Her Dragon's Fire

by Julia Mills

  They slowed as he turned into the path beside Kyndel’s. He cut the engine, pushed the kickstand down, and as the bike leaned to the side, lifted them both off the bike and headed straight to the front door. Without missing a beat, he unlocked the door and walked through, kicking it shut as he continued towards the master bedroom. He walked straight through to the bathroom and stopped, taking the few precious moments he needed to just hold Grace, reveling in the fact that she was safe and alive. He pulled her tighter to his chest and pushed his nose into her hair, inhaling, drawing her essence into him. She tensed and he knew she was contemplating getting down, breaking their connection. His mate was a strong, independent woman, and he was sure she was trying to regain some of her composure. Every few seconds, he would pick up a stray thought of hers. She thought she should let go of his neck, but no matter how hard she tried, she could not. He could feel her conflict that she was depending on him, she loved it and hated it at the same time, but it was something she was going to have to get used to; she was not going anywhere without him. The incident in the parking garage had solidified his belief that they needed to be together for all time, starting immediately. Nothing would happen to her while he could still draw a breath.

  “Grace… mo ghra’, can you stand? You need to get a hot shower and we need to get you tucked into bed before the adrenalin wears off. I don’t want you going into shock, and from the way you’re shaking, I’m afraid you’re close.”

  Aidan loosened his grip on her legs, letting them slide to the floor, while he wrapped both arms around her shoulders to hold her steady. When he was sure she could stand on her own, he loosened his hold and took a step back, keeping his hands on her shoulders for support. He looked into her eyes, still wide with fear. The scrapes that decorated her cheek brought his rage roaring to the forefront once again. His dragon puffed smoke, begging to be let out to seek revenge for their mate’s suffering. As his eyes traveled down her body, he saw the tears in her clothes. When his eyes landed on her knees, he could not believe she was even standing. Both knees were scraped raw, with dirt and grime from the floor of the parking garage embedded in the wounds. It took all of his considerable control not to lose his temper. He wanted to punch whatever he could find, he needed to inflict pain as retribution for his mate, but he had to think of Grace and what she needed. She was the only thing that mattered; she came first.

  He looked back at her beautiful face and cringed at the fear he saw. “Grace, mo chroi, you break my heart looking at me like that,” he cupped her unblemished cheek. “I promise on all that I hold sacred, I will never let anything happen to you again.”

  She held her hands up to signal for him to stop talking and he saw that her hands had received the same treatment as her knees, “I know I’m safe with you. I have no idea how I know but I do. I just can’t stop replaying the whole thing over and over in my head.”

  She tried to turn away from him but his hold on her shoulders was too strong. One lone tear rolled down her cheek. He pulled her back to his chest, “Mo chroi, do not hide from me. I’m here for you, let me help you.” His words shook with emotions he thought had died long ago. He knew in that moment that he would give his very life if it meant the wonderful creature in his arms never had to suffer another second of pain.

  Grace burrowed farther into his chest and rubbed her face against his shirt. She cried out as the cuts and bruises on her cheek made contact. Aidan jerked her back, “We have to get those scratches cleaned out.”

  He lifted her onto the counter, gently removing one arm and then the other from the sleeves of his jacket. He threw the garment into the corner, “Do you know if there is a first aid kit or something I can use to clean these up?”

  “Kyndel has a kit under the sink, with a jar of the ointment her granny taught her to make.”

  Aidan knelt down and opened the cabinet, retrieving the box holding the first aid supplies, and grabbed the jar of “Granny’s Special Recipe”, as they had started calling it around the lair. There was also a bottle of Kyndel’s special bath oil, which was definitely needed. He smiled up at his mate, “Yes, I’m very familiar with Kyndel’s ointment. She has made many jars of it in the months since she married Rayne. We’re all wondering how we ever lived without it.”

  Grace chuckled and some of the pressure around his heart lifted. If he could keep her focused on something other than what she had just experienced, at least for a little while, it would be easier for her. He remembered Kyndel had shown them all how to mix her healing herb infused bath oil with warm water to get debris from the wounds and help with the swelling. He filled the basin he found in the cabinet, and the sink with warm water and bath oil. He grabbed a handful of the soft cloths and a few towels from the linen closet, and once again knelt down in front of Grace.

  She jumped when he touched her foot, pulling her from the memories of her attack. His heart broke at the ‘deer caught in the headlights’ look she gave him and his anger burned hotter. “Grace, I need you to turn just a little and put your hands in the sink. It’ll help get the muck out of those scrapes.” He laid his hand on the outside of her thigh, turning her legs to the side, making it easier for her to submerge her hands in the healing mixture he had prepared. He dunked a soft cloth in the basin on the floor by his leg, and bit by bit, washed the wounds on both knees, changing the water several times until all the rocks, dirt, and grime were gone. He stood and took her hands out of the water in the sink, which had become lukewarm. Taking another soft cloth, he turned on the water, adjusted the temperature, and made sure none of the offending dirt remained on her delicate skin. He tossed the last cloth into the pile he had created and looked at the most beautiful face he had ever seen. From the first swipe of the cloth on her knees, she had closed her eyes, and they had remained closed the entire time, even when she gasped as he touched an especially deep laceration.

