Falling Dragons (#3 Moon Shadows) (2 page)

“You don’t look too good, little red. It’s not a smart idea to run around on roof tops with bare feet. Who are you running from?” His tone and expression darkened in anger, as if the thought of someone harming her angered him, not to mention he was perceptive.

“Joshua Jones’ men.”

“Joshua Jones, as in the multi-billionaire?”

She nodded against his chest. “He kidnapped me, drugged me, and locked me up. Help me, please?”

Arousal hit him like a punch in the gut as big, soft eyes pleaded with him. Damn, it had been a weakness since puberty—the soft skin, sweet scent of pretty women. Ophelia and her honey and cinnamon scent invaded his senses; her lithe little form, so soft against him. He wanted to protect her.

“You’re safe now, little red,” he promised, aware that his voice had become lower, huskier. He cleared his throat. “I won’t let them have you.” No, because he wanted her. He felt her tense in his arms. The fear returned to her eyes as she glanced down the alley.

“They are coming.”

Footsteps in the alley made him swing around. Simon watched with caution as three men in immaculate black suits and ties and dark glasses approached. By the way they held their hands, hidden just inside their unbuttoned jackets, they had concealed weapons, most likely guns.

“They have tranquilizers. One hit can knock an elephant or a demon out.” As much as he enjoyed holding her, he carefully set the girl down. Simon mentally paused. Since when had he claimed a woman in such a short span of time? Simon pushed the thought to the back of his mind. He’d deal with it later.

Standing in a ‘V’ formation to block the only exit, the middle man stepped forward. “Give us the red head. We won’t harm her,” the lead man spoke.

Simon’s body fell into a natural defensive stance. Every muscle in his body was coiled and ready for action. “Now why would three men like you want one little red head?” Simon’s eyes tracked their slightest movement, ready for any attack.

“The girl is dangerous. We need to take her.” Dangerous? He resisted the urge to snort with disbelief.

“Are you dangerous, little red?”

“Only if you count PMS as a weapon.” Ophelia’s dry reply would have amused him if he wasn’t simmering with anger for what they had already put her through. He mentally calculated his moves, and their responses, to render them unconscious before they could pull their weapons. It had been a long time since he’d killed a human, and he wasn’t about to start again now, even if they were seriously pissing him off.

“The girl isn’t going anywhere with you.” The warning in Simon’s voice was unmistakable. Opie peeked out from behind his large frame.

“Stand back, little red,” his tone calm and quiet. She noted Simon’s body was tense, coiled like a cobra ready to strike. With respect for the warrior, she obeyed.

Joshua’s three men didn’t seem to get the hint.

“Take him down and get the girl,” ordered the first man.

Simon moved in a heartbeat, before the first of Jones’ men could pull his gun. He leapt forward, hitting him straight in his solar-plexus. Simon jumped over the man as a whoosh of air expelled from the man’s lungs as he doubled over. Kicking the gun from the second man’s hand, it went clattering to the ground towards the girl. She dashed forward, scooping up the gun in her trembling hands. She needed to help him.

The third man fought Simon with some skill, but nothing compared to Simon’s. Simon thrust his fist up the side of the man’s skull; he dropped unconscious to the floor. Simon turned toward the second man. The man Simon had winded recovered and pulled his gun, jamming it into Simon’s back. Seeing her chance, Opie raised the gun, but the man stumbled just as she pulled the trigger, hitting Simon in the lower leg. Simon swung around giving her a what-the-heck-did-you-do-that-for glare.

“Oh, goddess! Simon, I’m so sorry!” He stumbled drunkenly as the drug started taking immediate effect. The second of Jones’ men laughed. Anger replaced the guilt for hitting Simon. Opie narrowed her eyes at her enemy, raised the gun, this time taking better aim, and shot both men in quick succession. Satisfied she’d hit her targets, she tossed the gun aside as the men stumbled and collapsed to the ground. Concern washed over her. Ignoring the pain in her feet, she ran across the short distance to Simon’s side as he dropped to his knees.

“You shot me!” his voice slurred.

“I didn’t mean to!” she defended. “Sorry, I’m a bad shot.”

