Draicon: Enemy Lover Part 20

"New York isn't bad. The tourists are very good for dinner," Raphael drawled.

"Not as much as Florida s...o...b..rds in season. ca c'est bon." Damian kissed his fingers in an exaggerated manner.

This was followed by a heated discussion on repulsive foods.

"The only food I refuse to touch is a black cat on Halloween night. Bad luck," Alexandre ventured. He grinned and reached for another steak.

Jamie's smile slipped. The meat she'd successfully downed turned to vinegar. She tried, oh, she tried, but suddenly time flashed back. Her stomach pitched and rolled. Fresh air, she needed fresh air. She was going to...

Bolting from the table, she clapped a hand over her mouth. Running down the hall, for the kitchen and the back door, praying, please, not here. Not going to make it, not going to make it, no, no...

She had barely dashed through the back door when she began retching into the garden. On her hands and knees, she emptied her stomach, her whole body shaking.

The back door banged. She didn't look up, only scrubbed her tears away. If someone came along and kicked her in the abdomen, she couldn't feel worse.

A pair of polished loafers came into view. Jamie wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Ashamed, she slowly stood.

Silently Damian handed her a small, clean towel. She scrubbed her mouth, wis.h.i.+ng she could cover herself with the cloth and vanish, like a magician's rabbit.

A soothing stroke of rea.s.surance entered her mind, like arms holding her. But the images she held there, the memories...

Too late, Jamie tried slamming Damian out. Shock glazed his eyes.

"Jamie, what did those b.a.s.t.a.r.ds do?" he asked hoa.r.s.ely. He gripped her upper arms gently, holding her steady.

Dropping the towel, Jamie dully let him guide her to a small wrought-iron chair, and collapsed onto it.

"Please, tell me. There's nothing you can't share with me." He pulled up a chair, sat and brushed back her sweat-dampened hair from her forehead. "Is this why you refused to eat with my family?"

Gulping down a breath, she nodded. He'd already seen the graphic horror. She didn't look at him.

"When my parents died, my aunt Miranda and uncle Clement took me in. They were my only relatives besides Mark, and he was off on some African expedition and didn't want me. Not until he realized he needed me to secure all our parents' inheritance. Uncle Clement was my mother's brother. He never liked her. Said she was the devil's child."

Oh G.o.d, this was so difficult. She struggled for words never told to anyone, not even Mark, who knew how cruel they were.

"I was five and different from my cousins. Refused to do what they liked-play with dolls or games. So they picked on me. Did stuff at the dinner table, salted my food, nasty kid stuff until my uncle got fed up and just fed me out on the porch, a plate on the floor, like the family dog. My cousins said it was because I wasn't fit company. I was...a witch. Just like my mother."

Damian kept stroking her head. She plucked up courage. "My best friend was a black cat. I loved Mercedes. She kept me company when no one else would play with me. I was terrified my cousins would find out. I hid Mercedes in the barn. But my cousins found her. They said only witches had black cats. The cat was evil. My uncle...he...he..."

Jamie wrapped her arms around herself and met his steady gaze. "He killed Mercedes. He...he...cut off her head and made me watch. That night, for the first time, they let me eat at the dinner table. They gave me a special plate. I thought...oh G.o.d, I thought they were being nice for once."

Horror tinged his expression, as if he antic.i.p.ated her next words.

"I ate the meat. It tasted a little funny, but I was so hungry...and then they started laughing at me. My cousin Ronnie told me what I was eating.... They'd cooked Mercedes.... I was eating my own d.a.m.n cat...."

Damian bit out a rich curse.

"I never ate meat again." She gulped down a breath. "Until the other day, when I ate the cube steak."

Acid rose in her throat. No tears. She couldn't cry, hadn't in years. Even then. Not one tear shed over losing the only real friend she had. And now, here in the quiet safety of the courtyard, she wanted to cry. Couldn't. Her eyes were drier than the Sahara, grief kept at bay like metal doors holding back howling dogs.

"Jamie," Damian said thickly.

Working up her courage, she glanced up. And saw to her dumbfounded shock something clear and wet glistening on his face.

A single tear dripped down Damian's cheek.

A single tear, just like the one she had wept over him as he'd lain dying.

Marveling, she touched the droplet. Brought it to her mouth, tasting it. Salty. Pure. This is what grief tastes like.

Jamie brought her hands to his face like a blind person, tracing over his cheeks, his solemn mouth, the anguished eyes. She wiped his tear away with her palm, her heart turning over as he opened his arms to her.

Curling up in his lap, she clutched fistfuls of his sweater as he held her. After a moment, she pressed a kiss into the strong muscles of his neck.

"I'll avenge you," he promised.

"Too late. I saw his obit a few years ago. Liver trouble."

His eyes darkened to swirls of furious green, like the sea churned by a violent hurricane. Damian cupped her face. "Never again will anyone or anything hurt you. So long as there is breath in my body I will see to it. Do you understand?"

