by T. S. Ryder
She launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around him. She practically climbed up his body. He laughed into her mouth, gripping her ass with his hands. Her body was hot and warm against him, her weight pressing down on his hips at just the right angle. She started wiggling her pelvis, grinding against him, and he groaned.
"What happened to no sex?"
"No sex," she confirmed, diving into his neck. Sparks flew under his skin where she mouthed him. "Just making out."
He carried her to the bed and laid her down before draping himself over her. Her thighs hugged his hips as he found her breasts with his hands, kneading them. Lydia's eyes slid shut and she moaned, arching herself to him. He loved the sight of her, her pink lips slightly parted, her wicked tongue just poking through her teeth, a flush rising up her neck and cheeks. So damned sexy.
Ian growled at the thought of anybody hurting her and claimed her mouth again. He didn't care what those demons were after – Lydia Crawford was not going to be their victim.
Lydia grasped his shirt, rolling her hips upwards to increase the friction between them. Ian groaned as it became hard to think. He didn't want this to ever end. He wanted to tear off her clothes and have her in every way possible – but she said she didn't want the same. His groan of pleasure turned to one of disappointment as he gripped her hips, stopping her.
"What?" she panted. "Is something wrong?"
"If we don't stop, we won't," Ian whispered. He longed to kiss her again, but that would defeat the purpose of stopping her. "So… Do I go now, or do you become my mate?"
Lydia groaned. "Can't we have the sex without the mating?"
"No."
"Fine." She sighed and wiggled her way free. Flushed cheeks and tousled hair looked good on her. "If it has to be both or neither, then it's neither."
She sounded as disappointed as he felt, but Ian nodded. He stood, straightened his shirt, and ran a hand through his hair. "I should probably go do some work anyway."
"Okay."
Lydia pulled her shirt down over her midriff. When had it ridden up? Ian stared at the creamy strip of skin still visible and licked his lips. Maybe he should just… no. No, she was right. Maybe he didn't know human conventions are well as he ought to, but if they were going to have children together, the least they could do was make sure they actually liked each other.
The door slammed open. Lydia jumped. Ian turned, to see Amber. The chef had a large knife in her hand, which she pointed at him. Her face was pale, her hand shaking.
Ian frowned. "What are you doing?"
"You stay away from her!" Amber blurted. "You just stay away from her. We're leaving. You can't stop us."
"Amber, calm down." Lydia scrambled from the bed. "We're not going anywhere. It's not safe out there."
Amber brandished the knife at Ian as he shifted. "That's what he wants you to think! He just wants to keep us prisoners until he can seduce us both. Don't you see? He's evil! Dragons are evil. They always have been and they always will be."
Those were the words that killed his family. Ian growled at Amber's accusation.
"Amber, no—"
Everything happened quickly, within a single breath. Lydia reached for her friend, and Ian reached for the knife. Amber screamed. Lunging forward, she stabbed him in the chest. The knife skittered over his ribs to sink into his stomach. She screamed again and dropped the knife. It wobbled, barely stuck in. Blood spurted everywhere and Ian roared in pain. Sparks flew from his mouth. Smoke curled from his wounds.
"Amber!" Lydia shouted. "What is wrong with you?"
"He was attacking me! We have to go! We have to go now."
"No." Lydia shook Amber off as the redhead grabbed her arm. She pressed her hand to Ian's gushing wounds.
"I'm fine," he tried to say but swayed on the spot. Okay, maybe he wasn't fine. His blood spilled all over Lydia. She caught him as he slumped. She was stronger than she looked.
Amber stared at them for a moment before she shook her head and backed away. "I'm not staying. I'm not staying!"
She fled. Lydia called after her, but she didn't turn back. Just as well. Ian leaned heavily against Lydia, unaccustomed to the burning pain shooting through him. Had the blade been poisoned? No matter – he just needed to be able to transform and he'd be fine.
"We need to go upstairs," he choked.
"Upstairs?"
"Third floor. More room."
