Dragon Heat (Dragons of Perralt Book 2)

by Sher Dillard

  Her heart raced as she watched Flint demolish the men, piece by piece. She wondered briefly if she should help. But, decided she would just get in the way. Besides, without her dagger, she’d be more hindrance than help.

  Within seconds, both men were laying on the ground moaning, writhing in pain.

  Flint brushed his hair out of his eyes as he turned back to address the Prince.

  “Jeff, Jeff, Jeff. You have a choice,” he said, giving the little man a menacing stare that would have killed larger men. “Give her back her locket, or die. There is no in between.”

  The Prince’s face had lost all color. Laila noticed that his eyes didn’t look so beady now. They were as wide and open as they had probably ever been.

  A sense of pure pleasure washed though her at the sight of the bully being brought low.

  The Prince’s hands shook as he tried to give her the locket back. Laila snatched it out of his hand less he drop it in the dirt. This item was too precious to her. The thought that this piece of filth had touched it made her shudder.

  She quickly opened it and confirmed that the coin was still inside. Smiling, she glanced at Flint and nodded her head, letting him know it was safe.

  Then, slowly, she turned back to look at the Prince. He seemed to relax when he saw that she was happy with the locket. His eyes reflected a sense of relief. As if he might get out of this without any pain or embarrassment.

  That was all she needed. Before he could react, she slapped him across the face as hard as she could. The resounding clap echoed through the garden.

  Her hand hurt so bad she had to shake it to try and get rid of the sting.

  “That was for taking my locket,” she said. “And, this is for groping me, you bastard.” Again, before he could react, she brought her knee up into his groin.

  The satisfying grunt the Prince gave out as he collapsed was one of those sounds that she would remember with fondness on her death bed.

  She heard Flint wince behind her, as the Prince fell to the ground like a forgotten promise.

  “What?” she said to Flint, “he deserved it.”

  Flint backed away, putting both hands up. “You don’t have to convince me. I’d have skinned him alive if you wanted me to. But, the look of pure joy as you delivered that hit. Makes a man think he should sleep light.”

  “You ever make me this mad,” Laila said, “you better sleep light.”

  Flint laughed and turned to lead her back to the house.

  He slammed to a halt and put a hand out to stop her from going any further.

  Eight Guardsmen were rounding the corner. And a big man with gray hair was yelling at them to hurry.

  Laila’s first thought was even Flint couldn’t disarm eight Guardsman. They had lost after all.

  Chapter Twelve

  Flint’s heart dropped at the sight of the new Guardsmen. He had hoped to get her out of this without any more fuss. Then he saw Mr. Gray egging them on. Swinging his arm for them to hurry.

  Damn, the bastard. He would make him pay. Somewhere, some time.

  Flint’s mind raced with different scenarios. Different ways their situation could play out. None of them looked good.

  Taking Laila’s arm, he began running deeper into the garden. Laila’s face had turned whiter than moonlight as she tried to keep up with him.

  As they turned the last corner, both of them slid along the gravel as they tried to stop. A ten-foot, solid brick wall greeted them.

  Flint glanced both ways. No gate in sight. Grumbling under his breath, he grabbed Laila around the waist. She squealed as he tossed her into the air, and onto the top of the wall like a bale of hay. Now was not the time to worry about what she thought or knew. Now was the time to act.

  Seeing that she would stay there and not fall off, Flint jumped and grabbed the top of the wall then pulled himself up.

  Laila looked at him, her eyes big and frightened. Flint wondered what scared her more, heights, being chased by guardsmen, or him, tossing her around like last week’s laundry?

  Before he could think of asking, the guardsmen came around the corner. Each of them halting in formation, staring up at them as if trying to figure out how they had gotten there.

  One of the Guardsmen stepped forward with a bow. Flint’s stomach clenched into a ball. He decided now was not the time to explain everything to Laila. Instead, he swung his legs over the edge and dropped to the ground.

