that are trying to bring down my business and take care of them Draca-style. Do you get my meaning?” “You mean as partners? Really, have you been smoking that special human herb?” Baelon gave a bark of laughter. “Not so bad, that stuff. You should try it. Takes the edge off living so close to humans.” He gave a shudder. “You have no idea.” Aedhan’s mind whirled. He wanted justice for Cara and Jackie, and Baelon wanted to catch the bad guys. In a bizarre way, he saw the logic. Even if the end results helped Baelon’s dirty business. But he’d deal with that problem later. Restless, Aedhan paced in front of the porch. “No trust,” his brother hissed. “No trust. Shift. Fight.” Aedhan felt the same suspicion. Draca were famous for plots inside plots. Yet what would Baelon have to gain here by lying to him? For now, he’d play along and see how this went. “Do you have any leads beyond what the police have turned up?” Baelon grimaced. “Not really. Except…there’s this group of crazies that have been picketing in front of my studios the last few weeks. They hardly seem like the type to blow up entire buildings. More like fanatic Bible-thumpers trying to rid the world of smut.” Baelon gave a derisive laugh. “Like that would ever happen.” Aedhan’s brother self wanted to have it out old-style. Finish what they had started when he’d found Baelon in the storage chambers below the shop. Aedhan’s fingertips lengthened to claws despite his efforts to resist the urge. Baelon stood, his eyebrows raised in question. “What’s it to be?” he asked, his Draca nature clearly bristling, ready to fight if that was what Aedhan chose.


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Aedhan growled low in his throat while he thought this bizarre proposal over. Tempting, he had to admit. Dracan justice would prove swift and terrible, should it come to that. And Baelon was perhaps the perfect partner to ladle on the hurt. Much easier than either one of them working directly with human police forces and all their unwanted questions. With a sense of reluctant inevitability, Aedhan said, “Partners. For now. But once we have justice, we are going to have another conversation about Emeil and Celina.” “I am taking every precaution so your precious humans think those lovely scales are nothing but special effects. I told you that already.” The disdain in Baelon’s voice caused Aedhan to immediately regret his acceptance of partnering with such a slime Draca. “Besides, any conversation about them will have to include Nareen. Remember, she’s fully aware of the exciting developments in my business,” Baelon finished with an irritating smirk. Aedhan wanted to pursue this issue further, but he just didn’t have the energy for another confrontation. He was already sick of this asshole, partners or not. “Go away. I’ll meet you at your condo tomorrow, and we’ll talk details.” Aedhan needed to pull his act together for the evening customers. No forgetting his main duty in the midst of the growing drama. He turned his back on Baelon and headed for the porch. Baelon drove off in a squeal of gravel. Asshole. His brother agreed, the tension under Aedhan’s skin tightening to the point of pain. As Aedhan entered the shop, thoughts and visions of Cara filtered through despite his intentions to focus. The gods had, in the most improbable way, sent him his mate. They had made sure he’d meet a potential mother of his race, sending a true Daughter of Draca to his shop for a tattoo. Doubling the chance of success, he guessed. Goddess, he wanted her. All of her. Over and over.


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Would Nareen let him share the full truth with Cara? He shuddered, thinking of the coming confrontation with his sister. Blast it, Nareen had to realize the involvement of Taranis and Alwen. Surely the signs of godly interference were way too obvious to miss. He swore as he pulled open the trapdoor to the underground storage. How did he get himself into these messes?

**** Cara stumbled through her work on Monday, barely able to focus. Her inner thigh muscles were still so sore she limped around the office. Sheesh, more than her thigh muscles hurt. All kinds of delicious aches and pains twinged in new and unusual places. Fevered images of Aedhan shifting to his dragon form, and then what happened afterward, laced her thoughts constantly. She missed him already. How could she get through the week without hearing from him? He didn’t use cell phones and had demanded she promise not to visit the shop. He said he had to take care of business or risk a chance he’d be sent back to the Draca sanctuary. He promised more answers later. She wasn’t comforted by the thought that she had pushed him away to begin with. Wanted some space to sort out her head. Yeah, right. Easier said than done. She’d missed dragon boat practice and had worried her teammates. Ellen had left six messages. Normally, she shared everything with Ellen. However, this did not include the current incredible events. Aedhan hinted at dire consequences. Not for her but for him. So she tried to keep her mouth shut about the truth and made up small lies about having the flu to tell her friends. Cara escorted her patient back to the massage room and closed the door to wait for her to get ready. She did feel a little nauseated, actually. All the excitement roiled around in her stomach in a big, jumpy mass. Maybe enough to take a few real sick days and get her head together. Two hours later Cara rode the bus home. She’d managed to cancel her appointments until Thursday. That would give her two days to get more grounded in her new reality.


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She took a long, hot shower, letting the water pound on her sore lower back and shoulders. Toweling off, she gazed at her image in the foggy bathroom mirror. A smile tipped her lips as she remembered Aedhan kissing every freckle he could find. He loved her freckles. She sighed. What a man. What a dragon. Man-dragon. Her mandragon. Not only that, she, Cara Miller, just happened to be part dragon. Or rather, part Draca. Hard not to consider Aedhan a dragon, despite all his objections to the term. Thoughts of his tongue in her pussy, lapping and sucking, shot instant tingles between her legs. The sense of panic she’d experienced in the cabin had only been fleeting. Instead her state of turn-on buzzed in a near constant reminder of Aedhan. So Aedhan could taste the evidence of her DNA in her feminine fluids, as he’d put it. This led to further images of his Draca tongue doing that hot-as-blazes licking. Cara groaned out loud. Saturday seemed like a really long time away, and she found herself counting down the actual hours. She wanted his kisses big-time, but she also wanted more explanations. About everything. Dressed, she padded barefoot into the living room. She started at the sudden crash from the back of her apartment and half ran to investigate. Horrified, she saw her sliding glass patio door in shattered pieces and a strange man with his face covered in a black mask coming toward her. She screamed in panic and turned to run, but he jumped her, catching her off-balance, and they both tumbled to the floor. “Abomination!” he cried. “Consorting with the unclean!” He pressed a rough cloth against her face. “You will burn for your sins!” Cara fought against his hold, kicking and twisting, gagging on the smell coming from the cloth. He jerked her roughly to her feet, holding her from behind with one arm while he kept the towel over her face. A woozy feeling made her head spin—he must be drugging her with something in the cloth. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, her protests muffled. Her knees gave out, and she sank against his hold. “Not so fast,” he snarled and lifted the cloth long enough to slap a piece of duct tape over her mouth. He finished with wrapping a thick rope around her, her arms


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tightly bound at her sides. She started to black out as he slung her helpless body over his shoulder. When she heard the front door opening, she strained to stay conscious and managed to lift her neck up and cast a desperate look around for neighbors. It was broad daylight for chrissakes! Where were the neighbors when you needed them? He popped open the trunk of his car and, with a grunt, dropped her in. No! Her shrieks muffled by the tape, she watched in despair as the trunk lid closed over her. Shit shit shit!

**** Aedhan jerked his head up at the alarms ringing in his mind. “Ow!” his customer exclaimed as the needle slipped. “What are you doing back there?” Feelings of danger and distress filled his head. Cara! Cara is in trouble. “Sorry, so sorry,” he said. “Listen, something’s come up. I need to go.” He pulled away the ink gun and started cleaning up. “Hey, wait—you’re not done yet!” “Don’t worry. Come back on Friday. I’ll finish you then, free of charge.” He gave the boy a look. Mind control. Seriously, one of his favorite new powers. The boy relaxed and smiled at him. “Okay. See you Friday.” He hopped off the stool he’d been hunched over while Aedhan had tattooed the small of his back, and pulled his shirt on without another word of protest. Aedhan made rapid work of the ink cleanup, said a few hurried words of prayer, and ran for the door and his car. He screeched to a halt in front of Cara’s apartment complex and raced up the walkway to her front door. When no one answered his shouts or bangs, he leaned into the flimsy door and broke it open. He swept a rapid glance around the apartment. Glass all over the kitchen floor, patio window shattered, and a lamp knocked over. Sure signs of a struggle. Fury rose


