Drakon's Knight Page 10

  He looked at her, then—really looked. His eyes were pure black, but there was something in their depths. Red and violet flames. She blinked several times, not quite able to believe what she was seeing.

  “You’re a drakon?” Who believed such things? Obviously, she had, and so did Jericho.

  He nodded. “Yes. And you’re my greatest enemy.”

  Her stomach sank. It wasn’t safe to be his foe, to be on the wrong side of any of these men. Drakons aside, they reeked of danger, of determination and drive. They’d do whatever it took to get a job done.

  “Why haven’t you already killed me?” Maybe she was crazy to ask, to remind him of his original intention, but she had to know.

  He gave a rough laugh, but it wasn’t a pleasant sound. “Why? I’ve asked myself that a dozen times since I pulled you from the wreckage.” He absently rubbed his chest. “It seems Fate or Nature or whatever you want to call it is a fickle bitch and has played a mean trick on us both.”

  She didn’t want to ask, afraid of the answer. “And that trick is?”

  He leaned forward, a scowl on his rough-hewn face. “That you’re my mate.”

  “What?” Surely, she hadn’t heard him correctly. Sexual attraction, she understood. The crazy chemistry that existed between them could be explained away as a combination of adrenaline, pheromones, and the danger surrounding her. But his mate? What did that even mean?

  He nodded. “Oh, yes. I’ve lived for thousands of years.”

  Thousands of years old? He’d said he was a drakon, but him saying it and her believing it were two quite different things.

  “In all that time, I’ve never been tempted to stay with a woman, never wanted to keep one for my very own. The emptiness has grown over the centuries, a hole in my soul that keeps getting larger.” He pinned her with a glare. “Then I met you.”

  Karina jumped up and took several steps away, tension creeping into every part of her. She didn’t know why. There was nowhere to run. Nothing she could do to escape. “No,” she whispered, her chest aching. She couldn’t believe what he was saying. It was too crazy to even consider. She got lightheaded, the room swirling around her. Sweat seeped from her pores.

  His grin was anything but pleasant. “Believe me, I’m no happier about this than you are.”

  Yet he’d taken care of her, he’d kissed her. She was so bloody confused, not sure what was truth or fiction.

  “Prove it,” she demanded. It was easy enough to disprove. Or confirm, a small voice in the back of her head whispered.

  He slowly rose to his feet, legs spread wide and hands on his hips. This was a very dangerous man, not the kind you challenged. “Prove what?”

  There was no backing down. Her life and very future were at stake. “That you’re a dragon. No, a drakon. That’s what you are, aren’t you? That’s what you all are?” Her laugh sounded slightly hysterical, even to her own ears. She was also babbling, so she slammed her mouth shut.

  Like some great beast, he stalked toward her, pure menace surrounding him. He looked every inch a man who’d kidnap or kill if it was expedient to do so. She backed up until she hit the wall. Then she tilted her chin up, refusing to be intimidated.

  He dragged his thumb over the curve of her jaw and ran his fingers down her neck, a caress and a subtle threat at the same time. Those large, powerful hands of his could easily snap her spine and end her in a heartbeat.

  A shiver raced through her, and goose bumps rose on her arms.

  “You want me to prove I’m a drakon.” Hypnotized by his eyes, she was unable to answer. They were deep and dark and filled with some emotion she couldn’t quite identify. Lust? Anger? Regret? Maybe a combination of all three.

  Speaking was beyond her with him so close that his words were puffs of breath against her lips. She gave a single nod.

  He spun away and stalked toward the door. She started to ask him where he was going, but it became obvious when he yanked the door open, paused, and turned back. “Coming?” he asked.

  Straightening her spine as much as possible, she followed him, hoping her legs would carry her. In spite of her bravado, she was weak and more than a little afraid.

  The other three were waiting outside. They were all hard men. No not men. If what Jericho had told her was true, then they were also drakons, like him.

  She didn’t want to believe it, but it didn’t seem like she was going to have a choice.

