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  Davena got to her feet and confronted Delphine. “I did warn you.”

  “You can’t compare to me,” Delphine said with an evil grin.

  Words filled Davena’s mind – Hoodoo and Voodoo alike. It was the knowledge of her mother and the power of Delphine working and mixing together, mingling and blending to form a new power until Davena’s entire body hummed with it.

  All the while, Delphine was working her own magic, but it couldn’t match what was inside Davena. A smile pulled at her lips because she knew she could kill Delphine with merely a thought.

  “I’m not a killer,” Davena said more to herself than Delphine.

  The priestess smiled coldly. “That’s why you’re going to lose.”

  Davena cocked her head, and with a wave of her hand had Delphine hanging in midair. She thought it might be enough to stop whatever Delphine had in mind.

  She should’ve known better.

  Beau let out a bellow, his hands on his head as he fell to his knees. The look of excruciating pain on his face was almost enough for her to kill Delphine right then. If she did, how would she ever be able to look at herself in the mirror again, much less face Beau?

  Davena turned back to Delphine to see the triumph in her eyes. “Enough.”

  “No!” Delphine bellowed.

  It was the last straw for Davena. She moved Delphine back until the edge of her skirt touched the fire circle. Davena kept the fire from consuming Delphine’s clothes, but only just.

  Delphine’s gaze jerked to her, comprehension dawning that Davena wasn’t just a match for her, but more powerful as well. Several seconds ticked by before Beau fell forward on all fours, his head hanging and his breathing coming in great gasps.

  Eventually, he looked up and gave a nod. Relief filled her so quickly Davena grew lightheaded. She pulled Delphine away from the fire and extinguished the flames on her skirt, but she kept her hanging in midair.

  Beau slowly stood and came to stand beside her. Davena used that time to stop the wind and put out the fire altogether.

  She walked closer to Delphine, her chin lifted. “You have two choices. You can push me one more time, in which case I will kill you. You know I have the power to do it.”

  “And the second?” Delphine asked tightly.

  “Leave. Joseph is dead. There’s no one to know what really happened other than you. Tell them I’m dead. Tell them I don’t have any power. I don’t care what you say, but let them know that I will never come to take your place. I make my own destiny.”

  Delphine’s black eyes slid to Beau. “With him?”

  “With myself,” Davena said. “No more running, no more being afraid. Make your choice, Delphine.”

  The priestess composed herself, the red fading from her eyes. “I will return to New Orleans.”

  Davena lowered Delphine back to the ground. She started to walk away when Davena called her name.

  “One more thing,” Davena said as she moved to stand nose-to-nose with the priestess. “You’re anger is with me. Not with the Chiassons, and certainly not with the LaRues or anyone connected with either family. If any of them die under mysterious circumstances or has a curse put on them, I’ll be coming for you. I will destroy you and your followers without a second thought or bothering to ask if it was you. Do you understand?”

  Fury blazed in Delphine’s gaze. “Perfectly.”

  Davena stepped back and let the priestess walk away. She remained prepared in case Delphine tried anything, and she stayed that way until the priestess was out of sight.

  Then Davena sagged against the tree, Beau’s arms coming around her to hold her up. She was afraid to look at him, afraid to know that he believed everything she had said to Delphine.

  “That was...incredibly sexy,” Beau said.

  It was so unexpected that a laugh bubbled from Davena. She looked up at him, her throat clogging with emotion when she gazed into his bright blue eyes. “You were here the entire time?”

  “Most of it. I arrived before Delphine and hid behind the tree. You were too focused on Delphine to notice.”

  “Beau, what I said –”

  He nodded and interrupted her by saying, “I know.”

  “You do?”

  His smile was slow and heart stopping. “I know you, Davena. I know you care about people and family. I knew you would go as far from the town as you could. And...I know you love me.”

  She was so stunned that she could only stare blankly at him. How did he know? She hadn’t said anything to him about him.

