Bound By Heat - Dragon Shifter

by M. K Eidem et all

  Brecon leaned closer to the monitor and lowered his voice. “They’re still coming, aren’t they? In wave after wave, they still threaten to invade our planet. This means, you and those dragons you turn into are not winning, only holding your own.”

  The man was crazy, completely out of his mind and unaware of exactly what was happening in the skies if he believed such shit. Dragons were created to fight just as they were doing!

  “So you think the military can handle the Berstats better than we have been? And have a plan to succeed in eradicating the swarms once and for all?” Hu’ang’s tone bordered on incredulity, carefully edged by the same disrespect Ti’eron held inside.

  “In a word, yes.” Brecon sat back, his smile growing bigger as his eyes narrowed. “You’ve had your moment of glory. It’s time to let real men see to the task your dragons can’t or won’t complete.”

  “How do you hope to do this?” M’dobe got to the heart of matter and his question calmed both Ver’gren, who had been avidly listening, as well as Ti’eron.

  The scowl replacing Brecon’s smile was telling. “While I haven’t received full approval yet, we’ll initially engage in sorties with the creatures but once approved, I’ll give the order for the launch of nuclear warheads that will blast those bug-like shits to hell and beyond in one fell swoop—“

  Obviously, Ti’eron wasn’t the only commander allowing Ver’gren to send the General’s words to his squad. Because it wasn’t just the Warrior Dragon commanders’ beasts that roared a second time but the thousand scattered on the surface and around Earth’s skies.

  To use nuclear weapons, showering the heavens with radioactivity that had no place to go but back to the planet’s surface was unfathomable! Millions would die, maybe not initially, but definitely in the months and years to follow.

  “And the subsequent loss of life, General?” Ti’eron couldn’t let the bureaucrat off the hook for his so-called solution. “What are the Global Militia’s plans for dealing with the radioactive fallout of such a plan?”

  The ass-hat sneered and shrugged. “Collateral damage. What war doesn’t have it?” Yanking his jacket back into place, he glanced down and then back at the screen. “If there are no other questions, I believe you are all dismissed.”

  M’dobe held up a finger as the image of the General winked out and then simply said the word, “four”. Ti’eron knew that meant they were to meet again on their normal, different feed in four minutes.

  Just enough time to calm himself and his beast before the Warrior Dragons came up with a plan of what to do.

  *.*.*.*.*

  When I came back to myself, it was with Vanessa leaning over my prone figure, her long, blonde hair tickling my chin as she patted my face.

  Hard.

  Too hard in my opinion.

  “Are you okay?” Her eyes searched mine. “What happened? How many fingers am I holding up?”

  I took a deep breath and did a slow, mental scan of my body before answering. Outside of a burning in the cheek she’d slapped, I was good. “Yes. I don’t know. And you gotta bring your hand up to my eyes before I can see them.”

  “Oh. Yeah. Of course.” She offered an apologetic grin before she shifted away, giving me the room to sit up. “Shit, though. Are you really okay?”

  “I think so.” I thought back to what brought on the dizzy spell, the slowly graying-to-black thingy. “I heard Ti’eron’s dragon talking to me and then an almighty, thundering roar that kind of sizzled along my insides.”

  “I caught a touch of that too, although without the thunder and definitely sans sizzle. What do you think it means?”

  Shaking my head, I grabbed onto a barstool as I made it to my feet. “I don’t know. But I don’t think all is hunky dory in dragon land.”

  Her worried eyes met mine. “That’s exactly what I was thinking. Only, you know, of the Russian variety.”

  That she and I were of the same mind was almost more upsetting than what I was feeling along the connection I had with Ti’eron’s dragon which I somehow knew was being bridged without Eron’s permission.

  *.*.*.*.*

  “So let’s put it to a fucking vote then and get this shit over with already,” Re’nal growled. They’d been at it for a half-hour, arguing the pros and cons of complying with shit-for-brains Brecon’s instructions or for going against the injunction.