  “Jump,” he yelled up at Laila, “I’ll catch you.”

  He had to give her credit, she didn’t hesitate. What is more, she didn’t need his help. She jumped down, her knees bending and absorbing the jump like an expert.

  Smiling up at him she said, “What?” “You’ve never seen a woman in an evening gown jump from a wall? You need to spend more time in Fifth Point.”

  Before he could answer, she pulled the hem of her dress up and began sprinting down the back road. Her shapely legs flashing in the moonlight.

  Flint shook his head then smiled, what a woman. Running after her he couldn’t stop from smiling. To hell with this place. To hell with his exile. For the first time in a long time, he was enjoying himself.

  Laila ducked down an alley to the right. Flint grabbed her arm before she could get too far.

  “Where are you going?” he asked.

  “Your house.” She answered as she tried to catch her breath.

  Flint shook his head. “They will be waiting for us. The City Watch will have been called. You slapped a prince, he’s not going to let that go.”

  “Well, you destroyed two of his Guardsmen and threatened to kill him. Not only that, you called him, Jeff. They don’t like that.”

  Flint nodded while he looked back down the road they had just come. No pursuit, not yet, but it was only a matter of time.

  “We have to leave the city. Now. No going home.”

  “What about Fifth Point? I know a dozen places we can hide.”

  “For how long?” he asked. “How long until someone collects the reward their going to put on our heads?”

  Laila’s brow narrowed with a deep frown.

  “Come on,” she said, as she took his hand and lead him down a dark alley. “I’ve got an idea.”

  Flint followed. “Are you sure?” he asked.

  She laughed. “You may be an expert when it comes to fighting. But, I’m an expert when it comes to getting away.”

  Laila led them deeper into town. Down alleys, over fences, and through a deserted warehouse. Flint’s stomach refused to relax. They were working their way into the heart of the city. There would be more people to see them. Even this late at night.

  Besides. Dressed as they were, they stood out like circus performers.

  Once again, Laila tugged on his hand as she turned into an alley and behind a shop.

  “Here we go,” she said, as she opened the door to a small shack.

  He hesitated a moment, looking around. It was her hovel. The one behind the baker’s. He quickly scanned the area, expecting the City Watch to jump out from the shadows at any moment.

  “We can’t hide here,” he said. “They will check this place as soon as they learn we haven’t returned home.

  “We’re not staying,” she said, as she pulled him into the small building.

  He had to duck his head as he followed her.

  She closed the door, then quickly lit a candle. Placing it on a rickety side table.

  Flint looked around. One room, a small bed, two pots, a bowl for water, and an old chair that looked as if it had been rescued from the junk pile.

  She lived here, he thought. Alone.

  “Unlace me,” Laila said, as she turned her back to him. “Hurry, we don’t have time.”

  Flint glanced at the bed, they really didn’t have time for this.

  “Get your mind out of the gutter,” she said with a frown.

  He shrugged his shoulders and quickly unlaced the back of her gown.

  “Now, my corset,” she said, as
the dressed slipped off her shoulders and fell to the ground.

  “What is this all about Laila? We should be getting out of town. Away from here as fast as possible.”

  “They are going to be looking for a large, nicely dressed man, and a woman in a blue evening gown. The first rule of escaping, never look like what they are looking for. Here, put these on,” she said, throwing him a pile of clothes. “There should be something in there large enough for you. I stole them from the blacksmith's clothesline last month. He’s a big guy.”

  Flint glanced at the clothes in his hands and smiled. Trust Laila to have a plan. He quickly removed his clothes and stepped into the woolen trousers. Glancing over, he caught Laila watching him. Her cheeks instantly turned pink as soon as he caught her. She turned away and focused on her on transformation.

  After he had pulled a white linen shirt over his head and replaced his boots he turned to find her finished and waiting for him.

  She had donned a simple black skirt and white peasant blouse. She had also lowered her hair then put a red and white scarf over her head and tied it behind her neck.

