by Riley Storm
He reached out a hand to try and steady himself against the table, hoping it would provide a bit of solidity for him to latch onto and control himself.
Under his white-knuckled grip, the wood cracked loudly.
12
“Boys. I’m not interested,” she said, pushing the hand out of the arch of her back with as much firmness as she could muster without risking escalating the situation.
She’d spied them on her way out with a growing feeling of dread with every step that had brought her closer to the bar. The quartet had been amongst the loudest and longest of her lookers when she’d walked in.
What is it with the big buff men in this town and liking me all of a sudden? Where were they when I was in my twenties and would have considered all of them?
It didn’t really matter though. They were here, now, and she had to deal with their unwanted attention.
“Are you really telling me that you don’t find any of us attractive?” the big bald-headed one asked, trying his best to look pitiful and hurt.
“Listen dude, the puppy-dog eyes might work if, A – I were ten years younger and drunk, and B, you weren’t like six-six and two-fifty of pure muscle. So please, don’t insult my intelligence by thinking I’ll fall for that bullshit.”
“Damn, she skewered you in one, Konine,” one of the others laughed, slapping a hand against his thigh.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I really must be going.” She pushed through them, but only got three more steps before they caught up with her.
Damn these short legs.
“We’d treat you better than that oaf of a Drakon would,” the one called Konine said into her ear.
“Really? Because I told him to leave me alone, and he’s doing it. You four on the other hand, seem to lack a basic grasp of the English language. So, a point for him.”
There were growls all around, but none of them got in her way as she pushed past the host, who watched the procession uncomfortably but did nothing to stop it.
Not that I can blame him. He’s maybe two-hundred pounds at best, and there’s only one of him. Any of these guys would eat him alive for breakfast.
“That’s just ‘cause you don’t know us yet, babe,” one of the others said, earning grunts of agreement.
“Why is it that you seem to think persistence is the best way to make me change my mind?” she asked, whirling on them. “Does that usually work? Why can’t you just do as I ask?”
“Because you haven’t given us a chance yet,” another chimed in, crossing his arms in an attempt to look tougher, or bigger, or something. She really didn’t care.
“Can’t you figure out that I don’t have to? I’m not out here looking for love, or whatever you’re offering. I was here on business. Nothing more. Please, please respect that. It’s a simple request. I’m not being rude. I’m not yelling at you. I’m simply asking you to understand I’m not interested.”
The giants paused, looking at one another uncomfortably, as if waiting for someone else to take the lead and continue their pursuit of her.
“Fair enough. You have a g—”
“Listen assholes, the lady told you to leave her alone,” a deep voice boomed from behind them.
Cheryl sighed. “It’s fine, Victor. I can handle myself, thank you.”
“This guy bugging you?” Konine growled as his group slowly turned to face Victor, who had belatedly emerged from within Leblanc to come to her aid, little though it was needed.
“No more than you,” she said with a sigh. “Victor, go back inside. Situation is resolved.”
“I saw the way they touched you,” the big man snarled.
She backed away as Victor advanced. “Really, boys? You’re going to do this, are you? Here? Now? Like children?”
But none of the five was paying any attention to her anymore.
“You guys don’t have to do this,” she called.
No response.
Rolling her eyes, Cheryl reversed her direction and pushed herself between the two sides, stepping closer to Victor.
Tell me why I’m doing this again?
“Listen. I don’t really like you, but at the same time, I don’t particularly want to see you get your ass handed to you. In case you haven’t noticed, there are four of them, and just one of you. I know math isn’t your specialty, but that means they have a rather good chance of leaving you a bloody mess on the sidewalk here.”
“That’s not true,” Konine said viciously.
“It’s not?” she asked, wondering what he meant.
“No. We wouldn’t leave him on the sidewalk. We’d toss him into a dumpster!”
All four of the large men guffawed along with each other.
Victor stepped forward until his chest was so close, if Cheryl sneezed, she’d end up motorboating him.
“Stop this,” she said, lowering her voice. “You’re going to lose.”
“I highly doubt that,” Victor chuckled. “It’s about time these whelps learned what it meant to cross a Drakon. They’re long overdue for a reminder, I think. Long overdue.”
“Your time is over,” Konine shouted back. “We’ve passed you by.”
Victor laughed even harder at this and stepped around Cheryl as if she was little more than a pylon in his way.
“Better call for backup,” he growled. “Because you’re gonna need some help to carry your broken bodies home.”
Cheryl closed her eyes and sighed.
“Bloody testosterone.”
13
Victor cracked his knuckles, flexing his arms and loosening everything up in preparation. He hadn’t come to Leblanc expecting a fight, and it pained him to ruin the suit, but he could always buy another one.
He couldn’t buy the ass-whooping he was about to lay down on the Ursa assholes. Only beating them down would satisfy his anger, would calm the fury that had arisen in him when one of them had dared to touch her. It was a matter of honor at this point, of principle.
