Baron

by Mel Teshco

  Baron blew out a slow, steadying breath. With his hands tied and no way to press suggestions into the officer’s mind, for a moment he considered shifting into dragon. Except the minute it’d take to shift into his beast form and break his bonds, the officer would shoot him in the head, and probably shoot Piper too.

  It was beyond galling to sit and wait for the outcome, because the longer it played out, the greater the disadvantage. Without more food and rest he would rapidly weaken. And he’d already used up much of his energy planting suggestions.

  He rolled his head back and closed his eyes. There was no point wasting more energy trying to escape. This time he’d rest for real.

  He’d fallen asleep—one hour, two?—when the truck lurched to a stop. He blinked gritty eyes, his belly hard and his anger returning with a vengeance.

  If the bastards dared to lay even one finger on Piper...

  “Here at last,” the officer said. And though his tone was weary, his face was stamped with satisfaction. He pushed to his feet and stared down at them. “Out. Now.”

  “Go to hell,” Piper spat. But she climbed to her feet anyway, and curled a hand around Baron’s upper arm to help him up.

  Baron couldn’t help but appreciate the small Earth woman assisting him, even as he despaired at the knowledge she had to do so. He was a warrior, a man who’d slain countless Tantonics and defended his people ... until the moment their last stronghold had been overtaken.

  He shuddered at the memories that haunted him even now. The last of his friends, Riddich soldiers and comrades, had defended their king and princess, along with Baron and all those selected to escape from the endless army of Tantonics. He’d had no choice but to watch from the marshaling area on the top floor of the palace as those same friends had been butchered by the evil Tantonic race.

  He squeezed his eyes closed for a moment, dragging his thoughts away from the dark memories to focus on this present predicament. Staying alive for a full Earth year had just gotten a whole lot tougher.

  Bending low, he walked toward the opened end of the truck, where bright sunlight indicated the day was far from over. Piper climbed down first, but he wasn’t given a chance to follow. The officer shoved him hard from behind.

  Baron resisted inherent defense and allowed gravity take him. His face smacked the dusty road and he muffled a curse. Piper cried out and a soldier sniggered. Baron lay still for a moment longer, controlling his frayed emotions.

  He could so easily have counterbalanced, and then pivoted to kick the officer’s legs out from under him. Booting the man face-first onto the ground would have been the ultimate in satisfaction. Except he refused to give away his fighting ability, he’d already given away too much.

  A door clanged open in a stone cottage nearby that was surrounded by gum trees and not much else. Baron rolled over and sat, swiping away the warm sticky blood leaking from his nose even as he glowered at the uniformed, middle-aged man who strode toward them, tepid brown eyes flashing in his round, stern face.

  “That’s no way to treat a guest of mine. What is the meaning of this?”

  The officer jumped from the truck’s cargo bed. After giving a stiff salute, he held his head high and his shoulders back. “General, this alien seriously hurt our men—“

  “That’s the risk they take on each and every assignment,” the general interjected coolly, before he nodded at the nearest soldier. “Help this gentleman up and escort him and his lady friend inside.” He smiled congenially at Baron. “I’d cut you free but I’m not stupid enough to think you wouldn’t attack me and try to escape.”

  Baron held the other man’s stare. The general might come across as friendly and helpful, but he was rotten inside. Goddess knew he’d fought against enough Tantonics to recognize the insidious evil lurking within.

  Escorted to the cottage, Baron’s nostrils flared and his eyes sharpened. The whole building was made of stone, which was impervious to fire and heat. The soldier opened the door—steel?—and Baron glanced at the floor. Bloody hell, even the tiles appeared to be some kind of stone material.

  “Slate tiles,” the general said from behind them, before he dismissed the soldier and closed the door. “Quite handy in case a dragon entertains the idea of burning the place down.”

  “Then you might like to untie me. Rocks mightn’t burn but rope does.”

  The general nodded. “You can’t escape now anyway, the whole cottage is dragon-proofed with double-stone walls and reinforced steel. Not to mention the sentries I have stationed outside.”

