Sword of the King

by Megan Derr

  "Yeah," Rafael said. "Thanks for saving us, I mean it. Especially killing my brother like that. Apparently you scared the shit out of everyone, calling his bluff."

  "He should have had a better poker face," Blaze said dismissively, then readjusted his grip on Rafael, calloused hand warm and sure where it held Rafael's arm over his shoulders, the other arm firmly around his waist. "Let's get you to bed."

  Rafael obediently went, sweat beading on his skin at the effort it took just to walk down the hall to his bedroom. Conway and Erie were close behind them, the dragons recovering from the abuse much better than the humans.

  He whimpered as Blaze laid him down on his bed. "Thanks."

  "Stop saying thanks," Blaze groused, switching on a light. Rafael saw he'd discarded his t-shirt at some point, and wore only a black tank top that did lovely things for all his muscles. It was a pity he could not do any of the things he wanted. He tensed in surprise as Blaze bent over him again and began to remove his clothes.

  "You don't—"

  "Shut up," Blaze said. "I'll be back." Rafael closed his eyes, too tired to keep them open. He listened to the distant noises of other people moving around his house, and tried to think about all he had to do the next day, but every thought just slipped away back into the haze of pain and exhaustion.

  When he heard Blaze return, he managed to drag his eyes open again, somewhat alarmed to see the scissors before he remembered Blaze had been trying to remove his clothes. He sighed softly as Blaze set to work cutting away fabric, working with surprising gentleness at the bits stuck to his body with blood.

  Blaze swore softly as he finally removed all the bits of Rafael's shirt and the ruined bandages. "What the fuck happened to your chest?"

  "Conway," Rafael said, mustering a faint smile. "He was a bit overzealous marking me. It's why I pulled back, in the woods—" He broke off as Blaze went red in the face. Someone so hardened should not be easily embarrassed. It was dangerously close to cute, though Rafael would never say that out loud. "I tried to tell you."

  Blaze coughed, bent back to his work. "Forget it for now. You need to heal, and I need to go put a bullet between Rust's eyes. That should make clear to all the syndicates that we're not fucking around. Cam belongs to us, and that's that."

  "Do you mean it?" Rafael asked, and when Blaze scowled at him, clarified, "The 'we', I mean. I was half-afraid you meant to go kill Rust, then vanish."

  "I don't know what I plan to do."

  Rafael mustered all of his remaining strength and grabbed Blaze's wrist, refusing to let go when Blaze half-heartedly tried to pull free. "Come back when you're done, if you insist on going. Promise."

  "Why does it matter?"

  "I don't know," Rafael said, meeting his eyes. "I have not the slightest idea, but I want to find out. I can't do that—we can't do that—if you don't come back."

  Blaze stared at him for a long, awful moment, and Rafael nearly told him to never mind. Then Blaze nodded, and went back to work, gently twisting his wrist free of Rafael's hold. "All right. I'll come back. Erie likes you guys, anyway."

  Rafael smiled, relishing his only real triumph of the day, and let exhaustion have him again.

  *~*~*

  When he woke, his stomach was growling, and the smell of coffee almost made him forget how badly he needed to piss. Bracing himself, Rafael dragged himself to a sitting position. The effort left him panting and bracing his hands on either side of him on the bed so he wouldn't fall back down.

  The door opened, and Conway gave an inquisitive growl as he padded into the room.

  "Of course you're healing up fine," Rafael said sourly. "Go away and leave me alone, you brat."

  Conway chittered at him, then shifted. He still looked pretty banged up, but shifting seemed to cause him little strain and his eyes were bright and clear. "Help?"

  "Yeah, help," Raf said, and Conway happily got him up out of bed and to the bathroom. When Rafael was done, Conway was waiting with his favorite pair of pajama pants. Carefully helping him into them, Conway then helped Rafael down the hall and into the kitchen.

  Rafael sighed at all the damage he saw. Someone had spent time patching up the shattered windows and broken doors, cleaned up all the broken glass and wood and what all else, but the place was still very much a wreck. "Good morning," he said to Blaze, who was fussing at the stove.

