Authors: Louise Delamore
Tags: #Vampires and Shapeshifters, #Dragons, #Suspense, #Paranormal, #Fantasy
The redhead finished messing around with the blonde’s dress and, after a brief argument, they began walking toward him. He watched the sway of their hips as they walked and felt a trickle of smoke escape his lips. He quickly lifted his cigarette to disguise the response even as he banked his internal fires. Most people would freak out if they discovered shapeshifters were real, let alone shapeshifting dragons.
His people resided in fiction as far as most of the world was concerned. However, he wasn’t fictional and the way his body was reacting to the redhead reminded him exactly how un-fictional.
There were always a few non-shifters who knew the truth, but he very much doubted these two women were in that select group. He mentally winced at the thought of the chaos that would erupt if people ever found out about the dragon who shared his skin.
Pushing thoughts of his nature aside, he turned his attention back to the women. It was always a revelation to him how different women moved their hips. Some, like the blonde, had a deliberate gyration; they were aware of the power of their sexuality and revelled in it. Others were no nonsense, stepping forward with barely a wiggle. Then there were women, like the redhead, who moved with an unconscious grace; the sway of their hips provocative simply because of its unintentional nature.
He closed his eyes, thinking about what it would feel like to run his hands over her curves, through her hair. He hadn’t indulged in a fantasy like it for years and the spontaneity took him by surprise.
“Can I help you?” A mellow, melodic voice broke into his thoughts.
His eyes sprang open. Damn, he’d been caught daydreaming. Quickly straightening, he rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. His boss would rake him over hot coals if he found out about this momentary inattention. The redhead with the melodic voice looked at him curiously, waiting for a reply.
“Yeah, I wanted to speak to whoever does the hiring around here, but the receptionist told me she was out.”
“You go on ahead, Rachael, I’ll talk to you later,” she said to the blonde a few steps behind her, then she turned back to him. “That would be me, Kait Jones.” She held out her hand.
He opened his mouth to reply, but as he took her hand the words vanished. Heat arced between them as their fingers touched.
What the hell
? He gave her hand a quick shake then let it go, not wanting to dwell on the sensations surging uncontrollably at the slight contact.
He glanced at her face wondering if she felt it too. Her bright green eyes, looking back at him out of a slightly flushed face, were dilated and unfocused. She blinked rapidly and pulled herself together. She’d been quick to recover, but not quite quick enough to hide her reaction.
“Come on, we can talk in my office.” She pushed open the heavy, metal door, embossed with the words “Fantasia Alive” and walked through.
Ryu disposed of his cigarette, tucked his sunglasses into a side pocket of his bag, and followed her through the tastefully decorated reception area and into the main part of the building. The inside was a converted warehouse, the centre split into practice areas for performers. As they walked around the edge of the main space toward the offices lining the walls, he found himself once again watching the enticing sway of her hips. Damn fine.
“My office is through here,” she said over her shoulder.
He quickly dragged his eyes upwards, hoping she hadn’t caught him staring. Not a good first impression to be making. Well, second impression, his first was daydreaming against the wall outside. He sighed, not a good start. Anyone who knew him would be shocked.
He was an excellent agent and renowned for his focus. He wasn’t as emotionally distant as some agents he knew, however much he wished that were the case, but he had the ability to push away distractions. He wished he could find his focus now.
He followed her into her office, closing the door behind him as she walked to the far side of her desk.
“I’m Kait Jones.” She shrugged off her jacket. “I forgot to introduce myself outside.”
She hadn’t, but he didn’t correct her, distracted by the body revealed as she removed her jacket. After the tantalising swell of her hips he should have expected her jacket to be hiding curves, but he hadn’t. He felt his eyes start to
shift
. He blinked quickly, forcing his eyes to return to normal.
She hung her jacket over the back of her chair and sat down, gesturing for him to take the guest chair. He looked around the office curiously as he sat, better than thinking about what she would look like if she removed the rest of her clothes. The office was painfully neat and tidy, but then given the size of it she probably didn’t have a lot of choice.
She pulled a few papers out of a tray on her desk and was grabbing a pen when it hit him.
