All because of his spur of the moment decision to counter Brecon’s lies with the truth, to let the public know what was really going down. To claim a dragon wouldn’t fly because he needed payment was the most fucked up, the most ridiculous excuse Ti’eron ever heard! He only hoped the other commanders saw it the same way.
An hour later and he had his co-leaders on the screen of his laptop. “Before you rip me a new one, I realize I should’ve talked to all of you first and gotten consensus before I shot off my big mouth.” Grovel first, explain later was always a good tack to take.
M’dobe coughed and Hu’ang raised a hand to cover his mouth. Re’nal though couldn’t, as ever, keep his thoughts to himself. “Fucking hell, bud. I can’t believe you did that. It was awesome, fucking amazing, dude! Up to and including the wet one you planted on Adri there at the end.”
“The matter needed to be addressed and although I wouldn’t have used those particular words, I think you did fine, young Ti’eron.” M’dobe’s praise, especially when Ti’eron expected a royal reaming, warmed from within.
“However, I expect the Global Militia and General Brecon are now scrambling to find another way to discredit us.” Hu’ang’s caution only dampened Ti’eron’s spirits a smidgeon. “We can provide definitive proof his press release is false but we need to be prepared for his next gambit which is bound to be stronger and less able to be refuted.”
“Are we still sticking to the forty-eight hour window?” Ti’eron glanced at the clock. Per the schedule Re’nal had painstakingly created, the next wave of Berstats was due to begin in only a couple of hours over the far edge of Australia.
M’dobe nodded. “I don’t see how we have a choice. Until the global community as well as the world’s military actually sees dragons are the only effective weapon against our enemy, we have no proof of the necessity of dragonkind in this fight.”
“Shit!” Re’nal’s excited voice cut in. “You’ve already got over five hundred thousand hits on your rant, dude! Excellent!”
Hu’ang and the others bent over their keyboards but Ti’eron couldn’t have cared less about the response to his one moment in the spotlight. He was considering the horrors the next forty-eight hours would carry. “It’s gonna be a blood-bath up there. All those men in nothing but metal planes armed with weapons that can’t do shit to stop those fucking bugs. They’ll be electrocuted in the very jets they think will save both them and Earth.”
“All because of a megalomaniac with control issues,” M’dobe replied in a distracted voice.
Hu’ang sat back in his chair, his forehead crinkled as if in deep thought. “Do you think they’d at least allow us to flame the Berstats on the ground? Because we all know General Brecon’s plan will fail and some, if not most of the aliens will make it to the surface.”
All jocularity was wiped from Re’nal’s face, replaced by a look of determination. “I don’t think we have any other choice. None of our dragons will sit things out, allowing those creatures to land and begin the decimation we know the Berstat’s crave. They hell’a fiendin’ for fresh water, wood and greenery to feed on before moving on to their next target. We’ve all seen the pictures our beasts have picked up from the horde’s mind.”
“I will send an immediate, formal request to the Joint Chiefs,” M’dobe stated firmly and each of the co-commanders nodded in agreement. “But even if it is not approved, does each of us agree to do as our dragons demand and defend the Earth as we were created to do?”
There were two swift and adamant agreements and one, “oh fuck to the yeah,” as every dragon roared both within and without their electronic connection.
Chapter Thirteen
I’d kind of hoped Ti’eron would’ve come back, but he didn’t. And he stayed away the next night too but I did get to see him.
Or at least I thought the Bronze dragon caught in the remote video feed of the international news channel was my Ti’eron in his dragon form. The one who the camera crew filmed as it flamingly destroyed hundreds of the huge black beetles hitting the ground and chewing their way across any piece of land, as long as it was green, had trees or contained fresh water.
Every news station around the world was in frenzy, interrupting any and all programming in order to stream live video of the Warrior Dragons in action.
