I owe many many thank you's.
Dec. 26th, 2006 08:02 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
maderrI doubt I'll even remember them all. I've got so many pretty cards...from Tsaiko, Stardance, The Queen. All so pretty! Star, yours was so cheerful. And the comment on my name made me giggle, Tsaiko. Queen, you always find the prettiest cards. More people sent them, and I am sorry for neglecting you.
Charis sent me Dexter and an awesome-looking book. I love period stuff. It's the one thing I wish I could do that I simply can't. Mmm. She also sent a chicken toy for the cats that terrifies them to death. It's the funniest thing ever.
Mechante sent me a gift cert for a serial that she makes sound really fsking cool. So busting into that once I have a chance. Argh, must catch up on writing. Aha, slowly I'm getting my act together though that still doesn't excuse my not remembering in the first place. *sigh* I lose. Mechante sent me a bookmark, and it is lovely. I was using it in manga today, and tomorrow it will grace the pages of sailor slash, yus.
Drat it, who sent me the pretty pretty Prison Break magazine? *____* Miika! That was who! OMFG I'M A GODDAMN IDIOT. It came with the Naughty/Nice cards ^___^ I had it to get put nicely away in a stack of cards that has now gone missing. Christ no one has any patience with me.
Argh, what else was sent to me? Did I thank Skylark? Who not only sends me the coolest stuffs, but reads my stories whenever I harass her via email and says stuff that is way way too nice. She gives me too much credit, but I have not the heart to dissuade her. Thank you, my lovely Sky.
Ki chan is my lovely Imp, always always.
If I have neglected you, tell me so. That is an order. I put off and put off proper thanking b/c my littlest sister is in town. And because I was writing about one of Ricky's brothers. Would offering that get me out of a little bit of trouble? *does not deny being pathetic and sad*
“What is the trouble, Oliver?” Tori looked up through the thick glass wall of the meeting room – Oliver’s office was always a mess – as the lawyer strode from the office.
Hello.
Tori kept his portfolio open to seem occupied and discreetly watched the man speaking with Oliver. Glaringly out of place in just jeans, a denim jacket, and a faded t-shirt with some obscure band name. He wore the look well, though, his overlong, shaggy hair a perfect touch – and the glasses making him borderline adorable. Looked about twenty five or so, though with wolves it could be hard to tell; they tended to age well and Tori would bet anything the man was werewolf. That, of course, begged the questions of why he was alone – werewolves almost never traveled alone. They far preferred to travel in pairs at least, usually two or three. It was their nature.
As Tori watched, the man spoke quietly, awkwardly to Oliver. It was a mystery how he’d even gotten in the office…except that the secretary was never at her desk if she could help it. Tori wondered how much longer it would take Oliver to fire the woman, who spent more time flirting with the law clerks than doing her job.
The man bobbed a half bow, an unusual affectation except amongst paranormals, especially the higher ones – demons, vampires, and werewolves, who clung tightly to old rules and styles. Oliver said something else, then turned and strode back to the meeting room. Sitting down, he picked up his cell phone – but spoke to Tori.
“He came because someone told him I was the contact for your property – specifically, the old cabin at the top.”
Tori blinked. “He wants that moldy old cabin I should really get around to knocking down? I always mean to put a guesthouse up there, complete with sauna to taunt Ricky’s Cal. What did he say?”
Still acting as though he was speaking into his phone, Oliver replied, “I guess he read one of the old ads, wanted to know if it was still for rent. I told him I didn’t believe so, but I’d call the owner and ask.”
Chuckling at the phone antic, Tori snuck another glance through the door. A werewolf, eh? Handsome…and alone for some odd reason. A lone wolf? Rare. Had he done something to anger his pack? Maybe he should confirm… “Werewolf?”
“Yes,” Oliver murmured, motioning as though locked in argument with the person on the other end of the line. “Smelled a bit like blood, I think he’s been in a fight recently. You aren’t thinking of agreeing?”
Tori shrugged and smiled briefly. “Why not? A lone wolf would hardly prove anything but interesting to Sie and Ril…and I am rather curious. Tell him the owner would be willing to rent it out – set the rent at something low but not so low it would sound strange. Four hundred? Try three hundred.” He shrugged again. “We can dump the money into my stocks. Manage the details.”
Oliver nodded and shut his phone with a click, then stepped back outside and spoke rapidly with the werewolf – who flashed a grin so brilliant Tori barely kept himself from staring. Oh, yes. Sie and Ril would like this one very much. A second later he was enthusiastically shaking Oliver’s hand before bolting from the office.
Chuckling, shaking his head in amusement, Oliver strode back into the meeting room and resumed his seat. “Well, you have a new tenant. I told him he could move in immediately; rent checks are to be sent here first of each month – I waived this month in exchange for handling the setting up of electricity and all. The money will be forwarded to your broker.”
“Excellent. What was his name?”
“Hmm? Oh.” Oliver looked up from the papers he’d abandoned when the werewolf showed up. “Kipling Blue.”
“From the Blue pack?”
“One would presume,” Oliver said disinterestedly. “What did you want to do with the property in Inglington?”
“Sell it. The one in Gorton as well. With the profits from those sales, we should be able to buy up the last of the land the Clan needs. Keep the property in Kenton; I think Ricky’s new housemates will like it when that frost is old enough to need space of its own. Forward everything to Ricky, tell him we can arrange the details later.”
Oliver nodded. “Very well. Anything else?”
“Yes,” Tori replied, eyes on door through which the werewolf had vanished. “I want to know more about Blue.”
“As you wish. I’ve got an intern who could stand to do some grunt work.” He smiled, a hint of his fangs showing. “Shall we meet again same time next week?”
“Of course,” Tori replied. He stood and smoothed out his black pinstripe suit and deep burgundy tie, a perfect compliment to his dark brown hair and rust-brown eyes. “Come for lunch sometime.”
Oliver snorted. “So your damn lizards can play tag with me like they did my assistant? I think not. I prefer to maintain some of my dignity.”
Laughing, Tori waved goodbye and strode from the office to the elevator lobby.
Downstairs, he brushed through the crowded lobby and out into the bustling street. A second later his car pulled up, the chauffer climbing out and opening the door for him. Tori slid into the back seat and settled against plush leather, closing his eyes and sighing.
“Home in an hour, sir.”
Tori grimaced. “Make it forty five minutes.”
“Yes, sir.”
He dozed lightly as the battle with traffic gradually moved into a road in the countryside, into roads that were little more than dirt or rock, a strange contrast to the sleek back auto.
“Here you are, sir.”
“Thank you, Wilson. Same time next week, if you please.”
“Of course, sir.”
Handing the man a fifty dollar bill, Tori waited until he’d driven away before turning and striding up the steps of his luxury cabin – he’d liked Ricky’s so much, his brother had designed a similar one for him.
He locked the door behind him and reactivated the security system – it deactivated automatically with the special made keys, a toy made by Dri. “I’m home!” he called, though of course Sie and Ril would already know that.
Nothing.
Tori rolled his eyes and stripped out of his blazer, leaving it and the silk tie draped over the stair banister. Unfastening the top three buttons of his shirt, he then strode down the hallway toward the back of the house. His fingers brushed along the bottom edge of a simple pale gold frame, which set off a landscape painting of an old castle shining beneath the moon.
