by Megan Derr
"You know that 'serial killer' isn't the kind of thing that should become family tradition, right?" Rain replied.
Rage flickered like distant lightning in Zaroff's eyes. He pulled out a shiny cigarette case, selected a cigarette, and lit it with a lighter that looked nearly as old as the house. Rain wrinkled his nose at the smell but said nothing. "I'm no serial killer, and neither were the rest of my family. We are esteemed gentlemen who happen to excel at the hunt to the point there is a dearth of worthy prey. We cannot help it the only game dangerous enough to satisfy our needs are other men. Nor is it my fault they never prove superior." Something gleamed in his eyes. "Of course, I've heard rumors of even better hunts, and keep hoping I'll succeed in bringing such beasts to my island someday… but my every attempt has thus far failed. Sometimes I start to think I was lied to. It's hard sometimes to know which rumors are truth and which are madness."
"Oh, madness becomes apparent pretty quickly," Rain replied—and grunted when that got him backhanded.
"My apologies," Zaroff said stiffly. "I should not have let my temper get the better of me, but I do hate to be so unfairly judged. You don't know what it's like to hunger for a challenge, the joy that comes from being relieved of your boredom for just a few hours."
"I know a few things about boredom," Rain replied. "You should sit through Philosophy 101, or listen to my friend Josh talk about his tropical fish for the third time in one day."
Zaroff gave another laugh. "Ah, to be young again. But I think that's enough conversation. You will need to get started if you hope to last more than a few hours."
Rain shrugged and stood with Zaroff. "So I get a knife and food and… just wander around the island?" They weren't even going to give him clothes or shoes? All he had was his swimtrunks. Well, maybe that would make it more interesting somehow.
"Yes, precisely, though I strongly advise you try to be a bit creative in your wandering. So many simply cut a straight course or try to make for the water. If you behave in such a dull and predictable manner you will die very quickly." He clapped Rain on the shoulder, so much like Brandon and the other guys did that Rain barely restrained an urge to punch him. "After the sun sets, my men and I will begin the hunt."
"One against four doesn't seem very sporting."
"It's a competition, much more interesting that way."
"For you," Rain retorted.
"Be clever, my boy, be clever! And we no longer allow the use of guns, you know. Guns end things so quickly. Much more of a challenge to fight with only blades, though sometimes we've had to resort to bows."
Rain walked with Zaroff back through the house until they reached the front, where Ivan appeared with a worn out knapsack filled with food and a sheathed knife attached to a sturdy leather belt. Zaroff clapped him on the back again. "You have until sunset to make yourself hard to catch. I'm assured you will be interesting prey, so don't disappoint, else I shall have to punish Vanya for lying to me."
Rain looked at Zaroff, then Ivan, then back at Zaroff. He shrugged. "Sure, General. Do my best."
"Well, you're so calm and haven't done any of that trite pleading or threatening, so I've hope for you. Good luck! If you manage to survive, we will, of course, take you home."
"That would be nice. See you later, then," Rain replied and shrugged the backpack on as he walked off into the trees.
He ditched the knife in a pond because he had way, way better to work with if it became necessary. After a couple of hours of wandering, he finally sat on a large boulder and opened the bag. Boring, boring, boring. It was the kind of crap Jamie insisted on eating when he dragged everyone along on one of his charity hiking trips.
Munching resentfully on a granola bar that tasted like sawdust and old socks, he ditched the bag and the rest of the crap food in it. When he got really hungry, he'd just go back to the stupid mansion that time tried to forget.
At least he'd shaved his head before this trip, though he wouldn't have minded a hat. Ah, well.
He wandered aimlessly around the island, poking and prodding, occasionally staring out at the sea and daydreaming about being on a yacht, just him and Whitney and a never-ending pile of comic books. And copies of that dumb fantasy show Whitney watched just because he knew it offended Rain.
Eventually he started yawning practically non-stop, and he gave up wandering in favor of climbing up to the highest sturdy branch of an enormous tree.