  M’dobe’s doleful look and head shake more than signaled his disapproval of Re’nal’s proposal. But it was Hu’ang who actually gave it a voice. “To recap, the Blues are completely against the injunction and wish to fly anyway, regardless of the threat of court-martial or death. The Greens and Blacks are willing to wait a period of no more than forty-eight hours, allowing the Militia’s jets and fighters to engage the Berstats and the Bronzes want to…what is it you and your squad want to do again, Ti’eron?”

  “Find a way into where he’s hiding and flame Brecon’s ass.”

  “Oh yes. My mistake because I thought you meant it as a joke, a bit of levity to break up the seriousness of our circumstances.”

  A muscle in Ti’eron’s jaw flexed. “I wasn’t fucking kidding.”

  “I’d back that play,” Re’nal bellowed, sounding a helluva lot closer than the distance allowed him to be. “That fucking dick needs to have his head examined.”

  “Agreed.” M’dobe even nodded to give his one word response more emphasis.

  We need to allow the over-confident human to see he and all those under his command will not succeed. The dragons can ensure no nuclear warheads will ever be launched and can even resolve any issues that occur on the ground in the aftermath of his militia’s attempts. The Berstats will never succeed in taking over Earth’s resources. Be at peace, my warrior.

  Forty-eight hours was not a lot but Ti’eron knew the General could not gain approval from all the heads of state around the world in such a short amount of time in order to enact a nuclear launch. Especially not for such an extreme measure that held such horrific results over the long haul. Politicians liked to debate an issue to death before coming to resolution, which made him wonder how Brecon was able to get a global injunction to ground the dragons so quickly.

  Had the man been bluffing?

  “On second thought, the Bronzes agree to the forty-eight hour compliance,” Ti’eron stated firmly before directing himself to the warrior who’d become a good friend in the time they’d spent together in Montana’s mountains and especially at Toxic. “Dude, it’s the only way to prove the fat-bastard wrong.”

  Re’nal chewed on his lower lip in the quiet that had fallen over the conclave of commanders.

  Everyone needed to agree.

  The Warrior Dragon nation needed every leader’s concurrence or chaos would reign.

  “The Blues agree.”

  Hu’ang, M’dobe and even Ti’eron let out an audible sigh of relief.

  “But I’ll be watching the motherfucking clock, every goddamned second, okay?”

  Ti’eron knew he’d be doing the same.

  Chapter Twelve

  The bar was eerily quiet despite being packed wall-to-wall with customers. Only the drone of the announcer’s voice, that insipid TV personality’s mouth sounded serious, stupidly saying stuff that couldn’t possibly be true.

  “To recap,” he intoned. “The Warrior Dragons are refusing to fly until they receive adequate compensation for their efforts in defeating the Berstats who still threaten our planet. The Global Militia has promised to pick up where the dragons left off to ensure the safety of all the people of Earth until which time a monetary settlement can be reached.”

  The overly-handsome announcer performed what I thought was a practiced look of disapproval—not too over the top, just a slight narrowing of his eyes and a firming of his mouth. “I don’t believe I’m alone in thinking this move by the very men we’ve given our trust is appalling. Money should never be a motivator in times of war and for them to use this tactic at this juncture speaks of a greediness
that goes beyond the scope of reason.”

  “See Joe?” The brassy-blonde, working her fourth rum and coke, had been running her mouth from the moment she’d sat her fat ass down. “I told you they were nothing but dirty animals that’d turn on us the first chance they got!”

  The beer-gutted man sitting next to her brought his seventh shot of whiskey to his mouth before slapping the glass to the bar top. “Shut it, Bess. Now’s not the time or the place for you to spew your shit.”

  I wholeheartedly agreed but in looking over the faces around the room, I thought I was in the minority. Vanessa gave me a worried look. We still had three hours until close but with the angry murmurs swelling around us, closing Toxic early might prove to be the better part of valor.

