by Annie Dean
“Shh, it's all right, baby,” he murmured against her hair. He tightened his arms around her. “Kitty, I have to tell you something.” His voice sounded strained, as though he was struggling to keep his emotions in check.
Kitty held her breath, pressing her back against Jack's warm flesh for a moment, before turning in his arms to face him. “What?”
He cupped her face between his hands and brushed his lips against her forehead. “I've been thinking about this … really thinking about it. The thing is … all the weird stuff that's been happening…” He reached up to scratch the back of his neck and took a deep breath. “Baby, don't hate me for saying this … but I think it's all you.”
Kitty placed her hands on his bare chest. “You mean it's all in my head or I'm the one causing all of it?”
“No, it's definitely not all in your head.” A grim smile slashed across his face. “I don't know why I didn't piece it all together before. I'm a reporter, for God's sake. I'm always looking to connect things. But this … I don't know, maybe I was too close to the subject…” he pressed his palm against her lower back and pulled her tighter against him, “…that I couldn't stand back and view it objectively.”
Kitty couldn't help the shudder that ran through her body. “Jack, spit it out.”
“The ducks in Sheffield Park turning pink, the sunken boat turning up at the Red Dragon Bar, the giant naked statue appearing in front of your apartment, the fire in the park tonight … baby, they all happened when you were around.” His hands went back to her shoulders. “Somehow … you're causing all of this. I remember something the black guy said earlier, that your presence in this world is disrupting this reality. I haven't quite figured out how you're doing it, but Kitty … you're the common denominator.”
Kitty felt the blood drain out of her face. A bolt of fear, which felt like a frozen finger, dragged its way down her spine. “No, no it can't be.” But it could. She had been wandering around in Sheffield Park when the ducks turned pink.
Kitty felt her stomach tighten. A coldness unfurled from her gut, sprouting metal talons and clawing at her insides. Beads of sweat sprouted on her forehead and upper lip. Suddenly, she couldn't get enough air in her lungs and it felt as though there was a plastic bag over her head. Kitty attempted to slow down her breathing, but it was no use. Air sawed in and out of her mouth until she became light-headed. Little black dots appeared in her vision and she realized that if she didn't get her breathing in control, she was going to pass out very soon.
“Oh, hell. Kitty, look at me.”
She could hear Jack but his voice sounded garbled and far away, as though she was underwater and he was on the surface. Kitty tried to tell him she was okay, that she just needed a minute, but the burning in her lungs wouldn't let her do it. Jack touched her face with the tips of his fingers, his voice sounding increasingly alarmed. Finally, he steered her toward the sofa and pushed her down. He pressed her legs open, grabbed her head, and forcibly lowered it until her face was resting between her knees.
“Okay, baby, I'm right here.” Jack wrapped Kitty's fingers around his warm hand and used his other hand to keep them there. “We're going to breathe together, okay? Just follow my voice. One … two … three … four… Inhale. One … two … three … four … exhale. That's good, baby, you're doing great. One … two … three … four… Inhale.”
Kitty automatically obeyed Jack's commands, inhaling and exhaling as he ordered it. As though she were drowning, she grasped at the sound of Jack's voice like a lifeline, letting it flow over her body like water. As she continued to stare at the dirty beige carpet, her breathing slowed down and the humming in her ears died down to a soft white noise. After what seemed like an eternity, Kitty slowly raised her head and found Jack smiling gently at her.
He pushed Kitty's sweat-drenched hair out of her face. “You okay now?”
Kitty nodded weakly. Jack handed her a cup and she snatched it out of his hands, pouring its contents down her parched throat. Water. She wiped her mouth with the sleeve of her robe. When she opened her mouth to thank him, all that came out was a burp.
“That's my girl.” He sat down on the coffee table and took her hand in his, pressing his lips against her palm. “Do you have any idea why any of this is happening? Did you exhibit special … um … abilities as a child?” He looked embarrassed as he said this, but managed to keep his eyes on hers. “Maybe … that talking dragon knows what's going on? That scary fucker in the park seemed to know what he was talking about.”
