Fire in His Blood - Page 15/75

Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.

I flail my legs, searching for something—anything—to step on. My hands are slippery on the bar, and I won’t be able to hold on for long. A sob rips out of my throat as the building groans and everything seems to shift a little more. “No! Help!”

There’s no help, though. My grip slips, and then I’m flying through the air—

Large scaly claws wrap around my torso half a breath later. I slam into the hard scales of his hand. Paw. Claw. Whatever. It wraps tight around me, and I’m no longer in danger of becoming a pavement pancake.

Now I’m just in an entirely new kind of danger.

I gasp for breath—I’m not sure I’ll have a decent lungful of breath ever again—and tug at the claws wrapped tight around my waist. My legs dangle free, one of my arms trapped against my body. With my free hand, I hammer at his scaly claws as he soars through the air. A squeak of alarm escapes me as the dragon lifts his claws toward his head.

Way to go, Claudia. You pissed him off and now he’ll chew you into pieces.

But all he does is sniff my hair again with that enormous snout. He whuffs his breath against the side of my neck, as if making sure I’m all right, and then flaps his wings harder, gaining air and heading back toward the top of the building.

Right back where we started, except now I’m even more injured, filthy, and being cuddled by a dragon. I could just cry.

The dragon flies right back to the open area at the top of the building where he found me. He lands, cradling me close to his scaly, enormous chest. He folds his wings in carefully against his body, just like a bird, and then sets me down gently on the ground in front of him.

Then he crouches low, waiting. His tail flicks. His gold-on-gold gaze is focused entirely on me.

I don’t dare move. Wide-eyed, I stare up at him, waiting. I’m half-expecting him to wiggle his butt like a cat ready to pounce. The stairwell isn’t too far away, but it won’t do me any good to run away, at least not in that direction. I’d only get stuck. I try to think of other options and come up blank except for one—flinging myself off the side of the building. I glance over at the wide-open skies just past the dragon and suppress a shiver.

Effective, but not quite the result I want. I want to live.

The dragon growls low in his throat, startling me. My gaze goes back to him, and as I watch, he arches his back and transforms. The speed of it is breathtaking. Before I can blink my eyes, he’s human again. At least, mostly human. He’s still got that little frill of horns at his temples and the mottled scale pattern on his golden skin. He gets up from his crouch, beautiful, perfect body uncurling, all six feet and change of him. And he moves to stand right in front of me, gold-on-gold eyes blinking.

He puts a hand out to me. “No.”

 

 

7

 

 

CLAUDIA


No?

No what?

I stare at him in surprise. “What do you mean, no?”

“No,” he says again slowly. He says it with an unusual inflection, as if he’s tasting it and finding it foreign. “No.”

Then he looks at me, waiting.

He’s parroting me. I said no, and he remembered it. Actually, I’ve said ‘no’ to him quite a bit. It shouldn’t be surprising that he picked it up. He probably doesn’t know what it means. On a hunch, I sidestep toward the stairwell again.

“No,” he repeats, and there’s a warning note in there.

All right, maybe he does know what he’s saying. I put a bright ‘who me?’ smile on my face. This is just another captor. Instead of the fat mayor, I get a dragon. All right. I’ll just have to deal with this. “All righty then, we’ll play the ‘no’ game.”

He tilts his head, trying to decipher what I’m saying, and then takes a step forward.

“No,” I say, putting a hand up to stop him.

He stops where he’s at and crouches low, the avid, hungry look in his eyes locked on me.

Erm. He’s really, really naked. I shift my hand a little lower, letting it block his anatomy from my sight. When he sits like that, well, it’s easy to see he’s excited. More than a little excited. Does the man have a constant hard-on around me? Jeez. “So, hey, do you speak English?”

His brows go down, and he concentrates. “Sohay…du…ewww…spek…Ayne-glehs.” His mouth moves over the words slowly, with great exaggeration. I notice again that he’s got a pair of big fangs, like a vampire. Or you know, like his dragon form.

Well, isn’t that comforting. “I’m guessing that’s a no.”

“No,” he repeats.

“Right. No. Thumbs up.” I make the gesture. “We’ve got that part down. So I guess if you don’t speak English, I can’t ask you if you’re going to kill me and eat me before or after you rape me.”

“Rrrrape,” he thrums, testing the word.

Aw, crap. Did he have to pick up on that word? “No rape,” I tell him. “No. Rape bad.”

His eyes narrow, and I realize with an anxious stab that he doesn’t understand me at all. He’s guessed ‘no’ at this point, but ‘rape’ could be ‘pickle’ for all he knows. And the more words I spit at him, the more agitated he’s getting. He gets to his feet again, moving a bit closer in a slow, steady motion, watchful gaze on me. I know if I try to bolt again, he’ll catch me.

I’m stuck here.

Okay. If that’s what I’ve been dealt, then I’ll handle it. He’s not eating me, so that’s a plus. And he freed me from the chains, which is another plus. Maybe he doesn’t want to hurt me, after all. I glance over at the dead goat. It’s not a reassuring sight. And when I drop my hand, I see his giant erection again, reminding me that just because the dragon hasn’t eaten me doesn’t mean that he’s safe.

All right then. Time to make a friend.

I think about how I’m going to approach this. I don’t want to startle him, that’s for sure. And I don’t want him to think I’m too interested. I sneak a peek over at his naked body, just in case I’m imagining things. Maybe it’s a nervous boner. Except no, his erection hasn’t gone down in the slightest. The thick, heavy crown of his cock is beaded with pre-cum.

Definitely not a nervous boner.