Day of the Dragon--Two full books for the price of one

by Katie MacAlister

  He said nothing.

  “After all,” I pointed out, still mildly miffed by his attitude toward me, “you may not have had an easy life before, but you have to be sitting awfully darned pretty now if you can spend the sort of money you spent on a manuscript leaf. You spent more than five years of my wages on a piece of vellum and a bit of gold leaf.”

  He snorted.

  “Don’t you snort at me so dismissively, dragon boy.” I broke into a trot to keep up with him.

  “Master. I am a dragon master, not a boy.”

  “Some of us have learned to overcome the shit life gives us, you know.”

  “And you think I have not?” His eyes were as pale as the moon that hung heavy in the sky.

  “I think you have probably done exactly that, but somewhere along the way, you forgot what it was like to be less than perfect. Maybe people started doing things for you because you have a pretty face. Soon you expected it, for no other reason than you were a handsome man. I work for one of your type. Edgar is a bastard, but he’s a handsome bastard, and don’t think he doesn’t use that for everything he can get. You’re a hundred times more gorgeous than him, so I can just imagine what goes on in that mind of yours. You may have had a rough start to your life, but I bet it wasn’t long before all you had to do was snap your fingers and you’d get what you want. The world isn’t that kind to the rest of us, Archer. Some of us were born struggling with what we were given, and we remain struggling all our lives.”

  “Is it my fault that others did not work to prosper as I did?” His voice still had an edge to it, but it hurt less, like he was thinking about what I said.

  A warm glow spread within me. Only my grandmother had ever truly listened to me. “Of course not. You are to be commended for what you’ve made of your life. Even if thinking about it being seven hundred years long is a big of a mind blower. And just so you know, we’re going to sit down with a digital recorder one day, and I’m going to interview the hell out of you about what you lived through. You’re a historian’s wet dream.”

  He made a face but continued to walk. Despite my irritation, I wanted badly to take his hand, but the comment about us not dating had me hesitating to make such a familiar gesture. I knew that to some men, sex—while being the most personal of all interactions—was purely functional, with little meaning beyond that. Perhaps Archer was like that. Perhaps he wouldn’t like it if I assumed that because we’d had an extremely good time in the forest, I could take his hand whenever I wanted. Or brush a strand of hair back off his brow. Or just stand close to him, so I could feel his heat.

  I edged a little closer to him, so my hand would naturally touch his while we walked, just in case he wanted to hold my hand.

  “I do not understand what point you are trying to make,” he said, his voice back to its normal rich, deep tones. His brother might have gotten all the silkiness, but Archer’s voice seemed to thrum deep inside of me.

  “I think that perhaps you could view the plight of others with a little more compassion. Not all of us are able to do with our lives what you did with yours.” My hand bumped his again. Dammit, why didn’t he take the hint?

  He said nothing.

  “I hate to pry, so feel free to tell me if this is too personal, but I told you I had a wicked curiosity, and I don’t understand how your parents could abandon you as a baby. What was it they wanted you to be that you weren’t?”

  “A dragon hunter.” He looked moody now, his face all harsh shadows and angular planes. “We were to be the first, but we didn’t come out…right.”

  “You were supposed to hunt your own family?” I asked, aghast.

  “No. Dragon hunters are dragons who hunt demonic beings. They have mastery over such beings beyond what others do. My parents once dreamed of a race that would serve the mortal and immortal worlds alike, each dragon hunter a perfect balance of dragon and demon, the dragon to provide the strength and resolve and the demon to give the ability to defeat others of its kind. But we were not born with a balance.”

  I was almost afraid to ask. “What happened?”

  “I am a dragon,” he said simply.

  The implication hit me like a plank to the face. “So your brother is—”

  “Yes.” He skewed me a hard look. “That is why you must not heed anything he says to you. There is no dragon in him, only darkness.”

  “How tragic.” I felt an odd sort of sympathy for Hunter. Until I remembered how he refused to even consider letting Bree and me go. “For parents to do that…it’s just unthinkable. How about Devon?”

