Dragon Rising (3 page)

A
rcher pushed through the crowd as Kye moved away from the bar.

“Kye.”

His voice stopped her, as much a command as her name. The swirling light in her eyes flared. “Yes?”

“We need to talk to you about Jeremy.”

We.
At least he was including Lyra.

A glittery star on Kye’s cheek caught the light as she took him in. “Who are you? Wait. You’re his brother. Archer, right?”

“And I’m Lyra Slade,” she said with a nod, rather than sticking her hand out and risk rejection again.

Kye tipped her chin in acknowledgment but turned toward Archer. “Is he all right?”

“That’s what I’m trying to find out.” Archer ran his hand through his hair. “I went to his place earlier. No sign of him.”

Kye gave no indication that she knew about the stripped wings, but she was clearly worried by the frown on her face. “I’m afraid it might be connected to a project we were working on. Anika’s here, too. Let’s talk.” She gestured for them to follow her. Rivets and rhinestones on the patches plastered all over her black leather jacket caught the undulating lights. The DJ started spinning Icona Pop’s “I Love It,” and they had to go against the flow of people rushing toward the dance floor.

Kye led them to a private seating area with upholstered seats in rich autumn colors. Around the bend was a particularly secluded one, with a sign on the low table announcing it was reserved.

Anika stood as they approached. She was small boned, her light red hair washing over her forehead. Worry was etched across her expression, as well as her surprise at seeing Archer there.

They made introductions and remained standing. Kye leaned against the side of the couch and stretched long legs encased in fishnet stockings.

“Jeremy said you were a sex Deuce,” Archer said.

Kye’s shoulders stiffened with a touch of haughty pride. “I’m a Zensu Deuce, having the essence of the Deuce goddess of love and sensuality. I’m a licensed therapist who specializes in things sensual, which includes but is not limited to sexuality.”

Archer’s mouth lifted in a wry smile. “Forgive my distillation. He mentioned something called ‘sex magick.’ But I’ve probably misquoted that as well.”

Hmm, Archer was being polite.
That’s because he wants information.

“Like my profession, Cobra Magick is about all the aspects of love and desire. I named it for the Tantric position, because it’s as much about spiritual union as physical. For Caidos, the Cobra means pleasure without pain.”

Archer muttered, “Jeremy talks too much.”

“Don’t blame him. Before I met Jeremy and Anika, another Deuce–Caido couple approached me to overcome the”—Kye glanced at Lyra—“issues inherent in such a union,” she added cryptically. “It was a challenge I couldn’t resist. I began to play with how to use the principle of the Essex in a permanent way.”

Anika twisted her fingers together. “When we approached Kye six months ago, she told us she was working on a couple of theories. Last week she called to say she was conducting a test study and asked if we wanted to participate. Even with the risks inherent in new magick, we were in.”

“I’ve worked with four couples in total, Jeremy and Anika being the most recent,” Kye said. “There have been two consistent side effects. The magick bonds the couple, which is fine since that’s what they want. The second is problematic. The Cobra releases all the feelings the Caido has buried. One Caido was overwhelmed and went into isolation. The others are enjoying a romantic life with their mates. Everything seemed to go all right with Jeremy. He went through the barrage of emotions and recovered. If he was going to crash, it would have happened right away.”

Anika said, “We went home, enjoyed the, uh, benefits of the Cobra and fell asleep. In the morning, he was different. Quiet. Said he’d had bad dreams. Then he pushed me away, told me he had to go deal with some issues that had come up. That was three days ago.” Anika gave Archer a beseeching look. “You haven’t heard from him?”

“That’s why I’m here.”

Anika rubbed the bridge of her nose. “I could feel Jeremy’s presence after we did the Cobra. The bond. I still feel him, but the connection is very faint. As though he’s…injured.” Emotion filled her voice.

Lyra was having trouble following the conversation. Pleasure without pain? Issues inherent in a Caido/Crescent union? Essex? But she had her own agenda. She pulled a picture from her purse. “Have you seen this man? His name is Stein Slade, and he’s my father.”

