Dragon Awakened (8 page)

C
an we turn the lights down?”

Ruby followed Cyntag into a windowless room the size of a tennis court.

He stripped off his shirt and tossed it to the floor. “I forget, you still have the modesty of a Mundane.” He strode to the control box near the door and dimmed the lights.

The halogen lights honed the planes of his cheeks and angles of his jaw, razor sharpening the cut of his muscles. The mirrors on two sides of the room created infinite versions of him. Cyntag, everywhere she looked. She scratched at her stomach again. Damn rash was worse than ever.

“You have an itch,” he said, and she swore he meant
that
kind of itch. Which she did not have, thank you very much.

She waved her hand dismissively. “Psoriasis, the doctors think, though they've never given me anything that relieved it.”

“Show me.”

“You're used to ordering people around, aren't you? Of course, you're a sensei or whatever, with classes of rapt students following your every command.” And probably women falling at his feet.

“True. Your point?”

“Would it kill you to
ask
?”

He seemed to consider it. “No. Show me the rash. I'm not morbidly curious. I think I know what it is.”

With a roll of her eyes, she unbuttoned the lower part of her shirt and lifted it.

He knelt down to get a better look. The feel of his fingers brushing her skin startled her.

“Cyntag—”

“Call me Cyn.”

Cyn, which sounded like “sin.” Figured. Because with him kneeling in front of her, his dark hair catching the dim light, bare shoulders gleaming…
whoa. Cut that shit out.
“Well, Doctor Cyn, what is it?”

Though his hair was straight, a few locks had minds of their own, curling in various directions. She had the insane urge to run her fingers through what looked like silk.

He rose. “Dragon rash.”

“Huh?”

“Started when you were about thirteen?”

“Yeah.”

“Kicks up when you're stressed. I bet it was driving you mad when I Catalyzed—turned Dragon—in the library.”

“Well, yeah.”

He stroked his own dragon tattoo. “It's the part of you that's Dragon. And it's literally itching to come out.”

“It sounds like there's a creature inside me. I'm having flashbacks of that
Alien
movie when the baby alien bursts out of that guy's stomach.”

“It's not like that. It has no physical form outside of you.”

Her eyes widened. “I'm going to have a tattoo like that?”

“It's not a tattoo, but it passes for one. It's just below your skin's surface.” He wrapped his hand around her waist where the rash was. “We hold the essence of our Dragon inside us. Though we are mostly human, the Dragon is all animal. Once Awakened, it will pull at you to release it. To act on its impulses.”

She lifted her face to his, feeling the heat from his body, from his words, envelop her. “Impulses,” she heard herself repeat.

His fingers tightened on her skin, and he lowered his mouth just a little closer to hers. “It responds to stimuli like food, conflict…lust. When it wants something, it will goad and seduce you. It speaks to you telepathically, simple words like
mine
and
want
.” He let those words sink in.

And they did, like warm honey soaking into her skin. “Mine,” she repeated, feeling it thrum through her. “Want.”

“Mmm-hmm. And
hungry
.”

“Hungry,” she said, spellbound.

“And not for food.” His voice grew soft and low, his eyes hooded. “You'll feel it through your whole body, hear the siren song in your mind.”

Yes, she heard it, felt it. Her body began to sag toward him, wanting to feel him against her. The spell! Just like the spell the Dragon Prince wove around Garnet. Ruby stepped away, pulling down her shirt. “It sounds like being possessed.”

He ran his hand back through his hair and cleared his throat. “It can be if you let it get the best of you. The Dragon has no reasoning skills, fears no consequences. If we let it control us,
we
pay the consequences.”

“Oh, great.” She realized she was scratching again. “The rash has been a lot worse since…well, since I've been around you.”

“Your Dragon is responding to mine. It aches to be free. That's why I have this room, so I can let the beast run. I created the Obsidian Room so others can release it safely.”

Yes, something inside her
was
responding to him. She studied his tattoo, remembering how it had blinked when he'd done that Veil-lifting thing at his office. “I saw your Dragon move.”

