Rebel Dragon

by Anna Lowe

  “How about you? First time to Maui?” she asked.

  “Yeah. First time.”

  She looked him over, searching for a clue of some kind. He didn’t seem like the type to lie around on the beach or to hit the waves. Was he visiting a relative? Embarking on a top secret underwater salvage operation?

  “Work or pleasure?” she asked. And damn it, her voice went up on pleasure, implying all kinds of intimate things.

  The right side of his chin twitched — a chin covered with the kind of light stubble a girl could drag her cheek across a few times — and his eyes shone with a suppressed smile. “Work.”

  Which was a good thing, because hearing that deep, gravelly voice utter a word like pleasure would probably make every woman in a ten-row radius orgasm.

  “New job,” he added.

  Just enough of her old, unfettered self snuck back in to make her hazard a guess. “Fireman? Lifeguard? Construction?”

  He smiled, and she checked his teeth as he weighed up his answer. No pointy fangs, which was a plus. Her eyes wandered to the swirling edge of a tattoo barely poking out from under his short sleeve.

  Nice tattoo, she burned to say. Is it a dragon?

  She imagined him flashing a huge, perfect smile and pulling the sleeve up to show it off. Then she would turn to show him the leaping dolphin tattooed on the small of her back, and before long, they’d be chatting like old friends. Maybe even trading phone numbers, arranging to meet up someplace.

  But then she remembered her stalker and went stiff all over. She wasn’t giving her number to anyone. Not even this man.

  The plane lurched away from the gate, getting ready to taxi down the runway. The man’s eyes flicked to the window, and a ripple of foreboding traveled through him, as if he, too, had just remembered the importance of protecting some deep, dark secret he could never reveal.

  “Security,” he said in a clipped, no-bullshit tone that made it clear he wasn’t going to volunteer much more.

  “Security, huh?”

  He nodded curtly then rolled his neck absently as if limbering up for a fight.

  “Nice,” she murmured.

  And damn — it was nice just having him there, shrinking her world down to a protected, manageable space.

  Within minutes, the engines were straining, the plane rattling, and gravity pressing Jenna into her seat. The plane took off, rose sharply, and banked in a big curve over the Pacific. A totally normal takeoff, but somehow, Good Guy didn’t seem impressed.

  “Do you know much about flying?” she asked.

  His nostrils flared as if he were the one watching out for a vampire. But then he cracked into a grin, amused. “Yeah. I do.”

  His tone had a note of finality to it, and he looked away. Okay, so he didn’t want to talk. So she gave up on conversation and looked down at the lights of LA. Somewhere down there was her stalker. And, ha — she was getting away! But the elation was followed by a riptide of exhaustion, and she blinked as the stress of the past weeks slowly steamrolled over her eyelids. She rested her head against the wall. Maybe her neighbor wasn’t going to provide sparkling conversation for the next six hours. But as long as he was there, protecting her like a castle boxing in the king on a chessboard, she might as well get some sleep.

  Just as she was bundling her sweatshirt into a makeshift pillow, though, a hand appeared beside her head, and she nearly jumped out of her skin.

  “Sorry,” the man in the seat behind her murmured, releasing her seat once he turned on his overhead light.

  Jenna tried to slow her speeding pulse by taking a couple of deep breaths and closing her eyes. When she opened them again, Good Guy was studying her.

  “Did you say something was bothering you — or someone?” His voice was a low rumble, his eyes fierce.

  She froze, not sure what to say. Could she even come out with it? Yes. I’m afraid I have a stalker, and he might be a vampire.

  “Maybe I can help,” he said, very quietly.

  He put his left hand on the seat in front of him, blocking off any dangers that lurked in the aisle or beyond. That revealed another tattoo on the inside of his forearm — a sword crossed by lightning strikes.

  Special Forces. A friend of Jenna’s had once crushed on a soldier, going on and on about every little detail of the man and those elite fighting corps.