  It was unfortunate that Ti’eron, Lor’gen and two other Bronze warriors chose that moment to arrive via the roof entrance. In that instant, the one when our eyes connected across the ever-growing sea of strident voices, I forgot I was angry with him. Totally overlooked his behavior the last time I’d seen him as well as his two-week absence and silence in my life. All I wanted was for him and his warriors to leave, to get away before things got ugly.

  “You’ve got a lot of damn nerve showing your faces here!”

  “Money-grubbing assholes…”

  “Here’s a fucking fiver, consider that as payment rendered, cowards.”

  Ti’eron looked at the people, confusion knitting his brows. I read his lips since I couldn’t hear him over the catcalls, the angry voices of the milling crowd. “What’s going on?”

  When his gaze came back to me, I shook my head in warning before I turned to Vanessa.

  “We need to shut this shit down and fast!”

  She immediately reached for the rope of the bell, yanking on the cord so hard its strident peals overrode the sounds of everyone in the bar. But she didn’t stop there, choosing instead to climb up onto the prep area and balance on her knees while yelling, “Hey! That’s enough!”

  When that didn’t work, she emitted a shrill whistle, loud and sharp enough to get everyone’s attention. The ensuing silence was deafening. “That’s better. Now here’s how we’re gonna play this. We just heard from that reporter guy but did we see any rebuttal or explanation from our WarDrags? No? Then I say we get the skinny from the horse’s mouth, okay?”

  “Or the horse’s ass…”

  “Hey, if it’s on TV it has to be true! They don’t report shit that ain’t the goddamn truth!”

  My bestie held up a well-manicured hand to quiet the ones who felt the need to add their opinions. “I have the right to refuse service and I’m not afraid to use it. So if you want to continue to enjoy this bar, I’d caution you to shut the fuck up and allow our warriors to state their position.”

  Ti’eron and his men began to walk through the crowd, one which seemed to part of its own accord and allow the warriors to make their way to the long bar. As soon as he rounded the corner and came to stand beside me, Ti’eron’s eyes searched mine as if looking for an explanation for what was going on.

  “We just heard you guys won’t fly until you get more money.”

  Ti’eron’s look of confusion was immediately replaced by red-faced fury and he threw his head back, chin to ceiling. A move copied by his men and four mighty roars escaped mouths edged in white-hot flames. Both the ear-thrumming sound and sight stunned everyone and I involuntarily took a step back as I held a hand over my heart to prevent it from beating out of my chest.

  “That’s bullshit!” Ti’eron bellowed his eyes spinning furiously as he brought his face back to the crowd. “That is nothing but a bald-face lie made to discredit all dragonkind!”

  He looked to his men who held the same postures of restrained wrath as his own before he glanced around at the shocked faces of the now utterly still and quiet mob. “Does anybody know how to post a video to that YouTube site?”

  “Hell yeah…” one timid voice replied before I saw a wall of cell phones appear, all trained Ti’eron’s direction.

  He glanced at me before aiming his chin to the lights of the fifty or so mobile phones illuminating his handsome visage.

  “My name is Ti’eron Stalwar and I am the commander of the Bronze squad in the legion of Warrior Dragons who have pledged their lives to protect our planet.” God, his deep voice was so authoritative, so deliciously dominant, it made my knees weak.

  “It has come to my attention the Global Militia is claiming we are withholding our dragons from fighting the horde that fill Earth’s skies until we receive more money. This is not only completely untrue but an offensive insult to all of the dragons!” The other warriors, standing shoulder-to-shoulder next to Ti’eron, gave off growling chuffs with tendrils of smoke as if they were holding back the flames of their earlier fury. “We do not now nor have we ever received any moneys from the world’s military. Our funding is from private benefactors who believe in our mission and have confidence the brethren of Dragon Warriors can succeed in overcoming the menace the Berstats mean to inflict on Earth.”

  I’d never considered the monetary aspect of a dragon-pair’s life. Obviously they had to eat, be supplied with clothing and other supplies for daily life and since none of them had a job outside of fighting the Berstats, they must’ve been getting some kind of support from somewhere. I’d just never given it a thought.

