Flames & Fervor

by Daniella Starre

  But she had seen the others, told them she’d seen a dragon. Maybe we should try to convince her she’d seen something else.

  The truth… We couldn’t trust her with the truth. That was too much to ask for a human to handle. The fright alone from the realization that dragons existed, that there were dragon shifters, could easily cause a human to have a heart attack.

  Hmm. There was no purse in here. Maybe she had her wallet in a pocket.

  I slid my hand underneath the sheet and reached toward the pocket nearest to me.

  Her eyes opened, a bright green color. I shifted back slightly so that she wouldn’t realize what I had been doing.

  “Who are you?” she asked.

  “I’m unimportant.” I flashed her a smile. “Who are you? How are you feeling?”

  “I’m thirsty, but otherwise I have no complaints.” She hesitated and then easily sat up. “I don’t suppose you can tell me what happened?”

  “How would I know?” I shrugged. “Why don’t you tell me, chica?”

  She wrinkled her nose in disgust.

  “You don’t like to be called chica?” I couldn’t help winking at her. “Then tell me your name.”

  “What if I don’t want to?” she asked, lifting her chin defiantly.

  I grinned. All right, there was something about her that I liked already. Spunk. She was spunky, and she had fire. A spitball. A firecracker. Of course I could appreciate that.

  “Fine. Don’t tell me, Chica. No more wine for you. No tacos. No cheesesteak. No cheesecake.”

  She sat up straighter. “Got any chocolate?”

  “Maybe. In exchange for your name.”

  “Chocolate and more wine first. I might, big might, tell you my last name too if you have chocolate-covered strawberries.”

  “They your weakness?” I asked.

  The woman brushed her hair back. “I have no weakness.”

  “None but…” I hesitated. “What did you tell my friends? What hurt you?”

  “I’m not hurt.” She blinked a few times. “In fact, I can get up and leave right now, can’t I?” she challenged.

  I shrugged. “Sure you can, but no chocolate and no wine then.”

  She burst out laughing. “You’re assuming I won’t have any at home.”

  “You won’t have my stellar company at home.”

  The woman shook her head and brought her hand up toward her temple. “I don’t need company,” she mumbled.

  The spark she had showed was dulling some. She had recovered but not completely, not yet at least.

  I sat down on the edge of the bed. “I’ll get you whatever you want in a few. First, I want to make sure you’re all right.”

  “Just peachy,” she murmured.

  “You’re looking a little pale. Maybe water would be a better choice.”

  “Trust me, after what I saw… after being attacked… I need something stronger.”

  “What attacked you?”

  She glowered at me. “Why don’t you tell me who you are? Why I’m here? How did I get here? You’re lucky I’m not freaking out or calling the police.”

  “You like the police?”

  Her eyebrows lifted sky high. “You don’t? Why is that?”

  “You like to ask a lot of questions.”

  “You like to evade answering them,” she said.

  “So do you,” I pointed out.

  “I’m the one here against my will.”

  “You can leave if you want.” I gestured toward the door.

  She swallowed hard. “I know I can. It’s just…”

  “What?” I asked.

  The woman glanced at the window and the nighttime sky.

  “I can drive you home,” I offered.

  “I don’t tend to accept rides from strangers,” she said dryly.

  “But you’ll accept food and drink.”

  “Yes?”

  I laughed that she’d made the word a question. “Seriously, are you feeling all right? Do you need any medicine?”

  “I’m fine. I don’t know how, but I’m fine.”

  I stood. “I’ll be right back, chica.”

  “Don’t call me that!”

  I waved over my shoulder since I was already at the door. Swiftly, I descended the stairs to the kitchen. The three of us leaders lived together in a mansion. From the kitchen, I grabbed two wine glasses and a fresh bottle of Moscato. I placed them on a tray and then grabbed some chocolate. Tossed it into a bowl. Slowly nuked it until it was all melted. From the fridge, I grabbed some strawberries. Placed the bowl and the strawberries on the tray and made my way back to her room. I breathed easier when I saw that the other two hadn’t come in.

