Dragon's Kiss: A Dragon Guild Novella

by Carina Wilder

  “I’m not taking anyone,” Dex said. “Merely keeping your foul hands off of her. For the record, you need to learn some better pickup lines, Eldrich, you absolute tosser.” He began to walk again, taking Flick along with him.

  They’d almost reached the nearest exit when the sound came.

  The grim communal gasp of Dex’s fellow shifters told him what had occurred before he’d turned to look, and Flick’s cry of surprise only served to reinforce it.

  Eldrich had just unleashed his inner beast.

  Dex swung around to face the Dragon, its ochre-coloured scales glinting tarnished gold under the blue light. Two rows of spiked scale lined his neck like a threatening mane, his face coated in smaller spikes. Eldrich’s déor, like his human form, managed to convey every message other than “Be my friend.”

  Preening like a peacock, the Dragon stretched his wings out, forcing his shifter audience to move out of the way or be pierced by the sharp claw-like appendages at his wingtips.

  “You irresponsible bloody idiot,” snarled Dex, unafraid. “Do you even know what you’ve done?”

  “What the ‘ell is this?” yelled one of the Grizzly shifters, gesturing towards the creature.

  “It’s a sodding Dragon,” another man, a Wolf shifter, replied.

  “Dragons don’t exist no more.”

  “I beg to differ, given the monster standing ten feet away from us.”

  The men started to shove one another as Eldrich’s déor looked on, clearly pleased with himself for inspiring such immediate madness.

  Dex turned to Flick, whose mouth was hanging open as she stared at the creature. By now most of the shifters had backed away, too afraid to risk proximity to a potential killing machine. A Dragon had more at his disposal than claws and teeth; he had fire. Flames in an enclosed space such as this were a dangerous bet at the best of times.

  “I’ll be taking the woman with me.”

  Eldrich spoke the words directly to Dex’s mind, isolating the thought from everyone else in the club. “She’s mine, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

  “Yes there is,” Dex replied out loud, drawing stares from his confused audience, “and for the record, she’s not yours.”

  “What are you talking about?” asked Flick, her voice strained with confusion. “You’re acting like he asked you a question. Is he talking to you?”

  “He is. Now move,” Dex growled without turning her way. “Get well behind me.”

  He waited to be sure she’d followed his orders and moved far behind his massive form. A silvery blue Dragon, even larger than Eldrich’s déor, burst from Dex’s body when he felt that she’d distanced herself sufficiently. His scales shimmered like liquid, his sides heaving in and out. The shifters around the room gasped once again in unison, stunned at the sight.

  As shocking as Eldrich’s beast had been, this second Dragon was even more astonishing to the crowd surrounding him. He was larger, more beautiful than the spikey monster who stood facing him. Something about Dex’s déor looked as though it had sprung from some sort of elemental magic, the sky and the sea mingling in his coat of scale like exquisite mirrors of the universe.

  Some of the shifters gathered in the crowd knew what they were seeing. This was one of the legendary creatures born of the ancient lines of magical beasts. Never had any of London’s shifters expected to come face to face with such an entity, least of all under the city’s streets.

  Smoke puffed from Dex’s nostrils in warning, but Eldrich, too stubborn to heed it, thrust his head forward and snapped his jaws at the other Dragon. Dex immediately retaliated by shooting a bullet of flame at the floor in front of the other déor’s feet. The wood plank burned for a moment then went out, a charred black streak remaining in its place. Warning number two.

  A low growl echoed through the room, and Dex found himself hoping that Flick had made her way to an exit by now. If the other shifters were afraid, Dex knew that she probably was, too. This was no place for a human.

  He arched his neck, staring down the other Dragon as he advanced, pinning him against the far wall to minimize his potential for damage. “Don’t test me, bastard,” he conveyed silently, narrowing his yellow eyes at his enemy’s. “Don’t even think about it.”

