Chase Me Page 2

  “Hey, stop right this instant or I’ll bring out the self-defense moves.”

  “Save your defense for the council. You’ll need it.”

  This dude was seriously wack-a-doo. Where was the pepper spray when she needed it? Oh, that’s right, still in the bag from the store her mother had insisted they buy in bulk from.

  “Let me go.”

  “Return my relic.”

  “I’m gonna make you a relic.”

  “Save your spells, witch.”

  “Your face is a witch.”

  The scary man released her and grabbed at his face. When he didn’t find anything wrong with it, he narrowed his eyes and glared at her. “Good try, witch. You’ll pay for that.”

  Ciara pivoted and bolted weaving her way between the tables. One second she was zigging and zagging the next she was air born.

  Great talons gripped her shoulders and a deep whoosh-whoosh-whoosh sounded above her.

  She wriggled and screamed and frantically tried to see what was happening above her. Her feet crashed into empty glasses and caught a centerpiece of giant lillies dead on as she was dragged through the air above the tables.

  Before she could even take another breath to scream again they swooped out of the French doors, over the balcony and into the night sky.

  Ciara lost her effing mind as the ground beneath her sunk down into tiny squares of land. She couldn’t look any longer or she’d throw up. So instead she glanced up not for a second fathoming that she’d see, flying above her, the giant wings, flapping gracefully through the sky, of a dragon.

  2500

  CHAPTER TWO

  A Whole New World

  The little thief wriggling in his talons was going to drive him batshit crazy.

  No, no. She wasn’t little. She was curvascious, luscious. Absolutely edible. Good Gods, that ass. He could sink his hands into those hips and worship that plump rear end of hers for years, centuries, millennia. If she were anyone other than the thief who’d stolen the Wyr’s most precious reliquary he’d wine and dine her, woo her with all his jewels and wealth until she agreed to go to bed with him.

  As it were if he didn’t get her to reveal where she’d hidden the relic and how she’d stolen it in the first place he’d have to take her before the AllWyr Council, and that meant admitting he’d lost the relic of the First Dragon.

  There had to be another way to get her to talk.

  “Let me go, you, you, monster.”

  “You don’t really want me to do that a hundred meters over the ocean do you, witch? That water is probably very cold and teeming with unfriendly sea life that would love to take a bite out of your plump ass.”

  “Eep.” She stilled and fell silent. Whether it was his threat or because he’d spoken telepathically into her mind didn’t matter. At least she wasn’t wriggling below him anymore.

  For seven blissful minutes they soared through the air toward the continent and his home. Cage Gylden’s golden dragons waited for him every thousand kilomenters or so into the flight and gave them another push with their power over the warm winds.

  Surprisingly he didn’t need as much of their help coming back as he did going. He wasn’t getting as tired, as if he had a renewed energy. He felt stronger now when he should already be exhausted.

  The golds were discreet and kept well out of sight. He’d have a lot of explaining to do to Cage in the coming days about why he needed the emergency flight across the Atlantic on such short notice.

  If he was lucky he’d have the relic back before then.

  “How did you do that?” The fear had gone from her voice. Interesting.

  “Do what?”

  “That. Talk but not talk. I can hear you in my head.”

  Silly witch. “I can not speak in my dragon form.”

  “No lips.”

  A chuckle rumbled through his chest. She was right.

  “I hope that sound wasn’t your stomach rumbling. Dragons don’t eat people, right? You must eat sheep and small cows or something.”

  He’d love to eat her right up. “No Dragons have eaten a human or a witch in several hundred years.”

  “So, you aren’t going to kill me?”

  “Not if you tell me where the reliquary is.”

  She fell silent again and he almost missed her prattling. She had to be terrified flying through the air, across the middle of the ocean, in the night, in the talons of a dragon. There was a small glimmer of admiration that she wasn’t acting some damsel in distress, one of those screamy meemy scared women.

  On the other claw, she’d stolen the First Dragon’s heart. She deserved every misfortune he could inflict upon her body.

  So, so many things he wanted to do to her body.

  Another ten minutes and she was shivering enough that the rattle of her teeth worried him. He’d never get her to answer any questions if she froze to death. The warm air from the last gold dragon had faded too fast, and the sunrise was only just warming the sky.

  He’d bring their altitude down [AD1]but the coast was in sight and he didn’t want to be spotted flying over France or Germany. “We’re almost to my home.”

  “Is that where you’re taking me? Where exactly is your home or should I call it a lair? Oh, god, do you live in a cave? Am I going to have to live amongst your giant piles of gold coins?”

  Good to see hypothermia hadn’t affected her ability to speak. He would begin his interrogation the second he got her inside. “I do not live in a cave. I have a villa in the countryside near Prague.”

  “Really? I’ve always wanted to go to Prague.”

  “This will be no vacation for you.”

  “Well, I’m certainly not recommending Dragon Airlines to my friends and family. The service sucks and the inflight food was horrible.”

  What a strange little witch he’d kidnapped. Jakob smiled to himself. Interregation or not, he could hardly wait to see what she’d do next.

  He’d get the relic back from her, no doubt, but he was going to have fun doing it.

