by Milana Jacks
Fight for Her
Ice Age Dragon Brotherhood, #4
Milana Jacks
Copyright © 2018 Milana Jacks
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Unless you’ve seen dragons (you must tell me!), any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Epilogue
Dragon Brotherhood Series Epilogue
Afterword
New series teaser
About the Author
Milana’s Backlist
1
Arthur
“My lord, I’ve done everything I can,” Maisy told me as she took the thermometer from between Rose’s pale lips. It was the last thing I wanted to hear.
I ran a hand through my hair. “Have you tried—”
“I’ve tried everything!” Maisy snapped.
Dodger, the alpha of the northern wolf pack, slung a hand over her shoulder.
I glanced at the wolf healer, and she lowered her gaze. “If she stays here, she will die,” Maisy said.
I had promised Knight I would take Rose to the Detroit habitat, but my beast had taken her back to Ohio and into my nest. My chest constricted painfully, and my dragon clawed under my skin. He wanted to claim Rose as his spirit. Whereas before I’d only speculated about Rose being a spirit, now I was certain she belonged to me. Rose had liked me since she was a little girl, even proposed to me when she was ten. Back then, I’d paid her no mind and gotten a good laugh from her proposal. The last time I’d seen her, I hadn’t laughed. I wanted her.
“Leave us,” I said. The door closed quietly behind Maisy, and I buried my face in my hands and rested my elbows on my knees. It had been over a week since Knight had crashed the Cy ship. Colonel Douglas Strain, Rose’s father, had survived the Pittsburg habitat’s destruction and moved to Detroit, the most advanced habitat in my territory, and one where I should’ve taken Rose when I’d left Knight’s house two days ago.
But on my way back into my territory, I spotted a large military convoy heading for Detroit, which confirmed what I’d gathered spying on the Cy inside Pittsburg. The colonel wanted habitat expansion, which he knew would be met with resistance from the outlaws and from the Creatures of Earth. Hence, his units had moved into Detroit. During his previous talks with the Cy aliens, they had refused involvement in all-out war. Apparently, the colonel proceeded with his plans anyway. After Knight’s power display, destroying dragons likely made the top of the colonel’s to-do list.
So I tried to lie low, as did my brothers. I hadn’t heard from anyone, primarily because I didn’t have a bird creature with me to carry messages. My spirit—I know Rose is mine—was dying, and Detroit’s habitat wasn’t a good choice for me at this time. But it was the best choice for her. Decisions, decisions…
I scrubbed my face. I hadn’t shaved in a week, and my beard itched. I picked up Rose’s hand and squeezed, willing her to squeeze back.
“She looks so peaceful,” Dodger said.
I chuckled. “If you knew Rose, then you’d know the girl doesn’t have a pause button. She’s constantly moving, doing things, whether it’s dancing, acting, running. Stuff like that.”
“This is your spirit, isn’t it?”
“It is.”
“Have you claimed her?”
“She’s Knight’s baby sister.”
“Oh shit.”
I nodded. Shit indeed. I hadn’t told Knight about Rose and me. I ran my fingertips over the bump on her arm caused by the unsuccessful implant test. Before I had snatched Rose from the transport ship, I found out that the colonel had cleared her for an implant. Rose was still seventeen. The minimum age of implant was twenty. I tapped the wound site. It was devastating to watch someone with so much life energy fall into a sleep from which she couldn’t seem to wake. I got up and hovered over her face, hearing Dodger close the door behind him. I hesitated for a second, but the dragon clawed at me. I pressed my lips to hers. She didn’t kiss me back. Her lips burned with fever. I picked her up and walked outside, the cold of the Ice Age immediately seeping into my bones.
The wolves waited outside, some in wolf form, some in human form and carrying belongings. They’d already packed, anticipating our move. Maisy approached. The fear in her eyes was a good reflection of how I felt. She understood what I needed to do. I needed to go back inside the habitat, deliver Rose for another implant, and attempt to save her life while making sure the cyborgs never found out I was one of the dragons. If they discovered that, they would end me, and the Ice Age would stretch until all the humans had died out.
But if Rose didn’t live, then the world could go to hell for all I cared.
Ten days later
Colonel Douglas Strain, currently in charge of all military units in the upper half of the United States, adjusted one of the numerous screws on the left side of his face. His mechatronic fingers flexed, metal clicking against metal. None of those parts came from any Earth material I could detect, or I’d be tempted to use my element and break him.
He brushed that inhuman hand over Rose’s forehead and smiled. “She gets better every day. They tell me she woke up last night looking for a man named Arthur.” He glanced at me.
On the visitor’s sofa in the clinic, I crossed a leg over my knee and brushed nonexistent dust from my tailored pants. “Arthur is one of the dragons, isn’t he?” Inside the habitat, they knew me as Craig, my real name before I became a dragon.
“That’s correct. Her brother Knight’s best buddy.”
I raised an eyebrow.