At the end of the hall was a set of French doors, stained dark gold though the designer had tried to insist on painting them white – Tori had fired her after she’d suggested pink in the living room to give the house a ‘feminine touch’. As if he cared about females.
The French doors led to a wide sunroom, the hardwood floor covered with scattered rugs in blues, cream, and gold. The furniture matched, deep soft couches and warm gold whicker. Glass top tables and paper lanterns for evening – currently late afternoon sunshine spilled through the screens.
On the long, wide couch two figures were twined together, dozing lazily in the sunshine, looking more like cats than dragons.
“You two are the laziest…I feed you, house you, let you run wild on acres of land costing me hundreds of thousands of dollars…and what do I get after a hard day of work? Not even a kiss.”
The dragons chuckled and stirred on the couch, shifting from their glinting steel-colored dragons forms to human. Compact, toned figures with shoulder-length, curly gold-brown hair and amber eyes. Mirror images of each other. They held out their arms, untwining enough to make a space for him, dragging Tori down as he drew close.
Warm lips eagerly, greedily, sought his. One twin, then the other, taking a deep kiss before those lips moved to the rest of his face, his neck, as fingers stole into his shirt to explore skin.
“Missed you, Tori.”
“Gone too long.”
Tori snorted softly and allowed the dragons to push him onto his back. He curved one hand around Sie’s waist, his other around Ril’s, and tugged them down to curl up against his sides. They nuzzled and pet, nipping and lapping at his throat. “I was gone five hours, and I can see you barely noticed.”
Sie nipped hard where his pulse beat, guaranteed to leave a bruise.
“Sie,” Tori said, voice firm.
A tongue lapped at the forming bruise, an apology.
“I know very well you missed me. Did you do anything besides lay about?”
“Ran. Played. Almost went in the hot tub but decided to come here instead.”
Ril leaned up enough to steal a proper kiss, his hair soft against Tori’s cheeks. “Did you bring us cookies?”
“No, I did not bring you cookies,” Tori said, rolling his eyes at the twin pouts. He gave a long-suffering sigh. “I told you I would make some tonight. The groceries will be delivered in about an hour or so. There are other things to eat besides cookies in the mean time.”
Sie sniffed. “What’s better than cookies? Other than Tori.”
“Nothing,” Ril agreed.
Tori laughed. “You two are hopeless. I think I may have something better than cookies, though. A puppy is going to be renting the old cabin.”
On either side of him, the dragons rippled with surprise. “A puppy?” Ril asked.
“A werewolf. Loner. Seemed sort of sad. Asked Oliver if he could rent the cabin – I told Oliver to let him.”
Now the twins began to all but vibrate. Unlike most dragons, they loved to have playmates, companions. Something about having each other only made them want more. Unfortunately, other dragons were fairly solitary and didn’t want other dragons in their territory – minus Cal and Lin, the twins litter mates, but they lived hours away with Tori’s brothers. Other races were simply too intimidated to play with dragons.
Ril and Sie were generally nothing more than over sized cats with shiny scales instead of fur. They could be as nasty and brutal as any other dragon, and could hold their own against the rest of the Clan just fine…but they liked to play, and nap, and steal more cookies than they could actually eat.
“Will he play?” Ril asked. They had recently turned twenty-six, but were far mellower than most dragons at that age. Perfect for him, who had always been too serious for his age. Even Dri said so, and he had no room to talk.
Tori frowned in thought. “We’ll see. A lone wolf always wants a home…give him his space, you two. At least until I’ve learned more about him.” He spoke firmly, emphasizing he was giving them an order – as their Owner, he would be obeyed even if they disliked it. “I guess we’ll know for certain how he’d take to it when he smells dragon all over the forest. Keep away, let him get comfortable. We’ll see how he does…and if he doesn’t run, perhaps you’ll have someone to play with.”
Sie nibbled at his neck. “Is he pretty?”
“Quite pretty,” Tori replied, gasping as Ril shoved his shirt open and bit down on one nipple with his sharp teeth, then lapped at it with his rough tongue. “About your age. Glasses. Shaggy looking. You’ll like him.”
Making a sound that in any other creature would have been a purr, Sie leaned up to kiss him. “Tori likes him, so we will too.” He turned to kiss his brother, a sight that never failed to take Tori’s breath away, leave him hot and aching. So very fine, his dragons. Born of the same egg, sharing a rare bond, and for that reason beyond the control of most – rare was the person who could tame two dragons.
For that reason, and in the spirit of his older brothers in all their cheesiness, he’d named them after the seat in which only knight could sit – Siege and Perilous. To tame twins took a man willing to play with them…and rather a more open mind than most had. More than a few of the Clan had raised their eyebrows high at some of their antics.
That stuffiness was only one reason he, Ricky, and Dri had all left.
Tori moaned as the twins kissed again, his fingers flexing on their smooth, golden skin. They broke apart panting and descended upon him, Ril biting hard, Sie soothing the marks with his tongue. Two sets of hands stripped away his shirt and opened his pants, tugging at his cock, rolling his balls. The twins each gave him another hard, hungry kiss, leaving his lips bruised. As they kissed each other again, Tori came with a hoarse cry. A second later the twins followed, shouting his name, each other’s, before they collapsed on either side of him.
“Up,” he said after awhile. “Shower. Then eat, because I doubt you miscreants bothered to while I was gone.”
Lazy, sloppy kisses trailed along each of his cheeks. “Warm sun. No Tori. Weren’t hungry.”
“Tori back. New toy. Hungry.”
Teeth nipped his throat, and Tori started to finally notice all the new, slight aches scattered along his shoulders and chest – owning a dragon, never mind two, guaranteed a lifetime of bruises and bite marks. “I am not a steak, you brats.”
“Better than,” Ril said with another bite.
Tori grunted, then smacked both their backsides. “Shower time, let’s go.”
*~*~*~*
Kipling padded to the edge of the woods, stopping just far enough back that he wouldn’t draw the attention of the three down below.
Down in the valley below was a large pond, complete with a small waterfall. The water was a deep blue-green, surrounded by lush greenery and wildflowers. To one side was a large, flat rock on which a man stretched out to soak up the sun. He was stunning. Tall, slender, dark wavy brown hair. Sprinklings of it across his chest, darker at his groin. Muscular, but not overly.
The other two were shorter, all tight, toned muscle and sun-darkened skin. Even from a distance he could see those muscles flex and move as they splashed and played in the water, chased each other – completely nude – around the field before going back to the water. They had curly gold hair that fell in wild tangles to their shoulders.
Dragons. His very first day up here he had smelled dragon. It had terrified him, to realize he was so close to creatures so dangerous. He’d been to the Pits before, back before he’d been driven from the pack. Hated it, even as the fighting lust excited the animal in him. Nothing was more awful than seeing such beautiful creatures so maltreated.
Except in all those visits to the Pits, he’d never seen dragons like this. Scales the color of steel, flashing in the sunlight as though truly made of metal. As beautiful as they were dangerous.
Kipling wasn’t even certain why he’d been allowed to rent a cabin anywhere near dragons. They were notoriously territorial, even more so than werewolves. No dragon would ever tolerate having another predator in their territory.
