Dragons of Mars Box Set

by Leslie Chase

  He glared back, not expecting an ultimatum from her. It didn't help that she was right — if the human bank ended up owning this land, they'd raise the ship and he doubted they'd be gentle. But he didn't like being told what to do, even if it was the right thing.

  Before he could sort out his emotions, Gillian spoke again. "Can you get this ship out of here? If it's off my lands, then you can sort out what you want to do with it yourself."

  "Not likely," he answered, glad to be on practical matters. Arguing with her about Imperial law was futile and pointless. "It must have taken Karaos and his friends days of work to melt that tunnel through the ice, and they still weren't done. Getting the ship free will take a lot longer, and that's if the ship can fly on its own."

  He shook his head, turning away from her, and looked at the bloody mess on the control stations. "I suppose I should check, though."

  Carefully, trying not to disturb the corpses, he made his way to one of the stations. His implants couldn't interface with anything, and that was a bad sign. A few tries at activating the controls confirmed it, the ship's systems were long dead. The great ships of the Dragon Empire had been designed to operate for thousands of years, but that was with maintenance and careful use. Not being abandoned on a planet while a glacier grew over them.

  While he worked, Gillian looked around the room, trying to keep her flashlight on him so he could see what he was doing. Zardan moved from station to station, trying to find one with any systems he could activate, but they were all dead. He couldn't even be sure that they were getting any power, though there was energy available — otherwise the airmaker wouldn't be working.

  That thought made him straighten up.

  "This isn't where we should be looking," he told Gillian, turning away from the controls. "The engine room! If anything's still functioning, it'll be down there."

  Gillian nodded quickly, and he could see that she was happy to leave the scene of carnage. Truth be told, Zardan was as well. It wasn't pleasant, looking at the bodies of his kin and their slayers. At least all the mutineers had died here, as far as he could tell. Most had wounds from the battle, but a few showed no sign of violence. Those were clustered around the controls, looking as though they'd died while desperately trying to achieve some goal.

  Whatever it had been, they'd failed and they'd died.

  Good. Just the fact that the Carnids had turned on his people made him furious, and he felt helpless that he could do nothing about this long-ago battle. Even if there were mutineers who'd survived the battle they were long dead by now.

  The engine room was easy to find, and Zardan led the way with purpose. He hefted the prybar in his hands as though it was a weapon and he hoped to find his kin’s slayers still alive in there, but when he heaved the heavy doors open, it was just as dead as the bridge.

  Here, though, there was only one corpse. A Carnid, sitting cross-legged at the control station, mummified like the rest but seeming somehow serene. Power still hummed from the crystal batteries, and while most of the systems were dead a few lights still flickered on the boards.

  "What the hell happened here?" Gillian asked, stepping up next to him. "Is it just me or does he look happy?"

  She shivered beside Zardan, who put his arm around her instinctively. He could understand her reaction — finding a body like this was somehow creepier than the battle scene on the bridge had been.

  "Something went very wrong on this ship," he told her. "Let me see if any of the systems here respond."

  As soon as he let his implanted computers try to connect, the engine room came to life. A shimmering holographic screen lit above the head of the Carnid's corpse, illuminating him with an eerie glow. The image that appeared was even creepier, in a way. It was clearly the same man, recorded when he was alive. Though only barely: the wound on his chest would no doubt prove fatal soon, and the resigned look in his eyes told Zardan that he'd known it.

  "Whoever sees this," the image said, speaking in the Imperial tongue, "I, Tollvan, greet you. By now, I am certainly dead, but I hope that I have done my duty and avenged my mate. Charida captained the Grace of Herendar with grace and honor, and the mutiny against her has surely taken her life along with the other Dragon lords."

  Charida. The name hit Zardan like a physical blow. That had to be the dragon on the bridge, and he remembered her. Not well, he'd never been close to his aunt, but they were family. He remembered her mate, too, vaguely. Tollvan had been there the last time he'd met his aunt, though they hadn't spoken.