  A few moments later the Volga river came into view and he dropped to only a few hundred feet above the ground. His villa loomed in the distance. He could fly her directly to the second floor guest room. He would stow her there behind locked doors until she revealed the relic. But in the back garden stood a haystack for the animals from his summer wheat harvest.

  Jakob circled the stack, getting lower with each pass and when they were a few meters above, opened his claws and dropped her directly on top.

  She squealed and tumbled into the hay, getting buried in the stalks.

  Bullseye.

  He landed next to the stack and shifted back into his human form. The hay and area around them glowed with a green light. What the hell was going on with his soul shard? He tucked it into his shirt and called to his enchantress. “Ciara, my little witch, come out of your hiding place and tell me where you’ve hidden my relic.”

  “Ack.” Rustling came from inside the haystack.

  A light shined out from the stalks, matching that of his shard. Strange. But, it guided him to her. “That is not a hiding place.”

  “Ooh. You shut up and get me out of here. I’m stuck. All I see is poky pieces of hay everywhere. It’s a hay avalanche. I don’t even know which way is up. Help.”

  Jakob reached one hand and arm in, rooted around for a minute and then grasped the shoulder he found. Too bad he hadn’t accidentally come upon a softer part of her anatomy to grab on to. That beautiful heart-shaped ass for example.

  Demons be damned, he couldn’t get that particular part of her anatomy out of his head. It didn’t matter one whit if her backside turned him all kinds of on or not. She was a witch and a thief and her would interrogate her to within a whisper of her life or until she gave back the relic.

  He clasped the witch’s shoulder tight and pulled her toward him until she popped out of the haystack tumbling head over tail, landing on top of him.

  Her lush body pressed against
him and he was instantly hard. It had to be a spell. No female, witch, fairy, demon, or human had ever addled his brain this way. Maybe she was a succubus.

  “If you wanted a roll in the hay, all you had to do was buy me a drink and tell me I’m pretty. You didn’t need to fly me halfway around the world.”

  For having been dragged halfway across the world, she was oddly calm. She brushed the hair off her face and sat up so that she was straddling him. Jesus, an inch lower and her sex would be perfectly aligned with his.

  “Get off me.”

  A necklace with a crystal heart surrounded by wire shaped into quadrants representing the four elements dangled from her neck. It was almost as beautiful and fascinating as she was.

  She picked another piece of hay out of her hair and straightened her clothes. “You get off me.”

  The tree in her necklace shimmered at him. “I’m not on you.”

  “Are you sure? I can’t seem to move. You’re doing something very mesmerizing with your eyes. It’s making me want to lift up your shirt and sprinkle kisses all over your body.”

  Yes. She should do that, immediately.

  “You are the one casting lust spells. I suggest you cease immediately, they won’t affect me and you’ll only drain your energy. Now get off.”

  Jakob gripped her around the waist. Such a gorgeous overfull hourglass figure she had. It took him a whole count of ten before he could talk himself into lifting her up and off instead of tighter to his own aching body.

  He needed to get away from her before her spells took total control of his mind and made a liar out of him. In one fast movement he picked her up and stood, then stepped away.

  “Hey. You’re the one who kidnapped me, so don’t go feeling all victimized that I landed on top of you. I’m sorry if I squished any manly bits.”

  “Manly bits?”

  “Yes,” she waved a hand below his belt, “you know, man parts, male anatomy, your penis. Wait, do dragon-men have penises?”

  Jakob looked to where she indicated. “You were worried you damaged my cock?”

  “Yes. I’m not exactly a lithe pixie if you hadn’t noticed.”

  “I noticed.” Boy, had he noticed. He couldn’t stop noticing to the point his tongue was ready to loll out his head and drool all over her.

  His witch’s gaze went straight to the ground and she crossed one arm over the other. Her cheeks had gone a lovely blushed pink. He’d much rather see her skin flush from sexual pleasure than embarrassment. What in the world did she have to be embarrassed about?

  Ah, she was human, and human culture had developed some bizarre fascination with half-dead twigs of women in the past hundred years. Ridiculous.

  “Come along, luscious witch.” He turned and strode toward the French doors to his study that overlooked the gardens.

  “I’m not going in your house. I don’t know you, you could be a serial killer or a psycho or a—”

  “Dragon?”

  “If you’ll just point me toward Prague, I’ll be going now.”

  “It’s a twelve hour walk to the outskirts of Prague from here. I don’t think you’ll make it without your shoes.”

  She looked down at her feet and wiggled her toes. He’d never really been one for a foot fetish, but she had sexy feet. Nails painted the exact shade of his iridescent green scales when he was in his dragon form.

  “Come inside. I won’t bite.” Yet.

  “Promise?”

  “Of course.” No.

  He turned and walked toward the back terrace before he did bite her. Right in that sweet spot between her neck and shoulder. “We simply need to resolve this matter like adults.”

  She stayed put for another moment and then hurried to catch up with him. “Kidnapping me isn’t exactly what I’d call a grown-up decision.”

  He shrugged, because it was either that or dip her over his arm and kiss his way across her chest. “You left me no choice.”

  “You could have believed me when I said I didn’t have your thingamabob.”

