6

Chapter Six

Don’t worry darling, the monster doesn’t bite… Lynn stood outside the St. James mansion the next morning, enjoying the heat of the sun, fighting to ground herself back in reality, rather than the events of the night before. The dreams were bad enough. But what she had seen moments later had shocked her to her core. Or was it really a nightmare? She wiped her hands over her face as she stared around the pristine grounds, seeing the evergreen shrubs, the borders of blooming perennials, the elm and maple trees that shaded the two-story white brick mansion. She hadn’t slept. She had been too terrified to close her eyes, to take her gaze off the locked door that separated her room from Dragon’s. Afraid the dreams would return. Afraid he would enter. And if he did, she didn’t know if she could deny him. Not when everything inside her yearned for him.

He wasn’t human, she reminded herself. She had known that. She didn’t know why she expected him to look human… there.

She pushed her fringed bangs back from her forehead, convincing herself that the moisture on her forehead and over her lip was due to the heat. It had nothing to do with the memory of seeing Dragon jacking off the night before. What he had been jacking off was what threw her off balance.

The monster doesn’t bite… She bet that was the only thing it didn’t do. It was thick and long, heavily veined, though appearing ridged, and beneath the head—she shivered in what she convinced herself was fear—it was much thicker, appearing rather like a rooster’s comb running down beneath the thick tip of the erection. It was a dark as the rest of his body and heavily bronzed.

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Lora Leigh

She swallowed back her whimper as she felt her cunt ripple. Fear, she told herself. She was frightened, not aroused. And the monster, as he called it, was something to be frightened of.

But was it really fear? That was the question that tormented her. Fear wouldn’t leave her weak and wet. It wouldn’t make her hunger to run her lips and tongue over the unusual cock. It wouldn’t make her mind fill with images of Alyx taking her, dominating, stealing her will and replacing it with his own, a will to spread her thighs and open herself to him. To feel the monster impaling her with hard, strong thrusts. No, that wasn’t fear.

She grimaced as she realized what it was, realized that some of the nightmares of her past had been but misty warnings of what was coming. Her body supine, defenseless and vulnerable as she screamed. She had thought in pain, in fear. But as she shifted through the dark dreams she realized something more. It wasn’t pain. Wasn’t fear. Rather it was pleasure, exacting and brutal in its intensity, and she was beginning to crave it.

This mission was the most important one of her life and Lynn knew it. Ariel St. James had to live. She had to regain her strength to use the power embedded within that crystal. But even more than that, Lynn had known her place was by the other woman’s side, her power bracing the other woman’s until she could regain her strength. Just as she was beginning to realize that Alyx was a part of that power and her mission here as well.

“Lynn, pull your men in closer to the house.” Dragon’s voice filled the comm. link at her ear as her body suddenly went on alert.

“Pull in.” She sent the order out quickly as she turned and raced back into the house. “Assume base position.”

The order would have the two-dozen men and women surrounding the house. Half inside, half out.

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Dragon Prime

“What’s going on?” She couldn’t sense the psychic waves of malice that usually accompanied a strike. “They’ve never attacked in daylight before.”

She sprinted up the curved staircase to Ariel’s room.

“They’re moving in a more conventional pattern now,” Alyx said softly as she slid silently into the bedroom and positioned herself beside the bed. “You have two fourmen teams moving along the mountain in assassin formation. Keep your men alert, but I don’t think we’ll have a problem.”

Ariel was sleeping comfortably, a light flush of health on her cheeks as her body healed. Lynn quickly checked the bulletproof shutters that had been installed on the windows and the position of the bed away from them.

“Dragon, you keep me up-to-date,” she murmured quietly, unwilling to awaken her client.

The aliens communicated telepathically, a power she didn’t possess herself. Very few of her people did, so it wasn’t a dependable means of communication until Lynn and her warriors learned how to break through that final barrier on the psychic plane Alyx and his men had guided them into.

“Always, my love.” She winced at the shocked gasps and strangled snorts from the two-dozen men and women who worked under her.

She didn’t dignify the statement with an answer.

“Liz, you and Jack get up here with me,” she ordered two of the strongest psychics on the force. “If it’s Blackthorne men, I want a ready source of power.”

Providing the psychic shield needed to keep the terrorists from invading the room with their own waves of power had been steadily draining her strength. She hated using anyone else because of the danger involved, but she was too frightened that her own energy would fail when they needed it most.

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Lora Leigh

“I will be there to aid you should you need it, Lynn,” Alyx countered the order. “I merely need your people out of harm’s way. Sometimes Jonar gets brave and sends his own force as a last resort. Your people cannot come against them.”

The calm strength in his voice seemed to aid her failing powers. She took a deep breath and fought to relax as Liz and Jack entered the room. They took their positions. Those two on one side of the bed, Lynn across from them.

“Lynn, do not attempt to shield her yourself.” Dragon’s voice was firm now. “It will drain you too much. I promise, we have this under control.”

“You do your job, big boy, I’ll do mine,” she said quietly as she nodded at the other two agents. They would support her if her strength failed. She had never failed before.

“Lynn.” Dragon’s voice hardened as she relaxed back in her chair, closing her eyes and taking a deep, fortifying breath.

She ignored him. She cleared her mind as she allowed the power that seemed to hum in the very center of her soul to gather. It began to build, to gain in strength as she opened herself, directed the energy and let it free.

Lynn didn’t open her eyes, but she knew what the other two agents saw. The thin, misty-like dome that surrounded Ariel would be impenetrable by all but the strongest psychics. If needed, Lynn could call on the power of her entire force to lend their strength.

She could hear Dragon cursing. The sudden freedom, the opening of her senses, allowed her to see so much more as well. The assassins heading in weren’t mere psychics. They were warriors, much as Dragon and his men were, but hopefully not as strong.

The immortals. As always she had to fight her terror when knowing they were near. They were without souls, without mercy, and their power was so strong that even she had not sensed the dark cloud of energy pouring in front of them, ready to strike at the weakened Ariel at the first opportunity. But she saw more as well; a golden wave of energy meeting the dark cloud, directed by Dragon and his men. 48

Dragon Prime

Before her amazed senses she saw a battle waged on the psychic plane that she knew she might never glimpse again. Golden streams of power arched into the metaphysical level, meeting the dark menacing cloud head on. Flaring energy erupted in waves as each attack directed toward Ariel was thwarted before ever coming close to the dome Lynn had placed around her.

Snaking bolts of lightning, fire and pure electricity tore through the ominous power Blackthorne’s men had placed before them. On the ground, gunfire began to erupt as the terrorists shot wildly, desperate to wound or kill whoever dared to meet them with such strength.

The entire battle played before her mind as Dragon’s force played almost lazily with the enemy. She could see him, as plain as she would have if her eyes were open and she was standing beside him. He was sharpening the blade of a sword. A sword, for God’s sake. No conventional weapon. He showed no sign of stress or concern. Playing with the enemy as he tore a path of careless destruction through their psychic force.

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Lora Leigh