His ferocity scared her a little, until she realized his anger was directed at her past. Jamie smiled, placing her hands over his.

Damian leaned down, his forehead touching hers. "You amaze me, ma belle pet.i.te. You are a beautiful, ever-changing zirondelle."

When the back door slammed, they looked up to see Raphael amble down the steps. Jamie scrambled to her feet. He gave her a long, thoughtful look. "If the steak isn't sitting well, we have chicken. But you must eat. Tell me what you want, and I'll prepare it."

His thoughtfulness surprised her. "I'm really okay."

"You need to keep up your strength or the spell will start spreading again." This from Damian, who came behind her, rested his hands on her shoulders. "Rafe, how is she doing?"

The Draicon leaned forward, reaching out for her face with his hand. Jamie shrank back.

"It's okay, Jamie. Let Rafe look at you. He's our Kallan, an immortal, and the only one who can dispatch the life of another Draicon without consequence. He can see into the eyes and discern a person's future. Let him examine you and he can see if the spell is accelerating," Damian said quietly.

Jamie blinked, wondering if she wanted this kind of power this close. But Damian was behind her, supporting her.

With a small start, she realized she trusted Damian.

She nodded. Raphael took her face in one hand. With the other, he gently opened her right eye wide. Jamie's gaze locked on his, drawn to the odd whiteness spreading over his pupil, turning it into brilliance-like fog-like looking into a yawning chasm of forever.

Her own death stared back at her.

Stifling a scream, she yanked away. Raphael released her, stepped back, shoving his hands into the pockets of his Armani jacket. Would ruin the lines, she thought dimly.

"Your magick is holding the spell at bay, Damian, but it'll begin spreading soon. Don't exercise any of your powers, Jamie, or it will accelerate," he said in an authoritative voice. "You need protein. I'll warm up some chicken for you."

Accelerate. Spreading poison in her system, turning her to granite, a living h.e.l.lish death...

"I need a few. I'll be back at the table in ten."

She ran upstairs, took a quick shower, brushed her teeth, willing herself to stop shaking.

I will not die.

Jamie dressed in a lavender silk blouse and a floral skirt with kick pleats, slipped her feet into a pair of flat pumps. When she returned, conversation continued as if she'd never left. Damian gave her a soft, welcoming smile as she began eating the cooked chicken on her plate. His brothers and Cindy talked with her, joked, acting as if nothing had happened. As families went, they weren't bad.

After, she went with them to the courtyard. Etienne brought out a tray with wine and gla.s.ses as they settled around the wrought-iron table. Someone lit the wood sitting in the fire pit. Wind whipped the flame as the homey smell of smoke permeated the air.

She took Damian's hand as they strolled near the night-blooming jasmine beside a shed at the courtyard's far wall. He leaned down, brushed a soft kiss against her lips.

Her heart raced with antic.i.p.ation. She slipped her arms around his narrow waist, feeling power and tensile strength in his body.

Slowly he kissed her again, small, delicate kisses that stirred her hunger. Little kisses, teasing, coaxing her mouth to open. Jamie made a little moan against his lips.

"Damian?"

"Mmm," he said lazily, not stopping his kisses.

Jamie pulled free, blew into his ear, enjoying the shudder running through his powerful body. "I want you. Now."

Damian c.o.c.ked his head. "That's good." He gazed down at her, his eyes smoky with pa.s.sion. "That's very, very good."

He tugged her hand toward the shed, and whisked her inside. As he shut the door and leaned against it, she backed against a wood table stacked with bags of potting soil.

"They're right outside," she whispered.

"So you'll have to be very quiet." He advanced, his expression intent and determined.

Oh, he was wicked, and this was so naughty, it heated her blood as much as the sultry promise of hot s.e.x in his eyes.

The earthy smell inside the shed mingled with his rich, masculine scent of spices. Outside, laughter rang out in the courtyard. Jamie focused on Damian as he came forward. His mouth landed on hers, their tongues tangled in a desperate duet.

His hands pulled up her skirt, wrenched down her panties. Jamie pulled away, removed her underwear as he unzipped his trousers and yanked down his black silk boxers. His p.e.n.i.s jutted out, bobbing under its heavy weight. Her feminine core ached, empty and yearning for him to fill her.

She scooted up on the heavy table, legs spread open, wet and ready for him. Damian smiled wickedly, stepped between her thighs and leaned over her, bracing his hands on either side of her.

He entered her in a single deep thrust. She shuddered from the raw power as he clasped her hips. The smooth tactile sensation of his hard c.o.c.k rubbing against her sensitive inner tissues sent blood surging through her veins. Jamie swirled her hips, feeling his p.e.n.i.s jerk violently inside her. A long, sultry purr rippled from her open mouth. Damian softly moaned, his muscles locking.

"You are driving me fou, fou, female." He pulled back, then began thrusting faster.