  Her heart thumped with new hope, and yes, please jumped to the tip of her tongue. But she bit her lip before the words slipped out, because the answer had to be no. She already had help — or rather, she would as soon as she got to Maui.

  “Thanks,” she said, shaking her head. “I think I have it under control.”

  His eyebrows went up a little, catching her lie.

  “Well, if you change your mind, you let me know.” After another long minute of studying her, he nodded slowly and extended a hand. “I’m Connor.”

  The moment her hand slipped into his, her whole body tingled, right down to her toes.

  “Jenna,” she said a little breathlessly.

  It was a good thing her sister wasn’t there to tease her about going all dreamy-eyed over a man, and Jenna couldn’t understand it herself. No one had ever affected her that way.

  Her pulse skipped in a burst of anxiety. What if no one ever did again?

  “Jenna,” he whispered, trying her name out like the first notes of a song.

  She didn’t realize they were still holding hands until the plane shook with a little turbulence, making her grip her armrest. The second she did, something in her wept. Why couldn’t she have gone on holding his hand?

  “So. Jenna,” Good Guy said in a low, secret voice that vowed never to expose her fears to anyone. “It’s a long flight. Too bad I’m not tired. But you could get a little shut-eye.”

  Jenna smiled. Connor was definitely a nice guy, subtly promising to watch out for her. Not assuming or posturing, just suggesting. She bit her lip. How often did a guy like that come along?

  “That would be nice. Thank you,” she whispered, hoping her tone said more than those overused words did.

  “Sure.”

  He looked down the way men uncomfortable with praise did, and her heart thumped a little harder.

  His words — and body language — didn’t leave much room for a response, so she closed her eyes and leaned against the window. Even if she couldn’t actually sleep, she could rest a little. Sleep had been tricky to find lately, and when it came, it brought dark, twisted nightmares.

  But when she inhaled deeply, catching Connor’s scent, her mind went blissfully blank. Her shoulders slowly unwound, and instead of anticipating nightmares, she imagined guardian angels fluttering down around her. Angels with fluffy white wings sent by her mother to assure her a good night’s sleep.

  Everything will be okay, the angels sang, lulling her to sleep. Everything will be all right.

  The airplane’s engines hummed, and the cabin was quiet. And instead of vampires, her mind filled with serene images of sea life. Turtles grazing on sea grass. Fish flitting around in silvery schools. Coral bursting with color and life. Her favorite dreamscape — one she’d had since she was a little kid.

  And slowly, gradually, she drifted off into a blissfully peaceful sleep.

  Chapter Two

  Connor spent the entire flight testing the stale air of the cabin with his keen dragon nose, studying the passengers with cool, darting eyes. Otherwise, he kept perfectly still so as not to disturb the sleeping beauty at his side.

  Someone had threatened her. Spooked her enough to flee LA. He could see it in her restless, haunted eyes. Incredible blue eyes — blue like the purest part of the sky. The part straight overhead he loved to fly toward on sunny fall days, climbing until the air grew too thin to support his wings.

  But someone had pulled a cloud of anxiety over her, and he strained for any hint of who or what that might be.

  How he sat so still for so long, he had no clue, because his dragon was raging inside.

&nbs
p; Find him. Kill him. Whoever it is who scared her.

  He balled his fists against his thighs. What the hell was it about this woman that had such an effect on him?

  Her name is Jenna, his dragon grumbled.

  The beast said her name like it was pure poetry. Like he’d missed her for years even though they’d never met before.

  That doesn’t matter, his dragon insisted. Not if she’s my mate.

  Connor chewed the word over a couple of times. Frankly, he was a little hazy on the whole destined mate thing. His father was a notorious womanizer who never bothered to stick around for any of the children he’d sired around the world. Connor had only ever heard his mother cursing the fact that she’d fallen for that no-good son of a bitch. And when she finally did settle down with a man, it was a lackluster relationship in which her primary source of happiness stemmed from not being alone rather than being with exactly that person.

