by Caris Roane
Emma frowned. So, it wasn’t just me. Something’s bugging our fearless leader?
You can say that again.
The hangar loomed and she could feel Liam’s energy begin to diminish. He was preparing for a shift.
As he slowed and entered the building, she sensed his timing, detached from his energy then levitated away from his massive form.
The whole notion that some of her own ancestors had been able to shift as well at one time and could live as both man or woman and dragon, still astonished her. The first time she’d ever seen a shift, her mouth had fallen agape. Maybe it had never closed.
She could have left Liam to his own devices, but as she watched all the black scales shimmy and shake, as the beautiful inherent red iridescence glittered before her eyes, she remained floating in the air watching in awe.
Despite that they were at odds and probably always would be, she couldn’t help but admire the nature and depth of his physical dragon beauty.
What she didn’t understand was why he didn’t shift immediately. Usually, it was a quick flash of movement. Instead, he remained in dragon form, his thick, clawed feet on the cement floor. She glanced around, but there were no support staff in the hangar ready to take care of him. They were probably out on the lake.
She needed to find out if something was wrong.
As she descended and finally put her boots on solid concrete, she saw blood dripping from the top of his long underbelly, not far from what would be his breastbone.
She drew close and had a good look. She stayed with telepathy since given how massive he was she’d have to shout to reach his ears. You’re sliced up, Liam.
No shit and I’m starting to feel it. Thought I’d give my dragon a chance to heal.
She rose high enough in the air so she could look into his large left eye. I’ve had plenty of medical field training. She couldn’t help but grin. I can stitch you up if you like.
She was sure she heard more telepathic grumbling. Not funny. Besides, I’m ready to shift now and you’d better get out of the way.
She took him at his word and levitated to the ceiling corner once more. Her heartrate jumped as she felt his energy soar through the large space.
He became a blur of scales and horns transforming into human arms and legs. Usually, he could shift and keep his uniform with him, but not this time. He was sliced across the chest as he fell to his knees on the cement, completely naked and didn’t move.
She flew back down to him and put her hand on his shoulder. She had a small amount of healing ability and let it flow, but she saw the red puddle growing on the floor. “I’ll call for someone.”
“No. They’ll put me in a hospital bed and run a thousand tests. I’d rather drown in the lake.”
“Can you stand?”
“Yes.” He grunted the word, but he got his feet under him and began to rise.
She caught his arm and helped lift him up. “You can lean on me. I’m stronger than I look and I’m six-one. I’m not about to fall over.”
“I’ll take you at your word.”
He did lean on her and it was a lot of muscle to support, but she expanded her kinetic energy which helped. He thanked her. With one hand pressed to his chest and blood covering his fingers, he began to walk.
“We need a compress.”
As they moved into the hall, she saw the admin offices were deserted just like the hangar. Santos clearly wanted everyone on dragon interrogation duty.
She noticed a shawl hanging on a rack with an assortment of coats. She headed him in that direction, grabbed the shawl and jammed the soft cotton against his wound. He held it to his chest.
She would determine the owner later and make amends, though she doubted anyone would be troubled knowing it was to aid an injured dragon warrior.
“Listen, Emma, I need you to get me out of here. Can you do that? I mean this building. I don’t want to stay here. Can’t explain it and I definitely don’t want to see Santos right now.”
She had no problem with any of it. “I’ve got you. Can you levitate? I think we could get out of here fast if we flew. This walking is for the birds.”
He chuckled then moaned as he lifted into the air a couple of inches off the floor. She levitated with him and she was right. It was much easier. She had her arm around his waist, but she told him to put his head on her shoulder, which he did.
She mentally charted the course then guided them down a couple of back hallways to the employee rec area outside. No one was there. She could hear the boats on the lake and a lot of shouting as the recovery work was being done.
“I’m taking you to my cave. If you remember, it’s not far but it is high. I know we can make it. Just stay with me.”
He shifted to telepathy. I will. Go for it.
She could feel his energy waning by the second. But she’d chosen her cave because of its proximity to HQ. The problem was that it was almost at the top of the five-hundred foot cliff.
She coached him the entire way, murmuring words of encouragement, telling him how far they had to go as the distance shrank.
She was sweating by the time that made her landing. She hurried him inside and to her couch. With a groan, he dropped onto his back, closed his eyes and promptly fell asleep.
She’d forgotten he was fully naked, so she pulled the throw from the back of the sofa and covered him up.
She spent the next several minutes cleaning the wound on his chest and dressing it. He was a strong healer and only mumbled his complaints a couple of times in his sleep.
In an ordinary human, after having flown for hours on a caravan run then battling eleven dragons, he should have smelled like sulphur. Instead, his charred, dragon, and very male scent, struck her all over again.
He was a beautiful man, with thick wavy black hair to his shoulders, a cleft in his chin, strong cheekbones and a firm jaw. His skin had a golden color. He also had a number of tattoos across his upper torso including a rose over his heart, maybe in memory of his deceased wife.
