Enemy Lover

“And how did Mark know about the Draicon?” Renee asked.

Shrugging, Jamie stared at the shelves of herbs lining the wall. “Mark knew secrets about the magick world. He was my only family and I trusted him.

“That night, Mark needed help coaxing out a stray dog from this building he’d just bought. Said he would meet me there. He told me to wear new clothing he’d sprayed with this chemical compound to hide my scent so Damian couldn’t find me. I was inside the building searching for the dog when I heard motorcycles in the alley. I peered outside and I saw … I saw … Mark. He was facing Damian and these five bikers, all tall and dressed in leather …"

Emotion squeezed her throat. “I heard Damian say, ‘That’s him, Mark Walsh. Kill him.’ Th-the bikers undressed and turned into wolves. I saw Damian shape-shift into this huge wolf and … Mark screamed … Damian, he was … he was …” She squeezed her eyes shut, remembering the snarls, muscled wolves, the awful sounds her brother made as he died.

“I fainted. When I woke, I went into the alley. There was nothing but gray ash.” Jamie gulped down a breath. “I reported Mark missing and the police told me a witness saw Mark killed by muggers. Then I just ran, because I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Oh, Jamie,” the woman said softly. Opening her arms in invitation, she beckoned to her.

Oh, she wanted to! Wanted to let the older woman give her comfort she’d needed since Mark’s death. But Jamie didn’t dare remove the layer of steel she’d erected to shelter her from the uncaring world.

She shook her head. “I stayed in hotels, afraid to go home, afraid Damian would find me. A few days later, I met his friend. Nicolas was supposed to keep me safe until Damian arrived. I told Nicolas I’d go with him if he taught me magick.”

A grim smile replaced grief. “He did. And I used it to find the Morphs, gain magick and try to kill Damian. They used my blood to make a lethal disease and I infected him with a kiss.”

Anguish touched Renee’s expression. “You’ve suffered a horrible loss. But why would Damian order your brother killed? Perhaps you don’t know the full story.”

Jamie bristled. “He probably knew Mark was going to go after him for seducing me. I saw my own brother ripped to pieces. Draicon are merciless killers.”

The cries still echoed in her mind. The terrible screams of pain and tearing sounds …

Renee gently reached for her palm. “Jamie, you’ve had a rough life for one so young. You’re special, different and you suffered for it. It’s time you let go, and learned not everyone is the enemy. Sometimes the ones you think you can trust least are the ones you should trust most. They are your real family.”

Shifting in her chair, Jamie felt the rub of old scars against her lower back. Heard the mocking sneers from her cousins, felt the burning sting on her flesh …

Shame flared inside her. Relatives were highly overrated. “You’re more family than anyone else.” All I have left. “So there’s nothing you have to give me a smidgen of my old powers back?"

“Nothing.” Wisdom shone in Renee’s dark gaze. “What is holding you bound is ancient Draicon magick. If Damian did this, he did it to protect you.”

“I need an ancient Draicon spell to remove it. The Book of Magick.”

Renee looked troubled. “Such texts are meant to lie undisturbed, for they are too dangerous even in the hands of the wisest, most skilled sorceress.”

She wasn’t wise or skilled. But desperate.

“Promise me if you find the book, you will turn it over to the Draicon,” Renee begged. “You’ve already become a victim to terrible forces. The book could destroy you for good.”

“I wasn’t a victim, but a willing participant.”

The woman gently touched her wrist. “A victim, honey. The Morphs knew you were vulnerable. No matter how you argue the point, they took advantage of your weakness.”

Jamie bristled. “Not weak. Never. Thanks, Mama Renee. I can manage on my own.”

A cryptic expression touched the woman’s face. “Jamie, remember. Even good can come of darkness. The Draicon leader seeks you, and his kind need your healing power.”

The words made no sense. She didn’t heal, but destroy. Nothing made sense anymore.

The woman offered a sad smile. “And all Draicon are not evil.”

Jamie’s chest felt tight with emotion as she went with Renee into the main storefront. The little brass bell tinkled merrily behind her as she left.

Feeling lost, she headed for the Pedestrian Mall. Just another average day in the Quarter …

Jamie shrank back, her heart beating double time at the figure stalking toward her. Not Damian, the lean, chiseled face she remembered so well, but another, with cruel, twisted features, wispy hair and black, soulless eyes.

