“Did you know the Imperial Order space army killed her family?” I thunder. “We wiped out millions of Earth people. This regime is rotten to the core, Uncle Mirodag. I think you know more about that than you’re admitting.”
“Stop trying to distract me from the real issues. You’re a loser, Jalton. You can’t handle politics any more than you can handle your own life. And you’re not taking a terrorist anywhere.”
"She is coming with me," I repeat. “You think you’re going to stop her leaving? You’ll have to go through me first.”
And just as my uncle’s guards all raise their guns, I shift.
In lion form, I leap at my uncle and shove him over. We crash to the floor.
16 Corby
Jalton has shifted to his lion shape before I can even register what's going on. It takes everyone else by surprise too. One minute, he's standing there with a stormy look on his face. Then suddenly he's a lion.
Would I ever get used to having a friend who turned into a lion every five minutes? I'm not sure. Plus even asking myself the question is stupid. It means I'm ignoring the feeling inside that tells me I want to be more than friends with him.
But Jalton's a prince, for crying out loud. If we even make it out of here alive, he's not exactly going to keep in touch. Sure, he has the hots for me, or maybe he likes to try to sleep with every willing woman he meets. Either way, that's not going to be enough to get over our difference in status.
I'm grateful he didn't kill me. I'm super grateful he helped me with the chip, and is fighting for me right now. That's more than I could have hoped for. It has to be enough.
He springs at his bad uncle Mirodag and roars right in his face. Mirodag lies flat on his back, drunk and useless. It's great to see him that way, after everything he put us through.
But that doesn't last long. When he comes to his senses, he shifts too. Of course he does.
And Mirodag’s not a lion. Nope. He's a fricking dragon.
The fuck?
"You didn't tell me your uncle was a dragon," I shriek, as I dart out of the way of a jet of fire. Jalton doesn't answer, because he's busy being a damn lion. And also snapping at his uncle’s scaly throat.
I look around the room wildly, trying to work out what to do for the best. Is there any way I can grab a weapon? My restraints are gone, since Jalton won the game. But I have a feeling trying to waltz on out of here through the front door isn't going to go down too well.
We need to defeat these bastards. That's the only way we're going to leave in one piece. The way Mirodag's blasting out fireballs, we'll be lucky not to leave in an urn.
I notice one guard is distracted, having a conversation on his earpiece. Who knows who's listening in? But I can use this opportunity. Slowly and carefully, I inch toward him. Nobody seems to notice I'm moving.
"That's correct," the guard is saying. He's trying to hold the conversation privately. That's good. It means he's so busy thinking about keeping his chat on the down-low, he's not thinking about the gun he has so carelessly left in an open holster on his hip. Unluckily for him, I'm pretty good at relieving authority figures of their guns.
Mirodag burns a chair to cinders, and a few guards run over with fire extinguishers. I grab the moment.
Slipping my hand down the side of my leg, I very carefully reach over and ease his gun out of its holster.
The guy shifts his weight from one leg to the other, and I freeze. He still hasn't noticed me standing just behind him. That means he also hasn't noticed I'm now holding his gun. I'm trying to keep to his blind spot, so that even if he turns his head, he won't see me in his side vision.
Mirodag swipes one leathery wing, and Jalton is knocked ten feet across the floor. When Jalton gets back to his feet, he roars so loudly it makes me jump. Man, that roar is loud. I want to plug my ears, but I can't risk drawing attention to myself.
The guard whose gun I stole is still talking. I figure there are enough distractions going on right now, and I should be able to make my move.
With a steady motion, I grip the gun and hold it behind my back. It's a pretty standard issue LazerJet 2b, so I should be able to handle it okay. None of its functions will be too fancy for me to recognize. I mean, it's still a hell of a lot better than my own crappy gun, but that's not difficult. A kid's water pistol could go head to head with my old gun, and it’d probably win.
I wait until the dragon is turned to the side, and Jalton is out of the way. Then I aim for the eye. It'll only work if I hit a vulnerable part, and there are precious few of those on a dragon.