  Even in simple clothes, she was as beautiful as ever.

  She looked at him for a moment, then shook her head. “That blond hair of yours is kind of hard to miss.”

  He shrugged his shoulders again, “I’ll tell my mother to do better next time.”

  She laughed and took his hand. Peeking out the door, she scanned the road, then pulled him outside.

  The two of them started working their way out of the city. Laila knew every shadow. Every empty building.

  Twice, they almost ran directly into the City Watch. Both times, Flint could hear them approaching and pulled her in a different direction.

  Other than those two occasions, he let her lead. Following her, as she ducked and darted through the city.

  Flint followed her, fighting to keep the smile off his face. If she thought he was enjoying himself, she’d get mad. She was so serious. So determined to show him what she could do. He let her lead. What choice did he have? Besides, it did his soul good to see her happy.

  It took almost two hours to make the city’s edge.

  “I’ve never been this far,” Laila said, as they crouched next to a stable wall. Both of them stared out at the darkness beyond the city.

  “You did great,” Flint told her. “You got us out of the city, why don’t you let me take over from here,” he said. “I can see pretty well in the dark.”

  She looked at him strangely, then nodded her head.

  He took her hand, once again. A warm sensation of comfort traveled up his arm. The kind of feeling that could distract a man. The beast inside of him yelled, reminding him to focus. They were being pursued by half the City Watch, Prince Jeffery’s men, and the mysterious Gray man. Now was not the time to be thinking about how well Laila’s hand fit in his.

  “If we get separated. Find a place to hole up and I’ll find you.”

  She blanched as she looked up at him. He could well imagine the fears running through her. This was the wilderness. A horror of a thousand stories. A place of monsters and demons.

  “Don’t worry,” he added. “It is mostly small wooded areas and farms around here. Nothing to worry about.”

  “No bears, no wolves?” she asked, as she haltingly followed him into the dark.

  Flint laughed. “Not for a while, no bears, no wolves, and only a few dragons.”

  She stopped in her tracks and looked at him. Obviously, trying to determine if he was serious or not.

  He smiled at her, “I’m just kidding. There is nothing you need to fear around here. Not while I am with you.”

  She swung and hit him in the shoulder. “Don’t tease me, not here.”

  He laughed and rubbed his shoulder. Not because it hurt, but more to make her feel good. As if she could physically hurt him if she wanted. A little confidence could go a long way.

  Smiling, he began to lead her into a small wooded area and then across a large pasture.

  The two of them walked in silence. Avoiding farm houses and roads. Avoiding anything that might lead their pursuers to them.

  Flint looked up at the starry sky and thought of the woman next to him. At another time, this would almost be romantic. He wondered if she thought so. Or was she disappointed in losing her prince?

  They had traveled almost five miles when Laila tripped over a clump of grass. Flint grabbed her before she could fall. His arms slipping around her waist as if they belonged there.

  He looked down into her eyes. She’s tired, he realized. She can’t go on like this forever.

  Sighing to himself he looked back down their path. If he had been alone, he would have turned and faced them. Let them meet the beast just once and the pursuit would end quickly. But no, he couldn’t do that. Not without Laila learning the truth and despising him forever.

  The thought of her hating him sent a bolt of fear throughout his body. No, that could not happen.

  “Come on,” he said. “You’re out on your feet. We’ll find a place to hide for a while, rest up. Then, start out again.

  Laila could only weakly nod as she followed him into the trees.

  “Here, this will do,” he said, as he lifted a log onto another. Then, a third into place. Forming a nice tight fort. Although why he was doing so, he wondered. He didn’t have a sword, bow, not even a kitchen knife, with which to defend it. If they were discovered, their only recourse would be to run.

  “Will they find us?” she asked, as she sat on the ground and leaned against the log.

