Soldier (Talon, #3)(82)
“Humans can.”
“You’re not human!”
“Part of me is.” Ember blinked rapidly, like she was holding back tears. Another shock; I’d never known a dragon that could really cry. Several of my former associates could, if pressed, produce some very convincing tears, but they were excellent actors, and few things could lower someone’s guard better than turning on the waterworks. The old adage of “beware a crocodile’s tears” held true for dragons, as well.
“Part of me...has to be,” Ember went on, sounding like she was groping to understand, herself. “It’s the only thing I can think of. Otherwise, how could I feel like this?” She swiped a hand over her eyes, frowning. “Maybe that’s another thing Talon has hidden from us. Maybe...we’ve been imitating humans for so long, looking and acting and sounding like them, that it’s not imitation anymore. Maybe we’ve become human, after all.”
I curled a lip at the idea as anger buzzed through my veins, turning them hot, bringing the dragon even closer to the surface. “That’s an excuse, Firebrand, and a pretty flimsy one at that,” I sneered, and she turned on me, eyes narrowed. “I think you’re just scared of this whole life-mate thing, and you’re looking for anything to counter it.”
“That’s not true! I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You can’t hurt me,” I said scornfully. Lying through my teeth. “I’m a dragon. Don’t try to spare my feelings. I’m not the soldier.”
And of course at that moment, the bolt clicked, and the door swung back as the soldier stepped into the room.
I didn’t stop to think. I didn’t even remember moving. Cobalt surged up with a roar, and the next thing I knew, I had lunged across the room, grabbed the solder by the collar and slammed him into the wall.
He grunted as I shoved him into the plaster, and then those hard gray eyes met mine. He didn’t struggle or throw any punches, though I could feel the tension in his arms and back, ready to explode into violence if needed. I dug my fingers into his shirt, feeling talons aching to come out, to rip through cloth and flesh and muscle until this human was nothing but a bloody smear on the floor.
“Riley!” Ember snarled, and I heard the echo of the dragon in her voice, too. I ignored it, glaring at the soldier pinned against the wall, the human who had turned my hatchling away from me. Ember was mine. My life-mate. My Sallith’tahn. St. George was a threat, and I’d be perfectly within my rights to drive him off; out of my territory, and away from my mate.
If he was a dragon. And we lived in the Dark Ages.
St. George still hadn’t moved. His eyes were still locked with mine as he said in a low, reasonable voice, “I’m not your enemy, Riley. Whatever you think of me, this won’t help what we’re trying to do.”
“Shut up, St. George!” I snarled at him. “Don’t pull that ‘reasonable’ crap with me. I was a Basilisk long before you could wrap your fingers around a gun. I know exactly what you’re trying to do, and I am in an extremely unreasonable mood right now. So, go on,” I hissed, seeing my reflection in his eyes, my pupils narrowed to vertical, reptilian slits. “Give me one reason I shouldn’t rip you into five different pieces right here. Or at least kick your ass back to the Order where you belong.”
“I can give you several,” the soldier replied carefully, and his gaze flicked to something over my shoulder. “But, the most obvious one is standing right behind you.”
Still keeping one fist in the human’s collar, I turned...
...to face a furious, growling red dragon.
Ember stared at me, her head and neck low to the ground, wings partially spread, muzzle pulled back from her teeth. Her back spines were fully erect, and her tail stretched out behind her, only the spade tip flicking back and forth. A primal, unconscious and very obvious threat display. If I didn’t back off right now, she would attack.
Instinctively, I dropped my fist from the human’s collar, but didn’t move from there, turning to face Ember directly. “So, you’ve really decided, Firebrand?” I asked the dragon, who then blinked and raised her head, looking almost dazed at her own reaction. “This is what you want. A human, who will never understand you. Who will never be your equal. Who will be gone in the blink of an eye, no matter how hard you try to hold on.”
The red hatchling twitched her tail, her eyes shadowed. “I’m sorry, Riley.”
“Don’t apologize.” I twisted my lips into a bitter smile. “Of the three of us, I’m not the one who needs pity.”
The door clicked, a sharp sound in the tense quiet, and Wes stepped into the room, his eyes going wide as he saw us. “Shit!” he exclaimed, and quickly shut the door behind him. “Bloody hell, what is wrong with you people?” he went on, throwing the locks and whirling on all of us. “At least close the curtains if you’re going to be flapping your wings where everyone can see them!” Before I could answer, he turned to the soldier, not picking up on—or choosing to ignore—the obvious tension in the room. “What is taking so bloody long, St. George? I thought you were going to tell them.”
The soldier’s voice was dry. “I was somewhat distracted.”
“Tell us what?” I asked.
“Tristan contacted me,” St. George replied. “In the parking lot, just as we were pulling in. He sent me a time and a meeting place not far from here.” His tone was carefully neutral as he looked from me to Ember. “I thought you might want to know his answer.”