The Morph ambled along, its sallow, shrunken and hunched figure looking like a living nightmare. Couldn’t anyone see it? Run, you fools!

Jamie blinked hard. Instead of a Morph, she saw a middle-aged man in khaki shorts, his slight paunch covered by a flowered shirt.

I’m losing my damn mind.

Dragging in a lungful of air, she forced herself to relax. No Morphs stalked the streets. Only people, out for a good time. And one lone werewolf named … Damian.

Jamie froze in shocked fear.

Wind ruffled his short, dark hair. His elegant good looks made him stand out in the crowd like a sleek sports car among sedate sedans. He prowled with lithe grace toward her, his muscled body moving like a well-honed machine. Oblivious to the crowd, the artists, everything.

Everything but her. His hard green gaze riveted to her like a laser beam. Jamie’s heart raced.

Instinct urged flight. She turned, pushed past the crowd. Fast, faster, as she raced beneath the balconies of the Pontalba Apartments, feeling his breath on her like a warm caress of air.

A hand latched onto her upper arm, jerked her to a stop. Jamie gulped, panic racing through her veins, his muscled chest pressing against her as he herded her out of the crowd’s way against the brick building. Damian swung her into a faded doorway. Intensity radiated in his gaze.

“Jamie, ah, finally, I found you,” he said softly, her name rolling off his tongue in his whiskey-smooth accent.

“Let me go, Draicon. Let me go, now.”

She struggled against his steely grip. A hysterical sob rose in her throat. He was going to punish her for trying to assassinate him. Damian crowded her against the doorway, his legs pinning her against the wood. Trapped.

As she opened her mouth to scream for help, he pulled her against his hard body.

His lips descended on hers, cutting off her cry with a kiss.

Chapter 2

His kiss shocked Jamie into immobility. It was gentle, barely a brushing of lips. Damian raised his head, his expression softened. Hysteria fled as he cupped her face with his warm hands.

“Don’t scream, chère. I promise, I won’t hurt you, ma petite.”

With a mere touch, he extinguished her panic. Damn it, what was this? Draicon magick?

“I’m not going to hurt you, Jamie. That’s the last thing I want. I want to help you.” His expression grew fierce and intent. “But first … damn …"

He kissed her again.

Jamie sagged in his arms. Feeling the current sparking between them as it had on that night when they’d first met. Her head fell back as he cradled her neck in his palm. Her hands slid up around his neck, feeling rock-hard muscle beneath warm skin. Jamie hung on for dear life like a drowning woman. Tasting him as his tongue boldly invaded her mouth, flicked against hers. Challenging him in return, her tongue tangling in a duet of hot desire and lost passion. It felt as magical and crazy and uncontrollable as when he’d first taken her.

This wasn’t real. Or right. Or anything, but the moment, the succulent taste of him in her mouth, claiming it with each firm thrust of his tongue.

Jamie clutched fistfuls of his shirt, drawing him closer. Only then did Damian break the kiss. A low groan rumbled from him as he stepped back, never losing his grip on her. Intent burned in his gaze.

Alarmed and dismayed, Jamie licked her lips. I just kissed my brother’s murderer. The Draicon I tried to kill.

Damian laid a palm against her cheek. “Hush,” he murmured. “I won’t hurt you.”

“Then lift that damn spell of yours.” Jamie stopped moving, stricken by the calming feel of his touch. She stared at him, taking in his strong, square chin, straight nose and high cheekbones. Classical good looks. And a werewolf lurking inside.

She had tried to kill him in New Mexico, but Nicolas, his beta, had healed Damian. And then Damian had cast a binding spell, prohibiting her from doing magick. The dark powers Kane, the Morph leader, had bestowed on her had vanished. Damian had said it was because the Morphs wouldn’t want her without her powers.

But he lied. She knew it.

She then had escaped, but he’d found her. No matter. She would escape him once more.

“I can’t. The magick in you is dark. Until I can erase it, the spell remains.”

“I’ll find a way around it. I can defeat you, Draicon.”

A shadow crossed his face. “There are things you must know, Jamie. You’re in danger. You need my help.”

“Your help? I’d rather kiss a Morph. At least they gave me power.”

He gave her a pensive look. “What did Kane do to give you magick?"

“I had sex with him,” she taunted.

