Tears of the Dragon (2 page)

A pair of moons had just crested the
horizon. Even as she glanced up to see what had produced the light
overhead that she’d assumed was a full moon, a man landed in the
sand barely two yards away from her.

He was the next thing to naked. For
several horrifying moments, she thought he was completely naked,
but even as her eyes dropped with a will of their own toward his
genitals, a tiny bit of relief trickled through her.
That
, at least, was covered, not
decently, for she could not consider that pouch that so obviously
was only sufficient to hold his genitalia as decent, but covered in
a way that prevented yet another jolt to her already overloaded
sensibilities. Nevertheless, all that bare flesh was so shocking
that her mind simply ceased to function for several
moments.

Dropping to one knee, he struck his left
breast with his right fist, bowing his head. “Your highness! We
rejoice that you have at last returned to us. I am Damien
Bloodragon, King Caracus’ champion, sent to protect you.”

Chapter Two

Khalia found herself repeating the words
over and over, trying to make sense of what he’d said. By the
fourth repetition, it occurred to her that he’d mistaken her for
someone else. The question was, would it be safer to lie and
pretend she was that person? Or to admit she wasn’t whomever he’d
mistaken her for?

With an effort, she gathered enough moisture
into her mouth to speak. Honesty, she’d found, was always the best
policy. “I’ve never been here before in my life--where ever here
is.”

He lifted his head, studied her a long
moment and finally saluted again. “I beg pardon for my clumsiness,
Princess. I should have said, we rejoice that you have come home at
last.”

Her lips tightened. With an effort, she got
to her feet, trying to cover her own nakedness with the tattered
remains of her clothing. “This can’t be home. I’ve never been here
before in my life!”

There was desperation, and perhaps even just
a tiny hint of hysteria in her voice. It embarrassed her, but,
really, she thought she might be forgiven for a little slip
considering all that she’d experienced since she’d left the
museum.

He stood as she did, revealing something
she’d failed to notice before. He towered over her alarmingly.
Shadows cloaked him like a thin veil, despite the moons’
illumination, but not enough for her peace of mind. The light
glinted off of bulging muscles on his arms, his chest and torso,
and even his legs. It also gleamed off of spiked metal epaulets on
his shoulders, and the pierced metal bands that protected his ribs.
A dark cloak fluttered in the wind behind him, but otherwise he
wore nothing but gauntlets, leggings, the obscene cod piece, and a
head dress that looked like the skull of a dragon, complete with
lethal looking teeth.

Overall, he made her insides shimmy like the
jell-like substance she vaguely recalled falling through when she’d
tried to dive from the pier.

Seemingly of their own accord, her eyes
flicked over the cod piece once more, drawn, perhaps, by movement
there? She wasn’t certain, but the moment her gaze slid over the
cod piece, it grew significantly, alarmingly, larger.

“
It is the home of your ancestors,
Princess. The home world of your mother, her royal highness,
Princess Rheaia.”

She might have been able to compose herself
somewhat if he hadn’t mentioned the mother she’d never known, but
whom she knew most definitely was not a princess. The fact that he
mentioned ‘home world’ … as if she had found herself on a world
other than her own brought entirely different emotions into play,
however.

All things considered, she decided the man
must be dangerously deranged. The thought had no more than
registered in her mind than, without any effort whatsoever, she
shifted, towering over him.

She was pleased with herself for all of two
seconds. He completely stunned her when he shifted as well, once
more towering over her as he had before.

She gaped at the grim smile that curled his
lips.

“
And thus, all doubt is removed. You
cannot be other than the princess, or you would not have the
ability to shift … come. We dare not linger here, in the land of
your enemies. I must take you to Caracaren.”

Retreat suddenly seemed the better part of
valor. Khalia took a step back. “Sir! You are mistaken! My name is
Khalia--Khalia Peterson and I don’t know any Princess Rheaia and
I’m not about to go anywhere with you!” Whirling, she fled. She
hadn’t managed to make much headway up the nearest dune, however,
when he flattened her.