Boom. My borrowed LazerJet hits the dragon right on its scaly cheek.
Aw, shit. That's not going to work. He won’t even have felt that. And he's going to be mad as hell when he sees I'm taking potshots at him.
Mirodag turns his mighty head and makes a snarling noise. Puffs of dark gray smoke pop out of his nostrils. He's one badass motherfucker.
Jalton roars again, but Mirodag rears up and extends his wings. The room is big enough for him to go to full extension, but not really enough for him to fly. Luckily for me. I think I'd faint if he divebombed me from an aerial position.
It becomes obvious that Mirodag, the big-ass dragon, is stomping his way toward me. Oh boy.
I hold the gun in front of me with both hands, arms outstretched to their full length. I concentrate on keeping it aimed steadily at Mirodag. It's hard, because my hands are trembling and my palms feel sweaty.
Focus. You can do this.
Jalton leaps on Mirodag's wing and drags it downward with his teeth. Mirodag snarls and puffs black smoke into the air. With one shake of his wing, he dislodges Jalton and knocks him into a table and chairs.
I want to follow Jalton with my eyes and make sure he's okay. But Mirodag has turned his attention back to me know. I know I can't take my gaze off him. If I do, he'll have me at a disadvantage.
I'm just one tiny human, next to this monstrous dragon. What can I do?
This.
As Mirodag reaches me, I throw myself down on the floor underneath his massive body and lie on my back, with his legs either side of me. At point blank range, I shoot the gun right into his soft belly. It's the only part of him that's vulnerable to LazerJet fire, apart from inside his mouth and his eyeballs, and he wasn't about to let me get to those.
Mirodag lets out an almighty cry. It's bloodcurdling and loud. For a moment, I feel like the walls might just fall down around us, destroyed by the wall of sound coming out of this dragon.
He stumbles, and I suddenly realize I'm in danger. If he collapses on me, I'm doomed.
Before I can get myself out of that space between his belly and the floor, I feel myself being dragged along the floor by the hair. I squeal. It hurts like hell.
I slide a few feet across the floor, and then a wet nose turns me over. Jalton the lion picks me up by grabbing the fabric of my onesie in his teeth. He runs with me like that, like he's picking up a lion cub by the scruff of its neck. I shut my eyes and fold my arms across my chest, because the bouncing is too much.
We reach the outside of the building just in time to hear an almighty crash.
Jalton shifts back to man shape, in an instant. Naked man shape, of course. I've never seen such a welcome sight in my life.
"That was my uncle," he says, only mildly out of breath from dragging me out of a building with his jaws. "He must have fallen. Now's our chance to get away."
We run to find our ship, hand in hand. My heart is kicking down my ribcage, but I'm happy. We made it this far. Now all we need to do is get back into open space. Even if the Imperial Order has blacklisted us and we can't land anywhere, we'll just fly somewhere else. We can tackle anything together.
"Now what?" I puff, as we catch a glimpse of the ship a few hundred feet away.
"We fly away, Commander," Jalton says, with a sidelong grin. "Unless you wanted to stay and offer a bandaid to my uncle?"
"Uh no, I'm good. Let's go."
We jump
on the ship. The doors are barely closed before we leap on each other and kiss like we'll never stop.
17 Corby
Jalton struggles with the fastenings on my onesie for a moment. Then he growls, and just tears the thing off me. I don't even care. I want to feel his skin on mine, more than anything else in the world right now.
"Autopilot on," he calls out to the ship's computer. "Take us home."
He lifts me up in the air, still kissing me. We're moving, but I can't see where, because our lips can't separate. Not for anything. His warm, firm kiss feels like a lifegiving force. I couldn't walk away from this for all the money in the world. This is the best thing in the world. His kiss, his touch... right now, it is everything.
I feel myself being set down on a counter or something, and turn to see. It's the flight desk. He slides my panties off me with one flick of his mighty hand, and I flinch for a second when the coldness of the flight desk touches the warmth of my skin.
