Tropical Dragon Diver

by Zoe Chant

  Bastian had no interest in them, and considered them no threat. Even without flame, he was a dragon, many times their size and strength, and no stranger to the ocean. He had claws like swords, and his jewel-faceted scales were solid protection against their teeth.

  He surfaced to inspect his spoils, refilling his lungs.

  The sad, wilted dinghy had clearly taken a beating, and it was being tossed on the wild waves, making it difficult to get close. Bastian’s treasure sense was threatening to overwhelm him. There was something precious and rare here.

  When a wave washed over the dinghy, sloshing into the bed of the boat and what lay there, instinct made Bastian open his mouth and challenge the ocean itself with a roar. This was his, his treasure, his to crown his hoard with.

  The uncaring ocean answered by slapping another wave at him, driving the half-limp boat up against his chest.

  Finally, Bastian could look into the boat itself, and he dismissed the lurid pink suitcase that was deforming the bottom of the boat without a second thought; his treasure was not in the heavy luggage. It was the figure, a limp woman wearing something flimsy and soaking wet, plastered to every lush curve. Her long dark hair was loose around her shoulders like a cloak. She was face-down in the boat, barely breathing, and even in the storm-dark, Bastian could see that blood had dyed the water in the boat dark crimson.

  He carefully rolled her over, using a dragon claw like a surgical tool, and her face was the most beautiful golden color that he had ever seen.

  This is our mate, he realized in wonder.

  His human added anxiously, She’s been shot!

  Bastian could see that she had a wound, still oozing sharp-smelling blood, just above her heart. His human was alarmed at the amount of the blood she must have lost so far, but Bastian only knew that she was every treasure he had ever sought, and that he must take her safely to his hoard and give her everything that he had.

  Another wave threatened to rip the sinking boat away from him, just as the clouds above opened up and began to drench them in rain.

  Bastian snatched the woman up into his forearms as the tortured boat began to sink, and his human helpfully suggested how to keep her above the water without jostling her injury further.

  We don’t know if that bullet is still in her, his human warned him, but Bastian didn’t need a reminder to treat her gently.

  He couldn’t fly with her, not through weather like this, so he continued on his back, using his tail to propel them. Here, along the surface, their progress was agonizing slow, and waves broke over them several times, washing away the blood as they traveled. Bastian felt like he could hear a song at intervals, low beneath the roar of the storm.

  It was hours of this unpleasant travel, feeling the weak beat of her heart against the scales of his chest, before Shifting Sands came into view once more. Bastian lifted her into one forearm as his back legs found purchase under him. The wavebreak was as tall as he was, but he wrapped his wings forward around her protectively and carried her carefully to shore.

  The wind was finally beginning to die down as he got her up to the shelter of the bar. Tex was there, taking stock of the storm damage. If he was surprised to see Bastian away from the beach in dragon form, that was nothing to the surprise on his face when Bastian slowly lowered his prize onto the floor, bleeding and wet.

  Chapter 3

  Saina drifted through dreams of waves and wilderness. At one point, she thought she was being carried by a jeweled giant, but all the fairy tales faded into a hellish landscape of pain and misery with every jostle and wave. She tried to sing, desperate to convince the giant she was a friend, to spare her, but a storm ripped the words from her lips.

  She woke later, hard tile beneath her. A shirt folded beneath her head smelled comfortingly of saltwater and sweat.

  There was pressure at her shoulder, but the pain was pleasantly distant for the moment.

  “She’s stopped bleeding!” It was a voice that was both unfamiliar and familiar, all at the same time.

  Someone was binding her up, she realized. She kept her eyes shut and her breathing shallow. The voice didn’t sound threatening, but she knew better than to think that meant anything. She wasn’t safe here. Assuming she was would only lead to disappointment.

  There were others nearby, too; she could hear their murmurs in a confused jumble: “Who would have shot her? Who is she? Could it be the cartel?”

  “Bullet went through her,” a rough voice with no welcome said. “Gotta be thankful for that.”