“Car...get us home...” he mumbled, before he slumped onto the ground, unconscious. The tranquilizers seemed to take longer to work on him, than it had on her. Now what was she going to do? Holding on to Simon, she tried to teleport, but the drugs in her system were still suppressing her magic abilities. She hadn’t escaped Joshua’s clutches only to be defeated by her own stupidity. She suddenly struck upon an idea. He’d mentioned a car. She searched through Simon’s pockets. Tugging out a set of keys, she grinned. Bingo!

It had been a miracle that Simon had parked his car less than a block away. Finding the keys and electric lock, Opie walked painfully up and down clicking it until she got a response from a sleek two door Audi sports car. She drove the car right up to the alley, drawing on her inner strength to help pull the man into the car. She needed a safe place to go, and in this part of London she knew of only one place—Gemma’s.

Gemma Grey, a half elf, half human, and a dear friend, lived in a two storey townhouse south of London. She was also the only other Outer Realm creature she knew apart from the few she’d met inside Joshua’s cages.

Even though elves dwelt in the Outer Realm along with many others, they were exclusive and extremely prejudiced against anyone who was not pure blood elf. For an elf to take a non-elf mate was strictly forbidden.

“Opie? Goodness girl, are you alright? What are you doing at my door in the middle of the night?”

“Sorry, Gem, but I have no other place to go.”

“What happened to that Peter you were seeing?”

Opie growled low at the mention of her ex-boyfriend’s name. “Now’s not the time, Gem. I’m in a hell of a lot of trouble and I need your help. I shot someone.”

“You shot someone?” Gemma gaped. “With a gun?”

“Nooo, not with a real gun. It was a tranq gun.”

“A tranq gun? Where the heck did you get a tranq gun?”

“From the guy who was trying to shoot me.” Opie let out a huffed breath. “Look, we can play ‘repeat what I say’ later. Help me with this big guy. For a human he’s damned heavy.” Gem tightened the belt on her robe, following Opie out to the foot path to where the sleek Audi was parked.

“Nice car. Yours?”

“No, his.” Opie opened the passenger side door to reveal her out-for-the-count rescuer.

“Wow, Opie, you sure know how to tag ’em and bag ’em.” Gemma helped by gripping his other arm as they tugged him out between them, grunting in a very un-lady like way to get him into the house.

“Why aren’t you teleporting him inside, Opie?” Gemma asked as they struggled with the man up the steps and into the house.

“I can’t teleport. I’ve got a shit load of who-knows-what drugs in me, and until they clear out of my system, I can’t even shift. My dragon is going ape shit at the moment.”

“Drugs?” Gemma’s jaw dropped open again. “Just what has been going on with you?”

“Let’s get macho man here tucked into bed and I promise I’ll tell you everything, okay?”

It took them another good five minutes to get him up to the second floor and into Gemma’s spare room. Opie pulled off his boots and removed his extensive collection of weaponry that Gemma eyed with suspicion.

“He’s a demon hunter.”

“Oh well, it explains the arsenal of swords. Who is he other than a demon hunter?”

“No idea, but he is the man who saved my skin.” Opie removed his coat.

“Don’t stop there; I’m curious to see if the rest of him is as large as those other ‘weapons’.” Gem leaned against the vanity unit. Amusement lit her face with a smile.

“And your husband is going to approve you ogling other naked men?”

“Hell, as long as ogling is all I do, I don’t see why not.” Opie and Gem looked at each other with a smile.

“Well, I should see if he’s hurt anywhere else.” Gemma nodded in agreement, but left the undressing of the unconscious guest to Opie.

“Mummm, oh my,” murmured Gemma, at the display of a wonderfully muscled torso, and the smattering of golden hair that covered his chest and trailed down to his lower stomach. “I think you’ve found a self-conscious blond hottie. I wonder why he dyed his hair black?” Gemma moved to touch Simon’s blackened hair. A sudden surge of possessive jealousy at Gemma touching her man shot through Opie’s system.

“Alright, that’s enough. Go ogle your husband, this one’s mine!” Possessive anger sparking through her, she blinked as she realised what she’d said. Gemma cocked her head, staring at her in surprise before a knowing smile crept over her pink lips.

“Found yourself a mate, have you, Opie?” Gemma’s words startled Opie.

She glanced back down at Simon. No, it couldn’t be, could it? Every dragon was taught, from the moment they were born, how they would know their true mate the moment they touched them. It was considered a sacred blessing to find a true mate, for they were the rarest of all treasures. Something about this man called to her, but her dragon was sleepy and suppressed. She didn’t know what was going on and wouldn’t until the drugs cleared her system.

