Dragon Awakened (11 page)

He reached for her, uttering a strangled sound that might have been a groan or a word. Her Dragon responded to the threat, vibrating with the need to Catalyze.

Not here.

She jerked away before Brom could touch her.

“Go, go,” Glesenda said, shoving her past the man.

Ruby glanced back as they ran down the sidewalk, dodging people who had no idea what they were looking at, other than a homeless man with mental issues. Brom watched her, his expression stark.

Glesenda unlocked an exterior door and tugged Ruby into a tiny foyer with an elevator and a wall of mailboxes. Ruby nearly tripped on the stairs, her knees so weak she could barely lift her feet high enough to clear the treads. A short run down the hall, a second to unlock a door, and Ruby was ushered into a neat, small apartment.

“Sit.” Glesenda shoved her down onto a chair and went to the kitchen. She returned a moment later with a damp washcloth, which she used to wipe the blood from Ruby's nose. Ruby gasped at the pain that was settling in now that her shock was wearing off.

The door burst open, and Cyn rushed in, his gaze going right to her. “I've got her. Get back to the dojo before the class gets out. Clean up the blood all over the floor.”

Glesenda nodded, releasing the cloth to Ruby before dashing out. Cyn closed the door behind her.

Her blood. But the pain and the thought of her blood on the floor wasn't as horrifying as what she'd seen. She clutched Cyn's arm. “Brom! Did you see him?”

His eyebrows furrowed. “No. Where?”

“Right out there on the sidewalk. He tried to grab me! He's behind this. That's why Mon warned me about him.”

Cyn knelt down in front of her, pulling the washcloth away from her nose. He pressed his fingers around her nose as he examined her and then gently pressed the cloth back as more blood kept pouring down. “Are you sure it was Brom?”

“Of course I am. Well, pretty sure. I haven't seen him in fifteen years.”

“That's my point. But considering Moncrief warned you about going to him, maybe he's back in Miami. Did he say anything?”

“No, only made some kind of grunting sound.” She shivered. “And he was part demon.”

That snapped his attention to her eyes. “Part demon? Describe.” When she did, he said, “A parasitic demon. Ruby, I need you to Catalyze.”

“Here? Now? But—”

“Your nose is torn in half, the cartilage crushed.” He stilled the hand that automatically went to verify it. “Don't. And you're losing a lot of blood. Didn't you hear yourself slur just now? As Dragon, you'll heal faster.”

It was bad. She felt the throbbing pain of it, but Cyn's words caved her in. “I want to see—”

He wrapped his fingers around hers and tugged her to her feet. “Come to the bedroom.”

Had she not been bleeding all over, she might have wondered at the alternative meaning of those words. And just to illustrate how dizzy she actually was, some part of her got excited by that prospect.

He helped her settle onto the three beds all pushed together in the center of the room. “Do I want to know what this room is used for?” she murmured.

“For healing. Like now.” He turned around and waited.

Oh, yeah. Get naked.
She pulled off her shirt, the tears and blood splattered all over it turning her stomach.
Let's not get sick now. This is bad enough.
She summoned the Dragon, feeling the surge of power, the need to
do
something.

Cyn, still human, pressed her down. “Lie still and heal.”

“You like being bossy, don't you?”

His mouth quirked. “I like being obeyed. There's a difference.”

She snorted, a puff of smoke coming from her mouth. He sat on the edge of the bed, his shirt unbuttoned and bloody. Also her blood. He examined her body, his fingers sliding against her scales. As hard as they were, she could feel his touch as though it were on her skin.

“What's a parasitic demon?” she asked, needing something else but the pain and his touch, wildly different sensations, to focus on. “Is it something Brom summoned?”

“Doubtful. From your description, it sounds like he was trying to tell you something. That demon was sent to make sure he couldn't. It insinuates itself into the throat of the victim, preventing him from speaking. Like a parasite, it's damned hard to get rid of.”

A cold wave swept over her, and she curled up and started to shiver. A dripping sound made her look down and see her own blood splattering the sheets.

Cyn stripped out of his shirt and then shucked down his pants, and if she weren't feeling so very light-headed, she'd have thought…what? That he was being presumptuous? More arrogant than she'd even thought, thinking he could take advantage of her now? Or that he was so damned beautiful, she could barely put together any other thoughts.

Yeah, that one.

