Sword of the King
Dec. 8th, 2006 07:42 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
maderrSection II
All around him people whispered and muttered, astonished to see that Cal was still in his human form as the start signal rang out.
The dark gray rock dragon threw itself at him – Cal dodged neatly away and dropped to all fours as he changed. Freely. At will. No injection necessary at all.
Whispers turned to gasps, mutters to startled cries as all saw the dragon that gleamed in the light.
Dragons weren’t the huge beasts myth and legend took them for. They weren’t small either, but somewhere between a small pony and large dog. From nose to tip of tail dragons averaged anywhere from twelve to sixteen feet. So far as their feet went – again more in common with cats. Padding, retractable claws. They had the sinuous, lethal grace of a wild cat combined the ominous presence of a crocodile, with an extended neck ending in a triangular head full of teeth meant for tearing flesh from bone. Those unused to the sight of a real dragon often thought them some sort of monster rather than the popular creatures from legends.
Beasts meant for fighting weren’t ever going to look pretty. He still thought Cal beautiful, as stunning as the first day they’d met. Instead of green, red, black, or any of the other usual colors – Cal’s scales glistened like polished steel, as though the dragon were covered entirely in armor. Scales were armor, of course, but on Cal they actually looked like it. His eyes were still amber, but rather than pale they flared bright gold with battle lust.
“A knight dragon,” someone nearby muttered, and Rick smirked in the dark.
“Impossible,” another replied. “They’re extinct.”
“Extinct? They’re legend. Not real. It must be some weird rock. Drugged up or something. Who owns that thing?”
Rick blocked the voices out and let the fight do the talking.
The rock dragon launched himself forward, immediately going for a full attack, and sharp eyes could see that something was driving it to a near panic – his movements weren’t as controlled as they’d been in previous fights.
It was scared of Cal.
With good reason. As the rock dragon reached him, Cal ducked to the side and whipped his tail – there was a resounding crack as it met the softer underbelly scales of the rock dragon, the sharp metallic-looking scales slicing open the vulnerable flesh.
Not deeply. The dragon would live. Cal wasn’t cruel – just efficient. Taking each dragon he had to fight well and truly out of the fight would mean fewer dragons to fight later when they tried to break out of here with the kit.
The talking increased in volume as the lights went up and the injured rock was carefully taken away.
Rick ignored the eyes he could feel on him, his own gaze solely for the shining dragon in the middle of the ring. “All the steak you want, Cal,” he murmured softly, smiling faintly at the way the Cal’s tail swished lazily back and forth across the arena floor.
All of this was far too easy for Cal. One of the thousands of reasons they’d never wasted their time with the Pits.
The noise reached a crescendo as men who prided themselves on their cool and aplomb scrambled to learn all they could of the unexpected new arrival. None of them could agree upon Cal’s species, and Rick would have started laughing again except he wanted to draw as little attention as necessary now.
Cal was a knight dragon. Also known as a steel dragon. There was no species better.
Not to say Cal was perfect, though Rick had a biased opinion of his own on that. All dragons had the same set of weaknesses – susceptibility to outside magic, that soft underbelly, the long neck could be a problem if dragons didn’t guard properly…there were others, and a few more that changed depending on the species.
Dragons fifteen, sixteen, and seventeen went as quickly as thirteen. Cal wasn’t even breaking a sweat. He swiveled his silver head up to face Rick, baring his teeth in what precious few would realize was a smile. Rick smiled back – then stilled as he saw number eighteen enter the ring.
Its scales looked like chips of ice, glistening wetly beneath the bright lights.
Glittering metal and shining ice. A pretty contrast, insofar as such violent-looking creatures could be pretty.
Rick shunted his amusement aside and sat up, discarding his beer to watch the arena. That was their kit, sure enough. Even from here he could see the clouds of frost pulsing from its mouth in time with its breathing.
He could also see Cal was thinking, pondering, communicating with the kit.
Then all hell broke loose as with an earth-shaking roar Cal dove straight through the special-made glass, shattering it like nothing, the kit bolting after him as they barreled their way right through an emergency exit.
Rick wasted no time, but turned and bolted for a different door, darting out of it right before someone finally thought to hit the main lights.
Not his style, but it was the best option – no one would have expected it, they hadn’t been here for anyone to grow suspicious. All they had to do was get the living hell out of dodge.
Avoiding the main ways, Rick tried the first ‘employees only’ door he saw and bolted down a dim-lit hall which spilled him into an offshoot of the kitchen. Ignoring the looks and cries, he ran for the back door and across the loading dock, around to the main parking lot and his bike – parked as close to the road as he’d been able to get it.
He didn’t waste time, just threw himself on it and started it up, roaring off before anyone could even think to check outside.
On the highway he allowed himself to breathe a bit, though not entirely relax. They wouldn’t be out of the woods for a long goddamned time now. He hoped Cal and the kit were all right. Anxiety was trying to get the better of him, urge him to go faster, but the very last thing he should do right now was increase his speed.
The drive was an hour long but it felt like fifty by the time he finally hit the winding road that led straight to the cabin. He stopped his bike in the open garage – Cal had beat him home then, thank god – mashed the button to close it, punched in the codes to trigger the security system laid out over the house and several acres of yard, then strode into the house, locking the door behind him.
He paused in the hallway, then heard noise upstairs. Bolting up the stairs, he strode immediately toward the bedroom – and finally allowed his tension to ease as Cal caught him up in the doorway with a consuming kiss, all their frustration and worry and anxiety blending together in it, the force of it bruising Rick’s lips before they both finally calmed. “Injuries?” he asked breathlessly.
“Minor scratches for me, the kit is okay.” Cal slowly let go of him and turned toward their bed.
Nevada was fifteen, Chris had said. He looked it – younger, in fact, exhaustion and maltreatment plain on his face and body though he lie unconscious.
“First time he’s changed back in weeks,” Cal murmured from behind Rick, settling his chin on Rick’s shoulder. “Poor thing’s been fighting every night, usually for rounds at a time. No wins.” He growled low, hands resting on Rick’s hips, gripping tightly, just short of bruising. “He’s just a kit. Why would they do this?”
“The question is who would do this.”
Cal growled more loudly this time, nearly snarling. “That’s what I mean. It was his parents that did it. They’re the Owners behind the shadow who fights him.”
Rick froze, shock running like ice water through his veins. “What?” he finally managed. “But—” he shook his head. “We need to call Chris.”
“The kit stays with us,” Cal said with another low growl. He let go of Rick to move back toward the bed, sitting beside the sleeping Nevada and bending over him, nuzzling and petting.
Something to which Rick would have taken offense if he hadn’t known full well Cal was merely caring for a kit. It was sort of cute, really. “Does this mean I’m sleeping on the couch?” he grumbled, but with a wink when Cal looked up.
Cal smiled back. “I’ll keep you warm.” He bent back down to stroke Nevada’s hair, nuzzle his cheek. In his sleep, free of inhibition and human habit, the dragon in Nevada curled closer to the soothing presence of an older dragon that smelled of comfort and caring. “He’ll feel safest here, sleep better.”
“I know,” Rick said. Cal’s scent was thick here, where they slept, loved. At lease he’d changed the sheets that morning with this in mind. “I’m glad we got him with such little fuss, all things considered.”
One last nuzzle and then Cal stood up, pulled the blankets up over the kit, then strode over to wrap himself around Rick, nuzzling his lover and Owner much as he had Nevada. “Do I get chocolate Ricky?”
“Yes, lizard,” Ricky said, rolling his eyes. “When this whole matter is resolved and done with you can have chocolate.”
“Chocolate Ricky.”
“I said yes!”
Cal chuckled and backed him into the hallway, leaving the lights on and the door open so the kit would feel less lost and more welcome to roam whenever he woke. “How did I do?”