  "Morning," Blaze said, and left the stove to get coffee, carrying a mug over to Rafael. He set it on the counter, then snatched up a bottle and dumped out two pills. "They'll probably knock you out again, but they should help. Seemed to last night."

  "Thanks," Rafael said, not having the heart to tell him that he had to take three or four of the bastards before they were strong enough to knock him out. Two would sufficiently dull the pain, though, and that was enough. He needed to be aware for whatever the hell the day would bring. "I'm surprised you haven't headed out already."

  Blaze rolled his eyes. "I was going to, but then they showed up."

  "They?" Rafael asked.

  Jerking a thumb toward the back yard, Blaze replied, "Ken's family showed up. They're all out back giving him a scolding or what the hell ever. I'm kind of getting sick of all these fucking steel dragons." He ruffled Erie's hair. "Fire is enough for me."

  Erie rumbled happily, then went back to making short work of the bacon and eggs piled in front of him.

  "Do you want to try eating something?" Blaze asked. Rafael grimaced, and he laughed. "No, then. Your phone has been ringing like crazy since shortly after you fell asleep. I finally had to turn it off. It's in the living room, want me to get it?"

  Rafael nodded. "If you don't mind."

  Blaze slipped away, and Rafael wondered what it would take to make Blaze look at him again. He was tired of being avoided even as they were talking to each other. He sighed and drank his coffee, already dreading the countless phone calls he would be making. Damn it, he didn't want to be the head of a syndicate.

  He had no fucking clue what he was going to do. Too many problems, and it was really hard to focus on them when the pain was so distracting. Rafael finished his coffee and was deliberating on getting more when Blaze slipped back into the kitchen. "Here," he said, handing over the phone.

  Rafael looked at the phone, then up at Blaze, then grabbed Blaze's wrist instead of the phone and tugged him forward. He was somewhat surprised that Blaze allowed it. Letting go of Blaze's wrist, he rested a hand on Blaze's shoulder to draw him further down, and kissed him.

  Blaze's mouth was hot, which did not surprise Rafael at all. He wondered, suddenly, how Blaze had come by his unusual name. A question for later. He put all the energy he could muster into his kiss, learning Blaze's mouth, the sharp, male flavor of him colored by coffee and bacon.

  He hadn't been so interested in another person since Marianne, and it made him silently laugh to think that she would be vastly amused that Blaze was so completely her opposite. He rather thought she would have liked Blaze.

  Eager for more, he wrapped both arms around Blaze's neck, murmuring in pleasure when Blaze's hand curved gently around him to settle at the small of his back, Blaze shifting to stand between his legs.

  Rafael's poor body protested the pulls and movement, but he ignored it, not drawing back until he finally had to draw breath. "Good morning."

  "Indeed," Blaze said, cheeks flushed again but eyes the brightest Rafael had ever seen. "Shouldn't you be more careful?"

  "It's not the first time I've gotten my ass kicked," Rafael replied. "I'll be fine. By the time you get back, maybe I'll be fit enough to have some fun."

  Blaze laughed, shaking his head as he grabbed Rafael's mug, then his own, and went to get them more coffee. "You're something else."

  "So how did you come by your name?" Rafael asked as he accepted his refilled copy.

  "Uh—" Blaze turned pink again, scrubbing a hand over his hair. "My real name, as in my birth certificate, is B-l-a-i-s-e. After I claimed Erie, it sort of just became 'Blaze' and
if there's anyone who remembers my real name they've never brought it up. I doubt even Rust knows."

  Rafael tilted his head, surprised. "You have a birth certificate? Like, not a forged one?"

  Blaze shrugged. "Yeah, I do. Weird for a pit fighter, right? I was legit and normal, once. Don't remember any of it, and I never bothered to go looking for family I don't remember, but I was born a normal." He shrugged again. "Given how it was back then, my parents were probably eaten by goblins. Lot of kids left homeless, and most of us wound up with Rust. But I'd rather have Erie, so it works out in the end."

  Growling happily at the words, Erie leaned over the counter and nipped Blaze's shoulder. Blaze kissed him quick, then finished his coffee and stood up. "Come on, dragon, we have to get going—and before that crowd outside comes back in and delays us even more. Watch out for them, Raf. They're a bossy fucking lot, especially the one with two dragons. I didn't even know that was really fucking possible."

