by fox, angie
I wound my fingers around a wide dorsal spike at the base of his neck. Its blunt tip curved upward, like a saddle horn.
He snorted, his warm breath washing over my stiff fingers. For this one night, this one mission, we’d come together. And so I braced myself as he shuddered and leapt off the helipad.
chapter six
We hung in midair for a split second before he dove low. My stomach jolted at the sudden drop. Show-off. It reminded me of the times I’d flown with him back home.
He had no fear, which was good, because I had plenty for both of us.
Back in the day, we’d take long, hot baths after flying. Marc had never been a big tub guy until I showed him just how fun it could be to lick off the water droplets one by one.
I zapped the memory before I could dwell on it too much. I didn’t need to be thinking of Marc that way. He was my past. And he was on the other side. Permanently.
Tonight was just a fluke—a brief moment in time. We were together to investigate the circumstances behind Dr. Keller’s disappearance. Nothing more.
Knees tight against Marc’s flanks, I clutched the thick spike at the back of his neck with one hand. The other, I used to cradle his clothes to my chest. I should have stuffed them into the duffel bag strapped over my shoulder. I would have, if I hadn’t been so distracted by him in the first place.
Wind tore through my ponytail as he skirted the rocky plain beyond the helipad. We flew so low that I could make out the shadows of rocks in the moonlight.
I squeezed my legs tighter and felt a tingle of excitement.
To be fair, it wasn’t every day I snuck out of camp to watch a sexy-as-sin ex-lover strip naked and shift into a dragon.
God, I’d forgotten how beautiful he was. Or more likely, I’d shoved it out of my mind.
That didn’t matter now. I was just glad he’d waited for me. It was the least he could do, considering I still didn’t know how we were going to survive once we hit the Great Divide. Or how I was going to face a murdered soul without it trying to kill me, possess me, or worse.
I readjusted my grip on the clothes and shoes I held tight against my body—his clothes. They still held his body heat, his warm male scent.
Enough. I focused on the dark desert, and the bright moon. I didn’t need to be thinking about Marc as a man. I liked him as a dragon. We’d make better time flying than we ever could have otherwise. Plus, this way I didn’t have to talk to him. Or risk anything else.
Wind buffeted my legs as his body flexed under me, his wings beating in a comforting rhythm.
Yes, a dragon was much better than Marc naked. I’d forgotten just how tight and powerful he was. Many of the doctors I’d known had let their bodies go, even in medical school. Marc had been a swimmer and it showed.
He’d been my first love, ever since he was my head resident and sent one of the techs to the lab to get fallopian tubes. His joke had flopped when the tech started thinking about it halfway to the lab, but it didn’t matter. I’d fallen hard and fast.
I glanced behind us at the endless desert stretching out into the darkness.
I romanced him by having his least favorite orderly transport a body to the morgue, a body that then came blood-chillingly back to life and had the orderly screaming through the hospital and out into the parking lot. I’d never seen that woman move so fast in her life. Of course there were no real zombies in New Orleans, none that I’d ever met anyway.
Still, with the right makeup, I could be quite convincing.
Marc wised up and took me out for a round of oysters at Cooter Brown’s. I took him home to meet my family. I was never one to play games, and I knew I wanted to be with him. He’d wanted to be with me.
Until he’d been dropped straight into limbo.
An unearthly screech echoed across the desert, and I felt Marc tense. I turned toward the sound and saw a pack of dark creatures barreling straight for us.
Marc growled and I left my stomach somewhere on the ground as we rocketed straight up into the night. “Wait!” I felt like I was hanging in midair, my legs losing their grip on his back.
Sweet mother.
I grabbed him with both hands, clinging to the back of his neck. Hard curved spikes pressed against my chest as I willed myself to hold on. He wouldn’t drop me. I couldn’t fall.
Tears clung to the corners of my eyes, cold and frightening as we leveled off and spun straight for the pack of large flying things. They almost looked like giant vultures, slick and spindly in the moonlight.
