Dragon Fever: Limited Edition Holiday Romance Boxset

by Serena Meadows

  Drake sent a tiny burst of fire, hardly larger than a baseball, at the Russian’s gun hand. It struck true.

  The man screamed, and dropped his weapon, his hand on fire. He shook the flames out, still screaming, as Drake slowly advanced on him. The idiot’s shrieks would draw attention, and attention was the last thing he needed right then. Lowering his head, Drake hissed, long and threatening.

  The man fled. Running on the heels of his master, he charged down the corridor to Nasty’s suite. Finding the door shut against him, he shouted in Russian, banging on the door with his good hand even as Drake rounded the corner to stalk him. Frantic, panicked, he shouted and yelled, screaming words in his native tongue. Drake had no need to speak the language to know what he demanded.

  Let me in, let me in!

  Drake hissed again, shooting a thin stream of flame at the guard, who once again screamed in terror. Then the door opened, and the bodyguard dashed inside. The door slammed shut. Satisfied, yet his thirst for revenge unslaked, Drake shifted back into his human form.

  Just in time, too.

  Drawn by the Russian’s screaming, people emerged from rooms, scared, curious, asking questions in several languages. Some were directed at Drake, but he merely shrugged. Who me? I don’t know anything from nothing. He gazed back at them, his expression blank, even as security personnel arrived to investigate.

  “Sir, excuse me.”

  Drake turned as one uniformed man approached him, the Russian’s gun in his hand. Feigning alarm, Drake raised his hands. “Man, I just got off the elevator. Will you put that thing away?”

  “Did you hear anything out of the ordinary, sir?”

  “Uh, no. But they might have.” He gestured toward the people filling the corridor, reporting what they heard to other security guys. “Uh, I hate guns, man. What the hell is going on here?”

  “People have reported men screaming, and I found this gun by the elevators. You have seen nothing?”

  “No, man, I told you, I just got up here and found chaos. Can I go now? My girl might be scared.”

  His interrogator waved at him, impatient. “Go.”

  Drake continued on down to the room where he’d left Emily, who was far from scared. She was mad. “Did you flame them? I saw them run into their room.”

  “Got the last guy.”

  Picking up his earpiece, he spoke. “Jude? You there, man?”

  “It’s Natalie. Jude is watching the excitement. What happened?”

  “Scared the shits to running into Nasty’s suite. When things calm down, come on down here.”

  “Copy that.”

  “How’s Neil?”

  Natalie hesitated. “I don’t know. The only one who’ll answer is Taylor, and she won’t say much.”

  Drake swore violently. “Is he still alive?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Get down here as soon as you can, girl.”

  “We will.”

  After taking a peek through the fisheye lens at the door opposite, and seeing nothing of note, Drake turned to Emily. “They all went inside?”

  “Yeah.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest in a way he knew well. The gesture meant worry, anger, and fear all rolled into one. Yet, she stood firm, her head high, ready to do whatever was necessary. Drake loved her for that. “I’m gonna listen at their door.”

  He expected her to stop him, but she merely nodded. “I wanted to, but there were too many people around.”

  Opening the door to their suite, Drake looked down the hall and saw no one. “Keep it open for me.”

  Emily nodded, holding it wide as Drake stepped out of the view of Nasty’s peephole, and put his ear to the stout wood. He heard voices raised in agitation, but in languages he couldn’t understand. He also listened to a man’s low sobbing, guessing that was the Russian whose hand Drake had turned to charcoal.

  Slipping back to Emily, he let the door swing closed. “Get a hold of someone,” he said. “I need to know how Neil is.”

  “I’ve been trying, but they won’t answer.”

  Fingering his earpiece, Drake tried again. “Boss? What’s happening? Talk to me, dammit.”

  “Drake, we’re on our way fast,” Jude answered instead. “Open your door.”

  “You got it.”

  Opening the suite’s door, he gazed down the corridor, Emily beside him, as Jude and Natalie trotted toward them.

  “Get in,” Drake said, ushering them inside. After closing the door, watching Emily and Natalie embrace, both near tears, he asked Jude, “Did you have trouble?”

  “Not really, but you sure kicked an anthill. Private cops all over the place up here.”

