Chace understood why Mr. Nothing pointed him in the direction of the shifter slayer without fully knowing how to deal with her.
This time, his shifting was involuntary, an instinctive reaction to his emotional turmoil. He’d never hurt anyone in his life and yet, dangling the helpless girl over the cliff, it had taken every piece of his willpower not to drop her. He was torn between wanting to strangle her and to make love to her, an emotional powder keg he didn’t think possible before meeting her.
That she was so nonchalant about hunting down and slaughtering shifters who were just trying to live normal lives infuriated him. Distracted by the intense attraction between them, the chemistry that made him topple into bed with her without bothering to ask her name, he didn’t know what to think.
Skylar. It was a perfect name for someone whose eyes were the color of the heavens.
What part of what she said was true and what part was a lie? He was too angry to try to figure it out.
Chace barely registered the pain rippling through him as he morphed. He needed to feel the sky, to release the emotion inside him before he threw the only lead he had to what was happening to the shifters off a cliff.
He launched into the air and hovered beside a tree, trying to gauge his size. Unless the pinecones had grown huge over night, he was about the size of a dragonfly this time. He alighted on a pinecone for a moment. The scent of pine and nature soothed him somewhat, and he let his dragon senses absorb everything around him. He needed to replace the womanly scent of Skylar and the memory of how soft her skin was. All she did was piss him off, and he didn’t think he’d be able to stay human long enough to question her, if he didn’t erase all traces of her from his system.
The calm of nature worked into his system slowly, and he released the anger that was boiling over. When he felt under control again, he left the pinecone and soared upward. Too small to deal with the wind currents high above the mountains, he kept to the treetops and explored the mountain where he’d placed the cabin with his magic.
Eventually, he managed to center himself and fluttered back towards the cabin. He landed gently on the windowsill and peered into his home, wanting to gauge his instinctive response to see if he was ready to deal with her yet.
She’d managed to make a mess in the time he was gone, a true accomplishment, given that he’d laid out strict orders for the cabin’s magic. He’d told the cabin to make room for her to go to the restroom only but to keep everything else out of reach. Somehow, she’d managed to knock over a chair, pushed the ottoman out of place, smashed a vase that used to be on the stand next to the couch …
Her wrists were bleeding. She was working hard to get free, no doubt anxious to get away from the monster she considered him.
She has no mercy for our kind, he reminded himself. His eyes followed the blood from her wrists down her forearms, and he forbade himself from feeling bad about it, not when she was helping slaughter shifters.
But he still did. She was frantic, a trapped animal, one whose lies about not hurting the others he was almost able to believe, even if he didn’t want to. He’d seek out Mr. Nothing again later, but right now he wanted to know more about the woman in his home.
His magic returned to his control, settling within him. Chace flew away from the window, back to the jeans he’d left in the grass when he’d shifted.
His dragonfly body expanded, the tearing and reshaping of sinew, muscles and skin making him grimace. At last, he was human again. He waited for his wings to be absorbed into his body then tugged on his jeans and drew a deep breath.
As long as he stayed calm dealing with the slayer, he wasn’t going to run away to morph.
Chace took another moment to settle the last vestiges of his anger then strode towards his cabin. He flinched at the sound of something else smashing to the ground a second before he opened the door.
Determined, he entered his home and surveyed the damage.
Skylar twisted to face him, apprehension crossing her features. She was gorgeous, with large blue eyes lined with feathery lashes, high cheekbones and an oval face with olive complexion framed by dark hair. Above average height and trim, he’d intimately experienced the lean muscles of her body. Remembering how well they fit together made his blood stir.
He found himself looking too long and closed the door. She’d been in his place for all of an hour, and already, he was struggling not to breathe in her heady scent.
Chace crossed the room to the stove, aware the mountaintop got downright cold at night. He ordered the magic in the cabin to clean up her mess and right all his furniture where he preferred it.
Her gasp confirmed that the furniture was moving back into place, as if possessed. Chace straightened from placing wood into the fireplace, debating. After a moment, he grudgingly ordered the magic of the cabin to make her wrist chains so they wouldn’t hurt her.
When he turned, she was staring up at her hands, puzzled. The interior of the metal cuffs were lined with pink fleece and their edges topped with pink feathers.
Pink? Really? There were days when even his magic cabin pissed him off. It was a reminder that he and the magic coexisted – intertwined but still independent.
Irritated, he moved towards his prisoner. She moved away instinctively. Chace preferred to be in contact with her and gripped her hips, pulling her into his body. Her tight ass settled against his hips in a way that was almost too distracting while her frizzy hair tickled his chin.
“Stay,” he ordered.
She mumbled something he couldn’t hear but didn’t move. With her body resting against his, he reached up and tugged at the chains. The magic obeyed his command, and her shackles went through the hook holding them up. He wrapped one arm around her shoulders to keep her in place then lifted one arm to see the damage.
