Fire In His Kiss: A Post-Apocalyptic Dragon Romance (Fireblood Dragon Book 2)

by Ruby Dixon

  I must have fallen asleep while crying, because I wake up a short time later, my cheeks wet and my head aching. It feels unnaturally quiet in the store, and I blink, trying to rouse myself. Dakh?

  There’s no response. He must still be out of range.

  I shouldn’t have driven him away. Now I’m irritated at myself as well as everyone else. His big, bronze chest would be nice to snuggle up against and have a good cry. I’m not mad at him. Heck, I’m not really mad at Claudia anymore.

  I’m just really, really disappointed in everyone. I wish I didn’t care so much, but I do.

  I close my eyes, about to drift back off to sleep when I smell something…awful. Skunky and rotten and a little too familiar. It reminds me of Emma’s deer urine scent, except she said she was out. I open my eyes, frowning.

  And then I hear voices.

  Male voices.

  “You’re sure the dragon’s gone?”

  “Yeah, he flew off a while ago. That’s why we’ve got to be fast. Come on. She’s this way.”

  My body grows stiff with fear. That low, cold voice sounds like…Tate. But why is he here? And why is he disguising his scent? I reach over the side of my mattress, looking for a weapon. There’s nothing but books and crackers. With Dakh around, I have no need for a weapon, ever. I’ve been so careless, not thinking to equip myself…

  And sending my dragon away. God, I am such an idiot. I sent him away and now Tate’s back.

  Is he…here to murder me? I clutch a thick paperback, ready to chuck it at his head the moment he comes around the corner. I get to my feet, padding a few steps forward. If I can get over to the next aisle, my kitchenware stuff is there, and I’ve got a knife…

  “Oh no you don’t,” says another voice, right behind me.

  Before I can turn around, something thick and heavy is tossed over my head and I’m flung to the ground. I cry out, my cheek banging against the hard floor.

  “Got you,” says the voice, and something—someone—heavy lands on my back. He grabs one arm and twists it behind me brutally, then the other. A moment later, handcuffs are put around my wrists, tight and painful.

  “Who are you? What do you want?” I call out, frantic. Under the bag, it’s hot and musty, and I feel like I can’t breathe. Dakh, I mentally scream. Dakh! Hear me!

  “You got her? Good.” I hear Tate’s voice again. “She’s heavier than I remember.”

  “Guess sucking a dragon’s dick feeds her better than you did,” guffaws another.

  “Very funny.” Tate’s voice is as cold as ever. “Unless you want to suck the dragon’s dick, you’ll shut up and concentrate on getting her out of here. No one’s going to want to be around when he gets back and figures out his little girlfriend is missing.”

  “Shit no,” says another, laughing. He sounds young and reckless—he’d have to be, if he’s helping Tate out.

  “Let me go,” I beg them. “Please. I haven’t seen your faces. I won’t tell him you were here. Take whatever you want from the store. I won’t say anything, I promise.”

  “All right,” Tate says, and my heart skips a beat for a moment. Is he really going to let me go? “You boys heard her talking.”

  For a moment, I’m shocked. Did that work?

  “She’s a yapper,” Tate continues. “That means we need to shut her up in case the dragon can hear her.”

  Shit! No, no no no no. “Please—”

  “Who’s got the spray?” A pause. “Rick, do your thing.”

  Spray? Thing?

  A hand touches my face through the burlap bag over my face, and I splutter.

  “Hold still, girlie.”

  A moment later, something hard and heavy hits me across the back of the head. Red fireworks bloom behind my eyes, and then everything fades to black.

  41

  DAKH

  An hour without my mate passes endlessly. I sit atop one of the crumbling nests in Old Dallas, waiting. I do not know how long it has been since she sent me away, but I hate every moment of it. I want to feel the touch of my Sasha’s mind. I want to hear her laughter. I want to breathe in her scent.

  I want her. All of her. I want to make her tears go away. I want her to realize how much she means to me. How I am nothing without her.