  A moment later a low, deep rumble echoed off the walls. But this wasn’t the sound of a Dragon. This was a man’s hostile chuckle. Eldrich had surrendered already, altering into his human form. Dex had asserted his dominance and won their battle without a single blow.

  “Just know that I will have the woman,” Eldrich shouted at his enemy. “Not only that, but now that these weaklings know we’ve returned to take the city, I’ll have everything I want. You would do well not to get in my way, Dexter.”

  In reaction to the proclamation, the icy blue Dragon shifted back into his human form, his hands balled into stone-hard fists at his sides. “The world of shifters is not for those who abuse power,” Dex snarled. “You will not rule this place, Eldrich, and nor will you dictate any woman’s choice of mate. Remember this: there is no one ruler of Dragons. If there were, it would be a Kindred, not one of your meagre bloodline. Now, I suggest that you do yourself a favour and forget that you ever came here. Forget that you ever met Flick. Leave, and don’t come back.”

  “Oh, I will leave. But rest assured that I will be claiming what’s rightfully mine,” the other man promised. As he strode by Flick, he turned and snapped his teeth at her, letting out a dry chuckle.

  Then he was gone.

  Chapter 4

  The dark-haired, blue-eyed Dragon shifter turned and walked towards Flick, who remained frozen, her fingers digging into her thighs. As he approached, Dex raised a hand, his palm facing forward, then slammed his fingers into a hard fist. An explosion of light shot through the Underground Club, a flash of lightning turning the world white for an instant.

  When her eyes had adjusted, Flick looked around in wonder at the club’s patrons. The shifters had all frozen, wide-eyed, for a few seconds, before starting up conversations with one another as though nothing out of the ordinary had occurred in the last few minutes. The music resumed, and the Underground returned to its former, blissfully ignorant self.

  Flick turned and slipped into the stairwell. Dex followed her through the doorway before shutting the door behind them.

  “What was that?” she asked. “What did you just do?”

  “I turned into a Dragon,” Dex replied, a cheeky smile on his face.

  “You know what I mean. After that. The flash.”

  “Oh, that. I made them forget what they’d seen. It was for their own good; I’d rather not have rumours circulating about what went on here tonight.”

  “For their own good? I’m not so sure about that,” Flick said before a thought struck her. “Wait—why haven’t I forgotten?”

  “Because I didn’t want you to. Come, let’s get out of here.”

  When Flick began to climb the stairs, Dex shook his head. “Not that way,” he said, his voice echoing through the empty stairwell.

  She looked around at the bare stone walls. “Which way then? Aside from the stairs, there’s nothing here.”

  “To your eyes there’s nothing here,” he replied. “To most eyes, in fact.” She thought she spotted another small, sly smile on that gorgeous face of his before he stepped around the stairs into the small alcove next to them.

  A large stone wall stood in his way, but rather than stop, he simply walked…through it.

  “What the…?” Flick asked, marvelling at Dex’s disappearance. A second later his hand reappeared, seemingly coming through the wall, beckoning her. She took it and waited as he pulled gently. “Look,” she said, “if you’re a ghost as well as a Dragon, this isn’t going to work very well, because I’m very much ali—”

  Before she could finish the word, he’d yanked her through to the other side as easily as if he’d guided her through open air.

  She found herself in a long, dark hallway of ancien
t stone and moss. The club’s noise had faded to nothingness, the only sound greeting her ears the sporadic dripping of water on stone. On either side, a row of torches was fixed to the wall by iron rings, each one illuminated with a bright, warm flame of red-orange.

  “Where are we?” Flick asked, spinning around to look for the opening they’d come through. All she could see was solid stone wall. She pressed her palms to its surface, pushing hard as a soft chuckle erupted from somewhere behind her.

  “We’re in one of the many passageways that my kind use,” he said. “One of London’s hidden corners.”

  “You said your kind,” she replied, pivoting to look up into his eyes. “Your kind is what, exactly? I mean, aside from a gigantic sodding lizard.”

  “I’m one of the Kindred. One of the ancient lines of Dragon shifters.”

