FireDrake (10 page)

Bianca D’Arc

dragon. He’d often wondered what went on behind those closed doors, but that was one of the few areas into which even the Spymaster of the Jinn Brotherhood was not privy.

“Leaving that aside for now—” Declan sent his dragon partner a hard look, “—I’m impressed that you felt this threat strong enough to come here in person, Drake. It speaks both of your character and the seriousness of our current situation.” Drake was shocked by Declan’s words, but the older knight moved on without pause. “We’ll need to augment the dragons’ plans. Jenet, after dinner I want you to give us the details of the schedule you and the younger dragons have worked out. But for now, let’s continue our meal.”

Declan lifted his glass and waited for those around him to do the same. “To our son, returned to us at last.”

The toast was echoed by the rest of the family and Drake found himself drinking with a sense of unreality that puzzled him. How had Declan taken control of the situation yet again? And why wasn’t Drake bristling as he always had when his blood-father took charge to bring them back to the matter at hand?

No, instead of anger, Drake felt something like relief that Declan had so easily steered the conversation away from such weighty matters. It was hard enough just being with his family after so many years. Discussing the dire threat to the Draconian royal family and the machinations of kings was better left to another day.

Drake watched as his family drank to his return, a sense of completeness enveloping him. He’d come full circle now. His blood-father was no longer the ogre he remembered and Drake had to ask himself if Declan really ever was quite as bad as Drake recalled.

Drake raised his glass when the others had finished sipping and gathered their attention. It was a heady feeling. They’d never paid such attention to him as a youngster, but he’d grown up and learned many things in his travels. How to play to a crowd was second nature to an accomplished Jinn troubadour such as himself.

“And to you all. The Mother of All knows you deserve special commendations for putting up with me as a teen.” He shook his head ruefully. “I never expected to be welcomed back this way and I’m both humbled and grateful.”

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Drake drank deeply of the sweet wine, shocked to see tears gathered in not only his mother’s eyes, but Ren’s as well. Even Declan had a suspicious sparkle in his blue eyes, but Drake pretended not to notice the emotional response his words had conjured.

The rest of the meal passed with considerably less tension and Drake found himself enjoying the quiet meal with his family a lot more than he’d expected. So much had changed while he’d been away, yet much had stayed the same.

Drake bounded out of bed the next morning, feeling better than he had for a very long time. It was barely dawn when he ambled down the High Road in Castleton toward a quaint inn owned by the Pritchards. He remembered it from when he was a boy. They were famous for their confections and he was looking forward to learning if they still made the best sweet breakfast buns he’d ever tasted.

He entered the common room and spotted Krysta. She wore her grey Guard uniform, but her hair sparkled in the rising sun and her creamy complexion beckoned him to lick her skin, just to see if she tasted as good as she looked.

But that would come later.

For now, breakfast was the order of the day. Charming this special woman, the task at hand.

“Good morning, Krysta.” His voice was his sharpest weapon, honed over years on the bardic road. He knew he could make a woman shiver with just the right inflection and it seemed Krysta was not immune. He saw her shoulders shimmy as his voice rolled over her and smiled in satisfaction.

“I wasn’t sure you’d make it.”

“When I make a promise, I keep it.” He sat at the small table, brushing his knees against hers under the table.

“I’ll remember that.” She sipped at her steaming cup of tea, her grey eyes watching him through the mist.

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The serving girl came over to them and Drake smiled at the youngster, placing his order. He learned that she was the youngest daughter of the house, Mary Pritchard, and by the time she left the table, she was grinning and promising to give his compliments to her father and mother.

“You certainly have a way with the ladies. Even the young ones.”

Drake winked. “I used to charm honey buns from Mrs. Pritchard when I was a boy.

She makes the best pastries I have ever tasted anywhere in all the lands.”

“I know.” Krysta looked a wee bit guilty. “I have a sweet tooth myself.”

“Ah…” Drake sat back in his chair, watching her, “…so that’s why you chose Pritchard’s.”