Then again, of what possible threat could a lone werewolf be to two dragons? If they noticed him at all, it was no doubt in a vaguely amused sort of way. In the six weeks he’d been here, they’d done nothing to acknowledge his presence. They didn’t care. Instead, he’d come across them and their Owner here one day…and had been unable to stop searching them out, though always from a distance and never for longer than a half hour or so.
Watching them hurt. Not just because all three were so very fine…they were obviously a pack. Mates, even. It made him ache for the home he no longer had. Would never have again.
He wasn’t sorry he’d done it. It had been necessary – but it had cost him everything. Home. Family. Pack. Now he was nothing and the people he’d grown up with were hunting him down.
At least they weren’t likely to find him here. He’d made damned certain the trail went cold.
The twins climbed from the water onto the rock where their Owner lay, and Kipling gave a wolfish grin, tongue lolling, as he watched the Owner protest being covered in cold, wet water – though those protests almost immediately changed into something else entirely.
Kipling whined softly and turned away, racing back through the forest, up higher into the mountains toward the ramshackle cabin that was now his home. It was as sad and pathetic as he was now. All that he was fit for anymore.
His claws clicked on the old wooden porch. Even his wolf form caused him pain these days, though to deny it would be like trying to give up breathing. Dark gray fur and the trademark deep blue eyes of the Blue pack. The pack he was no longer part of. Kipling wanted to cry, to howl his pain away – but such a display in the territory of dragons who permitted him to stay would be poor behavior.
Shifting, Kipling raked back his thick, black hair – it was badly in need of a cut, but he never felt like seeing to it. No but him cared how he looked anymore.
Fucking hell, he was sick of his own company. Maybe the dragons would stay inside tonight and he could go for a real run, just let the wolf take over and work out all his frustrations. He couldn’t spend the rest of his life depressed. Somehow he’d get through it.
The cabin was pure dumb luck. That stupid snotty lawyer hadn’t liked him at all, but somehow Kipling had lucked out. It wasn’t much – especially when he was used to being one of the Alpha’s personal assistants. Not much, but far better than being dead.
Patting his pockets, Kipling pulled out his glasses and slipped them on. A lifetime of reading, writing, and working with computers had left him near sighted.
Sighing, Kipling dropped down onto the garage-sale couch he’d picked up a few days after moving in. It was the most hideous shade of green on the face of the planet, but he hadn’t been able to get away with much money. Once it was safer to venture about, he’d have to get work…
That was depressing him all over again. He’d been a personal assistant to the Alpha of the Blue pack. Now he’d have to be an office monkey or something equally horrendous. Which wasn’t really the problem. He didn’t miss the pomp and circumstance of the life; these mountains were beautiful. It was the solitude. Wolves didn’t deal well alone. He wasn’t handling it well at all.
Damn it. He needed a drink. This whole fucking mess was driving him insane. Nobility was highly fucking overrated. The next time he felt like doing the “right thing” he was going to kick his conscious in the goddamned ass. All the right thing had gotten him was abject misery.
Mope. Sulk. Whine. Bitch. Obviously he was good for nothing anymore. Sighing, Kipling dragged himself off the couch and to the little corner kitchen. His fridge was an ancient ugly yellow thing but it still worked. Pulling out a longneck and twisting off the cap, Kipling strode back outside to sit on the porch steps.
The warm breeze felt good on his face, carrying a thousand scents to him. Pine, water, all manner of animals – dragons. Gods above they smelled good. All he’d had were trace scents and those made him all but dizzy. It had freaked him out the first time he’d realized what the smell was…but almost immediately he’d found it appealing. Like sun-warmed metal, mingled with the sharp, tangy scent that only came off animals truly wild. To ever call a dragon tame was a foolish, stupid thing.
Every now and then he caught a hint of their Owner too – like wild grass and aloe, fresh and clean, so fine a contrast against the sharp, wild tang of the dragons. If he ever got a chance to smell them up close, it would likely drive him insane. Intoxicating was the best word for it. Those scents tortured and soothed all at once.
The first time he’d found them in the pond he’d nearly expired on the spot. His life might suck, but he plenty of images to keep him distracted on lonely nights – even if in the morning the ache was deeper than ever. Sighing at himself, Kipling drew one knee up and rest his forehead against it, setting the longneck down.
Pack. He wanted a pack. Instead he’d never have anyone. Other packs would never take a banished wolf. He had nowhere else to go.
All because of that stupid, back stabbing bitch. He’d kill her all over again even if it meant his life turned into a living hell. Whine and moan as he did, he wasn’t sorry he’d killed her.
It was just a goddamn pity no one fucking believed him when he said the fucking bitch was a backstabber who’d tried to sell Blue out. No, she’d had the last laugh there. Everyone thought he’d done it out of jealousy. If only they’d fucking listened!
Maybe over time the truth would come out and they’d let him go home. Not that he really wanted to. The pain of knowing not even his sire had been willing to trust him was one that would never fade.
He couldn’t take this. Snatching up his beer, Kipling downed it in one long swallow then let the empty bottle clatter to the porch. Moving up the steps, he stretched out along the porch and closed his eyes. Nap until dark, then it would be time to run.
Kipling woke with a start, immediately shifting, tensing for a fight. Something was different. He sniffed the air, searching for what had changed. Froze in shock as realization flooded him.
The dragons. He smelled like the dragons. Their scent was all over him…like they’d been right here. Had scented him.
It made him cold with fear to realize that he’d slept right through it. Two dragons had snuck to his cabin and touched him and he’d not stirred a bit. What did that mean? He’d stayed out of their way, had been so careful not to seem a threat. Why were they bothering him? Scenting him?
Snarling, Kipling threw himself off the porch and raced off into the forest, following scent and memory down the mountain to the valley where the dragons’ cabin resided. Barely had he cleared the forest when he saw them.
Their steel-colored scales flashed like silver in the moonlight as they slunk off the back porch and into the yard. They sat back on their haunches and waited for him. Behind them, on the porch, the dark haired man sat smoking a cigar.
Kipling bared his teeth and growled – but stayed well back. If he angered the dragons, it would take no effort on their part to kill him.
The dragons gave what seemed to be smiles, though with that much teeth showing in such hard faces Kipling wasn’t sure. They slunk toward him. Kipling continued to growl low as they circled him, slid and rubbed against him. He fought to keep growling, not to whimper as the sheer smell of them finally began to invade his anger, overwhelm his senses. Those scents. He wanted to drown in the smell of them, hot metal and untamable creature. He snarled when teeth nipped his side, jerking away – but that only sent him into the other dragon, who nipped in turn.
“Behave!” the dark haired man said sharply from the porch. “You have manners, use them.”
Making a series of sharp, chirping sounds the dragon bowed their heads in obedience. Then they started nudging him forward, across the yard. Kipling attempted to get away, go back, but one werewolf against two dragons had only one result.
“Pretty, pretty,” the dark haired man murmured as the dragons herded him right up to the porch. The man took a pull on his cigar and then set it aside. “Come here,” he said, voice gentle but firm – the tone of an Owner, a master. Kipling could not resist, not when he ached so deeply for an Alpha to follow, a pack to which he could belong.
