Ember dragons of drakes.., p.5

Ember (Dragons of Drake's Crossing Book 2), page 5

 

Ember (Dragons of Drake's Crossing Book 2)
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  “That’s what I thought,” she said, shaking her head. “Get off your high horse, mister.” She turned and took several steps back down the mountain. “Now, do you want to see the town or not?”

  Rhyolite got a hold of himself and nodded. “Yes. I am famished.”

  “I hope you brought some of your gold. Because this isn’t free, and I’m surely not paying for what I suspect is going to be an extraordinary amount of food.”

  “Pay?”

  “Yes. You know, the exchange of something of value? A merchant will sell you food, and you have to pay for it with goods. In today’s society we call it money or cash. So your gold will get you a certain amount of money, and then you use that to pay for items you want. Food, clothing, etcetera.”

  He nodded in understanding. “I am aware of the system. My point was, why would I pay? I am Rhyolite, a dragon. You humans are nothing. I shall simply take what I want.”

  In front of him she sagged, her shoulders drooping as she slowed her walk down the mountain slope. Rhyolite frowned at the sight. Obviously his words had disappointed her. Much to his surprise, he found himself unhappy with the prospect of letting her down. That was…unexpected. Why should he care about how a human felt about him? It made no sense.

  “You know, you can’t just walk in and take whatever you want.”

  “Why not?”

  “Well for one, it’s rude and impolite. Secondly, these people work hard for their items. Why should you have the right to just take it? Might makes right is not an acceptable answer,” she added as he opened his mouth to reply.

  Rhyolite closed it, once again not having an answer. “Very well.” He didn’t tell her he’d brought some gold anyway, just in case. He liked to be prepared.

  “All right then. It’s a good thing I came up here. Letting you walk around town on your own is a dangerous proposition.”

  She glanced over her shoulder at him and he met her gaze with his. Their eyes met and he found himself enjoying staring into the stormy gray circles, watching intently as her pupils dilated slightly. It was tough to tell with the wind blowing, but he thought her cheeks might have turned slightly redder as well.

  “Watch out.”

  “What?” she turned around and yelped as a tree loomed up in front of her. She tried to dodge to the side but lost her balance and started to fall.

  “I’ve got you,” he said calmly as he stepped forward at full speed, scooping her up for the second time before she fell into a bank of snow. “All safe.” He turned as he grabbed her, slowing himself down by the simple expedient of using the trunk to stop him. His shoulders slammed into it slightly harder than intended.

  Which shook the entire tree, shivering the branches, all of which were laden with snow, dropping it down on the couple. White powder dropped like a stone onto them, burying the two of them up to his waist.

  “Smooth.” She spat snow from her face and shook her head to clear it. “That was some rescue.”

  He chuckled. They were, for the moment, trapped, her warm body pressed tightly to his chest. The situation wasn’t altogether unpleasant, and he quickly found himself appreciating the slightly sweet fragrance that she was wearing. It was the first pleasant thing he’d smelled besides the fresh air since he’d woken up, and Rhyolite was in no rush to get rid of it.

  “Are you just going to hold me like this until the snow melts?” she asked, tapping on his shoulder to get his attention.

  “Would you like me to put you down?”

  “Please.”

  Rhyolite shrugged. “As you wish.” He dropped his arms to his sides.

  “HEY!” was all she had time to shout before she sank into the snowbank with very little in the way of grace.

  Laughing brightly, he reached down and scooped her up by her shoulders, setting her on her feet. The look on her face made him laugh even harder and he threw back his head.

  That’s when she scooped up a huge double-handful of snow and smacked it into his face. Half of it went into his lungs and he doubled over, choking and coughing as he hacked up the white flakes.

  It was her turn to laugh as she bulled her way through the snow until it only came up to her shins. “Take that!” she called behind her.

  He recovered long enough to pack a snowball—gently—and send it winging toward the back of her head.

  “Ack!” she cried out as it impacted, his aim perfect for a change. She stumbled and went down to one knee. Rhyolite thought perhaps he’d hurt her, and started charging forward.

  Which is when she stood up, spun, and fired a snowball into his face. So intent was he on ensuring that she wasn’t injured he didn’t get the slightest chance to move out of the way.

  “Pth, blth,” he sputtered, spitting snow out.

  “Come on!” she shouted with a laugh, beckoning him forward. “Let’s go get food. I’m hungry.”

  Rhyolite grinned and bounded after her, clearing the last of the deposited snow and skipping down the slope with ease to catch up.

  He liked her. Perhaps sleeping for so long wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

  Chapter Eight

  Aimee

  They reached her SUV shortly after.

  She was still marveling at the unbelievable odds that they’d met on the mountain. Even crazier though was the bond she felt developing between them. It had shocked her to realize that there was an actual person in there. She’d initially assumed that he was a dragon who could shift into a human form. It had been an assumption on her part that his personality would always reflect that of the stereotypical dragon.

  But the more time he was spending in his human form, the more she began to wonder if she’d gotten it backward. If he was, perhaps, a human who could shift into dragon form. The ability to joke, and to her amazement even flirt with her a little had caught Aimee completely by surprise. There was no denying that that’s what they’d engaged in back there. She wasn’t ready to address the fact that she’d actively participated in it, nor discuss with herself the little shiver that raced down her spine every time his eyes locked onto hers.