She’d rubbed the skin right off her wrists. It looked as though she’d tried to pull one hand through a cuff. It was raw and red all the way to her thumb knuckle.
“This is just foolish,” he said with more heat than he intended. “You’ve got nowhere to go, and the cabin won’t let you out anyway. Why would you do this?”
Her breathing was erratic, her body tense.
“I’ll fix you up once and that’s it,” he said.
“You have a magic cabin.” There was both awe and confusion in her voice.
He placed one arm around her waist to keep her warm, soft body close and maneuvered her close to the fire, jostling her without letting her fall.
He sat on a stool then motioned for her to sit in front of him on the ground. She glanced around then did so, seating herself cross-legged.
Chace took one hand and summoned the supplies he’d need to fix her up. They appeared on the table beside him, and she winced.
“How many shifters have you helped slaughter?” he asked. He felt her gaze on him, her consternation clear.
“None.”
“But you admitted to helping others track them.”
“Yeah. We haven’t had to kill any, though. We just take them in.”
“To where?” He pulled one hand free of its manacle and carefully began to clean her forearm and wrist of blood.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Fixing you up.”
“But why?” The exasperation in her voice was enough to make him look up. Meeting her gaze was dangerous, because the familiar bloom of desire flared to life within him.
“Obviously, I don’t want you dead,” he said, amused.
That just seemed to confuse her more, and she shook her head.
“Where do you take the shifters?” he asked again.
“Somewhere where they can be rehabilitated and made safe for human society,” she replied.
“Rehabilitated?” he repeated, lowering his hands. “What right do you have to do that?”
“What right do you shifters have to set buildings on fire and kill innocent humans?” she retorted.
“I have never hurt anyone. Not at the storage facility in Phoenix or anywhere else!”
“Whatever.” She yanked her hand back from him. “Don’t bother to fix me. You’ll just fry me anyway when you get what you want.” She stood and went back to the hook in the middle of the cabin. The manacle didn’t respond to her, and she tugged at it in frustration.
His magic was slipping again, getting ready to turn him into his other form whether or not he wanted it to. Chace closed his eyes for a moment, willing himself to calm down. The fire was already growing, a sign he hadn’t been able to make it five minutes with the slayer before his emotions got the best of him.
“Sorry.” There was a tremor of fear in her voice. “Just, um, don’t flip out.”
He was tense enough that her soft touch on his forearm made him snap. Chace snatched her arm and twisted, yanking her to the ground and holding her in place beneath him with his weight. He pinned her wrists above her head
Fear fluttered across Skylar’s expression. She didn’t try to fight him but gazed up at him with blue eyes that helped ground him, her breathing irregular and face flushed. Her tongue flickered out to wet her lips, drawing his gaze towards the plush lips he’d experienced several times already.
The tension between them was thick, his body remembering too clearly what it had been like to lie on top of her like this before, except without clothes. Her large breasts were pressed to his chest, her rounded hips against his crotch. He was inches from the mouth whose flavor made him want to dive in head first, even if she meant to kill him later.
“No dragon craziness,” she whispered. “Okay? Just … stay like this until you’re … uh, calm.”
Chace liked the way her body felt too much to argue. He lowered his head to her neck. She flinched, and the pulse at her neck was rapid.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, sensing her fear. Something about you drives me insane.
Closing his eyes, he focused on the musk of her skin and the peach essence of her hair, letting it wind through his senses the way the world did when he was in his dragon form. It stirred his blood in a different way than he was used to, tugging at his magic like his emotions did – without releasing it. He listened to her uneven breathing for a long moment before he realized something very, very different was going on inside him.
The magic was receding. In his thousand years as a shifter, it had never backed off. Some days, he was able to postpone the inevitable shifting until he was some place safe and private, where no one would see or get hurt. But it had never, ever calmed of its own accord like this.
Was it … could it be her? The dragon slayer who came to kill him?
That makes no sense.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Right now? Praying you don’t eat me.” Her light tone indicated she tried to joke, but he heard her fear. “Sex makes you calm. If you need a little peck on the cheek or something, I’m game. Rather that than be turned into fried chicken.”
“Don’t tempt me.” His body surged with desire in response to her tongue-in-cheek offer. He wasn’t at all certain he’d have the same sense of humor in a similar situation, but her disarming delivery and soft tone took the edge off his tumbling emotions.
He digested her words, realizing she was right. Once before, the night they’d met, she’d managed to soothe the dragon side of him while they made love. Was it her or was it what she said? Sex? Physical contact? Something else?
It didn’t seem possible that she was so unaware of what shifters were really like or what effect she had on him. Was she that crafty of a liar? Reviewing what little he knew of her, he was having trouble convincing himself either way. She’d taken his bait at the warehouses and surrendered to save the innocent people she was convinced he went around eating for dinner. That took guts, especially after he burned through her lasso.
