Stryker: Dragon Protectors

by Benton, Ava

  “When we’ve found her.” That would hopefully give me enough time to get Kat somewhere safer for the long term.

  “Okay. Talk to you later, then.” The line went dead in my ear and I turned off the screen and headed back into the cabin toward Kat.

  Before I got within the tree line, I decided to make another call. One that she didn’t need to know about. I dialed quickly and waited for my friend to pick up.

  “Hey, I need you to do me a favor.” I described what I needed, gave him all the info he needed, and hung up, feeling like at least some things were looking up.

  I jogged up the steps into the house and found her in the living room, tears in her eyes and gritty determination in the set of her jaw.

  Damn. I didn’t know the first thing to say to a crying woman. First, human dragon relationships are somewhat rare. Sure, we’ll find relief in the arms of a beautiful woman, but the actual emotional wellbeing of a human is beyond the scope of my knowledge. Still, I couldn’t just ignore her suffering. So I walked in and sat next to her on the couch.

  She’d curled herself into a little ball with her knees almost to her chest and her arms around her legs as she sat upright, staring out the window. I watched her rest her chin on her knees and tried to figure out what to say.

  “You know,” I said, noticing how carefully she was avoiding looking my direction. “It’s not over until it’s over.”

  She exhaled and curled a little tighter into herself.

  “You know, I had a cat once.” I thought about my beloved pet. “She was the cutest little white ball of fluff and love. I’d let her chase string and tease her with feathers and those tall, weed grass things.”

  She sniffed delicately like she was holding back tears. “How old were you?”

  “I think five or six? Anyway, I came home one day to find out that Misty–”

  “Misty?”

  I fixed a playfully annoyed look on her even though she didn’t quite look at me. “I was a little kid.”

  “Okay.” She nodded and rested her chin back on her knees. But she was listening to me. I’d pulled her out of her head and into my story. Maybe I wasn’t so bad at this after all.

  “So I came home to find out that Misty had run away while I was at school.”

  “Hold on, you went to school?” This time she peeked over her shoulder at me and I saw her red-rimmed, watery eyes. “Like dragon school?”

  I shook my head. “Nope, regular school. We blend in, I told you this.”

  She still seemed mystified, but we were derailing my story and message.

  “I asked my mom if she’d seen Misty. She hadn’t. I asked my dad. He hadn’t.” The bittersweet memories poured in and I cleared my throat. I missed them. I missed them more than anything. I missed all of that, how easy everything had been, how simple and happy my life had been back then. “I asked my brother. He was just three, so he didn’t know either.”

  She studied me openly now, her eyes wide as if she was worried for this cat that had been gone for so many years now.

  “And did you find her?” her lip trembled a little bit and I wondered if I was making a huge mistake. I’d found her all right, the next day as I left for school. She’d been beside the curb, her ribs all smashed in. She’d clearly been hit by a car. But I had a feeling that right now, Kat didn’t need the real story, she needed the message and that didn’t change even if little details of the story did.

  “We did. We found her the next day at the front door, mewing to be let in,” I lied. I hadn’t thought of Misty in so many years that guilt began to chew at me. I’d loved that little ball of claws and teeth and purring love.

  Kat sighed in relief.

  “But I didn’t give up looking. I didn’t stop trying. I begged my mom to make missing posters. We didn’t wind up needing to, but I wasn’t’ going to quit until I found her. No matter what that meant.”

  “I’m glad the story had a happy ending.” She breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m not sure I could have taken it if you never found her or something bad happened.”

  Gulp. Well, I made the right call, I guess. I didn’t like lying to her, but I thought I could forgive myself for this one. “But the point is that you can’t give up. It’s not over until it’s over. It was over when we found her but not until then.” I needed to slip something else in there too, though. “But even if we’d found the worst thing imaginable, I’d have found a way to soldier on. Even as a child. Because that’s what you do. When things get tough, you get tougher.”

