Dragon Awakened (13 page)

“Perfect.” The word rumbled next to her ear. “You have excellent posture, shoulders even and up, body straight.”

She swore her Dragon purred in response. Something had changed in the way she moved. Subtle, but definitely different. Since she'd Awakened, she had gained an awareness of her body.

And with sexy-as-sin Cyn around and half naked, another part of her body had awakened, too. Because for an old man, he totally rocked.

Without saying a word, he'd pulled into a music store on the way back and bought her a Red Hot Chili Peppers CD, which was now playing.

Her Dragon sighed.

“Okay, Ruby, pretend I'm an assailant who's come up behind you. If you're not expecting it, you'd have the stick down like this.” He guided the stick so the tip hit the floor, molding her hand over the smooth top of it with his. “The instant my arms go around you, bring the stick up and hit me in the neck. The element of surprise only lasts a second or two, so capitalize on those seconds.” He clamped his arms over her shoulders.

The problem was that it felt so good she didn't want to make him move away.

“Ruby? Attacking you, remember? Don't worry about hurting me. I'm tough.” He was real tough, not her bluff tough, she realized.

She pulled up the stick, stopping it when it touched his neck. Then she twisted out of his grip and brought it to the side of his head, feeling like a baseball batter.

He didn't even flinch or try to stop the movement. “Good job. Do it again.”

They worked for another hour, and she was glad he'd made her fortify herself with eggs and toast when they'd returned to his house. He taught her some general moves, for those times when she couldn't Catalyze and now, when she didn't have the stick. They moved past the Chilis back to the music Cyn had loaded into his music system, and Robert Plant, lead singer of a group called Led Zeppelin, belted out about needing a whole lotta love.

Which she really did not need to hear with Cyn periodically pressing some part of his body against hers.

She faced him, blocking his attempts to grab her. “So is this what you would have been doing if Mon had brought me to you when I was thirteen?”

“Yes. At the dojo though, in a class.”

She knocked his hand back, hearing their flesh collide with a loud
smack
.

Her eyes met his. “And now I get private lessons.”

He merely grunted in response, then lunged forward to grab her. Remembering the move he'd just taught her, she grabbed him back. Which, unfortunately, knocked them both off-balance. He tried to right them, she overcorrected, and down to the wood floor they went, her on the bottom.

He braced himself with his hands to keep from falling on top of her, which left him hovering over her. “It would not be effective to have the demon land on top of you.”

He didn't get up, even though she could see the strain of his arm muscles as he poised over her like he was going to do a push-up. She could feel his heat, and more so, the heat in his gaze as his eyes locked onto hers. He lowered his mouth, so subtly she might have imagined it. Her body strained to meet him halfway. God, her Dragon was going nuts.

He suddenly stood, reaching down to help her to her feet. He'd been about to kiss her. So why hadn't he? She had to get a handle on her disappointment, and the fact that her disappointment meant she wanted it, too.

He released her hand the moment she'd gained her footing. “Now we do some Dragon work. I don't know how much time we're going to have here, or if we'll get back to the dojo. Still need candles?”

Oh, yeah, a challenge. She saw it in the glint of his eyes. “Yes.” She had to stop letting him manipulate her.

He had a lazy sway to his gait as he walked over and lit the candles. She hit the lights, plunging the room into a den of candlelight.

“You're going to have to grow up and get over the candles,” he said as he returned.

“In case you haven't noticed, I am grown up.” She pulled off her shirt and tossed it to the floor, her gaze on him.

He paused, embers flickering in his eyes. “Ruby, don't do that.”

“Do what?” She pushed down her pants and kicked them off.

“Play the seductress. This is not the time nor the place for it.”

She laughed, more of a sputter. “Me, a seductress? You're kidding, right?” Like she could seduce a man like him.

He did not seem to share her amusement. Or her disbelief. “Look at yourself.”

She found her reflection, taking in the cant of her hips and the swell of her breasts because of the way she stood straight and confident. The soft, undulating light played over her skin. “I'm…”

“Beautiful.”

She met his gaze in the mirror, her heart thudding at the way he'd said the word, the way he'd meant it. “I was going to say different. I feel different since you Awakened me.”

“It's the Dragon. They're very sensual creatures, and now that sensuality flows through your veins.”

Yes, it did.

“So that's why I threw myself at you?”

“The only reason.”

“Then why did you kiss me back?”

He shrugged. “Caught up in the moment. Let's get to work.”

She Catalyzed. He shucked his pants and became Dragon, too. She charged him, eager to release some of her pent-up energy. If she battered him a bit, all the better, since he was the source of it. She rammed into his shoulder, bouncing back because he didn't budge.