Vanessa reached for the remote to turn up the sound of the TV. On screen was a young beautiful black woman, ridiculously dressed in a sky-blue business suit, pearls and heels, standing in a torn up field strewn with sizzling black parts, dripping with green slime and liquid fire. “While we’ve never actually had one of the aliens land before, it seems our WarDrags can overcome these bugs, the Berstats, even on the ground and kill them before they can do much damage. Although why the military continues to deny them access to the sky, so the dragons can do their job in the air, is anyone’s guess. This is Patricia Marley for KNXA news, reporting from just outside Fieldburg, Kansas. Back to you, Dave.”
The screen morphed into a well-coiffed, handsomely dressed man sitting behind a news desk. “There you have it, folks. The Global Militia’s avowal to stop the invasion has been an unmitigated failure, a black-mark on their ability to save both us and our planet from the horde who threaten us. Why did they ground our dragons? Was it because of pride or a real sense that the military forces could and would overcome the creatures? Unfortunately, General Brecon’s office is refusing any of our calls, citing their entire focus is on the hundreds of men in the air, giving their very lives to protecting our way of life and the terra and fauna of Earth.”
I wasn’t sorry when Vanessa muted the TV. She turned to me and muttered, “Fucking pieces of governmental shit. They’re all just trying to prove whose dick is bigger.”
There wasn’t any disagreement I was willing to raise because I was of a like mind. This was the worst sort of stupidity. If you had the means, and the dragons to fight, why would you insist on putting others in danger?
“Ooh, here he is. That general what-ever-the-fuck his name is.” Vanessa’s long lacquered nail pressed the remote again until the bar was again filled with the sound of the TV that showed an older man in full military dress, chest glittering with metals and ribbons, behind a podium. As the camera panned outward, it appeared he was at long last holding a formal press conference.
“I’m happy to report that our glorious troops are making inroads into the scourging horde threatening our skies. As of an hour ago, our intel shows we’ve eliminated thirty-five thousand of the Berstats with only a minimal loss of our own craft and brave men. Please rest assured we will continue to battle until the last of them are gone from our atmosphere.”
“General? Todd McCutcheon from the New York Times. What is the exact count of those considered, in your words, ‘a minimal loss’.”
“Until all the families have been informed, we are not yet at liberty to release those numbers.” I saw a line of sweat appear over the sanctimonious General’s upper lip. Oh-ho, so the man wasn’t as unaffected by the losses as he appeared. “Terry? Do you have a question?”
“Terrance Horton, NBC news. Yes, I do. Both we and all our affiliates are reporting the ground cleanup operations the Warrior Dragons are engaged in, killing the Berstats our own military have let through and who’ve landed on the surface. In the past, when the dragons were in the skies, no bugs ever made it planet-side. What is your reasoning in preventing the dragons from flying now?”
The general’s face took on a particularly ugly shade of red as a muscle twitched in his cheek. “That’s classified.”
“But sir, we’re all able to see this latest shift in strategy is failing.” Another voice called out from the reporter’s side of the area in the room where the press conference was being conducted.
Brecon shaded his eyes and looked out into the sea of press people, but I figured it was a play for time. The old warhorse was under the gun and he knew it. “Who are you?”
“James Jardin, USA Today.”
�
��Well, James,” the general’s voice all but sneered at the much younger reporter. “Was that a question or an accusation?”
“I guess my question is, sir,” James swallowed before continuing as if digging in his heels determined not be intimidated by Brecon’s attitude. “Why isn’t the Militia reversing its decision, recalling our jets and allowing the dragons to fly when they’ve already demonstrated success in that area?”
“Our jets? Can you show me a receipt where anyone of you has actually paid for any military aircraft?”
James stood straighter and, honest to god, stared straight at the older man who was hot-footing the accusations, the shame of his plans plain for all to see. “I have my tax returns denoting the portion deducted for the World Fund which I believe goes towards financing the Global Militia. Does that suffice, sir?”
“The decisions of the Joint Chiefs of Staff and the world’s military are not at question here. We have more experience in the realm of warfare than any one of you paper-pushers or pencil-jockeys can ever hope to achieve. Why don’t you allow us to do what we do best while you go off and do…whatever it is that you do?”
