Fire in His Blood

by Ruby Dixon

  Clau-dah makes a noise that does not sound like appreciation.

  Perhaps she thinks I will not share the tenderest parts with her? She can have all of them. Sliding my hand into the viscera, I pull out the liver and hold it out to my mate, still wet with warm blood.

  Her green eyes go wide and she makes a face, then shakes her head. “No!”

  No? There is that word again. I frown. Does she not realize that a mate offers his woman the choicest bits of a kill? Does she not realize this is for eating? I take a bite out of the dripping organ, enjoying the salty gush of it into my mouth, and then hold it out to her again.

  She gasps, pressing a hand to her lips.

  Still no? Is she not hungry? Confused by her reaction, I take another bite of the delicious liver, watching her. Does she not want her gift because it is from me? Or does she not understand that it is a gift? Do the two-legs here in this ugly place not feed their mates? Care for them?

  Or…is she refusing because she already has a mate?

  I growl low at the thought, furious. Clau-dah is mine. I will battle for her. Whoever her mate is, he is not worthy of her. Just the thought of another male touching my chosen mate makes my wings flare, and I am thrust back into my battle form immediately.

  No one can have her.

  In the corner, Clau-dah squeaks with distress.

  This makes me even more furious. No matter what I do, my mate is terrified. She will never approach my gift of food now. I am further away from winning her confidence than ever before. Black rage clouds my eyes, and my breath quickens with fury.

  Darknesshungerkillangerfrustrationragedarkdarkdarkragehungerfrenzyragedarknessviolencekilldestroy

  Clau-dah, I remind myself. I think of her green eyes. Her cloud of red hair.

  Slowly, the burning anger fades from my mind. I must be calm. I must not give up. Not if I wish to claim my mate. Using my claws, I rip a haunch off of the kill and approach my mate. I drop it in front of her as an offering, and wait.

  8

  CLAUDIA

  I eye the bloody goat leg that’s been plopped in front of me with revulsion. The dragon’s hovering nearby, his gaze intent on me. I don’t know what’s more startling – that he just flashed back into dragon form in the blink of an eye or that he’s offering me a carcass.

  It’s clear he wants me to eat it. I figured as much the moment he tore a big, gushy bite out of the liver and then offered it to me, blood running down his chin.

  But as hungry as I am, I’m not a fan of raw meat.

  Meat’s a rarity most times now. In the After, it’s much wiser to keep a cow alive for milk, or chickens for eggs, instead of meat. Not that I get eggs or milk, either. There are a few farms on the edges of Fort Dallas, but the herds are small so they can be easily protected when the dragons rain down fire, and meat is at a premium…unless it’s rat or squirrel. I’ve eaten my fair share of those in the last few years.

  Goat is something new. And really, it’s big and juicy and I can eat my fill. I haven’t eaten a real meal in days, and maybe that’s why I’m considering that big hunk of raw meat.

  It’s good that he’s trying to feed me, I think. That means he doesn’t want to eat me. It’d take a long time to fatten me enough to make more than a mouthful for a dragon. My fear ebbs a little. Fuck me, yes. Eat me, no.

  Even that, I’m wondering about.

  It’s clear he’s attracted to me—thanks to the fact that he has no pants—but he stops every time I say no. That makes him better than, oh, most of the men in Fort Dallas. I slowly uncurl from my protective crouch and eye the dragon that hovers nearby, waiting. He watches me like a hawk, but his eyes are gold-on-gold. That’s a good sign.

  He leans in and noses the animal leg toward me.

  Definitely wants to feed me.

  Why me, though? Why me out of all the humans that have been killed by dragons after all this time? What makes me special? What’s so different that he’s not immediately killing me but wants to feed me instead?

  I’m hungry, too. Really hungry. Before my arrest, we’d been out of money and out of food. I’d sold what I could to buy food for Amy, but in the end, I’d only been able to buy a few stale protein bars from a trader in exchange for the last of the fuel for our small lantern. I’d given them to Amy and scavenged a few meals of my own by doing odd jobs for Fort Dallas’s only bar. I’d had offers from Blowjob Becky to join her group of whores, since that’s the only place a girl can get steady employment. I’d declined at the time, but after a few days of hunger, it was starting to look like an option.