Anika gave her a guileless shake of her head.

Kye’s expression shuttered. “I can’t discuss my clients.”

“My father was
your client
?” Lyra got right in her face, feeling her Dragon push against her skin. “He was with Jeremy a few days ago, and he’s missing, too. If you know anything…” Her teeth tingled, fangs ready to extend. “Don’t make me eat you.”

Kye stepped away, her gaze on Archer. “Pull your Dragon back.”

He shrugged. “She’s not my Dragon. But I do know she’s impulsive and headstrong and she’ll do whatever it takes to find her father. It’s made her a pain in my ass.” He gave her a sterile smile. “Now she can be a pain in your ass.”

Kye released a quick breath. “I’ll tell you what I can. I wasn’t counseling him directly. About five months ago, he accompanied a woman who came to see me. She identified him as a friend who was there for moral support.”

“That woman.” Lyra’s heart tightened. “Was her name Tara Becker?”

Something flickered across Kye’s expression. She was about as good at hiding her thoughts as Lyra. “I can’t discuss the actual client.”

“Which means Tara
was
your client. She went missing right after she saw you. Three missing people connected to you. Confidentiality or not, we need answers.” Lyra moved closer. “Jeremy and my father are probably in danger. Talk.” She shot Archer a
Give me some backup here
look, but he lifted his eyebrow in a
You’ve got it covered
response.

Kye sank down to the couch, picking at a rivet on her sleeve. “I can only give you generalities, understand?” She was clearly figuring out how much to say while preserving her professional oath. When Lyra and Archer sat down across from her, she said, “One of my abilities is telling inter-Crescent couples which type of magick the baby’s going to inherit. As an example, if you and Archer came to me, I could tell whether your fetus was Dragon or Caido.

“Let’s just say that Tara’s request went beyond not only my abilities, but one of the Hidden laws. She was so desperate that I asked Jeremy if he knew someone who could help, since he mentioned having some powerful acquaintances in the Caido community. He made some calls but had no luck. When I heard Tara went missing, I thought she had probably taken time away from everyone to…handle the situation privately. She made me promise that I would never divulge her reason for seeing me.”

Lyra rubbed her chin. How could sex or babies be illegal? She heard Archer ask Kye something, but her mind kept poking and prodding until an idea hit her. “Tara was pregnant, which would have been a surprise at her age. She was going to terminate the pregnancy.”

Kye shook her head. “I have nothing to do with abortions. Besides, she would have gone to a clinic.”

“True. So Tara discovers she’s pregnant.” Lyra snapped her fingers. “And she wanted to know if the baby was Dragon like her or Deuce like her husband. Huff hates Dragons.” Her eyes widened. “Her baby was going to be a Dragon.”

Kye blinked, giving away that at least something Lyra said was on target.

Lyra went on. “She wanted to change the fetus, didn’t she? To preserve her marriage.”

Not only was it illegal to change a fetus and risky to both mother and baby, but also the fact that she’d tried to eradicate a Dragon would make her and even her family anathema to all Dragons.

Kye neither confirmed nor denied Lyra’s statement, keeping her client confidentiality intact and letting Lyra know she was on the right track.

Lyra stood. “Thank you.”

Kye rose, too. “I’m not sure how something that happened five months ago factors in, but hopefully it helps.”

They exchanged numbers, and Kye said, “Please let me—us,” she added, nodding toward Anika, “know when you find him.”

Lyra heard Archer’s exhale of relief as they stepped into the cool, clean air. Her ears still buzzed with music. “We worked well together just now.”

His eyes flashed for a second. Was he also remembering exactly how well they’d worked together by the bar, his hand sliding down her neck…What was
that
?

“You almost ate our witness.”

She waved that away. “Details. We got answers.”

He considered her for several long seconds. “I have a feeling partnering with you will be complicated.”

