“Are we not speaking now?”
She hadn’t told him where she was, which meant she was either on her way home or nearer than she wanted to admit.
The key in the lock had him opening the door and going inside. Whenever he went out and knew he wouldn’t return until after dark, Armstrong left a light on in the living room. It was a habit carried over from living with a mother and two sisters who worried.
The light in the living room was no longer on.
“I think someone’s been in the house.”
“Been or still in the house?”
He wasn’t sure. But Armstrong wasn’t about to stay there and find out. He backed up and heard the distinct sound of footsteps coming toward him.
“In the house. One. No, two.”
“I’m on my way.”
Unless Kya was right around the corner and intended to destroy his house to get to him, there was nothing she could do.
When the first punch came, it sent Armstrong on his ass. He couldn’t see a damn thing, but he felt the kicks to his ribs and chest.
More than two men. They were strong and skilled.
He tried to get to his feet, but the men’s fists and feet kept him down. They said nothing as they beat his ass.
He lunged at where he thought one of the assailants was, catching the man at his knees and bringing him down. He leveled three blind blows, grateful when his fists met face.
The satisfaction of getting some payback was short-lived. Two men grabbed him by his coat and pulled him off the other man. Rough hands dragged him toward his living room and tossed him onto his couch.
The light that should’ve already been on blinked to life.
Five men. Four big bruisers, one with a bloody nose, Armstrong noted with pleasure, glared down at him. It was the fifth man, however, who claimed most of Armstrong’s attention.
Unlike the bruisers, he wore the smug smile of a man used to being in charge. Blond and dressed in a black trench coat, he sneered at Armstrong from a face that had known too many fist fights. Fifty-something and confident, he settled his forearms on his knees and pointed at Armstrong.
“It has to be you.”
“What must be me, asshole?”
A punch to the side of his head had Armstrong gritting his teeth. During the fight in the foyer, his thick hat had come off, leaving him no protection against the strike. Payback was a bitch, and he would have his.
“You’re the last one on the list. It didn’t come when the others were in danger.” The older man slid to the edge of the chair where he sat across from Armstrong. “For the longest time, I couldn’t figure out why it had done it. Why it would even care. Then it came to me. It was protecting someone.”
Armstrong had no idea what the man was talking about, although he feared it had something to do with the men in the helicopters who’d tried to kidnap Kya over the years.
He kept silent. Besides not wanting to get hit again, he wanted the man to keep talking. If this was about Kya, he needed to know.
“It makes sense. Dragons heal. Why wouldn’t they also care to the point of protection?”
Damn, this was about Kya. These men couldn’t have her. No way.
Stay away.
She didn’t respond.
Do you hear me, Kya? I said stay away. False alarm. I’m fine. Go home. We’ll talk tomorrow.
“We tracked them all down. We held them. Interrogated them. But no gold dragon. Either it no longer offers its protection or we had the wrong people. Which brings us to you, Special Agent Knight. You’ll either prove my theory right or these last three years a waste of time and money.”
The man, smaller than the others at five-ten, rose and went to the living room window. Pulling back the dark-green curtains, blue eyes looked out.
I’m fine, Kya. Just tired. Seeing things, you know. I’m going to bed now. Let’s talk in the morning, and you can tell me what a fool I was tonight for making you worry for nothing. Go home.
“How do you do it?”
“Do what?”
“Bring it to you.” Hands clasped behind his back, the man turned to Armstrong. “Tell me what I want to know, and we’ll spare your life.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I think you do. You’re not a very good liar. What will happen if we wait here? Will it come? Or maybe I need to have one of my men take a couple of fingers and toes. Would your screams of pain bring it to your side? Is that how it works? When you’re in danger, the dragon comes?”
He didn’t know what to say to that, so he went quiet again.
The man smiled, blue eyes twinkling when he nodded to the four men.
They jerked Armstrong from the couch, their fists connecting before he was fully upright. He fought back, striking any body part he could find. He’d neither hit so hard nor thrown so many punches. He also hadn’t ever fought for his life the way he was now.
Coat was ripped from him as he struggled against the men.
By the time he collapsed to the floor, bloody and breathing hard, Armstrong could no longer raise his arms to protect or defend himself. They’d broken his nose and a couple of ribs, which explained the pain in his side and the labored breathing.
“Tell me what I want to know.”
He wouldn’t. These men would have to kill Armstrong before he betrayed his dragon.
“Go to hell.” The blood in his mouth was spat on the shiny black boots that hovered near his head. “And get the fuck out of my home.”
The older man laughed and raised his booted foot over Armstrong’s bloody and swollen face. “If you’re dead, will it come? I guess I’ll find out.”
A gust of wind swarmed into the room, toppling the men. The blond man tumbled backward, swatting at the red fog that accompanied the wind. The four bruisers were also caught up in the fog.
Armstrong couldn’t see what had the men ensnared, but he knew it had to be Kya’s magic. He’d never seen it like this before, but he felt her presence in the room.
The men screamed from inside the red fog. That was all Armstrong heard. The sound of five men captured, desperate, and in horrific pain.