“Give me what you got, Ruby.”

Sheesh, even in Dragon speak, he could say her name like that. She faced off with him, figuring out her next angle of attack. He lunged beneath her, lifting his head and sending her rolling down his back. She landed off-balance but bounded up quickly.

“Good recover,” he said.

He swung his head around and pinned her against his shoulder. “As Dragon, your throat is your most vulnerable area. There's a kill spot just beneath your chin where the scales are thinner. Our enemies know this. Never let anyone near your neck.”

Ruby knocked him back, freeing herself. She swung her tail at him, and he blocked it. The firelight shone and danced on his scales, making him as gorgeous as Dragon as he was as human.

“Do Dragons have sex?” she asked. “I mean, they seem…”

“Horny?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

He leaned forward, as though to nuzzle her neck, and then thumped her instead. “Watch your neck. Dragons would have sex if we let them. It's one of the reasons you have to be in control before you can even think of finding a mate. You can't let your Dragon go humping another Dragon. They'll kill each other. Not intentionally, but throw claws and fangs into a frenzied mating ritual”—he shook his massive head—“dangerous as hell.”

She felt the shiver shimmy all the way down her body.
No Dragon sex for you.
Because Cyn's Dragon had some razor-sharp talons and killer teeth.

Curiosity got the better of her. “Dragons have mates?”

“Like all beasts, they seek the right mate. If there's genuine affection between two Dragons who partake in lovemaking, the beasts take it as being mated for life. They don't understand the complications that go with human relationships or concepts like irreconcilable differences.”

They moved in a circle around each other, closing in until they were neck to neck, cheek to cheek.

She found herself playfully nipping his neck. “Sorry, that was my Dragon, not me.”

He nuzzled her, an evocative growl coming from his mouth. With what looked like some amount of effort, he pulled back. “Ditto.”

Against her will, she stepped closer to him again. “Our Dragons seem to be hot for each other.”

“Dragons have no sense of right and wrong, only of what they want. Mine doesn't give a damn that you're off-limits. Time to Catalyze before they get the wrong idea.”

Suddenly they were human again, side by side, their bare skin pressed together. Their gazes locked. She came to a stop, her chest so tight she could barely breathe. He, on the other hand, was breathing deeply.

“Except it doesn't go away when the Dragons do,” she whispered.

“No, it doesn't.”

He clamped his hand at the back of her neck and jerked her toward him, covering her mouth in a hungry kiss. She responded, desire exploding inside her. She was no accomplished kisser, but her mouth seemed to know exactly what to do, her tongue dancing and sparring with his the same way they'd just done as Dragons.

She nestled closer against him, threading her fingers into his silky hair. She slid her hands across the width of his back, the heat of his Dragon tingling on her fingertips. Like the night before, she followed the lines of his spine down to the dip of his lower back, over the curve of his ass.

He let out a soft groan, running his hands down her collarbone and squeezing her breasts. She moved into his hand, craving more of his touch. His slightly calloused palms created delicious friction on her skin. She pressed her thighs closer to his, feeling the light sprinkling of coarse hairs against her legs. She clutched at him, pulling him fully against her so that she felt the full length of his erection like a steel rod against her stomach.

Yes, yes, want—no need—to feel you. All of you. On me, in me.

He moved his hands to her ass and pulled her closer yet, as though he'd sensed her desire. His mouth left a wet trail down her neck, making its way slowly down to her nipple, which ached for his touch. She let out a small gasp as his tongue circled and tickled and flicked. And as he moved to lavish the other breast with the same attention, his hand cupped her mound and moved in lazy circles.

Warm satisfaction rolled over her. His fingers parted her folds and stroked the slick skin on either side of her throbbing, swollen clit. He dipped his finger into the well of her entrance and used her own wetness as he slid over and around every inch of her. Little mewling sounds she'd never uttered before came out of her mouth as his finger slid inside while he caressed her nub. And then he covered her mouth with his as she gasped, her orgasm rocking her.

She caught her breath, not easy as he continued kissing and caressing her, and wrapped her fingers around his erection.

“Ruby,” he said on a groan, rubbing his mouth back and forth across hers. He took a shuddering breath and stepped back. “I can't let this happen.” He released her, still shaking his head. “This isn't right.”

She was dizzy at the flip of emotions, trying to gain her balance both physically and mentally. “It felt pretty right to me.” But then she remembered something he'd said earlier. “You said I was off-limits.”

“You are.” He grabbed up her clothes and shoved them at her. “I'm…” It was the first time she'd seen him truly thrown off. “I'm your sworn protector, and you're in a vulnerable place right now.”

