soft, cool jazz and hard, pounding rock. A few women lounging on the sidewalk and sipping hurricanes gave him the twice-over. Wind teased the pure white streak of hair at his temple, played with the gold dagger earring dangling from his left ear.
A collective female sigh, soft as a Mississippi River breeze, drifted toward him. He angled his famous half-smile at the staring threesome. “Evening, ladies,” he drawled.
Three in one night. Nothing new. Hard, fast female company, the bliss of quick, anonymous sex and the energy it brought pushed back the loneliness a little. The tallest had a lush figure, with enough flesh on all the right places he loved to caress. He adored females. Even human women, who were too frail to absorb the rough sex Draicon males sometimes relished.
But sex with anonymous strangers never touched the empty space inside him. Raphael gave the women a charming smile and walked away. Behind him, their murmurs of disappointment buzzed like mosquitoes in the bayou.
He headed toward the scratched wood bar and grabbed a mug of beer. Male and female Draicon nursing drinks stared. “That’s him,” he heard one female whisper. “The Kallan. They say he was appointed because he killed eighty Morphs in one day when they were about to slay a pack in California.”
Sometimes the story boasted over a hundred Morphs, and the pack of Draicon were from New England. It mattered not, for the legend shadowing him was far bigger than reality.
“He’s also the only mixed-blood ever to become Kallan. Who would have thought a Cajun mongrel could have entered the ranks,” a male murmured.
Raphael stiffened.
Too often he felt as if he were dancing atop a paper pedestal erected by his people. When would he fall off because his blood wasn’t pure enough? Only his family treated him normally.
He snorted. Normal? He was immortal. Normal wasn’t part of the package.
Being a Kallan required strength, physical prowess but most of all, emotional detachment tempered with compassion and spiritual purity. A Kallan did not relish dispatching his own people. He saw his role as a guide to the Other Realm, who prepared them for crossing over. Those transitions, even if they committed crimes against their own kind, were treated with dignity and compassion.
He had never dispatched a female before. Raphael hoped he’d have the strength and emotional detachment to execute the cursed Draicon.
Two of his brothers shouted a hearty hello. He was crossing the distance between them when a voice spoke in his head.
Amant? Are you there?
The whisper made him halt. It was her, the one he revered above all others. Raphael held up a hand in greeting to his brothers. He retreated to a solitary table.
Erin. I’m here, he reassured her.
Her voice sounded shaky, as if she tried disguising her fear. But something deeply worried her.
I thought I’d lost you. You haven’t spoken to me since yesterday.
Hush, little one, he soothed. I’m right here, as I have been. What troubles you, chere?
I just missed you, that’s all.
I missed you, too, he admitted, pulling out a chair and propping one booted foot upon it.
One month ago, he had been preparing crayfish for the family barbecue when he’d heard her. His draicara seeking him out. Raphael had gone still at the sweet purity of her voice, the low melodic tones. He’d felt bathed in serenity and yet sharpened by sexual need.
It was the most erotic thing he’d ever experienced, and yet she’d spoken but one sentence.
Since then, they’d talked nearly each day. He wisely did not press her and allowed her to seek him out. He’d called himself the nickname bestowed on him by his brothers—Amant, the French word for “lover.” He didn’t want to frighten her or have her overcome with awe at the legendary Raphael, the most feared and respected Draicon.
Where are you now? What are you doing? Erin asked.
In a bar. Talking to you.
He leaned forward, placing both feet on the floor. What’s wrong, Erin? You sound sad. Are you alone?
A tiny sigh went through him like an arrow. Where I am, I am always alone.
Where was her pack? Her Alpha?
I must go. It isn’t safe here. I have to go someplace safe.
He picked up her anxiety, like little hairs brushing against the nape of his neck. Raphael frowned, wishing he could see her. Your people—are they near? Do you feel threatened?
It’s just some males from my pack walking nearby. I can’t let them see me.
His hackles rose at the suggestion of someone daring to touch his draicara. Automatically, he flexed his muscles, his protective instincts rising. If they try anything with you, they will pay.
Don’t worry. They won’t come near me.
They’d better not. You’re mine and mine alone, he couldn’t help rumbling.
She gave a light laugh, as sweet and airy as a songbird. I can take care of myself. Trust me. I have for a while now.
It’s my job to take care of you.
Her voice deepened. You’re so good to me, even if you aren’t here. I cherish our times together these past weeks. When can I see you?
Raphael blocked away thoughts of the task awaiting him. Soon. I have an assignment, then I will come to you.
Promise? Despair punctuated her voice. Troubled, he sent her waves of reassurance, soothing images of forest and glen, the deep quiet of the green woods. He felt her tension ease.
How I wish you could kiss me now. Kiss me and tell me all is well.
Her admission sent waves of erotic heat through him. He would kiss her, inch by sweet inch. His body tightened with need. He wondered what she looked like and wished she would allow him to see her reflection in a mirror.
I am eager for us to meet. I can’t wait to touch you, he admitted in a husky, sensual whisper.
No!
Her distress screamed in his mind. Raphael frowned and speculated. Even if she were a virgin and scared of her first time, such fear wasn’t normal.
Has someone hurt you? He didn’t mean to make his voice so sharp, and softened his tone. Tell me, so I may help you, chere.
I will be fine. Her wistfulness gave his heart a twist.
Let me help you. I’m your dracairon. It’s my duty to care for you, and see to all your needs, be they large or small.
You sound as if I’m an invalid who needs assistance getting out of bed, came the tart reply.
Raphael gave a small, amused laugh. It might come to that. He blocked the thought from her of the sexy image of Erin lying languid and flushed