He Catalyzed, the mattress sinking under his weight as he climbed onto the bed with her. “You need a boost. You're still losing a lot of blood. Dragons can channel their energy to help heal another Dragon.” He hovered over her, his mouth next to hers.

She moved closer to him, seeking his warmth. Only that. Not the raw energy of his Dragon, his sensuality as it filled her, coiled through her very being. Her Dragon—yes,
her
Dragon now—drew toward him. She could no longer fight it, closing her eyes and drifting into chaotic dreams about demons and Dragons.

The dreams went on for what felt like hours. No more demons, only two Dragons sparring and then nuzzling each other. In the way that dreams morphed without logic, she was human again, she and Cyn standing naked, still rubbing against each other. Her hands were on him, sliding across his skin. It was so real that she could even feel the slight bristle of the hairs on his thighs and then the firm skin of his ass.

Her eyes snapped open. And there it was, her hand trailing over the curve of his bare ass to the dip of his lower back. And like in her dream, they were human again, still on the bed. He lay facedown, eyes closed and head turned toward her. She was on her side facing him, her leg bent so that her knee pressed against his thigh. They were lying that close, like lovers, with his hand draped over her waist.

Her heartbeat bounced, and she swallowed hard. Was the jolt she felt because they were naked in bed together, man and woman? Dragon and Dragon? Her body felt alive in a way she'd never experienced before. Her Dragon shifted on her skin, as though it were trying to reach out to him.

A soft smile played on his lips. Oh, man, cold busted. She pulled her hand back, ready to come up with some plausible reason for why she was stroking him. Except he wasn't opening his eyes. And wouldn't you do that if you woke to someone touching you?

Which meant he was still asleep, having a nice dream of his own if that smile were any indication. She let herself sink back into that hazy state, easy enough when he was slowly brushing his fingers back and forth on her skin.

Mine,
her Dragon purred as Ruby soaked in the sight of him. Hunger rumbled through her the way it had during her Awakening. Hungry for Cyn. The memory of attacking him when she'd Awakened didn't seem so shameful now. No, more like arousing. He had definitely been aroused, and she wondered if he was now.

She kept stroking his back, soaking in the sight of him. The heat tingling beneath her fingertips traveled to the vicinity of her chest…and lower. His olive-toned skin contrasted with the white of the sheets. He was so friggin' strong and gorgeous that she could hardly blame herself for wanting him. For touching him when he was asleep. She wasn't even a lustful person, too self-protective to let herself ache for something she couldn't have. Definitely not the kind to be touching a guy in the throes of sleep.

What she should be doing is getting off the bed and putting on her clothes. That's what a sane, logical Ruby would do. Except his hand moved up over her ribs, and his thumb grazed her nipple, which nearly made her gasp. She swallowed the sound because she did not want the moment to shatter. He let out a soft murmur, tracing circles that curled her toes.

His hand moved to cover her breast, squeezing softly as his thumb continued stroking her nipple. Which, it seemed, had a direct line to the place between her legs that now throbbed. Oh, boy. She was getting in deeper and deeper, and when he woke—

He slid his hand to her back and pulled her right up against his body, tilting himself up so that she was snuggled between him and the bed. Oh, yeah, he was definitely aroused. He nuzzled her neck and inhaled softly. “Ruby,” he said in a thick voice.

Now
the way he said her name fit the situation. He was dreaming of her, of touching her and holding her like this. This was definitely a dream, even if she wasn't exactly asleep. But she was lost in the fantasy of it, him wanting her. His whole body was wrapped around her, powerful and yet gentle.

When she pressed against his erection, his eyes opened. She saw the moment he realized this was reality, as he took in their intimate position. He disentangled and got to his feet, scrubbing his hand through his hair. “Sorry. Dreaming.”

Oddly, she didn't feel embarrassed at her participation or desperate to pull the sheets over her body. She gave him a tremulous smile, unable to keep her gaze from flicking to his pelvis. “A very interesting dream obviously.”

He stretched, flattening one hand over his erection. “Clearly. Christ, I haven't had a dream like that in ages.”

“You said my name.”

A small tremor shook him, though his expression remained passive. “You must have misheard me.” He pulled a pair of pants from a drawer in the dresser and slid into them.

No, she was quite sure he had murmured her name, but she wasn't going to press the issue. He did not want to admit that at least some part of him wanted her, and he was probably right not to. Getting sexually involved would complicate their relationship. She definitely didn't need a complication like Cyn.