Now that full mouth flattened into a thin slash. He looked dangerous and edgy. Leaning closer, he seemed to nuzzle her neck. No, he was sniffing her, like a wolf scenting a rabbit. Damian drew back. Male satisfaction gleamed in his eyes.

“You didn’t. I can’t smell him on you. You haven’t been with another male since me.”

Her chin rose. “I could. Probably someone would trade me sex for a way to release your binding spell.”

A dark look draped his features. Damian offered a thin smile, but his green eyes spoke volumes. Rage and male possessiveness.

“Don’t sell yourself short, Jamie. Your body is worth much more. And if you try it, I’ll find the male and make him regret he ever laid eyes on you.” He paused, his strokes against her neck gentle compared to the murderous fury flashing in his eyes. “I’ll rip him apart. Slowly.”

White canines flashed in his dark smile … the teeth elongating as if he were shape-shifting. Jamie tilted her chin up, refusing to show fear.

“And me? What would you do with me?”

Damian’s expression shifted. The intensity of his look was strong enough to melt steel.

“What I’d do with you? I’d rip off your clothing and I’d put my mouth all over your body and make you come until you screamed for mercy. There’d never be another male for you, ever, because every time you’d try to get close to another I’d be there, my scent in your nostrils, my taste in your mouth and the feel of my cock inside you.”

He released her neck and gave her nose a light, almost affectionate tap. “Understand?"

Jamie moistened her kiss-swollen mouth. A deep, primitive urge rose at the way he stared at her lips. His muscles locked as his pupils got larger, nearly overriding the jade-green irises. Damian might have some odd sexual hold over her, but damn, she had the same over him. She had the odd feeling if she had the courage, she could wield a much greater power. But her lack of experience and inner terror of Damian’s power held her back.

“I get it. You stripped my powers to punish me. Fine. Let’s deal. I’ll make up for it if you get rid of this damn spell. If you don’t, I’ll find another way. Like a hidden book of magick, Draicon.”

Damian lightly trailed long fingertips over her cheek. “My name is Damian, not Draicon.” His voice suddenly softened. Was there a note of regret there? She couldn’t tell. “There’s no need to make up for anything, Jamie. The binding spell is there for your own protection. Trust me, it’s best.”

“I know what’s best for me. I don’t need you or anyone else.”

Torment flashed in his eyes, then he closed them. Bemused, she stared at the long sweep of dark lashes against his tanned cheeks. Damian opened his eyes, the emotion gone. “Walk with me. We need to talk. It’s urgent.”

She didn’t want to, but the warm palm he cupped on her elbow suggested otherwise. Damian began steering her toward the river.

“Let me go. I don’t trust you.”

He stopped, giving her a solemn look. “I haven’t given you good reason to trust me, either. But we must talk. We’ll go to Café du Monde. Very public, so if you feel threatened, there’s people around and you can scream for help. Okay?"

The devil offered her an irresistibly sweet deal. Hunger pulled with the image of a crisp beignet coated with layers of glistening powdered sugar.

People crowded the green-and-white-striped canopied café. Damian guided her to a quiet table outside. He pulled a chair out for her.

Torn between wanting to flee and hunger, Jamie sat. Damian took the seat beside her, so close his leg touched hers. She shuffled over; he followed. He seemed determined to stay close. Damian frowned as he examined her dejected expression. Reaching over, he cupped her chin, lifted it to his scrutinizing gaze.

“Hey,” he said softly. “Relax. It will get better. The world hasn’t collapsed.”

My world has, she wanted to say, feeling her throat constrict. Instead she offered a brave shrug that hid her emotions.

Damian gave her a long, thoughtful look. He didn’t question her further, but released his grip and gave their order to a tired-looking waitress. Barely had she left when Jamie ripped a paper napkin out of the holder and spread it over on the tabletop. She shook the glass sugar container over the napkin, then unscrewed it, dumping out the contents onto the napkin.

His green eyes widened as she dug into the snowy mountain with her spoon and gulped down mouthfuls. “Easy,” he murmured.

Ignoring him, she continued eating. The rush kicked in, giving her a flood of energy. The spoon clattered to the table. The scarred tabletop resembled a white powder explosion. Damian looked deeply troubled.

“Wow, I knew sugar was supposed to give you a rush. I’ve been so tired lately.” She wiped her fingers with a fresh napkin.

