Authors: Judi Fennell
Samantha tucked the lantern more snuggly beneath her arm and followed Kal through the rusted, corrugated drainage pipe he said was the way to Harv’s lair. She had serious doubts about that because the ancient sewer tunnel was so strewn with debris that no one should live there.
Bart had the same opinion and made no bones about it. Kicked a few, too, and hadn’t stopped cursing from the minute they’d stepped out of the car.
“Are we there yet?” Dirham asked for the fifteenth time.
Samantha knew it was fifteen because she’d been counting.
“No, Dir, not yet.” Kal responded for the same number of times before consulting the map she’d first seen yesterday on the flying carpet.
“Do you think he’ll help us?” This was only the third time Dirham had asked that question.
“I hope so.” And the third time he’d gotten the same answer.
“Hope?” Maille screeched again. She’d been doing that ever since they’d left her house, which explained why this was the first time she was hearing the answer. “
That’s
the plan? Good gods! Hope’s about as useful as Bart’s foreplay.”
“Don’t start with me, woman,” her ex growled from the shadows behind them.
“Trust me, Bart, I have no intention of starting anything with you. I wish I hadn’t gotten you involved in the first place, and if chicky here had kept her big mouth shut, I wouldn’t have needed to.”
“I said I didn’t do it on purpose, Maille,” said Samantha.
“Even worse.”
Kal started to say something, but Samantha put her hand on his arm and shook her head. Maille was right, but more than that, the woman was hurting. Dragon or human, she was worried about her baby, and Samantha was willing to cut her a lot of slack because of it.
Bart, however, wasn’t. “So tell me again why the kids were unattended and this Albert person had the chance to snatch them, oh Great Parent? What were you doing that you couldn’t watch them?”
“I don’t watch them while they sleep, smoke-breath.”
“I’ll thank you to refrain from the insults, sweets.”
“I’ll thank you to refrain from breathing.”
“Right after you, babe.”
“Guys!” Kal turned around and everyone stopped within the firelight’s glow. “Save it for later. Harv doesn’t encourage visitors, so we need to keep our eyes and ears open.”
“Oh I’m good at that. Especially the ears part,” said Dirham, waggling the appendages in question. “So, are we here now?” A variation on the theme, but still, Number Sixteen.
“Does it look like we’re here, muppet?” Bart growled. “This is a really bad idea. We should go back to the house and question the kids some more. Or better yet, the neighbors. At the very least, grab a few more torches since, according to Kal’s skewed logic, Samantha only needs one, leaving the rest of us to fly blind.”
“You do that?” asked Dirham. “It doesn’t sound very safe.”
Lexy whispered in Dirham’s ear and the little fox turned pink—an interesting ability given that he was orange. “Oh.”
Maille shook her head. “Quit bitching. A wyvern is supposed to be used to dark, creepy places.”
“You so do
not
want me to go there, babe.”
Maille bared her teeth. “Go here then. I already questioned the older hatchlings, but they were so frightened that I couldn’t get much out of them, including the info about the crystal. They have no idea where Gretchen came up with it. I’m not incompetent, you know.”
“So says you.”
“Can it,
brat
.” Maille huffed.
“No, I’m not going to can it.” He looked at Kal. “This is a waste of time. We should go back and question the neighbors. This prick couldn’t have just waltzed in and out without anyone seeing anything.”
“Yeah, ’cause Dragon’s Blood Pass isn’t for the faint of heart.” Dirham shivered.
“True, but those faint hearts do taste delicious.” Bart swiped his tongue over his lips, and now it was Samantha’s turn to shiver.
“You’re thinking about food when our child is missing?” Maille spun around and her hair whipped him across the face. “What kind of father are you?”
He spit out the strands. “Who says I
am
the father?”
Samantha and Kal didn’t even have to take a step back to get out of the fray; Maille shoved Bart so hard he went backpedaling across the tunnel, windmilling his arms to stay upright while Maille kept going, laying into him with her forked tongue—literally and figuratively—until they disappeared down another tunnel.
“Do you think we should follow them?”
“Ooh! I will! I will!” Dirham disappeared into the darkness with a sighing Lexy right after him.
“Kal?” Samantha nodded toward the torch.
Kal raked a hand through his hair. “We probably should.” But he didn’t move.
Samantha didn’t either. If she hadn’t felt so guilty, she’d have washed her hands of those two;
she
seemed to care more about the situation with their child than they did.
Or felt guiltier about it.
