Rare Form: Descended of Dragons, Book 1 (18 page)

BOOK: Rare Form: Descended of Dragons, Book 1
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Chapter 28

O
nce more I
stood at the front door of Gresham’s stately manner after Pia had alerted me to an invitation for coffee. After the encounter in my room with Gresham, I’ll admit to having taken a little extra time with my appearance than I probably would’ve otherwise. I threw on a black dress that was fitted at the waist and flared gently over my hips. I’d let my copper hair dry as it would, which today screamed “
Run those rough hands through me again
.”

My thoughts were all over the map about Gresham. Why had he invited me over? Did he regret what we did? I certainly didn’t. And though I thought I maybe
should
, I did not feel like he’d taken advantage of me in a difficult time. If anything, I had needed both the distraction and the comfort. It felt
good
to feel good.

Gresham answered the door without revealing any emotion himself, and searched my face. “Hi,” he said simply, his eyes crinkling at the corners when a genuine smile reached them.

“Hi,” I repeated, unable to help neither the goofy grin nor the heat that spread across my cheeks.

Gresham led me to his kitchen, where the smell of coffee and something else decadent made my stomach rumble in appreciation.

“Is that French toast?”

He nodded wickedly. “You hungry?”

“Starving.”

“Sit, sit. I’ll bring it to you.” I could sense his pleasure at my exuberance.

“And coffee?” I asked.

“And coffee.” Again with the crinkly eyes.
Oh. So dreamy.

Sealing his fate as a man I wanted very much to be naked with, Gresham brought steaming coffee, as well as real sugar and fresh cream. He made us both plates and sat across from me at the familiar banquette.

After a sip from his own cup, Gresham set it back down to the table before taking a deep breath. “So, last night was…”

“Wonderful.” I said aloud at the same time Gresham finished with “unexpected.”

“Dammit,” I whispered and turned my head to the side. ‘Unexpected’ was not a good sign that he was thrilled with the turn of events.

“No, Stella, don’t.” He reached across the table to take my hand. “I don’t mean that I didn’t want it, too. It’s just...I should never have let it go that far.”

“That far?” I blinked with genuine confusion. Irritated crept in at the implication he should have stopped me sooner. “Just how far did you intend for it to go? I mean, you came to my room in the middle of the night. You knew I’d been drinking. And the fact you wanted me was evident not just in your eyes, Gresham.” I darted my gaze pointedly at his pants.

“No, you’re absolutely right. I should never have come to your room. It’s not that I don’t want you. I do. Too much. I have since you kicked me in the bollocks in your apartment…”

“I knew it. You perv.”

“I… Dammit, Stella. I’m too old for you. I’m your mentor.”

“Okay, Gresham, you’ve got what? Maybe 12 years on me? That’s not the end of the worlds, m’kay?”

“Twelve? Twelve…” he trailed off in disbelief.

“Yes. Honestly, Gresham. You’ve gone on and on about how everyone at Radix is an adult. I really don’t get your hangup with my age.”

“Stella…I’ve been around for much longer than 30 years. Sometimes I feel as if I have been around since the dawn of time.”

“What are you saying?”

“I was born
centuries
ago, not years. When you’ve teasingly called me ancient, you’ve been more right than you knew.”

“No,” I said, certain that such things couldn’t be possible.

“Yes. Stella, some species…some people of Thayer are—if not immortal then very long-lived. You know this world is steeped in the supernatural. Surely you can allow that a world that facilitates traveling by intention is one that also supports immortality.”

“Tracing,” I said numbly. “The kids call it tracing.”

“Whatever the term, I have been doing it for a
very
long time.”

“No. It’s not possible.”

“Now you’re just being obtuse.”

“I’m not,” I whined. “It’s just a lot to take in. I need some time to process.” I thought for a moment. Then, “How long are we talking here? I mean, are we talking Civil War old, or ancient Roman civilizations old?”

He suddenly looked so tired. “I’ve seen ancient civilizations rise and fall, Stella, and new ones rebuilt in their place. I’ve known feasts and famine, crusades and renaissance. I’ve been around long enough…long enough to know better.”