Greatest hunters in the world, huh? Oh, he wished he could tell them how laughably wrong they were. Rain started the timer on his fancy, waterproof watch and settled back to watch the ocean until it grew too dark to see. He switched to stargazing through the gaps in the leaves.
After two hours and eleven minutes, he finally heard some noise. They were awfully loud for people who were supposed to be good at this. Maybe it was just what Whitney called his unreasonable standards. He looked down, but it was another hour before the people making the noise finally showed up: Zaroff and Ivan.
Zaroff examined every bit of dirt and every leaf, looked up, down, and all-around, but eventually shook his head and resumed moving.
Rain shrugged and waited, but no one else came close to finding his hiding spot.
In the morning, he washed up in a pond that smelled of clean water then resumed wandering.
Eventually he heard someone tromping around nearby, could hear the man muttering. Rain found a large tree and just for the amusement, he crawled down to hide in the enormous roots. But much like Zaroff the night before, the man came close but never found him, instead carrying on as though he thought he was on a trail, even though Rain was way too lazy to go to that much effort.
He spent most of the day following the hunters around, ducking out of sight occasionally but mostly never having to bother. If anything gave him away, it would be the moment he finally started laughing at them.
Eventually he decided it was time for a nap and returned to a little cave he'd seen earlier in the day. By the time he woke up, evening was falling and everything was growing quiet. He crept through the trees, but could not hear any sign of the hunters. Maybe they'd gone in for dinner.
Keeping ear and nose out, he explored more of the island. His interest was almost piqued when he came across quicksand. Looked like the whole southeast corner of the island was swampland, or at least most of it was. Man, his cousins would have loved it.
He trekked carefully through the treacherous muck until he found a nice tree for his second night, then went to see about food since he was too far out for it to be worth it to trek all the way back to the creepy house.
He'd just gathered a few fish from a pond when he heard the dog. Gathering the fish together in a large leaf, he crept off into the trees and quickly climbed one. Several minutes later, the dog burst into the clearing. It sniffed around, nose to the ground, and went right up to the tree and looked up.
Rain bared his teeth and the dog whined. "Shh, good girl," Rain replied and threw down a fish. The dog wolfed it down quickly, then cried tentatively at him. He threw down the other two fish, and the dog wolfed them down even faster than she had the first one. She panted at him, lifted up to rest her front paws against the tree briefly, then ran off across the way and vanished into the scrub, barking loudly.
A few minutes later, Zaroff and his buddies came through, and Rain was disappointed they'd thought to put on face paint. They all had such fair skin, he'd wanted to see if any of them glowed in the dark. They muttered to each other, something about having been certain 'the game' must be this way, and gave the clearing a thorough sweep. Their eyes passed right over him, no surprise there, given their less than stellar eyesight and the fact Rain didn't need makeup to blend into the dark.
They moved on, and after the sounds had long since faded, Rain caught some more fish and headed back to his tree to enjoy dinner.
He woke the next morning to the sound of an entire pack of dogs and more people. Must have dragged out Ivan and the other servants to lead the dogs. Wel
l, whatever, he'd been getting bored anyway, and the poor prisoners probably would like their freedom.
Rain yawned and leaped neatly down from his tree, stretched languorously and then went in search of breakfast. He'd just finished eating a boring handful of berries and nuts when the dogs showed up. Rain stared hard and with panicked yips and whines, the dogs ran away.
Poor puppies. Hopefully they'd calm down once they were well away from him. Rain shoved the last of the berries in his mouth then stripped off his swimtrunks.
As the dumbass hunters came into the clearing, he grinned. "Hi. Game's over."
"What—" Zaroff started, but the words died with a terrified squeak as Rain transformed.
He roared as he settled fully into his dragon form, enjoying the way the sunlight warmed his gleaming black scales. He flicked his tongue out and tasted the air. All of the hunters and a handful of the servants had pissed themselves.
Zaroff and the other hunters turned to run, but they toppled over themselves as Rain gave a bellowing roar much, much louder than the first one.
After that, it was over quickly. As humans went, they weren't the worst he'd ever tasted, but then again, there was never any reason to kill and eat the humans that would taste good.