  Baron frowned. “And how did your people even know to build a dragon-proof cottage?”

  The general laughed, a shrill, ear piercing sound. “You think your merry band of dragons were the first to come to Earth?”

  Baron hardly dared to breathe. Was it possible Kadin had survived and was even now being hunted by the PDA? Or was the poor bastard locked away someplace with the PDA doing goddess knew what to him?

  Of course he knew of other Riddich people who’d explored Earth and discovered this world had breeders, but most of them had returned to Riddich. Had those left behind been captured by the PDA? His throat closed up and he had to force his words out. “You’re saying we’re not?”

  The general arched a bushy gray brow. “I’ll tell you what you want to know after you tell me what I want to know.” The general pulled free a knife from a scabbard on the inside of his leg. The sharp blade cut through the rope on Baron’s wrists like a blade through butter, and he shook the circulation back into his arms.

  The general pushed the blade back into its scabbard, overly confident of his safety. Of course the bastard knew he had him by the balls with Piper’s safety at risk. “Now ... perhaps you’ll tell me exactly how many of you landed on Earth and why you’ve come here.”

  “And why would I do that?” Baron asked.

  The general’s smile cooled. “Aside from the fact you don’t want your pretty little lady getting hurt?”

  *

  Piper stepped close, her mouth drying and her body tense. “Don’t listen to him, Baron. He’s blackmailing you.”

  The general tsked, his lips pressing together. “I’m doing my job. I’m not trying to fool anyone about that. But ... perhaps now isn’t the time for questions.” He exhaled a noisy breath and pointed to an internal door. “Perhaps you’ll feel more willing to talk after a shower and some sleep.”

  Piper’s tension ramped up another notch. “We’re your prisoners, why are you being so nice to us? What is it exactly that you want?”

  The general rubbed a hand over his smooth jaw. “You always have distrusted everyone too easily, haven’t you, Piper?”

  She frowned. “How do you know so much about me?”

  He chuckled. “You really don’t know, do you? Actually, never mind, it’s better that I just show you.”

  He turned and clapped his hands once. “Misha!”

  A young woman entered the cottage, her waist-length hair blacker than night and her figure slight beneath her yellow dress. Piper flinched, her senses buzzing, skin prickling and pulse soaring. She didn’t need to see the woman’s eyes to know she wasn’t human. She’d also bet this woman had been who she’d sensed closing in on Lemmie’s house. “What is she?”

  The general turned back to them, his smile directed at Piper. “She, my dear, is a werewolf, one of three left in my care after a ... colleague was foolish enough to be incinerated on a PDA mission.”

  Baron stiffened. “Incinerated by a dragon?”

  The general smirked. “Congratulations. It appears you’re no longer completely oblivious to the goings on around here.”

  Baron’s shoulders stiffened, his jaw unyielding. “What was the name of the dragon who incinerated your friend?”

  The general raised a bushy brow. “Do you really think I’ll answer that when I’ve got nothing from you in return?” He laughed. “You’ll get nothing out of me, not in this lifetime, my friend. Not without sharing a confiden
ce first.”

  Piper felt the tension emanating from Baron. Of course he’d want to know which dragon had flamed one of the PDA scum, she’d give the dragon an award herself if she ever met him—or her. A pity the general withheld the information so he could use it to control and manipulate Baron into revealing his own secrets.

  “Don’t answer him, Baron.”

  The general turned to her, his mouth hard. “Perhaps I’ve been too charitable in keeping you together?”

  Baron stepped closer to her. “She stays. I’m sure you know that’s non-negotiable.”

  The general considered Baron for a moment, and then inclined his head. Piper frowned. The man had given in too easily. But before she could dwell any further on it, the general turned back to Misha. “You may show a little of your true self now before your shift later.”

