by Lizzy Ford
She was to enthralled by the changes to react when they were done. Without giving her a chance to run, Chace leapt into the air, hovering in the courtyard, before he snatched her in a talon.
Skylar shoved at the thick claw, cursing him under her breath. The compound dropped out from under her as his powerful wings carried them with ease into the air. She was about to squeeze her eyes closed and pray when she saw their destination – the cabin.
He dropped to the ground and released her, morphing into his human form before she climbed to her feet. Her eyes swept over his naked body, the wide shoulders, rounded ass and long thighs. Without looking at her, he strode into the cabin.
“If you’re safe, then I’m just gonna take off,” she said.
“I will come after you,” he called over his shoulder, disappearing into the cabin’s depths. “In dragon form.”
“Dammit.” Skylar trudged towards him. In the distance, she heard the sounds of sirens from the direction of the compound. “Magic cabin sounds good about now.”
She hurried in and closed the door behind her just in time to see Chace buttoning jeans.
“Are we going somewhere else?” she asked somewhat anxiously.
“Already there.”
“Where?” She was afraid to look out the nearest window.
“Better question is why you broke me out.”
“That wasn’t entirely my intention,” she admitted. “I meant to just ask you a few questions but then things just went the way they did.”
He sat down on the edge of his bed and gripped his head.
“You okay?”
“Lucky I’m alive after that shit.”
“Sorry. I didn’t realize it took a minute.”
“Not the adrenaline.” He lay back on the bed, displaying the length of his abs and chest. “Your boss was working on killing me.”
“You couldn’t be in the rehab program?”
“There is no rehab program,” he snapped. “There’s no reintegration into society. They kill us, plain and simple.”
Skylar was quiet, watching him. She didn’t want him angry so soon, not when he’d just shifted back into a human. He was struggling, apparent from his uneven breathing and the tremble of his hands.
“Come here.” His voice was husky from exertion and strain.
The idea of him setting his hands on her to calm down thrilled her and concerned her. He wasn’t in control, and she was afraid of what happened if he wasn’t able to rein in his magic, even with her help.
He held out his hand. She crossed to him and sat on the bed, taking it. With his perfect body stretched out before her, she was unable to resist the urge to touch him and skimmed her other palm along the ridges of his abs and up his muscular chest.
His breathing became steady beneath her touch, and she almost smiled at the sight of the erection forming in his jeans. She slowed her movements and let her free hand drift downwards, over his lower abs, and slid her hand under the band of his jeans. She stopped short of reaching his thick, stiff dick and tickled the skin above his groin wickedly.
Skylar glanced at his face. He was calm and quiet, all signs of him needing to shift gone. She removed her hand from his jeans and rested it on top of his erection, stroking him gently.
“So my touch calms you but something more sexual is faster,” she observed. “Is that with every woman?”
“No. Just you.”
She paused, not expecting the response or the strange flutter it sent through her.
He’s my dragon. The thought made her uncomfortable for reasons she didn’t understand. What they had was more than physical … it felt permanent.
“You, um, should probably drink as much water as you can to flush your system,” she advised, disturbed. She rose.
“Wait, that’s it?” he asked, opening his eyes to stare at her. “You’re not gonna finish what you started?”
She rolled her eyes at the familiar words she’d uttered at him not long ago.
“Just trying to help calm you down,” she said cheerfully. She turned away before he could see her interest and crossed the cabin to the kitchenette area, where she poured him a glass of water. She placed the glass on the nightstand nearest him then returned to the kitchenette. Being near him while beyond turned on was dangerous, especially with the unfamiliar, powerful emotions floating through her that she needed to suppress somehow.
“You haven’t eaten in a while, I take it?” she asked, recalling that she’d only just gotten breakfast at close to one o’clock.
“No,” he said. “Haven’t gotten laid either.”
“Wah, wah,” she replied. She went through his cupboards and fridge and pulled out bread and lunchmeat for sandwiches. She didn’t stop to think twice about making them for the monster that had basically kidnapped her twice within the span of a week.
It was the protective impulse, the one that flipped out seeing him lying in the hospital bed. She didn’t understand it or why she – a trained slayer – felt the need to help the creature she was supposed to capture. It had something to do with her dreams. The answer was there in her memories and had been trying to warn her.
She made him three sandwiches and herself one then took a plate with the offering to the bed. Apprehensively, she sat on the corner of the bed and set the plate down close to him, like she would a feral animal.
He lowered his hands from his head and sat. Skylar watched the taut muscles of his abs contract, admiring the ease with which he moved.
“You cut the crusts off,” he said, gazing at the food.
“No one likes crusts.”
“I do.”
“Then you can make your own next time.”
He snorted but devoured the crust-less food and downed the water. Some coloring returned to his face, though his features were still drawn. Rubbing his face again, he looked around.
“So we’re just going to roam the earth in your magic cabin?” she asked, glancing uneasily towards the window. “I, um, would really like to go home.”
