City of Dragons: Of Flesh and Blood

by Wilder, Adrienne

  “Crystal.”

  Heikman made an angry sound. “You better hope this works, wyrm. My only other option is to go right to the source.”

  Farley hit the man with a vicious glare but he’d already turned away, busy with his clothes. Right then and there all Farley’s instincts barreled forward, and when it came to protecting Haley self-preservation wasn’t a part of the picture. Forget just getting out of here. Farley decided right then he was just going to kill the fucker.

  Heikman pointed to the edge of the bed. “Sit there.”

  Feeling oddly empowered, Farley moved across the small space with liquid grace which was all Kin. When he turned to loosen his pants Heikman said, “That won’t be necessary. It won’t go that far.”

  Farley arched an eyebrow. “You sure about that?”

  “I feed only.” The whipping of fabric resumed.

  Yeah, we’ll just have to see about that. Farley turned away so the Lesser-Bred wouldn’t see the small nasty smile curl on his lips. Rolling his shoulders and flexing his back, Farley made a show of melting into place. He dropped his head down and to the side so he could watch Heikman in his peripheral. The Lesser-Bred stripped down to his boxers and undershirt which did nothing to hide the massive blanket of color covering his body from the shoulder down. Even in the low light the iridescent Stain glowed, sliding under the surface of his skin like scales trying to rise.

  Hunger and need rolled out of Heikman in waves.

  Farley gave the SOB five minutes tops.

  Leaning back on his elbows, Farley relaxed, eating up the metaphysical heat. He knew exactly what kind of reaction his body would have and the effect on his scent it would cause. Farley’s ability to heighten his taste was something he’d been born with, and four centuries had given him time to hone it into a deadly art. Just enough and he could have a Male eating out of his hand, too much and he could wind him out like a junkie on a bummer trip. In the Dens, Farley was always out matched by brute strength, but when it came to manipulating the need, the chances were he’d win.

  Farley stroked his hand across his stomach, raising the heat in his flesh and flaring his scent. The Lesser-Bred was starved enough that playing this game was dangerous, but it was imperative he get as much flavor into Heikman as possible. Because when it came to Kin, scent and taste were the pull cords of control.

  The Lesser-Bred growled and Farley saw his nostrils flare. His mouth opened and he hissed, flashing nasty serrated teeth.

  Yeah, that was gonna hurt.

  Heikman turned and Farley put his eyes forward. Behind him the bed shifted. A moment later fingers dug into Farley’s shoulder. He heard a long slow intake of air and then a loud swallow.

  That’s right asshole, drink it down.

  “Does feeding from a Female make you smell like this?” Heikman sounded like someone had taken a sander to his vocal cords.

  “No.” Which was true, feeding from Haley had just enhanced Farley’s scent, and now instead of just addictive Farley had the potential to be a hot load.

  The hand on his shoulder tightened and Farley stretched out his legs a little, bracing himself for the bite. Heikman trembled.

  Stupid fuck was still fighting it, and Kin couldn’t fight the need. It was better just go with it and hang on for the ride. Fine with Farley though. It made his goal all that much easier. Those who fought the longest always fell the hardest.

  “Tilt your head.” Heikman’s voice was almost gone. Farley did. Heikman’s jaw cracked, and there was a moment of warm breath, then the pain of parting flesh.

  And just like always Farley’s body reacted to being consumed by going zero to oh-fuck-yes in three point six seconds. His testicles became two hard rocks, a right nice addition to the rest of the collection between his legs which stood the front of his trousers up like a pup tent.

  Farley’s scent flared, flooding his blood with taste, and Heikman snarled, driving his teeth deeper, working his grip and tearing the flesh. Blood welled, running in rivulets down Farley’s chest and soaking the hem of his trousers. He opened his mouth to pant and his toes curled into the carpet.

  Heikman became a wall against Farley’s back as he slung his head, ripping the wound wider. Body aching and absolutely lit, Farley didn’t hold back. His scent became as thick as a Savannah summer.

  The earthquake started in Farley’s legs as the ache in his cock became unbearable. Heikman’s shoulders heaved with the effort to draw blood from the wound, and the sensation made Farley flutter his eyes and groan.

