Dragon Heat 1 - Dead Sexy Dragon (11 page)

manageable speed. She checked her rearview mirror and

the road ahead before whipping a U-turn. Her foot

depressed the accelerator and she raced to meet highway

speed again. She had to get to Stig.

Would he take her back? Her heart fell at the thought he

might not want her anymore. She’d betrayed his trust and

love. He’d told her his darkest secret. He’d been willing

to go against the Brotherhood to have her, his human lover,

and she’d stomped on his heart because she’d sprouted a

few scales.

Cora wiped her wet cheeks and sniffed loudly. If Stig

turned her away, she’d die. Deep down inside, she knew

without a doubt their bond was special. When she’d

touched him, when she’d turned him into something

awesome and exceptional, they’d created a unique bond.

Cora could only speculate as to the depths of the mating

bond between dragons. She sensed Stig didn’t truly

understand it either but instinct told her it was powerful.

The sight of headlights in the rearview mirror startled

her. This wasn’t a busy road, so the beams took her by

surprise. After the initial sighting, she didn’t pay them

much attention until they seemed to be getting closer and

closer, faster and faster.

Cora’s eyebrows drew together. Why was that SUV

driving so fast? She considered pulling onto the shoulder

to let it pass but it was already dark and she feared hitting

a deer. At any rate, the shoulder was incredibly narrow

and there was a short bridge up ahead. It would be far too

dangerous to attempt.

She gripped the steering wheel as the speeding SUV

drew incredibly close. She expected a turn signal to pop

on any second to alert her to the car’s intention to pass but

it never came. The SUV got closer and then, without

warning, slammed into the back of her car.

Cora let loose a string of expletives as her body lurched

forward and snapped back. She barely kept her car on the

road. Her fingers tightened on the steering wheel.

Adrenaline spilled into her bloodstream, igniting her fight-

or-flight response. It took her a millisecond to realize

what was happening.

The men who held her brother’s debts and burned down

her bakery had caught up with her.

Fear struck her heart. Cora floored the gas but it was no

use. The SUV revved up again and crashed into her

bumper. Her head flung forward and almost whacked the

steering wheel. The seat belt tightened and snapped her

back again. Her neck stung painfully from the wild

movement. She managed to straighten the wheel and keep

her car in its lane.

Could she do it again? Cora sincerely doubted it.

There was no time to think. The SUV clipped the side of

her car and sent her spinning. She hit the brakes but it was

no use. Everything happened so fast. She couldn’t see a

damn thing. She spun out of control before slamming into

something. A guardrail? She couldn’t be sure. Whatever it

was, the impact launched her car into the air.

Cora shrieked and held tight to the wheel. Suddenly she

was upside down. The backpack in the backseat flew

forward and whacked her headrest. The contents of her

purse exploded and splattered her face. Makeup, a cell

phone, her wallet, emergency tampons—they were like

confetti in the front seat.

And then the car smashed into the ground. It rolled

down some kind of embankment. Glass shattered in her

face. Metal crunched. There was intense pressure along

her left arm and leg.

Then everything stopped. The seat belt snapped tight

against her body and cut into her neck. Cora dangled

upside down in her seat. Excruciating pain ripped through

her arm and thigh. It was so dark she couldn’t see what

had happened to her limbs. Had they been broken by the

rolling? Probably.

Cora tried to release her seat belt with her good hand

but it wouldn’t let loose. She was stuck and fading fast.

Her head throbbed fiercely. Unconsciousness was only

seconds away.

And there were shouting voices drawing close.

* * *

Chained in his cell, Stig experienced a roller coaster of

emotions. He switched from a sensation of utter

despondence to self-loathing and then pure fear. His

dragon body vibrated with panic. It took him a moment to

realize the wild emotions weren’t his own. They belonged

to Cora.

And she was terrified.

He closed his eyes and embraced the alien feelings

coursing through him. Their burgeoning mate bond

transmitted her emotions straight to him. There was no

doubt. Cora was in extreme danger.

Stig cried out as searing pain tore through his arm and

leg. Cora was hurt and afraid. Something had happened to

her. A car accident? Or something worse.

As he tugged at his restraining chains, Cora’s problems

with the debts and the drug running burst to the forefront of

his mind. They’d been so wrapped up in the newness of

their love and overwhelming lust that her problems had

completely escaped him. Disgusted with himself, Stig

jerked on the chains again. Even in his dragon form, he

couldn’t muster the strength to bust them.

Cora’s questions about his lack of claviger sprang to

mind. She’d asked about his backup plans. Talk about

prophetic…

His inner beast still considered Cora his one and only

mate. Stig’s human mind tried to deny her but it was

impossible. She’d walked out on him and yet he still loved

her. No matter how far Cora ran, they were two halves of

a whole. He’d die for her. In this, his beast was in

complete agreement.

Stig snorted violently. His wings ached for release. He

had to get free of his bonds. He had to save Cora.

Without a second thought, Stig called forth his fire-

breathing ability and torched the chain attached to his left

wrist. They superheated in an instant and scalded his

leathery skin. The hide blistered around his wrist. He bit

back against the pain. It was a small price to pay for

Cora’s life.

By the time he reached the final chain, Stig’s limbs

ached painfully. He didn’t want to think about how long it

would take for the wounds to heal. He hoped they

wouldn’t prove a vulnerability if he had to fight.

Finally, the last chain snapped free. The hot cuffs still

burned his skin. A few links dangled from them like some

kind of bizarre jewelry. Stig sucked in a cooling breath.

As his lungs inflated, the acrid smoke cleared his nasal

passages and throat. The taste would linger in his mouth

for hours.

