Fire in His Blood - Page 30/75

It feels like a lifetime ago.

Kael lands, and I squirm in his grasp, trying to get free. He gently unhooks his claws and releases me, and the moment I stumble to the ground, the last of my jumpsuit falls apart.

Freaking figures. This day is just a shit cake. I strip off the remnants and kick them aside, heading toward the bathroom. I want to splash my face with water. I can still smell the blood of the other dragon on me, still smell the smoke in my nostrils. I need to get clean.

I need to get away and breathe for a few minutes.

“Clau-dah,” booms an all-too-familiar voice behind me. Someone’s turned human form again and probably wants to flirt.

But I’m still shaking with shock. I don’t turn around. I don’t want to flirt right now. I want to know that I’m safe. I want to curl up in a ball and hide in a small, cement-cased room where nothing can snatch me again.

“Clau-dah?” This time, Kael’s tone is questioning. I feel his steps as he marches up behind me and touches my shoulder, but the hand that brushes my bare skin is gentle. Just as quickly as he touches me, he pulls away again. “Clau-dah…Kael.”

I bite my lip, contemplating my options. How’s he going to act if I ignore him? Not well, I suspect. So I turn back to him, arms crossed, my body locked with tension. “What do you want?” The moment I see him, though, I gasp in shock. Blood flows from a corner of his mouth, and there’s a long gouge down one of his arms that’s dripping blood. All over, his chest is splattered with dried blood, and he looks like he just emerged from a slaughterhouse. “Oh my god! You’re hurt?”

“Clau-dah…Kael.” This time, when he says it, there’s no mistaking the possessiveness in his voice. He gestures at his arm, then makes a clawing motion, mimicking the other dragon pulling me from his grasp. “Clau-dah.” He bares his teeth, showing his long fangs. “Kael.”

Even though we only have two words in our shared vocabulary, I know exactly what he’s saying. The other dragon wounded him when he snatched me from his grip. And Kael had gone after me, because in his eyes, I’m his.

I don’t know how I feel about that. Part of me is irritated that I’m thought of like a possession. And another part of me is thankful as hell that he’d decided that I’m his and thus saved me from the other dragon. I’m a little horrified that I’m happy about that. I’m also a little flattered. Just a teeny, tiny bit, but I squash that feeling right away, aware of the guilt it causes. “Serves you right for kidnapping me,” I tell him, but the words feel rude the moment they come out of my mouth. He didn’t have to save me.

Maybe it’s my tone of voice, but his eyes narrow. He glances at his arm, then back at me. His eyes are still swirling with black, but the gold flashes more often, letting me know he’s close to returning to himself. As my eyes lock with his, he straightens and makes a low purring sound in his throat. I drop my gaze and…yup. Kael’s turned on again. His cock stirs and lengthens, hardening as I watch.

“Does that have to happen every time we talk?” I ask him, strangely breathless.

As I watch, he lifts his arm and licks the wound, but his gaze is still firmly focused on me.

That’s almost…sexy. God, I should not be fascinated by that. “No, Kael,” I tell him, using my firmest voice. Anything to distract me. Er, him. “I realize you’re just as much dragon as you are human, but that’s not how you clean a wound.”

“Kah-leeen,” he mimics, reaching out and brushing his fingertips down my arm. HIs eyes swirl darker, and he moves forward, and his skin brushes up against mine. “Wwwwound.”

As he moves closer, I realize just how big he is. Dappled skin and muscular chest fill my vision, and I put my hand on his wounded arm. I can’t help but notice that both of my hands can’t circle one bicep. Shiver. “Maybe more dragon than human,” I mutter to myself. “Come on. Let’s clean you off, at least. I realize you’re all turned on, but you’re also covered in blood, and I’m hoping not all of it is yours.”

“Bah-luhhd.” He cocks his head, watching my mouth, then tries to brush his thumb—his bloody thumb—over my lips.

I jerk away. “No!”

“No?” His brows draw together, and he gazes at the red smears on his skin.

“Yes, blood,” I repeat, exasperated. My fingers brush over his, and I touch the sticky blood drying on his clawed fingertips. It smears the dark red between the pads of my fingers, and I show him. “Blood. And it’s all over you. So come on.” I take his hand in mine, ignoring how big and familiar, yet alien, he is to me. His hand is large but masculine, the skin warm, but just a little too warm. The fingers strong, and five in number like a man’s hand, but tipped with claws instead of fingernails. He’s human, but not quite.

I’ll just ignore that ‘not quite’ for now. He certainly doesn’t seem to find me lacking, after all. He wants me just as I am—dirty, naked, and unable to speak a lick to each other.

Leading my dragon-man by the hand, I head back to the bathroom I’ve claimed as part of our new digs and peel off another stack of weathered paper towels. I run the water, then pry open one of the soap dispensers to dig out a chunk of dried soap. It’s the only thing I’ve got, so it’ll have to do. I rub it on a wet paper towel and glance over at Kael as I make a lather. “I realize you’re all frisky at the moment, but I’m not going to sit here and try to talk to you while you’re wounded and covered in blood.”

He watches me, curious, as I head toward him with the wet paper towels. His nostrils flare, and he grabs my hand as I reach for him, and he sniffs the soap on the towel, wrinkling his nose.

“It’s for washing.” When he continues to scowl at it, I change the tone of my voice, making it soft and soothing. “I’m going to clean you up. Get rid of the blood.” I wipe my fingers on the towel to demonstrate and then gesture at his face and arm, smiling. “Wouldn’t you like to get clean? Clean off all that blood?”

“Clean off…blood,” he repeats, gaze on my lips. It’s the best sentence he’s made yet, but I can’t shake the suspicion that it’s not because he’s learning. More like he’s trying to impress me.

I’ll take it. “Yup. I prefer clean skin.” Plus I can tell the wounds from the splatter. I decide to start with his arm first, since going for his face might make him wary. I take his hand in mine and use my other to carefully mop at the wound, glancing up occasionally to watch his reaction.