by T. S. Joyce
“Oh, no, I couldn’t ask you to do that.”
“Princess, after that speech, I know you won’t.” He clenched his jaw and gave his attention to a wall of windows. The acrid scent of anger filled her sensitive nose. “Look, there’s nothing I’d rather do than get out of here and go home. It’s been a long fucking week for me. But you’re playing a mighty good damsel in distress right now and I feel…I feel….” Kane made a soft sound deep in his throat and then muttered the F-word. It seemed to be his favorite of all the curses. “I’ll get me a room, and you can crash on the floor. It’s not charity, so stop looking at me like that.”
“Hmmm,” she hummed with a smile.
Kane’s lips pursed into a thin line. “What?”
“I knew you were a gentleman.”
“Woman, I just told you I’m going to make you sleep on the floor.”
“But the floor is warm.”
“While I sleep on the bed.”
“And the floor won’t have any bugs.”
Kane ran his hand roughly down his dark facial scruff and growled—growled! It sounded scary for a human. “I’m no gentleman, princess. I really wish you would quit calling me things I’m not.”
“Well I’m not calling you Dark Kane.”
“Well, maybe you should!”
Rowan crossed her arms over her chest and grinned as he opened the passenger side door of an old Bronco. She pursed her lips against saying gentleman again.
“Shut up,” he muttered.
“You liiiike me.” Rowan scrambled in and sang louder, “You li-high-high-high-iiike meee!”
Kane slammed the door beside her and tossed their stuff into the back seat like it weighed less than a booger.
“You’re strong for a human,” she said as he climbed behind the wheel. When she squeezed his bicep, he flinched away from her. “Do you work out a lot?”
“Yes.”
“Is it so you can grow muscles for ze ladies?”
“No.”
“Is it so you can look at yourself in the mirror a lot?”
“No.”
“Is it to make up for a tiny wiener?”
“No!”
“What are your tattoos?”
Kane turned on the car and jerked the radio dial to level-deafening.
“I’ll guess then. You like the ocean, so you’ve covered your arm in mermaid tattoos.”
“I don’t like deep water.”
“I’m scared,” she blurted out.
Kane pulled out of the parking spot, but eased to a stop at the main road. With a long, irritated sigh, he turned down the radio and asked, “What are you scared of?”
Rowan swallowed hard. “The Sickening. Dragon’s die slowly if they lose their treasures. It’s an awful way to go.”
She thought he would ignore her again, but as he hit the gas, he murmured, “You won’t get sick.”
A warm sensation drifted over her skin and landed in her chest. “Promise?”
“One of us in in trouble here, Rowan, and I have a feeling you know it isn’t you.”
She frowned and buckled her seat belt. He said weird stuff that she didn’t understand. But Kane was a smart man. She could tell by the way he talked, and she didn’t want to ask dumb questions. But some of his words were like riddles. He was in trouble and she wasn’t? That didn’t make any sense. His voice had sounded truthful, as though he believed what he was saying, but she was the one with the lost treasure. And even if she did find her treasure, there was a mountain of stress—literally—waiting for her in Harper’s territory. Rowan was supposed to be the protector of the Bloodrunner Crew, and she couldn’t even keep up with her damned luggage.
No. If one of them was in trouble out of her and Kane, it was definitely her.
Chapter Four
Kane pulled into a motel parking lot and stopped in front of the office. He threw the Bronco in park and shoved the door open, got out without a word.
“Should I come too?” Rowan asked.
“Do what you want,” he clipped out, limping to the glass door. He threw it open and started talking with a bored looking receptionist. She was young, probably a couple years younger than Rowan, with strawberry blond curls and blue eyes that had sparked with interest when she looked up from the book she was reading. Okay then. Rowan shoved open her door and made her way inside. She didn’t miss the disappointment in—Rowan squinted at the woman’s nametag—Rhonda’s eyes when she saw Rowan.
“Hey sexy-potomas,” Rowan said, slipping her arms around Kane’s waist.
Kane froze like one of those Grecian statues with the fig leaves over their peckers. She bet he would need a palm leaf to cover his.
