Fire In His Spirit: A Post-Apocalyptic Dragon Shifter Romance

by Dixon, Ruby

  Do we trust it?

  I will follow your lead, but I will never trust a Salorian. If he gives me the chance, I will destroy him. Hatred tinges his thoughts, and I realize that just because Vaan's been quiet, it doesn't mean he's calm. He's on the verge of cracking, the storm clouds roiling at the back of his mind.

  Focus on me, I tell him. Focus on my scent.

  I am. I will not disappoint you.

  You never do, I tell him warmly. Do you want to leave? Say the word and we can go now.

  Irony laces his emotions. You think he will let you go now without insisting you hear what he has to say? The big dragon looming over me snorts to punctuate the thought.

  All right, good point. Let me take the lead, though. He can't touch my mind, and if it becomes too much for you, let me know.

  I am not shifting forms, he warns me.

  I don't expect you to, Vaan. You stay just as you are.

  With a low growl, he releases his claws from their tight grip on my waist. I don't move out of his hold just yet. "Truce, like you said," I tell the Salorian. "I won't try any bullshit if you don't."

  "Fair enough. Please, come sit." He gestures at the table of refreshments under the airy, pretty tent down below.

  Vaan? I ask, but I don't even have to. A split second later the dragon's scooped me up in his claws again and then descends the side of the building with a heavy, solid thump that shakes several roofs nearby. The soldiers look alarmed, clutching their guns as Vaan slinks forward—well, about as much as a whale can “slink” through shallow water. He's not stealthy in the slightest, but he makes it very, very clear that he is Not To Be Fucked With. A low warning growl rumbles in his chest, and everyone seems to shrink back except for the Salorian.

  He looks bored, flicking a bit of dirt off of one pale sleeve.

  Vaan moves forward next to the table and gently sets me down by one of the chairs. The Salorian moves across from us, and he studies me for a moment. "You're wearing a gun."

  "Your men have guns," I point out.

  "If I send them away, will you put aside yours?"

  I blink. "Sure."

  He turns and looks at the men. "Away. All of you."

  "Sir—"

  "Do you think your gun will protect me more than the dragons covering this city?" His lip curls with arrogant displeasure. "Be gone."

  The men nod and shoulder their weapons. "Yes, sir." The one that must be in charge looks at the others, gestures for them to leave, and is the last one to file out.

  42

  GWEN

  Now it's just me and the Salorian, with Vaan lurking behind me. We're outside, but the streets have gotten very quiet, and I wonder if people disappear when the Salorian appears—or if they were already scared off by the soldiers. Whatever it is, we're alone.

  "Better?" the Salorian asks, and then crosses his arms, waiting.

  I…guess? I take my gun off my belt and then toss it down on the table between us. "Happy?"

  He gives a brief nod and then turns, glancing behind him. A moment later, the door opens. I stiffen, expecting it to be one of the guards—and that I'm caught in a trap.

  Instead, it's a woman. She's about my age, with perfect skin a few shades darker than mine and a sweep of long, dark hair. She wears a pale yellow sundress that sets off her complexion, and her hair's pulled back in a high, twisted ponytail. She gives me a wary smile that seems tinged with apology.

  Azar puts his hand out, and the woman puts hers in it and moves to his side.

  She smells like him, Vaan tells me, and there is shock in his thoughts. She is his mate.

  "Sit, my dear. It is safe now," he tells the woman. She does so, her movements delicate and elegant despite her clear discomfort at being here. I notice that Azar doesn't let go of her hand as he sits her down next to him and then takes a seat himself, flourishing his robes as he does.

  I remain silent, because I don't know what to make of this. Some of the pieces drop into place, though. He wanted me to take my gun off not for his safety, but for hers.

  A mate makes him vulnerable, I tell Vaan. If we can get her, we can use her against him.

  You would do such a thing? My dragon sounds a little shocked. Mates are sacred.

  So are brains, and he had no problem taking over yours, I reply. But we'll wait and see how things go. I clasp my hands in my lap and study the two of them. "So what's this about?"