  She wasn’t going to fall for a dragon. Period. End of story.

  “Get in,” she said with a gesture, letting him know the vehicle was hers.

  Rhyolite walked up to the black vehicle and stopped. “Um.”

  She could see his embarrassment. “Right. You’ve obviously never seen a car.”

  “A car?”

  “Well, SUV technically, but don’t worry about it. ‘Car’ is a universal term for most vehicles,” she said, grimacing as she babbled slightly. Shaking her head and wondering just when she’d gone and developed a nervousness around men, Aimee walked around to the passenger side and showed him how to operate the door.

  “Interesting.” He paused.

  “Is there a problem?”

  “Well, my father always warned me about getting into metal cages with strange women. I think it’s how I—”

  “STOP!” she shouted, holding up a hand and shaking her head furiously. “No. No no no. No more, please. I had no idea that saying went so far back. But I get it. Enough.”

  Rhyolite smiled.

  “No, not funny dude. You don’t even know my name! You can’t make jokes like that.”

  Rhyolite jerked backward. “You’re right.”

  “I know I’m right! Dirty jokes have a time and a place. This is not it.”

  “What? No, not that. I mean, yes, that too. But I’ve been terribly amiss,” he said apologetically. “My manners have abandoned me it would seem. Please, my name is Rhyolite, as you already know.” He stuck out his hand.

  She eyed it for a moment, but internally she knew there was nothing she could do but accept it and give him her name.

  “Aimee Florette,” she said, extending her hand.

  “You have two names?” he asked, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.

  Aimee let his hand slip away with an unexpected feeling of regret. It took a significant amount of mental effort to focus herself on his question. She managed, but whatever it was about him, she could feel it pulling at her like a magnet. This was going to be tough.

  “Yes. Aimee is my name, and Florette is my family name.”

  He nodded.

  “So, Rhys, are you going to continue to stand there and deflect the situation while you work up the courage to go for a ride, or are you going to get in?” She grinned at him and got inside.

  “Rice? I’m not a food.”

  Maybe not, but you are pretty delicious-looking.

  “No, not a food. A shortening of your name. I’m lazy; I want to use one syllable. It’s common,” she assured him as he looked at her suspiciously.

  “Very well.”

  “Now get in the car,” she ordered with a wink.

  He awkwardly entered the passenger side, pulling the door closed hard enough to make her wince, though she doubted there was any actual damage. She saw him pick up on her reaction though and he apologized. At least, she thought that’s what he said, but her eyes were too busy focusing on his lips as he spoke to hear the actual words. He was very kissable.

  The thought struck her like a lightning bolt and she sat upright immediately, stomping on the brake pedal and hammering the ignition button with her finger.

  Get it together, girl. Look, let’s acknowledge one thing. He’s gorgeous. That hair shouldn’t be that fine for someone asleep for so long, and shouldn’t he have a huge beard instead of that dreamy day-old stubble that I just want to rub my hand all over? Ugh, and that jawline, he’s straight out of some calendar shoot.

  She’d been pressed against his chest twice today, and the memory of the power and ease with which he’d swept her up was mixed together with the firmness of his muscles. He was wearing a shirt of some sort of rough fabric, which she’d felt when it rubbed against her exposed cheek once, but Aimee could easily imagine what he looked like underneath it.

  Everything about him was perfect with gorgeous lines, except his nose. It had a slight bend to it that looked like it had been broken and never healed properly. It was faint, but she’d been staring at his face long enough now she saw it with ease. Some might not like it, but to her it added the perfect bit of personality to a face that would otherwise be too gorgeous to look at for long.

  It made him human, something that she realized she’d desperately been craving from him. That, combined with his earlier antics was making him more accessible to her, more relatable. It was almost as if he was able to sense her thoughts.

  “Or read my mind.”

  “Pardon?”

  “Can you read minds?” she asked, pulling on her seatbelt and showing him how to do the same as a way of deflecting the fact she hadn’t intended to ask that question aloud.

  “What? No, that’s not an ability that we possess.” It was obvious he was holding back.

  “At all?”

  “I cannot just look into your mind any time I wish,” he reassured her.

  It was an answer, albeit not a full one. Still, it assuaged the concerns she had. Who was she to judge if he wished to keep some secrets? The fact that he’d let her live with the knowledge that he even existed spoke volumes about his trust for her. She could let him have this one.

  “So, what are you capable of?” she asked as she wheeled the vehicle around and headed back down the road toward Drake’s Crossing.

  “Hmmm. Well, we can fly, you know. That’s pretty fun.”

  She snorted. “No shit. Dragons can fly? Man, that is cool.”

  “It can get cold up there, yes, but—”

  Aimee started laughing, cutting him off with a wave of one hand, keeping the other on the wheel. “No, no, not literal. Cool when used like that means it’s neat, interesting, that sort of thing.”

  “Ah. Then yes, it is cool.”

  “Yeah. I love flying.”