The impact of having him land on top of her
resulted in much the same shock as she’d experienced when she had
executed the grand belly flop on the sand in her first dive. His
body crushed the air from her lungs.

“
Your pardon, princess. But I must
insist!” he growled as he rolled off of her and grasped her around
the waist, lifting her from the ground.

When Khalia finally managed to clear her
vision enough to look up at him, it was immediately apparent that
she hadn’t merely imagined the growth of his male member. The
pupils of his eyes as he gazed down at her were dilated until only
a thin, almost purple halo separated the iris from the white of his
eyes. His skin was flushed, his nostrils flared and quivering with
each ragged breath.

She hardly thought capturing her had
required enough expenditure of energy to account for his physical
distress. She didn’t flatter herself that she was either so
beautiful or alluring that it was merely her wonderful self that
had evoked such a reaction. On the other hand, he was a man--she
supposed--certainly a male anyway, and she was the next thing to
indecent in her tattered clothing. Perhaps her near nakedness and
her attempt to flee had been sufficient in itself to arouse the
hunter in him?

It had been poor judgment on her part to
attempt flight when she had no safe haven to flee to, the sort of
silly, useless effort a brainless female might try, not one like
herself who prided herself on her intelligence and cool head.

Unfortunately, despite her certainty that
she possessed both, she was still a female, and her own body
responded to the desire she sensed in him more swiftly even than
her mind could assess it.

“
You are in season,” he growled
through gritted teeth, his tone almost accusing.

Khalia gaped at him, feeling her cheeks turn
scarlet. “I beg your pardon!” she gasped indignantly when she
finally found her voice. “I’m a woman. Not a … a mare!”

He had lifted his head, however, and she had
the distinct feeling he scarcely registered either her remarks or
her outrage. “If there is another male within miles. … Hell and
damnation!”

As abruptly as he’d grabbed her, he thrust
her behind him. Khalia was so stunned that it wasn’t until she’d
peered around him that she saw the man drop to the sand a few yards
away. She stared at the newest arrival blankly. What sort of insane
place was this anyway that men dropped from the sky like hail?

Glancing up, she saw two dark shapes rapidly
moving in their direction. At first, she thought it was huge birds.
As they drew nearer, however, she saw that it was winged
men--winged male creatures she amended as they hovered briefly just
above. Abruptly, the wings vanished and they, too, dropped to the
sand. “Mercy!”

“
Stay close behind me--but not too
close,” Damien growled.

Before she could demand to know how she was
supposed to follow such a command, assuming she wanted to, a patch
of red, scaly hide popped through the smooth flesh that covered his
back. Rippling and moving like a live thing, it consumed him,
replacing the flesh of his entire body--all that she could see of
it--within moments. Along his spine, sharp, pointed ridges of bone
protruded almost like jagged teeth. From his shoulder blades
emerged dark, leathery extrusions which expanded and lengthened
before they unfurled, looking like nothing so much as the wings of
a giant bat.

She came as close to fainting as she ever
had in her life when he turned his head to give her a warning
glance. The face of manly beauty that had captivated her attention
had vanished. In its place was the head of a demon creature.

She was still rooted to the ground in horror
when he arched his neck and spit a wall of flame at the three
‘challengers’ who faced him. Gripped in the trance-like state of
shock, her gaze followed the leaping, curling wall of flame even
while her brain screamed at her not to look, envisioning scorched
flesh melting from bones as the flames licked it. A jolt went
through her as she saw the other ‘men.’

They weren’t men at all, but rather half man
half beast--much like the man who called himself Damien Bloodragon,
except that Damien was no longer a man at all. All vestiges of man
had vanished from him she realized when he charged forward to
attack the man-beasts.