Fingers sank into his fur, petting roughly, knowingly. Before he could stop himself, unable to help it, Kipling moved close enough to rest his head on the man’s thigh.
“Very pretty,” the man murmured, stroking his head and ears.
Kipling tensed as the dragons came close again, rubbing against him and the dark haired man, settling on either side of them.
“Now, now. These idiots won’t hurt you.” The man snorted. “No more than they hurt me, anyway.”
The dragons made a strange barking sound that Kipling realized a moment later was laughter.
“Let’s see you in human form, hmm?”
Unable to resist that commanding tone, Kipling backed up a bit and shifted. “What’s going on here?” he asked.
“My apologies,” the dark haired man said. “They were getting impatient. I told them they could try something tonight if they behaved and didn’t push too hard.” He swatted at each twin as they changed. “For the nipping, you miscreants – no cookies for a week.”
The twins pouted. Kipling boggled to see it. Dragons didn’t pout.
Kipling shook his head. “Try something? What are you talking about? Who are you?”
“My apologies,” the dark haired man said, flashing a rueful grin. “None of us are being very polite tonight. My name is Torvald Cross. Most people call me Tori, please feel free to do the same. These two trouble makers are Perilous and Siege.” He stroked each of the twins’ hair. “Sie and Ril, for short. You are Kipling Blue.”
“How did you know that?”
Tori chuckled. “It’s my cabin you’re renting; I prefer to know a bit about my tenant.”
Kipling tensed and made to back away, not liking the knowing look on Tori’s face – but Ril reached and snatched him close, and all of Kipling struggles only resulted in him being crowded onto the wide steps, sandwiched between Ril and Tori. A hand raked through his hair in a rough caress. Further struggles only resulted in a strong arm wrapping about his waist. “What is this all about?”
“Pretty wolf,” Ril murmured, nuzzling his throat. “Want to keep. Tori said we could.”
Tori rolled his eyes. “No, dragon. I said we could keep him if he agreed. There’s a difference.”
“What?” Kipling, rather displeased the word came out as something resembling a squeak. “I want to know what’s going on here!”
Tori laughed softly and picked his cigar back up. “My apologies. I’m used to them, I forget how overwhelming they can be to others. I…there is a lot to explain, and certainly if you want to leave we will not stop you. Before that, however…is it true you killed the Alpha female of the Blue pack? After you showed up and asked to rent the cabin…as I say, I like to know about anyone close to me. It is nothing personal…there are many who would kill to get their hands on Sie and Ril. I have to be careful. A lone wolf is strange to see…
Curling up around himself, refusing to be comforted by the arm wrapped about his waist, Kipling ducked his head as memories washed over him.
“Tell me what happened,” Tori said with gentle but firm command.
It soothed some deep ache in him to have commands to follow, to know at least in some small measure his place. To ever fully resist Tori would be far more difficult than defying his Alpha had been. He should be resisting, there was no good reason to trust Tori with anything. He couldn’t help it though, not when he’d spent every day since he’d fled longing for a place to call home.
“She was working with another pack…Colerain, to take out my former Alpha and join the pack up with Colerain’s. Nothing more than a stupid, greedy bitch. The Alpha wouldn’t believe me, neither would anyone else. I kept track of her movements, tried again and again to make someone believe me. They wouldn’t. Finally I sniffed out her plan to kill the Alpha – and killed her first. Then I ran. Fought off a few of them, but I think now I’m far enough away they won’t find me for some time.”
“Our pretty wolf,” Sie growled. “We saw you first.”
Tori snorted. “I saw him first, you idiot lizard.”
“Same difference,” Ril said, leaning in close to nuzzle Kipling again, voice whisper soft in his ear. “Our Kip.”
The soft words made him shiver. “I’m not—why—I don’t understand what’s going on here.”
Tori sank fingers into his hair and dragged him forward, covering his mouth with warm lips that tasted of sugar cookies and cigar smoke. Kipling moaned softly as Tori demanded entrance to his mouth, unable to resist the taste of that mouth, the intoxicating smells all around him. Wild grass and aloe, hot metal and the tang of wild animal. He whimpered as Tori plundered and possessed his mouth, and Kipling had the strange feeling the man was staking a claim.
“You are a pretty wolf,” Tori said with a pleased hum as he pulled away. “I am astonished you’ve no mate.”
Kipling started to reply that no one had wanted the mildest and seemingly weakest of Alpha Blue’s assistants, but a sharp bite to the back of his throat changed the words into a startled gasp.
“My turn,” Sie said, leaning across Tori’s lap to take a kiss of his own – tangy, sharp, almost burning. Sharp teeth dug into his lip, not quite drawing blood. Kipling struggled to keep his sanity. It was ridiculous – to be kissing not one man but a man and two dragons. They felt and tasted and smelled so good though. So much like home it left him terrified.
He drew a ragged breath as Sie let him go, only to be shifted so Ril could have his turn. Warm hands held and steadied him, more hands than he’d ever thought would be involved in such things.
“Why?” he managed when Ril finally let him go. “You don’t even know me.”
Tori gave him a smile that sent shivers down his spine. “Oh, I have an eye for these things. Something told me you’d do well in our unorthodox little family. The dragons need a playmate besides each other, someone who can mostly keep up with them and doesn’t mind they play rough. Wolves don’t do well alone. You need a pack – though if you choose to go back to Blue if and when everything is cleared up, we will not stop you.”
No. Certainty cut through Kipling, so deep and sure it took what remained of his breath away. He didn’t want to go back to Blue. They’d betrayed him when he’d most needed someone to believe him. Blue was no longer his pack, no longer his home.
“You’re making this decision awfully fast,” he managed.
The dragons chuckled. “Tori’s always quick to decide things.”
“It’s called being decisive, and hasn’t my decisive nature brought you a pretty Kip?”
Kipling snorted. “I’m not pretty.”
“Pretty Kip,” Sie said, licking at his lips. “Want to play.”
“Inside,” Tori said.
“Outside,” Ril challenged. “He smells like the earth, the trees.” He bundled Kipling close and covered his face in sharp, hungry kisses. Not waiting for anyone to disagree or order otherwise, he all but shoved them off the steps and to the ground. His brother was right beside him, both of them all but attacking in their eagerness to “play”.
Tori laughed softly from the porch, stamping out his cigar. “Dragons. Someone come give me a kiss before I get jealous.”
“Silly Tori,” Ril replied, pulling away from Kip to wrap himself around Tori before dragging him off the porch.
“Dragons, I’m too old to roll around in the dirt with you. Inside.”
For reply, Ril merely kissed him again, then pulled him down to tangle with Sie and Kipling. “Tori’s not old.”
“You brats are going to be the death of me.” Tori kissed each of them in turn, then descended upon Kipling. “So do you want to stay and play, pretty wolf?”
Kipling stared up into eyes that carried a hint of red even in the darkness surrounding them. “It’s probably dangerous. They’ll come after me.”
On either side of them the dragons laughed.
“All right, so maybe not dangerous. I…” Oh, who was he kidding? Here was a chance for a home, if only for a night. Some part of him whispered it would be far longer than that, and he wanted to believe it. “Yes. I want to stay and play.”
The dragons cheered, and Kipling couldn’t help but laugh into Tori’s mouth as they kissed.
