Touch of a Dragon

by Kim Knox

  I stared up at the slow roll of numbers on the monitor over the doors. It’d already scrolled into double figures. How far down were we going? I winced. How deep was this place?

  With a thunk, the lift stopped. Floor eighteen. The doors slid back with a metallic whine and a long, brightly light tunnel stretched out before me, blank grey doors breaking into its white walls at regular intervals. The silent air smelled dry, stale. My heart squeezed. This did not look promising.

  Clair pushed past me and strode down the corridor. Her heels clacked against the rough metal flooring. The officer with the weapon in my back pushed me forward, but Blake slid his hand over my spine, blocking the muzzle of the gun from digging into my flesh.

  I shrugged myself free, pushing ahead of him into the long corridor. I didn’t need his help. And I was ignoring that burn under my skin, the imprint of Blake’s hand searing though the heavy layers of my clothes. I counted breaths, waiting for the flare of intense heat heralding the return of the wraith.

  But…nothing. I ran a trembling hand through my drying hair. It was a relief. There was no telling how I would react to so much testosterone surrounding me right then.

  “Stay focused.” Blake’s growl over my ear did little to help with that.

  “Isn’t your job over now?” I waved my arm down the bright corridor. Clair had stopped at a blank door, one that matched all the others. “I have been delivered.”

  “Oh, this is far from over, Leona.” A little shiver rippled over my skin at his words, the promise lurking in his voice, the promise of one last fuck from him. I ignored the pulse of excitement and regret. He glared up at the low curve of the ceiling, and colour slashed his cheeks. “I didn’t make you ready for this.”

  “Then what the hell—”

  Blake let out a slow breath. “It’s become a modern necessity. One you don’t need.”

  “So you say,” Clair said, not breaking her stare from the opaque panel built into the door frame. It glowed briefly.

  “I have more skill than your clunking machines. Leona is free of tech.”

  “Again, so you say.” Clair looked up, her pale eyes cold. “We would rather not chance our future on something you say, Mr Blake.”

  The door slid back with a soft whoosh. Narrow stairs wound downward, surrounding a bright central core. A circular laboratory squatted at the bottom, technicians in grey lab- suits scuttling from terminal to terminal. The councillor led the way down, her heels clacking against the metal.

  I followed, my hand tight around the cold rail. Free of tech. The words ran uneasily under my skin. Something tugged at my mind. The charged air stabbed at me, harsh and grating, pushing out other more tenuous thoughts and rubbing coarse against my skin. My pulse rate jumped. So whatever it was, it wouldn’t be a nice surprise.

  “Councillor Musgrove.”

  A thin man in a padded lab-suit strode toward them, pulling off a glove. Clair took his hand. He held it for too long, and her expression hardened. She yanked her fingers free. The technician continued to smile, something almost reptilian.

  “Professor Jones.” Clair rubbed her hands together with a dry scraping sound. “I have a candidate for you.”

  “Ah, one of Samuel Blake’s little breed.” The thin smile made my skin twitch. “Finally, in the flesh.” His hard gaze fixed on me. I froze as a pale hand followed the line of my hair, curling a still-damp strand around his bony finger. “Leona Munro. With your history, who would have thought it?”

  I pulled my hair free from his finger and tucked the strand behind my ear. “Does anyone not know me?”

  “I’ve watched you for a long time.” Professor Jones widened his reptilian smile.

  “That doesn’t make me feel any better.” I stepped back from him and from the gleam of too sharp an interest in his eyes. “But I’ll ask you. What am I here for?”

  Professor Jones turned away. “To prove your candidacy, we must ensure that you are free of all the conveniences of modern life.”

  “And what exactly does that mean?”

  “We’ve kept you device free. Conditioned you with a severe dislike of technology. Now I have to see if you’ve managed a few illegal implants.” He turned back from the console, his thin, ungloved hand resting on a tech’s shoulder. “We have to purge you.”

  The fury at their interference fell away.

  “Purge me?”

  I backed away, backed into the solid wall of muscle that was Blake. His hand slid over my hip, and I hated the sudden rush of relief running up through my body. I took an even breath. Purging? They were all crazy.