“What are you doing?” he asked in that sexy, growly voice of his.
Damn, he smelled good, like cologne and something else. Something yummy and manly. Kane was dominant for a human. She sniffed his hoodie once more. “I’m flirting.” She smiled at Rhonda. “Flirting with my love beaver.”
“Oh, God,” Kane muttered, but she was pretty sure she saw a smile on his lips. “I need a room. Do you have any left with two beds?”
Rowan explained, “We need a room with two beds, because double sex.”
Kane snorted, and now he was angling his face away from hers, but she could still see his jaw all swollen up with his hidden smile. He cleared his throat loudly. “Do you take cash?”
“Uuuh,” Rhonda said as she eyed her computer screen. “Yes, we take cash, and no we don’t have two beds.”
Rhonda smelled like horny pheromones as she lifted a flirty smile to Kane.
When Rowan shoved her hand in Kane’s back pocket, he yelped and flexed his butt. Geez, he’d been doing his squats.
“Rowan,” he muttered.
“Hmmm?”
“Why don’t you go wait over there so I can get this done?”
“I like it here.”
He sighed heavily. “Rowan, unhand my ass.”
“Fine,” she muttered, making her way toward a rack of tourist pamphlets. She picked up one on white water rafting, and then one on zip-lining. The third one made her gasp. She pulled out the pamphlet for Big Flight ATV Tours. “Kane!”
Kane ducked as if she’d thrown something at him. “God, woman, do you have to yell all the time?”
“I know them!” She pointed at the picture of Ryder Croy and Weston Novak riding ATVs on the front page of the brochure.
Kane glared at it. At least she thought he did because he still insisted on wearing his sunglasses, even in the dead of night, even inside. “Cool,” he muttered, handing Rhonda a few twenties.
“No, I mean, I know them.” She stared in shock down at the picture of her childhood friends. “They’re famous.”
“You’re just now realizing this?” Kane asked. “Ryder has a massive following online.”
“You know them, too? Kane, small world! We were meant to be friends.”
“We aren’t friends.”
Unperturbed, Rowan beamed down at the pamphlet. “Oh, right.” Rhonda was listening. “We’re lovers.”
Kane groaned, and Rhonda looked weirded out. Rowan held up the Big Flight advertisement. “I’m keeping this because they are my friends.”
“Okay,” Rhonda said, her blue eyes giant and her delicate eyebrows arched up like the McDonalds sign.
Kane shoved his wallet and the room cards into his back pocket. “Sorry for all this,” he muttered to the receptionist.
“Bye, Rhonda,” Rowan said with a wave of her pamphlet as she followed Kane out.
“Bye,” the receptionist said as Rowan bounced out the door.
Big Flight. Weston and Ryder on a real picture. “Are these things in lots of places?” she asked Kane.
“Probably.”
“Wow,” she said on a breath.
“I’m starving,” Kane muttered as he pulled the Bronco toward room 10B.
“Me too. I could eat three hamburgers. There is that diner across the street. It says open all ni
ght. It says so, look. Open all night.”
Kane didn’t say anything, though. He just parked and unloaded their stuff into the single room with the small bed.
“This is fancy,” Rowan said, hands on her hips as she scoured the room. Sure, one of the desk lights was out and it smelled like mildew, but it beat trying to sleep on a bench outside the airport.
“What you said back there,” Kane said carefully as he washed his hands at the sink. “That isn’t going to happen.”
“The diner? It’s happening for me. I’m hungry.”
“Not the diner, princess. The sex. That’s not what I’m about. That’s not why I brought you here.”
“Oh, I know.”
“Do you?” He turned slowly and rested his hips against the sink. Crossing his arms, he asked, “Then why were you acting like that?”
“Because I didn’t like the way Rhonda was looking at you. I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” She rifled through her purse for a tube of lip gloss. Mom had taught her to never leave the house without it. “Tonight you’re my hero. Not hers.”
Kane huffed a harsh breath. “I’m Dark Kane, Rowan. I’m nobody’s hero.”