  “Dragon shifters in and of themselves are a rather stunning revelation,” said Flick. “But you’re not just a shifter.”

  “No,” Dex said softly. “My kind are magic users as well. Dragon blood flows through our veins, of course, but there are those among the shifter population who’ve long considered us something closer to witches and warlocks.”

  “I thought witches and warlocks didn’t exist. Then again, I also thought Dragons didn’t exist, so I might very well be going absolutely mad.”

  “There was a time when you thought Wolf shifters didn’t exist, too, Flicka. You’d best keep thinking that there’s no such thing as a Dragon, if you know what’s good for you,” Dex replied. He was looking at her again with that same strange expression he’d had earlier. As though he was making his way inside her, reading her very cells just as he seemed to read her eyes.

  “Oh? Why is that?”

  He turned away and a second later he was moving again, striding down the tunnel. She followed, jogging to keep up with his long legs. “Because you’re very beautiful, Flick,” he said, “and I don’t want to have to clean up your lovely corpse. Even less do I want to have to kill you myself.”

  She halted. “I beg your pardon?” she called out to his back.

  He turned to face her. God, he was huge. His head almost touched the top of the arched tunnel, and when he reached his arms out to press his palms into the walls, he had no trouble doing so. “You heard me,” he said. “I know that I’m not the only one with a secret. I know who you are. What you are. You’re a reporter, and an inquisitive one at that. I probably would have been wise to make you forget what you saw back there, just like the others.”

  “But I’m not a…” she began. She bit her lip, cutting off her own lie. There was no denying it, but how did he know what she did for a living? Had he somehow read her mind? “Yes, I am. But I don’t write about shifters. I never have, in all the years I’ve known of your existence.”

  “No?” he asked, leaning forward. Those eyes of his were hypnotic. For a moment she froze, her breath paralyzed, caught somewhere in her chest. “No,” he repeated. “You wouldn’t. Still, there are some out there who would use my identity as a weapon against me and anyone affiliated with me. If you’re one of them, you should tell me now.”

  “Given that no one would ever believe me, I’m not sure how I could use my knowledge, or anything else for that matter, as a weapon.”

  “No? And here I thought you liked weapons. You seem all too happy to wield your blade.” He edged towards her once again, pointing at the hilt of her knife. “Tell me, what exactly were you doing in the club, if it wasn’t research for a story?”

  Flick slammed her lips shut, backing up a few steps. Instinct told her to reach for the blade again, but it would only prove his point. She was no killer, and something told her that she needn’t fear him.

  “I was…unwinding,” she said.

  “Unwinding?” Dex laughed again. “You hang about with sexually repressed, aggressive shifters to relax, do you? Most women would refer to that as a very difficult night.”

  She shrugged. “I like shifters,” she protested. “Well, for the most part. I can’t really explain it. I feel at home among them. In the club I feel like I’m in the real world. I prefer it to the one above ground where humans walk about ignoring the amazing things around them while they moan about their lives, or worse, kill each other with abandon as they did a few years back. The shifter world is layered and mysterious.”

  “Layered? Like an onion?” Dex chuckled.

  “No. Like something far more exquisite.” Flick allowed herself a smile at last.

  “Tell me then, if you feel so at home in the club, why the knife?”

  “Because as you said, there are sexually eager male creatures about. Some, like your friend back there, think I’m fair game to throw over their shoulders and take me to bed.”

  Dex’s eyes were glowing bright blue as he took another step towards her. “You weren’t there to get picked up, nor were you there as a spy,” he said. “So what are you?”

  “Lost, I suppose,” she replied, making a concerted effort to hold her chin high and to look him directly in the eye.

  “A lost little girl,” he said, slipping his index finger under her jawbone and pulling her chin even higher as his eyes moved down her curvaceous form. “No. A lost woman.” The way his lips formed the word sent a shiver of pleasure through her body, his scent twining its tendrils about her in an erotic embrace.

  “I suppose that’s what I am, yes,” she replied, her voice threatening to tremble.

