Darkness Rising Page 9

  Almost immediately upon returning from the bayou that morning, the two ancients had disappeared from the house to meet up with “someone” and hadn’t offered her any more info than that. She wanted to be annoyed—and she kind of was since Prima had been the one to deliver the news. Reaper had been conspicuously absent.

  “Where are you going looking so sexy?” Prima asked, hanging her coat on the hook by the door.

  Reaper simply growled at Greer as he drank her in with his eyes.

  Greer blinked, wondering at his reaction. Since she liked the sound of that growl way too much, she ignored him. “I’m meeting up with an old friend for dinner.” She’d had to wait until after sunset since her particular friend was a vampire.

  Prima’s smile turned pure wicked. “Is this friend of the male variety?” She flicked a quick glance at Reaper, clearly watching for his reaction with glee.

  What the heck was wrong with Prima? Was she trying to bait Reaper? Yes, maybe her outfit was sexy, but it wasn’t obscene. She wore tight black pants, knee-high, heeled boots that gave her another couple inches, and her silky green top with flutter sleeves did have a deep vee. And she wasn’t ashamed of it. “Not that it matters, but yes.” She glanced down at her phone and saw that her Uber had arrived. “How did your meeting go?”

  “Fine. I’ll tell you about it when you return,” Prima said. “Go enjoy yourself.”

  Reaper stared at her as if he wanted to say something but didn’t.

  Greer figured that if it was urgent, Prima would have told her so she simply smiled. “Okay. I’ve got my phone if you need me.”

  When she got into the car, she found she could breathe again, not being so close to Reaper. That male. Maybe she should have stayed and pushed them more about their meeting, but since an old vampire friend had contacted her to get together, she didn’t want to ditch him now. Besides, he might be able to tell her more about what had happened to Reaper’s friend, Cynbel.

  Reaper.

  Even thinking his name got her worked up. Just being in his presence again for mere minutes had stirred things deep inside her she wasn’t ready to acknowledge. Maybe she would never be ready. He was simply not the type of male she’d ever envisioned being with. Her lovers had all been gentle and kind.

  And Reaper?

  The male was a fierce warrior who clearly gave orders and expected them to be followed. He would never join her clan. Never be part of a clan, period. That much was clear. And she needed her clan, her family. Healing and taking care of others was part of who she was at her core.

  Sighing, she tried to table thoughts of the ancient, sexy-as-sin male, but it was difficult. Especially when she kept remembering the way he’d strode across that ash in the bayou like a determined god, uncaring about any danger and secure in who he was. The confidence thing? Yeah, that was sexy. He was just so damn arrogant.

  Thankfully the drive didn’t take long, and soon her driver pulled right up to the curb of the little hole-in-the-wall restaurant surrounded by homes. She imagined it did well in the mostly residential area.

  She smiled as she approached her very old vampire friend, Christian, sitting at a little mosaic table outside. The cold wouldn’t bother him just as it didn’t bother her. Christian was one of her oldest friends and they’d kept in touch over the centuries—something that didn’t always happen with supernaturals. “I’m surprised these tables are even open,” she said, kissing him on both cheeks as he stood to greet her.

  “I used a little persuasion and they opened the patio for me. I wanted a little bit of privacy.” He’d grown his pale blond hair out to his shoulders since she’d last seen him and had pulled it back with a little tie at the nape of his neck.

  “Humans usually don’t listen to anything that doesn’t concern them anyway,” she murmured as she sat down, glad to see that he had already ordered a bottle of wine. “Will it bother you if I order food?”

  “Of course not, but thank you for asking.”

  Their server stepped outside before she could even look at the menu, but she’d been here before so she ordered two appetizers as her meal.

  “Pretty light on the food for a dragon,” Christian said once they were alone again.

  She lifted a shoulder, though it was true. Dragons tended to eat as much as wolf shifters, and that was saying something. “I have a lot on my mind.”

  One of his eyebrows lifted. “Is that right?”

