Chapter Three
Anzysa.
He’d seen her, spoken to her, tasted her.
What a beautiful, stubborn ass woman was his mate, and he was a… douchecanoe.
She was his. Of that he was totally sure. The scent of her, the way she arched into his touch. They were going to be mindblowing in bed.
He’d woken up with a hard-on that regardless of how many times he’d tried to take care of it in the shower this morning, was still pressing against his zipper, straining to get out.
He refused to believe his cock was reacting to Portia’s presence, but he wasn’t the only walking hard-on at Seven Pines today. Portia’s allure must be back online after a night of safety and food. She had affected so many of his warriors now that he’d gotten Zon to organize a warrior tournament. Gris hated the idea, but he wasn’t as swayed by the allure as the rest of them. Winner got the chance to woo and feed the lovely Portia.
If and when she delivered Jett.
So far, she wasn’t having any luck.
Cage sat in the comfy chair next the sun lamp where he liked to hang out and read mystery novels. It was the only light on in the office and it still made Portia squint.
She paced back and forth behind his desk, yelling at the phone. Cajoling and pleading hadn’t done a thing so far to convince Jett to even come to Seven Pines, much less help Cage get to hell.
Little fucker.
Portia even turned her allure on Jett to no avail. Although, that last bit had several dragon warriors who were supposed to be guards knocking down the door. Gris was practically beating them all back with a stick.
Even her tears didn’t convince that bastard to come. What, like he had more important things to do, like chasing terrified women through the woods, or something?
She had him on speakerphone now and the little shit was being exactly that. A shit.
What he didn’t know was that Cage was no luddite. He used his money to invest in all kinds of tech companies. Including the kind that created and used clandestine ops and all the fun gadgets that went with it. He was tracing this call and a team of his warriors were already en route to capture the bastard. SEAL Team Six had nothing on his guys.
Then again the SEALs didn’t have to fight demon dragons on a daily basis, and couldn’t use the power of sunshine and wind, and they didn’t have wings, or tails or sharp spiky teeth.
His guys were ready to nab him. Portia keeping Jett on the line now was gravy.
“Any favors I owed you were repayed when I convinced Geshtianna not to send her asshole brother after you. You’re persona non-gratis in the demon community, I’m the only reason you’re not dead.”
Portia’s face dropped even further at those words. Her body language went from irritated to defeated, despondent.
Nice boyfriend she had there.
Cage had more than enough reasons to push Portia to the edge, but he wasn’t a total dick. Enough was enough. He hadn’t yet said a word, and had instructed her not to mention he was listening.
If Jett had been willing to help because Portia asked, Cage would have been fine with that, but really all he’d needed from her was the connection.
His tablet pinged with a message, perfect timing. He stood and crossed over to her, giving her a little chuck on the chin and a wink. “I’ll take it from here, pumpkin.”
She scowled at the pet name, and stuck out her tongue at him. But, there was relief in her eyes too. Whoever’s mate she was had their work cut out for them. Poor lucky bastard.
He tapped a few keys on his tablet, got the response he was looking for and waited a few moments for the sounds of his team taking Jett down.
Portia glanced at him, a flash of concern in her eyes, when they heard a scuffle, the distinctive sound of dragon fire, and then the line went dead.
A new call came through on his cell phone. He answered on speaker, so she could hear that her precious ex wasn’t harmed.
“We have him, sir. ETA one hour,” the team leader said.
“Good work. Try not to kill him in the next sixty-minutes.”
“Will do.”
Cage hung up just before Portia poked him in the chest.
“What did you need me for if you already knew where he was? He can’t be that far away if they’re bringing him back in within an hour.”
He pushed her hand away. “He’s a slippery little bastard. You were the perfect distraction.”
If looks could kill, Portia would be on trial for murdering a Wyvern. “I’m god damn tired of being used.”
“Then think of it as payback.”
She bit back her retort. Unusual for her. “Are you going to kill him?”
Concern? Was she thinking about how she could help Jett escape? The asshole had done quite a number on her. She seemed both angry and loyal to him at the same time. “Someday. But, first I need him to answer a few questions.”
“Can I be there?”
Would her allure work on Jett? That could be useful. “If you want to help me question him.”
“No. I mean when you kill him.”
She was bloodthirsty. At least that meant she wasn’t going to try to help him escape.
It was hard not to feel protective of Portia. Yes, she’d wronged him, but he fully understood she’d done it out of what she thought was love.
Not like he knew anything about that emotion. But, he did understand the deep-seated need for connection. He’d sought it with her. Only to be used, but still. He played a part in her story and she in his.
