Dragon: The Clan Legacy Series

by J. S. Striker

  He quietly kept on, and she secretly admitted that, for some reason, his touch made the throbbing lessen. It made her resent him more, made her want to escape and never see him again.

  More driving, more empty roads.

  A tear slid down her right eye, even while her left started to throb. She told herself to take it like a tough girl and closed her eyes instead, trying to lull herself to sleep.

  Sleep could make her forget.

  *****

  Night came, and they stopped by an unknown motel that conveniently had no other guests. Charlie must have carried her to the room itself, because when she woke up, she was tied to the bed and he was gone.

  He returned a few minutes later with hot food. Observing him arrange the food on a tray, Francesca decided now was the time to work with her plan.

  Ignoring the now-consistent throbbing on her face, Francesca shifted in her position and felt the stiff muscles protest in response. The wince that came after was not an act, and he noticed it immediately as his eyes strayed to her ropes.

  “Look,” Francesca started, a hint of exasperation in her voice for effect. “I’m not going to escape. I’m tired and I’m hungry and all I want to do is rest now. Can you please release the ropes and let me do that properly?”

  Silence. Then Charlie nodded.

  “All right.”

  His hands moved slowly—no, precisely was more the term for it. He untied her hands as if they were precious little things, rubbing the pain with his thumbs and making her tremble for it. She bit the inside of her lip to get a hold of herself, and she avoided his eyes.

  “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I’m an ass.”

  He was only an ass for lying to her in the first place, but she bit the inside of her lip again to refrain from speaking. But then again, didn’t she omit the truth, too?

  She’d been lying since she had run away.

  Charlie moved to untie her feet, fingers running to massage them. A ball of heat spiked down her ankle at his warm touch, traveling up and making her warm all over.

  Hell. Hell, no.

  Panic slid in right after. As a reaction, her leg automatically kicked, but he held it still.

  “Reflex,” she reasoned out.

  “Hmm,” he murmured.

  “Why aren’t we taking an airplane?” she blurted out.

  “Too crowded, and Mico will come back. I don’t want anyone hurt.”

  Charlie finished touching her feet, turning around to continue preparing her food. Her mind screamed at her that this was her chance. Francesca’s hand crept to the lamp, preparing herself to run like hell and throw it at him in defense.

  Her right eye throbbed.

  Then, her right cheek.

  Alarm skittered. Then disbelief, as the potion Mya gave her was supposed to last her a month.

  But the throbbing hit, freezing her in place with her hand still on the side table. Then, pain that made her want to scratch her eyes out.

  Francesca barely had time to scream as the pain hit her full force.

  *****

  She struggled a lot. That was one of the things she remembered in her pain-induced mind, along with a lot of moaning in pain. Charlie was there in an instant, on top of her and trying to get her to calm, and she remembered kicking and kicking and him not budging at all. She calmed down enough when the pain dialed down, the haze vanishing and seeing his gaze focused on the left side of her face. No doubt, the scars were back.

  “Don’t look at me,” she whispered.

  “How long has this been going on?” he asked.

  “Too long,” she said. She struggled again, and his arms held her, his warm body surrounding her.

  “Let me help, Francesca. Tell me what to do.”

  His voice was filled with sincerity, and a gentleness that she didn’t want. But she concentrated on his words, tried to find her own.

  “I have…potion. Pouch.”

  Then the pain attacked again, and she blacked out.

  *****

  When Francesca woke up, it was dark out, and the pain was completely gone.

  She felt her arms trapped and tried to get her bearings. Blinking a couple of times cleared her vision enough for her to see the darkened room she was facing sideways, with no night lamp turned on. She saw her untouched food on the bedside table, felt her stomach grumble in response. She tried to move towards it.

  Hands pulled her back, gentle but firm. A body pressed against her from behind, and Francesca froze as she recognized the scent of the man and his warmth.

  Charlie was fast asleep. She remembered his words, remembered his soothing when the pain had been too unbearable. Her hand touched her face, finding it smooth again.

  He must have found the potion.

  And Mya must have accidentally given her a bad batch.

  Or not accidentally.

  She needed to escape. Now.

  Francesca tried to move again, and Charlie moved with her. She felt his body with her, molding against her and heating every inch of her skin. It was blatant attraction, what she was feeling, and it had nowhere to go. She allowed herself a few seconds to enjoy his arms as she closed her eyes.

  When she opened them again, her resolve was final.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Charlie missed flying.

  It was such a random thought, completely apart from his mission and the life he was living at the moment—running around, chasing after a girl and trying to dodge one or two demon attacks in the process.

  Back in Japan, he’d always found time to search for an empty, vast mountain space and shift there in his full dragon form, where he could then fly under the cover of clouds. Charlie’s dragon form was huge and lean, a sleek creature with smoke-colored scales and a penchant for fruits and raw vegetables. He was perhaps one of the few shifters who didn’t enjoy meat, something that his fellow dragon shifter, Finn, used to tease him about often. Definitely, he was the only dragon shifter who didn’t eat steak.