  So — a destined mate? Who was he to judge?

  Trust me. I know, his dragon insisted.

  That made him snort aloud. His dragon had gotten him into hot water more times than he could count. A harmless prank here, a hot-headed reaction there…

  His dragon grinned. That fireworks show we put on was worth it, man.

  Connor sighed. Duct-taping grenades to footballs and launching them in the air might not be the usual way to celebrate the Fourth of July, but hell, they had just been working with what they had in Iraq. They’d made sure to do it far from any civilians, and a whole company of weary soldiers had been entertained. And if he’d aimed a little dragon fire at the footballs to add some sparkle to the show — so what? No one had seen him do it, so no harm done, right?

  Of course, that little stunt had nearly earned him disciplinary action and a permanent mark on his record.

  He frowned at the memory. That was just one little prank. When he’d eventually filed for discharge — honorable, he hoped — his commanding officer had sighed and flipped through a thick file of incident reports first.

  Failure to obey orders…

  He’d rolled this eyes at that one. Like he would obey an order if it meant leaving a fellow soldier behind. He’d saved three guys that day — men everyone else had given up on.

  Conduct prejudicial to good order and discipline…

  Another bullshit rule. The lieutenant who’d filed that complaint didn’t know his ass from a hole in the ground. He’d made a mess of assigning duties, so Connor had quietly reassigned them. Everyone was happy — except the lieutenant when he found out.

  Delays in returning from field assignments…

  Connor scowled. So he occasionally had to take off and let his dragon out. That wasn’t a crime, and he’d made damn sure never to cross the line into Unauthorized Absence territory. Of course, he couldn’t explain where he’d been. None of his commanding officers knew about shifters — except the few who were shifters too. And it was an unwritten rule of the shifter world to never, ever allow humans to discover their existence.

  Connor huffed quietly. Written rules were hard enough to obey sometimes. Unwritten ones were damn nigh impossible to follow — but the one about keeping shifters secret, he knew.

  The officer had wrapped up with a list of descriptors in his file. Loose cannon… temperamental…impulsive. And that’s from the men recommending you, son.

  The officer had finally handed over his discharge — honorable, no less — along with a stern look in the eye.

  Make something of yourself, Hoving. And help your brothers do the same. They look up to you, you know.

  Connor sucked in a long breath. His mother had uttered almost those exact words when he’d first left home. But, hey — he was doing his best. And with this new job, he might actually reach his long-term goal: proving himself in the shifter world. Rising to a position he deserved.

  But what about Jenna? his dragon muttered.

  He curled his hands into fists. No matter how much the woman called to him, he had to resist.

  Cannot fuck this up. Cannot fuck this up.

  He’d been offered a dream job — one that would bring in much-needed cash as well as helping him climb a rung or two in the dragon world.

  Goddamn snobs, all of them, his dragon huffed.

  He held his breath lest it escape as a whiff of sulfurous ash.

  Sometimes, he wished he were a regular human. No hiding his second soul, no trying to follow unwritten rules. In the human world, he was a battle-hardened soldier returning from successive tours of duty in the world’s most dangerous combat zones. A guy getting ready to transition to a new life. But in the dragon world, he was a rookie. A nobody without the benefit of a noble bloodline.

  Well, he had his chance to make up for that now, and he couldn’t allow anything to foil that new mission.

  Not even her? His inner dragon lashed its tail so furiously, Connor kicked the seat in front of him.

  Definitely not her, he shot back, because a sunny California girl was bound to lead him astray. Sure, she had a problem of some kind. And yes, he’d love to solve it for her. But now was not the time to get involved. He had to focus on his mission. It wasn’t just his chance, it was a chance for his brothers too.

  So he sat still as a statue across a stretch of ocean even the greatest dragon would be hard pressed to cross on his own, giving the mystery woman the only gift he could — six solid hours of rest. No one was going to bother her, not even the flight attendant. Sleeping Beauty looked like she needed every second of being blissfully checked out of her world. A couple of hours wasn’t enough, but it was a start. Maybe it would help Jenna clear her mind and shake whatever worry had chased her onto the plane.