  Then, of course, I’d gotten arrested.

  In all reality, jail wasn’t so bad. They fed me more often than I fed myself—once a day. If I hadn’t been so worried about Amy, I’d have probably enjoyed those bowls of oatmeal more. Thinking about them now makes me hungry.

  I’m always hungry.

  He nudges the goat leg in front of me again, and I decide we need to chat before I go ‘raw’ and try to eat this bloody thing. “Kael,” I say softly. “Can we talk?”

  The dragon’s ears prick, and his enormous head zooms in so close that I gasp and fall backward, startled. He only waits, though, big golden pupils alert.

  I point at the goat leg. “I’ll eat that, but not raw.”

  He studies me, then studies the goat leg. Then he looks back to me, waiting.

  All right, we’re getting nowhere fast. “I wish you’d change back,” I mutter to myself. For some reason, it feels easier to have a conversation with him when his eyeball’s not the size of a tire and staring right into my face. “This thing’s raw, and it’s got goat hide on it. I need it cooked.”

  No response. The great eyes blink, waiting.

  Okay. This isn’t working. I chew on my lip, thinking, then try another tactic. I glance over at the dragon to make sure he’s not going to spring on me and then reach for the goat leg and tug it toward me.

  He doesn’t move. All he does is watch me, gaze intent.

  All right, then. I examine the goat leg as I pull it toward me. There’s a tattered piece of skin—hide—hanging off where he ripped it from the goat’s body. I swallow hard. I’m not a total priss. I’ve seen—and eaten—kills from the Scavenge Lands. I’ve watched people dress them. I’ve caught squirrels and taken them in to sell to the stew-makers, because eating it myself means throwing away money. I’ve watched them skin the things and prep them for meals. I’ve just…never had to skin my own meat. Never had the opportunity.

  I guess now is one great big opportunity. Or something. All right. I wipe my hands and glance around, looking for something to use as a knife. There are shards of broken glass not too far away, and I move to go grab one.

  The dragon’s immediately there at my side, pushing in front of the doors to the stairwell. Black flares in his gaze.

  “Calm down, big guy,” I tell him, and dare to pat his nose. “I’m just getting some carving materials, okay? I learned my lesson. I’m not going anywhere.”

  At the sound of my soothing voice, the eyes flare gold again and he rubs against my hand, as if wanting me to touch him more. Yeah, we’re not that close yet. I give him another perfunctory pat, and then with slow, exaggerated motions, pick up a hand-sized piece of glass. I glance over at him to see if he’s going to react to the fact that I’ve picked up a weapon, but Kael seems calm. I consider the makeshift blade in my hand. It’s extremely sharp on one edge, and I’m standing very close to Kael, his head down. I could stab one of those tire-sized eyeballs and…

  And then what? Run away after wounding him? Run where? The stairwell is completely busted. Like it or not, this dragon’s my only way off the building. I guess it’s a good thing he wants to be friends.

  He nudges the leg toward me again and then noses me.

  It’s like he truly just wants to take care of me. Okay, this is officially weird. They’d told me to tame the dragon, and I’d thought it was the craziest thing I’d ever heard of. Except now…I’m not
so sure. Kael’s not acting like the other dragons. Do dragons like humans, one on one? Is that the key? If we get close enough to one of the big, murdering brutes and get one alone, we can become buddies?

  Maybe this isn’t such a crackpot plan, after all. Maybe it’s not certain death. I’m a big fan of uncertain death versus certain.

  Using the blade of glass, I skin the goat leg as best I can. It’s gross, bloody work, and I don’t have anything to wipe my hands on. I’m naked, and the dress they left me with? It’s around here somewhere, but I’m too dirty to put it on. I sure don’t want to get goat blood on it, so I just wipe my hands on the hide as I go and hope I’m not spreading too many germs.

  Eventually, it’s mostly skinned and almost looks like regular meat. Almost. I straighten and admire my handiwork. Not too bad. Now if I can just convince him to cook it, it might not be a half-bad meal.

