Cage Me_A Curvy Mermaid and a Dragon Shifter Romance

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Cage Me_A Curvy Mermaid and a Dragon Shifter Romance Page 4

by Aidy Award


  Cage took care of his Wyvern business and left for the airfield before dusk. On his way, felt a pull toward one of his lairs. Cage rarely visited his this one even though it was the closest, partly because he preferred to have most of his treasure right out in the open.

  Seven Pines was filled with antiquities and high-end modern design. He also had some stashed in a monastery high in the mountains of Nepal, where the air was so thin that it felt like he was in the sky. But, like any smart wyvern he had his hoard divided into several locations just in case any of them were compromised. That didn't happen very often, but Jacob's lair under his villa in the Czech Republic had been discovered by demon dragons not that long ago.

  Cage drove into the Danish countryside until he reached a hilly area. He hated being underground so the cave hidden in the brush at the top of the hill was a good compromise. He'd spent years here as a child, secreting away his favorite treasures and carving out the rock to let slivers of sunshine into the cave. This had been his secret hideout, the place he went to practice shifting into his dragon form as a youngling. There was an old magic in these hills that had drawn him to it and helped him master his shifting skills.

  It was almost uncomfortable to come here now knowing that he had lost the majority of that hard work, but something had him here and his gut told him to listen. Perhaps there was armor or a weapon hidden in this lair that might be able to help him survive on this quest.

  He hiked up into the hills for a good hour, feeling the wards that had been placed to deter humans and other paranormal beings alike from finding his cave.

  To him they were nothing more than little zips of electricity, but to anyone snooping they would get a sense of dread or fear from being here. The closer he got, the more the magic swelled. Oh yeah, whatever was pulling him really wanted to make sure he didn't leave without finding it.

  Cage stepped through a layer of creeping vines that covered the cave entrance and into the darkness. He called upon the light of the sun and a glowing orb formed in his hand and lit his way. He walked past suits of armor, chests filled with gold, and ancient weapons that wouldn't do him any good if he came face-to-face with the Black Dragon, like swords. It didn't take him long to find what had been calling to him. Tucked back onto a natural shelf along the cave wall a golden hand mirror glowed in the darkness.

  He vaguely remembered being attracted to the object. It was very old and the handle was decorated in jewels and carvings of scales that rippled as he touched it. He’d always imagined it had been a present from a dragon to his mate.

  Great.

  What was he supposed to do with a mirror?

  For a fraction of a second, he thought he saw a face in the reflection that was not his own. It was gone before he could blink.

  Okay, fine. Maybe the universe was looking out for him by making sure he had a gift for Azynsa.

  Cage wrapped the mirror in a scrap from an old tapestry and pocketed it. It felt warm against his thigh.

  He returned to his car and raced to the small private airfield, wanting to get in the air as soon as possible.

  This was no average airport. The hangers were filled with vintage airplanes, mostly from World War II. The shack that served as the radio tower was filled with vintage flyers to. Mostly veterans of the past few wars.

  Cage liked to flaunt his money, but he also used it for good causes. The majority of the men who hung around here had been severely injured in the line of duty and were forced to give up flying for their countries.

  Cage started a little organization to allow these vets to fly. He understood their need to be in the air more now than ever before.

  His father had balked when he’d first wanted gold dragons to learn to fly airplanes when they began to appear at the beginning of the twentieth century.

  He’d realized humans were in the air to stay and defied his father by joining up with the RAF during the second world war. His compatriots had treated him like a young whipper-snapper, or so they’d called him. To them he was only about eighteen back then, even though at the start of the war he’d been exactly one-hundred years old.

  They’d given him his due when they saw how naturally he commanded his plane through the air. He’d taken to airplanes like a duck in the sky.

  Since then, a handful of other gold dragons of his generation had become pilots in every military with flyers in the world. The ones who’d served their time rotated through on assignment to staff this place and make sure the planes and the pilots got in and out of the air safely.