“I’m not simple.”

“Far from easy,” he said.

“I’m not easy.”

That got the corner of his mouth to lift, almost a smile. “I’ll regret this.”

“Shake on it?”

He eyed her outstretched hand, as he’d done at the condo.

“What, Caidos don’t do handshakes?”

“No.”

She held her question about why he didn’t want to touch or, in particular, be touched.

But he touched you.
She shivered at the memory, at the need he’d seemed to feel for her.

“Who is Tara?” he asked. “And
could
something that happened five months ago play into this?”

Lyra rubbed her forehead. “I don’t know, but it sure looks like it’s connected. My twin brother, Kirin, was dating Tara’s daughter, Ellie. Tara is Dragon, but she married a Deuce, and Ellie took after her dad’s class of Crescent. Huff totally disapproved of Kirin and Ellie being together, which I thought was weird considering
he
married a Dragon. After Tara went missing, Pop admitted that she secretly gave him her blessing for Kirin and Ellie’s relationship…and they became clandestine friends. Once the authorities found out, Pop became the first suspect. Some people, including me, think Huff did something to her. Because there was no sign of foul play, the case went cold.”

Archer was observing her. “There’s more. Something that bothers you.”

“How do you know?”

He made a vague gesture toward her. “Your facial expression.”

Yeah, right.

“A few days after Tara’s disappearance, Kirin, Ellie, and I were at the office in the bakery. I spotted a note tucked beneath the calendar pad on the desk. As I started to pull it out, I realized it was from Tara. Has your mind ever jumped from one possibility to another at lightning speed? No, you’ve probably never done anything impulsive in your life.” Except maybe that thing in the bar…

“All I saw was that it was signed ‘Love, Tara.’ I panicked. What if she wrote something that looked bad? What if Pop went to prison because of a word, a phrase, and the next thing I knew I was sticking the note into the Yankee candle jar that was on the desk.”

Unfortunately her rash action had fractured Kirin’s relationship with Ellie.

Archer raised his eyebrows. “You burned the note?”

“Men are convicted on circumstantial evidence all the time, even without a body. I couldn’t take a chance of some stupid note sending Pop to prison. I knew he didn’t do anything to Tara. Of course, in hindsight, I wish I’d read it. Subconsciously I must have thought that if he’d kept the note and hidden it…” She couldn’t even say it.

“That he was in love with her.”

Lyra nodded. “And…maybe that baby is his.” She didn’t want to think it, but damn, the possibility nipped at her.

“I can help you go back in your mind so you can read the note.”

“Really? Like hypnosis?”

“Yes, only I see the scene, too.”

“You can go into my head?”

His mouth turned up in a half-smile. “Scary thought. For me, too.”

His smile, gawd, it tickled her stomach and inflated her chest. “All right, I’m game.”

“We should go…” He was surveying the surroundings and his smile disappeared. “To my place. Where are you parked?”

“Against the curb over there. I’ll meet you at the Raphael.”

Archer accompanied her despite her obvious send-off. He peered in the back of her Jeep, then closed her door once she’d gotten in. “Wait and follow me into the garage.”

“I know the way.”

“It’s not your sense of direction that concerns me.” His gaze zeroed in on something behind her. “It’s the wraiths hanging around.”

A
rcher watched the shadows around the yellow Jeep while the valet fetched his car, making sure none moved. Wraiths never attacked in the open, but the interior of Lyra’s car was fair game. They had no reason to assault her. Not that lack of a reason would stop them.

When he pulled past her, she fell in behind him. He kept an eye on the rearview mirror as he drove. The streetlights illuminated her creamy skin and full mouth.

Keeping her around is a bad idea. In many ways.

Unfortunately, she was right. She had information he needed if he was going to find Jeremy. He’d do anything to find his brother, who had already been through so much. Dread and worry tightened Archer’s chest. How much more could Jeremy handle?