  Her eyes widened in delighted surprise when she saw my offerings.

  “For you, chica.”

  Before I could place the tray on the bed, she had already grabbed and dunked a strawberry. She held it over her other hand and took a bite. “Yum.”

  “You missed a spot.”

  She licked her lips.

  “Still there.” I leaned over and used my thumb to wipe the chocolate from above her lips. My cock stirred as I thought about tracing her lips or having her suck the chocolate from my thumb. Stupid. I’d only just met her. When I’d been younger, I would’ve screwed her and forgotten about her. Now that I was one of the three leaders, I didn’t have time to just mindlessly fuck my way through life.

  Besides, she could still be a threat to us.

  “Aren’t you going to have any?” she asked as she had another one.

  “I will. Don’t worry.” I opened the wine and poured her a healthy amount. I gave myself the same.

  She tapped her glass to mine. “Cheers.”

  “To making new friends,” I said.

  “To being honest with new friends,” she countered.

  “Cheers.” I swallowed a single gulp, while she downed several more.

  “You okay?”

  “Still peachy.” She bit into her strawberry. “Or strawberry-y?” She giggled.

  “Ah. A light weight,” I teased.

  “I think I lost a lot of blood,” she whispered, leaning closer as if sharing a secret.

  “During the attack?”

  She nodded.

  “Drink up.”

  The woman narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “You want me to drink so I’ll tell you more.”

  “That’s a terrible accusation,” I protested.

  “Is it?” she countered. “What happened to toasting to being honest?”

  “The fact remains that is a terrible accusation, whether or not it’s true.”

  She tilted her head to the side. “Touche.”

  “Sometimes, drinking can help to soothe a person after a traumatic event. I don’t know what happened. I wasn’t there. You’d have to fill me in.”

  “What if I don’t want to talk about it?”

  “Fine.” I drank another gulp. “I’m Miguel Ramirez Lopez.”

  She smirked. “Audrey.”

  “Got a surname, Audrey? Or should I just call you Audrey Chica?”

  “Go ahead and call me that,” she said. “I won’t answer.”

  “Hmm.” I took a strawberry and dipped it into the melted chocolate. The top layer was beginning to cool already, so I had to use some force to get to the gooey chocolate beneath.

  “Not bad, huh?” she asked.

  “Not bad at all,” I agreed.

  We talked about nothing important, eating and drinking. I kept pace with her. By the time we finished the bottle, she was side-eyeing me.

  “Do you have a dragon tattoo too?” she blurted out.

  “Are you drunk?” I asked, suppressing a laugh.

  “No…”

  “Why does that not sound convincing?”

  “If you want me to talk, you’re gonna have to talk too,” she said stubbornly. “Do you?”

  I yanked off my shirt, threw it onto the floor, and flexed. On my right shoulder was a dragon identical to Francesc
o’s on his left shoulder and to the massive one on Damon’s chest.

  “Why do you and the other guy have dragons on you?” she asked curiously.

  “Why not? Dragons are amazing, aren’t they? Majestic creatures.” I winked. “Handsome creatures.”

  The last few times I winked at her, she had laughed or smiled in return. This time, her frown deepened.

  “I was attacked,” she said slowly.

  “By?”

  “A winged creature. A huge one. It breathed fire.” She exhaled loudly. “A dragon. I was attacked by a dragon, and there was a second one, and you and the other guy have dragon tattoos, and that can’t be a coincidence.”

  “Life can be full of coincidences,” I protested.

  She shook her head. “Everything happens for a reason.”

  “Huh. So you were always supposed to have chocolate-covered strawberries with me.”

  “You should’ve added some peanut butter to it,” she said. Her green eyes lit up. “Chunky peanut butter.”

  “Next time.”

  Her eyebrows rose again. “You really think there will be a next time?”

  “Why not? Haven’t we been having fun?”

  “Hmm. I think you’re trying to deflect and avoid answering questions again.”

  “Who, me? Never.” I shook my head emphatically.