“You were magnificent and perfect, lizard, and you know it.” Ricky let Cal press him up against the banister, opening his mouth to take the dragon’s eager kiss. “Behave.”
Stealing one last kiss, Cal finally backed away. His amber eyes were pale, but held a shine. “We did it.”
“We’ve started anyway,” Rick said, tangling hold of Cal’s hand and leading the way downstairs and into the blue and green kitchen. He pointed to the table and Cal obediently sat. “Now we have to figure out how to end it.” Opening the large fridge, he pulled out a beer and two large steaks. “I also need to figure out where in the middle of this damn mess I’m supposed to go grocery shopping.” He dropped the steaks in front of Cal, then twisted the cap off his beer and sat down, propping his feet on the chair opposite.
Cal dug into the steaks, tearing the meat into chunks that were quickly decimated by his sharp teeth. Both steaks were gone in minutes. “The kit should probably have softer stuff for a bit; he was forced to change right before they threw him in the ring.”
If Rick was capable of growling, he would have. Waking the dragon genes could be painful and was at the very least a fuck of a surprise – especially if Nevada hadn’t known he had dragon genes sleeping in his system. “Did the kit know?”
“No,” Cal said with the growl Rick felt. “We didn’t talk much before we got home and he passed out after I helped him change back…he said his mother and stepfather forced him into it. They…owe money. A lot of it. To a man high up the Pit chain. He persuaded them to put him in the rings.”
Rick swore, stomach souring. “We need to call Chris.” Setting his beer down, he went into the hall to fetch the cordless phone, snatched up the business card he’d left beside it and punched the number in as he walked back into the kitchen.
The line picked up on the second ring. “White Detective Agency. Chris speaking.”
“Chris. Ricky. We have the kit. Shit you need to know before you tell anyone.”
“I might already know it. Be there in a second.”
“Let me turn off the alarms.”
A soft laugh. “No alarm can sense me.” The phone went dead.
Cal snarled and stood up, whipping around to face the hallway.
“Neat trick,” Rick said shortly, stroking Cal’s hair soothingly. “Mind telling me how you did it? We’re rigged to block that kind of magic.”
Chris smirked – and suddenly Rick could see straight through him. “That’s a new one on me.”
Cal growled low but subsided beneath Rick’s petting.
“So you’re…part spook or something? What do you already know that I was going to tell you?”
Chris grimaced. “I’ve been putting all my efforts toward finding Nevada, which meant digging through what I could find on the Pits and all. With you helping, I finally was able to turn my attention to motive. I’m finding some interesting shit on the kid’s parents. Specifically, his mother and stepfather. Father dies years ago – I think it’s that side of the family that carried the dragon genes.”
“Yeah,” Rick said, still petting Cal, who’d resumed growling softly. “Cal managed to speak to him a bit before the kit passed out. “The parents are behind it.”
“I wasn’t yet sure if it was one or both. The mother looked suitably distraught, very good actress, the bitch.” Chris scrubbed a hand through his hair. “That would explain all the trouble I went through with my client.”
Rick tilted his head. “Who was the client?”
“Kennedy Montserrat, Nevada’s stepbrother. He sent me a note via a servant in the household, asked me to meet him in the backroom of a store he goes to often. Told me it was important no one knew I’d been hired – he was terrified, pale as a goddamned ghost and I should know, that they’d kill Nev. I don’t think he knows his parents did it; he would have told me. Whatever their folks are up to or into, the brothers are tight and not part of it – until Nev was kidnapped.”
Cal looked up at Rick and the two exchanged a look. “Tight, you say?”
“Yeah,” Chris said. “The poor kid was all but in tears when he was hiring me; you could see it was taking everything he had to act like an adult and not fall apart.” He shrugged. “There’s a bond; I’m guessing from your expressions it’s a dragon thing.”
Rick gave a shrug of his own. “Maybe, but not necessarily. Cal said the kit didn’t know he was a dragon, which is going to be hard on him in a lot of ways. If he’s already formed a bond, albeit unwittingly…then we can train the Owner while we train the dragon. That would make life easier for both of them, if they’re as close as you say.”
Chris shook his head. “Most of what you’re saying doesn’t make sense to me. Dragons are something I’ve never dealt with before. I’ve learned a bit doing this – enough to know I’m glad they’re not a frequent problem.”
“Be very grateful,” Rick said, his laughter mingling with Cal’s. “Bonding…dragons are possessive of their lovers – who should be their Owners but aren’t always. And lover doesn’t mean mate in the breeding sense – that’s entirely separate.” He ruffled Cal’s hair, the dragon turning his head and nipping Rick’s stomach in retaliation. “Cal has three kits being raised by their mother back home, which is how it’s done traditionally. Not like…everywhere else.” Rick shrugged again. “Everywhere else they’re raised as humans, and injected with the appropriate triggers to change one way or the other. That’s rough…even rougher on a kit like Nevada, who didn’t know what was going to happen to him, only to be thrown immediately into the Pits. They probably kept him scared and frightened…if what you say about this stepbrother is true, it’s possible they threatened to hurt him if Nevada didn’t fight. We’ll learn more when the kit wakes.”
“You keep calling him a kit.”
“Term for young dragons. Habit. Where we were raised, dragons are still mostly dragon which means they’re properly raised. People often forget that dragons have just been bred to transform into humans – it’s not much different from treating a werewolf or a demon like a human just because they look like’em most of the time.”
Chris grunted. “You don’t need to tell me that, trust me. My staff includes a witch, a werewolf, a vampire, and an imp – free and mature. Never mind I’m a consort.”
Rick grinned. “I guess I’m instructing the wrong person.”
“Just maybe,” Chris said, rolling his eyes. “So the parents are definitely behind this, then. Great. What the hell do I do with the kid? Kit.”
“We’re keeping him,” Cal replied with a barely-suppressed growl. “Bring his Owner.” His arms wrapped tight around Rick’s waist, an obvious attempt to still the restless, angry energy that was all but pouring off him.
Chris lifted a brow.
Rick soothed Cal gently, petting his hair and rubbing along his back. “Like I said, he was bred a few years ago. The fathers have practically nothing to do with raising the kits – that’s left to the mothers and their Owners. All dragons have protective instincts, though, when it’s not beat out of them with everything else in the Pits. Especially those who have already had kits. Cal’s…adopted him, more or less.”
“I’ll bring Kenny. I have to tell him Nevada’s been rescued, he’ll want to see him.” Suddenly he looked tired, raking a hand through his hair again. “Fuck, how do you tell a kid his parents are fucking assholes? I’ll be back in, oh, half an hour or so. Fuck, what a night.”
Cal nuzzled the stomach he’d recently been nipping. “It’s okay we keep the kit?”
“As if you’d give me a choice, lover,” Rick said fondly, burying his hands in Cal’s thick hair and tilting his head up to lean down and take a long, lingering kiss. “Of course it’s okay. I’m sure we old people could use the, uh, excitement a couple of teenagers always bring.” He made a face, but smiled. “Especially a traumatized kit and what will no doubt be an equally distraught young Owner. At least we won’t be bored…” He smirked. “Though it also means you’ll have to wait a long time for your chocolate. The last thing that kit is going to need is to smell you all hot and bothered.”
Growling low, Cal pulled his head free of Rick’s hands and again nipped his stomach, shifting around in his seat so that he could pull Rick between his thigh, hands trailing up Rick’s thighs to his ass, gripping it tight as he tugged Rick even closer. He tugged Rick’s t-shirt out of his jeans, shoving it up to get his teeth against bare skin.
Rick shivered but resisted letting the teasing get more heated. “Half an hour, Cal, before they’re back. The kit’s going to be hungry when he wakes up.”
Cal lapped at the marks he’d left, soothing the red indentions that would shortly turn to bruises. Owning a dragon meant he hadn’t been free of bruises practically from the day they’d met – definitely from the day they’d become lovers.