Colonel Strain sat next to me, and I poured him some tea. It was only ten in the morning, and he was already getting on my nerves. I had no idea how this day was gonna end for him. Maybe I’d wring his neck, maybe not. My mood was as unpredictable as the weather, and for all I knew, it was gonna snow again. We were in January, and spring wasn’t coming. If it was up to my dragon, we’d stay in January winter forever. Ever since Rose took on an implant, he’d grown silent inside me. I expected him to want to claim her, seeing as she was better now and had also turned eighteen on January second, but I barely sensed him anymore.
In a nutshell, I was just all around in a piss-poor mood. The fucking screws on the colonel’s face were the last thing I wanted to see. And yet, if I didn’t stick around kissing his ass, I’d fall behind on the news about the ongoing military plans. Also, I needed to see Rose awake and back to her old self. Then I’d contemplate snatching her.
The colonel sipped his tea, then put it back on the nice porcelain plate. “I’m still curious,” he said, “about how you managed to snatch my daughter right out of the dragon’s claws.”
Easy-peasy. After years on the street and working in organized crime, lying came naturally.
Even Knight couldn’t tell when I lied. “The creature was wounded and unconscious. I found her lying a few feet away from him, and I loaded her up in my van. I’m still human, so his people allowed me into their territory without giving me a second thought. You allowed me into the upper levels, so it’s all around a lovely thing to be human.” I winked at him.
The colonel chuckled. “I can agree with that assessment. Only for her situation, though. You should consider implants.”
“Nah. I’m good, and rich enough to buy my way through the Ice Age.” My money bought me a way into the cyborgs’ high circles. Colonel Strain played the long-term game, the one where making friends with rich fucks like me would gain him allies for the time when I eventually took up implants and settled into a habitat.
The colonel smiled. I entertained him. Good for me. I should pin a medal on my suit.
“The question is if her brother or even the yellow dragon will come after my daughter again.”
“You’ll have to ask them that.”
“Oh, I intend to.”
I sipped my tea. It was supposed to be peach tea. It was some sort of engineered crap that barely tasted like a peach, and I wanted to slap the asshole who made it.
The colonel and I shared silence while my palms sweated. Rose had suffered heart failure just as I’d brought her inside the Detroit habitat research center. Immediately, they’d taken her in for surgery while I called her father. She returned from intensive care today, and we were allowed an hour of visitation. Dread swept over me, but I had to know. I got up and approached her bed, took her hand in mine.
Aware that the colonel was watching, I squeezed her hand.
Mechatronic fingers squeezed back.
My spirit was a cyborg.
2
Rose
Brian jabbed a fist in my belly, then winced. He was having a hard time sparring with a girl. Besides, he pitied me for being the only eighteen-year-old cyborg in existence. I took advantage of his feelings and connected my advanced mechatronic fist with his jaw. Brian flew to the other end of the training mat, bounced, and slid off the soft padding with a grunt. Cheers and laughter spread through the gymnasium. I bowed to my classmates. His frat boys wouldn’t let him live this down. The coach shook his head and kicked Brian in the ass, then walked over to me and took my hand in his less advanced mechatronic one. He raised our hands. “We have a winner, gentleman. It’s a girl!”
The guys laughed. Brian got up and ran his fingers through his blond curls. He offered me a hand, and I shook it, my brown eyes locked with his green ones. “Good job, Strain.”
“Thanks.” I picked up my towel and wiped my face, then poured some water down my throat. The crowds cleared out as the bell rang, and I made my way to the dressing room. Brian caught up with me and blocked the exit. He blew at his forehead to get his sweaty hair away from his eyes. He was handsome, strong, and impressively intelligent, a boy who came from a well-off family and a good friend to have in a military school where I was the only girl who’d managed to make it into active military without much training. I earned my place when my dad forced an implant on me at the age of seventeen, two months ago. At eighteen, I was the first level-one cyborg with the most advanced implant on the planet. The Cy had outdone themselves and saved my life.
“It’s my birthday tomorrow,” Brian said and stepped closer. His man scent reached my nose. Not unpleasant. I found it sexy, but then again, hormones rode me hard. I was due to have sex already. Waiting on one who shall not be named was a complete waste of my time. I was a cyborg after all. “Happy birthday,” I said. Brian was turning nineteen.
“Thanks. My parents are throwing a bash at the house. Old people party, but I need a…guest.”
A guest and not a date. God, he was so cute. I smirked just to make this harder on him. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.” He blushed. “I’m wondering if you would…um, come as my guest.”
For all the muscles Brian packed, his reluctance to call it a date was a total turnoff. Cute, but not my thing. I knew a man with a mile-long dominant streak that turned me on. Once upon a time, I had wanted to marry that man when I grew up. Now, I was a cyborg and that man wasn’t interested in cyborgs. Not that he ever was interested in me when I was a human either, but still, I had better chances as a human woman than as a cyborg. With that in mind, I smiled. “Yes.”
