Lord of Rain (The Dragon Demigods #5) - Charlene Hartnady Page 0,1

even trust this human? I’m not sure we can. Lyre’s head is in the gutter. He looks just about as pussy-whipped as a man can get. I can’t trust his judgment when it comes to Morgan. “I had a feeling. Don’t overreact to my next question—”

We both hear a car pulling up outside. The engine cuts. It’s them! Lyre’s girlfriend and the harpy who just happens to be here to drain my power. I’m supposed to let her, or she’ll kill Morgan. I won’t underestimate either of them. Lyre’s phone starts to ring. “Yes?” he barks, sounding nervous.

“We’re here,” I hear a feminine voice say on the other end of the line. “Is the door unlocked?”

“It is. We’re up the stairs in the living room.” The harpy was here once before when Lyre brought her home. When she took his powers. My skin prickles. My muscles bunch as I squeeze my hands into fists. I don’t like this one bit.

“I see your friend’s car is parked outside,” the woman says, sounding ecstatic. I’m going to assume it’s the harpy. “So far, so good. I will have a gun to Morgan’s head. If you try anything, she dies. Are we clear?”

“Yes,” Lyre says, his voice cold. I see his jaw tighten. He looks like he’s fighting for control.

“We’ll be up in a minute,” she says.

“I look forward to this being over,” Lyre mutters.

I assume she ends the call because he puts his phone in his pocket, turning to me. “You heard?” He raises his brows. His eyes are unnaturally dark.

I nod once.

“What did you want to ask me?” he asks.

“Can you trust this human?” I’m not one to mince my words.

“I trust her one hundred percent,” he answers immediately. It looks like he wants to tell me something but thinks better of it. I feel marginally better that he trusts her without question, but…back to the part about him being pussy-whipped by the human. I will stay on my guard when it comes to both women.

“We’re on our way up,” a female says from the bottom of the stairs.

I can hear that there are two of them, but Morgan doesn’t say anything.

“Keep your hands where I can see them,” she snaps. “You don’t want blood staining your nice wooden floors, do you?” the harpy says.

I hear how Lyre grinds his teeth as they make their way up. The harpy is behind and just to the right of Morgan. Compared to the human, who I would describe as being average-sized for a woman, the harpy is tiny. Like a hummingbird to a pigeon. Her skin is like porcelain. Her hair cascades down her back in waves, but it’s a little thin and lackluster. Her eyes are a gorgeous blue, but they’re hard and cold. She’s attractive, but not as off the charts as Lyre described her. I’d say she’s a little on the thin side. Quite frankly, I’m disappointed.

The harpy has a gun pressed tightly to the human’s temple. As soon as they hit the landing, Gabby grabs Morgan around her torso, putting the gun into the underside of Morgan’s jaw. If she pulled the trigger, she would blow Morgan’s brains out. Lyre puts his hands up as the universal sign for being unarmed. I do the same.

Morgan has a gag in her mouth. Her eyes are calm as they lock with Lyre’s. She looks down and then back up and then sharply down again. Then she does a side-to-side movement with her eyeballs. I try not to frown. She’s obviously trying to tell Lyre something. I hope to god he knows what the fuck she’s talking about because I don’t have a clue.

“You,” Gabby says, looking my way. “What’s your name, handsome?”

I have to work hard not to tell her to go and fuck herself. I’m tempted to shoot a lightning bolt into her brain. Being able to control lightning is another one of my powers. It ties in with weather…thunderstorms and all that. Problem is, if I electrocute her, I’ll fry the human as well. I have a feeling Lyre would kill me if I hurt so much as a hair on her head. The guy is smitten. Far worse than I ever thought. This situation is getting more fucked up by the second. “Lyre,” I say, turning to him, “the harpy is exactly as you described her.”

“Oh?” Gabby licks her lips. She’s looking at me with greed and longing. Definitely a junkie. “How did he describe me?”

“Small, sexy, and

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