  Oh, fuck it. Unlike Heikman, Farley had no desire to resist the urges his body made. And if the Lesser-Bred was too much of a prude to follow his instincts Farley would do it himself.

  Not like it would be the first time.

  With a trembling hand Farley got the tie loose enough to shove his hand down the front. When he grabbed himself, he yelped, touch causing as much pain as relief.

  Farley forced himself to go slow, since too much too fast would probably set the collar off. Yeah, how would that be for a climactic ending? He almost laughed but lost the sound to his own desperate cries.

  At his shoulder, Heikman made equally frantic noises as he undulated against his back and shoved his bite deeper. When the Lesser-Bred tore loose a mouthful of deep muscle Farley came. Wet heat ran down the inside of his thighs, soaking his pants. He kept going because Heikman kept feeding. Another tear of muscle brought Farley again.

  The bastard was making a mess of Farley’s shoulder and back. And fuck him, it felt good, even when Heikman bit to the bone.

  Desperate sounds boiled from the Lesser-Bred’s throat, his feeding becoming more frantic and vicious; his control sliding completely away. Farley sneered. Maybe with any luck he would fry Heikman’s system right out of the gate. Farley arched into his grip, riding the pain, rolling it into pleasure, pouring all the heat of his metaphysics into cranking out taste.

  Ichor covered Farley’s chest and ran in lines down his arms, soaking the bed and the floor. The burn of healing flowed with the burn of the feed.

  Another orgasm struck and at first Farley thought he’d kicked himself onto the floor, but when the room stopped spinning and he could breathe again, he realized it was the mattress he was kissing and not Berber. His hand was trapped around his cock and crushed into place by the weight at his back. In one hard yank the back of his trousers were ripped free.

  A palm shoved the back of Farley’s head and at the same moment Heikman’s fangs slammed into his back, cracking his scapula as he took him. Farley screamed a string of curses and struggled to raise his head. He needed air, but Heikman kept shoving his face back into the comforter. If he didn’t do something soon Heikman was going to be fucking a corpse.

  Wouldn’t that just put a crimp in his day?

  Desperate, Farley had no choice but to break rule number one. “Let me breathe, asshole…”

  And by some fucking miracle the guy moved his hand off the back of his head. Farley turned his face to the side and sucked air like a drowning man.

  At his back, Heikman barked once, twice, and his body jerked with release so violent it left him trembling.

  Boy oh boy, Farley could just imagine the look of confusion on Heikman’s face. Cause sex had definitely not been in the program.

  Farley watched from under half-lidded eyes as Heikman stepped back and stumbled while he tried to pull his boxers back up. On his way across the room he tilted too far to the left and fell. Heikman let loose with a juicy curse but he didn’t get up.

  Farley was still grinning when his legs gave out and he spilled onto the floor.

  Chapter 48

  Orin’s eyes were black. Not the black of Alchemist’s with their flashes of telepathic thought, but dead black. Endless. Bottomless. Eternal. And Haley knew this was no longer Orin. It was still his body, his face, but the thing behind his eyes belonged to a Queen long dead.

  As much as she hated to admit it, she needed Medan.

  The sensation of sc
ales sliding under Haley’s skin brought her a kind of comfort she never thought would exist. Medan’s anger flared but it didn’t hold the potential for fear. This anger had purpose and through it, Haley could feel the Queen’s need to protect her own.

  “Fool.” And Haley knew she was talking about Rehbek’ah.

  In front of her, Orin’s mouth dropped and his jaw cracked wide. His eyes blinked and his nostrils flared.

  Medan said, “Listen carefully, Child. Time is short. You must mark him.”

  It was a solution Haley didn’t expect. One that she knew Orin would never agree to. “What? Why can’t I just use Temporal?”

  “Because the Violence will not respond to it. This is a Queen’s RHage. That’s why it rose. The temporal formed the Female ties it needed to get out. There is nothing Male left to be held by it.”

  Orin’ s tongue flicked out, split at the ends, curling and tasting the scents in the air. His eyes shifted to Haley then to Deshi.