Archer glanced again at the headlights on his tail. Would he do anything to help the Dragon girl? The need to help tugged at him, like someone trying to pull out a feather. Her draw to him was normal, one of the curses of being a Caido. That he was drawn to her as well, a dangerous anomaly. Caidos, out of necessity, had to shut down their sexuality. How many times had it been their downfall? From the first fall of the angels from Heaven to the most recent at the island of Lucifera, Caidos had paid the price for their father’s sins, a torment that never ended. He thought of those wings in Jeremy’s bedroom. Well, there was one way for it to end: death.

Archer pulled up to the garage entrance at the Raphael and punched in the code to allow himself and another car inside. Her Jeep appeared out of place among the Mercedes, Ferraris, and other luxury vehicles. Caidos could enjoy the sensuality of a beautiful car, her lines and curves, the purr of her engine, and the thrill of going fast.

Lyra Slade is a thrill you cannot enjoy.

She parked next to him and stepped out of her vehicle, slinging a large purse over her shoulder. Her high heels
snicked
across the concrete as she stalked toward him, jabbing her finger in his direction.

“How dare you drop something like that and walk away? Wraiths! What do you mean, wraiths? Are they like ghosts?”

“Worse than ghosts. Quick, get to the elevators.” He wanted her inside the building.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw something dark slink behind the back of a Maserati across the way. “They are the souls of dead Caidos who were not properly interred.” He moved behind her. “They become shadows with fangs and teeth.”

“Oh, nice.” She followed his stare. “And they followed us here, didn’t they?”

“Two of them.”

One slithered closer, hiding beneath the front tire of a blue Lamborghini.

“Oh, is that all?” Her voice was pitched high, her eyebrows furrowed as she searched.

He ushered her toward the elevator, scanning their surroundings. The wraiths’ dark, slimy energy pressed closer.

“Why are they after us?” Lyra turned her back toward the elevator the moment they reached it, a sign of good fighting instinct.

His hands clamped over her shoulders, keeping her close to him. “My guess is that someone doesn’t want us poking around.”

Her body vibrated hot beneath his hands. Her skin blurred, flesh tone to yellow and back again.

Wraiths moved like shadows, vaguely the shape of gargoyles. The two flowed around the front of the cars flanking the elevator. He searched their shapes and their gaping dark eyes, a nugget of fear forming in his chest.
Are either of you Jeremy?

The forms inched closer. Archer flicked a glance to the indicator above the stainless-steel door. Still on the eleventh floor. The stairs were on the other side of the garage. They would have to fight. Transforming made him vulnerable, though he would have to take the chance.

She was staring at him. “You’re…glowing.”

A powerful energy surged through his body, like an electrical charge and just as painful. He bellowed with it, feeling his wings push through his back like two hatchets. The wraiths shot forward. He readied for their talons to tear into him. Except he heard a roar and a
whump
. The pain and light diminished, clearing his vision. A gorgeous deep yellow Dragon fended off the wraiths, keeping them from attacking as he transformed. Her scales shimmered as she twisted around and swiped a wraith with her tail. It was whiplike, with spikes at the tip that lacerated the black form. It screamed, a sound like nails on a chalkboard, and rolled away.

The other wraith leaped, its long arms ready to grab him. He threw Light at it, burning a hole through its stomach. Light didn’t work on wraiths as it did on other beings. If he punched enough holes into its shadow form, though, he could weaken it.

“Get back-to-back with me,” he said, moving closer to the Dragon.

Lyra backed up until he felt her cool scales brush his arm. They each had a wraith to deal with. She snatched at it, fast and smooth.

He reached over his shoulder to his wings, which weren’t feathery in texture but made of a dense, electric energy. Like brushing your fingers along the tentacles of a sea anemone. Wrenching a feather out felt like removing a fingernail, but he only grunted at the sharp pain. The feather solidified into a dhagger, a weapon the ancient angels used. The wraith eyed the dhagger, silver in the fluorescent lights. Archer distracted it with a shot of Light, then lunged at it with the dhagger.