He walked to a cabinet built into the far wall. The pants he wore reminded her of karate uniforms she'd seen, only the material was soft and did amazing things for his ass. It didn't hurt that he had a fine one, combined with the walk of a man comfortable in his skin. No matter what skin that was.

“They can move, but they won't crawl off you or down your leg or anything. Mostly they keep an eye on things.”

If only she could go back to the time when she thought it was mystery eczema.

He set several thick, short candles on the floor against the back wall. She wondered if he'd Breathe on the wicks to light them, but no, he used a lighter. Could he Breathe fire? Could she?

He turned on a stereo system and cranked what sounded like old rock and roll. She had a fleeting thought to run, get the hell out while she was still normal and human and…

You're not normal. Never were.

“Have any Red Hot Chili Peppers in there?” she asked instead, hearing a quiver in her voice.

“Nope. I tend
 to
 like the classic rock and metal music. Elvis was all right, but I started really enjoying music in the sixties and seventies.”

He was around when Elvis got his start. Wow. Just…wow.

“So my parents were Dragons?”

“Your mother was Dragon. Moncrief, your grandfather, and your father were Deuces. Descendents inherit only one aspect. Generally, the different types of Crescents don't intermingle, but love doesn't always make sense.” He let his gaze settle on her for a moment before his expression reverted to the business at hand. “Time to start. You need to submit to me. To my will.”

She anchored her hands on her hips. “Oh, this is the part where I would have been more malleable had you gotten your hands on me when I was thirteen.”

“I wasn't ‘getting my hands' on you.”

“I didn't mean it that way.” He probably wanted a woman more experienced in the ways of Dragon. And likely other things. “But I'm not submitting to you.”

He put his hands on her shoulders. “Ruby, as your sworn protector, I will lay my life on the line for you.” His words shivered through her because she heard the devotion in them. “But you have to do your part. You have to grow into your strength and power and out of your tough façade.”

“What do you mean, façade?”

He drew his finger from her shoulder to her collarbone, where he made tiny circles. “Your real strength lies here, in your Dragon. I'm your way of reaching that.”

She so did not like needing him. “I am tough. I didn't crumble in fear when that damned orb was chasing me or when I saw a friggin' demon.”

Damn it, his smile reeked of patronization. “You are tougher than most would be in your position. Now you have to get tougher.”

“I get images of you forcing me to kiss your boot.” Her eyebrows furrowed. “Or someplace even more degrading.”

His mouth twitched. “Interesting image. The more degrading place.”

She slapped his finger away. He laughed, irritating her even more because he never reacted the way she expected. Reminding her of the Dragon Prince on his wedding day.

“I don't need to force you to do petty acts to assuage my need for dominance. Submitting is an act of strength, not weakness. In the beginning, with your Dragon Awakened, it'll feel like riding a bucking bronco. Hold on tight. I'll be Dragon, too, and if I need to, I'll hold you down. Or knock you on your ass. I won't let you hurt yourself, or me, if you're out of control.”

All her life she'd done everything to be in control. Never drinking to excess, not doing drugs, being her own boss. Now she might lose it completely.

Her throat felt as though she'd swallowed sand. “How do I become human again?”

“You will it. You're the master. I suggest you remove your clothes now and set them in a neat pile so you can get to them easily when you Catalyze back. I'll cover my eyes.” He gave her such a condescending smile that she narrowed her eyes. He chuckled. “You have fire. Good. You'll need it.”

Déjà vu smacked her in the chest. She'd heard those words before, before the Dragon Prince enabled the spell. More bits were coming back—because they were living them.

He removed his pants and set them with his shirt. Not a speck of modesty. She watched him walk away, the candlelight gilding his glutes, and when he started to turn, she glanced down. Did he have to be achingly beautiful?

He faced away and covered his eyes with one hand. Her gaze drifted down wide shoulders that tapered to a narrow waist, his exquisite ass, and then strong legs dusted with hair as dark as the hair on his head. And the Dragon climbing up his back. Her gaze drifted to the mirror's reflection where she could see the front of him. His closed eyes and strong chin, the Dragon watching her…

“Ready?” he asked.

