by Caris Roane
He’d made one mistake a year ago with a rider trainee. He’d been more than drunk when he’d followed her into her cave apartment and bedded her.
For some reason, whenever he thought of Emma Brier, he smelled lilacs. Her perfume had intoxicated him.
But she wasn’t what he needed in his life.
Just before he made his left to head to his apartment, he caught sight of a familiar, stoic, massive figure, all in black, at the end of the hall, dead on.
Shit.
Santos oversaw the dragon caravans, as well as the Arranfar Defense Force at Blue Lake South.
He had a bad feeling as Miguel slowly lifted his arm and waved him forward.
At almost the same moment, the alarms sounded.
The resulting scurry of bodies heading back into their offices confirmed what he suspected: His day’s work wasn’t over.
Yet he wasn’t surprised. Just before he’d landed, he’d caught a whiff in his broad dragon nostrils of the unique smell of red sand which often came out of the northeast and Magi country.
Anything from the northeast could spell disaster.
As tired as he was, he’d ignored it until now. Then he remembered that the on-call dragons had been sent elsewhere. Logan had been summoned west and Noah to the north. If there was a looming battle, like he suspected, he’d be the one who would have to go out. But damn he was tired.
A long string of expletives moved through his head like knives pitched one after the other.
He gestured to the staffer on his right indicating he would speak with his boss.
Both delegates slowed then stopped. Unless ordered, they wisely stayed out of Santos’s way. He didn’t blame them. Miguel Santos ran a tight ship and didn’t hesitate dressing down any of his staff for even the smallest infraction.
Liam had known Miguel for decades. Before Santos had taken over as Field Marshall of the ADF at this end of the lake, he’d been a lead caravan driver and warrior. He’d fought his battles against the Magi and driven caravans through horrendous winds that topped the higher reaches of the two-hundred mph range. The man was a legend.
By the time he reached the Field Marshall’s massive office, and saw the drawn look on Santos’s face, Liam knew the score. “How long have we got before they make lake-fall?”
“Fifteen minutes, give or take. And I’m sorry to say, but you’ve got a virgin on this one. She’s well-trained. I’ve seen her in action. She’ll serve you well.”
“Fine. I’ll be ready.” What else could he say? He just wished his tailbone didn’t feel like it had fragmented and was slicing him up every which way.
He wondered suddenly if the rider would be Emma. He knew she’d graduated with about all the honors a rider could receive. He also knew she was now on the rotation.
But what were the odds he’d be her first?
~ ~ ~
By the time the alarms sounded, Emma was already back at her HQ apartment waiting for Jane to locate the cape. She arrived a few minutes later her complexion high.
“You won’t believe who’s on deck.” She was empty-handed as she crossed the room to the closet. “Liam.”
“That’s not possible. He just got back from a caravan run. It’ll be too much for him.”
“I know. But I checked with scheduling and all the other lead dragons are out.” Jane opened the closet door and began rooting around.
“I thought both Logan and Noah were on call.”
Bent over, Jane glanced at Emma over her shoulder. “Santos had to send each of them out. Logan headed west about three hours ago and I don’t know where Noah is.”
“Haven’t you found the cape yet?”
Jane went back to her hunting expedition and a few seconds later called out. “Got it.”
She returned with a hideous red thing that tied around the neck. She shook it out several times.
“You’re kidding. It has ruffles. What if Santos finds me wearing this? He’ll have my head. You know how he is about uniforms, about everything really.”
“It’s the best I’ve got.”
Emma didn’t really have a choice. She slid it on then groaned at how she looked. “Give me a basket and I’m Little Red Riding Hood.”
Jane’s lips twisted into a grimace.
Emma glanced at her. “What?”
“Do you know what I’ve always suspected about you? That you have no idea how pretty you are. Because I swear you look like a princess in that thing.”
Emma lifted a brow. “I’m a warrior.”
“A warrior-princess, a dragon-goddess divine.”
Emma rolled her eyes. “With a red ruffled flounce around her shoulders. I look ridiculous.”
“At least it’s hiding your boobs.”
“You’re right and that’s all that matters. I mean what are the chances Santos will even see me.”
The alarm still sounded, though it had fallen to a diminished level to keep everyone alert but not freaked out.
The com on her shoulder sounded. She pressed the device. “Emma here.”
“Santos wants you. In his office. Now.”
She glanced at Jane and mouthed the word ‘seriously’.
Aloud, she said, “On my way.” She could hear the nearly inaudible ding that meant the communication had ended. Not everyone could hear it. She could.
As she moved toward the door, Jane caught her arm. When Emma stopped and met her gaze, there were tears in Jane’s eyes. Next to Logan, Jane was her closest friend. “You’ve done your work. Congratulations and ride that dragon hard.”
Emma forgot about the uniform mishap or the likelihood Liam would be her partner. She allowed herself this moment. She was a dragon-rider and had one of the top graduating scores of all time. Her eyes suddenly burned as she gripped Jane’s forearms. “Couldn’t have done it without you.”
“Well, that is definitely true. You would have flunked out the first week.” She laughed.
Emma joined her.
