by Megan Derr
Erie just laughed, his breath hot against Blaze's skin—and his body almost too hot, but it would hardly be the first time Blaze was left well-fucked and seriously overheated. He wondered if Rafael ever suffered frostbite in awkward places, and laughed—then swore as Erie bit him. "Ow!"
Erie kissed him hard, not stopping until Blaze's already sore lips were left throbbing. Blaze didn't even dare lick them, lest Erie decided to show his possessiveness in more damaging ways. Satisfied, Erie turned his attention to leaving marks all along Blaze's torso, biting so hard in some places he broke skin, rumbling softly the entire time.
Blaze swore and bitched, but fuck if he didn't love every minute of it. When Erie finally let go of his wrists to tug open his pants, Blaze thought he'd come just from a touch—a touch the little bastard didn't give him. Glaring at the smirk Erie gave him, Blaze rolled forward and tackled Erie to the sand. He bit Erie's shoulder hard, then did his best to repay all the nips, scrapes, and licks that had been inflicted upon him. When he finally reached Erie's cock, however, he wasn't a tease.
Spurred on by Erie's growls and the claws raking gently along his scalp, Blaze worked Erie's cock, sucking until his jaw ached and he knew his throat would be raw. Precum and saliva dripped down his chin and his cheeks flushed with his efforts. Erie's claws dug into his scalp, creating little pinpoints of pleasure-pain right as Erie came down his throat.
When Erie finally calmed, Blaze pulled slowly off, wiping his face and drawing in ragged breaths. Erie rose up to his knees and pushed Blaze back down, holding his wrists tightly in one hand, the other wrapping around his cock to stroke him hard and fast. Blaze shouted when he came, panting as he watched Erie idly lick his hand clean, and then bend to clean Blaze.
Blaze tugged Erie close and kissed him softly. "I'm going to have twenty new bruises now, dragon."
"Good," Erie said, and slumped on top of him, clearly deciding it was time for a nap. Blaze let him, partly because Erie was heavy but also because he was incredibly warm. It was nice to just be with his dragon for a bit. That, and Erie had worn him the fuck out.
They couldn't stay too long, of course, not with Leo showing up at noon. Blaze tried to quash his anger at the thought of the creep, but he'd wanted to smash Leo's fucking face in ever since he'd first struck Rafael. Rust could be a bastard, but he didn't hit people without good reason. Blaze had only been cuffed once in all the years he'd worked for Rust.
"We need to head back soon," he said, but Erie only snuffled and settled more firmly on top of him, clearly more asleep than awake.
Blaze stared up at the sky, watching the clouds that were slowly gathering. He bet the lake was a sight to see when there was a storm. Lazily trailing his fingers along Erie's skin, Blaze closed his eyes and dozed for a few minutes.
He woke to the sound of another dragon growling, and shoved at Erie. "Off, dragon."
Erie groused and grumbled sleepily, but obediently rolled off, shifting back to dragon form. Growling inquisitively, and then in pleasure, he padded up the beach to butt heads with Conway. Blaze flushed when he spied Rafael, and realized it must have been obvious what they had been doing. Hastily doing up his pants, he went to wash his hands in the lake and see if he could find his shirt. "Seriously, Erie! Where is my damn shirt? I can't believe—" He turned around to glare at Erie, and crashed into Rafael, who caught his arm to steady them both. "Sorry."
"It's fine," Rafael replied. "Here, you can take my jacket."
"Thanks," Blaze muttered, shrugging into the leather jacket, loving the way it smelled faintly of some fancy cologne. It was a little too big for him, but he didn't care. "What time is it?"
Rafael smiled and stuffed his hands in his jeans as they walked back to the footpath where their dragons were horsing around. "Eleven thirty. We were starting to wonder where you were."
"Sorry," Blaze said, rubbing his eyes and yawning. "How is everything back at the house?"
At first, Rafael didn't reply, a pensive look on his face. "Interesting," he said at last. "I am eighty percent certain that Ken will murder Amr before the day is out; I haven't seen a pair that volatile in a long time."
