by C. A. Storm
I tilted my head toward the two cocooned children, “And them?”
“They’re called puttos,” he said, his agile lips twisting into a sneer of disgust. “Little nasty buggers usually sent by the Enochs as a warning.”
“So, this suigetsu isn’t yours?” I inquired, lifting an eyebrow as I waved to indicate the mystical space we were still imprisoned within.
“Oh,” he shook his head. “Nope, ‘fraid not, dove.” He lifted his thumb to indicate over his shoulder, back outside, “There’s a group of nuns out there keeping it in place, but no fears. My darlings created a little escape for us.”
Pointing up, that huge smile once more twisted his features into a macabre caricature of a smirk, “Up there. I saw that little trick of yours, the snow thing, so you can find a way out up there. I suggest you grab your stuff and exit while I clean up our little putto problem.”
Growing more suspicious by the word, nevertheless, I nodded and slowly backed toward the dressing room, keeping my eyes on Kincaid while I grabbed my clothes. I grimaced as I realized I was still wearing the bustier, so fished out some cash from my wallet. Leaving it on the settee in the dressing room. I called out to Kincaid, who had remained absolutely still as he watched me in open amusement.
“Hey, could you make sure this gets paid for?”
Dragging his eyes down my half-clad torso, his lips widened even more, if that were even possible. “Oh, aye, dove. I’ll be sure it’s covered,” he lifted a hand and thumbed the two rings piercing his lower lip. “Now you run along back to your hotel, and we’ll be catching up again soon.”
Considering he had been shadowing me since I had left said hotel, I wasn’t surprised at all he knew where I was staying. Equally obvious, he was associated with the Leanaí somehow. At the moment, however, I was only concerned with getting out of this suigetsu and getting some intel of my own.
Shrugging into my jacket, I dipped my head, “Sayonara, Kincaid. Thank you for your assistance.”
Without waiting for him to say anything else, I dispersed as fully as I dared, releasing flesh and embracing the winds as I soared upward. Just as Kincaid had said, there was a nearly invisible crack within the suigetsu, the tiniest of flaws that I was able to slip through. Unwilling to risk returning to flesh now that I was free, I decided that instead of returning to my hotel, since I was riding the winds, I’d take a few hours reconnaissance and get a look at this Cœur de Lyon place in the Rockies before I contacted Miki and the girls back home.
I was going to need some back-up.
❆❅❆
Kincaid | Downtown, Denver, CO | December 6, 2017
Up close? The little snow girl was fucking gorgeous, particularly wearing a pair of tight jeans that hugged a cute little arse and that silk bustier and nothing else. Even with her skin that pale, translucent white of ice and her eyes blazing like the Northern Lights, that clearly marked her as something more than human.
Tiny and as delicate looking as a single snowflake, I could tell she was young, probably not even fully into her existence as a supernatural, but the sheer force of her aura was overwhelming.
Equally as overwhelming?
The fact that she was fucking mine!
The moment our eyes had met, I had known it. I could see the tenuous web around her, threads stretching out and binding Fates together, and damned if one of those threads didn’t lead straight from the center of her chest into the center of mine.
She hadn’t reacted, hadn’t said a word, just up and left, and while I would have loved to just sweep her up and spend a few lifetimes exploring every inch of her petite, luscious body, I couldn’t.
Not yet, anyway.
Later.
Definitely, later!
First, though, I pulled out the front of my t-shirt and looked down.
There, glowing faintly beneath my flesh, forcing my other oathmark tattoos to make way, was a rippling new symbol in silvery blue.
Yep, the snow girl, my little dove, was my anam cara.
Bloody hell, I was a mated man!
With a sigh, I let go of my shirt and looked around the room.
“Well, my darlings, let’s clean up and then go report in so we can go dove hunting later.”
Spreading my arms, I dropped my mortal pretense, and let my spiders out to play.
Chapter 13
Vilhelm | Shadow Lake, CO | December 6, 2017
It had been a productive morning. I was pleased.
