Karos Page 3

  Where the hell had that thought come from?

  He drew in a deep breath, his nostrils flaring as if he’d caught wind of something. Then he growled at her, his gold eyes burning with something that made her breath catch. She took a step back, then stopped herself. She didn’t back down from anyone, not even growly space dragons that thought they were in charge.

  The rumble of approaching engines was audible now. He glanced toward the loudest source of sirens, then back to her. “You need to make your choice. Work with me or with the police.”

  “You’re not going to work with them?”

  He gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head. “I will not obstruct them, but they are bound by rules that I am not. Which will it be, Megan Richards?”

  “I still don’t trust you.” She said, weighing her decision.

  “Understandable, but not relevant.”

  “Are you always this bossy?”

  “Yes.” His mouth softened in a hint of a smile. “At least, that’s what others have told me.”

  “If we do this, we’d be partners. If I liked taking orders I’d still be in the R.C.M.P.”

  He chuckled. “The trick is to hold your temper long enough the ones in charge eventually promote you, so you become the one giving the orders.”

  “So I’ve heard.” She held out her hand to him. “Partners, then?”

  He crossed to her and took her hand in his much larger one, and she couldn’t help but notice the callouses on his fingers and the firm confidence in his grip. “Partners.”

  Something else happened when they made contact, a rush of pure lust that made her sway toward him. She was attracted to him, but it wasn’t like anything she’d ever felt before. It was so strong she had to fight the desire to touch him, to run her hands through his hair and explore the hard lines of his body. She dumped a mental bucket of ice water on her libido. She didn’t know what was going on, but she had more important things to focus on right now. Like finding her friends and making sure the ones who took them learned the error of their ways.

  He released her hand as the first police cruiser appeared, closely followed by several more cop cars and two dark sedans with tinted windows and diplomatic plates. She looked from them to Karos and gave him a brief nod. She was on team embassy, which meant that, like it or not, she’d follow his lead.

  “Now we have that out of the way, I’m going to try tracking my friends.” She ignored the incoming vehicles and went back to the limo to retrieve her purse from the floor. Relief hit her when she found her cell phone still tucked inside. She turned it on and activated an app she had hoped she’d never need to use.

  “You can track them with that device?” He asked, coming over to stand beside her, his gaze on her phone.

  “Maybe.” People exited their vehicles and headed their way. In a few seconds the questions would start. She stared at her phone. The program synched, chimed, and opened a new screen. It was blank. Hope took a flying leap off the nearest cliff and landed in a shattered heap at the bottom. “Dammit.”

  Karos uttered a disappointed grunt. “Nothing?”

  “No signal. Which means either the kidnappers disabled their phones and trackers, or they’re so deep inside a building the signal can’t be detected.” She put the phone away but left the app running. If it got a signal, it would sound an alert. It was the best she could do. For now.

  They both looked up as they were surrounded and hit with requests for identification and explanations. She let Karos take the lead. He had more authority than her, and the clock was ticking. The longer they spent answering questions in the rain, the greater the kidnappers’ head start got.

  Once they were back at the embassy, she had questions of her own. Starting with who Kyle the driver was, and why Vykor, who was supposed to be a damned dragon, hadn’t done a thing to protect himself or anyone else.

  Chapter Three

  Karos questioned Megan over the short drive back to the embassy, asking her to clarify certain details and trying to build a timeline in his head. He didn’t bother asking her to repeat the information she’d given to the police. They’d made her repeat it enough times he had it all committed to memory. More importantly, her story hadn’t changed at all, including the details about waking up and finding him standing outside. She was a reliable witness, and he no longer had any doubts about her. At least, not about the attack. He still could not accept the idea that this female -- this small, human female, could possibly be his mate. His dragon was mistaken. It had to be.

  Megan walked beside him, her bare feet leaving muddy tracks on the pristine marble floor. “Would you like to clean up before we start?” He asked. “Your things were in the back of the vehicle. Someone will already be bringing them to your room.”

  “I’d love to, but we can’t afford the time. The bad guys already have a head start, and it’s getting bigger every second.”

  “We will find them. This was not a random act. It was carefully orchestrated. Based on the fact you were left alive, we can assume that murder was not the final goal. Whatever it is, they need hostages to make it happen.”

  She nodded, her features drawn into a thoughtful frown. “That makes sense. But why take humans, a Pyrosian, and a Romaki? Your species are hardly going to make compliant prisoners.”

  Karos sighed. “Normally, I would agree with you, but Jet is unmated, and Vykor is not…” he trailed off as he searched for the English words that would best explain the other male’s situation. “He is unique among my race. He was born without a dragon’s spirit.”

  Megan’s stride slowed. “That can happen?”

  “It has only happened once. Some of our priests claim it is a sign the Gods are displeased with us. That his existence is a warning that if we do not heed the temples wisdom, more children will be born like him.” He shrugged slightly. “I do not believe that, but those that followed the temples into the war did.”

  “So, he didn’t transform because he couldn’t? Is that why he didn’t do anything to protect himself, or us, during the attack?”

