She could see he meant it. Paige didn’t say anything. It wouldn’t help anyway. Instead, she looked down at Flood. Thankfully the bullet had an exit wound, so she wouldn’t have to dig it out. The wound had stopped pumping blood. Flood was still breathing. His skin was pale though. He’d lost too much blood in such a short time.
She released a pent-up breath when she heard Tim leave, dragging the body as he went. She tried not to think about his threat. About him coming back. This wasn’t the time.
Within a few minutes, one of the other men brought a first aid kit and a blanket. “I’ve also been instructed to bring a bucket of hot water and a washcloth. Do you need anything else?” He looked from the shifter to her and back again.
“Please help me turn him onto his back.” Right now, Flood lay face down in a heap on the cold, hard floor. His breathing was strong, so she didn’t think he needed to be in the recovery position. “Let’s move the mattress, put it right next to him and then try to flip him onto it.”
The guy nodded, he pushed the mattress across and Paige positioned it where she wanted it. Then he moved to Flood’s head and gripped him by the shoulders.
Paige took ahold of his legs. “On two…” She counted down and they both did their best to turn Flood. Paige used every ounce of strength and then some. The guy’s face turned red from the effort but they finally managed it.
Flood grimaced and then groaned loudly as his back hit the mattress but within seconds he was out cold again. She looked down at his torn pants. They were wet with congealed, drying blood. “I’m going to need a pair of sweatpants for him.”
The guy nodded. “I’ll see what I can find.”
It didn’t take long and he was back with the hot water and the washcloths. He also brought soap, a towel and some other basic toiletries. “I’ll bring some food in a little while.” He frowned. “I’m afraid I couldn’t find anything that would fit him. It might take some time.”
She nodded. “Thank you. Can you make sure the other women get some food and supplies as well?”
He nodded. “I will.”
Once the door clicked shut down the hall, and all was finally quiet, Sydney asked what had happened. Paige told them briefly, sticking to the facts and warning them about Tim. "I need to sort out this gunshot wound," she finally said after a barrage of questions. The women didn't ask anything more after that. If Paige strained, she could hear them talking with one another. They were worried and Paige couldn't blame them.
She looked back down at Flood, watching his chest rise and fall. His color might be terrible be he still looked strong. “Let’s see what we’re dealing with.” She opened the first aid kit and removed the blunt-nose scissors she’d seen earlier. Being as careful as possible, she pulled the congealed material away from his skin and cut down. She rolled the pants away from the wound, taking care not to touch anything she shouldn’t. Again, she was astounded at how small and insignificant the wound looked. The hole was just to the right of his hip bone. Purple blossomed across his skin. It looked painful. She wondered what kind of damage it might have done to bone and organs. Hopefully nothing major had been affected. He was going to need his super healing abilities all over again. Her sweatshirt was wadded on the bottom wound, which she would just be able to make out above the mattress if she removed it. The shirt was also soaked with blood in places.
Using the water and cloths, she cleaned the area as best she could before using what was left of the rubbing alcohol to sanitize the wound. Then she dressed it. She did the same with the exit wound before checking on his chest wounds. It was a miracle that none of them had been affected. They continued to heal up. The one on the actual bullet wound had become a thin pink scar.
She pushed out a heavy breath. “These pants have to go.” She spoke more to herself since he was still lights out. The garment was tattered, dirty and blood-soaked.
Okay! She was a grown woman. She’d seen a couple of naked men in her life. It was no big deal. Paige cleared her throat. She could do this.
Going slowly and carefully, she peeled his thin cotton pants down…down. Oh good lord! She quickly looked away. Okay, so maybe she’d seen a couple of naked men before but nothing like this. Flood was a monster of a man…all over. She glanced back up, looking away again. Concentrate on the job at hand, Paige! He was huge, as in, long and wide with heavy balls. There was not a hair in sight which made him look even bigger. She swallowed thickly. The abs she had seen above his pants line continued below it. He also had that muscled V. She got back to work, peeling his pants down further, revealing thick thighs, just as tanned as the rest of him. Come to think of it, he didn’t have tan lines anywhere.