Kitty bit her lower lip. “You believe me?” She chuckled and to her ears, it sounded eerily like a sob. “God, Jack, I'm not even sure I believe myself.”
“Sweetheart, I'm the biggest cynic in the world—hell, that's what I do for a living. I expose frauds.” He chuckled wryly and ran a hand over his hair. “But the things I've seen in the last twenty-four hours… I don't know.” He shook his head. “I'm prepared to believe in everything you say.”
Kitty enveloped Jack's hands between hers and bent her head to kiss his knuckles, savoring the feel of his warm, masculine skin against her lips. “Oh, Jack.” She felt like a sweater slowly unraveling with him pulling at a loose thread. “Lately I've been feeling like … my whole world was made up. That none of this is real.”
“Kitty, I can assure you I'm real.” He took her hand and placed it over his heart. It throbbed steadily and strongly under her palm. “Flesh and blood.”
Kitty Jones is an identity you created for yourself. Your memories, your feelings, all of it you manufactured for yourself so you could have, as you called it, a 'true human experience.' She could still hear the dragon in her head, but this time, his words actually made sense to her. It could be why she couldn't clearly remember a life that preceded the last month. It never existed. “This guy—this dragon thing, he told me I have to go home 'cause I don't belong here. But I…” She looked imploringly into his silver eyes. “I mean, this is all so … surreal to me. I feel like I'm stuck in a Tim Burton movie or something.”
Jack pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath as though he were trying to compose himself. “There … really is a talking dragon?”
“Uh-huh.”
Jack's silver eyes sharpened and he sat up a little straighter. “That's wild … what does he look like? Does he … uh … breathe fire?”
Kitty remembered waking up with the dragon lying next to her in bed and shivered. “Umm … a little more than seven feet tall. And big. I mean gladiator-big. And he's got red and gold scales all over his body and a snout like an alligator's. And I don't know if he breathes fire.”
Jack began to absently pat his chest and sides as though looking for something until he realized he was wearing only boxer shorts. He scanned the small living room until his glance landed on the pencil and notepad on the kitchen counter. His face brightened and he rose from the coffee table.
Kitty narrowed her eyes at him. “Jack, this isn't an interview. This is my life we're talking about.”
Jack stared at her for a moment before sitting back down. “Sorry. Old habits.” He cleared his throat. “So … this dragon … he's a biped? He doesn't have short, little arms like a T-rex or something?”
“No, he's actually pretty brawny. And Jack … he can shift forms. I mean, he could look like you, if he wanted. He usually goes for a blond guy who looks like a GQ model.”
Jack raised an eyebrow. “Are you saying you're attracted to him?”
“Well, that's the thing…” The question was posed with deceptive casualness. Kitty swallowed hard. She could feel Jack's heated stare on her skin. “He says I belong to him.” She didn't need to add that the dragon had stated it in a matter-of-fact manner. “I think that might mean I'm … uh … his mate or something.”
There was no emotion on Jack's face. But his jaw shifted and the sound of his teeth grinding together was as loud as a Mac truck downshifting. “How did you figure that?”
Kitty slid her fingers over her throa
t. Her skin was hot to the touch. She had never been frightened of Jack, but right now … well, he was making her a little nervous. “He seemed to know a lot about … well, the other me. He calls me … um … beloved.”
Jack studied her from beneath the hood of his eyelids. “Well, I call you baby and am finding out all sorts of things about you. Does that mean I have a claim on you too?”
“Jack…” Kitty crossed her arms over her chest. “We don't even know who or what I am. Don't you think we should try to figure out what's going on before you start getting all jealous? Would you still want me if I turned out to be some giant dragon thing?”
“Kitty, I would want you even if you turned out to be a beam of light. Sex would be a challenge, but I'm sure we could figure out a way.” He gripped her upper arms and raked his gaze over her body. “Not that I don't enjoy this body, mind you.”
Kitty was torn between wanting to throw her arms around him or shoving him away. A heavy pressure that felt like a sob began to build in her chest. “Jack, I'm not even supposed to be here. Remember what that guy in the park said? If I stay here any longer, I could destroy everyone. What if I snapped and turned into Godzilla or something?”
