by Amelia Jade
“Nine…ten…eleven. Eleven.” He spun left and right. “Where is the twelfth? There should be one more.”
He called upon more light, banishing the shadows from all but the deepest, darkest crevices as he inspected the entire chamber. But there was no doubt about it. One of his chests was missing. Thousands of pieces of gold and untold diamonds, rubies, and more. Gone!
The angry bellow shook his cave, small pebbles, rocks, and dust drifting down from the ceiling as he vented his rage, the acoustics of the chamber capturing his voice and hurling it back in a dozen different directions until it echoed.
Eyes normally a pleasing sky-blue snapped around to the main chamber, blazing with glacial cold as he examined where he’d found the human meddling with his stash. He wasn’t sure how she’d managed to sneak the chest out without him seeing, but he had been out of it while he coped with the vast length of time he’d been asleep.
Who knew what technology she and her other humans possessed now. Whatever it was, it was enough to steal it out from under his nose. Smart of her, he realized, to take it from the very back, where it would be the longest before Rhyolite noticed it was missing. He’d thought her clever, noting that along with her bravery as she’d stood up to him, unwilling to simply let herself be killed.
Killed, not eaten. Eww. The very fact that she’d entertained the idea that he might eat a human was enough to send his stomach churning. Factor in his missing treasure, and he was suffering from some severe heartburn.
“Heartburn. I must be getting old.”
Apparently the first millennia really caught up with you once you were on the wrong side of it. Belatedly Rhyolite realized he’d never been able to have a party to mark his first thousand years on earth. What a farce. Think of all the gold I missed out on as gifts!
He was getting distracted, his mind wandering. Giving it a firm shake, both to clear it and as a means of telling himself to get his head back in the game, Rhyolite came up with a game plan. It was quite simple.
Follow the human woman to the town. Find her. Get his treasure back. Burn everything.
A smile crept over his face as he reviewed the plan and gave it approval. First though, he would need to build up his energy. After so many centuries of sleep, he would need to hunt, to eat.
And that meant finding something tastier than human.
Chapter Six
Aimee
She bounced the ball off her ceiling, catching it in one hand, then the other. It wouldn’t be long before the upstairs neighbors complained, but she figured there was another five minutes or so before that happened.
Four and a half minutes later she stopped, catching the blue ball in her left hand and giving it a squeeze, compressing it while she relieved some stress.
“Dragons are real.”
She’d been repeating the line in her head over and over again, until she’d gotten sick of it. That’s when she’d switched to speaking out loud. There was no other way to describe what had happened to her. On the flight back she’d surreptitiously asked some questions designed to ensure they all thought she was in the right frame of mind.
With the seriousness of her job, Aimee knew that at the first sign of mental instability they would ground her and run a battery of tests until she was once again fit to fly. But nothing had seemed to be wrong in the eyes of her teammates. Without asking more blatant questions, Aimee was left with the stunning conclusion that what she’d experienced had been real.
“Dragons are real.”
It was mind-blowing. She’d always been sort of undecided on whether any of human folklore was based in reality. There was no proof of it, but she’d always been in love with the idea that perhaps, just perhaps, there was more to the world than plain old humanity.
That was before. Then she’d been chased around the cave by a dragon who had been trying to eat her. Apparently that life-or-death situation had changed her opinion on things a bit.
“So why can’t I get him off my mind?”
Besides the fact that he shouldn’t be real? Probably because once he turned into a human, he was hella hot and you haven’t been in laid in three…no, four, months.
Aimee frowned as she thought that last comment over. Damn, it had actually been five months.
Serves you right for doubting me. You. Us. Whatever. Now you can suffer the fact that it was closer to five and a half months.
Am I really being chirped at by my own brain?
There was no reply.
Real mature.
“Maybe I am losing my mind,” she mused out loud. “What else would I do if I was?”
Go back up to the mountain.
Even as she spoke the words out loud to her tiny little bedroom in her tiny little apartment, Aimee knew that was exactly what she was going to do.
“No. This is stupid, girl.” She shook her head, trying to fight her body as it sat up, the sheet falling down, only slowing slightly as it passed over her chest.
Glowering angrily at her small breasts as if they were the source of her frustration, she got up and slipped on a sports bra. “Don’t do this. You know this is a bad idea.”
But she had to. Her curiosity was driving her crazy. She needed more proof, proof that Rhyolite did actually exist, that dragons were real and that she wasn’t going insane. Otherwise Aimee had a sneaking suspicion she would have a hard time focusing on anything, let alone her job.
The outdoors was her world. Aimee loved it. Most of her spare money, of which there was little, was spent on hiking and camping gear. Where many girls would buy new shoes, she would buy a new tent, or backpack, or some other useful tool. Which isn’t to say she never bought new shoes either, but being as tall as she was, heels weren’t ever an option for her. At five feet eleven plus four-inch heels, she towered over most guys. Apparently most of the guys in Drake’s Crossing had compensation issues, because that was a problem for them.