Stig raced upstairs, knocking his wings and tail on the

staircase and ceiling. He crashed through his kitchen and

living room. Whatever was broken could be replaced or

fixed. He didn’t even bother with the front door. He turned

his face and slammed into it. Wood and glass splintered in

all directions.

He ran down the front steps and sprinted across the

driveway. With a flex of his shoulders, Stig’s wings burst

forth. They immediately caught the wind. As he ran, Stig

flapped his wings and in no time at all lifted from the

ground. The cool night air whistled against his ears as he

gained height and speed.

Zeroing in on the pulse of Cora’s fear, Stig altered his

course. The longer he was in the air, the fainter Cora’s

radiating emotions felt. It stirred a primal fear in him. Was

she dying?

The thought made him sick. He flapped faster, pulling

his body tight and aerodynamic. Shaving off a few seconds

of flight time could mean the difference between Cora’s

life or her death. The glow of headlights came into view.

He dropped altitude and swerved toward what looked to

be a parked SUV. His hawklike gaze zeroed in on another

set of beams pointing at an awkward angle.

Cora’s car was upside down in a ditch.

There were two men standing outside the car. One of

them had something thrown over his shoulder—a body,

Cora’s body.

Enraged, Stig rocketed toward the ground. The sound of

his incoming landing ripped through the stillness of the

night. There would be no stealth in his attack. Head down,

he embraced his primal side and unleashed his inner beast

with a terrible shriek.

Down below, the bastards trying to kill Cora snapped to

attention. Their faces contorted in pure horror. Stig got a

twisted sense of pleasure from that sight. The goon holding

Cora got smart and tried to bolt. He threw her on the

ground like a sack of trash and took off toward the

embankment. Stig careened to the right and swiped the

fleeing man with his taloned feet. A scream erupted from

his throat and he tumbled back down the embankment.

With one goon rolling on the ground in pain and

bleeding profusely, Stig switched his attention to the other

man. To his surprise, the man pulled a gleaming
dao

sword from within the folds of his long black coat. He

stepped into the moonlight and Stig got an even better look

at the single-edged blade. There were very familiar

markings on the metal. A memory of a drawing of that

sword in one of the books Reynard kept in the Archives

sprang to mind.

Stig’s stomach clenched. A Knight. How the hell had

Cora gotten mixed up with the Knights? Or was it

something else? Was she just a pawn? And Hector too?

He’d sort out the specifics later. Right now, he had to

save Cora.

Stig hovered at a distance. If he hit the ground, he’d lose

that edge on his opponent. His gaze swept over the sword-

wielding man. This Knight clearly knew what he was

doing.

The slayer made a break for Cora, who was still

slumped unconscious on the grass. Stig didn’t waste a

second. He snorted a violent burst of fire. The slayer

skidded to a halt mere inches from the roiling flames. The

wall of fire pushed him away from Cora. Stig considered

rushing down and snatching her up but couldn’t be sure

how her touch might affect his ability to defend them. He’d

lost his dragon hide last night, which would come in handy

facing off with a well-armed Knight.

The sound of gunshots snapped in the darkness. Stig had

been so wrapped up in making sure Cora was safe that

he’d taken his eyes off the dragon slayer long enough for

the man to pull his weapon. A silver harpoon sliced

through Stig’s left wing. Metal teeth exploded from the

head of the lance, ripping through the thin membranes and

hooking onto one of the bony veins supporting his wings.

Stig tried to grasp the offending projectile but the slayer

yanked hard on the trailing line and tore through the length

of Stig’s wing. The burning pain ripped a hideous scream

from his throat. Try as he might, Stig couldn’t stay

airborne. His good wing flapped futilely. He turned his

focus to making the best landing possible.

With a thunderous boom, Stig slammed into the

unyielding ground. The air rushed from his lungs and left

him dizzy. But he couldn’t nurse his wounds. He had to get

up. He had to fight to protect Cora.

Stig clambered to his feet. The slayer struck just as he

rose on shaky limbs. The tip of his blade slashed through

Stig’s chest and punctured the gas sac that allowed his

breed to breathe fire. Stig choked as the noxious fumes

bubbled into his throat and out his nose and mouth. He

fought the instinctive urge to ignite them with a click of his

throat but that much gas in such a small space would cause

a fatal explosion in his mouth and one that would easily

engulf Cora.

He threw out his arm and struck the slayer hard enough

to knock him flat on his ass. Stig sucked in short, painful

breaths to try to clear his nasal passages and throat of the

gas. His broken and mutilated wing hung limp at his side.

The other snapped angrily. He flexed his talons and

prepared to engage his enemy with the only weapon he had

left: brute force.

Stig and the Knight rushed one another. In a flash of

talons and sword, they crashed. Both drew blood and both

refused to give even an inch. Stig knew this would be a

fight to the death. For Cora’s sake, he hoped he was the

one limping away from the battle.

The Knight struck another victorious blow with the

sword. Stig hissed as the blade sliced through his forearm.

Blood splattered the slayer’s face. With every beat of his

heart, the nicked artery spurted blood. Stig didn’t have to

be a doctor to know that was probably a fatal wound. He

didn’t have much time.

Gathering all his strength, Stig lashed out at the Knight.

He raked his razor-sharp talons across the slayer’s chest

and followed with a quick swipe of the man’s throat. The

Knight’s sword hit the ground. He stumbled forward, a

look of shock etched on his face. Clutching his bloody

throat, the slayer gurgled and collapsed to his knees. A

few moments later, he fell on his face and expired.