  I glance up at Kael. “I don’t suppose you’re one of those fire-breathing dragons, are you? Or are those just the red ones?”

  He watches me intently and then noses my hair.

  I push his head away. “Not right now. I’m trying to concentrate.” I glance back at him. “I don’t suppose I could tell you to change back so we can chat?”

  Nothing. Figures.

  I pat the raw goat leg. “Cook this please.” When that gets me nowhere, I go for charades. I gesture at my nose, then pantomime flames (or, okay, a really great sneeze) shooting out onto the goat leg. Then I point at him. “You cook it with fire. Please.”

  The great head tilts, and then he whuffs out a small gush of flame from his nostrils. It’s so close to my head that I yelp and scurry backward, patting at my hair.

  All right. That was a little alarming, but we’re getting somewhere. I nod enthusiastically and gesture at the meat. “Yes! Cook!”

  At my encouraging tone, he blows out a larger gush of flame, searing the leg. It crackles, and the fat sizzles on it, the smell of charring meat filling the air. The flames end as quickly as they erupted, and he looks expectantly over at me again, smoke trickling from his nostrils.

  I move forward, putting a hand on his muzzle as a warning not to fry me, and check the meat. Still raw underneath the top layer. I move away again and gesture for him to ‘cook’ once more. He does, and after the second round, I check it again. Charred, but not bad at all. I dig my fingers into the meat and pull off a long strip, chewing thoughtfully. Juices rush into my mouth, and I close my eyes at the heavenly taste. This is the first real, fresh meat I’ve had in I don’t know how long. It doesn’t matter that it’s goat. It doesn’t matter that it’s been dragon-broiled.

  It’s amazing.

  I want to stuff my mouth full and eat until I get sick, because who knows when I’ll get another chance to have this much fresh food? I give Kael a beaming smile and reach out to stroke his nose. “Thank you. This is perfect.”

  He noses my hair, and his tongue brushes against my neck. When I push him away, I see his eyes are black.

  Eep. I know what that means. I grab the meat and step away, giving him a wary look. He blinks, and his eyes go back to gold. Good. He doesn’t follow me to my new seat, either. Also good. It’s like he knows that he needs to back off when he goes over the edge. That makes me relax a little. As long as I can recognize when he’s about to cut loose, I can stop it from happening.

  So I eat. Dragon-roasted goat is the best thing I’ve had in forever, so I eat as much as I can and then push it away. The moment I do, he wolfs the remainder down. Bones crunch, and then he looks at the rest of the goat’s carcass and then back to me.

  I wave a hand at it and shake my head. “No more for Claudia.”

  He seems to grasp that and scarfs the remainder of the goat down in a single gulp.

  Handy way to get rid of a mess, I suppose. I search for something to wipe my hands on, but there’s nothing clean. I’m thirsty, too, but I suppose that’s a problem that can be solved later. The sun is going down, and I’m starting to get cold. The wind’s rising, and it bites into my bare skin. I find the flimsy white bit of fabric that made up my dress and wrap it around my shoulders, curling up in a corner. With food in my belly, I’m suddenly exhausted. I’m crashing, I think. I’ve spent most of the day utterly terrified, and now I just feel drained.

  Whatever Kael wants with me, he wants me alive. That much is obvious. I seem to be his prisoner, since I can’t get down off this building on my own. I lean back against a broken bit of wall and sigh. I’m better off where I am, for now. A yawn escapes me, and I muffle it with my hand.

  The movement catches the dragon’s attention, and Kael’s big paw reaches out for me. I stiffen as it curls around me, but he only pulls me against his chest and settles down on the floor. He cradles me between his forelegs and lays his head down.

  I still have the piece of glass that I’d used to butcher the goat. I can attack him. I can try to force an escape. The urge to fight hasn’t left me.

  But he’s being gentle with me. His scaled chest is toasty like a furnace, and the terrible claws are oh-so-careful not to harm me. It’s like he knows that I’m fragile and is taking extra care to make sure that I’m safe. And it’s weird, but I feel a strange little thrill at how carefully, how closely, he holds me.

  Man, I must really be starved for affection if I’m liking it that a dragon’s cuddling me.