  “Mr Blake here”—Jones waved his hand at the silent man standing behind me—“has always bemoaned the toxicity of the lifestyle we enjoy.” He gave me a snake-thin smile and I held down a natural shudder. “I, on the other hand, have no problems binding my body to our modern world.”

  I crushed the run of lurid images his deliberate words conjured. “I’m sure.” My gaze flicked up to Blake. “But that still tells me nothing.”

  “You must be free of all implants, all devices connecting you to South Bank society.” Blake’s hand on my hip slid into slow, soothing strokes. The wraith stirred under his touch, a flickering curve of fire that almost felt like the thing purred within me.

  It was a distraction, but I pulled my mind away from his addictive touch. “I have never—”

  Blake’s softly whispered “I know” brushed against my ear, and I fought to keep my eyes open. I was in a room full of people who planned to do who knew what to me, but the warmth of his breath against my skin negated every fear. I wanted to turn to find the connection that simmered between us. Strengthen it. Make it shine. Against all my better judgment, my instincts screamed that being with Blake was right.

  “As Professor Jones said, we limited your exposure.” Councillor Musgrove’s brisk voice cut through Blake’s hold on me. Panic started to well again. “Now all discussion stops. Ms Munro needs to change.” She waved a hand at Blake. “If you would be so kind?”

  His hand closed around my arm. “I don’t agree with it, but...”

  So much for feeling safe with Blake, for him feeling right. My own thoughts mocked me. Was that the push of his magic twisting me? I had to recognise that I was just a commodity to these crazy people. “I know what purging is.” My laugh was bitter. “I should’ve taken the river option. Though thinking about it, that wasn’t open to me either. Was it?”

  We crossed the laboratory and Blake waved his hand over a clear stretch of grey panel. The door shot back, revealing a small, starkly lit room beyond. His face grim, he pulled me inside and the door reappeared behind him. “Get changed into that.” He pointed to a rack of skins filling one wall.

  “You know what a purge is, don't you?”

  Blake blocked the doorway. “As they’ve told you, I’ve been around awhile.”

  So no sympathy from him, then. I unwound my scarf and tugged at my coat. Fear and fury had my fingers numb, sliding over the smooth buttons. I turned that anger onto Blake because hell, he deserved it. The councillor and her pet mad scientist were at least up-front in their treatment. Blake enjoyed playing his games with me. “Turn around,” I muttered. I’d be damned if I got naked in front of him.

  Again. The word whispered through my thoughts.

  “Nothing I haven’t seen.” A ghost of a smile lifted his lips, and I hated the flare of wraith-inspired need. “And fucked.”

  My chest kicked at that reminder. “An aberration.”

  “Of course. All three times.” He turned and presented me with his back. “Anyone would have satisfied you.”

  Was that a hint of censure, of bitterness in his voice? I shut my eyes and willed myself to ignore him. I pulled my sweater over my head and dropped it on the bench. Cool air prickled my bared skin, and with quick fingers, I tugged down my trousers. I grabbed the first suit and stepped into the slippery stuff. The cold bonded gel glued itself to my feet and calves in a swift rush.

&n
bsp; It started to crawl upward.

  I held down the rush of bile to my mouth.

  “You all right?” Blake’s head turned, but not enough to witness my nakedness.

  The skin sucked to my stomach and wrapped around my arms. I fought my revulsion as it crept into the webs of my fingers and had to will my breathing into a calm, even rhythm. The crawl of synthetic tech spread higher, faster, a rush of cold liquid skin over my chin and skull and ears. It became harder to pull in air as panic had my breaths short and my head spinning. Sweat soaked me.

  “Leona?”

  Blindly, my skin-bound fingers grabbed at Blake’s offered hand, gripped it tight, and his touch forced my fear to ease.

  Breathing. I was breathing, not panicking.

  The skin surged over my face.

  Eyes, nose, lips, teeth, tongue.

  I gagged, dragging more of the semi-liquid deep into my throat. My choked gasps echoed hollow in my ears. Pain ballooned behind my eyes. My heartbeat jumped, my lungs straining for air. Blake held me tight, murmuring words I couldn’t understand. The heat of his palm on my spine distracted me in the unending seconds.

