by Riley Storm
“Is that a…bad…thing?” Rann asked slowly when it became clear that she was done speaking for the moment.
“No? I don’t know,” she said, shaking her head.
“Would you prefer if they’d hated me? That doesn’t seem very fun,” he added.
Gayle gave him a dull stare. The humor wasn’t welcome. “In all honesty, I think I would have just preferred they hadn’t met you at all!”
“Oh,” Rann said, swaying backward at her words, his face closing off. “Got it.”
“Wait,” she said, holding up a hand. She’d hurt him with those words. “I just meant that I wasn’t ready for the conversation I had to have with my parents. Not in that manner. I’d only given my mom the basic version about Mikey and me. That we’d split up. Then, she comes two days later and finds a strange man in my house? One that I’m not inviting to stick around, who I tried to sneak out of the house? Do you have any idea how embarrassing it is to tell your parents that your boyfriend left you for your best friend, a woman they’ve known and adored for years?”
Gayle shook her head, sniffling hard, fighting back tears. She did not want to cry in public, but the emotions of the past few days were all starting to wear on her.
“No, I don’t,” Rann said coolly. “I get it.”
She frowned. “You do?”
“Yeah. Listen, I should start unloading the truck, getting the stuff out.”
He turned and walked away without another word, and Gayle slumped. She’d hurt him with her words but also the implied meaning behind them, where she’d effectively told him she wished he wasn’t in her life.
But I was just telling the truth. Wasn’t I? I don’t want him around because I’m not ready or interested in dealing with the million questions that will come with it, from everyone. I need some calm in my life.
Didn’t she?
So why did she feel sick to her stomach at the idea of Rann no longer being in her life?
Chapter Twenty-One
Rann
He dumped another box down, starting another stack next to the ones he’d already piled three high. Although he could have stacked the boxes four or five high, most of the volunteers were either women or older men. He had to ensure they could easily grab the top box.
None of them were six and a half foot tall dragons, after all.
The box wobbled for a moment, its bottom edges damaged by the force of his grip. It was only blankets inside, so he wasn’t worried about breaking anything, though he knew he should be trying harder to contain his anger.
All my fault. I shouldn’t have stayed over Saturday night. I should have known better!
Even better, he should have refrained from kissing her. His usual attitude of going in and taking charge had resulted in a situation where he was no longer welcome in Gayle’s life.
It was impossible for him to deny the hurt he felt that, on some level at least, Gayle wished he was still a stranger to her. That she would prefer she had no idea who he was and that he was not a part of her world. Her comments had dug deeper than he’d expected, and his dragon’s stubborn anger had risen up in defense, trying to shield him from the pain her words had caused.
You can’t make her do anything. You need to relax. This is her choice, and if she says no, you need to accept that. Don’t turn into Prax.
Just thinking the craggy-faced dragon’s name sent a cold spike through Rann, like a bucket of ice-water dumped on his head.
“You need to calm down, buddy,” he said, speaking softly to himself as he marched past the tables of women working. He resolutely ignored Gayle, but he was forced to exchange a brief nod or smile every time Claire’s eyes met his.
Claire was starting to pick up on what was going on, he could tell. The tension between him and Gayle was unmistakable. He was pretty positive that even some of the other women were aware of it. Women he’d never met before in his life.
Gayle was right though. He was only supposed to be her fake boyfriend for a day. A date to her ex-boyfriend’s wedding to her ex-best friend. Nothing else. Just arm candy to make the two jerks jealous.
It had escalated to something more. Hanging out. Kissing. Sexual tension. He couldn’t deny any of that, and much of it was his doing. The desire he felt for her had propelled him closer to her. But damn it all, he knew it wasn’t a one way street. She cared too. It had just happened too fast for her.
It’s not like I have much experience with this. How can I be blamed for not knowing how to do the whole relationship thing?
After all, Gayle was the first woman he’d ever entertained the idea of being something with. It had taken him a lot of thought to realize that’s where his mind was going, where his desires were leading him. But at some point since he’d met her, Rann had stopped looking at other women. His world had boiled down to a short, round, redheaded wonder of a woman that he wanted more than anyone else.
And he still couldn’t figure out when that had happened. Or what it meant.
His dragon stirred inside him. Rann frowned as he tried to interpret its thoughts. They were focused on Gayle, though that didn’t surprise him. She was all his other side could ever think about. It was focused on her with a shocking amount of strength.
It’s almost like it thinks she’s my—
A loud shout from the far side of the tent startled him, catching his attention. A muted rumble of approval followed. Frowning at the noise, his thoughts immediately going to Gayle’s safety, he moved to the front of the tent, away from the rear delivery entrance.
Through the flaps he found himself in another tent. This one had a lineup of people moving through it, each one receiving a kit and having their information taken down. The shout must have come from beyond this one as well.
Rann walked forward, hearing more loud speaking from the far side of the thick canvas but unable to decipher the words over the muted rumble of people inside the tent. The humans parted like seaweed before a shark, and he walked to the edge of the tent.