Flood might not be handsome in the classical sense but he sure had a beautiful body. Even shot to hell and covered in bandages, he was something to behold.
Tanned, honed and well-muscled. She peeled his pants off his legs, one at a time, noticing that his feet were massive too. Paige bit down on her lower lip as she recalled the particular saying that had to do with feet, their size and another part of the anatomy. The saying was clearly true!
Her cheeks felt hot. The rest of her did too. Undressing him without any help had been hard work. Paige quickly pulled the blanket over him, protecting his modesty. Hopefully they’d find some clean clothing for him soon.
She cleaned up the small cell. Washing the cloths and hanging them to dry. Flood might want to wash when he finally regained consciousness. She looked down at the soap. What she wouldn’t do for a shower. There was no way she would risk it though. She put the bloody rags that used to be her sweatshirt and his pants, next to the cell door.
She sat on the edge of the mattress and waited. What else was there to do? One thing was for sure, they needed to break out of there soon. Tim meant every word. He was going to come after her. On the surface, it felt like things had improved, when in reality, they may just have gone from bad to worse.
Chapter 11
Something touched the back of her head. Fingers threaded through her hair. Rubbing softly on her scalp. It felt good. Goosebumps lifted on her arms. Sparks of pleasure rippled across her skin, moving down her back, even though his hand stayed threaded in her hair. Soft…gentle.
Flood.
She sucked in a breath and her eyes opened. Where was she? There was soft, warm skin against her ear and…and… What was she looking at? A hand clamped over that something, pushing it down, in the same instant as she realized what it was.
“Oh!” she said as she sat up. “I’m sorry, I must have fallen asleep,” she blurted turning to face Flood, his face that was.
Impassive as always. His dark eyes gave nothing away. “I’m sorry.” He glanced down at his hand. “It happens sometimes.”
She’d been lying on Flood’s stomach ‒ more to the point, on his abs, the washboard ones ‒ facing towards his legs. His penis had been fully erect when she’d woken up. So much so that it had lifted the blanket. Lifted. It. She’d woken up facing a wall of blanket. That was, until he’d pushed it down. He was still holding his hand over his…big gulp…area.
“You’re half dead. You shouldn’t be able to get…those.” She waved a hand in the general direction of his erection.
“Dragons are a strange species. We get extra horny when we’re injured. I think it’s because sex helps the situation. Don’t be afraid or take it the wrong way. It’s how I woke up. I can’t seem to,” he squirmed a little, “get it to go down.”
“I’m surprised with all the blood loss that you haven’t passed out with the amount of blood needed to fill that thing.” She made the stupid joke, giggling to herself afterwards even though it made her cringe inside. Why was she acting like such a teenager?
Flood remained serious. A single frown line marred his forehead. “You would know.”
“Know what?” she asked. Sticking her foot into her mouth at every turn, it would seem.
“How much blood it would take to fill my cock, since you’ve seen it.” H
is eyes never left hers, or wavered.
“Oh…yeah… About that…your clothing was ruined and bloody and…I didn’t even look…there. I didn’t! I swear!” she lied through her teeth. Mumbling and bumbling. Again, sounding like a teenager.
One side of Flood’s mouth quirked up for just a second or two. His eyes lit up, just a touch. Then again, it was better to say they became less dark because there was nothing light about them, not ever. “If you say so, female.” There was humor laced into each word.
She cleared her throat. “I do…say so. I didn’t…look,” she whispered.
“I don’t mind you looking at my cock, so no need to try to hide it.” His voice was low.
“Okay.” She licked her lips, feeling distinctly uncomfortable. “Whatever,” she mumbled, feeling embarrassed to her core. She needed this conversation to end.
“Shifters don’t have hang-ups about being naked. Not like humans. We spend much of our time naked.”
