Fire Dragon

by Caris Roane

  When he’d been on his back and looking up at the beams on the ceiling above the bed, he’d doubled back on himself. He’d said to her that he didn’t want her to make too much of what had just happened between them. But while looking up, he’d realized how wrong he was.

  Sex with women he picked up at bars for one-nighters always gave a thrill, but the memory of the couplings lasted about the length of a fart. And had just about as much meaning.

  But with Emma, he’d been reminded of his married life, the intimacy, the intensity, the meaning and shared purpose. These were things his dragon valued, even more than his humanness.

  He’d been searching for the right words to tell Emma how much their lovemaking had meant to him. Then she’d cut him open with one simple statement. She wished he could forget his wife.

  All the feel good had spilled out like a dam breaking.

  He took another sip of his Scotch.

  He tried to tell himself that it was for the best. Emma had shown him who she was, he needed to believe her and that was that.

  They were both professionals and working together wouldn’t be a problem.

  Only one question nagged him. Why had she done it?

  He knew Emma well. He’d read her extensive dossier over a dozen times. He’d had her investigated as he had all the women who would be riding the saddle of his neck. There was little about the woman he didn’t know. Worse, there was little he didn’t admire and value about her.

  Yet just when he’d been ready to suggest they give dating a try, she’d intentionally wounded him.

  So, the woman had issues but something else bothered him. She said she’d felt him pulling away. He’d left her body fast enough, then he’d stopped himself and stayed on the bed and remembered his married life.

  She hadn’t been completely mistaken. His first impulse had been to leave.

  Okay, they both had issues. He could at least be that honest with himself.

  So, here he was, numbed out with Scotch, feeling bereft yet wondering if it mattered and uncertain what his next encounter with Emma would look like.

  He finally made his way back to bed then fell asleep. His dreams were marred, however, and he awakened more than once to a deeply unsettled sensation as though he’d lost a limb and couldn’t find it.

  The next day, he found Emma at the hotel dining room having her breakfast. If he feared she’d make things uncomfortable, he was soon relieved. She moved adroitly behind her professional dragon-rider mask, asked him politely if he’d slept well then proceeded to tell him the touristy plan she’d made to visit the nearby caverns. She didn’t ask him to join her. He didn’t suggest otherwise.

  The return caravan wouldn’t leave until the following morning. He said good-bye then proceeded to spend his day alone, restless and completely dissatisfied.

  ~ ~ ~

  A week after the caravan returned to Blue Lake South, Emma sat across from Logan at one of his favorite dives. The local band had a country-western-dragon-rock feel with the occasional bluesy-jazz lick thrown in. The bass player, Charlotte, was a fellow dragon-rider. Emma knew her well and liked her.

  Given the way Logan tracked the woman, Emma suspected he was interested in Charlotte. Emma respected Charlotte and thought Logan would be wise to pursue her.

  Charlotte was a tall dragon-rider, not unlike herself, with wavy red hair down to her waist. She approached legend level as a rider and had been initiated in her first battle with thirteen enemy dragons. Charlotte made a nice run on her guitar and received a spattering of applause as the throaty band singer continued to croon.

  The music was pleasant enough, but she had to admit she preferred the Persian vibe at the Wicked Fang.

  She’d asked Logan to meet her. She’d needed to talk to someone about what had happened at Ethan’s lake house.

  “I screwed up, Logan.”

  He finally dragged his gaze away from Charlotte and gave Emma his attention.

  “What did you do?”

  Before she could answer, she found herself caught again by the mystery of her friendship with Logan. He was a god among men, much like Liam. But Logan had sandy-colored hair with streaks of gold running through it. He wore it long, just below his chin and all one length. It was thick and had enough wave to be his best feature.

  His eyes were a gorgeous brown shot through with gold lightning-like marks. His lashes were thick, the envy of most women she knew. His nose had a fantastic almost playful curve which only enhanced his reputation as a prankster. He had strong cheekbones, an elegant line to his jaw and a beautiful smile with big, even teeth.