  “Well, you’d best stay lost.” He pulled his hand away and spun around to stride down the passageway. “Trouble is going to start soon, Flick, and I don’t want to see the likes of you tangled up in it.”

  Chapter 5

  Dex had a problem.

  He was currently deep inside a secret tunnel under London’s streets, in the company of a beautiful woman. A woman who had cast a spell on his déor, who aroused him in a way that made his head spin. She was perfect. Sensual, sexy, beautiful. His déor called to him to take her for his own, just as Eldrich’s had done.

  It wasn’t exactly a twentieth-century notion to lay claim to the flesh of another being. Beastly, animalistic instinct. Perhaps he was no better than the arsehole he’d challenged.

  His human side was a little more sensible. As much as he desired her, he knew that he should send her on her way and tell her never to return to the Underground Club. Before too many days had passed, that place might become a war zone. When Eldrich—or someone like him—opened their goddamned mouth and revealed the truth once and for all, all hell would break loose among the Wolf packs and the mauls of Grizzlies, who would look to assert themselves as second in command.

  Eldrich had been right about one thing: the Dragons were the apex predators. That meant that everything and everyone else was potential prey.

  “Look,” said Flick, who’d caught up to Dex again, “I just want to know what’s going on. What was your friend back there talking about, saying he was going to claim me?”

  “He wants a mate. He needs one,” Dex said. “To keep our kind alive. His instinct tells him to find a woman who’s strong, and you appeal to him for obvious reasons.”

  “Obvious?” she asked.

  “You’re a beautiful woman, as I’ve pointed out,” Dex replied. “It’s a wonder many others haven’t tried to lay claim to you.”

  “I have a knife, remember. They can’t just grab me and drag me by my hair back to their caves.”

  “Sometimes a knife isn’t enough to hold off a determined mate.”

  “And you?” she asked.

  “What about me?”

  “Do you need—want, rather—a mate?”

  “My déor wants one,” he replied, his voice all but coming in a feral growl. “If I’m to be honest, my déor is very attracted to you.”

  “What about the rest of you?”

  Dex stopped again, turning her way. She froze, no doubt waiting for his answer. He moved towards her, backing her up against the curved wall, and pressed his hands to the stone surface on
either side of her head, his body mere inches from her own. “What do you think?” he said, his eyes examining her face, his lips twisted into a grin. “Do you think the rest of me wants you?”

  “I think you like to tease,” she replied in a tight voice. “I think you want to make me nervous.”

  Dex moved in closer, nuzzling her ear with his nose as he inhaled that heavenly scent of hers. The beautiful creature was aroused. He wondered how she’d feel if she knew how hard she was making him.

  He slid his lips down her neck, barely touching her as his ears registered a hard gasp from her mouth.

  “I don’t tease,” he said softly, lips moving against her skin. “I am nothing if not straightforward. If I act as though I want you, it’s because I want you, Flicka.”

  “So you’re telling me you’re not teasing me right now?” she asked, her hands pressed to the stone wall.

  “I’m simply answering your question. You asked if the rest of me finds you attractive.” He reached his hand out for her waist and pulled her towards him, pressing his lips to her neck, sucking gently. He knew that she could feel his thick erection pressing into her belly. Knew that there would no longer be a question of his attraction. “Does this answer you sufficiently?” he growled.

  “Quite sufficiently,” she breathed, a hand reaching around to his back, pulling her body into his.

  “Now who’s teasing?” he asked, pulling back and away, releasing himself from her grasp.

  “Hardly teasing,” she replied, smiling up at his eyes. “I know full well that you can smell just what you’ve done to me. I’m as honest as you are; at least my scent is. You know what you’re doing to me.”

  “True,” he said. He stepped back a foot or so, his form towering over hers. “So we’ve established a mutual attraction. However, that doesn’t mean I intend to try and seduce you. Right now I’m only interested in getting you away from the club. You’ll need to stay away from there in future. Do you understand me?”