"Or maybe that's why you keep it so cold in here. To keep her weak."
Eyes narrowed, Jason said, "Dragons can go days, weeks without food. Then, suddenly, an intense craving comes over them. Do you know what they eat when this craving comes upon them, Alex?"
He swallowed. He didn't know, but he could guess.
"They eat whatever is in sight," Jason answered, leaning back in his chair. "And do you know what Teira will crave when the hunger hits her? You, Alex. You. She won't have to change to dragon form. She'll just start biting."
A wave of dizziness hit him as he shook his head in denial. "She wouldn't hurt me." He didn't know when he'd started to think of Teira as his ally. He didn't know when he'd lost his animosity toward her. He only knew that hers was the only kindness he'd known these last weeks.
"You sound so confident. So stupid." Jason laughed. "I know the nature of the beast, and I know beyond a doubt that when the time comes, she will feast on your body because you will be the only food in sight. She may not want to, she may hate herself for it, but she will do it."
"Why are you doing this? Why go to all this trouble? Kill me already and get it over with."
"Tell me where the medallion is, and I'll let you go. We'll forget this ever happened."
Liar , he almost shouted. Unless Jason meant to let him go with his head detached from his body.
Lethargy began to weave through the dizziness, and he closed his eyes. "I don't know where it is," he said. His voice sounded far away, lost.
"Need I remind you that I'm not above using your mother? Your aunt? Your sister? Patrick, one of the men who found Grace, would like nothing more than to spread her legs before he kills her."
Alex couldn't manage to open his lids; they were simply too heavy. He said weakly, "If anyone touches a single member of my family, I will-"
"You will what?" Jason said mockingly.
He didn't respond. There was no threat great enough… and there was nothing he could actually do. Not here, not now, and not while the drugs crawled through his system. Not while his body suffered from blood loss. Sleep, he just wanted to sleep.
"We've searched your home, Grace's home and even your mother's home. No one's been hurt yet. That can all change in an instant, Alex. I'm running out of patience." Jason pushed to his feet and walked around the table. He knelt in front of Alex. He gripped his hair and forced his head back, forced him to stare up into his eyes. "Do you understand?"
"Yes," he whispered hoarsely.
"You're pathetic."
His hair was released, but he didn't have the neck strength to keep his head from slamming into the ground. He rolled onto his side and knew nothing more.
How long passed before the sweet fragrance of seawater invaded his senses, he couldn't fathom a guess. But when he opened his eyes, Teira was curled beside him, sleeping peacefully. Instinctively he jerked away as Jason's words flitted through his mind. She won't need to change into dragon form, she'll just start biting .
Teira's pale lashes fluttered open, and the corners of her lips gifted him with a sleepy smile-a smile that did odd things to his stomach.
She studied his expression, and her smile slowly faded. "What wrong?"
As he studied her in return, he lost his trepidation. A bruise marred her cheek, barely visible under the dirt covering her. "Nothing's wrong," he said, his throat scratchy. Still a bit groggy, he reached out and gently caressed the discoloration.
"You look in pain," she said.
"How long did I sleep?" he asked.
She shrugged.
His fingers moved from her cheek and cupped her jaw. "What did they do to you?"
"They not hurt me," she assured him. "I think they fear I hurt them."
He chuckled, a low rumble that reverberated in his chest. She looked so delicate, it was hard to imagine her as a fearsome dragon.
"How you feel?" Concern glinted in her golden eyes. She placed her hand over his heartbeat.
"Better." Much better now that she was here. But the shakes would come again, he knew, and so would the need. "Teira." He sighed. "I'm sorry for how I've treated you." Born to a staunchly Southern father, he was ashamed of his behavior toward her. He might live in New York, but like every gentleman, he still opened car doors, still paid for meals and still called women when he said he would. Not that the ones he dated expected it. "I thought you worked for them, but that's no excuse."
Her gaze skittered shyly away from him. "I like being with you."
Her confession pleased him, warmed him as surely as a winter coat. She wasn't his type, but he was attracted to her all the same. A powerful attraction he couldn't hide anymore. Didn't want to hide anymore. "I like being with you, too," he admitted. He liked her more than he should.
Leaning up, hesitant, she placed a soft kiss on his lips. He knew she meant it as a chaste peck, a swift kiss of solace, but he pried her lips open with his own and swept his tongue deep. At first, she stiffened. But when she relaxed, she went wild in his arms. She came alive, plunging her tongue into his mouth, moaning her demands, fisting her hands in his hair and fueling his own response.
The air around them sizzled and that sizzle simmered in his blood. Her body pressed to his, her lithe curves a perfect fit. He'd gladly sprint to his death if only to die with her taste in his mouth. He reveled in her flavor, sweet and guileless, like the purest ocean, and unlike any female he'd ever tasted.
With a groan, he gripped her by the waist, clenching the fabric of her sheer gown in his hands. He settled her on top of him. He didn't care if cameras watched them. He didn't care that she was wrong for him. His need for her was too great. He deepened the kiss, exploring more of her mouth, running his tongue over her teeth. He allowed his fingers to trace a path down her spine, allowed them to cup her bottom and anchor her snugly against his growing erection.
She gasped his name, and the moment she did, she seemed to snap out of her haste. She tore her face from him. Their gazes locked, all hot and needy; their ragged exhalations blended. He fought the urge to tug her back down.
"Alex?" she said on a fragile catch of breath.
His hands shook as he smoothed pale strands of hair out of her face. "Yes, Teira." God, yes. His voice sounded slow and slurred, yet it had nothing to do with drugs and everything to do with the woman in his arms. His need for her surpassed any he'd ever known.
She caught her bottom lip between her teeth, and he watched as its plumpness tugged free. His shaft jerked in response. Then she leaned down, placing her lips next to his ear. "I can take us to freedom."
He paused, absorbing her words. "How?" he whispered fiercely, his arms tightening around her.
The corners of her lips turned up in a wry grin. "I stole a medallion."
Alex's smile matched hers. He laughed. They just might be able to escape. Which meant he could feed this woman real food-then spend the next few days with her in bed.
CHAPTER 14
Darius gazed at the sights around him.
Buildings towered as far as the eye could see, stretching toward the skyline-a skyline that was wide and open, cloudy, not filled with crystal and water. Colors, so many colors. They glowed from signs; they blurred together as masses of people strode past him. Even the sun shone brightly of yellow, orange and gold. What struck him most of all, however, was the multitude of scents that intermingled and cloyed the air.
The overload to his senses was strangely welcoming.
This place did not offer the lush, green foliage of his home, yet New York was beguiling and lovely in its own right. A place that called out to the beast within him-just as Grace did.
When this was over, he would-No, he could not think that way. He could not allow himself to envision Grace in his future. He must finish this.