“I need him to get me into hell and back first.”
Portia raised an eyebrow. “I can’t believe you’re going to trust him.”
“I’m not. But, I don’t have another choice. He’ll get me down to Azynsa or every gold dragon from here to eternity will hunt him down.”
“It’s your ass.”
There were a lot more asses on the line that just his. “You’ve fulfilled your debt to me. You can leave if you want.”
“What? You said I could stay if I got Jett for you.”
“You can. My warriors are prepared to protect and provide for you as long as you need. They’re out on the training field battling for your favor as we speak.”
Portia glanced toward the covered window and frowned. “Don’t they all hate me for what I did to you?”
“Some do. But, it’s not in the gold dragon nature to hold a grudge. Besides, I believe the power of your allure is back. I still don’t feel it, but Gris and Zon have been beating the others back all morning. Which is why I asked them to organize the tournament.”
Portia pulled the letter opener from the back of her pants and set the tip, which had been sharpened, directly over his heart. “So, you’re just giving me to the winner?”
The door to the office swung open and Gris stared long and hard at Portia’s defensive stance before saying anything. The man had a sixth sense when it came to this woman. “Sir?”
“Good timing.” Cage used the distraction to disarm Portia. “The team has the rogue and are on their way back in. Please escort our guest to wherever she chooses to go and inform the warriors the tournament is off. She doesn’t not wish to…utilize their services.”
Gris nodded, but not at Cage. Was that relief on his face? Couldn’t blame him. Baby-sitting wasn’t exactly in his job description.
Portia looked between the two of them. “I didn’t say that. They can fight for me or whatever.”
Gris growled quiet and low. “It’s your choice, succubus.”
Maybe Gris wasn’t the right dragon to watch over Portia in Cage’s absence. He had some serious hate going on for her. Zon might be better for this particular chore.
One more thing to add to his to do list for the next few hours as he prepared to go to Africa. If he was going to trust Gris to take over the Wyr, it was now or never.
“I’ve got a lot to do before I leave tonight. You two work it out. I’ve got my guide and one way or another, will be in hell by tonight.”
Gris glared at Portia to hide his concern, unsuccessfully, but he tried. “Yes, sir.”
The two left biting at each other with words and growls and glares. They were either going to kill each other or end up in bed together.
Within the hour his team had Jett wrestled into the red dragon’s guest suite, and chained to the wall. Yes, the red dragons were kinky bastards. That particular attribute was about to come in handy.
Cage cleared the room when he entered, of course, under protest from the team. But, Jett wasn’t going anywhere. Those chains had been forged by the First Dragon himself. No one man, or dragon, could escape them.
He propped himself against the edge of the bed, crossing his legs as if this was a conversation about the weather, not his mate and every gold mate’s life out there.
“What will it take, rogue?”
Jett didn’t struggle against the chains. He did watch and wait. “I wondered when you’d quit hiding behind Portia’s skirts, as nice as the view of her plump ass is, it’s a wonder you came out at all.”
Maybe he should have brought Portia in to torture this asshole a bit.
“Yes, something we can agree on. You used her, she used me, now I get to use you.”
A puff of smoke drifted up from Jett’s nose. “What is you actually want, gold?”
“For you to name your price. Everyone has one.”
“You can’t afford what I want.”
“Try me.”
Jett was silent, but not because he didn’t want anything. Cage could practically see the cogs turning in his mind.
It was well known that Cage was the wealthiest dragon in the world. When one’s family had been collecting fine things and building wealth like greedy bastards for centuries, one had some cash to spare on bribing people to do what they wanted.
He was prepared to give up his entire fortune if it meant he could rescue Anzysa and make it possible for the gold dragons to get their mates.
“There is something I want, but I’m not prepared to reveal the details to you.”
Then it wasn’t money. When he and Portia had been together, Jett had been after a soul shard. Well, Cage didn’t have one of those to give.
“What do you suggest then?”
“I want a future favor. To be named and delivered upon my request.”
Whatever it was this black dragon wanted from him would hurt, or he’d simply say what it was now. It was a negotiating tactic Cage understood well. There wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it because he would do whatever Jett needed. “As long as it does no harm to my mate, or any dragon’s mate for that matter, you may have your favor. But, I will not fulfill it or let you go until you give me what I want.”
“You dragons have me now, but I will not ever give up my freedom. What do you want from me?”
That was all the in Cage needed.
“Not much, all I need is a guide.”
“Where – ah. You’re going to hell.”
In more ways than one. The rogue may be trouble, but he wasn’t stupid.