There was little she didn’t know about Liam. She’d taken pains to learn as much as she could about each of the seven elite warrior dragons. Liam’s wife and infant son had both died within hours of what was a tragic birth. The young dragon had shifted more than once during the process creating agony for them both. Just reading about the nature of their deaths had burned a hole in Emma’s heart. She couldn’t imagine what it had done to Liam or just how much he probably blamed his own powerful genetics for the loss of his family.
She had a lot of compassion for the dragon on her couch.
His coloring looked off, however. She tried to imagine the amount of calories he’d burned given he’d performed two impossible feats today.
She knew he needed food. As soon as he came around, she’d make sure he had a good steak. She was starved herself after the exertions of battle.
Knowing Liam would sleep for awhile, she headed to the shower in the depths of the cave. As she moved, she mentally turned on all kinds of light. She preferred a variety from deep inset pot-lights that cast shadows over the natural chipped stone walls, to different kinds of floor lighting that created a similar effect in order to send shadows moving the opposite way. She had a handful of lamps as well, though not many. A number of pendants throughout also helped to illumine the otherwise fairly dark space. Her only windows, like most cave dwellings, were at the front of the house.
Her rooms at HQ were solely utilitarian. She used them only when she would be launching with dragons from the hangar for lake exercises and now for battle. Otherwise, she preferred the view of the lake and surrounding countryside from her cave landing.
The mesa above the caves at her elevation was a broad level region broken up by the paved, caravan landing strip that went on for miles to the south and the extensive ADF training grounds.
Before stepping into a warm jet of water, she called Jane to let her know she’d survived her virgin run but also to remind her to have a new uniform
made for her.
Jane squealed at her phone call and insisted on a few details which seemed only fair.
As she recounted the events, she was struck by her own remarkable calm over everything that had happened.
But duty called and she chose not to tell Jane she had a dragon in her living room, dead asleep to the world. One mention of Liam and she’d have to spend another twenty minutes detailing that part of her story.
Instead, she excused herself as being in desperate need of a shower, which she was.
Once beneath the hot flow, she savored the beat of the water against what she realized was a large collection of very sore muscles.
But happily sore.
Good sore.
Battle weary sore.
Oh, yeah.
She’d gone on her virgin battle run, she’d survived and so had her warrior dragon. Battling eleven Magi wasn’t the largest number of dragons a first-time rider had faced, but it was way up there.
She felt pride in her accomplishment and, yes, a mild degree of chagrin that early in the game she’d turned her back on the enemy in a totally rookie move.
Mostly, however, she felt an increased certainty that this was her true calling.
Once out of the shower, she slid into a snug pair of jeans, purple ballet flats, and a scarlet tank. Like most of the people with any level of dragon ancestry, she ran hot.
After she dried her long hair, she took a moment to pat the tops of her breasts. “You can relax now. You’re no longer on display.” Later, she’d deal with the person responsible for the uniform fiasco. She wasn’t really pissed. Logan was one of her good friends and she liked him a lot. Besides, hazing was a traditional part of the process. But, still…
As one of the magnificent seven, Logan was friends with Liam and had told her she had a shot with the dragon if only she’d make an effort.
Recalling how she’d hooked up with Liam in the first place, Emma reminded herself that she really did need to watch how much she drank. Because she was susceptible to alcohol, she honestly didn’t drink all that much. But that’s what had gotten her into trouble. Sleeping with Liam hadn’t just been an extraordinary experience, it had left her wanting more. A lot more.
Logan knew just how much she lusted after Liam and teased her about it often.
Even so, she trusted the dragon with her whole heart. She’d often wished she’d fallen for Logan instead of Liam. But the platonic nature of their relationship seemed completely mutual. They were BFF’s, nothing more.
While Liam slept, she spent the next hour defrosting two porterhouse steaks, each two inches thick. She had a grill in her cave as did most dragon warrior types. She liked red meat, usually rare. They all did. Something about the blood kept them fired up and ready to protect their territory from encroachment.
With dinner in the works, she called Liam’s personal attaché, Anthony. She told him the situation and requested a change of clothing.
Anthony was a good man, a minor dragon and well-suited to performing the duties of valet to a warrior like Liam.
When he arrived, he looked down at his boss and frowned. “He’s in rough shape. I can’t believe he went into battle after a caravan run.”
“I know.” She nodded several times. “But once he caught wind of the Magi, he was full of energy. Okay. So, besides sleep and food, is there anything else I can give him when he wakes up?”
She glanced at him and saw he’d gone wide-eyed with his mouth agape. He had blue eyes, more cornflower than Jane’s lighter hue. His brown hair was cut and groomed corporate style. He blinked a couple of times.
When he didn’t say anything, she realized what he was thinking and offered him a serious eye-roll. “Are you kidding? Besides that.”
Anthony chuckled. “You caught me off guard is all. The men often go on the hunt after a battle.”
“I know.” Once she and Liam had headed back to the hangar, she’d experienced a certain amount of neediness herself. If she’d had a boyfriend, she would have dropped Liam off at the medbay, sprinted home and taken her man to bed.