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up his spine. All his instincts roared for him to protect his mate from danger. He narrowed his eyes to slits at the thought of a possible connection to the terrible disaster in the warehouse. Claws sprang from his fingertips, and growls erupted from his throat. “Cara hurt,” his brother said. “Go go go!” Aedhan swore. He couldn’t shift. Not here. What to do? Where to start? He needed a plan. Baelon. Right. Baelon had hinted he had more information. Aedhan cursed the limitations of a steel vehicle and crazy-slow wheels. He drove as fast as he dared until he got to Baelon’s waterfront condo and then pushed the buzzer at the upscale complex door. “Open up!” he growled when Baelon’s sleepy voice answered. “We’ve got more trouble.” Aedhan spent fifteen minutes pacing in Baelon’s condo while he and Baelon argued about whether this had anything to do with the warehouse bombing. When Baelon finally got to the part about the crazies who’d been picketing his adult video stores, Aedhan grabbed onto that as a potential lead. “What’s the information you have on these idiots?” Aedhan demanded. “Who knows how people like this think? What if they’ve somehow connected all three of us? It’s at least a place to start.” The sum total of Baelon’s info was an address he’d managed to obtain the week before of one of the men he’d found picketing his studio. Aedhan drove them both recklessly through the city streets of Portland. They headed north toward the industrial area, farther up the waterfront. When pressed by Baelon to further explain the situation with Cara, Aedhan reluctantly shared as little as he could about how and why he met her in the shop. “So Cara was friends with my assistant Jackie,” Baelon said. “Hmmm. I’m sorry about Jackie. She was a good accountant. It’s extremely unfortunate she happened to be there working when the bomb went off.” Aedhan gripped the steering wheel. “Yeah, well. At least Cara survived.”


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He could feel Baelon staring at him. “You seem very interested in finding justice for this woman. Makes me wonder what you’re really up to. What else aren’t you telling me?” “What do you mean?” “You’re too involved. What could possibly have you in such a state over a female human?” When Aedhan didn’t answer, Baelon started drumming his fingertips on the armrest. “Wait a minute. Female. Living in Portland. My cousin in a frenzy… Ooh, got it! You found another Daughter of Draca, didn’t you?” Aedhan shot him a look. “You know about Lydia?” Baelon snorted. “Of course. Any shape-shifter alive felt that one. And now you’ve found another one?” He gave an incredulous laugh. “All these years I’ve been here and no such luck.” Instant possessiveness gripped Aedhan. “She’s mine. Mine alone. Got it?” “Chill. Why would I want to stir up more trouble for myself?” But the glint in Baelon’s eye did not reassure Aedhan. “Baelon…” he growled. “Unless you really want a fight Draca-style, you will stay away from her.” “Yeah, yeah, fine. I don’t see how this is connected to anything, but okay, whatever.” Aedhan rolled to a stop in front of a dilapidated duplex. Overgrown weeds, brown grass, and blackberry bushes dominated the yard. A dog barked in the neighborhood, but otherwise the area seemed quiet. They exited the car as quietly as possible, and Baelon went around the back while Aedhan checked out the side. He edged against a small window and tried to see through the broken plastic shades.


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He heard the squeak of a backdoor screen and then the snap of a lock, and watched through the window while Baelon slid soundlessly into the sparse living room. Nothing. Aedhan went around and joined Baelon. They checked every room, but whoever lived there had left. Seconds later Aedhan picked up a familiar, welcome scent near the garage door. Cara. Thank the gods, yes! He growled at lingering images of fear and pain. Worry for Cara consumed him. “She was here! We’ve got to find this bastard—now.” Baelon thought a moment and then said, “I’m bugged. That’s got to be it.” “Bugged?” “Whoever’s targeted my business must have found a way to bug my house. And my studio. It’s the only explanation. They may have been following me too.” “What is ‘bugged’?” “An electronic listening device. You really don’t know much about modern human culture, do you?” Aedhan shook his head, confused. “Someone planted a secret device so they could listen in and follow my movements. They must have followed me to your shop, witnessed our little fight, got a look at Cara, and added both of you to their hit list.” He snapped his fingers. “Bet it was that skinny geek I hired to repair my computer. Must have been him. He did have that weird zealot look to him. I should have paid more attention. He must be connected to the nut jobs who’ve been picketing. I thought I was dealing with Mafia types, but now I wonder. Why involve Cara? What’s in it for them?” Aedhan paced the length of the room, hating every second of inaction. “I don’t care why. Where could they have gone?” Baelon headed for the front door. “Let’s check the road.” He followed him out, not sure where this was going. Baelon went down on one knee in the street and peered intently at the asphalt. “Take a look at this.”


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Still confused, Aedhan joined him and asked, “What are we looking at?” Baelon traced a very faint outline in the wet road. “Tire tracks. Heading in that direction.” He pointed west. Aedhan’s view sharpened. With keen Dracan eyesight, he easily picked out the single set of mud-smeared tracks. West. Toward the river. They both stood and looked in that direction. Aedhan’s gut churned. If they had killed her… Images of her body being dumped in the river caused his inner Draca to nearly explode in urgency. “Let’s go, Baelon!” “Hold up, cowboy. I’m getting a bad feeling.” “What?” “I think they’re heading towards my condo.” “Why would he—what the hell? You mean we might have just passed them on the road?” Aedhan’s teeth ground together. This made no sense, and they were still just standing here with their thumbs up their Dracan asses. “People like that want to make a big statement. Teach us a lesson,” Baelon said. “The bomb wasn’t enough. It’s never enough for these nutcases. They probably think the girl is our weak link, another way to terrorize me.” Clearly Baelon wasn’t budging until he had worked this out. Aedhan schooled himself for patience and growled, “So why your condo?” “Look what’s going down right now. Both of us rushing to the rescue. Asshole probably figures he’ll get three for the price of one. Not only that, in the very place I live. First my warehouse, now my home. He must have known we’d track him here and used that to stall us.” Aedhan swore. “Get going. I’ll meet you there.” “What are you doing?”


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“Go!” Baelon shook his head but got in the car and headed out, tires squealing. “Cara!” His brother lost all patience with Aedhan’s delay. “Go go go, find Cara— now!” Aedhan tore off his clothes. Damn the rules; he knew of only one way to get to her fast. He let the power of his other self flow in liquid heat until it consumed him. Aedhan took wing and soared over the treetops of southeast Portland, not caring that he left fire and smoke in his wake as he headed for the riverfront.


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Chapter Seven Her kidnapper dropped Cara onto a wide leather sofa, leaving her tied up, although he did remove the tape in a painful rip that still had her eyes stinging. She felt sick from whatever substance he had tried to knock her out with. At least she hadn’t lost consciousness. “Who are you?” Cara demanded. “What the hell do you want with me?” She cast a look around the room. Super plushy, expensive-looking pad, with floor-to-ceiling glass windows. She could just see the white curving arch of the Fremont Bridge. They must be in a condo on the downtown waterfront. Her captor had thin, greasy brown hair that hung in ragged lengths to his shoulders. A stained blue work shirt and jeans with holes in the knees completed the derelict image over his hunched and skinny frame. He squatted next to her and tapped a warning finger on her mouth. “I ask the questions. You give the answers.” Then he traced a slow path down her neck to her breast. A different sort of interest lit his eyes that made her go cold with fear. “Who is the new one?” “What are you talking about?” “Don’t play dumb with me. You know damn well who I’m talking about. The new son of the devil. The one with the orange hair.” He moved a lazy finger in a circle around each breast. “No wonder he couldn’t resist you,” he said. “Witch. Consort to the devil.” Chills went up her spine. What did this crazy bastard know about Aedhan? And calling her a consort to the devil? Worse and worse. Cara squirmed while her captor’s hands roamed lower on her body. “Stop it,” she said.


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“What about the ink?” He leaned over and sniffed her face. His sour breath nauseated her. She bucked violently against his hands. “I have no idea what you mean by ink. What ink?” He sat back on his heels and regarded her. “Devil man didn’t tell you about the tattoos?” Cara’s thoughts raced. Something about ink? Aedhan hadn’t mentioned anything special about the tattoos exactly, only about the fluids left over on his needles. But she wasn’t about to tell this asshole anything. “I haven’t known him for very long. We didn’t do much talking about our work.” He straightened and looked down at her in disapproval. “And I suppose you know nothing about the disgusting movies being made by the other one?” “The other one?” He slapped her across the face. Cara blinked back shocked tears, her cheek stinging. “You are a waste of my time,” he snarled. “If I didn’t know he would follow you, I’d send you to hell right now.” A roaring sound shook the condo’s glass windows. He turned toward the noise, and Cara twisted up on the couch to see what was happening. She muffled a scream. An enormous dragon crouched on the topmost curve of the Fremont Bridge. Even from the condo, they could see glittering, furious green eyes staring directly at them. Gray smoke encircled the soaring steel arch of the upper bridge. Aedhan. His long muzzle opened, and a deafening roar issued forth—a murderous cacophony that visibly shook the roadbed below. Every roar brought flashes of fire and thicker smoke. The Oregon and the U.S. flags, set atop the highest point of the span, were dim outlines in the fiery gusts.