Leaning down, Rick took a last deep, hard kiss, letting Cal go only when oxygen became a requirement. Ever pushy and teasing, Cal bit down on his lower lip as Rick pulled away, leaving a sting that bled slightly.
“Behave,” Rick said firmly. He licked blood from his lip. “You taste like dead cow.”
Cal wrinkled his nose. “So romantic.”
“Eat roses instead of dead cow and maybe I will be,” Rick said with a laugh, then moved away to retrieve his beer. “Though speaking of food, I should probably eat something. I doubt there’s going to be much in the way of sleep tonight…”
He could feel Cal’s eyes on him as he set about making a sandwich – turkey with all the fixings. Lots of mustard.
“Yech,” Cal said. “You put the mustard there on purpose.”
Rick snorted. “Yeah, so a certain dumb lizard doesn’t steal my eats. If you’re still that hungry, have a snack – a small one!”
“The only snack I want is you. I was good. I should get a Ricky.”
“Shut up, lizard,” Rick said, biting into his sandwich to hide a smile.
Cal stuck his tongue out, but conceded defeat by going to the fridge and pulling out a small container filled with ground beef.
“Try eating vegetables, you dumb lizard. Dragons do not survive on meat alone.”
“No,” Cal said, defiantly eating a chunk of ground beef.
Rick rolled his eyes, but the familiar argument was waylaid as the sounds of a snarling dragon just barely reached their ears.
Cal immediately dropped his food, his own snarl filling the house.
“Calm down!” Rick snapped. He strode to the security control panel and deactivated it. “Come on, let’s get this over with. I was really hoping they’d fall off coming up the road…” Sighing, he gave his sandwich and beer a longing look then led the way to the front door. Unlocking the deadbolt, he stepped back to allow Cal to precede him out. “Behave,” he warned.
A growling acknowledgement was Cal’s only reply as he shifted smoothly from human to dragon. His scales shone in the moonlight as he prowled out into the front yard and tensed for attack. Rick stopped a couple of feet behind him.
Slowly their guests appeared over the last rise, moving quickly now that Rick’s security system was no longer an impediment. They stopped a dozen feet or so away.
Three red dragons, two black. Only four Owners, so two of the dragons must be siblings not inclined toward being split up.
“Tank, go the hell home. What the fuck are you doing here?” Rick asked, stifling a sigh. “I didn’t even know you’d gotten a dragon.”
Tank motioned to one of the blacks. “Been holding him back until I could put him straight into Master. He’s a fine beast.” His eyes strayed to Cal. “Nothing like yours though.” In front of him, the black dragon growled.
Rick wondered sadly if Tank even noticed the hurt tone to it. Dragons were possessive of their Owners, even when the choice of Owner was taken from them and ‘lover’ wasn’t part of the equation. The very least Tank could do was show a bit of loyalty back.
Pit Owners never cared though. If they did, they wouldn’t Pit their dragons.
“Keep your eyes off my dragon and stop hurting yours,” Rick said sharply, knowing it was useless but unable not to help a dragon right in front of him. “I’d prefer you just get the hell off my property and stay off it, but I doubt I’ll be that lucky.”
“Steel dragons are extinct,” another Owner said, a light-haired older man Rick didn’t recognize. Of the four, Tank was the only one he did recognize. “How do you have an extinct dragon?”
Rick snorted. “Obviously they’re not extinct. How I have one is none of your goddamn business.” Never mind he and Cal were forbidden to talk about it. Even the small bit he’d told Chris about Cal being properly raised was pushing it. “Get the hell out of here before you find out why he’s not extinct.”
“Yeah, we all saw what he did. The dragons aside, that glass was made with crushed dragon scale – he shouldn’t have been able to break it.”
He was losing patience. “Did you girls come here to gossip about my dragon or to pick a fight? Either way, I’ll thank you to go the fuck away already. I would like to finish my dinner and go to bed.”
One of the Owners sneered, a brown-haired man who looked like he spent his winnings paying off food bills. “Yeah, we all saw what you keep in your bed.”
Cal bared his teeth and growled, causing the other dragons to tense even further. They sensed a real threat, and they wouldn’t be used to fighting outside of the Pits and all their training.
“That’s none of your business,” Rick said, wanting badly to roll his eyes.
Tank shot the other Owners a warning look. “Look, we’re just here to take back the frost. Boss’s orders. Says it belongs to him until further notice.”
“You can tell your boss to kiss my goddamn ass. The kit is ours now, and if he ever tries to make an underage Pit fight again, I’ll show him just how nasty a knight dragon can be. Understand me? Get the fuck off my property before you get a taste of that nastiness yourself.” Cal’s growl backed up the words.
“Underage?” Tank repeated “What in the fuck are you talking about?”
Rick just looked at him. “Go to hell. How the fuck could you possibly miss that kit is too goddamn young to be fighting? Are you stupid or just blind? He’s barely twelve feet nose to tail, his scales are still hardening – I could see that at a goddamn distance – and he has way too much power for an older dragon.”
“You didn’t see him fight,” an Owner pointed out.
“But you did!” Rick snarled. “All of you. He’s a goddamn kit. Barely fifteen. We’re keeping him. If it’s money your boss wants, tell him to let me know how much.”
“You couldn’t pay it.”
Rick sneered. “Get off my land. Tell your boss to kiss my ass.”
“You’re awfully high and mighty,” the last Owner said. A flick of his fingers, a muttered hiss of sound, and the second black dragon leapt forward.
“Fool,” Rick said with a soft sigh.
Cal dodged the black’s graceful leap, then sprang suddenly forward while the black was still landing, sinking his teeth into its throat, not quite hard enough to draw blood, then reared up as he pivoted to throw the black into two reds as they sprang forward to join the fight.
The last red bounded over the disjointed pile of the other three, scorching breath flaring out. Rick recoiled from the heat of the blast, but short of turning his head to protect his face, Cal gave no indication of being anything more than vaguely amused as he walked toward the red that was now retreating.
Dragons like this had never fought a knight dragon.
They were as perfect as dragons could be – it was from them the other breeds had been created, the different abilities separated out by careful, selective breeding and refined slowly over the years to create the elemental breeds now known. The High Elements were actually truer, the basic elements only watered down versions of them.
Ironic that blacks were now so highly prized, when once they’d only been the starting point to fully separating out the different elements.
The idiots didn’t stand a chance – it was like pitting housecats against a wild cat. Except these poor dragons could only do what their Owners said.
“Cal, knock them out. I want this over with.”
Growling a low acknowledgement, Cal went from defensive to offensive, quickly knocking out all four dragons. In the middle of the fallen dragons, his scales gleamed with startling brightness in the moonlight, except where fire had blackened them. Nothing a cleaning wouldn’t fix.
“How is that possible?” Tank asked.
“If you’re any sort of owner,” Rick said curtly, “you know the legends.”
“They’re legends, Cross.”
Rick did roll his eyes that time. “Yes, Cal is a legend. A legend just took out four dragons in a matter of minutes. Christ, where the hell do they dig you people up?” He reached out to stroke Cal’s smooth, slick scales as the dragon sat down beside him.
Tank’s reply was cut off as two figures suddenly appeared at the edge of the yard.
Chris frowned. “I thought I felt something.” He narrowed his eyes at Tank and the others. “What are you doing here, besides the obvious?”
“Who the fuck are you?” Tank demanded.
“Chris White,” Chris replied, striding toward them. “I was hired to find a kidnapped frost dragon. If you’re here to take him, you can go the hell away.”
The owner of the black Cal had thrown stepped forward. “If we’re not listening to him,” he pointed to Rick, “then we’re certainly not listening to you. Ain’t your yard.”
In reply, Chris merely threw his head back and laughed, the sound echoing out across the mountains around them. Then he abruptly stopped, and lifted his right hand. A ring glittered there, the diamond set in it remarkable in size and brilliance.