Marc roared, icy air blasting out of his mouth, and I saw the creatures for what they were—flying imps.
I slammed my forehead into the cool scales of his neck. I didn’t even know imps could fly. We were heading straight for them. Marc tensed under me as screeches filled the air. Leathery wings beat at my back. I prepared myself for the sharp clawing of talons, for them to rip me off Marc’s back and make me fall.
But I only felt Marc’s strong body underneath me, his breath raw and ragged.
Gasping, I raised my head to see past Marc’s long, curved neck. There was only empty sky and the full moon beyond.
“Where’d they go?” I whipped around to look over my shoulder.
The whole pack of them trailed us about fifty feet back. They flew close and disorganized, snapping at one another as their wings collided. But they didn’t attack. Not yet, at least.
Marc dove close to the ground again, keeping a firm driving pace. No question he knew they were right on our tail, but he didn’t charge them again. We kept flying, straight and low.
It seemed that speed was more important than victory over the wildlife of limbo.
“Okay.” A shudder ran through me. If they could attack me, if they could swoop in and snatch me, I had to think he’d take them down, or at least try. I wound my fingers more tightly around the blunt spike at the back of his neck. “We’ll get through this,” I told myself.
I almost believed it.
But here I was, whole and uninjured and, I realized with a start, gripping Marc with both hands. “Oh hell.” I’d dropped his uniform somewhere over the desert.
I rolled my left shoulder and felt the pull of the strap and the weight of the duffel resting on my back. Marius’s gun lay heavy in my pocket. This was going to be fun to explain. I had my things. Marc was the only one who was going to have to walk around naked.
Maybe I could lend him my Zephyrs jacket. That would cover the top, at least.
Heat blasted us from below. Squinting, I saw lava tracing across the desert floor like an insidious growth. It glowed orange hot against the blackness. My legs and feet warmed as if I were standing too close to a BBQ grill.
Keep that thought. BBQ grill. Not hot lava.
Energy crackled in the air. It weighed hard on my chest. With every breath, I could sense us drawing closer to the armies.
Sweat trickled down my back. It felt like the moment before a violent storm, when every living thing, on the most primitive level, knows to run, to hide, to seek shelter before the onslaught. Instead I held on with all my strength as we advanced.
With every beat of Marc’s wings, I could feel the energy thicken. It wound low in my belly and tingled along my spine. I felt rough, wild.
Flames from the soldier’s camps burned hot on the horizon. The Great Divide stood dark and menacing between them, a no-man’s-land, crackling with power. It reached out to me like a living, breathing thing.
Marc beat his wings harder, raising us higher. Soon I saw why. Giant tubes scattered across the desert floor. They glowed red against the rivers of molten rock. With great, snuffling pops, they sent lava flying into the air like mini geysers.
I could feel the heat of each burst through my combat boots.
Holy hell. Is this what our evac people saw every day? No wonder they didn’t like to send mortal doctors too close to the front.
Dotted among the flaming geysers were large flat rocks that reminded me of giant cave formations.
The energy was palpable now, a slow steady pounding that thundered through my veins and slid with an aching familiarity over my skin.
We’d lost the imps, which was as frightening as it was a relief. If minions of the devil didn’t want to be here, what business did we have?
Shoulders hunched, I hugged my knees and my thighs closer to Marc as he circled one of the flat rocks. I couldn’t believe he was actually getting closer to the ground and the geysers.
I felt the heat on my face, then a lurch as his talons hit the surface and we came to a shuddering stop.
“Here?” I asked.
He grunted, as if I were the crazy one.
“Okay, dragon boy. Don’t get huffy,” I said as steadily as I could. With a snort, I remembered how that used to drive him crazy back in New Orleans. He’d shift and then I’d start telling him how the Zephyrs were way better than the Saints (his favorite) or how I was going to paint his apartment pink (the most un-Marc-like color in existence).