“I confess I have a weakness for Mrs. Pritchard’s baking. Much to my chagrin.

Eating here the past few months, I’ve gained at least five pounds, so I try to limit it to once a week.”

Drake inspected her ultra-feminine form. “Well, I certainly can’t tell.” His gaze shifted to her lovely grey eyes. “I like a woman with curves.”

She laughed outright, charming him with her candor. “You are such a rogue.” She didn’t flirt like the other women he’d known. She meant every word, and not in a teasing way. Drake sat up, eager to disprove his reputation for some reason, though he’d never felt the need to defend himself before.

“I’ve been many places and seen many things. I’ve done a lot I would never relate to my mother⎯” he paused to chuckle, “⎯but I’ve never played a woman false. I’m not quite a rogue, though I admit, I’m probably very close.”

“Well at least you’re honest.” She leaned back, regarding him. “I like that about you.”

“Honest and true to my word.” His eyes lit with a playful twinkle as he nodded.

“You’ve learned that much about me already. What will you do when you discover I’m loyal, faithful and steadfast, I wonder?”

“Pat you on the head and toss a stick for you to fetch?”

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He burst out laughing. “I’m not a dog, but around you I definitely feel frisky as a puppy.” He pitched his voice low, to skate along her nerves. He knew he’d hit his mark when he saw her shiver.

He would have followed up on the small victory, but Mrs. Pritchard bustled over.

Drake stood to receive her friendly hug as she marveled over how much he’d grown. The older woman had been one of his favorite people in Castleton, both for her excellent cooking and her understanding wisdom. Many times, he’d sought refuge here after one of his father’s rebuffs. Mrs. Pritchard fussed over him, nearly coming to tears when he leaned down to kiss the motherly lady on the cheek.

It touched him deeply that she remembered him. He’d thought at the time he was just one of many youngsters who clamored after the woman, eager for one of her sticky buns.

He was pleased to learn she’d felt genuine affection for the troubled boy he’d been and seemed proud of the man he’d become.

They talked for a few moments before the business of the inn called her away. When he sat back down at the table, Krysta was eyeing him.

“She loves you.”

“I love her too. She’s a very special woman.” He tossed his napkin on his lap, trying to be nonchalant. The truth was, the woman’s greeting had thrown him more than he liked. His emotions were much closer to the surface than usual. “She has a soft heart and a kindness for strays. Hmm. Maybe I am a dog after all.” He chuckled, settling back in his chair as little Mary brought their breakfast on two metal plates.

They ate and chatted while Krysta fell a little more under Drake’s spell. She felt the impact of his cultured voice and knew he was fully aware of how it affected people.

Especially females.

Her insides jumped as she watched him lick the honey residue from the sticky buns off his elegant fingers. They were tapered and long, with little calluses from playing stringed instruments. The calluses were easy to see on the tips of his fingers as they www.samhainpublishing.com 71

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moved, both nimble and dexterous. She wondered what such talented fingers would feel like on her skin. Would he play her body as skillfully as he played his lute?

A rush of disquiet filled her. She’d made love with Mace. She shouldn’t be thinking of another man in a carnal way so soon after making a commitment to the young knight.

It was disloyal, and it wasn’t like her at all. She didn’t indulge in casual sex. Sharing herself with Mace represented a very real step forward toward a relationship with him.

Krysta didn’t rush into intimacy. Not since her foolish youth. But Mace was a different story. After only knowing him a short time, she felt strongly enough about him to trust him with her body. That was a big step for her and one she didn’t take lightly. So why then was she feeling this unreasonable attraction for the roguish bard?

She knew full well Drake could have his pick of women and she’d be damned if she’d be just another notch in his belt. Still, Drake didn’t strike her as insincere, and he certainly wasn’t a cad. He was honest about his appreciation of women, regardless of their age. She’d seen him treat the young Pritchard girl with the same teasing respect he gave her mother, the same caring concern and desire to make them smile. He might be a rogue, but he was a kind one and that combination, Krysta discovered, was dangerous indeed.