Charis sent me Dexter and an awesome-looking book. I love period stuff. It's the one thing I wish I could do that I simply can't. Mmm. She also sent a chicken toy for the cats that terrifies them to death. It's the funniest thing ever.
Mechante sent me a gift cert for a serial that she makes sound really fsking cool. So busting into that once I have a chance. Argh, must catch up on writing. Aha, slowly I'm getting my act together though that still doesn't excuse my not remembering in the first place. *sigh* I lose. Mechante sent me a bookmark, and it is lovely. I was using it in manga today, and tomorrow it will grace the pages of sailor slash, yus.
Drat it, who sent me the pretty pretty Prison Break magazine? *____* Miika! That was who! OMFG I'M A GODDAMN IDIOT. It came with the Naughty/Nice cards ^___^ I had it to get put nicely away in a stack of cards that has now gone missing. Christ no one has any patience with me.
Argh, what else was sent to me? Did I thank Skylark? Who not only sends me the coolest stuffs, but reads my stories whenever I harass her via email and says stuff that is way way too nice. She gives me too much credit, but I have not the heart to dissuade her. Thank you, my lovely Sky.
Ki chan is my lovely Imp, always always.
If I have neglected you, tell me so. That is an order. I put off and put off proper thanking b/c my littlest sister is in town. And because I was writing about one of Ricky's brothers. Would offering that get me out of a little bit of trouble? *does not deny being pathetic and sad*
Pack
“What is the trouble, Oliver?” Tori looked up through the thick glass wall of the meeting room – Oliver’s office was always a mess – as the lawyer strode from the office.
Hello.
Tori kept his portfolio open to seem occupied and discreetly watched the man speaking with Oliver. Glaringly out of place in just jeans, a denim jacket, and a faded t-shirt with some obscure band name. He wore the look well, though, his overlong, shaggy hair a perfect touch – and the glasses making him borderline adorable. Looked about twenty five or so, though with wolves it could be hard to tell; they tended to age well and Tori would bet anything the man was werewolf. That, of course, begged the questions of why he was alone – werewolves almost never traveled alone. They far preferred to travel in pairs at least, usually two or three. It was their nature.
As Tori watched, the man spoke quietly, awkwardly to Oliver. It was a mystery how he’d even gotten in the office…except that the secretary was never at her desk if she could help it. Tori wondered how much longer it would take Oliver to fire the woman, who spent more time flirting with the law clerks than doing her job.
The man bobbed a half bow, an unusual affectation except amongst paranormals, especially the higher ones – demons, vampires, and werewolves, who clung tightly to old rules and styles. Oliver said something else, then turned and strode back to the meeting room. Sitting down, he picked up his cell phone – but spoke to Tori.
“He came because someone told him I was the contact for your property – specifically, the old cabin at the top.”
Tori blinked. “He wants that moldy old cabin I should really get around to knocking down? I always mean to put a guesthouse up there, complete with sauna to taunt Ricky’s Cal. What did he say?”
Still acting as though he was speaking into his phone, Oliver replied, “I guess he read one of the old ads, wanted to know if it was still for rent. I told him I didn’t believe so, but I’d call the owner and ask.”
Chuckling at the phone antic, Tori snuck another glance through the door. A werewolf, eh? Handsome…and alone for some odd reason. A lone wolf? Rare. Had he done something to anger his pack? Maybe he should confirm… “Werewolf?”
“Yes,” Oliver murmured, motioning as though locked in argument with the person on the other end of the line. “Smelled a bit like blood, I think he’s been in a fight recently. You aren’t thinking of agreeing?”
Tori shrugged and smiled briefly. “Why not? A lone wolf would hardly prove anything but interesting to Sie and Ril…and I am rather curious. Tell him the owner would be willing to rent it out – set the rent at something low but not so low it would sound strange. Four hundred? Try three hundred.” He shrugged again. “We can dump the money into my stocks. Manage the details.”
Oliver nodded and shut his phone with a click, then stepped back outside and spoke rapidly with the werewolf – who flashed a grin so brilliant Tori barely kept himself from staring. Oh, yes. Sie and Ril would like this one very much. A second later he was enthusiastically shaking Oliver’s hand before bolting from the office.
Chuckling, shaking his head in amusement, Oliver strode back into the meeting room and resumed his seat. “Well, you have a new tenant. I told him he could move in immediately; rent checks are to be sent here first of each month – I waived this month in exchange for handling the setting up of electricity and all. The money will be forwarded to your broker.”
“Excellent. What was his name?”
“Hmm? Oh.” Oliver looked up from the papers he’d abandoned when the werewolf showed up. “Kipling Blue.”
“From the Blue pack?”
“One would presume,” Oliver said disinterestedly. “What did you want to do with the property in Inglington?”
“Sell it. The one in Gorton as well. With the profits from those sales, we should be able to buy up the last of the land the Clan needs. Keep the property in Kenton; I think Ricky’s new housemates will like it when that frost is old enough to need space of its own. Forward everything to Ricky, tell him we can arrange the details later.”
Oliver nodded. “Very well. Anything else?”
“Yes,” Tori replied, eyes on door through which the werewolf had vanished. “I want to know more about Blue.”
“As you wish. I’ve got an intern who could stand to do some grunt work.” He smiled, a hint of his fangs showing. “Shall we meet again same time next week?”
“Of course,” Tori replied. He stood and smoothed out his black pinstripe suit and deep burgundy tie, a perfect compliment to his dark brown hair and rust-brown eyes. “Come for lunch sometime.”
Oliver snorted. “So your damn lizards can play tag with me like they did my assistant? I think not. I prefer to maintain some of my dignity.”
Laughing, Tori waved goodbye and strode from the office to the elevator lobby.
Downstairs, he brushed through the crowded lobby and out into the bustling street. A second later his car pulled up, the chauffer climbing out and opening the door for him. Tori slid into the back seat and settled against plush leather, closing his eyes and sighing.
“Home in an hour, sir.”
Tori grimaced. “Make it forty five minutes.”
“Yes, sir.”
He dozed lightly as the battle with traffic gradually moved into a road in the countryside, into roads that were little more than dirt or rock, a strange contrast to the sleek back auto.
“Here you are, sir.”
“Thank you, Wilson. Same time next week, if you please.”
“Of course, sir.”
Handing the man a fifty dollar bill, Tori waited until he’d driven away before turning and striding up the steps of his luxury cabin – he’d liked Ricky’s so much, his brother had designed a similar one for him.
He locked the door behind him and reactivated the security system – it deactivated automatically with the special made keys, a toy made by Dri. “I’m home!” he called, though of course Sie and Ril would already know that.
Nothing.
Tori rolled his eyes and stripped out of his blazer, leaving it and the silk tie draped over the stair banister. Unfastening the top three buttons of his shirt, he then strode down the hallway toward the back of the house. His fingers brushed along the bottom edge of a simple pale gold frame, which set off a landscape painting of an old castle shining beneath the moon.
At the end of the hall was a set of French doors, stained dark gold though the designer had tried to insist on painting them white – Tori had fired her after she’d suggested pink in the living room to give the house a ‘feminine touch’. As if he cared about females.