“Oh, fuck,” Tank hissed. “You’re that detective.”
“That’s right,” Chris said. “I know something a lot worse than a shiny dragon so go the fuck away.”
Tank nodded. “We’re leaving.”
“What!”
“Shut it,” Tank snarled. “Dragons I deal with.” He looked at Chris, then hastily looked away. “Demons I don’t. We’re out. I’ll…give the boss your message, Cross.”
“Do that.” He watched them until they were out of sight, and didn’t relax until Cal shifted back to human. “What a night.” He didn’t protest as Cal wrapped an arm around him, wrapping his own around Cal’s waist in a loose embrace. He glanced at Chris. “I prefer to handle my own fights…”
Chris grimaced. “I don’t like flashing my power, but my client is more important.” He turned and motioned the other man for – a boy, really. Fifteen, maybe sixteen, with the sort of pale blonde hair that kids usually outgrew. A light tan, brown eyes wide with confusion, no doubt some fear, red from where he’d clearly been crying. Gangly, awkward, as they always were at that age. Eventually, though, he’d be a handsome young man. Ideally, one with a dragon at his side.
“Let’s get inside,” Rick said, and ushered everyone into the house and to the living room.
“Where’s Nev?” the kid asked anxiously. “Is he okay? Hurt? Chris said he was a dragon…” He looked anxiously around, hands clenching and unclenching. “Uh. Thank you for saving him. Is he okay?”
Rick chuckled softly. “He’s upstairs, kid. Last room down the hall. Go ahead – but don’t wake him. He’ll like your closeness, but he needs rest.”
“Okay,” the kid called over his shoulder as he bolted.
Cal rumbled in amusement and nuzzled Rick’s cheek. “He acts like you that time I fell into the canyon.”
“Definitely an Owner, I’d say. Poor kids, stuck with each other at so young an age.” He laughed as Cal nipped his throat. “Behave!”
Chris looked at them. “So you’re keeping them both?”
“Yeah,” Rick replied. “We’ll take care of them. Raise them the way dragons and Owners should be raised. What are we going to do about the parents?”
Blue eyes gleamed, and the look on Chris’s face reminded Rick forcibly, and perhaps made it truly clear for the first time, that this man was the consort of a demon lord. “I’ll take care of them. I should destroy the Pit. All of them. I wish it was worth the effort.”
“They’d just build a new one somewhere else; at least here they’ll be careful now not to ever draw your attention again. I’ve never seen Tank go pale before; that was goddamn funny.”
Chris smiled briefly. “Tell the kid his payment is to keep his ass here for however long you deem necessary. And speaking of payment, what would you like in return for helping me?”
“We’ve got all we need,” Rick said, smiling faintly. “Isn’t that right, Cal?”
The dragon muttered something against his neck, too low for Chris to catch. Rick laughed softly at his confusion. “He said ‘Camelot.’
Chris only looked more confused.
“There’s an old legend about dragons, I don’t know if you’ve heard it…”
“No. Facts are what interest me. I have no patience for legends.” Chris made a face. “Even if some would count me one.”
Rick chuckled. “Yeah, I guess you would be. But the legend about dragons…they say there once was a man who was destined to be king. To help in that pursuit, a priestess created for him a weapon mightier than any other, so grand and fine that it had no equal.” He stroked Cal’s cheek as the dragon lifted his head to, their eyes locked. “The weapons responded only to the rightful king, obeyed only his will and commands.”
“A dragon,” Chris said.
“Yes. With scales the color of polished steel, so powerful it was nearly invincible. Its descendants were the same, dragons of unequal power who obeyed only those who carried the blood of the great king.”
Chris shook his head. “An interesting legend. So this is your Camelot?”
“Yeah,” Rick said. “It’s not much, but it’s all we want. If you insist on paying us, though – you can get someone to go grocery shopping for me. I don’t want to go far from the house until those two are firmly settled.”
“Done,” Chris said. “Thanks for everything.”
“We were happy to help.”
With a last nod and wave, Chris vanished.
Rick groaned and stripped out of his jacket, then kicked off his shoes before stretching out on the long, suede couch. Cal settled out along his side, sharp nails raking lightly up and down his chest in a rough, idle caress. “It’s quiet up there.”
“Sleeping,” Cal replied with a yawn of his own.
“Better catch some Z’s of our own then. Tomorrow is going to be a hell of a goddamn day, and that only the beginning.”
Cal leaned up to kiss him, soft and sweet. “They’re cute though. Love you.”
“They are,” Rick agreed. He curled his arms around Cal and closed his eyes, settling back against the couch. “Though not cute enough they’re keeping my bed. Love you too.”
All around him people whispered and muttered, astonished to see that Cal was still in his human form as the start signal rang out.
The dark gray rock dragon threw itself at him – Cal dodged neatly away and dropped to all fours as he changed. Freely. At will. No injection necessary at all.
Whispers turned to gasps, mutters to startled cries as all saw the dragon that gleamed in the light.
Dragons weren’t the huge beasts myth and legend took them for. They weren’t small either, but somewhere between a small pony and large dog. From nose to tip of tail dragons averaged anywhere from twelve to sixteen feet. So far as their feet went – again more in common with cats. Padding, retractable claws. They had the sinuous, lethal grace of a wild cat combined the ominous presence of a crocodile, with an extended neck ending in a triangular head full of teeth meant for tearing flesh from bone. Those unused to the sight of a real dragon often thought them some sort of monster rather than the popular creatures from legends.
Beasts meant for fighting weren’t ever going to look pretty. He still thought Cal beautiful, as stunning as the first day they’d met. Instead of green, red, black, or any of the other usual colors – Cal’s scales glistened like polished steel, as though the dragon were covered entirely in armor. Scales were armor, of course, but on Cal they actually looked like it. His eyes were still amber, but rather than pale they flared bright gold with battle lust.
“A knight dragon,” someone nearby muttered, and Rick smirked in the dark.
“Impossible,” another replied. “They’re extinct.”
“Extinct? They’re legend. Not real. It must be some weird rock. Drugged up or something. Who owns that thing?”
Rick blocked the voices out and let the fight do the talking.
The rock dragon launched himself forward, immediately going for a full attack, and sharp eyes could see that something was driving it to a near panic – his movements weren’t as controlled as they’d been in previous fights.
It was scared of Cal.
With good reason. As the rock dragon reached him, Cal ducked to the side and whipped his tail – there was a resounding crack as it met the softer underbelly scales of the rock dragon, the sharp metallic-looking scales slicing open the vulnerable flesh.
Not deeply. The dragon would live. Cal wasn’t cruel – just efficient. Taking each dragon he had to fight well and truly out of the fight would mean fewer dragons to fight later when they tried to break out of here with the kit.
The talking increased in volume as the lights went up and the injured rock was carefully taken away.
Rick ignored the eyes he could feel on him, his own gaze solely for the shining dragon in the middle of the ring. “All the steak you want, Cal,” he murmured softly, smiling faintly at the way the Cal’s tail swished lazily back and forth across the arena floor.
All of this was far too easy for Cal. One of the thousands of reasons they’d never wasted their time with the Pits.
The noise reached a crescendo as men who prided themselves on their cool and aplomb scrambled to learn all they could of the unexpected new arrival. None of them could agree upon Cal’s species, and Rick would have started laughing again except he wanted to draw as little attention as necessary now.
Cal was a knight dragon. Also known as a steel dragon. There was no species better.
Not to say Cal was perfect, though Rick had a biased opinion of his own on that. All dragons had the same set of weaknesses – susceptibility to outside magic, that soft underbelly, the long neck could be a problem if dragons didn’t guard properly…there were others, and a few more that changed depending on the species.
