Immortal Coil (31 page)

Humans expressed this with touches and kisses. Like when she’d touched his jaw.

He drew a gentle line along her chin. Her wide eyes stared into his. The promise of their dream quivered in the breath between their lips.

Mother of All, he needed to show her how he felt, needed her to know she was more than worthy. He brushed his lips against hers. Heat zinged through him.

She froze. Her eyes widened further.

It hadn’t been enough. That tentative contact hadn’t shown her anything. He dipped close again, but she jerked back, pulling the blanket up until all he could see of her were her pale eyes.

His gut churned and all warmth seeped from him. Now he had even fewer words.

* * *

Anaea
couldn’t stop trembling. Hunter had kissed her, tentatively, and all she could think of was him in Mark’s body. She shouldn’t have pulled away. The pain in his eyes made her heart break. Then he’d rushed from the room without a word. She should call him back and tell him—

Tell him what? That she wanted what she’d fantasized? Boy, did she ever want what they’d had in her dream, and more. But he didn’t know about that. And there was Mark. Or rather, there wasn’t Mark but his body. She wanted Hunter. Not Mark. The two weren’t one and the same and yet...

She squeezed her eyes shut.

This was complicated.
So very, very complicated.
Too much had happened, too soon. She needed time to think and adjust. She could deal with this. Honestly.

If she were in her right mind she’d get up and run as far away from the mess as possible. But she couldn’t abandon Hunter.

She snorted at that thought. Hunter was more than capable of taking care of himself, particularly in this situation.

Fine.
She’d admit it. She liked Hunter and missed having him in her head. Yeah, she’d wanted him out, but now that he was gone she felt empty and abandoned again.

Which was completely ridiculous.
He was still with her. He’d even tried to kiss her. Of course, all she’d seen was Mark and she’d pushed him away.

And she was back again to everything being complicated.

Swell.

Hunter splashed water on his face but it did little to ease the confusion of emotions within him. And they all had to do with
Anaea
. Every fiber of his being now knew she was his inamorata and he had no idea how she felt about him. Which still didn’t mean anything if they were dead.

He stared at his new face in the mirror, the glaring light from the hotel bathroom accentuating the sharp features. A stranger stared back at him. Dark hair, tousled from sleep, curled around his ears and the nape of his neck, too long for his liking. His dark eyes stood out against slightly tanned skin. If he squinted he could imagine they were still the eyes of his previous body. At least he was back to being tall.

He dragged his T-shirt off.

And strong again.
He was lean-muscled, reminding him of the wiry black belts in
Japan
who’d kicked his Crusader’s ass centuries ago. He could work with this. Attack and bash was no longer his best style. But he had others and suspected this body was faster on its feet than his last one.

Did
Anaea
like it or was that why she’d refused to kiss him? From their shared dreams, she’d appreciated the Crusader. But there had been something between her and this man. He wasn’t sure what and didn’t know if he wanted to ask. Sometimes the hope, before receiving the answer, was better than the knowing.

Which was ridiculous.
He’d always wanted to know, always wanted to plan with all information available.
Anaea
was something different.

She was confusing, that’s what she was. She was human and, because of him, a mage. But she was so much more than that.
A warrior, a linguist, a woman.

His inamorata.

Mother of All, he was losing his mind. The instinctual need to prove
himself
worthy of her was overwhelming, but he wouldn’t be able to do that until the attacks on his life had been stopped—he’d worry about Regis demanding her life when the immediate threat was over.

Which meant he had to get off the defensive even if his body hadn’t connected to the earth’s magic yet.
Every time he turned around another drake was after him, and as a result,
Anaea
as well. He couldn’t let anything happen to her. Whether he liked it or not, it was his turn to do some hunting.

He had no proof
Zenobia
was responsible and in this case, his gut didn’t count since the challenger from dinner last night had looked to Nero for help. What he did know was that everyone who had attacked him, who hadn’t been a human mage, had been young. So he’d start by talking to the younglings. He’d have to change his appearance a little, so he wasn’t recognizable as the human they’d just tortured and killed, but there weren’t many young drakes
who’d
recognize his aura. They’d only know he was a dragon. With luck, he’d confirm
Zenobia’s
involvement, make short work of her flunkies, and collect her soul.

He snorted at the thought. Not likely. Not with the way things had been going lately. He’d probably have to call in a little help. Grey was always up for knocking a few heads together, even if the drake didn’t want to go into the human realm any more. But Hunter needed to expose the root of the problem so he could defend his actions when Regis and the other doyens of the Counseling Coteries found out. Taking
Zenobia’s
soul without a writ would be too much like proclaiming himself independent. The doyens would demand Hunter’s rebirth for killing one of their own, even if they didn’t like her, and Regis would have a fit at losing his assassin. Taking her soul with proof would still end in a fight, but it was the best he could come up with.

He really wished he had the time to wait for this body to connect to the earth’s magic. But that would cool any possible leads and continue to endanger
Anaea
. He wondered what magic he’d develop this time. More fire would be nice. He could practically feel it rolling over his tongue like it had in the old days.

Which was neither here nor there.
The odds of him getting fire were slim. The odds of finding two bodies in a row that could were practically impossible. There was no guarantee this form could even connect to the earth’s magic. Many dragons couldn’t.

