Arrested by the Dragon: Gay Police Paranormal Romance

by Clearwater, Julian

  “I’m—I’m sorry,” she blurted, shifting the gun a fraction of an inch and firing a bullet into Daryl’s gut. He was thrown back, and the woman leaped to her feet, bolting from the room. He heard a second pair of footsteps following after her, and he thought to make an attempt to follow them. The pain in his stomach, however, was nearly too much to bear. He ripped his shirt open, relieved to see that the bullet was just lodged in his outer layer of muscle. It hurt like a bitch, but the dragon DNA within him had likely attributed to the bullet not penetrating any deeper. He widened the hole, then ripped the bullet free from his flesh before weakly scrambling to his feet.

  If he had been set up, there was a chance they were raiding his house at that very moment. Oh no, he thought. Rick. Fear pulsed through him. He cared for Rick—maybe even loved him—and it would destroy Daryl if anything happened to Rick. He sprinted back to his car. He was surprised to see it still idling, and he leaped inside, sending the car screaming in the direction of his home. In spite of how suspicious he knew it would appear, he made the sirens blare to part any traffic blocking his way. The trip home was recklessly short, and he lurched out of the car before it had truly even stopped once the house was in sight.

  He was relieved to see that his front door was still closed and the place looked unharmed. That meant they hadn’t made it this far yet. With the adrenaline fading from his body, he managed to shuffle to the door, pushing inside.

  “Rick! Rick, we gotta go,” he called out.

  No response. A sinking sensation washed over him, the feeling growing more intense as he saw a note taped to the coffee table.

  I’m putting an end to this. Once and for all.

  ***

  Rick dragged himself down the busy sidewalks, pain radiating throughout his body with every move he made. The pain was not enough to slow him, however, because his heart was cold and numb with resolve. He’d made a decision, a decision that essentially made him a dead man walking. What did it matter if he was in a little pain, if he would be dead in scarcely an hour anyway? In spite everything, however, there was a sense of peace that accompanied his decision.

  Rick had never planned to get kicked out of his house at fifteen years old. He had never intended to end up on the streets. He had never meant to try and rob the biggest crime lord in the city. He had never meant to wind up on Daryl Jameson’s doorstep with a message etched in his skin. He had never meant for any of this to happen.

  Ultimately, he had never meant to fall in love. His fate had been sealed the moment he laid eyes upon Daryl, however. He never for a moment questioned his feelings for the other man, feeling as if it were his destiny. It seemed a bit of a shitshow that his destiny ended up getting him killed at the ripe age of twenty-five, but at least he had known true happiness in his final days. That’s what he would go out remembering—the confidence he held in his feelings for Daryl.

  It wasn’t that Rick wanted to die, not by any means. He very much wanted to live to see those grandkids he had so often pictured. He knew, however, that as long as Jim Hawthorne was alive, Daryl would forever be endangered. That made his decision a rather easy one to make, even though he knew it would end with his death. It would have been nice to tell Daryl how he felt, how much he had cared for him from the moment they met.

  He doubted that Daryl was one to believe in love at first sight. Daryl was much too cynical for that. It would have been nice to try and convince him to believe otherwise. However, it made things much easier this way. If Daryl knew how Rick felt, it would only be more painful when everything wrapped up. Rick had his time to shed a few tears over his life, he didn’t want Daryl to spend any more time than was necessary.

  Forcing himself back to reality, Rick considered the looming vision of Big Jim Hawthorne’s mansion with a sense of trepidation. Even though he was going into this situation with the knowledge that he wouldn’t come out alive, he couldn’t ignore the fear that shook his body. He swallowed a whimper, creeping forward to examine the house for possible break in points.

  He dropped to his hands and knees as he circled around the house. He overheard people talking through an open window directly in front of him. He held his breath, able to make out the familiar voice of Big Jim Hawthorne. The man he was speaking to was entirely unfamiliar, but they seemed to be sharing a laugh over something. He edged closer, able to make out bits and pieces of their conversation.

  “Set up…worked out?”

  “New officer…pretty boy…dead.”