  “But you can’t fix everything. It’s not always a lost cat. Sometimes its things you can’t take back.” She bit her lip as if she’d said too much and stared at a knot in the pine wood floor.

  “What’s so bad it can’t be fixed?” I asked.

  She didn’t say anything, but she leaned into me and I slipped an arm behind her on the couch. Her head rested on my shoulder and her back pressed firmly to my side.

  She let out a huge breath and pulled in another one.

  “You don’t have to tell me.”

  She shook her head. “It’s not that.” Her voice wobbled dangerously. “I just… I’m having a hard time speaking.” Her throat made an odd noise like it was closing up.

  “Take your time.” Time was a luxury we had out here in the middle of nowhere.

  “I… said some awful things to my father.” She took another deep breath as if to calm herself. “What if they’re the last thing I ever say to him?” She covered her face with her hands, her slim shoulders shaking. “I just feel so guilty.”

  A flash of my parents, of my brother crossed my mind. My final words to them popped into my mind. I’d been upset at my parents that day when they’d left. In typical teenage outrage, I’d told them I didn’t care what time they came home. I was pissed they were leaving without me and that I had to look after my little brother.

  They were hit by a drunk driver later that same night. The thing I was mad about—not going—had saved my damn life. And my brother… I’d been luckier with him. The last thing I told him was that I loved him and I’d see him on Sunday. But he had taken his own life before then.

  I pressed my lips to her head. “It won’t be the last thing you ever say to him. I promise.”

  9

  Kat

  Stryker made me too comfortable. He was too easy to talk to. Before I could stop myself, the words began to come out, bubbling at first, then just flooding too fast to halt.

  “I was mad at him for never being the adult.” For the first time in my life, I let the words flow. Sure, I’d aired some of my grievances with my father to his face, but that was only the tip of the iceberg. The weight of everything I’d been holding back became too much to hold in.

  Stryker’s arm shifted from the back of the couch to around my shoulder and the contact warmed me to the soul.

  “Everything falls on me. Everything. The cooking, the cleaning, the working. I have to take care of my mother. She’s sick, you know.” I wasn’t mad at Mom for being ill. I knew she didn’t choose it, that she couldn’t help it. “Her depression was always there, but it’s just gone downhill. And I feel guilty. Maybe if I worked more or had better jobs I could get her better healthcare than the basic state coverage that’s not really mental-health friendly.” Sure, state care covered her meds, but I wanted her to actually be able to spend time in facilities with trained staff when she refused to eat. I wanted her to have the kind of help I just couldn’t give at home. I hated myself for not being able to work hard enough to really give her everything she needed to be happy and in the best place she could be in mentally. She needed stability. Hell, she needed feeding tubes for those days when she refused to eat.

  His silence was comforting, encouraging me to keep talking.

  “I feel like I’m counting days. One of these days I’m going to go into her room and beg her to eat and she’s just not going to be breathing.” That fear, unvoiced until now, haunted my every waking moment. The first vis
it to her room every morning terrified me.

  He nodded, as though he understood. It seemed like he did. Like he could relate.

  “I work two jobs, but I’m treading water. I literally juggle bills. I have to ask myself every month who I can put off, who I have to pay and search for new ways to stretch every dollar. If literally anything changes, I’m in trouble.” When my monthly bus pass had gone up two dollars, I’d had to cut corners elsewhere. I’d taken an already meager budget and looked to see where I could cut some imagined luxury. It was soul sucking to try to squeeze pennies from thin air. “I don’t get Starbucks. I don’t spend money on anything non-essential. I visit food banks and local churches cover my hygiene needs. It’s depressing.”

  “And you’re still fighting. That’s damn impressive.” He spoke with a reverence that stunned me. I had no doubt he believed what he said, and my heart squeezed. Here I’d spent so much time doubting myself and being mad that I couldn’t do more, but he was highlighting what I’d accomplished instead of berating me like I did in my own mind.

