Master of Dragons (9 page)

Assuming they all survived that long.

Nineva threw her
head back, gasping as she rode Kel's narrow hips. His cock felt a yard long in this position, and each thrust rammed shock waves of pleasure through her body. It was damn near too much, yet she loved every minute of it.

Close. She was so close…

Suddenly he arched under her, lifting her off the bed with his effortless brawny strength. Shouting in pleasure, he clamped his big hands over her hips, holding her still…

Kel's climax triggered her own. She came, screaming, throwing her head back so hard her hair whipped his thighs.

And on the edge of her mind, she sensed the goddess's presence, glowing like a distant star. “Semira!” Nineva gasped out loud.

But the star faded away again.

Nineva collapsed across Kel's muscled chest with a groan of frustration. “Dammit to hell, we've made love three times tonight. What more does she want?” Her entire nervous system was lit up like the Statue of Liberty on the Fourth of July.

“I do think she seemed a little stronger that time, though.” Kel wrapped his brawny, sweat-damp arms around her waist.

“Not strong enough,” she grumbled into his chest. “We're never going to find her at this rate.”

“The poor woman has been slowly starving for centuries. We'll just have to keep trying.” His tone was more anticipatory than anything else.

“Here's an idea—we could get the entire Sidhe kingdom together for one big orgy…” Whimpering a little, she lifted off him and collapsed over onto her back.

“Not until I get something to eat.” Kel arched his back and stretched. “Semira's not the only one who's starving.”

Nineva's stomach rumbled loudly. They traded a look and laughed. She was surprised by how good it felt.

 

Downstairs in the
kitchen again, Kel served up plates of magically reheated lasagna and poured two more glasses of wine. They sat down at his dining table to eat.

Nineva forked up a bite and moaned in delight at the blend of cheese, noodles, and spicy sauce. “Oh, God, this is good! Where did you learn to cook?”

“Centuries of hanging around with Gawain. He views cooking as an essential seduction technique.” He gave her a devilish little smile. “Though he's always too heavy-handed with the garlic.”

She eyed him over the rim of her wine. “A vampire who loves garlic?”

“Well, he doesn't actually eat it—just gives it a taste or two. Besides, the garlic thing is a myth.”

Nineva snorted. “What isn't?”

Kel gave her a slow smile. “Not much.” Taking a sip of his wine, he studied her. “Speaking of myths, legends, and prophecies—just how did Semira end up in that sword, anyway?”

She tore off a hunk of crusty French bread and bit into it. Like the lasagna, it was delicious—fresh, hot, and crunchy. Chewing in narrow-eyed pleasure, she contemplated the best way to tell the story. “According to my father, Semira first appeared to my people fifteen thousand years ago. The Morven Sidhe were mortal nomads then, struggling to survive. The goddess took Sidhe form to lead us, served by a series of priest kings.”

“Interesting,” Kel mused. “So she was always a goddess? Cachamwri started out as a dragon. It was only after he killed all those Dark Ones that he became an elemental—a god. Where did Semira come from?”

Nineva shrugged. “No one knows, though my father thought she was an alien. Not a Dark One, obviously, but also not of Sidhe Earth.”

He took a bite of lasagna, contemplating the point. “Makes sense.”

“Semira lived among the Morven tribes for five thousand years, guiding them to becoming the most advanced Sidhe race on the planet.” She took a sip of her wine and shrugged. “Then the Dark Ones invaded.”

“And everything went to hell.”

The Dark Ones had enslaved and murdered everyone they encountered, even Dragonkind. The demonic creatures fed on the life force of their victims to power their magic. Torture and sacrifice were essential to their spells.

“When the invasion began, Semira led the Morven Sidhe against the Dark Ones with the help of her latest priest king, Idris. But the attack went badly. The Dark Ones were more powerful than she expected, and they killed most of Semira's forces.”

Kel grimaced. “I can understand that. We went against a single Dark One last year, and he damned near killed us all.”

Nineva jolted in alarm. “One of the Dark Ones was here? Already?”

“He'd always been here—Merlin had imprisoned him on Mageverse Earth. He got loose. We managed to kill him, though.” Kel made a dismissing gesture. “Which is yet another long story. Go on.”