Neither of us said anything for a long time. My mind reeled with the new information, new concept. I really tried to accept that Gresham was as old as Methuselah, but my mind only saw him: his handsome face with the slightest crinkles at the corners of his eyes. The strong body of a young man. What I saw and what I heard were incongruent. I couldn’t make them meld. I decided to shelf the talk of ancient beings for the moment and get back to the real issue at hand. ‘When life gets too real, focus on something else’ was apparently my new motto.

“So, why did you invite me here, Gresham? Why be all sweet and flirty and make me breakfast?”

“I brought you here to talk as two adults and to resolve that despite our mutual attraction, I think it best we not become physical again.”

“Not physical?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“Platonic, then?”

“Exactly right.”

“So, no steamy innuendo about ‘throbbing chakras?’ No references to the ‘clitoris of the soul?’”

“Now just a minute. Those exercises were to help you find your form.”

“Oh, please, Gresham. You talked to me like I was paying you by the minute. It took everything I had not to jump you right then and there. You know you were playing with me. You just admitted you’ve wanted me since we met. Don’t give me that ‘I’m your mentor’ nonsense. I’d think you’ve been around long enough to grow a pair.”

He narrowed his gaze as if he might argue, but didn’t.

“I…I apologize. I did get caught up in the moment.”

“You seem to do that a lot.” I crossed my arms over my chest, letting out a breath I’d held too long.

“That’s just it, I don’t. At my age, I have certainly learned to control myself. And I’ve seen and done it all. Nothing has inspired me to lose my head in centuries. One more reason that we should end this now, before it goes any further.”

Whatever that meant.

“Fine, Gresham. Platonic it is.”

I was irritated. Not only because he was fooling himself—he had flirted with and shown interest in me since day one. But because ignoring the chemistry between us was both unnatural and unrealistic. But the rejection stung, too. I had gone to his home excited about the potential between us. He was
really
promising as a lover. And I liked him. Was he not into me? Was someone so
experienced
disappointed in my performance?

“I
am
sorry. I didn’t mean to lead you on,” Gresham concluded, all business.

Still steaming—and stinging—from his rebuff, I couldn’t leave fast enough.

“Save it, Gresham. I’ve got to get back to The Root. Thanks for breakfast.”

“I…ah…sure.” He seemed uncomfortable, and rightly so.

I opened the front door to leave, but was met with a wall of fire. I screamed and jumped back as Gresham threw me behind him, sending me skidding across the foyer. A ear-splitting screech sounded just outside the large front windows before they, too, exploded in flames. Shards of glass scattered in my direction. I skittered away from the exterior walls as the house was attacked from all sides. The weighty turbulence of dragons’ wings was unmistakable, and my knees buckled in response. Bone-deep, instinctual fear was my natural response to these fearsome creatures, and I knelt on the floor turning one hand over in the other.

“No, Gresham,” I screamed from my position on the rug. He had seized a sword from a display in the sitting room. “Don’t you have a gun?”

“Guns are useless against these things,” he yelled over the deafening attack. “Bullets are impeded by scales.”

“Skin is useless against fiery breath.” I pointed hysterically to his sword-wielding arm.

“Why haven’t my wards kept them at bay?” He cursed to himself as he ran to each window. “It’s like there’s no perimeter at all.”

We watched in stunned silence as the largest of the three dragons dove straight for the house. We backed up together as it approached and ducked when the thing weightily crashed into the roof, causing chunks of plaster to fall from the ceiling.

“Goddammit!” Gresham rarely cursed. This was a bad sign. Very bad. “He’s trying to tear a hole in the roof. My wards have obviously been breached. Stay here, Stella. Do you hear me? Stay here.”

“Stay? But…” I fumbled for words. “Wh-where are you going?”

“I won’t stand here to be slaughtered. They dare attack my home? I’ll rip them apart.”

A bark-colored dragon dove into the stonework and crumbled half of one chimney with its steely talons.

“With that sword? They’re dragons, Gresham. Don’t you have a storm shelter or a basement or something?”

There was no shame in my self-preservation game. All instincts pointed to ‘flight’ in this particular dilemma.

Gresham’s eyes changed, then, and he looked as fearsome as the dragons. His irises were no longer amber, but a gleaming golden yellow that held movement like the burning sun. His pupils had stretched from their usual round to an eerie oblong. There was no longer a white to his eyes, just that burning, entrancing gold.