  Drake waved that comment away. “I had to in order to get them all in one place. Why won’t they let us in on what’s happening below?”

  Jude shook his head, his face lined with grief, fear, and anger. “I think they’re working on him,” he said, his voice low. “Trying to save his life.”

  “Was he shot?”

  Jude nodded, his eyes on Drake’s. “In the head.”

  “Shit, shit, shit!”

  Spinning away from Jude, Drake sank into a chair and put his face in his hands. Neil’s smiling, always cheerful face intruded into his mind, even as grief and despair tried to take control of his wits, of his emotions. “No,” he muttered. “No, no, he’ll be okay. Neil is tough; he’s strong, dammit. He’ll be okay.”

  Emily sat beside him and pulled Drake’s face into her bosom. “Yeah, that’s right,” she said, her tone soothing. “He’s a dragon; dragons are strong; he’ll be okay.”

  “Yeah,” Jude added. “What bullet can take down a dragon like Neil?”

  Glancing up, Drake saw Natalie’s face crumple as she fought not to cry. Jude pulled her into him, his eyes bleak and filled with so much pain that Drake had to look away. He stood up, almost casting Emily to the floor in his haste.

  “I’m going down there,” he snapped. “I need to know. We need to know.”

  “Drake.” Emily grabbed his arm as he strode toward the door. “No. Our duty is to stay here, to watch Snowman and Nasty and make sure they don’t escape. You must stay with us.”

  Drake hesitated, gazing into her eyes, knowing she was right. “But, Neil—”

  “We’ll live or die according to his fate,” Emily told him softly, her hands cupping his cheeks. “Your being there will neither help him nor stop what is happening. Kane said to watch the bad guys. You must obey him.”

  “Emily—”

  The radio exploded in their ears before Drake got another word out. “He’s all right, Neil is all right.” Kane’s voice sounded exhausted. “The bullet didn’t drill right through like we thought, it bounced off his thick dragon skull.”

  “Oh, God.” Emily sank to her knees, sobbing, as Natalie held her close, her own tears sliding down her cheeks. They clung to one another, their joint sobs making Drake’s eyes burn as he met Jude’s.

  Drake tried to answer, but the dryness in his mouth forbade it. “Will—will he recover?”

  “Damn straight, he will. He’s awake and talking already. How are things up there?”

  “Uh.” Drake coughed, hardly able to talk. “Um.”

  “Our friends are under control,” Jude supplied. “In a Nasty way.”

  “You lads did good,” Kane said, though his voice sounded strained rather than hearty. “Look, order up some food. Keep an eye on our friends; let me know if something happens.”

  “Uh, copy,” Drake managed. “Check in about Neil, okay? How he’s doing and all?”

  “Roger that, man.”

  His legs shaking, Drake sank to the couch, staring at the carpet in near disbelief. A miracle had happened. Neil, shot in the head by the bad guys, would live. He was talking; he would recover. Unable to believe it, Drake scrubbed his hands over his face, listening to Emily and Natalie cry. He almost started when he felt Jude’s arm slide over his shoulders.

  “C’mere, big guy,” Jud
e said softly. “You need a hug; I need a hug.”

  Burying his face in Jude’s chest, Drake clung to his friend’s strong shoulders, near tears, feeling Jude’s hands on the back of his neck. Neil’s a dragon; he’s tough; the bullet bounced off his skull; he’ll be all right. So why the hell am I crying?

  And he cried with relief, with the sudden absence of fear, of the sensation that the Angel of Death had looked them in the eye and passed on. Drake wept out of stress, out of weakness, out of strength. Then he simply held Jude in his arms and wept.

  Sitting around the coffee table, the four of them dined sumptuously on the local fare of fish, crab, roast mutton or goat, Drake wasn’t sure which, sweet bread, and steak. “Say what you will,” Drake said with a grin, “these folks can cook.”

  Emily popped a date into his mouth. “They learned their skills from the French.”

  Jude and Natalie laughed. “All these chefs learn to cook in France,” Natalie stated, grinning. “And they know what folks like us want.”

  Jude cracked open a crab leg to munch the meat inside. “A dragon would eat the crab whole, uncooked, and in its shell.”