Arnie had taken me to a place he called “Wally World,” where he said I would be able to find basic necessities. It was a large warehouse, and obviously it had been designed with dragons in mind, as it had extremely tall ceilings and more than enough items to satisfy even my hoarding tendencies. It was even large enough that I could have shifted into my full dragon form if I felt the need. This satisfied me.
After I spent a few hours purchasing clothes that would help me blend in with humans, electronic gadgets to satisfy my entertainment needs, and placed an order for food delivery to at least keep me through a few days, I left the store and made a mental note to purchase a few warehouses globally, just so I could have convenient safe houses.
With his truck loaded down and groaning under the weight of my purchases, Arnie looked at me with that big, open grin on his face. “Heya boss, why don’t I drop ya off at the spa so you can get properly pampered and I’ll drop this stuff back off at your place.”
Weighing his words, I nodded. “Yes, that would be expedient.” Reaching out, I clasped Arnie’s broad shoulder. “You would make an excellent squire.”
Yes, I would make Arnie my squire. He would attend to my needs and help me navigate this modern country, America.
He would be honored, of course, to serve me, once he understood the magnitude of what I offered him, that is.
When he laughed, a hint of warmth creeping up his thick neck and covering his pale cheeks, I quirked a brow. “You find that amusing?”
Maybe I wouldn’t make him my squire. Bear meat was quite tasty, after all.
“A squire?” Arnie tilted his hat back and met my eyes with a wide grin, “Are you a knight? I always wanted to be a real knight, but I only pretend to be one on the weekends, when I’m at the Faire. Ain’t I bit old to be a squire?” His brow furrowed, “And don’t only the Fae still do all that knightly stuff?”
Ah, that was it. He simply did not understand. I kept forgetting how young he was, and how uneducated about dragons these modern monstrum were. I would have to discuss it with him further, later, then he would understand the great honor and come to serve me.
“We will talk about squires later,” I said, letting my hand fall from his shoulder as I turned to get into his truck. “For now, I must be properly groomed, so I can find my mate and not terrify her with my appearance.”
Because she was not a dragon, and if I had learned anything, non-dragons were terribly easy to frighten.
With a shrug, Arnie dropped me off at the spa, where I spent the next few hours being properly pampered. My unruly mane of human hair was cut and trimmed, I let them shave off my beard, revealing a jawline I hadn’t seen in centuries. They gave me both a manicure and a pedicure, as if trimming my human body’s nails would make me any less dangerous, but I did enjoy the massage and sauna.
Finally, by the time Arnie had returned to pick me up, I felt like a proper dragon once again.
Relaxed for perhaps the first time since I had awoken, I reclined in the truck as we drove back to my lodgings. The window was down, the cool, crisp air refreshing as it streamed over my face. I filled my lungs and froze.
Her. It was her!
Without a second thought, I opened the truck door as it sped down the road, and jumped out. Landing in a crouch, I threw my head back and inhaled again, trying to pick up her scent. Distantly, I registered Arnie’s surprised shout out as he slammed on the breaks of his vehicle. The screeching of the tires was an unholy sound that made me growl, particularly as the air filled with an acrid scent from
the smoking vehicle that nearly overwhelmed the distinct scent of my mate.
Closing my eyes, shutting out the minor annoyances that always surrounded me, I inhaled deeply, opening my mouth to draw the scents over my tongue, where it was easier to filter out the foul smell of burnt rubber. I heard Arnie pound up to me, speaking to me, but I ignored whatever it was he was blathering on about; I had something more important to focus on.
There!
Snapping open my eyes, I released the iron control I kept on my true self. My skin shivered as scales erupted from weak, fragile flesh as I tore the t-shirt from my chest so my wings could emerge, snapping forth large enough to support my humanoid form. Without a word, I leapt up, propelling myself up over the dense pine trees that obscured my vision while I simultaneously wrapped myself in a simple illusion, rendering myself completely invisible; even now, Audrick’s warnings to be polite and not terrify the humans rang in my mind. Dealing with Audrick would take precious time better spent breeding with my mate, which was intolerable.