His head spun as he stumbled for the door. Lydia was saying something, but he couldn’t understand her. Who knew that a knife would hurt this bad? It wasn't even a deep cut. Just… He glanced down. Oh. A flap of skin hung loosely from his body. The knife had filleted his ribs. That explained it.
He nearly passed out before they got to the elevator, but managed to stay conscious long enough for Lydia to get him to the open floor where he could shift without breaking anything. It took a bit of a fight, but he got her to stay in the elevator as he stumbled to the middle of the floor. As he began to shift, an image flashed before his eyes.
Lydia lay in a grassy field. The wind gently blew strands of her hair over her face. Blue skies reflected in her eyes. She gasped for breath, blood bubbling from her lips. A spear stuck through her body, the ground turning to mud beneath her. Demons closed in from all sides.
Ian fell to his knees and screamed.
Chapter Seven – Lydia
Ian screamed with pain as he transformed. Lydia's breath caught in her throat as she watched it happen, slowly, like a flag unfurling. First, scales slipped out of his skin. Next, smoke gushed from the gaping wound. Then, wings burst from his back. He shredded his clothes. Within a few moments, she saw him for the first time. Huge. Magnificent. A long, sleek body with four legs that ended in grasping hands. A brilliant blue-green sheen reflected off him, and the small scales on his wings glittered as he flapped them. He hissed, the smoking wound sealing itself.
In a moment, he had shifted again, this time to the sandy-haired, tanned man she knew as Ian. He collapsed to the floor, skin covered with a sheen of sweat. When he rose, there wasn't a mark on him. The cut Amber had made was completely smoothed away. Not even a scar.
"Wow," Lydia whispered, resisting the urge to run her hands over his smooth, sculpted muscles. "You’re amazing. I mean, that was amazing."
The Dragon glanced up and gave her a half-grin, though it did nothing to hide the panic in his eyes. He pulled off the scraps of his suit (which did nothing to protect his modesty anyways) and strode towards her.
"The demons are after you, not Amber," he said.
Was he suggesting that they just leave her out there? "You said they might go after her anyway. We still have to bring her back."
"Too late. She'll be safe. By this time, she's called the cops on us. At least on me. I've got people who will take care of it, but, given the situation, we can't waste time deflecting suspicion. We'll have to leave."
"Go where?" Lydia's eyes widened. "And for how long? What if the demons do go after Amber? I can't just leave her behind!"
Ian clasped his hands in hers. "I know this is hard. But given my… attitude, my people have a better chance of containing this incident without me around. But I can't leave you. Amber is nothing special to the demons. You are the last Paladin. You're too important to risk."
Lydia hesitated. While she didn't like the idea of leaving Amber, Ian was right. There was no reason for the demons to go after her. Amber would be alright, although this could be traumatic… Hopefully, they would be able to meet again soon and Lydia could reassure her. The idea of losing Amber as a friend hurt.
"Where are we going?"
"Scotland. In my family's old place… Well, you could call it a fortress." Ian hesitated a moment, then shook his head. "We don't have time to pack."
Lydia shrugged. "That's okay. I don't have anything to pack, anyway."
***
'Fortress' was an understatement. Lydia was shaking from nausea from the flight – which had been quicker than a jet pl
ane and, consequently, she had spent it in a car tucked into Ian's giant clawed hands so that she wouldn’t suffocate – but she still was awed by what she saw when she stepped out of the car.
They had dropped in from the sky through an opening that looked too small for Ian to fit through. The immense space around them was dark until Ian blew out a long stream of fire to light it up. The place was big enough for him to fly circles in. Hundreds of mirrors showed that a single candle lit the whole room. It seemed that it had taken over a hundred years to design perfectly.
The rest of the place was no less impressive. Ian guided her, holding her hand, puffing out breaths of fire so they could see where they were going. The corridors started off huge but narrowed until they were the size of any college dormitory.