New boots though, that was a different story. Her front hall closet was filled with all sorts of different pairs. She wasn’t afraid of going hiking in the mountains, even in winter.
A quick shower helped wake her up, but even as she finished, being careful not to get her long hair wet, Aimee couldn’t stop.
“This is one of those too-stupid-to-live moves, girl. You want to go back up into the mountain. In the middle of winter. During the worst avalanche season on record. In what way is this a smart idea?”
She pulled on layers of warm clothing meant to keep the heat in but still help her stay comfortable. Supplies went into a backpack with practiced ease, and forty-five minutes later she slipped out her door and took the stairs three levels down. Her SUV, a hefty off-road version, not the little soccer-mom-mobile, fired up smoothly and she headed out, ignoring all the warnings going off in her head.
Stupid. This is stupid. Turn around. Go home now. You’re going to get yourself killed.
“Enough.”
Her mind had begun to sound like a broken record, and she was sick of it. The decision was made. She was going to go find the dragon, and figure out a way to prove to herself that she wasn’t crazy, that they did exist. She had all the necessary supplies and emergency equipment in her bag. Yes, taking the helicopter would have been easier, but unfortunately that wasn’t an option. She worked for a government-funded operation, and they were a little unhappy about unauthorized joyrides.
Then of course there was the fact that she was off for three days straight, scheduled downtime. Her superiors, Angel included, really hated it when she came in to the base when she was supposed to be resting and unwinding, so that she could come back refreshed. So that idea was out. Which meant driving as far as she could, and then hiking the rest of the way up.
By the time she actually reached the end of the road that took her as close as possible to her destination, Aimee’s drive had begun to wane. She even hesitated while pulling on the straps of her pack. Why was she doing this again? What would her trip into the mountains accomplish, besides tell
ing her that she was crazy?
Long hair of a rich chestnut brown flashed through her mind’s eye, followed by the long, regal features that some might term noble. Eyes of fairest blue twinkled in her memory as she remembered watching Rhyolite as he’d gazed upon her and her cell phone, his brain working to try and accept the fact that he’d been asleep for so long.
“Shit. We’re not so different after all,” she muttered, slamming her trunk closed and heading up into the mountain.
It was true. They were both exposed to something that they were having a hard time believing, the new information rocking their worlds and forever changing them. She was having to rewrite all of human history in her head, while Rhyolite was going to have to come to terms with the fact that he now lived in a different age, one where he was out of place, and no longer the power to be feared that he once was.
“Oh no. No no no no. This is bad.”
Aimee brought herself to a halt, adjusting the ski mask she was wearing to help against the glare of the sun on the snow. She finally understood what it was she was doing going back up the mountain. The pull, the urge, had finally revealed its true nature, and she was pissed. Not at Rhyolite, but at herself.
You can’t fix him. That is not your job.
It was a weakness of hers, and one that had led her into more terrible relationships than she cared to think about. Aimee had this unrelenting need to help those who needed it. To heal the hurt, and repair the broken. It was part of the reason she loved her job so much. She was able to help those in extreme need.
Helping a dragon learn to adjust to a world he’d left six hundred years earlier wasn’t her typical challenge. She wasn’t certain it was even feasible, assuming that he did exist, and that she wasn’t losing her mind to some sort of disease that forced her to hallucinate.
“But if I were hallucinating and falling ill, would I be so skeptical of it then?” she muttered, pausing to pick up a tree branch. After testing it out, she snapped off about two feet of its length by the simple expedient of placing one end on the ground, the other on a nearby rock and stomping hard where she wanted it to break.
“Or maybe that’s how it starts.” She picked up the makeshift walking stick, gripping it easily in her hand and pushed off once more, heading up the steepening slope while still talking to herself, getting the words out verbally to better help her understand the situation. “Maybe I start skeptical, but the longer it goes on, the more I become convinced it’s real. Then at some point I stop doubting and that’s when I go full crazy?”
It didn’t seem all that far-fetched of a way to lose her mind. “So how do I prove that I’m not crazy, that he does exist?”
Aimee thought of the most rational, non-insane person she could think of. Angel.
“Noooo, bad idea, Aims. Badddd idea. Do not take him to meet Brian. Not yet.” She stepped to the side to walk around a large rock formation..
“Take who to meet Brian?”
She screamed and lost her balance, arms flailing as she overbalanced and started to fall backward down the slope. There was a blur and the figure that had emerged from around the rocks in front of her was suddenly beside her, catching her. Aimee felt his strong hands wrap around the small of her back and under her legs, lifting her clear of the ground and pulling her tight to a chest that could have been carved from the very same rocks it was so hard.
“Thank you,” she gasped as she was deposited back on her feet. A moment later the walking stick was pushed back into her hands, helping her stand up. She straightened and looked at her rescuer.
Twin eyes as bright as the sky stared back at her, one partially hidden by several wayward strands of chestnut-brown hair.
“Hi,” she said, her voice nearly a squeak.
“You are she,” Rhyolite rumbled. “The human female who stole from my horde.” His eyes flashed with thunder and lightning.