Something about the way the person was speaking was triggering his curiosity. There was something about it…
“And so my sons and daughters, we must be on watch! We must guard ourselves from the evil that threatens this land! They must not be allowed to spread among us. Instead, they must be sent back! Back to the fiery pits from whence they spawned. Do not succor them, nor shelter nor aid these foul beasts.”
Rann’s eyes flared as he realized he recognized the cadence of the speech now. The rhythm of the sermon was the same as he had heard from the church preacher the other night. Heat flared around him as he prepared himself, not even pausing to wonder how the vampire could be out in the sunlight.
He exited the tent and came to a halt. The man speaking was no more than fifty feet away, and Rann saw it wasn’t the same preacher. This was a younger man, though he possessed the same fervent intensity in his eyes as did the preacher-vampire.
“They claim to be here to save us, but did any of them intervene? Did any of them sacrifice themselves to save that poor woman? Nay! They hid and cowered while she was sent to meet our Lord!”
Rann’s anger stirred, but he wondered about the way the man was speaking. Why bring up the woman and make the vampires out to be evil, as well, if they were trying to convert the Church followers into a new vampire army?
Because, you idiot, the answer is simple. This man is just a hater. He thinks us dragons are sent from Satan, but he fears the vampires are evil too. He doesn’t know what’s really going on.
The entire Church, therefore, wasn’t a front for the vampires. Just the most ardent of their supporters, it seemed.
“No champion of God, no protector of humanity, would stand aside like they did! We must cast them out. We must stop this worship of them and convince our fellows to see the light. To see them in their true form. We must ensure they are not welcome here!”
The preacher was yelling now, and the crowd’s anger was getting stoked along with it. The man was good at his job
, and he was building to a fiery crescendo now. Rann swept his gaze around, noting that the crowd in front of him was only a tiny fraction of those in the tent city. But they were fired up, unlike the others.
If Rann interrupted him, he could probably stop it before it got worse. He was about to take a step forward when a hand closed on his wrist.
“What are you doing?” Gayle hissed. “Don’t go out there. They’re crazy.
He swung around to face her, and the redhead recoiled at his gaze.
“Rann? Rann are you okay? You look like you’re about to do something,” she said nervously.
“These idiots,” he fumed. “They have no idea what they’re talking about. About the dragons. It’s all lies. We didn’t just stand back and let her die. We were out hunting them that very night! We didn’t let her die. Hell, she’s not even dead. Any one of us would have gladly died in her spot,” he snarled, unable to keep his voice down.
Gayle’s eyebrows shot up. “Us?” she asked tentatively.
Rann shrugged. It wasn’t how he’d planned to tell her, but there was no going back now. “Me and my fellow dragons,” he said roughly.
Too roughly. Several heads turned as he spoke.
“Dragon,” one of them said as they stared at him.
The word was quickly repeated throughout the crowd, and heads swiveled to look at him.
“Crap,” he muttered, realizing that the attention of the entire angry mob was now focused on him. “I have to go.”
He started to move away, but it was too late. The preacher turned to face him, his face filling with ‘righteous’ fury.
“There, my friends. One of them stands among us with his chosen bride. A witch, I’m certain. Simply look at her hair. There’s nothing natural about it, the color of fire!”
Rann’s head snapped around to look at Gayle as they realized at the same time the preacher was pointing her out too.
“I hope those shoes are built for running,” he said, grabbing her hand as the mob let loose with an angry growl. “Come on.”
The two of them raced into the tent city, and behind them came an angry swarm of the ‘godly’.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Gayle
“I have to warn you,” she huffed as they darted down another row of tents. “I’m not much of a runner. Like, at all. I don’t know if we’ll be able to outrace them.”
“Just keep those legs moving,” Rann growled.
He was still holding her hand, she noted, ensuring that she could not fall behind even if it had looked like she might.
So far, the fear of the mob chasing them was propelling her along, but Gayle knew her lungs would soon tire and she’d be forced to slow. Athletics had never been her thing, as was obvious to anyone who looked at her.
Yet, given the close confines of the tents and the haphazard stringing of wires and support poles, among other things, she was managing to stay with him. Rann was having a much harder time of it, forced to duck and move aside, his bulk hard-pressed to move swiftly through the cramped tent city.
“They’ll come after me,” he said as there was a fresh roar. “We just have to get out of their sight for a moment. Then you can hide, and it’ll be okay. They’ll forget you.”
“How?” she asked, saving her breath by not using more words.
“I’ll give them a really convincing reason to focus on me,” he rumbled.
Gayle briefly looked up at Rann, noting the stony set to his face. He was furious. Something the crowd said had set him off.
She’d been watching him out of the corner of her eye while she made kits. When he’d abandoned unloading the truck and slowly made his way up front, she’d gone after him, wondering what he was doing and worried that something might be wrong.