She wrapped her arms around her middle and rubbed her hands up and down.
“Are you cold?” Kal put a hand on her shoulder. “I could conjure a blanket for you.”
She shook her head. The last thing they needed was a blanket anywhere near them. “No, thank you. I’m worried. And annoyed. Don’t they get it? What’s with all the bickering?”
“Maille and Bart have always bickered. It’s part of dragon nature.”
“Be that as it may, it’s not productive. I just wish—”
He kissed her. That wasn’t quite what she wished, but, God, he felt so good. And right now, she could use his kind of feel-good.
She leaned into him and slipped her arms around his waist, thankful for the short vest he wore so she could feel the heat of his skin against her palms. Feel the catch of his breath when she answered his silent request to open her mouth so his tongue could make quick strokes along hers, sending her right back to this morning and last night and, God, she was on fire. One simple kiss and she turned to lava in his arms.
She pressed herself against him, reveled in the feel of his arm as it slid over her shoulder and down her spine, pressing against the small of her back so she was as close as could be, heat suffusing her, surrounding her, and she groaned. His touch was magical; every millimeter of skin he stroked sparked to life. She could almost smell the smoke—
Samantha’s eyes shot open.
There
was
smoke. And it was coming from Kal’s back.
Never mind having wished—
again
—for him to kiss her, now she was burning him to a crisp.
“Oh, my God, Kal! You’re on fire!” She tried to tear herself away, but he merely smiled and wouldn’t let her go.
“I know. So are you.”
She swatted at his waist. “No, you idiot, you’re on
fire
. Drop and roll, drop and roll!”
Kal hadn’t heard of this type of kink, but, hey, if she was into it…
He knelt down and dropped the torch. It rolled out of the way, providing such perfect atmosphere that it was as if he’d conjured it for this moment. He leaned back, tugging her with him. They’d have to make this quick before anyone returned—not that the quick part would be a problem since last night had only whetted his appetite and this morning had fueled it even more. Not to mention those hundred-plus years of celibacy…
“Hurry up!” She was of the same mind, pounding a fist against his chest, and Kal didn’t think he’d ever have enough of Samantha.
“Come on, Kal! We have to put the fire out!”
Kal was focusing on her fingers against his skin, but as his back reached the ground, the words finally registered. So did the heat. And the smell of burning fabric.
Fire. On his back.
Son
of
a
Sumerian—the torch
!
Kal rolled back and forth, extinguishing the fire and cradling Samantha—if he was going to have to lose the vest off his back and hear about this from Bart ad nauseam, he might as well get something from it.
And, yes, it was totally and completely wrong of him to hold her like this, to use this opportunity for his own selfish purposes, but, frankly, he couldn’t summon the wherewithal to care. Not with Samantha nestled against him, her legs cradled between his, her head tucked beneath his chin, her fingers splayed against his chest. If Bart and Maille didn’t feel a sense of urgency, if they didn’t care, why should he?
Because… he did.
He stopped rolling, but he stayed where he was just a moment longer. Maybe two.
“Kal?” Samantha whispered. “Are you okay?”
He was just fine. His dick was turning to wood and he had a beautiful woman plastered against him on the floor of a messy old tunnel with two dragons and two fennecs who-knew-how-far-away, the ever-present promise of Harv showing up, a missing dragonlet, and a possible threat to everything he’d worked toward for all these years, but yeah, he was fine.
“I will be, Sam.”
She lifted her head, her curls brushing his chin, and looked at him. “How’s your back?”
His back was the least of his worries—especially if she couldn’t feel that hard length of him pressing against her. “It’s fine, but the vest isn’t.”
She rested her chin on his breastbone. “I’m really sorry, Kal.”
“Sorry? For what? You didn’t catch my vest on fire.”
“Not that.” She glanced away and her tongue flicked over her lips again before she met his gaze. “For making you sleep with me last night.”
If there was one thing he never would have expected to come out of her mouth, it was that. She thought she’d wished him into sleeping with her? Gods, his technique must be really off if she thought he’d been under duress.
He’d have to rectify that. “Trust me, Samantha, you didn’t make me do anything.”
“But I did, Kal. I wish—”
Kal grabbed a quick kiss. She felt so good atop him. Beneath him, too, so what she was saying made absolutely no sense. “Sam, you have absolutely nothing to apologize for.”
He, however, was going to have to make a shitload of apologies when four hooves clattered next to them and a glowing green light revealed the guy standing above them.