  Instead, I must sit here and wait for her to finish crying, alone. I test the faint bond in our minds, but it is too far away for me to see how she is feeling, only that she is there. Growling in frustration, I fling a rock off the ledge of my perch and watch it fall to the ground far below.

  Dakh…is that you? Kael’s thoughts are faint, but surprised. Why have you returned?

  My mate is angry.

  Ah. So is mine. Kael’s thoughts are tired. She is hurt that we did not go after your mate. She feels that your mate will think she is betrayed. My Claudia has been raging and weeping all night. She will not listen to reason.

  I sigh. My Sasha is the same. She sent me away because she did not wish to have me in her head.

  Having a mate is difficult at times, Kael agrees. I have tried explaining to my Claudia that we did not chase you after that fight because she was gravely injured. She nearly died. Yet she still feels she has let your mate down and is upset.

  I vaguely remember him telling me such things before. It was not something I remembered, but perhaps it would ease my Sasha to be reminded of this. Then again, perhaps not. She knows your mate was injured, I tell him. Her feelings are hurt. I will try to calm her when I go back. She feels betrayed right now.

  Then how do we fix this? How do we calm our mates?

  My friend, if you think I knew how to calm an upset mate, would I be out here in your territory, hiding from mine?

  I can feel Kael’s rumble of tired laughter. You are right. He pauses. I have not told my mate that we need to find her sister a drakoni mate. The girl’s scent grows stronger every day that passes, and our nest gets more and more interest—from both angry females and interested males. I cannot keep them away forever, and I cannot send her back to the human hive, so I must find her a mate. Somehow. My Claudia, she will not like this idea. She wants to protect her sister always.

  Does she not realize that the best way to protect her is to find her a strong drakoni mate? He will keep her safe from all others.

  My mate will not hear of such things. I suspect this is what humans call a “blind spot.” She has far too much emotion to think logically about such matters.

  That sounds like my Sasha, tonight. All hurt feelings and betrayal. Then I shall save you a spot here on my perch. It sounds as if you will need it soon enough.

  Ash take you, Kael sends back. They are emotional, but I would not trade my Claudia for anything in this world…or the one we left.

  I know his feelings. I am the same with my Sasha. She thinks I did not pick her, but how can I explain that she has been my heart since the moment I laid eyes on her? The moment she made my thoughts clear and free from madness? I knew she was mine in that instant. That I was changed from that point on.

  Perhaps…you should tell her just that?

  Perhaps.

  His thoughts touch mine once more in a faint goodbye, and then he is gone.

  I lift my head and catch the scents on the breeze, checking for prey. Perhaps I should eat something before returning to my mate, but there is nothing that appeals. I am not hungry while she is miserable. Her happiness is tied to mine. When I can wait no longer, I extend my wings and launch myself into the air, determined to fly back to my mate. I will tell her how much she means to me. I will fill her head with sweet thoughts so she knows that she is loved, and then I will claim her fiercely, over and over, to show her just how deep my feelings for her are.

  I will leave her no doubts that she is everything to me.

  My wings beat fast, and I am eager to return to her side. I picture her in our bed, alone, her dark hair falling across her cheek as she weeps. I will kiss away her tears and push her down on the bed as she likes. I will send her fierce, carn
al thoughts that will leave her in no doubt to how her Dakh feels about his mate.

  I fly into range and realize that my Sasha is yet silent. My mate? I send out to her, testing. Her mind is there, but there is no answer, her thoughts a quiet drift. She is asleep, then. This pleases me. I will wake her up with my tongue.

  But as I approach the place we have made our nest, it is not my Sasha that I smell on the breeze.

  It is another. A stranger. The scent is thick with the awful musk that the human Emma uses, and I cannot tell if it is one stranger or many. All I know is that the scent is all over our nest, and rage boils through me, coming with a burst of ravens and darkness.

  Kill him, they cry. He dares to approach your mate. She is unsafe.

  This time I do not push the ravens away. I welcome their dark thoughts. These humans will get no mercy from me. To invade a drakoni’s nest? To come after his mate in their lair? It is unheard of, and for that he will pay with a violent, painful death.

  Yes, the ravens whisper. Do it. Make them pay.