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Below the bridge span, utter chaos reigned. The sounds of sirens coming from the distance, people screaming and car brakes screeching mixed with increasingly deafening roars. Minutes later the bridge started a perilous-looking sway. Before she could completely take in the crazy scene outside, a loud bang sounded on the front door, and the doorknob shook with violence. “Cara! Cara, are you in there?” Oh, thank God! Cara’s heart thumped in wild relief. Bad Guy had stacked up heavy furniture in front of the door. The shouting continued as the dresser began to edge backward. Her captor pulled out a gun and aimed it at the door. “Prepare to meet your maker, devil king!” Frantic, Cara managed to wrest one hand free and screamed, “He’s got a gun!” “You bitch!” he yelled at Cara and turned the gun on her. Ear-splitting roars sounded from outside, and the bad guy turned his attention away for a split second just as the front door blew open and a large, redheaded man burst in. The gun went off, missed Cara, and cracked a hole in the wall next to the door. “Milton!” the redhead growled. “I should have known.” He leaped at the man, and they wrestled for control of the gun. The walls of the condo started swaying, and they both lost their footing and crashed to the floor. The gun went skidding out of reach. “It’s Aedhan!” Cara cried, as she managed to get the rest of her ropes off. “He’s coming!” Her unknown hero paused with his hands around Milton’s throat, while Milton uttered strangled curses at his captor. Despite the chaos, Cara watched, dazzled, as the full magnificence of Aedhan’s other nature unfolded. Massive wings snapped out from his body. Overcast skies made the thick lines of his green and blue scales stand out in clear display, and her throat


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tightened as he effortlessly lifted off the bridge and dominated the sky. Her Draca— coming to the rescue! He streaked for the condo. Every downdraft of the improbable wings filled the sky with a swooping noise, adding to the general mayhem below and on both sides of the river. Sirens screamed from all directions. Moving impossibly fast, Aedhan had almost breached the condo deck before Baelon yelled, “Cara, get down!” As she threw herself to the floor, one massive, pissedoff Draca burst through the large plate-glass window and blasted glass, pieces of brick, and steel in lethal projectiles all over the room. The instant Aedhan broke through, he shifted. He straightened immediately from a crouching stance, his muscular, nude body gleaming with sweat, fury contorting his face. In one smooth leap, he covered the distance of the room, but not before Milton managed to loosen Baelon’s grip and attempted to get to his feet. Aedhan plowed into him, and they tumbled to the floor, and then the fight raged over broken glass as they rolled across the shards, landing punches and screaming at each other until blood smeared over most of Aedhan’s body. In very short order, Aedhan had Milton face down with Aedhan’s knee planted on his back and Milton’s hands pinned behind him. Aedhan leveled two more hard punches to the side of Milton’s face. “Mine! You dare to touch what is mine! You damned-to-the-ninth-hell thief!” Milton spit out blood and snarled, “Devil! Devil king! You will suffer the torment of hellfires!” Aedhan ignored him, rapidly trussed him with the ropes left from Cara’s capture and slapped the discarded piece of duct tape over his mouth for good measure. Baelon did a slow handclap. “Good show, cousin. Good show! And my thanks for capturing the asshole who blew up my warehouse.” Aedhan wiped the sweat and blood off his face and regarded his captive with baleful eyes.


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“Monsters, all monsters,” Milton practically spit out. “I’ve seen your sick films, and now you’ve shown who you really are. Demons! You and your demon witch will burn in hell.” His words ended in a grunt as Aedhan leveled another punch at his face and knocked him out. Aedhan glared at Baelon. “You know this guy?” “Unfortunately, yes. He must be a leader of those nutcases I told you about. This asshole in particular has been giving me trouble for some time.” Baelon looked at Milton in disgust. “Who knew he and his crazy little cohorts were so tech savvy? I’m positive now this all started with that weird guy I hired to fix the computers.” Baelon’s look turned murderous. “I knew something was off about that guy.” “Call the police?” Aedhan asked. Baelon shrugged. “Really? And tell them what?” Aedhan’s face darkened. “Aedhan?” Cara said, her voice trembling. “Cara.” Aedhan turned, grabbed Cara, and pulled her tightly against him. “Are you all right, love? I’m so sorry. So, so sorry.” He kissed her over and over as if to reassure himself of her safety. “What the hell is going on?” she said against his chest, hating that her voice trembled. “Oh gods.” Aedhan sighed deeply, and then looked around. He focused for the first time on the ruined condo. “What a blasted mess.” “He kept asking me about the ink—the ink you use in your tattoos. What about the ink?” Despite all the panic and pain, she wanted answers right now. No further delays, no evasion tactics. Whole story. “This is not the place or time for this,” he growled, shooting a warning glance at Baelon. “I need to get rid of him”—he aimed a kick at Milton’s head when the man started to twitch—“and then I can explain.”


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“No, I don’t think so,” Cara said. A cold feeling settled in the pit of her stomach. “I’ve been kidnapped and threatened with death. You’ve smashed this condo to bits and scared the living hell out of the entire city of Portland. I think more explanations are due here.” “Yes, Aedhan. Why don’t you tell your girlfriend about the real reason you’re here?” Baelon brushed glass off the sofa and took a seat. “This should be interesting.” “What should be interesting?” Cara darted her attention back and forth between Aedhan and Baelon, not understanding the subtle undercurrents of meaning in the exchange. She finally connected that Baelon had to be the other Draca Aedhan had the fight with in the shop, and the need for clear explanations, like right now, pounded in her head like a bad migraine. “Why don’t you explain Nareen’s latest scheme, the one that involves, oh, say, manipulating humans?” Baelon asked.


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Chapter Eight “Have you all lost your Dracan minds?” an imperious voice rang out. A dazzlingly beautiful woman appeared by the front door. The door hadn’t opened, yet there she stood. Her red hair blazed in a thick braid that fell over one slender shoulder. She radiated an exotic, golden-tinged energy much like Aedhan, and she carried herself like a queen. Another Draca, Cara thought, stunned speechless along with Baelon and Aedhan. Then realization dawned. This must be Aedhan’s sister, Nareen. Nareen did not look pleased. Like tiny bombs in the sudden quiet, the glass crunched beneath her rapid footsteps as she came toward them. Her long, purple silk gown trailed behind her, brushing the backs of her delicate silver high heels. Cara flashed a look at Aedhan. He had pulled away from her and stood ramrod straight, his face frozen in shock. Cara’s eyes widened. A confusing tangle of emotions poured off him. As Nareen got closer, Baelon and Aedhan bowed their heads. Nareen made her way to the broken plate-glass window. She lifted both arms toward the chaos on the bridge and shouted something in the same foreign tongue Aedhan used, her voice rising clear and powerful above the screaming sirens below. An immediate and thunderous silence fell over the entire metro area of Portland, as if a sudden, noise-dampening blanket had descended upon the bridges and waterfront and freeways and streets. The fires below still burned, but the panic appeared truly over. Cara’s mouth dropped open in shock. What kind of powers do these creatures have? Nareen turned around and faced the group, her gaze sweeping the room, flickering over the unconscious man on the floor and lingering when she got to Cara. Something happened when Cara looked in her eyes, like a shock of recognition. Her


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emerald green eyes had a slight tilt at the corners, showing the family resemblance to Aedhan. Cara shivered. Nareen saw like Aedhan did. As if looking into Cara’s deepest secrets. What a powerful woman. A woman shape-shifter. Nareen folded her arms across her chest and let the silence lengthen. No one spoke. She raised her brows at Aedhan. “Put some clothes on.” Faint derision colored her words. Aedhan shot Baelon a look, and Baelon pointed down the hall. When Aedhan came back, his ill-fitting borrowed pants and partially buttoned shirt seemed incongruous next to Nareen’s purple silkiness. Cara suppressed a giggle. Aedhan looked like he was going to faint, he seemed so anxious. Just then Milton aroused to consciousness, groaning in pain, and mumbled unintelligible words in threatening tones as he glared at them behind the tape over his mouth. “Enough of you,” Nareen snapped and waved her hand at him, and he instantly fell unconscious again. Her lips tight, Nareen shook her head at the Dracan men. The smug look on Baelon’s face had disappeared. “You have both done quite badly. I am sure you are aware of this.” “How was I to know this human nutcase would go all commando on me?” Baelon asked in an affronted tone. “There are consequences to your actions, Baelon,” Nareen said, her voice very cold. “Your lifestyle choices have brought this on. Whether here or on Dracan, everything is cause and effect. I would have hoped you had figured this out by now.” Baelon looked like he wanted to argue, but he snapped his mouth shut when Nareen flashed him a warning look. Aedhan reached over and tried to take Cara’s hand while this exchange went on, but Cara shook him off. She needed all her attention to follow the thread of meaning. Questions pounded at her.


