by T. S. Joyce
“What’s your favorite thing about flying?”
Kane cast a long glance past her to the sky. “Sitting by the window.”
Rowan frowned. And he’d given up his window seat for her? “Why?”
Kane made a tick behind his teeth and pushed the earbuds into his ears. And right before he turned up the volume and drowned her out completely, he said, “Because it makes me feel like I’m flying.”
Chapter Two
Kane hid his smile as Rowan Barnett told everyone around her goodbye—individually. She’d successfully driven everyone sitting around them on the second plane insane with her nervous ramblings.
Especially him.
Nah, that was a lie. Kane found her amusing as hell, and a great distraction from the long plane rides. Since he couldn’t fall asleep at the risk of her taking more damned pictures, he had eventually turned down the volume on his music and listened to her unload a fireworks show of life stories.
She’d panicked again when they’d switched onto the small prop plane in Charlotte, North Carolina, and surprise surprise, they happened to be sitting right next to each other again. He smelled a rat, and that rat was a fire-breathing Bloodrunner Dragon named Damon Daye.
“I’m sorry I touched your ass and licked your hand on our first flight,” Rowan said from behind him, way too damn close. Normally, he liked a lot of personal space, but his instinct wasn’t even to run right now. He blamed that on the amount of time he’d spent beside her today. Right beside her since she’d fallen asleep on his shoulder for the last short flight. Didn’t even try to use the window, just plopped her cheek onto him and announced, “I’m tired, night night.”
Kane cleared his throat gruffly. “It’s fine.”
“So you forgive me for freaking out? Sorry ma’am. I didn’t mean to get you. Oh! I’m making it worse. Sorry.” Rowan was wrestling with her carry-on bag, which was eye-scorching pink like her ripped-up shirt. She’d turned the damn thing into a weapon and was pinball-whacking everyone around her.
To save her from yet another verbal lashing, and to save the other passengers from concussions, Kane turned and yanked the bag from her grip. “I’ve got it.”
“Gentleman!” she exclaimed with a boner-inducing smile.
Kane snorted and looked straight ahead, shaking his head for the fiftieth time since he’d gotten on the plane. No one had ever accused him of being a gentleman. This lady was a trip.
Why was the line going so damn slow? These people needed to hurry up and get off the fuckin’ plane already.
As much as she seemed harmless, Rowan housed one of the biggest dragons left on earth. It made his hair lift on the back of his neck to have her behind him. Even bubbly, she made the air like cement in his lungs. The humans probably didn’t even know they were in the presence of a monster. That’s what she was. He’d seen it in her eyes when she was having that panic attack. They’d turned the color of melted gold, and her pupils had elongated like a snake’s. And she’d smelled of smoke and death.
Whatever she was doing in Asheville, he didn’t like it. Rival dragons in his territory didn’t bode well for him. Any blood relative of Damon Daye was a direct threat to Kane. Rowan could very well be the end of him.
He moved off the plane with the crowd and handed her bag back. God, what an awful color. He couldn’t even look at it. Rowan walked beside him, practically bouncing with every step, which was really distracting because she was wearing a non-padded strappy sports bra under the ripped-up tank top, and her tits were bouncing. He could be fucking mesmerized by them if he didn’t keep his head. His big one. His smaller head was apparently already devoted to her and getting harder by the minute. He needed to get away from her, and fast.
“Have a nice life, Bloodrunner,” he muttered, ticking his lips up in a quick, empty smile for her.
Rowan shouldered her bag and kept in step with him. “So do you live in Asheville?”
Kane sighed and squeezed his eyes closed so he would stop staring at her tits. “What?”
“Asheville. Do you live here? It’s a really small airport, way smaller than the other one. How do we get our bags? I have to get my suitcase as fast as possible. Guess why.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Just guess! It’ll be fun.”
“Woman, I’m tired and ready to get on the road, and I don’t want to play whatever game you’re running.” Plus, his boner was getting worse, and people were going to be able to tell soon. He adjusted his hoodie over his dick and walked faster.
