Wildfire Sea Dragon (Fire & Rescue Shifters: Wildfire Crew Book 3) Read online

  “No, I know that’s what we were trying—I mean, I can actually sense him, my lord!” Seven rotated on the spot, grasping for that tenuous thread. “He’s close…this way!”

  She plunged down a side-street without waiting for a response. Her beast seemed as eager to follow the trail as she was, pulling her onward with mindless determination. She’d never before felt so close to her animal, not even when wearing its form. An aching, maddening hunger hollowed her guts. She needed this prey, to catch him, taste him, claim him…

  Okay, that’s enough. Alarmed, Seven hauled her animal back. It fought her even harder than before, thrashing in the net of her willpower. For a heart-stopping second, she wasn’t sure she could hold it.

  The bright, maddening flavors in the air faded as she regained control. It was like having a weighted blanket dropped over her head. She blinked, feeling muffled and confused, struggling to make sense of the world through merely human senses.

  “The Prince is here?” Lord Azure said, sounding distinctly dubious.

  Blurs of color resolved back into recognizable objects. Seven found herself squinting up at a flashing neon sign depicting a winking cat rubbing up against a…chicken?

  “I think it’s a nightclub,” she said, not entirely sure herself.

  Lord Azure sniffed. “It is a hovel. But what can one expect of humans? Wait here, Seventh Novice. You are just a squire, but they cannot deny my right to enter.”

  It took Seven a second to work out the misunderstanding, by which point Lord Azure was already storming down the street. She pelted after him, dodging a giggling, stumbling hen party. “No, Lord Azure, wait! Not a club for knights!”

  The bouncer lounging by the club’s door did a double-take at the six-foot-nine fully armored figure bearing down on him. A brief moment of pained calculation flickered over his face—am I being paid enough for this? Apparently he was, as the man straightened.

  “Hold it, Jon Snow.” The bouncer barred the sea dragon’s way. “Security check.”

  Lord Azure drew himself up to his full height, regarding the smaller man coldly. “I do not know this ‘Jon Snow’ of whom you speak. You have the honor of addressing—”

  “Aragorn,” Seven panted, grabbing Lord Azure’s arm. It was impossible to squeeze it in warning through the plate mail, but fortunately the flagrant breach of etiquette appeared to have stunned him into outraged speechlessness. “From The Lord of the Rings. Sorry, he takes his cosplay very seriously. Hates being misidentified. Can we come in?”

  With the expression of a man who was regretting all his life’s decisions, the bouncer produced a metal detector. “Can you pass a security check?”

  Seven looked at the metal detector. She looked at Lord Azure.

  The sea dragon knight glowered at them both. “I fail to see the problem. I am extremely secure. Carry out your check, if that is your duty, small human male. And be quick about it.”

  With a shrug, the bouncer waved the device over Seven. It let out a few hiccups over the studded rivets of her stingray-leather armor, but was otherwise silent. For once she was grateful that as a squire she wasn’t permitted to carry a real blade. Her stunsword was made from coral and pearl, so didn’t register as a weapon to the metal detector.

  Evidently the bouncer didn’t recognize it as a weapon either, as he waved her aside without comment. The instant he turned the metal detector in Lord Azure’s direction, the machine let out a shriek like a howler monkey being fed into a car wash. Seven was only surprised it didn’t actually burst into flame.

  “Next time, try wearing pants that don’t clank, buddy.” The bouncer holstered his metal detector. He jerked his chin at Seven. “You can go in as you are, but Spartacus here is going to have to strip down.”

  Lord Azure’s broad shoulders bunched ominously. “I am a Knight of the Order of the First Water, oath-bound and honor-sworn to complete my mission or die in the attempt. The Pearl Empress herself entrusted me with this duty. Do you truly wish to stand in my way?”

  The bouncer’s brow furrowed. “I don’t remember any Pearl Empress in The Lord of the Rings.”

  “One of the lesser-known appendices,” Seven said, grabbing Lord Azure’s arm again before he got them arrested, shot, or both. “My lord, may I beg your indulgence for a moment?”