  It was all Rick needed to hear. He nearly collapsed as the implications washed over him, tears streaming down his cheeks as he realized that Daryl was already likely dead. He had no idea where Daryl had been sent, and he had no idea where he could possibly go to attempt to save him. He was helpless. The despair was nearly enough for him to take his own life, but something stopped him. At the very least, he could go out doing something good for this city. He could go out doing what Daryl would have wanted by stopping this crime syndicate.

  Resolved in his decision, he edged closer to the window. He peered inside, watching the men as they walked through the doorway and into another room.

  Rick quietly crawled through the window, keeping close to the floor as he navigated the room. A gun lay on one of the tables, and he picked it up. He knew a little about guns, and he checked to see if it was loaded. It was. He rose to his full height, inhaling a calming breath before cocking the gun.

  The men turned at the sound of the gun cocking, and an overweight man in a police uniform peeked through the door, gun raised. The man started to pull the trigger. Rick immediately fired a bullet between his eyes. He felt sick over taking someone’s life, but it was either that or be killed immediately. Rick had a city to save. A grim sense of satisfaction washed over him as the man dropped to the floor.

  “What the hell,” Big Jim cried out.

  Rick bolted through the doorway with the intent of dropping the other man, if possible. Before he could get past the crooked police officer’s body, however, a bullet pierced his stomach and dropped him as well.

  He hit the ground hard, landing on the body of the man he had just killed.

  “What the hell? Rick? I thought you were dead! You were supposed to be dead,” Big Jim roared, leveling a glare at Mickey.

  Mickey’s hands quaked anxiously, but he kept his gun trained on Rick as Big Jim looked between the two of them.

  “I can’t get good help for shit,” Big Jim complained. “Get out of here, Mickey, you’re lucky I don’t blow your brains out myself.”

  Mickey turned his back, moving to shuffle out of the room. Quick as lightning, Big Jim pulled out his own gun and fired a bullet into the back of Mickey’s skull.

  Rick bit back a gasp.

  Big Jim turned to consider him once more. “What can I say? He was too slow. You, however, well, there’s no sense trying to fool you, is there? You came here ready to die, yeah?” Big Jim grabbed Rick’s shirt collar. He lifted Rick off the ground with one hand and pressed the barrel of his gun to the side of Rick’s head.

  “I have nothing left to lose,” Rick gritted out, a tear spilling down his cheek.

  “Yeah, boy. I guess you don’t. Any last words? Some big manifesto or something?” Big Jim grinned, cocking his gun.

  “Fuck you,” Rick said simply, closing his eyes and resigning himself to his fate.

  Then, the building seemed to explode all around them.

  ***

  The dragon surveyed the scene with a measure of disdain, watching as the fat rat of a man scrambled away from the room. The scent of blood and death assaulted the massive beast’s nostrils, and a sense of panic washed over him as he looked at the men on the floor. He approached carefully, eyes wide with fear. Rick stared up at him, and he could make out the rattling of the Rick’s chest.

  Rick stared deeply into his eyes. “I…I know you. I know those eyes. Holy shit. Daryl…it’s you, isn’t it?”

  Daryl crouched beside him, reaching out to cup his
cheek in a scaly hand. He knew he looked like a freak in this form—he looked half-dragon, half-man. He could speak, and he could walk upright. But he could also fight better, and blow fire. Still, he didn’t want to frighten Rick, the man he loved.

  A tear spilled down Rick’s cheek, and Daryl parted his lips to speak.

  “Wait, wait,” Rick said. “Before you say anything, Daryl, I don’t think I got a lot of time left. There’s something I need to get off my chest.”

  Rick reached out to grab Daryl around the shoulders. He managed to pull himself upright, though it was obvious that the action pained him. Tears spilled down his cheeks, and Daryl couldn’t help but shed a tear as well upon seeing the bad shape Rick was in.

  “Go ahead, Rick. I’m listening,” Daryl said gruffly, resting a hand on the small of Rick’s back. Rick’s weight pressed heavily against him, and it was obvious that Rick was swiftly running out of energy. The life seemed to ebb away from him with every shaky exhale. In spite of everything, Rick managed a smile as he considered Daryl’s scaly visage.

  “A dragon, jeez. I wouldn’t believe it if I didn’t see it with my own eyes…” He trailed off, coughing droplets of blood. “Anyway. I figure I ain’t got much time left, and there’s something I been meaning to tell you.” He cupped Daryl’s cheek in his hand. “Or maybe…maybe it’d be better if I just showed you,” he said weakly, before pressing their lips together in a tender kiss.