Rowan had the legs of a fuckin’ gazelle, though, and sped up right along with him. He growled and rounded on her. “Are you here to kill me?”
Rowan ran into him. “Shit, Kane, you can’t stop that fast in front of me. I’m clumsy as—wait, what? Why would I kill you?”
“Did Damon send you?”
Now she looked baffled. And beautiful. She was tall and blond, just his fucking type. Her hair was piled up on her head in a messy bun, and her cheeks were freckled. She wasn’t a stick either. She had those fuck-me curves, soft tits, and an ass that would feel just right in his hands. Big blue eyes, pixie lips, and her lashes were dark. Hell, if she was some human tailing him, he’d have taken her in the bathroom and had her panting his name in no time. But she was Rowan Barnett. She was untouchable. She was a quick death by fire.
She was his assassin.
“Look, it’s too big a coincidence that you sit in the seats right next to me on both planes from Damon’s territory to Asheville. Out of all the flights in the entire world, you land on mine? No. Why the fuck are you so intent on talking to me? On getting closer? On asking me questions and taking pictures?”
Her sandy blond brows had lowered the more he talked, as if his words were hurting her, but she was a dragon. She wasn’t this ditzy, bubbly shell she pretended to be. It was cute as hell, but that was the lure, right?
“I don’t understand. Do you know Damon?”
Kane huffed a humorless laugh and strode off. He wasn’t going to listen to bullshit. Whatever she was getting at, he wasn’t playing.
“You’re being really mean.” Rowan sounded confused, but at least she didn’t sound right in his ear anymore. At least she was backing off.
He needed that because, right now, his chest and head were buzzing with some strange sensation that made everything blurry. It was like anger, distrust, want, hope, despair, and desperation all rolled into one, and for what? She would be out of his life in twenty minutes. All he had to do was grab his suitcase and leave her ass here to do whatever she was going to do in this territory.
His fucking leg hurt. It was that bone deep burn that wouldn’t go away, but it was always worse after sitting down for a long time. Rowan was probably watching him, and he hated that. Hated that she was witnessing how weak he was, and he couldn’t do a goddamned thing about it. Everybody stared. He wished he could stop limping, but it was impossible. He’d done the physical therapy.
This was as good as he got.
Kane pulled the hood of his sweatshirt farther over his head and ducked his chin to his chest so he could avoid the hell out of the stares as he made his way to baggage claim. When the chills lifted on the back of his neck again, Kane turned suspiciously. Rowan was following him at a distance, her chin tucked, her neck exposed. Those fucking gorgeous baby blues looked all sad and made him want to…want to…fix…something.
“I’m not trying to stalk you. I just don’t know where to go,” Rowan called, slowing even more.
Kane turned back around and did his best to ignore the instinct to duck out the side door and forget about his luggage.
He didn’t understand her. He knew the facts—Rowan Barnett, age twenty-five, the only daughter of the Gray Back alpha, Creed, and his mate Gia. Beast Bloodrunner dragon, as big as Damon’s monster, and a fire-breather and lava-spewer to boot. She was one of the last great beasts of the skies. Went to school in Damon’s Mountains, didn’t go to college, never moved away from
her crew. That was all he’d been able to dig up when he was familiarizing himself with his enemies. She’d stayed at the heart of Damon’s Mountains her entire life, and now she was here, in his territory, making no damned sense. The titan she hid shouldn’t be caged by this bubbly, submissive personality. It had to be a lie. She was an actress and deserved a standing ovation.
There was a hundred percent chance she was sent by Damon to gather info on him, or outright kill him. Maybe it was because he was of breeding age now. He could spread Blackwing dragon genetics. Maybe. He didn’t know. Damon didn’t understand Kane wasn’t a threat to him or anyone else. Not anymore.
