Free The Witch Thief (Harlequin Nocturne) by Lori Devoti Page B

stained bedcover and into the equally stained wall. The room Joarr had booked for the night defined the human term seedy. In fact she was positive all things vile were growing in the carpet.
The dragon, however, seemed impervious to it all.
She slanted her eyes toward him. He was lying on the bed next to her, a soda can balanced on his table-flat stomach and the TV remote in his hand.
After his less-than-veiled comments at the portal, she had really thought he had something more exciting planned than this.
Not that she would have agreed to anything…personal…but this… His unexplainable fascination with a documentary on the sinking of some city in Jamaica almost two hundred years earlier was just insulting.
As the camera panned over a pile of riches pulled out from under the sea, Joarr shook his head and murmured to himself. Amma threw herself back against the disgusting motel-supplied pillow with a huff.
“What are we waiting on?” she asked, lifting her hand. The manacle still shone back at her; she twirled it around and around. She was beginning to like it. Although she could do without the extra length of chain.
Without removing his gaze from the television, Joarr replied, “For something to happen.”
She dropped her free arm over her forehead and stared at the ceiling. She wasn’t good at waiting. “Of course,” she murmured to herself.
There was noise outside the door. Someone was leaning against it.
Joarr turned to glance at her, his eyes bright in his face, telling her to be quiet. He leaped up, his feet landing on the indoor/outdoor carpet with just a whisper of sound.
Something white appeared in the gap between the door and the jamb. Joarr waited, tense. Then suddenly he was gone. One second he was Joarr the man, broad-shouldered and sexy in his all-white outfit, the next he was a dragon. His scales shone silver so bright Amma could see the dingy room reflected off them. He raised his wings, cutting her off from the room’s entrance. To stop her escape, she thought at first, but when he kept his gaze on the door, she realized instead he was protecting her, shielding her like he had in the cavern. Of course then he had caused her sphere to shatter, to spray its magic over them.
Magic. Late, but not too late, she remembered the magic. Power still hung in the room, like smoke in a bar. With Joarr’s attention on the door, she began pulling it in. She had just started to feel rejuvenated when he changed again, picked something up from the floor and turned back to her. Her face innocent and expectant, she redoubled her efforts while taking care to target only the magic that floated freely, to not draw any directly from the male in front of her. He didn’t seem to notice; he was too focused on the sheet of paper in his hand.
The cloud of magic gone, Amma closed her eyes for a second and wiggled the fingers of her free hand behind her back. Magic zipped through her, sizzled at her fingertips. Opening her eyes, she smiled. The power felt good, but it wasn’t enough, not to take care of herself, much less challenge Joarr. Still, it was a start, and she was fairly certain the dragon hadn’t even noticed what she had done. She had to keep it that way. She nodded to the paper in his hand. “What is it?” she asked.
He held it out to her. “Look familiar?”
It was an advertisement for a nightclub, Tunnels. She frowned. “I haven’t exactly been doing a lot of partying.”
He stared at her, then reached for the door. “Let’s go.”
“Wait.” She shook her head. “It’s just a flyer. It was probably shoved under every door here.”
He glanced at the paper in his hand. “I don’t think so. I think it’s an invitation.”
“To what?” She sat up on the mattress and draped the chain attached to her manacle across her lap. “We need to talk. I told you my situation, and you promised to make it worth my while if I stayed with you and helped you find the chalice.” She paused. “I’m not even sure