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Authors: Dana Marie Bell

BOOK: Artistic Vision
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“Please do.” As if Shane would allow
Akane
to be sent to anyone’s home but his own. This one was special. This one was
theirs
, and some day Akane would accept it, and the artist, and all that went with them. Until then, until the day he could Claim and Bind his mate to him,
Akane
would stay with him.

Shane grinned as the assistant wheeled
Akane
to the back of the gallery and through the storeroom doors. He couldn’t wait.

He thanked the gallery owner and left. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number he’d long since learned by heart. “She’s going home.”

“Good. She saw your sculpture?”

“Yup. And she reacted the way you predicted she would.”

A soft, feminine laugh sounded in his ear. “Did you make her present yet?”

Shane grinned. He’d been working on Akane’s birthday present since the day he met her. “It’s almost complete. I have the final component now. I’ll finish it once I’m back in my studio.”

“Wonderful. I look forward to hearing my daughter’s screams of frustration.”

I look forward to hearing your daughter scream for an entirely different reason.
“I’m sure she’ll find many hours of pleasure in it.”

“I’m certain she will as well. Have a good flight, Shane.”

“Thank you, Seer.” Shane hung up and took a deep, happy breath. So far everything was going the way he’d hoped it would. He was allowing little bits and pieces of the
real
Shane to shine through for his mate, just enough to tease, to tantalize, to keep the dragoness sneaking closer and closer instead of driving her away. Akane had no desire to have a mate, but as far as he was concerned it was already too late.

She had one, and she’d learn to love him whether she wanted to or not. And if she doubted that?

Well. She’d never dealt with a determined Nebraska farm boy before. Akane was in for a rude awakening if she thought for one moment he was ever going to let her get away.

He remembered his first sight of her, her long, meticulously curled black hair gleaming in the moonlight as she tried to fake him out. She’d acted all innocent, her huge, strange eyes wide, her pouty lips pursed in a smile. Her mother’s Japanese heritage was all over her. With her almond-shaped eyes and small nose she’d looked like an anime doll brought to life. It was only in her dragon form her father’s ancestry shone through, from the tips of her wings to the slash of her tail. She’d turned out to be a tiny little thing when he finally got her out of her car, barely five feet tall if he were to guess, with a waist his hands could span easily and a temper that could light the world on fire. All of it was hidden behind an assumed innocence that made him laugh just to think of it. And her eyes…oh, those gorgeous eyes of hers. Shane got hard with just a glance from of those incredible eyes. One eye was a pure light hazel; the other, dark brown with a startling light hazel star in the center. Black brows were a straight slash above them, giving her a stern expression, and were probably a truer indication of the woman than the big eyes and pouty mouth.

Gods, he wanted that mouth in the worst way.

“Shane Dunne, is that you?”

Shane froze. That haughty voice was familiar. “Henri Malmayne. What a surprise.” He turned to face the blond man and his equally blonde companions. Henri was the new White Court lord of the Malmayne clan, duly appointed by Glorianna herself once she’d removed Duncan Malmayne as lord. She’d removed him because his new brother-in-law had mated not just Shane’s baby sister but his bond-brother, the vampire Jaden Blackthorn. Glorianna hated vampires with an unholy passion. It was unheard of for any of her people, let alone the lord of a clan as powerful as the Malmaynes to have a vampiric mate. Most vampires who chose not to walk on the dark side were Gray Court for that reason.

The problem was, the Queen of the White Court had put in place a lord whose allegiance was, at best, murky. At worst, Henri was working with the Black Court to control a prophecy he couldn’t possibly understand. Shane himself was still uncertain what was supposed to happen. How could Henri hope to even begin to comprehend it? All they had to go on was the Seer’s obscure words:
A child of Dunne will change the world as we know it
. Being the Malmaynes, they’d latched onto Leo, the most Sidhe of the Dunnes, thinking his seed would provide the much sought-after child. They’d kidnapped Shane first. When they hadn’t been able to force Leo’s compliance, they’d kidnapped Ruby, Leo’s bondmate, and tortured her, all for a few vague words.

Worst of all, they’d used Black Court help to do it.

“Why would you be surprised? The Malmaynes have many businesses in New York.” Cecelia Malmayne was hanging all over her cousin Henri, smirking at Shane like he was dog poo she’d narrowly avoided stepping in. “What are you doing here? Hoping to catch some culture?”