  She giggled. “Yes, you.”

  “If you want to wait until the morning to talk about what happened to you…” I offered.

  She narrowed her eyes. “You don’t want to hear it now?”

  “There’s more than the supposed dragon attacking you?”

  She exhaled through her nose. “It was a dragon. I know what I saw. There were two of them. And… you want to know the crazy part?”

  “Shoot.”

  Audrey leaned forward. “There were two other guys in here earlier. I swear one of them had the eyes of the dragon.”

  “Which dragon?” I asked, doing my part to play it cool.

  “Not the one that attacked me. The one that attacked the first dragon.”

  She touched her side. “I was bleeding. Hurt badly. I think I had crushed or bruised or broken ribs. Maybe a punctured lung. So much blood loss… But I’m healed. It’s so weird. It’s as if…”

  “As if what?”

  “You don’t think I’m crazy?” she asked.

  “Now who is trying to change the subject?”

  “Are dragons real?” she challenged.

  Well, shit. How could I answer that?

  Chapter 7

  Audrey Wright

  Miguel’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly, and I knew he was considering his words carefully. Whatever words that would next come out of his mouth could very well be a lie. I hated that, and if he did lie to me, I would be so disappointed. He seemed like a great guy even if he did seem secretive. It was as if he had walls up that he didn’t want me to get into. Which, of course, made me want to get to know him that much more.

  So stupid of me. Because I needed to have the hots for a guy right now, especially a guy who just might have a connection to a dragon.

  “Are dragons real?” I asked again. I had to know the answer. No guarantee he would know the answer, but still, I could hope.

  “Yes,” he mumbled.

  My eyebrows shot up, and I leaned forward and grabbed his hand. “Yes?” I repeated eagerly. “You aren’t lying!”

  His chuckle was a little weak. “You always think guys are gonna lie to you? Audrey, chica, you need new friends.”

  “I need friends who don’t call me chica.”

  I was still holding his hand, and our fingers were interlaced. Whoops. I didn’t pull away, though.

  “Do you know the dragon that attacked me?” I asked. “What about the other that attacked the first? Have you seen a dragon before? How do you know they’re real?”

  “I…” Miguel hung his head. “I shouldn’t say.”

  Immediately, I closed up, hurt and confused. “Fine. Don’t. Whatever. I should go.”

  I shoved the covers aside, stood, and immediately sat back down. The wine had gone straight to my head. I could barely stand.

  “Slow down, chica.”

  “You gave me that wine on purpose,” I accused.

  He just gave me a look. “You drank it. I didn’t pour it down your throat.”

  I opened my mouth and then shut it. He had a point.

  “Sleep, Audrey. We will talk in the morning.” He put this tray on top of the other one, pulled the covers up beneath my chin, and kissed my cheek. I’d wanted to turn my face at the last second so we would kiss, but my reflexes were so slow right now.

  Miguel waved and left.

  I hated being alone in this room. Hated it with a passion. It wasn’t the smallest of rooms, but it only had the one bed in it. Honestly, it felt more like a cell than a bedroom.

  Maybe I should get out of here, wherever here was. Maybe I could find my way back if I needed to.

  Who was I kidding? I wasn’t in condition to hitch a ride. I couldn’t drive myself, and walking was out.

  So, basically, I was stuck here.

  Ugh.

  I couldn’t sleep, though, so I stood up and paced, back and forth.

  A dragon. A fire-breathing dragon was going around killing people and slicing their torsos to ribbons.

  But why? And how could we stop it? Through death or… would it be possible to capture one of them?

  I turned to continue pacing but moved too quickly and knocked the canopy cover off the bed. Stomping over, I retrieved it, tried to get the dust out, and put the cover back up on the tall-four-posture bed. The curtains had been tied back, and I had to redo them.

  The faintest of noises sounded from the door. I stiffened and then crossed over to the peephole. The hotter guy from this morning was here.

  Maybe he’d talked to Miguel. Maybe he wanted to get the answers directly himself. Whichever the case, I opened the door.