“Gem, look, I’m exhausted. I’ve got so much shit in my system I don’t know which way is up.”

Gemma threw her arm around her in comfort. “Get some sleep, and as this is my only spare bed, I’m sure Mr. Tranqed-out won’t mind sharing. From the looks of it, he will be out of it for a while. Grey isn’t due home until eight, we’ll sort everything out after.”

Opie’s shoulders sagged realising how tired her body was. Her feet were starting to slowly heal. “I’ll grab a shower. I’m cold, and you know...”

“I hate being cold,” they said in unison. Opie smiled, grateful for her friend.

By the time Opie had dragged herself out of the shower, towelled herself dry and stumbled to the bed, she collapsed onto it not caring she was naked. Her only thoughts were how warm the bed felt and how nice it smelled. She snuggled into the source of the warmth and the alluring scent, falling into a heavy sleep.

* * * *

A god awful noise pulled Opie out of a lovely, deep, restful sleep. She tried to tune out the noise and snuggled deeper into the warmth and comfort beside her, but it sounded as if a freight train was barrelling its way through the room. Cracking open her eye, she saw the naked man she lay against. Her dragon blinked awake also. Opie realised she was purring in contentment to be so close to her mate.

Mate! No, it couldn’t be. Opie jolted upright and stared down at the man lying in the bed with her. Oh boy, so much better to gaze at in the morning light, pure pleasure on the eyes. His clean cut jaw angle, dusted with a slight, blond, five o’clock shadow, gave him a ruggedly handsome appearance. His aquiline nose looked slightly crooked as if it had been broken more than once in his youth. Her gaze roamed over his most perfect body, his skin slightly pale. Every part of his body oozed strength, from his broad shoulders and strong muscled arms to his chest and torso sporting a six pack a modern man would die to possess. Opie sighed before licking her lips.

Mine, mine, mine
, purred her dragon. Opie couldn’t resist, she bent her head and sniffed, then licked his shoulder. Wonderful, salty pine flavours burst over her tongue, making her dragon urge her to mount him, bight him and bind him to her for eternity. Somehow he reminded her of the Vikings she’d read about in her human studies.

Yes, as stunning as it was, this demon hunter was her true mate. But what the hell was that noise? It rumbled out of his throat. She blinked and realised he snored, loudly.

A knock sounded at the door before it was flung open. Gemma stood there glaring at her and Simon.

“What?” She blinked at her friend.

“Can’t you hear he’s rattling the foundations? I don’t care how cute you think he is, he’s snoring the house down.”

“I’ll wake him up in a minute,” Opie growled protectively.

“Fine, just do something soon. I’m going to make some breakfast.” She turned and closed the door.

She turned her attention back to her mate, worry barrelling through her mind. She had found her one true mate. Even if he was a hunk-a-hunk, what if he didn’t want her? What if he didn’t accept he was her true mate? Or even accept she was a dragon. He was a demon hunter. Surely he would be used to unusual things. She didn’t know what to do, apart from waking him up before he woke the whole neighbourhood. She thought over what she wanted, what she needed. She needed protection from Joshua Jones. She needed her mate.

Opie chewed on her lower lip, pondering what to do. Bind him, but not as a mate. The thought struck her. She could use a dragon spell on him to keep him, or just until the threat of Jones was gone. It would also force them to get to know each other.

What choice did she have? End up in Jones’ cage again? Or have a demon hunter to protect her? Opie made her choice. She gripped his shoulders and started to shake her mate awake.

* * * *

Someone shook his shoulders. Instinctively, Simon reached out and gripped the soft, sweet smelling female against him. He rolled them, pinning her securely beneath him. Simon opened his eyes to gaze down into lovely, clear green depths. The soft slide of flesh on flesh made him realise they were both naked. No doubt her handy work, not that he minded when it felt this good.

“Is this the usual way you wake up, then?” She regarded him with heated curiosity. There wasn’t even a hint of fear in those stunning green eyes.

He liked the soft musical quality of her voice, amusement in the forefront. He remembered last night, or he assumed it was last night—the woman falling into his arms, the demon he killed, then this little beauty shot him with a tranquilizer gun.

“Do you always go around shooting men who rescue you, Ophelia Smith?”