“Anyway, Semira drained herself badly trying to defeat the aliens, who had them surrounded. Their general attacked her, and she went down…”

“His name wasn't Geirolf, was it?”

Nineva frowned. “Actually, I think it was.”

“Figures. That's the one I was talking about. He was a powerful bastard.”

“Yeah, that sounds like him.” She stirred her lasagna with her fork. “Realizing Geirolf was closing in and desperate to save her, Idris transferred her essence into her sword. He was badly wounded at the time, though, and he had to use his own life force to power the spell.”

Kel's brows lifted. “Loyal of him.”

“More than that, he loved her. They'd even had children together.” She sighed and put her fork aside. “The spell worked. Geirolf thought she'd been destroyed with her lover. The victorious Dark Ones quit the field, leaving the flower of the Morven Sidhe to rot in the sun.”

“So who retrieved the sword?”

“Semira's youngest daughter—she was only about ten or so—came out onto the battlefield and found it. Young as she was, the child had sensed what had happened. She was the first of the Avatars, and the one who relayed Semira's prophecy.”

“So you're a descendent of Semira?”

She shrugged. “Well, yes.”

“Damn. No wonder everybody is after you.”

“Exactly. A lot of people would be a lot more comfortable if I were dead.”

Kel bared his teeth. “Too fuckin' bad.”

 

Pleasantly stuffed, Nineva
watched in astonishment as her lover polished off the rest of the lasagna with cheerful greed.

“Where the hell did you put it all?” she demanded, as he gestured, making their dinner dishes vanish, presumably clean, back to their cupboards. “Have you got a hollow leg?”

Kel patted his flat belly with a satisfied grin. “My other car is a dragon. Besides, I have to keep my strength up if I'm going to service your insatiable lusts.”

“
My
insatiable lusts?”

“Okay, your goddess's. Six of one, half a dozen of…” He broke off to cover a huge yawn with his hand. “…the other.” Glancing toward the windows, which were going blue with approaching dawn, he added, “Looks like it's time for bed.”

“The sun's just coming up!”

“Yeah.” Kel caught her elbow and gently tugged her toward the stairs. “One myth that is true is that vampires sleep during the day, so everybody else in Avalon does, too. You'll get used to it.”

Actually, she wouldn't mind a little sleep herself. Between battling Arralt and staying up all night talking and making love, she could use the zees. “Umm…do you have a guest room?”

One foot on the bottom stair, Kel lifted a cobalt brow. “We just had jungle sex—repeatedly—and you want to sleep in separate beds? No, I
don't
have a guest room, as a matter of fact.”

Nineva fought the urge to squirm. “I've never slept with anybody.”

“What, you slink out after you're done with them?”

“If you were afraid of assassination attempts, would you want your lover in the cross fire?”

That stopped him. “Good point.” Kel studied her, his expression sympathetic. When he finally spoke again, his voice was very quiet. “How do you sleep at night?”

She shrugged, uncomfortable. “I ward my apartment. I figure the spell will wake me up in time to fight if anybody hostile shows up.”

“Well, you don't have to worry about that tonight. This entire city is warded. I doubt a Dark One could get through those shields.” The hand on her elbow was very gentle as he urged her up the stairs. “But I'll tell you what—if any killer Sidhe do attack, I'll eat them. How's that?”

Nineva found herself grinning at his cheerfully bared teeth. “You're a true gentleman.”

“Hey, I'm a Knight of the Round Table. Comes with the job.”

 

Arms folded on
the pillow under his head, Kel lay staring at the darkened ceiling overhead. He was acutely conscious of Nineva's slim, graceful back as she lay on her side as far away from him as the bed would allow.

The sting of that was surprisingly sharp.

Knowing Nineva, there was probably a great deal of truth in her excuse of not wanting to endanger her lovers by sleeping with them. But he suspected a larger factor was that she simply didn't trust anybody. Not even him.

Maybe especially him.

Even when they'd made love, even when he'd driven her body to climax, he'd sensed that part of her was holding back, fighting to remain behind that armored shell she maintained against the world.