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“What about the ink?” Cara burst out. “And the whole manipulating humans thing?” Baelon let out a harsh bark of laughter. Aedhan flushed red, pulled Cara against him, and whispered with some urgency, “Not now, love. We can talk about this later.” Aedhan’s hand tightened on Cara’s shoulder. Cara refused to be put off. “I know you’re Nareen,” she said. “Aedhan’s sister. I somehow got myself involved in this disaster, and I have some pretty big questions. Will you answer them for me?” Nareen regarded Cara in silence, her face inscrutable. Then, without looking at Aedhan, she asked in a cool voice, “What have you told her, Aedhan?” When Aedhan didn’t answer right away, Cara cut in. “He told me you were looking for women with Draca DNA.” Baelon snorted. “Yeah, he wishes.” Nareen’s foot tapped an impatient rhythm. “I must speak with my brother in private,” she said finally. “You need to leave here. Do not tell anyone what you have seen today for your own protection. Questions and answers will have to wait.” She said the last with an unmistakable air of command. A surge of anger roiled in Cara’s stomach. She was not some child to be dismissed in such a high-handed manner after everything she’d just been through. Before she could get out her protest, Aedhan responded for her. “Not this time, Nareen. You cannot order Cara around like you do the rest of us. She deserves to be included. I say let her stay.” Yeah! Cara thought with a thrill at seeing Aedhan jump to her defense. Nareen raised her eyebrows. “You dare to contradict me?” “I ask for your understanding. You, more than anyone, must realize how special Cara is.” Cara had another moment of secret thrill. Special. She was special.


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Nareen’s foot tapped again as she regarded Aedhan with what seemed like grudging respect. Her hard tone eased. “I realize the circumstances. However, I must insist that we discuss the situation in private. Then, if at all possible, further explanations will be made to the girl.” Nareen nodded at Cara as if to say yes, you and pointed toward the door. Right. So much for her specialness. Cara really, really didn’t want to leave this fascinating little party. Aedhan looked at her, his face miserable. He shrugged his shoulders in mute apology. Cara clenched her jaw so tightly her teeth hurt. How did one go about arguing with a shape-shifting queen? “Fine,” she said. “No problem.” She bolted for the front door, catching herself from slamming it behind her just in time. She headed for the bank of elevators in the hallway, punched the Down button, and waited for the elevator to reach her floor. She noticed how quiet everything seemed. With the condo just blowing up, the lack of response from the neighbors struck her as stunning, to say the least. Must be from whatever Nareen had done to quiet down the city. The elevator chimed open, and she walked to the back wall, closed her eyes, and took a few deep breaths. As the floors steadily ticked downward, Cara tried to make sense of the chaos tumbling around in her brain. Aedhan had implied he had more to explain. Things she needed to know about him, about the Draca. She understood clearly now some very important parts had been deliberately left out. Parts she should never have let him get away with not telling her. Because if Aedhan and his race of creatures had arrived in her world to do harm to humans, then she had been betrayed in the worst of all possible ways. And she had no idea what to do next.

**** Nareen flicked her hand at Baelon, who immediately stood, cleared more glass off the sofa, and made a polite gesture for her to take a seat. Aedhan repressed a smirk at Baelon’s humble air. For once, Aedhan wasn’t the only one in trouble. He noted Nareen


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reclining in her queenlike way, her gown dropping elegantly to the debris-laden floor. Exactly what he would have expected of her, but no less surreal in the destroyed condo. Baelon retreated to a wing chair in the far corner, and Aedhan remained standing, keeping his face impassive while his thoughts churned. “I do not know quite what to do with you. Both of you,” she said, her ruby red lips tight with disapproval. “You have each, in your own ways, broken the rules, and now everything is a mess.” “I did nothing wrong,” Baelon contested hotly. “Check out a certain Draca’s actions on a certain bridge!” “Do not start down this path. You and I need to have a small discussion regarding your own behavior here. But now is not the time.” Baelon snapped his mouth shut. Aedhan couldn’t help a small flash of satisfaction. Nareen’s golden red hair fell to her lap in a thick, knotted braid, highlighting razor cheekbones and the sculpted perfection of her face. Power radiated from every cell of her body. Aedhan swallowed the slight fear he always felt in her presence. Damn it to the ninth hells, the gods had surely guided him here. Why didn’t Nareen know this? Nareen narrowed her eyes at Aedhan. “Tell me your story. I want to hear your version before I offer further help. Or decide what will become of the mess you have made.” Aedhan glanced at Milton, still unconscious on the floor. What would happen to the pathetic bastard? And himself? Would Nareen send him back to Dracan? He took a deep breath and plunged in. Brutal honesty was probably called for.

**** An hour later Aedhan’s voice finally trailed off. He sat on a footstool, hunched over with weariness, bracing himself for disapproval. The silence lengthened. Baelon cleared his throat, and Aedhan kept his attention on Nareen’s face. He simply could not get a read on her reaction.


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“So,” she said at last, “you squandered newly acquired powers on a hunt for sex.” Aedhan jumped to his feet. “That’s not fair. You, more than any of our kin, have been obsessed with sex, with procreation. Spells to restore DNA and sexual libido. More spells in tattoo ink to foster half-breed Draca. How can you possibly scoff when I told you the girl has the old blood? I swear I heard Alwen’s voice telling me to help her.” His thoughts spun in ragged turmoil. He’d never spoken in such a manner to his sister, his words tumbling out so untempered. “You knew the rules. You agreed. You made vows. Gods or no gods, because of your choices, we have made trouble in the human world. Shown ourselves to them. I will not believe Taranis and Alwen required such actions. ” Instead of making him cringe, the sting of rebuke in the words caused Aedhan to barely suppress a growl. His hands grew claws at the fingertips, while his other self kept up a ceaseless demand that they end this foolishness now and go get Cara. Before he could stop himself, more accusations fell out of his hapless mouth. “What about Emeil and Celina? Did the gods require those actions—the ones in Baelon’s sick films?” Nareen’s eyes blazed, and she stood up from the sofa. “That is none of your concern.” “Because of Baelon, Cara’s best friend was murdered and Cara was injured. Everything Baelon does in this city affects me, Nareen. Affects all of us.” Nareen’s hand swept out with a cutting motion. “That is enough about Baelon.” She shot a look at Baelon as if to say I’ll get to you later. “What is important now is what you are going to do to remedy this mess.” Aedhan’s spine stiffened. Nareen still didn’t seem to understand the main point. “Don’t you see? Cara was sent to the shop. How else do you explain the fact that she walked through all the wards? The wards you yourself set in place?”