  Then again, maybe I shouldn’t be surprised—life in the After is hard and unpleasant. No one’s affectionate, because trusting someone can get you killed. Anyone that gives you attention likely has an angle. The last boyfriend I had stole all of the food I’d carefully hoarded, and after that, I never entertained another relationship. I have Amy and Sasha, but I admit that sometimes it’s lonely. Sometimes it’s hard being the one that’s in charge, the one that everyone looks to in order to make things right again.

  Maybe that’s why I like the dragon’s embrace, no matter how ridiculous it seems. The control’s been taken away from me. All I have to do is sleep and let someone else handle things.

  Even if it’s a dragon.

  After a moment’s hesitation, I relax against him and close my eyes. At least he’s warm. My arm brushes against an enormous claw, and I remember just how big and scary he is. How one wrong move can tear me limb from limb. Maybe dragon cuddles aren’t such a good idea, after all. I’m a little tense as I settle into my ‘bed.’ I won’t fall asleep, of course. I’ll be too terrified. But at least I can be warm.

  And yet the moment I close my eyes, I drift off.

  KAEL

  I scarcely dare to breathe as Clau-dah relaxes against me and her breath evens out into sleep. It takes every bit of my inner strength not to bury my nose in the soft cloud of her hair and drink in her scent. Having her here, clutched against me, feels like the greatest gift. With her hand on my scales, my mind feels crisp and bright, not blurred by madness. It has been so very long, and I have her to thank.

  My Clau-dah. My mate.

  She has yet to take battle-for. I think she does not have one at all, confirming my suspicions. That makes her all the more fragile, and it means I must be vigilant in my task to keep her safe. She cannot speak to me with her mind, either. I have reached out to her several times, even as we stood close together, and gotten nothing in return. If she were drakoni, my mind could touch hers and we could communicate with a thought.

  But if she were drakoni, she would be as crazed as the rest of my people. Her thoughts would be eaten up with the anger and the darkness. I am glad she is other.

  More than anything, I ache to claim her, to take her as my own. I want nothing more than to transform into my two-legged form and curl around her as a mate would. To hold her close and sink my cock into her warm, willing cunt. But I cannot. Not yet, not while she is yet frightened of me. I will not touch her until she welcomes it. Until then, I will take the small joys. The fact that she sleeps so peacefully against me is pleasing. I thought I would lose my sanity when she ran away, and in that moment, I nearly b
roke again. I nearly broke a second time when she dangled off the edge of the strange cliff, but I was able to bring her back safely. My claws tighten around her in remembered fear. So close to losing her just after I found her.

  Clau-dah makes a soft noise in her sleep, protesting my grip.

  I immediately relax my claws again. She shifts her weight and presses her cheek to my scales, tucking her small body against mine. A small, tired sigh escapes her, and I want to bite it out of the air and keep it. My heart feels full. Complete.

  I will do anything to keep this. To keep her.

  Anything.

  9

  CLAUDIA

  I awaken to the faint sound of something stirring, and I’m surprised to see that the sun is bright and there are birds chirping in the distance. Did I sleep all night? Despite being naked, filthy, and cradled against a dragon? Guess so. Even now, my cheek is resting against the deliciously warm scales of his foreleg, and my arm and leg are thrown over him like he’s a great big pillow. I’m not even embarrassed. I slept far too well.

  I straighten, pushing my messy hair out of my eyes, and glance up at the dragon’s face. Kael is alert, his head high and stiff, eyes flicking between gold and black. As I watch, a plume of steam rises from one nostril, and his long tail lashes somewhere far behind us, stirring debris. It must be the sound that woke me up.

  But why is he so agitated?

  I remain still, not wanting to startle him, and decide to wait for him to notice that I’m awake. He remains in a state of alert, though, and doesn’t seem to be paying any attention to me. All right. I know what to do in dangerous situations—extract myself from said dangerous situation. I sit up and start to creep away, only to have one clawed paw reach out and immediately grab me, dragging me close to his chest again. I make a small noise of protest and push at one of the gigantic black talons, but instead of letting me go, he makes a cage with them.