Dragons fifteen, sixteen, and seventeen went as quickly as thirteen. Cal wasn’t even breaking a sweat. He swiveled his silver head up to face Rick, baring his teeth in what precious few would realize was a smile. Rick smiled back – then stilled as he saw number eighteen enter the ring.
Its scales looked like chips of ice, glistening wetly beneath the bright lights.
Glittering metal and shining ice. A pretty contrast, insofar as such violent-looking creatures could be pretty.
Rick shunted his amusement aside and sat up, discarding his beer to watch the arena. That was their kit, sure enough. Even from here he could see the clouds of frost pulsing from its mouth in time with its breathing.
He could also see Cal was thinking, pondering, communicating with the kit.
Then all hell broke loose as with an earth-shaking roar Cal dove straight through the special-made glass, shattering it like nothing, the kit bolting after him as they barreled their way right through an emergency exit.
Rick wasted no time, but turned and bolted for a different door, darting out of it right before someone finally thought to hit the main lights.
Not his style, but it was the best option – no one would have expected it, they hadn’t been here for anyone to grow suspicious. All they had to do was get the living hell out of dodge.
Avoiding the main ways, Rick tried the first ‘employees only’ door he saw and bolted down a dim-lit hall which spilled him into an offshoot of the kitchen. Ignoring the looks and cries, he ran for the back door and across the loading dock, around to the main parking lot and his bike – parked as close to the road as he’d been able to get it.
He didn’t waste time, just threw himself on it and started it up, roaring off before anyone could even think to check outside.
On the highway he allowed himself to breathe a bit, though not entirely relax. They wouldn’t be out of the woods for a long goddamned time now. He hoped Cal and the kit were all right. Anxiety was trying to get the better of him, urge him to go faster, but the very last thing he should do right now was increase his speed.
The drive was an hour long but it felt like fifty by the time he finally hit the winding road that led straight to the cabin. He stopped his bike in the open garage – Cal had beat him home then, thank god – mashed the button to close it, punched in the codes to trigger the security system laid out over the house and several acres of yard, then strode into the house, locking the door behind him.
He paused in the hallway, then heard noise upstairs. Bolting up the stairs, he strode immediately toward the bedroom – and finally allowed his tension to ease as Cal caught him up in the doorway with a consuming kiss, all their frustration and worry and anxiety blending together in it, the force of it bruising Rick’s lips before they both finally calmed. “Injuries?” he asked breathlessly.
“Minor scratches for me, the kit is okay.” Cal slowly let go of him and turned toward their bed.
Nevada was fifteen, Chris had said. He looked it – younger, in fact, exhaustion and maltreatment plain on his face and body though he lie unconscious.
“First time he’s changed back in weeks,” Cal murmured from behind Rick, settling his chin on Rick’s shoulder. “Poor thing’s been fighting every night, usually for rounds at a time. No wins.” He growled low, hands resting on Rick’s hips, gripping tightly, just short of bruising. “He’s just a kit. Why would they do this?”
“The question is who would do this.”
Cal growled more loudly this time, nearly snarling. “That’s what I mean. It was his parents that did it. They’re the Owners behind the shadow who fights him.”
Rick froze, shock running like ice water through his veins. “What?” he finally managed. “But—” he shook his head. “We need to call Chris.”
“The kit stays with us,” Cal said with another low growl. He let go of Rick to move back toward the bed, sitting beside the sleeping Nevada and bending over him, nuzzling and petting.
Something to which Rick would have taken offense if he hadn’t known full well Cal was merely caring for a kit. It was sort of cute, really. “Does this mean I’m sleeping on the couch?” he grumbled, but with a wink when Cal looked up.
Cal smiled back. “I’ll keep you warm.” He bent back down to stroke Nevada’s hair, nuzzle his cheek. In his sleep, free of inhibition and human habit, the dragon in Nevada curled closer to the soothing presence of an older dragon that smelled of comfort and caring. “He’ll feel safest here, sleep better.”
“I know,” Rick said. Cal’s scent was thick here, where they slept, loved. At lease he’d changed the sheets that morning with this in mind. “I’m glad we got him with such little fuss, all things considered.”
One last nuzzle and then Cal stood up, pulled the blankets up over the kit, then strode over to wrap himself around Rick, nuzzling his lover and Owner much as he had Nevada. “Do I get chocolate Ricky?”
“Yes, lizard,” Ricky said, rolling his eyes. “When this whole matter is resolved and done with you can have chocolate.”
“Chocolate Ricky.”
“I said yes!”
Cal chuckled and backed him into the hallway, leaving the lights on and the door open so the kit would feel less lost and more welcome to roam whenever he woke. “How did I do?”
“You were magnificent and perfect, lizard, and you know it.” Ricky let Cal press him up against the banister, opening his mouth to take the dragon’s eager kiss. “Behave.”
Stealing one last kiss, Cal finally backed away. His amber eyes were pale, but held a shine. “We did it.”
“We’ve started anyway,” Rick said, tangling hold of Cal’s hand and leading the way downstairs and into the blue and green kitchen. He pointed to the table and Cal obediently sat. “Now we have to figure out how to end it.” Opening the large fridge, he pulled out a beer and two large steaks. “I also need to figure out where in the middle of this damn mess I’m supposed to go grocery shopping.” He dropped the steaks in front of Cal, then twisted the cap off his beer and sat down, propping his feet on the chair opposite.
Cal dug into the steaks, tearing the meat into chunks that were quickly decimated by his sharp teeth. Both steaks were gone in minutes. “The kit should probably have softer stuff for a bit; he was forced to change right before they threw him in the ring.”
If Rick was capable of growling, he would have. Waking the dragon genes could be painful and was at the very least a fuck of a surprise – especially if Nevada hadn’t known he had dragon genes sleeping in his system. “Did the kit know?”
“No,” Cal said with the growl Rick felt. “We didn’t talk much before we got home and he passed out after I helped him change back…he said his mother and stepfather forced him into it. They…owe money. A lot of it. To a man high up the Pit chain. He persuaded them to put him in the rings.”
Rick swore, stomach souring. “We need to call Chris.” Setting his beer down, he went into the hall to fetch the cordless phone, snatched up the business card he’d left beside it and punched the number in as he walked back into the kitchen.
The line picked up on the second ring. “White Detective Agency. Chris speaking.”
“Chris. Ricky. We have the kit. Shit you need to know before you tell anyone.”
“I might already know it. Be there in a second.”
“Let me turn off the alarms.”
A soft laugh. “No alarm can sense me.” The phone went dead.
Cal snarled and stood up, whipping around to face the hallway.
“Neat trick,” Rick said shortly, stroking Cal’s hair soothingly. “Mind telling me how you did it? We’re rigged to block that kind of magic.”
Chris smirked – and suddenly Rick could see straight through him. “That’s a new one on me.”
Cal growled low but subsided beneath Rick’s petting.
“So you’re…part spook or something? What do you already know that I was going to tell you?”
Chris grimaced. “I’ve been putting all my efforts toward finding Nevada, which meant digging through what I could find on the Pits and all. With you helping, I finally was able to turn my attention to motive. I’m finding some interesting shit on the kid’s parents. Specifically, his mother and stepfather. Father dies years ago – I think it’s that side of the family that carried the dragon genes.”
“Yeah,” Rick said, still petting Cal, who’d resumed growling softly. “Cal managed to speak to him a bit before the kit passed out. “The parents are behind it.”
“I wasn’t yet sure if it was one or both. The mother looked suitably distraught, very good actress, the bitch.” Chris scrubbed a hand through his hair. “That would explain all the trouble I went through with my client.”
Rick tilted his head. “Who was the client?”
“Kennedy Montserrat, Nevada’s stepbrother. He sent me a note via a servant in the household, asked me to meet him in the backroom of a store he goes to often. Told me it was important no one knew I’d been hired – he was terrified, pale as a goddamned ghost and I should know, that they’d kill Nev. I don’t think he knows his parents did it; he would have told me. Whatever their folks are up to or into, the brothers are tight and not part of it – until Nev was kidnapped.”