“You can’t.”
Skylar stood and crossed her arms, glaring at him.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he said with a faint smile. “You’re the one who broke me out. Don’t think home is the safest bet for you.”
“It’d be fine. They’d just brainwash me again and all would be forgiven.”
“So you believe me now about your people being screwed up.”
“I don’t know what to believe, but I want to find out more,” she said carefully. “I want to know …” if I still have a family out there somewhere.
The idea she might wasn’t something she’d ever considered before. The thought was almost too large for her to digest. In her dreams, she had a mother, one who was afraid enough of something that they began running.
It was hard to consider the dream a memory without dwelling on the great, royal blue dragon she’d also seen in the vision. It wasn’t rational to believe her mother existed but the dragon did not or that her mother had baked her pie but not told her they were protectors of dragons.
“What is it?” Chace was gazing at her.
“Nothing.” Too aware of the two feet of space that separated them on the bed where they’d made love, she stood and walked away, sinking into a chair in the living area. Her injection point still hurt, and she rested a hand on it. The skin felt hot.
“Are you hurt?” he asked. “I didn’t think to ask if I scratched you or anything when flying.”
“No, you’re uh … gentle, aside from the whole kidnapping thing.”
He smiled, the sparkle returning to his gaze while the warmth of life returned to his features.
“The shrink injected me with something. Ever have a shot that feels like it’s just burning a hole in your arm?” She peered at it, perplexed.
“What did they inject you with?” The wariness in his voice made her sit up straighter.
“Something to make me sleep.”
“So they could’
ve injected like a tracking device or something in you?”
“Maybe.” She sighed. “I swear if you bite off my arm …”
“What in the name of everything holy will it take for you to understand that I’ve never hurt a fly in my life?” he growled.
She ignored him. She didn’t want to believe that about him. Or that she’d been brainwashed and had a family out there somewhere. Or that everything she’d ever known was just wrong.
“Let me see.” He knelt beside her chair, bringing his warmth and scent into her personal space again. Without asking, he took her arm.
Skylar found herself caught up in admiring the hue of his eyes and the long, feathery eyelashes lining them. His skin was the perfect shade of gold, like a ripe peach, while his bare upper body reminded her that in either form, he could’ve done a ton of damage to her, if he wasn’t the pacifist he claimed to be.
He rested his warm hand over the spot, and she hissed in pain. His gaze flickered up to hers.
“I think this needs to come out,” he said.
“What needs to come out?” she asked.
“What my magic is telling me is that whatever they put into your system, you somehow stopped it. Trapped it right there.” He withdrew his hand.
She stared at the spot on her arm. The way he explained it made sense. The ball that formed as soon as the needle went into her and had halted the spread of the solution’s fire.
Is this why I still remember the dreams, when the shrink said I wouldn’t after the session? Her body was protecting her. Or was it his magic?
She met Chace’s gaze. Confusion and desire raced through her. Whatever was going on, it all started around the time she met him.
“My guess is that they tried to brainwash you again.” He rose and crossed to he kitchenette, pulling free a sharp knife from the block on the counter. He returned to his spot at her side.
“Whoa. What are you doing?” she asked, pulling away when he reached for her arm once more.
“Whatever it is, it needs to come out.”
“Let’s not cut open Skylar today.”
“Skylar, it could make you sick,” he returned. “Like it’ll fester.”
“Why do you care?’ she asked, baffled.
He lowered his hand and gazed at her, appearing as surprised as she felt.
“I’m not a monster,” he said at last. “No matter what they tell you at your reprogramming center.”
The mocking tone made her flush.
“Where, by the way, they kill shifters instead of reintegrating them into society.” He snatched her wrist and gripped it tightly.
“I still can’t believe that,” she said, tugging unsuccessfully at her arm.
“What do you think he was doing to me? That shit was killing me, Skylar.”
I know. Even if she hadn’t been able to pronounce let alone identify what drug they were injecting into him, she’d felt how wrong it was. Admitting it, though, was a step towards acknowledging that her entire world was a lie. I’m not ready for that.
“This might hurt,” he warned her. The dragon shifter was moody again. He flipped her arm to expose the spot where the shrink had injected her.
She squeezed her eyes closed and held her breath, waiting for the pain. It was sharp and hot. He pierced the skin deep enough to reach the bubble beneath.
Gasping, she ventured a look then stared openly.
A grimace was on Chace’s face. He leaned away from the black goo oozing from her arm and dripping onto the floor.
“What the fuck is this?” he demanded.
“I don’t know.” Seeing it made her want to ask him to cut out any part of her body that touched it.
Chace released her wrist and dabbed a finger into the liquid draining from her arm. He studied it.
“Oh dear god!” she exclaimed.
The black goo shifted and moved around his finger of its own recognizance, as if it was alive.
“Get it out!” She shook her arm to hurry the flow of the contaminant.
“Easy,” he said calmly, resting a hand on her forearm. “Now we know how they’ve been doing it. It’s magic of some sort.”
