Falling Dragons (#3 Moon Shadows) (7 page)

She shrieked as he lifted her suddenly, slapping her naked arse. “Don’t you ever shut up?”

“Hey, my arse is not your personal drum. If you want me quiet, make me!”

Knobs turned. Her scream echoed off the bathroom walls as he’d turned on the cold water full blast.

“You son of a dragon dung pile!”

“It’s just water, sweetheart.”

“You may be used to arctic blasts, but I’m not! Stop trying to turn me into an icy pole! I. Hate. The. Cold!” Her teeth chattered as she glared at him. He turned another knob and warmth seeped into the water. She sighed with relief as her shaking slowly faded. “That was not nice. Dragons and cold don’t mix well together. They left me cold in that cage just to torment me.”

“Sorry, sweetheart.” He gathered her in his arms in a tender embrace as the warmer water rained down on them both. “We’ll get them, I promise. Until then, I guess I’ll have to think of another way to silence this pretty mouth.” He tipped up her head and lowered his.

The simple kiss quickly grew heavy, passionate. He turned her, pushing her back up against the shower wall, devouring her mouth as if he’d been starving for years. Opie melted against him, moaning into his mouth as she opened for his passionate exploration. Her wits scattered to the four winds of time

He pulled back, and she whimpered at the loss of contact. “If we keep on like this we’ll never get anything done.”

She pouted. “And what’s wrong with that?”

“With Gullu demons on the loose, I need to do my job, or there won’t be a human world left to enjoy.”

“Ah, good point.” She held out her hand. “Pass me the soap, Mr. Viking King.”

Simon chuckled, handing her a Scandinavian pine scented bar. Figured, you can take the man out of the forest, but you can’t take the forest out of the man.

“I’m going to smell like you now.” She started lathering the soap to wash herself.

“And what’s wrong with that?” He mimicked her earlier question.

For once, Opie couldn’t think of one thing that was wrong. She shrugged, turning. “Can you wash my back, Mr. Viking King who won’t wear a helmet with horns?”

He chuckled. “As my little dragon wishes.” And wash her he did, running his hands over her skin and between her legs until she screamed her release for him, twice.

As much as he wanted to keep Opie naked, there was no damn way he was letting her outside in just one of his t-shirts, which she’d borrowed as they’d eaten breakfast. She’d eaten a man-sized meal of eggs, bacon, and toast. She’d do the great banquet hall of his old castle proud with her ravenous appetite.

It was dangerous, but he was becoming far more attached to the sexy ex-princess, other than the magical tether she’d created. He even enjoyed her teasing chatter, and her curiosity knew no bounds as she tried to drag him all over his compound, wanting to know every story about the objects he’d collected and had on display throughout his home. Items he’d collected over the many years of his immortal life.

Instead of answering her, he dragged her back into the bedroom and into the closet to find her something she could wear.

“What are you doing?” She peered around him as he sorted out his clothing.

“Trying to find you something to wear.”

She pulled back. “Have you forgotten how I dressed before?”

How had she dressed before?

An energy filled the air. Last time he’d felt that she’d cast that damn spell. Simon turned and his mouth dropped open. Running his gaze down her body, she was dressed in a tight leather mini skirt, and a white tank with an emerald green see through top. Shiny, black, knee-high high heeled boots completed the ensemble. She was fiddling with her hair, braiding it back.

“How by Odin’s name did you do that?”

“Dragon magic, remember? I have that ability.” She finished tying off her hair, flicking it over her shoulder, looking at him quizzically.

Simon pinched the bridge of his nose as it sank in, his anger simmering once again. “Let me guess, you aced the class where you can conjure clothes, but not break tethering spells?”

At least she had the sense to look contrite and blush. “Sorry. I’ll wear your clothes if you want.” She picked up his shirt from the floor.

Folding his arms, he glowered. Like hell he’d let her out wearing this, she’d attract even more male attention than if she’d stayed naked.

“Do you always dress like this? Can you change into something a little less revealing?”

Her brow dipped and she mimicked his folded arms, pushing up her breasts in the lacy white number she had on under the tank. “Who are you, my father or a priest?”

