Fire King: Enemies to Lovers Paranormal Romance (Dragons & Demis Book 4) Read online

  Fire

  King

  Dragons & Demis

  J. S. Striker

  Copyright 2021 by J. S. Striker - All rights reserved.

  In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher.

  All rights reserved.

  Respective authors own all copyrights not held by the publisher.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  NEXT IN SERIES

  HUNTED SHIFTERS COMPLETE SERIES

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  Author Bio

  Chapter 1

  There were too many voices in his head, and none of them held any appeal in the least.

  How much is that? Is it worth my time?

  I’m the best around here, and you shouldn’t be seeking anyone else. You should buy me a drink.

  Damn it! I’m so late! Why did I drink all night when I wanted to make a good impression?

  He’s so late. Why did I agree to this when I should be stuffing my face at home?

  Hot damn. That’s one hot woman. She should be lucky to meet me.

  Will he find out? I don’t want him to find out. I need him to buy me that ring.

  I look good. I better get that job and that office view.

  Rax Evans dissected it in his mind, a jumble of words that gave him a pounding headache but eventually made sense. Every single one of them pointed to one conclusion: that the people on this side of the city were pretty egotistic, though that shouldn’t have been new to him. The Upper East Side was full of wealthy pricks who thought they were better than anyone else, their bank accounts overflowing and their head raring how to get more, even if that meant stepping on others. There were exceptions, good thoughts that floated in the air. But that wasn’t what he was there for.

  “Any luck?”

  The voice in his earpiece was low but louder than the ones in his head. He clicked it.

  “None. Why am I here again with these people that are obsessed with themselves?”

  Alis Monroe chuckled, tickled by the question. “Because you’re unique, so you’re the most helpful.”

  “I object to that. I’m pretty damn amazing, but everyone’s unique and helpful.”

  “True. Now stop talking and use your demigod powers.”

  “Fine. Stop talking about powers because they’re not powers. They’re abilities. And I’m not supposed to exist here.”

  Not like Alis the vampire should exist there, either, but Rax supposed a demigod was a different matter altogether—the secret of secrets and non-existent, as far as most humans and supernatural creatures were concerned.

  He took a sip of his scotch, the flavor strong but pleasant as it coated his tongue. In the lobby of the fancy hotel where he was pretending to wait for a date, he kept his gaze on the floor, presenting the image of a man who casually minded his business. But he was already busy sifting through the voices again, a giant pain in the ass that crowded in and made it impossible to hear his own musings.

  Oh, my. This is the best place I’ve been in my entire life!

  How is this is the best place in the city? I’m unimpressed.

  Must not eat today. Must stay on my diet.

  No-show. Guy is an asshole.

  Another sip of his drink and he flicked his gaze up…there, to his right: a man in a trench coat, hurrying out the swinging glass doors. Rax was the no-show, a bait trap set that they hoped would lead them to one of their cold cases.

  He stood up, keeping his gait relaxed, then quickening his steps outside the hotel. The voices changed the moment he ran, but still jumbled in his head like a broken faucet gushing water—relentless, as he pursued the suspect in broad daylight. The scattered crowd made it harder to navigate but easier to blend in, which he did when the suspect glanced back before entering a clothing shop.

  Inside, he was greeted with emptiness, instinctively Rax headed to the back door. As expected, it was a shortcut to a smaller road, leading to more fancy shops, where guides were already ushering a few select tourists in line. He stayed squeezed in between columns, the trench coat missing from his sight. But he wasn’t a pro at this for nothing, and it didn’t take him long to spot the man’s figure and burgundy-colored hair, in need of a touch-up. The man slipped in between two buildings, disappearing once more.

  Knowing where that one led to, he took the opposite route, circling the other buildings until he came to where the man should exit. In the wait, the voices nattered on.

  That necklace’s a steal. I should buy it.

  This place is overpriced and pretentious as fuck. I should’ve gone to Miami.

  I’m going to be so broke when I return home.

  There was so much worry and judgment in the air that it was starting to test his patience. He visualized a hammer smashing the ruminations away, trying to refocus on his task. Minutes later, a figure stepped out between the two buildings’ exit, Rax moved as he yanked the man’s shirt and dragged him out of there. He was so quick that it would’ve been a blur to witnesses, and he was quicker when he took out Mr. Jumper, his favorite device. A flick on, and he could feel energy sucking him and the man in.

  Seconds later, they were out of Soho and in an alley in Manhattan, where the entrance was blocked by none other than Alis…in a trench coat. Rax grinned.

  “You look like shit.”

  “I look like I’m hiding from the sun, which I am,” Alis shot back, tucking his blond hair further under his matching hat. “That’s the suspect?”

  On cue, the man in Rax’s grasp attempted to lurch forward but was stopped by Rax’s death grip. Words flowed by, a mix that had him frowning.

  “Shut up, Alis. You’re too loud.”

