Open Flame (Dragon's Fate) (9 page)

BOOK: Open Flame (Dragon's Fate)
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The soft ice-fire eyes that had so captivated him were the mask to the strength that resided at her core. Complexity and protectiveness of those she held dear pulsed through her.

“I don’t understand, Madoc. Time is made up. Time is not what we think at all, and after what I just did, distance is a fiction too. How else do you explain what I did?”

His gaze dropped to the bites on the side of her neck. “Fina.” He touched the small round scabs.

She trembled.

“Those explain why. I don’t know everything about what I am. I do know that life is made up of things we cannot see or understand. It does not mean they are not real.”

She stared at him, and her brow pinched. “I need more of an explanation than that.”

“I shall explain what I know of time. Humans hear time in a clock like this, tick, tock, tick, tock. For me, when I concentrate on time, I hear tick-tick-tick-tick-tick, tick-tick-tick-tick-tick.” He glanced to the left and out the window into the evening’s gray light. “All otherworldly creatures that are time benders or timewears hear something similar but with slight variations, depending on what they do with time. When you concentrate and pop distance, do you hear the ticking?”

“No. At least I don’t think so.”

He concentrated his attention on her. “Try it. You need to check on Catherine to see if she is well. To know what your loss of control did. Open the window and look. When you wish, concentrate very hard on what your body is feeling, hearing, smelling. The more you know about how your power affects you, the more control you will have over your ability.”

She bit her lip. “I do want to see what damage I did to my room and Pa.”

“Well, then, let’s.” A smile curved his lips.

She didn’t hesitate. “I wish to see my bedchamber.”

She impressed him as well. “Concentrate and tell me what you are feeling.”

A glow burst into the room. Within the glow, a small bedroom appeared.

“I hear my heart pounding. I smell the fresh rain. My stomach is tense, and there is an odd popping sound in my ears. How strange I had not noticed those things before.” She smiled at him, and understanding flashed in her eyes.

“Does your room look unharmed? Or do you wish to step through and come back?”

“I need to step through.”

“Very well.” He wrapped his fingers about her hand and squeezed lightly. “I will be right here waiting.”

Fina stepped through the light, and the glow disappeared.
Please let her be safe. Please let what she finds provide her comfort.
He blew out a tense breath, pivoted to the window and the twilight that now captured the city’s rooftops. His stomach tensed. He should have tried to go with her. Her confession of her journey repeated in his mind.
“Something came with me… The dark mist that followed me… It smothered me. Said I belonged to it…”
The dark mist… Darkness. Hudson’s darkness or another’s mist?

A flash of light reflected in the window, and he turned to the light. Fina stood by the end of the bed. Relief crashed over him, and he held in a rush of laughter.

“How did your journey go?”

“The room is fine. It smelled a bit smoky, and dampness slicked the floorboards. They must have poured water on the fire. I carefully walked to the kitchen to check and see how Pa and Catherine fared. She stood at the hearth cooking dinner, and Pa sat at the table reading. All looked well.” She walked to the vanity again.

Madoc’s heart lightened. “Good. How are you feeling?”

“Hungry, and relieved that I didn’t permanently harm my home and Catherine.”

Madoc walked to her. “I have more questions about the dark mist…but they can wait. Dinner is soon. I had some lace sent from one of Paris’s best makers. May I get some to cover your bite marks?” He wanted to show off her marks to the world, but they would not understand.

He gazed back at her in the mirror. Her eyes glistened with freshly shed tears and her lips were set in a firm line. She closed her eyes, and tears ran down her cheek. She fisted her hands on the vanity, then opened her eyes and stared at him. “If you wish.”

She just said she was relieved, and yet she cried. A contradiction he would need to resolve. Forcing her to confide in him would not be the way to do this. She needed him. He simply had to prove that to her. “One moment. I will get the package from the parlor.”

He turned from her and walked to the table, then returned to find her smoothing her hands down the silk of her bodice. “I had the dress made by a pointed-ear woman named Arias. I gave her your gray wool, and she designed your dresses from that pattern and the energy you possess. She hires these little people she calls Sprys. They have wings and huge hearts. They do the most intricate stitching.”

“The dress is beautiful, and the stitching made me think of a drawing I will do. But how would she know my energy?” She pivoted from the mirror to face him.

“Your essence is on everything you own or touch.” He placed the package on the bed and unwrapped the lace. In a long coil, he pulled out the delicate webbing. “I will need to cut this but…” He held it up. “Turn.”

She pivoted back to the mirror. He placed the lace up to her neck and wrapped her. He would spoil her. She would hate that. He would do it anyway. “Do you approve?” He fiddled with the bow he’d just tied and then stared into the mirror at her expression.

Her brow furrowed, and a smile crossed her lips, then quickly disappeared. “It will have to do.”

Did she not like the lace? “The lace is too masculine?” He laughed. “A jest. Do you prefer something else?” He pulled the lace from her neck.

She grasped the end—“No.”—and rotated to stare up at him. She inhaled deeply, and her breasts brushed against his long silk vest. “I-I…” She lowered her gaze to his neck and trembled.

He understood the desire that shone in her eyes. “You desire my blood?” He closed his eyes, and in his mind, he could feel her lips on his throat. The scrape of her teeth. Gooseflesh washed his arms. He needed her. Needed her desire of him to be a reality, not just a fantasy in his mind.

“I do.”

He opened his eyes. She licked her lips. Her gaze fixed on his neck.

“There is no harm in taking what you desire. Not from me.”

Her lower jaw jittered, and she curled her upper lip back, exposing two small, pointed teeth. Her tongue traced her lips, and she pressed herself up onto her tiptoes.

“Take what you desire.”

Her hands slipped up his chest, and her mouth closed over the pulse on his neck. Her tongue flicked, and fire flashed through his veins. He moaned and wrapped his hands about her waist.