She pulled the sheet around herself. “How long have we been asleep? It's dark out.” Only the light on the nightstand illuminated the room. She sought out a clock and gasped. “Hours.”

“It's been a busy day. I haven't had two altercations in one day in decades.” He rolled his shoulders, his muscles flexing with the movement.

She reached up to her nose, gingerly touching it. “Still tender, but it feels like it's in one piece again. Even the blood's gone.”

“I cleaned you up after you fell asleep.” The image of him tenderly cleaning her while she slept stole away any response she might have. He looked at her over his shoulder. “You managed your Dragon well in there. But don't get cocky. This time you got your face split. Next time could be worse.” He balled up his bloody shirt and tossed it into a small garbage can. “Speaking of things splitting, I keep extra clothes in the car, at the dojo, and here, in case I don't have time to disrobe.” He nodded to her bloodied pile of clothes. “Or if you get injured.”

He opened a couple of other drawers and extracted a shirt and pants. “You're roughly Glesenda's size. When she came up and checked on you, she said you were welcome to use her clothes.”

Apparently Ruby was as deep a sleeper as Cyn could be. She caught the clothing he tossed to her. “What do we do next?”

“We go to Brom's and find out what the hell is going on with him.”

C
yn drove to Miami Beach, where Brom had lived all those years ago when he'd brought Ruby to him. He hoped that, like many Crescents, Brom had stayed in one place. He glanced over at Ruby in the passenger seat of his car, running her fingers along the dash.

“Beautiful car. What year is it?”

His Dragon pulled against his skin toward her.
Want.

He rubbed his shoulder.
Submit. Not yours.
“Fifty-seven. Saw it in the showroom and couldn't resist.” He'd felt passion then, at least he thought he did. One decade ran into another, the fire for life ebbing with them.

“Did you buy it new?” She rubbed the bridge of her nose. “God, what a question. But you did, didn't you?”

“Back when they made real cars. When Miami was much smaller, a tourist and retirement destination. When life was interesting.”

Waking up to find her in his arms had been mind-blowing. The fact that she'd been a willing captive was even more interesting because he was pretty sure she hadn't woke the moment he had. In his dream, she was stroking his back. That's how it had started, but he was a bit muddled on what was real and what was not. Did she normally have a man in bed with her to stroke? He doubted it, or she would have mentioned him by now. He thought of the young Dragon at the Yard who desired her. Ire prickled through him, which was ridiculous because he had no use for those kinds of feelings. Especially where Ruby was concerned.

Ruby who was not a girl. The red shirt molded her chest, and hell, he'd seen enough of her to know her curves were all woman. Had, in fact, felt those curves, or at least he had a vivid dream memory of squeezing one of those delectable breasts, feeling the peak stiffen. His fingers flexed at the thought.

Had she even noticed that she moved differently now that her Dragon was awake? That her hips swayed and confidence injected her with sensuality?
He
shouldn't be noticing.

“Why isn't life interesting anymore?” she asked.

He trained his gaze on the road ahead, always a good idea when driving in Miami. “When you've lived as long as I have, there isn't anything else to do. I've fought, killed, nearly been killed. I've lost friends, lost the freedom to fly, to be Dragon. You get to a point where you don't care about anything.”

“Even staying alive?”

He shrugged. “As long as I don't die because some damned demon or Dragon got the best of me.” The upside to not caring was that he didn't have to fear losing anything. Or anyone. The downside? Not caring about anything. Or anyone.

“Dragons can't fly? We have wings.”

“It's against the law now. In the 1700s, when I was born, Miami was largely unpopulated by Mundanes. It wasn't until the 1870s that developers came in hordes. During the population booms, we only flew in the dark, soaring through the night skies with the glitter of stars and moonlight on our scales. With the development of satellites and radar, airplanes and cameras, we can't take the chance anymore. Can you imagine those videos up on YouTube?”

Younger generations didn't know the singular experience of soaring through the night sky, the wind tugging at their wings. A shame. Then again, it was probably worse to know a pleasure one could no longer experience.

Yes, much worse.

His gaze went to her mouth, and he remembered how it had felt on his. Another pleasure he could not have again.

She faced him, her head tilted as she studied him. “You care about flying. I heard something in your voice. Emotion, nostalgia, longing.”