  “How would that taste?” Emily asked, watching him lick butter from his fingers.

  “Like shit.”

  He and Natalie roared in laughter, but Drake shrugged and sipped his wine. “Dragons eat their meat raw, bones and everything. Em, just wait until I take you home. We’ll dine on raw caribou and seal fat, whale blubber, and- “

  “Forget it.” Emily held her hand in front of his face, palm out. “I am sooo not interested in dining on whale blubber, thank you. You want to take me someplace special? Let’s go to Italy or Spain, lover. The place where real dragons take the ones they adore.”

  Taking her hand, Drake kissed her palm. “Then to Spain, we shall go, my love. And dine on the carcasses of the bulls killed in the arena by the matadors.”

  Under Natalie’s shocked laughter, Drake grinned. Jude stared at him, aghast while Emily merely rolled her eyes. “Why did I get the least romantic of the bunch?” she asked, her voice plaintive. “Why? Why me? Even Kane is more romantic than you.”

  “Ah, but I am the better lover.” Drake smirked as he met her annoyed gaze.

  “And just how do you know that?” she demanded. “Have you made love to him?”

  Realizing he was trapped; Drake frantically sought a way out. “Of course not. I just know he doesn’t satisfy his ladies the way I do.”

  Emily’s brow rose. “Ladies? His ladies?”

  Drake’s jaw sagged.

  Jude nudged him, laughing. “Give it up, bro. You lost the battle and the war. Time to sue for peace.”

  “Kiss me, you fool,” Emily said, her arms around his neck. “And all is forgiven.”

  Obedient, Drake kissed her and smiled into her eyes. “Should I take you into the bedroom and show you heaven?”

  “Not on working hours, Romeo,” Jude answered for her. “Stay with us, please.”

  Emily nuzzled his nose with her own. “You already have,” she whispered, then kissed him.

  His ardor rising, Drake fought it down and into submission, and forced himself to not get aroused by the passion he felt emanating from her. His hands on her arms, making himself stay away from her full and very tempting breasts, he smiled into her eyes. “Later, babe.”

  “I know.” Emily kissed him again, then sat back. Nibbling on the delicious crab, she smiled at him, sucking seductively on her finger coated in butter.

  He had to look away. “Uh, whose turn is it to listen in on our friends?”

  “Mine.”

  Emily stood up, her hips undulating in a way that held Drake captivated as she walked to the door. Then Natalie snapped, “Emily, knock it off. You’re making Drake crazy with that shit.”

  Laughing, Emily looked over her shoulder. “I know, honey. I’m just trying to lighten things up.”

  “When you make Jude look at you,” Natalie warned her, “then you and I will have some serious conversations. You will not like them.”

  Emily sighed. “Okay, I’ll quit it.”

  Disappointed, Drake watched her exit the suite in order to listen at Nasty’s door. Throughout the afternoon, since he’d driven them inside, they each reported sharp voices raised in question and anger, even fear. This time, however, Emily returned with a frown.

  “It’s all quiet over there,” she reported, frowning.

  “Maybe they’re eating like we are,” Jude suggested, glancing first at Natalie, then at Drake. “They have to eat, right?”

  “Maybe.”

  Drake worried over it, then got Kane on the radio. “Our friends are too quiet, bro. I don’t like it. What do you think? Over.”

  “So far, all is quiet down here, too. Stay sharp up there. Copy?”

  Drake sighed. “Copy.”

  “For once, I’d like a straightforward fight,” he complained as Emily sat down beside him. “You know? Where we know our enemy, and we can simply kill him. None of this shitty sneaking around.”

  “I’m with you,” Jude replied. “This time is different, though. We know our enemy, but our combat tactics have changed.” He shrugged. “That’s all.”

  “You make it sound easy.” Drake shoved his nearly empty plate away. “Let’s put this shit out in the hall for the cleanup crew.”

  Emily helped put the tray filled with empty plates, utensils, glasses, and what food they didn’t eat out in the hall by their door. Since it was open anyway, Drake crossed the aisle and pressed his ear against the wood.

  He heard nothing.