Jack moved from the coffee table to sit next to her on the couch, wrapping his arms around her. “I don't think you're going to turn in Godzilla, baby.” He nuzzled her hair. “He's a gigantic mutant dinosaur. We may not know what's going on with you, but I'm almost positive you're not a gigantic mutant dinosaur.”
Kitty slipped her arms around his waist and buried her face in his neck, inhaling his clean, masculine scent. “That's just it, Jack, we don't know that.” Her voice came out as a squeak.
“Actually, beloved,” said a deep voice that was mortifyingly familiar. “You do.”
Kitty raised her head. At least she was no longer alone in her delusions. From the way Jack had gone stiff in her arms, she could tell he could see the dragon too.
Chapter Eight
Jack stared at the creature standing in the corner of his living room, unable to believe what he was seeing. He looked just as Kitty described: seven feet tall, built like a gladiator, and covered in red scales. His large head was more reptilian than humanoid, but there was definitely intelligence in those snake-like green eyes. For some reason, he had a big motherfucking sword strapped to his back.
But he wasn't alone. Next to him was a taller, bulkier dragon wearing some kind of brass armor plate and black leather breeches. His scales were dark enough that they looked black, but in the light, Jack realized they had a blue-greenish tint to them. His eyes were the color of aged whiskey and burned with fury as he stared at Jack and Kitty. Jack noticed he didn't have a sword, but a glimpse at the creature's long, rapier-sharp talons told Jack he didn't need one. While there was a hint of amusement glinting in the red dragon's eyes, this other dragon just looked … pissed. And ready to swallow them whole.
Jack thought of the .357 Magnum he kept in his bedside drawer and wondered if he could go for it before the dragons tackled him to the ground and ripped his head off. Not that he was willing to leave Kitty alone with either of them. He looked down at himself. Great, he was about to get ripped in half by two giant dragon things and he was practically naked. Keeping his eyes on them, he reached for his pants on the table and slowly slipped them on. The red dragon looked at him with interest, but didn't pull out his sword and cut his head off. Jack stood up and fastened his pants. Beside him, Kitty had gone curiously still. She wasn't saying anything, just staring calmly at the two dragons. Jack held out his hand to her.
She ignored it and stood up on her own. With the confidence she had exhibited earlier in the park, she nodded at the red dragon. “Trystan.” She turned her head toward the dark dragon. “Gruffydd.”
“Kiyo,” the dragon called Trystan said amiably.
Jack couldn't help but gape at the red dragon. The smooth, velvet voice sounded completely unreal coming from him. Did the guy have a British accent, for fuck's sake? Jack buried his hands in his hair. “What the hell is going on here? Should I bust out my grandma's tea set now?”
Kitty looked up at him, a thoughtful expression on her elfin face. She lifted a hand and stroked his cheek with her fingers. “I'm sorry for this, Jack. I truly am.”
Jack froze. “What are you talking…”
The air surrounding Kitty shimmered. Before Jack could call out a protest, Kitty shifted into a slender version of the two male dragons. She was as tall as the red one, but delicately formed and shaped like a female. Her scales were a deep violet color with flashes of magenta in the light and her snout was a lot smaller than the males'. A white silky toga thing was draped gracefully over her form, so Jack couldn't see for himself if she retained her feminine parts, but the twin mounds on her chest told him what he needed to know. She was almost a foot taller than him now, but there was still something intrinsically … womanly about her.
She turned to face him, her hands propped on her slim waist and a challenging look in her violet eyes. “Well, looks like I'm a giant dragon thing after all, Jack.” She traced the ridge of his nose with one sharp talon. “Do you still want me?”
Her voice had the same breathy, musical lilt to it. It seemed to fit the creature somehow. Jack discovered it still had the power to arouse him.
An unnervingly deep chuckle disrupted the developing tension in the room and Jack realized without looking that it came from the dark dragon. He kept his gaze on Kitty … no, Kiyo. The expression in her violet eyes dared him to find her repulsive. But he couldn't. He reached up and cupped her angular jaw in his palm. “Yes.”