“Because if this is your best, General, you’re screwing up!” The camera sped back to the guy from the New York Times. “Put the dragons back in the air, stop feeding the war machine and let the people of Earth go to sleep in the security the Warrior Dragons can and will provide to our safety. Something neither you nor the rest of the global servicemen seem to be able to do with any measure of success!”
Applause broke out not only in the bar, but in the press area as well. And the General stormed from the podium, the back of his neck and slump of his shoulders attesting to the beating he’d received by the members of the media who controlled public opinion.
I turned back to the group of people pressing against the bar and caught the eye of a tall, red-headed woman. “Are you really sleeping with one of the WarDrags, you lucky thing?”
Oh shit. I hadn’t seen that one coming but after Ti’eron’s performance, captured in the glare of fifty or more cell phones the other night, how could I deny it?
*.*.*.*.*
She is not answering. Ver’gren’s voice sounded tired and as woeful as Ti’eron felt. It had been a long, frustrating day and he’d been holding the prize of seeing Adri as his carrot to complete it.
Try again, old friend. She’s probably just sleeping deep. At least he hoped she was and not ignoring him out of hand. Even he could admit he’d been a cold bastard the last time they’d actually hooked up. But she hadn’t held it against him when he’d shown up at Toxic and done the YouTube shit.
On second thought, let’s just go to her patio. Most folks on the second floor of places didn’t feel the need to lock their sliders figuring unless someone nefarious had spidey abilities, they were safe. Obviously they forgot about a dragon’s capabilities.
As Ver’gren balanced a claw on the wall of Adri’s patio, their forms shifted until Ti’eron did a one-footed push-off to land on the cement deck. Straightening his vest, he let himself into her apartment, allowing himself a moment to breathe in the sweet smell of the woman he couldn’t stay away from.
Using his dragon-enhanced eyesight, he stepped around the furniture, remembering well the location of her bedroom. But once at the doorway, he paused and took in the sight of her lithe form on her side under the heavy covers, her beautiful dark hair spilling across the pillows. Christ, she was gorgeous. Although not even half as beautiful asleep as she was awake. It was her personality he found more gratifying than just her looks alone.
Toeing off his boots with as little noise as possible, Ti’eron eased himself onto the bed, scooting until her bottom rested in the lap of his thighs.
She sighed as he wound an arm around her waist. “Adri?”
“Yeah, Eron?” came the sleep reply without hesitation. Did she know he was there or was she only dreaming of him? His hard cock, trapped in his leathers at an awkward angle, flexed at the thought of being a part of whatever she was seeing in her dreams.
“I’m here, baby.” She smelled amazing and he couldn’t help burrowing his nose in the waves at the back of her neck. “You gonna wake up or can I just cuddle next to you and sleep for a while too?”
“Sleep,” she said, capturing his hand and pulling it tighter around her waist. “Sleep with me, Eron.”
Since he was bone-weary, he more than knew he could fulfill her request.
That was until what felt like only a few seconds later when she was shaking him awake. “Oh my god! How’d you get in here?”
“Adri?” He tried for, but couldn’t come up with either the answer or any more spit with which to speak whatever his brain could supply.
“Sneaking into my place, without my knowledge or approval is damn low even for you, dragon man!”
He closed one eye and tried to find her clock. What time was it anyway?
“I mean, can’t you call first? You know, ringy-dingy? Hello? Honestly, Eron!”
He smacked his lips and tried to get more saliva. “I had Ver’gren try to reach you but when you didn’t answer, I just…”
“Just what? Made yourself at home?”
Wait a damn minute, he told himself or he could’ve been yelling his thoughts her way. Glancing down he saw he was still dressed and on top of the covers. So what had he done that had been so damn bad or made her yell about ‘making himself at home’, for Christ’s sake? Rolling onto his back, Ti’eron propped himself up onto an elbow and took in the view.