  “Yes that is right. Don’t push.” She wasn’t in the mood to talk about Reaper.

  He laughed lightly. “What’s his name?”

  “I really don’t want to talk about it.”

  “It, or him?”

  She paused for a beat before grinning. “Him.”

  “Fine, be that way.” He gave a mock pout, making him look even more adorable than usual. He’d been turned in his early twenties many, many centuries ago and he still retained a sort of boyish charm. “So how long are you in town this time? And why did I have to hear through the supernatural grapevine that you were?” Now that boyish charm disappeared to be replaced by the faintest hint of hurt. Which was fair, since they were friends—who emailed, texted and even talked on the phone.

  “This trip happened so last minute even I was not prepared for it. I planned to contact you, I promise. I only just arrived. And how did you hear about me being here?”

  “I heard from a friend of a friend that you were at Cynara’s new club.”

  Ah, that made sense. Supernaturals were such gossips. “I promise to make it up to you for not calling the moment I arrived but I do have a question. Have you noticed or heard of any strange happenings around here lately?”

  “Honey, it’s New Orleans. Strange things happen every second of every day.”

  “Yeah, I know. I just meant in general, I guess.” She wasn’t certain how much she wanted to share with Christian. He was one of the few beings she’d been friends with when dragons hadn’t been out to other supernaturals—the majority of supernaturals had assumed that dragons were extinct until recently. But he came from a different time and had dealt with different prejudices before he’d been turned. She’d always felt safe with him knowing of her kind’s existence.

  “I have been hearing some interesting rumblings lately, since you ask. And one in particular is that King is going to make an official play for claiming New Orleans’s territory.”

  “That isn’t exactly surprising.” King was a wolf shifter, and though New Orleans was considered neutral territory, the shifters who made this city their home often looked to him for guidance. “How do vampires feel about this?”

  “If he takes a vampire mate, I think everything will be fine.”

  She nodded once. “Where is he, anyway? I asked around and he’s not in town. I couldn’t get a solid answer about where he’s gotten off to.” And as far as she knew, that wolf rarely left the city. This was his domain.

  “I think he might be hunting himself down a vampire mate.” Christian grinned now. “And in case you are not aware, we are not alone.”

  Frowning, she glanced around, subtly inhaling—and she scented him. She gritted her teeth.

  “Is this that male you didn’t want to talk about?” He reached across the table and took her hand in his.

  Oh no—she knew what he was doing, and this was a dangerous game. He brought her hand to his mouth and had begun to brush his lips over her knuckles when Reaper appeared out of nowhere, with supernatural speed, looking as if he was ready to take off Christian’s head.

  He looked like an avenging warrior, his green-amber eyes bright with a promise that blood was about to be shed. Holy. Shit. There was no civilization in his eyes right now.

  Greer stood abruptly, jerking her hand back. Moving between Christian and Reaper, she placed a hand in the middle of Reaper’s chest. “I’m not sure what you’re doing here, but you will sit down and remain civil. You will have a glass of wine with us and be nice to my friend.” She certainly wasn’t asking, but she was
surprised that he acquiesced so quickly and sank into the seat closest to hers.

  “Touch her again and I’ll take off your head.” Reaper’s tone was casual as he rudely plucked the wineglass from her friend.

  Of course, Christian threw his head back and laughed uproariously—that male had always loved living on the edge. It was how he’d been turned. He’d been an obnoxious little shit when human and had robbed the wrong human—and been killed for it. But a vampire had liked his arrogance and had changed him simply for that alone.

  Then he looked at Greer, amusement dancing in his baby blues. “Honey, I don’t blame you. This one is gorgeous.”

  Reaper looked confused for a moment, then seemed to completely relax, his shoulders settling as he realized that Christian was no threat to him. Not for her attentions anyway. And…probably not against him regardless. Power rolled off Reaper in waves. “Where I’m from, we don’t touch what is not ours,” he added, still watching Christian.

