Dragon Fever: Limited Edition Holiday Romance Boxset

by Serena Meadows

  Drake halted, staring down at the spot where Toombs once was, and observed the cement had also melted, buckled inward from the heat. Tiny flames danced on the blackened spot, but of Toombs, there was nothing left.

  Not even ashes.

  Turning, Drake saw Emily halfway down the block, staring from the shelter of a building. Lifting her bound arms, she wiped sweat from her face, then emerged from her shelter. Her eyes wide, incredulous, she finally managed a grin.

  “Damn, Drake.” She coughed, plucking her shirt from her torso and flapping it in an effort to cool herself. “You weren’t kidding, were you?”

  As usual, sirens wailed in the distance, lights of fire trucks, cops, and maybe an ambulance heading in their direction. No doubt, someone saw flames and reported it. Or perhaps Clem sent them.

  Shifting forms, Drake strode down the sidewalk toward her and ripped the binding tape from her wrists.

  Though they needed to get out of there immediately, he hugged her tightly for a long moment. Drake couldn’t speak; no words came to his mind. All his fears, his worries, and his anger poured into that single embrace.

  He let her go enough to gaze down into her eyes. Reaching up, Emily kissed him. “Now we need to get out of here.”

  “How?”

  She pointed toward Toombs’ car. “Let’s hope he left his keys in it.”

  Taking him by the hand, she led Drake to the car and peered in. “I thought he might,” she said with satisfaction.

  Drake climbed into the passenger seat as Emily ran around to get in behind the wheel. She started the car and drove fast down the street, away from the spot where Toombs died. She held his hand as she drove, passing police cars and fire trucks going the other way. Then she sent Drake a grin.

  “I knew you’d come,” she said. “Toombs kept telling me you’d never find this place, and by the time you did, he’d have his trap set.”

  “And you were the bait.”

  “He kept telling me you were stupid, and that he’d outsmart you again. That once you stepped into the trap, you’d be forced to watch him rape me.”

  “He was wrong, wasn’t he?”

  Emily met his eyes. “I knew you’d get there before us. But, how did you?”

  “A fast flight and an even faster taxi driver. I tipped her a hundred.”

  Emily laughed. “You are incredible, Drake. Absolutely incredible.”

  “But Clem knows what I am now. He was there when I found you missing.”

  “I’m not worried,” she replied. “He’s a good guy. Once we explain everything, he’ll be on board, I promise you.”

  “He did say he knew there was something funky about me.”

  “Funky?” Emily took her eyes off the road to stare at Drake. “He called you funky?”

  “Yeah.”

  She laughed. “We don’t have to admit what happened to Toombs,” she said. “It’s not in his jurisdiction, and if he suspects, I think he’ll know better than to arrest you.”

  “I think he knows what I intended to do,” Drake told her, watching the dark street slide by. “I also think he’ll simply drop everything.”

  “I think you’re right.”

  He looked back at her. “I love you.”

  “What an interesting notion.” Emily grinned. “It so happens I love you, Drake. My dragon.”

  Rescued By My Dragon Champion

  Book V

  By

  Serena Meadows

  Chapter One

  From across the dark and crowded bar, he watched her.

  Clearly intoxicated, she swayed in time to the music while standing at the end of the counter. He thought she was quite attractive, beautiful even, with long creamy legs exposed by the very short shorts she wore.

  A pale blue top that bared her belly and firm arms accented her thick lengths of reddish-gold hair, falling almost to her waist. He knew she owned brilliant green eyes as he had caught a quick glimpse of the color before she closed them to better listen to the music.

  He wondered how she even heard it over the noise of people laughing and talking and the occasional shout as men in leather jackets and black boots played some game that involved a green table and long sticks to poke colored balls with. He had watched the game for a time, trying to understand the gist of it before he caught sight of the girl.

  Kane sighed and took a drink from his beer. While it held a rather bitter flavor at the first gulp, the second and third were rather tasty. He decided he liked it. Serving women, whom he had heard people call “waitresses,” brought food as well as drinks to the tables. One approached him with a smile.

