Dragon's Promise. Denise Lynn

him.

      Before he could understand exactly what was happening, or offer protest, Sean’s beast gently blew an invisible puff of fire and smoke in her direction, marking the woman as his.

      Didn’t the dragon understand that the two of them were one being? The beast couldn’t claim a mate without committing Sean to the same person. He resisted the urge to gasp at the implication. Of course the beast knew exactly what it had done.

      Sometimes Sean wished he’d have paid more attention to what his brother had tried to teach him. Even though he didn’t possess the ability to materialize elsewhere or slide into another person’s dreams like his brothers did, he was able to shift and to communicate telepathically. While it made him more like them, more of a Drake perhaps, he still didn’t understand his beast the way his brothers did theirs.

      Why had his beast chosen this moment to mark a woman when it had never considered doing so before? Was it because he’d recently been thinking about returning to Dragon’s Lair and his family?

      And why this woman? Sean held back a chuckle. The answer to this question was obvious. He wanted this beguiling temptress with every fiber of his being.

      She said nothing, but the slightest widening of her eyes let him know she’d felt the mental brand.

      He pushed the drink he’d bought closer to her then grabbed the beer, deepened his smile and nodded before returning to the booth without saying a word.

      Caitlin watched him leave. A less-perceptive woman might have been deflated by his nonverbal response, interpreting it as a dismissal. However, she knew better. He may not have spoken words, but his brief touch across her thoughts had felt like a warm, possessive caress against her cheek. His inner beast had marked her, meaning this was no mere mortal man. Whatever nonhuman traits he possessed were apparently from the animal kingdom. But his mental touch hadn’t permitted her entry into his mind to tell her which one.

      However it didn’t require any degree of perception to notice that he hadn’t simply walked away—he’d sauntered, swaggered—as if confident of her interest and daring her to follow him.

      Caitlin curled her fingers around the glass he’d pushed toward her. The imprint left by his touch was still warm under hers. Beneath the warmth churned a hunger as deep as her own. She shivered with anticipation, knowing her bed wouldn’t be cold or lonely tonight.

      Of more importance had been the feeling that his interest in her was purely physical—an interest that she welcomed with relief. Because of a vow to her mother, she hadn’t fed in over a month, and now blood flowed through her veins like a thick, slow-moving sludge. The lethargy weighing her down was nearly unbearable; she needed something—someone—to refill her life force.

      The fastest, easiest way to gain the life-giving power she needed to survive was to simply suck the force from another being. However, that required her to know when to stop before completely draining the donor, and right now her hunger would make that nearly impossible.

      But the most pleasurable way to obtain what she needed, the fairest way for the other participant and the longest-lasting method was through hot, intense sex. Finding a willing partner wasn’t a problem, since as a succubus, men and women were always drawn to her whether she summoned the attraction or not. Unfortunately, most humans didn’t possess enough life force, or the driving need—a near-insatiable hunger—to survive mating with her.

      Hence the reason for promising her mother that she’d refrain from feeding on them—again. Since this man wasn’t human, he stood a better chance of living through the event.

      The old cliché “killing two birds with one stone” came to mind. She would still be honoring her parents’ request by not seeking out a human, and by morning she might gain enough life force to last weeks.

      She raised the glass to her lips and then paused before putting the drink back on the bar without taking a sip. Already weak and slow, Caitlin knew the booze would only make her feel worse. She’d come in here as a last resort, looking for a donor, not to get drunk.

      Now that she’d found what she wanted—what she so desperately needed—it was time to go. Not for one second did she worry about him finding her. She’d strategically leave enough of her scent lingering in the air that he’d find the way to her home with ease.

      * * *

      “Aren’t you a hot little thing?”

      Hot? Always. Little? Caitlin resisted rolling her eyes at that description. She hadn’t been a little thing since she’d hit just under six foot tall at age twelve.

      A yellowish glare from the streetlight at the end of the alley danced in the droplets of sleet rolling down the thug’s drawn blade. She forgot about his comment and took another step back from the two men stalking her, luring them farther into the dark alley.

      They’d been in the booth behind the changeling at the bar. She’d heard their crude comments when she’d entered, felt them watching her when she’d left the bar, and she’d seen their reflections in the smoked-glass window as they followed her out. She’d expected him to follow her, but these two were another story.

      With a quick touch of her mind to the humans, she discovered that while their goal also included sex, it wasn’t the passionate kind they wanted. She quirked an eyebrow at their stupidity and kept walking backward.

      They had corralled her into the alley a block away from the bar where no one would see them—mistakenly thinking she was an easy target. She might be drained, but her tired muscles and slow reactions would still be more than enough to handle these two.

      One man swung a knife at her, laughing as she jumped back from what he thought was a lethal blade.

      “Yeah. Come on, cut her, cut her.” The smaller of the two men squealed like a child. From the glassiness of his eyes, the lack of meat on his bones and the jerkiness of his movements, he was obviously juiced on something more than beer.

      The changeling with a body even she would die for approached frowning, but said nothing to stop the other two men. He hung back. A quizzical expression drew his brows together as if he was waiting for something.

      “Do you want my help?” She jerked slightly at the intrusion of his silent query.

      “No.” Caitlin scoffed at his offer, adding, “You know damn well that help with these two isn’t what I want from you.”

      Once again he gave her a smile full of promises and passion.

      She drew her full attention to the thug with the blade, and because the question was usually expected in these situations, she asked, “What do you want?”

      Knife man smiled. “Why, darlin’, we want you.”

      Of course he did. Everyone wanted her whether the desire was mutual or not. Caitlin shrugged out of her unzipped jacket, letting the buttery-soft black leather hit the wet pavement. “Oh, big boy, all you had to do was ask.”

      Her unexpected, brazen comment stopped them in their tracks. Only the twitching drughead seemed upset by the sudden turn of events. But his most dangerous response was to twitch faster.

      Needing just a drop of energy before taking on these two humans, she reached out with her mind and touched the junkie, recoiling instantly from the contamination and disease he carried deep in his soul. No way in hell would she place a finger on him and risk poisoning herself needlessly.

      She focused on the knife wielder. He possessed a vile darkness that wouldn’t kill her, but it would eventually make her physically ill. From their encounter in the bar, she knew the changeling would give her the opportunity to heal herself long before she became sick.

      The blade sliced through her silky tank top and across her rib cage as the thug closed his hand boldly around her left breast. “Teasing will get you killed.”

      Caitlin didn’t flinch at the knife tip’s burn. The lost blood would soon