"Wow," Lydia finally managed some time later when Ian flicked on a set of electric lights. The bedroom she found herself in was immense, with beautiful black furniture and painted brick walls. It looked like it was well cared for. "How often do you come back here?"
"Once every couple months to make sure everything is in working condition," Ian replied. "I don't trust anybody else to be here."
"So, this place hasn't been cleaned for a couple of months, then?"
"Just one month. But we're underground, so things don't get dusty. It's dry, so things don't get musty and the scent of Dragon keeps rodents and other pests away."
The air was warmer than she expected, and Lydia wandered close to the bed. It looked so soft and inviting, with perfectly plumped pillows. This was the kind of room she'd expect to find in a magazine, not underground with a single man as its caretaker. She glanced back at him for a while and found him looking at her with a strange look in his eye. Her heart jumped. Was he regretting stopping things before Amber's attack?
She knew she was.
"How far underground are we?" she asked, trying to distract herself from her dirty thoughts.
"A few miles, but we're just below sea level. It's built into a mountain, after all."
"I see… and what would you do if spelunkers stumbled across this place? With its electricity and… that's a TV. This is literally a man cave."
Ian followed her gaze and chuckled. "Human encroachment is something I'll probably have to deal with eventually, but it's not worth worrying about right now."
"Demons," Lydia offered.
"Yes. Being here, I'm able to see things more clearly. Demons aren't free to roam the earth. There is a gate that separates this plane of existence from hell. It moves, roving from place to place, but I'm always drawn to where it will next appear. Long ago, the Paladins built protections over it to stop the demons from escaping. Since we know that the demons have targeted the Paladins, the gates must be weakening, allowing more demons through. They want to break it entirely."
The implications set a ball of dread into Lydia's stomach. She shuddered. "So… we need to find the gate and repair it?"
"I think so."
"How?"
Ian raised his hands helplessly. "I have no idea."
"Great." Lydia turned away, rubbing her temples. "I can't even use these Paladin powers that I'm supposed to have. How can I fix a gate that's someplace we don't even know with powers I can't even use?"
Ian stepped up behind her. He didn't touch her. He merely stood there as if he wanted to offer her comfort but had no clue how to go about doing so. Which he probably didn't. Lydia leaned back against him and closed her eyes, needing his warmth as coldness seeped into her bones.
"There is something else," he said hesitantly. "Something worse."
"What could be worse?"
A sigh answered her. "I'm a Dragon. As such, I have certain… abilities. I get visions. Prophetic visions. It's why I started going to your restaurant in the first place. I had visions of you. Recently, I had another one."
From his tone, it wasn't visions of sugarplums or sexy times. Lydia turned to him, holding her breath. He looked torn as he stared down at her.
"I had a vision of you… dead. Lying in a field with a spear through…" He choked and shook his head. "Sorry."
Lydia was glad for the tears in his eyes. She gripped his hand tightly. The cold was filling her inside and out, her heart pounding, hands trembling. But knowing that this was affecting Ian helped her. She knew that as long as he was with her… Things might not turn out okay, but at least she had a chance.
"If you die, the gates will open. So you need to make sure that you don't die."
Lydia snorted. "I wasn't exactly planning on dying anyway."
"I know, I just…"
Lydia shivered. Ian trailed off and silently wrapped his arms around her. She leaned into him, breathing in his scent, grateful for his warmth. "I don't suppose you know when I'm supposed to die?"
His arms tightened. "You're not supposed to die. You're supposed to live a long, happy life. Why does everyone…?"
He trailed off again. Lydia looked up at him and saw pure grief raging on his face. She didn't hesitate as she pushed herself to the tips of her toes, pressing a kiss to his mouth. He welcomed her eagerly, arms tightening around her. Heat flooded her body. All the reservations she'd had melted away. It didn't matter if she was going to live, die, or end up in limbo. She knew what she wanted, and she wasn't going to let fear stop her this time.