  Medan growled. “It’s hungry. It will want to feed and then it will want to destroy.” Behind Haley, Deshi moved back. “Be still, little Prince.” He froze. “Do this, Haley. Mark Orin or Deshi will die and then so will you.”

  “And marking Orin will do what?”

  “You have to take the RHage to stop it and a mark is the only way to do that now.” Haley shook her head and Medan hissed. “You have no choice, Child!”

  “I can’t do that to him.”

  “Then I will kill him instead.” Haley felt her chelae extend and her body tense.

  “No! You promised you wouldn’t possess me like this!”

  “I promised I would not come to you against your will and I have not.”

  Before Haley could argue, Orin shot across the room, knocking Deshi to the ground. The Prince screamed as Orin proceeded to shred his back. Not feeding. Destroying. Violence.

  No-no-no-no!

  Haley charged, hitting Orin and taking him into a roll across the floor. She drove her chelae into his ribs and smashed him into the wall. Plaster cracked and rained down like snow. Flesh tore in her hands as Orin wrenched himself free to turn on her. Teeth sank into Haley’s shoulder. Bone cracked and split. Claws penetrated her hips, tearing a scream from her throat.

  Heat rolled through Haley’s chest. Scales slid under her skin. Medan’s strength flowed down her arms and Haley threw Orin off, sending him tumbling through the air. The kitchen table exploded in a hail of splinters when he landed on it. Haley got to her feet and went to Deshi.

  “Are you okay?”

  He didn’t even have time to answer before Orin was heading right for them. Haley met him head on, her chelae punching into his ribs and through his lungs, and Orin’s going right through her shoulders. Haley’s metaphysical energy burned, throwing power into her legs and arms. Human muscles screamed and ripped at the same time they burned and healed.

  But Orin was stronger, faster. He yanked, taking Haley back, and slammed her to the floor. His hands twisted, snapping her collar bone.

  Deep in Haley’s skull Medan roared, and right behind the pain flowed the burn of a fire lung. “Do it now, Child, or I will kill him.”

  Haley didn’t want to. God of Man, she didn’t want to take away who Orin was. She stared hard into those merciless depths which were his eyes and found nothing. Orin was already lost. Under her hands she felt his skin roll and his muscles realign.

  He was going to Shift.

  Haley pulled everything she had, forcing her body to heal, and at the same time drew on her true form. The joints in her arms popped and muscles thickened, scales rose and she shoved Orin away, blowing out the still Human muscles in her back and splitting the skin. Orin went over and she slammed her jaws into his shoulder, punching through his flesh and into bone. Wasting no time, she pressed her tongue into the roof of her mouth and dumped her scent.

  Haley knew Orin was shredding her back and sides in a frenzy of violence, but she didn’t feel the pain. Which mean Medan was taking it for her so she wouldn’t lose her grip. Her body heaved as she worked the bite, shoving the pheromone deep, pumping it into his blood. Under her Orin screamed and jackknifed towards the ceiling as the metaphysical lines between them formed, tightened, and her pain and fear became his.

  One more push of scent and she felt his temp spike. There was no urge to tear out Orin’s throat like there had been with Farley. Orin was old, strong. Her instincts said this was a Male of worth. Something to keep.

  To own.

  Orin went slack. With the panic and urgency gone Haley’s need flared as she worked the bite. Her Human-instilled ethics pleaded with her to stop but her Female instincts were in control. She pulled Orin closer when he stirred. His hands came up and over her shoulders and small needy sounds bubbled out of his throat. Haley popped her bite free and buried her face into his neck. His arms tightened around her and she could feel his arousal pushing against her stomach.

  Haley expected the RHage infecting Orin to be something Violent and intrusive but instead it came across the ties like a warm heat sliding into her chest, filling her with a low burn. The sense of power was unmistakable.

  And for some strange reason it felt like it was right where it belonged.

  Chapter 49

  With a hiss Orin rolled Haley over. The kiss he landed against her mouth was clumsy at best. But he didn’t care. It got him what he wanted, what he needed--her scent, her taste. His teeth clipped her lips and he caressed the cuts with his tongue. Haley arched under him, and the raw metaphysical lines between them let him feel everything.