  Lord Azure grumbled something under his breath in sea dragon but allowed Seven to drag him away a few steps. “If I but had my blade, I would challenge that sea slug to a duel for his impudence.”

  “Alas, my lord, we do not have the time to retrieve your weapon from our hotel.” Seven was very grateful that even Lord Azure had been forced to accept that it was not possible to carry an enormous golden broadsword through the streets of a human city without attracting unhealthy amounts of attention. They’d had more than one police cruiser slow to a crawl as it went past them as it was.

  “Please, my lord,” she said. “Let me go in alone. Your skills and expertise would be wasted in such a menial task.”

  Lord Azure started to make a retort, then hesitated. His gaze went from her to the nightclub and back again.

  “The Imperial Champion did promise the…honor of guarding the Prince to the first warrior who found him,” he said slowly.

  He had indeed. It was possibly less of an incentive than the Imperial Champion had intended. Seven had a sneaking suspicion that the other knights were searching the rest of the city very, very slowly.

  Lord Azure was evidently having much the same thought. “Very well. Seventh Novice, it seems fate that this quest falls to you.”

  “A quest?” Her heart gave a great leap. “My lord, you would consider this a formal quest? Sufficient to qualify me for knighthood at last?”

  Lord Azure blew out his breath. “I cannot deny that dragging the wayward Prince away from this den of vice and back to his duty would indeed be a great feat. Perhaps one difficult to write a heroic ballad about, but a feat nonetheless.” He paused, studying her. “You realize that should you accept, you will have to go with the Prince. Guard his life with your own, as he performs his duties on his fire crew. You will be far from the sea, landlocked, surrounded by dangers unknown.”

  Her pulse thrummed with excitement. Like the rest of Atlantis, she’d heard rumors about the perils that the Prince’s firefighting crew had faced last year. Demonic creatures, foes worthy to test the strongest knight…

  If she saved the Prince from something like that, no one would doubt her honor or abilities ever again.

  She adopted a formal attitude of humble beseeching, dropping to one knee. “Please, my lord. I am not afraid. Honor me with this quest, I beg you.”

  Lord Azure gave her a long, considering look. Then he nodded. “Very well, Seventh Novice. If you can convince the Prince to accept you into his service, you may consider this your quest. Protect him well, and you shall be a Knight of the First Water.”

  Seven saluted, fist to heart. “Thank you, my lord. I shall not fail you.”

  Lord Azure narrowed his eyes at her. “Behave with utter decorum, Seventh Novice. Remember that no matter how he may act, the Crown Prince is of the blood royal, and our future Emperor. I am trusting you to act as my right hand. Do anything to shame me, and I shall strike you off without hesitation.”

  Seven was certain that Lord Azure would cut off his own literal right hand if he decided it had offended his honor. She hid the flutter of nerves in her stomach with another deep bow, then hastened back to the bouncer before Lord Azure could give her any more motivational pep talks.

  The cover charge turned out to be eye-watering. Seven reluctantly peeled twenties from her rapidly diminishing roll of bills, all of which had come from her personal bank account. Money, like so many things, was an unknown concept to Lord Azure.

  Oh well. It’s not as if I ever planned to live on land again. Nonetheless, Seven couldn’t suppress a pang as her hard-earned money disappeared into the bouncer’s pocket. In her previous life, that would have fed her and her mother f
or the better part of a month.

  Of course, that was mere spare change to the Crown Prince, born to inherit all the treasures of the sea. She’d always tried to ignore undersea gossip, but it was impossible to live in Atlantis without hearing about the Prince’s extravagant exploits.

  He must go through money almost as fast as he goes through women, Seven thought sourly as the bouncer held the door open for her. Born with everything, knows the value of nothing.

  Stepping into the club was like getting hit by a tidal wave. Glaring, whirling lights and harsh, thudding bass overwhelmed her sensitive shifter senses, leaving her deafened and blinded.

  She sucked in a gasp of air—which was a mistake. Lust and sweat and frustration and glee...the heady cocktail of hormones spiked straight to the deepest, most primitive parts of her brain. Her inner beast surged, mouth gaping wide.