“Your imagination.”

“Yeah, right. So what if Crescents did come out of the closet, so to speak? Rule Number One seems pretty severe to me. And very restrictive.”

“Before Miami was populated, the Crescents didn't hide their powers. A group of settlers pretended to be our friends, but one night they ambushed Crescents in their own homes. They killed over a hundred of us before they were stopped.”

“That's terrible.”

He only nodded, not letting himself go back to that dark, moonless night. “The Concilium has discussed it over the years, but ultimately the Rule has remained. People are afraid of what they don't understand. Especially when it's dangerous.”

“I guess they'd get pretty freaked out to learn that there are Dragons among us. I sure did.”

How far she'd come. “That call I took earlier was from my former boss. The man who ordered your family's murder just contacted him, suspicious that the assassin did not complete the assignment. Somehow Mr. Smith”—his expression told her it was the anonymous kind of Smith—“has figured out that you're Justin's daughter, alive and well. Which confirms for me that he's the one who sent that star orb. His target was Moncrief, but he could see you through the orb. The question is, why did he go after Moncrief to begin with?”

“Mon's phone showed a call from Brom a short time before he called me to come over. And he did warn me that seeing Brom was dangerous.”

“So maybe Mr. Smith was spying on Brom and heard whatever it is that's brought him back to Miami. He couldn't kill Brom so he sent a parasitic demon instead. He does kill Moncrief because he knows too much. And that could be why you're a target, too.” The thought of them hunting her tightened his chest. “But why is he trying so hard? It's not like you've gone to the Guard or Concilium to report anything.”

She gripped the door handle. “If I get my hands—or talons—on him first, I'll kill him.”

“Remember what I said about letting emotion drive you. I've seen revenge backfire when fury gets the best of someone.”

As they drove through Brom's old neighborhood, Ruby did a double take at a man walking his dog on the sidewalk. “That man was a Crescent. I saw that mist swirling in his eyes.”

“They tend to congregate in the same areas, like the Cubans, Haitians, and any peoples of a different culture do. For us, it lessens the chance of accidentally exposing our magick to a Mundane. And minimizes people wondering why you don't age.”

“Why did your former boss call
you
? Why not call the assassin?”

“He figured I might know where he is.”

“What is he like? A vicious killer. Cold. A Dragon, right?”

“Yes to all the above.” He slowed down in front of a gated entrance similar to his. “Crescents also value privacy. Many of us bought our properties before the big boom. We've had a long time to cultivate hedges and other privacy measures.”

“I vaguely remember coming here. Mon was usually here, too.”

Cyn drove past the closed gate and pulled in to a public beach access. “We'll come in from the back. Just in case.” He reached beneath the seat and pulled out an ornate wooden stick that was about a hundred years old.

“What's that?” she asked as she got out.

“Walking stick.”

It didn't have a hooked handle like a cane, only a rounded knob at the top that was a perfect fit for his hand.

She came around and met him at the front of the car. “I saw you teaching cane fighting. I've never heard of that.”

He flipped the stick and pressed it across her collarbone. “I want to teach you some of the basics. It's a great weapon, one you can take everywhere.”

She plucked the stick from his grip, hefting it in her hands. “Why would I want to use this when I can become a snarling beast with fangs?”

“Because you can't do that just anyplace. Even in the dark there's a chance of being spotted.”

They walked toward the beach, and she ran her fingers down the length of the stick. She might as well have been stroking him again because he could
feel
her fingers. But it wasn't his back that he wanted her to touch.

Maybe she was thinking the same thing because she abruptly handed it back to him. “We're not ugly. You were right; we're magnificent. If I don't say so myself.”

He smiled though she couldn't see it. “Indeed. There's a rocky history between Deuces and Dragons. The fighting goes back to the gods, who argued about who was the first to hold magick and whose magick was better. They see us as drooling, stinky beasts, and we see them as pompous douche bags.” He didn't pardon his French.

“Is that why Mon hated you?”

“Part of it.” He found it almost impossible to deceive her. What the hell was wrong with him?

Moonlight shimmered across the water, calling him to fly. He'd fallen a step behind her so he could keep an eye on anything that might sneak up on them. Their feet made
shush-shush
sounds as they trudged through the thick sand. Ruby had braided her hair though he liked it better loose. The braid probably represented her need for control and order. And her hair
was
pretty wild. He could easily imagine his fingers tangled in it as he tugged her closer. He remembered burying his face in it, smelling the apple scent of her shampoo. He shifted his gaze seaward again because looking at Ruby in the moonlight called to him even harder than the prospect of flying did.

