Master of Dragons

by Angela Knight

  “Oh, you’re a man, no matter what form you’re in.” She eyed one of the circling dragons that looked as though it was working up the courage to fly closer. “Your head could be hanging half off and you’d say, ‘It’s nothing. I don’t need to go to the doctor.’ Or the Maja, or shaman, or fairy king, or whatever the hell the local equivalent is. Arrogant, bullheaded…”

  “I’m bullheaded? Who insisted we come here, even when Arthur and I told you—”

  “That was different.” She wondered if she could hit that red dragon with her spear at this distance, then reluctantly decided against it. “You can’t argue with a vision.”

  A deep male voice rumbled from behind them, startling her so badly she almost dropped the spear. “Kel, what in the name of the Egg are you doing here?”

  Kel looked around calmly as Nineva tried to get her weapon pointed in the right direction. “Looking for you. Nineva, banish the toothpick. This is Soren, the dragon we came to see. He’s the ambassador to Avalon.”

  Oh, sweet Semira, Nineva thought, getting a good look at the great beast who followed them, not another blue dragon.

  He was a huge creature, even bigger than Kel, though his scales were paler than Kel’s deep cobalt, with just a tinge of purple. Black horns jutted from his head, matching the spines that marched down his long body all the way to his tail.

  “Perhaps we’d better adjourn to my cave, then,” Soren said in a voice so deep, she could feel it in her breastbone. “Somehow I have the feeling this is not a conversation we want overheard.”

  He flew past, and Kel followed, his wings beating in long, unhurried strokes. Nineva hunkered down against his neck and tried to ignore all the hostile eyes she could feel boring holes in her back.

  Two sets of multiple gashes ran the length of Kel’s belly where the scales were silvery pale, framing a vicious bite mark wider than Nineva’s shoulders. The wounds were deeper than the length of her fingers, and blood ran down his chest as he lay on his side. If he hadn’t rolled during the fight, deliberately taking Irial’s strike, she had no doubt she’d be dead.

  Nineva took a deep breath and laid both hands over the bite. The Goddess Mark burned fiercely on her breast as she sent her magic pouring into the injuries. Dragon physiology was different from what she was used to, so she had to concentrate even harder than usual to sense how his body should heal. Distantly, she felt the wounds begin to knit under her spread fingers as the bleeding slowed and stopped.

  “I’ll say one thing for her, she’s got power,” Soren said. “I don’t know many Majae who could have healed a set of wounds like that.”

  “She is the descendent of a goddess.” Kel sounded remarkably like a proud lover.

  “And Cachamwri told you to protect her?”

  “Insisted on it. And told me to help her find this sword of hers.”

  The blue dragon grunted as he sat back on his haunches, the tip of his tail flicking restlessly. “And Grim’s missing, too. That’s bad. Very bad. Arthur must be snorting fire by now.”

  Finished at last, Nineva stepped back. Her knees wobbled under her. Usually a healing made her feel exhilarated, but there’d been an awful lot of Kel to heal.

  “For Cachamwri’s sake, sit down before you fall on your face,” he growled. “I told you to let me take care of those. I’ve certainly healed worse.”

  “Yeah, well, I wanted to do it.” Nineva looked around to see he’d conjured an armchair in the middle of Soren’s cave. She collapsed into it. “Healing’s what I do.” Lately it seemed the only thing she had any success at. Goddess knew she’d been a bust at finding the sword.

  “Tell me about this vision you had.” Soren settled onto his belly as Kel sat up to wrap his tail around himself like a cat.

  Nineva rubbed her aching forehead. The dragon’s cave was lit with a green light that reminded her of the view through night-vision goggles on CNN. The sourceless emerald glow illuminated craggy walls and the ceiling that soared two hundred feet overhead. Here and there stood thick columns, marked with deep grooves that looked suspiciously like claw marks. Apparently Soren climbed them to reach the second level, which ran around the sides of the cave like a balcony.

  “Nineva?” Kel prompted gently, reclaiming her wandering attention.

  She cleared her throat and related what she’d seen—the Sidhe and Magekind, riding dragons into battle against the rebels and their Dark One allies.