  The skin burst.

  Air rushed down my throat. I sagged. Blake’s strong arms held me up, and I pressed my skin-covered face to his chest. His body scent, the cool, soothing smell of the open ocean, wrapped around me, and the wild pounding of my heart eased. He calmed me. I had no idea why or how, and I wanted to hate it. But in that moment, I couldn’t. The man—or whatever he was—had my emotions in turmoil.

  I rubbed my palm over my eye, but gel only rubbed at gel. The thin layer had absorbed my tears. “Is it really worth this?” The tech shrouding my flesh thickened and distorted my words. I closed my eyes, and not even Blake’s easing presence could calm my next thought. “And what’s to come."

  He stroked a hand over my head, my hair now glued to my skull. “You will be worth it.”

  I stared up at him, reading nothing in his dark gaze. “Have you always been so cryptic?”

  His mouth twitched. “I’ve had time to work on it.”

  I pulled back from his hold. His warm touch delayed on my jaw, bleeding heat through the synthetics. My gelled fingers touched his, and my gut ached. I missed the contact of my real skin against his. “I need to get this over with.”

  “Yes.” Blake stood away from the door, letting out a heavy breath. It shot back, and he lifted an eyebrow. “We both do.”

  Chapter Eleven

  I didn’t know what to do with my hands. After a brief time knotting them in front of me, I settled for crossing my arms. Tight.

  The surrounding air had that familiar charge of advanced and aggravating tech. It prickled the hair on the back of my neck and made my skin itch. Skin I couldn’t bloody scratch.

  I took a steadying breath and shifted my feet over the cold metal of the purging chamber. Blake watched me. The thick glass encircling me distorted him, but still his harsh, dark gaze pierced mine. Anger burned through him. I could taste it, raw and bitter in my mouth. Suddenly he was angry? He’d stood by and raised only minor objections to this procedure—

  “We know you aren’t a criminal we wish to punish by removal of tech privileges, Ms Munro. However, this is the only way we have of taking away said tech.” The councillor’s voice filled the chamber, bursting with static. “Are you ready?”

  “I doubt it.”

  Heat surged against my bare soles. Stasis clamped my lower body into place. My nails curled into my palms, and I fought to ignore the buildup of pain. What the hell was I doing? Why had I gone in to work that morning? Rolling over and ignoring the alarm, that had been the first thought of the day. I should’ve run with it.

  Fire burned over my calf muscles, the sweep of sharp light rising inexorably.

  Not that staying in bed would have made any difference. They’d been tracking me for years. I focused on Blake’s stern face. He’d lived for centuries, had plans even the mad scientists could only guess at. He was ancient and thick with magic, yet looked not much older than me. And I was not going to think about how insane that was.

  Fire curled around my thighs in a fierce lash of pain. I crushed my eyes shut. At least it was better than the wraith fire. A smile bit through the agony in my flesh. Better to be fighting this than having a gang of drooling techs getting their jollies from watching me orgasm in an isolation chamber.

  “I’d kill them first.”

  The growled words burst through me. It forced my eyes open...but I stared at the man through the thick glass. He hadn’t moved, and his expression still held its usual grim blankness. The familiar touch of his thoughts eased the agony for a single, blissful moment.

  But his thought, his magic couldn’t break the pain, and thought evaporated as the toxic sweep cut across my hips, rising higher. My stomach, ribs, arms, breasts scorched with burning light. I breathed in and breathed out. Slow. Measured. Blowing away the pain. Light enveloped my shoulders, neck, seared the underside of my jaw.

  Panic wanted to swallow me whole. I breathed past it. Only a few more seconds and I would be free. I had no illegal tech in my body, had always hated the whine of it and the way it cut under my skin. Their conditioning? Had they pushed it into my parents and grandparents too? All of them had an almost allergic reaction to implanted technology.

  Oh fuck… Had Blake been overseeing what was effectively a breeding program for centuries?

  “What you are has always been important.”

  Blake’s voice echoed in my head, but I refused to look at him, pushing him and the tearing in my flesh away. But one thought leaked. “You said what, not who. Nice to know you care.”