  Now she was sitting there still as a statue, eyes closed, head to the side, leaning just a bit forward. Her adrenalin rush was wearing off. He treated her poor abused face with the same care and attention as he had the rest of her wounds. If he didn’t hurry and get her in the shower, she was going to fall asleep right there. As much as he wanted to see her luscious body, now was definitely not the time. “Grace, you need to get a shower so I can put the ointment on all these cuts and bruises. I’m going to go into the bedroom to give you some privacy, but I’ll be right outside that door,” he cocked his head towards the bedroom. “You holler if you need anything and I’ll come running,” he smiled at her.

  He leaned forward and kissed her forehead, inhaling the calming scent of vanilla and honey, reminding him once again that she was here and only a little worse for wear. He leaned back, looked her in the eyes to make sure she was not in shock, and gave her shoulders a little squeeze. Her lips curled into a tiny smile that didn’t quite reach her baby blues and she nodded. He let his hands fall to his sides and backed out of the bathroom, keeping eye contact with the most important person in his world, right up to the second he closed the door. Even though she was only a few feet away, on the other side of the door, he knew it was going to be the longest wait of his life.

  With his exceptional hearing, he tuned out everything except the woman that held his heart. He listened to her sharp intakes of breath when her clothes brushed a particularly sensitive area. Even though they had just met a few days ago, the mating call, coupled with the intense situation they had just experienced and the fact that he’d opened his senses wide to her, made it possible for him to pick up some of what she was feeling. His fists clenched at his sides and he felt the chaos of her emotions from all that had happened. He focused on making sure she was still conscious and not in too much pain. The physical pain was only a very small part of what his Grace would suffer, but that was what he would focus on right now. When she’d had a good night’s sleep and felt a little more like herself, they would start to deal with everything else.

  He heard the water start and the door to the s
hower slide shut as he sat completely still on the end of the bed, unable to do anything but listen. His dragon was chuffing and pushing at him to go to their mate. He pushed back, trying to make him understand that she needed space. They were locked in an internal debate when a tiny sob broke in. He walked to the door, laid his ear against the wood and listened. The sound he heard had him ripping open the door and sliding the shower door with such force it bounced off the opposite wall. What he saw stopped him dead in his tracks. There, huddled in the far corner of the shower, with water raining down on her, was his mate. The strong, spirited, beautiful, fiery woman that would be his for all time, was curled into a ball, sobbing so hard her body shook, while she bit a washcloth to keep him from hearing her sorrow. He walked under the spray completely dressed, picked her up, and held her to his chest while she cried. He had no idea how long he stood there holding her, when it dawned on him that he had better get her clean before the water turned cold. Grabbing the soap from the holder and the wash cloth from her hand, he sat down on the floor of the shower and washed every inch of her amazing skin, reveling in the fact that she was letting him take care of her in such an intimate fashion. Every minute or so Grace would glance at him through her lashes, sigh, and close her eyes again. She had a distant, haunted look in her eyes that he would move heaven and earth to never see again. When she was as clean as he could get her without moving her off his lap, he got the shampoo and conditioner and washed her lovely mane. She closed her eyes and moaned as he massaged first one and then the other into her scalp. Several times he had to remind himself, his dragon, and his wayward cock, that she was injured. This was about caring for her, nothing else. When he was satisfied that she was clean, he stood, turned off the water, and stepped out of the shower with Grace in his arms. He grabbed the big fluffy towel and jar of ointment from the counter as he carried her to the bed.

  Aidan carefully sat Grace on the bed and dried her hair, then wrapped the towel around her, securing it in the front. “I’m going to find you something warm to wear. You sit right here.”

  She nodded. He remembered the big flannel shirt Lance called his “Paul Bunyan Special” hanging in the closet, and knew it was warm and big enough to cover her three times over, but the best part was that he wouldn’t have to search for it. He ran to the closet, stripping out of his wet clothes on the way. He grabbed the flannel, flinging the hanger against the wall and was back in a matter of seconds, wearing only a pair of grey sweatpants. Grace hadn’t moved at all. He put first one arm and then the other into the sleeves of his shirt and buttoned the buttons. Then he lifted her so that she stood in front of him while he grabbed the bottom of the wet towel and slid it out from under his shirt, dropping it next to the bed. He pulled the covers back and once again sat Grace on the side of the bed.

  Kneeling in front of her, he was again amazed at her beauty, even in her present condition. No matter that her hair was mussed from the towel drying or that bruises, cuts and scrapes abraded her tender skin, he couldn’t stop staring. He knew she was processing all that had happened, but little by little, the spark that was purely Grace was returning to her eyes. His mate was a fighter, she had spirit, and she would survive this ordeal, stronger than before. He felt it deep in his soul. Grabbing Kyndel’s ointment, he unscrewed the lid, scooped out a handful and rubbed his hands together, warming the ointment, preparing it for Grace’s skin.