“You should have said. Anything that will give let me make Kur-Jara’s life hard, I’m down for. But, now you owe me a favor and I intend to cash it in, dragon.”
Fuck a lucky duck.
“I will honor my debt, but only upon Azynsa’s safe return to Seven Pines.”
With or without him. Cage would make arrangements with Gris to get Jett whatever he asked for in case he didn’t make it back himself.
“Out of the caldera. I’m not hiring on to be her nurse maid once she’s out. I’ve got other business to take care of.”
“Fine.” He wasn’t discussing semantics. “We will transport you to Africa, tonight.”
That gave him enough time to get Gris up to speed on all of the plans, including what to do in case he didn’t make it, and fly down to Western Africa. Not on his own wings, but he had a back-up.
“I don’t need your commandos to take me anywhere. I’ll honor my word. This arrangement benefits me as much as you. Find me tonight at Candy’s, not far from the Malabo airport.”
“Who’s Candy? Your new stripper girlfriend?”
“It’s an Irish pub.” Cage could practically here the fuck-off in Jett’s reply.
The fates, or the White Witch had known what they were doing, he had to trust in that. Because what else did he have now that his dragon was lost.
“Tonight then.” Cage didn’t wait for Jett to agree. He had a few short hours to make final preparations in case of his death and do everything he could think of to mentally and physically prepare for the upcoming battle.
Gris and Zon could take care of getting Jett released and put a tail on him to Malabo.
Cage took care of his Wyvern business and left for the airfield before dusk. On his way, felt a pull toward one of his lairs. Cage rarely visited his this one even though it was the closest, partly because he preferred to have most of his treasure right out in the open.
Seven Pines was filled with antiquities and high-end modern design. He also had some stashed in a monastery high in the mountains of Nepal, where the air was so thin that it felt like he was in the sky. But, like any smart wyvern he had his hoard divided into several locations just in case any of them were compromised. That didn't happen very often, but Jacob's lair under his villa in the Czech Republic had been discovered by demon dragons not that long ago.
Cage drove into the Danish countryside until he reached a hilly area. He hated being underground so the cave hidden in the brush at the top of the hill was a good compromise. He'd spent years here as a child, secreting away his favorite treasures and carving out the rock to let slivers of sunshine into the cave. This had been his secret hideout, the place he went to practice shifting into his dragon form as a youngling. There was an old magic in these hills that had drawn him to it and helped him master his shifting skills.
It was almost uncomfortable to come here now knowing that he had lost the majority of that hard work, but something had him here and his gut told him to listen. Perhaps there was armor or a weapon hidden in this lair that might be able to help him survive on this quest.
He hiked up into the hills for a good hour, feeling the wards that had been placed to deter humans and other paranormal beings alike from finding his cave.
To him they were nothing more than little zips of electricity, but to anyone snooping they would get a sense of dread or fear from being here. The closer he got, the more the magic swelled. Oh yeah, whatever was pulling him really wanted to make sure he didn't leave without finding it.
Cage stepped through a layer of creeping vines that covered the cave entrance and into the darkness. He called upon the light of the sun and a glowing orb formed in his hand and lit his way. He walked past suits of armor, chests filled with gold, and ancient weapons that wouldn't do him any good if he came face-to-face with the Black Dragon, like swords. It didn't take him long to find what had been calling to him. Tucked back onto a natural shelf along the cave wall a golden hand mirror glowed in the darkness.
He vaguely remembered being attracted to the object. It was very old and the handle was decorated in jewels and carvings of scales that rippled as he touched it. He’d always imagined it had been a present from a dragon to his mate.
Great.
What was he supposed to do with a mirror?
For a fraction of a second, he thought he saw a face in the reflection that was not his own. It was gone before he could blink.
Okay, fine. Maybe the universe was looking out for him by making sure he had a gift for Azynsa.
Cage wrapped the mirror in a scrap from an old tapestry and pocketed it. It felt warm against his thigh.
He returned to his car and raced to the small private airfield, wanting to get in the air as soon as possible.
This was no average airport. The hangers were filled with vintage airplanes, mostly from World War II. The shack that served as the radio tower was filled with vintage flyers to. Mostly veterans of the past few wars.
Cage liked to flaunt his money, but he also used it for good causes. The majority of the men who hung around here had been severely injured in the line of duty and were forced to give up flying for their countries.
Cage started a little organization to allow these vets to fly. He understood their need to be in the air more now than ever before.
His father had balked when he’d first wanted gold dragons to learn to fly airplanes when they began to appear at the beginning of the twentieth century.