  “Vykor has no magic. He is a researcher, not a warrior. There was nothing he could have done to stop what happened today.”

  Her expression softened. “Lily is the same. I’ve taught her some basic self-defence, but she’s not a fighter, either.” Megan’s fingers balled into a fist at her side. “And those bastards took her. I’m supposed to protect them both, and I can’t do anything for them. This sucks.”

  He knew exactly how she felt because he felt the same things. Guilt. Frustration. Impatience. On top of all that, he was feeling the first manifestations of the rux, the mating fever that came upon all of his race once they scented their mate. For now, it was manageable, and he had every intention of keeping it that way. His dragon had to be wrong about the female. Even if it wasn’t, he should be alright so long as he didn’t claim her. No biting. No touching. No problem.

  “We will find them. You should take a moment to clean up and find new footwear. It is going to be a long day. You should be comfortable.”

  Her mouth set in a stubborn line. “A little mud won’t kill me. When I said we were partners, I meant it. Where you go, I go. So, unless you’re going to my room to clean up, too, that’s not on the agenda.”

  Being in close quarters with her while she bathed was not a good idea.

  “She is ours. Claim her.” His dragon stated, its tone frustrated.

  “She is not ours.”

  The beast growled. A basso rumble that rolled through his mind like thunder. “She is. Why do you deny it?”

  He gritted his teeth. “Because it cannot be. Not here. Not now. Not her.”

  His dragon’s only response was sullen silence, which was fine by Karos. He didn’t need more distractions right now. He had work to do.

  “I’m going to assume by your silence that you’re not interested in visiting my room, so where are we going?”

  There was a subtle note of disappointment buried ben
eath Megan’s words, and he glanced at her in surprise. She was watching him intently, lips parted, eyes momentarily gleaming with something that made his dragon growl possessively. “Want. Take. Claim.”

  ”Be silent.”

  “Want.” The dragon shot back before lapsing into silence again.

  Was that what he’d seen in Megan’s eyes a moment ago, want? His cock stiffened, and his blood turned to fire at the mere thought she might desire him, and he answered her while he was too distracted by his lust to consider softening his words to something less than a command.

  “We will go to your room. We can continue our conversation while you change. You are wet, and your feet must be cold.”

  She looked ready to argue, but then her eyes narrowed as she took a closer look at his clothing. “We were both standing in the rain for ages. So, how is it that I’m soaked and you’re not?” Her gaze raked down his body. “Your shoes aren’t even muddy.”

  “I changed my clothes before we entered the vehicle that drove us here.”

  “You didn’t. I was with you the whole time. I definitely would have noticed if you’d been naked at any point.”

  “I was never naked. I simply summoned a replacement set of clothing.”

  “And what happened to your old clothes?” she asked.

  “I willed them away. That is part of my magic. A simple but very convenient ability.”

  “If you willed your clothes away, and then summoned new ones, you were naked. Maybe only for a second, but you were, and I missed it.” She scowled, then flushed. “I’m mean. I didn’t notice the change. I uh, I’m usually better at noticing details like that.”

  “It was very quick. If you like, I can demonstrate.”

  “You’re going to get naked again? Here?”

  Every time she said the word, his cock got harder.

  “I can summon something for your feet until we reach your room.”

  “You’re kind of fixated on my feet.”

  “You are leaving a trail of mud behind you.” He pointed to the floor back the way they’d come.

  She turned to look. “Oops. Didn’t think about that. Okay, then. Hocus-pocus me a pair of shoes.”

  “I am not familiar with that term.”

  She laughed, a warm, playful sound that flowed over him like a summer breeze. “Make with the magic, please.”

  He visualized what he wanted and summoned a pair of simple, fur-lined boots to encase her bare feet.

  “Shit! Shoes!” She gawked at her feet, lifting one foot, then the other to stare.

  “That is what you asked for, is it not?” he teased.

  “Well, yeah, but…poof!” She lifted her gaze to meet his. “It’s going to take me a bit to get used to the idea that you can just make things happen.” She tipped her head to one side. “Which begs the question, why can’t you just magic our missing friends back from wherever they are?” She raised a hand and wiggled her fingers in the air between them.

  “My magic does not work that way. I can shape the ether into various forms, and I can channel fire in any number of ways, but I cannot do anything like what you are suggesting. Nor do I have any way to track them down. If I could, I would have done so already.”

  “So, you never need to do laundry, but you can’t find our friends. I guess this means we do this the old-fashioned way.”

  “Indeed. First we find them. Then we save them. Then we crush the ones who did this.”

  The smile she wore was as fierce as any Romaki warrior’s. “Sounds like a plan.”

  He showed her to her room and stood back as she explored the small but well-appointed space. Her belongings had been transferred to one of the embassy’s vehicles while they were giving statements to the police, and her suitcase sat at the end of the bed.

  “This is five-star hotel level comfort.” She looked back down the hall to the doors that led off in both directions. “Why so many fancy rooms? You can’t have that many guests.”

  He followed her inside and closed the door. “It is the Pyrosians’ hope that your species will eventually accept their presence here. When that happens, they will begin hosting Gatherings again.”

