by Zoe Chant
And then, sure enough...
“Where the fuck have you two been? I’ve been here for ages!”
The man’s voice was as rough as his appearance. As he flicked his cigarette butt to the ground, crushing it with the heel of his boot, two other men joined him at the mouth of the alleyway.
“Quit bitching and keep your voice down,” one of the newcomers said. “We got held up. She still there?”
The first man nodded. “Yeah – lights’re still on, and I’ve been watching the place. She hasn’t come out. And she’s there alone, as far as I can tell.”
Dante felt his shoulders tense.
She’s there alone.
The words seemed to echo within him as his dragon reared up, eyes blazing.
There were only a few reasons why men like them wanted to catch people while they were alone.
Dante could feel his lips curling into a snarl as the dragon rose to the forefront of his mind.
They wish harm upon an innocent person! We cannot stand by and allow this to happen!
Dante supposed that he should be grateful that when his dragon showed its more bloodthirsty side, it was usually in the defense of those who needed defending, and not out of rage or simple animal instinct. Which wasn’t to say he never had to rein it in and remind it that dragons had to conform to law and order these days... but thankfully, those times were few and far between.
Narrowing his eyes as his dragon growled within him, Dante watched as the three men left the mouth of the alley, making their way across the darkened street toward the strip mall. Their shoulders were hunched, tense – one of them was balling his fist and smacking it into his palm. Clearly, they were out to intimidate.
Dante counted to three, and then slipped out of the alley, following them silently. Despite the men’s burly appearances, he could tell they were all human – and even three strong human men would be no match for a dragon when it was roused. He had nothing to fear from them.
Whoever they’re going after, however...
They were not only an innocent, but a woman. What kind of men would use their strength to hurt a woman?
Men who don’t deserve to be called men, his dragon answered immediately. Men who need to be taught a lesson about real strength.
Dante swallowed. Can I really say I’m the right person to teach them, with my past?
He shook his head to clear the thought from his mind. He couldn’t worry about that right now. The only thing he could do was prevent these men from doing whatever they had planned.
Moving silently through the shadows, Dante followed them, his sharp dragon senses picking up everything. He could hear their breath, the pound of their heavy boots on the sidewalk. But he was pretty sure he knew where they were going anyway.
Mercy’s Kitchen.
Somehow, he’d known it was where they were headed. He wasn’t sure how – he’d just have to chalk it up to the dragon’s instincts.
That, and good people in bad towns tend to attract the wrong kind of attention.
Not that he knew that the owner of Mercy’s Kitchen was a good person. Again, it was only a feeling – a weird hunch that he really couldn’t justify.
“You think she’ll open up?” one of the men asked as they stood outside the restaurant.
“Yeah – I’ve been watching this place. We knock on the side door and she’ll think it’s one of those brats she’s always feeding. She’ll open up, no fuss.”
“And even if she doesn’t, that’s easily fixed,” the first man said. “A good kicking and it’ll come down. Remember – fuck this up and it’ll be our necks on the line.”
“Don’t worry. We’ll give her a good scare,” the second man sniggered.
“Not too much rough stuff –we might need to save that for later if she doesn’t get the hint this time. Trash the place a little if you need to, break some shit. Get up in her face a little. But save the real stuff for if she still won’t pay up. Boss wants to make sure we still seem friendly at this stage.”
Dante felt his chest tightening in rage, but he tried to keep his feelings in check. Too much anger and he’d miss important information.
They said boss. So they’re working for someone else.
Dante tucked the information away at the back of his mind. Naturally, low-level thugs like these ones – the same kind of low-level thug he’d once been – were always working for someone else, but it was good to have confirmation. He liked to at least have some idea of what he was dealing with.
And what he was dealing with at this moment was a pack of would-be standover men. They’d said it’d be their necks on the line if they fucked up this job – but they’d just have to go back to their bosses and explain themselves, because if luck was on his side, the owner of Mercy’s Kitchen would never even know they’d been here.
Moving silently, Dante followed the men as they turned down the narrow strip between the shops. His dragon’s superior sense of smell could pick up the scent of trash and other filth, but he ignored it. His focus was entirely on the men in the alley – one of whom was now raising his massive fist to knock on the side door of Mercy’s Kitchen.
He never got the chance. Dante was on him before he even knew he was there, knocked sideways from the stunning blow Dante landed on the side of his neck. It wouldn’t cause any permanent damage, but it’d certainly have the heavy seeing stars – and he’d be out of action for at least a few minutes.
“What the fuck –”
Dante swung around at the sound of the second man’s voice, as the first heavy dropped like a sack of potatoes to the filthy ground at his feet. He ducked the fist that swung at him – this second man was surprisingly quick, and had overcome his surprise faster than Dante had expected him to.
But as fast as he was, he still wasn’t fast enough.
No human could be, when fighting a dragon.
Dante dropped low, swinging his leg out and sweeping the second man’s feet out from under him. He came down hard on his shoulder, his head cracking against the asphalt. He groaned, rolling over slightly, but it was clear he was stunned.