  "Business so quickly?" Azar reaches forward and plucks a bit of fruit from the bowl. Plums, ripe with the heat of summer. They look gorgeous and refreshing in the heat, and as I watch, he takes a knife and cuts into one, a fat slice practically bursting with juices as he does. My mouth waters even as he looks up. "Ah, where are my manners? Do you wish for refreshments?"

  "No," I say quickly.

  "Refusing hospitality? One would almost think you expect me to do you harm." His smile is thin and cold.

  "Azar, stop." The woman bites her lip and glances over at the Salorian. "She doesn't have any reason to trust you. I'd think the exact same thing in her position." She takes one of the glasses—crystal, lovely and unbroken—and rubs it down with a cloth, then pours water from the pitcher into it. The pitcher itself is covered with condensation, which means the liquid inside is cold, and my thirst grows almost unbearable at the sight. It's been so long since I had an actual cold drink. This guy is subtle with his torture, but effective. As I fantasize about the drink, the woman takes a sip, her gaze on me. Then she sets the glass down on the table and pushes it toward me. "It's safe, I promise."

  I hesitate anyhow.

  She nods understanding, her lips curled into a tiny smile before she picks up the glass again and drinks once more. She picks up a wedge of cheese from her plate, but before she can eat it, Azar offers her a slice of fruit. She hesitates, then leans over and takes it from him with her lips.

  He's feeding her. This is so not what I expected.

  He is tending to his mate, Vaan agrees.

  So he's showing off, then? But I don't know if that's the reason. She's here at his side, of course, but the burning looks he keeps shooting her don't seem to be the actions of someone who's just parading around a friend. He truly does look obsessed with her, and she looks…uncomfortable.

  “This is Melina,” Azar says after a moment. “I am Azar.”

  “We know who you are,” I tell him, then add, “Gwen. Vaan.”

  His smile is unsettling. “Oh, I know Vaan.”

  Asshole.

  “Stop, Azar. They don't trust you," Melina murmurs to him. She seems unhappy with his reactions.

  "Of course they don't. You don't trust me, either." His smile is twisted with bitterness as he carves another wedge of plum off of the one he's holding and feeds it to her. "If we are waiting to trust one another, we will be here for months."

  "We just want to know what you're up to," I say.

  "We? You and your drakoni lover?" He arches an eyebrow. "Or do you speak for more?"

  I wonder if I should say anything. I hesitate.

  "Oh, come now. I know there are more of you bonding with drakoni males. I have run into a few myself. They're certainly easier to tame that way."

  "Is that why you and Melina are together, then? So you can be tamed?"

  Melina chugs water from her cup, glancing away. Azar's nostrils flare and both of them look hugely uncomfortable. I realize a moment later that Melina doesn't want to be here. Or rather…if she does, she's not wanting me to know that. Is she ashamed of hooking up with the enemy? Doing it for the common good? Maybe that's it. She's sacrificing herself for the others in Fort Dallas.

  Maybe she’s trapped in an entirely different way and is with Azar because someone has to keep him under control. I feel a wave of sympathy for her and give her an understanding smile. "Sorry, that was crappy of me."

  "It was a magnificent deflection, however," Azar acknowledges, putting down the fruit and wiping his hands with a napkin. "So, don't tell me how many of you there are, t
hen. I can guess. Enough of you that you needed a committee to send a representative, and few enough that you can't take my fort on your own." He looks over at Melina and she stares out at her surroundings, ignoring him. He turns back to me. "You're not one of the locals, though, are you? I remember your drakoni friend's mind. He's a strong one."

  I feel a tremor of apprehension. Is he going to keep lobbing questions at me until I break down and answer? "Just tell me what you're up to and we can finish this meeting."

  Do not let him rattle you, my mate. He has not probed again. He will not touch my thoughts while you are here, and I am with you. I feel his big body shift behind me, his head lower so he can watch the Salorian with an angry, intent gaze. Let him say the wrong word and I will tear him limb from limb.