  “Cachamwri’s Egg.” It was a soft groan. Soren covered his muzzle with a clawed hand, his eyes closed in pain. “They’ll never do it, Kel. Let humans ride them? They’d rather be tortured by Dark Ones.”

  “Getting tortured by Dark Ones is exactly what it’s going to come to if those bastards invade.” The tip of Kel’s tail flicked restlessly.

  “Perhaps, but the Dragon Lords will never believe it. I’ve served on that council for centuries now, and I’ve never been able to get them to even consider things a lot less humiliating than that.”

  Nineva frowned, remembering how they’d mocked Kel for letting her ride him. The idea of dragon-mounted warriors hadn’t seemed so far-fetched—until the past couple of hours had taught her otherwise. “But Semira sent me that vision. It’s going to happen.”

  Soren lowered his head until he was eye to eye with her. She managed not to shrink back in her chair, though his head was taller than her entire body. “Semira is not our goddess, Nineva. And even if she was, they’d never believe a half-breed Sidhe.”

  “Soren,” Kel growled, his voice rumbling with warning.

  “You know that’s how they’ll see her. At least we have some history with the Sidhe—Cachamwri proclaimed them our allies. But you can smell the human blood in this one. And that, to our people, will make her safe to hate.”

  Nineva rose restlessly from her chair and began to pace in front of the two towering dragons. “I don’t doubt you’re right—and frankly, the thought of confronting a bunch of bigoted dragons makes my stomach hurt. But the rebels have Grim and the sword, and they’re working on breaking the planetary wards. We can’t afford to sit by and let that happen without doing something to stop it.”

  “I’m not sure if she’s got courage or a suicidal streak,” Soren said to Kel.

  “Oh, it’s about seventy percent courage.” His muzzle stretched into something that looked like the dragon version of a dry smile. “The rest is pure, unadulterated bullheadedness.”

  Before Nineva could formulate a suitable retort, the beat of huge wings drew her wary attention to the mouth of the cave.

  A white dragon rustled inside, eyes huge with excitement, tail lashing. “Soren, is it true? Is Kel here?”

  Soren laughed, a deep rumble. “Yes, Eithne, Kel is back.” To his guests, he added, “Eithne is my protégée. she’s fascinated by all things human, and hopes to be allowed to visit Avalon—once she can talk her clan into allowing it, anyway.”

  “They are so…blind.” Nineva’s translation spell rendered the dragon’s voice as breathy, female, and a bit young. It reminded her of a college coed—and sounded really strange coming from a creature who had to be a good thirty feet long. “I’m not a fledgling anymore, but you’d think I just escaped my egg, the way they take on.”

  Nineva stepped warily aside as Eithne crossed the cave to Kel. Big as she was, she looked almost dainty next to his massive strength. There was a certain elegance of line to the shape of her head, and her neck was graceful and long, putting Nineva in mind of a swan. Instead of the males’ black horns, a pair of fan-shaped frills stood on either side of her head like an exotic hat. Her tail flicked eagerly as she stared up at Kel with what looked uncomfortably like hero worship. “Soren’s told me much of your adventures among the humans,” she said in that coed voice. “I saw you fight your uncle when you were last here, but you left before I could speak to you. I was very impressed.”

  Kel looked taken aback, as if he wasn’t sure how to deal with the sudden acquisition of a dragon groupie. “I’m…sorry I
missed you.”

  I’ll just bet you are. Nineva’s eyes widened as the implications of her waspish thought registered. Wait a minute—am I jealous of a thirty-foot lizard?

  Kel gestured at her. “This is Princess Nineva of the Morven Sidhe. She’s here to address the Dragon Lords.”

  Eithne’s head swung quickly, following his pointing claw. Her eyes widened as she spotted Nineva. “That’s a human? I didn’t get a good look at the ones who were with you before.” She rustled closer, dipping her great head until they were almost eye to eye. Pride wouldn’t let Nineva retreat, despite her clamoring instincts. “But it’s so…small! The way everyone talks, I assumed they’d be much bigger.”

  “Hello,” Nineva said stiffly. Her translation spell turned her words into what she hoped was the appropriate hiss.

  “It talks!” The she-dragon laughed with delight, almost blowing Nineva back on her heels.