Armstrong struggled to his feet. Limping, he made his way around the couch and away from the fog.
“Are you all right, Armstrong?”
“Kya? Is that you inside the fog?”
Although, he didn’t see how it could be. But it was her voice who’d spoken, different yet similar to how she sounded in his head.
“Who else would it be?”
Yeah, that smart mouth was his dragon.
“How can you fit in that fog? And how come I can hear your voice outside of my head?”
“Do you wish me to kill them?”
“I thought you already had.”
“Close, but they still breathe. I can change that if that’s your wish. They deserve to die. I can smell your blood.”
Kya was an all or nothing dragon. For her kind, gray didn’t exist.
“Don’t kill them. But don’t heal them, either.”
Whatever she’d done to the men, Armstrong figured they deserved at least that much.
“Kya, how are you in my home?”
“It doesn’t matter. I’m here, and you’re safe. I will take these humans far away from here.”
The red fog shifted, and so did Armstrong.
“No, no. Don’t you dare. Tell me. Show me what you’re hiding.”
“No.”
“Dammit, Kya, show me.”
Years ago, he’d had a dream about Kya. It was the night they’d first flown together. He’d fallen asleep on her back. When he’d awoken, he’d been in his bed. Armstrong could never reason how the twenty-five-foot dragon had gotten him into bed without destroying his home. No more than he’d ever been able to figure out how she managed to enter his apartment that first night.
The fog moved toward him. Men fell out and onto the floor. No cuts or bruises, only those he’d managed to get in when
they’d fought. What had she done to them?
“This isn’t done.”
So she said every time they ripped away one more layer that separated dragons from humans. Armstrong thought they had no secrets between them. He’d been wrong.
The fog dispersed. In front of him stood his dream. Bronzed, beautiful, and naked. Dark spirals of hair cascaded over shoulders and to waist. Hips flared out and long legs went on forever. Breasts, full and large, were formed to succulent perfection. For all her outward beauty, the green jasper eyes had his heart clenching.
Armstrong reached for her. With only a second of hesitation, she came, drawing him to her on a sob.
Or maybe it was he who cried. With joy and renewed hope. Tonight, he’d been prepared to break his heart by giving her up. Now, with Kya’s secret out in the open, he wouldn’t have to.
“My gorgeous Bloodstone Dragon. You’re human.”
7
As much as Kya despised the scent of Armstrong’s blood, the feel of his arms around her had her stomach roiling for all that she’d yearned for his touch and the years of self-denial. She despised that, too, her weakness and need for this human.
“I can’t believe you’re human.” His arms tightened and, if possible, he held her even closer. “You shouldn’t have come. I’m grateful that you did, but you shouldn’t have come.”
“They would’ve killed you if I hadn’t. Do you think yourself better suited to handle five men than a dragon?”
His laughter rippled through him and against her human chest.
“You’re the same, no matter the form. Let me get a good look at you.”
He released her and stepped back. She thought his eyes would fall to her nude form. Instead, his dark eyes never left hers.
“You’re bleeding.”
“You’re beautiful.”
She had no words. Dragons weren’t beautiful. She’d seen herself in her human form many times, although she rarely made the shift. Kya had no concept of self-beauty. Yet, whenever she looked upon Armstrong, Kya thought him lovely. His beauty came from the soul and heart of the man she knew so well.
For Armstrong, apparently, her beauty came only in the form of a human female. Did that make him shallow, as she knew most humans to be? Or did it make him all-too-human, capable of appreciating what pleased his eyes as well as his mind?
Kya had no idea. Being in this body, with Armstrong’s heart in his eyes, she could hardly breathe, no less think.
“Let me heal you, diata. Then I will take care of the humans.”
Using the sleeve of his shirt, Armstrong wiped the blood from his mouth and nose with a pained slowness that had Kya shifting back to the unconscious men on the floor. She should kill them. Magic thrummed through her body, red-hot and lethal. Even in this form, it would take little effort to end the threat to Armstrong’s life.
“Don’t.”
“Why not?”
“They aren’t worth it.”
She disagreed and took two steps toward the humans. A strong arm wrapped around her waist, Armstrong’s body pressed close.
Too close.
“I can’t explain five dead men in my living room to the police. Unless you’re an expert at disposing of bodies, you shouldn’t kill them.”
“We eat our prey. Don’t allow this form to cause you to forget what I truly am.”
The palm of his hand flattened on her stomach. Caressed.
Kya wished he wouldn’t do that, wished even more that his touch didn’t make her human body feel so good and needy.
“I could never forget the Bloodstone Dragon that is Kya. But you don’t eat humans. And I don’t want you making an exception for me.” The nose that rose to nuzzle her hair had Kya, quite disgracefully, leaning back into his warm embrace. “You should’ve told me. I understand why you didn’t. But God, Kya, this is one hell of a secret you’ve been keeping.”
“If Father knew I revealed myself, I would never be allowed to leave Buto. Worse, he would kill you.” The thought had her pulling away from Armstrong. Conjuring clothes, which she should’ve done instead of permitting him to lay hands on her naked body, Kya turned around to face him. “Do be quiet so I can heal your injuries.”