  Cage had a lot of other charities he supported, but this was the one he liked hanging out at the most.

  He called ahead and had one of his more modern little turboprops fueled and ready for the flight to Malabo. There was only time for a super quick check in with his dragons who confirmed he was set and ready to go, his plane, the only one cleared for take-off.

  There were lots of vets hanging around today and he hated to ground them but, just today, his flight needed to take priority.

  One of his vets stood next to his plane, examining the props. He still had the build of a warrior, even despite the prosthetic arm. Cage could tell this man had stories he’d like to hear. If he made it back, this guy would be the first one he’d seek out to go flying with. Today, he’d have to ask him to return to the hangar.

  “Excuse me, sir.”

  Sparkling eyes that had so many facets in them Cage couldn’t tell what color they were stared across at him. “I wondered when you’d finally show up. Taking your sweet time getting in the air.”

  “Yeah, I had to stop—” How did this strange old guy know anything about Cage’s itinerary?

  “Son, let me tell you a thing or two about independent women.”

  First, he'd chided Cage about taking his time, now he wanted to chat about women? Just who was this? No ordinary aging veteran, that was for sure.

  “As you stated, sir, I need to get in the air ASAP.”

  “You can bluster and blow, plead and persuade them all you want, but once they've made up their mind about something, well you just better go with it, because there's no changing it. Remember that, will you?”

  A banked power unlike anything Cage had experienced rolled out with every word the man said. He had no idea who this old-timer was, but there was no mistake about the feeling of awe and deference.

  “Okay. I'll keep that in mind.”

  “Take my sugar lips, for instance. She hates it when I call her that, but damn her kisses are so sweet.” The man chuckled and slapped Cage on the shoulder. “She's got a mind that she can do something about the troubles in this world. I thought we'd given that all of years ago. But, here I am smack dab in the middle of her matchmaking schemes.”

  Matchmaking?

  “Now, don't get me wrong, I'd like to see you boys all find your mates. It's a damn shame your fathers couldn't figure out how to combat that spell. Had we known that bitch was going to get involved, we might not have left.”

  A shiver rolled down the back of Cage's neck and all the hairs on his body stood on end.

  “But, we had to protect our girl. You understand that, don't you?” The man looked at Cage and must have seen the shock in his eyes. Or maybe it was the fact that his jaw was hanging open wide enough for a fly, or a dragon, or a dragonfly to swoop in. “No, I can see that you don’t. You will though when your own show up.”

  His own? Really important information was being discussed in this conversation, but damn if Cage had an idea what any of it meant.

  A woman, who looked to be about the same age as the cryptic veteran crossed the tarmac and wrapped her arms around him. She wore flowing white pants with a crisp pleat down the front, an aviator’s jacket that was usually brown with white wool, but hers was pure as snow, and a long flowing silk aviator’s scarf.

  “Did you give him the sword?”

  “I was just getting to that, sugar lips. We had some mate stuff to discuss first.”

  “Oh God. Did
he give you the dozen orgasms speech?”

  Cage’s vision wavered. The two figures before him shimmered like mirages. He thought he shook his head, but he really wasn’t sure.

  “Hey, that’s good advice for any young dragon about to become a mate. You certainly liked it when we first mated.”

  She leaned in and whispered something in the man’s ear that had his eyes going wide.

  “Okay, son. Gotta go. Places to go, people to see, orgasms to be given.” He shoved a shining golden sword into Cage’s hands. “Here’s your blade. Don’t be giving it to any Annunaki, even if they ask for it.”

  The woman took her scarf off and wrapped it around his neck. “We can’t come down and help this time. The Galla demons won’t be fooled again, but Ninshubar will be waiting when you get out.”

  The couple faded right before his eyes and when he blinked, they were gone.

  “Oh, did you tell him about…”

  “Damn, forgot. Be right back.”

  The man popped up in front of Cage again. “Listen, when you’ve got your head between her legs try—”

  “No, not that,” a disembodied voice chastised.