  “Come in,” I said with a sweep of my arm. I burst out laughing, not even sure what was so funny.

  The man didn’t seem too pleased.

  “I’m Audrey.” I held out my hand for a shake.

  “Damon King,” he offered. My word, was his mouth sexy, his voice dreamy, his body solid and like a rock.

  “So, tell me, Damon,” I said slowly, “do you have a tattoo?”

  “I do.”

  “Can I see it?”

  He ripped his shirt. Literally. Granted, it had some blood stains on it and I had spied a small hole. Still, the whole shirt hadn’t needed to be completely ripped apart into two.

  Not that I was gonna complain. His chest was huge, and that dragon tattoo was amazing. So huge and what in the world was I doing? I was touching it. I should yank my hand away and step back, but I didn’t. What was I expecting to feel? Dragon scales? The intense heat of flames? Damon’s body was warm, maybe a little warmer than normal, but all I felt was solid muscle and smooth skin.

  I hadn’t gotten a super close look at the first guy’s tattoo, but I had seen Miguel’s up close.

  “Your tattoo and Miguel’s aren’t just similar. They’re identical. The other guy also had one.”

  Damon nodded. “Francesco. Francesco Marino.”

  “Italian,” I murmured.

  Damon nodded. “I don’t know all of what you and Miguel talked about…”

  My head was swimming. This was a lot to process.

  “You all have dragon tattoos,” I murmured, trying to think. The wine wasn’t helping any. Or maybe it was. Without it, I might be too freaked out to contemplate and accept any of this.

  But I knew what I had seen, and I had seen two dragons fighting. Plus, a dragon completely explained the killed humans. Granted, I didn’t know the motivation, but I could completely understand the animals fleeing. Dragons weren’t exactly the kind of animal neighbor a dog or cat or gerbil would want.

  “Yes,” Damon said. “That’s been established. We all have tattoos.”r />
  “Which one of you fought off the dragon that attacked me?” I blurted out. “Don’t lie and say that you three aren’t dragons. Are you dragons? Or would you be dragon shifters? Or what exactly are you?”

  “Breathe,” Damon said with a laugh.

  I scowled at him. “How about you just answer the question? I am breathing. If I weren’t, I’d be dead.”

  “I wouldn’t want that.”

  “Oh, no?” I asked. I still had my hand on his chest, but now, I stabbed him there. “Maybe you do want exactly that, considering I know about you and your friends. I know there are dragons. Doesn’t that make me a threat to you and your kind?”

  “Are you?” he asked calmly.

  “Of course not!” I shouted, but inwardly, I didn’t exactly know.

  I was an investigative reporter. I should be willing and ready to type up an article for tomorrow’s paper that explain attacks. Dragons.

  Because people would believe me.

  I hadn’t been able to reach my phone to snap a pic of the dragon. I’d been so scared that I had been completely wrapped up in fleeing for my life.

  “Miguel was worried about you,” Damon said. “He is not pleased that a human knows.”

  “Outside of him telling me about dragons, he and I got along just fine.” I narrowed my eyes at Damon. He might be hot, but I didn’t like how he was trying to knock Miguel down.

  “Did you? You two get along like a house on fire?” Damon smirked.

  Maybe it was immature of me—okay, it was immature of me—but I slapped Damon’s chest.

  “We got along better than we are,” I said hotly.

  “Why can’t we get along?” Damon asked. “You sure seem to like to touch my body.”

  Now I did yank my hand back as if burned.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, trying to ignore the rising heat in my face and my embarrassment.

  The wine. It had to be the wine. Because all I could keep thinking about was touching Damon’s chest again. Of Miguel’s finger so close to my lips. Of Francesco’s amazing eyes.

  “Francesco,” I mumbled. “He was the one to fight the other dragon. Did he bring me here? Where are we?”

  “You never can ask only one question at a time, can you?”

  “Can’t handle me, Damon?” I asked. I brushed my hair over my shoulder and stumbled. Too much wine.