He wouldn’t risk putting The Darkness in a kid, and besides…he wasn’t the kind to pair up. His life was a disaster, and he was an asshole, but he still had his head on straight enough. He wouldn’t ever hurt a woman by tethering her to him. He was doing the world a favor by staying alone, so why was Damon threatened now?
And why the fuck had Damon Daye sent Rowan to hunt him?
He’d been sharing territory with Harper Keller for months and hadn’t ever posed a threat, but then Rowan ends up in the seat next to him? No. This reeked of Damon intervention. Fate was a lie, and Rowan crashing into his life like a giant blinding meteor didn’t happen without help.
Kane was being set up.
He waited for his suitcase on the opposite side of the baggage claim from Rowan. It took forever. Almost everyone had picked up their luggage and gone by the time his came out. God, he had to piss. He was so tempted to hold it, but it was a long-ass drive from Asheville to Bryson City.
Rowan was still waiting, the last one here, looking panicked. As Kane made his way to the restroom, he could hear her voice echoing after him as she asked someone if there were any more bags coming.
Not his problem, not his concern. The last damsel in distress he had tried to help, his entire life had been ruined.
But when he got out, Rowan was still at the baggage claim, and now she was crying. She lifted her eyes up to him hopefully, but he ripped his gaze away from her. He wasn’t falling for this shit. He gave a two fingered wave and strode out the exit. But as he walked along the wall of windows toward the parking lot, Rowan didn’t look like someone who was playing damsel. She broke down. Just…shoulders shaking, sobbing, looking around for help, but it was late, and that was the last flight, and no one was in this part of the airport.
She’d told him to guess what was in her suitcase, and now a sick feeling unfurled in his gut.
He stopped in front of the window and just watched her. Again and again, she checked the mouth of the baggage claim, but the lights flashed twice, and the track stopped turning.
Kane let off an explosive sigh and glared at the parking lot. He was so damn close to freedom. Shaking his head again, he limped back inside. “What’s in the case?” he asked her.
Rowan sniffed and spun around, and damn, the look on her face gutted him. He’d never seen someone look so scared. Not since Jeremy Jacob. Bile crept up the back of his throat just thinking about the kid.
Two more tears streamed down her cheeks as she stammered, “M-my treasure is in one of my suitcases.”
“Shit.”
“I have to have it. I’ll get sick without it. The Sickening. I have to have it. I need it or I’ll die.” She sounded utterly panicked, and he got it. He’d seen Harper Keller when she was still undergoing The Sickening before she found her treasure. She’d smelled like blood and death. Just the thought of Rowan suffering the same slashed an unexpected pain through his chest.
“Come on. There will be someone working up front still. We’ll see where it is. They’ll be able to find it.”
Chapter Three
“But you don’t understand. I need it,” Rowan explained to the tired looking man behind the desk.
“Miss, I understand the bag is important to you, but it will take time to track it down. I simply don’t have it here for you. I wish I had a different answer, but I’ve been searching our system for nearly two hours now. It’s late, and my wife has dinner waiting at home for me. The airport is closed, and my resources are limited. I will get back on this first thing tomorrow, the second I come into work. I’ll call you the moment I have any information for you.” He shoved a card across the countertop.
Rowan plucked it from the shiny surface and read the name aloud. “Gary Folsome.”
“You can call me tomorrow and see if I have any updates on your bag. With the layover you had, though, I have two airports to search. It’s not here. I’ve gone through every leftover bag back there.”
Rowan’s face crumpled again, but Gary had been nice and had tried to help. It wasn’t his fault the bag was lost. Rowan nodded jerkily. “Okay. Can you point me to the rental cars?”
“Oh honey, the rental car counters closed two hours ago. You won’t get one of those tonight.”
Rowan’s shoulders sagged. “Are you serious?”
“I’m sorry. This isn’t your night, is it? Look, I would offer you a ride, but it’s against policy. Your man can probably track down a shuttle service for you, though.”
“My man?”
Gary gestured to Kane who was sitting on a bench seat across the hall and rubbing his leg as though it was aching. “I’m not her man,” Kane droned without even looking up.
