Vampire Dragon Read Online Free Page A

not lost the woman whose true heart spoke to his. Neither had he won her, he must remember. Not yet.
    A longing to transform Bronte’s expression with his presence marched in Darkwyn’s mind beside a need for her to welcome him with an enthusiastic embrace, though he envisioned her welcome to include her supple body moving with his.
    “Wearing your Spider-Man mask today, I see,” Bronte said, kissing Zachary’s head, square between her breasts.
    The lucky boy gave an exaggerated shrug. “Yeah, ’cause my Einstein and Churchill masks are in the wash.”
    Bronte’s eyes danced, and Darkwyn fell deeper beneath her spell.
    “Zachary was born an old man.” She ruffled his hair.
    “Why are you both masked?” Darkwyn asked.
    Whoa, Bronte’s inner fortifications rose like one of Killian’s dragon traps. “Vamps attend my club masked. It adds to the anonymity and allure of our vampiric profile. Tourists are exempt, though most embrace the masks we offer as part of the charm, hence my employees also wear them. Masks extend the enchantment.”
    Darkwyn tilted his head as if he were satisfied, knowing her truth had been stretched. “But the boy?” he asked.
    Zachary’s own chin went up. “I work for Bronte as an inventor, so I follow the rules of the establishment. I turn coffins into sofas,” the boy said. “A universal bit of poetic justice.”
    He spoke telepathically to Vivica. First lesson: “poetic justice,” please.
    Don’t worry , Vivica said. I’m as confused by that remark as you are.
    Slight consolation , he replied.
    Unaware of their exchange, Bronte beamed at the boy. “Zachary does the real magick around here, despite my botched attempts to learn the craft.”
    “Mine is hardly magick,” the boy said, sounding wiser than his years.
    Bronte pointed, guiding their gazes to a fenced area at the right of her building, music and laughter sailing on the air, where a huge wheel rose skyward. “Kid,” she said, “you invented the coffin wheel. Not many twelve-year-olds can say that.”
    Zachary shrugged. “I didn’t invent anything. I like Ferris wheels so I made a few modifications.”
    “Zachary can modify anything,” Bronte said, turning to Vivica. “Sweetie, you have to find me a host who can play Master Vamp to my Vampiress. Right now, Ogden, up in the window, there, is doing too many jobs. I need to cut him a break.”
    “Workin’ on it,” Vivica said.
    In that moment Darkwyn released the spirit of his bold dragon and took Bronte McBride’s arm to escort her down the sidewalk. “I can tell you’re in hiding,” he said, stopping her from pulling away.
    She nearly tripped over her spikes, but she stilled. “What do you mean?”
    Because his heart raced, he knew hers did. Fear, he sensed in her. “Hiding inside yourself, I mean. Keeping your emotions to yourself.”
    Heart race, full stop. “Oh,” she whispered.
    “Let me help.”
    “What?”
    “My ability to speak in your tongue is limited, but you, too, are a creature of few words.” He couldn’t petition her love—impossible on short acquaintance—so he appealed to her alarm and need. “Let me explain. I am strong. I am fearless; I can be fearsome . I would make your goals mine. I would be loyal to the death. I would.”
    “We just met.”
    Killian, his enemy—she who would stop him from winning his heart mate—would laugh at so bumbling an attempt as this. He’d showed his hand too soon. “You employ workers. I could get your—what did you call those boxes?”
    “Caskets,” she said.
    “I could get them to the second floor with no effort.” He’d fly them up, under cover of night, if he must. He patted her hand and turned them back toward Vivica. “Call upon me, if you will. I can help.”
    “How?”
    “Protection. I am stronger than you can imagine. You are also strong. Together, we could be doubly so.” He released her. “Think on it.”
    Zachary tilted his head and gave her a half nod.
    Bronte appeared