  Alis gave him a look. “I don’t have blockers, you know.”

  “White walls. Come on, now.”

  Fine. Thinking of white walls. And blue walls. And green walls…

  The smartass had Rax sighing, but the wall thoughts were helpful, allowing him to segregate the other one.

  Don’t tell them anything. I’m dead.

  Passing the struggling man off to Alis, Rax bowed slightly. The extra gesture confusing the man.

  “You’re Rick Mortem, the man I’ve made an appointment with. I would like to apologize for being late and surmised this would be a more appropriate setting for a meeting.”

  Die, you bastard.

  “Let me go,” the man spit out instead, glaring daggers at him. But Alis’s sharp nail at his rib stilled him. “Who are you?”

  Rax smiled serenely. “We’re just a bunch of nice people, out to do the world some good. Isn’t that right, Monroe?”

  “That’s right, Evans. My pal here’s so nice that he plays
with unicorns in his spare time.”

  A snort came from outside the alley, then flutters of their acquaintance’s amusement before the woman sobered up. Jememiah Kai, dragon shifter extraordinaire—and the only one in their team who also came from his world—rolled her eyes, but her stance was pretty clear.

  Hurry up, Rax. We don’t have all day.

  Ignoring her, Rax tilted his head. “Monroe’s right. We just have a few questions regarding your whereabouts, buddy. Can you tell us where you were last Thursday?”

  Fairy club.

  “At home, minding my business. Let me go.”

  “I see,” Rax murmured. “And what have you been doing?”

  Abducting fairies, what else? That bunch needed to be taught a lesson—and taught many other things.

  “Watching TV, you dumbass. Let. Me. Go.”

  “It’s not nice to call us names, Rick, especially after the special attention we took to track you down.” Rax stepped closer, stopping only inches away from the man as they looked at each other. “And it’s not nice to lie about fairies because there are a few nice ones in that bunch.”

  Shock cruised in the man’s expression, but he must’ve been too angry to control his thoughts as more flowed out.

  I’ll kill all of you. I’ll skin you alive like I did that fairy Thursday, and I’ll hear you scream just like she did—

  A second later, the man screamed, muffled by Alis’s hand. Rick’s arm lay limply at his side, fingers dislocated. It wasn’t enough, but Rax couldn’t afford to kill this one…yet.

  “Thank you for cooperating and telling us about the fairies,” he mused, his tone unchanging. But he was already raging inside at the knowledge, imagining how much this man had enjoyed the skinning. “We know you’re involved with other things, including kidnapping and smuggling, so you might as well come clean and tell us.”

  “Or what? You’ll kill me? I know nothing.”

  I’ll kill you. I’ll fucking kill all of you.

  “But I just want the name of your boss.”

  At that, a flicker of fear entered the man’s gaze, covered up quickly. But the ponderings shifted, rushing and tumbling, hammering in Rax’s brain.

  Blank thoughts. Shit. White walls. Don’t think. Don’t let this man—

  “You can try with the white walls, but it’s better to reveal the boss’s name now.”

  “Or what?” the man hissed.

  Rax glanced at Alis, who braced himself and nodded. Rax smiled.

  Then he let his energy surge out and pierced Rick’s so-called white walls, with Alis keeping a tight lid on the man’s screams.

  It should’ve been a piece of cake to read people’s minds, to revel in the power that no one could keep a secret from him—and it was a piece of cake back then, when his world was simple and he could do so as he pleased. That was the past, one that was a complex maze of choice and circumstance.

  Once upon a time, Rax had been Raxirim of the Great Tribes, a boy in the demi world living his dream…until he wasn’t, and he was running away to the human world to keep himself alive. It hadn’t been so bad adjusting to humans and getting his groove on with the patrol team, who made sure their existence was kept clean in the world they didn’t belong in. That had been powerful, being able to decipher who were the great liars and who the honest ones were, turning on his skill at will, and turning it off when it had no use. Then came the great ruin, when a demigod had committed a sin and had caused the gods to turn their wrath on the demi world and destroy parts of it. It turned his old home into a shadow of its colorful existence, took away most of the demigod’s abilities, including his. Now Rax could only read minds partially. That was fine, too.

  Then came the restoration, as some demigods decided to find ways to bring color back and right the wrongs—and that was where the complication started for him.

  Whereas he could turn thoughts off at will before, it was a case of thought after thought this time, all meshed in from different sources. That was how it was while he’d questioned Rick, pushing his mind to the edge of breaking but not quite destroying the man. They’d gotten nowhere with that, as Rick could only give them one name: The Boss, the leader of a crime ring that specialized in sex trafficking supernatural creatures. Anonymous. Nameless. An obsession over the years, one kept in the backburner when their old leads had been a dead end. Rick was supposed to be the restart, but that was a bust.

  And now his pounding headache was worse.