  I rested my cheek on his arm, and he held me a little tighter. The contact, so relaxing and comforting scared me even more. “I feel so trapped.” The second I said the words, I felt awful. My chest compressed painfully, a spiny lump prickled my throat and cut off my air and tears stung like scummy pond water in my eyes. I wiped at the tears. “I hate myself for that,” I whispered. “But it’s true.”

  “I think you forgot something.”

  I wanted to look at him, but I didn’t want him to know I was crying. I could hope he didn’t notice, but if I looked at him, there was no way to hide it. “What did I forget?” I asked when he didn’t follow it up with what he thought I’d forgotten.

  “You’re human.”

  “Easy for you to say. You’re a dragon.” I chuckled. Never in a million years would I have believed this would be my life. I wasn’t entirely convinced I wasn’t dead and this was hell. Or that I’d somehow stumbled into some homeless man’s fever dream—because it was that brand of crazy.

  “I’m not kidding around. You’re fucking human. You’re allowed to be angry at the shitty hand you’ve been dealt.” He sounded almost angry himself, and I forgot to hide my tears when I looked at him over my shoulder. He stared out the window into the sunshine and continued to talk. “You’ve been through some shit. You’ve fought battles no one can even dream of. Quit being so hard on yourself.”

  His rust-colored eyes ticked to mine.

  “I can’t help it.” I swallowed hard as his eyes narrowed. The heat in them stunned me and I wondered if he’d been pulling my leg about not being able to breathe fire because I could feel the heat.

  “You need to try. Cut yourself a little slack. It’s okay to be angry, upset, or feel it’s all unfair. Because it fucking is. Life is shit sometimes. If we don’t let that out once in a while, we’ll wind up on a tower shooting strangers.” His anger shone through and I saw him soul to soul for a second. He’d seen some shit too. I recognized it like two battle-scarred soldiers would recognize one another.

  “Thank you.”

  He jerked a shoulder up. “For what?”

  “For saying what I needed to hear. For not sugar-coating things. For not patting me on the head and telling me it’ll get better.” I appreciated that he’d leveled with me. That he didn’t just give me the same canned answers I always heard in terrible movies that made me roll my eyes. He’d spit the truth and I loved that, even though the message wasn’t exactly positive or uplifting. I preferred this gritty realism. I shifted in my seat, snuggling into his side a bit more as he held onto me. For a moment, I could pretend I was normal. That I was just a girl sitting close to the guy she had a crush on. I could pretend for a second that I was like everyone else.

  “You’re welcome. I think.” He flashed a handsome grin at me, and I relaxed a bit more.

  “So could I ride you like a horse?” I glanced at him over my shoulder and he gave me an odd look. “When you’re in dragon form, I mean.”

  “I’m uncomfortable with that segue.” He chuckled. “I guess you could. No one’s ever ridden me before. In dragon form, anyway.”

  I blushed and didn’t address the nuance of his words. “That surprises me. So what does it feel like? To change, I mean?” I studied him as his brows lifted slightly.

  “It’s what I imagine those old torture devices that stretched people felt like.”

  “The ones where they’d put your arms and legs in and crank the wheel until it ripped off your limbs?” I shuddered.

  He nodded. “Or being drawn and quartered. It’s fucking painful. But it’s a rush, too. The adrenaline chases the pain away pretty quickly.”

  “Are there female dragons?” I watched him closely.

  “Yes.” His eyes narrowed like he was on to my line of questioning.

  “And do you only… have relations with other dragons?” In my defense, I’d never been around a dragon before, and my experience with relationships was non-existent. I’d been kissed in ninth grade by Johnny Wilson, but that’s as far I’d ever gone.

  He shifted in his seat, eyeing me with a mix of curiosity and amusement. “Are you… being racist—or species-ist—right now? Like a dragon can only sleep with another dragon?”

  My cheeks blazed white hot. “Of course not! I just don’t know how it works!”