  The language I didn’t understand seared through my thoughts in a muttered rush. I almost laughed. Blake was swearing at me again.

  The surge of energy rose higher, scouring my chin, my pressed-thin lips, and all further thought scattered. Shit, it hurt. It tore over my nose. I fought to get air into my lungs but drew in only heat and pain.

  I couldn’t breathe, and panic fired over the nightmare of agony ripping through me. It wasn’t fair. I didn’t have any implants. Blake was right. Couldn’t they see that?

  “This always proves the highest area of concentration for illegal tech.”

  I lashed out against Professor Jones’ dispassionate voice, my fists impacting the chamber walls. They didn’t care, none of them. I was simply some animal in a laboratory experiment. Nothing more. What the hell had I ever done to deserve this? Fresh agony lanced through my arms, burning down to my fingertips. Gasping, my head ballooned with pain. My lungs screamed for air.

  The light burned across my eyes. I screamed. And blackness took me.

  A familiar scent threaded itself through my senses. The taste of skin and heat and the sea lapped warm against my tongue. I shifted my mouth, letting my lips find more skin, discovering a pulse other than my own. He tasted incredible. I groaned.

  “Leona...”

  His voice. Blake.

  My tongue tip traced a slow pattern over his warm flesh, unable to deny myself more of him. I needed him buried inside of me, buried deep. And that was right. Wanted.

  The now familiar hot stirrings of the wraith down across my belly willed me to pressed open-mouthed kisses over his throat. The heavy pulse of need throbbed, and I wanted nothing more than to find his mouth and a nice flat wall and repeat what we’d found in the alley. Our connection began there, the start of our binding...

  Blake muttered something under his breath, and his large hands tightened around my ribs and thigh. For a flicker of a second, I welcomed his touch. My tongue stopped. He was carrying me? Memory of the purification chamber erupted. Adrenaline hit me, and my arms and legs thrashed.

  “Leona...”

  The soft, almost gentle use of my name calmed my sudden panic. I relaxed, and his arms tightened around me. But then I remembered it was Samuel Blake. The man who had betrayed my trust. “Put me down. Right now.”

  “So no more
necking?”

  “Don't even go there.”

  “Spoilsport.”

  Blake let me slide out of his hold. My bare feet hit cold metal, and despite the skin, I shivered. I stared around the small, metal-lined room. It was similar to the one I’d changed in, but there was no rack of unused skins. There was also nothing for me to change into.

  “Here.” Blake shrugged out of his jacket and handed it to me.

  A knot tightened in my chest. I took the jacket. “Thank you.”

  His scent, his warmth surrounded me. I dropped onto the metal bench and unwillingly hugged the coat over my breasts. This wasn’t what I needed right now. I could only be grateful that the wraith sat sated in my body. The sharp scent of the sea pricked my skin, twisting…comfort, but I took a deep breath and forced myself to be angry. “So did I pass your test?”

  “Their test. And yes, you did.”

  Blake sat on the opposite bench and picked at fluff on his immaculate trousers. The silence of the room pressed against the tech still shrouding me skin. Heavy. Dull. And it seemed that Blake was happy to stay quiet, but questions bubbled up through me.

  “So how old are you, Samuel Blake?”

  He huffed out a breath. “Old.”

  “And that’s all you're going to tell me?”

  “Yes.” A smile quirked his mouth, and he leant back against the smooth metal wall. “You should know not to ask that, Leona.”

  I ground my teeth together, tensing the muscles in my jaw. “Yes, stupid me.” Without thought, I hugged the jacket to my body and breathed in the intoxicating scent too close to my skin. Bad idea. “So...what happens now?”

  His head tilted up, and he stared at the low curve of the softly lit ceiling. “Now? What do you think we should do?”

  I was calm. I was. I was not going to ask the annoying man any more questions because I knew what he’d promised. I didn’t want to go there, fall into the last time we would ever have sex. I pressed my lips together. It was as though I was losing more than that, which felt a little crazy, as I’d only known him for a few hours. I closed my eyes. “I’m not saying anything.”