“You’re kidding me, right? Here?” The language was a dead one, but the sarcasm all too alive—and familiar. “You need some serious lessons in seducing a woman, Kal, if this is how you go about it. Move over and I’ll show you how it’s done.”
Kal sighed and helped Samantha sit up.
“Samantha Blaine, allow me to introduce you to Harv. Short for Harvard, who went to Princeton, and is a Yale. In other words, a blue-blooded, Ivy League… thief.”
Just when Samantha thought she was getting used to all the strange things in Izaaz, life took a sharp turn sideways.
Kind of like Harv’s horns were doing. One was going left and the other… southeast?
“I find the term ‘thief’ extremely offensive, Kal. Besides, isn’t that a pot/kettle thing?”
Harv, a bundle of muscle covered in thick black fur, was similar to, and as big as, an elk, but with the tusks of a boar and two antelope horns that looked strong enough to skewer a bull. Horns that rotated. And twisted. And turned. Could probably do the hula, too.
Samantha grabbed the lantern from where it’d fallen to the floor beside Kal—he’d warned her to keep a tight hold on it in the event they found Harv—and scrambled to her feet, checking to make sure everything that should be covered was. “Um, hi?”
She wasn’t sure what the protocol was for greeting someone with that sort of introduction—and hooves. Should she offer to shake? Bow? Curtsy? Put her hands in the air à la “stick-’em-up,” or snort and paw the ground?
One of the horns answered that question for her. Not that it actually talked, though frankly, she wouldn’t have been surprised after watching it turn toward her and angle down to slide beneath her palm, which it then raised, bringing her hand to Harv’s lips so he could gallantly kiss the back of it.
“
Enchanté, ma belle
.”
The man, er, elk, er,
Yale
was good. Smooth. Charming. Suave. All he needed was the tweed jacket with leather elbow patches and a pipe to complete the Ivy League image.
And bipedal appendages, of course.
Odd to be saying this, and even odder to be feeling it, but if she disregarded what he looked like—and what he was—and focused on his deep baritone voice and the bedroom eyes he turned on her, she’d say that Harv knew how to make a woman feel like a woman.
Or maybe that was because she was still swimming in the hormonal maelstrom Kal and his kisses had conjured, and the contact of Kal’s hand on the small of her back that was doing crazy things to her nerve endings.
Always a possibility.
“Pleased to meet you.” She glanced at Kal. She was pleased to meet him, right?
Kal, with the mind-reading ability he claimed he didn’t have, nodded.
“Hey, guys!” Dirham’s voice echoed through the metal tunnels. “Where are you? We can go look for Harv now. Maille and Bart promised they’ll be good. No more fights.”
“I’ll believe that when I see it,” Kal muttered.
“I can’t believe you’re still shackled to Dirham,” said Harv, chuckling. “You must’ve pissed off ol’ Faruq something good.”
“Don’t underestimate Dirham, Harv. There’s a reason he’s a magical-assistance assistant.”
“Yeah, because the dust mop position was already filled.”
Kal glared at him. Harv smiled back. Samantha rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.
“Kal? Samantha? Where are you?”
“Over here, Dirham,” she shouted because these two were too invested in their pissing match to do so.
“Been a while, Kal.”
“I’ve been busy.”
“Not so much, I’ve heard.”
“You heard wrong.”
The posturing was ridiculous. There was no time for this, and they were flinging enough testosterone around to impregnate the entire town. Samantha wanted to throttle both of them.
She opted for stepping between them and putting a hand on each one’s chest. “Can we stop, please? We’ve got more important things to do.”
Harv instantly turned on the charm again. An antler trapped her hand over his heart, and he turned his head to give her the full effect of those eyes.
If he weren’t a four-legged animal covered in fur, it might have worked.
“I hear you’re looking for me, little lady.”
Before she could answer, Samantha found herself levitating a few inches off the ground, then landing a good two feet behind Kal.
“Nice try, Harv, but give it up. The lady’s not interested.”
Kal then made a big production of shrugging out of the two halves of his burned vest and tossing them against the wall, and Samantha became very interested. But definitely not in Harv.
She had a feeling that’s exactly why Kal had made such a big deal about it. Guys were the same no matter what the species.
Still, part of her was thrilled he cared enough to be jealous. That had to be it, because he wasn’t going all macho just because she was his master; there’d be no need. No, he was staking his claim, and for as Neanderthal as that sounded, Samantha didn’t mind. There was a lot about Kal that she didn’t mind. A lot that she really liked.