With a groan, she let her hands trail down Ian's chest. He was still naked in all his glory from the flight, and she found herself glad that he hadn't stopped to dress. She pressed herself against him, lifting one leg over his hip, then the other as he picked her up. The heat from his skin seeped through her clothing, warming her, and she pressed another kiss to his mouth before he traced kisses down her neck.
Ian nibbled at her collarbone. "Are you sure?"
"Yes."
He carried her to the bed and laid her down. His massive hands kneaded her breasts while she found him with her hand. His eyes rolled into the back of his head and he let out an almighty groan. Lydia had to repress a giggle. For such a huge, intimidating man, she had an incredible amount of power over him. She continued to move her hand, grinning, as he moved to undress her.
When it came to her pants, he ripped them and her panties off in one go with a feral snarl and pushed her legs apart. He found her, quickly leaving her trembling with her eyes rolling into the back of her head. They both grunted in time as they battled for supremacy. Sweat drenched Lydia's hairline. Ian grasped her wrist and pulled her away from him, then bent over to kiss her breasts as he eased himself in.
Her back arched, toes curling into the blankets beneath them as she cried out in pleasure. Everything started to quiver and jolt inside as he started a steady rhythm. Blood pulsed in her ears as she met his gaze. His eyes were wide, almost fearful, though the rest of his body was tense with determination. Lydia wrapped her arms around him, drawing him closer.
"It's okay," she whispered breathlessly. "It's okay. We don't have to rush. Just take your time."
Her fingers skimmed through the sweat on Ian's back as he slowed slightly, so his pace wasn't so frantic. He pressed his mouth to hers, and she could almost taste his pain. Lydia pulled him in closer, rolling her hips to match his rhythm.
"I'm here with you," she said. "I'm not going anywhere."
Ian pulled her closer, his arms tight around her, and pressed his forehead to hers. Her eyes drifted closed as zings of pleasure built inside her, feeling safe and secure in the Dragon's arms.
Chapter Eight – Ian
Ian cracked an eye open, the smell of bacon rousing his senses. The room was dark, but he knew it well enough that he didn't need to turn on the lights to find the spare suits he kept in his closet. They smelled a little stale, but he dressed and headed out, drawn by the scent of frying meat. He found Lydia in the kitchen wearing nothing but a shirt and her panties. Her makeup was smeared, her hair a mess. The only way she could look better was if she were wearing nothing at all. She smiled at him as she flipped over a set of pancakes.
"How do you ge
t electricity in here?" she asked. "I see you've got enough food for a year in your freezers, but what I don’t get is how you keep them running."
"Generators. They're tapped into the thermal dynamics, so it's an unlimited source of energy."
Lydia nodded. "I see. And the plumbing?"
"Ancient aquifer."
"Okay. Well, breakfast is almost ready. I found some eggs, but I'm not sure that—"
A shadow caught Ian's eye just in time for him to surge to his feet. He threw the table at Lydia. She yelped. A solid thump sounded as a black arrow impacted the table, spinning around. It hit Lydia. She fell to the floor, crying out again. Ian was on her in a second, wrapping his arms around her as the demons poured into the kitchen.
Ian acted on instinct. He spun Lydia around, putting his back to the demons, and shifted. His wings burst out, sending the table, chairs and demons flying. As his form changed shape, the rock walls around him cracked. They pressed in against his scales, but he pushed back. Hard. A deep, terrifying rumble filled the mountain as rocks broke. He sent a burst of fire towards the demons as the electricity cut out.
Rocks rained down on him, so he tucked his head in under his wings, keeping Lydia under his massive body. She was pressed against him. He could feel the frantic beating of her heart and curled tighter, wincing as the rocks bounced off his body.
When the mountain stilled, Ian tested their weight on him. Rocks slid to either side, but he hadn't brought the entire mountain down on them. That was good, at least. He shifted slowly, making sure things wouldn't collapse on Lydia, and pulled her into his arms.
"Are you hurt?"
"I don't think so," she mumbled. "So… What was your big plan here? Squish the demons?"
Ian frowned. "Hey, it worked."
"Yeah. It did. Could have squished me, too."