Gena Showalter Bundle: The Stone Prince / The Pleasure Slave / Heart of the Dragon

Magic.

Magic enveloped him the moment he stepped inside the shop called Vortex. The name should have made him realize ’twas what he needed sooner. He paused a moment, breathing in the sweet, rain-kissed essence so like the air of his homeland. So like Katie. Yet, as he stood with the wondrous scent in his nostrils, he had trouble believing this much anticipated moment was upon him. How long had he prayed for this? How long had he wished?

Too long.

Squaring his shoulders, he studied the dwelling. The carpet was beige, as were the walls. There were no frivolities or bottles displayed on stands. Incense did not fill the air. Nay, the place showcased only a long, thin counter.

Several people loitered about, talking, laughing, and exchanging information. But Jorlan paid them no heed. He was too intent on the lone man standing behind the counter. The man was short and had thinning brown hair, eye spectacles and high blade-like cheekbones that could have cut glass.

“This is it, isn’t it?” Katie asked, suddenly beside him. Those were the first words she had spoken to him since leaving the rented chamber. “This is it,” she repeated, her tone laden with a strange pitch he could not identify. “It feels different than the others.”

Her observation amazed him, for no magic beat within her veins. She was not a child of the Druinn, nor did she possess the soul of the ancients. Yet she knew, just as he did, that true power beat within these walls. Mayhap he should not have been surprised. She had been attuned to his feelings since the beginning.

“’Tis the magic you feel. Magic that can take me home.”

“Home?” She said the word as if she’d never heard it before, then lapsed once more into silence. Her gaze darted around the room. Her features were tense with…what? He did not know. He could not read the emotion shining so brightly in her eyes.

“This magic is not born of your world, but of mine.” Jorlan breathed deeply. “The vibration is very strong, the essence quite unique, and almost familiar. Whoever this sorcerer is, he is very powerful.”

“I see.”

Now he recognized that pitch. Accusatory. She spoke as if she’d just discovered him standing over a dead body, talon in hand. He turned to her, took her chin in his hands. “We could leave today, together, if you would only agree to come with me.”

“I’ve already explained my reasons for staying.” Her expression was sad and resentful at the same time.

His eyes narrowed. “I cannot go without you, katya. This you know.”

“I—”

“Before you again say no, recall that I have not seen my home in a thousand spans. I am…begging you.” The words emerged stiffly. “Please. Come with me.”

“If it weren’t for the time difference, I would. I’d leave with you today, now, this instant.” Moisture pooled in her eyes, and he experienced a twinge of guilt for pushing so insistently. But then she blinked and glanced away. “I’m sorry. I can’t risk it.”

He knew she meant more than just risking a trip to his homeland. She meant love. She couldn’t, wouldn’t risk loving him. He tasted sickness at the back of his throat, felt the cold edge of stone course through him. He forced himself to calm. Whether she denied it or not, he was making progress with her, and he would continue to do so, even if he had to double his efforts. He refused to even contemplate the fact that her love might spring too late.

“Then we will stay,” he relented. “For now.”

She gazed up at him with a soft, completely feminine expression. He was potently reminded of their kisses—of all the kisses they’d already shared and of all the kisses they would share. “Do you still wish to meet this sorcerer?” she asked.

“Aye. Just because we do not go this day, does not mean we will not go another day.” Taking her hand in his, he stepped to the counter.

“I welcome you,” the little man said, beckoning them over.

“I have come for—”

“I know why you are here,” the man said. He pushed his glasses higher on his nose. “However, I am not the one you seek. I cannot help you.”

At that, a sharp sense of dread pulsed through Jorlan. “Someone here can help me. I know this to be true.”

“Yes. There is someone.”

“Where can I find this someone?”

The little man stepped back, out of arm’s length. “You cannot. He will find you—if he wants to.”

Jorlan’s teeth gnashed together. Curse it, something would go right for him this day! “For now, I wish only to talk to the man, and I will find him whether he wants to be found or not. I will have your aid, as well. Where is he?”

“Could be anywhere, really.”

Jorlan gripped the edge of the counter so tightly the bones of his fingers almost snapped. “Where. Is. He?” His voice slashed out, edged with fury.

The little man blanched. “Whoa, whoa there. You’re not the only one who desires a trip home. Mon Graig has many dwellings throughout this world and takes many through the vortex. Sometimes he is gone a few days, sometimes he is gone a few years, but no one, no one knows exactly where he is or when he will return.”

“How long ago did he leave for this last trip?” Katie asked softly. She placed her hand upon Jorlan’s arm, and he felt himself relax.

“Nine weeks or so.”

Which could mean anything, Jorlan thought, closing his eyes. Wait, wait, wait. The words scorched a path through his body. He was so very tired of waiting for the things that he desired.

Katie’s fingers gently squeezed his forearm. She was so close her breath fanned his skin. Just like that, he felt himself relax again. How did she soothe him so easily?

“For all we know, the man could return tomorrow,” she said, her tone as gentle as her touch.

Jorlan gave a stiff nod. “You are right.”

“Use this time to raise some cash,” the little man interjected. “These trips aren’t cheap, you know.”

“How much is needed?” Jorlan stared down at the clerk so intently that the man began to fidget.

“It’s, uh, different for everyone. Mon Graig will tell you when he comes for you.”

“I will pay nothing until I find myself standing on the soil of my homeland.”

“Understandable.”

“Good.” Jorlan nodded, satisfied he’d done all he could do. “Then tell Mon Graig my name is—”

“Doesn’t matter what your name is. Mon Graig will find you. I’m sure he already knows of your visit.”

Frowning, Jorlan wrapped his arm around Katie’s waist and strode out the door.

AS HER TRUCK RACED along the highway, Katie glanced over at Jorlan. He had barely spoken a word to her since they’d left Vortex. His entire demeanor screamed “no touch” right now. She knew he was disappointed. She knew he needed time to face the reality of a prolonged stay, but as he was fond of telling her, time was their enemy.

There had to be something she could do to cheer him up.

They soon crossed into Dallas. Twenty minutes later, she eased her truck into the winding driveway of the Victorian. Jorlan loved physical labor, so what better way to keep his mind busy than to put him to work?

Katie placed the truck in Park. Her eyes narrowed. An old, rusty and unfamiliar Dodge Dart was parked in front of the house.