Thankfully, Armstrong obeyed. It was a brief respite. As soon as she dealt with the damage to his body and the men who harmed him, Armstrong Knight would push. It’s what he did. She’d never liked that aspect of his personality because it brought out the worst in hers. She relented far too easily, a weakness unbefitting a Dracontias.
“Feel better?”
“Much. Thank you.” He touched his nose, which had been broken in two places. “It’s back to normal, and I can breathe just fine now. My ribs are good, too.” He moved his arms and legs, testing his body, she supposed.
“You are as you should be. You’ll find no lingering ailments. I take offense that you think you would.”
“You always take offense. Too much pride isn’t good.”
“I assume that assessment also applies to you.”
“If it’ll make you feel better, then yes.” Bold, brown eyes traversed her sheathed form. “You look really good in jeans and that red silk shirt is sexy as hell. You make a man want to eat you up.”
“You want to eat me?” She didn’t understand. Armstrong wasn’t a cannibal.
“You have no idea how much.”
She stepped away from him.
“Wait.” He laughed. “You misunderstand. I didn’t mean it literally.” A scratch to his head. “Well, I kinda did. But it’s still different from what you’re thinking.”
“I think I’ve never understood you less. I didn’t detect brain damage when I scanned you for injuries. So I assume you’re brain is functioning properly and you’re just exhibiting your normal strange behavior.”
“There are so many things I want to say and ask you. But we need to take care of those men.”
Kya had questions of her own, beginning with why the men were at Armstrong’s home and why he lied about it being a false alarm. She hadn’t believed him, of course. For some reason, he’d wanted Kya to stay away from his home and these men. Yes, she had many questions.
“We need to take them somewhere.” Going from one man to the next, Armstrong searched them. “I need to know who they are. Their wallets will help with that.” He scanned what he’d taken from the men. “Driver’s licenses. Perfect.” Returning the wallets to the men, Armstrong kept five plastic cards and secured them in a wooden desk in his living room. “Can you help me without turning back into a dragon?”
“I don’t like the way you said that. As if my dragon form is less than my human one.”
“That’s not what I meant. I think you’re trying to start an argument to give yourself an excuse to shift and fly away to Buto without us talking about the very big elephant in the room.”
“There’s no elephant in the room, big or otherwise.”
“It’s a metaphorical idiom, which you know. I also think you pretend to not understand me as a form of annoyance and avoidance. You’re the smartest person I know.”
“I’m not a person. I’m a dragon.”
He threw up his hands. “See. That right there. That’s what I’m talking about. Tell you what, I’m going to run upstairs and take a quick shower. You, Bloodstone Dragon, can take care of removing those assholes from my living room. And Kya, don’t run away.”
“You have no sway over any of my decisions, Armstrong Knight. As I once told you, I will go where I please, when I please, and in whichever form I please.”
“You just added the bit about the form.” An index finger tapped his temple. “I may not have your perfect memory, but I recall everything you’ve ever said to me. It was a request, not a command. We really need to talk, and I’d rather not do it in torn clothes and dried blood.”
“And you’d rather have that conversation while I’m in this form?”
“I didn’t say that.”
He didn’t have to.
&nb
sp; “Go. Shower. I’ll be here in your preferred form when you return.”
Armstrong opened his mouth, shut it, and then marched out of the living room. Which left Kya alone with five humans and her thoughts.
Armstrong stood at the top of the stairs. He had to play this right or Kya would fly out of his life and never return. The shower had done its job, giving him uninterrupted time to plan next steps. Maybe he should’ve let Kya kill those men. It would go a long way to solving his dilemma.
The fact that they hadn’t taken precautions to conceal their identity said a lot to Armstrong. Not only had they revealed their faces, but the men also carried government-issued identification. Combined, those two facts could mean only one thing. The men had intended on killing him. The older man said Armstrong was the last person on his list from survivors of the bank robbery. Come tomorrow, he would begin his own investigation. He needed to know the extent of the threat to Kya.
Were the five men it, or were they the tip of a dangerous dragon hunters’ iceberg?
Still, Armstrong wasn’t a murderer, and he wouldn’t turn Kya into one by using her natural protective dragon instincts to get what he wanted. What Armstrong wanted, for seven long years, was Kya. That dream was now within reach, and Armstrong was surprised how far he was willing to go to make it his new reality.
Armstrong had never lied to Kya. That wasn’t the type of relationship they had. Now, as he strolled down the steps, sweatpants and a T-shirt on, Armstrong was prepared to fight for what he wanted.
“What did you do with them?” He honestly didn’t care. What he did care about was that Kya was in his home, on his couch, and still in human form. “You don’t look as if you’re about to throw up, so I guess you didn’t eat them.”
She eyed him with an unreadable expression when he joined her on the sofa. In this form, Kya was no more forthcoming with her feelings, although he felt better able to read her emotions now that she had features he was used to deciphering. As a Secret Service agent, Armstrong had a lot of practice in interpreting verbal and non-verbal cues.
Right now, back to the cushions, arms crossed over her chest, green jasper eyes stoic, Kya was trying to close herself off. That wouldn’t do.
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