She tugged her shirt over her head. “Me, vulnerable? Did you see me kicking that demon's ass?” Oh, no. What if he was just using that as an excuse? “No, don't explain. It was obviously just Dragon lust. You made it clear that I was too young and not your type.” She hoped he would negate that and look at her the way he had when he'd said she was beautiful.

He kept his expression carefully masked, his voice even when he said, “You are too young. Definitely not my type.”

“So you agree that this”—she gestured to indicate the electricity between them—“is only because of our horny Dragons?”

“Yes.”

“Nothing to do with Ruby wanting Cyn. Or…Cyn wanting Ruby?”

“Nothing at all. Once we're done with this, and we're apart from each other, you'll forget all about me.”

Which meant the opposite was true as well. He would forget about her. All righty then.
Get that through your head, Ruby. He doesn't want you.
Even as he was doing everything in his power to keep her safe. “Why did you swear to become my protector? That's some serious business if it means laying your life down for someone.”

The heat in his expression was gone, but his Dragon was flexing its talons and looking at her as though it would eat her. And not in the bad kind of way. Her own Dragon responded, aching to reach out to him.

Stop it.

“You were an orphan like me.”

“You're an orphan?”

“You needed a Dragon to guide you, teach you. Since my organization made you an orphan, I accepted the duty to be that Dragon.” He obviously didn't want to go into his own past, gliding right over it.

She remembered his expression when he'd told her about the massacre. “Your parents died during the Mundanes' ambush, didn't they?”

He hesitated before answering. “Yes.”

“Tell me.”

“I was sleeping on my parents' bedroom floor after having a bad dream. I woke to gunshots, and by the time I got up, the Mundanes were already running down the hall. My mother took her last breath as I gripped her hand. My father could only blink as blood poured from his head. The Mundanes ducked into each of our rooms, splattering the beds with gunshots, and then moved on to the next house. My brother was dead. I would have been, too, if I'd been in my own bed.”

He had kept emotion from his voice, but she saw it in his eyes. “I'm sorry,” she said, knowing better than anyone that no words could ever soothe the past.

He walked to the cabinet to turn off the music. “Get a shower. We're going to see another friend of mine. I'll fill you in on the way.”

P
urcell lit a cigar and settled at the desk in the lab to study the latest solar event alert from the Space Weather Prediction Center. The experts had been warning about the solar maximum for months now, the peak of storm activity that occurred every twelve years. Two smaller eruptions had already passed the Earth with little effect, but the one that had just erupted was supposed to be a three or four out of five on the NOAA Space Weather scale. It would affect the Earth's magnetic field in two days when the coronal mass ejection hit.

That's what he was counting on.

But he had learned in the more than three hundred years of his life not to count on anything. Not on the company of his first two wives, whose lives had been cut short. Not on the fidelity of his third and final wife. He had lost two of his offspring during the earlier, violent years of Miami. By the time his remaining son was born—if he was, indeed, his biological son—Purcell had stopped caring about much. Darren had been simpering and desperate to please, going into physics just to make his father happy. As in everything else in his life, Darren was only average in his efforts.

Darren wasn't naturally inclined to the sciences, but he'd tried. His biggest achievement was introducing Purcell to his brilliant friend. Justin had an amazing idea about creating portable
Deus Vis
so Crescents could leave the Field for extended periods of time. He only needed funding, a facility in which to work, and privacy. Purcell offered him all for a cut of the tremendous profits they would reap. Perhaps Miami would be less crowded and less dangerous if Crescents could leave. Gone were the days when they numbered in the hundreds, when the different classes remained separate rather than interbreeding and muddying the purity of their bloodlines.

Justin's goals centered on offering freedom rather than gaining notoriety or profit. Purcell suspected Darren garnered a sense of importance from being associated with the project.

When Justin's last version disturbed the
Deus Vis,
he took a step back to re-evaluate his process. Fallon had felt the disturbance on the godly plane and saw it as a way to gain their freedom. That he and the other two gods in the notorious Tryah needed Purcell was an even bigger rush of power. Suddenly Purcell was infused with a higher purpose. Not only helping gods but also finding a more permanent way to clear out many of the Crescents. He had used financial incentives, including a yacht, to push Justin to continue. Brom's vision of mass death proved that they were on the right track, but it frightened Justin into destroying all of his research and prototypes.

Purcell got to his feet and wandered through the lab. Graphs, charts, years of work to re-create Justin's research. Once they'd begun disturbing the
Deus Vis
again, Purcell planted a scry orb at Brom's house in case the old Seer got another vision. Good thing, too. It had followed Brom to Moncrief's house, where he elaborated about his vision of doom returning and that Ruby could thwart them. Brom told Moncrief that he must prepare her to save Crescentkind. Purcell knew only one girl named Ruby, and she was supposed to be dead.