He paused only when he came to Zaroff, pinning him to the ground, claws pricking just enough to draw thin trails of blood. Looking up, Rain jerked his head at Ivan, who stood nearby.
Ivan came forward and rifled through Zaroff's clothes, pulled out a small black control. He signed rapidly at Zaroff for the code. Zaroff refused, and Rain made him hurt. Howling in pain, Zaroff finally gave up the code. Ivan tested it on himself, and when it worked, went off to start freeing the others while Rain finished his snack.
Rain spat out a foot and shifted back to human. Ivan came out of the group of people who'd huddled around him. "Hiya, Brown Bear."
Ivan bowed slightly, and his hands moved fluidly as he signed, "Thank you for the rescue, my lord."
"Ugh, we don't go in for that old school lord stuff," Rain replied. "Please, I'm no more a lord than you are a cat. Will you and the others be all right? Can you get off the island on your own?"
"Yes, we'll be fine," Ivan replied with a smile. "Get home to your family and friends, and thank you again."
Rain nodded, clasped hands with Ivan briefly, then scooped up his trunks and headed off until he found a stretch of cliff. He dove into the water and transformed again, rumbling in pleasure at the cool water, even if it tasted like a rotted saltshaker.
He swam quickly back toward the island where his friends would be waiting, shifting back to human as he drew close enough he might be spotted. Pulling on the trunks while underwater was exactly as irritating as he remembered, but it was still far easier than being arrested for public nudity would be.
It took him another hour to reach the fancy hotel they were staying at, some over the top, ridiculously expensive thing Jefferson had arranged like so much else.
"Oh, my fucking god! Rainsford, you ass!"
He stopped short as Brandon, Jefferson, and Carl bolted across the lobby, forcing people to dodge hastily out of their way, and closed in on him. "Oh, my god, dude," Brandon said, hugging him tightly. "We've been worried sick. Jeffers was gonna call the cops, but Whitney kept saying we shouldn't, that you'd be fine and stroll right in eventually. Dude was crying last night he's been so worried, but he keeps telling us you'll be fine, and you sure as shit are, bro. Aren't you?"
Rain nodded. "Tired and really hungry—could we go back to that steak place tonight, Jeffers?"
"Yeah, dude, anything you want," Jefferson replied and rested a hand on Rain's head to give it a gentle shake. "Glad you're okay, bro. Seriously, we've all been worried as hell." He gave Rain a sudden hug, followed by Carl. "I'll tell the rest of the guys and get reservations for dinner," Jefferson said. "Go tell your boyfriend you're alive."
"Boyfriend?" His face heated as they all laughed. "You aren't funny. Whitney's not—"
They cut him off with more laughter and playful shoves. "Please," Carl said. "Bro, everyone knows you two are an item, except like, the two of you. Seriously, he was crying, Rainsford. Saddest fucking thing you ever saw. Even broke Steven's cold heart."
"Okay," Rain said meekly. "Um. Thanks, dudes."
Rolling their eyes and scoffing, they shoved him toward the elevators. "Move it!" Jefferson ordered.
Rain had to knock on the door. "Open up!"
He heard something crash, then the door flew open, and Whitney filled the door, eyes red-rimmed from tears and exhaustion. "You asshole! What took so long? I was starting to think—"
Rain kissed him, relief and happiness and impulse getting the better of him. It got him a bit lip for his trouble, but then Whitney yanked him inside, slammed the door shut, and pushed him up against it.
"You're a jerk. What took you so long?"
"I'll tell you later," Rain said. "Right now, I'm under Jefferson orders to make my boyfriend feel better."
Whitney stilled, then gave a soft huff of laughter. "I see. Then get to it you stupid, useless dragon before I revert to my family's old hunting traditions and turn you into a pair of boots."
They were late for dinner, but Rain wasn't remotely sorry.
FIN
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Megan is a long time resident of LGBTQ romance, and keeps herself busy reading, writing, and publishing it. She is often accused of fluff and nonsense. When she’s not involved in writing, she likes to cook, harass her cats, or watch movies. She loves to hear from readers, and can be found all over the internet.
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