Simon bit back the sudden urge to growl. “With the urge to throw you down and fuck you six ways to Sunday, I couldn’t feel less fatherly or saintly. You’ll attract too much attention.”

She arched a ginger eyebrow. “Surely you won’t be jealous if some hot guy likes what he sees?”

Rather than take her bait and threaten to disembowel any guy who dares to look at her the wrong way, he turned and stomped away, his mood sour as he finished dressing, making sure he had all his little gadgets hidden away.

Opie sat on the bed and, much to his relief, she’d changed. Her skirt was longer, even if she did keep those sexy boots with the fuck me heels. Her top was one of those faux plaid school girl things and she had her hair in pigtails.

Simon grunted. At least she’d covered more flesh, even though it didn’t stop his stupid cock from hardening, or his wanting to follow through on his threat to toss her down and sink balls deep inside her again.

“Right, let’s weapon up and then get rid of your problem so I can get rid of mine.”

* * * *

Lost in her own thoughts of Simon’s reaction to her clothing, she smiled inwardly at his sour mood and lustful glances. All wonderful signs of his jealousy and slow forming bond. She liked the way he held her hand, subconsciously or not. He always seemed to be touching her in some way.

His arm around her waist as they walked through the London streets, he watched other men check her out and glared daggers at them. But what would happen once he eliminated the danger from her life? With his skill, no doubt he would. She shoved it from her mind and enjoyed the rare peek of clear sky in London CBD.

Opie finally took stock of where they were walking after they’d parked Simon’s Audi sports car in a little spot just outside of the London CBD. It seemed he had little pockets of land and property all over London.

She glanced up at the tall skyscraper they were approaching. Her eyes widened as it sank in. “Oh. My. Goddess! You were serious about rocking-up to Jones’ door!? There’s no way I’m going back there!” Opie folded her arms and dug in her heels, bringing Simon to a stop. He turned back to her.

The Fates had royally fucked up in giving her a stupid, pig headed stubborn mate. So he was the most amazing lover she’d ever had. So what if his body was like every woman’s wet dream? He was clearly several bats short of a belfry!

Simon moved in closer, wrapped a strong arm around her, and leaned down. “You know, sweetheart...” Using the weight and strength of his body he pushed her forward, through the throng of Londoner’s going about their morning business. “...sometimes it’s better to face your demons, in this case Joshua Jones, head on. After all, you tethered yourself to me, so you have to have some faith I can protect you from him. If not, you could turn into your pretty dragon and eat him.”

Opie scrunched up her nose in utter disgust. “Ewww, talk about toxic junk food. I’ve never eaten a human and I’m not about to start.”

His deep, husky laugh sent renewed erotic chills down her spine, making her lower stomach clench and her clit pulse. His hand slid around her waist, skimming over her stomach, stopping just above her pubic bone. She bit back a moan.

“No, I didn’t think you ever could, but you did enjoy it when I ate you, sweetheart. So sweet and tasty. When we’re done here, we’re going back so I can feast once more.”

Damn him! Her dragon jumped up and down with glee. The stupid reptile didn’t care where they went as long as it was with their mate.

“This is too dangerous!” she blurted out for the benefit of both her dragon and Simon. She realised it wasn’t herself she feared for, but for her one true mate. If she lost Simon, life would be...

“Sweetheart, I’ve faced worse things in my life than what’s hiding behind those doors.” Opie could have sworn she whimpered, but wasn’t sure over the pounding drum of her heart as they drew closer to the two revolving doors leading to the front entrance. “So trust me.” His last three words were spoken in a soft soothing tone.

‘So trust me’. I need to have more faith in him. I have no choice but to trust him, as I already have done with my heart and body.

She nodded. “They have
bolcasters
over every part of the building.”

Bolcasters
were enchanted objects. They could be anything from a toilet brush to a stone, placed by anyone who wanted to stop spell casting and teleportation within a certain area.

“
Bolcasters
don’t bother me. I don’t fight dirty with spells and magic like some. Plus, it will stop you from getting into more trouble.”

Opie bristled at his reference that she was the reason he was here in the first place.