“Out, out, out!” she chanted, pushing at the wound. “This is disgusting!”
“It’s okay.” His gaze was warm, the entertained smile on his face gentle. “We’re taking care of it.” He dropped the knife on the coffee table then reached forward, swiping away a tear she didn’t feel from her cheek.
Embarrassed, Skylar wiped her face on her shoulder. The black stuff only supported a reality that was becoming harder to dismiss. Her breathing was harsh, her heart pounding hard. It wasn’t just the goo upsetting her but the idea that she no longer knew what parts of her life were real and what parts were the creation of an organization she thought had raised her since the death of her mother.
“It just hurts,” she mumbled, feeling like an idiot for crying.
“I’ll let it pass this time. But for the record, I know when someone is bullshitting me.”
She snorted but didn’t look at him, not wanting to be drawn into his intensity and warmth. It was easier to keep her emotions balanced when he wasn’t touching her.
“I’ll get this cleaned up.” He rose and moved away again. Smoked honey wafted towards her with each of his movements, and she sucked in a deep breath, tasting and smelling him.
She shuddered, a shiver working its way through her, before her gaze settled on the black stuff again. Any pleasure she took out of being near Chace died when she saw what was on her arm.
I have to warn Mason. Her only real friend the past few years, he was going through what she had. He’d understand.
Chace handed her a paper towel. She squeezed goo out of her arm. Blood trickled out and she stopped then held the towel in place until it stopped bleeding. Quickly, she tied her hair up in a loose bun on top of her head so as not to get blood or magic goo in it then leaned over to help him clean up.
“It’s running away,” she said, horrified.
“Trying to.” Chace was quickly mopping up the goo then tossing soaked towels into a trash bag. “Put a bandage on. Make sure none of this junk gets back inside you.”
Ugh. She stood and went to the first aid kit on the table. Blood formed a stark red trail against her pale skin, and she caught a drop before it had a chance to reach the floor. She wrapped her arm quickly. Caught up in her task, she didn’t hear him approach.
“What is that?” he asked, a hushed note in his voice.
“What is what?” she asked, turning to face him.
“Your tat.”
She glared at him. “Like you don’t know.”
“I wouldn’t ask if I did.” He took her arm and turned her once more, tracing the tattoo on the back of her neck lightly enough to make her shiver.
“You marked me after we slept together. I assumed so you can keep tabs on me,” she grumbled.
“I didn’t do this,” he replied. “I’d remember giving someone a tattoo.”
“Seriously?” She pulled away. “It’s a magic tattoo, Chace, like the one on your chest.”
“So you’re a dragon?” he asked.
Skylar spun, sensing he was messing with her. Her retort died on her lips at the sight of his genuine confusion.
“Sometimes I feel like we’re talking two different languages,” she said. “This … thing appeared on my neck where you bit me the night we …” she cleared her voice.
Interest flared to life in his gaze.
“Anyway, two weeks later, I’ve got a magic tattoo.”
“I’ve never heard of this,” he said. “Maybe we should cut that out, too.”
“What? No.” She took a step back when he raised the knife. “Whatever was in my arm was just plain evil. This isn’t.” She touched the tattoo, not at all certain what it meant, but sure it wasn’t bad.
“So how did the mark of a shifter dragon get on your neck?” he asked, irritated.
“You put it there.”
Skylar looked away, feeling claustrophobic with him there and trapped by her attraction to him and the strange emotions. He was everything she didn’t need right now, all wrapped into one delicious, sexy package that was beyond a doubt too real for her to pretend she was a normal slayer doing her job.
She pulled her hand away from his body with effort.
“Can you go fly around or something for a while?” she muttered. “I have a headache.”
“Whatever.”
The moody dragon shifter snatched up the trash bag filled with magic goo and stormed out.
Skylar breathed a sigh of relief, uncertain why her insides were churning like they did when she suspended in his talons again, convinced she was about to fall to her death.
“Calm down, Sky,” she murmured. “We’re slowly getting the answers.” Too slowly.
It struck her then that the only time her past was remotely clear was in her dreams, when her mother spoke to her. She hadn’t learned anything else about herself outside of them.
Too wired to sleep, she searched through the kitchen cabinets for any booze or sleeping aids.
“Hey, uh, cabin. You got any sleeping pills? Downers? Drugs?” she asked.
Something rattled behind her, and she whirled in time to see an orange prescription pill bottle fall off the nightstand beside the bed.
“Thanks, I think.” Crossing to it, she picked it up curiously. “So dragon-boy has sleep problems, too. Interesting. Take one at bedtime, two if needed. Do not exceed two in twenty-four hours. These things look awfully small to work well.”
Skeptically, she poured herself a glass of water and then dumped four of the tiny pills into her hand. Tossing them into her mouth, she downed the glass of water and went to the bed.
Tell me everything I need to know about me, she commanded her mind.
As soon as she settled on the bed, sleep swept over her.