“So what fills your days, Krysta? I know you’re a Guard, but are you always on patrol or have you some other duty?”

The question drew her back to the moment and reminded her of her duty. Judging by the sun’s position, she had only a short time left before she must begin her work day.

“I train the new recruits in weaponless fighting. Many of us share that duty, but in fact—” she wiped her mouth as she finished her breakfast, “—today it’s my turn. I have a nice class of talented young men and women waiting for me.”

“Ah, Jinn freehand fighting? That’s a skill I learned many years ago, though I was too large for many of the more intricate movements—or so the armsmaster said.”

“You might be at that.” She looked him over with a considering eye. “I’d almost forgotten that Drake of the Five Lands was adopted of the Jinn. What clan are you?”

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“Black Dragon.” He said it casually, though they both knew the Black Dragon Clan ruled all of the many Jinn clans. They were the ones responsible for calling most of the wandering Jinn clans together here in Draconia. “I was lucky enough to have gained their notice when I was still just a boy, away from home for the first time with no knowledge of the wider world. Without their guidance, who knows where I’d be today?”

“I imagine you always land on your feet, Drake.” She smiled at the picture he painted with his words of him as a youth.

He bowed his head in acknowledgement of her small praise. “It is a skill I’ve learned through much trial and painful error.”

“Speaking of learning—” she glanced out the window again, “—I must go see to my students.” She stood from the table and reached for the small purse at her belt, but Drake stayed her hand. His gentle touch jolted her, the warmth of his fingers causing little tingles on her skin.

“Allow me.” He produced a silver coin from his own pocket, tossing it onto the table. It was much more than the simple fare was worth, but she knew he was probably leaving the extra for little Mary Pritchard, or trying to impress Krysta with his largess.

Probably a little of both. Krysta smiled and thanked him as gracefully as she could manage.

Drake towered over her as they left the inn, reminding her of her femininity in a very basic way. Her limbs almost shook with the tingling heat of awareness. He was a tall man, but not brawny. No, he had the sleek muscles of the jungle cat, primed and ready to strike, though his loping stride was deceptively lazy.

“I’ll walk you to the garrison, if you don’t mind the company. I’m going that way and find I’m reluctant to see our time together end.”

Oh, he
was
charming.

“I don’t mind. But Drake…” her conscience rose to remind her of Mace, “…I have to tell you, I’m committed to Mace. I don’t want to lead you on or give you false hope.”

“Committed, huh?” He seemed to ponder her meaning. “Has he offered you marriage?”

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“No.” She shifted uncomfortably as they walked. “But I’ve committed to learning where the mutual attraction leads. I’m not in the market for a husband—or two.”

“I’m glad you’re aware what mating with a knight entails.” She did, but only vaguely. Still, she wouldn’t get into that discussion with Drake. Mace would tell her all about it, if they ever got to that point. “I’ll be brutally honest with you, Krysta.” He stopped walking, tugging on her wrist to make her face him. “I don’t think I can stay away. You’re unlike any woman I’ve ever known before and I want whatever time you’ll give me.”

“I won’t stop seeing Mace.”

“I didn’t ask you to. But surely you can spare a few minutes to share a meal with me now and again? I won’t deny your right to choose the man you want, but I’ll do everything in my power to convince you I’m the right man.”

He squeezed her hands, drawing her closer. She knew he was going to kiss her, and try as she might, she couldn’t work up enough outrage to push him away.

His lips were gentle at first, coaxing a response. Desire flooded her as his tongue swept inward, invading, conquering, but in the most delightful way. He pulled her into his arms and she felt at home there. Dangerously so.

They were on a public thoroughfare but she was oblivious to the movement around them, the rest of the city just starting to stir from their homes and begin the day. Drake plundered her mouth, stirring her to passion even as his hands swept down to cup her backside. His hands were indeed talented and she longed to know what they’d feel like on her skin.

The thought roused her enough to push away. He let her go, drawing from her lips at the last possible moment. His blue gaze questioned, but she had no answers.