  Not for the first time she wondered why she’d never fallen for him. But she hadn’t. Instead, they were more like brother and sister. She’d never even yelled at him about her uniform disaster.

  Now, of course, there was a different kind of water under the bridge. Logan had played a part in how she’d ended up at the lake house with Liam. Maybe he would have some wisdom about how she should move forward since Logan knew him better than anyone.

  She kept it simple as she told him the terrible thing she’d said to Liam after they’d made love.

  Logan sipped his beer then narrowed his gaze at Emma. “Thought you were smarter than that.” Logan didn’t mince words. “You can’t be surprised he walked out of the room.”

  “I’m only shocked he didn’t run. The thing is, Logan, that was more about me than it was about him.”

  “You think?”

  “Yeah, I think. Or rather, I didn’t. More like, I blurted out what I was thinking.

  “I’m smelling sabotage.”

  “Exactly, like dragon-flame on shit.”

  He laughed then swigged his brown ale again. Once more, his gaze returned to the bass player.

  Emma switched to telepathy. Did you ever bed her? Charlotte? Though Emma considered Charlotte a good friend she never talked about her love life. Hell, Charlotte barely talked at all. Emma liked that about her. The woman was discretion personified.

  To Emma’s surprise, Logan sighed heavily. Charlotte and I had a thing a couple of years back.

  What? Why didn’t you tell me?

  He didn’t say anything now which led her to believe maybe Charlotte had meant more to him than he cared to say.

  She quieted her telepathic voice. You over her?

  Never. And there it was, the truth about his feelings.

  Emma physically turned toward Logan and settled her hand on his arm. I’ve known just about every detail of your bar-hopping life for the past two years, even since I entered training and you and I became friends. Why didn’t you ever mention this before?

  His smile was crooked. Same reason it took you about a year before telling me you were hot for Liam. Some things can’t be said in passing. I guess this whole situation with you and Liam has brought up old wounds and a helluva lot of regret.

  You messed up.

  I did. I was feeling too much for her, we had an argument about something stupid and I used it as an excuse to cheat on her.

  She squeezed his arm then let it go. Yeah, we women don’t like that. It’s off-putting, cheating. To say the least.

  I know. I knew it then, I know it now. I was doing the same kind of dragon-flame-on-shit thing like you did.

  She sipped her old-fashioned. Her second, actually. She wasn’t given much to wallowing. It wasn’t in her nature. She did, however, have a sense of regretful horror about what she’d done that kept swirling in her head like a slow tornado.

  Sabotage was exactly right.

  Any suggestions for me? She asked.

  Yeah. Figure out why you chose to be a complete bitch then apologize in a way that shows you mean it.

  That is really good advice. Ever take it yourself?

  He snorted. I’m not exactly the reflective type.

  Just the moon-over-an-old-flame type? Jesus, you are a country-western song.

  He chuckled again. Guess I am.

  She realized that was why she a
nd Logan were friends. They were similar types and weren’t afraid to laugh at themselves.

  When a bass riff pulled his attention back to his lost-love, Emma pondered what it would look like to apologize in a meaningful way to Liam.

  But all that greeted her was a kind of brick wall that had nothing to do with him. Like Logan, she wasn’t all that reflective either. But if she ever hoped to make amends, she needed to get her ass in gear and figure things out.

  Chapter Six

  If there was a place in hell designed for dragons, it was the infamous ice shower, which was exactly where Liam found himself.

  And he wasn’t alone.

  Logan had earned the privilege as well.

  As a fire-dragon, and when in full-dragon like now, he could take heat in just about any form, but not ice, gods help him.

  He fumed as the watery streams of ice began to fall from chutes in rows along the tall ceiling. There had to be hundreds of apertures which meant there was no way to escape the torture.