Blaze shrugged. "I'm sure they'll simmer down eventually. If not, well, we're not exactly going to be housemates forever. Once we figure out what the fuck to do about Cam ... though I'm not sure what the fuck we're supposed to do with a Pendragon who is owned by a Mordred." Fuck, he did not want to break that news to the clans if even half of what Ken had said about them was true.
"We'll figure something out," Rafael said. "For now, our only priority is to get Cam safely out of reach of the syndicates. I suspect our best bet for now is to get Amr and Cam back to Clan Mordred. Ken will probably be safe there as well, though he'll probably go kicking and screaming the whole way."
"Probably," Blaze said with a laugh.
So Amr, Cam, and Ken would all be safe with Mordred. He had the feeling that Leo's days as the St. George Boss were numbered; Rafael wouldn't be running if he wasn't planning eventually to take Leo down.
Where did that leave him and Erie? He definitely had no interest in the clans, even if for some reasons they did offer to help him. No doubt Rafael would let them stay with him and Conway, but Blaze didn't need anyone's pity or charity.
But that let him at a complete loss. He wasn't good for shit beyond pit fighting; it was all he'd ever done. Just the thought of turning into a freelance pit fighter made him ill; he'd rather die than subject Erie to that life. Better to stay with Rust than freelance.
That left him with little choice, but to hope Rafael let him hang around. Ugh. He didn't want Rafael to feel sorry for him—he wanted Rafael to want him, as little sense as that made.
"You look gloomy," Rafael said with wry amusement, drawing Blade from his thoughts.
Blaze shrugged. "Eh. Not really. This will all be over soon, for Erie and I at least. I'm just trying to figure out how we'll stay one step ahead of Rust and sustain ourselves. We're not really good for anything, but pit fights." Shit, he didn't even have a proper education and all that crap—not unusual among abnormals, but no one really considered pit fighters abnormal, just filthy assholes who abused abnormal creatures.
All his thoughts of running away, and he'd never realized that he didn't know how to be anything but a pit fighter. That was definitely one hell of a fucking obstacle.
"Aren't you going back with Ken? Or somewhere with Ken?" Rafael asked, stopping.
Blaze stared at him in confusion. "Why would I go somewhere with Ken? He's got his clans and shit, which is cool, but not my scene. Anyway, we might be friends, but I think if we're in the same place for too long we'll start beating the shit out of each other just to alleviate boredom."
"Oh."
"Oh, what?"
Rafael shook his head. "I thought you two were together, that's all."
Blaze burst out laughing. "No way. I think he hit on me when we first met, but it was ninety percent about pissing me off. He is too fucking much for me, man." Was ... was he crazy, or was that relief on Rafael's face? Did he actually look pleased?
"I see," Rafael said, and yeah, he was definitely pleased about something. Blaze's heart began to pound in his chest, because that kind of smug satisfaction only had so many sources.
He surrendered to the impulse before he even fully formed the thought, stepping forward and bracing one hand on Rafael's chest, leaning up—
Rafael jerked back.
Blaze recoiled, face going hot with mortification. Stupid. Why had he assumed that Rafael wanted him? It could have just as easily been Ken—obviously was Ken.
Fuck, when had his life become some teenage drama? "Sorry," Blaze bit out, not able to look at him, and fled, ignoring Rafael when he called his name, wishing he could crawl into a hole and die. Was anything about the stupid trip going to turn out well? He'd always thought that being free of the syndicates would make his life easier. Clearly, he was even more of a fucking idiot than he'd suspected.
At hi
s side, Erie growled, whined, and butted against him so hard that Blaze nearly tripped and fell. "Stop it!" he snapped, and bolted up the porch steps, charging into the house—
And stopped abruptly when he saw that Leo with a hell of a lot of fucking goons around him. He pointed at Blaze. "That's Rust's leak. Get rid of him. Capture the dragon if you can, but if not, kill it."
Four of the men shifted into black dragons. The remaining six drew guns and Blaze swore inwardly at himself for not remembering his own when he'd gone for a walk. Seriously, how the fuck had he managed to forget his gun? But even as he cursed himself, he ordered Erie forward. The temperature in the room rose at an alarming rate and the carpet burned wherever he stepped on it. The men fired at him, but the bullets only ricocheted around the room. Blaze swore and dove for the kitchen as Erie knocked two of the men down with his immense tail. They screamed as the touch burned their flesh through their clothes. In the kitchen, Blaze saw his gun on the counter where he'd left it while he was cooking.