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Nareen sighed. “There is some truth in that. I do admit I sense the complexities that arise when our gods see fit to intervene.” She folded her arms across her chest and regarded Aedhan for a long minute. “And yes, it is extraordinarily good fortune to have found another Daughter of Draca. All of that aside, it pains me that you were unable to mind the very rules you swore to uphold. How does that speak to repairing your irresponsible reputation among your kin?” Aedhan bowed his head in acknowledgement of her censure. The voice in his head continued clamoring nonstop—a keening wail that nearly drowned out anything else. He needed to cut this short. “Please, can we continue this conversation later? I need to find Cara. She is terrified and rightly so. I swear I have not told her about the ink or the power in the tattoos. And now my hand is forced. Can’t you understand?” Nareen gave him another long, appraising look. “Here is what you will do. Find her. Tell her everything. Then you and she will go to Dracan.” “You are relieving me of my duties here?” Alarm shot up his spine. Was this good news or bad? “Only for now. How everything will play out depends on your sojourn to Dracan.” An amused glint lit her eyes. “We’ll see what the gods have to say about your little situation now. As you so passionately declared, their involvement seems likely.” Relieved, Aedhan lifted Nareen’s hand and placed a grateful kiss. She patted his shoulder awkwardly, then gave him a push and said, “Go.” She didn’t need to tell him twice. As he sprinted for the door, the last thing he heard was Nareen’s stern voice saying, “Now, Baelon. Let’s talk about you, shall we?”

**** So much for well-laid plans. Cara sat on the steps of Old Town Tattoo, completely at a loss. Her frustration and sense of betrayal had dried up, leaving her exhausted and confused. She had managed to find a bus that took her to the general neighborhood and then practically ran the rest of the way over here, sure she’d find only the illusion of the


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repaired shop. Ha. Should have known better by now, what with all the crazy Draca powers floating around Portland. She didn’t even question that her feet led her unerringly to the shop. Not a single wrong turn. Instead of being able to step through the broken window like she expected, she’d found everything all back together, no evidence of the raging fight that had taken down walls and pretty much destroyed the entire front half of the building. She felt like Alice when she traveled through the looking glass. Curiouser and curiouser. What had she been thinking? With the door locked tight, her next idea to break the window so she could check out the mysterious ink quickly lost any appeal. She put her head down on her knees and let a few tears slide out. Why did she long for Aedhan to hold her again? Tell her everything would be okay? How pathetic was that? “Cara!” Cara lifted her head at the sound. Aedhan was running down the alley toward her. He reached the porch, and Cara nearly leaped into his arms. He yanked her tightly against him, and she pressed her face to his sweaty, smoky chest. “I am so sorry, so sorry, so sorry,” he kept saying into her hair, smoothing his hands up and down her back. Then he leaned down to kiss her with hot, insistent lips; their tongues tangled in a feverish rhythm. “You’ve been saying that a lot lately,” Cara mumbled against his mouth after a few minutes. She forced herself to pull away. “No more. Take me inside and explain. Everything.” “Cara—” He reached for her again, but she pushed his hands away and stepped up the porch steps to the door. “Inside,” she said. He gave her a small bow. “As the lady wishes.” He muttered a few words, and the front door swung open. “Nice trick.” She walked inside, and Aedhan followed.


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“Hmmm,” he said and led her across the room to the trapdoor in the floor. He pointed. Cara hesitated. “We have to go down there?” “You want to know about our ink? Then yes.” He indicated the metal stairs that led below the floor. “Don’t worry. Nothing bad will happen.” He put his hand on the small of her back, gently urging her to the dark opening. “It’s okay, really. You need to see this—you’re right.” When they reached the concrete bottom, Aedhan punched in numbers on a keypad next to a closed steel door. It swung open with a slight hiss, and he tugged her in. Lights flooded the cavern, illuminating rows and rows of metal shelving stretching the full length of the space. Cardboard boxes loaded each shelf. “Is this the ink?” “Come see.” He led them to the closest shelf and pulled forward one of the boxes. He wrenched open the top with a swift movement and lifted out an opaque, round container. Embossed on the front of the glass was the same crest that decorated the outside of each box. “Beautiful,” Cara said, gazing in awe at the artistry. An image of a stylized dragon breathing fire from its mouth circled like a vine around the bottle. “Family crest,” he said in answer to her unspoken question. “There is power in this image. Power and protections.” He handed her the bottle, and Cara accepted it with caution, cradling the delicate glass in her arms. She traced the embossed outline with the tip of her index finger. The bottle warmed in her hands as she moved her finger along the crest, shivers and tingles flickering through her palms. “What causes the warmth?” “You notice that? Good. Another proof of your blood. The fact that you feel the warmth shows you have kinship.”


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Kinship? “You mean my Draca DNA?” “That’s exactly what I mean.” He put one finger under her chin and tilted up her face, his eyes smoldering. “And more.” Her heart pounded at his words. He pressed her into a tall stack of boxes, and a subtle hum vibrated against her backside as if the boxes were alive. Carefully she put the bottle down on the shelf next to her. Aedhan claimed her lips, his mouth demanding. She pressed her hand between his legs and rubbed against his rising erection. “And the ink? Magic?” she murmured, while he groaned at her gentle squeezing. “Complicated…” He yanked open her blouse and shoved up her bra. Her turn to groan as his mouth found her pebbled nipples and sucked, first one, then the other. Cara slid to the floor, Aedhan following. She landed partly in his lap and leaned against his broad chest while his head stayed bent to her breasts, suckling. She gripped the back of his head, the smoky, tangy scent of him wafting over her skin. “What’s in the ink exactly?” she breathed, her lips against his hair, wanting to give in but determined to get to the bottom of all the mystery. He raised his head, his eyes glazed and hot. “The ingredients are why Nareen sent me here. Do you really want me to stop now and explain?” “Try,” she whispered, running her hands across his broad shoulders, through his hair, unable to stop touching him. “Tell me more.” “Look at your own tattoo right now,” Aedhan said. Cara glanced at her shoulder where her blouse had slipped down. A soft golden glow rose from her skin. “Wow, I’ve seen these tattoos glow on my friends, but never like this.” Golden light rose a full inch above Cara’s skin in the area of her burn. “You are responding to the magic of your own blood, enhanced by the life force in the ink.”


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Aedhan’s hands cradled her bottom, squeezing her in a delightful manner and pulling her at the same time against his groin. They rocked in silence together for a minute. “Life force?” Cara nudged him to continue. “The ink is swimming in Draca DNA combined with rare and powerful inks found only in the Draca sanctuary.” Aedhan kissed his way to her shoulder. “Nareen cast a spell blessed by our gods, created the sacred fluid, and sent me here to disperse the magic among the humans in the form of tattoos. And because you already carry some DNA of the ancient lineage, when combined with the life in the ink, well… You have become very, ah—” Aedhan hesitated. Cara leaned back and lifted her eyebrows. “Very what?” “Fertile.” “You mean as in magically enabled to get pregnant?” Cara’s voice rose. “No, not exactly. I would say more like, um, a powerful combination of chemistry. You being so close to the sacred ink creates an energetic link to your own powers. These include the power to give life…to a shape-shifter.” What? “Does this mean everyone who has been tattooed by you will be a parent to a shape-shifter?” “They will always be given a choice.” Aedhan cupped Cara’s cheek in his hand. “We would never hurt the humans in this world, love.” His eyes pleaded for understanding. “Each human called to have the sacred mark will enjoy relatively protected and secure lives,” he said. “The magic in the ink brings fortune in money, love, and health. Eventually, when the tattooed human becomes pregnant or fathers a child, an envoy from Dracan will be sent to meet the prospective parents. They will be shown the truth, observe our other nature, and given a chance to decide for themselves the final outcome. If they choose not to allow the child to grow to its true heritage, the knowledge will be taken away from the minds of the tattooed. The parents left


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undisturbed. The child will grow into a happy human being and never know of its other nature.” “Incredible,” Cara said. She was one of those potential parents. “Jeez, I don’t know what to think about this. What happens if they decide to let the children become shapeshifters?” “They are brought to Dracan and raised in love among our kin.” “But what happens to the parents then?” Aedhan looked uncomfortable. “That part is not exactly worked out yet. This is typical of Nareen’s spells. Seems as if there’s always some aspect of her powers that brings unexpected consequences or isn’t quite settled until the very end. So I don’t have any answers about that right now. I do know Nareen predicts more humans than you might think will choose the shape-shifter way. The gods have allowed her to weave the spell, so with their blessings we believe we have the opportunity to replenish our race. With as little disruption to humans as possible. At least that’s the plan.” Cara leaned her head down on Aedhan’s shoulder and went silent. She needed to think. Aedhan kissed the top of her head. “What, sweetness? Are you all right? Too shocked to speak?” “Well, for one thing, guess I’ll be keeping up with my prescription for birth control pills.” Aedhan stiffened, and his voice cooled. “You do not wish to give birth to a shapeshifter?” “Hey, I didn’t mean that.” Or did she? “I just don’t want to have a kid right now. Any kind of kid. Come on, Aedhan. Give me a break. I need some time to adjust, to think about things.”