There was nothing he could do about that. All he could do was focus on making
Anaea
safe.
First thing first.
A change of appearance.
There wasn’t a whole lot he could do in a short time save shave his head. He’d prefer a buzz cut, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. And hopefully a haircut would make him feel more like himself.

After shaving his head, he dragged on a clean T-shirt and strode through the bedroom into the sitting room.
Anaea
sat on the couch watching the local news. She stared at him, her mouth drawn into a tight line, her disapproval palpable even from across the room.

His heart flip-flopped. Damn it. It was his body now. He could cut his hair any way he liked.

“I’m not into the solidarity thing. Now we won’t be able to stand beside each other in public for a good couple of weeks,” she said.

“What?” Not the response he’d expected.

“We’ll look like the
Bobbsey
Twins.” She ran a hand over her stubble. It seemed longer than before.

Nah, he was imagining things. He was seeing her as he’d envisioned in her dream because that was what she wanted him to see.

“
Yours’ll
grow back in no time.”

She opened her mouth but closed it without speaking and turned back to the television. “There’s nothing in the news about...” She glanced back at him, her gaze sweeping over his body, sending heat washing through him. “Mark.”

“There was a lot of blood. The police might be holding details from the press.”

She swallowed. “He has—had a family.”

“Everyone does.” This wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have. He didn’t know what to say and couldn’t begin to imagine how she felt to look at her friend and know he was dead. Hunter had never regretted taking a deceased human’s body before. But then, the last time he had, he’d known nothing about the man. “I need to go out for a bit.”

She jerked up.
“What for?”

“To find out what’s going on. I’m tired of running.”

“Well, so am I.”

So brave, he could hug her. But dragons were dangerous and he didn’t know what he’d do if anything happened to her. Man, he really was in trouble. He’d fallen down the rabbit hole of inamoratas and didn’t want out. “This isn’t your fight.”

“I beg to differ.”

Okay.
Fine.
She had him there. If no one realized he’d switched bodies then they were still looking for her. And now she didn’t have rapid healing.

“I’m just going to talk to a few drakes. Find out some information. That’s all.” But from her pursed lips he could tell she saw right through the lie.

“I’m not going to sit here while you go out and fix everything.”

“Of course you are.” Every cell in his stolen body screamed for him to do this for her, get his hands bloody so she wouldn’t have to. He wanted to give her everything, including every piece of sky he cherished.

“No. I’m not.” She stood and strode to the door.

“They’ll know you’re human.” He seized her arm and jerked her close. Her hands pressed against his chest, drawing an inferno within him. The odds were slim that any drakes would be able to tell the difference between a dragon and a mage. Only a lucky few could see the difference in their auras. But Hunter wasn’t going to tell
Anaea
that and wasn’t willing to take that risk. “I’ll not permit you to go.”

Damn, he shouldn’t have said that, but now that he had, he didn’t want to take it back.

“You’ll not permit?” She shoved him back. “Not permit? Been there, done that. No man tells me what to do any more.”

“I’m not just any man.” A growl rumbled with him.

“You’re acting like one.”

The rumble grew and the room was washed in red.
Mother of All.
She really was a drake in spirit. “We can argue about this later. Besides, I’m not going to fix anything right now, just speak with a few younger drakes at
Baltu
. I want—” He sucked in a ragged breath. “I need you to stay here, safe, so I can focus on the hunt.”

He grabbed his coat and stormed out the door. It was either that or
take
her there on the floor. When this was done he’d court her properly with
shinies
and meat and—

Shit. Human women might like shiny things, but did they appreciate whole cows? He couldn’t just kill something, present it to her, and expect her to fall in love.

He ground his teeth. He hadn’t integrated well into the human realm at all.

* * *

Anaea
hugged herself, unable to tear her gaze from the door. It was her life, too. How dare he proclaim he would fix everything and she should just sit around and
wait.
She’d never sat around and waited for anyone. The fact that her life had somehow spiraled out of her control just made her want to do something even more.

And now every time she looked at him she saw Mark. She supposed she saw more of Hunter now that he’d shaved his head.
Mark’s head.
She’d loved those curls. Every woman she knew was jealous of them. Now they were gone.
Probably a mess on the floor for housekeeping to sweep up.

Her eyes burned. That wasn’t fair. She knew Hunter better than that. He wouldn’t purposefully leave a mess for someone else to clean up. Their whole fight had been about that. The mess was his and he had to deal with it alone. The problem was that she knew everyone after him was also after her, since they’d have no way of knowing Hunter had changed bodies. Which meant, damn it, it was her problem, too, and she was going to do something about it. She could gather information just as well as Hunter could.

Besides, she felt better, felt alive. It was a misconception, she knew that. Nothing could heal cancer. But she’d spent so long being weak and insignificant in her own life. She had to do something now. If Hunter had shown her anything in the last couple of days, it was that she, too, could face her death fighting.

And damn it, bad idea or not—and she was sure going after Hunter to get information from other dragons was a bad idea—she wanted... no, needed to do this.

Hunter had said he was going to talk to the younger drakes at
Baltu
. She had no idea what that meant, but Hunter did, and she could still feel the memories he’d infused into her brain hiding at the back of her consciousness.

She concentrated on those memories. Images of a medieval battlefield filled her mind.

Not what she wanted.