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Lynretta ping-ponged her gaze from one to the other, appearing displeased by the suggestion of lust which was a constant spark between them. “If I may go on?”
They nodded.
“After the Macedonian spent thirteen days and nights there, the camp was attacked. Thalestris describes Alexander as racing to his steed Bucephalus, sword in hand. From the back of his mighty stallion, he cut down man after man, running them through, severing limbs, slicing off heads.”
“Is there a point here?” asked Roark.
“Yes,” she gloated. “The Amazon queen said—and this is a direct quote—‘the hilt of his sword wept dragon tears.’ Don’t you see? Dragon tears. Blood. The hilt had rubies on it.”
Indigo could be generous when pressed. “This sounds promising, Lynretta. I think you have pointed us in the right direction. Thank you.”
“No need for gratitude yet. We must wait to see what we learn in Alexandria.”
“Yes, thanks, Lynretta.” Roark escorted the succubus to her seat, dropped her off, and returned to bug Indigo. When her eyes kept closing as her chin bobbed, he pulled her into his arms, cradling her head against his chest. “Rest, witch. I want you strong for the hunt.”
The hunt?
For Blood’s Kiss or for her? Maybe she’d let him capture her. Just once. She didn’t trust him—the kinda-shifter who could block spells and not shred his clothes. But what could once hurt? Indigo burrowed into his warm, solid bulk. Roark had things going for him. Cunning. Astounding good looks. Power. He could provide a distraction. She had grown too serious. When had she last had fun? With these thoughts, she drifted off to sleep.
****
Harley watched while Brak set the last box on the floor of her new apartment at the Covenkirk stronghold. When she made it clear she would not live in the same place as her parents, the Firebrand took her to his headquarters. Margo, Chay’s mate, found her a space.
After the trial ended with the jury returning a quick guilty verdict, her bodyguard had rushed her move to Scath.
Harley patted a cardboard box. “That’s the last. Thanks.”
Brak smoothed a hand through his dark hair, his gigantic bicep flinching. “Okay. Good luck.”
She had a strong, unexplainable attraction to the carnal demon. Night after night at her condo, they had exchanged innuendo and sly glances. But he remained aloof, professional, always returning alone to his down-the-hall bedroom. Pictures of him fisting himself had her mumbling and kicking off blankets in her sleep.
On Scath now, she was sure he could seek release with any woman he wanted. His room probably had a revolving door. Or no door at all. Why wasn’t she good enough for him? Asked. Answered. Because she was not hot. Too tall, average boobs, few curves, mousy hair, and glasses.
What a catch!
Harley bit her lower lip. It was now or maybe never. If he walked out today, who knew when she’d see him again? “You want a drink?” Before he could respond, she hurried from box to box, reading labels, ripping open one. “Got it.”
“No thanks. I’ll just be on my way.”
Though Brak dropped the I’m-outta-here bomb, he didn’t budge.
Was he waiting for her? Okay. She could do this. “I’m not your client anymore. Do you have to hurry?” Harley took a tentative step toward him.
His eyes snapped wide with sudden understanding. “No.” He closed the distance between them.
For such a big man, his movement was liquid grace. His huge shoulders swayed, his narrow hips rolled, his massive thighs tensed with each step. If he was trying to attract her, he did. She had read that his breed could smell arousal. If so, Brak must be drowning in her scent.
“What do you want, Harley?” He loomed over her, her breasts grazing his body while his finger caressed her cheek. When she shivered, he rested his large, calloused hands on her shoulders.
“What do you mean?” she asked, pushing her damn glasses onto her nose. If only she were a candidate for laser surgery or contacts. Everybody knew guys like Brak didn’t go for girls with spectacles.
“You know what I mean.” Brak’s muscled chest expanded. He breathed deep. “Your scent is so sweet. You drove me crazy every night with it. But I had a job to do. So I did it.” His large hands encircled her upper arms, pulling her closer. “In my bedroom, I dreamed it was your pussy around my cock. I fucked you until you screamed my name. Job’s over, Harley. If you want me now, you’re gonna get me. All of me. Make a decision. Yes or no. Trouble is, I’m not smart like you.”
“What?” Was he crazy? “You’re very smart, Brak. In a second, you sized up what was happening during an attack and got the guy. There are all kinds of intelligences. You’re brilliant.”
“No. I’m not, but I train hard.”
She swallowed. “Yes.”