“Did you say your name was Kait?”
She looked up, surprised. “Yes, Kait Jones.”
“Kait or Kat?” Ryu leaned forward in his chair, watching her face.
“Kait, nobody’s called me Kat for years. Do I know you?” she asked cautiously.
“Ryu MacKay. I was a year ahead of you at school. I didn’t recognise you straight away, your hair’s darkened as you’ve got older.”
Leaning back in her chair, she ran her eyes over his face, clearly trying to match a memory to the man sitting in front of her. “Ryu MacKay—I can’t believe it.”
He shrugged, oddly pleased she recalled him, despite needing prompting. “I’m not surprised you didn’t recognise me, we weren’t in the same year. I remember you because you were in the newspaper for rescuing that kid in the pool.”
Kait chuckled. “Yeah, my fifteen minutes of fame.” She straightened and looked at the paper in front of her, time for reminiscing clearly over. “What can I do for you, Ryu?”
He cleared his throat and shifted in his seat slightly. “I was hoping for a job. I do fire-eating, fire-walking…that sort of thing.”
“I remember you did street shows while we were at school. My friends and I used to look out for your performances. You were very good. I didn’t hear what you did after graduation?”
“I’ve only done street performing, but someone told me Fantasia Alive pays well and there’s regular work. I need the money so…I hoped you’d give me a shot.” He phrased his answer carefully, hoping to avoid her implied question of what he’d done since school.
“What did you do after you left school?”
Okay, so much for hoping he could avoid answering. “I joined the army but it didn’t suit.” Not the way the special unit he was part of now suited.
His team was more than work colleagues, they were family. He felt part of the unit in the most fundamental way. He rubbed the tips of his fingers against his jeans as he remembered Adrian asking him to fill in on this undercover op at the last minute. As if he’d say
no
. Now he needed to make sure he didn’t fail.
Kait finished making a note and asked, “Is this something to tide you over till you find something else, or are you looking to make it a career?”
“Does that matter?”
“Not really.” She tapped the pen against her lips as she considered him. “It helps if I know how long you plan to be with us. I would rather you were honest about needing only short-term work so I can plan ahead.”
He rolled his shoulder hoping he wasn’t making a mistake. “In that case, honestly, I’m only looking for short-term employment.”
“How long?” she asked, jotting something down.
“Couple of months maybe, I’m not really sure.”
She smiled and his gut clenched at the way her face softened. “Thank you for your honesty.”
Honesty
. If only she knew, she wouldn’t be so impressed. He cleared his throat. “No problem. So, do you have anything available?”
“You’re in luck.” Another one of those smiles. “We’ve been looking for new performers and we don’t have anyone doing fire at the moment. You could be exactly what we need.” She stacked the papers and pushed them to one side. “I remember seeing you perform at school, but I’m afraid I need to see your current skill level. Do you have your equipment here to give me a demo?”
“Yes, it’ll take me a couple of minutes to set up.”
“Great. I’ll show you where.” She pushed away from her desk and led him into the main practice area.
Once again he snuck a glance at her ass. How was he going to cope working here with that sort of temptation?
Chapter 2
Ryu opened his bag and set up the stand he’d designed for his routine. The base was a three-legged, cast-iron pot, heavy enough he didn’t need to worry about it tipping over. He filled it with some fuel and dropped in his torches.
Next, he attached a metal platform to the top and placed several flammable balls in their specially designed holders. Finally, he set his cigarette lighter where he could reach it easily.
“Ready?” He looked over at Kait who was leaning against one of the concrete pillars running the length of the room.
She was no longer alone. The practice area had emptied and his impromptu audience of curious performers relaxed while they waited for him to start.
Kait nodded. “Whenever you are.”
He rolled his shoulders and swung his arms a few times, loosening the muscles. It was a while since he’d played with fire for an audience, and he was, he reluctantly admitted, more nervous than he expected about messing up.
He reached into the pot and pulled out a torch, lighting it with the cigarette lighter. Fire surged across the tip of the torch and the familiar acrid scent of smoke hit his nose. He threw his mind into the flame, burning away distractions as heat flared in his veins.