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He gave her a glum look. “I remember the last time you did that. Did not go well for us.” He raised her chin and kissed her, his lips more insistent. “Can we stop talking now?” Aedhan’s kisses made it very difficult to think. “So okay, what about the big mess today downtown and the crazy guy who kidnapped me and all that? And what did Nareen say? Did she read you the riot act?” “Ah. Nareen. Yes. She was not pleased.” When she would have asked more, he rolled over, sending them both flat to the floor. He slid down and took her breast in his mouth again. Cara moaned as his warm lips gently sucked on her nipple. “I give up,” she said. “You will tell me everything I want to know, right?” She gave him a push so she could slide off her pants and yank off her blouse. “Absolutely,” he said and stripped off his clothes. He looked so gorgeous there—lying waiting for her on the rough stone floor— naked, muscular, lean, and all that amazing orange hair spread wild. Cara’s heart was beating nearly out of her chest. She dropped down and straddled him. She wrapped her hands around his silken, erect cock. She was so ready, so wet. She lowered herself slowly, loving the way he stretched her vagina, filling her with fleshy heat. She fell across his chest and kissed him as she rocked her hips, taking in his length and gasping in pleasure as her muscles contracted around him, and he responded with urgent thrusts. He squeezed her bottom, probing her cleft, and then he slid a finger to her small opening. “Do you like this?” he asked in a low voice, moving his finger in tantalizing circles just within her puckered rim. Cara pressed down against his hand, and Aedhan sank his finger a little farther into her channel. She’d never had anyone touch her there, although she’d had those secret fantasies. “Mmm, mmm… Oh, I think I do…”


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He pushed in more and reached a hidden pleasure point that caused her to shudder in exquisite, shocked reaction. She sped up the bucking of her hips, and Aedhan’s moans filled the cave with silvery sounds. His free hand rode the side of her hip, urging her to go deep. She arched as the head of his cock breached the very tip of her womb, and then her core ignited as he slid a second finger up her bottom. This far eclipsed any fevered fantasy. She reached for it, diving into the sensations unafraid, on fire, inhibitions crumbling. “Aedhan!” She rode him faster, skating the brink of climax, bucking on him like a crazed cowgirl. She lost track of his clever fingers and mouth, knowing he skirted the edges of coming with her, waiting for her to give the sign. Her breasts stroked against the soft hairs of his chest, every nerve singing until finally she screamed out loud and gave herself up, and a split second later he joined her in perfect, delirious union. Dizzy, she sprawled limp across his chest. His heart thundered under her damp cheeks. Hers. She clutched him. She wanted to stay this way forever. Never move. Not think. Not question. Not possible. “Aedhan?” She pulled away so she could see his face. “Shhh,” he whispered and tugged her back. “Not yet.” He’s right, she told herself. Just breathe. Enjoy the moment. Exactly what she’d been telling herself all along, it seemed. Recipe for being with a shape-shifter. “Okay, love,” Aedhan murmured after a while. “If you want more explanations, I know where you can find them.” He kissed her before he continued. “On Dracan.” “What do you mean?” “Nareen wants us to go to Dracan. Together.” “Really? To the sanctuary?” Cara’s brain exploded at the thought. Visit a magically created shape-shifter world? Oh, hell yes! “You’re not afraid?” “Why should I be? Is there some kind of danger for me there?”


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A guilty looked crossed Aedhan’s face so fast Cara almost missed it. “Danger, Aedhan?” “No. No danger. Just perhaps overwhelming to you. We are a different world. I think you would say alien, very strange in some ways. Yet we are also so alike…even a half-blood shape-shifter child would be treasured and loved.” “Huh. Now that does sound weird. Don’t freak me out again.” “Which is exactly why Nareen thinks you need to go to Dracan. Meet my kin. And also you would meet Lydia, the other woman like you.” Cara had forgotten about her. Didn’t Aedhan say she was pregnant? “Yeah? Oh yes, please. Let’s go! I bet Lydia would have all kinds of info for me.” Not to mention going to a magical place would be amazing. Truly her life had become a romantic, paranormal story for real. “When are we going?” “Right now would be good.” Aedhan reluctantly untangled himself from Cara’s legs and stood, holding out his hand to help her up. “You’re kidding. How?” Cara looked around for her clothes, her stomach jumping with nerves. “Watch,” Aedhan said when they stood fully clothed and ready. He waved his hand, and a mist rose from the back of the cave. “Nareen created a portal here. A way for us to travel back and forth.” He kissed Cara and smiled. “Talented, my sister. Very handy.” In a few seconds the mist became more solid, revealing the faint blue outline of a door shimmering suspended in the air. “Used to be she just jerked you back and forth across dimensions. Gave us some hard landings until she improved the spell. Now we’ve actually got a door.” This was like the transporter in Star Trek. What if it didn’t work? What if her body exploded into tiny pieces of cells, like a transporter malfunction?


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Aedhan saw her nervousness. “It’s perfectly safe, I promise. Hold tight to my hand, and we’ll walk through together. Everything will be fine.” And just like that, while gripping Aedhan’s hand, Cara stepped through the magic portal to another dimension.


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Chapter Nine Cara opened her eyes to an immense cave that in some surreal way seemed familiar. She lay on her back on a hard stone surface. Every rock wall around her glowed in a dim golden light. Beautiful etchings soared across their surfaces. Animals maybe? She couldn’t quite tell. Definitely not in Portland anymore. She sat up in excitement and almost blacked out with the head rush. “Easy, love!” “Aedhan?” Cara leaned against him. “Are we here? This is your sanctuary?” He helped her up, holding her against him while she steadied herself. “We are here. This is the Cave of Remembering, one of our most sacred places. It holds our memories safe. I’m surprised, actually, that the door brought us to such a place of power. I believe we have been expected.” “Unbelievable,” she murmured and walked over get a better look. No wonder they gleamed. Black obsidian walls surrounded them, an unknown source of golden light reflecting off the surface. Draca. Carved etchings of Draca flying and shifting and fighting. Fighting with men, warring with each other. Draca in human form, having sex, children. Then scenes of fire and destruction and desolation. Cara’s heart clenched. Something hummed below the surface of the beautiful images. These were no simple pictures, more like powerful stories of Dracan history, the history of a race of flying shape-shifters. Aedhan moved to her side and slung an arm around her shoulder. “This is what you meant by holding memories, isn’t it?” Cara asked, leaning into him and gazing in wonder at the scene.


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“This and something more.” He led her across the room to a darker section of wall. The only carving on that section looked like the outline of a human body. The hair rose up on Cara’s arms. “What’s this?” she asked and touched the wall with her fingertips. A faint electrical vibration hummed under her hand. Power. Even she could tell that. Drawn to feel the stone more closely, she let her cheek rest against the cool surface and then pressed the full extension of her body into the outline. It felt female; the indentation for breasts fit hers perfectly. “Hmmm, lovely,” Cara murmured, enjoying the slightly buzzy contact. Aedhan pressed behind her. “Draca magic rules here,” he whispered. “Powered by our gods, Taranis and Alwen. Where you stand is the place Lydia manifested the magic and power that restored Dracan life force.” Aedhan moved her hair aside and kissed her neck. She closed her eyes, trying to imagine what had gone on. Knowing what she did of Aedhan and his stories, she was pretty sure that whatever happened here had most likely been of a highly erotic nature. Aedhan’s hands roamed lower, squeezing her bottom and igniting a small fire between her legs. She moaned and leaned her full weight against the wall, Aedhan heavy and warm on her back. Oh, yes, most definitely sexual. The sound of a throat clearing interrupted them. Aedhan’s hands dropped, and Cara straightened and turned around. She flushed with embarrassment. “Sorry to interrupt, brother. We wish to welcome you and your guest to Dracan.” Tall, dark, and handsome didn’t begin to describe the man standing before them. Red hair so dark it seemed almost purple was pulled back over a chiseled face that bore a clear resemblance to Aedhan’s. He wore knee-high brown boots, black trousers, and a white linen shirt open at the throat. He looked like a darker, older, more severe version of Aedhan. With much classier clothes. Aedhan gave a sheepish grin and walked over to his brother. “Greetings, Eremon.” They embraced in a warm hug, clearly glad to see each other.