  He shot me a confused look. “What about it?”

  “As a name. It’s a nice name. I’ve always liked it. You could be Devon.”

  “No.”

  “Okay. Charles.”

  “No.”

  “You’re right, that’s way too average for you. Um…” I spread my fingers wide, so they would be extra pokey when my hand moved against his. “Phoenix?”

  “That is a city, not a name.”

  “It could be both. Tristan?”

  “No.”

  “Gerard. Martin. Fahrvergnügen.”

  The look he gave me was priceless.

  “All right, we’ll give up on that for a while,” I said, all but stabbing him with my little finger. Was the man dense? Clueless? Numb in the hand region? “Why don’t you tell me about your storm dragons?”

  “What do you want to know about them?”

  “How many people are in your group?”

  “Tribe. More than seventy.”

  I made a fist and swung it into his hand. “I have to say, this is all really fascinating from a scholarly standpoint. I recall mentions of dragons in some older texts, but I never had any idea that they were referring to a race of actual beings.”

  “We have existed almost as long as man has.”

  “Dammit, Archer!” I stopped and glared at him.

  He walked on a few steps, then turned back and looked at me with an obvious question in his shadowed eyes.

  “Are you going to hold my hand or not?” The words were blurted out before I realized it.

  He looked at my hand, then back up to me. “You just finished telling me you don’t want a romantic partner.”

  “Gah!” I yelled, and stomped forward past him, ignoring him when he held out a hand for me. Infuriating, irritating…I bit back all the words I wanted to call him, knowing I had no one but myself to blame.

  “I am a strong, independent woman. I do not need a man. I am perfectly happy as I am. Hot forest dragon sex is not of vital importance to my happiness. I have my gran, and that’s the only person I need in my life.”

  “You are not at all what I expected,” Archer said, once again at my side (damn his long legs). His voice held mingled notes of both amusement and annoyance. “Not that I thought to ever find a mate.”

  “You haven’t. I’m human.”

  “I have seen other dragon’s mates, ones from septs. They do not argue with their dragons.”

  It was my turn to snort derisively.

  “They are supportive. Undemanding.” He thought for a moment. “They follow their dragon’s wishes.”

  “Then it’s a good thing I’m not your mate, because I am so not any of those things.”

  “I believe this will end up being good,” Archer continued in a meditative tone. I refused to look at him. I did notice, however, that he didn’t try to take my hand again. For some reason, that made a hysterical little giggle well up inside of me. “It will keep us from being bored with each other over the centuries.”

  “You’re quite, quite insane.”

  “No, but I suspect you may drive me there.”

  I gawked at him for a moment, but his lips twitched. I smacked him on the arm. “I can’t think of anything worse than spending the rest of my life with you.”

  I regretted the words the instant they left my lips. I felt Archer withdraw from me even though he didn’t physically move away. I tried to
stop him to apologize and explain what I meant, but he kept walking.

  “I’m so sorry. Archer, stop.” I dashed in front of him, my hands on his chest. “I’m sorry, that came out wrong.”

  “You do not need to apologize,” he said in a stiff voice fraught with dignified injury.

  “Yes, I do, because I blurted out only part of what I was thinking. The whole thought was that I can’t think of anything worse than spending my life with a man who is so handsome, and so interesting as you, because women will constantly be throwing themselves on him. On you. I’m not…” I struggled for the words, ashamed that I had said something that had hurt him but not wanting to bare my dirty secrets.

  “You’re not what?” he unbent enough to ask.

  “I’m…oh, God’s wounds! I’m jealous, okay? I’m a horribly jealous person. My ex-boyfriend told me that was why he hooked up with other women, because he couldn’t stand me being so possessive. And with you being so sexy you could steam a nun’s socks at fifty paces, and chock-full of historical information that could probably fill an encyclopedia, I’d be a raving lunatic trying to deal with all the women who would be sucked onto you like you were a magnet and they were a bit of iron. Don’t you see? What we did in the forest was the best sexual experience of my life, and to be honest, in the top five of overall life experiences. Okay, top two, but we can’t do it again because then I’ll start to get attached to you, and after that…well, it’s not pretty.”

