Page 50 of Dragon’s Rogue

It didn’t help that she was weak and nauseated from all the power she’d expended, and shaking from adrenalin reaction. She’d fought the coven and fallen three stories off a balcony—and somehow not died.

Because Zane had turned into a dragon, and saved her. Zane. A dragon. A great big horned, clawed, motherfucking probably fire-breathing dragon.

A freaking monster.

Right this minute, while she was clutching that hideous idol and shaking like a leaf, he was flying through the night with her cradled in his dragon arms. She was sitting in the palm of one monster hand, held right up against his chest, and he’d wrapped the other one around her, his huge talons and six-inch claws enclosing her like the safety bars on a theme park ride.

Gradually, as they flew, her shaking calmed. She still had occasional chills, but Dragon Zane was warm, like leaning against a radiator in the winter. Scales covered his body, but here on his talons and chest they were tiny and supple, making his skin feel soft.

And he was blue. For some reason that surprised her; she’d always thought of dragons as red or green or maybe black.

She wondered what other colors they came in.

Thinking about Zane and dragon scales and colors was comforting. It meant she didn’t have to think about the fact that the coven had come after her.

Silas had come after her.

They would have killed her. They nearly had.

She’d always told herself that would happen—that if they found her, they’d kill her. It was why she was so careful, so paranoid.

And yet, she realized now a part of her had never quite believed it. These were people she’d grown up with—her extended family. How could they want to hurt her?

And if they would, she’d never wanted to know. Now she did, and she had to live with the fact that she was really, truly alone.

She shivered. They’d found her. They knew where she was; they knew the name she was using now. And they knew she still had the idol.

She clenched her hand around it. Part of her wanted to just drop it, let it tumble to the ground and be done with it. Better yet, drop it straight into the river.

But she knew, deep in her heart, that it would surface again. It would make sure it got into the hands of someone with power, someone it could control.

“Like Frodo’s bloody damn ring,” she muttered.

Pardon?

Holy hell. Dragon Zane could talk inside her mind. And he didn’t get the reference, so he’d clearly never read Lord of the Rings. Maybe he’d been offended by the dragon murder in The Hobbit and never gone any further. “Um—where are we going?” she asked.

My evil lair, of course.

His mind-voice sounded like he was kidding. She didn’t know how she knew that, but she did. “Not funny,” she said. “Not after the night I’ve had. In fact, I think I need you to put me down, because I’m kind of freaking out.”

She’d started shaking again. Because, hello. Dragon talking in her mind and taking her somewhere she probably couldn’t escape from.

Um, put you down where exactly?

Good point. They were like a gazillion feet above Portland. She wondered if there was a helipad on top of any of these hotels. Preferably one with a bar, because she could really use a drink right now.

And she did not want to go to a dragon’s lair. That couldn’t be a smart move. “Anywhere,” she said. “The Nines hotel has a nice rooftop bar. Or, you know. Just anywhere I can get a cab.”

There was a silence. Then, Am I really that much scarier than the people who just tried to kill you?

“To be honest, right now everything about my life is pretty scary.”

There was another silence, longer this time.

I won’t harm you. His voice was soft in her mind. Quiet, and a little… hurt? Could dragons get their feelings hurt?

But I do think my lair is the safest place. There was a pause. You’re free to leave at any time.