Relic Hunters: BBW Dragon Shifter Paranormal Romance (The Complete Trilogy)

by Bianca James

  Chapter 8

  Saira had long ago given up on her dream of meeting the perfect man, the perfect husband and enjoying the perfect life while raising a family. During high school it became painfully clear that she just wasn’t the type of girl who attracted the kind of attention that the other girls seemed to attract almost effortlessly. Rather than dwell on her shortcomings and surrender to the loneliness, by the time Saira had reached university, she had immersed herself in her studies and committed herself to a grueling academic path that would eventually fill the void left by the lack of the perfect nurturing and supportive husband she’d always dreamed of and the babies she’d once longed for.

  Despite her best efforts to immerse herself in her work, she still felt a strong tide of emotion surge within her whenever she was on the tube or in a shopping center and saw a young couple holding hands and cherishing their infant children. The scientist in her knew that it was only the elevated levels of the mothers oxytocin that promoted the maternal bonding with the child, earning it the nickname the ‘love hormone’, but seeing the hope and joy on the faces of the first time parents made her ache to know that feeling for herself. Afterward, though, she’d always chastise herself for allowing raw emotion to cloud what she knew was nothing more than a simple chemical and hormonal response.

  Besides, she knew she’d never find anyone who’d want to share that life with her and it annoyed her that she would feel the pangs of emotion each time she imagined herself enjoying a day out with her husband and baby. Even now, in the direst of circumstances she felt the emptiness within her and tears wept freely from her face. She had no way of blotting them away and she had no doubt that what little makeup she was wearing would smear down her face leaving her looking like some kind of deranged clown.

  As her peripheral vision narrowed, her chest tightened as fear clawed at the edges of her oxygen deprived brain. She was on the verge of an all-out panic attack. She recognized the signs but she wasn’t sure she could actually do anything to regain control of the rush of terror that gripped her. What felt like steel bands around her ribcage tightened another notch and her breathing became more labored.

  Having long since given up on Bryce finding her and saving her from her ironic fate – suffocating in an underground tomb, she tried valiantly to push aside the growing fog of hypoxia. This could only happen to an archaeologist.

  Taking a slow breath, she held it a moment before releasing it . . . slowly through pursed lips, trying her best not to panic and to slow her racing heart. Fear and anxiety would only consume her remaining oxygen faster. Maybe she should have paid more attention at the meditation classes one of her new age, hippy friends at university talked her into attending. From her vague recollection, she actually fell asleep at the beginning of the class, as they began their breathing exercises.

  With her pulse steadying and her breathing more controlled, Saira tried to maintain control and not dwell on the impossibility of the situation. She thought about Bryce. The handsome, lithe bodied rogue with the heart melting smile. Maybe he was the one for her. Perhaps her life had been nothing more than a journey to a place and time where their paths would cross. Was she being foolish thinking he’d been attracted to her? She didn’t think so. For a fleeting moment she could imagine them together, living the life she’d always longed for.

  That was her final thought before hypoxia overwhelmed her.

  Chapter 9

  Cap pulled down low to obscure his face from the many cameras sweeping the compound, Bryce approached the building that appeared to be the focus of the security net with a confident and deliberately unhurried step, determined to appear to anyone observing as the fallen guard going about his rounds. They were closely enough matched in height and build to stand up to passing scrutiny. Bryce hoped that nobody would have reason to look too carefully if they had no cause to be suspicious and by wearing the man’s cap and uniform, he hoped to allay any qualms as to his identity. To be sure, though, he avoided facing any of the cameras, suspecting that a system this sophisticated would surely include facial recognition as part of its repertoire. If there was one thing he’d learned about The Circle it was that they never did anything on a budget. They flew first class all the way. Apparently, crime did pay and it appeared to pay very well, indeed.

  Reaching what appeared to be the main entrance to the building he suspected housed something The Circle wanted to keep secure, Bryce paused and stood before the aging door with rusted hinges and an incongruously high tech biometric lock.