  That phrase echoed in her mind. The truth of it settled deep within her heart. Choices—she’s never really been given any, had never had any real options. Her entire life had been planned from the day she was born, her destiny set by virtue of who her parents had been.

  There was no time to think, no time to ponder that realization as Jericho stripped off his shirt.

  Muscles rippled as he exposed rock-hard abs, defined pecs, and shoulders a mile wide. Colorful tattoos ranged up and down both arms and covered his chest. Fierce and proud, he was the perfect male specimen.

  He didn’t stop there, but unlaced his boots and removed them, along with his socks.

  “What are you doing?” she finally asked when his fingers went to the button of his jeans.

  “I’m leaving no doubts in your mind,” he told her. He shoved the jeans down and off, standing in front of her completely naked.

  She sat down hard on the step. A clothed Jericho was intimidating enough. Naked, he was even more fearsome. There wasn’t an ounce of spare fat anywhere. He was almost seven feet of pure sculpted muscle. His large feet were planted on the ground, giving him an aura of solidity. His calves and thighs rippled when he shifted his weight.

  Unable to resist the temptation, her gaze rose to his groin. He was fully aroused, his cock spearing upright, thick and long. The swirling stylized tattoo that covered the entire left side of his body from neck to ankle was even visible on the left half of his penis.

  He was primal and dangerous. A force of nature.

  She made herself look away, but her gaze met Sadiq’s. There she read the stark promise of death.

  “Karina.” At her name, she turned back to Jericho. “Watch,” he told her.

  The air around him seemed to shimmer, and the other men stepped back. It was dark outside, but there was more than enough light spilling from the inside of the house to illuminate the yard.

  Karina couldn’t look away as his form changed. The man disappeared, swallowed up by a much larger creature. Facial features shifted—head flattening and jaw elongating. His body grew until it filled the space before her. Blood-red scales, outlined in black, covered him. His tail—long and thick—doubled his size. He huffed, and a plume of smoke escaped from his nose.

  Unable to believe what she was witnessing, she pinched the skin of her arm, hard. Even when pain shot through her, she doubted her senses. This should be impossible. Yet he was standing right in front of her. Had they drugged her? She didn’t think so. Maybe she’d been injured more severely in the crash than she’d realized and was even now in a coma in some hospital. “Jericho?”

  He nodded and lowered his head. “Yes.” His voice was deeper and gruffer, but it was unmistakably his.

  Karina was speechless. All she could do was stare.

  He was beautiful in a basic, animalistic way. Absolutely magnificent. Much too wild and untamed to be caged. But that’s apparently what she’d been responsible for. “I’m sorry.” It seemed so little to say in the face of her apparent crimes.

  “For what?” he asked.

  “The group I’m part of captures your kind, don’t they?” That seemed such an unforgiveable crime from where she was sitting.

  He nodded.

  “How is that even possible?” she muttered. It should have been impossible, given his size and intellect.

  Sadiq leaned on the porch pillar beside her. “Oh, you have your ways. Never doubt it. But we’re smarter than the average drakon.”

  She didn’t doubt that, not for one second. There was something special about
this group of men. They were not only friends. The bond went much deeper. They’d die for one another. She knew that all the way to her bones.

  Who would risk themselves for her? She doubted anyone would.

  Khalil and Enoch joined them. It took her a second to figure out which one was which, since they looked remarkably alike, but she remembered that Khalil’s hair was longer. “I’ve finished researching the tattoo,” Enoch announced.

  The air shimmered, and in the blink of an eye, Jericho went from beast to man. He grabbed his clothes and pulled them on. When he was dressed, he motioned to the door. “Let’s take this inside.”

  …

  Jericho wished he knew what Karina was thinking. She was very calm for someone who’d just witnessed a man turning into a dragon. Was she lying about not remembering?

  When she went to stand up, she quickly sat back down again. He was beside her in a heartbeat. “What is it?” he demanded.

  She gave a shaky laugh. “I’m just not very steady at the moment.”