  Davena’s mind halted when his hand slid to the back of her head and he took her lips in a sensual, savage kiss. Safely ensconced in Beau’s embrace, she wrapped her arms around his neck and returned the kiss with fervor.

  A new beginning had started for her, one with infinite possibilities.

  Someone cleared their throat, breaking them apart. She looked away as soon as her gaze landed on Marshall. Beau chuckled as the two shared smiles.

  “You brought Marshall?” Davena asked in surprise.

  Marshall grunted, though his smile was wide. “I didn’t give him a choice, not that I did much good. That wall of fire thing kept me from seeing anything.”

  Davena had thought no one would see what she could do. She didn’t want to be known as the freak of town. She tried to turn away, but Beau held her still.

  “Don’t hide what you are.” Beau’s tone was serious, as was the look on his face.

  Marshall slung the rifle over his shoulder. “He’s right, Davena. Embrace who you are because I think you’ll find you fit in well here.”

  “As do you, deputy,” she said with a grin.

  Marshall gave a tip of his hat and turned on his heel. They watched him walk back to his car for long moments.

  “So,” Beau said. “Do you have plans for the night?”

  She gave a shake of her head. “No, I’m free.”

  “What about the rest of your life?”

  Davena bit her lip. “You barely know anything about me.”

  “We’re going to remedy that starting tonight. You love me, remember?”

  “I do.” She licked her lips, suddenly incredibly nervous. Her courage came from the knowledge that Beau wouldn’t still be beside her if he didn’t care for her, as well. “What about you?”

  His eyes twinkled with merriment. “What about me?”

  “You know my feelings, but I don’t know yours.”

  “Don’t you,” he whispered and pulled her tightly against him. “I’ve not hidden them from our first meeting. I can’t, not when it comes to you.”

  She ran her fingers through his long hair and kissed him. “I’ve not had any kind of relationship in six years.”

  “Then we’ll take it slow,” he whispered. “You get to choose. Just promise you’ll never leave. I need you, Davena. I love you.”

  “And I love you. I don’t want to ever be without you.”

  “I’m a hunter. I’m gone most nights fighting evil.”

  Davena’s heart swelled as she realized what a great man she had. “I’m very good at fighting evil myself, you know.”

  “Do I ever,” he growled and turned them so he had her pinned against the tree.

  EPILOGUE

  One day later...

  Beau slammed the truck door on Vincent and took Davena’s hand. She was laughing along with Ava and Olivia.

  “What?” Vincent said as he opened the door and got out of the truck. “All I said was that there was room enough in the house for everyone.”

  Christian groaned loudly. “For the love of God, Vin, let it go. Everyone wants their privacy, me included. I can’t exactly walk around naked anymore.”

  “See?” Beau said with a hand out toward Christian as he looked between Vincent and Lincoln. “That right there. Yes, the house is plenty big enough, but there’s no reason we all have to stay together.”

  Lincoln was laughing as he held up his hands for everyone to stop walking and quiet down.
“All right. I see both sides. Vincent, you want everyone here, and I see that. However, I also understand Christian’s and Beau’s sides. They were going to talk to us about moving out before Davena came into the picture, so it’s nothing new.”

  “Riiight,” Vincent said grumpily. “You all are ganging up on me. Olivia, are you still on my side.”

  “Babe, I’m always on your side.” She leaned up to kiss his cheek. “But I think everyone should get to choose.”

  Ava nodded quickly. “I agree with Olivia.”

  Vincent threw up his hands in defeat. “Wonderful.”

  “Wait,” Lincoln said. “I wasn’t finished.”

  Christian blew out a frustrated breath.

  Lincoln threw him a nasty look. “I get that everyone needs their own space, but I agree with Vincent that everyone should stay here.”

  Beau laughed and looked down at Davena who wore a bright smile.

  “Honey,” Ava said. “I hate to tell you this, but that doesn’t solve anything.”