It didn’t enter his anger-riddled brain to question why he was coming to the defense of a woman he professed to loathe, nor did he question why the other shifter touching her had lit such a fire in him. It just had, and that gross inappropriateness needed to be addressed in the proper manner.
“Last chance to fuck off,” he growled. “Do that, and I won’t tell Kaelyn what you did here today.”
The others looked at each other, but not with the fear and nervousness he’d expected the name of their Queen to evoke in them. Instead of unease, there was confusion.
“We haven’t done anything today,” the leader said with a snarl. “It’s you who has intervened with your big head where it isn’t welcome. Now do us a favor and piss off to whatever hole you came out of. This town doesn’t need you anymore.”
There was a cough from behind him that sounded suspiciously like it had masked the words ‘you’ve got that right’, but Victor ignored it. Now wasn’t the time to get into it with Cheryl. Now was the time to fight.
“Fine,” he snarled, stepping forward. “Then I’ll just have to dole out the punishment myself.”
The four split immediately, two moving to his left, two to his right. A second later, they split again, giving him four targets. Victor upped his impression of them slightly. They had fought in group tactics before, it seemed.
But they had never fought a dragon before, and that would be their downfall. They couldn’t be prepared for his speed. His strength. They would fall, and he would—
All four of them came at him at once, and there was no more time to think. Only react.
Three came high, one went low. Victor turned and lashed out with a back-kick at the one ducking low. The blow was only glancing, but it was enough to topple the shifter over, removing him from the fight. It would only be for a few seconds, but it would be enough. Suddenly, the odds against him were decreased by a quarter.
Victor flung up his arm to block a punch from the now-nearest shifter while he flipped his balance around,
pulled his leg back in from behind him and shot it out in a high-kick in front of him.
This time, the blow connected. It was too fast and too unexpected for the Ursa to react, even with his finely-honed senses. There simply was too great a gap between that of a Drakon and one of the other shifters.
Still, four on one should be enough to even the odds if they were seasoned fighters. Only the relative youth and inexperience of the Ursa was protecting him at the moment.
Something struck him in the side, and he spun away, both forearms vertical in front of his face, protecting it as he disengaged, buying himself a few moments to reassess.
One of the Ursa was heavily impaired. The flat of Victor’s foot had connected with his nose, and blood streamed from it. Already, swelling was puffing up the man’s eyes, and soon he would be visually impaired as well.
The other trio, however, were all on their feet and looking none the worse for wear.
“Stop this!” Cheryl ordered from the doorway, where she waited with a staff member of Leblanc, but it was pointless. There was no separating the shifters now, not once combat had been engaged.
Blood had been drawn, and neither side would settle until it was over.
“Well, come on then,” Victor taunted as the bear shifters of House Ursa approached, this time with more wariness in their steps. They had been surprised the first time around, but they wouldn’t be caught quite so off guard again. He needed to end this, and soon.
Instead of waiting for them to approach a second time, Victor kept the initiative by going on the attack. He rushed at the outside shifter on his left, moving quickly. His right hand came up, aimed directly at the shifter’s face.
Instinctively, the bear shifter brought both arms up to block the blow—which left him wide open for Victor’s true strike as his left fist came whipping around and slammed into the Ursa youth’s ribcage. He felt something give way under his knuckles, but there was no time to stop and assess the damage.
Victor planted his foot and spun away, keeping the stunned figure between himself and the other two as they rushed to attack. Now behind his initial target, he stomped on one knee. The shifter screamed and fell to the ground, his right leg mangled and unable to support any weight.
At this point, if it were a real fight, Victor would snap the man’s neck. It was right at his waist, perfect height to take him out of the fight permanently. He had to resist the urge to do so, because his dragon was screaming at him to twist until vertebrae snapped.
This was the man who had dared touch Cheryl! He must pay!
But Victor was in control, not his beast. He would not be controlled by anyone. A brutal cuff to the side of the head sent the bear shifter tumbling to the pavement where he lay still, only semi-conscious.
Angry roars erupted from three other throats and the bear shifters leapt at him. Arms grabbed at his arms and tried to grab purchase around his throat. The combined weight of three bear shifters bore him to the ground. With his arms held down, there was no way for Victor to brace himself, and his head hit the concrete. Hard.
He saw stars.
One of the bear shifters rolled on top of him. Victor’s vision cleared just long enough to see a fist descending toward his face before it impacted, and his world went white for a brief second.
“Ow,” he mumbled, then rocked to the other side as another blow descended.
Enough.
Victor’s hand flashed out and he grabbed the next fist as it came for his face, stopping the shifter cold. He snarled and fingers like steel closed hard around the big, meaty fist of the bear shifter. Something popped. The man grunted, but instead of crying out, he simply wrenched his arm to the side and then slammed Victor in the side of the face with his other fist.
Right. Two of them.