Cal looked up at Rick and the two exchanged a look. “Tight, you say?”
“Yeah,” Chris said. “The poor kid was all but in tears when he was hiring me; you could see it was taking everything he had to act like an adult and not fall apart.” He shrugged. “There’s a bond; I’m guessing from your expressions it’s a dragon thing.”
Rick gave a shrug of his own. “Maybe, but not necessarily. Cal said the kit didn’t know he was a dragon, which is going to be hard on him in a lot of ways. If he’s already formed a bond, albeit unwittingly…then we can train the Owner while we train the dragon. That would make life easier for both of them, if they’re as close as you say.”
Chris shook his head. “Most of what you’re saying doesn’t make sense to me. Dragons are something I’ve never dealt with before. I’ve learned a bit doing this – enough to know I’m glad they’re not a frequent problem.”
“Be very grateful,” Rick said, his laughter mingling with Cal’s. “Bonding…dragons are possessive of their lovers – who should be their Owners but aren’t always. And lover doesn’t mean mate in the breeding sense – that’s entirely separate.” He ruffled Cal’s hair, the dragon turning his head and nipping Rick’s stomach in retaliation. “Cal has three kits being raised by their mother back home, which is how it’s done traditionally. Not like…everywhere else.” Rick shrugged again. “Everywhere else they’re raised as humans, and injected with the appropriate triggers to change one way or the other. That’s rough…even rougher on a kit like Nevada, who didn’t know what was going to happen to him, only to be thrown immediately into the Pits. They probably kept him scared and frightened…if what you say about this stepbrother is true, it’s possible they threatened to hurt him if Nevada didn’t fight. We’ll learn more when the kit wakes.”
“You keep calling him a kit.”
“Term for young dragons. Habit. Where we were raised, dragons are still mostly dragon which means they’re properly raised. People often forget that dragons have just been bred to transform into humans – it’s not much different from treating a werewolf or a demon like a human just because they look like’em most of the time.”
Chris grunted. “You don’t need to tell me that, trust me. My staff includes a witch, a werewolf, a vampire, and an imp – free and mature. Never mind I’m a consort.”
Rick grinned. “I guess I’m instructing the wrong person.”
“Just maybe,” Chris said, rolling his eyes. “So the parents are definitely behind this, then. Great. What the hell do I do with the kid? Kit.”
“We’re keeping him,” Cal replied with a barely-suppressed growl. “Bring his Owner.” His arms wrapped tight around Rick’s waist, an obvious attempt to still the restless, angry energy that was all but pouring off him.
Chris lifted a brow.
Rick soothed Cal gently, petting his hair and rubbing along his back. “Like I said, he was bred a few years ago. The fathers have practically nothing to do with raising the kits – that’s left to the mothers and their Owners. All dragons have protective instincts, though, when it’s not beat out of them with everything else in the Pits. Especially those who have already had kits. Cal’s…adopted him, more or less.”
“I’ll bring Kenny. I have to tell him Nevada’s been rescued, he’ll want to see him.” Suddenly he looked tired, raking a hand through his hair again. “Fuck, how do you tell a kid his parents are fucking assholes? I’ll be back in, oh, half an hour or so. Fuck, what a night.”
Cal nuzzled the stomach he’d recently been nipping. “It’s okay we keep the kit?”
“As if you’d give me a choice, lover,” Rick said fondly, burying his hands in Cal’s thick hair and tilting his head up to lean down and take a long, lingering kiss. “Of course it’s okay. I’m sure we old people could use the, uh, excitement a couple of teenagers always bring.” He made a face, but smiled. “Especially a traumatized kit and what will no doubt be an equally distraught young Owner. At least we won’t be bored…” He smirked. “Though it also means you’ll have to wait a long time for your chocolate. The last thing that kit is going to need is to smell you all hot and bothered.”
Growling low, Cal pulled his head free of Rick’s hands and again nipped his stomach, shifting around in his seat so that he could pull Rick between his thigh, hands trailing up Rick’s thighs to his ass, gripping it tight as he tugged Rick even closer. He tugged Rick’s t-shirt out of his jeans, shoving it up to get his teeth against bare skin.
Rick shivered but resisted letting the teasing get more heated. “Half an hour, Cal, before they’re back. The kit’s going to be hungry when he wakes up.”
Cal lapped at the marks he’d left, soothing the red indentions that would shortly turn to bruises. Owning a dragon meant he hadn’t been free of bruises practically from the day they’d met – definitely from the day they’d become lovers.
Leaning down, Rick took a last deep, hard kiss, letting Cal go only when oxygen became a requirement. Ever pushy and teasing, Cal bit down on his lower lip as Rick pulled away, leaving a sting that bled slightly.
“Behave,” Rick said firmly. He licked blood from his lip. “You taste like dead cow.”
Cal wrinkled his nose. “So romantic.”
“Eat roses instead of dead cow and maybe I will be,” Rick said with a laugh, then moved away to retrieve his beer. “Though speaking of food, I should probably eat something. I doubt there’s going to be much in the way of sleep tonight…”
He could feel Cal’s eyes on him as he set about making a sandwich – turkey with all the fixings. Lots of mustard.
“Yech,” Cal said. “You put the mustard there on purpose.”
Rick snorted. “Yeah, so a certain dumb lizard doesn’t steal my eats. If you’re still that hungry, have a snack – a small one!”
“The only snack I want is you. I was good. I should get a Ricky.”
“Shut up, lizard,” Rick said, biting into his sandwich to hide a smile.
Cal stuck his tongue out, but conceded defeat by going to the fridge and pulling out a small container filled with ground beef.
“Try eating vegetables, you dumb lizard. Dragons do not survive on meat alone.”
“No,” Cal said, defiantly eating a chunk of ground beef.
Rick rolled his eyes, but the familiar argument was waylaid as the sounds of a snarling dragon just barely reached their ears.
Cal immediately dropped his food, his own snarl filling the house.
“Calm down!” Rick snapped. He strode to the security control panel and deactivated it. “Come on, let’s get this over with. I was really hoping they’d fall off coming up the road…” Sighing, he gave his sandwich and beer a longing look then led the way to the front door. Unlocking the deadbolt, he stepped back to allow Cal to precede him out. “Behave,” he warned.
A growling acknowledgement was Cal’s only reply as he shifted smoothly from human to dragon. His scales shone in the moonlight as he prowled out into the front yard and tensed for attack. Rick stopped a couple of feet behind him.
Slowly their guests appeared over the last rise, moving quickly now that Rick’s security system was no longer an impediment. They stopped a dozen feet or so away.
Three red dragons, two black. Only four Owners, so two of the dragons must be siblings not inclined toward being split up.
“Tank, go the hell home. What the fuck are you doing here?” Rick asked, stifling a sigh. “I didn’t even know you’d gotten a dragon.”
Tank motioned to one of the blacks. “Been holding him back until I could put him straight into Master. He’s a fine beast.” His eyes strayed to Cal. “Nothing like yours though.” In front of him, the black dragon growled.
Rick wondered sadly if Tank even noticed the hurt tone to it. Dragons were possessive of their Owners, even when the choice of Owner was taken from them and ‘lover’ wasn’t part of the equation. The very least Tank could do was show a bit of loyalty back.
Pit Owners never cared though. If they did, they wouldn’t Pit their dragons.
“Keep your eyes off my dragon and stop hurting yours,” Rick said sharply, knowing it was useless but unable not to help a dragon right in front of him. “I’d prefer you just get the hell off my property and stay off it, but I doubt I’ll be that lucky.”
“Steel dragons are extinct,” another Owner said, a light-haired older man Rick didn’t recognize. Of the four, Tank was the only one he did recognize. “How do you have an extinct dragon?”