“I could tell.” Why had she just said that? Why couldn’t she keep her trap shut?
He frowned. She could see the question in his eyes. It was just a matter of time before he asked her why she had made that comment.
“You don’t have any tan lines.” She felt her cheeks heat all over again.
“So you were checking me out.”
“No!” she cried, trying to keep her voice to a low whisper. “It’s not like that, I…”
Flood smiled. Full on smiled, deep dimples appeared on either side of his mouth. They were so darned cute. “I know that. I was only teasing you.”
“Thank you.” She leaned forward and took his hand, suddenly feeling a rush of emotion. “Thank you for saving me.” Her eyes stung and she blinked a few times.
“I didn’t do a great job of it.” He shook his head. “So no need to thank me.” His deep frown lines reappeared.
“You did save me.” She nodded, squeezing his hand tighter. “You weren’t supposed to help me, remember? We were on our own.”
“I know.” He pushed out a breath. “It was a stupid thing to do but I couldn’t watch that play out for even a second longer.” He clenched his teeth for a second or two, anger flaring in his eyes. “And technically I didn’t actually help you. That female came.” Then he frowned, looking like he was thinking really hard as his eyes narrowed. “There was a female, wasn’t there?”
“Yes, turns out that she’s the boss they keep talking about.”
“She stood up for you?” Flood didn’t look like he believed it.
“Yes.”
“We’ll talk about it later. It’s dangerous to talk now. I need to rest.” His lids looked heavy, and his blinks had turned slow.
“Okay.” She nodded. “I’m glad you’re not doing too badly.”
He made a snorting sound. “I was about a day ‒ two tops ‒ away from gaining back my strength. That’s not the case anymore. My hip is shattered.”
She winced. “I thought it might be.”
“I lost a lot of blood as well.” He shook his head, running a hand over his face, the thick stubble catching. “It’s going to take time to heal, all over again.”
“You must be in agony!” How was he even talking?
Flood shrugged. “I can handle the pain. I can’t take just lying here.”
She could see he was struggling to stay awake. His lids looked heavy, his voice was thick with fatigue. “Rest,” she whispered.
He nodded once, closed his eyes and was asleep in seconds.
“Tell me about this female.” Flood’s voice punctured the darkness, bringing her back from the sleep that was threatening to tug her under.
She rubbed her eyes and yawned. Once again, they lay side by side on the mattress. Flood was under the blanket. She was feeling the cold, especially since she was in only a t-shirt. Paige shrugged. “Nothing much to tell. She was well-dressed, well-spoken and…nice. Although, I realize she’s keeping us captive, so, she’s not really nice, is she?” she whispered.
“No! Not even a little bit.”
“I mean she wasn’t too upset about the guy you killed. She was pretty unperturbed by all of it. Not even about what they almost…did to me. She was more pissed about him disobeying orders and almost killing you.” She paused, gathering herself. “She pretty much gave them a slap on the wrist for planning to rape me. She’s a woman, you would think she would have more…empathy.”
“What did she look like?”
“Medium height. She looked like she worked out…nice body, I mean.” Stick to the facts, Paige. “Her clothing was high-end. Her blouse looked silk and she wore a string of pearls. In high heels and a skirt…she looked out of place down here. Her hair was colored and styled, definitely professionally done. Her nails were manicured. She just didn’t fit. She looked rich. Like she would be better suited sipping cocktails with a pint-sized pooch on her lap. You know the type.”
She heard him move. “Yes. Anything out of the ordinary? Did anything stand out about her?”
“No…” Wait just a second. She had seen something. “Actually, there was, yes, she had a tattoo, which seemed weird as well.”
His whole body stiffened. “Where was this tattoo?”
“That’s the thing. I wouldn’t peg her for the tattoo type at all. If she were to get one, I’d say she’d go for something concealed. Not on her hand.”
“Her hand.” His voice was gruff. “You sure about that?”