“Me? In trouble? You’re the one dragging me into the viper’s nest,” she hissed. “Had I not tethered us, would you have helped me?”

Simon stopped, staring down at her for a long moment before shaking his head. Pain sliced deeper than she liked when he didn’t answer right away. “Maybe.” His calm expression gave nothing away. “We’re here, might as well slice two birds with one sword. My instincts are telling me there is more going on here than simply kidnapping a pretty dragon princess.”

The building loomed before swallowing them whole as they moved through the doors, gliding to a stop as Simon took in the sights of the impressive modern architecture. Still, the whole place reeked of pure evil. A shudder ran down her spine.

Humans passed through, and she was sure they were completely unaware of just what lurked within the building’s bowels.

“Well, that’s a charming piece of artwork.” Simon’s sarcastic tone made her eye the huge grotesque statue. It stood ten feet tall and contained several figures twisted in some frozen, eternal dance. Water flowed from open spots into a six-sided pond.

A low vibration coming from her throat made her realise she was growling.

“Don’t start smoking on me again, sweetheart,” Simon muttered under his breath. With his arm still around her waist, he moved them towards the reception desk. “And put a smile on your pretty face, we’ve got cameras on us from all angles.”

She glanced up to see his smile not reaching his eyes. He let her go for a moment to smile charmingly down at the receptionist. She was a thin, reedy looking girl with bleached blonde hair, and breasts so fake they looked like cantaloupes glued to her chest. They were held in only by the tight fabric stretching across them.

“Hello, lovely, could you please inform Mr. Jones that Ophelia Dragon and Simon Hunter are here to see him?”

Opie held in her snort at Simon’s ‘lovely’ reference. The half-silicone human female batted her heavily mascaraed eyelashes at him. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think Mr. Jones is in today.”

From the corner of Opie’s eye she spotted the elevator door opening, and five men in black suits poured out. Opie laid a possessive hand over Simon’s arm and kept her smile sweet, ignoring the glare from implant girl.

“Honey, don’t bother with her, our escort has just arrived.”

Simon turned. “Oh wonderful.” Without a backward glance they moved to meet the welcoming committee. She slipped her hand into his, partially because she was shaking in fear of the men, but more so from the fear of being torn away from him. She wasn’t sure how her dragon would handle being separated from him, especially with the tether still in place.

“Are you going to take us to your boss, or do we need to find our own way?”

One of the suited men reopened the lift. “Mr Jones will see you, of course. This way.”

Simon nodded down at her, his hand tightening on hers. He gave her a smile of reassurance. Confidence shone in his sexy blue gaze. Despite her still pounding heart, and the fear they may not get out of here alive, she did trust him, completely.

* * * *

On the outside, Simon kept his cool, his mind sharp, alert to everything around him. His every muscle coiled and ready to act in a split second of a heartbeat. The trembling in Opie’s hand worried him. He pulled her a little closer, holding her hand a little tighter to reassure her everything would be fine.

He kept note of how many floors they actually went up, ignoring the uncomfortable silence in the confined space. Opie let out a little breath when the doors finally opened again and they stepped out into a large corridor. He grinned down at her, but he could see the apprehension in her eyes and her stiff body language. She sniffed at the air, her pert little nose scrunched in clear disgust.

“Smells like demons wiped their arses on the walls,” she muttered under her breath.

He did note the odd odour, musty with a hint of sulphur.

The gold, red and brown walls were lined. To some, it would seem just elaborate decorations, but Simon knew enough about demonology to know they were control and protection symbols. Opie stared at them too as they passed through large double doors, heavily decorated with more protection symbols carved into the ancient gopher wood.

Jones’ wealth meant little. The human had no idea the danger he put himself in playing around with things he would never truly understand. Play with venomous snakes long enough, guaranteed they will turn on you and strike.

The fool.

The seal hissed as the doors opened, admitting them entrance to the even more opulent office of Joshua Jones. Twelve foot high glass showed off a spectacular view of London’s business district and Thames River. The human in question leaned back, smug amusement over his aging face.

“Come in, come in, and don’t be shy.” He rose to his feet. “This is most unexpected. Welcome back, Ophelia.”