  Misha slowly lifted her face, revealing glowing red eyes and the flash of white, fanged teeth. She stared at Piper for a few long seconds, then with hair fanning out, she swung around and exited the cottage, leaving as quietly and gracefully as she’d arrived. But taking a thundercloud of emotion with her.

  “What are you doing with her?” Piper asked. Her senses weren’t just attuned to the supernatural; they picked up on feelings too. And Misha had been one wretched and angry werewolf.

  “She’s one of my best and most trusted soldiers. But that really isn’t your concern,” the general said. “You’ve got enough on your plate to worry about in regards to Baron. He’s in a rather precarious position right now.”

  Piper glared. “Baron has done nothing wrong.”

  The general shrugged. “That’s not up to us to decide is it? Now please, go and have that shower.” His nose wrinkled as he eyed her dirty and torn clothes. “Make yourself look human; god only knows I see enough non-humans already.” His laugh grated like marbles over tin. “You’ll find fresh clothes in the bedroom.”

  “Do you always have spare clothes lying around?” Piper asked.

  The general shrugged. “One should always be prepared.”

  Piper watched as the loathsome man turned and walked out the front steel door. When a heavy lock scraped into place a second later, she breathed, “What a pig.”

  Baron exhaled heavily. “At least he’s treating us with some measure of consideration.”

  Piper gaped. “We’re his prisoners! It’s preposterous to think for even one second he’ll set us free out of the goodness of his heart. He’s a blackguard, a monster!”

  Baron’s lips twitched. “Preposterous? Blackguard?”

  She threw her hands into the air. “You’ve probably noticed weird things slip out when I’m emotional.”

  His eyes glinted, glowed. “You’re my unique Earth girl.”

  Her heart thudded in response. His Earth girl. Why did those words have such a profound ring to them? And why did the little bit of resistance she have weaken and break away? “And you’re my elite alien man.”

  His lips twitched. “We sound perfect for one another.” Something in the air shifted, heightening awareness. Then he shook his head and got down to business. “The general hasn’t tortured us, and from where I’m standing that’s a bonus. We need to stay on his good side and buy some more time.”

  She forced herself to focus on the fact they weren’t some loved-up couple in a romantic motel room. They were prisoners, locked inside with soldiers just outside. “That might be easier said than done.”

  He assessed the room, where the single light globe threw enough light to showcase the cottage’s cold durability. “This place might be made of stone and reinforced steel, but nothing is infallible.”

  She pushed a hand through her hair. “Yeah well, I’m a weakling. I’d be lucky to arm wrestle one of your fingers.”

  Baron’s eyes crinkled at the corners, the golden shards of his irises again glinting with flame. Her breath caught low in her throat. Damn, she could stare at his eyes all day. She could only imagine how magnificent he’d look in his dragon form.

  He pressed a fist to his chest. “Your strength comes from within. I’ve seen warriors with far less courage.”

  Warmth pulsed through her. Praise wasn’t something she was used to hearing, and she had to forcibly push aside the compliment and shift the focus to someone else. “What about Misha? She doesn’t deserve to be here. If we find a way to escape, we have to save her too.”

  His hands curled around her shoulders, his dark stare holding hers. “We don’t know what she is capable of doing, or even if she wants to be saved. We can’t worry about anyone else. We have to play along with what the PDA want from us while I devise a way to get us out of here.”

  She blinked up at him, his big hands seeping warmth into her skin and making her all too aware of how fragile she’d look next to his towering bulk. “You’d save your own skin over someone else’s?”

  His eyes sharpened. “No. I’d save your skin over someone else’s.”

  Chapter Nine

  Something thrilling pulsed through her. He cared about her that much? He’d been through hell and back while the men on Earth who’d been through very little treated her with disdain.

  Or maybe it’s guilt from not being able to save Rhyhana that makes Baron overprotective of you?

  She tilted her head to the side, yearning suddenly to know more about him and what had made him the man he was today. “Tell me something ... do you and torture know each other well?”

  He blinked, and then conceded, “All Riddichians do. Before our first shift into dragon, we’re routinely tortured so that we might grow used to our body tearing itself apart.”

