Releasing the Dragon, Page 2

  When he first started having the dreams, he’d been determined not to go. He wasn’t looking for a mate—having one would only complicate his life, he told himself. And there was no law written or otherwise that said a Kindred warrior had to go claim a female when he started Dream-Sharing with her. He would just ignore the dreams and eventually they would go away. Right?

  Wrong.

  When they had first started, the dreams had only come to him once in a solar week. But when he decided to ignore them, they started coming more frequently—every night. Eventually it seemed that every sleeping moment he had was filled with visions of the lovely little Earth female with her long red hair and big brown eyes.

  The problem was, she was fucking gorgeous—exactly his type—and Dru couldn’t ignore or deny it. Oh, she was plumper than what human males considered attractive but Dru had never liked stick-thin females. This little goddess had full, curving hips and heavy breasts he ached to cup in his hands. She didn’t look like she’d break the moment he took her in his arms—not that he ever intended to, Dru told himself firmly every time he woke, sweating and aching with desire in the darkness after having another dream of her.

  Besides her curvy figure, she had other endearing characteristics as well. For instance, the pale skin of her face and body was dusted all over with little brown speckles. Dru had seen them before on other Earth girls—but no one he had seen had nearly as many as the girl in his dreams. They fanned out over the bridge of her small, pert nose and covered her face and her skin in an unusual and alluring pattern he couldn’t get enough of looking at. “Freckles” he’d heard some Earth girls calling them on the Mother Ship, but a warrior of his acquaintance who had called a bride with such markings called them “Goddess kisses” which to Dru’s mind, fit much better.

  And yet, for some reason, the girl in his dreams covered her Goddess kisses with some kind of pale, skin-colored paste whenever she left her domicile. Dru thought that was a shame—the kisses on her skin gave her character and made her even lovelier than she already was. And that was saying something because she was already the most beautiful female he’d ever seen.

  Still, he tried not to think of her. Tried to ignore the dreams and the growing compulsion he had to go and claim her as his own.

  I can’t do it, he told himself. It’s not right to involve a female in my life—not when I go so often into danger. Having a bride would change everything—it would change me.

  He never admitted—even to himself—exactly how it would change him. He never allowed himself to think about what often happened to Kindred of his kind who called a bride and allowed themselves to love her completely.

  Deep inside him, his second half—his Drake—stirred uneasily. It was a beast of fire and smoke and protective rage but for now it slept—albeit lightly—within.

  Dru didn’t want it to wake up.

  Calling a bride—taking the girl as his own and claiming her—would certainly do just that. It would awaken the hungry beast inside him. It might even force him to shift to his second form which had happened only once, during his manhood ceremony on Yarren, the Drake Kindred home world.

  Dru could still remember the tearing pain of his body changing, growing… becoming alien and frightening. The feeling of being filled with fire and rage as he stood on the mountaintop and spread his great, black wings for the first—and what he hoped—was the last time.

  He didn’t want to feel that again, despite the power the beast inside him brought with it. It was considered a mark of passion and illogic among his people to allow the beast within to come out more than once in a lifetime. It would be a shame to his family and a shame to himself if he allowed his Drake to come out again or—Goddess forbid—to come out on a regular basis.

  He supposed he was lucky—unlike a Rai’ku Kindred, a Drake Kindred wasn’t forced to consume a sentient being after changing in order to shift back to his humanoid form. And once the initial change was past, the Drake could sleep inside indefinitely…unless it was brought to the surface by some outside influence.

  An influence like the curvy little female in his dreams, Dru thought grimly.

  Allowing himself to shift meant a loss of self-control—the loss of reason—not to mention danger and possibly death to anyone in the immediate vicinity of the beast inside him. He wanted no part of that. As far as he was concerned, the Drake could sleep forever and he would be perfectly happy.

  But dreams of the girl never failed to stir his darker half. When he woke in the night with her lovely face and curvy body still before his mind’s eyes, he felt the Drake rising inside him, spreading its wings and roaring to be set free.