She wasn’t certain how long she remained
rooted to the same spot, watching the deadly dance of the four men
in horror as they slashed and bit at each other with razor sharp
claws and teeth, belching fire and smoke, but it could not be said
that her brain finally kicked in and began to work once more. Like
a scratched phonograph record, a few words filtered through her
mind and, sluggishly, her mind began to decipher the meanings. In
the end, however, it was more the primal urge of survival that
moved her almost mechanically across the dunes. ‘Tunnel--home’ kept
repeating through her mind over and over, as if the phonograph
needle had stuck in one spot.

It was a desert landscape. There was little
enough to serve as landmarks and the men-beasts had torn up the
sand in their deadly battle--she refused to think of the
implications of Damien Bloodragon’s remark about her being ‘in
season’ only moments before the others had appeared, but escape was
uppermost in her mind as she began to make her way slowly around
the battle in search of the spot where she’d landed when she’d
emerged from the strange tunnel.

She had not traversed half the distance
between the spot where Damien had left her and the spot she decided
must have been her entrance into this bizarre world, when one of
the creatures landed solidly in front of her. The stench of
scorched flesh hit her like a slap in the face, effectively lifting
her from much of the shock that had numbed her. Almost like a
sleepwalker awakening in a place far removed from where they had
laid their head to sleep, she blinked, her mind opening to a blast
of perceptions at once.

Blood seeped from dozens of wounds on his
body--the body of some creature not humanoid, but rather reptilian.
Scales covered parts of his body, like armor, but so too, did more
human-like flesh, though much of that was burned. His head was
grotesquely deformed, not quite human, and not quite reptilian, but
somewhere between the two.

As he took a step toward her and Khalia’s
whole body tensed for flight, she was gripped suddenly by a clawed
hand that encircled her entire waist. Her head whipped
instinctively toward the newest threat.

The dragon who held her leaned toward her
until they were almost nose to nose. “I told you to stay back,” he
muttered in a rumbling, growling hiss.

Before Khalia could do more than gape at
him, he set her behind him and gave her a push to urge her out of
the way as he met the beast that had threatened her. In all
fairness, she supposed he believed it a ‘gentle’ push. The fact of
the matter was, however, that he was far stronger than a human. She
flew backward several feet before she hit the ground and rolled
down a dune. Still stunned, she rolled to her knees within moments
of coming to a halt and began scrambling toward her goal once more,
more desperately than before.

As mind boggling as the entire incident was,
as difficult as it was to register all that had been happening,
she’d still noted the two bodies lying in the sand, dying or dead
already. Damien and the remaining man beast were locked in battle
now. One would win. She was fairly certain she wanted nothing to do
with whoever won and she was running out of time and options.

Closing her mind to the growls, roars and
meaty thuds as they pounded at each other, she searched frantically
along the dune for the tunnel she had never actually seen. She had
felt it though and she reasoned that she should be able to feel it
again if she found it.

She came up empty. Glancing around a little
desperately to get her bearings, she noticed two things almost
simultaneously. The creature that Damien had become had vanquished
his foe … and she was standing, as nearly as she could tell, where
she’d landed when she’d found herself in the desert. As the great
beast rose and looked around for her, she stumbled to her feet,
gathered herself and, clutching the amulet as she had before, she
dove.

She felt certain she plowed up three feet of
sand when she touched down like an airplane coming in for a
landing--minus landing gear. The air being pounded from her lungs
on impact was all that kept the cloud of dust she dug up from
saturating her throat and lungs. Even so, she was coughing when an
arm snaked around her waist and jerked her to her feet.

“
You cannot return to the other
world.”

“
I wasn’t trying to,” Khalia lied when
she managed to catch her breath, batting the sand from her eyes
with her lashes and finally peering up at him.

He was--he looked--human once more, but she
knew better now and she didn’t feel any less threatened.

One dark brow arched skeptically, but he
said nothing for several moments, lifting his head to scan the
skies above them. “I should have realized at once that you were in
season and the danger far worse than I’d anticipated.”