Not her. Anyone but her.
Because he would make good on that promise and introduce her to the man who killed her parents.

She followed his gaze to the waves rolling in only a few feet away. “You were a pirate, weren't you?”

Her question surprised him. “Why do you ask that?”

She stopped and faced him, and the moonlight kissed her cheeks, casting her eyes in shadow. “The pirate memorabilia you have all over your dojo. If you're that old—”

“I'm not old enough to have been a pirate. They were in the area in the sixteen hundreds to the early seventeen hundreds, right around the time I was born. But my Spanish ancestors were. I've tracked down some of the booty they availed themselves of.”

“A pirate heritage. Figures.”

“Why do you say that?” He forced himself to continue walking, digging the stick into the sand.

“It fits you, that's all.” She fell into step beside him. “Dark, dangerous.”

Murderer.

A few minutes later, Cyn pointed to one of the homes. “This is his place.” It was hard to miss the stained glass windows, even in the dark. “Quiet. Whoever put the parasite on him could be here waiting. Once we're in the privacy of the yard or the house, you can Catalyze if necessary.”

She followed him up a trail toward the sixties-era house, with its slanted roof. Moonlight spilled onto the concrete deck but left shadows behind the many plants. A dim light was on inside the house, and music floated through the air. His nostrils flared as he sensed the area. He picked up nothing human, Crescent, or magick. He broke one of the rear windows and pulled open the door.

“It's clear.”

She grimaced. “Smells musty. Did he really go crazy? He looked crazy.” Revulsion reverberated in her voice.

“After your parents died, he went crazy with grief. With impotency.” He flicked on a light switch.

“He had ED? Do I really need to know this?”

He laughed despite himself. “I forget that word is now used for sexual issues. It's damned irritating when society changes what a word means. Gay. Bitch. Ass. Somehow they gained different meanings.” He opened the fridge, finding no stores of food. “Imagine having the power to see the future and then not being able to save those who mean the most to you.”

“Leo said something about him saving a bunch of people.”

Cyn nodded. “His failure to save Justin and your mom pushed him over the edge.”

“And sent him to a mental hospital. I never heard from him, not even on Christmas or my birthday.”

And that hurt. He could hear it in her voice. “But now you know that he was actually trying to protect you.”

Her pained expression softened. “Yeah, I guess you're right.”

He moved through Brom's house, small by beachfront standards. Most homes of this era had been razed and replaced by ostentatious monstrosities. Some of the old Crescents relished the past and kept them as they were.

“What the heck?” Ruby said behind him, as she must have also seen the claw-foot tub in the middle of the formal living room. It was filled with water and a large glass prism.

“Brom had this set up when I brought you to him all those years ago. When he saw the vision, and your father didn't want to believe it, Brom insisted they consult a guy Justin befriended at college. Jay had figured out a way to see the
Deus Vis
. Normally it looks like ribbons shifting like kelp in a gentle ocean current. A solar storm will make it fluctuate, so it's less stable. But Brom said when he checked it, the ribbons were vibrating so hard they were almost breaking apart. He called it fracturing.”

Cyn picked up the long black light on the floor and flicked the switch. He held the light over the surface, bringing ribbons inside the water to life. Disintegrating ribbons. “This is why Brom came back. He must have had another vision about the
Deus Vis
fracturing, returned to Miami, and put this together to confirm it.”

Ruby stared at the ribbons. “So whatever my father was doing all those years ago is happening again.”

“Looks like it. Mr. Smith wanted to make sure Brom couldn't stop him this time.”

She met his gaze across the tub. “This is what keeps us alive, right? So if these ribbons fracture, a lot of people could die.”

He snapped the light off. “Will die.”

Suddenly this was bigger than Ruby, demons, and Moncrief's death. They remained there for several seconds as that sank in.

Finally she blinked and looked down, then reached for a journal that was lying next to a pen. She flipped through the pages. “It's blank, like Mon's book. Does this mean he's dead?”

“Moncrief's book was created with illusion. It looks like Brom was writing in this.” Cyn searched the pages with his hands. “I feel magick. He's hidden whatever he wrote. Did Brom try to touch you?”