I think Arnie was still shouting at me, but as it was most likely adulation for my handsome semi-draconic form. I would let him clean my scales later. He would enjoy that. But first, I had a mate to track, and her scent was on the wind!
She was close. Very close.
Time to fly! Time to hunt! Time to mate!
❆❅❆
Yuki | Along I-70, Rocky Mountains, CO | December 6, 2017
Okay, moving swift as the wind wasn’t as fast as you might imagine. When disbursed, in my phantom flesh and embracing the wind, I could travel swiftly over short distances, but when traveling long distances, I was at the mercy of the prevailing winds. Thankfully, the winds today were blowing where I wished to travel, but even as the yuki-onna flies, it still gave me an hour to just reflect over what was going on. An hour to worry, to fret, and to plot.
When I was in this form, little more than wind and consciousness, everything was numbed. I had no physical sensation, just a sense of weightlessness, of being untouchable. Even my mind became clear, focused, freed of the distractions of flesh and bodily urges or pains. The bruises and scratches from the children no longer bothered me, the transformation restoring my energy and healing my wounds as I absorbed moisture from the otherwise dry air.
It would have probably been easier to fly to Cœur de Lyon Estates directly over the Rockies, but with updrafts and the weather, it would be unpredictable, so I flew along the highway instead, letting the valley’s natural wind-tunneling push me along at a brisk speed, boosted by drifting behind vehicles and letting them pull me along.
I really wish I had Tan-kun with me. I made a mental note to see about having Miki get me a motorcycle arranged for me to use while I was here; maybe even buy one and charge it to my sperm donor’s account. Since every cent of his I spent was one less in my stepmother’s pocket, the thought filled me with glee.
Yes, definitely a motorcycle! Tan-kun needed an American little brother. Maybe I’d even start my own motorcycle harem!
I soared past a massive muscle truck, using its momentum to slingshot me forward, and felt a strange tugging sensation that yanked me out of my daydreams of having a harem of lovely motorcycles. Swirling around, I was shocked to see the truck come to a screeching halt as an absolutely massive man leapt from the passenger side like some kind of psychotic superhero.
He even did that ridiculous superhero pose. You know, the one with fist planted on the ground, one knee planted while the other leg is braced, as they throw their head back? Yep, he did it and seemed completely unironic about it.
Then he seemed to swell, tearing his shirt from his chest as he rose to his feet, and if I had been flesh and blood, I may have passed out or had a heart attack. Never, ever have I seen so much sheer, ruthlessly masculinity so blatantly presented.
He was massive. Easily two feet taller than my human height, he was probably as broad as three of me standing shoulder-to-shoulder, and every muscle in his exposed torso was carved in exquisite detail.
Just as I was about to approach, to try and get a better look at his face, drawn toward him as if by a magnet, another almost as equally massive male jumped from the driver’s seat of the truck.
“Mister Vindorm? Vilhelm? What is it, sir? What’s going on?”
The new guy was young, probably around my age, with bright, coppery hair that shone like fire in the daylight, much at odds with the silvery-blond of the guy he was approaching carefully, like one would approach a feral beast. Both men fairly radiated with sheer vitality, palpable energy that I associated with shifters, although the paler man’s was much more powerful, nearly magnetic, seeking to drag me in.
I couldn’t get a good look at his face, but before I made up my mind to approach to get a closer look, he began to transform.
Susanō’s Left Testicle!
DRAGON!
A living, breathing dragon!
I’d heard they existed, I mean, of course I knew they existed, but most of them had disappeared long before I was born. The Chinese dragons kept to their mountains, and hadn’t been seen in generations, and our own dragons supposedly retreated to their undersea kingdom and hadn’t been seen in the last century. The European dragons, however, hadn’t been seen in our lands since the days of Mongol Horde’s failed attempts to invade Japan, over eight hundred years ago.
I’d heard many stories from my family, my Clan loves story time when they’ve been drinking—go figure—but none of them had ever seen a Western dragon in the flesh. I finally beat those bitches to being first to do something! HA! Take that!