She disagreed, but he would only argue, so she slathered her lips in pink and shouldered her purse. “I’ll buy you dinner if you spend eight dollars or less.”
He stared for a while, as if he was going to change his mind and stay in the room, but at long last, he nodded once and peeled off his hoodie. His black T-shirt underneath came up with it. Rowan got a peek at a gloriously defined six-pack and a sexy V of muscle at his hips. His jeans hung just right around his waist, nice and low, and when his hoodie came off his head, his sunglasses went with it. She’d imagined he was hiding scars, but his face was flawless. He was all sharp angles and the perfect amount of facial hair, and his eyes… He wouldn’t meet her gaze, but from here they looked like a strange, bright color she’d never seen on a human before.
Then, in an instant, his sunglasses were back on and he was straightening his shirt over his smooth skin. His hair was a lot longer on top and shaved on the sides. Pitch black tresses flopped over into his face. His arms were visible now, biceps and shoulders pressing against the thin material. One arm was bare, smooth and tan, while the other was covered in tattoos. Roses and skulls. Sexy. The skin was uneven in some places, though, as though he’d been burned.
Kane looked like a badass.
“Whoa,” she murmured, staring at his perfectly puckered nipples poking out from his perfectly defined pecs. One slow blink later, and she forced her gaze up to his sunglasses. “You’re pretty.”
Kane chuckled a deep, resonating sound, but cut himself off. His dark eyebrows lowered as if he’d surprised himself with that sound. He cleared his throat and ran his hand through his hair like a total sexpot. “Are we going or what?”
Why were her boobs tingling? She’d never had a type before, but right now, she was pretty fuckin’ convinced her type was Dark and Delicious Kane. She wanted to have his babies. Well, not really his babies, since childbirth was dangerous for female dragons, but she definitely wanted to purchase a puppy with him, or at minimum a goldfish named Kane Jr.
But he’s human.
Inside of her, Dragon became somber and sad. Kane couldn’t be theirs. Not ever. Even if he didn’t say riddles all the time, or dislike her, he was fragile. She’d tried that before, fallen head-over-heals for a man who didn’t match her, and they both got hurt. She wouldn’t hurt Kane. Not when he’d done so much to help her today.
Rowan smiled sadly and followed him out the door. As they walked across the parking lot, Kane looked back at her twice. Yeah, she was dragging her feet now. She’d never felt a connection like this—confusing and overwhelming all at once—and it would lead to nothing. Dammit, okay, she was pouting.
He slowed and waited for her to catch up before he spoke again. “I’ve come to the realization that you have two speeds.” Kane shoved his hands in his pockets and his jeans slid down farther, exposing a strip of stomach muscle and making Rowan feel like the whole damn world was unfair.
“What speeds?”
“You are a blur in fast motion, talking ninety-to-nothing, asking so many damn questions a person can’t keep up, or you hole up into yourself and go still. You are either spewing your thoughts or lost in your head, and there is no in-between.”
Huh. Well, that drew her up. No one had ever put a finger on her manic personality quite so quickly. Even with sunglasses and in the dark of night, Kane was seeing her more than most people ever had.
Rowan lengthened her stride and slipped her hand in the curve of his inner elbow. His muscles were hard as boulders and his skin soft as silk.
Kane flinched and tensed, but allowed the touch. He cast a quick glance down at where they connected and let off a sharp breath. “Bloodrunner, I don’t know your end-game, but after tonight, I’m gone, okay?”
Rowan leaned her head against the strong curve of his shoulder and sighed. “I know. It’s fun to be friends tonight, though.”
“We aren’t—”
“For crap sake, Kane. Just let me have this. It’s the only thing keeping my mind off my treasure. Just pretend with me, okay?”
His Adam’s apple bobbed in his muscular neck, and then Kane nodded once. “Fine.”
“Kane?”
“Hmm?”
“Are you afraid of me?” His response mattered more than she would ever admit out loud.
He didn’t answer her, though. Instead, he suddenly became really busy opening the door for her and finding them seats in the bustling restaurant. Even thought it was two-thirty in the morning, the local bars must’ve just let out because the place was hopping.