  Mine, the beast inside him insisted. She’s mine—I must claim her! MINE!

  At such times it was all Dru could do to subdue the Drake and ease the urge to change. Usually he had to take his shaft in hand—already rock hard with desire for the sexy little stranger—and bring himself to completion many times before the need to claim her subsided. And even after coming over and over the barb at the base of his shaft ached, longing to thrust into her flesh and tie her to him—longing to make them one.

  It was becoming harder to put off his Drake—and to put off his own need to see her in person. There was an itch inside him—the Claiming Itch, he’d heard some warriors call it—that was compelling him to find her. An itch that had to be scratched.

  Eventually, Dru realized he wasn’t going to be able to ignore it.

  I can’t go right now, he’d told himself sternly, after waking up sweaty and needing with his shaft achingly hard and his Drake stirring strongly inside him. What about my career? My lifestyle isn’t a fit one to bring a female into. The missions I take are too dangerous. And if I claim her, she might wake my Drake completely. I would lose control of myself. I would shame myself and my family—I might kill those around me that the Drake perceived as a threat to her.

  But none of his reasons seemed to matter to the Itch. It forced him onward, against his will—driving him nearly crazy with the need to at least see her in person—to touch her curvy little body—to hear her voice in more than his dreams.

  Finally he had to give in—but not all the way.

  I’ll just go see her, he told himself firmly. I’ll introduce myself and kiss her hand. Then I’ll leave again.

  Maybe that would ease the Claiming Itch and bring some peace to his Drake as well. Maybe then he could stop dreaming of her and get on with his life.

  Maybe. Dru could only hope. Because these dreams of her every night were driving him fucking crazy and he couldn’t stand it anymore!

  And that was how he found himself standing in front of the door to her domicile, wearing his Kindred uniform of black leather trousers, tall black boots, and a heavy, silky black and crimson uniform shirt. Within him, his Drake stirred uneasily—aware that something momentous was about to happen but not awake enough to perceive what that might be.

  And then she opened the door and Dru knew he was lost. Utterly and completely lost, Goddess-damn it.

  What in the Seven Hells was he going to do?

  Three

  Annie couldn’t believe the dark man in her dreams was standing right outside her apartment door with his big boots on her cute little Wipe Your Paws doormat.

  “What…who…?” she gasped, taking an involuntary step back. He had to be almost seven feet tall and his eyes were burning into hers as he glared down at her.

  “I am Drugair of the Drake Kindred,” the man growled, stepping into her apartment as though he owned the place. “But I am not here to claim you.”

  He had a precise way of speaking and an accent she couldn’t quite place, Annie thought distractedly. Was it Russian? German? Something dark and guttural and completely foreign. But his strange accent was the least of her worries now.

  “Why are you here, then?” she demanded, recovering some of her poise. “I don’t even know you.”

  “So you are a liar as well as a temptress,” he snarled.
“You know perfectly well that isn’t true—we have been Dream-Sharing for the past three solar months at least. Much to my displeasure.”

  There was a time in her life when Annie would have wilted beneath those fierce black eyes or tried to run and hide from the huge stranger who had barged into her home. But that was before, when she’d been a trampled-on teenager. Now she was a strong, independent woman and she didn’t intend to take shit off anyone.

  Also, this Kindred guy was being an asshole.

  “Well, I don’t exactly enjoy dreaming of you, either,” she snapped. “What with your flaming eyes and the way you’re always growling, ‘Mine’ like some kind of a demon caveman.” She dropped her voice to imitate the deep, snarling tone she’d heard in her dreams.

  “What did you call me?” the huge Kindred demanded, clearly offended. His eyebrows drew low over his black eyes. “I did not have to come here, you know. I only wanted to meet you in person once to try and stop the dreams.”