“Very. I think it was on her left hand… Yes, it was definitely on the left on the top part, in the middle. It really stuck out.”
“What was the tattoo of? Could you make it out?” His voice was animated. She could hear he was working to keep it down.
“I don’t know. I couldn’t make it out. It was small and black. No color.”
She heard him grind his teeth, the sound reverberating around the cell.
“What does that mean? You know something, don’t you?”
She could hear him breathing, could feel the tension radiate off of him. “It means we’re in deep shit. This is just as bad as I thought.”
“You know something about this tattoo? About this woman?”
“I don’t know her. I don’t have to.” He moved, shifting his weight. She heard him groan. “She’s a slayer. These are definitely hunters. The males are hired help but she’s something else entirely.”
“What is she then? Who is she?”
“That tattoo is of an eye. The All Seeing Eye. She belongs to a group. A society. They’re made up of generations of slayers. They all have a tattoo like the one you saw.”
“Slayers?”
"Dragonslayers. Relations to the males who slaughtered our kind many years ago. I'm sure you've heard tales of dragon slayers even in human tales. Of how they came with their swords and spears. It seems that although they thought us long gone, they still saw fit to pass down knowledge about our species from fathers to sons, through the generations. The ancestors of these bastards almost wiped us out hundreds of years ago. I think they believed we were gutted and buried. Ash. Until recently that is, when we were forced to take human females for mates. Not all of the earlier meetings were successful. Some females returned home. Apparently, there are those who talked because the helicopters started coming soon after. Flying grids over our territory. Searching for signs of life. Looking for more blood, no doubt." He paused, like he was thinking about telling her something else of obvious importance. Then he continued. "The invasions stopped some months back when one of their choppers crashed…I won't get into the details. It's been quiet for so long we thought having a hunt would be safe. We were wrong."
"Dragonslayers." It seemed far-fetched and yet, here they were. These people had not been shocked at finding them. They knew what Flood was even though they hadn't seen him shift. They weren't shocked to see those dragons give chase. They knew. This had all been planned. This bunker was newly built.
“Ruthless. Blood hungry. The real slayers will be extremely wealthy ‒ most o
f them, at any rate.”
“That woman looked like she came from money. Everything about her screamed wealth.”
He pushed a breath out through his nose. “They stole from us all those years ago. Took everything we had amassed. All of our…treasure. Now they’re back for more.”
“Treasure?” She could hear the shock in her voice. “What treasure? They’re crazy, right? It’s not like you dragons have anything to give.” All that talk of mines.
“I’ve said too much,” he said. “You’re right! We have nothing for them. They will take what they can, though, and they won’t be happy until every last one of us is dead. That is their real mission. To exterminate us.”
A shiver of dread made her clasp her arms around herself. He was right. Somehow, she knew it. There were facts but then there was also this gut feeling. It took money and lots of it to build an underground bunker like this. To infuse the bars with silver. To infuse weaponry. The helicopter would have cost plenty too. She shivered again.
“You’re cold,” he said.
“I’m okay.” She was cold, but the shivers had nothing to do with the temperature.
“Get under the blanket.”
“You may not have noticed but this is a single mattress. You take up most of it…which I understand,” she quickly added. “You’re also naked. Sharing would be…awkward. I’ll be fine.”
“Sharing would be the clever thing to do,” he whispered. “You might get sick otherwise. Get under the blanket. You’ve already seen me naked, so we may as well snuggle.”
“Um…I… It… It’s hardly the—” she spluttered.
Flood chuckled. “Get under the covers already. Stay warm. I’m joking about the snuggling part, although I wouldn’t mind. It would be for survival reasons. I wouldn’t take it the wrong way.”
Flood was right. She was damned cold. Her arms were covered in gooseflesh and her legs had that stiff feeling. The blanket would help and Flood was like a big hot-water bottle. He’d keep her toasty. She just wished they’d find some pants for him soon.
Captured Dragon (Water Dragons Book 2) Page 7