The French doors led to a wide sunroom, the hardwood floor covered with scattered rugs in blues, cream, and gold. The furniture matched, deep soft couches and warm gold whicker. Glass top tables and paper lanterns for evening – currently late afternoon sunshine spilled through the screens.
On the long, wide couch two figures were twined together, dozing lazily in the sunshine, looking more like cats than dragons.
“You two are the laziest…I feed you, house you, let you run wild on acres of land costing me hundreds of thousands of dollars…and what do I get after a hard day of work? Not even a kiss.”
The dragons chuckled and stirred on the couch, shifting from their glinting steel-colored dragons forms to human. Compact, toned figures with shoulder-length, curly gold-brown hair and amber eyes. Mirror images of each other. They held out their arms, untwining enough to make a space for him, dragging Tori down as he drew close.
Warm lips eagerly, greedily, sought his. One twin, then the other, taking a deep kiss before those lips moved to the rest of his face, his neck, as fingers stole into his shirt to explore skin.
“Missed you, Tori.”
“Gone too long.”
Tori snorted softly and allowed the dragons to push him onto his back. He curved one hand around Sie’s waist, his other around Ril’s, and tugged them down to curl up against his sides. They nuzzled and pet, nipping and lapping at his throat. “I was gone five hours, and I can see you barely noticed.”
Sie nipped hard where his pulse beat, guaranteed to leave a bruise.
“Sie,” Tori said, voice firm.
A tongue lapped at the forming bruise, an apology.
“I know very well you missed me. Did you do anything besides lay about?”
“Ran. Played. Almost went in the hot tub but decided to come here instead.”
Ril leaned up enough to steal a proper kiss, his hair soft against Tori’s cheeks. “Did you bring us cookies?”
“No, I did not bring you cookies,” Tori said, rolling his eyes at the twin pouts. He gave a long-suffering sigh. “I told you I would make some tonight. The groceries will be delivered in about an hour or so. There are other things to eat besides cookies in the mean time.”
Sie sniffed. “What’s better than cookies? Other than Tori.”
“Nothing,” Ril agreed.
Tori laughed. “You two are hopeless. I think I may have something better than cookies, though. A puppy is going to be renting the old cabin.”
On either side of him, the dragons rippled with surprise. “A puppy?” Ril asked.
“A werewolf. Loner. Seemed sort of sad. Asked Oliver if he could rent the cabin – I told Oliver to let him.”
Now the twins began to all but vibrate. Unlike most dragons, they loved to have playmates, companions. Something about having each other only made them want more. Unfortunately, other dragons were fairly solitary and didn’t want other dragons in their territory – minus Cal and Lin, the twins litter mates, but they lived hours away with Tori’s brothers. Other races were simply too intimidated to play with dragons.
Ril and Sie were generally nothing more than over sized cats with shiny scales instead of fur. They could be as nasty and brutal as any other dragon, and could hold their own against the rest of the Clan just fine…but they liked to play, and nap, and steal more cookies than they could actually eat.
“Will he play?” Ril asked. They had recently turned twenty-six, but were far mellower than most dragons at that age. Perfect for him, who had always been too serious for his age. Even Dri said so, and he had no room to talk.
Tori frowned in thought. “We’ll see. A lone wolf always wants a home…give him his space, you two. At least until I’ve learned more about him.” He spoke firmly, emphasizing he was giving them an order – as their Owner, he would be obeyed even if they disliked it. “I guess we’ll know for certain how he’d take to it when he smells dragon all over the forest. Keep away, let him get comfortable. We’ll see how he does…and if he doesn’t run, perhaps you’ll have someone to play with.”
Sie nibbled at his neck. “Is he pretty?”
“Quite pretty,” Tori replied, gasping as Ril shoved his shirt open and bit down on one nipple with his sharp teeth, then lapped at it with his rough tongue. “About your age. Glasses. Shaggy looking. You’ll like him.”
Making a sound that in any other creature would have been a purr, Sie leaned up to kiss him. “Tori likes him, so we will too.” He turned to kiss his brother, a sight that never failed to take Tori’s breath away, leave him hot and aching. So very fine, his dragons. Born of the same egg, sharing a rare bond, and for that reason beyond the control of most – rare was the person who could tame two dragons.
For that reason, and in the spirit of his older brothers in all their cheesiness, he’d named them after the seat in which only knight could sit – Siege and Perilous. To tame twins took a man willing to play with them…and rather a more open mind than most had. More than a few of the Clan had raised their eyebrows high at some of their antics.
That stuffiness was only one reason he, Ricky, and Dri had all left.
Tori moaned as the twins kissed again, his fingers flexing on their smooth, golden skin. They broke apart panting and descended upon him, Ril biting hard, Sie soothing the marks with his tongue. Two sets of hands stripped away his shirt and opened his pants, tugging at his cock, rolling his balls. The twins each gave him another hard, hungry kiss, leaving his lips bruised. As they kissed each other again, Tori came with a hoarse cry. A second later the twins followed, shouting his name, each other’s, before they collapsed on either side of him.
“Up,” he said after awhile. “Shower. Then eat, because I doubt you miscreants bothered to while I was gone.”
Lazy, sloppy kisses trailed along each of his cheeks. “Warm sun. No Tori. Weren’t hungry.”
“Tori back. New toy. Hungry.”
Teeth nipped his throat, and Tori started to finally notice all the new, slight aches scattered along his shoulders and chest – owning a dragon, never mind two, guaranteed a lifetime of bruises and bite marks. “I am not a steak, you brats.”
“Better than,” Ril said with another bite.
Tori grunted, then smacked both their backsides. “Shower time, let’s go.”
*~*~*~*
Kipling padded to the edge of the woods, stopping just far enough back that he wouldn’t draw the attention of the three down below.
Down in the valley below was a large pond, complete with a small waterfall. The water was a deep blue-green, surrounded by lush greenery and wildflowers. To one side was a large, flat rock on which a man stretched out to soak up the sun. He was stunning. Tall, slender, dark wavy brown hair. Sprinklings of it across his chest, darker at his groin. Muscular, but not overly.
The other two were shorter, all tight, toned muscle and sun-darkened skin. Even from a distance he could see those muscles flex and move as they splashed and played in the water, chased each other – completely nude – around the field before going back to the water. They had curly gold hair that fell in wild tangles to their shoulders.
Dragons. His very first day up here he had smelled dragon. It had terrified him, to realize he was so close to creatures so dangerous. He’d been to the Pits before, back before he’d been driven from the pack. Hated it, even as the fighting lust excited the animal in him. Nothing was more awful than seeing such beautiful creatures so maltreated.
Except in all those visits to the Pits, he’d never seen dragons like this. Scales the color of steel, flashing in the sunlight as though truly made of metal. As beautiful as they were dangerous.
Kipling wasn’t even certain why he’d been allowed to rent a cabin anywhere near dragons. They were notoriously territorial, even more so than werewolves. No dragon would ever tolerate having another predator in their territory.
Then again, of what possible threat could a lone werewolf be to two dragons? If they noticed him at all, it was no doubt in a vaguely amused sort of way. In the six weeks he’d been here, they’d done nothing to acknowledge his presence. They didn’t care. Instead, he’d come across them and their Owner here one day…and had been unable to stop searching them out, though always from a distance and never for longer than a half hour or so.