  And then what? I ask. What happens to the dragons he's holding hostage?

  They will be free.

  Free and right over the city. It'll be a bloodbath—and we're inside it. For now we have to wait, love. It's a chess game between us and we just need to think one move ahead. I send him a visual of a chess board so he can understand what I'm referring to.

  They might be better off dead than under his control, Vaan says stubbornly.

  Yes, well, I don't want to be the one that makes that distinction for them. I won't be.

  "What I am up to," Azar echoes in that same flat voice. "Is that what you two are discussing so intently right now?" He arches an eyebrow at me, a very human characteristic that makes my hackles rise.

  I force a smile to my lips. "Are we here to snipe at each other, or are we going to discuss why you felt it was so urgent to call a truce?"

  "Let's quit dancing around it and just tell them, Azar," Melina says. "They're not comfortable here and I don't blame them. I know you wanted to make this a big thing, but let's skip the food and drink and niceties and get down to brass tacks. Just tell them. Please."

  He studies Melina for a long moment, and then his jaw tightens. "Fine." His gaze flicks back to where I sit with Vaan directly behind me. "You ask why I seek a truce? It is because we will survive what is coming if we all work together. An army is stronger than a series of individuals. That is why."

  I put up a hand. "First of all, you already have an army here, and that's something we need to talk about. You can't just snag as many dragons—drakoni—as you want."

  "Can't I? I am Salorian. They are born to serve me."

  "That's not how it works in this world. People can't own other people!"

  "Really?" He sneers. "Tell that to all the puling, sniveling humans who are happy to live under my thumb in exchange for safety. Tell my men who hand out food that these people do not belong fully to me. They would rather sleep as slaves than take a risk on their freedom."

  "Just because you can do it doesn't make it right!"

  Melina looks away, gazing at nothing. Her mouth is a thin line and I can tell this is probably a conversation she's had with Azar many times before, all to no avail.

  "How else would you propose I defend myself?" Azar narrows his eyes at me.

  "Defend yourself? From what? No one's attacking you! No one's ever attacked you first." I spread my hands wide. "If you've ever been harassed or attacked, it's because it's retaliation. People are just trying to survive. That includes your people, too! The drakoni are lost—"

  "The drakoni are not my people," Azar says in a cold, cold voice. He gets to his feet, chair scraping behind him.

  "Please," Melina says, jumping up and putting her hands on his arm. "Wait. Please."

  To my surprise, he actually waits. The look he gives Melina is full of longing, and my heart squeezes despite myself. This is a man that's miserable, I realize. He's desperately in love with Melina, and I don't think it's returned.

  "You said you would try," she tells him in a soft voice. "It can't go on like this. Please." And she rubs her thumb on his arm.

  His eyes flicker and then he straightens his robes. "Fine." He puts his hand out and remains utterly still until Melina puts her hand back in his. Then he sits down once more.

  Melina sits, too. The look she gives me is pleading. "I know you don't agree with his methods. I don't either. But please listen to what he has to say, all right? It really is important."

  Vaan? I automatically reach for my dragon's thoughts, because we're in this together.

  We are here. We might as well listen. His breath whuffs on my back. I have to admit I am finding it amusing to see a Salorian brought low by a mate. They do not normally take them.

  Then how do they have children? Actually, you know what, I don't even want to know, because now I'm picturing Azar having sex and I don't want to. I shake my head as if to clear it.

  "There is a threat," Melina reassures me. She glances between me and Azar repeatedly. "It sounds hard to believe, but years ago, if you would have asked me if the world was going to be destroyed by dragons, I would have laughed at you. So just hear us out, all right?"

  I don't miss that “us” in there, and neither does Azar. He gives her another fiercely possessive look and his hand tightens on hers. "I prefer to keep a low profile in this new world of yours," he says, speaking to me once more. "I have read many of your books and studied many of your films. In all of this, I have learned that mankind does not appreciate intelligence or power." He gives me a sardonic look of amusement. "They value pretty things instead. So if I am to survive, it is far wiser for me to live quietly. The drakoni I have captured are a necessity."