Tiring of this game, Victor lunged up with his free hand, clamping it over the bear shifter’s face. He then forced a drop of water out of his palm and up the attacker’s nose. Not enough to give away what he was or what he could do to any of the nearby humans, but just enough to force the bear shifter to roll off him, hacking and coughing as he tried to clear his nostrils and lungs.
He was on his knees before the next shifter came at him. Instead of trying to block the attack, Victor rushed at the big Ursa, wrapping him up in a bear hug, pinning his arms at his side. Then he squeezed.
The Ursa roared, pulled his head back and slammed it into Victor. The water dragon stumbled back a step, recovered, and then returned the favor with all the force he could muster.
The bear shifter dropped to the floor in a pile of limbs, unconscious.
“Ouch,” Victor cursed, forced to squint slightly from the pain the blow had given him, a feedback loop driven directly into his brain. “Now I remember why I don’t use those on the regular.”
Two of the Ursa were out of the fight completely, two others worse for wear. But as he crouched in preparation to renew the attack, he caught a glimpse of Cheryl. She had the expected look of anger and shock but hidden deep in the normally playful brown of her eyes was something else. Something that Victor realized only just then he didn’t enjoy seeing.
Disappointment.
He could handle her being angry. Upset. The loathing and disdain she exuded whenever he was around were normal, and if anything, he enjoyed egging her on, trying to make it worse.
But this was something he just did not like seeing.
“Take them and get out of here,” he said tiredly, gesturing at the two unconscious shifters. “Otherwise, you join them. It’s that simple.”
The leader, who—it turned out—was the one he’d broken the nose of, watched Victor warily for several seconds, as if trying to ascertain what his real motives were.
“If I wanted you all on the ground, you’d be there by now,” Victor snarled. “Take them and get out of here!”
The leader nodded sharply, gestured at his comrade, and together they grabbed up their friends and retreated. Victor stood still, staring at Cheryl without speaking until he heard a vehicle start up behind him.
“I’m sorry you had to witness that,” he said quietly.
Why are you apologizing?
Because it was the right thing to do.
Cheryl was a human. No matter what he thought of her, she was a human, and a woman on top of that. While she wasn’t weak, this sort of primitive action wasn’t something she needed to be exposed to. Not in Victor’s old-school mind.
The disappointment he’d seen on her face came home to roost in full-blown shame, confusing the water dragon even more. What was going on with him? Why couldn’t he keep his brain focused on the task at hand—recovering his treasure?
Instead of saying anything, however, Cheryl just shook her head and whirled, heading back inside.
“Wait! Cheryl!” he called and went after her.
Though he still couldn’t understand why.
14
“Wait?” she hissed, spinning around, the door held open in her hand.
The staff of Leblanc had already headed back inside. They seemed far less fazed by the events than she was, leading Cheryl to believe this was more of a regular occurrence here than she would have guessed.
“Yes, wait. Let me explain,” Victor said, catching up to her.
“Explain what?” she said, voice dripping acid. “That you felt the urge to nobly leap to my defense, like some sort of old-timey knight who must defend my honor because I’m a helpless damsel? Oooo, won’t somebody please spare the weak female from the sight of blood! Woe is me, whatever shall I do! Should I lock myself away in my tower now, never able to leave because of the things I have seen this day?” She glared at him, daring him to answer.
“They touched you,” he said icily.
Cheryl waited for him to continue, to explain, but Victor just stood there stubbornly, as if those three words were enough to justify his entire set of actions.
“One of them put his hand on my back,” she growled. “Sure, it wasn’t welcome, but it w
asn’t exactly anything that needed you to come beat him up.”
“You didn’t want it,” he said stubbornly, some of the harshness fading from his voice. “I could tell that.”
“Of course, I didn’t want it. But it would be the same as if you’d touched me. I wouldn’t expect them to come and beat you up if it had been your hand on my back,” she said, wondering what the hell was going on with him. He was acting so weird.
Victor hated her. She knew that. Yet here he was, adamantly insisting he’d been in the right in coming to defend her because…because one of them had put his hand on the small of her back? That made no sense. Why would he care about that?
She watched him absorb her words. There was a flash of…something. Cheryl wasn’t sure what, because she’d never seen that sort of look from him before, though it was gone almost as soon as it appeared. Victor never reacted to whatever had played across his eyes, so oblivious she had to wonder if he even realized it happened.
“They should have stopped,” Victor growled adamantly.
“And you shouldn’t have fought them!” she shouted. “Violence isn’t the answer, you primitive caveman!”
“What would you have me do, then?” Victor asked, standing up tall, as if that was going to help his case.
“Do? I wouldn’t have you do anything, except maybe listen to me! I told you I had it under control. That I was handling it. They were going to leave. I’d explained my situation, and they listened. Unlike you, I might add. But then you came in like a wrecking ball and just had to screw things up even more.”
“I was helping!” he snapped, anger narrowing his eyes.
“Helping? Helping?!” she laughed mockingly. “In what way were you helping, you obstinate asshole? You just made everything worse! Like you do with everything!”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Victor challenged, his own voice increasing in level.