  Uneasy, not liking the fact that he heard no voices, no injured man crying in pain, he shut the door to their suite. Jude poured more wine into their glasses as Drake ambled over to the huge window that overlooked the city and the Arabian Sea. In the distance, clouds gathered on the desert horizon. “Why would they be so quiet?” he asked absently.

  “I know if a dragon stalked me, I wouldn’t be sleeping,” Natalie said.

  “Are they listening to us?” Emily asked, glancing around.

  “Or they’re waiting for something.” Jude stared into Drake’s eyes when he turned around, his glass of wine suspended in midair.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Ronan

  The remains of the late afternoon meal sat on trays on the floor outside Kane and Taylor’s suite. As Neil slept in one of the bedrooms, Ronan, Daryl, Kane, Taylor, and Jordan ate seafood, steaks, and a local, spicy dish that Ronan had no idea what it contained. He liked it, however.

  Sipping wine, he eyed Jordan. “You okay, girlfriend?”

  She scrubbed her hands over her face, then flipped her hair back over her shoulders. “I guess so. This is the second time Neil got hurt since we got here. Will he survive a third?”

  “There won’t be a third time,” Kane replied quietly. “We’ll get these goons tonight.”

  “Why are they so quiet?” Jordan demanded; her tone suddenly fierce. “They know they have a dragon after them. That’s making me nervous. It’s like they’re plotting something.”

  “Whatever it might be,” Ronan said, taking her hand, “we’ll still succeed.”

  Jordan stood up with a stiff, unnatural smile. “I’m going to check on Neil.”

  After she vanished into the bedroom, Taylor spoke softly, her eyes on the bedroom door. “She’s right. Their silence is creeping me out.”

  Ronan nodded. “I’d think they’d be trying to find a way out of here, talking, arguing, making plans.”

  “So, what do you all suggest?” Kane asked without a trace of annoyance or impatience. “We have a few more hours of daylight left before we can try to flush them from their room.”

  The radio crackled in Ronan’s ear, and Kane’s eyes widened at the same moment. “Our friends are too quiet, bro,” Drake’s voice said. “I don’t like it. What do you think? Over.”

  “So far, all is quiet down here, too,” Kane told him. “Stay sharp up there. Copy?”

&nb
sp; Drake’s sigh came clear over Ronan’s earpiece. “Copy.”

  “We’re all feeling it,” Ronan commented, standing up to pace. “Are we connected by psychic airwaves all of a sudden?”

  “I wouldn’t be at all surprised,” Taylor answered. “If we’re all sensing something is wrong, then I suggest we act on it.”

  “What do you mean?” Kane asked.

  Picking up her semi-automatic from where it lay in its holster on the coffee table, she pulled it free. After checking its loads, she donned the holster so the weapon was close at hand. “We’re at war, boys,” she said calmly. “Get ready for it.”

  Following her example, Ronan, Daryl, and Kane strapped their holsters on, checked their weapons, and donned light jackets that would cover the guns from casual view. Picking up the high-powered rifle, Kane dismantled it, and placed it, as well as its ammunition and scope, in the carrying case.

  “I hope Neil will be up for using this if we need him to,” he commented, setting it near to hand.

  “He will be.”

  Ronan glanced up to see Jordan walking toward them. “I heard what you said, so I’m getting our guns ready.”

  “Is he still asleep?” Kane asked.

  “He’s actually up and will be out in a minute.”

  Striding to the doorway, Ronan glanced inside to see Neil, his head wrapped in a thick bandage, sitting on the edge of the bed. He offered a tired grin as Ronan approached. “I can shoot the rifle if I’m needed.”

  “How’s the noggin?”

  “Hurts like hell,” Neil admitted. “If I were human, I’m sure I’d be dead or in a coma right now.”

  “Then it’s a damn good thing you’re not.” Ronan rested his hand on Neil’s shoulder. “We dragons have hard heads.”

  “Amen to that.”

  Leaving the bedroom with Neil, Ronan found Daryl with her semi-automatic in her hand. Like Taylor and Kane, she wore her shoulder holster under a jacket, but her face appeared tense, grim even. “I think we should change rooms,” she said. “We’ve been in one place too long.”