Rick snorted. “Obviously they’re not extinct. How I have one is none of your goddamn business.” Never mind he and Cal were forbidden to talk about it. Even the small bit he’d told Chris about Cal being properly raised was pushing it. “Get the hell out of here before you find out why he’s not extinct.”
“Yeah, we all saw what he did. The dragons aside, that glass was made with crushed dragon scale – he shouldn’t have been able to break it.”
He was losing patience. “Did you girls come here to gossip about my dragon or to pick a fight? Either way, I’ll thank you to go the fuck away already. I would like to finish my dinner and go to bed.”
One of the Owners sneered, a brown-haired man who looked like he spent his winnings paying off food bills. “Yeah, we all saw what you keep in your bed.”
Cal bared his teeth and growled, causing the other dragons to tense even further. They sensed a real threat, and they wouldn’t be used to fighting outside of the Pits and all their training.
“That’s none of your business,” Rick said, wanting badly to roll his eyes.
Tank shot the other Owners a warning look. “Look, we’re just here to take back the frost. Boss’s orders. Says it belongs to him until further notice.”
“You can tell your boss to kiss my goddamn ass. The kit is ours now, and if he ever tries to make an underage Pit fight again, I’ll show him just how nasty a knight dragon can be. Understand me? Get the fuck off my property before you get a taste of that nastiness yourself.” Cal’s growl backed up the words.
“Underage?” Tank repeated “What in the fuck are you talking about?”
Rick just looked at him. “Go to hell. How the fuck could you possibly miss that kit is too goddamn young to be fighting? Are you stupid or just blind? He’s barely twelve feet nose to tail, his scales are still hardening – I could see that at a goddamn distance – and he has way too much power for an older dragon.”
“You didn’t see him fight,” an Owner pointed out.
“But you did!” Rick snarled. “All of you. He’s a goddamn kit. Barely fifteen. We’re keeping him. If it’s money your boss wants, tell him to let me know how much.”
“You couldn’t pay it.”
Rick sneered. “Get off my land. Tell your boss to kiss my ass.”
“You’re awfully high and mighty,” the last Owner said. A flick of his fingers, a muttered hiss of sound, and the second black dragon leapt forward.
“Fool,” Rick said with a soft sigh.
Cal dodged the black’s graceful leap, then sprang suddenly forward while the black was still landing, sinking his teeth into its throat, not quite hard enough to draw blood, then reared up as he pivoted to throw the black into two reds as they sprang forward to join the fight.
The last red bounded over the disjointed pile of the other three, scorching breath flaring out. Rick recoiled from the heat of the blast, but short of turning his head to protect his face, Cal gave no indication of being anything more than vaguely amused as he walked toward the red that was now retreating.
Dragons like this had never fought a knight dragon.
They were as perfect as dragons could be – it was from them the other breeds had been created, the different abilities separated out by careful, selective breeding and refined slowly over the years to create the elemental breeds now known. The High Elements were actually truer, the basic elements only watered down versions of them.
Ironic that blacks were now so highly prized, when once they’d only been the starting point to fully separating out the different elements.
The idiots didn’t stand a chance – it was like pitting housecats against a wild cat. Except these poor dragons could only do what their Owners said.
“Cal, knock them out. I want this over with.”
Growling a low acknowledgement, Cal went from defensive to offensive, quickly knocking out all four dragons. In the middle of the fallen dragons, his scales gleamed with startling brightness in the moonlight, except where fire had blackened them. Nothing a cleaning wouldn’t fix.
“How is that possible?” Tank asked.
“If you’re any sort of owner,” Rick said curtly, “you know the legends.”
“They’re legends, Cross.”
Rick did roll his eyes that time. “Yes, Cal is a legend. A legend just took out four dragons in a matter of minutes. Christ, where the hell do they dig you people up?” He reached out to stroke Cal’s smooth, slick scales as the dragon sat down beside him.
Tank’s reply was cut off as two figures suddenly appeared at the edge of the yard.
Chris frowned. “I thought I felt something.” He narrowed his eyes at Tank and the others. “What are you doing here, besides the obvious?”
“Who the fuck are you?” Tank demanded.
“Chris White,” Chris replied, striding toward them. “I was hired to find a kidnapped frost dragon. If you’re here to take him, you can go the hell away.”
The owner of the black Cal had thrown stepped forward. “If we’re not listening to him,” he pointed to Rick, “then we’re certainly not listening to you. Ain’t your yard.”
In reply, Chris merely threw his head back and laughed, the sound echoing out across the mountains around them. Then he abruptly stopped, and lifted his right hand. A ring glittered there, the diamond set in it remarkable in size and brilliance.
“Oh, fuck,” Tank hissed. “You’re that detective.”
“That’s right,” Chris said. “I know something a lot worse than a shiny dragon so go the fuck away.”
Tank nodded. “We’re leaving.”
“What!”
“Shut it,” Tank snarled. “Dragons I deal with.” He looked at Chris, then hastily looked away. “Demons I don’t. We’re out. I’ll…give the boss your message, Cross.”
“Do that.” He watched them until they were out of sight, and didn’t relax until Cal shifted back to human. “What a night.” He didn’t protest as Cal wrapped an arm around him, wrapping his own around Cal’s waist in a loose embrace. He glanced at Chris. “I prefer to handle my own fights…”
Chris grimaced. “I don’t like flashing my power, but my client is more important.” He turned and motioned the other man for – a boy, really. Fifteen, maybe sixteen, with the sort of pale blonde hair that kids usually outgrew. A light tan, brown eyes wide with confusion, no doubt some fear, red from where he’d clearly been crying. Gangly, awkward, as they always were at that age. Eventually, though, he’d be a handsome young man. Ideally, one with a dragon at his side.
“Let’s get inside,” Rick said, and ushered everyone into the house and to the living room.
“Where’s Nev?” the kid asked anxiously. “Is he okay? Hurt? Chris said he was a dragon…” He looked anxiously around, hands clenching and unclenching. “Uh. Thank you for saving him. Is he okay?”
Rick chuckled softly. “He’s upstairs, kid. Last room down the hall. Go ahead – but don’t wake him. He’ll like your closeness, but he needs rest.”
“Okay,” the kid called over his shoulder as he bolted.
Cal rumbled in amusement and nuzzled Rick’s cheek. “He acts like you that time I fell into the canyon.”
“Definitely an Owner, I’d say. Poor kids, stuck with each other at so young an age.” He laughed as Cal nipped his throat. “Behave!”
Chris looked at them. “So you’re keeping them both?”
“Yeah,” Rick replied. “We’ll take care of them. Raise them the way dragons and Owners should be raised. What are we going to do about the parents?”
Blue eyes gleamed, and the look on Chris’s face reminded Rick forcibly, and perhaps made it truly clear for the first time, that this man was the consort of a demon lord. “I’ll take care of them. I should destroy the Pit. All of them. I wish it was worth the effort.”
“They’d just build a new one somewhere else; at least here they’ll be careful now not to ever draw your attention again. I’ve never seen Tank go pale before; that was goddamn funny.”
Chris smiled briefly. “Tell the kid his payment is to keep his ass here for however long you deem necessary. And speaking of payment, what would you like in return for helping me?”
“We’ve got all we need,” Rick said, smiling faintly. “Isn’t that right, Cal?”
The dragon muttered something against his neck, too low for Chris to catch. Rick laughed softly at his confusion. “He said ‘Camelot.’
Chris only looked more confused.
“There’s an old legend about dragons, I don’t know if you’ve heard it…”
“No. Facts are what interest me. I have no patience for legends.” Chris made a face. “Even if some would count me one.”
