Dragonfury 02 - Fury of Ice

revenge…justice…whatever. And Sloan—their resident computer genius—was tapped out. Hell, the male was so busy monitoring the human world and filtering information that he hardly ever left the lair. And if Angela could help his buddy with the workload, it was win-win all the way around.
    Plugging her into a computer would kill two birds with one stone: keep her at Black Diamond while he smoked Lothair out. But the bigger bonus? Access to Angela. Every hour of every day. Time enough to convince her of his worth. To make her want him, need him…crave him as much as he did her. All while keeping her safe.
    Jackpot. The perfect solution wrapped up in a tidy package.
    “All right, then.” Tossing the roll, he ignored the thud as it landed on the tabletop and laid the tape across the back of Angela’s hand. “If you want in, there are ground rules.”
    “Lay them out.”
    “When you’re not with me, you stay in the lair. No running off half-cocked. No going it alone when something doesn’t go your way. I let you in…you take the tasks assigned to you. I lead. You follow.” Smoothing the tape across her skin with his thumbs, he turned his head, drilled her with a don’t fuck with me look. “Got it?”
    She frowned. “But—”
    “My way or not at all, Angela,” he said, debating how far to push, how much to tell her about Dragonkind and the feedings.
    Her high-energy status might not freak her out, but the fact Lothair had taken a piece of her would. She didn’t need to know that. Not yet. Frightening her was the last thing he wanted to do. But if push came to shove, he’d nail her feet to the floor—keep her safe inside the lair—by explaining the Razorback could track her now. The instant she stepped outside Black Diamond’s energy shield, her signal would go live, transmit her location and…
    Wham.
    The SOB would come after her. No holds barred.
    “That’s the deal, love.” Releasing her hand, he slid his legs over the side of the bed and stood. As the cold floor met his bare feet, he glanced over his shoulder at her. “In or out…what’s it gonna be?”
    She glared at him. “In.”
    His satisfaction swelled like tidal wave. Well, all right, then. Score one for the home team. Now all he needed to do was stay in the game. And one step ahead of Angela. Too smart for her own good, stubborn to the core, she wouldn’t give him a straight-up victory. She’d play dirty…work him a bit at a time until he gave ground. And before he knew it? He’d be on his heels, scrambling to keep her out of trouble.
    The thought gave him chills. Which, of course, he relished, the challenge cranking him into high gear. An easy win, after all, was never as sweet as one well-earned.

Chapter Fourteen
     
    Lothair arrived at 28 Walton Street to a whole lot of nothing. No fanfare. No explosions. Nothing being thrown at him. Thank Jesus. He didn’t need Ivar’s temper right now. Or any more of Denzeil’s trucker talk either.
    “D…shut the fuck up, would ya?” Tossing his comrade a loaded look, Lothair grabbed the remote out of the center console of the Oldsmobile. On cue, the industrial-size garage door opened, old chains rattling as the sun crested the horizon. Just in time. Another five minutes and they would’ve pulled into a secluded spot, parked, and bunked in the trunk for the day. Could’ve been fun back there…a party of four, hold the champagne, fuck you very much.
    “What are ya gonna tell Ivar?” Hands working out a beat, Denzeil drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, waiting for the door to rise enough to drive in.
    Rat-ta-ta-tat. Rat-ta-ta-tat.
    The sound was a nervous one, the action telling. His comrade was scared shitless. Not that Lothair blamed him. Only a male with suicidal tendencies messed with Ivar. Good thing he wasn’t just any male and he had an ace up his sleeve. Ivar loved him like a brother. Would no sooner hurt him than cut off his own arm, and that was before his connections got thrown into the mix. Yes, sirree. Powerful friends in the Archguard made for one hell of an insurance policy.
    Lothair glanced at D’s hands, then raised a brow. The rat-ta-ta-tat stopped instantly, making his mouth curve. The fear factor—and the male’s reaction—was one of his favorites.
    “So, what’s the plan?” Denzeil glanced at him.
    Pinning him with a glare, Lothair raised a brow.
    White-knuckling the wheel, his comrade swallowed, then shifted, ass walking all over the worn