  Necessity my ass. "Because…?"

  He glances at Melina, then continues. "Salorians are very sensitive to other minds. We can control and touch other consciousnesses from a very long distance. I believe you know this to be true, seeing as how your friend and I"—he nods at Vaan—"first met when you were some ways away from here. I have touched his mind, and I have touched…others."

  "Others?" I prompt. "Other drakoni? Other Salorians?"

  "Others…through the gate." His face looks grave, without the mocking arrogance, and that sends a chill through my spine. He gestures at the sky—blue and intense with the heat of the cloudless day. "When your foolish people ripped a hole in the sky, they tore us from our world into yours. Well, it seems that whatever door is there is still open, and we are not the only ones aware of it."

  I blink at him, trying to take this in. "So what, more people from other worlds are coming through?"

  "Ah, humans. You think whatever comes through will be human? Will think like you do? So very arrogant." He shakes his head and falls silent.

  Melina leans forward, her gaze intent on me. "Azar has dreams. He wakes up from them speaking strange, gibberish tongues and they will not let him rest. Whatever it is that's trying to come through, it's not human. Not at all."

  "So…aliens."

  She makes an exasperated sound. "You think I brought you here because he's afraid of little green men?"

  So she brought us here? Interesting. Vaan’s curiosity pings.

  I caught that, too, I tell Vaan. "I still haven't exactly figured out why you have brought us here."

  "Because something big is coming through that gate. It's a massive, open wound to other dimensions, and sooner or later, something's going to get curious enough to come through. If it's what is plaguing Azar at night, we're all in trouble." Melina's expression is intense. "This is no longer a you and me problem or a Fort Dallas problem. This is an everyone problem."

  Azar touches his pale, pale brow, and I notice for the first time that there are shadows under his colorless eyes. "I can extend my powers a fair distance. More, if there are friendly minds to latch onto, or minds I have touched in the past. Somewhere back in our world, your friend was once invaded by Salorians, which is why he's so very easy to tap into."

  Foul mind-eater. Vaan growls a low warning, but when I reach up, he drops his enormous muzzle against my hand.

  "The greater the distance, the more of a strain it is for me to keep them tied to me. It's why you were able to free your d
rakoni from my grip so easily."

  I smile, because we both know that he tried to snag Vaan just a short time ago and failed. "Get to the point."

  "The mind that has touched mine from the other side is…like nothing I have felt before." He rubs his brow, as if it aches even now to think about it. "It is beyond strong and powerful, and it does not think like humans or drakoni or even Salorians. And even from this great a distance, it is staggeringly strong. If it gets here, it could destroy what is left of this world. The drakoni are already fragile in mind. If whatever has been reaching out to me crashes through that gate into this world, it could turn them into gibbering, mindless corpses."

  I feel a sick clench in my gut. "But the drakoni who've been turned back—"

  "The ones with mates, you ask? So selfless, willing to sacrifice the rest of the world as long as she gets her man." Azar's mouth twists in a smirk as he picks up Melina's glass of water and drinks from it.

  I glare at him, because that comment hit far closer to the mark than I wanted it to. "It was just a question."

  Melina looks grave. "I know it sounds crazy, but I've felt these things in my head, too, through him. They're like…demons or something. Or just one big demon. I don't know. All I know is that if it comes through, I think we're all fucked. I don't think anyone's going to last for long. We need to be ready to attack it, or we need to figure out how to close the gate."

  "Close the gate?" I shake my head, incredulous. "We don't even know how they freaking opened it. No one does, or they wouldn't have done it. How the hell are we supposed to close it?"

  "That's the problem," she says, and her worried expression matches mine. "And that's why we need to be ready if something comes through. Because until we figure out how we—or if we even can—close it, we're all vulnerable."

  My mouth goes completely dry.

  I will protect you, love. Nothing will harm you as long as I am breathing.

  Yeah, but that's part of the thing I'm worried about, I tell him. If what they're saying is true…

  Salorians lie to please themselves.