“Dearest King. So excellent to meet family of Rikyava’s.” Layla gave a deferential nod, bending her head and lowering her eyes for a three-count. As a King, Huttr outranked her, but as an employee of the Hotel with Royal magic, Layla had high standing. When she lifted her head, he was grinning, his eyes brightened to an impossibly glorious battle-blood red, though Layla felt no power cresting off of him. The big Blood Dragon King obviously had impeccable control of his magic, and Layla felt nothing but an infectious levity with the scent of peat whiskey coming from him – though that could have been the whiskey glass he held in his hand.
“My, my!” Huttr chuckled, saluting Dusk with his glass. “I envy you, Milord Arlohaim, getting to taste her tonight. I’m sure I could do you one better – though my niece tells me you have ample skill in the bedroom.”
“I do my best.” Dusk gave Huttr a rakish wink and the man laughed uproariously. Rikyava scowled, however, a surge of scorch-hot battle winds swirling up around her.
“Uncle! What I told you wasprivate.” Rikyava growled.
“Nothing is private with me, sweet niece,” King Huttr chuckled as he sipped his whiskey, “especially not matters of the bedchamber. The advice I gave you still stands on how to wrangle your men.” Huttr gave a big grin, teasing his niece as he gave Dusk a wink. Rikyava scowled and opened her mouth to retort, but Huttr boomed, “Dragon Bind, come! You must meet my sons; my eldest Halfdir, and my youngest Rhennic. Perhaps one of them will be more to your taste than a Crystal cad with so many womenfolk he doesn’t know what to do with them all!”
King Huttr beckoned to the outstandingly handsome men beside him. Huttr’s sons were more slender than their father, though still towering in stature, both of them in their early thirties with Viking-blond hair and lavender eyes. Halfdir sported a short mohawk shaven with dragons like his father, a shaggy white wolf pelt chained over his tux’s shoulders. Rhennic was the more modern, with gladiator-short hair and a neatly trimmed beard, wearing an elegant charcoal suit with a blood-red ruby pinned through his black tie. Huttr’s sons gave Layla appreciative smiles, though Halfdir’s was grinningly bold and Rhennic’s more sexily subtle.
They took turns kissing her hand, though when his turn came, Rhennic turned Layla’s hand over and kissed the inside of her wrist. It sent shivers through Layla with a wash of heat. And though Rhennic’s touch held an attraction similar to what she’d felt with Adam, the tendrils of his energy easing into her from his kiss were elegantly subtle. Rhennic was mate-tasting her, she realized, but he was being appropriate about it in public. A scent of lavender and heather filled Layla’s nostrils and as her inner beast rose, a responding orange spice scent wafted up around Layla. Rhennic Erdhelm gave her a subtle smile that said he knew exactly what he’d just done – though again, it had been done with far more decorum than Adam Rhakvir.
“Desert beauty,” Rhennic murmured in a melodious baritone. “Forgive my father’s coarse ways. He really has no clue how to treat women.”
“So I’ve seen.” Layla sassed with a lift of her eyebrow, shaken by Rhennic’s mate-taste but trying to be casual about it. “And I suppose you do?”
King Huttr exploded into laughter as Rhennic’s smile startled into a grin. It was a good look, far more playful than he’d been earlier. It showed his relationship to his family, though it was clear Rhennic was the most sly and careful of the Erdhelm Blood Dragons. He straightened with a chuckle, giving Layla’s wrist a small squeeze that caught her breath before he let her go – as his father boomed more laughter, turning to Dusk.
“Well! I’ve got ten thousand riding on the Dragon Bind, Arlohaim. I think she’ll make waves in our community. That is, if Justine thinks she’s worthy, of course. That bitch has been giving me hell, telling me we—”
But he got no further as an immensely elegant older woman in a midnight blue ballgown covered with sapphires and onyx stepped up. Mature but exquisitely regal like Meryl Streep, the woman was fiercely beautiful. Her silver hair was brushed up in an elegant twist through an onyx and sapphire tiara, her fine-boned body supercharged with calm intensity. The same intensity shone in midnight blue eyes, which seemed to flash with storms beneath the chandeliers. Enormous amounts of nerve-tingling electricity surged off her thin frame, as if she couldn’t help the intensity of her Dragon-magics. Layla shivered hard, feeling it crackle over her skin – every nerve in her body coming alight like she stood next to a power plant.
“Queen Justine Toulet. Thank you for gracing our Hotel with your esteemed presence.” Dusk bowed low with a hand over his breast, a gesture he’d not made with anyone else. Touching a hand to his shoulder, Queen Justine indicated for him to straighten and Layla saw Dusk shiver as the Queen’s spine-electrifying magic poured over him.
“Dusk Arlohaim,” Queen Justine murmured in a melodious alto with a thick French accent as she air-kissed his cheeks, her stormy blue eyes shining. “So good to see you. The honor is mine, for you have thrown such alovelyparty. They say the party is Adrian’s, but I know the quality of Arlohaim handicraft. A shining example of what every Hotel should be.”