  Every now and then, he glanced over and watched her sleep. Her facial muscles had finally relaxed, and a faint smile played over her lips. Was she dreaming? Wishing? Yearning? Her chest rose and fell peacefully, and she tucked her hands up by her chin.

  Then he’d yank his gaze away before his dragon got carried away with anything. Like imagining there might be space for him to fit into her embrace.

  His joints grew stiff and his back ached in the too-small space of the economy seat, until finally, the cabin lights flicked back on.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, we are preparing for our descent to Kahului. Please ensure you return your seat to an upright position…”

  The announcement started the countdown to the end of his time with Sleeping Beauty, but it was almost worth it for the adorable way Jenna woke up. Her nose wiggled a little, and she blinked like a sleepy kitten — another image he banked away. Then she smiled, stretched, and—

  He could see the exact second her troubles caught up with her again because she frowned, and the lines on her brow reappeared.

  “All good?” he murmured, hoping that might help.

  She smiled — a smile tinged with worry, but genuine all the same. “All good,” she whispered, looking out the window into the inky night. “Wow. Are we already there?”

  His heart swelled at the we even as he mourned the idea of goodbye.

  She didn’t say much while the plane landed or taxied, but when they finally had the chance to disembark, they both turned to each other.

  “Connor,” she started.

  “Jenna,” he said at the exact same time.

  Then they both broke into grins that said so much more than nice to have met you or have a good trip. But Jenna did get one more word in when he finally dragged himself into the aisle and stood there, making space for her to exit first.

  “Thanks.”

  One little word, a big smile, and a hint of regret. Yeah, he knew just how she felt.

  “Take care,” he managed, and when she slid past him, he inhaled one parting taste of her saltwater-and-sunshine scent.

  After that, he kept his mouth shut and his eyes straight ahead. No use letting his dragon get tempted.

  Already tempted, the inner beast grumbled.

  Not going there, he ordered the beast.

  Th
e second they were outside, the humid scent of rainforest hit him, but that just seemed to complement the lingering goodness of Jenna’s scent. Maui smelled of sweet tropical flowers and lush mountain valleys. Of surf, ginger, and a little bit of brine. Like someone had taken everything alluring about Jenna and amped it up a hundred times.

  He stayed two steps behind her all the way to baggage claim and waited, taut as a spring. Watching everyone, noting the way Jenna’s face darkened when she turned on her phone for new messages — and the way she brightened a moment later before turning it off. Apparently, no news was good news.

  Another guy tried helping her haul her bag off the carousel — clearly out to impress a pretty girl, now that Connor had taken a few steps back. But Jenna took firm hold of her bag and swung it out of the man’s grasp.

  “No problem. I got it. But thanks,” she said, rolling it away from that man.

  Connor grinned — at the woman and at the bag. It was a big rolling duffle covered in a pink flower print, all cute and peppy. A lot like Jenna, especially now that whatever had bothered her was starting to ease up.

  Then she looked back and gave him one last, hopeful smile. “Maybe we’ll see each other around.”

  God, he hoped so, but it was probably better if they didn’t. Something about her made his mind want to switch off and float around a dreamy place, and he couldn’t afford that right now.

  Still, he couldn’t resist a grin. “Maybe we will.”

  She stood looking at him for a few seconds as if she might add more, then finally blinked a little and stepped away. “Bye.”

  “Bye,” he whispered, watching her go.

  Meeting a woman had never felt so much like a revelation, and saying goodbye had never felt so wrong.

  Stay with her. Follow her. Protect her, his inner beast cried.

  He was tempted, awfully tempted. But he couldn’t fall for his dragon’s pleas this time.

  Want her. Need her, the beast clamored.

  Right. Sure. His inner beast was his own worst enemy at times.