With a squeeze of those arms, Emma pulled away and began the march all the way to Santos’s office.
Fortunately for her, the alarm was keeping everyone in their office so they couldn’t see her unfortunate cape. The moment the red sand began to blow, the entire organization scrambled to update all their information: Troop positions, delays from other territories, dragons that could be called in.
Her boots had a firm sound as she moved up the last hall to her boss’s office.
Field Marshal Miguel Santos was a good man and had at one time been a first-tier dragon in the ADF. He now served to coordinate just about everything at HQ including the training of dragon-riders. Still, it was unusual to be summoned to his office before a first battle-run.
The double doors were open, so she walked straight in. She didn’t see Liam at first, but she could smell him and for a moment, her knees almost buckled: burning driftwood and charcoal.
But that meant it was true and Liam would be her first.
She thought fate or the dragon gods or whatever were laughing hard right now.
Despite the unsettling nature of the situation, she was a warrior first and completely professional. Like hell she would let Liam’s attitudes toward her affect today’s performance.
She walked in with the confidence of her two years of brutal training. Santos had created the program thirty years ago and to this day had turned out some of the most notable dragon warriors and riders in modern history.
She was proud to have survived the intensive work and ready to begin her first tour of duty.
“Reporting as ordered.”
Santos was a tall man at six-seven. He had thick wavy black hair that he wore clipped short. Though he was over three hundred years old he appeared to be about thirty-five which was typical of their long lives.
He looked her up and down then scowled. “What the hell are you wearing, Rider?”
Emma felt her cheeks warm up, but she lifted her chin in response. “A hazing, sir. No time to make repairs. I’ll
lose the cape during initial mount, if it’s all right with you.” She almost suggested he bring someone else in but thought the better of it. She didn’t want to give him any ideas. This was her first run and she meant to take it.
Over the course of her training, Emma had had very little contact with Santos. Yet, she could tell he was stressed much more than usual.
“Let’s see it, Rider. I want to know what I’m dealing with.”
Her cheeks grew hot. “I’d rather not, Sir.”
“Do as you’re ordered,” he snapped. Again, very much unlike Santos. What was going on?
She averted her gaze and untied the cape. She didn’t take it off completely but let him see the malfunction.
Liam had moved away from the window overlooking the landing area. Apparently, he wanted to know what had happened as well.
Emma didn’t meet his gaze.
For a long moment, she waited.
Liam said nothing but turned back to look out the window once more. In the distance, she heard the muffled sound of the lake churners starting up. During dust and sandstorms, they kept the particles from collecting on the surface of the water. When the layer of dust grew thick enough, it prevented oxygen from getting through and the fish died.
Santos slammed his hand down on the desk. “Do we actually need another seminar on sexual harassment around here? The last thing I need is for Davathorpe to send in a team so we can get properly educated. Again.”
Davathorpe was the capital of the entire continent of Arranfar and where the ruling Council performed its functions. Field Marshall Santos answered to his superiors in the large, northern city.
Emma spoke quickly. “You don’t need to do that. I know the source and I’ll deal with him later. It’s a stupid hazing, nothing more. But I think I should keep the cape on at least to the hangar.”
“You’ll get blasted for this in the ranks.”
She didn’t know how to communicate just how little she cared for gossip among her equals. But she couldn’t help but crack a small smile. She felt that inner part of her harden and grow stronger. “And I’ll deal with that as well.” She paused, then added, “Sir.”
At that, Santos met her gaze dead on then grew very still, dragon still. It was that place that all dragons had where they were close to disappearing from sight. It was even said that some could vanish and reappear at will. Maybe Santos was one of those. “You’ll do. Keep the cape, Rider.”
She tied it up quickly to cover her exposed cleavage. She also registered a warm sensation in the center of her heart. Santos had told she would do. It didn’t get better than that.
He gestured to Liam. “You know Commander Holden.”
She turned in his direction with a formal shift of her booted feet. “Of course. I look forward to working with you, Commander.”
He dipped his chin. His eyes were blood red from coming in from a long flight. He looked exhausted. “Dragon-rider Brier.”
He smelled…wonderful. Smoke, fire, man. A shiver went through her which she chose to ignore. She straightened her shoulders a little more.
Santos addressed her again. “The reason I called you in here before your flight is because I want you working directly with Liam for the next several weeks.”
“What?” Emma was stunned.
Okay, horrified.
Liam finally entered the conversation as he addressed Santos. Apparently, this was news to him as well. “What the hell, Miguel. This isn’t right. This isn’t the way it’s done. You taught us that. It’s part of your core teaching. Constant rotations to keep everyone on their toes.”
Santos rounded his desk and crossed the room on a relatively slow tread to close the doors. The alarm still clanged softly in the distance.
When he headed back, he directed Liam to join Emma. She in turn met Liam’s hostile gaze as he moved in her direction. She didn’t take it personally. The man was beyond tired and she was no doubt the last thing he wanted to deal with: A woman he’d bedded and dumped a year ago.