  The first family he'd seen since waking, and they were dead in a mutiny.

  The pain in Tollvan's voice was terrible to hear, and Zardan could only imagine what he had felt as he recorded this message. Not the physical pain of his injuries, though those must have hurt, but the anguish of having failed to protect the woman he loved. Zardan looked aside at Gillian and shivered. Just the thought of failing her like that was enough to wake his rage.

  Never. No one will harm her while I live.

  She watched the hologram, uncomprehending, as Tollvan's hologram continued to speak.

  "The mutineers have this ship, and I am afraid that this is not an isolated mutiny." The hologram winced, pain visible on his dark, expressive face. But he kept talking even as his life ebbed away. "Other ships are dropping off the network, and I don't know what's happening. But I must have faith — the Empire will win out. The Grace of Herendar, at least, will not take part in any rebellion. I served as my mate's engineer, and I have turned off the airmakers. Locked the doors. The ship will descend on autopilot, and land at its destination, but until a dragon lord of Herendar comes, it will stay sealed."

  The ghost of a smile spread across Tollvan's lips. "I am good at what I do, and none of the others will be able to override my commands. Not before they die from lack of air. That's my vengeance, and if you are kin to my beloved, I ask that you remember it."

  With that and a final, hungry smile, Tollvan's hologram reached out for the controls. As soon as he touched them, the recording ended and the image vanished.

  Zardan crouched in front of the dead man, reaching out to touch his forehead. Rest easy, loyal friend, he thought, offering a prayer to his ancestors for the Carnid's soul. You died in my family's service, and you died well. This ship is full of the bodies of our shared enemies, the people who tore down the Dragon Empire.

  He promised himself that Tollvan's sacrifice would be remembered.

  "What the hell was that all about?" Gillian asked. She spoke quietly, sounding almost awe-struck by the scene, and Zardan turned to look at her.

  "I knew him, once," he said, equally quiet. "He even recorded that message for me, or for someone like me. He just expected me to receive it a lot sooner."

  She didn't understand, how could she? But Gillian didn't let that stop her. Stepping forward, she pulled off her glove and put it on his shoulder, squeezing gently.

  "I don't know what's going on," she said. "But it's plain that it's important to you. Do you want some space? I can wait outside."

  "No," he said, decisively. "No, this is your business too. You deserve to know what people are trying to steal from your land. But we shouldn't talk about it here, in front of him. It feels disrespectful."

  Gillian nodded. "Where, then?"

  "I know a place," Zardan said. Bittersweet memories tugged at his heart. "Follow me."

  Straightening up, he led Gillian back into the main corridor that ran the length of the Grace of Herendar. The layout was familiar to him now that his memory had been jogged, and he took them quickly to a side room. The door squealed open as he applied Gillian's prybar again, and then they were inside.

  He stopped just beyond the doorway, looking around as Gillian slipped past him. She looked up at him with a small frown.

  "What's wrong?"

  "Nothing," he told her. "It's just... I was here before, as a child. A family trip, Charida took us to Draconis for Princess Audrig's coming of age ceremony. This was my ca
bin."

  It hit him a lot harder than he thought it would. Since his awakening he'd feared that he would never see any trace of his family again, and now this brought back so many memories. He almost felt like a child again.

  "Look here," he said, ducking under the desk beside the door. "I scratched my name into the wood."

  "Vandal," Gillian said with an odd little smile, crouching to see. She shook her head. "I wonder if I'll ever leave a mark that'll last this long?"

  Zardan looked at her, and couldn't help smiling. Her presence lifted the weight from his soul, lightened his mood, made the pain easier to cope with.

  "You'll leave a greater mark than I," he told her, quite certain. "This only lasted so long because the Empire fell. You, the great things you do will last forever. I'll make sure of that."

  Gillian snorted, and immediately looked embarrassed. "Don't be stupid, Zardan. I'm never going to do anything amazing. I'm just an ordinary human girl."