  “Of course she talks,” Kel said, giving Nineva a nervous look. “Among other things.”

  “Many other things,” Nineva growled. The spell gave the sentence a gratifying rumble.

  Eithne drew her head up in surprise. “Oh. Well.” She blinked huge round eyes. “Perhaps you can tell me about life among your people.” She spoke slowly, raising her voice slightly, as one might to someone of dubious intelligence. “I hear your ways are very…different from ours.”

  Nineva bared her teeth. “That’s a safe bet.”

  Soren produced a sound the translator rendered as a strangled snort of laughter. He cleared his throat. “Well, Eithne, it might be best if you run along. I’m going to have to summon the Dragon Lords and attempt to arrange an audience for Kel and Nineva.”

  The white dragon swung her head toward him and gave him a limpid look. “I’d be happy to entertain your guests while you’re occupied, Soren.” Her tail flicked eagerly, then stole over to touch the tip of Kel’s. He looked around at it, startled. “I would much enjoy hearing Kel speak of his centuries in Avalon.”

  “I don’t think your clan mothers would approve of my leaving you alone with our guests just now, Eithne. Perhaps later.” Soren gave her shoulder a nudge with his nose. “Off with you, then. We’ll talk later.”

  “But Soren…”

  “Eithne.”

  “Oh, very well.” The white dragon moved toward the cave entrance. “But only because I don’t want my brothers to jump Kel.” She gave him a downright flirtatious look over one shoulder. “He’d probably hurt them.”

  With that, she launched herself out of the cave with a lithe spring, like a cat leaping onto a countertop.

  “Unfortunately, I doubt it would be quite that easy,” Soren told Kel. “She has a great many brothers.”

  “Red Rock Clan, right?”

  “That’s the one.”

  “They do produce beautiful females.”

  “And touchy, bloodthirsty males, a fact you should keep in mind.” Soren gave Nineva a look. “Besides, I have the distinct impression you’ve got your hands full as it is.” He headed for the entrance, forcing Nineva to step aside for his enormous tail. “I’ll go summon the Lords, though you probably shouldn’t expect me back too soon. It’s going to take me time to talk them into seeing you.”

  “Good luck, Soren,” Kel told him. “And thank you, whichever way it goes.”

  The blue dragon grunted and threw himself into the air.

  Nineva waited until she thought he’d flown out of earshot. “What’s the Draconian word for ‘jailbait’?”

  “Nineva, she’s eight hundred years old.” Magic flared around Kel, and he was human again, dressed in his familiar jeans and black T-shirt. A knot of tension deep inside her immediately loosened.

  “Which is what? The equivalent of sixteen in human years?”

  He sauntered over, giving her a wicked grin. “More like twenty-five. Are you jealous, Nineva?”

  “Why would I be jealous of a giant reptile?” She folded her arms and glowered. “I just don’t like being talked about as if I’m a somewhat dim toy poodle. ‘Oh, it’s so tiny! And it talks!’ Bite me, jailbait.”

  Kel laughed and pulled her into his arms. “That would hurt. A lot.”

  Nineva sniffed. “I could take her.”

  “I don’t doubt it.” His handsome mouth curled up into a smile. “You certainly took me.”

  Then he dipped his head and found her mouth with his.

  FOURTEEN

  Nineva’s lips felt like rose petals and tasted of mint. They opened against Kel’s, welcoming his questing tongue. She melted into him, her soft breasts pillowing against his chest, her arms tightening around his waist.

  It was a good thing she hadn’t known Eithne was coming into season. That was why the white dragon had been so sexually aggressive, and why her brothers wouldn’t have wanted her coming anywhere near Kel.

  Yet the truly amazing thing was that even with Eithne pumping dragon pheromones into the air, all he’d been able to think about was Nineva. He’d been preoccupied with the fear in her scent, the way she struggled to hide it and show a brave face to the huge, threatening creatures that surrounded her. When he’d sensed her growing jealousy, it had actually been a relief. At least jealousy was better than fear.

  Not to mention oddly gratifying.

  Yeah, he thought, still kissing her hungrily, I’ve got it bad. But she’s not immune to me either.