  For a moment, it was all Seven could do not to turn and flee straight back into the night. Only the thought of her quest kept her feet rooted in place. She scrunched her eyes closed, fighting her animal instincts while the pulsing music shook her bones like a dog.

  How can the Prince stand this? Why would any shifter come to such an awful place?

  “Welcome to Cock and Pussy!” said a professionally bright, cheerful voice.

  With heroic effort, Seven forced her eyes open, and found herself staring at a pair of nipples.

  They had tassels on them.

  Pink ones.

  Now Seven understood why the Prince frequented this particular establishment.

  “You look a little lost,” said the owner of the nipples. “I’m Carole, and I’ll be your hostess for the evening. Would you like me to show you around?”

  “Uh…” With some difficulty—how are those stuck on?—Seven managed to wrench her gaze upward. “I’m, uh, I’m…looking for someone.”

  Carole quirked an eyebrow. “Well, we pride ourselves on catering to all tastes here. What kind of ‘someone’ did you have in mind?”

  “No! I mean I’m looking for a man. A specific man.” Seven stretched one hand above her head as high as she could reach. “About six foot eight? Dark brown skin, turquoise eyes, black hair with blue highlights?”

  The hostess’s glossy smile cracked for a moment, revealing a flash of true interest. “He said he was waiting for someone. Is that you?”

  Surely the Pearl Empress must have sent at least a few texts to her errant son before dispatching armed warriors. “Yes,” Seven said, trying to sound confident. “He’s expecting me.”

  “Huh.” Carole’s gaze swept over Seven’s armor. “Gotta say, you’re not what I was expecting. Well, well, well. Follow me, hon. I’ll take you to him.”

  A nearby woman, who must have been eavesdropping, barred the hostess’s way. She wasn’t the sort of person Seven would have expected to see at a tacky strip joint. From her Manolo Blahnik shoes to the black cocktail dress clinging to her curves, everything about her discretely murmured money and class. A long, scarlet silk scarf wound around her long, elegant throat. She wore a second, matching scarf as a head wrap, pulled low over her forehead. A lush mane of midnight hair tumbled down her back.

  “Excuse me, but I couldn’t help overhearing,” the woman said to Carole, not sounding at all apologetic. Even Lord Azure would have envied her aristocratic hauteur. Her hard, light brown eyes flicked to Seven. “I was here first.”

  “I’m sorry, ma’am,” Carole said, in sweet tones that carried a distinct undercurrent of screw you, bitch. “I’ll get to you as soon as I can, and do my best to make sure you leave satisfied. Please, enjoy another drink in the meantime. On the house.”

  Seven found herself dragged onward, Carole’s arm firmly wound through hers. She could feel the scarf-wearing woman’s stare through the back of her armor.

  “Gah. There’s always one creep,” Carole muttered. She patted Seven’s hand, releasing her again. “Sorry about that, hon. This way.”

  Seven followed, trying hard to ignore her surroundings. She wasn’t a prude, exactly, but chastity was one of the Seven Knightly Virtues. These days it wasn’t as strictly enforced as it had once been—even the most hidebound traditionalists like Lord Azure had grudgingly accepted the exception for knights who found their true mates—but lewd behavior was still considered deeply dishonorable.

  Honor did not appear to be uppermost on anyone’s mind here.

  Courage, courtesy, compassion, chastity, charity, constancy, candor. Seven mentally chanted the Seven Knightly Virtues in her head as Carole’s swinging hips led her through the club. Get the Prince, get him to Montana, and try to forget this ever happened.

  The club was busier than Seven would have expected from the entrance fee. She had to force her way through packs of hooting, inebriated men—and a surprising number of women—crowded around the base of a long, elevated glass stage. Seven kept her gaze grimly fixed on the back of Carole’s head, trying very hard not to look up. Even so, she couldn’t help being aware that there was a lot of…gyrating going on.

  Her opinion of the Prince, which had not been high to start with, sank to new depths. Bad enough that he—from all accounts—changed partners as frequently as most people changed their underwear. It was one thing to indiscriminately oblige any woman who had a hankering to handle his crown jewels. It was quite another to pay to ogle dancers who were no doubt just counting down the minutes until they could get out of their torturous high heels and into a pair of comfy slippers.