Just one left, Dante thought, as he rose to his feet once more – before a sudden, piercing pain shot through his side, making him gasp.
“Fucking prick – just who the hell are you?”
Even before he felt the knife slide out of him and the blood begin to course down his side, Dante knew he’d been stabbed. He’d felt this pain before – not that that made it any nicer.
His dragon reared up in anger, fury blazing in its eyes.
How dare this human hurt us?
Gritting his teeth against the pain as he moved back, putting some distance between himself and the knife-wielding heavy, Dante pushed the dragon back down. Even wounded, he was still a match for any human. He couldn’t let the dragon’s rage and fury take him over.
Quickly, he let the dragon’s senses run over his body to assess the damage.
If he’d been human, he’d be in deep trouble right now – the knife had gone deep into his side, and clearly, the heavy had known just where to put it. He could already feel the burn of his accelerated healing kicking in, so his life wasn’t in any danger. But still, this was far from good.
Shit.
Clearly, these guys meant business. But two of them were already down – all he had to do was take this last one out, threaten them and tell them to stay away from Mercy’s Kitchen, and then he could limp off to sleep and heal.
“What the fuck.”
Dante took a sharp breath at the sound of the voice. He watched in disbelief as the first man he’d taken down staggered to his feet, shaking his head.
The blow he’d given him should have put him down for the count, Dante thought. He’d done it dozens of times before, and it’d never failed. It’d been the way he could always be sure of taking someone out of action without causing them any permanent harm. But this guy had shaken it off as if he’d done nothing more than slap him.
Ar
e these guys really human?
Dante stared at them as all three of them glowered at him, faces distorted and furious in the low light of the alley.
“Who the fuck do you think you are, Batman or something?” one of them growled. “You think you’re some kind of vigilante superhero?”
The man who’d stabbed him brandished his knife. “I got him a good one. Check it out – he’s bleeding.”
Dante knew it was true – the blood from the wound in his side was beginning to drip down onto the asphalt now.
He’d need to finish this fast.
Growling, he squared his shoulders, allowing his dragon to come forward. He’d need its strength, its fury, to take these men down.
“Fuck him up,” the lead heavy said. “Maybe he’s not a vigilante – maybe the bitch hired him as protection. We better make it clear that that’s not fucking on.”
The men crouched, hands in front of them. They were clearly waiting for him to bleed out – and then, they were going to pounce.
Well, he’d surprise them, Dante decided. They thought it was nothing but a waiting game. Little did they know –
“Just what the hell is going on out here?”
Dante jerked in surprise as the side door of Mercy’s Kitchen was suddenly flung open, and a strong female voice rang out through the close confines of the alley.
Light flooded out of the restaurant, and for a moment, it was all Dante could see – the light, and the silhouette of the woman who stood in the doorway.
He’d fucked this up – he’d hoped he could get this taken care of without disturbing or frightening her.
Protect her! She’s in danger! his dragon roared, its wings widening as it fought to rise to the surface of his mind.
Forcefully, Dante pushed it back down – if he shifted now, as useful as it would be in fighting the heavies, he’d also most likely scare the woman half to death.
But now that she was here, Dante used her presence and his need to protect her to put more fire into his belly and strengthen himself for the fight.
Power surged through him. The dragon’s strength was immense, and with it he was able to ignore the pain of the stab wound in his side.
I just have to get rid of them. Then I can escape and heal.
Roaring, he charged forward, clearly catching the men who thought he’d be too injured to fight well off their guard.
The knife was his first priority. He knew how to disarm a man – gently and not-gently. In this case, he opted for the not. There was too much at stake for him to risk it. Reaching past the knife, he grabbed the man’s wrist, twisting, and felt the bones crunch beneath his fingers. The man let out a howl of pain as the knife clattered to the ground at his feet. Dante let him go before raising his foot to kick him in the knee, and the man tumbled over, before beginning to crawl away.
One down.
Dante didn’t pause. He swung his fist into the next man’s jaw, hearing the crack as it connected. The man staggered back, clearly stunned, before tripping over his friend lying on the ground beside him.
“Fuck this shit – I thought this was supposed to be an easy job,” the third man muttered, eyeing Dante warily. His fists were still raised, but he clearly didn’t want to end up like his friends. Daring to take his eyes off Dante – if only for a moment – he glanced down at the two groaning men on the ground.
“Situation’s changed,” he barked. “This isn’t the job we signed up for. We’re getting out of here.”
“That’s right – you’d better run, you pieces of shit!”
Again, the strong female voice rang out. Dante glanced over at her in surprise – she didn’t sound frightened in the least. Still, he couldn’t have her putting herself in danger like this.
“Stay back –” he started to say, but he didn’t get far.
“And you tell your shitty boss that no means no, do you hear me?” The woman had come out into the alley now, gesturing wildly as she shouted. She was holding something in her hand – A big hammer? Dante thought, mystified, from the glimpse of it he caught from the corner of his eye.
