Hour of the Dragon - Heather Killough-Walden Page 0,73

fault.

“Why would he do that?”

“Probably because he knew I would search for you and the bastard wanted to keep you all to himself.”

Annaleia tried so hard to process that, to think of Jarrod Sterling being that kind of person. The problem was, it wasn’t all that difficult for her to imagine Sterling being that kind of person. He was an incubus and a warlock. There were a lot of shadows there.

“Ares” dug his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and regarded her with keen eyes. “So…” he began with circumspect. “Fifty years.”

She didn’t say anything. She was squinting her eyes, trying desperately to see through whatever Sterling had done.

But Ares went on. “Five decades ago, you disappeared on me, Raindrop” he said. She eyed him from behind a lock of too-long bangs that she hadn’t trimmed in a while. It was shot-through with streaks of gold from the Australia sun. Seeing it made all of this seem even more unreal.

When she managed to see around it, she saw that Ares was peering at her left temple where her birthmark rested. Something secret flickered in his eyes.

Or something not-so-secret, she thought. If he really was a dragon, then he’d heard of the Withered by now. And if he was Ares, then maybe he was finally figuring everything out where she was concerned.

He extracted a hand from his pocket and rubbed the stubble on his chin, but every muscle in his body was taut with checked power. It was patently obvious that he was feeling a good deal of emotion and controlling it well. Especially if he was a dragon. They weren’t known for negotiation.

But the tiny display was mouth-watering for Annaleia. An act as inauspicious as rubbing his chin forced his toned body to ripple. It was ridiculous how perfect this guy was.

She wondered which kind of dragon he would be.

A black dragon, she thought. Obviously. Antares could only ever be a black dragon.

He took a quick breath, drawing her from her inner thoughts. “Let me see if I can take a stab at what went down after you…” His hand paused on his chin, ever-so-slightly clenched. “Left me that morning,” he continued coldly, his eyes still glued to the moon-shaped mark on her temple. He lowered his hand and shoved it back into his jeans pocket, which tugged the waistband of the jeans down just long enough for Anna to see that V of muscle on his lower torso.

She swore internally and hated herself for the fierce attraction she suddenly felt. She was behaving like a lunatic.

The human dragon finally turned away from her and paced a few feet, putting more safe distance between them.

With his back to her and his tone softer and enigmatic he said, “You were in an accident, weren’t you? One that should have left you dead but didn’t. Not permanently, anyway.”

She almost confirmed that for him with a “Yes,” but decided to remain quiet and listen instead. Let him talk. That was sometimes how you learned the most.

He went on. “But you had a heads up that the accident was coming. And I’m wagering it was Sterling who gave it to you.” He paused, his substantial back muscles tensed. “So you died, but the magic in you brought you back. My guess is Sterling knew all of this would happen, and he offered his help in exchange for… something only you could give him.” There was an acidic edge to his voice now, like a knife’s blade dipped in poison. Smooth, but deadly. “Of course you caved. After all, it’s only sex.”

She waited for him to turn and pin her with some kind of cosmically powerful gaze, but he didn’t. Oddly enough, when he had his back to her, he absolutely looked like the Antares she remembered, and now that she could concentrate on it, he had the same voice. It had always sounded to her like beautiful savagery dressed in fine tailoring.

“Sterling kept his end of the bargain; he’d be a fool not to. And it must have been something seriously vital he leveraged. But he would have done anything – bled out a hundred times – to wager that deal with you, Raindrop. Trust me.”

Anna found she was trembling again. But now for a different reason.

He lowered his head, every muscle along the back of his body flexed taut. “Then you kept your end. And you slept with him.”

Anna winced. What he didn’t say was so pregnant with rage, it felt