Destiny Kills (Myth and Magic 1) - Page 22

“Why?”

He hesitated. “I made a deal with my father. If I give him the ring, he gives me some information I need.”

“It must be some pretty heavy information if you’re exchanging a ring your brother valued for it.”

“Egan didn’t value the ring,” he said, voice edged with annoyance. “He valued what taking it meant.”

“And that makes total sense.” Not.

He waved a hand dismissively. “It involves clique politics and history, and I’m not about to go into that here. Give me the ring, Destiny.”

“Sorry. No can do.”

He uncrossed his arms and took a step toward me. In that instant, the little warmth that had been evident in his eyes fled completely, and the dragon came to the fore. It was like facing a stranger—a complete and utterly dangerous stranger.

This was not just a dangerous thief, nor even the man who’d held the gun at me. This was someone totally new. Someone who didn’t care who or what he hurt as long as he got what he wanted.

And I could see why Egan might have called him in for protection.

“Give me the ring, Destiny,” he repeated.

I lifted my chin, a small defiance that made me feel better even if it had no perceivable effect on the man standing opposite me. “I can’t.”

“Why can’t you? What have you done to it?”

“I sent it somewhere safe. Somewhere where no one can get to it.”

“You gave it to one of your people in the sea?”

I had no people in the sea. Mom’s relatives had become virtual strangers the day we’d left Scotland. But I wasn’t about to disabuse him of the notion that I’d given the ring to someone else. The control we sea dragons had over the sea—indeed, any sort of water—was something of a well-kept secret. Well, until Costa Brava, anyway.

Hell, legends had us physically attacking boats of old, and while I’m sure there were some old sea dragons who loved to smash and crash before they looted, most had no need to take it that far. Not when the sea could smash and crash for us.

Trae took another step forward. The ice in his eyes, the tension knotting his limbs spoke of anger and violence bubbling under the surface. I should have been afraid. Very afraid.

Part of me—most of me—definitely was. Yet that last step brought him within a couple of arm lengths, and the raw, spicy aroma of his masculinity washed over me, heating my senses and making my body burn.

I crossed my arms and fought the desire to traverse the distance between us, to fling myself into his arms and taste those uncompromising, yet undoubtedly lush, lips. Think of Egan, I told myself sternly. He deserves the respect of a decent mourning period, at the very least.

Trouble was, the part of me that hungered just wasn’t listening.

I wished I knew whether it was simply lust or something more. I’d never really had a chance to talk to my mom about life and love, and I had no idea what it actually felt like when you finally met the one man destined to be your mate. I had talked to my dad, of course, but he could only bring his experiences and his knowledge as a man and an air dragon to the table.

And there were greater differences between sea dragons and our air cousins than just the elements we dominated. Our society was more matriarchal than patriarchal, and it was the women who decided when and if the men could impregnate them. I had no idea, however, if females generally remained virginal before they met their mate, or whether they were able to enjoy the company of others. No idea if me being a half breed had any effect on my sexuality and the restrictions that might have been patterned into my DNA. Certainly I hadn’t fallen pregnant in the ten years I was with Egan, so that again suggested I was more my mom’s daughter than my dad’s, but did the mere fact that I hadn’t remained a virgin mean that the restrictions were muted in me?

Was I even capable of breeding? Of having that one true mate?

I di

dn’t know.

And if I didn’t get my mother out of that place, I might never know.

“Destiny, did you give the ring to someone else?”

I stared at him for a moment longer, then nodded. It was close enough to the truth, and he couldn’t do anything about it anyway. The dawn had gone, and my ability to recall the ring had fled with it. There was always another dawn, of course, but if he didn’t know the truth of the ring’s disappearance, then he couldn’t force the issue.

“It’s out of my reach—and out of my control—for at least a couple of days.”

Tags: Keri Arthur Myth and Magic Paranormal
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