On the Accidental Wings of Dragons (Dragons of Eternity Book 1) (5 page)

5

Ouch!
Michael stared up at the fluffy puffs of white floating in blue. What the hell just happened? His arms flopped out beside him, and he tried to get his brain to work. Apparently, only one head worked at a time. Probably lack of blood.

Shaking his head, he closed his eyes to focus. He had been sitting on the grass, brooding. He definitely remembered Carissa snatching him up, in her
mouth
, and tossing him onto her back. But what next? He didn’t remember. Somehow, he went from clutching to her neck for dear life to her slapping him and running off.

He rolled his hand over and rubbed the vegetation. Nope, definitely different grass. So what had happened in between? Had they been having sex? It sure felt like it. He looked down his body. His clothes were all rumpled, and he could see himself, hard as a rock, sticking out of his open fly. Sure looked like it. There was an obvious sheen around his crotch where he had been rubbing up against something very wet. His body shuddered at the vague memory of soft skin under his hands.
What the hell?

Sitting up, Michael pulled his coat off. It was too damned hot for it. He fluffed his shirt out, hiding his erection from view. There was no way he was going to stick that thing back in his pants right now. It hurt like hell. In fact, all of him ached. And why was it so damned hot! Where the hell were they?

He yanked the strings on his boots and kicked them off. If he couldn’t get answers, maybe he could at least get comfortable. Ripping his socks off, he wiggled his toes into the cool grass. That was somewhat better. Sweat trickled into his eye.
But not good enough.
He yanked his shirt off and dropped it into his lap.
That’s better.

Lying back into the grass, Michael let his mind work on the problem. Was he sick? He ached. He was hungry. His mind was all over the place. A shiver hit him as the heat in the area disappeared. Okay, so maybe he was running a fever. And he
itched!
He wiggled his back into the ground, trying to scrape the skin off.
Definitely sick.
He was going to need to see the medic as soon as they got back. Then, straight to a psych eval.

God, he didn’t want to lose his place as an Elite, but he couldn’t go out on missions like this. He couldn’t concentrate. Had that stay in a real dungeon cracked his mind? Or was it Carissa’s hormones messing with his head? And who turned up the damned heat again?

Michael rolled onto his side, trying to find a position that didn’t hurt and itch. Maybe he rolled through something as they fell down that hill. More memories popped into his head. The sight of Carissa storming away from him, naked and covered in scrapes. God, she was beautiful. His body pulsed with need. But, she was hurt. He had to find her.

Pushing up from the ground, Michael tried to call her name, but nothing came out. Damn it, she’d stolen his voice again. How did she do that? He managed to get to his hands and knees. Almost there. The heat disappeared from the world again.
Would someone please stop fucking with the thermostat?
It was really starting to piss him off.

He tried to push the rest of the way to his feet. Carissa was hurt. He had to find her! His limbs trembled as pain clenched his stomach. His hand shot to his middle, and he face-planted into the nice, hard ground. Great, definitely dying here. Someone tell his mother he loved her. He curled into a ball, groaning silently.

The shithead playing with the thermostat turned it up again… to about a thousand degrees. God, his skin burned everywhere. Thrashing about, he ripped off his pants. Who cared if she saw him naked? At least those vile things weren’t rubbing on his oversensitive skin. Now he just had to make it stop itching! Michael worked his nails into his arms, leaving long, bloody scrapes.

Another ball of pain shot out of his stomach. Curling his arms around his middle, he rolled into himself, face-down on the grass. He suddenly felt like he was coming apart at the seams. Maybe if he held on tight enough, he’d survive it. More pain raced down his back, leaving him silently screaming in agony. If anyone were going to kill him, now would be the perfect time. He would most definitely appreciate the relief.

One more agonizing breath, and his world shattered. He could literally feel his body rip itself apart. It shifted and swirled in on itself. God, he was going to be sick on top of everything else. Darkness closed over his eyes, and for one short, blessed moment, he was sure he was passing out.
Thank God.