Harv glanced into the shadows where Kal had tossed the clothing and raised an eyebrow. “Not interested? Then why was she looking for me?”
“Bad news travels fast in Izaaz.”
“Bad news and intruders. Both of which I’m guessing have something to do with why you’re here, Kal.”
“Know anything?”
“I might. Then again, I might not.” One of the antlers scratched his shoulder blade.
This was getting them nowhere. Samantha picked up the torch and stuck herself between the two of them again. “Have you heard of a guy named Albert Viehl—and do you know where he is?”
She wished she’d taken Kal up on that blanket offer when Harv ran his gaze over her, lingering on places she’d rather he wouldn’t.
“
Albert?
” Harv leaned around her to smirk at Kal. “Losing your touch, buddy?”
Kal put his hands on her waist and Samantha had the distinct impression he’d been about to physically lift her out of the way, but Dirham re-entered the tunnel just then, injecting his special brand of bounciness into the atmosphere, and Kal slid his arms around her waist to pull her back against him instead.
“Kal!” The fox screeched to a stop so abruptly that little puffs of dirt billowed out around all four paws. Four more when Lexy stopped just as quickly behind him. “So this is where you are. And you found Harv!” He bounced twice.
Samantha wasn’t about to correct him, since , technically, Harv had found them. In a rather compromising position, no less.
“Yes, Dir, we found him.”
“Awesome! I knew you would!” Dirham added a back flip to his repertoire.
Harv turned around, his hooves making almost as much noise as the antlers that were clacking together in a bone-on-bone way that grated on Samantha’s nerves. “Give me a break, fox. If I didn’t want to be found, I wouldn’t have been. Don’t go giving Kal any laurels he hasn’t earned. Which, I’ve heard, are very few these days.”
Samantha didn’t understand the undertones between the guys. They were like rutting animals—which could work for Harv, but what was Kal’s excuse? After last night, he couldn’t possibly think she’d have any interest whatsoever in Harv.
Actually, she couldn’t believe he’d
ever
think that. She wasn’t sure what she thought of the social mores here in Izaaz, but to her way of thinking, that would just be wrong.
She stepped out of Kal’s embrace. “Look, everyone, I don’t know what’s going on here, and, frankly, I don’t care, but if we could get to the part about Albert, I’d really appreciate it.”
Harv’s head whipped around—the antlers stayed where they were—and he looked at her with new respect. “Whoa. The lady’s got a backbone. Not your typical kind, Kal.”
“She’s my master, Harv. Leave it alone.”
“
It?
Are you sure that’s the pronoun you mean?”
Kal said something in that other language of his, and Harv responded, his chest puffing up like a peacock.
“Speak English, please,” said Samantha. “And can you answer the question, Harv? Do you or do you not know where Albert is?”
“I might.”
“That doesn’t help.”
“What will you give me to find out?” He undressed her with his eyes.
Yeah, she wouldn’t mind that blanket now. Too bad she couldn’t wish for one. But then, she wouldn’t be in this situation if she
could
wish so the point was moot. “Look, we don’t have time to play these games. Albert kidnapped a baby dragon. You’re not going to let someone just waltz in here and kidnap a baby, are you?”
Harv flicked an antler beneath her chin. “First off, gorgeous, it’s not my kid, so I don’t care. Second, I challenge anyone to waltz in here and help themselves to something I
do
care about, and, third, does this guy really waltz? Didn’t that go out in like the last century? Got yourself a real Renaissance man, have you?”
“Can you help us or not?” She crossed her arms, determined to win her own pissing contest with the Yale.
Harv studied her—all of her. She held both her tongue and her breath; Laszlo’s safety was worth a couple of leers.
Finally, Harv nodded. “We’ll talk. Let’s see what my scouts have to say. I haven’t gotten a report yet today, but as of this time yesterday, he wasn’t here.”
“Is it possible he could have shown up and you wouldn’t know?”
His antlers pointed forward like a pair of lances. “If you weren’t a newcomer here—and hot—I’d skewer you for that.”
Kal moved the antlers with a finger on each. “We know he’s been here, Harv.”
“Not possible. My minions, er, network would know.”
Kal pulled the crystal from his pants pocket. “He dropped this at the scene of the crime.”
Harv’s antler swished down to touch the crystal, but Kal pulled it out of reach and stuck it back in his pocket. “I wasn’t born yesterday, Harv. No way you’re getting your antlers on that.”