Hmm. Good hearing on that one.
“Thanks, Mr. Gary.” Rowan lifted his business card up and forced a polite smile. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
Rowan wiped her eyes before she went back to Kane. He already thought her weak and pathetic, and right now she felt like it. Her dragon had curled up inside of her and was practically weeping for her lost treasure. She was exhausted, and her face felt swollen from crying. Her head hurt something fierce, and her night was just beginning. Now she had to figure out where to go until the morning.
“You ready?” Kane asked in a deep, gravelly voice. He sounded whooped, too.
“Ready for what?”
“Well, you can’t sleep in the airport tonight. Come on,” he said, easing to his feet. He shouldered his duffle bag and hers and rolled his suitcase behind him, leaving her to trail after him.
“Where are we going?”
“We aren’t going anywhere. I’m going to drop you off at a motel and get the fuck out of Asheville. Still stinks of vampires around here, and I’m ready to get back to my place.”
“Wait, there are vampires here?”
Her voice had jacked up an octave, and Kane gave her the strangest frown. “There used to be, and what the fuck are you scared of? That’s like a dog being worried about fleas. You’re a fucking dragon, princess. Act like it.”
“Rude. You don’t get to tell me how to act, Kane Dunderballs Franklin.”
“Not my name,” he said without turning around.
Rowan flipped him off behind his back, but Kane immediately said, “I saw that.”
“You know, you shouldn’t call me princess. I could set you on fire and devour your ashes.” Just the thought of being a man-eater made her want to gag, though, and Kane didn’t seem to take her seriously. He just shook his head like she was an idiot. He’d been doing that all day.
“I don’t have money for a motel,” she enlightened him. “I have enough for a rental car and food for three weeks until I can find a job here. I can just wait on one of the benches outside until morning.”
Kane tossed her a look and slowed, waited for her to catch up. “You’re a Bloodrunner Dragon.”
“So? Why do you keep pointing that out?”
“You being a Bloodrunner means you are blood-related to Damon Daye, one of the richest men in the world. And you can’t afford a motel?”
“Damon has money. Doesn’t mean I siphon it from him.”
“Why not?” Kane asked as they walked through the sliding glass doors and out into the cool, dark night.
“Is that what you think of me? You did your little Internet search on the Bloodrunner Dragons or whatever, and then you
met me, and that’s where your first impression went to? I’m just some mooch off my family? You have a mighty low opinion of people, Kane.”
“Not low, I’m just a realist. You have a need. Damon has the money.”
Rowan sighed. “It’s not like he hasn’t offered to dig me out of tight spots, but…”
“But what?”
Kane was so ready to judge her, it was hard to explain it in a way where he would understand her and not think her stupid. Which she was. Brains weren’t her gift. But deep inside, she really really wanted Kane to think better of her. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me.”
And she wanted to. She wanted to let him in a little bit. He borderline hated her, but he was the first helpful person she’d met outside of Damon’s Mountains, and Dad had always said, “Look for the helpers. Look for the ones who immediately put themselves out to lift someone else up. They’re the good ones.”
Kane was a good one.
“I couldn’t be completely independent.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, I had to stay with the crew I grew up in, in the mountains I grew up in, with the people I grew up with. But when I made my own money, I could live with that. I bought my own trailer, my own home, paid for all my own stuff, even if money got tight. And I’m no brainy girl, Kane. I didn’t do college. I barely passed high school. I got my own job, though, not from Damon, and paid my own way, and I’ll never ask anyone for money. Not ever. I might not be smart, or brave, or good in crowds, but I can pay for my own stuff.”
Kane had watched her as she’d spoken, but he still looked frowny, as though she confused him even more. Dismay filled her. She had that effect on people, but it sucked that Kane was like everyone else.
“Fair enough, but you can’t stay out here all night. Security is pretty strict about lurkers. I’m tired and hungry, and I don’t have it in me to worry about you finding your damn treasure or sleeping outside, so I’ll pay for a room.”