  She wasn’t nearly as composed as she outwardly appeared. He wondered if showing weakness was forbidden in her world. He imagined it would have to be for someone in her position.

  Not giving her time to object, he lifted her into his arms, loving the weight and feel of her there. The others were already in the kitchen. Khalil and Enoch would follow his lead, at least for now. Sadiq, on the other hand, would question his every step.

  He wouldn’t want it any other way.

  After setting her down in a chair, he went to the refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of water. “Here.” He unscrewed the top and handed it to her.

  “Thank you.”

  He made sure she had several sips before turning to Enoch. “What do you have?”

  “The design of the tattoo.” He held up his phone so they could all see it.

  “What about it?” His curiosity was aroused. So was Karina’s. She sat forward, setting the bottle on the table.

  “Basically, it’s a labyrinth, but not a real one. There should be a way in and out for it to be a true one. But there are no exits. No entrances. Or there wasn’t until the piece of shrapnel cut into her skin during the accident. It sliced right through the pattern.”

  “What does that mean?” Jericho asked.

  “I dug through the database I created. I even hacked into a few of the Knight’s records and poked around.”

  “You can do that?” she asked, seeming surprised.

  Enoch nodded and smiled. “Not many places I can’t go online.”

  “That’s all fascinating,” Jericho interjected, his temper getting shorter by the second. “But what the hell does it mean?”

  “From everything I’ve read, it’s used in a suppression spell, keeping something locked away in an endless loop with no way out.”

  “Suppression of what? And why would I have gotten it?” Karina asked, a bewildered expression on her face.

  “That’s the thing,” Enoch continued. “I don’t know what it’s supposed to keep in check.” He hesitated and glanced at Jericho. Whatever he was about to say wouldn’t be good.

  “Finish it,” he told Enoch. They all needed to know.

  “Okay, this particular symbol, if used in the spell I think it was used in, is powerful shit. The ink would have been mixed with blood, Karina’s and whoever put the symbol there.”

  “Magic? You’re telling me magic is real? Why not,” she muttered. “Drakons are real.” Karina reached for the water and took a deep swallow. She was even paler than before. “Why would I have agreed to something like that? It doesn’t make sense.”

  “The tattoo is old.” Enoch stood. “May I?” He stood next to her and waited.

  When she bit her lower lip, Jericho almost groaned. His entire body tightened, every muscle flexing. A low growl escaped him when she slipped one arm out of her sweater and pulled it aside so Enoch could get to the bandage.

  His friend waited until he nodded. Very gently, Enoch peeled the bandage away. “Can I take a sample?”

  “No,” he thundered. No way was he letting anyone cut into her skin. The thought of slicing into her, making her bleed, made his dragon crazy. She was his mate, his woman. His job was to protect her, not harm her.

  “A sample of what?” she asked.

  “He wants to cut a small piece of the tattoo away so he can test it.”

  “That’s possible?” Without waiting for a reply, she nodded at Enoch. “Do it.”

  But his friend knew better and simply waited.

  “Fuck,” he swore. “Let me do it.” Khalil, the helpful fucker, had a sterile scalpel he must have found in a first aid kit, as well as a small sample bag. Jericho had no idea where that had come from.

  “I’ll try not to hurt you,” he told her. Like she had reason to believe that, considering everything that had already gone down.

  “Just get it over with,” she told him.

  He focused all his attention on the tattoo. One of the edges where Khalil had stitched the wound was loose. That was the spot he chose. He, who had assassinated so many without hesitation, now paused.

  She took a deep breath, and he heard the quiver. Waiting was only making it worse, so he cut swiftly and cleanly, taking a tiny piece, likely smaller than Enoch wanted. Blood seeped from the area. Enoch grabbed the scalpel with the skin sample. Again, Khalil was ready with a bandage that he used to close the wound. It was all over within seconds.

  “That wasn’t so bad.” She took another shaky breath. “What will it be able to tell us?”

