Page 7 of Red Fury (The Dragon Tributes #8)

S hadow

I stare at my reflection in the ladies’ room mirror as I wash my hands. Then I turn and yawn into my hand. I look like shit, which is no surprise because it’s been a long day. The dinner meeting finally ended twenty minutes ago, and Secretary Harrison dismissed me for the evening.

Even though it would have been better for me to hang around, because everyone knows that plenty of business takes place after hours over whiskey and cigars, I’m still grateful for the reprieve.

If I had to sit through one more minute of strategic discussions about “enhanced security protocols,” I might have lost my mind completely. Or worse, I might have shifted right there at the table and torched the entire restaurant.

The truce I’ve struck up with the Red isn’t supported by the Council.

Big surprise! Not. I tried to convince them that he could help me, but it didn’t work.

I finally told them that I couldn’t very well kill him, it might come back to me and blow my cover.

My instructions were to orchestrate an “accident” and sooner rather than later.

I reluctantly agreed. What choice did I have?

The pressure is mounting.

It doesn’t help that my dragon has been clawing at the inside of my skin all day, restless and agitated in a way that’s becoming harder to ignore. It’s been weeks since my last shift, and I have another full week before I’m scheduled to return to Draig Island. I’m not sure I can make it that long.

I need a drink. Several drinks. Hopefully, that will take the edge off. I’ll worry about the Red and my mission some more tomorrow. Right now, I’m in need of some downtime.

I touch up my lipstick and smooth down my dress. The hotel bar would be convenient, but the last thing I need is to run into one of the many team members who are staying there, including the likes of Jake Reynolds. I’m in no mood.

There’s an upmarket place just a few blocks up from our hotel that I spotted earlier when we arrived. I walk there. It doesn’t take me long.

The bar is exactly what I hoped for; it’s dimly lit, sophisticated, and busy enough so that I can blend into the crowd. I claim a small table in the corner, far from the main entrance, and order a dirty martini.

“Make it a double,” I tell the bartender.

My dragon settles slightly as the first sip of gin hits my system, but she’s still there, pacing like a caged animal. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, trying to center myself the way I was taught at the Academy.

“Excuse me, beautiful.”

My eyes snap open to find a man in an expensive suit standing beside my table. He’s probably in his thirties, conventionally attractive with perfectly styled blond hair and a smile that he clearly thinks is charming.

Great.

I take a big gulp of my drink, and it burns down my throat just enough to keep me from tearing his head off with my bare hands.

No shift required.

“I couldn’t help but notice you sitting here all alone,” he continues, not waiting for an invitation to speak. “I’m Brad. I would love to buy you a drink.”

“That’s very kind, but I already have one.” I hold up my glass before taking another sip.

“You’ve already finished half. I like a girl who can handle her alcohol. Let me buy you another.” He smiles. “Come on, gorgeous. You can tell me all about yourself.”

I’d rather poke my eyes out.

“I’m fine on my own. Thank you.” I keep my voice polite but firm.

“Come on, don’t be like that. It’s Thursday night in New York. You shouldn’t be drinking alone.”

“I prefer it that way.”

He doesn’t take the hint, sliding into the chair across from me uninvited. “You know what they say about all work and no play…”

I fix him with a stare that has made grown shifter males cry.

“I’ve been polite, but my patience is wearing thin.

Open your ears, I’m not interested. Not now and not ever.

I want to drink alone…and in peace. Please go away, before I get mad,” I whisper the last under my breath, but my tone is clear.

To his credit, Brad at least has the sense to recognize danger when he sees it. He holds up his hands, then gets up and backs away. “Okay, okay. No need to get hostile. Just trying to be friendly.”

Friendly, my ass.

He’s a jerk.

I watch him retreat to the bar, then drain the rest of my martini in one long pull. The alcohol burns, but it’s a welcome distraction from the fire under my skin.

I’m just about to signal for another drink when the front door opens and my jaw drops open.

Holy shit.

Noooooooo.

Crap!

Fury walks in like he owns the place. He’s traded his security uniform for dark jeans and a charcoal gray Henley that hugs his broad shoulders and shows off those incredible tattoos on his forearms. His dark hair is slightly mussed, like he’s been running his hands through it, and even from across the crowded bar, I can see those piercing blue eyes scanning the room.

The man is just ridiculously attractive, and my dragon purrs at the sight of him.

Down, girl. He’s still the enemy. You need to try to remember that.

I sink lower in my chair, praying he doesn’t spot me tucked away in this corner. All I want is to drink in peace. I don’t want another confrontation with the likes of him…or anyone, for that matter.

Fury chooses one of the tall tables near the center of the bar, sitting on a stool. Almost immediately, a waitress appears at his elbow. She’s a petite brunette with curves that belong in a magazine and a smile bright enough to power the whole damned city.

“What can I get you, handsome?” she asks, leaning against his table in a way that puts her impressive cleavage on full display.

I can’t hear his response from here, but whatever he says makes her giggle like a teenager. He says something else.

“Good choice.” She touches his arm, her hand lingering. Then she murmurs something, but I can’t hear over the music. Why am I even trying to listen in?

It’s irritating.

I try hard to focus on something else. Anything else but them. It isn’t long before my eyes are drawn back. She’s laughing again and murmurs something.

Fury smiles and nods.

Then she touches him again, this time clutching his bicep, before sauntering away to fetch his drink, making sure to sway her hips for his benefit.

I roll my eyes.

The bartender appears at my table with my martini and a shot. “From the gentleman at the bar,” he says, nodding toward an older male in a suit. Despite being close to fifty, he’s attractive. The guy raises his glass in a toast.