“You are too kind, my Queen.” Pleasure glowed in Dusk’s eyes as he took up the woman’s thin hand and gave it a light kiss. Though her skin was delicately aged, that hand was far from frail. As if the Dragon inside Queen Justine was just underneath her flesh, those long, thin fingers looked like vicious talons – ready to rip forth at any moment and wreak ruin.
“Indeed,” Queen Justine spoke back, electricity searing about her person as her dark blue eyes flashed with a spear of lightning. Layla blinked, thinking it had been a trick of the light, when the Storm Dragon Queen pinned Layla with her gaze and it happened again. Layla felt a spark of lightning bite over her skin, as if the Queen had somehow read her entire energy in a glance, like taking a flash-photograph. It was unnerving in the extreme and Layla shuddered, though the Storm Queen merely smiled.
“Queen Justine,” King Huttr seized the woman’s hand, pressing it with a fierce kiss that was rather uncouth, though the elderly lady weathered it well. “Excellent to see you.”
“King Huttr.” She leaned in, air-kissing him on both cheeks with elegant grace. “I hear you are bad-mouthing me again?”
“Dearest Queen—” he blustered, a scorching heat rising around him with a strong scent of peat. But Queen Justine held up a hand, stalling him instantly, her posture regal.
“Peace, Huttr. I know we have our differences. You and I will speak anon.” Those fierce, storm-raging eyes returned to Layla, looking her deftly up and down as they flashed again. Layla shivered violently, feeling the Queen’s intense magic coursing through her. “So, this is Mimi Zakir’s daughter. Like mother, like child. You look just like Mimi in her heyday, young Layla. A compliment, by all counts. Mimi Zakir was a great light in our community; she came to sing at my palace many a long night.”
“Thank you, Queen of Storms. In my deepest heart, I hope to live up to my mother’s example.”
It was still strange to Layla, thinking of Mimi as her mother rather than her grandmother. And from Queen Justine’s words, Layla wondered if the Storm Dragon Queen had been one of her mother’s lovers. But now was not the time to ask and Layla paid her respects, sinking into a deep curtsey. She didn’t have to; a kiss to Justine’s hand would have sufficed. But with the woman’s overwhelming presence surging over her like a live power line, like hell was Layla going to reach out and touch that.
Queen Justine laughed, florid and lovely. Reaching out, she set her fingertips beneath Layla’s chin, ostensibly to raise her up. But as her fingers touched Layla’s skin, electric currents flooded Layla, shuddering her in a disastrous wave. Her knees weakened and Dusk surged in to catch her from sinking to the floor as she found herself zapped by the Storm Queen’s energy.
Layla’s desert heat whirled at the Queen’s touch, swirling in a rush that Layla couldn’t control. Even with her hamsa-cuff, she was powerless – sinking beneath Queen Justine’s energy in a searing wave as orange-citrus scent flooded up all around her. Layla heaved hard breaths, stunned and shivering as Dusk held her, the Storm Queen’s touch slipping away. Like she’d just stuck her finger in a light socket, Layla’s whole body hummed with a sensation that was just this side of pain as Justine’s searing lightning-dark eyes moved from her to Dusk.
“Take care of her, young Dusk,” The Storm Queen spoke, pinning Dusk with her intense gaze. “I scent her fate upon the winds; she will need your support, soon. For twin sand-funnels need a grounding agent, and crystal will do better than most. Heed me. Keep the Dragon Bind close and all may yet be well.”
“Yes, my Queen.” Dusk managed a bow, even though he was still holding Layla up from sinking to the floor. But Layla saw his deep frown at the Storm Queen’s enigmatic words. In a way it sounded like prophecy, and in a way it just sounded like advice – but whatever Queen Justine had read in Layla’s energy had given her insight into Layla’s predicament as a Royal Dragon Bind.
But she said no more, only giving a mysterious smile and moving over to a group of people with roiling dark blue eyes nearly as impressive as hers – Storm Dragons. Layla was left breathless, shuddering as Dusk’s steady arm kept her from falling to the floor. Swallowing hard, she could still feel Justine’s energy rioting through her like a hurricane. Glancing to Rikyava, Layla saw even her fierce Blood Dragon friend seemed shaken by Queen Justine’s presence, swigging back her entire flute of champagne.
As Justine left, a group of handsomely Russian men and women approached, exchanging laughs and handshakes with King Huttr’s folk. Layla was finally able to stand, though Dusk gave her a look before turning to clasp hands with a lean man with ash-blond hair, dark brows, and exquisitely Russian high cheekbones.
Excusing herself before she could be introduced, Layla went to hide behind some potted palms near the drinks table. Leaning back against a crystal column, electrified currents still swirled through her. Breathing slowly, she felt a soothing vibration ripple the air and opened her eyes to see Dusk before her, his summer-blue eyes deep with concern.
“Are you alright?” Dusk’s voice was low as he watched her.