  His accent seemed to get deeper when he was angry—he pronounced ‘wanted’ like “vanted” and ‘what’ sounded like “Vhat?” But again it wasn’t his accent that concerned her—this time it was his manners. Or lack thereof, Annie thought with a surge or irritation.

  “Well, mission accomplished, big guy,” she snapped. “Here I am and here you are—we’re meeting in person. And if I never have any more freaky dreams of you, it’ll be worth it. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a reunion to go to.”

  The black beaded handbag she’d gotten to wear with her dress was on the side table where she left her keys and important belongings when she came in at night. Grabbing it and scooping her keys out of the painted china bowl where she kept them, Annie motioned at the door.

  “After you, Drugair of the Drake Kindred.” God, it sounded like a name she would invent for a RPG game character. She could see it now—“Drugair is a classic chaotic neutral with the power to fascinate. This huge alien warrior can be a real asshole if given half a chance. Avoid if possible.”

  Which was exactly what she intended to do.

  When Drugair didn’t budge, she pointed at the door and frowned up at him.

  “Come on, big guy—it’s time to go.”

  It occurred to her that at any other time she would be completely freaking out that the man she’d been dreaming of for three months had turned out to be real. But the truth was, she had gotten herself so nerved up for the reunion that she was determined nothing would spoil it—not even a surreal real-life plot twist that seemed like it was straight out of a sci-fi novel.

  And anyway, she knew about the Kindred—hell, everybody did. She was even registered for the Kindred Bride Draft—not that she ever expected her number to come up. But at the moment, she was only interested in one thing—getting to her fifteen-year reunion and making her personal fantasy of finding Christian Wentworth on the dance floor come true. And nowhere in that fantasy was a seven-foot-tall pissed-off alien warrior.

  She tried to shoo him towards the door but the giant Kindred refused to shoo. He just stood there, his arms crossed over his ridiculously broad and muscular chest and glared down at her.

  “I am not going anywhere until we have made physical contact.”

  “What?” Now she was beginning to be a little afraid. She’d never heard of a Kindred hurting a human girl before—in fact, they were supposed to be very protective of women. But this one seemed like he might be the exception to the rule and though she’d taken a self-defense class some time ago, he was way too big to fight off by hand.

  Annie reached inside her bag and pulled out a tiny but effective can of pepper spray. She pointed it directly at the Kindred’s face and spoke in a voice that only trembled a little.

  “Now you listen to me—I didn’t ask you to come here and I’m not having any kind of, uh, ‘physical contact’ with you. Just step out of my apartment and leave me alone right now or I’ll pepper spray the hell out of you and call the police.”

  “You are threatening me?” His black eyes widened in apparent surprise and he actually took a step back.

  “Yes, I am but only because you’re threatening me,” Annie said evenly. “I don’t know you and I don’t know how you projected yourself into my dreams for the past three months but that doesn’t matter right now. What matters is that you’re going to leave me alone so I can get where I’m going or you’re going to be sorry. Are we clear on that?”

  Drugair looked like he still couldn’t believe what was happening but he took another step backwards anyway. Good, he was almost out of her apartment.

  “That’s right—just keep moving.” Annie waved the canister of pepper spray at him menacingly. “I’m not looking for any trouble—I just want to get to my reunion.”

  “I think you have misunderstood me,” the big Kindred shook his head. “I did not come here to harm or molest you in any way. I simply wanted to see your face in person and perhaps kiss your hand.”

  Despite her better judgment, Annie felt herself melt—just a little—at his words. But she told herself firmly that she had to be strong and not fall for any of his tricks. One thing she’d been taught in her self-defense class was to always stay as far away from your attacker as possible. Her instructor’s words echoed in her head:

  “I don’t care what kind of weapon you have, don’t ever get up close and grapple with him. Remember, he’s bigger and stronger than you and what he wants is to lay his hands on you and bring you down. Run—shout for help—get away. But don’t let him touch you if you can help it!”