The last remaining heavy sneered, his eyes glinting in the low light. “Don’t count on it, Mercy,” he said, his voice low and threatening. “You’ll fall into line, or you’ll see what happens. Just who do you think you’re fucking with? You think hiring some muscle is going to stop us?”
“I don’t need hired muscle to stop you,” the woman yelled, brandishing her hammer-thing again. “Get the fuck out of here, I mean it – and don’t let me catch you here again, understand?”
The man glowered at her a moment longer, lips pulled into an ugly sneer, but then he crouched, lifting his friend’s arm and slinging it over his shoulder, pulling him to his feet. The third man staggered up, massaging his jaw where Dante had hit him.
“Don’t think we’ll forget this, Mercy,” he growled as he backed away down the alley. He turned his hard gaze on Dante. “And you, whoever the fuck you are – don’t think we’ll forget you either. You better pray you never see us again.”
Dante stood, bristling, until the men had backed away down the alley and disappeared from sight. He wanted to go after them and finish the job he’d started, but he felt rooted to the spot. The woman still stood at his side, her shoulders tense, jaw set. He could practically sense the tension that radiated from her body – and, now that the crisis was over, the fear.
He owed her an apology, he supposed. He’d hoped to dispose of the men without her knowing, but he’d failed. Clearly, she and the men had history. She might be able to give him some useful information about them, but that could come later.
“I –” he started to say.
“And just who the hell do you think you are?” the woman said, rounding on him. “Do you think I can’t sort out my own problems? I didn’t ask for your help – I don’t need anyone else getting involved in this. Understand?”
Dante blinked as he looked down at her. She was over a foot shorter than him and barely cleared his chest, but something about the fiery energy in her eyes took him aback. She stood in front of him, her hands on her curvaceous hips. Even in the low light of the alley, he could see her eyes were large and brown, ringed by thick, dark lashes, and the scowl on her lips couldn’t disguise their soft fullness. Her black, ringleted hair was falling out of its bun, framing her heart-shaped face, with its wide cheeks and pointed, determined chin. Her dark skin was smooth, though he could see the laughter – and worry – lines around her eyes.
She’s beautiful, Dante thought, the realization striking him hard enough to leave him feeling stunned.
Or maybe that was the blood loss.
Suddenly remembering the wound in his side, he lifted his hand to it, trying to compress it. Pain lanced through him and he sucked in a short, quick breath, grimacing.
“I’m sorry,” he managed to get out. “I didn’t mean to cause you trouble – really. I just saw them and thought you might need some help.” He pulled his hand away from his side, his fingers sticky with blood. It hurt, but he’d be all right in a couple of hours – less, if he could sleep through the healing process. “I’ll get out of your –”
“Is that blood? Holy shit – you need to get to a hospital!”
The woman’s tone was strident, but Dante when looked up at her face he saw her eyes were wide with shock.
He shook his head. “It’s not as bad as it looks,” he said. “I don’t need a hospital, I promise you. He just nicked me a little.”
It didn’t feel good to lie, but if he went to a hospital they’d see how quickly the wound was healing, and then the jig would be up, and they’d know there was something weird about him. The manticores who had raised him had always told him that if he ever went to the cops or any other human for help, they’d think he was a freak and lock him up to do experiments on him. As a kid, it had been enough to scare him off the idea for good.
“That amount of blood does not come out of a nick,” the woman said, advancing o
n him.
Dante took a step back. “Really, I’ve caused you enough trouble for one night –”
“Oh, so you think I’m just going to let you bleed to death outside my restaurant? Don’t be so stupid. I have enough problems without giving the cops a reason to sniff around – especially since they’re all in Garrick’s back pocket. Now get inside, and try not to drip blood on my floor – I just mopped. I’m calling you an ambulance whether you like it or not.”
Dante swallowed. He couldn’t go inside with this woman, and he couldn’t let her call an ambulance. But there was something about her voice that made him feel compelled to do what she said – something within him that burned to please her. His dragon, which would usually take umbrage at being ordered around in this way, was silent within him, its head lowered, wings folded.
What’s happening here? Dante wondered, feeling dazed. He had vowed he’d never let anyone order him around ever again – he’d decide for himself what was wrong and right now.
“Come on now,” the woman said, her voice softening considerably. “I don’t like to yell at an injured man – and I don’t take no for an answer, not when it comes to something like this. So don’t argue, just come inside.”
She reached out to him, wrapping her fingers around his wrist, presumably to urge him inside. She said something else, her voice coaxing, but Dante could barely hear her.
His ears were suddenly filled by the sound of his dragon’s roar as it reared up inside him, suddenly rampant once more.
Our mate. She is our mate!
Dante blinked, wondering if the blood loss was getting to him after all.
This beautiful, brave, fiery woman? She was his mate?
It didn’t seem possible.
“Come on, big guy,” she said, and now, her voice was soft as silk. “Let’s get you inside, and look at that cut.”
She’s my mate.
Dante knew it was true. There was no point in questioning it or trying to deny it. He knew it with all of his soul. This woman was his mate.
Too stunned to argue with her anymore, Dante let himself be led inside.