  “In fact, we were summarily told to remain on the ground and to allow the militia to patrol and eradicate the Berstats as they saw fit. Which also includes the idea of sending rockets into the atmosphere armed with nuclear warheads in order to, and I quote, blast those bug-like shits to hell and beyond, end quote.” He swallowed, and my eyes followed the movement of his throat. “We were further instructed that any attempts to countermand these orders, to pursue the work we were created to do, would be considered an act of aggression and absolutely bring the full might of the global military to not only contain us, but to kill us if we interfered.”

  Sharp gasps echoed in the air at the picture Ti’eron painted.

  “Who the fuck would order such a thing?”

  “Goddamn bureaucrats…”

  “Who the hell leads that group of ass-hats?”

  It was Lor’gen that answered instead of Ti’eron, who was at that instant reaching for a bottle of water. “General Stephen D. Brecon is the head of the Global Militia’s Joint Chiefs of Staff and number one shithead appointed to work with the Warrior Dragons.”

  “So you were ordered not to fly?”

  “Yep.”

  “And if you did you’d be—“

  “Court-martialed or killed.”

  There were a couple of beats of silence in the room before a small, feminine voice dared to speak. “So how’d y’all get here then, to Toxic?”

  “We flew,” one of Ti’eron’s warriors, I hadn’t yet learned his name, replied on a drawl. “While scanning every bit of air on every pulse of our dragon’s wing, we decided to chance it.”

  “Why?” I didn’t realize it had been me who’d spoken until I heard my own voice echo in the space behind the bar.

  Looping an arm around my waist and pulling me into his side, Ti’eron tilted his head down until his amazing face and the swirling blue of his eyes were all that filled my vision. “Because I had to see my woman.”

  Just before his lips met mine, I heard a multitude of girlish sighs as well as a couple of ‘damns’ coming from many, many mouths.

  But I couldn’t be bothered to respond.

  Not since everything within me had dedicated itself to participate and enjoy his long overdue kiss.

  *.*.*.*.*

  As their kiss had evolved, much like it always did, Ti’eron turned until his broad back was facing the crowd, giving them a modicum of privacy. When he finally lifted his head, reason returned and he recognized the folly of both his words and actions from just moments before.

  “I probably shouldn’t have done that,” he murmured against her mouth.

  “What, kiss me?”


  “That and the whole YouTube announcement.” Christ! He was going to have to immediately return to the compound and get in touch with his other commanders, detailing what he had done. He wasn’t upset that he’d spoken the truth, only that he’d done it without the agreement of M’dobe, Hu’ang and Re’nal.

  With a touch of cabin fever riding his heels, he’d come to Toxic to escape his thoughts and, if he was truthful, to see Adri again. There was just something about her that pulled at him, and he’d resisted the call of her time and time again over the last two weeks until he’d finally given in and had taken to the sky.

  “Adri? I need some help here,” Vanessa called from the other end of the bar.

  The black haired beauty lifted her green eyes to his as she pushed against his chest. “I gotta get back to work. Can you stick around a while, until after closing?”

  A warm palm gripped his forearm and he saw Vanessa had moved, was now standing close. “Re’nal wants to talk to you. Says all the commanders are waiting for you to get back so they can help with damage control.”

  “How do you know that?” In shock, he searched the face of the blonde Re’nal used to dally with before he’d moved the Blue squad halfway around the globe. When she didn’t answer, he turned back to Adri. “How can she possibly know that?”

  “Go,” Adri said without answering his question. “Be safe.”

  He dipped in for another thorough though much more brief kiss. “I will, but I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  She gave him a warm smile, one that lit up his heart and had Ver’gren purring in delight. “Good. Because we’ve got some stuff to sort out.”

  Pulling away, he nodded to his warriors and they stepped through the crowd, much the way they’d come in, albeit with a completely different vibe filling the air. Instead of insults, they received pats on the back as they passed words of encouragement and warm grins rather than sneers.