  He stared at me for the count of six, then tangled his fingers in my hair, pulling my head back so that my mouth was angled up to his. “You are my mate. I am yours. I will never give you cause to be jealous, just as you never give me a reason to doubt your fidelity.” He kissed me, his mouth hot and hard and not at all gentle. But when I slid a hand up his chest, he made that noise in his chest again and wrapped us in fire.

  “Does that make things clearer in your mind?”

  I blinked, touching my lips when he pulled away from me. “Huh?” My brain was a muddled mix of thoughts of him, of his fire and his body, and how much I wanted to repeat the forest scene. It was then I noticed my fingers were on fire. “My fingers are…on…fire,” I said, so shocked I didn’t know whether to scream or cry. Oddly, the heat didn’t hurt. It felt like a gentle warmth, one that almost tickled.

  “Dragon fire will not hurt you,” he said, seeing the panic in my eyes. “Your ability to control my fire is another sign you are my mate.”

  “It’s so…hoo. I don’t know if I can get used to this,” I said, watching the flames flicker.

  “Come. The car is just around this bend.”

  I stayed where I was, watching the fire. It was mesmerizing.

  He sighed, came back to me, and patted out the fire, then took my hand and led me forward.

  “That was seriously awesome. But, oh, man, I am so in over my head.”

  “Yes, but all will become clear to you with time.”

  The car loomed up before us, reminding me there were more important things going on in my life. I gave him a long look and gestured toward his back. “Do you want me to drive? You’re hurt. It can’t feel good to lean back against a seat.”

  “I’ve had worse injuries,” was all he said, opening a door for me. I hurriedly got my seat belt on, noting the lines of pain around his mouth when he did the same. He might claim that it was no big deal that he’d torn off half the flesh on his back, but it had to be almost unbearable.

  I rallied another subject suitable for distracting him from the pain that I could still see in his face. “I get that Hunter is Mr. Bad, but why do you keep saying he wants to reclaim me?”

  “He took you.” He frowned as he drove, his eyes watchful. “He must have some nefarious plan for you. He can’t know you’re my mate.” He stopped, then glanced at me. “Unless you told him.”

  “Of course I did.” I stared out the window, watching the shadows slip past us. “I tell everyone I meet. Did you not see the billboard on the outskirts of town announcing our matedom?”

  He said nothing.

  “As a matter of fact, your brother hired me to do a job.” I slid him a thoughtful look. “He has a photocopy of the leaf you bought from Edgar, you know.”

  The car swerved for a moment.

  He swore in Magyar, the language of Hungary. “He showed it to you?”

  “Yes.” I made sure he had control of the car before I continued. “He hired me to decipher it, but I told him I wouldn’t. Which brings me back to the subject that I broached earlier tonight—”

  “He hired you?” Confusion was written all over his handsome face, visible by the glow of the dashboard lights. I spent a moment admiring the line of his jaw, wishing I could run my fingers along it, and kiss the shadow of stubble. “Why?”

  “Because deciphering medieval codes is one of my hobbies.” I looked out the window again, having another mental argument with my libido.

  He didn’t say anything for a few seconds, but he shot me a couple of curious glances. Finally, he said, “Miles researched translators but did not mention you. Do you decipher manuscripts professionally?”

  “Sometimes. There’s not a lot of untranslated texts out there, but every now and again I get a crack at one.” I smiled to myself. “Have you heard of the Voynich Manuscript?”

  “Yes. It is undecipherable, most likely nothing but a collection of symbols that have no actual meaning.”

  My smile grew a tiny bit smug. “Not entirely undecipherable.”

  He shot me another questioning glance. “You broke the code?”