But she openly admitted that she’d kill shifters if they didn’t go with her voluntarily.
“Something isn’t right here,” he said finally.
Whatever she was and whatever she lied about, she was scared right now, and no part of him pitied her. Fear was the least she deserved for hurting his kind.
Chace assessed his magic once more, unable to accept that it had just decided to go dormant. A glance at his hands indicated that his nails were back to normal.
Unable to account for what was causing his magic to retreat, he eased off Skylar’s body, straddling her hips and releasing his grip on her hands. He sat back and gazed down at her, not at all certain what to think of someone who seemed both unaware of the horrors she committed yet determined to continue doing them.
She moved slowly around the lethal predator, and sat up, pulling her legs out from under him.
“Fix your wrists,” he told her curtly, motioning to the first aid kit on the table behind her. “Then it’s back to hanging from the ceiling.”
“Great. Can’t wait.” The sarcasm in her voice was lost in its breathless quality. Her hands trembled as she reached up to grab the kit.
“This rehabilitation,” he started. “You brainwash people? Pull out their fangs?”
“I don’t know,” she said, focus on her wrists. “My job is just to find you and turn you over. I don’t think the rehab program is that bad. We all go through some form of it before we’re allowed to integrate into society.”
“What do you mean?”
“Slayers. We’re born with magic that lets us find you guys. We have to be trained, too, so we can use our magic right. It’s done in the same facility as the rehab program. We call it the reprogramming tank.”
“Reprogramming.” He wasn’t able to keep the anger out of his voice. “I wasn’t born a shifter.”
She looked up at him. “Really?”
“Yeah, really,” he replied.
“Maybe that’s why I can’t track you,” she murmured pensively. “Or rather, I can only when I’m near enough for you to turn me into fried chicken.”
“Good to know.”
Her gaze flickered to him then away again quickly.
“If I leave, do I need to tie you or will you stay here?” he asked.
“Well …” she glanced around. “You’re totally freaking me out.”
At least she’s honest. It was a strange combination: honesty and lethality.
He said nothing, though, watching her expertly and quickly dress her wrists. By the smooth, practiced motions, he began to think that this was part of her training.
“What did your family think of your reprogramming?” he asked, unable to pinpoint what was off about her. “You leave the house normal and come back with a taste for blood?”
“I don’t have a family,” she replied easily.
“You did at some point.”
“They died when I was young. Probably got eaten by moody dragons,” she said pointedly.
This keeps getting weirder. Something wasn’t right about her story, and he wasn’t entirely certain she was going to be any help. After all his years alive, he knew a thing or two about the darker side of humanity. She didn’t question the story she’d been fed, but he did.
“What if you did have a family?” he pushed. “What if your reprogramming just made you forget them?”
“You think I was brainwashed,” she said, a troubled expression flickering across her features.
“Sure looks that way. I’ve got a thousand years of knowledge under my belt, and this shit you’re saying makes no sense. You’ve never questioned any of this?”
“Yeah.” The expression she gave him was thoughtful. “But what does it matter? My job is to keep you from eating people.”
“I don’t …” His magic stirred with his anger.
She froze, staring at him, fear in her gaze again.
Chace stood and crossed to the door. This time, the magic ignored his silent plea to leave him alone. What made it listen while he was lying on top of her and not the next time he asked?
“By the way, this is not a dragon scale.” He yanked open a drawer of the small desk near the door and pulled free the weapon she’d tried to use against him. “This is sandstone. Dragon scales aren’t rigid like this. They shift and bend. They have to – it’s part of my defensive mechanism.”
He snapped the stone knife in his hands and dropped it on the desk.
“Okay. Chill, dragon” she whispered. She set aside the first aid kit, her wrists bandaged.
Chace sensed she was debating making a run for it. He reached down and took her forearms, pulling her to her feet.
“Don’t,” he warned her.
The connection of her skin made the magic inside him pause while it incited his blood.
“Being good,” she responded. “Just tie me up and do your thing.”
“Ditching the girl scout thing again, I see,” he observed, unable to help the smile that tugged free.
“If that what it takes,” she retorted, face growing red. “I definitely didn’t not enjoy it last time.”
She ducked her head, confusion on her features. She seemed hard to ruffle, confident and unflappable with a quick wit, which made her blush all the more charming. He had a feeling she’d respond to his kiss just as eagerly as she had before, even if she was also scared of him transforming into the human-eating beast she considered him.
He willed the manacles to reform around her wrists then lifted her hands above her head quickly enough to put her off balance. Her body collided with his, and sparks of a different kind of fire went though him. Her breath caught, her gaze on his mouth, and they stood frozen for a moment.
