Miles (Dragon Heartbeats Book 6) Page 8

  “It’s a lot to wrap my head around.”

  “I know. But I’m here to help.”

  “Will you ever get tired of helping?”

  “I doubt it. You strike me as a fairly hard-headed person—but so am I.”

  Mary entered without knocking.

  I got up, as though sitting on the bed was improper. As though I had a single thing to explain to her. Even so, it seemed like the right thing to do.

  “I understand we had a close call with you, young lady.” She wasn’t entirely stern, however.

  There was a bit of a gleam in her eye, as though she were talking to a naughty child. She had loosened up considerably since the situation with Martina.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Oh, my dear.” She shook her head with a mournful sigh. “I don’t know anyone who would blame you. I only hope you don’t get it into your head ever again. Phillip wants to x-ray you, to check on the status of your healing and determine whether you need fresh casts.”

  “I’ve already told her,” I murmured.

  Mary’s eyes widened the slightest bit. “I see. And you’re… all right?” she asked Savannah.

  “I won’t pitch myself into the sea again, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  The three of us laughed.

  “Then, Miles did a good job. Men can be like bulls in a china shop, can’t they? So indelicate.”

  Savannah was very nearly radiant when our eyes met.

  “That’s not a problem here,” she assured Mary, her eyes glowing.

  14

  Savannah

  “It’s a good thing I brought you in when I did,” Phillip fretted as he helped me onto the table. “This storm looks big enough to knock out the power.”

  “Really? Isn’t there a generator or something?” I couldn’t imagine the entire place going dark, all at once. Alone with one or two dozen dragons. No big deal. I was sure girls like me went through situations like that all the time.

  It was enough to light my imagination on fire. There were a million questions clamoring to be voiced, and probably a million questions which would stem from the answers. On and on. It would take forever to ask them all.

  Forever.

  Butterflies fluttered in my stomach at the thought of it.

  Forever.

  Why did my head keep going in that direction? Like there was something between Miles and me. We were friends, I guessed, and I owed him my life twice over. That didn’t bind me to him—and yet, I felt bound.

  It wasn’t the same as being bound to Antonio. I was a prisoner then, miserable and beaten down. Any fluttering in my stomach when I thought of him was nausea, not excitement.

  The tight feeling that used to spread through my chest, like an elephant was sitting on it, when I pictured myself married to Antonio wasn’t there when I imagined a future with Miles.

  But it was all too crazy. He wasn’t even human—not really. I had no idea how he lived or what he and his family did with their time. They could’ve made a practice out of eating humans who crossed their path for all I knew. They could’ve lived in huts in the woods, or out in the middle of nowhere. No electricity, no internet. How would I survive something like that?

  Then again, they did seem fairly well-acclimated and savvy. Was I trying to talk myself into thinking something could work out between us? And why? It wasn’t like he’d given me any indication of wanting to see me again once we both left the island.

  He doesn’t need to. Stop kidding yourself. You know you feel this, too.

  I squeezed my eyes shut as Phillip adjusted the machinery.

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  “Oh, just fine,” I smiled, though my eyes were still closed.

  I was afraid to face the obvious. The way Miles looked at me, the way we kissed… it was real. It had to be. Maybe it had something to do with who he was, what he was. If we were meant to be, the strength of my certainty would only make sense.

  I sighed.

  Just listen to yourself. You’re behaving like you live in a fairytale. You of all people should know better.

  “All right,” Phillip called out. “Stay very still.”

  I held my breath, going as still as I could as he took pictures of my insides.

  Healing a compound fracture in roughly a week. Nobody would ever believe it. I hardly did myself. A dragon could make a mint through selling their blood, if it was really that potent.

  With the room as silent as it was and with me holding my breath, I could hear the storm raging outside.

  It had hit so quickly, tearing through the island. I hadn’t been paying attention to the weather, of course, so it was all a surprise. Not a hurricane, or else the windows would’ve been boarded, but still strong enough to make me wince when the thunder rolled.

  Until it became clear that I wasn’t hearing thunder.

  “What’s that?” I called out, my voice shrill, even to my own ears.

  Phillip rushed to my side and pushed the equipment out of the way. “Come on. We have to get under cover. You’re fine—I can’t take the casts off now, because they’ll hear the saw.”

  “Who’s they?”

  I didn’t really need to ask. I knew who it was. He had come back for me. And he’d brought his friends.

  “You know better than I do,” he whispered, and we crossed the room as quickly as I could with a cast on my leg.

  I wanted to tear the damn thing off and run, but he was right. They might hear it. He locked us into the small, windowed room where he’d waited for my x-rays to process and motioned for me to get under a table before turning off the lights.

  “They’re out there,” I breathed, halfway between terror and rage.

  Who the hell did he think he was? I had underestimated him. Somebody must’ve given me away, somehow.