His dark, heavy brows drew together. “Jamie, why did you ask the Morphs to grant you the power of flight when there were other powers you could have received?"

“I didn’t. Kane infected me with dark magick and told me it would shift to whatever natural form I desired.”

Damian’s gaze riveted to a fly landing near the sugar on the table. With amazing speed, his palm smacked down, killed the insect. She gave him a bemused look.

“Just a fly,” he mused, flicking it away. “But you can’t be certain. Not here.”

The waitress brought over plates of beignets and steaming cups of coffee. Behind horn-rimmed glasses, her eyes widened at the empty sugar container. “Are you guys nuts? I just filled that,” the woman snapped.

His eyes narrowed. “Then get another.”

Jamie sank back, watching as he sipped his black coffee. “You wanted to talk, so talk. Then I’m gone.”

Jade-green eyes met hers. “How long have you been eating like this, Jamie?"

“Since I dropped Weight Watchers. Any more questions? Are we done?"

“Jamie, how long have you eaten sugar like this?”

Obstinate Draicon. Jamie frowned, bemused at her bizarre behavior. “Today … I guess.”

“You’re certain this is the first craving you’ve had?” His voice sounded thick.

Jamie nodded and glanced at her coffee. She stared into the blackness. Black, like her soul had been. Once she would have done anything to hurt Damian. Now the desire for revenge fled, leaving only emptiness. Something inside remained as dark as the beings she’d lived among.

“Why are you here, Draicon?” she whispered. “To make me pay for what I did to you?"

His expression was blank, but he stroked her hand with his fingers as if he couldn’t bear not to touch her. “I told you, Jamie, my name is Damian. I’m here to keep you safe.”

Doubtful. He wanted something more. She could feel it.

“But, since you’ve broached the topic, why did you try to kill me? Most women don’t kill their lovers when they walk out.”

His voice was absolutely gentle, yet his laser green gaze demanded answers. Jamie plucked out a napkin and began twisting it into the shape of a small bird.

“I’m not most women.”

“There’s something more, isn’t there? What?”

Trust no one. Jamie dodged the truth.

“You lied to me, Draicon. At least with the Morphs, I knew what they were. Dark, powerful …"

“Evil.”

“But not two-faced. I played along. I thought you, what you did … after we … that night …” She struggled with the words. “I went back the next day to find you and you were gone. You broke your promise to teach me magick.”

The napkin twisted in her hands. Words hung unspoken between them.

He clasped her hands in his. The simple touch felt soothing. She stared down at his long, elegant fingers. Hands that crushed, killed.

“I left you a note, telling you where to meet me later.”

“There was no note.” Jamie wrenched free.

Damian’s mouth tightened. “Your … brother probably got to it first. I had to leave. I needed to get rid of a very large problem threatening you. I sent Nicolas, my best warrior, to find and guard you. I was going to teach you magick, but this other matter was more urgent. Now, answer my question. Why did you try to kill me, Jamie?"

“Why did you ground me?” she challenged. “This nonsense about me being your mate is a lie.”

“It’s not. You are my draicara, my destined mate, which makes no sense because you’re human and I’m an Alpha Draicon. We don’t bond with human women.” Damian looked grim.

“I’m human, so I can’t be your mate? Fine. We’re done here. Sorry I tried to kill you. Have a nice life.”

She pushed back from the table. He hooked an ankle around the chair leg. Jamie stared at his thigh muscles bunching beneath faded denim as he dragged her chair forward. Such power … She quivered, remembering his legs nestled inside hers, the soft hair rubbing against her skin as he thrust inside her.

Her startled gaze lifted to meet his. Damian gave a knowing smile. Little wrinkles fanned out from the corners of his eyes. He touched her hand, frowned.

“I can’t read you, even when we touch. Tell me, how did Kane infect you? Did he say anything?"

She glanced away, her stomach knotting. “Kane bit me. Like the bite of the loup garou. And he mumbled some words in a strange language.”

It had hurt, a lot. And more than the pain and the ecstasy of knowing she had power at last was an underlying shroud of evil. Jamie shivered.

“He was reciting a spell. The magick of a purebred Alpha may help.” He gave her a steady look. “My magick, Jamie.”

“So if you bite me, it will counter everything inside me? No thanks. One bite is bad enough.”

“There are other ways,” he said softly. “Much more enjoyable. I can make it very enjoyable.”

