Fireblood Dragon: Fire In His Blood Part 8

Shot at me.

Bile churning in my throat, I gaze down at the landscape below. We're high in the air, Kael circling over the ruins of Old Dallas. From up here, the crumble of buildings is peaceful and pretty, in a disorganized sort of way. They look like children's blocks that have taken a tumble, not a scattered ruin of a city. Greenery snakes over the jagged edges of the streets, crawling over railings and filling in cracks, messing up the perfect lines of the old highways. From up here, it's kind of neat...if you ignore the fact that I'm dangling-naked-from the claws of a killer dragon over a thousand feet into the air.

As it is, I just want to know where he's taking me and how I'm going to get home again.

We fly for a while, until my empty, churning stomach starts to protest. I look up at Kael's draconic face, trying to gauge his mood. His jagged teeth are still curled in a half snarl, as if ready to attack. His eyes are still fully black.

So we're still not good...but my stomach is also not good. I think of the soldiers, and the way he's treated me in comparison to them. He's been nothing but caring to me, even when his eyes are black.

I pat his foreleg, deciding to take a chance. "I need down, Kael. Please."

He glances down at me, dragon eyes whirling with emotion.

"Down, please. I know you don't understand me, but I want down." I point at the nearest building down below. It's busted up and missing a lot of windows, but I don't care. It's a place to set down.

He begins to circle it, descending, and I feel a surge of relief. I glance up, and it seems like his eyes are leaching slowly to gold, and so I stroke his scales and murmur about how happy this makes me, keeping my voice soothing as we move closer to the building. It's a mess, of course. Just about every building in Old Dallas is. The top floor has caved in, revealing a maze of walls and a suite of rooms and desks, all destroyed and overgrown with vines. Some sort of penthouse office? I don't care. I just want down.

Kael picks a spot and descends, flattening out his wings to ease our landing, then tucks them against his body. There's an enormous hole in the roof, and he moves down into it. We thump onto the office floor a moment later, my head bouncing against his chest scales. He extends his foreleg and ever so gently releases me.

I wobble for a few steps. Okay, more like stagger. But I'm on solid ground, and that's something. I can breathe easier. I look over at Kael, and his eyes are still swirling too close to black, his triangular ears p.r.i.c.ked alert, teeth exposed in his snarl. His tail lashes wildly.

Still furious.

I have to calm him before I can relax. I raise a hand and slowly move closer to him again. "You can relax now, big guy. No one's here. I promise."

His black gaze focuses on me, and his tail lashes a little less roughly than before. The big head lowers toward my extended hand, as if seeking my touch.

"I'll touch you," I say in a soothing voice. "But I need that black to leave your eyes. Can you do that?"

He b.u.t.ts his head against my hand, movements jerky.

I pull back, alarmed. "Calm, okay?"

The eyes focus on me again, and then, as I watch, they flick to the gold-on-gold. Just briefly, but I know it's in there.

"Good," I soothe. "That's real good. You don't want to hurt me, right? Claudia's your friend. You're just a little wigged out that the others came after us with guns." Well, came after me with guns. "You thought they were going to hurt me and so you went into protection mode, which is great. But now we're safe and you can relax, I promise." I know he can't understand what I'm saying, but the sound of my voice seems to be helping. His eyes are flicking between black and gold still, but now they're more gold than black. "We're okay. Claudia's safe now. Kael's safe."

I keep speaking in low, soothing tones, making sure to repeat our names to try and anchor him. I have no idea if it'll work, but his eyes are slowly going completely gold, and this time, when he pushes his snout against my hand, seeking my touch, his movements are calm.

The awful tension inside me relaxes. I stroke my hand over his scaly nose, continuing to murmur soft words of comfort. He doesn't reach out to grab me with his claws again. That's good. That's progress. His tail has slowed its las.h.i.+ng, and when he leans in and nuzzles at my neck, I know he's back to himself.

"There we go," I tell him, pleased at both his response and the fact that I was able to help. I feel like I'm in control of the situation for a change, and it's not the worst feeling in the world.

The dragon's giant head noses me again, and then he sniffs deep. His enormous, serpentine tongue snakes out and licks my arm, and it hurts like the d.i.c.kens. Right. I've been shot. Wincing, I pull away and study the wound. Just a graze, but it needs to be cleaned. And, you know, not licked by a dragon. No telling what that'll do to an infection.

"We need water," I tell him. Maybe there's some in this building, if he's feeling calm enough to let me explore.