It irked him. It wasn't that he didn't understand the fear of betrayal—his own uncle had imprisoned him in three feet of steel for fifteen hundred years. When his mother had tried to discover who'd trapped him, the bastard had manipulated her into challenging another dragon, who'd then killed her.

So yeah, Kel knew about betrayal.

But he'd never been treated as a possible source of it. For centuries, he'd fought alongside Gawain with his magic, embracing imprisonment to keep his friend safe. They'd both known perfectly well that the spell would have freed him instantly if he'd killed Gawain. That was, after all, what his uncle wanted. Yet the thought that Kel might actually do it had never even crossed his friend's mind.

Kel should know. He'd shared the knight's thoughts, just as Gawain had shared his. Each knew the other could be trusted.

When they'd finally found a way to free him by tricking the spell, Arthur had promptly named Kel the first new Knight of the Round Table in four hundred years. The fact that he was actually a dragon hadn't even entered into the equation. Like Gawain, Arthur trusted him without question. So did everyone else in Avalon, including the women he bedded.

Until Nineva, who apparently trusted no one at all.

Hell of a way to live, when he thought about it. He didn't think he'd ever met anyone so utterly alone.

Thing was, he liked the little paranoid. She was sensual and funny and oddly brave for someone who apparently lived in constant fear. She hadn't even hesitated to attack Arralt, who had a good eight inches and a hundred pounds on her. What's more, she'd known how to fight. Evidently, Daddy Dearest had raised her to be quite the little swordswoman—among other things.

It was just as well Eirnin was dead. Kel didn't think he would have liked the bastard much. It took one cold-blooded son of a bitch to brainwash his own daughter into sacrificing herself for a goddess.

It was no wonder the kid's head was a snake pit…

A moan. Not a sound of pleasure, either. Kel lifted his head off the pillow and turned to look at Nineva.

She flopped over onto her back, throwing the covers off. Normally, he would have appreciated the view—she really did have gorgeous breasts—but the fear on her pretty face killed any budding arousal. “No. Please, don't!”

“Nineva…”

“NO!” She bolted from the bed as if shot from a cannon, backing away, one hand held up as if to ward off an attacker. Her voice lifted into a heartbreaking wail of pain and terror.
“Kel!”

He rolled off the bed and caught her by those slender shoulders. “Nineva, it's all right! You're just having a bad dream!”

“Don't!”
Her hands began to glow.

“Whoa!” He grabbed her wrists and lifted them upward before she could blast him. “Nineva, wake up! It's okay, you're safe!”

Her mouth rounded in another pitiful cry of terror as he pulled her against him. Then consciousness flooded her blank, panicked gaze, and she stiffened, examining his face anxiously. “Kel?”

“Yeah, it's me. You were having a nightmare. You're okay. I won't let anyone hurt you.”

She sagged in his arms. The blue fireballs burning around her hands winked out. “It was you.” Her voice sounded far too high, almost childlike.

“What was me?” Carefully, he drew her close and wrapped his arms around her. She quivered against him in wracking shivers.

“You burned me. My skin flaked off in ashes. Goddess, it hurt!” She burrowed against him.

“Me?” He cursed softly and raked his hair out of his face. “Between Grim and your goddess, I guess it's not surprising you had a nightmare—but it was only a dream.”

“I know.” Nineva pulled away from him and knuckled the tears off her cheeks. She was still shaking. “It's just…” She broke off and moved to sit down on the bed, her slim shoulders hunched. She looked so small and vulnerable, he felt his heart turn over in his chest.

“Just what?” Kel dropped to his knees in front of her so he could see her face.

“It's so vivid!” Almost angrily, she swiped the tears away again. “I can feel it. Smell my skin burning. Taste the smoke. I've been dreaming about it for years now, and every time it gets worse and worse.”

He covered one small, clenched fist with his palm. “Look, like I told you before,
it's not going to happen
.”

Her tear-swollen eyes met his. “What if you have to? What if it's what we have to do to stop the Dark Ones? We can't let them invade, Kel. They'd destroy both our Earths and everyone on them.”