Kane took her hand and led her to a booth in the corner by the window. The diner was all checkered tiles and black tables trimmed with chrome. There were a bunch of pictures of famous people on the wall with autographs. Kane’s hand was so strong and firm around hers, she was having trouble removing her attention from the place their skin touched. He hadn’t flinched away from her heat. She ran a lot hotter than humans, and usually they felt the burn immediately, but not Kane. In fact, he ran a little warm, too. Maybe his nerves were damaged. The more she studied his tattooed arm, the less his injuries looked like burns and more like shrapnel scars. Perhaps he’d tattooed the arm to cover them up.
For some reason, that made her really sad. Scars were badges of honor where she came from, but it wasn’t the same for humans.
Kane grunted when he sat down too hard on his side of the table. He grimaced in pain before he carefully composed his face again.
“Did you fight in the war?” she asked nonchalantly, lifting her menu.
“Yep.”
“Is that where you got hurt?”
Kane inhaled deeply and rested his elbows on the table, clenched his hands. “Do you ever have a little voice in your head that tells you asking certain questions might not be appropriate?”
“Like one of them angels on my shoulder?”
“Yeah.”
“Nope.”
He stared at her for a full three seconds before his lips curved up into a smile. He fingered the corner of the menu and said, “Yeah. That’s one of the places I got hurt.”
“There was more than one?” Shit, one was enough, especially if it was war. That was a big one. Some of the shifters in Damon’s Mountains had fought, and they came back with scars on their insides and their outsides.
But Kane didn’t answer her question and instead asked one of his own. “Why didn’t you ever leave Damon’s Mountains?”
“Because I don’t feel safe anywhere else.” Rowan pursed her lips and dipped her gaze to the appetizers. She hadn’t meant to admit that. Not to Kane. He already thought she was weak. “Why do you wear the sunglasses?”
“Because I want to.”
“But I saw your face. You don’t have scars or anything. You look…” Perfect. “I like the way you look without them.”
<
br /> The waitress showed up, looking harried and tired. They ordered drinks and burger baskets. And when a pair of cherry cokes sat in front of them, Kane asked something she hadn’t been prepared for.
“What are you doing here, Rowan?” His tone was so deadly serious she nearly choked on the bubbles in her drink.
She couldn’t tell him she was here to protect the Bloodrunners because everyone knew about the shifter crews. Harper’s crew had been in the news several times, and there was always a big buzz when a new crew began registering to the public. If Rowan admitted that Harper Keller, alpha of the Bloodrunners, was pregnant, all hell would break lose. She couldn’t shift as long as she carried the child or the baby wouldn’t make it. Harper was grounded, no flight, no fire, until her little baby boy sucked his first breath of air. The Bloodrunners were down a badass dragon, and they had enemies. Werewolves, vampires, ravens, and God knew who else would come out of the woodwork to try to snuff out the growing crew if they found out Harper couldn’t defend them.
Kane was staring at her, waiting on her answer, and he didn’t seem the type to let shit slide. She couldn’t wiggle out of this one. He was human and wouldn’t be able to hear a lie, but for some reason, the thought of lying to him made Rowan feel sick to her stomach and lose her appetite.
No, she couldn’t tell him the whole truth, but she could give him part of it.
“I’m headed to Nantahala to join the Bloodrunner Crew.”
One dark eyebrow arched up slowly. “To register with them?”
“No. I’m a Gray Back, through and through.” She hadn’t even considered registering to another crew.
“But you’re dominant.”
Rowan snorted and sucked a long sip of her soda. “Have you met me? I had a panic attack on a plane. I’m not dominant.”
Kane angled his head like a curious animal. God, she wished she could see his eyes right now. The sunglasses were really starting to bother her. It forced distance between them, and it also put her at a disadvantage. She couldn’t get a read on his face, but he could see every emotion flitter across hers. She had a terrible poker face.
“Your human side isn’t dominant, but I’d bet everything I own your dragon does just fine.”