Watching them hurt. Not just because all three were so very fine…they were obviously a pack. Mates, even. It made him ache for the home he no longer had. Would never have again.
He wasn’t sorry he’d done it. It had been necessary – but it had cost him everything. Home. Family. Pack. Now he was nothing and the people he’d grown up with were hunting him down.
At least they weren’t likely to find him here. He’d made damned certain the trail went cold.
The twins climbed from the water onto the rock where their Owner lay, and Kipling gave a wolfish grin, tongue lolling, as he watched the Owner protest being covered in cold, wet water – though those protests almost immediately changed into something else entirely.
Kipling whined softly and turned away, racing back through the forest, up higher into the mountains toward the ramshackle cabin that was now his home. It was as sad and pathetic as he was now. All that he was fit for anymore.
His claws clicked on the old wooden porch. Even his wolf form caused him pain these days, though to deny it would be like trying to give up breathing. Dark gray fur and the trademark deep blue eyes of the Blue pack. The pack he was no longer part of. Kipling wanted to cry, to howl his pain away – but such a display in the territory of dragons who permitted him to stay would be poor behavior.
Shifting, Kipling raked back his thick, black hair – it was badly in need of a cut, but he never felt like seeing to it. No but him cared how he looked anymore.
Fucking hell, he was sick of his own company. Maybe the dragons would stay inside tonight and he could go for a real run, just let the wolf take over and work out all his frustrations. He couldn’t spend the rest of his life depressed. Somehow he’d get through it.
The cabin was pure dumb luck. That stupid snotty lawyer hadn’t liked him at all, but somehow Kipling had lucked out. It wasn’t much – especially when he was used to being one of the Alpha’s personal assistants. Not much, but far better than being dead.
Patting his pockets, Kipling pulled out his glasses and slipped them on. A lifetime of reading, writing, and working with computers had left him near sighted.
Sighing, Kipling dropped down onto the garage-sale couch he’d picked up a few days after moving in. It was the most hideous shade of green on the face of the planet, but he hadn’t been able to get away with much money. Once it was safer to venture about, he’d have to get work…
That was depressing him all over again. He’d been a personal assistant to the Alpha of the Blue pack. Now he’d have to be an office monkey or something equally horrendous. Which wasn’t really the problem. He didn’t miss the pomp and circumstance of the life; these mountains were beautiful. It was the solitude. Wolves didn’t deal well alone. He wasn’t handling it well at all.
Damn it. He needed a drink. This whole fucking mess was driving him insane. Nobility was highly fucking overrated. The next time he felt like doing the “right thing” he was going to kick his conscious in the goddamned ass. All the right thing had gotten him was abject misery.
Mope. Sulk. Whine. Bitch. Obviously he was good for nothing anymore. Sighing, Kipling dragged himself off the couch and to the little corner kitchen. His fridge was an ancient ugly yellow thing but it still worked. Pulling out a longneck and twisting off the cap, Kipling strode back outside to sit on the porch steps.
The warm breeze felt good on his face, carrying a thousand scents to him. Pine, water, all manner of animals – dragons. Gods above they smelled good. All he’d had were trace scents and those made him all but dizzy. It had freaked him out the first time he’d realized what the smell was…but almost immediately he’d found it appealing. Like sun-warmed metal, mingled with the sharp, tangy scent that only came off animals truly wild. To ever call a dragon tame was a foolish, stupid thing.
Every now and then he caught a hint of their Owner too – like wild grass and aloe, fresh and clean, so fine a contrast against the sharp, wild tang of the dragons. If he ever got a chance to smell them up close, it would likely drive him insane. Intoxicating was the best word for it. Those scents tortured and soothed all at once.
The first time he’d found them in the pond he’d nearly expired on the spot. His life might suck, but he plenty of images to keep him distracted on lonely nights – even if in the morning the ache was deeper than ever. Sighing at himself, Kipling drew one knee up and rest his forehead against it, setting the longneck down.
Pack. He wanted a pack. Instead he’d never have anyone. Other packs would never take a banished wolf. He had nowhere else to go.
All because of that stupid, back stabbing bitch. He’d kill her all over again even if it meant his life turned into a living hell. Whine and moan as he did, he wasn’t sorry he’d killed her.
It was just a goddamn pity no one fucking believed him when he said the fucking bitch was a backstabber who’d tried to sell Blue out. No, she’d had the last laugh there. Everyone thought he’d done it out of jealousy. If only they’d fucking listened!
Maybe over time the truth would come out and they’d let him go home. Not that he really wanted to. The pain of knowing not even his sire had been willing to trust him was one that would never fade.
He couldn’t take this. Snatching up his beer, Kipling downed it in one long swallow then let the empty bottle clatter to the porch. Moving up the steps, he stretched out along the porch and closed his eyes. Nap until dark, then it would be time to run.
Kipling woke with a start, immediately shifting, tensing for a fight. Something was different. He sniffed the air, searching for what had changed. Froze in shock as realization flooded him.
The dragons. He smelled like the dragons. Their scent was all over him…like they’d been right here. Had scented him.
It made him cold with fear to realize that he’d slept right through it. Two dragons had snuck to his cabin and touched him and he’d not stirred a bit. What did that mean? He’d stayed out of their way, had been so careful not to seem a threat. Why were they bothering him? Scenting him?
Snarling, Kipling threw himself off the porch and raced off into the forest, following scent and memory down the mountain to the valley where the dragons’ cabin resided. Barely had he cleared the forest when he saw them.
Their steel-colored scales flashed like silver in the moonlight as they slunk off the back porch and into the yard. They sat back on their haunches and waited for him. Behind them, on the porch, the dark haired man sat smoking a cigar.
Kipling bared his teeth and growled – but stayed well back. If he angered the dragons, it would take no effort on their part to kill him.
The dragons gave what seemed to be smiles, though with that much teeth showing in such hard faces Kipling wasn’t sure. They slunk toward him. Kipling continued to growl low as they circled him, slid and rubbed against him. He fought to keep growling, not to whimper as the sheer smell of them finally began to invade his anger, overwhelm his senses. Those scents. He wanted to drown in the smell of them, hot metal and untamable creature. He snarled when teeth nipped his side, jerking away – but that only sent him into the other dragon, who nipped in turn.
“Behave!” the dark haired man said sharply from the porch. “You have manners, use them.”
Making a series of sharp, chirping sounds the dragon bowed their heads in obedience. Then they started nudging him forward, across the yard. Kipling attempted to get away, go back, but one werewolf against two dragons had only one result.
“Pretty, pretty,” the dark haired man murmured as the dragons herded him right up to the porch. The man took a pull on his cigar and then set it aside. “Come here,” he said, voice gentle but firm – the tone of an Owner, a master. Kipling could not resist, not when he ached so deeply for an Alpha to follow, a pack to which he could belong.
Fingers sank into his fur, petting roughly, knowingly. Before he could stop himself, unable to help it, Kipling moved close enough to rest his head on the man’s thigh.
“Very pretty,” the man murmured, stroking his head and ears.
Kipling tensed as the dragons came close again, rubbing against him and the dark haired man, settling on either side of them.
“Now, now. These idiots won’t hurt you.” The man snorted. “No more than they hurt me, anyway.”