  He withdrew his hand from his pocket and using his body to block the line of sight between the door and the nearby cameras, Bryce placed the pad of the gunman’s severed finger on the biometric scanner. The red light on the scanner winked out, replaced by a welcoming green light and the solid thunk of an electromagnetic lock being disengaged.

  He was in.

  Once inside, he returned the bloody stump of the guard’s index finger to a compartment in the tactical belt he wore around his tapered waist. You never knew when a severed finger might come in handy. He smiled cruelly at his own macabre joke. There was nothing remotely humorous about the situation — it was simply his way of dealing with the need to perform such horrific acts in order to achieve what he hoped would be a noble end . . . if only he could find Saira.

  Caged bunker lights dimly lit the drab, grey concrete walled passageway as far as his eyes could see. The fact that the lights were lit, albeit dimly, confirmed he was in the right place. Nobody paid the power bill in an abandoned factory. What struck Bryce as odd, though, was that the interior of the structure was ‘rigged for red’ as they say in the navy — all of the lighting was a specific red frequency, like that used in submarines and on board ships to preserve night vision. This was a high grade, tactical lighting solution designed with the express purpose of preventing the bleaching of Rhodopsin from the rods of the eyes and vastly improving the scotopic vision or night vision of those moving between the environment of the tactically lit the bunker and the darkness outside of it. Exposure to bright light or daylight bleached the Rhodopsin from the rods making it extremely difficult to see in the darkness.

  Interesting. Bryce didn’t know what to make of that but it was clear that his enemy used its abundant resources to ensure it had every possible advantage in every conceivable situation.

  The end of the passageway trailed off into darkness, so there was no way to determine the length of the tunnel, but closed and probably locked doors were spaced at regular intervals on either side of the corridor. Saira had to be behind one of those doors, his dragon could still detect her residual scent that hung in the air. She was close, but time was critical if he was to save her. His dragon stirred within knowing his fated mate was close by. Bryce wanted nothing more but to save the girl who had become unwittingly caught up in this quest for the holy relics and the power they were said to wield. Right now, that was incentive enough to get the job done and he made his way to the first door.

  Chapter 10

  As Bryce was about to test the door handle to see if it was locked, a movement caught his attention half way down the corridor. The darkened end of the tunnel was no longer visible, his line of sight now blocked by a figure that appeared to occupy the entire width and height of the tunnel.

  Bryce allowed his dragon eyes to shift, affording him a clearer view of the obstruction. What he saw left him speechless.

  A man, if he could even be called that, who was nearly as wide as he was tall and built like a Russian war monument. Or in his case, like a Korean war monument. He was without doubt the largest human being Bryce had ever seen. There was no way he had time to take this giant on one-on-one — Saira might die while he battled with the behemoth. He had no choice but to shift into his dragon and turn the giant into a Korean barbeque.

  Then it came to him. The confines of the narrow, low ceilinged passageway wouldn’t accommodate his dragon. Even if he survived the shift into his dragon form in the confined space, he woul
dn’t be able to draw enough breath to ignite his fire and his clawed talons would be trapped under his belly. He’d be totally vulnerable. He would have no way of defending himself, least of all any means of attacking the brick shithouse who stood between him and the girl he was trying to save.

  With a purposeful and confident stride, Bryce walked briskly toward the unflinching Korean who stood steadfast in place with his arms crossed. As Bryce got near enough that he could see that the face of his opponent through the faint red glow, it was set hard as flint. Even his dark, haunting eyes were devoid of emotion. He was an ice cold, stone faced killing machine.

  Perfect. Just fucking perfect.

  As he reached striking distance, the Korean still hadn’t moved a muscle. He just stood there, legs akimbo and arms folded across his impossibly wide chest. Picking up the pace, Bryce launched a Thai boxing style push kick right to the solar plexus, just below his folded arms. The thrusting kick would have winded and toppled even the most resilient heavyweight opponent. In this case, though, the big Korean didn’t utter a sound or move an inch as Bryce felt the full force of the kick echo back off the chest of the giant, reverberating back through his leg and into his own body, jarring his teeth shut with the impact.

