hope for. Everything’s connected, and everything’s always shifting, adding power to the matrix.”
“That’s…interesting.” Esme eased her hands out of theirs.
Anjali sighed. “I know, I know. I didn’t want to believe in it either.”
“Anyway,” Piper said, “we don’t hate you too , because he doesn’t hate you.”
“He does,” Esme said. “Or he would, if he’d stop letting his…trouser snake do all the thinking.”
Piper sighed. “The code word works better than I thought it would.”
They got drunk. It’d been a long time since they got so drunk. It wasn’t even midnight when Torch sent a security detail to drag their butts upstairs.
“I’m so, so, so sorry,” Esme slurred. “This is all my fault.”
“Yup,” Anjali said. “Do you hear that?” she shouted into the one security guy’s shoulder-mounted radio. “It’s her fault.”
The guy grunted. “It’s her fault you drank too much?”
“They’re my friends,” Esme explained with owl-eyed intensity. “They did it for me.”
“You should see what we do for our enemies,” Piper proclaimed.
Everyone ignored her since she had kicked off her shoes and lost a crucial few inches. They dumped her into Rave’s arms at the top of a flight of spiral stairs leading down to—Esme peered as far as she could around the spiral—who knew where. Apparently Piper knew because she grinned in anticipation as Rave lifted her off her bare feet. She waggled her toes in goodbye and laid her head on his shoulder.
Torch took over Anjali at a set of double doors leading to a huge, domed atrium that Esme caught only a brief glimpse of before her friend poked her shoulder and said, “Have a good night.”
Then she too was gone.
Esme slumped between the three large security guys. She’d had bodyguards before and knew how it worked. They didn’t speak as they led her to the Amber Suite and opened the door for her. They ushered her through and left her there in the big empty room.
The golden light from the amber chandelier was pretty, but it didn’t scintillate with all the colors of the rainbow like Bale’s gemstone-encrusted caverns. It wasn’t even the sensual darkness of her own bed when he was in it.
But she couldn’t. She just…couldn’t…
She stumbled through a shower and into bed.
The nightmare grabbed her before her head hit the pillow.
***
Bale twisted awake, his dragon searching for the threat.
He was on his feet, across the room, and stabbing for the elevator button before he realized he’d dressed and was reaching out with his left hand.
A hand he hadn’t seen in longer than he remembered.
He twisted his hand in front of his face then made a fist. The muscle in his bicep quivered at the strain.
He knew what it meant, but he also knew he’d stolen it from his unwilling solarys.
Was that any better than what Ashcraft had wanted to steal from him?
He nodded to the security outside the Amber Suite. Torch must have warned them, because they ducked their heads and stepped aside without questioning him.
He might’ve been exasperated at their kow-towing, but he was too focused on getting to Esme.
She had cried out. He knew it like he knew his own hand. Again, finally.
The lights were all off, but she’d left the curtains open in the bedroom, and the reflected neon lights shined across the bed where she’d whipped the sheets into a tangled mess.
The dragon smelled her fear and anger, the astringent bite as sharp as broken glass, as he strode to her side.
“Esme?” He brushed his left hand over her head and closed his eyes for a moment at the sensation of silk gliding under his fingertips, like the most delicate wind.
He needed to fly, and soon, lest he lose this opportunity.
But she came first.
Despite his words and touch—or maybe because of it—she thrashed her head against the pillow, her features twisted.
He slid up onto the bed beside her, aware of the soft mattress, the fine thread
“That’s…interesting.” Esme eased her hands out of theirs.
Anjali sighed. “I know, I know. I didn’t want to believe in it either.”
“Anyway,” Piper said, “we don’t hate you too , because he doesn’t hate you.”
“He does,” Esme said. “Or he would, if he’d stop letting his…trouser snake do all the thinking.”
Piper sighed. “The code word works better than I thought it would.”
They got drunk. It’d been a long time since they got so drunk. It wasn’t even midnight when Torch sent a security detail to drag their butts upstairs.
“I’m so, so, so sorry,” Esme slurred. “This is all my fault.”
“Yup,” Anjali said. “Do you hear that?” she shouted into the one security guy’s shoulder-mounted radio. “It’s her fault.”
The guy grunted. “It’s her fault you drank too much?”
“They’re my friends,” Esme explained with owl-eyed intensity. “They did it for me.”
“You should see what we do for our enemies,” Piper proclaimed.
Everyone ignored her since she had kicked off her shoes and lost a crucial few inches. They dumped her into Rave’s arms at the top of a flight of spiral stairs leading down to—Esme peered as far as she could around the spiral—who knew where. Apparently Piper knew because she grinned in anticipation as Rave lifted her off her bare feet. She waggled her toes in goodbye and laid her head on his shoulder.
Torch took over Anjali at a set of double doors leading to a huge, domed atrium that Esme caught only a brief glimpse of before her friend poked her shoulder and said, “Have a good night.”
Then she too was gone.
Esme slumped between the three large security guys. She’d had bodyguards before and knew how it worked. They didn’t speak as they led her to the Amber Suite and opened the door for her. They ushered her through and left her there in the big empty room.
The golden light from the amber chandelier was pretty, but it didn’t scintillate with all the colors of the rainbow like Bale’s gemstone-encrusted caverns. It wasn’t even the sensual darkness of her own bed when he was in it.
But she couldn’t. She just…couldn’t…
She stumbled through a shower and into bed.
The nightmare grabbed her before her head hit the pillow.
***
Bale twisted awake, his dragon searching for the threat.
He was on his feet, across the room, and stabbing for the elevator button before he realized he’d dressed and was reaching out with his left hand.
A hand he hadn’t seen in longer than he remembered.
He twisted his hand in front of his face then made a fist. The muscle in his bicep quivered at the strain.
He knew what it meant, but he also knew he’d stolen it from his unwilling solarys.
Was that any better than what Ashcraft had wanted to steal from him?
He nodded to the security outside the Amber Suite. Torch must have warned them, because they ducked their heads and stepped aside without questioning him.
He might’ve been exasperated at their kow-towing, but he was too focused on getting to Esme.
She had cried out. He knew it like he knew his own hand. Again, finally.
The lights were all off, but she’d left the curtains open in the bedroom, and the reflected neon lights shined across the bed where she’d whipped the sheets into a tangled mess.
The dragon smelled her fear and anger, the astringent bite as sharp as broken glass, as he strode to her side.
“Esme?” He brushed his left hand over her head and closed his eyes for a moment at the sensation of silk gliding under his fingertips, like the most delicate wind.
He needed to fly, and soon, lest he lose this opportunity.
But she came first.
Despite his words and touch—or maybe because of it—she thrashed her head against the pillow, her features twisted.
He slid up onto the bed beside her, aware of the soft mattress, the fine thread
Similar Books