  Words came out of Haley’s mouth but Orin couldn’t understand them. The ringing in his head was so loud he felt like one giant bell. But he couldn’t shake the distinct feeling of something missing, something obtrusive, dangerous, and painful. The RHage. Orin sucked in a breath and it sounded almost like a sob. Gone. It was gone. Which meant Haley had Rolled him. Only if that was the case, why wasn’t he spent? He blinked, trying to remember what happened, how they had gotten on the floor covered in blood, clothes torn, bodies black and blue with bruises.

  Then he felt it, the unmistakable hum of the connection between a Female and her Marked. Hell, Orin had a century of personal experience with the sensation. He told himself he was wrong, then the dull ache in his shoulder drove the truth home.

  God of Man, what had she done?

  Orin blinked and in a rush it all came back to him. He shoved Haley away and scurried back until he hit the wall.

  Rage tore out of his chest and he screamed. “God of Man, what have you done, Haley?” Orin pawed at the ugly mar of flesh on his shoulder. “What have you done to me!” He clenched his eyes shut and balled his hands into fists, trying his best to regain control.

  Orin tried shoving everything down, hiding it, suffocating it, but it wouldn’t leave. He could feel Haley. Inside him, over him, filling him up with a tidal wave of emotion. The Violence was gone, replaced by her, every piece of her inside him and there was no locking it down, no hiding it away.

  Haley crawled closer to him. “I’m sorry, it was the only way.”

  Orin’s eyes peeled wide. “This wasn’t…a part…of….it,” he spat from between clenched teeth.

  “I had to, Orin. You were going to kill us.” Haley reached for him and Orin lashed out, catching her in the side of the head. She went to the side and Orin lunged for her throat.

  He could hear Deshi yelling at him to stop, but Orin was powerless as he followed Haley to the floor, pinning her under him. He’d trusted her. He’d believed she was different. And now she had infected him. He squeezed her throat but even when her windpipe folded under his grip she didn’t fight. Fear commanded Orin to kill her to save himself from what he would become. No control, no self thought, nothing that was his, just an extension of her.

  But no matter how much he wanted to hate Haley in that moment, to hurt her, he couldn’t. The metaphysical lines humming between them tightened and he could feel everything, her shame, her regret, h
er fear… Her thoughts were a crash and ebb of emotional tide he had never experienced. A Human emotional grid. The thing Orin had envied became a horrible reality.

  The onslaught of it all made the room tilt.

  Hands touched his face and Orin tried not to look at her. Looking at Haley made it worse. Holy shit, touching her… Her scent covered Orin’s tongue and palate.

  He had to get out of here!

  Orin threw himself off and tried to run but he was too tired, too weak. With his body stripped of Serena’s RHage he was suddenly drained like his battery had been pulled. He staggered on unsure legs, hit the wall and cracked his head on the doorway. Spitting juicy curses, Orin struggled to get his feet under him. He looked up and saw Haley approaching, looking concerned.

  He pointed a finger at her, “Stay the fuck away from me.” She surprised him by stopping.

  Clothes. He needed clothes ‘cause he was going outside. Because in here he was drowning. There was too much in his head. Too much sloshing around inside his skull.

  After another clumsy attempt to stand Orin made it into the bedroom, where he threw the gaudy trunk thing Deshi had brought up into the floor, making it vomit up all his fancy-smancy clothes he was so damn proud of. Orin grabbed a shirt. He shoved it on, not bothering with the buttons. On the end of the bed was Deshi’s coat. He took that too.

  Asshole was rich, he could buy another one. He turned to leave but Haley stood in the door.

  “Get out of my way.”

  “Orin...”

  “GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY WAY!” She still didn’t move so he hit her. A good one, right in the mouth. It busted her bottom lip wide open and spun her onto the floor. Every instinct in Orin cringed for such a vile act against a Female, but he told his instincts to shut the hell up. He’d stood by while Medan ripped Serena’s throat out. And he had belonged to her. As far as he was concerned his fist in Haley’s face was nothing but a goddamned love tap.

  Orin lurched forward. In his attempt to get away, he tripped over one of Haley’s legs and hit the floor. To add insult to injury he mashed his own nuts on impact.