  Daryl melted into the embrace, wrapping his arms gently around the other man’s injured form. He parted his lips, and the taste of Rick’s blood on his tongue brought him back to their dreadful reality. He pulled away with some reluctance, crying in earnest now.

  “I love you, Daryl. I have from the moment I first saw you,” Rick said weakly, reaching out to wipe away the other man’s tears.

  “I love you too, you idiot. What were you thinking, coming out here on your own?” Daryl said morosely, pressing another chaste kiss to Rick’s lips.

  “I wanted to be sure you stayed safe, and now. Heh, now, I’m sure you will,” Rick chuckled, blood continuing to spill past his lips. Daryl watched him with a growing sense of dread, realizing that Rick had very little time left.

  He didn’t want to lose Rick, and in most cases, there would be no choice. However, Daryl had done a bit of reading, many years ago when he was still locked in that laboratory. He didn’t know how much dragon he had been imbued with, but he knew what he had the potential to unlock.

  As Rick began to go limp in his arms, Daryl’s decision was made. If there was any chance of saving Rick, he would take it. If there was any chance he had inherited the ability to mate like a dragon, he had to chance it. If what he’d read was true, there was a chance that the act would kill both of them. However, there was no other choice. It was either live with the other man, or die at his side.

  Bringing his wrist to his lips, Daryl bared his teeth and sliced through his own skin. Rick was obviously too far gone to fathom what was happening, and Daryl gently lay him on the ground before holding his bleeding wrist above Rick’s lips. Rick sputtered as the blood flowed into his lips, but Daryl gently rubbed his throat to coax him into swallowing.

  “Trust me, Rick. Just trust me,” he said softly. He wasn’t sure if Rick could understand him, but Rick obligingly swallowed the blood that spilled into his mouth. Suddenly, a pain unlike any other he had ever felt shot through Daryl’s body. He nearly doubled over, gasping for breath as he watched the wounds on Rick’s body change. They were healing before Daryl’s eyes. It seemed Rick’s body was repairing itself, which could only mean it had worked. They were mates now, soulbound. Any pain that Rick felt, Daryl would feel tenfold. It was worth it, however. It would all be worth it if Rick survived.

  Rick slowly blinked his eyes open, the life returning to them. He sat upright, eyes widening as he watched his wounds repair themselves.

  “What the ever-loving hell,” he cried out.

  Daryl gasped out a laugh, resting a hand on his shoulder.

  “I’ll explain later. We have a job to finish,” Daryl said gruffly, helping Rick to his feet.

  Rick seemed startled to find that he could, indeed, stand. He grabbed the gun he had dropped.

  “You won’t be needing that,” Daryl said with a grin, lacing his fingers with those of his lover… no, his mate.

  Rick looked unsure, but seemed to become more and more confident as life returned to his body. “Let’s find that shitbag and end this,” Rick growled.

  Daryl smirked, raising his head and inhaling deeply through his nose. The scent of fear permeated the entire area, acrid and bitter on the back of his tongue. However, as he followed the direction that Big Jim Hawthorne had escaped in, he could make out the vaguest of trails.

  “Follow me,” Daryl said simply, following the trail like some sort of police dog.

  He could feel Rick’s eyes upon him as he led a path through the house and out into the back yard. The scent seemed to fade, which was odd, however Daryl realized the reason as his eyes fell upon a massive greenhouse. He pointed toward it, grinning a sharp toothed grin. “There,” he growled.

  Rick nodded, tightening his grip on Daryl’s hand and leading the way to the greenhouse. There was only one door—one way in and one way out. Daryl steeled himself, gesturing for Rick to wait at the door as he stepped inside. Immediately, his ears were assaulted with the sounds of girlish screams. He grinned wickedly as he laid eyes upon Big Jim Hawthorne, the very man who had orchestrated this hellish situation.

  “Please, please! Let me go! Just let me go! I’ll never commit another crime, so long as I live,” Big Jim pleaded, scrambling away from Daryl.

  Daryl narrowed his eyes, stalking closer and closer to the crime lord. After all the man had put Rick and himself through, it would be all too sweet to see him dead on the greenhouse floor.