“So how did your guy? I’m having a really hard time believing you, Kal. You’re not usually so careless… Unless
she’s
got something to do with it?”
“Geez, give it a rest will you?” Samantha exhaled.
“Sure thing, gorgeous. I’ll take a rest with you. Or, better yet, we could do something to get ar
rest
ed. How’s that sound?” Harv waggled his eyebrows, and Samantha was at a loss for words. Even in Izaaz, this guy was a real character.
“Albert has one of Mayat’s amulets,” said Kal. “
That’s
how he’s avoided detection.”
The antlers fell back against Harv’s neck and he stopped leering. “Then you’re fucked. That screws the whole equation. No one can track those amulets. Their Glimmer doesn’t last as long as a djinni’s.”
“So there’s no way to find him?” Samantha asked.
“I didn’t say that, gorgeous.”
“Then there is?”
“There might be.”
“You’re infuriating, you know that?”
“I’ve been told.”
“So what do we need to do to find Albert?”
Kal touched her arm. “Sam—”
An antler waved in the air, cutting him off. “Now, now, Kal. The lady did ask me. Isn’t there something in your Code about usurping powers or some shit like that?”
Kal muttered in that foreign language again. She was going to have to have him teach it to her when this was all said and done.
“So… Let’s see… What can you do?” Harv sidled closer. Samantha’s skin crawled, but she wasn’t going to let him see her sweat. “For starters, you can hand over that lantern.”
“Kal’s?” Samantha held it up.
“Unless you’re double-dipping on the genie front.”
She snatched it away before Harv’s snake-like antler could grab hold of it. “But I thought it wasn’t of any use to you.”
Behind her, Kal groaned.
“No use? Hmm… I didn’t think djinn could lie to their masters. Kal? You want to clarify please?”
Kal was pinching the bridge of his nose when she looked at him. “Dragons can’t have lanterns, Sam. Yales, on the other hand—”
“I prefer hoof, if you don’t mind.”
Kal glared at him “Hoof, then. Anyhow, Yales can command genies because they don’t have any magic other than the obvious.” He waved toward Harv’s antlers.
“So, Harv, you want me to give you Kal’s lantern—Kal essentially—for a
maybe
?” She shook her head. “I don’t think so. How about we hear what you know and then decide?”
Harv scoffed. “No dice, gorgeous. You want what I got, you gotta play by my rules.”
“Don’t do it, Samantha.” Dirham jumped as high as her chin.
Kal caught him before he hit the ground. “Dir—”
“No, Kal, I have to say this. It’s not against any of the rules, but Samantha, you can’t give him the lantern. If he ends up with it, this place will never be the same.”
Harv snorted. “Have you seen this place, dirtbag? That would be a good thing.”
“Don’t call him that,” said Lexy, her fur bristling.
Harv’s antlers went straight up. “Sorry, little lady. Didn’t mean to ruffle anyone’s feathers. Or fur, as it were.” He cocked an eyebrow when he looked at Samantha, and his antler stroked an imaginary curly mustache. “So, do we have an agreement?”
Samantha tapped her lips. Dirham chewed on his. Lexy’s tail was flicking nervously. Kal looked like he wanted to punch something—some
one
—and Harv was rubbing his antlers together as if he’d won the lottery.
She looked at the lantern. It was one thing to give Kal up to a mother trying to find a missing child; quite another to give him up to an animal—in both the true sense of the word and the vernacular.
And she didn’t want to give him up at all.
She jumped when Kal’s cheek touched hers. “Samantha, it’s okay,” he said for her ears only. “Our one other option is to put out an APB on Albert, but if we do that, he’ll transport himself anywhere in the world he wants the minute he finds out. We need to keep him in town so we can find him before he does something to Laszlo that we may not be able to undo. A growing dragon is only a handful for so long before he becomes a liability for Albert. We don’t want to risk that. Go ahead and agree, but be sure you tell Harv to deliver Albert and then you’ll deliver the lantern—in those exact words. Everything will be fine if you do that.”
Semantics as usual.
“Any day now, gorgeous. Clock’s ticking.”
Samantha didn’t like this, but what choice did she have? “Are you sure there isn’t another way?”
Kal’s eyes were soft. Melty. And it could be the last time she saw them like that. “If I could come up with one, I’d take it. But I can’t. He’s Laszlo’s best bet, as wrong as that sounds.”
“If only I hadn’t—”