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“I’d heard you were maturing, little brother, and becoming more responsible. I see you haven’t reformed completely.” “Don’t believe everything you hear.” The two brothers grinned at each other in seemingly perfect understanding. The woman accompanying Eremon smiled at the scene. She looked to be about six months pregnant, sporting short, curly auburn hair and huge brown eyes. She beamed at the group. “Hello,” she said and surprised Cara with a hug. “I’m Lydia, Eremon’s wife. Welcome to the Draca sanctuary.” Cara hugged her back. “It’s fantastic to meet you.” “Likewise,” Lydia said. “I know you must have a million questions.” “Oh, you’ve got that right,” Cara said. “I mean, I can hardly believe I’m really here, that this is happening to me.” “I know exactly what you mean. More than you can possibly imagine,” Lydia said. “I look forward to some girl chat soon.” “Yeah, me too,” Cara said, hoping they’d have that girl chat sooner rather than later. Eremon gestured them on toward a hallway in the back of the cave. “There is a welcoming party waiting for you outside.” Aedhan raised his eyebrows at Eremon, but his brother only shook his head. “It’s a surprise.” Lydia hooked her arm in Cara’s, giving Cara a warm sense of instant kinship. The two of them followed the brothers down the hall. Even though Cara knew Lydia was human, Lydia emanated a special kind of glow that Cara had begun to associate with the Draca. And she seemed truly happy. Good sign, Cara thought.


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Then the little party came to a heavy, carved door. Eremon pushed it open and led them outside. And Cara nearly lost her breath. The Mount Hood wilderness spread out before her in a dazzling, shimmering copy of the one Cara had left behind. A brilliant yellow sun with no gray clouds to mar the azure skies shone like a blessing on the incredible aerobatics being conducted above them. Draca—circling, diving, swooping in welcome. Dozens of magnificent winged creatures—glowing with purple, green, and crimson scales—dipped their wings in greeting as they soared above the gathering on the cliffside. Aedhan and Eremon shouted out enthusiastic responses and tugged the women along with them closer to the action. Cara could not believe her eyes. The scene in the sky played like a movie, just like the vision she’d had in the massage room with Aedhan. “Aren’t they incredible?” Lydia grinned at Cara. “And guess what happens next, lucky girl?” Aedhan turned and hugged Cara. “That’s right, sweetness. Ready for a ride?” “Oh my God, really? Now? With everyone?” Cara gulped. Ride with them? “Please honor me with your presence on my back?” Aedhan bowed, his eyes gleaming. Cara glanced at Lydia, who nodded encouragement. “You’ve done this before, right?” Lydia asked. “Oh yeah. Pretty flipping incredible. In more ways than one. You know what I mean?” The two women shared a grin of secret understanding. With those words, Aedhan and Eremon proceeded to take off their clothes, putting them in neat piles by a tree. Cara gave a sidelong look at Lydia, who returned a slightly wicked smile.


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“Dracan men are damn hot, don’t you think?” Cara nodded, laughing, admiring the sight of the beautiful, buff, naked men standing in front of them. The view didn’t last long; seconds later the air shimmered in silvery clouds and mist, and two massive Draca crouched before the waiting women. “Wow!” Cara murmured. Eremon was all dark—black scales and crimson and gold-tipped wings. Next to Eremon, Aedhan was all color and light, multiple shades of greens and blues, with matching crimson tips on his folded wings. The two of them filled the meadow with their immense bulk. Aedhan rolled his back in a familiar invitation. Lydia pulled two lightweight blankets out of the large bag she had brought with her. “We’re going bareback-style,” she said. “If you haven’t done this before, I strongly encourage you to give it a try. And you’ll understand why as soon as you two get airborne.” Lydia strode over to Eremon and, with a practiced throw, tossed the thin blanket over the top of his midsection behind the wings. She then went over to Aedhan and did the same thing. Another short walk took her to the trees where the men had stashed their clothes, and she started stripping. “Naked is the best, I swear.” She wiggled out of her jeans, pulled off her top and underwear, and sauntered back to Eremon. She had the lean build of an athlete, even with the baby bulge in front. “The baby loves this,” she said, and with Eremon crouched low and rolled to the side, she began climbing, her bare rump tan as if she did this on a regular basis. “Oh, jeez. Naked? Really?” Aedhan tossed his head and gave her an unmistakable toothy Dracan grin, snorting out a puff of gray smoke. Cara looked up at the wondrous flying creatures. She so wanted to join them. Eremon had already made the leap, and Lydia’s exuberant yells echoed off the canyon walls.


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Cara pulled off her clothes. If Lydia did this, then she could too. The crowd of interested Draca followed her every move; self-conscious, she tried Lydia’s casual saunter over to Aedhan, who obligingly rolled low. His gleaming scales sizzled with warmth under her hands, her arms, against her bare legs. Heat seeped into her body in a tingly kind of way as she climbed. Lydia had seemed to suggest something of a sensual nature would happen, and Cara started to get the idea as she seated herself on the soft blanket. With her legs spread wide across Aedhan’s thick hide, even through the light cotton, a new kind of hotness settled into her pussy as soon as she let herself breathe. Oh, nice. Very, very nice. She leaned forward against a jutting bony ridge of his upper back and wrapped her arms around the handy appendage. Seconds later Aedhan’s huge body rippled and bunched, and he made a running leap off the high cliff. Cara whooped in delight. Warm wind gusted over her bare skin, her naked breasts pressed against rough scales, and her hair whipped around her face. Aedhan streaked for his kin, who greeted them by dipping their wings, and soon they joined the joyous circling of magnificent Draca in the brilliant skies of their beloved sanctuary. With each dive Aedhan made, Cara’s breasts squeezed even tighter against the fleshy ridge, and pulses of arousal throbbed between her legs. Her body moved in perfect accord with Aedhan’s, making continuous subtle adjustments as he dipped and turned, until they seemed to be in complete unity, her body and his one whole, soaring creature. She closed her eyes and imagined her own scales, the golden ones she had envisioned before—her arms encrusted with rows of gleaming diamond shapes, her wings folded against her midsection. Daughter of Draca. The meaning of the words resonated in deeper understanding. She needed to be here—was meant to be here—naked and wild, soaring with her dragon man.


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Aedhan’s musculature under Cara’s bottom rippled as if he knew her thoughts, and the ripples sang like an erotic song into Cara’s pussy. She squeezed her legs to his sides, her clit rubbing against the soft blanket, her nipples tingling where they pressed into his heated scales. Aedhan soared, each downdraft beat of his leathery wings casting a rhythm as if his cock thrust inside her. Cara’s near orgasm on the next swooping dive caused Aedhan to begin descent. He swung down, sliding to the forest floor in a smooth landing, and folded his wings and rolled over for Cara. Aedhan’s Draca kin had disappeared; they were alone, surrounded by acres of swaying trees and craggy mountains. Cara’s body slid down over Aedhan’s hot scales, every inch of him igniting tiny fires of arousal. Laughing and breathless, she waited for him to shift. He stilled in Draca form, his gleaming sides heaving; tendrils of smoke circled above their heads. Cara leaned against him and pressed a kiss to the thick, fleshy scales of his neck. Aedhan huffed, his slanted eyes half shutting in pleasure. Cara laid more kisses along the diamond edges, her lips tingling with the sheer animal heat beneath her mouth. For an electric moment, Cara envisioned her human self transformed to Draca, Aedhan behind her, on top of her, fucking and loving as they soared among the clouds. Aedhan crouched lower, then slowly rolled his immense bulk to the side, offering her an unobstructed view of his rigid cock. Cara eyed the huge penis with fascinated lust. The engorged plum head shone with white droplets and her pussy clenched at the sight. Cara ventured a touch and found the skin warm and silky, the crimson veins that crowded his length beautiful. She grasped the width of him with both hands, the circumference too great for her fingers to even meet, and he uttered a roar in response. Staying motionless, he clearly willed her to continue her exploration. She leaned closer, sniffing in pleasure at the familiar chocolate and smoky essence. She flashed a look up at his head, and he sprawled, his eyes narrowed in obvious bliss. Emboldened, she let her tongue dart to his shuddering cock. Hot, exotic flavor coated