  “Did you decide on what you want yet?” she asked, her eyes traveling over him in a way that made Kane uncomfortable.

  “Um, I think the same thing they’re having there.”

  He gestured toward one table where a couple feasted on food that smelled delicious.

  “Burger and fries are our specialty,” she told him brightly. “Coming right up.”

  Hunger rumbled in his stomach. The clerk at his hotel had recommended this place as one with good food and alcohol, and it was within a few blocks. He had walked the short distance, angry, filled with despair. I know nothing about these people. How am I to live among them?

  Live among them he must, he thought bitterly. Perhaps one day he might find a mate, yet the idea of mating with a human disgusted him. Drinking his beer, he eyed the girl with the red hair. Letting his gaze roam the bar, Kane discovered he was not the only one watching her.

  A group of three burly men at a table, drinking beer from bottles even as he did, spoke amongst themselves while often gesturing toward her. They laughed occasionally, yet Kane got the powerful impression their laughter held more contempt than humor. He didn’t like the odd expressions their faces wore. To him, they appeared crazy or even dangerous.

  The red-haired girl bought another beer, and, her dance finished, sat down on the stool. If she knew the trio of men and Kane watched her, she gave no sign. Kane suspected she had no idea. And knowing what he did know about humans, that was not an ideal way to live.

  Ignorance is bliss, he’d heard once. No, ignorance is dangerous.

  The waitress brought his food, hot and making his stomach grumble, complaining of his constant negligence.

  “Can I get you anything else?”

  “Another beer?”

  She smiled. “Sure thing.”

  The fries burned his tongue, but Kane gobbled them anyway. The meat burger had odd vegetables on it, but as they were tasty enough, he didn’t discard them. The waitress brought him a second bottle along with a suggestive sparkle in her blue eyes. Kane thanked her politely, wondering what she thought she was doing by looking at him like that.

  The girl at the end of the counter finished another beer, and Kane observed the man behind it shaking his head no. Staring intently, Kane realized there was an argument going on and suspected the girl wanted another beer and the man refused it.

  Finishing his meal, he continued to observe the girl pouting, yet now she swayed not in time with the music, but as though she was about to fall off her stool. Her eyes closed, then opened, over and over, as though she were about to fall asleep. He thought he had learned that alcohol caused sleep or unconsciousness when taken in large quantities.

  Kane’s attention caught on the trio. Lazily, they uncoiled themselves from their chairs, leaving money on the table. Murmuring to one another, their low laughter set Kane’s hackles to rising. They intended trouble; their body language screamed it. He had also learned what human males did to their females, and he had little doubt these three intended just that.

  Leaving enough cash on the table to cover his food and the two beers, Kane also rose from his table. No one seemed to notice the three men making their way to the red-haired lady, and the man behind the counter was busy setting up drinks for a waitress.

  Kane ambled amid the tables filled with drinkers and diners and intercepted the three before they r
eached her.

  Wanting to avoid a fight if he could, Kane pasted on a broad smile and directed it toward the girl. “Hello, dear, I have been looking everywhere for you.”

  The three pulled up short, glancing at one another. “She’s with you?” the foremost demanded.

  Kane draped his arm possessively over her shoulders, still smiling. “My ma—er, my wife. She likes to come here and have a good time. Come along, dear, it’s time to go home.”

  Kane’s jaunty attitude did little to convince the three men that she had a mate, or even a protector. Nor did it help matters when the woman lifted her face to blink owlishly, then scowl at him. She shrugged his arm off of her shoulders.

  “Who’re you?” she demanded; her words slurred into nearly unintelligible words. “Lea’ me ‘lone.”

  “That ain’t yer wife,” declared the one in the middle, his already beady eyes narrowed to mere slits. He had a heavy face with long jowls, and he clearly hadn’t shaved in a while. Or even bathed, given his bad body odor.