The dragons made a strange barking sound that Kipling realized a moment later was laughter.
“Let’s see you in human form, hmm?”
Unable to resist that commanding tone, Kipling backed up a bit and shifted. “What’s going on here?” he asked.
“My apologies,” the dark haired man said. “They were getting impatient. I told them they could try something tonight if they behaved and didn’t push too hard.” He swatted at each twin as they changed. “For the nipping, you miscreants – no cookies for a week.”
The twins pouted. Kipling boggled to see it. Dragons didn’t pout.
Kipling shook his head. “Try something? What are you talking about? Who are you?”
“My apologies,” the dark haired man said, flashing a rueful grin. “None of us are being very polite tonight. My name is Torvald Cross. Most people call me Tori, please feel free to do the same. These two trouble makers are Perilous and Siege.” He stroked each of the twins’ hair. “Sie and Ril, for short. You are Kipling Blue.”
“How did you know that?”
Tori chuckled. “It’s my cabin you’re renting; I prefer to know a bit about my tenant.”
Kipling tensed and made to back away, not liking the knowing look on Tori’s face – but Ril reached and snatched him close, and all of Kipling struggles only resulted in him being crowded onto the wide steps, sandwiched between Ril and Tori. A hand raked through his hair in a rough caress. Further struggles only resulted in a strong arm wrapping about his waist. “What is this all about?”
“Pretty wolf,” Ril murmured, nuzzling his throat. “Want to keep. Tori said we could.”
Tori rolled his eyes. “No, dragon. I said we could keep him if he agreed. There’s a difference.”
“What?” Kipling, rather displeased the word came out as something resembling a squeak. “I want to know what’s going on here!”
Tori laughed softly and picked his cigar back up. “My apologies. I’m used to them, I forget how overwhelming they can be to others. I…there is a lot to explain, and certainly if you want to leave we will not stop you. Before that, however…is it true you killed the Alpha female of the Blue pack? After you showed up and asked to rent the cabin…as I say, I like to know about anyone close to me. It is nothing personal…there are many who would kill to get their hands on Sie and Ril. I have to be careful. A lone wolf is strange to see…
Curling up around himself, refusing to be comforted by the arm wrapped about his waist, Kipling ducked his head as memories washed over him.
“Tell me what happened,” Tori said with gentle but firm command.
It soothed some deep ache in him to have commands to follow, to know at least in some small measure his place. To ever fully resist Tori would be far more difficult than defying his Alpha had been. He should be resisting, there was no good reason to trust Tori with anything. He couldn’t help it though, not when he’d spent every day since he’d fled longing for a place to call home.
“She was working with another pack…Colerain, to take out my former Alpha and join the pack up with Colerain’s. Nothing more than a stupid, greedy bitch. The Alpha wouldn’t believe me, neither would anyone else. I kept track of her movements, tried again and again to make someone believe me. They wouldn’t. Finally I sniffed out her plan to kill the Alpha – and killed her first. Then I ran. Fought off a few of them, but I think now I’m far enough away they won’t find me for some time.”
“Our pretty wolf,” Sie growled. “We saw you first.”
Tori snorted. “I saw him first, you idiot lizard.”
“Same difference,” Ril said, leaning in close to nuzzle Kipling again, voice whisper soft in his ear. “Our Kip.”
The soft words made him shiver. “I’m not—why—I don’t understand what’s going on here.”
Tori sank fingers into his hair and dragged him forward, covering his mouth with warm lips that tasted of sugar cookies and cigar smoke. Kipling moaned softly as Tori demanded entrance to his mouth, unable to resist the taste of that mouth, the intoxicating smells all around him. Wild grass and aloe, hot metal and the tang of wild animal. He whimpered as Tori plundered and possessed his mouth, and Kipling had the strange feeling the man was staking a claim.
“You are a pretty wolf,” Tori said with a pleased hum as he pulled away. “I am astonished you’ve no mate.”
Kipling started to reply that no one had wanted the mildest and seemingly weakest of Alpha Blue’s assistants, but a sharp bite to the back of his throat changed the words into a startled gasp.
“My turn,” Sie said, leaning across Tori’s lap to take a kiss of his own – tangy, sharp, almost burning. Sharp teeth dug into his lip, not quite drawing blood. Kipling struggled to keep his sanity. It was ridiculous – to be kissing not one man but a man and two dragons. They felt and tasted and smelled so good though. So much like home it left him terrified.
He drew a ragged breath as Sie let him go, only to be shifted so Ril could have his turn. Warm hands held and steadied him, more hands than he’d ever thought would be involved in such things.
“Why?” he managed when Ril finally let him go. “You don’t even know me.”
Tori gave him a smile that sent shivers down his spine. “Oh, I have an eye for these things. Something told me you’d do well in our unorthodox little family. The dragons need a playmate besides each other, someone who can mostly keep up with them and doesn’t mind they play rough. Wolves don’t do well alone. You need a pack – though if you choose to go back to Blue if and when everything is cleared up, we will not stop you.”
No. Certainty cut through Kipling, so deep and sure it took what remained of his breath away. He didn’t want to go back to Blue. They’d betrayed him when he’d most needed someone to believe him. Blue was no longer his pack, no longer his home.
“You’re making this decision awfully fast,” he managed.
The dragons chuckled. “Tori’s always quick to decide things.”
“It’s called being decisive, and hasn’t my decisive nature brought you a pretty Kip?”
Kipling snorted. “I’m not pretty.”
“Pretty Kip,” Sie said, licking at his lips. “Want to play.”
“Inside,” Tori said.
“Outside,” Ril challenged. “He smells like the earth, the trees.” He bundled Kipling close and covered his face in sharp, hungry kisses. Not waiting for anyone to disagree or order otherwise, he all but shoved them off the steps and to the ground. His brother was right beside him, both of them all but attacking in their eagerness to “play”.
Tori laughed softly from the porch, stamping out his cigar. “Dragons. Someone come give me a kiss before I get jealous.”
“Silly Tori,” Ril replied, pulling away from Kip to wrap himself around Tori before dragging him off the porch.
“Dragons, I’m too old to roll around in the dirt with you. Inside.”
For reply, Ril merely kissed him again, then pulled him down to tangle with Sie and Kipling. “Tori’s not old.”
“You brats are going to be the death of me.” Tori kissed each of them in turn, then descended upon Kipling. “So do you want to stay and play, pretty wolf?”
Kipling stared up into eyes that carried a hint of red even in the darkness surrounding them. “It’s probably dangerous. They’ll come after me.”
On either side of them the dragons laughed.
“All right, so maybe not dangerous. I…” Oh, who was he kidding? Here was a chance for a home, if only for a night. Some part of him whispered it would be far longer than that, and he wanted to believe it. “Yes. I want to stay and play.”
The dragons cheered, and Kipling couldn’t help but laugh into Tori’s mouth as they kissed.
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Date: 2006-12-27 03:31 am (UTC)*siiiigh* You never fail to please. ♥
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Date: 2006-12-28 04:25 am (UTC)My cookie! I thought of you when the twins decided to fixate on cookies. I have not harassed you lately.<3
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Date: 2007-01-01 01:42 am (UTC)Embrace.