  "Be careful," Rafael said, snagging him by his t-shirt before he could dash out. "I'm really tired of losing people, especially to syndicate bullets."

  Blaze stared at him, mouth gaping slightly. He looked like Rafael had said something earth-shattering, but what?

  "What?" Rafael asked.

  "Uh—nothing," Blaze said, then abruptly surged forward and gripped his shoulders, slammed his mouth down on Rafael's in a hard kiss that left his lips throbbing. He was gone before Rafael could say anything.

  Ignoring the way Conway growled playfully at him, Rafael smiled faintly and finished his coffee before he finally started going through his stupid phone. It was going to be a long damn day, but he couldn't be sorry when that kiss had definitely been a promise that there would be a great many more forthcoming.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Blaze had never been so fucking reluctant to leave in his life. Normally he'd be on top of the fucking world, just him and Erie in his car, cruising the highway, free for a short while.

  Not wanting to leave ... it was a weird feeling. Not nearly as weird as knowing that someone had told him to be careful, had made him promise to come back.

  He'd never realized he wanted that. For as long as he could remember, it was just him and Erie. Amr had been there for a little while, but he had been there to teach them how to fight. Blaze had been too concerned with keeping Erie and himself alive to form any sort of real bond with someone. That he'd held on to Amr's number was remarkable.

  The closest thing he had to friends were the girls from the club, and they were nice to anyone who offered the same sort of protection as him. He left them alone and made others do the same; that was how 'friendship' worked in their world.

  Friend. Ken was definitely a friend, weird as it still sounded in his head. But even Ken wasn't as weird as whatever the hell was going on with Rafael. Blaze could feel his face heat all over again, and felt stupid. He wasn't some idiot teenager fooling around for the first time. He was a pit fighter, and very little fazed him. Shit, he didn't even know exactly how many people he'd killed yesterday and didn't fucking care. He was way past blushing.

  Beside him, in the passenger seat, Erie growled teasingly. "Blaze like Raf."

  "Oh, shut up," Blaze said lightly, making a face when Erie just laughed at him.

  Blaze glanced over at him briefly, then put his eyes back on the road. "You ... you really don't care? About Raf?" The few odd tricks he'd messed with before giving in to temptation with Erie had never made Erie very happy, and he'd given them up. It wasn't like it'd been a chore, not when they couldn't come close to satisfying him the way Erie could—Erie, who understood him, accepted him, and always stood beside him. Blaze had never looked back.

  Rafael, however, was different. He didn't know how or why, but fuck the man was under his skin.

  "Why care?" Erie asked. "Raf smell nice. Ice cold. Blaze still love Erie. Blaze smell happy."

  "Of course I still love you," Blaze said, trying to figure out what the hell 'ice cold' meant. Oh, ice as in Conway. Conway was cold. Why did that ... ah, because Erie was fire. His body temperature was a few degrees higher than most, the same way Conway ran a little cooler. The cold probably did feel nice to Erie.

  So Erie was saying he was cool with all of it. Ken really had been right: dragons didn't seem to care what he did with other humans; it was only other dragons that would cause a problem.

  Thinking about what that meant, everything that might someday occur if whatever thing he had going with Rafael continued, progressed ... his cheeks went hot, his mouth dry, and it was all he could do to yank his mind away from perversions and put them back on the goddamn traffic.

  He kept driving until he just couldn't stay awake any longer, and he began to see holes in the road that he knew weren't actually there. But it put them three hours away from home. Blaze frowned at that word. Home. Technically, his apartment, the city, was his home. But the word tasted stale paired with that place. The two thoughts just didn't belong together anymore. Whatever, wherever, home wound up being, it wasn't the apartment Rust had given him.

  After renting a room for the night, he dragged himself back to the car and pulled out his phone, texting Rafael their location. It was weird, texting something like that to someone—anyone. But Raf had texted him throughout the day, and Blaze had found himself replying whenever they stopped for gas.

  It was the most normal thing he'd ever done, and he still didn't quite know what to think about it. Shoving the phone back into his pocket, he pulled away from the motel entrance and around the back to their room.