Adri was standing, her hair in wild disarray, legs locked with a hand propped on either side of her shapely, pajama-covered hips as she scowled at him. Fucking beauty. Or rather, fucking-beauty-with-a-mad-on.
He scrubbed his fingers through his hair and wondered how to answer in a way that might ease her from pissed-off to horny. “I wanted to see you and your patio door was unlatched. Then when I tried to wake you up, to tell you I was here, you told me to sleep. So I, you know…”
“Arghh,” she yelled, spinning on a heel and stomping to the door. “If you think you can just waltz into my apartment any ol’ time the urge hits you—“
His morning wood was quickly deflating, going from horny to pissed off, the exact opposite of the effect he’d hoped to achieve. “I don’t think that or I’d fucking be here every goddamn night!”
“Oh you would, would you?”
“Hand on heart, baby.”
She stared back at him, glaring into his eyes in a way he took as ‘get the eff outta my space, asshole’. Swinging his legs to the side of the mattress, he reached for his boots. “Sorry to disturb.”
When she didn’t retort, didn’t blast him with another well-timed zing, he glanced her way before going back to his boots.
A deep sigh sounded before she turned fully to him and propped one of the hips he’d hoped to grab and use as leverage as he screwed her silly, against the doorjamb. “I don’t like you showing up here, in my bed without prior notification.”
“I’ll be sure to send you an engraved invitation next time.”
“God, Eron.” She threw up a hand although he had no idea why she was so frustrated. He, on the other hand, was more than aware of what was causing his. “These out of the blue booty-calls aren’t my favorite brand of ‘hello, how’re you doing’, okay?”
Booty-call? Is that how she saw the times he’d made an effort to see her, to be with her?
“I’d had a hard day, baby.” It was an admission he didn’t want to give, but the occasion seemed to warrant it. “And as soon as it was finished, I wanted to see you. To be with you.”
His words seemed to take the wind out of her sails and she took a couple of steps forward, towards him. “Thank you.”
“For what? Pissing you off just because I just admitted I needed to see you after a fucked up day?”
“No, honey.” She dropped her bountiful ass to the mattress, her curvy leg lightly touching the side of his. “For admitting I mean something to you
.”
He couldn’t believe her words and shot a glance from underneath his eyelashes to see if she was for real. “You can’t tell?”
She had the grace to blush and turn her face away. “No, Eron, I can’t.”
Ti’eron took that in, confusion running rampant inside.
Our Annie is exposing her heart.
As if he couldn’t get a bead on that little bit of intel all by himself, his dragon chose that moment to chime in. Guess it wasn’t gonna be a ‘hooray for Eron day’. Maybe it was time to expose a little of what he had going on inside as well. In for a penny, in for a pound he’d always heard.
“Remember way back when? Back in the day and what I used to tell you?” His heart stuttered even though his voice remained even.
“About how we were meant for each other?”
He sighed. Christ, but they had been so young, so goddamn innocent and unknowing of what their futures held! “Yeah, Adri. That you were the only one for me.” He couldn’t help it, he just had to touch her, but as he raised his hand intent on snagging the back of her neck, he remembered how much she hated that move. Had labeled it his ‘snatch and grab’ technique. Instead, he lowered it until his palm covered the back of her hand resting on her pajama-clad knee.
She turned and glanced at him before her eyes drifted away. “That was a long time ago. Before your dragon emerged and we were forced to grow up separately.” She swallowed and her voice gentled, her words coming more slowly. “We’re both different people now.”
Ti’eron threaded his fingers between hers as he nodded. “Yeah we are, babe.”
True love never fades nor dies, it just hibernates until awakened.
Staring at the profile she presented, Ti’eron didn’t think she caught Ver’gren’s intrusion to their conversation. That was until his eyes followed the trajectory of the one lone tear she allowed to escape, mesmerized by it rolling down her cheek.
We’re not talking about love here, dragon! You know I can’t go there and, before you get your scales in a twist, I’ve already explained why that’s not possible.
Bound By Heat - Dragon Shifter Page 25
