Defiant Dragon (12 page)

Wind whipped through the alcove, whistling through the rusted fissures of the worn metal siding. He gripped the bannister and looked over the smooth wood. Waves licked the hull of the ship he currently called home. The battle between him and Synda was becoming more than a nuisance. Anger roiled in the pit of his stomach. He was losing face with the other ancients. Kirill and Synda needed to die sooner rather than later. The spy he had on Fire Island reported that the gargoyle had taken a human woman and child and left days ago. There was no sign of that traitorous blue dragon that claimed to be his brother. The only protection Synda actually had at the moment was her mate and Tucker. Perhaps he was focusing on the wrong thing. Ratchet and his sentries could easily take out the black dragon and a merman that had seen better days.

A bellow rent the air. He pushed off the railing, brushed his palms together, and strolled to the door. The barrier flew open as he reached for the knob.

“What is the problem?” Drago looked his guard up and down.

“That animal is here,” his sentinel sneered.

“Ratchet is a shifter just like you and me.” Drago chuckled.

“
It
is not natural. An abomination of magic, not a creation of the Goddess.”

“Like us, he is a creature that can walk in human form and he is a tad touchy, so if I were you, I wouldn’t let Ratchet hear you talking about him. As fun as it would be to see who would win the fight, right now I need you both.” Drago clamped a hand on his sentries’ shoulder as he passed the scowling man.

He strolled down the corridor toward the grand room, where he handled dragon business. A servant passed him, her eyes flashing with fear. It was rare that an elephant seal was scared of anything. He grabbed her wrist and spun her around.

“Is there a problem, girl?” He searched her face for an answer.

“No, sir.” She wouldn’t meet his gaze.

“Where are you hurrying off to?”

“The monster, he demanded food. I was going to the kitchen.” She pointedly looked down at his hand.

“He can wait. Tell the cook to prepare lunch for one and bring it to the hall.”

“What about…the thing…Ratchet?”

Drago cocked his head. “What about him? Trust me, seal, when I tell you he isn’t the one you should fear,” he snapped his teeth and released her.

She jumped and backed away, turning to hustle down the hall when she was out of his reach.

He snorted. Ratchet must be in rare form to cause so many issues with his people. The damn beast was always upset. No matter, as long as he realized who his boss was, he could act like a shit to everyone else. Drago yanked open the door and stepped in to the sitting area.

Ratchet paced the room. At seven foot plus, he made the boat’s smaller spaces feel claustrophobic. Drago slammed the door shut and met the beast’s gaze when he looked up. “Why is it every time you come to my home, you try and intimidate
my
people?”

“Try?” A slow smile lifted up the corners of Ratchet’s lips. “I scare the shit out of your help, and furthermore, I like it.” He turned to face the Drago and rolled his shoulder.

“I hold your life in my hands and will not hesitate to crush you, or have you conveniently forgotten that?”

The grin was replaced with a frown. “When our link is broken, lizard, I will take pleasure in choking the shit out of you and listening to the
gurgle
of your last breath.”

Drago waved a dismissive hand. “Yes, whatever, we both know only your mate can break my hold and since you were born of magic, I don’t think the Goddess even knows you exist. Given your current appearance and lifestyle, who or what would love you?”

The big man bristled. “You sent word, and I came, what do you want?”

“Assan, the son of Tucker, I want him disposed of.”

“You’re a dragon, eat him. He might make a good appetizer.” Ratchet plopped down on the couch and the sofa frame shrieked, dipping under his weight.

“Why, when I have you to handle my more menial deeds?”

“Not for much longer…and when I’m free, before I kill you, I will break the back of your bitch Nicolette and leave her body at your front door as a warning that I’m coming.” Ratchet’s voice held no emotion.

“Beast, you’ve been threatening me for years and yet here you sit. My witch’s wards are strong, you are the least of my worries. Find a room and make yourself comfortable. Assan will be here tomorrow. When he arrives, I expect you to follow my directive. You know what happens when you don’t follow my orders.” Drago placed a palm on his chest. “I mean my pain is yours. Why allow yourself to suffer when all you have to do is what I tell you and you’ll never feel another ache?”

