Page 3 of Bewitching the Dragon
What the ever-loving hell?
The guy stood there with his arms crossed over his chest, pin-straight, dark hair trailing down his back almost to his butt; scarves and thick, silver chains hanging around his neck; tight, shredded jeans more or less covering the lower half of his body.
Becca gasped. Charlotte sighed.
Rahu turned his focus to the two of them. His face probably looked incredulous, which was okay, because that’s how he felt.
“He’s a freaking warlock,” he spat, disgusted by the way they were practically drooling.
Rahu had never encountered a warlock in person until now, but he’d taken enough history classes in dragon school to know that they’d damn near decimated the witch population some several hundred years ago.
The supernatural world was much like the human world; when one species went extinct, it affected the symmetry of the entire population. Chaos would have ensued if the warlocks had been successful, and eventually, their entire world could have collapsed. Humans were by far the weakest species of all, yet they very well could have been the only ones left when the dust settled. Or, who knew? Maybe the warlocks would have set about destroying them, too.
“Wait a minute—what the hell are you doing here?” Rahu demanded.
The warlock lifted one shoulder and waved his arm to encompass the entirety of the bar. “Why, entertaining my fan base, of course.”
Rahu glanced around and swore. With little exception, the entirety of the occupants of this place were all focused on them. Well, specifically on the warlock. Who, if he had to make an educated guess, was part of the band.
Warlocks of War. Of course. No humans—and apparently a dragon—would have guessed the name of the band described the beings who were in it.
“Oh, and I’m here to destroy the Daughter of Light,” the warlock said and pointed at Becca.
Chapter Two
“Time to go,” Rahu said, leaping off his barstool and grabbing Becca’s hand, clearly intending to take here wherever he was headed. That weird, and admittedly hot, sizzle that had occurred the first time they touched happened again. Talk about some crazy physical attraction.
“What? No,” she protested. The lead singer of the Warlocks of War was standing not three feet away, for God’s sake, and he seemed to be interested inher.
Holy crap!
“Well, hello, sunshine.”
Yep, he was totally interested. And damn, was he everhot. Rahu was, too, but in a totally different way. This guy was the bad boy, the one most women had a deep-seated urge to tame even though he probably couldn’t be tamed and likely didn’t want to be tamed. That hardly mattered. It was the thrill of the ride, right?
Becca hadn’t experienced very many thrilling rides. Not in her practically boring to the point of tears life before her parents died, and definitely not since her eighteenth birthday, which was when they’d both been killed and Aunt Pacey had taken her in and helped her through her grief.
Rahu stepped in front of her like some overprotective boyfriend. What the hell? They’d only known each other less than an hour. They hadn’t even kissed yet. And frankly, if he was this jealous and they barely knew each other, she wasn’t interested in pursuing a kiss, or anything at all, no matter how much her skin tingled when he touched her.
The singer cocked his head, his attention focused on Rahu. “How strange that she has a dragon protector,” he said after a few seconds. “If anything, I would have expected a gargoyle. No matter.”
And then he backhanded Rahu, who was lifted off his feet and went flying across the room, and since his hand was still firmly locked around her forearm, Becca went hurtling after him.
They crashed into a wall of bodies that quickly parted, and then they landed on the dirty, wooden floor, limbs entangled, Becca’s skirt flipped into a far-too-immodest position. Pushing off of Rahu’s chest, she twisted so that she was sitting on her butt and tugged her skirt back into place, covering her pink panties. Thank God she hadn’t chosen to wear a thong today.
Rahu leapt to his feet and charged at the singer, catching him with a shoulder to the gut, propelling them both several feet until the singer hit one of the stools at the rotating bar, stumbled, and fell sideways. He righted himself and straightened his scarves. “You are weak for a dragon.”
What the hell was he talking about? Was Rahu in some sort of gang? If that was the case, Becca was cutting her losses and taking off now. Well, just as soon as she could grab Charlotte and get the hell out of here. Potentially great live band or not, this wasn’t her scene.
Rahu growled, a seriously animalistic noise, and tackled the singer again. The two of them collapsed to the floor, fists and insults flying.
“Forget this,” Becca said. “I’m out of here.” She turned toward the entrance and bumped into a wall. Well, not a wall, precisely. More like a wide expanse of chest covered with a tight T-shirt and chunky silver chains. She lifted her gaze to look into the face of one of the other band members.
Wait, were his eyesglowing?
She blinked.
Yep. Glowing.