He’d realized humans were in the air to stay and defied his father by joining up with the RAF during the second world war. His compatriots had treated him like a young whipper-snapper, or so they’d called him. To them he was only about eighteen back then, even though at the start of the war he’d been exactly one-hundred years old.
They’d given him his due when they saw how naturally he commanded his plane through the air. He’d taken to airplanes like a duck in the sky.
Since then, a handful of other gold dragons of his generation had become pilots in every military with flyers in the world. The ones who’d served their time rotated through on assignment to staff this place and make sure the planes and the pilots got in and out of the air safely.
Cage had a lot of other charities he supported, but this was the one he liked hanging out at the most.
He called ahead and had one of his more modern little turboprops fueled and ready for the flight to Malabo. There was only time for a super quick check in with his dragons who confirmed he was set and ready to go, his plane, the only one cleared for take-off.
There were lots of vets hanging around today and he hated to ground them but, just today, his flight needed to take priority.
One of his vets stood next to his plane, examining the props. He still had the build of a warrior, even despite the prosthetic arm. Cage could tell this man had stories he’d like to hear. If he made it back, this guy would be the first one he’d seek out to go flying with. Today, he’d have to ask him to return to the hangar.
“Excuse me, sir.”
Sparkling eyes that had so many facets in them Cage couldn’t tell what color they were stared across at him. “I wondered when you’d finally show up. Taking your sweet time getting in the air.”
“Yeah, I had to stop—” How did this strange old guy know anything about Cage’s itinerary?
“Son, let me tell you a thing or two about independent women.”
First, he'd chided Cage about taking his time, now he wanted to chat about women? Just who was this? No ordinary aging veteran, that was for sure.
“As you stated, sir, I need to get in the air ASAP.”
“You can bluster and blow, plead and persuade them all you want, but once they've made up their mind about something, well you just better go with it, because there's no changing it. Remember that, will you?”
A banked power unlike anything Cage had experienced rolled out with every word the man said. He had no idea who this old-timer was, but there was no mistake about the feeling of awe and deference.
“Okay. I'll keep that in mind.”
“Take my sugar lips, for instance. She hates it when I call her that, but damn her kisses are so sweet.” The man chuckled and slapped Cage on the shoulder. “She's got a mind that she can do something about the troubles in this world. I thought we'd given that all of years ago. But, here I am smack dab in the middle of her matchmaking schemes.”
Matchmaking?
“Now, don't get me wrong, I'd like to see you boys all find your mates. It's a damn shame your fathers couldn't figure out how to combat that spell. Had we known that bitch was going to get involved, we might not have left.”
A shiver rolled down the back of Cage's neck and all the hairs on his body stood on end.
“But, we had to protect our girl. You understand that, don't you?” The man looked at Cage and must have seen the shock in his eyes. Or maybe it was the fact that his jaw was hanging open wide enough for a fly, or a dragon, or a dragonfly to swoop in. “No, I can see that you don’t. You will though when your own show up.”
His own? Really important information was being discussed in this conversation, but damn if Cage had an idea what any of it meant.
A woman, who looked to be about the same age as the cryptic veteran crossed the tarmac and wrapped her arms around him. She wore flowing white pants with a crisp pleat down the front, an aviator’s jacket that was usually brown with white wool, but hers was pure as snow, and a long flowing silk aviator’s scarf.
“Did you give him the sword?”
“I was just getting to that, sugar lips. We had some mate stuff to discuss first.”
“Oh God. Did he give you the dozen orgasms speech?”
Cage’s vision wavered. The two figures before him shimmered like mirages. He thought he shook his head, but he really wasn’t sure.
“Hey, that’s good advice for any young dragon about to become a mate. You certainly liked it when we first mated.”
She leaned in and whispered something in the man’s ear that had his eyes going wide.
“Okay, son. Gotta go. Places to go, people to see, orgasms to be given.” He shoved a shining golden sword into Cage’s hands. “Here’s your blade. Don’t be giving it to any Annunaki, even if they ask for it.”
The woman took her scarf off and wrapped it around his neck. “We can’t come down and help this time. The Galla demons won’t be fooled again, but Ninshubar will be waiting when you get out.”
The couple faded right before his eyes and when he blinked, they were gone.
“Oh, did you tell him about…”
“Damn, forgot. Be right back.”
The man popped up in front of Cage again. “Listen, when you’ve got your head between her legs try—”
“No, not that,” a disembodied voice chastised.
“Hmm. What? Oh, right. The power is when the two become one.” He disappeared again.
Cage was left standing next to his plane holding a sword. What the hell was he supposed to do with a sword and a mirror?