  “Part of it, yes. There’s another man who was making some headway with another section, and we had just agreed to join forces when Edgar made me stop. He said it was a waste of time working on projects where I wasn’t bringing in money to the shop.” Anger fired in me at the memory of the fight we’d had over that, but since I knew now my time with him wouldn’t last beyond me giving him back Archer’s leaf, I let the negative emotions go. “And speaking about that, your leaf—”

  “I must make a call.” He touched a button on the dash, causing his phone to go into speaker mode and dial a number. “The woman he stole is a scholar,” he said in Proto-Balto-Slavic. “She can translate the leaf.”

  His buddy whistled into the phone and answered in the same language, “That’s a stroke of luck, since the man I contacted said he had a family emergency. I guess it’s a good thing you all but steamed her knickers off last night, eh?”

  My eyes widened. Archer slid me a fast look before answering, “He has a copy of the manuscript.”

  “How did he get that?” Miles swore. “He’ll come looking for her, then.”

  “Yes. We must keep her safe. From him.”

  “Agreed. Take her to bed. She’ll follow you anywhere after you fuck her a few times.”

  I bit my lower lip and looked out the window again, tears of embarrassment pricking the backs of my eyes. That bastard. Both of them! So that’s why Archer was so happy to have forest sex. He just wanted to make me fall for him so I’d do whatever he wanted.

  At which my inner self pointed out that he didn’t know what I did before I told him just half a minute ago. I stopped trying to set fire to Archer with my mind.

  “She doesn’t deserve such crudeness,” Archer told his friend in a gritty voice, causing me to peek at him. Did he just defend me in some weird way? “Keep your mind on your responsibilities, and do not interfere with mine.”

  “I suggest using your tongue,” Miles said with a laugh. “Her twat may not be very pretty, but at least you won’t have to look at her face.”

  I imagined a dartboard with Miles’s face on it. It didn’t give me enough satisfaction. I substituted Miles’s face itself for the dartboard and smiled.

  Archer said a rude word and hung up. “They should be just ahead,” he said after a couple of seconds of silence.

  I alternated between needing to crawl into a corner so I could have a good cry and beating Miles over the head. I ab
solved Archer of all suspicions, since it was obvious he wasn’t of the same mind as his foul-mouthed, and fouler-minded, cousin, but regardless, I couldn’t help but wonder if there was another reason he might want me to have the hots for him.

  We rolled to a stop at a turnout. Waiting next to a sign describing the view were two shadows, which quickly detached themselves and hurried over to the car.

  Archer hit the door locks so Bree and Miles could get into the car, but rather than climb in the back as I expected, Miles pulled open my door, gesturing at me, clearly expecting me to get out.

  “Get in the back,” Archer told him, frowning. “They could be right behind us if they are in the area.”

  “You know I hate riding in the back.” He reached for my seat belt while Archer swore under his breath. I slapped Miles’s hand off me, undoing the buckle myself and snatching my purse off the floor as I got out of the car.

  He smiled and held the back door open. Bree was about to get in when I made a fist and punched Miles in the nose as hard as I could. His head snapped back, sending him staggering backward a few steps until he stumbled over a rock and fell.

  “Come on, Bree.” I grabbed her wrist and started off toward the road.

  “Oh, good one, Thaisa!” She peered over her shoulder, giggling. “He’s up again. Ouch, I think you may have broken his nose.”

  “Good. I wash my hands of the pair of them. We’ll walk home.” I disregarded the fact that walking home was not the wisest move in the world. Somehow, we’d do it. Even if Hunter tried to nab us again. I had my pepper spray, after all.

  “Oooh,” she said, glancing back again. “I didn’t see this coming.”

  I didn’t either, but it felt good. It felt very good.

  Except the part where I walked away from Archer.

  Chapter Eight

  ARCHER COULDN’T BELIEVE HIS EYES, BUT AS HE lunged out of the car, his back screaming at the movement, he had the oddest urge to laugh. Of course Thaisa had punched Miles in the nose for no reason. He was coming to expect the unexpected from her.

  She might not be the ideal dragon mate, but he realized that an ideal mate might be intolerably boring.