Rick chuckled. “Yeah, I guess you would be. But the legend about dragons…they say there once was a man who was destined to be king. To help in that pursuit, a priestess created for him a weapon mightier than any other, so grand and fine that it had no equal.” He stroked Cal’s cheek as the dragon lifted his head to, their eyes locked. “The weapons responded only to the rightful king, obeyed only his will and commands.”
“A dragon,” Chris said.
“Yes. With scales the color of polished steel, so powerful it was nearly invincible. Its descendants were the same, dragons of unequal power who obeyed only those who carried the blood of the great king.”
Chris shook his head. “An interesting legend. So this is your Camelot?”
“Yeah,” Rick said. “It’s not much, but it’s all we want. If you insist on paying us, though – you can get someone to go grocery shopping for me. I don’t want to go far from the house until those two are firmly settled.”
“Done,” Chris said. “Thanks for everything.”
“We were happy to help.”
With a last nod and wave, Chris vanished.
Rick groaned and stripped out of his jacket, then kicked off his shoes before stretching out on the long, suede couch. Cal settled out along his side, sharp nails raking lightly up and down his chest in a rough, idle caress. “It’s quiet up there.”
“Sleeping,” Cal replied with a yawn of his own.
“Better catch some Z’s of our own then. Tomorrow is going to be a hell of a goddamn day, and that only the beginning.”
Cal leaned up to kiss him, soft and sweet. “They’re cute though. Love you.”
“They are,” Rick agreed. He curled his arms around Cal and closed his eyes, settling back against the couch. “Though not cute enough they’re keeping my bed. Love you too.”
no subject
Date: 2006-12-09 01:56 am (UTC)I really have nothing more coherent to say other than I hope the kid's parents die. Horribly. Messily.
Any chance we could convince you to write about those two?
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Date: 2006-12-09 02:04 am (UTC)How can you say it's not good or exciting or any of that? It was fantastic! Your action scenes are really working their way from good to impressive, you know that?
And chocolate Ricky made me laugh so much!
no subject
Date: 2006-12-09 02:12 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-09 02:26 am (UTC)Any chance for a drabble ( or two!)of the kit and Kennedy mature, though... They'd probably revolutionize the Pits!
no subject
Date: 2006-12-09 02:30 am (UTC)I love Rick and Cal, and I LOVE the way that you walk that fine line between Owner and Dragon and lovers of equal standing. And I like too, how you can show how different Cal and Rick are and how they are what the norm should be and can then show how the Pits have perversed that and made it a mockery of Owner and Dragon instead of upholding what it should be.
Heehee! Chocolate Ricky! I so want to see that. ^___________________^!!
...and seriously, like we're not going to pester you to death for Nev and Ken's story? *HUGE PUPPY EYES OF DOOM* ^_^ Poor kid. He was absolutely adorable, and Cal's protective instinct towards him and Rick's acceptance of that instinct seriously made me melt into happy puddle of goo. *hearts*
You rock the universe and all the planets in it. *flying tackle glomps* Much, much love for this universe and for this story in particular. ^_____________________________^!!
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Date: 2006-12-09 03:17 am (UTC)So there's going to be another story like this, right? With Cal and Rick and Nevada and the other kid (don't remember his name). I want to see the kids awake :D *glomps* thank you for posting this <33333333333333333333333333333 (hearts times infinity)
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Date: 2006-12-09 04:06 am (UTC)This is so much fun, love Carl and Rick (so cute). Plus the whole premise of this story is just intriguing.
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Date: 2006-12-09 04:19 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-09 05:39 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-09 06:11 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-09 11:16 am (UTC)and yeah, speaking of the twist, is that a reference to that other story of yours, the one aboutthe reincarnated King Arthur and the rest from Camelot? If not, do you plan to tie it in in the future since it kinda fits? Or do you have different plans for each altogether?
and dare I assume Cal's a PB as well? I'd assume so based on the biological details but I could be wrong, still, since you've never come right out and said it in the story.
but damn, that was satisfying. it's like wanting to eat this certain kind of ice-cream or something, all silky, rich and smooth yet not too sweet, and finally getting to eat it. Yea, I'm talking about that feeling of extreme satisfaction you get after you're done eating it...what I'm feeling now is akin to this feeling.
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Date: 2006-12-09 01:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-09 07:36 pm (UTC)if he hadn’t known full well Cal was merely caring for a kit. It was sort of cute, really. - v. amused by the image of that. ^_____^
Ahaha, so other than that, I can only say *___* lovely. Cal and Rick were just perfect, both together and how they should act being who and what they are. ^___^;;
And everyone else probably already badgered for it, but Nevada and Kennedy? ^______^ I would so love to read more of them. Or dragons, like this. So pretty.
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Date: 2006-12-09 10:45 pm (UTC)You open up worlds.
So, yeah. Comment, huh.
Date: 2006-12-09 11:59 pm (UTC)A few questions - which of these are existing characters, if any? Am I supposed to know about Chris and Sable already? *intrigued*
And the inevitable question, will there be more?
Re: So, yeah. Comment, huh.
Date: 2006-12-10 12:08 am (UTC)Chris and Sable are from Dance with the Devil (http://www.livejournal.com/tools/memories.bml?user=maderr&keyword=Dance+with+the+Devil&filter=all).
There will be ^__^ I fear for my life, else ^_~
Re: So, yeah. Comment, huh.
Date: 2006-12-10 12:25 am (UTC)*pokes through memories* Um. Which is first?
And, yay!
Re: So, yeah. Comment, huh.
Date: 2006-12-10 12:30 am (UTC)^_^ Cool.
they're listed in the order they're meant to be read. I thought it was more fun to hope back and forth, though I've had people go "wtf is with you?" once or twice ^^:;
Re: So, yeah. Comment, huh.
Date: 2006-12-10 06:30 am (UTC)I think you should know that the links at the bottom of each story on your website lead to Lord Enterprises, though.
By the way, I think that order works. It lets that punch at the end of The Devil's Consort get through (sadly I was already spoiled, of course).
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Date: 2006-12-10 04:34 am (UTC)I like your mythology tie-in and the details about dragon types.
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Date: 2006-12-10 12:44 pm (UTC)Also, eeeeeeeeee, the cuuuuuuuuuuute. *purrs*
..And, er, I forgot to eat because I was so preoccupied. :x Oops.
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Date: 2006-12-12 10:53 pm (UTC)I love that Cal turned out to be pretty much the ultimate dragoon, that's just so awesome...
(and thank you for helping me to get through some of slow-like-molasses time where I'm at work sitting behind a computer with little better to do because so few people actually call us. Apparently no one wants tickets for the theater anymore. Le sigh)
Right. Did I mention I loved this story? I really, really love this verse, too, which just made it so much better... *floats in happy post-story bliss*
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Date: 2006-12-13 02:57 am (UTC)Actually, that is one of the best things about your stories, in general. They make sense. Even if they are fairy tales. But then, fairy tales made more sense in their original tellings and in their original contexts anyway. Which reminds me... but this is becoming a sleepy tangent, so just remind me, if you are interested, to tell you about Hansel and Gretel someday.
Back to loving this. I'm glad you added the bit about Chris wanting to destroy the pit and Rick pointing out that they would just rebuild. So true. But I really wanted to see them destroyed. I hope, someday... In the meantime, I look forward to seeing Kenny and Nev's story.
Another thought. The 'normals' in this almost seem to have more power in some ways. It made me think of something... and then I figured it out. Reminded me of Kidnapped. I wonder if the 'power of having no power' is in any of your other stories? Ah, I still owe Kitty a paper on mermaids, I better stop before I turn you into a dissertation.^^
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Date: 2007-01-14 05:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-28 01:49 pm (UTC)How the fuck did I misss this?
Spectacular, as always... and...and....
*stuttering*
I'm reduced to incoherent fangirling.
*headdesk*
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Date: 2008-06-17 09:30 pm (UTC)Just the kind of ending I like. I could read some Rick/Cal lemon, though...
Cheers!