Her sister, Constance, merely looked confused, as if she couldn’t understand what a rube like him was doing out of the sticks. Didn’t these people know one of the richest humans in America lived in Omaha? That it was counted among the top ten cities to live and work in?

He gave the blonde bitch his biggest, goofiest smile. It seemed to drive women like her insane. “Gee, Miz Malmayne, I sure do hope so.” He resisted rolling his eyes. His father might not be as politically powerful as the Malmaynes, but he was just as rich as they were. Leprechauns were good at making money, especially in land development. But because he chose to live his life working his land, Sidhe like the Malmaynes looked down on the Dunnes.

Idiots.

Something flashed before his eyes, and Shane took a quick step back and to the side. “Y’all watch out for that—”

Henri, Cecelia and Constance shrieked as a cab pulled up to the curb in a sudden, lurching stop, spraying them with slushy, filthy water.

“Cab.” Holding back his grin, Shane opened its door and climbed in. “It was sure nice seein’ ya!” He grinned once more, knowing exactly how he looked: non-threatening. Their low grumbles were music to his ears as he slammed the door shut and the cab pulled away, the cabbie snickering quietly all the while.

“God, I hate them.”

Shane stared at the cabbie. Huh. A sudden, clean breeze in the otherwise sealed cab told him all he needed to know. “Are they giving the sylphs here grief?”

“The sylphs, the brownies, the sprites, you name it. Anyone of the quote-unquote lesser fae have to deal with their shit. Fuckin’ assholes.” The sylph hit a red light and turned, his bright blue eyes full of laughter. “You’re the hybrid, aintcha?”

Shane blinked. “Um…” How the fuck did this guy know who he was?

The cabbie grinned and turned back around. “You keep giving Akane a run for her money. She’ll give in.” He sniggered. “Eventually.”

“You know her?”

“She saved my sister from a Black Court vampire. Tore the fucker’s head clean off his shoulders. As far as I’m concerned, she walks on water and turns shit into gold.”

“She’s mentioned me?”

The cabbie laughed. “Let’s just say you’re gettin’ under her skin.”

Shane turned to look out the side window with a wicked grin. “Good.”

He barely acknowledged the fae’s chuckle. He had to get home before Akane did, or the jig would be up. He’d fly into Omaha and make his way to his studio. If she arrived at the farm before he did, he could always claim truthfully that he’d been there, working on a new piece. His fingers twitched, eager to get his hands back on his work, the visions driving him into the studio almost as strong as his desire to have Akane for his own.

She’d found another piece of him now, another something he’d managed to keep hidden from her. He couldn’t wait until he was with her again. Had she managed to puzzle anything else out?

And maybe, just maybe, he’d steal a kiss from his dragon and find out what fire really tasted like.

 

 

Akane pulled up outside the Dunne farmhouse. It was an old Victorian, stately and tall. It was difficult to tell the color in the dark, but it was a soothing blue, the trim a blinding white. A huge wrap-around porch with a real porch swing gave the old Victorian a homey feel.

Hell. There was that word again: home. She couldn’t let herself get too attached to this place, or the people in it. She was a Blade, and one of Robin’s finest assassins. She couldn’t afford what a loving family would do to her.

Akane yawned so hard her jaw ached. Gods, she was weary. At least Robin had put his personal plane at her disposal, allowing her some peace on the long flight from Nebraska to New York and back again. But the drive from Omaha to the farm had forced her to acknowledge exactly how exhausted she was. She could use a good long soak in the tub and a quiet night to recharge and refresh. She’d never learned the knack of sleeping on a plane. Something about sleeping while flying just sat wrong with her.

She stepped out of her brand new Porsche Boxster and ran her fingers down the gleaming black finish. God, she loved this car. If Shane did anything to her new baby she’d rip his gonads off. It was his fault the last one had gotten blasted to smithereens. If he hadn’t hidden it in the barn the day Charles Malmayne had sent the redcaps to attack the Dunne farm, the salamander would never have blown it to bits.

At the sound of a deep bark she grinned. “Sal!” She crouched down, accepting ferocious doggie kisses from the fifty-pound German shepherd. A lick of fire danced across her skin as the dog wiggled, happily welcoming its mistress home.