With a bold grin at his audience, he stroked the flame across the sensitive skin of his inner arms. The intense heat left a wake of tiny copper scales as his body instinctively protected itself. The scales vanished almost instantly, leaving his skin smooth and unmarked.
He reached for a second torch. Touching the tips of the two torches together, he transferred flames to the new torch. With both lit he began a slow, almost lazy juggling pattern. Kait’s eyes followed the graceful dancing flames and he almost purred in satisfaction.
After a few more throws, he caught the shaft of one of the torches between his teeth. There were quick, indrawn breaths from those watching and he smiled inwardly at their reaction, people always loved that move.
Looking at the torch he still held, he flexed the fingers of his free hand, making sure the audience caught the movement, then he closed his fist over the flame, extinguishing it. Another satisfying gasp.
Taking the torch from between his teeth, he spun it between his fingers, making the flame flutter and surge, then he ran the flame over his tongue. Once, twice. The dragon hidden beneath his skin roared silently at the taste of fire.
Lifting the torch higher, he carefully lowered the burning tip into his mouth and closed his lips, snuffing out the torch but capturing the flame. After pulling the torch free he kept his mouth closed. The taste of fading fire dancing on his tongue was intoxicating.
Spinning both torches like a baton twirler, he flexed the small muscles at the back of his throat and blew two bright flames, reigniting first one torch then the other. There was a murmur from the crowd. Few fire-eaters could hold a flame in their mouths that long and he knew they were impressed.
Of course, he had an advantage over most performers. He didn’t need to hold the flames in his mouth. He could create his own.
Lifting both torches to his mouth he did a double extinguish, then dropped them into their stand. Concentrating on controlling the fury of his fire, he blew a small flame onto the tip of each finger. The murmur from the crowd was louder now. He looked at his audience, his eyelids low, partially hiding his eyes. A happy buzz flooded his system. In this moment he wasn’t an agent, he was simply a performer, enjoying people reacting to his skill.
The next part of the performance had a deliberately sensual edge and he let his eyes roam the audience, a slight smile on his lips. When he was sure he'd hooked them, he stroked his flaming fingertips over his throat then across his chest and stomach.
As his fingers skimmed his body, he let his gaze linger on each of the women. Let them imagine his fingers were stroking them; let them imagine their fingers were stroking him.
Finally, he reached Kait, who was watching him with fascination. His fingertips tingled as his tactic unexpectedly backfired. In his mind, he was no longer touching himself, she was. The thought made heat burst under his skin.
Desperate to regain control, he let his eyes lock onto hers. He lifted a hand and leisurely sucked the flames from the tip of each finger, his eyes never leaving hers. The dragon twitched its tail in pleasure when her chest shuddered in response.
Once all his fingers, bar one, were back to normal, he broke contact and let his eyes move to include everyone. With his burning fingertip he touched the three juggling balls resting on the platform, waiting for a rush of flame before moving onto the next. He extinguished his fingertip with a quick lick.
With the balls burning merrily, he pulled his cigarettes out of his pocket and stuck one in his mouth. He leaned forward and lit the cigarette from one of the juggling balls. The unpleasantly familiar taste of bitter molasses coated his mouth. The dragon objected to the false flames, preferring its own. Leaving the cigarette in his mouth, he scooped up the balls and began juggling.
Mentally crossing his fingers, he hoped he still had the dexterity for this next manoeuvre. Juggling one-handed, he took his cigarette out and blew a clearly defined smoke ring. The sooty scent mingled with the smoke already lingering in the air. As the ring started to dissipate he blew more, juggling the balls through the rings.
At last, he placed the balls back onto the rack. Flexing his fingers, his hands hovered over the balls before lowering to cup each flame in turn, extinguishing it.
Turning back to his audience he blew one final smoke ring, this time in the shape of a heart. Several of the women giggled and he smiled at them. Taking the cigarette, he stubbed it out on the palm of his hand. Ignoring the fragmentary flicker of pain, he threw back his arms and gave an elaborate bow. From below his lashes he watched Kait’s reaction.