  Christian simply grinned wider as Greer shook her head. She was so not going to touch on what he’d just said. “Why did you follow me?”

  He gave her a look that said the answer should be obvious. And maybe it was, but she couldn’t believe he’d actually followed her here.

  “I take it you were eavesdropping?”

  He gave an unapologetic shrug. “Of course.”

  “Good, then. Why don’t you tell Christian what we discovered today? Maybe he can offer some insight.” Christian had lived in the city for centuries and knew everyone and everything. Unlike most vamps, he didn’t live in a coven, but stuck to himself mainly. His mate had died centuries ago and Christian had never gotten over the loss. Not truly.

  She always thought it was better for dragons that if their mate died, they perished with them. Because a dragon in mourning? No. They would go mad and burn the world.

  Reaper lifted a shoulder again and told the vampire about the dead ancient from the bayou. Then he asked, “Did you know him?”

  Greer noted that he specifically said Cynbel was dead, and this morning he hadn’t been certain. Something had happened at his meeting. Damn it, she should have pressed him and Prima for more information.

  Christian nodded once. “I’ve met Cynbel. He hasn’t been here long, maybe a year. I don’t care for him. I know who he hangs out with and the places he frequents, however. And I find it hard to believe he’s dead.”

  “So do I. But he must have been killed by one of my kind.” It was said with a sort of arrogance.

  “You’re very certain of that,” Christian murmured.

  “I scented another dragon there. More than one. But even if I hadn’t, it is very hard to kill my kind. Who does—or did—he associate with that you know of?”

  “You’re not even going to try to butter me up before asking all these questions?” Christian lifted an eyebrow.

  Reaper glanced at Greer, his expression horrified. “He wants me to put butter on him?”

  Greer couldn’t help herself as a giggle escaped. Reaching out, she squeezed his forearm. “No, he doesn’t. I promise. He just means that you’re not bothering with polite small talk before jumping straight into what you want.”

  “Oh.” His gaze flicked down to where her fingers were gently clasping his arm and he let out a low growl when he looked back up at her.

  She told herself to let go, but found her gaze hooked with his, unable to turn away from those sparking eyes.

  “Should I give y’all some privacy?” Christian murmured.

  “Yes,” Reaper said as Greer said, “No.”

  She dropped her hand and looked away, ignoring the amusement in Christian’s expression.

  “Cynbel associated with a male named Brennus. They frequented a club called Red Devils that is exclusive to supernaturals. Much like Cynara’s. Unlike Cynara’s, there don’t seem to be any rules there. No protection for the weaker.” There was disgust in his voice. “I don’t care for the owner either. But that’s not what you wanted to know. Brennus is—”

  “I know the male,” Reaper said.

  “Is he friend or foe?” Greer asked.

  He paused a moment before answering. “Neither. We fought with and against each other over a few centuries. He was a killer for hire, I believe would be the right phrase. His clan was large, spanning various continents. They were very…ah, they did not believe in interspecies matings. I don’t imagine they’ll have changed much.”

  “From what I know of Brennus, he doesn’t like anyone who isn’t a dragon. To him, humans are basically bugs. I don’t know anything about his family, however. They could be here, for all I know. I’ve avoided that male as well as Cynbel. They’ve got nasty streaks.”

  “What does King think of them?” Greer asked. She didn’t know the Alpha wolf, not in the sense that they were friends. But she’d met him and she respected the way he unofficially ran New Orleans.

  “I would never deign to answer for King. But if those dragons left town, I don’t think he’d lose any sleep over it.”

  That was answer enough. Since Reaper didn’t ask who King was, she figured he might know. And because the energy rolling off him right now felt almost electrified, she knew it was time to leave. He was keyed up and that was never a good thing when a dragon was involved.

  Pulling out cash, she set some on the table and smiled apologetically at Christian. “I think I need to go, but I’ll be in town a while. We’ll definitely get together again.”

  Smiling, he stood and pushed her money back at her. “I would kiss your cheek but I like my head where it is.”