  "There is nothing ordinary about you, Gillian Willis," Zardan said, reaching out to touch her hair. It felt soft, like silk, and he saw her eyes widen. "I am certain that you will do something that will leave a mark. Perhaps it won't be anything grand, and no one will build statues to you. That doesn't matter — if all you do is hand on your farm to your children, it will be more meaningful than my name scratched into a forgotten desk."

  Her cheeks flushed red, and her hand rose to touch his. The contact was electric, and Zardan felt the fires in his soul awaken as she squeezed his hand gently. "Your story isn't over, you know," she told him, softly but firmly. "You can still do something more, yourself."

  It was his turn to snort and shake his head. "My world is gone, my family is dead, and there is nothing left for me. I'm a warrior who missed his war, Gillian. I should have saved the Empire, or died in its defense, but instead here I am. A ghost of a world long dead."

  Gillian nodded, her eyes serious and sad. Her hand squeezed his, hard.

  "No, goddammit," she said, voice surprisingly strong and hard. "It's not your fault you couldn't stop something no one else could, and you're still here. Still alive. You're not a ghost, Zardan, not unless you let yourself fade away."

  He opened his mouth to object, but before he could say a word Gillian moved closer, her fingers touching his lips. Now that she was so close to him, Zardan could think of nothing else. The scent of her hair, the feel of her skin, they reached past his conscious mind and worked their magic on some deeper level.

  "You believe I'm your mate?" she asked, though it wasn't really a question. "In that case, you're supposed to be here now, where I am, instead of dying a thousand years before I was even born. And I'm glad you lived long enough for me to meet you, Zardan, Lord of wherever-it-was."

  15

  Gillian

  Looking up into Zardan's strange violet eyes, Gillian could see the infinite sadness in them and tried to imagine what it would be like to be in his position. To be surrounded by the death of his family, to be so utterly helpless to do anything about it. It had to be harder than anything she could really imagine.

  The words she'd spoken were true, they were logical, and they were also a complete surprise to her. She'd tried to think of something to say, some way to comfort Zardan, and then that had poured out of her. The flush on her cheeks grew hotter as his eyes widened and a small smile touched his lips.

  What the hell, Gillian? Where did that come from? She tried to pretend that it didn't mean anything, that it was just comforting nonsense, but it wasn't. At least not all of it. She might not believe in this 'mates' business the dragon talked about, but she was glad that he had lived past the fall of his Empire. That she'd had the chance to meet him, and get to know him.

  Brushing her fingers along his lips, she felt the heat of his breath and swallowed nervously. She'd been this close to him before, but this felt different. Very different. Her heart pounded as she stepped closer, and Zardan straightened up slowly, his arms folding around her and lifting her against him.

  The pain in his eyes faded, washed away by other feelings. Feelings that she shared, and more. Gillian parted her lips as he brought her closer, and their kiss sent a shock through her. Her body trembled as her desire woke, catching like a wildfire, and she let out a little moan.

  That was all the encouragement Zardan needed, it seemed. Powerful hands held her tight against him, and even through the spacesuit she could feel him hardening against her. Answering her moan with a hungry growl, Zardan took two steps and pressed her firmly against the wall. Trapped between him and the hard surface, Gillian shuddered with sudden joy.

  Her fingers tugged at his clothes, clumsy with desire, and he fumbled at her suit. Neither of them was willing to break the kiss, but neither understood the fastenings of the other's clothing. After a frustrating and exhilarating minute, they parted, Gillian panting and Zardan's wings beating softly in the air. She didn't need to be told it was a sign of arousal in dragons, the look in his eyes was all the clue she needed.

  "Maybe I should—?" she started, reaching for her suit's fastenings. Zardan nodded quickly and started to undo his clothing as he watched her.