“I’ve been hearing interesting things from some of the old shifters. Is it true a Dragonrex has been chosen and it ain’t you?” Ratchet cocked a bushy brow.

Drago narrowed his eyes, holding the dark gaze of the animal in front of him. Irritation at the comment skittered through him. He needed to remind the creature of his position. “If you prove too bothersome, I can always have Nicolette find another of your kind and start her process all over again. Perhaps this time we can find one of your offspring. A child may be more accommodating. You are disposable.”

The animal moved with unexpected speed given the bulk of his body. He leaped toward Drago. Long, thick claws erupted from his fingertips. Thick fur, a myriad of browns, covered his hands and forearms. Buttons popped off the front of his dress shirt as he shifted. Fangs lengthened in his mouth, cutting across his bottom lip, curling toward his chin. Drago grinned and embraced his dragon, shifting as Ratchet reached him. The animal wrapped his big hands around Drago’s throat.

He wasn’t able to maintain his hold as Drago’s girth doubled. Ratchet changed tactics and hefted the partially shifted dragon up and tossed Drago across the length of the room. He slammed into the wall and the space shook. Drago stood and shook his head. This was exactly what he needed, a fight to get his blood flowing. He lowered his shoulders and ran at the beast, plowing into his middle and smashing him into the wall. Metal bowed and bolts popped free, pinging through the area. The old barge shuddered.

Ratchet closed his hands around Drago’s snout, flipping him to twist his neck. Drago clawed the air and completed his change. Using his body he pinned Ratchet to the wall as he continued to grow. His talons pierced the ceiling and his tail whipped across the floor. He heaved up and dropped on Ratchet again, pounding on the beast with his back. Heat condensed in his belly. He would singe the hair off the fucker for even thinking he could take on a dragon. Drago snorted and smoke billowed from his nose. A sharp pain bit into his neck and traveled down his side. He snarled, rolling his shoulder and banging the sidewalls of the confined space. With no other choice, he returned to his form and staggered forward. He skimmed his ribs and pulled away bloodied fingers. Drago lifted his gaze and stared at Ratchet.

The bastard wiped at his mouth and spit out a chuck of leathery hide at Drago’s feet. “Understand something, reptile.” His voice held a thread of disgust. “Just because I can’t kill you, doesn’t mean I won’t Fuck. You. Up. The day is coming when I won’t care whether I live or die, and when I reach that point, kiss your ass good-bye. The spell your bitch cast on me will be your curse.” Ratchet turned and deep red had bled his through his shirt at the small of his back.

Laughter bubbled up past Drago’s lips as he pressed his palm against his skin to dam the flow of blood pouring from the bite. “I own you, motherfucker. You can’t kill me. I die, you damn die,” he yelled at Ratchet’s retreating figure.

The animal yanked the door open and peered straight ahead. “Killing you will be worth the peace.” He stalked over the threshold.

Guards poured through the doorway and stumbled to a stop, looking around. Drago spun in a circle, taking in the carnage he’d help create, crushed furniture, deep indentations in the walls and blood splattered in a corner. He waved his men out and strutted to the door, first he would put on a new suit, and then he needed to talk to Nicolette.

* * * *

A long, low table sat where the tub had been earlier. Jax was seated at one end and Batak occupied the other side, with Bali to the left and River to his right. They ate without conversation, occasionally making general comments about the food or the weather. The Dragonlord was a squat man with hair that trailed down his back and a goatee that was equally long around his mouth. His slightly slanted eyes were sunken in a square face with a protruding brow ridge. He was dressed in ceremonial robes of deep purple with gold buttons down one side. The lapel was partially open.

Batak twirled the end of his mustache around a thick index finger. Gold glinted from the Dragonlord’s torso every time he moved. A servant stepped into Jax’s line of vision and placed a steaming bowl in front of them. Jax glanced at the hot water and up at River.

She dipped her fingers in the container and dried them on a small towel at the side of her plate. “The water is to clean your hands in preparation for the next course,” River whispered.