  Back in their patrol headquarters, masked as a law office, Rax stood in his office room, taking items out of his pocket. Mr. Jumpy, able to return him to that alley no matter where he was. Mr. Laser, who shot laser beams at enemies without needing bullets. Last but not least was the item they took from Rick, their last clue: dried flowers, a sparkling sunset color that he knew only grew near his old home.

  “Alis took the guy to our prison warehouse. The rest have left to unwind for the weekend.”

  Jememiah stood outside his office room, not coming in even when he crooked a finger. Her eyes were on the knickknacks displayed on his table and in a glass case, mostly fancy items he’d assembled over the years. But they all served a purpose, and they were all powered by energies from different demigods he’d met along the way—not all willingly, but that was the power of negotiation rather than blind force. Information was a good thing to trade for energy, and he got his devices functioning better in the end.

  “That’s good, Jem. Aren’t you going out with them, party girl?”

  She shook her head, glancing around once more. For the first time, he detected a nervous shuffle, baffling him as the dragon shifter had always been the confident type. Her mind had a thin wall, carefully erected. “No. I came in here because of your look.”

  “My good looks?”

  She was pretty with her dark hair and often intense gaze, but not his type. To his relief, she rolled her eyes.

  “No. I meant you had the look of a man who recognized that.”

  Ah, he should’ve known. Rax held up the dried flowers and shrugged. “Maybe. But it’s not like I have access back to the demi world. Only dragons such as yourself can cross or take us in and out…”

  “About that…”

  “Hmm?”

  “I know I’ve only been with the team for a few months, but I noticed you’re pretty open to negotiations.”

  “It depends on what the other party has to offer.”

  “And I’m guessing you need access to the demi world, which I may be able to grant. For a price.”

  This was getting more bizarre, but at least it took his mind off the headache. Rax straightened.

  “Speak your intentions, Jem. Do you want to sleep with me? Find you a mate?”

  “Jesus, no. I need your cooperation on something, in exchange for…something.”

  “What?”

  Just as he asked, energy flitted in his senses, mixing with Jememiah’s nerves. His spine stiffened. A second later, the source came into view, stepping into the office as Jememiah stepped to the side—a motion so smooth that he knew it was planned. Rax peered at the pale-haired, rust-eyed man, with the hard lines of his mouth and an aura that gave off shudders. No one knew that this man—demigod, really—was one of the most powerful in the demi world and had once vowed never to step into any other world, but Rax supposed things had changed since this man had married a fairy...in secret, of course, since that was forbidden and all.

  “In exchange for not killing you for putting trackers on every one of us,” Rufus of the Outlands intoned, voice calm. Calmer than when they’d first met, anyway, but there had been a war back then.

  “So you found that,” Rax muttered, accepting it. Moving on because it was better not to play dumb. “All right, point made. I helped you in your war, so we’re even.”

  “You still need Jem’s help crossing to the demi world, don’t you?”

  “Sure.” Rax smiled. Limited access didn’t mean zero access, but they didn’t need to know th
at. “So what’s the second exchange?”

  “Your services. I want you to track down my sister and her dragon.”

  Chapter 2

  The crack gaped at her with a twinkle in its black surface, a mirror-like glaze that she was sick and tired of looking at. But Lizbeth of the Outlands looked at it, taking it in for what it was: one of the few things wrong in the demi world, which had once been filled with green fields, colorful flowers, and just non-black, gorgeous landscapes everywhere. Sure, demigods were a force to be reckoned with, either staying in their territory or terrorizing others. But they lived in freedom, their world big enough to not cross paths with each other, mostly at peace.

  Old life, Liz. Get over it.

  She shook the memory off, redirecting her mind to new ones. There had been differences since the crack had first appeared, turning the once-dark lands half-color, half-dark. At some point, more vibrant colors had come back, with the crack spanning the demiworld breaking off into sub-branches and streaking wherever they pleased. Then, just a few months ago, most of the original colors were restored, but not in the way she liked—because the main crack had gotten wider, streaking in areas close to her homes and giving her a very bad vibe.

  As if responding to her moody reflections, the surface gleamed, then blasted out bubbles that landed all over the grounds. The grass turned black instantly, imitating the black lines bleeding off the crack itself. Quietly, Liz jumped away from bubbles about to land on her feet, not wanting her skin to melt off. Curiosity had her letting more of her energy slither out, toeing the line of the crack. Pain hit her like a hammer, forcing her to yank the energy back and take a deep inhale.

  Right. Bad idea.

  Muted grunts came from her right, so she glanced in that direction. Her dragon servant—or dragon partner, because she loathed the idea of a childhood friend being a servant—was still busy fighting arm-to-arm with a creature that didn’t exist before the great ruin. This one was made purely of rocks, large enough to be considered a giant, and was hundreds of pounds of blank aggression, attacking Kinto Kai for merely existing. Kinto remained calm, his moves efficient. His body was scaled from head to toe, the perfect armor to their plan.