  Seeing him undress was almost too much, and Gillian wanted to look away. Well, part of her did — the larger part of her insisted on staring as the huge man unfastened his tunic and pulled it over his head, baring his muscular chest. Her fingers found the catch on her suit, and she began to unclip the outer covering as she watched Zardan.

  Drawing a deep breath, Gillian peeled off the outer layer of her suit. I'm being ridiculous, she told herself. He's seen me in my undersuit before, it's most of what I was wearing back at the farm anyway.

  But it wasn't the same, somehow. Taking off the outer layers made it seem more intimate. Or maybe it was the way he watched her with hungry eyes? Gillian couldn't tell, but something had changed. Something made her heart race and a flush spread down her neck as she discarded the suit and reached for her undersuit's zipper.

  She paused for a moment, touching it. Looking up at the man who desired her so much, realizing deep down that yes, he really did think she was as hot as he was. The sheer force of his need made her tremble and she slowly slid the zipper down.

  Zardan's growl as she bared more skin made her whimper, and almost made her want to hide. Almost. Her heart pounding, Gillian pulled her suit wide, watching Zardan for his reaction.

  It was instant and emphatic. The dragon shifter stepped forward, his wings spreading wide behind him, his hands reaching out to grab the undersuit and peel it back from her torso. Gillian gasped, feeling a shudder run through her as he pulled it down her arms and looked at her. Only her bra remained between his gaze and her body.

  That was still too much for him. With casual strength, Zardan tore the flimsy covering away, and then his hands were on her. Gillian cried out in shock and pleasure as he grabbed her breasts, his powerful fingers squeezing. Moaning, she brought her hands up to hold his and the fire of his touch consumed her senses. It was unlike anything that she'd felt before.

  With a roar that sounded more animal than human, Zardan pressed her back against the wall again, pinning her there with another kiss. Their bare bodies met as his tongue pressed into her mouth, fencing with hers, sending waves of desire washing through her body. And the feeling of his body against her was indescribable, wonderful, all-consuming. Gillian was barely aware of her surroundings as she reached around him, caressing and exploring his firm body.

  The texture of his skin was strange and yet somehow felt right at the same time. Zardan's crimson scales were softer than she'd expected, and the scars that marked his back gave him character, made her feel like he had a story engraved on his body. Her fingers traced across him as they kissed, learning the patterns of his skin.

  When she brushed the base of his wings, he stiffened against her. For a moment she thought she'd done something wrong, that she'd hurt him or reopened an old wound. But the fierce way he grabbed her and pulled her close when the moment
passed taught her better. As did the way the bulge in his pants hardened against her.

  Wow, I guess he really likes that. Gillian's thought had a smug edge as she traced a finger along the tender skin where his wing met his back, enjoying driving him crazy. It was only fair, after the way his kisses were affecting her body. After how, if she was honest with herself, just being in the same room with him had affected her. She ached for him, had needed his touch since she first dragged him off the ice, and it was good to know that he needed her as badly.

  When he pulled back from the kiss, they were both panting like desperate animals, ready to pounce on each other. Gillian groaned in disappointment as Zardan stepped away to look at her, and she tried to follow him, to keep the contact. But he wasn't having that — in one swift movement, he'd grabbed her wrists and pinned them against the wall above her head.

  Gillian squirmed, pulling at his grip, trying to get closer to him again. But he was far too strong, and she knew it. Holding her in place one-handed, Zardan looked into her eyes with a powerful gaze that sent a shock through her nerves.

  "Not yet, little one," he growled in a low voice that made Gillian shiver and squirm against his grip.

  "Let me go," she said, though she wasn't really sure she wanted him to comply. He shook his head with a grin, reaching out with his free hand to trace a finger down her body. His touch made her tremble, leaving a burning feeling of desire across her skin as he slowly, so slowly, explored her.

  Baring his teeth, he carefully brushed her breasts, his fingers circling her nipples. The gentle touch sent a shockwave through her, and she tried again to pull away from the wall. His grip was like iron, though. There was no way she was getting free until he released her, and they both knew it.