  “Hmm. What? Oh, right. The power is when the two become one.” He disappeared again.

  Cage was left standing next to his plane holding a sword. What the hell was he supposed to do with a sword and a mirror?

  Chapter Four

  Chp 4 – Mirror, Mirror

  S he was covered in dust and dirt, and it would take forever to dig herself back out of her little hidey hole. But, Azy was alive, and so was the little root. More of it was exposed and the droplets of water were bigger now too.

  The demon dragons had screeched and clawed and rumbled through the tunnel next to her but hadn’t found her. She wasn’t entirely sure they’d been after her. They were freaking out about something though.

  Most demon dragons she’d encountered were dumber than the rocks they lived under, and only a few could even speak. She’d heard a few of them say the word “gold” over and over.

  At their cores they were dragons, so maybe they were excited about a cache of gold they’d found or something. Azy had found all kinds of treasures hidden in caves, half abandoned tunnels, and alcoves. It was pretty much all worthless to her, except for the bits of leather armor she’d found. Gold coins and jeweled trinkets didn’t do much good when you’re fighting against demons.

  I dug herself out a peek hole and made sure there were no prying eyes around before she crawled out into the tunnel. She'd hidden much longer than usual and she was freaking starving. She had no idea what demon dragons ate, but it smelled and awful lot like rotting flesh. Fallyn had real food and if and when Azy ever dragged her out of here she would be immediately teaching her about the wonders of late-night drive-through. In the past few years living with the Mami Wata eating fish and other sea life she had to catch herself she had wished for Long John Silvers. Ooh, or the church’s Friday fish fry during Lent. She'd had enough raw fish to last a lifetime, she wouldn't be searching out the sushi place anytime soon.

  Azy crept along the tunnel, headed for one of the small caves Fallyn spent most of her time in. She might not have any desire to leave, but the woman truly did not belong down here. On more than one occasion she had sent or shared her food with Azy. She never appeared in anything but human form, but she wasn't entirely human. She did have a strong sense of what was right and wrong, and that included empathy, unlike any of the other creatures down here. Azy didn't have any idea where she could have learned to have concern for anyone beside herself. It certainly wasn't from the Black Dragon or Ereshkigal, the witch.

  Fallyn wasn't in the first cave Azy searched, nor in the second. There was one more place she could try, but really didn't want to. There was tunnel she saw Fallyn go in and out of a lot, but so did the Black Dragon.

  She had to try. If she didn't the rumble from her stomach would be loud enough to draw demon dragons from miles away. Thus, door number three it was.

  Normally, Azy had to carefully pick her way through the tunnels waiting for groups of demon dragons to move away before she could continue. Today, the caves and tunnels were empty. Eerily empty. Where in the hell – ha ha – was everyone?

  She crept up the forbidden tunnel and heard a thwack thwack thwack up ahead. A faint light shined into the dark. The lacking repeated, always in threes. Azy practically tiptoed trying her best not to be heard. Except, she stumbled on some loose pebbles and skidded on her hands and knees, causing more rocks to tumble around her.

  “Shitting shit bricks,” she whispered and stilled, waiting to see if the thwacker had heard and was coming out to thwack her.

  “What are you doing here, Azynsa?” Fallyn's voice floated from out of the cave.

  “How did you know it was me?”

  “Because, it was you.”

  Right. Azy got up, pulled the pebbles out of her hands and brushed off her leather pants. She glanced into the cave and just stared. No wonder none of the other random treasure hoards she'd stumbled across had any weapons. They were all here. This wasn't a cave, it was an armory. Not one filled with guns and bombs, but with lots and lots of sharp pointy things.

  She imagined a thousand years of knights in shining armor trying to rescue the fair princess, for the Black Dragon to have this many swords, scythes, and – seriously? Yep, that was a pile of maces.

  In the middle of all of these ancient weapons, Fallyn stood with a bucket of daggers next to her. She didn't even glance back at Azy, simply picked up three daggers and threw them in rapid succession toward her target. A form that looked remarkably like the upper torso of a dragon. A red dragon.