The door opened, and Darren stepped inside. “Please tell me that Ruby's been dispensed with.”

Purcell shook his head. “The demons failed.”

“
All
of them?”

“They have not reported back, and driving past the dojo revealed nothing out of the ordinary. I suspect this Cyntag Valeron is the problem. He's protecting her, probably out of duty because he killed her parents.” Purcell huffed in impatience. “He's in the way.”

Darren settled his glasses firmly on the bridge of his nose. “So we kill him, too.”

“Clearly that won't be easy. He is old and fierce, a former Guard Vega. Our best bet is to get the girl alone. I am unable to create another star orb just yet.” He held up his palms, still singed. “The good news is that my sources have ferreted out Valeron's home address.”

He stroked his beard, staring at a chart. “Once we kill her and Valeron, we will have no more obstacles. The parasitic demon will make it difficult for Brom to alert anyone else, especially with only two more days left.”

“Father, since I'm the one who constructed the reactor, I'd like to keep it here so I can continue to work on it.”

“I feel better with it in my possession.”

Darren's laugh was shaky and bitter. “Do you really think I'll snap and destroy everything like your boy wonder did? After all the work I've put into it?”

At least his son had moments of assertiveness. Darren took after his mother, unfortunately. Her whininess and manipulative nature had pushed Purcell beyond his limits one day, and she met the fiery side of an orange orb. His son had married a similar harridan. Freud could no doubt explain why.

The worst part was that this harridan was a Dragon. Darren had gotten drunk and had sex with Magda. Then she'd turned up pregnant, and Darren thought he was doing the right thing by marrying her. Even after Magda lost the baby, Darren hadn't divorced her. He'd gotten caught in the trap of wanting to please her, and fulfilling her wish to have a baby was his biggest goal. Purcell had made sure that never happened, though neither knew of his magick manipulation.

“I trust you. What I don't trust is the ability to get more demons. Once word gets out that the ones I've brought here have been killed, they might not be so happy to oblige. But I have another idea, a creature I haven't implemented in a long time.” His mouth curved in a smile. “A creature I can have some fun with.” He settled in to watch through the scry orb waiting by Cyntag's black car.

When Cyn walked out of his room, a duffel bag thrown over his shoulder, he searched for Ruby. His Dragon sensed hers, drawing him down the short hall like a bloodhound. She was inside his cells now, permeating his blood.

He rapped on the bedroom door. “Ready? We need to get to my friend's.”

“Almost. You can come in.
If
you think it's appropriate.”

Yeah, she was miffed. That was much better than naked and in his arms.

Says you.
His own thoughts this time, taunting him the way they had all through his shower.

He pushed open the door to find her sitting on the bed looking at Brom's book. Not even glancing up at him. She thought he didn't want her. He released a soft sigh as he watched her.
You don't know the half of it, sweetheart.

He'd never lost control with a woman before. Hell, he'd been minutes from hoisting her up, wrapping her legs around his waist, and driving into her. He had experienced lust, sure, but never this uncontrollable urge to claim her, take her…cherish her. Even worse, despite what he'd told her, those urges didn't just come from his Dragon.

She had one leg tucked beneath her, nervously twisting her braid and making a concerted effort not to look his way. “Another page of his notes appeared.”

After being numb for so long, why did this inexperienced woman whom he could not possess have to be the one to awaken
him
?

Yes, he'd felt an awakening, too, when she pressed her mouth against his.

Need.

Yes, she did need him. To train. Protect.

We need her.

Cyn shut out the Dragon's nonsense. “What does it say?” he asked, resisting the urge to lean close enough to see the text.

Her voice was somber. “He's written our names, underlining them like he did with
Justin's work
. It says I…need you.”

Cyn swayed for a second. “Who else is going to teach you the necessary survival skills?” He gestured to a sketch of two stick figures, a swirl around them. “What's that supposed to mean?”

“I think…it's us dancing.” A sense of disbelief tainted her voice. “Yeah, don't see that happening. And here, where the stick figure that's supposed to be you says, ‘You have spirit, Ruby. You're going to need that.' You said it to me, and the Dragon Prince said it to Garnet. Garnet's father did something to cause the evil beings to overrun the castle. Just as they were about to grab her, the Dragon Prince swoops in and takes her to his castle.” She tapped the book. “Mon's main story was based on
this
.”

At least there was nothing here about how her father and mother had died. “What happens in Moncrief's story? What's she going to need spirit for?”