  She stared. “Routinely tortured?”

  “Yes. Our people held monthly pain rituals in which to increase our pain threshold. The rituals begin once we’ve hit twenty years of age. With each subsequent ritual the suffering is intensified until our inner dragon decides it’s time to break out. Of course we need the stimulus of a sexually compatible mate to spark the shift.”

  Her chest ached for him and his kind. “So what happens if you never find that mate?”

  His stare didn’t waver. “Then we continue enduring the monthly pain rituals until a mate finally presents itself.”

  She shook her head. “But what if you went five or even ten years before finding someone compatible?”

  He snorted. “If only that were true, but it’s closer to a century before we can endure a dragon shift. And it’s sometimes much longer to find a compatible mate.”

  “A century?” she said weakly. The fact Riddich people were ageless seemed unremarkable compared to living through a hundred years or more of deliberate pain.

  He nodded. “Yes. I am almost two centuries of age. A little older than the king I serve. Unless a Riddichian is killed, our species is immortal.”

  “You recently lost Rhyhana, so I’m guessing she wasn’t the one who brought out your dragon?”

  He shook his head. “You guessed right. Dragons have healthy sex drives, nothing more. Even a first mate is rarely one’s true mate.” His stare darkened. “Nothing and no one gets between a dragon and his one true mate.”

  Her knees went weak. What must it be like to be a dragon’s true mate—this dragon’s true mate? Something dark and dangerous coiled tight inside her as she imagined Baron with the one he should have been destined to be with. If he was wonderful to her, she could only imagine how he’d treat his true mate.

  Then it occurred to her. “So now you’ll never find your true mate,” she said softly. Not with the females of his species all dead.

  “It’s possible I could still find one. There are a handful of female species in the universe we can mate with and ... reproduce. We call them breeders.”

  Her belly pulled tight. “So you might one day meet one of those breeders?”

  His eyes searched hers. “It’s possible.” Regret flashed behind his stare. “I only wish it was you.”

  So she wasn’t one of the fabled breeders then. A sharp pang of disappointment
was followed by something bittersweet. At least he wasn’t with her because she was some broodmare. She swallowed past a burning in her throat as an image of him with another woman, a woman she didn’t even know, burned into her brain.

  She no longer wanted to think about breeders and true mates. “Can you voluntarily shift into dragon?”

  “I have many times. But few of my people instigated their change unless Riddich’s full moons forced them. The pain is too intense.”

  She blinked, looking at him with silly tenderness filling her up from within. “I’m sorry that you have to go through such agony. Being a shape shifting dragon is clearly nowhere near as wonderful as it sounds.”

  “The pain would have been worth it if our fire-breathing beasts had defeated our enemies. And we would have if not for the sheer number of Tantonics.”

  She shivered. “Those same Tantonics might be tracking us down as we speak.”

  He nodded. “Without doubt.” He released her and stepped back to again scrutinize the stone walls. “Though I imagine my heat signature will be close to negligible in here.”

  She tried not to dwell on the fact she already missed his heated touch. She had to think about their safety. “So while we’re stuck here we might actually be safe from the Tantonics?”

  He nodded. “Yes. A pity the same wasn’t true for the PDA.”

  She massaged her temples with a hand. “Why aren’t the PDA after the Tantonics too? Why are my people taking a particular interest in you?”

  He frowned, his gaze turning thoughtful. “Perhaps the Tantonics aren’t useful to the PDA? We can shape change, and regenerate with every shift.”

  “Not to mention you live eternally and breathe fire,” she said softly.

  He nodded. “Yes, while a Tantonic is short-lived and only powerful because of their great numbers.”

  She rubbed her arms up and down. “The Tantonics might be evil killers, but the PDA is little better. They’ve been messing with my head for years. And I have no doubt they’re planning something horrible now they have you.”

  His stare returned to her, his eyes glowing. “What did they do to you?” he growled.