  “Wait! Daryl,” Rick called out, stepping into the greenhouse. Daryl glanced to him curiously, and the crime lord’s eyes widened in surprise upon seeing Rick once more.

  “Damn, kid, why won’t you just die?” Big Jim blurted.

  Daryl narrowed his eyes, taking a step closer to the man. Rick grabbed him by the arm, holding him back.

  “Daryl, I know you wanna kill him. I know you wanna do it real bad. But you’re not like me. You’re not a criminal. You’re a police officer. This man has committed unspeakable crimes, but he deserves to be sentenced just like any other criminal. You can’t sacrifice your morals for this shitbag. It’ll feel good in the moment, but you’ll never forgive yourself for it,” Rick said carefully, rubbing a hand up and down Daryl’s scaled arm. Daryl was fully prepared to kill the crime lord, that much was true. He felt like the man deserved that much and more.

  However…

  Daryl had to admit that Rick had a point. As much as he wanted to see the man’s insides splattered across the greenhouse, Daryl wasn’t a murderer. He was a man of the law. In spite of all Chief Franklin had done to turn this entire city upside down, there was still a chance it could be salvaged. There had to be. Even if there wasn’t, Daryl wasn’t about to add to the unspeakably evil situation. He gritted his teeth, stepping toward the crime lord and grabbing him by the wrist. He gripped a bit more tightly than strictly necessary, and the sound of the man’s wrist snapping echoed through the greenhouse.

  “Shit! Fuck you! Fuck you, pretty boy,” Big Jim cursed angrily, tears streaming down his cheeks from the pain.

  “That’s my job, buddy,” Rick said with a sly smile.

  Daryl offered Rick a wink that clearly wasn’t expected.

  Rick’s eyes widened as if to say ‘wait, really?’ but Daryl edged past him. He kept a firm grip on Big Jim’s arm, and the three trekked the entire distance back to the police station. The veteran officers were outside, speaking angrily amongst themselves.

  “It ain’t right. The new kid didn’t deserve to get wrapped up in all this. I was hoping we’d scare him off, but,” one veteran officer ranted, cutting himself off
as Daryl cleared his throat. The veteran officers turned to face him, their collective eyes widening in fear and disbelief. “What the hell—” the officer blurted, and Daryl quirked his lips in a sharp toothed smile.

  “Officer Pretty Boy, here to turn this shitbag in,” he announced proudly, and the other officers exchanged surprised looks.

  “Is that—” one of the men began, and Rick swiftly interrupted him.

  “Yep! Big Jim Hawthorne, biggest crime lord in the city. Here to be locked up and tried like a proper criminal,” he announced proudly.

  “No, I mean. Is that a dragon? Pretty Boy is a dragon?” the man said, voice tinged with awe.

  Then, as the group seemed to shake off their reverie, one of the officers produced a pair of handcuffs. Daryl snapped them around Big Jim’s wrists, handing him over to the men.

  “The chief did some things none of us were proud of,” Daryl said carefully. “But I think between all of us, if you men are willing, I think we can finally clean this city up.”

  The veteran officers exchanged looks, the fate of their chief not needing to be said.

  “We’ll have to decide on a new chief and all, but—” one of the officers began.

  Daryl was quick to interrupt him. “I’ll let you decide that for yourselves. In the meantime, I’d like to take my boyfriend home and celebrate the end of this whole…thing.”

  The men nodded, and Daryl turned to face Rick with quirked lips. “Let’s go home.”

  ***

  Once they were away from the hustle and bustle of the city, Rick became vaguely aware of how drawn he was to the man he loved. Though, granted, he had always felt drawn to Daryl, this felt different somehow. They stepped through the front door of the house, and it was all Rick could do to keep from immediately pouncing on Daryl.

  He hesitated near the doorway, fidgeting uncomfortably.

  “You mind telling me what kind of magic you did back there?” he said, forcing himself to sound casual.

  Daryl glanced over his shoulder, holding up a finger before shifting back into his human form. His nudity no longer obscured by scales, Rick could see every inch of Daryl’s body. Every last inch. He felt himself grow stiff in his jeans, and he averted his eyes, not sure how interested Daryl was in his reaction.