  Hunger infused her scent now, teasing his own growing arousal. “I’ve got to touch you.” She banished her armor to stand against him in jeans and a lacy camisole, as if not quite brave enough for nudity. He reached down and cupped her toned little backside in one hand. She responded by hooking one long leg over his hip and boosting herself up, climbing him like a tree. Something about the raw desire in the act sent lust stabbing through him. “Cachamwri’s Egg, Nineva,” he gasped against her mouth.

  “Can we do this?” she murmured back, wrapping her legs more tightly around his waist. “Do we have time?”

  “They’ll argue and bitch for the next hour at least.” Kel nuzzled beneath her chin, bit gently. “And in the meantime…” He reached for his magic and surrounded them with an invisibility spell.

  She responded with a moan, fisting both hands in his T-shirt, hauling it upward. They both groaned as she found bare skin with those small, soft hands. “We really shouldn’t be doing this, making love in your friend’s cave. It’s tacky.”

  “Tacky is a human concept.” He shuttered his eyes as she found his small male nipples with her clever fingers. He returned the favor, slipping one hand under the hem of her camisole.

  She hadn’t conjured a bra. Her round, soft breast filled his palm with warmth and sweet femininity. He lifted her higher and found its rosy tip with his mouth. Savored her groan as he savored her taste. Magic and sex.

  He danced his tongue over the hard peak, gave it a gentle, teasing nibble. Closed his mouth to suckle. She threw back her head, and the silk of her hair danced over his bare arm as he supported her bottom.

  “Am I too heavy?” she gasped.

  “You’ve got to be kidding.” His shape-shifted Draconian muscle barely felt her weight at all.

  Responsibility reared its head, made him frown. “Should you cast that spell again?”

  “If you think I’m going to stop and spend an hour drawing Sidhe power patterns on the floor, you’re out of your mind.” She ground against him and bit her lower lip. “Besides, I want this time to be for us. Just us.”

  “Just us,” he repeated, and banished their clothing. The sensation of his rock-hard erection pressing against her down-soft belly made heat flood his balls. “Nineva,” he whispered hoarsely.

  She ground against him again as her eyes met his, bright and laughing. “I gave serious thought to scratching that lizard’s eyes out.”

  He laughed. “You couldn’t reach them.”

  “I’m resourceful. I’d have found a way.” Nineva kissed him, slowly, thoroughly, tangling her hands in his long cobalt hair.
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  He held her like that, loving the satin warmth of her, loving the delicious, teasing anticipation of that tight, wet sex so close to his aching cock. Loving the mint and magic of her mouth.

  When they finally came up for air, they were both panting. She clung to him, looking up into his eyes. The opalescent swirl of her gaze was dizzying, as if he was staring into infinity. “What are we?” She brushed a lock of his hair back, as if to see his face better. “What are we to each other?”

  He went still. There was something in her face, something he hadn’t expected to see. Something beyond duty or desire or even friendship. His heart began to pound with something more than arousal. “What do you want to be?”

  “I think…” She stopped and swallowed. His eyes focused helplessly on her mouth. “I think I’m falling in love with you.”

  He stared at her, stunned to stillness.

  “Is that stupid? Tell me if it’s stupid.”

  “I thought you were afraid of me.”

  She smiled, a bare twitch of the lips. “Now, that was stupid.” Her grip on his neck tightened convulsively, as with sudden anxiety. “You haven’t answered.”

  “I’m in love with you.” He didn’t bother with a hedging I think. He knew. He’d known for days.

  “But you’re a dragon, and I’m…” She didn’t finish, but the complex emotion in her gaze made him wonder what she had in mind. Sidhe? Semira’s Avatar? Doomed?

  “I don’t care.” Fiercely. His hands tightened on her bottom, and he lifted her, poised her over his hard cock. “It’s what we are together that matters.”

  He rolled his hips up and brought her down, and hilted himself in one breathtaking plunge.

  Nineva threw back her head and screamed in a blend of shock and delight. It was almost too much, that sudden impalement, yet at the same time it was deliciously arousing in its very ruthlessness.

  Kel cupped both hands around her backside and lifted her to the perfect height, then started to grind in and out. Helpless, she clung to his brawny, sweating shoulders, glorying in their mutual need.