  He helped her get her arm back into her sleeve and smoothed down her top. The scent of her blood, the sight of her discomfort, had killed his erection and hurt him more than he’d thought possible.

  “Maybe the age of the mark,” Enoch told her. “Possibly the content of the ink. I’m not sure about that. The sample may be too small.” He gave Jericho a questioning look. Jericho shot up his middle finger in response. No way was anyone cutting into her again. He wouldn’t be responsible for the fallout if such a thing occurred. His primal, protective instincts had ratcheted into high gear.

  “I need to do more research,” his friend continued. “The damage done from the accident and the stitches has changed the pattern. It most likely has lessened or even broken the spell. Hard to say. In the end, maybe it’s nothing more than a pretty tattoo.”

  “In the meantime, you had a memory earlier,” Jericho reminded her, “maybe you’ll have more now.”

  Sadiq practically pushed him aside so he was standing in front of Karina. “She had a memory?” His gaze narrowed when he glanced down at her.

  He shoved his friend back, putting space between Sadiq and Karina. Inside, his dragon roared, not happy having these other unmated drakons around his mate, not when he hadn’t properly claimed her yet.

  “Tell us,” Sadiq demanded, not in the least bit put off by Jericho’s show of possession.

  Karina glanced at Jericho, and he nodded. He kept nothing from his friends. “I caught a glimpse of a dragon. Or a drakon, rather, in his dragon form,” she corrected. “And a man. The man was laughing at the creature.” She shuddered.

  “You were there but did nothing. Hell, you probably helped the guy capture the drakon.” Sadiq leaned forward, his attitude threatening.

  Jericho grabbed him by the arm and pulled him back. “Enough.”

  “No. It’s not nearly enough. For thousands of years, humans have sought to control us, but none have been as dangerous as the Knights of the Dragon. They’re organized and determined. And they all follow their bitch leader. Your family has been hunting our kind for generations. You’re just the latest in a long line.”

  Karina flinched beneath Sadiq’s anger. Her hands were knotted in her lap, but she didn’t beg for mercy, didn’t protest her innocence.

  “I’m sorry.”

  His friend gave a bitter laugh. “You’re sorry. I guess that makes it all right, then. How many drakons are in captivity even now, feeding the
greed and power-lust of people just like you?”

  She swallowed hard. “If I am that person—”

  “You are,” Sadiq interrupted, not letting her finish. Jericho watched it all play out, keeping an eye on them both. As much as he wanted to protect her, maybe the confrontation would help her remember. And Sadiq needed to vent his anger. He was here to keep it from getting out of hand.

  “I don’t want to be that person anymore,” she whispered.

  “How do you know?” Jericho asked. “What if when you get your memory back, you want to enslave all of us? It’s what you do. Why?” That was something he never really understood. Even less, now that he’d met her.

  Karina didn’t seem greedy or power-hungry. But then, he didn’t know the real woman, did he? He knew this injured version, the one without a past.

  “I don’t know.” She rubbed her head again.

  Shouldn’t she be getting better? How long did it take a human to heal? “Where is her medication?”

  “What medication?” she asked.

  “Pills for headaches. We took them from your purse before destroying the rest.” He held out his hand. Sadiq reached into his pocket, pulled out the container, and tossed it to him.

  He popped the lid and offered her one. She shrank back in her chair. “No.”

  He glanced at his friends. This was unexpected. “Why not? They’re yours.” He pointed to the label, making sure it was facing her so she could easily read it. “Your name is on here.”

  “I stopped taking them,” she whispered and glanced around, almost fearfully, almost as if expecting someone else to be there. Sadiq started to speak, but Jericho shook his head. Karina’s eyes were dilated. She seemed lost in a memory.

  “Why did you stop? Didn’t they help?” He kept his voice low and even, hoping it would keep her talking.

  “He lied to me.”

  “Who lied?” It was important to all of them that they get answers.

  She pressed her fingers against her temple. Her face contorted with pain. “I don’t know.” If he’d thought she was pale before, now she was positively snow white.