  Reaper simply grunted in approval as Greer shot him a dark look. She kissed Christian on the cheek anyway and left her money where it was. “I’ll call you.”

  She and Reaper strolled out onto the uneven sidewalk.

  “Did you walk here?” she asked him.

  “No.”

  Okay, then. “Would you like to walk back?”

  “Yes… Soon I will find my hoard and retrieve my treasure.”

  She blinked at the odd, abrupt change in topic. “Oh, ah, okay. That’s great for you.”

  Two human females holding hands as they walked their dog strolled by so she and Reaper moved out of the way, stepping onto the street to avoid them.

  “I’m telling you so you know that soon I will have funds with which to take care of myself. Of you.”

  Wait…what? It took her all of a second to understand what he meant. “Look, Reaper—”

  “I know you desire me,” he said confidently as they stepped back onto the sidewalk.

  Thankfully there weren’t many people walking right now to overhear this bizarre conversation. “Reaper—”

  “I definitely enjoy when you say my name.” He gently took her elbow as they stepped over a broken sidewalk square.

  She’d be a liar if she said she didn’t like the feel of his hand on her. “I might be attracted to you, but that means nothing.”

  “I told you, I will have funds—”

  Sighing, she stopped and moved to stand in front of him on the sidewalk. “I don’t care about money. I don’t need you to ‘take care of’ me. We’re far too different to do…anything.”

  He frowned, watching her for a long moment before his gaze dipped to her mouth. Heat and hunger burned bright, as if he’d completely ignored everything she’d just said. She had the insane urge to lean in and nip that delicious bottom lip. “Do you like ice cream?” he abruptly asked.

  “Ah…yes. Chocolate is my favorite. Why?”

  “Prima gave me some and I enjoy this chocolate as well. See, we do have some things in common.”

  She laughed lightly and had started to respond when he straightened subtly and started moving again, wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

  It didn’t feel possessive, however. It was more protective than anything. And he was hurrying her along.

  “What’s wrong?” she murmured.

  “We are not alone.”

  That could
mean any number of things, but for him to want to move her away from here, he must sense another supernatural. She did too, but…there were supernatural scents everywhere. That in itself was not strange.

  “What is this place?” he asked as they passed a large wall and two oversized gates.

  “A graveyard. It’s where humans bury their dead. This one is closed at night, hence the locked gate.”

  “No one is inside?”

  “I doubt it.”

  “Good.” He looked around, then broke the lock with one hand. “We need to shift and fly.”

  She wanted to question him, but on this she would trust him. Reaper didn’t seem afraid, just concerned. And she would trust his concern—especially since she scented at least half a dozen dragon shifters nearby.

  None that she knew either. Which didn’t mean anything, but Reaper had her best interests at heart.

  That, she would bet her life on.

  * * *

  Brennus cursed internally as he watched Reaper and the attractive female he had recently learned was part of the Petronilla clan enter the graveyard. This would be the perfect place to attack Reaper but he wasn’t certain he could overtake the male. He was certainly strong enough, but he wasn’t ready to play his hand just yet. He didn’t know enough about the female with him, other than her clan.

  He’d thought that Cale of the Cearrach clan would kill Reaper once he scented Reaper on Cynbel’s head. But instead, Reaper had met with them and then left. Fucking Cale and Damari should have eliminated him.

  Instead of following after Reaper and the female, he called out, using his clanmates’ signal, indicating they should return to base.

  Changing directions, he soared over the city, his camouflage still firmly in place.

  Brennus hated that he lived in secret, that all supernaturals did. They were fucking kings. Gods. They should not be living in the shadows, worried that humans might see them. Right now he should be flying over the city in all his glory, with humans watching in fear and awe. Soon they wouldn’t hide.

  Soon humans would bow to them.

  It was the way it had once been, so long ago that the humans of today did not remember. It had not been recorded in their history. Instead dragons were the things of myth, legends.