  Malik, his former leader before Robbie’s temporary stint (during a time when Henrik had been missing, trying to find and kill Malik’s murderer) then Henrik’s current one, had been a fruit-lover too. He had also been one of the best men Charlie had ever met in his lifetime.

  Thoughts of Malik brought back thoughts of Red, the witch Malik had mated with before Red’s sister killed him. Thoughts of Red brought back thoughts of Mya, which in turn brought back thoughts of Mico. Thoughts of the demon and his run-in with the creature then brought back thoughts of Francesca—the girl who’d given him a sleeping potion and escaped.

  The transformation she’d gone through when the potion backfired on her made him understand a little why she kept on turning to Mya for help. Mya was the one who had created the so-called curse in the first place, so it was no wonder she had the antidote. Francesca’s screams last night reverberated in his mind, too full of agony for someone so young. It made something inside him respond—a deep, primitive need to help, to soothe.

  And then he woke up, and she was gone like a thief in the night. She’d taken his car, too, and dropped it off somewhere in Fresno.

  It irritated him at first. But Charlie realized irritation would get him nowhere, and so he tried to get rid of it as quickly as possible and move to search for her. But first, a little knowledge was needed.

  “Sophia, it’s me.”

  “Charlie,” Sophia’s voice on the other line was filled with surprise, “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m sorry to bother you, Sophia. I just have something to ask.”

  “Of course. What is it?”

  Careful not to reveal any details, Charlie did his best to describe Francesca’s symptoms and the poison that had caused it—a mix of spell and vampire’s blood that made creatures go rogue, their attacks poison. He kept himself in check when Sophia said that only the witch who had created the powerful spell to begin with could make it go away.

  “But please note, this is a rare case,” Sophia added. “Most shifters
we know never survived the rogue attacks years ago. I don’t think there’s a permanent cure.”

  Great.

  More reason to convince Francesca to stop allying with Mya.

  It had taken him the rest of the week to find Francesca’s trail—something normal spies would not have been able to do, considering how well she covered her tracks. Once he got the details, it was only a matter of booking a flight, which was the fastest way of catching up.

  It looked like he was headed for Hawaii.

  *****

  Hawaii was beautiful.

  It was the kind of beautiful that made you want to stare at it for hours on end—all nature’s work, from the beaches to the mountains to the friendly locals that always had a ready smile on their faces. Charlie did his best not to get distracted by it all, telling himself he had plenty of time to immerse himself in their culture when the mission was over.

  Whenever that was going to be.

  Francesca was difficult to locate at first—until a local chatted with another local about a crazy, frizzy-haired girl that was a little too enthusiastic at her barista job, amusing them thoroughly. It wasn’t a solid lead, but it was a lead nonetheless, so Charlie kept listening in until they mentioned the area she was working at.

  As casually as possible, he followed the gossiper until they reached a resort where a tiki bar called Denali’s was located down by the shoreline. There weren’t many customers or guests at the moment, and the person manning the bar was a young man who greeted him with a friendly smile. Charlie ordered a pineapple drink and settled on a table that was out of the bar’s line of sight.

  Then he waited.

  More than half an hour later, a familiar voice could be heard at the bar, apologizing to the boy for being late and taking over. Charlie heard glasses clinking about and a soft, pleasant humming before the station became quiet. Then, a cheerful greeting as a guest approached, followed by more glasses clinking.

  He gave it a few minutes, finishing his drink first and waiting for the guest to leave before standing up and approaching the stall. She had her back to him as she arranged some things and was still humming, but she turned back around to face him when she heard his deliberately loud footsteps.

  Her eyes lit up with surprise when she saw him before she stilled completely.

  “Good morning, Francesca.”

  Her mouth opened, then closed again.

  “Quite the potion you gave me,” he commented offhandedly, placing the empty glass of pineapple juice in front of her. Her eyes followed the movement before returning back to his face.

  “It’s a basic sleeping one,” she blurted out. “Anyone can make it in their sleep.”

  “Good to know,” Charlie murmured. Casually, he took a step to the side until he was inside the standalone bar, a subtle move so as not to startle her. Francesca took a step back, then seemed to realize she had nowhere to go because he was blocking the entrance.

  A charged silence filled the air as neither of them budged.

  “Thank you for not tying me back…back there,” she muttered, looking down.

  Charlie remembered the motel again—how she’d struggled and screamed in pain, her eyes blinded with it. He should have tied her up, but couldn’t, and had no option but to hold her until the potion in her pouch calmed her down and made her fall asleep. Even at that point, he should have already tied her up and gone to sleep on the floor.

  Instead, he’d held her in his arms and slept from exhaustion beside her.

  He was breaking too many rules for her, and he disliked it. Frowning, Charlie turned back to the present and kept his gaze on her.

  “Thank you for taking advantage of it,” he said calmly.

  Her eyes flew to his, shame in her expression before she steeled herself. “I don’t like being handled. It had to be done.”

  “You mean you’re used to being spoiled,” Charlie intoned.

  As expected, the statement made her react. Francesca stepped closer until they were toe to toe.

  “Don’t assume to know me when you don’t know a damn thing,” she hissed, eyes flaring with a hidden temper. For a moment, he found himself distracted at her darkening gaze—something that never happened to him and irritated him further.