More wrong.
When she’d seen him out front, he’d looked ready to march into the Church crowd and start laying people out. She’d never seen him look so furious before, and it had scared her, for a moment. Until she realized it wasn’t directed at her.
“You’re doing great, by the way,” he said as they went on, her breathing growing more labored.
Behind them, the crowd was still close behind. The wordless roar was never ending, and people scattered from their path, wisely choosing to duck back into the nearest tent to avoid whatever was coming through.
Smart move.
Gayle wished she could be like them. But she couldn’t. The mob had fingered her as evil simply for standing next to Rann, and now she raced on, propelled by her short legs and a very healthy dose of adrenaline-infused absolute terror.
“I don’t know how much longer I can do this,” she said as they darted down between two rows of tents. It was a long, straight run, and behind them the fastest of the church crowd appeared, abruptly hot on their tails as her legs began to slow.
People appeared at her side with a howl, and Gayle screamed.
Then, Rann was there, interposing himself between her and the attackers. Someone grunted in her ear. There was a meaty thwack, and out of the corner of her eye she saw several tents fly up in the air in a cloud of fabric and poles before collapsing downward.
Gayle put her head down and forced her little legs to pump even faster.
She was alone for a few seconds, and oppressive fear started to close in. Every space between tents could hold new attackers, people who would want to hurt her. They could come from anywhere.
Her pace faltered.
“Kick it into overdrive, little lady,” Rann barked, and her rear exploded with the distinct pain of being smacked. “Don’t slow down yet.”
“Did you just spank my ass?” she hissed.
But her legs moved faster again.
“I think you can forgive me that little slight,” he said dryly. “This time at least.”
“But what…are we…going to do?” she asked, forced to take several puffs of air to get the sentence out.
Rann didn’t respond immediately, and for a minute she thought he hadn’t heard her. A glance up at his face revealed that wasn’t true. His normally smooth features were screwed up in a tight, unpleasant look.
“What is it Rann?” she asked, her legs near to giving out, despite the fear of being caught.
“Do you trust me?” he asked, turning to look at her, though he ran along smoothly as if he wasn’t affected in the slightest.
“What?” she yelped. “That seems like a big question for right now.”
He grimaced, but his jade eyes never wavered. “Do you trust me?”
Gayle licked her lips, giving the question some thought even as they took a left, crossing one of the major thoroughfares through the tent city and then plunging into the ‘side streets,’ such as they were.
Behind them, the majority of the mob came on, growing closer with every passing second.
Did she trust him?
The answer came to her easily. There was no hesitation in her mind nor in her soul.
“Trust was never the issue,” she puffed. “I trust you Rann. You’ve earned that.”
Unless it comes to sneaking out a window undetected.
But she left off the sarcasm. It wasn’t appropriate for the situation.
“Okay, great.”
Gayle yelped as strong hands grabbed her up into his arms. Then, they started moving fast. She immediately flung her arms around his neck.
“Let go,” he barked, not taking time to explain.
She did, freezing stiffly in his arms as he carried her, leaving the mob behind as he accelerated.
“Crap,” he said suddenly, slowing abruptly.
“What?”
“I was trying to circle us back to the truck, but it seems they caught on. They’re in front of us too.”
The mob must have realized it, because a renewed howl echoed through the otherwise quiet tent city. Everyone who wasn’t after the pair of them had taken shelter.
Wise choice.
“Only one way out now,” he said. “I’m glad you trust
me.”
Gayle was about to ask what he meant by that when Rann spun her up and around his shoulders, until she was sitting on his neck.
“This doesn’t seem like much help?” she asked as the crowd closed in. “What are you going to do now? Can you get us out of here?”
She could imagine the grin on his face when Rann spoke next.
“Just watch me.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Gayle
“HOLY SHIT!” she shrieked as Rann changed.
The ground shot away beneath her as he grew, his body thickening and lengthening. In her peripheral vision, she saw massive wings sprout from behind her, spreading wide, knocking down dozens of tents as they went.
His neck grew longer and wider until she had to straddle it like a horse’s back. Clothing ripped and tore, and scales of deepest, darkest crimson appeared, replacing the pale skin on every inch of his body that she could see.
Horns sprouted down his spine and she had to quickly scoot forward lest one of them end up somewhere unpleasant. But they provided something for her to hold on to, and she gripped the one in front of her tightly.
“Rann what the hell are you doing-ahh!”
Her question turned into a scream of terror as the wings spread wide, and with a mighty flex of legs she could no longer see, they became airborne.
The downdrafts of Rann’s dragon wings flattened tents hundreds of feet in every direction, also sending the mob of Church faithful toppling. There were shouts and screams and all manner of noise, but Gayle barely noticed.
She was too busy clinging to Rann’s back for dear life, trying not to fall off.
And she was still screaming.
“You can stop now,” the dragon said as it turned its head to regard her, the long, sinuous neck easily flexing to allow them to make eye contact.