  “You can see me just fine from where you are,” Annie told the big Kindred. “And that’s close enough—no physical contact and no hand kissing. Just leave now and I won’t spray you and call the cops.”

  The big Kindred looked both angry and bewildered. Clearly this wasn’t how he’d imagined their meeting would play out at all.

  “But…we have been Dream-Sharing,” he said, taking another step back as Annie menaced him with the pepper spray.

  “Which is freaky but does not obligate me to let you touch me,” Annie said firmly. “You don’t have any right to my body. So get out.”

  Wow, my old therapist would be really proud of me, she thought, as she took another step forward, forcing the big Kindred to take another step back. I’m taking charge of this situation and refusing to let myself be threatened or abused.

  Then again, this whole scenario felt like a dream. Annie had a strong sense of unreality—as though she was playing in one of her own virtual reality video games. It was easy to be brave when it didn’t feel like there would be any consequences.

  Abruptly Drugair drew himself up to his full height and lifted his chin.

  “Clearly you have mistaken my intentions towards you. As I said before, I didn’t come here to claim you. In fact, I came for the express purpose to keep myself from claiming you. But now I see it was a mistake to come in the first place. Please accept my apologies for alarming you. I won’t bother you again.”

  Then he turned on his heel and left, striding swiftly down the hallway of her apartment complex and disappearing around the corner. After a moment Annie heard the elevator ding and the unmistakable sound of someone stepping on. There was a muffled sound of surprise and then, a moment later, her elderly neighbor, Mrs. Hofstadter, came limping around the corner with her cane, carrying several bags of groceries.

  “Oh hi, Mrs. Hofstadter, let me help you with those.”

  Quickly Annie shoved the pepper spray back into her bag and ran to help her neighbor. She had a soft spot in her heart for the old lady, whose children all lived far away. She reminded Annie of her grandmother.

  “Oh, thank you, dear.” Mrs. Hofstadter accepted her help, allowing Annie to take two of the heaviest bags. “My, did you happen to see that big young fellow with black hair?” she asked Annie, as she fumbled with her keys. “I think he might have been one of those Kindred warriors the news is always going on about.”

  “Really?” Annie asked c
arefully. “Um, what did he do?”

  “Well, nothing really. Just got into the elevator while I was getting out of it,” her neighbor said. “But my Land’a Goshen he was big! I didn’t think he was going to fit in the elevator at first. But in he went, just as fine as you please. Didn’t even nod at me—just stared straight ahead with his face as stiff as a board.” She shook her head. “Never saw anything like it.”

  “Me either,” Annie murmured, but inside her mind was racing. So apparently Drugair the Drake Kindred really had left—or at least he wanted her to think he had. Was it safe for her to leave too, then? If she didn’t go soon she would be late to the reunion and she wanted to get there before some other single former-classmate snapped up Christian. Maybe someone like Michelle Prouty who had always flirted with him shamelessly.

  “Well, don’t you look nice all dressed up like an angel!” Mrs. Hofstadter remarked, apparently noticing Annie’s dress for the first time. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen you all made up like that since your last Internet date. How did that go for you, anyway, honey?”

  “Oh, um…” Annie could feel her cheeks turning red. She preferred not to talk about the last disastrous Love Match date she’d gone on about six months ago. The guy had expressed an interest in on-line gaming when they chatted which had made Annie think they might be compatible. But when he’d found out she was a game designer, he seemed to feel challenged in some way, as though Annie was encroaching onto his personal territory. His pleasant—if somewhat superior banter—had turned nasty and he had left in the middle of the date, leaving her to pay the entire check for their half-eaten dinner. Clearly he hadn’t been interested in a woman who knew more about his favorite games than he did.

  “Well?” Mrs. Hofstadter was looking at her expectantly and Annie realized she’d have to answer.

  “It…didn’t go so great,” she confessed with a sigh. “The guy turned out to be a jerk—story of my life.”