  “Oh shit!” He shook his head to clear his thoughts.

  What probably passed as a smile to those who knew the Korean well, played across his tightly closed lips. This was definitely a man who enjoyed tormenting his opponents before tearing them apart with his bare hands.

  With a speed that belied his massive bulk, the Korean’s arms unfolded and one of the bulky forearms hooked around Bryce’s leg, capturing it in a vice-like grip. Bryce stood before his opponent with one leg planted in his chest and the other on the ground. He kept his guard up, but knew the Korean was out of reach of his hands. His only other weapons, his feet, were currently occupied.

  “I’ll give you one last chance to give up,” Bryce offered with not even a hint of sarcasm.

  The mute giant smirked wickedly and raised his other arm ready to smash it down on Bryce’s trapped leg, smashing it and ending the fight then and there.

  Without even thinking about it, Bryce used all of the strength he could muster in his supporting leg and thrust himself into the air and performed a barrel roll by using the Korean’s grip on his leg as a pivot point. As he spun, he kicked with all his might at the chest of his capture. He didn’t intend to harm him — that seemed all but impossible. Instead, he created enough explosive force with his twist and kick routine to break free of the hold before tumbling to the hard concrete floor.

  Even before he finished rolling out of the bewildered Korean’s range, Bryce was unfastening and withdrawing a black cylindrical object from one of the pockets in his tactical belt. The knurled aluminum body of the cylinder fit perfectly in his underhanded grip as he aimed it at his enemy. He had only one chance to survive this encounter and save Saira. He hoped to God the manufacturers advertising wasn’t writing checks the product couldn’t cash . Bryce was about to find out . . .

  Bryce was a gadget lover, always had been and always would be. Military gadgets were his favorites, though and his Surefire P3X Fury Tactical flashlight was one of the latest to find a place in his belt. Designed for military and law enforcement professionals, of which Bryce was most definitely neither, the small flashlight delivered a near blinding 1,000 lumens of focused LED light with nothing more than a thumb press on the tactical tailcap switch, allowing Bryce to hold the flashlight in an ‘icepick’ grip as he directed the business end of the device to the face of his enemy.

  According to the brochure, not only was the compact flashlight powerful enough to be used for searching and signaling, it could also be used for “overpowering the dark-adapted vision of a threat in tactical situations”.

  The low red lights of the tunnel were certainly designed to adapt to night vision. Check. This was certainly a tactical situation. Check. The enormous seemingly indestructible Korean was nothing but one huge threat. Check.

  Bryce closed his eyes after taking aim then hit the thumb activated switch as he came to rest and began to stand. A blinding shaft of pure white light poured from the tiny flashlight directly into the dark-adapted eyes of the Korean who tried to cover his face with his hands but it was too late. The damage had been done. Not only had the blast of light bleached the Rhodopsin from the rods of his eyes, leaving him temporarily blinded in the dimly lit tunnel, but it also left him completely disoriented.

  As he released the switch of the flashlight, shutting off the ultra-high powered LED emitter, Bryce opened his eyes which were still dark adapted and ready to fight the Korean on more even terms.

  A dazzlingly fast kick with the steel capped toe off his boot connected with the Korean’s groin, resulting in a nauseating sound, a sharp outlet of breath and a near animalistic shriek of agony from the startled hulk. As he collapsed to his knees, cradling his crushed and bruised manhood, Bryce spun like a deadly ballerina, delivering a spinning back kick to the giant’s jaw knocking him out and toppling him like a granite statue, bringing him crashing face first into the solid concrete floor, the sound of his nose breaking with the impact echoing through the length of the now silent bunker.

  “Sorry you didn’t get to light your fire, old chap,” he said aloud to his dragon. “Maybe next time.”