  He carefully covered both knees and the stray abrasions covering her legs with a thin layer of the ointment, then rubbed a thin layer over the palms of her hands. Next, he reached for her face and as gently as possible, with just his fingertips, spread the ointment across her injured cheek. She closed her eyes and leaned into his touch. When he was sure he had gotten every single mark, he grabbed a cloth and wiped his hands clean. Grace opened her eyes and stared into his. The weight of her stare hit him square in the center of his chest. A warmth like no other spread slowly, but the longer they held their gaze, the faster it spread. He knew if he didn’t look away soon, the wildfire gaining momentum would overtake and annihilate all his good intentions. He blinked, effectively breaking the spell, and stood to help her into bed. Grace grabbed both his hands and pulled him down to look into his eyes again, “Please stay with me. I don’t think I can be alone tonight.”

  He looked at the one the Universe had made just for him, and the shadows in her eyes broke his heart. But as he continued to stare, he saw more than hurt and fear; if he was not mistaken, he also saw the spark of something else, something he was almost afraid to hope for. He didn’t know who he was trying to fool; he would deny his mate nothing, in this life or the next. He smiled and nodded. Lifting Grace, he gently laid her in the middle of the bed, turned off the bedside lamp, and crawled into the bed next to her. She had turned on her side facing him, so he did the same. They lay face to face. Slowly she moved closer, until he could feel her breath against his cheek. “Would you mind holding me, just until I get to sleep?” she whispered so softly, he wouldn’t have heard her without his enhanced hearing.

  He couldn’t speak past the lump in his throat, so he opened his arms and let her cuddle closer. When she stopped moving and breathed a sigh of relief against his chest, he closed his arms around her, careful of her wounds. He stared at the ceiling, thanking the Universe that he had gotten to her in time and that she was safe in his arms. He laid his cheek on the top of her head and just enjoyed the feel of Grace in his arms.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Aidan spent the first several hours of the night holding his mate as she slept and conversing with his brethren through mind speak as they disposed of the bodies in the garage. The men that had attacked Grace were humans, definitely not hunters, and not wizards themselves, but apparently working with the bastards from the traces of black magic on the duffle bag they had stashed before going after his mate. Royce found a large file with information concerning an ongoing abduction case, along with masks, rope, duct tape, hunting knifes, another gun, and a key that they finally figured out operated an elevator at the back of the prosecutor’s office; all dirty with the stench of wizards’ magic.

  Lance found both security guards unconscious and tied up in a small storage room under the stairs, incredibly embarrassed that someone had gotten the jump on them. After a lot of fast talking, his brethren assured the guards that nothing had happened in the building and the men in question had been sent packing. Well, dead and sent packing were kind of the same thing. While Lance was finishing up with the guards, Royce had scented the office the file belonged in and returned it, hoping no one would know it had been taken.

  They gathered up Grace’s dropped belongings, removed any traces of a fight, and headed back to the apartment. Lance bitched nonstop about leaving his bike in Grace’s parking spot. Aidan couldn’t stand it anymore so he cut their connection. A little while later, he heard him park the car, and not long after, heard Royce securing his bike in the backyard. He had told Lance to leave Grace’s keys in the huge terracotta flower pot next to the back door. He waited another fifteen or twenty minutes, until the sound of their footsteps had all but faded, before he returned to the puzzle of Grace’s attack. From all his brethren had gathered, he was ninety percent sure she had not been the target, only a victim of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Not that that made Aidan any less furious, but it was a small consolation, and now he had somewhere to point all his pent up rage. He decided to contact Max again to see if his spies had information about the connection between the wizards and the prosecutor’s office.

  Grace had not moved a muscle during his conversations with the others of his Force, her breathing deep and even. She had already been tired from her crazy work schedule, and that along with the adrenalin crash, left her completely exhausted. He was glad she was resting and incredibly happy to just hold her in his arms. Willing all thoughts of criminals, hunters, and wizards from his head, he relaxed, thinking of the amazing woman in his arms. She had to be the strongest, sexiest, most amazing, int
elligent, and beautiful woman in the world, and she was all his. He breathed deeply, drawing her scent deep inside. He never wanted to be apart from her again. He was willing to do whatever it took to make that happen. He turned a little more on his side, wrapped his arms more securely around her, and stared over her head out the window. Completely lost in his thoughts, he almost missed Grace’s tiny whimper. He began rubbing little circles over her back, trying to calm her, but instead, she started squirming and mumbling in her sleep. He leaned back, looking at her face drawn in fear, her eyes scrunched tight; her restful sleep had changed into a full blown nightmare. He pulled her back into his arms and cooed comforting words, hoping she would calm. No matter what he tried, her struggles escalated, turning into thrashing, and before he could get them into a sitting position, she was screaming, “No!... No!... Stop!...Please stop…”

  Aidan pulled her into his lap and placed his hands on either side of her face, “Grace, baby, open your eyes!” he practically yelled into her face, trying to get her attention over her terror. She continued to scream, with tears running down her face. She punched at his chest and shoulders, fighting for all she was worth.