  Yawning as he dragged himself back out of the car, Blaze grabbed their overnight bag and trudged to the room he'd rented for the night. Swiping his keycard, he pushed the door open and stepped inside. The room smelled like most motel rooms: old cigarettes, cheap cleaner, and stale ass. But it had a bed and a shower, which was all he fucking cared about, and he might just say fuck it to the shower.

  Blaze threw the overnight bag on the closest bed, then flopped down on his back on the other one. He groaned, muscles stiff and sore from too much activity the day before followed by spending all that day in the fucking car. The groan turned into a yawn that watered his eyes, and Blaze really just wanted to roll over and go the fuck to sleep. "I cannot fucking wait until this is over with."

  Erie growled in agreement. "Food?" he asked.

  The idea of going out made Blade all but whimper. "I'll get us food, but lemme rest for a bit. Come doze with me for thirty minutes, and then I'll go find dinner."

  "Yes, Blaze," Erie said, rumbling happily at the request, crawling up to him from the foot of the bed and cuddling up along his side. He nuzzled and nipped against Blaze's throat, still rumbling all the while, and if Blaze wasn't so goddamn tired he would definitely be all about Erie fucking him into the mattress.

  As it was, he could barely muster the energy to steal a soft kiss before dozing off.

  They both woke with a jerk to someone pounding on the door. Erie growled low, but not with any sort of threat, though that didn't stop Blaze from reaching for his gun. Who the fuck would be bugging them, and how the fuck had whoever it was found them?

  "Open up, asshole!"

  Blaze immediately relaxed as the voice registered.

  "Seriously. Open the fucking door or I'll eat your burger."

  Laughing, Blaze climbed out of bed and opened the door. "What the hell are you doing here?"

  "It was you or be stuck with my father and that asshole," Ken said, shoving his way into the room, Nev close on his heels, hauling at least three bags that filled the room with positively sinful smells. "Why the fuck did you leave without me?" Ken demanded as he deposited the bags on the table and chair by the window, then dumped his own overnight bag next to Blaze's. "Seriously, man."

  Blaze just looked at him. "What?"

  "What?" Ken repeated. "What the fuck do you mean 'what'?"

  "Did you really just say that?"

  Ken rolled his eyes. "Fuck you, man." He rifled throug
h one of the bags and pulled out a six pack of beer. "Just for that, and for going off to war without me, you get no beer."

  Blaze finally shut the door, then folded his arms across his chest and raised one brow. "I wasn't aware I was supposed to wait for you. Last I checked, you were busy with your dad and uncles or whatever. This was always a solo venture."

  "Solo my ass," Ken snapped. "You don't go taking on an entire fucking syndicate with just a gun and a dragon.

  "It doesn't seem much of an improvement to go two of each."

  Ken shot him a disgusted look and cracked open one of the cans of beer.

  "Give me one of those, asshole, or I'll leave you here in the morning."

  "Good luck with that."

  Blaze's lips twitched, but he refused to let the smile out. "Give it."

  "Yeah, yeah," Ken said, rolling his eyes again and handing over a beer. Taking another swallow of his own, he then set the can aside and dove back into the bags. "I stopped at a burger joint that didn't look half bad. Two each for you and me, I'm not even discussing the dent the lizards put in my wallet—you damn hoovers—and then damn near my weight in fries."

  "I could eat my weight in fries right now," Blaze replied, and dumped the last bag on the floor. He took the bag of hamburger patties that Ken thrust at him, and divided them out between the two dragons. They sat on the floor, backs against the bed, and began to devour them.

  Blaze drank a swallow of beer, then began to eat his own food, drowning his fries in ketchup. Biting into his first burger, he damn near moaned. "This is really fucking good."

  "Yeah, dives always have the best food," Ken said, shoveling fries in his mouth like his life depended on it. When he could talk again, he asked, "So did you have a plan, or is this a guns blazing sort of thing?"

  "Shit, we were lucky that worked with Leo. Rust will have heard all about that by now, and be waiting. I'm surprised he hasn't called me yet, unless whatever he's heard didn't include that his former pit fighter was one of the crazy gunmen."