The wraith zigzagged out of reach. Archer kept checking on Lyra. She was a capable fighter, but she wasn’t used to fighting wraiths.

“Keep whacking it with your tail. What is that thing loaded with?”

“It’s got a sting like a yellow jacket times a hundred.”

She whipped it out again, and the wraith jumped it and flew to the base of her tail. It clamped on and bit into her scales. She shook, but it clung like a burr. He was so busy watching her that his adversary inched closer without him knowing. It swiped at him with claws, cutting into his shin. He swung at it with his dhagger, slicing its arm off. The arm disintegrated as the wraith uttered a guttural cry.

Lyra’s scream jerked his head around. The wraith had pulled out one of her scales and was slicing at her throat with it in wild arcs. Archer grabbed its hand, twisting it. With a screech, it kicked at Archer’s arm, pulling free to take a swipe at her throat again. The edge of the scale was sharp enough to slice into her shoulder. Blood spurted out in an arc of spray. Archer latched on to the wraith with one arm. It thrashed and scratched him, but he plunged the dhagger into its chest.

Its whole body lit up, and then it disintegrated like the other wraith’s arm. He turned to find that wraith snatching up the scale. Before Archer could grab it back, the thing cut his side. It met the same death with his dhagger. He did a quick scan of the garage to make sure there weren’t any others. Just the two. Whoever sent them hadn’t counted on Lyra being with him. Two on one was a lot harder.

Lyra.

He turned to find her lying on the concrete floor in human form, naked and curled in a fetal position. Her clothes were in tatters nearby, her purse lying next to them.

The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open. He scooped her up, snagged her purse, and stepped into the car. Blood gushed out of her shoulder wound, a long, deep slice. Her eyes were hazy with pain.

“Let me get you upstairs. I can heal you.”

She blinked at him, amber flames flickering unsteadily in her blue eyes. Her pain and fear overwhelmed him. He focused on the feel of her skin beneath his hands, then realized that skin was her ass, soft, round…

Hell.

He could see the reflection of that fine ass in the brass walls of the elevator, his hand splayed across it, his other arm around her back. She had to be naked. Because this wasn’t hard enough. He tried to force cool energy through his being to compensate for her heat where their skin touched.

“Hurts…,” she uttered in a strained voice.

“I know, I know,” he soothed,
because I can feel it.
“It’ll be gone soon.”

The elevator opened, and he stepped into the apartment. He set her down on his bed.

“You’re b-beautiful,” she whispered, her eyes glassy.

“Sleep.” He waved his hand over her face, and her eyes drifted closed.

She was shivering, going into shock. He placed his palm over her shoulder, her warm blood slick on his skin. Pain seared his shoulder, hot and intense. He jammed the corner of the blanket between his teeth. She jerked, grimacing as the pain tore away from her. Then she relaxed as the last of it left her and now cut through him. He breathed through it, biting down hard on the blanket. How had she endured it? She was brave, fighting like a warrior. Finally, the pain left him, too, and he sagged with relief.

He had healed before, usually in dire circumstances when either Crescent or Mundane were in such pain or fear that the sight of an angel didn’t seem so terribly unusual. Even one whose wings weren’t pristine white. He then went off to deal with the pain he’d taken, alone.

He wasn’t alone now. He caressed her shoulder, unmarred now but covered with thickening blood. He went to the kitchen and returned with a bowl of warm water and a towel. She was still asleep. He knew Dragons tried to shed their clothes before they transformed. She hadn’t had time to disrobe. A long time ago, he’d fought a Dragon. Now he’d fought alongside one.

He knelt on the bed beside her and ran the cloth over her skin, washing away the blood. There was no need for modesty because he had no sexual drive. Another side effect of the human–angel union was to suffer pain at feeling desire, others’ and their own. All Caidos had to shut down that part of themselves for self-preservation. So it meant nothing to run the cloth over her breasts, her flat stomach, and hip bones that jutted out slightly. To wash her yellow Dragon tattoo that slept as she did.