He pushes his body between my legs and kisses me deeper, harder, more insistently. His tongue searches my mouth just as his hand colonises my body, taking every part of me as he wants to. His touch is hypnotic. I crave more.
Then he pulls away from the kiss. I whimper for the loss, because he needs to be kissing me. That is the only logical thing that can happen. It is so right.
He ignores my wordless protest, and instead begins to trail kisses down my body. I can't help draping myself backward, leaning my head on the wall of the ship. My skin crackles and fizzes as his hot kisses turn to little licks and tiny nips.
"You're mine, Corby Frayne," he growls, in his deep gravel voice.
I can't argue with him. Right now, I'd agree to anything he said. Although I have a feeling I'll probably agree even in the cold light of day, without his demanding mouth all over me..
He kisses the top of my thigh, and I gasp. He's so close to me, in such an intimate way. I should feel a little embarrassed.
I'm so not embarrassed. Hell, I want him there, and then some.
He shoves my legs apart, and I already know what he's going to do. I close my eyes in anticipation. I'm so tense that when his tongue laps at me, I almost scream.
It's too good. I can't stand it.
But I need it. I need him.
He spends just enough time down there for my legs to buckle, so he hitches them over his shoulders. This lifts my hips off the flight desk a little. His hands are there now, squeezing and caressing me everywhere while his talented mouth does what he's so good at.
"Oh... my... God..." And I'm there. It's eyewatering. Mindblowing. I yowl like a real wildcat as I explode into a million pieces. At least, that's what it feels like.
He waits for the shuddering to subside, then he pulls away. I burble something incoherent, and he pulls me up by the waist.
"It's time you received punishment for your crimes, Corby Frayne," he murmurs. His voice is dark chocolate and fire.
"Punishment?" I say, only just able to string words together again.
He stands me up, then flips me around. Grabbing my hair in his fist, he pushes me forwards onto my elbows on the flight desk.
Oh hell yes.
"Forty-one violations, I believe," he says, and I shiver to think of what's coming next. "Unless you want to protest your innocence."
His hand strokes my ass, and then delivers one stinging slap. I gasp.
"Nope. Guilty as charged," I say, turning to look at him over my shoulder. His hungry stare makes me shiver again. And the size of his hardness makes my jaw drop. Surely that can't be real? But it is. It really is.
"Guilty. Yes. That's what I thought."
Another spank to my bare ass, and I'm smarting. Warmth pools inside me.
"Mmm. I'm a career criminal. Show me who's boss."
Spank. "I'm the boss. Don't forget that."
"Yes sir," I say, in my sassiest voice. "Whatever you say, sir."
That earns me another spank. I'd hoped it would.
"Please sir," I whisper. "I want more."
"More?" His voice is ragged with desire. I know he’s drinking in the sight of me, bent over the flight desk with my ass in the air. I feel like I might come again just thinking of what could happen next.
"Yes. More."
He presses his hardness against the back of my legs. "Are you sure?"
"Oh God, yes."
He fumbles for a moment but I don't hear the rustling of a condom wrapper or anything. But I turn to see him smoothing something over himself. I guess Imperial Order protection is super advanced. Whatever. I just need him now, before I melt into a pool of lust.
He presses himself to me again and I push back against him.
"Now," I beg. "Now."
He doesn't need to be asked again. He grips my hips and pushes a little way inside me, and I yelp. He's huge, and it feels like I can't take him. But he slows way down.
"Are you okay?" He dips his head to my neck and kisses it tenderly.
"Yes," I say. "I think we might have to go easy."
"We have all the time in the world." He strokes me all over, reaching around to gently cup my breasts. Slowly, gradually, he eases himself inside me again. I relax, and take him all.
We start to move again, in perfect synchronization. Before long, he pulls out and I yelp once more in protest.
He spins me around so we're facing one another.
"I need to see your face," he says. "I want to look you right in the eye while you come." And then he lifts me up and slides me down onto him, almost all the way.