Seriously, he was the world's biggest fucking dumbass.
Another roar joined Erie's, and relief shot through him when he realized Rafael and Conway had returned. Keeping low to the ground, Blaze craned his head around a cabinet to look. Leo was gone, which was ominous. The men were all distracted by Erie and Conway, and they'd put away their guns—probably to avoid hitting Rafael.
Blaze took aim, and fired, the noise of the gun making his ears hurt. His target dropped like a rock, and he wasted no time in hitting two more. But the sound of the shots had barely faded when more men burst in. Too many. Fuck. Four came after him, but Blaze only got in two more rounds, one shot missing, before they tackled him. He was no pushover, but three against one was shitty fucking odds when their only goal was to kill him.
Blaze cried out as they slammed his head into the counter, then shoved him to the floor and started kicking him. Where was Erie? He couldn't hear the dragons anymore. What the fuck was going on?
He heard the cock of a gun and laughed bitterly. It was supremely fucking unfair that he was going to die and his last memory was of being turned down after his one and only try at taking the initiative with another human.
The gun went off, and Blaze flinched, expecting pain. When it didn't come, he opened his eyes—and barely managed to roll out of the way as three bodies dropped to the floor. He struggled to his knees and saw Ken standing in the doorway. He was banged up and bloodied and, from the expression on his face, livid.
"What in the hell is going on?" Blaze demanded.
"Later," Ken said as he crossed the kitchen. He grabbed guns off the guys on the floor, pressed two of them into Blaze's hands, then grabbed his wrist and dragged him to the door. After carefully checking that the coast was clear, Ken dragged him into what was left of the living room.
The place was a fucking disaster. What hadn't been burned was shattered in bits of ice. All the furniture was destroyed, and bullet casings littered the floor. The only thing missing was dragons. "Where's Erie?" Blaze asked, fear filling his veins.
"They took all the dragons," Ken said bitterly as he wiped futilely at a badly bleeding cut on his forehead. Picking up a scrap of something from the floor, he pressed it to the wound and continued. "They busted in here like their asses were on fire. Don't think they were here long before you showed, but they had Amr and Cam out the door in seconds, and unfortunately Nev followed shortly thereafter. I don't know what the fuck happened with you and Raf."
Blaze shook his head. "I don't really know either. I came in the back door and they came in the front. Leo told them to kill me, but try to take Erie alive."
"Must have just come back from hauling the others out," Ken said grimly. "They knocked me out, probably thought I was dead. By the time I came to, it was too fucking late."
"Erie tried to warn me," Blaze said quietly, recalling that moment when he'd snapped at Erie for bugging him. "I didn't listen, I was too upset with myself. Damn it, what is going on?"
Ken went to the front window and stared out it. "I have no fucking idea, but they knocked Amr and Cam out fast. They shouldn't have been able to do that. Do you know how fucking hard it is to do anything to a Holy Pendragon? And to a prince, which is what Amr became the moment he bonded. He was already good with magic, now he's on par with sorcerers. But they knocked them out like it was nothing."
"They must have figured something out, maybe modified the changer drugs."
"All I know is they'd better be ready when I show up to shoot them all in the face and take back what's mine!" Ken snarled. "No stupid fucking syndicate has the right to my dragon, the Holy Pendragon, or my friends!"
Blaze scrubbed at his face, shunting away his own fear to focus on how best to get the job done. "First, we need to clean up and get sorted. You aren't going anywhere while you're still bleeding. Let's get you patched, then we'll figure out the rest. We'll get them back, though, you can bet your ass on that."
"Damn straight," Ken said. He swayed on his feet, and Blaze started forward to catch him—but he held steady, drew a deep breath, and glared. "I'm not passing out. There's too much to do. Let's go." He turned and headed toward the back of the house. Blaze gave all the bodies one last look to be certain they were dead, then followed Ken.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Ken wanted to kill someone. Mostly himself. If he hadn't stormed off again because he was so fucking pissed at Amr, he might have been around and able to actually help. But goddamn it, Amr drove him to distraction. He'd never met someone so fucking irritating in his whole life.