Brian’s eyes widened. “Cool.”
He still blocked the exit, and I couldn’t get into the dressing room. I tapped his hard abs. “I’ll see you then.”
“You know where I live?” He moved away from the door.
I stepped into the empty girls’ dressing room. “Nope.”
“Um, okay… Can I send a car for you? Around eight?”
I spun around and suppressed a sigh. “Yes, you should do that.”
He winked at me and left.
“Cute, that one,” Rina, the janitor, said and put away her mop. She grabbed a red lip gloss and leaned over the counter to apply it before a mirror.
I washed my hands. “Cute is right.”
She paused, and our eyes met in the mirror. Rina was somewhere in her thirties with bleached-blonde hair cut in a pixie style and large brown eyes. “What’s wrong with cute?” she asked.
“Nothing.” I sat on the bench and flexed my new hand. The gunmetal-gray Cy implant took up my arm to my elbow, and the knuckles hurt because the aliens made this implant mimic human responses. However, they’d also made it sturdier, more flexible than the implants before it, and packed it with all kinds of sensors. An all-around latest greatest in tech. It was even designed to support my growth should my body decide that at five foot ten, I wasn’t tall enough.
Rina leaned against the counter and crossed her arms over her chest. We’d become friends in the past week, and I liked her. Besides, she was one of the few women around. The military was mostly manland. “There’s something else,” she said.
“He’s not really my type,” I whispered. “And I feel like I’m leading him on.”
Rina shrugged. “So why go out with him?”
“I’m trying to get over someone.”
“Oh, I see. Like a rebound. Will that someone be at the party?”
“Maybe.” That someone stayed in the habitat despite his better judgment. I avoided him at all costs and had done a great job when I started up in the military. It took some begging my dad, crushing his gender issues, and demanding I was the shit with my new implant.
“Then, honey, you gotta look like a million-dollar cyborg bunny. Get the best dress, get your hair done, makeup, the whole nine yards.”
“I have a really nice gown I bought for prom but didn’t wear it.” I kicked off my sneakers.
“Why didn’t you wear it?”
“I got sick and never went.”
“Sucky. How long is the gown?”
I frowned. “Long black silk gown. Elegant.”
“Nope. You want to wear something short and shiny as shit. None of them cyborg fuckers have ever seen legs like yours.”
I chuckled. “Cyborg fuckers.”
“Oops. My bad.” Rina had told me she’d refused implants because they messed with fertility. I didn’t have a choice. Nobody asked if I wanted an implant, including my dad and the man who shall not be named.
My penthouse apartment sat at the edge of the habitat with a view of Lake St. Clair, which shouldn’t be frozen in March. The view reminded me of Pittsburgh, and since many habitats up north were built the same way, in Detroit, I didn’t feel out of place. My dad lived nearby, but I missed my brother, Michael aka Knight, one of the dragon lords my dad hated from the bottom of his heart. Since my recovery, I hadn’t had it in me to contact Knight, mainly because I feared his rejection. I was one of his enemies. The last time I’d seen Knight, it was Thanksgiving, and we parted on bad terms, namely him telling me I couldn’t start college in Detroit because it wasn’t in his territory. I ended up in the military…and in Detroit. Oh, how things had cha
nged, and so quickly. One case of the flu had resulted in my heart failure, and the next thing I knew, I awoke no longer classified as human.
I flexed my new mechatronic fingers and activated the implant wellness check simply by thinking about it. The implant communicated with the chip inside my brain, and a small green circle flashed in my palm. The implant worked like a charm. The cyborg surgeon who’d operated on me had tasked me with checking my implant daily for signs of rejection since I had originally rejected the sample. And while humans over twenty who took on implants didn’t have the burden of a daily check, I did since I was the first eighteen-year-old recipient and the first one to carry this new implant tech. If successful, I presumed the age gap for Cy implants would be lowered to eighteen. The Cy had developed better tech to accommodate the human body and mind.
I dropped my duffel on the kitchen counter and opened the cupboards. White boxes with packaged meals labeled by date and contents stared back at me. I took out today’s and separated cold from hot. I shoved what needed heating in the heater my mother insisted on calling a microwave. The salad packed into cubes, I popped into my mouth. I didn’t remember what salad should taste like, so this tasted fine by me, though the salad we ate once at my brother’s tasted way better.
Five minutes was too long. I glared at the microwave. My stomach growled, and I yanked the thing out before its time was up, ripped off the protective covering, and dug into a meat-loaf-looking thing, wishing for mashed potatoes and gravy.
A soft knock on the door interrupted my meal. Mouth stuffed, still standing there in my sweaty clothes, I rolled my eyes, not in the mood for dealing with my dad right now. I wanted to eat, shower, and go dress shopping before the stores closed. I wiped my mouth with a napkin, and stomped to the door. I yanked it wide open and motioned with my hand for him to come in. Then I stared.