She started. “No.” The word snapped out of her mouth, only because she'd been gawking. She put her clothes in a pile far from his. After arranging her hair to fall over her breasts, she said, “All right.”

He turned around to face her. “I've been to a lot of ceremonies. Each teenager has a family member who triggers the Awakening. I will act in that role. When you Catalyze for the first time, it will be intense. Painful.” He must have seen her trepidation at those words. “I know you can handle it, Ruby, because you're meant for this. And I've been told you're quite tough.”

“Hah hah.” He still said her name in that sultry way, wrapping his voice around it like a coating of melted chocolate.

He placed his hands on either side of her face and brought his mouth toward hers. Her body wanted to fall toward him the moment his mouth settled over hers, but she remained on her feet.

Heat tore down her throat, lighting every vein on fire. Her body jolted with pain as fingers of flame reached into her extremities. Her rash felt as though it were tearing away from her body. She screamed, blindly reaching out and digging her fingers into his shoulders. He pulled his mouth away but jerked her against him. She gasped, her body shivering.

“Breathe, Ruby. Breathe through it. Your Dragon is waking up. Bring it in.”

“Hurts. Hurts so bad,” she managed to say. She thought for sure she was on fire, but he was holding her close, enduring the flames, too. She saw it then, behind her closed eyelids. The Dragon was deep red with streaks of white, its scales glossy. It lifted its head, stretching its neck and releasing a stream of fire from its mouth.

Then she was moving, faintly aware of her skin rubbing against Cyn's. The hunger inside, God, the hunger washed over her in great waves, and she no longer dug her nails in to fight against him. She pulled him closer, his chest against her cheek, the rub of his sprinkling of hair chafing her jaw. She ached to pull him inside her.

“Control, Ruby,” he whispered when he should have shouted it.

She shook her head, her mouth sliding against his skin. Her breath came in shallow pants, her hands moving over his back.

He lowered his head, his voice hoarse. “Ruby.”

She looked up at him, the embers wild in his eyes, and pulled his mouth down to hers. The need to taste him, to feel his mouth on hers again, overcame her. Her tongue sought his, dancing, sparring. His hands tightened on her, fingers tangling in her hair. She sucked on his tongue in an incredibly phallic way, then nibbled on his lower lip. Things she had never done before, never thought to do.

Hungry…

Yes, hungry for Cyn, for his touch. For the way his mouth devoured hers now. This overwhelming desire was something so new, so foreign, yet she embraced it. She flattened her body against his, wanting to feel all of him. His hands moving down her back, pulling her closer against him, his arousal a hard shaft pressing into her solar plexus, sent an inferno roaring through her. It stripped her humanity and left her…Dragon.

She opened her eyes and felt completely different, dense and brimming with power. Like Garnet, she saw the snout—her snout—growing out from her face. Standing in front of her was the black and indigo Dragon, nostrils flaring as it faced her.

“Ruby, are you okay? Talk to me.”

She nodded, feeling the weight of her head. “I…think so.” She looked down. Her chest puffed out in shiny scales of red. She lifted her hand, starting as it flexed its talons at her command. Then she lost her balance and stumbled.

He was beside her, holding her weight for the few seconds it took to regain her footing. That hot, hungry part of her reacted to his closeness, and she heard it emit a growl deep in her chest.

“Watch it, hot stuff,” he said. “Maybe I didn't make it clear that the Dragon part of you is very horny.”

“That would have been nice to know.” She had ravished him. The memory of it should have embarrassed her, but it excited her instead. She wanted more of him, his skin against hers, his—

She moved away from him, overwhelmed by his heat, and, damn, the hunger for him. Her Dragon wanted his Dragon bad.
Focus on me, not him, silly beast.

She lifted her hand again, this time ready for the shift in weight. “I'm a friggin' Dragon.”

His chuckle was soft and low. “Indeed you are.”