He licks my arm again, this time careful to avoid my wound. I s.h.i.+ver at the simple affection, because I shouldn't like it. I really shouldn't. Then he whuffs at my hair again, and the growl in his throat turns to a low thrum. Yeah, I know where this is going. He's going to get turned on, and then I'll have to calm him down for entirely different reasons. I grab his nose with both hands and force him to look at me. "Can you change to human form?"

He gazes at me, eyes amber on gold, the thrumming in his throat continuing.

At least he's happy. "I wish you spoke English," I tell him, and then try to figure out which mimed gesture will make him realize that we need to chat. I put a hand to my mouth and gesture for talking, then make a two-legged man with my fingers and have it walk. "Two legs? Yes?"

Kael nuzzles at my hands, and the low rumbling in his throat grows more affectionate by the moment.

"Jeez. Okay, well, if you find me some water and let me get cleaned up, I swear I'll let you kiss me as much as you want."

He tilts his big head. Then his back arches and he flashes into human form once more. The golden-skinned man crouches on the ground and rises to his feet, all lithe movements and gorgeous body.

I narrow my eyes at him. "You sure you don't speak English, big guy?"

His amber eyes watch me with warmth and not a little amorousness. "Clau-dah," he murmurs in a husky voice, reaching out to touch me.

And I s.h.i.+ver at the promise in that.

"Water first," I tell him. "I'll be a lot more amenable when I'm clean."

10.

CLAUDIA.

Trying to convince an overprotective dragon-man that you aren't going to run away again is not the easiest task. Then again, nothing about communicating with Kael is easy. Every time I wander away a few feet, he hovers over me, as if he doesn't trust me not to bolt again. I can't blame the guy-because I did bolt-but it grows frustrating to have the big head looming over me constantly. He doesn't understand that I'm stuck with him, like it or not.

I can't stop thinking about the soldiers from Fort Dallas. They'd shot at me when Kael hadn't let me go. Were they under instructions by the mayor to kill me if they couldn't bring me back? Or were they acting on their own? I don't know, and until I know that answer, It's not safe for me to go home.

Right now, Kael's the only option I've got, even if it means I don't get much alone time. Or, you know, pants. I'd be happy with either.

I spend my time exploring this new building, or at least the floor we're on. I'm pretty sure Kael won't let me near a stairwell again. That's all right, too. I sorta burned that privilege. This looks like an office building, and it also looks like it's in relatively good shape, so the scavenger in me is hoping to find something useful, even if it's not pants.

I'd really, really like to not be nude anymore. Or shoes. Shoes would be nice. I think mournfully of the long, torn dress that was left behind at the last building. It could have been a sarong. Oh well. I'll work with what I've got, and right now, I've got a big empty building. So I pick through heaps of junk and pull open doors, looking around with interest. Kael's not letting me go anywhere, either; every door I open, his big head is there blocking out the sunlight. It's a little irritating, but I work with it, since he's not leaving anytime soon.

And really, I don't know that I want him to go anywhere anymore. If the humans have guns, I guess I'm throwing my lot in with the dragons. Or at least this dragon.

Eventually I find a bathroom. Success! It looks mostly whole-no gaps in the walls, no breaks in the floor. One of the stalls has been knocked down, and there's a big hole in the ceiling, but that's all right. I turn to Kael. "I need a few moments alone in here, okay?"

He noses my hair.

Yeah. Okay. We go through a series of pantomimes involving our very small vocabulary and lots of gestures. Eventually, I think he figures out that I need a few minutes to myself, and that I can't go anywhere. When I carefully shut the bathroom door, he doesn't bugle with anger or freak the f.u.c.k out on the other side. It's quiet. Relieved, I check the bathroom out and take a few moments to use the facilities. Once I'm done, I head for the big mirror behind the sinks. It's cracked and dirty, but I can still see my reflection...and I almost wish I hadn't. Man, I look rough.

The face that stares back at me is human, but barely. I look disheveled and small, and for a moment I think I'm looking at Amy. It's been so long since I've seen my reflection that I no longer recognize myself. I'm not the bright-eyed teenager I used to be. The woman that stares across from me is haunted-eyed and thin, a little sc.r.a.ppy, and a lot beat up.

It's not Amy, though, and my heart hurts. My sister. I hope she's okay.