“I didn’t steal anything,” she snapped, her thankfulness evaporating swiftly at his accusation. “We went over this. I put it all back, and I even stacked the piles for you! Did you forget already?”
He shook his head angrily, and she took a step back, the warm fuzziness she’d experienced upon first seeing him—after being scared so badly she’d nearly fallen down the mountain—dissipating as well. Now she was once again scared. The way his hand had felt on her back was already forgotten as she readied herself, not sure what she could do if he chose to attack her.
“Then explain how an entire pile of my gold is missing!” he stormed.
Aimee’s head jutted forward slightly in disbelief. “Are you saying I stole an entire pile of your gold?”
The dragon-human shapeshifter nodded vigorously. “Precisely.”
“Okay, let’s do some math here,” she said, trying to remain calm. “How many of your bars do you put in each pile?”
“Two thousand.”
Her mind boggled at the number. That meant he had enough wealth in his cave to...oh boy. The number was a lot. More than some countries had at their disposal, she was sure.
“Okay,” she said, forcing herself to say something, anything really, so he didn’t decide she was lying. “Putting aside the fact that if I had stolen all that, I wouldn’t be anywhere nearby, let’s also put aside the question of how I stole all that gold. I wasn’t in there long, and you know that.”
“You could be a witch. Your thing with the records of my people on it. You had that there, ready to go. You knew who I was.”
Aimee shook her head. “No, that’s not the way it works. I can look up whatever I want. I just have to give it the proper terms to search for. It’s like a master book that contains all the world’s books on it. Does that make sense?”
“No, that is not possible.”
“Right. We’re going to have a long talk about technology and the advances that have been made, right after I remind you that you were asleep for six centuries. At any point during that, someone else could have taken your gold.”
She saw him jerk in surprise, as if he hadn’t considered that possibility.
“Curse you,” he hissed.
“Excuse me?” Aimee’s own anger flared up at the perceived insult.
Rhyolite opened his mouth, shaking his head. “No, not you. I was speaking of someone else. The very someone who I believe stole my treasure. I even know why he stole the small amount he did, instead of the entire thing.”
Aimee relaxed as the danger seemed to abate. “Which is why?” she pressed when he didn’t elaborate.
“To taunt me. To torture me with the fact that he won our fight, and could have taken it all. But the bronze dragon didn’t win. I am still here, and he is not!” Rhyolite laughed triumphantly.
Aimee nodded slowly. Great. A blood feud between dragons. Why did you think coming out here was a good idea again? Speaking of which…
“Why are you here?” she asked. “Why did you come down the mountain?”
“Food. Your human town will have somewhere I can purchase food and drink.”
“Yes, it will,” she agreed. “Though it won’t be anything like what you’re expecting. Things have changed quite a lot.” A smile crept over her face. “Though I suspect that you will like the changes.”
“Why?”
Ignoring his brusque nature, she started to explain to him about all the varieties of food available to him now. He waved her off after a few moments as she started naming her favorite places.
“None of this is making sense. I wish for some meat and mead. Simple fare. None of this…I don’t even know what you were saying half the time.”
“Got it. Mead is now beer, just so you’re aware. It’s different, but it’s the closest you’re going to find. But I can help with that.”
The words were out of her mouth before she even realized she was saying them.
“Excellent. You will guide me.” He gestured at her in a lordly way.
“Say please,” she said firmly, standing her ground.
“Excuse me?�
�
“It’s a term of politeness, indicating you are asking me. Say ‘Will you please show me around?’”
“You will do as I say,” he replied instead.
“Why should I do that?”
There was no pause in his response. “You are a human, and you are femal—”
Her walking stick smashed into his face, cutting him off before he could finish his sentence. Pieces of it flew everywhere. At least, the ones that weren’t embedded in his skin did. Aimee stared in shock at what she’d just done.
Uh-oh.
Chapter Seven
Rhyolite
He reached up to his face, blinking slowly as he pulled slivers from his skin. A particularly long one was covered in blood. It didn’t hurt; in the grand scheme of wounds it was quite petty and small. He would heal in minutes, at the most. His slow, delayed reaction was not built from anger, but more from shock.
Never in his hundreds of years had a woman ever spoken to him like this one. He’d started to adjust to that fact, simply because she was the only woman he’d known. But now she’d struck him with a weapon. Part of him was ready to strike her down now for her insolence and find someone else. But the bloodthirsty instinctive part of him had long ago been the first thing he tamed. It was still strong and occasionally won out, but in non-life-threatening situations, he could maintain control of himself. Like now.
As he slowly plucked at his face, the woman’s skin drained of blood until he thought it was going to match the snow-covered mountain upon which they stood. Only her cheeks were visible under the orange mask she wore over her eyes. He wondered what that was for, even as he enjoyed the fear.
“Are all women as hotheaded as you?” he asked, doing his best to project an aura of fear and intimidation. He wanted to work with this human, for reasons he could not yet identify, but he needed her to calm down.