  Logan stomped around the far corner and bellowed. He sent fire through the ice some of which reached Liam, but did little to stop the onslaught.

  Within a minute, his thick dragon feet were six inches in freezing slush. He arched his neck and joined Logan in his bellowing.

  He and his fellow fighting dragon had gotten into a massive disagreement during battle training and this was where Santos had sent them, in his words and with great irony, ‘To cool off.’ So funny. He was still laughing.

  Logan’s entire body shook, a shudder of gigantic proportions. I hate ice. His telepathic voice in Liam’s head sounded like a locomotive rumbling down the tracks.

  I don’t know why you should. You’re full of the same damn stuff but coming out of every orifice. Oh, wait. That’s not ice. That’s shit.

  When did you become a comedian, asshole.

  Another sudden deluge followed, delivered via Santos who sat at the controls. No doubt he’d been listening in on the telepathic exchange. He and Logan both bellowed and blew fire, little good that it did.

  Years ago, scientists had determined that an occasional ice bath for a dragon was beneficial to the immune system, in the same way cold showers supposedly helped humans.

  Liam would always remain dubious on the subject. As a fire dragon, he ran extra hot. The ice was killing him.

  How much longer do you figure? Logan asked.

  Too long. But how about we come to an agreement that you stop shoving your damn opinions down my throat.

  You mean down that big, fat, black neck of yours? Or your ego?

  What’s that supposed to mean? Liam whipped around and faced Logan. You self-righteous bastard.

  Logan stomped his right foot which sent vibrations through the entire icy lake that was now up to Liam’s dragon knees.

  You need to let your wife go. It’s been eighteen years, Liam. Emma wasn’t wrong about what she said to you.

  Fuck you.

  They’d already had this argument which was how they’d gotten into the ice-house in the first place.

  Liam blew a stream of fire straight at Logan.

  A second ice deluge followed, which had Liam yipping and Logan issuing a high-pitched dragon scream.

  Yup, their boss was still at the controls and wasn’t having it.

  Liam knew Logan was cursing, but he couldn’t hear him above his own telepathic rant. He stomped around and made a complete circle trying to rid himself of the shakes and shudders.

  Logan did the same.

  Santos’s voice came over the loudspeaker. “Have you boys made up yet?”

  Liam stomped some more. Logan followed suit.

  Yet another deluge made both of them roar.

  Santos had his own reasons for wanting his warriors on good terms with each other. He carried the load for the entire region. No doubt he saw any discontent between dragons as a big waste of critical time. He wasn’t wrong.

  Liam turned his back to Logan. He needed to think, something he’d been avoiding since his falling-out with Emma after they’d made love. Worse, she’d talked the whole thing over with Logan. He didn’t like his private affairs bandied about, yet here he was.

  Logan had called him an idiot.

  The thing is, Liam had never thought of Emma as an insensitive person. So why had she blurted out something about his wife right after they’d made love?

  More to the point, Logan’s words rang in his ears, “Why does it matter so much after all these years? Wouldn’t Vinia have wanted you to know love again?”

  She would have. That could never be in doubt. Vinia had been generous to a fault, on every level, her entire life. She would never have denied him love.

  His attitudes had been solely on him. He’d shunned getting involved again, with any woman, because he didn’t want the pain of losing someone again. He hadn’t even understood how much he’d loved Vinia until after she’d died.

  He knew he was part of the problem between himself and Emma. He was dragging his heels. Hard. He suspected she had issues as well, but what did it matter? What did any of it matter? He didn’t want a relationship with Emma or anyone.

  The real problem was that he hadn’t been able to bed another woman since he’d been with Emma and he was about to go batshit crazy. He didn’t owe her anything, yet the moment he started to chat a woman up at a bar with all signals on ‘go’, all desire vanished.

  Emma was what he wanted, what his dragon craved.

  Stay out of my business, Logan.

  The next thing he knew, Logan’s tail whipped him hard and sent him hurtling against the side of the building. Fortunately, the structure was reinforced with more steel than a skyscraper.

