Part 15 (1/2)

Damian awoke with a soft weight pressed against him. Jamie curled against him, lying peacefully in his arms. Awed, he blinked.

Tonight, she dream-walked with him. Entering his darkest nightmare to soothe him with her presence.

Careful not to awaken her, he stroked her gray hair. What caused her to come to him? Was the bond between them pulling her?

How much power did she have yet to reveal?

Chapter 10.

M usic mingling with loud male voices dragged her out of a sluggish sleep. Jamie threw an arm across her face, struggled to awaken. Glancing at the ornamental clock on the nightstand, she pushed down a groan. Eleven. She'd crashed the whole night. Had terrible dreams, about Damian, lost, alone, the haunting sadness on his face making her reach out to him, offering what little comfort she could.

And the other. Wasps, hundreds of them, stinging him. The memory slammed into her. Jamie skimmed a hand over her face. She wasn't hurt. Damian had taken the hit, covering her with his body.

She used the bathroom, then picked up the brush to untangle her hair. The mirror reflected her pale face and her hair....

Oh, dear G.o.d.

Gray. All of it. As if she'd aged forty years in eight hours. The brush fell from her opened fingers, clattering on the counter. Jamie glanced down at her hands.

Her nails were gray, as well.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried quelling rising panic. Nothing, just nothing. She'd exercised newfound powers and this was the result. Damian could give her more of his magick to slow the spell. h.e.l.l, she'd even drink bat's blood.

And what if she didn't have Damian? Who could she rely upon to help her? The mirror reflected her large eyes, gray as her hair. She couldn't go it alone any longer. She needed him. The thought disquieted her. How could she rely on someone else, especially a killer wolf?

Selecting the thickest robe she could find, Jamie belted it on. Terry-cloth armor. At the head of the stairs, she paused to listen. The voices were coming from the living room. Hard rock punched the air. Nickelback.

Someone had good taste.

She crept downstairs, crossed the hallway and hovered outside the room. Jamie stole a peek.

Tucked away in a polished walnut armoire, a wickedly hi-tech stereo blasted the deep ba.s.s of Nickelback's ”Fight for All the Wrong Reasons.” Lounging about in the fussy chairs and couch were five very big, very bada.s.s Draicon. She immediately recognized Damian and Raphael, but the three others were strangers. Yet not. Something familiar about them nagged at her.

Damian sat on the sofa. His socked feet dangled over the armrest. Jamie's heart gave a little jump. Dark shadows lined his eyes. Day beard scuffed his jaw. In a black T-s.h.i.+rt and black jeans, he looked s.e.xy as ever.

Raphael was parked on a chair, scuffed boots propped up on the antique coffee table. The furniture might be expensive, but she liked how they treated it as if it were her flea market stuff. He looked pretty p.i.s.sed off.

”You, t'frere, are in deep. What the h.e.l.l is going on?”

A hint of menace flashed in Raphael's obsidian eyes. ”My guys gave me the full report. Do you know in the bar last night, some humans were talking about how they saw that little stunt Jamie pulled with hurling you and the other Draicon in the air? Gabe had to give them a little mind work-over. Convince them a magic show was in town.”

A tall male, his muscled body stuffed into a black Harley Davidson T-s.h.i.+rt, black leather jacket and tight jeans, flicked a finger at Raphael. His square jaw and full mouth bore a slight resemblance to Raphael, but a black cowboy hat dipped over his brow, hiding his eyes. ”Rafe, easy. It's no problem, man.”

”Damian, what is she? She's not human. So what gives?” Raphael asked.

”I don't know. She's telekinetic and G.o.d knows what else. She turned twenty-one yesterday, so your info is wrong. She's coming into her power. We need to know more about her parents.”

”We know enough about her brother. Took care of that problem,” said a deep voice filled with menace.

Jamie's heart went still. She craned her neck, staring fully. Oh G.o.d. Now she knew what they were....

These were all the Draicon who were with Damian the night he killed Mark. They'd helped murder her brother.

Her hands shook wildly. Jamie took a step backward.

Damian's head whipped around, nostrils flaring as if scenting something. Jamie shrank back.

”Come out. I know you're listening, Jamie.”

Come inside to the wolves' den. Every bone in her body cried out against it.

Summoning all her strength, she stepped inside. In addition to Cowboy Hat and Raphael, two other males lounged in chairs. One was dressed in jeans and a polo s.h.i.+rt. He had well-trimmed brown hair and kind blue eyes. The other was leaner, his salt-and-pepper hair shoulder length, a whipcord toughness lurking beneath the olive-green denim jacket and camouflage pants. A closely trimmed goatee framed the thin slash of a mouth. The bladelike nose and the pale blue eyes showed someone not to tangle with, unless you enjoyed having your limbs removed and handed back to you on a china platter.

The wolves who killed Mark. Capable of ripping apart a fully muscled, tall man into bits of flesh and bone. She shrank back into her skin.

”Jamie, it's okay.”

The quiet, soothing voice shattered her fear. Damian came forward. Hands on lean hips, shoulders wide in the tight black T-s.h.i.+rt, his body was taut with muscle. A dangerous Draicon who killed.

Then she remembered. The wasps. He'd covered her body, protecting her. Jamie reached out and ran her index finger over the smooth skin of his biceps.

”The wasps, did I dream them? They attacked you. You were hurt, badly.”

His expression softened further. ”I'm fine, Jamie. And it was no dream.”

”You threw yourself on top of me, kept me from being stung.”

For so long she'd been forced to handle everything herself. The thought of this big male sheltering her with his body, taking blows for her, melted her with tenderness. Jamie glanced at the other Draicon, watching her every move.

Fear still inched along her spine, but Damian wouldn't let anything happen to her. She should just say thanks. Instead, she kept stroking his arm, testing the taut flesh beneath her fingers.

Jamie picked up his hand, brought it to her cheek. She kissed the knuckles, the callused palm. Damian cupped her chin, lifting it to meet his gaze.

”I will always protect you, chere. To my last dying breath.”

Intensity radiated in his darkening gaze. Her body flared to life. A gush of moisture seeped between her legs, dampening the pink PJ bottoms. Her nipples punched the thin cotton sleep s.h.i.+rt. She ran a wet tongue around her mouth, the wanting suddenly very bad.

Damian's expression s.h.i.+fted. His powerful body trembled, as if he could barely hold himself back. She read the need in his tense muscles, the flaring nostrils and the sudden erection tenting his jeans. He was ready to mate.

So was she. Another wave of heat slammed into her, arousal flooding between her legs.

Expressions on the other males s.h.i.+fted. Their nostrils flared, as if scenting something very appealing. Damian's hands fisted. The hungry look in his eyes turned darker as he glared at them.

”Whoa,” said the one wearing the cowboy hat. ”d.a.m.n.”

”Control yourself, Gabe. I'm warning you.” Damian growled deep.