“Do I get a kiss too?”

Akane fell on her ass at the sound of that deep drawl. “Fuck.”

“Well, I thought that might come later, but if you’re that eager…”

She glared up at the man who’d managed to give her more than one sleepless night. He was grinning down at her, his big, scarred hands deep in his pockets, his butt resting on the hood of the car. He had one ankle crossed over the other.

“Get your ass off my car, Jethro.”

That grin widened a hair. “Well, shucks, Miz Akane. Is this one of those ek
-
spen-sive cars?”

She rolled her eyes and took the hand he offered her. She found herself standing way too close for comfort. “It’s worth more than your hospital stay will be if you don’t move.”

He chuckled, the big bastard, and rolled easily up and off the car, his arms wrapping around her. She reared back as much as she could as his big head lowered, but despite her dragon heritage she couldn’t quite bend back far enough. Shane took her mouth in a careful, questing kiss, as if he understood she could and would bite him if he pushed too far.

Part of her hoped he would do just that. Shane tasted incredible, with just an undertone of something rich and metallic. Her inner dragon purred, but Akane held the sound back. No way could she let him know how much she enjoyed the intimate touch.

He released her and took a step back, staring at her with wistful greed. The wistfulness was gone almost as quickly as it appeared, but the fact it had been there, that he wanted her that badly, sent her heart racing. “Welcome home, Akane.”

She hid her shiver as best she could, but damn it. His voice did things to her, especially when he used that deep, warm tone he only directed at her. “This isn’t home.” She sniffed and almost stomped past him, remembering at the last minute the dirt driveway beneath her three inch heels.

“More home than you’ve ever had before.”

She paused; something about his tone set her back up. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

His rich laugh followed her into the brightly lit house. The cream-colored walls and dark, sturdy wooden furniture wasn’t her taste, but Aileen and Sean Dunne fit right in here. They’d blended early American with a number of pieces they’d moved from Ireland for a look uniquely their own. Framed prints of Ireland mingled with family portraits. The dark green fabrics of the furniture grounded the softer, cheerful yellows Aileen had strewn about the room in the form of pillows and flowers. The only odd note was an amethyst vase Leo Dunne had given his mother, sitting in pride of place on the mantelpiece. Akane took a deep breath and felt something tight within her ease at the now familiar scents of raw earth, polished wood and family.

She blinked.

Family? Since fucking when?

She growled low in her throat and headed for the kitchen, knowing Aileen Joloun Dunne wouldn’t be happy if Akane didn’t stop in to say hello before heading to her room. She shrugged off the thought of
her room
, plastering a smile on her face for Aileen’s sake.

“Gods, child, you look exhausted. Here, have a seat and I’ll make you a nice cup of tea.” Aileen’s soft Irish accent had a bit of Brit in it, marking her as from one of Ireland’s conquering families. The fact that Aileen Dunne considered herself Irish through and through would have had no effect on those intent on destroying anything British back when the IRA flourished. It was probably why Sean Dunne had moved his family to America in the first place.

“You’re a saint, Aileen.” She glared as Shane made his way into the room, gifting his mother with a kiss on the cheek. “Unlike some people I know.”

Aileen’s tinkling laugh filled the room. “Ah, now. Have you two been fighting again?” Her hair fell to her waist, a straight, shining curtain of glowing red-gold just a touch darker than her son’s. Slightly tilted green eyes the color of emeralds peeked out from under the longest, most lush lashes Akane had ever seen. Her chin was delicately pointed, her nose fine and aristocratic, her lips full and pink. She could see the resemblance between Moira, Aileen’s daughter and Jaden’s female bondmate, and her mother, but she could find little of the woman in either of Aileen’s tall sons.

“A wonderful sound to come home to.” Sean Dunne stepped in from the cold, his wool-lined jacket a shade of green exactly matching his wife’s eyes. He stepped in for his own kiss from Aileen, but where Shane’s had been filial Sean’s was that of a man marking his territory.

Now here was where she saw Shane. Oh, Shane mostly had his mother’s coloring, but when it came to size and shape, he was his father’s son. Tall and strong, Sean Dunne was head and shoulders above his dainty wife, with gleaming dark hair and eyes the color of a summer sky. Shane had his father’s eyes, but deeper, more intense, as if something in Sean had been refined within his oldest son.

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