  Rhys looked over at her so sharply she thought he was going to break his neck. Even viewing it out of the corner of her eye it had looked like a violent movement.

  “You can fly?” he asked cautiously.

  “What?” She was confused. “Oh! No, not like you can, that’s not what I meant. In the helicopter for my job. The thing that I first landed near your cave in?”

  “Oh, of course. That makes a lot more sense. What is your job? Does everyone ride in one of those helicopters?”

  “No. Not many people do at all, to be honest. I work as part of the Search and Rescue Team for Drake’s Crossing.” She briefly outlined what that meant.

  “You risk yourself for the sake of others?”

  “Yes,” she replied instantly.

  “That’s very noble of you.”

  She shrugged. “I suppose.”

  “Don’t be so unkind to yourself. That is a very kind thing for you to do. In my time, it was rather unheard of.”

  “Maybe.” She wasn’t sure what else to say. “The world is a different place now, Rhys. I think, even with the ability to adapt that you’ve shown so far, that you’re going to feel way out of your depth once we get to Drake’s Crossing.”

  He grinned. “I doubt it.”

  Chapter Nine

  Rhys

  “I feel so out of place.”

  He stared around in wonder at the town. “Look at the size of those buildings,” he said, awed as they rose way up into the sky.

  “Those? That’s nothing. This is a tiny little town. Go to a big city, they are much, much bigger.”

  She was bragging, but in this instance, it was perfectly acceptable. Rhyolite had been so sure of himself, of the fact that society couldn’t have changed that much, that he would still be able to feel a part of it.

  He’d never been so wrong about something in his life. It was absolutely stunning. Vehicles like the one he was within were everywhere, in all different shapes and sizes, some of them massive, towing big rectangular boxes behind them. Those were called “tractor-trailers” apparently, and they were used in place of the horse and cart system he’d known. It was slightly more efficient.

  “Unbelievable. And look, everyone is on those gadgets.”

  “Cell phones,” she reminded him. “And yes, they’re a blessing and a curse. They keep us all connected, but they also keep us all connected.”

  He had to think about that for a moment, but eventually the meaning came through. “Ah, as in, you find it hard to pull away after a while. To separate things from one another.”

  She was nodding along. “Yep. You are no longer ever truly ‘off the clock’ for work when your boss can send you a message at any point in time.”

  “I still don’t understand how that works,” he admitted. She’d given him a brief overview, but there was just so much to learn, he was feeling overwhelmed.

  “We’ll go over it again,” she promised. “You’re a quick learner; I don’t expect it to take long.”

  He sat a little straighter at the compliment. She was impressed by him! It felt good to know that. Keeping it up was going to be tough. He suspected neither of them truly understood what it was going to take to get him up to speed on the world, but he was going to give it everything he had. It would be enough. It had to be.

  “Okay, we’re here.”

  He looked up to see a sign that read Drake’s Delicatessen & Desserts.

  “What is this place?”

  “You said you were hungry. So we’re here to get you some food. Also me, I’m starving.”

  Aimee expertly guided them off the main path and into an area that seemed to be designated for storage of the various vehicles, as he’d learned they were also termed. So many different words to describe the same thing, it was making his head hurt. Food was definitely necessary.

  He emerged, closing the door with more grace than he had upon entering. The look she’d given him then had told her he’d screwed up, and he didn’t want to do that again. All around him the press of the town weighed down on him as he stood there. Rhyolite wasn’t sure how they handled such density.

  “Let’s go, Rhys.”

  “Why do you call me that?” he asked. “My name is Rhyolite. Can you not put the effort into saying it? I do not want a new name. Or a short name.”

  “Yeah, you need food.” Her tone indicated she was frustrated with him.

  Too bad. He liked his name.

  “There are two reasons. First, because I feel comfortable enough with you that I can be informal. Which is crazy, I don’t understand how, but I do. Even though you’re a dragon. Which is also crazy.”

  He saw her looking around as she spoke.

  “Are you looking for something?”

  “Just to see if people are staring at me.”

  “Why would they do that?”

  “Well, if you’re not real, then I’m just talking to the air. That’s not normal, and people tend to stare at things that aren’t normal.”

  Rolling his eyes, he walked around to where she stood on her side, grabbed Aimee’s bare hand, and pressed it to his face. “Do I feel fake?” he asked.

  She shook her head meekly.

  Then he grabbed her hand within his. “How about now?”

  “No,” she squeaked, her hands tightening around his in what sounded like fear.

  “I’m real. Not part of your imagination. You need to get over that,” he told her, frustrated at her inability to believe him.

  He’d thought she was better than the others.

  “Right,” she said, her voice strengthening. “The other reason is because you need to stay low.”

  “Oh, why didn’t you say so?” He crouched down.

  “Eep!” Aimee cried out as she was dragged down as well.

  Both of them looked down to notice that their hands were still joined together, neither of them having let go. That was odd…he could have sworn he’d let go right after she’d answered him.

  Aimee was looking at it the same. Almost as one they opened their hands and pulled them apart. She stood, he remained crouched.

  “What are you doing?”

  “You told me to stay low? I’m trying to do as you recommend.” He was getting irritated with her lack of direction. Just say what she meant.

 

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