She tilted her head to the side. “I could tear you in half.”
“Yes.” He slid his hand to her throat, caressing the vein he found there with his thumb. Kitty. She would always be Kitty to him. “But you wouldn't.”
She slipped her hands around his neck, pulling him toward her. She rubbed her snout against his temple, her forked tongue flickering out to touch his lips. Jack looked up at the beautiful serpentine face, feeling absolutely no fear that she would hurt him. He stroked his hand up her bare arm. Her scales felt surprisingly slick under his palm.
“For the love of all that is holy, Kiyo, either finish him or leave him alone. It is cruel to torture him like this!” said the dragon called Gruffydd.
Without letting go of Jack, Kitty glanced over her shoulder at the dark dragon. “Don't tell me you've developed sympathy for this mortal, Gruff. Weren't you the one threatening to yank his spine out of his mouth just a few hours ago?”
Gruffydd issued a growl so deep that the walls of Jack's apartment shook slightly. “I tire of this world, that's all. I don't know why you're so fond of it. These creatures are small and petty—look how he trembles in disgust beneath your touch—and the horrible stench of their human misery… I vow, I cannot stand it another second.”
“Why does he sound like a bad Shakespearean actor from Cambridge?” Jack whispered in an obvious aside to Kitty.
Her violet eyes flashed with amusement and she eased her hold around his throat. With a sigh, she released his neck and set him away from her. “Do I disgust you, lover?”
Jack put his hands on her waist and slowly slid them up to her sides until his palms were cupping her breasts. “No.” He struggled to swallow past the well of emotion threatening to choke him. Standing on the tips of his toes, he brushed his lips against the side of her face.
“Ugh. I may throw up.” The red dragon crossed his arms over his impossibly wide chest and propped his shoulder against the wall. “Don't you see that she's already made her decision, Gruffydd? She would never have shown him her true form if she didn't love him. She was testing him, you see.” He shifted out of his dragon form to that of a blond pretty boy wearing an expensive-looking gray suit. “And he passed with flying colors. Because he was able to see past her disgusting scaly façade, he gets to keep the girl.”
Jack rounded on the dragon, eyes blazing. “She is not disgust…”
>
“Oh, shut up, mortal.” The corners of the blond man's mouth quirked up in a crooked smile. “You've won. I'm gracefully bowing out. Don't make me have to cut you up. I know Kiyo is rather fond of your ugly flesh-puppet face.”
“Trystan…” Kitty began.
There was a flicker of something akin to pain on the dragon's face, but it was gone before Jack could analyze it.
“Don't, Kiyo,” the dragon whispered. “Just … don't.”
Jack's gaze volleyed between Kitty and the blond man. The tension between the two of them was so thick that even the dark dragon in the corner looked uncomfortable. Jack touched Kitty's shoulder. “What's going on?”
Kitty shook her head and looked away from him.
“Well, mortal, let me put you out of your misery and explain it to you in a way that your inferior human brain can comprehend,” the dark dragon said dryly despite a warning growl from the other dragon. In a flash, he morphed into a skinny teenaged girl wearing tight jeans and a halter-top, complete with pigtails and braces. “Trystan loved Kiyo, Kiyo loved Trystan. But Kiyo was not happy. She wanted something else. She needed a break.” The lower lip of the ridiculous cupid's bow mouth pooched out in a pout. “So Kiyo decided to put a spell…”
The growl came from Kitty this time. “Stop it, Gruffydd.”
The dark dragon shifted out of his teenaged girl shell and transformed into the giant black guy who had assaulted them in the park, this time dressed in black jeans, a black tank top, and a black leather duster. Seemingly for effect, he also added a pair of dark aviator sunglasses. He turned to look at the other male dragon. “I'm getting rather bored of all this, Trystan. I'm ready to go home. Either we zap the mortal's brains so he forgets all of this and drag Kiyo home with us. Or…” he looked pointedly at Jack, “…we kill the mortal and drag Kiyo home with us.”