It’s not like I was razzing him on purpose this time.
I pried my stiff fingers from their grip on Marc’s back and eased onto the ground, hoping my legs would hold me.
As I slipped away, I felt a keen sense of loss. Which was ridiculous.
Hands on my knees, I let the hard weight of my duffel slide off my shoulder and down onto the ground. “Nice meet-up you’ve got going here”—a flat rock in the middle of nowhere. I was both cold and hot. My skin flushed, my body trembling.
Get a grip.
I squinted as my eyes adjusted to the brightness of the lava bursts below us against the darkness of the night.
God, I hoped he knew what he was doing.
I gave him his privacy as he shifted behind me.
The barrenness of this place was overwhelming. The heat of it wound through me. I stared out at the blistering wasteland, at the distant battle lines of two massive armies.
Trembling, I checked for any sign of the imps. The air here was like a wild fire. Or liquid sex.
I felt myself grow wet.
This was ridiculous.
Hands unsteady, I rifled through my duffel, just to have something to do. Peachy. Part of Marc’s wardrobe had made it into my bag. I pulled out one very large, war-roughened combat boot. I chided myself because, hell, even that was sexy.
“What are we doing here?” I winced. I felt like we’d been dropped into a churning firestorm.
“We can’t cross the Great Divide without burning up.” His voice resonated low in my stomach. “We can’t skirt it without getting shot down.”
God, I was thirsty. I’d like nothing more than to lick a few water droplets from the hollow where his neck dipped into his collarbone.
No. It was the Great Divide talking, not me.
If I was going to have any sexy thoughts at all, they should be about Galen—who I would never see again.
Merde.
I flexed my free hand, refusing to look back at him. Marc was naked, I knew it. I didn’t need to be looking at that right now.
Focus. We couldn’t simply fly around the Great Divide without getting shot down. “What if we go really far out of our way?” Preferably now. We’d probably run into imps again, but, “We still have plenty of night.”
We had to get out of here. I could feel him behind me. I could probably touch him if I wanted to.
“Both sides have patrols and skirmishers,” he said. “I don’t know how far out. They’ve also set up charges at the edges of their lines. If we don’t get arrested, we’ll be incinerated. The safest way is to go straight through the old army lines.”
My heart thudded against my chest. “Naturally.” That was about as suicidal as coming here with him in the first place.
“We’re meeting my contact here.”
I swallowed. Was he as turned on as I was?
He touched my shoulder, and awareness rocketed through me. “Petra, are you all right?”
I faced him. If I’d thought he looked good from a distance, it was nothing like up close. He was leaner than I’d remembered. Harder. I took in the sculpted planes of his chest, the pure natural strength of him as his muscles tapered down to … sweet heaven.
My face flamed. He was hard.
And he was beautiful.
His gaze traveled down to where I was staring and he cleared his throat. “Do you have my clothes?”
My entire body flushed with embarrassment, but I couldn’t stop looking. Not for a million dollars. “I dropped them,” I said, giving myself a mental shake, “except for this.” I handed him the boot.
The skin at his forehead crinkled. “Well, I suppose this is better than nothing.”
I didn’t see how.
“Step back,” he said, moving me aside as lava pooled near one of my feet.
“Holy—” I leapt straight at him, colliding with warm skin and muscle.
“This way.” His eyes glittered as we both took several steps back. “We don’t want you to get incinerated because you couldn’t stop staring at my cock.”
I flushed straight down to my toes. “It’s this place.”
“Yes,” he said, stark hunger radiating from him. “It magnifies whatever you’re feeling. With the armies, it’s usually battle rage. With us, it seems to be…”
Lust. He didn’t have to say it. We both knew.
I struggled to untangle myself from him. “We can’t,” I said quickly, before I said something else.
“I know,” he rushed, his voice raw. Suddenly impatient, he brushed past me, focusing on the lava finger. “Hell, why do you think I stayed away from you before?”