  Lincoln pulled her against his side and slapped her on the ass. “If I could finish.”

  “By all means,” Christian said cantankerously.

  “There is plenty of land. Who says we can’t build our own homes?” Lincoln suggested.

  It was such a good idea that everyone looked around waiting for an argument. When none was made, Lincoln took a bow. “Thank you, thank you. I’m here all the time.”

  Christian slapped him on the back of the head. “Jerk off.”

  Laughter ensued as Lincoln chased Christian around to the back of the house. Everyone else followed in time to see Lincoln tackle him to the ground, then sit on top of him, his hands in the air.

  Ava let out a long whistle and clapped. “Yay, baby!”

  Beau stopped and frowned. “Do you smell that?”

  “Smell what?” Olivia asked as she and Vincent halted beside him.

  Davena sniffed the air. “It smells like apple pie.”

  “It does,” Vincent agreed. He looked down at Olivia. “Is Maria here?”

  Olivia was shaking her head even as Beau walked through the porch to the back door. Davena was right beside him, and the others were on his heels. He threw open the door and everyone piled into the kitchen.

  A whirl of long, dark waves turned and smiled in welcome. “I made Momma’s apple pie.”

  “Riley,” Beau said with a shake of his head, but a smile nonetheless.

  The shit storm was about to rain down for sure.

  Look for the next story in the Chiasson series with their cousins, the LaRues in MOON KISSED – Coming November 10, 2014!

  Until then, read on for the sneak peek at BURNING DESIRE, the third book in the Dark King series…

  Dreagan Industries

  Cork, Ireland

  May

  Pretending. Misleading. Mimicking.

  Kiril and the rest of his brethren had been perfecting those acts since they sent their dragons away and set about blending in with the humans. They had honed their skills to a degree that only a handful of people in the entire world knew who they really were—Dragon Kings.

  It had been difficult for the first millennia to pretend they weren’t once rulers of the realm. After that, it became a habit, a way of life. What else was a Dragon King to do when the dragons were gone?

  Kiril spent many centuries deep in his cave, asleep, hidden from the world and the shockingly easy way their reign had passed from legend to myth. Even then he wasn’t free from his memories or the longing to be the dragon he was born to be.

  No, in the dragon sleep, he relived the glorious time when the dragons ruled the Earth, when roars filled the air, and dragons were free to roam the skies, the ground, and even the waters as they wanted.

  And then the humans came.

  Kiril clenched his teeth together as he drove down the winding, narrow road toward Cork. He wasn’t sure if he would ever be rid of his repugnance for them. He didn’t blame all humans. After all, five of his fellow Kings had recently bound themselves to human females.

  However, eons ago, it had been a human female who had made a vow to one of them, only to betray him and set in motion a war that could have destroyed them all. It was only the Kings banding together, and Constantine, the King of Kings, who came up with a solution—sending the dragons to another realm.

  Kiril sped his sleek Sepang brown Mercedes SLS AMG Roadster along the winding roads with the top down and the wind whipping around him. It was the closest thing to flying that he could allow himself while remaining in Ireland amid the foulest enemies of the Dragon Kings—the Dark Fae.

  The Dark were set on capturing a Dragon King. Recently, they had managed to hold two—Kellan and Tristan—for a short period before both escaped. Though it had been a close call, especially with Kellan.

  Each time it had been narrow escapes. The Dragon Kings and their friends hadn’t escaped unscathed. There were injuries, but the worst was that Rhi had been taken by the Dark.

  Rhi. Kiril couldn’t help but grin as he thought of the Light Fae. Though the Kings had waged war on both sides of the Fae, Rhi was different. For a time, she had been the lover of a Dragon King.

  And no King would ever forget that.

  None of them really understood what tore Rhi and her lover apart, and they likely never would. He never spoke of her, never mentioned her name. And Rhi . . . had returned to the Light to take up her duties. Oddly enough, it was her interference in telling a Warrior that he was half-Fae and her prince that brought her back into the fold of the Kings.