  “What is going on?” This new voice was a woman, sharp with authority and impatience.

  “Bastian found a woman adrift in a sinking boat, all shot to heck.” That voice was a Southern drawl.

  “That is just what this day needed,” the authoritative woman said, her voice closer. “What sort of boat?”

  There was no attention being paid to Saina now, so she carefully drew in a breath and began to hum quietly. She was in danger here. Her only hope was to make them think she wasn’t a threat. She wasn’t sure if she was singing a seduction or a lullaby; she only knew that she was among strangers, that strangers were never benevolent, and she had to use the only defense she had to disarm them. Her shoulder was beginning to hurt in earnest now.

  “It was an inflatable dinghy, out of gas and half-deflated.” That was the voice she was thinking of as her savior. Bastian, apparently. “No markings, just a generic raft like you’d find on any yacht in the area. She was alone in it, with some luggage.”

  Her luggage! Saina breathed in a hopeful breath before resuming her faint, subtle song.

  “Did you check the luggage for identification?”

  “It sank,” Bastian said apologetically, and Saina’s heart sank with his statement. Her Voice would be gone from her forever.

  Her song took a keen of grief that she didn’t intend, and it drew attention she didn’t want.

  “Hey,” Bastian said eagerly. “You’re awake!”

  Saina let her eyes flutter open. She couldn’t tell how much of a spell she’d been able to cast; everything was distant and fuzzy with pain and confusion. Judging from the way he was gazing down at her, she’d been singing a seduction. She could expect the adoration to dissolve into confusion as her song faded, but there should be a short window of charity before it was gone completely.

  What she didn’t expect was her own reaction.

  He was the most gorgeous man she had ever laid eyes on, with a jaw like a superhero, and arresting golden eyes. Sun-bleached hair was tousled over a tanned brow, and he had the most perfect nose she’d ever seen on a man. He was wearing a lifeguard uniform and she didn’t have to feign a weak, grateful smile.

  “My hero,” she said musically, driving all her energy into the words.

  The effort of it drained her to the bones, leaving her gasping as pain flooded over her.

  “Shhh,” Bastian said, gazing down at her like she’d unrolled the ocean. “Lie still, you’re hurt…”

  As he faded into blackness, Saina found herself regretting the unconsciousness because she wouldn’t be able to gaze back into those beautiful eyes any longer.

  Chapter 4

  It’s a mercy, she’s asleep again,” the strange man with tattoos and scars told Bastian. “Bullet wounds hurt. But she’s a shifter, sure as shit, because she’s healing like one.”

  “Who are you, exactly?” Bastian asked, still feeling stunned by the woman’s brief green-eyed gaze.

  He had very mixed feelings about the man already; on the one hand, he’d been remarkably knowledgeable about bullet wounds, which was an area that lifeguard medical training hadn’t been thorough on.

  On the other hand, Bastian wanted to be the only one touching his mate and he irrationally wanted to punch the stranger.

  “Wrench,” the man said briefly and unhelpfully.

  “He kidnapped Jenny,” Travis added merrily.

  Bastian gave the handyman a quizzical look. The lynx shifter handy
man certainly wasn’t treating the stranger the way Bastian would have expected him to treat a man who had kidnapped his mate.

  “To be fair,” Jenny added, as the mate in question, “he let me go.”

  Scarlet made a displeased noise that was part sigh and part growl. “Let’s get her inside somewhere, and get to work cleaning up the resort. The Civil Guard will be here shortly for our other uninvited guest; we can have them take her back to the mainland with them.”

  “No!” Bastian said furiously, drawing his hands into fists.

  The staff stared at him.

  “Finders, keepers?” Tex, the Southern bear shifter bartender, teased. His own mate, Jenny’s identical twin sister Laura, was standing next to him and she chuckled.

  Bastian kept himself from growling at the innocent remark. “She’s my mate. She stays on the island.”

  While the rest of the gathered staff gave exclamations of disbelief, congratulations, and surprise, Scarlet threw up her hands in disgust.