The girl in the mirror's eyes well up, and I swipe at my cheeks before the tears can fall. It just leaves another dirty mark on my skin. I'm covered in enormous bruises and a thin layer of dirt. I have scratches all over, too, and my hair is a tangled snarl of leaves and drywall dust. I touch one enormous sc.r.a.pe and wince. It's a d.a.m.n shame I don't have water to wash with or drink. The toilets were dry, and I don't even know that these sinks work. So much plumbing in Old Dallas has gone to c.r.a.p without proper maintenance.

On impulse, I reach over and turn one of the rusty k.n.o.bs on the row of sinks. The pipes in the walls groan and clank, and I hear Kael snort and s.h.i.+ft his big dragon body on the other side, no doubt ready to rescue me. After a moment, water gurgles and spits forth from the faucet. It's brown and cloudy at first, but then turns brilliantly clear, and I gasp with delight. Water. Flowing, delicious water. I'm so thirsty. I cup my hands under the flow to drink, then flinch at how nasty my hands are. I need to clean up first- The door to the bathroom flies open. It slams into the opposite wall, the subway tiles crumbling under the force. A human-sized Kael stalks in, his eyes black, teeth bared.

"It's okay," I tell him, taking a step backward. "It's just water. I promise. Nothing's wrong."

He looks at me, then at the spraying tap. His nose twitches, and it's almost comical to see him realize that he's panicking over nothing. He leans over the water, sniffs it again, and then straightens. "Clau-dah," he rumbles in a deep voice.

"Right here," I tell him, crossing my arms over my chest with amus.e.m.e.nt. "Not letting all that killer water get me."

He reacts to my smile with one of his own and moves toward me with a possessive prowl that makes my skin p.r.i.c.kle in ways that are not entirely driven by fear. The big, clawed hand brushes down my arm. "Clau-dah Kael."

"Yeah, yeah. Clau-dah's not going anywhere without Kael," I say, s.h.i.+vering at the gentle touch. I step aside and gesture at the water. "Clau-dah just wants a drink and a quick bath, if that's all right." I take another step toward the water and mimic was.h.i.+ng, and when he doesn't stop me, I put my hands back under the tap.

Oh G.o.d, it feels amazing. The water is cool and crisp, and I scrub at my hands and arms to clean them off, and when the filth is gone, I cup my hands and drink mouthful after mouthful until I can't drink anymore. There's a rack of old paper towels nearby, the stack puffy and warped from exposure to the elements, but I grab a few anyhow and wet them down, then scrub at my filthy body.

In the mirror, I can see Kael watching me with interest. After a moment, he moves forward and cups a handful of water, then gently pours it down my arm.

"Yup," I tell him, doing my best to ignore his movements. I s.h.i.+ver because it's that weird mixture of fear and enjoyment again. I both love and hate that he wants to take care of me. I hate that I'm so lonely that even a dragon's attentions are exciting. I need to stay focused, though. I have water here, and I want to finish my quick bath before I get interrupted. "I'm cleaning off, because I'm gross."

He watches me, then touches my wet arm, brus.h.i.+ng his fingertips over my skin. "Clau-dah."

I freeze, pausing in my scrubbing. The tone of his voice makes my hackles rise in awareness. Gooseb.u.mps p.r.i.c.kle all over me. There had been an utterly husky note in his voice just then. I glance over at him, but he simply reaches for the paper towels I hold in my hand and begins to gently wash my arm. His strokes over my skin are soft, loving, and he's careful to avoid my wounds.

I let him, because what else can I do? Sure, he's a little, er, randy, but he's been kind to me, and protective. Pus.h.i.+ng him away with an angry 'no' when he's being gentle might test his patience and send his eyes to black again.

And okay, maybe I'm weird, but his touch is actually really nice. His fingers are warm, and his caresses skim over my arm in a way that doesn't feel grabby, but appreciative. Exploratory. When it's clear he's not going to grab at anything I don't want grabbed, I relax and let him continue. When he brushes the wet paper towels over my shoulders, I turn to give him better access to my back, lifting my filthy hair to help him out. "Thank you," I murmur, watching him in the mirror.

He's got a ma.s.sive hard-on. I mean, of course he does. The man always seems to have a hard-on. But the look on his fierce face is intent, as if he's determined to be the best shoulder-cleaner ever. It's charmingly endearing.

Strangely enough, I'm not afraid of him anymore. Kael has been nothing but gentle and attentive, and despite his obvious arousal, he hasn't tried to do anything about it. Even the bathing is innocent so far. For some reason, he views me as his, and he's determined to take care of me. There are worse situations to be in.