  “You’re nineteen,” he cut back, “You’re not yet an adult.”

  Francesca stood on tiptoe, matching his height until their mouths were only inches away. “I bet if I kiss you right now, all you will feel is adult pleasure.”

  The words stirred him. They sent his brain into overdrive as the heat of her breath whispered in his mouth, as her earthy, wild scent reached his nostrils. A rush of desire singed him as his mind provided images of him actually kissing her, taking her by surprise until she kissed him back—lips to lips, tongue to tongue, hands all over each other. His pants tightened, and he was pretty sure his eyes dilated.

  Then Charlie realized how absolutely wrong it was, and he abruptly pulled himself back to reality. Outwardly, he leaned back, breaking the spell.

  “I wouldn’t feel anything for you,” he murmured, fighting to keep his calm even as the animal inside him urged him to take.

  The air stilled between them, and something flickered in her eyes before she masked it and stepped back. Shaken at their exchange, unable to focus, Charlie took a mental step back of his own before speaking.

  “Come with me,” Charlie said. “I won’t hurt you.”

  Her hand trembled, and he saw her fisting it. “I can’t. I need to find Mya. It’s important to me.”

  “Then let me help you find her.”

  Silence.

  “I’ll think about it,” she finally replied. Then she quietly passed by his side to get to the bar’s entrance, body brushing against his.

  An electric zing passed between them, but she gave no indication that she felt it. Charlie stayed where he was, opting not to follow her.

  He needed to get a hold of himself first.

  *****

  Charlie gave it a few hours, tops. When night came, he tracked her again and found her at a quiet area by the beach, staring at the ocean. He walked the shoreline until he reached her side, staying silent and letting himself appreciate the view, too.

  “I haven’t decided yet,” Francesca said a few minutes later.

  He nodded his head, placed his hands in his side pockets as he subtly watched her. She was wearing a yellow sundress, one that clashed with her hair and made her look like a bright, pretty sunflower. Charlie carefully thought out what he wanted to say in his mind to find the proper way to convince her to stop putting herself in danger. When it all came together, he opened his mouth.

  A sudden movement beside the nearby coconut tree stopped him from speaking. He quietly observed from the corner of his eye as a shadow appeared beside the tree, watching them. It wasn’t Mico, because there was no smoke curling around him.

  This was something else.

  “You know, you can always leave anytime,” Francesca said, unaware of the presence. “I mean, I wouldn’t mind if you go away and get tired of the mission and all that.”

  The bright, hopeful tone would have had Charlie smiling if not for the threat a few meters away from them. Francesca turned her head to glare at him, but stopped when she saw his blank expression and his gaze beyond her shoulder.

  He took her hand before she could say anything, squeezing once. Then he used her hand to hide his shifting beneath, until his hand formed scales, then claws.

  “Let’s take a stroll,” he said loudly.

  Her hand didn’t tremble as she squeezed his back.

  “Let’s.”

  They walked in silence away from the ocean and towards the noisier area, mindful of the people and the potential danger they both posed towards the innocent. Charlie kept his hand on hers, put his other hand down by his side, and quickly shifted that, too.

  Nothing happened when they passed the beach resort’s crowded area, an open sand disco where guests and locals danced and lau
ghed. Nothing happened when they navigated their way through the multiple cottages behind the disco area, though both of them still did not say a single word. Charlie pulled her towards what appeared to be a golf course, an open space but closed in by trees and further away from any human contact.

  It was there that the creature attacked.

  Charlie saw a blur, the flash of nails, hurling itself at them in sheer, deadly silence and force. He knew what it was before it made its move, already anticipated the lunge before it could happen. Fangs descended, with the intention of burying in his neck. Letting go of Francesca’s hand, he took a step forward and met the creature with one strong, precise swipe of claws.

  The creature leaped back and hissed.

  Francesca stared and backed away from them both.

  “Stay behind me,” Charlie ordered, voice turning hard. “Don’t give it a reason to attack you.”

  The vampire tilted its head—his, because it turned out it was a man—but gave no indication of understanding. Blank eyes stared at Charlie before lunging again.

  Charlie countered by swiping the vampire’s chest. When the vampire made a move to back away, Charlie didn’t waste any time. He grabbed him by the shoulder with one hand, placed his claws on the chest, then pushed with all his might using his natural sharp weapon.

  Blood gushed out, and Charlie kept pushing until the ribs broke, the flesh gave in and tore open. He heard skin rip, ignored everything as his hand went inside, where things were cold and horrible. With no hesitation, he ripped out the heart and squeezed until it exploded in his hand.

  Blood sprayed some more. The vampire’s body vibrated for a few seconds before he fell to the ground in one rough movement.

  “Oh, shit.”

  Francesca’s exclamation had Charlie glancing at her and the blood on her cheek. Her eyes glazed with shock.

  “…vampires?”

  Charlie nodded. “I believe word’s out about your connection to the most wanted witch in the world.”

  “Oh, God. Oh, my God.”

  “You need to decide now,” Charlie said firmly.

  “Stop pressuring me,” she snapped, panic fluttering.

  “Decide now.”

  “No.”