  That hurt, motherfucker.

  Santos sent another deluge, but it was too late. Despite the pain, it was game on.

  Liam whipped around and blasted Logan in the face with flame. Logan streaked away from the heat and caught him with his tail-horn in the center of his back. Blood flowed.

  Liam rolled into Logan and Santos added another icy torrent. The freezing water was rising.

  He charged through the slush which sent waves flowing in front of him. He rose into the air and punched at Logan with his heavy feet.

  Logan punched back.

  Liam leaped above the slush and threw his weight at Logan. But Logan was already countering with a roll in the ice water and a powerful upward rise which caught Liam hard in the gut.

  Liam was in the process of preparing to launch his wings when a sudden grinding overhead froze him in place.

  Oh, shit.

  That sound brought his irrational, battling dragon brain to a sudden halt. Santos opened the flood gates.

  The powerful flow of water shoved him to the far end of the space, Logan right alongside him. The water level rose so fast, he could barely get his head above water. Dragons weren’t meant to swim.

  Santos’s deep voice came over the loudspeaker. “You two ready to call it quits because I swear to God you can both drown for all I care.”

  It was the combination of Santos’s hostile, I’ve-had-it words and the full submersion in freezing water that finally penetrated Liam’s temper. He bellowed then shifted to his human form. Treading the freezing water, he shouted, “I surrender.”

  Logan wasn’t far behind him.

  Liam shook in the bone-aching frigid lake. He began swimming toward the platform and stairs near the viewing room. But his muscles struggled to move. He thought it possible he could drown.

  He kept moving anyway and eventually reached the stairs and began the painful climb. Every bone in his body ached and his muscles felt like immobile pieces of concrete.

  He shivered head to toe. Logan, as well.

  Liam could hear the drains at work, but it would be awhile before the pool emptied.

  Looking back at Logan, he could see his good friend was bruised and bleeding. Liam’s back hurt as well as his ribs. He could feel warm blood seeping from the cut that had flayed him along his sp
ine.

  Yet, something about the battle in a vat of ice water had finally cleared his head. When Logan fell on the stairs, Liam went to him and offered a hand up.

  Logan took it.

  When Logan stood opposite him waiting for the door to open, Liam huffed a sigh. “Apologies,” Liam said through chattering teeth.

  “Same here. When did I become such a woman, interfering in your love life?”

  Liam laughed and slung his arm around Logan’s shoulders. “I’ve been an ass, especially about Emma.”

  “I won’t say another word.”

  The door opened and a welcome rush of warm air made his breath catch.

  “About time.” Santos waved them forward. “Let’s get you warmed up then we’re back to training.”

  ~ ~ ~

  “I still think it’s about your folks.” Jane sat on a stool in the corner of Emma’s large walk-in closet. She slowly filed her nails, inspecting them often. She’d refused to help Emma hunt for a specific locket she’d somehow misplaced.

  Emma tore through the storage on the north wall. She went from one box, to the next, to a small chest of drawers, to a woven satchel, to several metal containers on the floor near her shoes. She pulled the contents out, tossing them this way then that.

  The faster Emma went, the slower she swore Jane moved her nail file.

  She was about ready to grab the implement from Jane, snap it in two and throw it at her.

  Of course, her bad mood wasn’t Jane’s fault. She’d been in a state all day trying to figure out how to apologize to Liam. That, and Logan had said something to her as they were leaving the club that still made her mad, but she didn’t want to think about that.

  She opened the bottom drawer of her dresser. She could only use the thumb and forefinger of her right hand because she clutched something in her palm, a small notepad or something. But her left hand could toss things from the various drawers left and right.

  “What are you looking for again?”

  Emma stood upright. “The locket that held the photos of my parents. I’ve had it with me all my life. They gave it to me when I was born which was eighty-three years ago so now you know how old I am.” She was pissed.