I want to refuse the shot, but I need the alcohol more than I need to make a point. I lift the glass in acknowledgment, then pointedly ignore him, downing the shot. I wince at the taste. Tequila has never been my favorite.

The waitress returns to Fury’s table with what looks like whiskey, and I watch in fascination as she practically climbs onto the table to set it down. Her hand lingers on his shoulder, and she says something that makes him chuckle.

My dragon snarls.

Fury glances up at that moment, his eyes sweeping the bar until they lock with mine. Even across the crowded room, I feel the impact of that gaze rake over me. He lifts his brows and smiles at me.

I take a sip of my martini, looking away. Of course, my eyes are drawn back against my will.

The waitress is still talking, still touching, still making it abundantly clear that she’s available for whatever he has in mind. I find myself studying his face, waiting to see if he’ll take the bait.

“Mind if I sit with you?”

I tear my attention away from Fury to find a man standing beside my table. It’s the male who bought me the shot. I should never have accepted it. Human males seem to think that if they buy you a drink, it automatically means that you owe them something.

“I thought you looked lonely.” His approach is smoother than the last guy’s. At least his smile looks more genuine. Still…

“Thank you for the drink, but I’m not interested.”

“Come now, don’t be unfriendly. I’m James.” He sits on the chair across from me, anyway, completely ignoring my objection. “I saw you turn down that amateur earlier, but I’m not some college boy trying to impress you with Daddy’s credit card.”

“I’m still not interested.”

“You haven’t even given me a chance.” His smile has become tight and doesn’t reach his eyes. “I can show you things that boy never could. I know what a woman like you really wants.”

Well, excuse the hell out of me.

“I really am not interested.” I glance at his ring finger. It’s dented. He has taken off his ring for the night.

Asshole!

“Playing hard to get? I like that in a woman.” He leans forward, his voice dropping to what he probably thinks is a seductive whisper. “But we both know you didn’t come here to drink alone. You’re looking for something, and I can give it to you.”

My dragon is pushing against my skin now, scales trying to emerge. I grip my martini glass so tightly I’m surprised it doesn’t shatter.

“I doubt that very much. I’m. Not. Interested.”

“I can tell that you’re on edge…that you need a real man to make you feel good. I’m your guy.”

I’m about to tell him in no uncertain terms what he can do with himself when a massive shadow falls across the table.

I look up to see Fury standing behind James.

I can feel the menace radiating from him in waves.

His face is perfectly calm, but his eyes…

Holy shit…the look in his eyes is downright feral.

“Is there a problem here?” Fury’s voice is quiet, conversational even, but there’s something underneath it that makes my skin prickle. “Is this guy bothering you?”

James turns in his chair, clearly ready to tell this interloper to mind his own business. But when he sees Fury – really gets a good look at him – all the color drains from his face as his gaze moves up and up and higher still.

“I…no…um…no problem at all,” James stammers, practically falling over himself to get out of the chair. “We were just… I…I was just leaving. I swear I didn’t mean any harm.”

He scurries away without another word, hightailing it right out of the bar.

I watch him go, then look up at Fury with what I hope is an unimpressed expression. “I can handle myself, you know. I didn’t need you to rescue me.”

“I know you can.” He sits in the chair the asshole just vacated, his long legs barely fitting.

“But that guy was three seconds away from finding out exactly how well you can handle yourself, and I figured you probably don’t want to explain to Harrison why his PA was arrested for assault.

Or why you had scales pop out all over your face whilst battling to keep your beast under control. How would you explain that one away?”

Damn, he has a point.

“Bottom line, you looked like you were about to shift and tear his throat out.”

Heat floods my cheeks. Was I that obvious?

“Thanks for the help. I’m all good now. You should probably get back to your waitress friend,” I say, nodding toward the female who’s now giving me a death stare from across the bar. “She looks just about ready to end her shift so that you can take her home.”

Fury follows my gaze and shrugs. “She’s not my type.”

“Oh, really now?” Against my better judgment, I find myself asking, “What is your type, then? I thought someone like that was everybody’s type.”

His eyes fix on mine, and a smile spreads across his face, bringing those dimples to the fore. “I like a female who is a little harder to get. Ideally, someone with a smart mouth.” He looks pointedly at mine for a few seconds.

Holy shit!

I blink, remembering his words from the other night. “I thought you liked it when a woman begged. I hate to tell you, but that isn’t hard to get.”

He leans forward, close enough that I can smell his cologne mixed with that distinctive dragon smoke. “Hard-to-get at first,” he says, his voice low and rough. “Then I like a whole lot of begging followed by hard sex that a human probably wouldn’t be able to handle.”

Heat shoots straight to my core, and I have to look away to hide my reaction. “Well, you’re going to have to look long and hard to find someone who fits that particular bill.”

I reach for my glass again, only to realize it’s empty. My dragon is still pacing, still restless, and I’m considering ordering another drink when Fury leans back in his chair.

“You want to get out of here?” he asks. “I can give you exactly what you need, Shadow.”

Hard sex.

Yes…that sounds… No!

I laugh, the sound sharp. “I’m not going to sleep with you. Not now, not ever. You can get that thought right out of your head.”

His smile turns downright wicked. “What I have in mind is better than sex. It’s something you need. It will help take the edge off of what you are feeling.”

I stare at him, my eyes narrowing. “Better than sex?”

He nods.

My clit throbs even though he just said he isn’t talking about sex. I’m disappointed and intrigued and all at the same time.

“What do you have in mind?”

He grins.

I’m in so much trouble.