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her mouth—smoke and burned chocolate and the taste of wild grasses. She licked at the droplets, sucking them down like nectar, willing her lips to go where they might, sliding around his massive erection. Images of winging as Draca flooded her mind, Aedhan above her with his teeth on her scaled neck, his creature’s penis wedged into her female channel as they floated in a diamond-bright sky. Cara welcomed the vision, understanding now this was part of her blood heritage with the Draca. She couldn’t shift, yet she could still feel them, become one with them in her mind and heart. Aedhan turned to smoke in her arms, shifting in a burst of sparkling light. Cara gasped at the sensation of the change happening in her very hands, another first. They tumbled to the loamy ground together. “Never enough,” he growled low in her ear. “I will never have enough of you, of the taste and feel of you.” His voice broke into soft phrases of Dracish. He licked his way to her breasts and then her belly and back to her lips. “Cara, ah, my Cara…I adore you.” He looked at her with shining eyes. “Say you will be mine, love. Say you will be my mate. I swear to you we will find a way for this to work.” Too full of emotion to speak, Cara kissed him with a full heart. Yes. She could easily spend the rest of her life having this. Experiencing this. An extraordinary life, loving a shape-shifter. Daughter of Draca. Mate of beautiful, tender, cheerful, laughing, amazing Aedhan. She leaned back to gaze in his eyes. “I still don’t know about children.” “I can be patient. We can take our time to sort things out.” “And there are lots of things you haven’t explained about what happened in Portland.” “I know.” Aedhan brushed a strand of hair off her face with a tender gesture. “We’re meeting with Nareen tomorrow. I suspect much will be made clear then. The main thing is…do you…can you love me? Will you give me—us—a chance?”


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The promise of the most unlikely happily-ever-after echoed in her heart. She searched his eyes for truth, for promises of safety. “What else, Aedhan? Are there more secrets? Am I safe with you, with the rest of your family?” He squeezed her against him and buried his face in her hair. “It breaks my heart that you need to ask that.” “Well, think about what we just went through. What’s going to appear on the front page of the Oregonian tomorrow? I’m sure about a million people snapped your picture while you sat on top of the Fremont Bridge.” “Nareen took care of it. Remember how everything went quiet? Memories have been altered. Photos are gone, disappeared in some way even I don’t understand. Nareen’s powers are truly great. She speaks directly to Taranis and Alwen.” “Oh. Well, if she’s speaking to the gods, I mean… What am I worried about?” Cara laughed. “No, actually, everything worries me. But somehow that doesn’t seem to change how I feel about you.” “And you feel…?” “Like you are the most incredible man-creature-dragon-Draca I’ve ever met. Shape-shifter extraordinaire, out of my wildest paranormal romance dreams.” Cara kissed him. “I’m so in love with you, Aedhan. I don’t think there’s any going back.” Aedhan made a muffled sound and pulled her in for more kisses that went on for several minutes. “How I’m going to keep any of this secret from my friends, I have no idea,” Cara said once they came up for air. “We’ll come up with something,” Aedhan said. “Our story is going to have a happily-ever-after, I promise you.” The last of Cara’s doubts melted away. A fairy-tale ending to her own paranormal romance? She’d be crazy if she walked away now. “Okay,” she said. “I’m in.”


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Epilogue Three Months Later Cara gazed in pleasure at the quiet clinic. The small waiting room looked cozy, with the matching set of soft, rose-colored overstuffed chairs and sofa that had come from the tattoo parlor. The tiny but efficient front office had plenty of big windows to bring in fresh air. Only a few final preparations remained in order to welcome the clinic’s first clients on Monday morning. She smiled at the sight of Celina hunched over the front desk keyboard. Celina had cut her hair short and styled it into spikes; she looked quite the hipster Portlander. Nothing like having a couple of rebellious young Draca working as her first employees, Cara thought. They had refused to leave Portland, so with Nareen’s help in the negotiating, Celina and Emeil had agreed to work for Cara in exchange for quitting Baelon’s porn business. Celina had learned the business software blazingly fast; she loved everything about modern technology and especially computers. Who would have thought Cara’s receptionist would be a delightful shape-shifter with a bent for punk rock? Outside Emeil knelt in the front yard, doing the final touch-ups to the landscaping. He functioned as gardener, maintenance man, and security. Apparently, allowing Celina and Emeil to immigrate to Portland had been part of Nareen’s master plan. A slow, secret reintegration of the Draca into human society. In another surprise move, Nareen had gifted the clinic to Cara as a way to support herself and allow her as much freedom as possible to pursue her relationship with Aedhan. Having her own business was a dream come true, and Cara still could hardly believe the incredible series of events that had led to all of this. The business also


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functioned as a handy way to disguise her occasional visit to Dracan. Her friends took it for granted that starting a business required long hours and kept her from much socializing, and of course Aedhan charmed everyone. Aedhan came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her middle. “Are you excited?” “Six massage patients on our first day,” Cara said. She turned to look at him. “This is so fantastic. I never would have thought of a women-only clinic. Thanks for the idea.” Aedhan waggled his eyebrows at her, making her giggle. They both knew Aedhan didn’t want her touching any man except him and had come up with the solution when he had a minor freak-out at the thought of Cara continuing her massage career. He leaned down to kiss her. His love wrapped Cara in a warm, electric embrace. As he had promised her, they were taking it slow. Aedhan greeted Celina, who waved her hand distractedly, barely looking up from the desk. He swung over an office chair, seated himself, and tugged Cara onto his lap. He nuzzled her neck, and she leaned into him. “Hmmm, that feels good,” she murmured as his arms tightened and his lips slid over her warm cheek. “When do you have to go back to Dracan?” Nareen had suspended the sacred tattoo project for the time being. She said they had enough of the tattooed humans to manage a trial run. This meant waiting and seeing what potential parents of Draca half-blood children would conceive. However, this had left Aedhan without a mission or specific purpose until Nareen, of course, had come up with the brilliant idea of Aedhan becoming one of the Dracling teachers. “I need to go tomorrow,” Aedhan said. “I can’t leave the Draclings alone for too long. Once they scatter, it’s hard to get them all back in line.” Aedhan gave her a rueful look. “I suppose this is Nareen’s way of making me do penance. This younger generation is a handful. They hardly listen, and it’s all I can do to instill any kind of discipline in their disrespectful Dracan behinds. Kind of reminds me of myself in my younger days, which of course is the idea, I’m sure.”


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Even though he pretended to complain, Cara knew Aedhan secretly relished the challenge of whipping some discipline into the newest group of teenagers. He spent half his time on Dracan and the other half with her—Cara’s idea of a perfect arrangement. She had plenty of alone time and space, and by the time he got back to Portland, she could hardly wait to see him. “How’s it going with Baelon?” Bad feelings still existed between Aedhan and Baelon, but Cara felt grateful for Baelon’s help in the rescue. And despite the whole tragedy of the bombing, as bizarre as it seemed, Baelon had played a role in Cara finding Aedhan, and she carried a soft spot for him. She’d never tell that to Aedhan, however. Aedhan grimaced. “I avoid him whenever possible. He’s still a slimeball if you ask me, but the Council voted to let him back, so whatever. At least his porn business is shut down.” They lapsed into companionable silence. Cara leaned her head against Aedhan’s and closed her eyes while he gently rocked them to and fro in the chair. Thoughts of Jackie filtered through. Jackie, more than anyone, would have been so happy for her. She still missed her friend, but finally, with Milton’s lengthy jail sentence, and thanks to Nareen’s “help” with the Portland justice system, Cara felt a sense of closure and peace. She had a sudden vision of a laughing little girl with curly red hair running through the waiting room. A most unexpected happy future spread out wide before her. Cara turned to her dragon man and kissed him with all her heart.

Loose Id Titles by Louisa Kelley The DAUGHTERS OF DRACA Series Lydia and the Draca Cara and the Draca

Louisa Kelley Romance and science fiction took hold of Louisa Kelley at age nine, when she read Little Women and the Narnia series. She is convinced that the paranormal romance genre evolved purely for her benefit. After all, it's what's been in her heart all these years. She resides in Portland, Oregon, where in a strangely perfect combination of rainy winters and urban skyline, her writing inspiration abounds. Welcome to the sexy world that's been evolving in her fevered brain…she'd love you to join her in some over-the-top erotic adventures with the Draca; dragon shapeshifters of a very different kind. Louisa Kelley is a member of the Romance Writers of America. Find out more about Louisa’s brand of unusual paranormal romance by visiting her Web site at http://www.louisakelley.com.

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