  “That is just what we need,” she said in frustration. “This is a business, not a dating club, and I’ve already taken one charity case today.” She glared pointedly at Travis, Tex, and Wrench, who all sobered at her gaze. To Bastian, she said, “Put her in cottage eighteen and try to keep her from bleeding all over the sheets. And I don’t want you mooning over her all day, we’ve got a beach to clean up. We have jobs, people!”

  Her footsteps away across the open bar floor were angry and fast, and her absence left the room feeling larger.

  “I can keep an eye on her,” Jenny offered kindly.

  “I’m sure Lydia won’t mind if we borrow one of her dresses,” Laura added diplomatically. “They look about the same size.”

  Bastian realized that his mate was very scantily dressed, and that Wrench was trying very hard to keep from letting his gaze linger too long on the nearly-naked curves of her golden skin.

  He managed not to bare his teeth at Wrench, appreciating his efforts, but when the other man offered to help carry her, Bastian simply gathered his mate into his arms and let Wrench and Jenny handle the doors and blankets.

  As he settled her limp form into the bed, he smoothed her dark hair back over the pillow and lay a single kiss on her perfect forehead. Everything was right with the world, now that she was here.

  Chapter 5

  Saina felt better the second time she woke.

  The pain in her shoulder was considerably less, and she didn’t feel as weirdly adrift and weak as she had before.

  She was also in a much more comfortable bed, big fluffy pillows under her head. A tropical print quilt was pulled up to her shoulders, and she found that the distasteful lingerie had been replaced by a simple, comfortable sundress.

  “You’re awake!”

  A lovely, curvy black woman was sitting at a desk next to the bed, holding a sheaf of papers open in a manila folder. She looked friendly enough, but Saina knew better.

  Saina struggled upright, as the woman rose and tried to stop her. “You’re hurt, stay still!”

  But being upright gave Saina more breath, and she opened her mouth and sang a few notes of a love song lullaby.

  “Easy nights,

  Northern lights,

  Open your heart,

  The lines on your chart…”

  The woman looked at her quizzically. “I’m Jenny,” she said, completely unmoved. “You shouldn’t be sitting up, but you do have a lovely voice.”

  Saina blinked at her. Her gift didn’t tend to be as strong with women, but she hadn’t met a person yet that a simple sleep song had so little impact on. Jenny didn’t even yawn.

  “I’m Saina,” she said uncertainly, abandoning her plan to put Jenny to sleep and try to escape. Her shoulder hurt wickedly. “Thank you?”

  “You should lay back,” Jenny scolded her. “You don’t want to open the wound again. Saina is such a beautiful name!”

  “It’s better,” Saina lied, but she let Jenny fluff her pillows and tip her back onto them. “Saina is Hindi for princess,” she added.

  “We’ll let Bastian be the judge of how much better you are,” Jenny told her, unconvinced. “He’ll be so happy to see you awake.”

  “Bastian,” Saina tasted his name in her mouth. “He’s the lifeguard with the golden eyes?”

  Jenny’s smile was sparkling and oddly smug. “Yes. He found your boat sinking in the middle of a storm, lucky for you.” She had an easy Californian accent, and a kind smile.

  Saina didn’t trust it for a moment.

  She looked around the room. She was in a small, beautifully appointed bedroom with big French doors opening out onto a little porch. “Where am I?” There were, at least, plenty of exits.

  “This is Shifting Sands Resort,” Jenny explained. “A shifters-only vacation resort off the coast of Costa Rica.”

  Saina’s hands made fists in the tropical quilt. “Shifters?” she asked, as innocently as she could manage. It was unnerving not to have her music to simply make this woman automatically like and trust her. Maybe the pain of her injury was making it work incorrectly.

  Jenny gave her an amused look. “You wouldn’t be healing that quickly if you weren’t one, too,” she said. “You don’t have to hide who you are here.”

  Saina gazed back in consternation, not admitting anything. “What kinds of shifters?” she asked suspiciously.