  Kane let his fake smile drain away. “That doesn’t matter. What matters is what you three intended to do with this helpless woman. I assigned myself her protector, so I will protect her. From you.”

  “Hey, we were just gonna come introduce ourselves,” said another, the one Kane gauged as the smartest of them. “Ask her if she wanted to go to a party.”

  Kane planted himself in front of her. He crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t think she’s interested. So why don’t you lads run along?”

  “Lads?” asked the fellow with the heavy face. “Are you some sort of Brit? Why don’t you let us ask her?”

  “Maybe I should make myself clearer,” Kane said slowly, not knowing what a Brit was and wondering if it was an insult. “Leave before there is trouble.”

  Again, they glanced at one another, and this time Kane read their intentions in their eyes. It was the biggest, and the dumbest, that threw the first punch. Kane caught his fist in his right hand, stopping the blow before it fell. Staring into the stupid human’s eyes, Kane slowly closed his fingers around the idiot’s hand.

  He screamed, grabbing his wrist with his free hand, collapsing to his knees, yelling something akin to, “Leggo! Leggo!”

  “What are you doing?” yelled another, reaching for his pal, and Kane took his gaze from his victim long enough to stare deep into his red-rimmed eyes.

  The man backed away instantly, terror consuming his face, and he almost tripped over his friend, who was now completely on his knees. And at Kane’s absolute mercy. The intelligent one also backed away, his expression one of frozen horror.

  “Let him go, man,” he pleaded. “We don’t want no trouble.”

  Kane released his grip. He never took his eyes from the three of them, even as the two assisted their friend up. With their hands under his elbows, they led him out, still crying, weeping, over his broken right hand as he held it out in front of him, cradled in his healthy left.

  A rapid glance around informed Kane that the entire incident had gone unnoticed. Not even the man behind the counter had paid them any heed. Relieved at this inattention to what went on around them, Kane turned to the woman.

  She stared straight ahead of her, blinking once in a while, but appeared to be asleep sitting up with her eyes open. He sighed, knowing he could not leave her there. In her current state, she could fall victim to more human predators, either on the street or in the bar.

  “I suppose you should come back with me.”

  His hotel room had two beds in it. She could sleep in one, Kane in the other, then once she—Kane fought to remember the word, ah! sobered up—she would then go on her way. Still, he did not like the responsibility of caring for her. After all, what was she to him?

  The instinct to protect the female remained dominant within him despite his inner arguments. He could no more abandon her to predators than he could one of his own species. She needed him—at least for the night. After that, she could go home to her family, if she had one, and that would be the last of her.

  Kane draped her arm over his shoulders, and half lifted her to her feet. Fully expecting a protest, or a fight, he felt pleasantly surprised when she slipped her arm around his waist. Walking together, they wended their way among the tables, and no one raised a protest or a question.

  Had I the intention, I could take her and do anything to her.

  That brought to mind the trio he had stopped from doing exactly that. In this world of humans, no one looked out for the helpless, the weak. Anger rose in him. Why should he be forced to live among these stupid, selfish humans who could not look after and care for their own?

  The girl muttered something Kane couldn’t catch as he left the bar with her. Night had fallen, and the air felt thick and humid. Above him, the stars were barely visible, diluted. As though their brightness had been dimmed. People on the sidewalk passed them by, not even bothering to take a second look at either Kane or the girl.

  Nor did the desk clerk as Kane walked her across the lobby to the elevators. He rode it up to his floor, pulling his key card from his jeans pocket while still supporting her. Her hair hung in her face, and she still muttered now and then, but had he not held her upright, she would have collapsed, limp, to the floor.

  Secure in his room, Kane took her to one of the large, comfortable-looking beds and laid her down on it. She lay there, semi-conscious, muttering, as he pulled off her shoes. Then he covered her with the bedspread and left her to sleep.