He's holding me up in the air, rocking me back and forth, and it's incredible. He's so big and strong, and he seems to be holding me effortlessly. At one point, he holds me with just one arm, and threads the other through my hair to pull my head to his. We kiss lazily, savoring the feeling, until it just gets too much for me.
I throw my head back and moan, as the waves of bliss cascade out from my core. He responds by pushing in deeper, harder, and holding me still while he reaches his climax. When he hits that spot, he roars just like the lion he is.
We half-collapse together onto the pilot seat, damp with sweat and out of breath. He holds me close, and I rest my head on his solid shoulder.
"I'd like you to meet the rest of my family," he says at last. Just like that, out of nowhere.
"Are they all murderous dragons?"
"Not all. Some are jaywalking pandas." I lift my head to look quizzically at him, and he smiles. "Just kidding. None of them are murderous. Or pandas. Apart from Uncle Mirodag. Who isn't a panda. But is murderous. You know what I mean."
"You're a-dork-able. Of course I know what you mean." I kiss his forehead and rest back on his shoulder. "If I'm nice to your dad, do you think he can get me out of the forty-one traffic violations rap?"
Jalton laughs, and holds me closer still. "I'm pretty sure we can let those slide, Wildcat."
"And not just because you're screwing me?"
"Present continuous tense?"
"Excuse me?"
"Screw-ing? Not screwed?" He looks triumphant. "That means you're planning to do it again."
“Again? Well, I thought I'd let you recover first," I say, with a theatrical wink. "But any time you're ready to go again, you just tell me."
He grabs my hand and pulls it to his lap. The evidence is right there.
"Oh my," I say. "I'm going to need one hell of a nap when we get home to your planet."
"I'll join you," he says, and kisses the sass right off me.
18 Jalton
Corby pours another glass of clear water. ”You think Tollajif had time to send a copy of the documents to your account before he was killed?"
I finish my mouthful of space food and shrugc. "I don't see how he could have. There wasn't much time between our meeting him, and finding him dead. Sadly, I think we might not have the evidence we need to really bring the criminal element of the Imperial Order out into the open."
"That's a damn shame." Corby dabs the corner of
her mouth with her napkin. "So what are we going to do? If you're sure Mirodag survived the gunfire, he's going to tell your dad a pack of lies. It's his word against ours."
"Unfortunately, yes." I polish off the last mouthful of my food, and set down my eating utensil. "Perhaps we should consider not going home."
"What? But where else would we go?"
"Anywhere. It doesn't matter, so long as we're together."
Corby smiles at my matter-of-fact statement. "Cute. You can't check your account from the ship?"
"No chance of that. The account I used carries the highest level of Imperial Order security. I can only open messages in person, back in the palace.”
"So there's no way of knowing if Tollajif got the message across without going to your home planet? And if we get there and we don't have Tollajif's evidence, Mirodag will spin lies about us and we'll need to run for our lives?"
"That's about it, yes."
Corby is silent for a moment. Then she looks up at me, frowning. "You want to just run?"
"I am prepared and willing to do that if you wish it."
"What do you wish, Jalton?"
He takes my hand. "I think we should go home to the palace and check in person. And take our chances. My father my not even believe Mirodag. Even if he does, he will probably allow us time to leave again. It would be most unlike him to take hasty action."
"He sounds nice."
"He is. Admittedly, he's going to be a little annoyed I'm not marrying his choice of woman, but he'll understand in the end."
I look down at my tattered, dirty fingernails. Yeah. Not quite the princess type. "I don't want to annoy your dad."
"You won't. Just be your authentic adorable self. That's all you ever need to do.”
"Okay. That, I can handle.”
We curl up together on a wide sofa in back, and Corby dozes off on my chest. My heartbeat must be loud in her ear. I don't know how sensitive human hearing is, however. Perhaps it is only a faint tapping to her. Impossible to know.
A Shift in the Sky_In the Stars Romance Page 11