Damian rode her hard, making the table rock. His body strained and slid over her. Their mingled, frantic breaths and the sounds of flesh slapping against hers thundered in the small enclosure. Jamie bit her lip to keep from crying out. The tension built higher and higher. Damian leaned down, kissed her mouth, feathered his lips over her cheek and then bit her neck. Sharp, erotic pain flooded her, then he chased it with a soothing swirl of his tongue.

As she began to climax, she reached up and bit his shoulder, latching her teeth onto the cashmere to m.u.f.fle her cries. He clenched his teeth, head thrown back, eyes closed and breath hammering out of his lungs. His p.e.n.i.s twitched violently as he came, Damian's jaw working back and forth in a silent roar. Draped across her body, he breathed in great, ragged pants, then kissed the side of her neck. He pulled out, arranged himself and zipped up, helping her back into her panties and rearranging her rumpled skirt.

His grin was filled with masculine pride as he touched the small bite mark on her neck. She read his thoughts. His mark, his mate.

Chapter 14.

P ride filled Damian as he studied his female after the loving, her hair mussed, her body limp with dazed pleasure as he helped her slide off the table. He pictured her at six, with cute pigtails tied with red ribbons, maybe a baseball cap to counter the girly-girl image. Jamie, hugging her cat, her gray eyes innocent and then clouding over with horror as her uncle took away her only friend. A deep growl rumbled from his chest. If the b.a.s.t.a.r.d wasn't dead, he'd hunt him down and serve him his a.s.s on a platter. With a sprig of parsley as garnish.

They left the shed discreetly, but Gabriel glanced up. He grinned, poked Etienne.

"Interesting place, that potting shed. More than flowers have been planted there," Etienne remarked, sliding a hand around Cindy's nape. She looked at him, blushed.

Damian tucked Jamie's hand into his, murmured an excuse about retiring. When they were inside, Jamie stopped and plucked at his sweater.

"It's not just s.e.x, is it? Or is it, because I'm the only one you can breed with? I feel like it's so much more, and it's a little scary."

Serious conversation time, when he only wanted to usher her upstairs, strip off all her clothing and start on certain parts of her body he'd neglected in the shed. Damian touched her cheek. Rea.s.surance might convince her to see his view. They'd forged a bond in the flesh, and connected telepathically. His family had welcomed her and surely she would accept and understand her role as his mate, and the need to stick close to his side.

He kept his thoughts guarded from Jamie, startled by the depth of his burgeoning emotions. Love was a double-edged sword that could swing back and hit him. He couldn't risk love. He was committed to his pack, his people, but always guarded his heart should something happen and he lost another.

He didn't want to love her. Love turned strong males weak and vulnerable, and made them weep at the suffering inflicted on innocent little girls with cruel uncles.

"It's not just s.e.x, ma pet.i.te. It's deeper, more real and lasting. Yes, I need an heir, but that can wait and it's not half as important to me as making you smile again. If I could, I'd take back all your past misery. All I can do is try to make it better for you and give you a new family who will treat you the way you deserve. You belong with my people now."

Hope s.h.i.+ning in her eyes turned to dismay. Damian recognized the stubborn tilt of her chin. He touched her mind and found a brick wall barricading her thoughts.

"It isn't just the s.e.x, it's the whole package, then? Not just you, but a horde of werewolves. I told you I don't do the group thing, especially not with a group of Draicon."

"We are your new family. My brothers, my parents and my pack in New Mexico are nothing like what you experienced in your family. They'll be everything your family was not, Jamie."

"Oh, they'll love me and make me feel like I'm one of you. I'm not and I'll never fit in. I'm a black sheep in a pack of wolves, and we both know what wolves do to sheep."

"Jamie, have my brothers ever made you feel anything but safe? You are one of us." He compressed his lips, roping in his impatience, needing her to see his point and finally accept him and his people. It was like trying to capture a beautiful, elusive dragonfly.

"I'll never be one of you," she whispered, putting a hand to her cheek. "Stop trying to make me into something I'm not. You can't hold on to me. Or stop this spell from spreading. It's beyond your control."

"I can and will." Anger flooded him. She had no faith in him, and a.s.sumed he'd let her down. His gaze fell to her hand and then he forgot his anger.

Damian picked up her wrist and held her fingernails up for inspection. "They're no longer gray. When did this happen?"

She wrinkled her brow. "I guess eating the meat helped. It doesn't matter. Everything we're doing is just a stopgap. I need the book, Damian, and we'd better find it, soon."

He stood staring after her as she trudged up the stairs. Normal fingernails. Something nagged at him about that. But he couldn't quite place it.

Inside the voodoo shop, Jamie fidgeted as she waited for Damian to pay at the cash register. They had found the final clue. The Napoleon statue had revealed it was in a painting featuring a wolf in the bayou. Alexandre had seen such a painting in the shop while searching the Quarter.

Damian clutched the framed painting covered with paper with one hand and with the other steered her outside. Dark clouds fat with raindrops scudded across the sky. Pedestrians brushed past, their cheerful expressions contrasting sharply with her misery.