  Doesn’t he have enough women throwing themselves at him? Seven thought irritably as she dodged yet another marauding pack of bros too distracted by the heavenly bodies above to pay any attention to where they were going.

  Carole guided her out of the packed bar to a long corridor flanked by closed doors. Some were painted with sinuous, winking cats, while others were decorated with strutting chickens.

  Not chickens. Seven bit back a groan as she got the pun at last. Cockerels. And pussycats. Kill me now.

  “He’s right through there,” the hostess said, indicating one of the rooster doors. “Private room number four.”

  Wonderful. Not only did the Prince apparently have a taste for both strippers and terrible puns, he spent so much time here he had his own room. He probably had a loyalty card too.

  Seven raised a hand to knock, then hesitated. “He’s not, ah, got anyone in there at the moment, has he?”

  “He’s all yours, hon.” The hostess lowered her voice, leaning forward. “Listen, sorry if this is sticking my nose where it isn’t wanted, but I’ve gotten to know that hot mess of a man pretty well over the last few months. And whatever’s going on between you two, you look far too serious for it to end well. You want my advice? Forget about him. Turn around and walk right back out the front door. Whatever you’re hoping to get from him, you won’t. He’s not the kind of guy to pin your heart on.”

  “I have no intention of doing that,” Seven said stiffly. “And I need to see him.”

  “Not my circus, not my monkeys,” Carole muttered under her breath. With another shrug, the hostess turned away. “Well, I hope you find what you want, hon.”

  What Seven wanted, more than anything, was to be back under the ocean in the quiet, dignified streets of Atlantis. But she had her quest. Steeling herself, she knocked on the door.

  “Come in,” called a man’s voice.

  Chapter 3

  It was worse than he’d ever imagined.

  Joe had thought himself prepared. He’d seen her countless times before, after all—in visions, in dreams.

  But nothing compared to seeing her.

  In the tawdry darkness of the strip club, she gleamed like a sword blade. Built in strong, straight lines; hard and elegant, compact and deadly. A single glimpse, and he was pierced to the heart.

  She, on the other hand, looked like she was wishing her armor was a whole lot thicker, and possibly had an antibacterial coating.

  Showtime.

  He touched his sunglasses, making sure
that they were secure. As long as she couldn’t see his eyes, she wouldn’t know that he was her mate.

  He adopted a casual, careless tone. “Come in. I promise I don’t bite.” He let his mouth stretch in an arrogant smirk. “Not unless you want me to, that is.”

  Her cheeks flushed. She was unusually pale for a sea dragon, with creamy skin and long, steel-grey hair pulled back in dozens of thin braids. Either she had mixed human blood in her ancestry, or she hailed from one of the reclusive, isolated Arctic tribes. Given her painfully traditional outfit and general aura of utter dismay at her surroundings, he assumed the latter. There was no way she’d ever spent more than a handful of days away from the sea. If this wasn’t the first time she’d ventured into a human city, he’d eat his turn out gear.

  Good. She was sea dragon to the bone, just as he’d seen her in his visions. That would make it easier to horrify her.

  He leaned back against the gold-upholstered chaise lounge, striving to be every inch the decadent playboy. “I said, come in. And close the door behind you. I think this should be a very private audience.”

  She obeyed with clear reluctance, stepping through the doorway as though expecting the crimson carpet to lunge up and grab her. Her gaze flicked over the small room, taking in everything from the zebra-print wallpaper to the velvet swags covering the high ceiling. Her armor-plated shoulders twitched as though restraining a shudder.

  “Hey, don’t blame me.” The words slipped out, not part of his pre-planned speech. “I didn’t choose the decor.”

  She glanced at the prominent stripper’s pole and visibly winced. She turned to him, spine straightening even further. Like most Arctic sea dragons, she was short—the top of her head would barely have reached his shoulder if he’d been standing up. Yet she carried herself with such poise she seemed to fill the room.

  “Crown Prince of Atlantis.” To his surprise, she spoke in English rather than sea dragon. “Heir to the Pearl Throne, Emperor-in-”