His fingers slide down the curve of my back, and I s.h.i.+ver at the small touch, my skin p.r.i.c.kling with awareness.

Did I say the bathing was innocent? Because it seems to have taken a bit of a turn...

Strangest of all, I find his touch...intriguing. Pleasant. My nipples are hard, and I s.h.i.+ft in place, a little uncomfortable with my body's response. Am I getting aroused at his touch? Dear lord, what is wrong with me? He's a dragon and half mad. I'm pretty sure he's killed more people than I have squirrels. He's definitely the enemy. And yet...his touch makes me feel breathless and squirmy. Like I can't wait to see if he's going to move his hand lower, and what would happen if he did.

Maybe it's just been a really long time since someone's touched me with kindness and that's why I'm getting all turned on. Or maybe it's some sort of perverse dragon version of Stockholm syndrome.

Kael is oblivious to my worried thoughts. He dips the paper towels into the running water again and dabs at my opposite arm. As he does, he makes that low, thrumming sound in his throat...and then pauses. I look over, and he's gazing down at the long, angry red line of my gunshot wound. It's not much more than a deep sc.r.a.pe, but as I watch, his eyes flare to black again, and I know he's getting upset.

"It's okay, Kael. It doesn't hurt, really." I put a bright smile on my face. It does hurt, but him losing his s.h.i.+t could potentially 'hurt' a lot worse. "It's barely anything."

His eyes flick from black to gold, gaze settling on me.

"I'm fine. Truly." When his eyes go dark again, I take a chance. I touch his chin and force him to look me in the eye. "I need you to be calm. I promise I'm fine."

"Clau-dah." His voice is ragged, upset.

"I know. Clau-dah's fine, I swear." My mind plays back the image of him biting the soldier in half, over and over again. Why does my small wound matter when he chomped someone else in two? Why am I so important? Is it because I'm a girl? Or is there something deeper here? I don't know what to think.

Kael bends over to clean my wound, and his touch is utterly tender. He takes great care to make sure he doesn't hurt me, and when he's done, he leans in and gently brushes his mouth over the wound. Then he looks up at me, as if apologizing for it. His eyes have gone black again.

"See?" I tell him shakily. "No problem at all."

He trails his fingers over my now-clean shoulder and presses his mouth to it again. This time, his eyes flick back to a deep, deep gold and remain focused on me.

I can't help it. I gasp at the bolt of pleasure that rushes through me. Maybe it's the intimacy of the moment, or maybe there's something in the air, but I'm tingling at his touch. My p.u.s.s.y feels hot with need, and my b.r.e.a.s.t.s tighten in response. And I'm suddenly wet between my thighs and aching deep in my core.

As I watch, his nostrils flare.

Before I can react, Kael pushes me back against the sinks, the low growl in his throat wild.

I give a little whimper as my backside slams into the marble counter, and then he's pus.h.i.+ng between my thighs, the hard length of his c.o.c.k rubbing up against my p.u.s.s.y.

And it feels...good. I'm not scared, I'm aroused.

Oh G.o.d, I'm really messed up in the head, aren't I? Totally sick for enjoying the way it feels when he growls low in his throat and rubs his c.o.c.k against my aching p.u.s.s.y. Crazy for leaning forward and sc.r.a.ping my nipples against his chest. Doing that feels amazing and sends hot little shocks through my body, and I can't help but suck in a breath. He's got my thighs spread wide, his hands clenching my hips, and it would take nothing for him to slam into me and f.u.c.k the daylights out of me with that ma.s.sive d.i.c.k.

His face looms close to mine, and he cups my jaw, forcing my gaze to his. His eyes are black with need. "Clau-dah," he grits out, and rubs his enormous length along my slick folds. It's a question, and he wants an answer.

He's leaving it up to me. If I say his name, he'll take that as a.s.sent, and he'll f.u.c.k me right here, right now. And...then what? Discard me like the soldier? Snap me in half once his anger is sated and let the pieces fall to the ground?

I can't reconcile his two halves. There's the kind, tender half that's almost human...and the crazed dragon with the black eyes. I don't know which one I get if we have s.e.x. I don't know which one I get after s.e.x. Do I lose all appeal for him once his itch has been scratched?

It might be in my best interests to never scratch that itch, no matter how much I might want to.

So I shake my head. "No."

Kael makes an almost-human grunt and pushes away from me, leaving me weak-kneed against the sink. I should be relieved. I should. Instead I just feel...empty.

KAEL.

It is progress. I must remind myself of that.