  The daggers flew through the air, sticking into the target with extreme precision. One in the heart, and two in the eyeballs. Thwack thwack thwack.

  Jesus.

  “You shouldn't be here. Don't touch any of my things.”

  “By things do you mean all of these knives and swords?”

  “Yes, they’re mine.”

  Azy raised her hands to show she wasn't touching anything. “Why do you have all of this?”

  Fallyn stopped throwing her daggers for a moment. She glanced at Azy and tilted her head a few degrees to the right. “Do your people not hoard things?”

  Oh. That's what this was. Fallyn had been raised by a dragon, so it made sense that she would learn his ways. “I suppose we do. The Mami Wata like their fair share of shiny things.”

  “But, not you?”

  “Not really. What I like to hoard, doesn't do well underwater.” Books had always been her solace. It was strange to think she hadn't read in years. She wondered if there was a chance that Fallyn had any. The woman definitely liked her bling and some old romance novels had those gold raised letters on them. Everywhere she looked, she only saw shiny, spiky metal. Except, in one corner.

  “Are those… Christmas ornaments?”

  Fallyn dropped the dagger she had been about to throw into the bucket and moved swiftly in front of the display. “I don't know what Christmas is. Don't touch these.”

  She tried to block Azy's view with her body. There was no way she could. Ornaments hung from the tips of hundreds of blades that had been reshaped to form a macabre sort of Christmas tree or bush, or crown of thorns. Some looked like they were a hundred years old. Many though, were practically brand-new. She was sure because, directly over Fallyn’s shoulder was a Pokémon ornament.

  “Where did you get all of these?”

  Fallyn glared at her but must have decided she wasn't after trying to steal anything. “I collect them.”

  Azy had never seen Fallyn leave hell, although she had only been down here a few weeks and it was June. Maybe Fallyn only went outside for Christmas shopping and plundering ancient castles while she was at it.

  She wanted to ask more because while she was determined to get Fallyn out of hell, she didn't actually have any idea the route out of here. She had been dragged in through an underground tunnel th
at opened up to a water cave. In all of her secretive explorations she had yet to find that way out.

  The dragons had dug their way out, but she knew at least one of them controlled the earth element. If she could get Fallyn to open up about the Christmas ornaments, maybe she could get her to reveal how to get to the surface.

  “How –” Azy stopped midsentence because Fallyn’s face had gone white, or actually yellow. The shard hanging from Azy's neck decided to turn on like an old-fashioned lightbulb. Its glow filled the room. She grabbed it to try to dampen its light, but the rays shined through her fingers like she was trying to block the sun.

  “No, no, no, no, no.” Fallyn shook her head and wrapped her arms around herself. “Mate, mate, mate, mate.”

  “What's happening, Fallyn?”

  Fallyn grabbed up a sword and pointed it directly at Azy's chest. “He's coming. It's the end of you. Choose now. Are you with him or with me?”

  “Him who? The Black Dragon? Then, I'm with you.” This might finally be it. Something about the light of the shard had put the fear of God into Fallyn. This was the opportunity Azy had been waiting for. “Let's run, run far away, where he can never hurt you again.”

  “Not red. Gold.” Fallyn turned and shoved her way through the ornaments, looking for something. She snatched a particularly shiny one from a blade tip and shoved it at Azy. “Gold.”

  The ornament was a polished piece of glass etched with the words - Baby's First Christmas 1976. It wasn't the words that she saw, it was the face.

  The face of her mate.

  He was somewhere here in hell. And not only surrounded by demon dragons, but that son of the black dragon was attacking too.

  He had a golden sword raised and black dragon next to him bared its fangs. It lunged at her mate and Azy screamed out. “No, only God, no.

  She’d never met this man, and certainly didn't want to have any feelings for him, but the fates had decided otherwise for her. She knew deep in her heart that if he were killed now, right before her eyes, she would not recover from the grief. It would be worse even than when her father had died.

 

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