  “All sorts,” Jenny said with a laugh. “I’m an otter shifter.” She said it with wonder, as if she weren’t used to the idea yet. “My mate is a lynx shifter. My sister is a wolf, and her mate is a bear.”

  Saina wondered what Bastian was, with those bottomless golden eyes, but didn’t want to ask. “Your… mate?” she asked, instead.

  Jenny’s face took a soft, distant look. “For shifters, there is one person, one perfect mate. They know each other at once, as if their souls recognize each other.”

  It sounded lovely. And romantically ridiculous. Saina wasn’t even sure she believed in love.

  “You… don’t know about mates?” Jenny added, coming fully back to the conversation.

  Saina refrained from scoffing that it sounded like a fairy tale. “I’d heard of them,” she admitted. She didn’t have to add that she’d never thought they existed. It seemed more likely that Jenny was under some other kind of magical influence.

  Jenny’s eyes danced, like she had a delightful secret that she wanted very much to share. “I’ll let Bastian tell you more,” she said, gathering her papers. “I know he’ll want to know that you’re awake.”

  When she left, Saina slipped carefully out of the bed. The view from her porch was out over the resort, the roofs of other little buildings like the one she was in spread out below her. There was jungle to her right, ocean before her, and just visible through the trees to her left, a gleaming white fortress that must be the restaurant and bar. The sun was just beginning to set, turning the sky gold and rose.

  Saina leaned against the deck railing and closed her eyes to listen to the quiet sounds of distant ocean.

  “Saina?”

  His voice gave her a crazy little thrill to her toes, and Saina knew before she turned that her lifeguard had returned.

  He was standing in the doorway, looking nervous and excited. Saina was equal parts relieved that her magic wasn’t entirely gone, and surprised. The effects of her song should have faded away by now, but he was clearly still utterly besotted with her. It made her feel unexpectedly guilty.

  “Jenny said your name was Saina,” he said, adoration in the way he said it. Then he scowled in concern. “And you should be in bed!”

  “I’m fine,” she said, with a practiced silky smile. “You don’t have to worry for me.”

  His scowl melted. “Let me at least check it,” he breathed.

  Saina sat at the edge of the bed and let him peel the medical tape back and check under the swaths of bandage that covered her shoulder front and back. His gentle touch was surprisingly disturbing to her calm, sending tingles
of sensation through her skin. Had she managed to enchant herself with her injury-addled song?

  “Well?” she asked, looking up into his face.

  The eye contact obviously unbalanced him. He gazed down at her and stammered, “It’s, it’s, looking, coming along nicely. Healing up well. It looks… good.”

  Saina made herself smile at him. Whatever the reason, she would have one unquestionable ally here, then. She had to remind herself firmly that this was in her nature, that she ought to be grateful for this unexpected enchantment, not feel guilty about it. Even though she didn’t understand how she had managed to cast an enchantment like this at all. It was nothing like her usual siren magic.

  Chapter 6

  Saina.

  Even her name was beautiful, as lovely and unique as she was. Her voice had a faint British-Indian accent.

  Standing against the sunset, she was a dark silhouette, with long, loose hair to the middle of her back. She was neither short nor particularly tall, with lush curves in all the right places. Lydia’s dress was flattering on her, a swish of embroidered white fabric to her knees, and Bastian wanted nothing more than to peel her out of it, lay her down on his hoard and claim her outright.

  He wrestled his dragon back, checking her bandages, and was happy to find that her wounds were healing more swiftly than he’d expected.

  “You must be hungry,” he said, once he’d taped it all carefully back on, every electric touch tantalizing and tempting.

  “I’m famished,” Saina said, as if it hadn’t occurred to her before.

  His dragon was pleased with the idea of feeding her, but Bastian doubted she would want the cow carcass that he suggested.

  “There’s a buffet,” Bastian said swiftly. “The best food. All gourmet. Chef is world-class, you won’t be disappointed.”

  His dragon suggested feeding Chef to her if she found his food in any way lacking.

  I doubt she’s a cannibal, Bastian said chidingly.