Chace waited for the hook to move and slide under the chain between her bound hands then traced her arms and sides again, his palms settling on her hips.
Her breathing was erratic, like his, the faint scent of her arousal apparent to his delicate senses.
Skylar met his gaze, studying him closely. “You’re starting to turn again.”
“I could just leave,” he said, the offer clear.
“You could,” she agreed, the light of need in her eyes. “Or you could untie me and I can help you calm down.”
I need to keep my distance. He hesitated.
It was enough of a pause for her to lean forward and brush her lips to his again.
“Is this some ruse to escape?” he asked.
“One way to find out,” she said cheerfully.
Chace withdrew, eyeing her. She was smiling.
“I have an idea,” he decided.
Before she could ask him about it, he kissed her, hard and quick, his arms wrapping around her. She responded with the hunger he anticipated that made his arousal turn near-feral.
“Let me down,” she ordered softly against his mouth.
“Hell no.”
He kissed her quiet then shifted his hands down, tracing her hips and ass before moving to unfasten her pants. He broke away to push them down her body and took off her shoes to slide them completely off.
“Come on, Chace!” she urged.
Instead of standing, Chace knelt and took her bare ass in his hands, pressing his nose to the apex of her thighs.
“Just tell your magic cabin to …”
His tongue flicked between the folds of her sex to reach the swollen clit.
She gasped.
Chace lifted one of her thighs over one shoulder then the other, willing the cabin to make sure the cuffs didn’t hurt her wrists again while she dangled from the ceiling.
He buried his face into the soft, slick center of her womanhood, hungrily drinking from her core then tracing the path between her opening to the tiny button of a clit with his tongue. Her scent drove him insane with need. This time, though, he needed to make her come, to feel her body shudder around him and hear her call his name the way she had weeks before.
Her firm thighs clenched his head, her heels digging into his back as she strained to intensify the sensations.
This is heaven. Chace licked and lapped at the clit, listening to Skylar’s gasps and murmurs to guide him. He released her bottom with one hand to slide fingers into her core and moved them in and out slowly to match the rhythm of his tongue stroking the sensitive skin between her nether lips and suckling the clit.
“Let me down, Chace!” Her demand was breathless, more of a groan. “I want you inside me.”
He almost relented, unable to think of anything he wanted more than to feel her slick, tight, hot sheath gripping his dick. He forced himself to stay where he was with this head between her thighs, savoring her sweet flavor and gently torturing her with his mouth and teeth. His fingers worked her G-spot at a slow, unrelenting pace while his lips and tongue swirled, sucked and tickled the sensitive clit.
Her body stiffened around him, her thighs clenching his head while she tilted her hips towards him and arched her back in a sign she was close to coming. He slowed his pace and received a kick in the back from one heel in response.
“I can stop now,” he teased, lifting his head from the core of her womanhood.
“Please don’t!” Her voice carried a desperate note.
He freed his fingers from her core and gripped her ass hard to hold her in place, leaning forward to taste her again then run it along the sensitive path to her clit. He licked her hard and slow.
Her tense body shuddered in anticipation with each flicker of his tongue. He circled the straining clit then sucked hard.
“Oh, god!” Skylar cried as her orgasm broke.
Chace lifted his head as her body began convulsing. Her breathing was ragged, and he slid a finger into her core again to feel her tight sheathe ripple around it.
Her body climaxing was almost too much. Her scent intensified, her soft gasps turning him on almost beyond control. He waited as long as he could for her pleasure to calm then slid her thighs off his shoulders and stood.
Her face was flushed, her eyes glowing.
Chace wrapped one arm around her and kissed her hard, one hand sliding down her belly once more towards her core. He slid fingers inside of her, loving the sensation of her orgasm as it gripped his fingers in waves.
His magic had retreated again, but it was the woman in his arms who had his attention. She was kissing him passionately, silently trying to cajole him into staying. Every part of him wanted to slide his hands around to her perfect ass and pull her onto his hips then drag her into bed for the next day, week, month, year. However long it took to satiate the inhuman need to claim her.
But her strange claims about rehabilitation nagged at him, made him think he wasn’t the only one who was oblivious to what was going on. She, too, didn’t know a thing about what really went on beyond the surface of the slayers’ duties.
One of us has to figure this shit out.
Reluctantly, he dropped his hands and moved away, determined to find someone to help him unravel this mystery.
“You aren’t going to finish what you started?” she asked, dazed and surprised.
“The cabin will let you put on your clothes and clean up in the bathroom,” he answered shortly. “But you can’t leave.”
Chace dressed fast and left, before the beautiful woman with sexiest body he’d ever seen and the calming touch could completely derail him, make him stay in bed with her for days instead of uncovering what was going on.
I need to keep my distance. With a sinking feeling, he began to wonder if it was too late for that.