I swirled a wide circle around the two men, trying to get a clear view of the dragon man in all of his considerable glory, without getting too close. Dragons were some of the most magically powerful creatures to have ever walked this world or any other. They even existed separately from the Yōkai, on par with gods.
And like gods, dragons were known for their wrathfulness. Temperamental beasts, the lot of them!
But he was breathtaking, even in only a partial transformation.
His torso was armored with fine scales, translucent and clear like the finest of diamonds with the faint sheen of sapphire iridescence, thick and large along his chest and upper back, before becoming finer and brighter as they arrowed downward toward his abdomen. His thick white-blond hair had lightened to a silvery-white, and his face had sharpened, elongating, making room for the gleaming ivory fangs that he revealed as he opened that maw and inhaled deeply.
Large eyes snapped open, revealing opaline eyes more like those of a raptor than a reptile, glinting with iridescent flecks shimmering in orbs otherwise colorless except for the deep black irises.
A massive pair of bat-like wings exploded from his broad back, snapping outward with enough force to send my wind-shrouded body rocking back from the force of the gust. Thick thigh muscles strained against his jeans as he crouched, then surged upward into the air with a single flap of those wings, the backdraft once more tossing me about and giving me a brief bout of vertigo.
Then he was gone. Disappeared as if he had never been there, leaving behind his auburn-haired companion who shouted, “Vilhelm! Where are you going, sir?”
When he didn’t receive an answer, he ran a big, frustrated hand through his short hair as he stomped back to his truck, muttering, “Damned dragons. I mean, that was awesome, but now what? I hope he’s got his phone on him. Shit, I’d better head back to his place, just to be on the safe side.”
Show over, I mentally shrugged and soared back along the highway, heading off toward my destination once again.
It took a few minutes for me to realize that I had once more picked up a stalker. Although I couldn’t see him, I could sense him. I could feel him in the disturbance he made in the air flows.
The dragon was following me, keeping pace easily.
Okay, so we had been going the same direction, so it could be a coincidence, but I no more believe in coincidences than I believe that bastard, Santa Claus,
was real.
Testing the theory, I left the highway, soaring through the trees and up over the rocky terrain, staying close to the ground but maintaining direction toward the Estates.
As I left the highway, hurdling toward the Estates in a straight shot, I ignored the twinge in my otherwise intangible heart at being alone again. I comforted myself though, because I had witnessed, and survived, a real dragon in the flesh, and it had been incredible—something I doubt I’d ever forget.
Soaring swiftly along the ground, I felt the tinge of magical energies as I swept over and through a dense forest saturated in primal, wild magic. Hearing the distant howls of wolves only reinforced the certainty I had entered the territory of a werewolf pack. Unfamiliar symbols had been clawed into the trees, and as I raced through the branches, I heard someone shouting, “Dammit, I’m telling you, someone’s breached the perimeter!”
Looking down, I floated over a small clearing, where a small, athletic, dark-haired woman was proudly naked, her firm, pert breasts puckered in the cold, and carrying a sword nearly as large as she was. Her hair streaming behind her, she stalked through the trees with a predator’s grace, and her glowing blue eyes were wary as they scanned the branches.
A burly, blond-haired man came up behind her, completely naked and apparently unaffected by the chill in the air, as he likewise scanned the clearing. Given the general dishevelment of both of them, such as the twigs in their hair, and the leaves still clinging to sweat-covered flesh, they had apparently been helping one another “stay warm.”
Tilting his head back, he sniffed, his brow furrowing as he replied, “I smell something strange, but I can’t sense any danger, Cerise. We’re near the Sanctuary, a lot of things pass through the wards without even realizing they’re in Ulfhednar pack territory.”
Wrapping his huge arms around the much smaller woman, he nestled her against his chest as he nuzzled at her ear. His growl was low, meant for her ears alone, but I easily heard it from where I lurked, “Now come on, we should go take a shower before your cousins get home.”