She had trouble not smiling. She thought somehow it was a fitting punishment for the man since he hadn’t even had the courtesy to speak to her again. His manner of ignoring her after the fact, of often pointedly leaving a room she entered, had made her life hell. Didn’t he realize his behavior shouted that she’d made a nuisance of herself when she hadn’t? Gossip was rampant that she’d been stalking him.
Well, it all fell under the category of things she couldn’t control and now here was a new lovely wrench in the wheel of their non-relationship. But how the hell was she supposed to work with a man who barely acknowledged her existence?
~ ~ ~
Liam felt as though a series of rockets kept landing in Santos’s office and exploding one after the other.
First, it was Emma on her virgin run. How the hell had it happened that he’d be her first mount?
Then Santos had insisted she remove the cape. He wasn’t sure he’d ever forget the sight that followed.
Santos had stared at Emma’s cleavage.
Liam, laced heavily with exhaustion, had done nothing less and had found it difficult to do anything but.
What had swirled through his head had been a series of X-rated images of making love to the woman a year ago. He’d barely kept from throwing wood and finally tore his gaze away from her in an effort to keep his cock in order. He’d done a series of intricate algebraic formulas in his head as well. When that hadn’t worked, he’d pictured a stream of ice water flowing over his groin and shrinking his testicles to the size of walnuts. Finally, he’d calmed down.
He hadn’t been this close to Emma in a long time and he’d forgotten how beautiful she was, with long silky dark brown hair, dark eyes and a warm, peaches-and-cream complexion. He’d worked hard to forget her and what his time with her had been like.
But this last bit, about being assigned to work one-on-one with Emma seemed like an asteroid slamming into the room.
Santos’s nostrils flared. “I’m not going into it now, with either of you. I need you both to trust me and to do as ordered.”
Since he’d spoken with that tone in his voice, Liam pulled his shoulders back. “Yes, Sir.”
“Now go get me some Magi ass. I want them stunned so I can interrogate. As many as you can acquire. I’ll have teams ready in the lake for retrieval. Suffice it to say, our friendly neighbors to the northeast appear to be escalating their intention to take over the world.”
These last words, offered with no specifics, caught Liam’s attention. Coupled with the tension Santos carried in his gait, his posture and the angle of his neck, Liam knew something was building in Arranfar and it wasn’t good.
But their ranks in Blue Lake South, like several other ADF installations around Arranfar, weren’t privy to Intelligence reports or the goings on at the Council in Davathorpe.
“Can I count on you both?” Santos asked.
“Yes, Sir.” Emma spoke the words in unison with Liam.
“Dismissed.”
Liam watched Emma turn sharply on her feet and move swiftly to the door. She drew it wide but held it for him, letting him pass into the hallway first. He moved through but said nothing to her as he launched into levitated flight.
Surprisingly, she caught up with him in two seconds flat then flew beside him in a way that matched his maneuvers. She’d been number one in her class, so he wasn’t surprised. He was just pissed as he hell that Santos was forcing them to pair up.
In addition, he was going into battle as tired as all hell and this was Emma’s first run.
More mental expletives.
There was also something else he couldn’t deny: He’d never been more attracted to Emma than he was right now wearing her absurd, but critically necessary cape, and levitating with a confidence that matched his own.
Yes, she was untried in battle. But he’d had lots of virgin riders throughout his long life and he’d learned the difference between those who would do well and those he wanted to buck off
the moment they mounted.
Emma knew what she was doing.
Given his level of fatigue and that the regiment had no other options but for him to go out and face the enemy, he was grateful.
Pissed. But grateful.
He said nothing more to her as together they flew to the launch hangar. “I’ll be shifting and in flight within seconds. You ready, Commander Brier?”
He glanced at her and she grinned. “Hell, yeah, I am. Don’t hold back, Commander.”
“I won’t. I’ve also got a fatigue situation.”
“I know. You just brought in a two-hundred-dragon caravan. Perfect touch-down, by the way. Gorgeous.”
“Thank you.” He cleared his throat. He didn’t like praise and he definitely wasn’t used to hearing compliments from women like her. Yes, women of worth.
Mostly, his fellow dragon warriors were his solace. Women were transitory bed companions and never more than once. He’d given them up when his wife died eighteen years ago. She’d birthed a dragon and both she and their son had been dead within a few hours.
He’d blamed his genetics.
She’d begged him not to blame himself. She said she’d understood the risks.
But the end had been the same: A single funeral pyre bearing two bodies and one broken heart.
He’d been left alone to grieve.
He’d promised himself he’d never go through that again. Ever.
The moment he entered the hangar, his nostrils flared. “I can smell the red sand thick in the air.”
“That’s not good.”
He stood next to her as her weapons mistress, a petite blond named Jane, handed her a rifle and tranquilizer ammo. She also gave her a handgun.
With some fascination, Liam saw that Emma used her telekinetic ability to pin the rifle against her back and her pistol close to her left side. The weapons appeared as secure as if they had holsters. Again, he was impressed. Not every rider had telekinesis in her arsenal. She also clearly had full control, which meant hundreds of hours of practice no doubt during battle drills to make sure the weapons remained stuck to her body even while a dragon maneuvered in the air with rolls and flips.