That he was taking his time had nothing to do with his drinking in her curves. Yet his fingers itched to touch her, as he had at the club. His body stirred as it had not in many years. How long since blood had rushed into that particular organ? He was hoping it had atrophied, and this was why.

He dropped the cloth into the bowl and set it on the nightstand, then pulled up a sheet to cover her. He had never been drawn to a woman. Desired one, yes, but never pulled like this, right from his soul. He’d seen the danger of that in Grayson’s haunted eyes and his rage, his experience a warning to all Caidos.

Not that this woman would torture him on purpose. She
was
torturing him, though.

He ran the back of his fingers against her cheek, so soft and flawless. He would allow himself only this touch. Nowhere intimate that would violate her sanctity. It would be the last time he’d touch her.

You’re weak from the healing. Stop. Don’t give in.

He knew his conscience was right. Where angels feared to tread, that place was here with this woman on his bed. Still, he couldn’t pull his hand away, her warmth seeping into all the cold places inside him. Being in full wing usually numbed the pain he felt from emotions. But amazingly, he could feel it like a low-voltage hum through his being. He indulged in a need he didn’t know he had.

“Beautiful,” he whispered to her, having never uttered those words about anyone before.

With a gasp, she grabbed his hand and shot to a sitting position. “Where am I?” She took him in with wide eyes, and he could see the pieces clicking in her mind. “What were you doing?”

“Cleaning the blood off you.”

The sheet had fallen away, pooling around her waist. She snatched it up again, covering her breasts. She searched herself, her shoulder. “I was cut, badly. I remember the pain. God, it hurt so much.” Her hand groped all along her skin.

“You’re fine now, though in need of some clothing.” He got up and opened the drawer where he kept things for his short stay. He located a button-down shirt and blindly handed it to her, remaining turned away.

“You healed me?”

Thankfully she hadn’t seen the cost. He faced her again, and the sight of his shirt draped over her small body tightened his stomach. “Yes.”

She brushed her fingers across her cheek where he’d touched her moments before, a puzzled expression on her face. Could she feel the echo of his touch? Then her eyes went to his wings, and her voice softened to a reverent hush. “I’ve never seen a Caido’s wings before. They’re luminescent, like smoky silver. You have a glow all around you.”

She wanted to touch his wings. He could see it in her eyes, the way they caressed the width of them. The thought shivered through him, not painful but…tempting.

Her wonderment fled. “You’ve been hurt, too. Can you heal yourself?”

Archer looked at the cut on his side. It wasn’t bleeding anymore, only crusted with dried blood. “It will heal on its own.”

Lyra took the cloth from the bowl and wrung out the water. As she stretched to reach him, the sheet fell away. The shirt covered her hips and ass but left her long, creamy legs bare. She hissed in pain at the same second he saw the red, angry line on the back of her thigh.

She twisted around to see it. “Bastard ripped out one of my scales. And tried to slice my throat with it!”

“Calm down.” Now her anger pulsed. “I’ll heal it.” He sat on the edge of the bed and waved his hand over it.

“You put me to sleep, didn’t you?” She winced but never took her gaze from him. Which made him work harder to keep his expression neutral as he took her pain.

“Consider it a sedative.”

The line disappeared from her skin, burning on his thigh for a few seconds before fading.

She was watching him. “You take on the pain.”

He lifted a shoulder. “It’s just a sting.”

“Thank you.”

“It’s nothing. Really.”

She started to reach toward the cut with the washcloth but paused. “You don’t like it when people touch you.”

He shook his head. “No, we don’t.”

She bent her legs to the side, a demure position, yet still provocative. “Let me get this straight. Your energy draws women to you, but you don’t like anyone to touch you.”

He had to be careful what he revealed. Knowledge was dangerous to Caidos. “Ironic, isn’t it? We don’t want that attraction. In fact, we despise it.”