The meaning became clear in his heated gaze. Jamie drew back.

“Never again. I’m not having sex with you and what we had was just sex. Biology.” Afraid to look at him, lest she see a reflection of her own hidden desire.

“It wasn’t and will never be just sex between us, chère. You know it and I do, as well. It’s something neither of us can ignore. But I promise, I will never leave you again.”

Damian stroked the back of her hand with his thumb. “What was it like, Jamie? When the darkness came over you?"

Against her better judgment, she slid her fingers up to lace with his. He looked startled. His smile chased the dark shadows beneath his eyes. Just as quickly, it vanished. She raised her gaze, saw his curiosity and worry.

He’d probably never known the gut-wrenching grief, fear and desperation caused by losing everything he cared about. Thinking nothing, not even pure evil, could be as bad. Then finding out what happened before was a spin on a slow carousel compared to the rocketing slide into an oily blackness so deep her soul was a tiny light winking in the vast, empty space.

Her voice rasped like a nail file when she finally spoke.

“It was like being sucked into a black depth, feeling evil invade every single pore. Trapped beneath this vile quicksand. No light, no hope, no way out, nothing but the sounds of your own screams echoing back at you,” she whispered.

Damian squeezed her fingers, his jaw tensing. For a moment, turmoil flashed in his eyes as if he’d had a taste of that particular darkness. Then it vanished.

“Care for anything else?”

Their grumpy waitress was back. She looked edgy, fidgety. Probably the end of her shift.

“Hello? Like I said, need anything else?”

Damian barely cast her a cursory glance. “Give me the check and leave us alone.”

The woman dropped a slip of paper. As she glanced at their linked hands, her mouth drew back in a disapproving sneer. Lips pulled back, revealing …

Yellowed, razor-sharp teeth, like a crocodile’s.

Startled, Jamie blinked. No, just teeth stained from nicotine. The waitress cast another censuring look as she walked off.

What was this?

Trembling, she withdrew her hand, trying to conceal her reaction. She fished into her pocket and threw a fistful of bills on the table.

“My treat. It’s getting late. I need to get home.” But her legs felt wobbly. “Why am I feeling like this?” she said, rubbing her legs.

“I know why.” He glanced around and then reached for her hand. His touch was absolutely gentle. “Jamie, it’s very bad. When Kane infected you, he poisoned you.”

Disbelief filled her. His green eyes looked serious, his mouth tightened to a slash. “He infected you with his bite, and the porphyry spell. The more dark magick you used, the faster it worked. The reason you feel so lethargic is …"

He dragged in a deep breath. “Your body is turning to stone. The craving for sugar is the first symptom. You’re eating for quick energy, but it won’t last.”

Sharp, intense silence dripped between them. The crowd chattering, clinking china, the clopping of horses’ hooves on the street and the roar of traffic were the only sounds. Then she laughed.

“Mark told me you were a liar, but he never said Draicon were great spinners of fantasy.”

Anger darkened Damian’s eyes. “Your brother was the liar, little one. A dangerous liar. I know it must have been agonizing and terrifying when you lost him … and that’s why you ran away.”

You killed him, she wanted to scream. Jamie bit her lip. She traced a small pattern in the sugar on the table. “Did you hear how he died?"

“I know how he died. He wasn’t who you think he was, Jamie. When you’re ready, I’ll tell you what I know. I know it hurts to lose a family member.”

“You have no idea,” she whispered.

A shadow crossed his face. “I do, more than you realize.” Damian’s green gaze roved around the room. His jaw tightened. “We need to leave. Now. I feel it. You’re not safe here. You need to go home and rest.”

Rest. The thought sounded lovely. Jamie got to her feet. Dismay filled her as Damian joined her.

“I’m coming with you. Consider me your guest.” He offered her a roguish smile, filled with dark promise. Smooth, cool sheets, warm bodies curling next to each other as they tangled together in passion …

Stop it! Jamie sprinted away, but he easily kept pace.

“Haven’t you ever heard of a hotel? Or if you can’t afford one, there’s an animal shelter around. They take in strays,” she grated out.

Six feet of muscled werewolf stared her down, until she was forced to blink and look away. “You’re my mate, Jamie. Pack. Pack bands together. It’s how we survive. I won’t abandon you so get used to the idea of having me around for good.”