Zanaikeyros - Son of Dragons (Pantheon of Dragons #1)(10)

The corners of his mouth turned up in a parody of a smile, but it didn’t reflect any mirth. In fact, the gesture was curiously sad. “Ah, my sweet, sweet angel. You are trying so hard to alter something that is older than time, something so much bigger than you or I. Indeed, we must come to an understanding…very soon. There is much we need to work out.” He lowered his hand and absently brushed the backs of his knuckles over her lower belly, rotating the digits in a slow, methodical circle, and she thought she might just die of fright.

“Please,” she whispered, her knees nearly knocking together. “Don’t.”

He took a slow, careful step back. “I cannot do this right now, my dragyra. It is less than two hours from midnight.” He scrubbed his hand over his face and then glanced around the garage, almost as if he were at a loss as to what to do next. “Alas, I would like you to go home and wait for me.”

Jordan stifled a nervous chuckle, even as a small spark of hope ignited in her heart: If, in that moment, a little pink pig had flown by the windshield and oinked, Jordan would not have been a bit surprised. This terrifying, insane man wanted her to go home and wait for him.

Yeah, because that was really going to happen.

Still, this might be her only opportunity to get away.

She nodded her head and forced a hospitable smile. “Absolutely. I can do that. If that’s what you think is best, for us to talk later, I think that sounds reasonable.” She held her breath and prayed.

He chuckled, deep in his throat, the sound a cross between a snicker and a growl. “Mm, you are a lawyer, aren’t you? As clever as you are sweet. As determined as you are beautiful.” He cupped her cheeks in his hands, let out a long, drawn-out sigh, and bored his faint golden pupils into hers. “Look at me,” he commanded her again, only this time, his voice was as pure as the driven snow, as dark as the endless night, and as compelling as a hypnotic tone. “Tell me where you live.”

She couldn’t believe her ears.

Was he crazy?

She had to stifle a nervous titter at the absurdity of the question; and then her eyes grew wide, her lips began to tremble, and she had to bite down on her tongue to keep from doing exactly what he’d asked—she was about to give him her address!

Her real address.

What the hell?

She quickly thought of a viable alternative before her tongue could betray her, the address of her ex-lover and the assistant district attorney, Dan Summers. “My address is 591 Elkhurst Lane. It’s in Pine Hills.”

He nodded. “You will wait for me, then? You will do as I bid?”

Her head felt cloudy; her stomach turned over in small little waves; and she felt like she was falling into his eyes. She nodded. “Yes. I will. I promise.” Her mind was sorting a dozen thoughts per second—reminding her to call Dan and let him know she had given this predator his address; calculating just how quickly her ex could set up a sting; and wondering what it would feel like to know that this man had been apprehended…in the case that he showed up at Dan’s.

She reined in her random, racing thoughts, lest she get too far ahead of herself. “I will,” she repeated, waiting…

Hoping.

Praying that he would just walk away.

He stared at her for what felt like a millennium, and then he cocked his head to the side and frowned. “You are not easily enthralled,” he said. “That’s amazing.” He folded his hands together as if considering other options. “Very well, then I will find you, instead.”

She nodded. “Of course.” Whatever. Just so long as he let her go, right now.

He took her hand in his and raised it to his lips, like he was planning to kiss her knuckles in some old-world, seductive gesture, and then he rotated her arm, instead, exposed her wrist to his mouth, and bit her right in the center of her radial artery.

She gasped at the pain.

Hell’s bells, it felt like the man had fangs!

As he took several deep, dragging pulls from her vein, Jordan staggered in place. Her arm grew unbearably cold; frost began to settle on her skin; and for the first time that night, she began to wonder if she would make it out of this alive. She choked out a muffled sob and grimaced.

Who was he?

What was he?

And why was he doing this?

He moaned, as if in great pleasure, and then he slowly withdrew his fangs, blew warm air over the wound, and watched as a thin, bluish flame healed the lesions.

Jordan hiccupped, but she was well beyond speaking.

When his eyes met hers once more, they were infused with light, and the sapphire irises were glowing amber. Rising to his full, intimidating height, he drew back his lips and snarled.

The man actually snarled.

“Know this, Jordan Anderson: If you contact your lover, Dan, I will rip out his throat with my teeth and spit out his spine at your feet. If you run, I will retrieve you. If you continue to lie to me, you will make this far more difficult than it has to be. Who am I? I am Zanaikeyros Saphyrius, but my brothers call me Zane. What am I? I am the son of a dragon, consecrated to the lair of Sapphire, born to the sacred pantheon; and you are my dragyra, my fated. Mine. And I am doing this because I must. And you must.”

Sensing her rising terror, he took a judicious step back and sighed, his voice returning to its normal silken purr. “Jordan,” he cajoled, “I will not die in order to appease you, but know this: I will not harm you, either. I will never harm you. I am sorry this is all I can share right now, but all will be explained to you soon.”