  Megan went over to the bed and unzipped her bag, rifling through the contents as they spoke. “What does that have to do with having so many rooms?”

  “As I understand it, once they find their mates and initiate the Spark, things between mates progress rather, uh, quickly.”

  Megan’s eyes widened. “Oh. Yeah. I heard about that.” She pulled out a crisply folded shirt, grabbed a pair of jeans, and straightened. “I’m going into the bathroom to wash up and change. I won’t be long.”

  He nodded. “Shall I remove your footwear?”

  She paused and glanced back over her shoulder. “Uh, can I keep them for now? They’re really comfy, and I hurt my feet trying to kick out that window.”

  “You are hurt?” He was across the room before he’d finished speaking, standing in front of her, his eyes on her feet. “Show me.”

  “It’s nothing. Just bruised.”

  He didn’t like the idea that she had hidden her damage from him. How could he protect her if he didn’t know these things? “You should have said something.”

  “I’m fine. And the next time my boss tells me to wear heels, I’m going to ignore her.”

  “Your shoes were not practical,” he agreed. “You may continue to use the shoes I conjured for you for as long as you like.” He ignored how pleased it made him that she was wearing something he had made for her. She was not his mate. It did not matter if she liked his gifts or not.

  “Ours.” His dragon muttered at the back of his mind.

  “So, uh, I’m going to go change now.”

  “As you wish.” He moved away from her. “We can talk as you do so.”

  She walked over to the bathroom and went inside, pushing the door almost, but not quite, closed. “I’ve already told you everything I can remember about the attack.”

  “You have. But I have not yet told you about what happened here in the minutes before you were rammed.”

  “Something happened?”

  “The protestors out front grew louder and more organized than they have been in weeks. It was enough to bring most of the guards out into the courtyard to keep an eye on them.”

  The door flew open, revealing her standing there with her shirt only partially buttoned, giving him an eyeful of soft curves and golden skin. “You think they did it on purpose?”

  He focused his gaze on the wall to her right and tried to ignore his body’s reaction to seeing her partially unclothed. “I do. I think they were instructed to act out so that we’d tell your driver to avoid the front gate and use the side entrance. That’s the approach you were on when you were attacked.”

  She grimaced. “Those sons of bitches. That’s how they knew where we’d be.”

  “And now we know Kyle is working with them, we can assume he gave them the route so they could choose the perfect place to set up the attack. Quiet street. Minimal chance of witnesses. Too far from the embassy for anyone to reach you in time.”

  “It makes sense. Kyle must have told them we were coming, too. Our arrival was supposed to be a secret.” She finally remembered her state of undress, her hands rising to cover herself as she ducked back into the bathroom and pushed the door back into place.

  He exhaled sharply and started pacing in an attempt to distract himself. It didn’t work. His carefully ordered thoughts and plans on how to find their missing friends were tangled up with lusty thoughts about how it would feel to touch her golden skin, to taste her lips, to press his fangs to her throat and claim her for his own. He slammed his fist into his thigh, using the discomfort to stop the flow of distracting thoughts and images. He didn’t have time for this.

  “The fever burns.”

  “This is not the rux. I have no mate.”

  His dragon bellowed in fury, its thoughts strong enough to make him wince. “There is no I. The
re is we. We have a mate. Her.”

  “I let them die. I do not deserve a mate.”

  His dragon quieted. “I miss them. But they are gone. We are not.”

  “You still out there?” Megan called a few minutes later.

  “Still here. Thinking. They planned this carefully. They have to want something. Why haven’t they contacted us to ask for it?”

  “Yeah. About that.” Megan’s words were strained.

  “What?” He crossed to the door but didn’t open it.

  “I found their message.”

  “Where? What kind of message? What does it say?”

  She uttered a ragged, strangled little laugh. “They used me. I’m the message.”

  The door opened. She stood beyond it, her expression an unreadable mask. The skirt she’d been wearing lay in a heap on the tile floor, and she held jeans in one hand. She wore nothing but a pair of pale pink panties on her lower body, and his cock hardened at the sight of her bare legs.

  For a moment, he could think of nothing but how good she looked, but then he saw what she meant, and his lust vanished beneath a surge of cold fury. Words had been scrawled across the skin of her thighs in some kind of thick, black ink. Someone had pushed up her skirt and written on her body, violating her.

  He bit back an oath and lifted his gaze to hers. “We will make them pay for this, too.”

  She nodded, and for a moment, her mask cracked, letting him see the hurt and anger hidden beneath.

  “May I take a closer look?”

  Another nod. “The right leg looks like a phone number. I think the rest are coordinates. Latitude and longitude, but I’m not sure.”

  He crouched down to get a better look without crowding her. It appeared she was correct, but when he looked closer, he saw another pair of numbers, one on each leg. The coordinates were labelled with a number one, and the phone number with a two. He pointed, leaving a few inches between his finger and her skin. “It appears they want us to go to the location first, then make contact.”

  “Then let’s go.” She took a step toward the door and him.

  He set a hand against her mostly bare hip to stop her, and a flash of heat sizzled over his fingers.