  Someone dares to invade my nest, and my Sasha sleeps, unaware? In a haze of rage, I fly as fast as I can, fire pluming from my nostrils. I cannot contain my flame, not when my mate’s safety is at stake. Sasha, I call out again, determined to rouse her from her sleep. Wake!

  But there is no answer. There is never an answer, no matter how many times I call to her.

  I slam to the hard ground in front of the double doors, landing so hard that the glass in them shatters. I do not care. My only thought is for my mate. Sasha! I reach out to her mind, but there is still no answer. I lift my head, seeking her scent.

  It is old. Stale.

  With a bellow of fury, I charge into the building, still in battle form. Shelves crash and fall over. Carts are flung about madly as I rush inside, and I do not care. All that matters is my Sasha. My Sasha, who I cannot reach and whose scent is cold.

  When I get to her bed, it is empty. She is gone, her smell faint and polluted by the stink of the other who has stolen her.

  Someone has touched my mate.

  Stolen her.

  He will die, the ravens assure me.

  I bellow my outrage to the skies and let loose my flame.

  42

  SASHA

  My head feels like it was cracked open.

  A little involuntary moan escapes me as I rouse to consciousness again, my thoughts groggy. Dakh? I try, but there’s no response. It takes me a moment to realize what happened. Tate came back, and he brought thugs with him. They knocked me over the head, and I don’t know where we’re at now or where Dakh is. I test my wrists, locked tight behind my back, but they’re still cuffed. I’m lying on my side on something that feels a bit like a sofa, and there’s a blindfold over my eyes, blocking my vision. And I still smell deer urine.

  This is all really, really weird.

  Why all the big fuss to kidnap me? I don’t understand. I’m trying not to be scared. I need to be calm, to figure things out. If they wanted me dead…I’d already be dead. So there must be a reason behind this. “Hello?” I call out, and my voice is dry and cracked. My mouth feels like I’ve been chewing on a dirty sock. “Is anyone there?”

  “Shut up,” Tate growls somewhere close by. That must be where the deer urine scent is coming from.

  I stiffen. “Why did you kidnap me, Tate? What the hell is going on?”

  “I said, shut up,” he hisses again. “Or you’re going to call them over here.” There’s a clink, and I can hear his weight shift, and it confuses me. Is he…is he chained up, too?

  I test my cuffs, and sure enough, they make the same sound that Tate’s clinking does. If that’s the case, then why would I listen to anything he says? “Tell me what’s going on. Why steal me away? Why—”

  “Sasha, goddamn it,” Tate’s voice is low and fierce. “I’ll tell you what I can, just keep your fucking voice down, all right?”

  He sounds a little…scared. Weird. And alarming. “All right,” I whisper. I twist my wrists in the cuffs, trying to see if I can loosen them or squeeze my hand out, but no dice. “Tell me what’s going on. Who’s in charge here?”

  “Nomads,” he says flatly.

  That makes me a little alarmed. No one likes nomads. In this day and age, “nomad” means lawless thugs who don’t play nice with others. That’s the very reason they’re nomads. In a land full of lying, cheating thieves, they’re the worst of the bunch. “Why are you working with nomads?” I whisper.

  “I’m. Not.” He grinds out the words, and I hear the clink of his cuffs again. “They captured me before I could get back to Fort Dallas, thanks to your dragon boyfriend dumping me in the middle of nowhere.” His weight shifts. “I made a deal with them—I’d give you to them in exchange for my freedom.”

  “Wow, aren’t you a fucking Prince Charming,” I mutter. “If this isn’t working with them, what are you doing?”

  “They betrayed me,” he snarls. “They were supposed to let me go after they nabbed you. That was the exchange. Fucking bastards grabbed you and then tossed me in here with you.”

  Good, I want to bite back at him. But I need more answers, and as long as he’s talking, I need to try to get them. “Where exactly is ‘here’? I can’t see anything.”

  “That’s because they don’t want your dragon to find you.”

  I’m startled by that. How does he know that I can communicate with Dakh telepathically? I never said anything to Tate. “What are you talking about?”