  Why was she feigning knowledge of the relic? He could scent it on her. She must be a master at her craft, because he could also scent she wasn’t lying. But, he knew she was. “It’s an ancient relic and you could have simply told me where it was, or even better given it back.”

  “But, I don’t have it.”

  Her truth, or her ignorance, or her spell smelled of a field after a fresh rain. “I can scent it on you.”

  “You’ve been smelling me?” She frowned. “That’s weird.”

  “Dragons can scent treasure, emotions, desire.” She smelled of all three. She wasn’t scared, but she was interested. The underlying sweet musk of her arousal toward him was going to turn his brain to mush.

  “Like a dog?”

  “No. Quit stalling and come inside.” He motioned toward the door holding out his arm hoping this time she would comply.

  She straightened her spine, wrinkled up one side of her nose, and marched past him. Thank god.

  He couldn’t blame her for being cautious. In fact, he admired her courage. He had kidnapped her after all. She was being remarkably calm about the whole thing. Why was that?

  They entered through his study and he led her through and to the grand room, intending on taking her to the antechamber of his trove. He’d be able to gauge her reaction, be able to watch for signs that she was nervous being there again. Maybe even get a tell on how she’d gotten in undetected.

  But, at the last moment, he veered toward the kitchen. “Are you hungry? It’s midday, and I’m sure cook has something delicious in the refrigerator or pantry.” He kept his tone light and inviting. Maybe if she felt welcome and relaxed instead of kidnapped and persecuted she would simply give him the relic back.

  “Umm. I’m good. Thanks though.”

  “Perhaps some wine then. Our local Moravian vintages are quite nice.”

  “Why are you being so nice to me all of a sudden?”

  Busted.

  “I told you, we can settle this like adults. We’ll eat, drink, and you’ll tell me where you’ve hidden the relic.”

  “But, I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  She must have cast a spell that cloaked her lies. He should be able to scent them. No one could lie to a dragon. But, she clearly was.

  “Fine. We’ll do it your way.” Enough was enough. Jakob grabbed the witch by the wrist and dragged her back into the great room and then up the stairs.

  “Where are we going? Stop. Let go, you’re hurting me.”

  He slammed open the door to the guest room, with its four-poster bed where he could tie her up and torture her until she came…uh, told him what she’d done with the relic.

  “No, no, no.” The witch tried to stop and pull away from him, fighting to get out of his grasp.

  She was no match for him. He continued into the room and threw her on the bed.

  “Get away from me. I will scream. Surely someone will stop you from hurting me.” She scrambled off and held out her hands, glaring at him.

  So fierce. So fucking gorgeous.

  “I have never and would never brutalize a woman. But, I am not above intense interrogation. Tell me where the relic is and we can avoid all of this.”

  “I don’t have your god-damned relic, you dickwad,” she yelled and a white wind blew her hair.

  Her anger zipped around them, stinging his senses. She was finally loosing her zen-like cool. Now he was getting somewhere.

  He’d push her until she let her delicious powers loose. He could practically taste the flavor of her intense emotions that lay beneath the surface. “Then who does?”

  “How am I supposed to know, you fucktard?” The humidity was sucked out of the room and tiny snowflakes crystalized around her.

  Interesting mix of powers. Did she control wind, temperature? She’d be the perfect match for a golden dragon.

  The bottom of his stomach opened into a black abyss at the thought of any other dr
agon possessing her. More of her spells no doubt.

  He was on a roll, pushing her, soon her cloak would break and he’d pinpoint her lies. “Do you have a partner? Tell me, did your coven helped you steal it?”

  “I don’t have a coven, because I’m not a witch, asshat.”

  Her name-calling was beginning to amuse him. He needed to stay angry. Retrieving the relic was more important than his damned attraction to her.

  The shard hiding beneath his shirt buzzed as if it didn’t agree.

  “If you’re not a witch, why were you casting spells?”

  She punched the bed, then looked at her fist, her pretty blues eyes wide and for the first time, scared. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and took another. When she opened them again the wind, frost in the air, and her fear and anger were gone.

  Too bad, she was damn sexy when she was all worked up.

  In a tone he could only call dulcet, she said, “I am not a witch. I am a wedding planner. I do not know what a relic is or where yours might be. I did not steal anything from you. Now please take me home.”

  Wasn’t that interesting. She’d gone from emotion so strong her magic manifested around her to calm and collected, magic banked away, in the matter of two breaths. That was not a skill she’d come up with in the last minute. This was a practiced.

  Who or what in her life troubled her so badly that she’d had to learn to hide her true emotions this way?

  A flight across the ocean in his dragon form hadn’t scared her enough to make her subservient to his wishes. Plying her with kindness hadn’t worked. Demanding the information and raising her ire had gotten him closer.

  Emotions would be the key to breaking her. But, anger wouldn’t work. She’d proven her ability to mask and control that. He would need to develop a completely different plan of attack to get what he wanted from her.

  Anger and hate were strong emotions. So was lust.

  He already knew she was attracted to him. She hasn’t been able to hide that.

  If she wouldn’t tell him what he wanted to know, he’d seduce it out of her.

  In bed.