  She hadn’t been thrilled about it, and had, in fact, told them all where to go. Yet, when trouble came, it was Rhi who rushed in to save Kellan and his mate, Denae. Then she did it again with Tristan and Sammi—to Rhi’s peril.

  Kiril was determined to locate where the Dark were holding Rhi. It was one of the many things he was going to ascertain while spying. Every minute of every day brought him closer to danger. Returning time and again to the Dark’s pub, an Doras, only quickened the inevitable.

  Not that a Dragon King ever shied from danger.

  It was all worth it if he could rescue Rhi and learn who was out to reveal them to the world. The fact their faceless enemy aligned themselves with the Dark Fae as well as MI5 meant that they were prepared to do anything.

  And so was Kiril. He would give himself up to the Dark before he allowed anything to happen to his brothers. It just might come to that too.

  The Dark knew who he was, had known for days. It was a game they played with each other. He pretended not to know they watched the home he bought, and they were never far from wherever he was while they pretended that they had no idea he was a Dragon King.

  He had to guard his every word, mind his every move. It was exhausting. And exhilarating. It had been ages since he’d had such an opponent. In the end, however, he had to remember it wasn’t a game. Their competition would decide who got to remain on the realm—the Dark or the Kings.

  Not once since he came to Ireland had Kiril dared to take to the skies—even in a rainstorm. The urge to shift into a dragon and have the air rush over his scales and along his wings was irresistible, crushing.

  He gripped the steering wheel and gradually took control of himself. He slowed the car as he drew closer to Cork. Cork, like Venice, was built on the water with the city center situated on an island in the River Lee, upstream from Cork Harbor. With the River Lee separating into two branches and surrounding the city center, there were numerous bridges giving Cork a distinctive look and feel.

  The city was pretty, but it wasn’t home. Kiril longed for Scotland and Dreagan. He came to a stop at an intersection and waited for the light to turn green. The Shandon Bells of the eighteenth-century Church of St. Anne suddenly filled the air. The old-world style of Cork only made him miss Scotland all the more, but most especially Dreagan and the mountains that were home.

  The sixty thousand acres of Dreagan were a haven for the Dragon Kings. With restricted
air space over their land, they could shift and fly whenever they wanted. The fact Dreagan whisky was the finest in the world kept them in luxury. Every restaurant and pub sought to sell Dreagan, but they were selective in who they allowed to sell their whisky. The Irish whisky he sampled while in Ireland was passable, but what he wouldn’t do for a bottle of Dreagan.

  Kiril found a parking space and quickly pulled the Mercedes in before he cut the engine. He didn’t plan on being in the city long, but the dark clouds hinted at rain. Kiril closed the roof with a simple press of a button and stepped out of the car.

  He fastened the first button of his suit jacket and glanced around to see how many were watching. Three Dark were visible and doing a poor job of trying to blend in. Kiril imagined there were at least four more watching him as they did on previous nights.

  “Here we go again,” he mumbled to himself and locked the car before he strode to the sidewalk.

  Every time he came to Cork it was for show. He ate at expensive restaurants—sometimes alone, sometimes with different women. He visited different pubs, but always he returned to an Doras before heading home.

  Occasionally alone, and at times with women.

  Kiril had one hand in the pocket of his slacks when his gaze snagged on a pair of legs that seemed to go on for miles. Her black skirt skimmed high up on her thighs, and her platform heels only made those shapely limbs appear longer.

  He paused and let his gaze wander up her legs to the curve of her hips. A silver shirt sparkled with sequins at the hem banded around her, accentuating her trim waist. The shirt was loose, flowing while the back crisscrossed in a large X showing a wealth of creamy skin. Her black hair was pulled to the side in a messy braid that fell over her left shoulder. She kept her back to him as she peered in the window of a shop.