  He sighs. “I don’t fucking know. They said he can see through your eyes or something.” Tate rustles again. “So if you want to call your scaly boyfriend over and have him rescue us, that’d be fantastic. And sooner better than later.”

  “Why? What happens later?” I don’t point out the fact that my Dakh wouldn’t be keen on saving him, or that I can’t hear Dakh at all right now. I try to send my mind out to reach my dragon, but all I’m getting is silence, and I’m scared. What if they’ve done something to him? I want to kick myself for sending him away. My Dakh. I had the best, most wonderful partner ever, and I pushed him away because I was angry.

  Never again, I vow. If my feelings get hurt or if I feel betrayed in the future, I’m going to suck it up and deal with a dragon in my head. The thought of anything happening to him is utterly unbearable, and I have to fight back more tears. My Dakh.

  “Why do they want him? What do they think they can do with a dragon? A very angry, very unlikely to cooperate dragon?”

  “I don’t know,” Tate is saying. “I told you, I don’t know anything.”

  “You know more than I thought you did. How did you know to mask your scent?”

  “All these guys do,” he tells me. “It’s a little trick they have, among others. Listen, Sasha, you need to get your dragon boyfriend here, and quick. These guys have some sort of plan, and I’m sure it’s not a good one. I—” He goes silent abruptly.

  “What?” I ask. “What is it?” I tilt my head, trying to see from under the blindfold, but all I can make out is a faint line of light.

  No response from Tate.

  There’s a sound like a door opening.

  I lift my chin, as if raising my head will somehow help me figure out what’s going on.

  Footsteps. Several of them. My skin prickles with awareness, and I realize there’s a strange smell, like thick, spicy cologne. It’s not unpleasant, unlike the smell covering Tate. It’s actually familiar and comforting, though I can’t exactly place it.

  “I see our newest little friend is awake,” comes a strange, smoky voice. His accent is odd and thick, as if English isn’t his native language. “Hello, Sasha.”

  I sit upright, doing my best not to let my confusion show. “Who’s there?”

  “No one important,” the man says with a small, amused chuckle. “How is your head?”

  “It hurts,” I say guardedly.

  “They really shouldn’t have hit you over the head with a bat. Humans are so very…fragi
le.”

  That sounds awfully familiar. My skin prickles again, and I squint through the blindfold, wishing I could see. “Do I know you?”

  “I’m afraid not. But I look forward to getting to know you better.”

  That sounds…ominous. Most men who want to get to know a woman better only want one thing, and I’m not willing to give it. “Then can I have my hands uncuffed?”

  The stranger makes a sympathetic noise. “I’m afraid not. We do need to keep you blindfolded to keep your location a mystery. I’m sure you understand, my dear.”

  “Azar, we had a deal,” Tate interjects. “I’d show you where to find the dragon’s girlfriend, and in exchange, you’d let me go back to Fort Dallas.”

  I mentally file the name away. Azar. Azar. I’m going to remember that.

  “Yes, we had a deal,” Azar says in that curious voice of his. “And you did an admirable job of retrieving the female for us. But how can we be sure that this is the dragon’s mate? She does not look like the type to entice a gold dragon.”

  “I swear she is. He attacked me—hunted me down because I had a relationship with her in the past. Trust me, it’s her.”

  I snort. I can’t believe I was ever afraid of this douchebag.

  Azar chuckles. “You do not agree with his statement, Sasha?”

  “I just thought it was interesting how quick he is to run his mouth and sell me out,” I comment, keeping my tone light. “Thanks for that, Tate. I’m sure all of Fort Dallas will sleep better tonight knowing you’re going to be around to protect them from Big Bad Sasha.”

  “Aha. So it seems I am not the only one to notice your lack of loyalty,” Azar continues in that smooth, accented tone. “And that is why you find yourself here, my friend. I truly do wish you could return to Fort Dallas, but how do I know you will not tell them all about me and my band of men? About our tactics for avoiding dragons? That would interfere with any plans I have, and I do not think I could allow that. Not after I have been so careful.”