  He sat down next to her, sliding an arm around her shoulders and pulling her tight. Flint sighed and said, “No, I don’t think so. The City Watch will give up at the city’s edge. They don’t like going beyond their jurisdiction.”

  “Will the Prince really come after us? I mean. Why would he?”

  Flint laughed. “Oh, he will try. You saw what the man was like. I doubt he’s ever been hit in his life. Especially not by a beautiful woman. He will try.”

  Laila nodded and seemed to relax a little.

  “It’s not him I’m really worried about,” Flint said. “I think the men who trapped you in the alley are after us. I met their employer at the party.”

  Laila squirmed out from under his arm so that she could look directly at him.

  “The alley? Why? What did he look like?” Then her brow furrowed in concentration. “Really Flint, you can’t keep these things from me. What did he say?”

  Flint saw a hint of anger in her eyes.

  “I didn’t have time to explain,” he said, his own anger rising to match hers. “If you remember, I’ve been rather busy the last few hours. I’m telling you now.”

  She seemed to relax a little. As if his words had actually worked to convince her. She turned and slid back under his arm.

  “We can talk about it in the morning,” she said, as she yawned and settled her head on his chest.

  Flint laughed to himself. That was probably about as close as he was ever going to get to a ‘You’re right’.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Laila woke to a damn bird singing in a damn tree. The dark night had just started to turn gray. Not light enough to see any distance but, light enough to know the night was coming to an end.

  If the bird didn’t stop singing soon and let her get back to sleep, she was going to get up and hunt it down, and then, wring its’ damn little neck.

  She scrunched in closer to Flint. The man was warm, comfortable, and about as sweet to sleep next to as anything in this world.

  Even if it meant the hard ground for a bed and a log for his pillow. That was acceptable if it meant she got to cuddle up next to him. He might not want her. He might be perfectly willing to hand her off to some toad of a prince. But, the man was warm.

  He snored gently, his chest rising and falling with each breath. She smiled to herself as she listened to his heart beat. Strong and powerful in his chest. Like a mighty beast.
r />   Why couldn’t it be like this forever?

  The previous day’s events began to play out in her mind as she fought to tune out the bird. The dress, the party, the Prince. All of it flashed through her mind. The tingle in her hand when she slapped the Prince. The sight of Flint’s shoulders and strong back when he changed in her hovel.

  Everything was right there. Fighting for her attention.

  She thought of them running through the city. Of the walk through the dark fields, hand in hand. All of it was there. But, none of it mattered. Not even the fact they were being chased into the wilderness. No, nothing mattered. What was important was that she didn’t have to marry a fat prince, and she got to sleep in Flint’s arms one more time.

  Smiling to herself, she thought of their night together. The night before the party where she had waited for him. Of being carried up the stairs to his room.

  A flush of sensations traveled through her. Gritting her teeth, she had to fight the growing feeling as she tried to ignore the passion building inside of her.

  Flint!

  He smelled of pine and leather. His own unique aroma. All man. He felt hard and solid under her head. His arm was wrapped around her waist holding her close and secure.

  Oh, how she wanted him one more time. Her insides grew alive as she imagined him waking and taking her right there.

  But how? she wondered. How could she make him?

  Not for the first time, she regretted her lack of experience. Lady Emily would know. She would have Flint awake and wrapped around her little finger.

  Laila, she thought, you can do this. You are a woman, he is a man.

  Biting her lip, she allowed her hand to slowly travel down his hard stomach.

  He grumbled in his sleep but didn’t waken.

  Her heart raced, and her breath quickened as she gathered her courage to gently slide her hand into his pants.

  A gleeful sense of wantonness passed through her. She held her breath unless he waken, but the man didn’t stir. He was out to the world. So much for the watchful warrior, she thought as her hand slid over his maleness.

  He began to grow hard as soon as her hand wrapped around him. She marveled at the soft, velvety feel of his skin. Everything about this man was hard steel and sharp angles. Yet here, at his most intimate, there was soft skin over a rock hard shaft.