Anthony looked at Liam again. “A massage would be good. He’s been having problems with his tailbone lately.” The issue was not uncommon for dragons, especially those that made war. Something to do with using a powerful tail during battle afflicted the human anatomy.
“Good to know. Anyone in particular I can call?”
“Sure. I’ll text you the info.” He got out his phone, punched in some numbers then she heard the chime on her phone.
She was surprised. “How do you have my number?”
He just looked at her. Theirs was a small community and Anthony would have known one day her path as a dragon-rider would intersect with Liam’s. He also knew of their one-nighter because, well, everyone did.
“That’s it. Make sure he eats, but I know you know that.”
“Will do.”
When Anthony left, she fired up her grill, uncorked a bottle of red and put three beers in the fridge. She knew Liam drank both and wanted something of each ready for him. She chopped some onions to sauté, as well as mushrooms, but other than that, they both needed a nice grilled steak.
What she didn’t know was how she was supposed to work exclusively with Liam for the next few weeks and not fall head over heels in love with him.
Chapter Three
In the dream, Liam lay at the bottom of the lake, cushioned by a thick layer of red sand sediment. He didn’t know how he was breathing underwater, but he was so comfortable, so deeply relaxed he wanted to stay there forever.
But after awhile, he grew restless and began to swim for the surface. Something was on fire, but it wasn’t a bad kind of fire. In fact, it smelled wonderful.
The surface, however, seemed miles away and the soft mud kept calling to him.
But so did the fire and the smell of something meaty that began to make his mouth water and his heart pound even though he was asleep.
When he finally woke up, his whole body felt weighed down as though he was covered in bags of cement. He could hardly move.
Shifting slightly, a familiar pain shot up the length of his spine beginning, as usual, in his tailbone.
It was one of the weaknesses of being dragon and man. When he used his massive tail in battle, somehow it had a negative effect on his human bones around the sacrum, as well as surrounding nerves.
He let a moan escape him and worked at sending his limited healing to that part of his anatomy.
He was so tired, though, that he felt drugged. He also had no idea where he was.
“Hey.” A woman called to him.
Had he been drinking? He couldn’t seem to pull his mind together to figure out what was going on.
A face came into view.
Ah. Emma. He’d taken her on her virgin battle-ride.
“Your two-inch steak will be ready in about fifteen minutes. Anthony was here. He brought clothes and other provisions.”
Emma had taken him to her cave, and with blood still seeping from his chest, he’d fallen asleep on her sofa.
She tried again but spoke more slowly. “Anthony brought clothes, your shaving gear. Batya’s setting up as we speak.”
“Masseuse Batya?” Relief rolled through him like a welcome flash flood.
“Yes, that Batya.”
“Thank God. I’ve got lightning strikes up my spine right now. She’ll know what to do.”
Batya came into view next and Emma stepped out of the way. “Come on, handsome, let’s get you fixed up, shall we?”
He took a deep breath and with long practice, he let her lift him to his feet. Batya was a big muscled woman with Gantor dragon in her blood, one of the largest of the dragon species. Her kind tended to serve on caravan transport where the big bucks could be made. He didn’t know whether she could shift or not, but right now all he carried about was the magic of her practiced fingers digging into his muscles.
He withheld a lot of cursing as he put one foot in fron
t of the other. He also repressed a serious desire to shift to his dragon state and blow fire over the entire interior of the cave.
She led him to her extra-strong table, and he stretched out. It occurred to him that he was naked in Emma’s house. But he was too damn tired and in too much pain to care.
As Batya began working his glutes, as well as the muscles of his lower back, his thighs and every small muscle lining his spine, he began to relax. His eyes closed more than once as the deep lake sediment called to him over and over, but the smell of the meat kept waking him up.
Within a few minutes, Batya had put his tailbone back together. He sat up and thanked her. She in turn kissed him on the cheek and suggested strongly that he shower before he sat down to dine.
He nodded then excused himself to take care of his various odors and issues, not least of which was some caked blood on the back of his torso.
Once he removed the bandage over his chest wound, he spent most of the time in the shower with his head pressed against the cool tile and his shoulders beneath the hot spray. He sent healing to his eyes. They’d never been so bloodshot, but it was rare he did back-to-back shifts. In fact, he couldn’t recall the last time he’d worked so hard.
He also couldn’t remember why he was here, in Emma’s home.
What he’d seen of it, he liked. There was lighting in unusual places, but it seemed to accentuate the coal-black of the rock walls. She hadn’t smoothed-out the walls, either, but had left them rough-hewn.
His wife had preferred everything smooth, including their marriage. She’d been a good fit for him in many ways and had eased his warrior’s life. God, he’d loved her. He pressed a hand to the rose over his heart.
He shook his head. Why was he thinking about his wife?
He forced himself to get on with things. He needed food and the smells coming from the grill had his mouth watering again.
Emma had directed him to the guest bathroom. He got the shower running, stepped in and soaped up quickly. Leaving the shower, he checked his wound, which was closing up nicely, so he left off the bandage. Dragons healed fast, thank God.