She rubbed her temples. “The prince trains Garnet, Awakens her, and then they fight a monster. It kills her precious bird…like the demon killed the Elemental at the library.” That made her brow crease in a frown.

“You said Garnet kills the prince.”

“Not on purpose. He accidentally ends up in the stream of their Breath. The Dragon spell wears off. Garnet has to fight using magick, because she's really a Deuce. She defeats the monster and saves her kingdom. It used to annoy Mon that I wanted him to bring the prince back.” She snorted. “No wonder.”

“Why did you want him back? You made it sound like he was arrogant and annoying.”

She gave him an assessing look. “In some ways, yes. But he was alluring, protective, and he loved Garnet. And despite everything, she loved him back.”

Those words trickled through his veins. “Moncrief clearly elaborated on Brom's vision. We've not seen a dove. There are no castles. Dragons don't drool or smell. So unfortunately we can't rely on his prejudiced version.”

“Not ‘unfortunately.' The prince dies, after all. Did Mon hate you that much?”

“We had no use for each other. Like many Deuces, he disliked Dragons in general. Given his version, he wished you were a Deuce, though he obviously loved you.” He rubbed his hand over the page of Brom's book. “The real vision is in this.”

Before their eyes, another few words appeared:
Ruby's destiny.
Also double underlined.

Cyn leaned closer. “He must have given this to Moncrief to translate for you, and he did it in the form of fairy tales. He figured if you weren't Awakened to Dragon, he could thwart fate.”

She stared at the words. “My destiny.” She stood, searching his eyes. “What is my destiny?”

“To face a monster, hopefully in a metaphorical way. To slay the person or people who ordered your parents' murder.”

“With you. Because I need you.”

The way she said those last words tightened his chest. He had to force his gaze to their names on the page, linked with the plus sign. “For now.”

Her expression hardened. “Don't worry. I have no intention of clinging to you.”

“I have a prophecy for you, Ruby. You will be the one to walk away from me.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Trust me on this. Remember, when our Dragons are pulling toward each other, you will walk away and never look back.”

Confusion creased her face. “Because I finally get my fill of your arrogance and the way you've shuttered your heart and cloaked your feelings?” She studied him, the hardness in her expression gone. “I've seen the wild flicker in your eyes, Cyn. I know you haven't buried your feelings completely. You don't have to be bored and alone.” She turned away from him, tucking the book into her bag. “Just saying.”

It wasn't his Dragon who ached at those words. He had found the perfect woman, the one who could bring his passion back to life…who had definitely brought his body back to life. And he couldn't have her. Fucking karma. Fate. Destiny, whatever.

He glanced at his watch. “We'd better go. Grayson's a busy man.”

She hefted her bag, following him out. “Does this Grayson work for the Guard, too?”

“He has nothing to do with the government, which suits me just fine.”

“Is he a Dragon or a Deuce?”

He led the way through the house toward the garage entrance. “Neither. He's a Caido.”

“Mon didn't have any Caidos in his stories.”

“He had angels, right?”

“Yeah, but he didn't have a lot to say about them, only that they had a weapon that looked like some kind of light.”

“Legend has it that Luca, the supreme god of Lucifera, sent angels to police the situation after the gods became physical. They became physical, too. I imagine it was hard to resist temptation with gods partaking of carnal pleasures all around them. The angel/human offspring are called Caidos, which is ‘fallen' in Spanish. They tend to keep to themselves for good reason.” As she started to open her mouth to no doubt ask why, he added, “Which I will not divulge.”

“Not even later?”

“Not even then.”

“Do they have wings?”

“Sort of. Like our tattoo that becomes Dragon, their tattoo becomes wings. Not feathers though. More like energy.”

She shook her head, her eyes wide. He enjoyed her reactions. Everything was old to him, but it was new to her, whether beautiful or terrifying. “What you do need to know before you meet Grayson is that he's a very old and powerful Caido, so don't piss him off.”

“Now why would I go and do that?”

He raised his eyebrows. “You have a way about you.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, probably ready to say something acerbic. But she may have remembered some of the things she'd done, because she only said, “I promise I won't hold a gun to his chest.”

“That's a start.” They walked into the garage, and he popped the trunk, then took her bag and set it inside. “Not that you'd survive a second after that. The only reason I didn't wipe you was because I knew who you were.”

“Awfully nice of you.” The sarcasm melted away. “Though now that I know what
you
are, I feel quite lucky.” She meant it.

“Caidos are also sensitive to emotions, so try to keep yours tamped down. The emotional Dragons—Citrines and Carnelians—are particularly troublesome, and you, Ruby, are a Carnelian. And don't get caught up in the Thrall.”