  He laughed. “Calm down. I’m just messing with you. It all comes down to the person like anything else. Some dragons prefer mating within the circle. Others are indiscriminate. It doesn’t really matter because pure dragon blood is like human blue-blood. It’s generally frowned on by all but those that practice it.”

  “So which are you?”

  He pulled away. His arm left my shoulders and he put a few inches of distance between us. I worried I’d been too forward. Maybe I’d misread the signals. Maybe he was just being nice and had no actual interest in me. Why would he? I was poor as could be, socially awkward and I’d just dumped all my life problems in his lap. He knew I was a hot mess. Why the hell would he get involved in all this drama?

  “I’m not a purist.”

  “Am I being rude right now?” I needed to know why he’d pulled away.

  “Forward, yes. But ignorance is never rude. How can you learn without asking questions?” His words held the ring of truth and I nodded.

  “Do you have other questions?” he asked, leaning forward and planting his elbows on his knees. He spread his hands as if to indicate he was an open book.

  I had a doozy of a question for him. “So if you and a human have a baby, is it a dragon or a human?”

  He shrugged, then rubbed his palms together. “It’s a toss-up. Like flipping a coin or rolling dice.”

  Fascinating. “Thank you for answering my questions.”

  He dipped his head.

  “Do you have any questions for me?” I had a feeling I’d regret the question, but I had no idea how much I’d regret it until he glanced at me, an evil glitter in his eyes.

  “Actually, I do have a question for you.” His tone of voice screamed danger, but there was no way I’d back down now.

  “Okay, go.” I sat upright and crossed my legs under myself. I couldn’t think of a single question he could ask that I wouldn’t want to answer. After all, I’d already told him the worst, ugliest things about myself. And it was… oddly freeing for him to know all my worst secrets and thoughts. Now if he wound up liking me, I’d know it was for the right reasons. “I owe you everything, you know.”

  He arched an eyebrow at me. “How so?”

  “You could have let me die. You could have walked by and left well enough alone. You chose to step in and do something. Plus, you’re helping my parents. So ask anything you want. I’ve got nothing to hide from you.” I relaxed my shoulders and smiled at him. “So what’s your question?”

  Without hesitation, he leaned in a couple inches. I mirrored his motion, wondering if his question was a secret.

  “Why ar
e you a virgin?”

  My mouth dropped open and I stared at him. How the heck did he know that? I’d never said it! Could he read my mind? What gave it away?

  I didn’t know what to say, so instead, I leaned in and pressed my lips to his.

  10

  Stryker

  Her lips were warm against mine and she just held them there. No movement, no tongue, no nothing. Just her lips pressed to mine.

  Obviously, she was more than a virgin. She had no idea what to do next with the kiss and I wasn’t about to put her out of her misery. Lust tightened my stomach and I flexed.

  She pulled back, her lips peeling away from mine as if we’d both had something sticky that stuck us together. The sensation left me oddly more excited.

  As she backed off, her wide, anxious eyes locked on me.

  The corners of my lips lifted into a slight smile and her gaze assessed my face before meeting my eyes again. Some invisible tug pulled me closer to her. I knew it was wrong, that I shouldn’t even think about touching her, that kissing her was fucking off-limits.

  But I needed to taste her.

  I reached out with one hand and slipped my fingers through her hair. My fingers curved naturally around her nape and her lips parted a quarter of an inch. Her slight exhale and the way she melted into my touch were all the green lights I needed. When the tip of her tongue appeared between her lips, I growled in desperation and pressed my lips to hers.

  Running my tongue along the slight space between her lips, I encouraged her to open up. She surrendered, opening for me and my tongue met hers. The coffee flavor of her breath entered my lungs and I swirled my tongue around her. She was more intoxicating than the hardest liquor I’d ever tasted. With every breath I could smell her arousal intensifying. Little bumps raced up and down her arms and her nipples hardened under her shirt.