Her pointed teeth sliced through his skin and down into his bloodstream. He flinched and arched his head away from her to give her more. Warmth speared through his flesh, and a drizzle of blood ran down his neck. He moved his hands up to his chest to protect her dress from any blood that might spill down onto her gown.

Her tongue stroked, and she pulled her teeth from his flesh. She tipped her head back. His hands followed her chin catching a few drips of blood that threatened to slide down her chin and onto her new dress, ruining her experience in tasting him.

She staggered back, and her bottom hit the vanity. She steadied herself with her hands and breathed in and out hard. Her eyes glossed over, and her expression was lost in the sensation of her first bite.

He wiped his palms down his vest, smearing his blood on his hip pockets. He reached past her to the vanity and grasped a handkerchief that lay on the wood. Blood coated her lips and slipped down her chin. He raised the cloth and held the cotton below her lips, then tossed it aside. He stared at her plush lips, red with desire for him. Titillating swollen lips, rouged red with his blood. He wanted her. Wanted to taste what she had just sampled. He wet his lips.

She lunged at him, pushing him back on the bed. Her mouth covered his, and her tongue thrust in. Blood rushed to his groin, and his cock hardened. The full skirts of her dress separated them. He would not take her. If she wanted him, she would be the aggressor. After, he would be the one to take what he wished of her body and nourish her soul. They both had so much to learn from each other. Of each other.

Her tongue lessened its assault, and she traced his lips.

Wet, salty tang. He followed her tongue with his own.

With each flick of her wet tongue, tingles shot straight to the head of his sex. His heartbeat raced, and blood pounded through his body. He wanted her mouth on his phallus. He thrust his hips up into her belly and found no relief.

Her hands slipped beneath him, and she rolled, pulling him on top of her. He stilled his hands and stared down into eyes that shifted to white-hot. She bit her lip, and her brow furrowed. She shied her head away from him. She was not ready for him. Even he felt overwhelmed.

He rolled off her and stared at the intricate plaster flowers on the ceiling.
Count the flower petals. Don’t think of how much you simply want to bury yourself in her.

She leaned toward him. “What is amiss?”

“It is almost time for dinner. You need to straighten yourself, as do I.”

She pushed away from him and sat up. She glanced over her shoulder at him. “Did I do something wrong?”

His muscles shook, and his peg strained at his pantaloons. The restraint now would result in an act more passionate and surreal later. “You did everything perfectly.”

She looked away from him.

He touched her arm and then sat up. He needed to change the subject. “Tell me more about the black mist.”

She stood and walked to the vanity. She stared into the mirror and her white eyes, then blinked and blinked again. Her eyes slowly changed back to blue. “I saw it first in my hotel. I was talking to Carmen, and the mist slipped in under the door. It frightened me, and I ran.”

He pushed from the bed and shed his long vest. He would have to wear a different one. “Anything else odd about it?”

She snorted. “Besides all of this?”

He chuckled. “Quite so.”

She was quiet for a moment. “How could I not have known Catherine betrayed my pa? I have never loved her, but after my father became ill, she took such good care of him and me.” She smoothed her hands down the pink silk. “Jonathan may know all about what she is doing.” She glanced at him through the mirror. “I fear that. It would mean that the last five years have been nothing but a lie.”

That could very well be. “The dress is stunning. Not one wrinkle or smudge.”

She bit her lip and turned to him, staring at the punctures on his neck. “Madoc, I…” Her teeth slid out again. She rolled her lip back and winced.

He traced a finger along her lips and over her fangs. “No need to say anything.”

She tore her gaze from his neck and met his eyes. “I still have questions. I still wonder if you—”

“Tomorrow I will show you all I know, and you will understand how special your father is. I never stole, Fina. I am simply an inventor, just as your father is.” He walked to the dressing screen where his long vests hung. “Pick one for me to wear tonight.”

She laughed. “Why would you ask? I don’t know what you like.”

“Exactly. If you choose one, you will have to look through them all, and by doing so, you will learn what some of my preferences are. I too will learn what yours are.”

She nodded and then walked to the screen where five different vests hung. “All long.”

“Quite so. I favor what I find comfortable Not all of my preferences are fashionable.”

She ran her fingers along each of the vests. She closed her eyes and retraced her path, then used her senses to decide. His heart skipped. She embraced this quickly.

Her fingers stopped on a plain calfskin vest. Leaning in, she inhaled. “Umm. I like this a lot. But not for a dinner.” She smiled, and her gaze caught his.

He nodded. “One of my favorites.”

She trailed her fingers over the silks again. “This one.” She grasped his black-and-red silk. “To complement your hair and mark.”

The fabric certainly did that. He walked to her and grasped the vest, then shrugged into the silk.

She reached up and straightened his lace collar, then slipped the three buttons on the front through their slits.

He couldn’t stop staring at her small hands as she did so.

The hairs on his neck stood. She cared. Even if she didn’t know it yet, those actions said she cared. She smiled up at him, then pulled away.

“I realize you are uncertain about me. I will never harm you or yours, Fina.” He smoothed his vest and pivoted away from her.

A knock came at the suite door.

“That will be Hudson.”

“Who is Hudson, Madoc?”

“He is a friend who once was the Duke of Hudson. A few years back, he transitioned to a blood drinker.”

“A blood drinker?” Her tongue traced her lips.

“He was conflicted after his wife’s death and wanted never to lose anyone again. In his grief, he investigated many otherworldly creatures, as some are immortal. He found one that used darkness and a bite to change him. He is doing better, but there is still a fight about his soul.” Madoc walked to the door. He trusted his friend. That mattered most. “I trust him. He would never do anything to harm me.”

BOOK: Open Flame (Dragon's Fate)
13.55Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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