“I know. Can you tell what the hell Batak is wearing around his neck?” Jax angled his head.

She leaned down and looked past Jax’s arm, squinting. “No, but there’s an easy way to find out.” River cleared her throat.

Bali and Batak lifted their heads to look at her. The uncomfortable silence that had formed at the beginning of the meal was filled with River’s lyrical voice. Jax wiped his palms on the napkin and listened closely.

“Dragonlord. I can’t help but notice that beautiful piece of jewelry around your neck. May I inquire as to how you obtained it?” His mate’s soft tones were compelling.

Batak flipped his hair behind his shoulder and unbuttoned his shirt. He tugged the flap to his side and grazed his nails across the metal imbedded in his chest. “It’s a little worse for wear now but this is a
moggeol-i
. The pendant has been in my family for centuries. It is rumored to have been given to my mother by Dragonrex Manx himself,” Batak preened. “It was a token of affection for my
eomeoni
and when she died, it was presented to me as leader of our tribe. When a rebellious faction of our clan tried to overthrow me, I had it melted into my skin so my cousin would be unable to easily snatch it away.”

“How will you pass it down to the next generation if it is attached to you?” Jax scratched his chin.

A small woman entered and placed sweet bread and cut fruit on the table. She bowed and left the room.

“If I am defeated in battle, it won’t matter, and if there is peace, then my successor will have to pry it off my dead body. Either way, I won’t feel it.” Batak smiled, exposing four sharp front teeth sloping down.

“What was it?” River reached for a roll in the middle of the table.

“A pyramid.” Batak pressed his chin close to his chest, looking at it. “If you look closely, you can see the some of the markings. They’re faint, but they are there.” He raised his head and stared at River. “It’s hard to erase true beauty.”

Jax growled. Son of a bitch had the nerve to make a pass at his mate with him sitting there.

“Now that our bellies are full and night has fallen, we should travel to Sumatra. I’ve sentries posted at the field, so we should have no issue leaving unseen.” Bali slid away from the table.

“One moment.” Batak held up his hand. “Before we take this any further,” he turned toward Jax, “which clan claims you?”

“I am Tarasque.” Jax eased back and rose to his feet. He ambled to River’s side and offered her his hand, helping her up when she took it. “Tribal Leader and interim ruler, Drago, is my brother.” He lifted his chin and glanced at the wide eyes of Bali before peering into the calculating gaze of Batak.

“Then there will be no problem meeting my prices.” The Dragonlord twisted toward Bali. “I see no problem with our terms, negotiations can begin.”

“We haven’t seen the relics.” Jax swiveled his head between the two and tightened his hold on River’s fingers.

“Yes, but Sumatran artifacts do not come cheap. I only want to ensure you can afford them. I am not in the business of wasting my valuable time.” Batak walked around the other side of the table, trapping Jax and River between Him and Bali.

“There is a small change in plans though.” Bali idled closer to River.

Two sets of guards strolled through the doorway, cutting off the only exit from the room. The niggle that had been bothering Jax all evening escalated to a throb at the base of his skull. The assholes weren’t going to wait until they were in Sumatra. Shit was about to go down, and it was happening now.

“Remember what we discussed earlier,
polýtimos
?” Jax peered at his mate.

River nodded.

“On my word, get the fuck out of here, baby, then bring this bitch down.” Jax lifted his arm, spun on his heel and connected his fist with Batak’s jaw. “Go now!”

Batak’s head snapped back. River scrambled across the dinner table. She screamed. Jax glanced up and watched his mate kick out at Bali who had her by the ankle. Before he could move to get to her, someone plowed into his back, sending him stumbling forward. He fell to one knee and shoved back, alleviating the weight holding him down. Spinning around, he punched the first body in his way at waist level. His dragon weaved its head back and forth in his mind, yanking at the tethers he’d secured to his beast. He needed her safe before he shifted. Jax rose and head butted the guard that charged him. He swiveled, searching for River. Bali had her hands around his mate’s throat and River was using the heel of her hand to shove the woman’s face up.