  Darkening the room, Kane dragged an armchair next to the window and sat staring out over the city’s lights. He had come to this city of Portland, in the state of Oregon, earlier in the day. Within a matter of hours, no, minutes, he hated it. Hated the noise, the humans, the stench, the lack of his freedom.

  “I may have to live here,” he muttered, his boots propped up on the window sill. “But I will never love it.”

  Behind him, the girl ceased muttering and snored lightly. The air conditioner hummed gently, cooling the humid and overly warm atmosphere in the room. Still, Kane gazed down at the city’s traffic, heavy even at that late hour. A siren screamed, faint with distance and the interference of the walls.

  Though not quite tired, Kane undressed to his underwear, then turned the blankets back on his bed. In the darkness, the woman slept on. Under the covers of his own bed, he stared at the ceiling for a long time before sleep finally claimed him.

  Chapter Two

  Nauseous, her mouth dry and tasting as though a cat had peed in it, Taylor slowly woke. Blinding sunlight glared in through the windows. Blinking, the light spearing her head like shards of glass, she rolled over in the bed in order to shut out the terrible light. Bed? What bed?

  Lifting her upper body onto her elbow, she peered around. A hotel room. But whose?

  “What the hell?” she croaked, her voice sounding more like a bullfrog’s than her own.

  In the bathroom, the shower ran. A stab of fear jolted her. Who in the hell was in the shower? How did I get here? Pulling off the bedspread that had covered her, Taylor carefully sat up, trying to remember. She wore her clothes; only her shoes were missing. Ah. They were there beside the bed.

  Licking her dry lips, wishing for a glass of water to wash that nasty taste from her mouth, she fought to remember. Vaguely, she recalled arguing with Ted for another beer. Then some big dude had his arm around her. Suddenly panicked, she wondered if he had taken her here to this room and then raped her.

  Cautiously, she put her fingers to her crotch. She felt no pain, no burning sensation that might indicate she had been forcibly taken. Her thighs were clear of bruises, and she wore exactly what she had gone to the bar in. Minus her shoes, of course.

  “Maybe he raped my feet,” Taylor muttered. “Foot fetish kinda guy.”

  The shower cut off.

  Uncertain whether to escape while she could or sit there and see what sort of guy this was, Taylor swiped her hair back over her shoulders. Cold fear settled int
o her stomach, yet she wasn’t restrained. She hadn’t been raped. An uneasy thought occurred to her.

  What if he saw me drunk out of my mind and brought me here for my own safety?

  While that seemed the least likely scenario, Taylor sat on the edge of the bed while the bathroom door opened.

  Taylor’s mouth dropped.

  If Thor, the god of thunder, had come to Portland, this guy was him. To a T. Wearing only a towel around his hips, his dark blond hair still dripping down his neck and shoulders, he paused to stare back at her. Massive muscles gleamed in the sunlight pouring across his shoulders, biceps, and pecs.

  His wide eyes were the color of chipped ice, and nearly as cold. Taylor suppressed a shiver when those eyes met hers. His nose bent at an angle like a bird of prey’s, yet his full sensual lips curved upward in a tiny, quirky smile.

  “Hello,” he said, his voice mellow, not as deep as his size might suggest.

  “Uh, hi.” Taylor had no idea what to say next. Just ask him, dummy. “How did I get here? And who are you?”

  The hugely big dude, one of the biggest men she had ever seen—and she knew some big men—glanced aside. He ran his fingers through his wet hair as though embarrassed.

  “I saw you at the bar,” he finally said. “Some men, well, I think they, um, wanted to hurt you.”

  Taylor swallowed hard. “You mean, some guys were going to take me out and rape me? And you brought me here?”

  He shrugged his massive shoulders, still not looking at her. “I sort of forced them to leave you alone. I couldn’t just leave you there for other predators, now could I?”

  Speechless, Taylor stared at him. He finally glanced at her, then away again, and suddenly he seemed like a small boy who didn’t know if he had done something wrong or not. He looked vulnerable—if such a big man could ever be such.

  “Then I owe you my life,” she replied simply.