But he didn’t.
Damn it.

Seconds seemed to stretch on forever as alternating heat and cold tore their way through him. Couldn’t his body make up its mind? Obviously not. Finally, after what seemed like eternity, the pain faded, the hot and cold decided to get together in a nice, comfortable warm, and the itching died to a dull roar.

Michael waited for the next bout of heat or pain, but it didn’t come. Great. He’d survived. Yay. Now he just had to figure out what kind of bug he had caught so he could get the antidote.

He slowly opened his eyes. The world looked wrong. The colors were off. More brilliant. Sharper. He closed them again. Maybe he hadn’t recovered yet. But, the world smelled different, too. Things he hadn’t noticed before were sharper. The dirt and grass were divine. And he could smell her. Carissa. How he knew it was her was beyond him, but it was. And she smelled wonderful.

Mine!

His brain screamed out that one-word declaration. He had to find her. She was hurt. She was missing a scale. He had to protect her.

Pushing up, Michael managed to get to his hands and knees. Shit! His balance was way off. His body felt weird. Not hurt, just off. Carissa.
Mine!
He had to get to
Mine!
. She needed him. Opening his eyes, he took in the strange hues. God, that looked weird. Spying the cabin, he closed his eyes and followed his nose. She went that way. He just knew it. He staggered forwards on his hands and feet before toppling over onto his side.

Feet? How had he been on his hands and feet without his butt being up in the air? It didn’t matter right now. Protect
Mine!
. Michael tried to get up again but only managed to flop about on the ground. Darkness ate away at the edges of his mind. Great. Now that he had something important to do, he passed out.
Thanks world; I love you, too.

***

“Darien!” Carissa screamed as she burst through the door. She paused for a moment as her eyes adjusted to the dim light in the cabin. Everything inside was still. Was he there? Her eyes found her quarry crouched on the floor in the corner, staring at her. He looked just as she remembered. Tall, trim, with twinkling green eyes.

Unfolding his lanky frame, Darien cocked his head at her. He ran his eyes up and down her naked body. “Carissa?” Setting the book he had been getting on the table, he crossed the room with an easy, flowing gate. “What’s wrong?” He wrapped his long fingers around her shoulders and pulled her fully into the cabin.

Carissa pulled on Darien’s long robes. “Come; he’s changing.”

Darien caught her hand and looked at the long scratches on her arms. He pulled in a deep breath. “Have you decided to take a mate?” His voice sounded intrigued.

A mate! How had he come up with that idea? Reality smacked her yet again.
Of course.
She was a mess; she smelled of male dragon, sex, and brooding. What other possible conclusion could he have reached? “No, no. Not that.” Carissa shook her head. “It’s just…” How was she supposed to explain this? She needed to get him out to check on Michael. “It’s complicated. Come on.” She pulled on his hand, trying to get the man to move.

“Carissa, My Lady, what happened?” He pulled her back.

Great. He was going to want the full story before he moved to help. She should have known; Darien never acted in haste. Fine, he wanted the story, he’d get it.

“I was kidnapped, thrown in a dungeon, mucked about with magic, and I escaped. Now there is a man out there in the process of changing into a dragon,” Carissa rapid-fired at him. “Now, come on.” She tugged at the immovable man’s hand.

“You were kidnapped?” Concern filled his face and voice. “Are you hurt? Does your brother know?” Darien’s hands tried to turn her around to check for wounds.

Carissa pushed them away. “I’m fine,” she snapped and regretted it. Darien didn’t deserve the sharp side of her tongue. Man, she was frazzled. Taking a deep breath, she started again. “I’m sorry.” Her voice was softer this time. “I got a little scraped up rolling down a hill as we escaped, but otherwise, I’m fine. I don’t know if my brother knows; we just got out of there, and I haven’t had the chance to talk to him. There is a man out front, Michael, in the middle of his first brooding.”