I’d assumed it was because he didn’t want me. Now?
I was almost glad for small, homicidal lava creatures.
The line of magma seeped from the underside of the rock, straight for me. My duffel sat a few feet away, near the edge, untouched. Most of the rock was clear, in fact. “What is it doing? Following me?”
“In a manner of speaking.” He slipped a hand inside his boot and pounded the hard sole onto the ground. The lava shrank back like a frightened animal. “These are treated,” he said, matter-of-fact, showing me the red underside of the boot.
“How does it not freak you out?” It’s not like the lava was fast, but it would have been on me before I realized it. And then what? How do you shake off molten rock?
“You don’t get lava fingers in your camp?” he asked, somewhat surprised. “We must be closer to the front.”
Another reason to avoid MASH-19X.
My eyes darted over his body again. I couldn’t help it. He was sleek, gorgeous.
It was too much. Being here. With him. I felt like we were on some demented outdoor camping trip, only we were on a life-and-death mission and we certainly were not together.
“Tell me again why I agreed to do this,” I said, watching him flip the lava finger off the rock like a hairy spider.
“Because you always do the right thing.” He dropped the boot and closed the distance between us. The corner of his mouth tipped up as he drew me into his arms, “even if it annoys the hell out of you.”
It was so achingly familiar, like coming home. I wanted to sink into him and stay there.
I ran my hands along his shoulders, up his neck. I’d forgotten what it was like to have him close. “So this,” I said, to be clear, “this is just the Great Divide?”
“Yes.” He brushed his lips over mine once, twice. “Maybe.”
I was tired of fighting.
He nudged my lips open. I reveled in the hungry sweep of his tongue. This is what I’d needed, what I’d missed so desperately. Marc, straightforward and brave, vibrant and alive.
He moaned, threading his fingers through my hair.
A rush of desire slammed into me. He deepened the kiss. Or maybe that was me.
We pushed against each other, raw, sensual. The kiss intensified until we shoved against each other, wanting it, needing it.
I hadn’t decided this, I
hadn’t wanted this, I—
His breath came heavy and harsh against my mouth. “Goddamn it,” he ground against me.
I could feel him—all of him—hard and ready. My head swam and my pulse raced. I’d tried to forget this. Didn’t want to remember. “Was it ever this hot?”
His jaw was tight. “Yes,” he ground out.
His chest shone with a thin sheen of sweat. His cock jutted against the thin cotton of my pants. I ran my tongue over his collarbone, tasting the salt.
I wanted to touch him, to feel the weight of him in my hand.
Holy hell, I was a crazy person. I needed to stop, think, sing a tune. Anything.
Instead my fingers found his chest, his stomach, the dip of muscle at his hip. His breath hitched, or maybe it was mine.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
This wasn’t just the lava or the energy or the Great Divide. This was me and I knew it.
I didn’t need to be getting involved with Marc. I didn’t want to use him. It would only bring pain for both of us. I couldn’t have him. I shouldn’t even want him.
Walk away.
I could do it. It wasn’t too late to back off. Step away. Fling myself off this fricking rock if I had to. I dug my forehead against the curve of his shoulder and slammed my eyes shut.
“Petra.” His voice was rough.
Stop, Petra.
Leave me alone, Petra.
I don’t love you, Petra.
Say it. Say any of it.
“Do it,” he hissed as I inched my hand lower.
“You don’t know what you’re asking for.” I couldn’t have him. Ever.
And before I could think of a reason why not, he drew me up for a biting kiss. I didn’t want to think anymore. I wanted to touch him, drive him, push him to the wall. Revel in the fact that this man wanted me.
It was stupid and it was wrong and I knew a hundred reasons why I should walk away right now, but I couldn’t.
The energy sizzled over my skin, the desire.
His breath scalded my cheek. “Whatever you’re thinking, stop. Touch me. Now. Just this once.”
I reached down and took all of him, hot and heavy, in my hand.