  Bryce had a mission to complete. He hoped he wasn’t too late as he unhooked a ring of keys and magnetic swipe cards from the fallen Korean’s belt and made his way down the stairs to the part of the subterranean structure that the Korean seemed to be guarding.

  Chapter 11

  Strong hands. Powerful, capable arms. Broad and robust shoulders. All at once, Saira was aware that something was happening but she was too weak and her brain too oxygen deprived to makes sense of it. She simply didn’t care. Long ago, or so it felt, she had given up all hope and surrendered herself to the inevitable.

  It had to be a dream. Maybe the kind of dream that makes passing to the other side easier and more bearable. That had to be it. It was over for her and now a new journey would begin. A new journey without Bryce. She would never again know the feel of his dexterous fingers across her soft skin or the tingle as his lips brushed against hers. Never again would her fingertips trace the planes of his face before feeling the strong shoulder muscles that surged beneath his skin.

  He was gone and now she would pass to the other side as she had lived most of her life — all alone.

  Suddenly, the hands, arms and shoulders that were to carry her to her fate were replaced by hard skin which felt a lot like aged and weathered leather. Something wrapped around her, trapping her or securing her, she couldn’t quite tell. Yet, somehow, she wasn’t afraid. This was how it was meant to be. There was no need to be afraid, of that she felt quite sure.

  A breeze swept across her face as the sound of leathery wings beat in a slow yet powerful rhythm. It felt like she was flying, but of course that was impossible. It was just how the transition between life and death worked. It just felt like she was being carried aloft and flying toward her final resting place.

  By the time Bryce had found the door to the disused utility room in which Saira had been bound and left to suffocate, he was sure he was too late. Her limp body was slumped in a chair and her breathing was so shallow that he almost missed it as he tore free her restraints, fearing she had died because he was too late. Then he felt a faint, thread pulse and knew there was still time to save her.

  Hoping he was still able to get a signal so far below ground and beneath the many feet of reinforced concrete that lined the bunker, Bryce keyed his throat mic and sent an urgent call to Simon, requesting immediate medical assistance. He’d maintained radio silence up to now, per mission protocol but now that protocol had been thrown out the window. This was no longer a mission but a life threatening situation and his former employers were the only ones he could call upon to help save the life of an innocent girl.

  He gave the coordinate
s and removed his earpiece before he received any acknowledgement of his distress call. There simply wasn’t time. He had to get Saira out of there and to the rendezvous with the medical evac chopper immediately, or there would be no hope of saving her.

  Throwing Saira’s near lifeless form over his shoulder, Bryce ran with all the speed his legs could muster up the concrete stairs, down the long corridor and burst out into the cool night just as an alarm siren began to wail. He’d known it was only a matter of time before someone sounded the alarm.

  With nowhere to run, he had only one chance to save himself and the girl. He shifted into his dragon form as soon as he reached the open compound and scooped Saira up in one of his huge claws, locking his talons around her as he beat his powerful wings, taking them skyward and beyond the reach of their foul and malevolent enemy.

  But deep inside his dragon, Bryce feared that Saira had been deprived of oxygen for too long. He urged his dragon to take wing and beat an urgent path to his manor.

  Chapter 12

  Cresting the last rise before the manor house came into view, the dragon’s keen eyes scanned the surrounding lawned areas for signs of the medical evac helicopter. The fields and lawns were empty. Bryce’s heart sunk. The message hadn’t been received. He should have risked being shot or captured at the compound and tried to save Saira on the spot with first aid. At least she might have had some chance. Now he’d lost her. He’d had one chance and he blew it.

  Then, much to Bryce’s surprise and relief, a series of bright landing lights began to glow in the center of the lawn in front of the manor house. A large, brightly lit circle took shape as the last of the lights in the sequence illuminated. The helipad was lighting up ready to receive an inbound chopper. The automated landing and guidance system had coded to the approaching helicopters transponder and was guiding it to the landing zone.