And now he was Prince Amr, and Ken was somehow the lucky bastard immune to his 'everybody worship me' powers. Ugh. Everything had turned into a fucking mess. Rick was going to murder him like three times over. Speaking of Rick ...
Heaving a sigh, Ken popped four aspirin and chased them with an energy drink. Setting the can aside, he picked up his phone and hit the speed dial.
"Ken?"
"Hey, Dad," Ken said quietly.
The concern already present in Rick's voice quadrupled as he asked, "What's wrong?"
"Everything," Ken said, sliding to the floor and cradling his aching head as he explained all that had happened from the moment he'd first gotten Rick's call about a missing Holy Pendragon.
When he finished, Rick was silent. Ken hated when he was silent. It was worse than getting yelled at.
"We'll get there as soon as we can," Rick finally said. "Keep your phone with you, and keep it turned on."
"I will," Ken said. "I-I'm sorry."
Rick sighed. "Just be careful, Ken. I don't give a damn about that Pendragon. I do care a hell of a fucking lot about losing you. Don't do anything else stupid until we get there, understand me?"
Ken wondered if going with Blaze into the city to shoot people and get their dragons back counted as stupid. Probably. But Rick lived on the opposite side of the country, and it would take a full day just to rally his brothers, calm down Clan Cross, and finally catch a plane.
"I'm too fucking tired to do anything stupid," he said. "Thanks."
"Seriously. Nothing stupid. We'll be there soon." He killed the connection, and Ken shoved his phone in his pocket. Picking up the energy drink, he drained it, then left the can on the counter.
He found Blaze in the living room sorting out all the weapons he'd taken from the various dead thugs. "Looks like we're going to make some noise."
"Something," Blaze said. "I'd give all of this to have Erie, but we'll get them back soon enough. How did your call home go?" He stood up, smoothly holstering a gun at his shoulder and tucking another into the small of his back.
"I'm sure if I was young enough to be grounded, I'd be grounded for life. I'll be lucky if Cross doesn't find a way to light me on fire or something. Rick told me to wait for them to show, and not to do anything stupid."
Blaze gave him a look. "I'm not sitting here."
"Neither am I," Ken said with a smirk. "They'll catch up to us eventually, and I'm already a dead
man in the Clan's eyes. What more can they do to me?"
Nodding, Blaze snatched up his car keys where he'd set them on the somehow still intact coffee table, then led the way outside. "I still can't believe they got the drop on a dragon that is supposed to be unbeatable. What's all the fucking fuss about if he was taken out that easy?"
"Cam isn't trained, for one. Two, they found a way to cheat. They must have. I really hope we find out what so the clans can counter it—not that Cam will be on this continent for long after Clan Pendragon comes to fetch him." Ken sighed.
Blaze looked at him after they climbed into the car, starting it up but not going anywhere. "You seemed pretty fucking pissed about Amr being a Mordred, and you're not even really Clan, right? Will real Clan—who I'm guessing are way crazier about this shit than you—really let Cam and Amr live? They seem the type to go with the 'better dead than dishonored' philosophy."
"I'm not letting anyone kill them," Ken said flatly. "I may not like the son of a bitch, but he doesn't deserve to be murdered by the syndicate—and he's a prince, now. That overrules fucking everything. I may not be a knight in the eyes of the clans, but that doesn't mean I'm not one. And they're all going to fucking die for taking away Nev." He threw Blaze a smirk. "Plus, we can't let them kill your sweetheart before you find the balls to make a move."
"Fuck you," Blaze muttered, cheeks flushing, then said tersely, "We need to get going."
Ken had the distinct impression he was missing something, but only replied, "Where are we going? All I know about St. George is what I've learned in the last couple of days."
"Leonardo lives and works in the Pentacle Building. It's forty stories high; he owns the top fifteen. The top three are private quarters, the rest offices and storage. If he's anywhere, it's there."