“First brooding?” Darien’s eyes widened. “Why would his mother let him out so close to a brooding? He could hurt himself.”

“He’s not a child.” Carissa pulled on Darien’s hand. “He’s full-grown.” Darien let her pull him forwards.
Finally!

“Full-grown, and in a first brooding. How is that possible? Brooding starts around five or six.”

“He’s human. Or
was
.” That got Darien’s feet really moving.

“What have you done?”

“I needed a voice.” Carissa’s answer almost sounded like a whine. When had she started getting whiny? “Given the options, I made the only choice I could see.” She looked over the yard for Michael. He was not where she had left him, but his clothes were. Where the hell had he gone?

“There are always options.” Darien looked over the mess strung across the yard. “Where’s your friend?”

Panic rose in her heart. “I don’t know.” He could get into all sorts of trouble out there. He didn’t know the first thing about being a dragon. Her eyes searched the scene. Coat, shoes, pants, shirt, underwear,
what’s that white thing?
The form was familiar, but the color was wrong. Oh, God, no. Her feet carried her to it. Oh yes, a dragon, no larger than a house cat. Just like her small form, complete with the bony frill and fringed tail, but with little horns. Only, the color was all wrong.

Her brother was going to kill her.

Darien stood next to her, looking down at her problem. “Oh, Carissa, what have you done?”

“I woke up in a warded dungeon racked with pain,” she explained as she reached down to touch the limp form. His heartbeat was steady. Good. “Michael was chained to the wall, dying. He’s a trooper, but I could tell he wouldn’t last much longer without water. So, I gave it to him the only way I could—by mouth.”

Darien gave her a surprised look.

“Please don’t lecture me. I’d just woken up, was in pain, on morphine, and, well, not thinking clearly.”

“Obviously.”

“Anyway, after that, he was in no state to help.” Carissa gently rolled Michael over, tucking his wings back along his body. “I kept cursing myself. If I’d just had a voice, I could get us both out of there. Then it hit me. The old stories. Humans to dragons. If he were a dragon, I could use his voice to save us. I knew how it was done; many of my books spoke of it.”

“They also spoke of the dangers,” Darien chided her. “Carissa, his mind may not have survived the change. Humans are fragile creatures.”

Carissa rolled the small dragon into her arms and held him close. “I know, but he’s a member of Eternity.” She stroked Michael’s back.

Darien raised an eyebrow at her. “Are you sure?”

Carissa nodded at the clothing scattered around. “Their emblem was on his med pack. And his shirt.”

“That doesn’t mean a thing.” Darien shook his head. “You know the differences between forms. It may be too much for his limited mind to handle. He could get stuck in one form, unable to change. Do you really want a mad dragon on a rampage?” His eyes held compassion as he spoke. “The best thing you can do is put him down, right now, before things get worse.”

Carissa caressed the warm bundle as she thought about it. It would be easy. Just a quick twist of that tiny head and
snap
, no more problems. But what kind of way was that to repay him for his service? Without his help, she would still be in that cell. He had carried her to freedom when she passed out. He had done everything he could to protect her. Now she was supposed to kill him for his kindness? She ran her fingers over the white scales. No, not white. Clear. Carissa bent closer to him. His scales had the same iridescence of any dragon, but they lacked the pigment that gave them color. Interesting.

“No,” she decided. “I’ll deal with it if he’s lost,” she turned her eyes up to Darien, “but he at least deserves a chance.”

“As you wish, My Lady.” Darien crossed his hand to his heart and bowed to her, accepting her decision. “I am at your service.”

Great, now Michael had his own personal executioner. Woo-hoo. Things were not going as well as she planned. Well, she hadn’t really planned
anything
, but still.

“Thank you, Darien.” She cuddled the little dragon to her again. “I hope to never have to call on your services for that.”

“Why don’t we get you both inside?” Darien held his hand down to help her up. “It sounds like you’ve had a trying time. Maybe some food would help.”