Gresham ran toward the front door in long, determined strides. I sat stunned as once he breached it, threw down the sword, and detonated into arrowed flight. My breath left me in a rush. I watched in awe as noble, grumpy Rowan Gresham was no more. In his place an obsidian dragon with eyes like the burning sun.

“Jeezuhs,” I whispered. He was magnificent. And deadly.

Two of the three immediately attacked Gresham. Their agility despite their size staggered me. Big jaws snapped in fury while mighty tails lashed at him. Gresham wasn’t on the defensive for long, though. As big, if not bigger, than the large red dragon, Gresham was a sight to behold. He flew straight up and out of the two’s reach, then just as forcefully attacked them from above. He snatched the smaller dragon’s scaly spine like an eagle clasping a fish, and swung it end over end across the sky.

“Yes,” I yelped tin triumph, but ducked inside the house as the bark-colored attacker dove at me again. Racing to another window to watch the battle, I saw that Big Red had seized Gresham by a wing just after he released the smaller one.

“Gresham!” I screamed and ran out into the yard, fear for his life overriding my intellect.

He saw me, saw the impossible situation I’d put myself in as the brown dragon made a circling pattern overhead. Gresham launched the free half of his body toward Big Red’s taloned grasp, rolling the punctured wing into itself and extending his long neck to gnaw at his attacker’s gnarled claw. Big Red let go with an injured screech and Gresham dove toward me, for the smaller brown dragon circling me.

He threw the brown away with his claws, shoving it to the ground. The beast plowed through the fertile earth rolling shrubs and dirt into a mound like a small crater. All too soon it sat up in a daze, but then its face took on a vicious sneer when it realized the other two had Gresham on the run.

I was on my own.

That was all it took.

It’s astounding what strength can be manifested when a girl finds herself out of options. I glanced briefly into the brown dragon’s intelligent eyes. I shook my head with determination. I would
not
die today. I closed my eyes, inhaled deeply, and thought, “
Explode
.”

Free. I was free once again. And so powerful. I released my leathery wings with a whoosh and stretched my powerful neck.

I launched at the brown, roaring with malevolence. God, it felt so
good
to attack. So
right
. I knew I was born for it.

The brown backed away, scraping the sodded ground for purchase. The look in its eye wasn’t fear, exactly, but recognition. It looked pointedly toward its cohorts in the sky, then, its mind seemingly made up, took off toward the east. After a final squawk to the others, the brown dragon faded into the morning sky, as intangible as evaporating dew.

Two left. I resolved to distract the smaller one from Gresham for a fair fight. I bolted into the air and dove at the small black one, intending to grasp the biggest target—its wings. It saw me approach, though, and extended powerful claws toward me, thinking to impale me before I reached it. I threw my big body wide and struck out with my heavy tail. I hit it in the stomach and a hiss of sparks flew from its hinged mouth.

The dragon’s gaze swung to meet mine, not just furious but very obviously
mad
. One flick of intelligence cleared its wild eyes, though, followed by another. Its demeanor changed. I expected an attack, but without warning it, too, turned and fled, leaving only Gresham and Big Red in the violent throes of battle.

I started for the two, intending to help Gresham, but the brown approach again. I prepared for battle once more, excited to finish the fight. Eager for violence. Only the brown didn’t approach me. It stopped just above Big Red, throwing its head back and screeching for attention. Big Red looked up, still fending off Gresham’s skilled attacks, and it was as if the two communicated wordlessly.

Big Red glanced in my direction and disentangled itself from Gresham’s grasp. Together the two remaining attackers vaulted straight up and out of sight, leaving Gresham and I confused. Wary.

After several moments with no sign of them again, I felt Gresham’s stare.

“Let me in,” he whispered faintly. It was his voice, but not exactly. It held more accent. That old-world European influence that I never could quite place. Shocked, I looked up at him. He blinked his big eyes in encouragement.

Let him in? How?

I’d had luck with my chakra, so I tried to relax that, but it wasn’t right. I felt Gresham nudging at my brain and followed that clue. I found it. A gentle pressure inside my head. I worked to accept it and suddenly his speech was as clear as if he spoke to me. Clearer, really, since it was telepathically delivered.

BOOK: Rare Form: Descended of Dragons, Book 1
6.16Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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