  My hair hung in my face as I knelt on all fours, cursing how awkward it was to hide with casts on. Couldn’t they have waited until Phillip removed them? What was I even thinking? People could’ve been dying, and I was worrying about my discomfort.

  A fresh round of gunfire made me jump.

  “Don’t worry about our guys,” Phillip whispered, crouching beside me. “We’re all ex-military. Anybody who dared come in here would regret it. I almost feel sorry for them.”

  “Don’t feel too sorry,” I muttered, barely managing to keep from covering my ears as another burst of shots rang out. “They’re getting closer.”

  “It’ll be fine,” he replied, but his tone was tight enough to tell me he feared otherwise.

  He reminded me of an animal waiting to pounce—or to run from the hunter.

  He raised himself up just enough to look over the edge of the window. “Still in the clear.”

  “Do you have any weapons in here?”

  He shook his head, grimacing. “No, never thought to keep any in here. Never really had to use these facilities much before you came along.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize. None of this is your fault.” A reassuring smile started to spread across his weathered face, but was instantly cut off when the door leading into the x-ray room from the hall burst inward.

  I covered my mouth with my hand to stifle a shriek.

  Phillip held a finger to his lips, both of us making ourselves as small as we could.

  In his case, it wasn’t much good—while he wasn’t as large as Miles and the rest, he was hardly a small man.

  The knob rattled.

  We exchanged a look.

  He touched his finger to his lips again, then slid out from under the table fast enough to keep me from trying to stop him. Not that I could’ve if I’d tried. I couldn’t breathe when he stood up, facing the window.

  I couldn’t see above his knees, but I imagined he was staring down whoever prowled on the other side.

  “What do you want?” he barked, sounding for all the world like a soldier on the battlefield. It seemed funny, feeling pride for a man I didn’t k
now. But he had saved me. And he was saving me again.

  Or trying to.

  The glass wasn’t bulletproof. I screamed when bullets shattered the glass and shattered him.

  He hit the floor, eyes already glazing over. They stared at me, unseeing.

  My fault my fault my fault.

  The lock wasn’t much use after someone shot it out, and the door swung open.

  I was a caged animal, or as good as, trapped under a table. Nowhere to go. I could only wait for the man who strode into the room to find me and pull me out.

  Glass crunched under his feet as he took his time, drawing out the tension until I wanted to scream for him to get it over with. I didn’t need to go that far, for he bent over to look at me.

  He looked vaguely familiar.

  One of Antonio’s henchmen. A cold-blooded murderer, too.

  “Look who I found,” he sneered.

  15

  Miles

  If it weren’t for the storm, they’d never have gotten as far into the building as they did. As it was, the scrambled security feed only revealed the intruders when they were already well into storming the place.

  “Arm yourselves!” Mary ordered, tossing out rifles as she’d toss out candy, her men immediately tapping into their military training as they ran out to face our foes.

  I took a rifle for myself, ready to blow somebody’s head off. I had one particular person in mind.

  “Where are the girls?” Gate asked, snatching a rifle at random and joining me as we followed the soldiers.

  “I don’t know! I’m not even sure where Savannah is. I think she was getting an x-ray.”

  “She’ll be safe with Phillip.”

  We pressed our backs to the wall before rounding the corner which led to the lobby.

  The rat-a-tat-tat of semi-automatic fire rang through the air, and I could just make out several of our guys taking cover behind furniture before returning fire.

  I hoped he was right. I hoped the girls had the sense to lock themselves somewhere.

  The dragon roared for release.

  It would be so easy if I could just let him go and tear through the room, taking two or three of them out with a single sweep of my wings. They would think twice before charging in on innocent, unwitting people again—if they lived to think about anything at all. But even a dragon was susceptible to that sort of firepower. We weren’t immortal.

  Savannah.

  I only had time to picture her in my head before rushing out to try and kill some of these bastards.

  The lights flickered on and off, thanks to the gusting winds outside, but it was easy for a dragon to see in the dark.

  Several of them had taken cover behind the front desk, the tops of their heads barely visible over the ledge.

  I crouched behind an armchair and wished like hell it was a more substantial piece of furniture. As if stuffing and foam would stop a bullet.

  I could only hope their eyesight was worse than mine in the dark as I aimed over the top of the chair and fired into the reception area.

  Blood spattered the white wall, and one of the heads disappeared, then another.

  I heard screams, more gunfire, and the smell of blood spread through the air like a cloud.

  Two of them barreled through the lobby, covered by another pair of shooters, and managed to make it through without injury.

  I wanted to go after them but didn’t want to leave myself vulnerable, either.

  A round whizzed by my ear close enough to make it ring.

  I pressed myself closer to the floor, peering out from beneath the chair.

  I caught sight of several pairs of dress shoes—not the boots so commonly worn by Mary’s team and certainly nothing worn by members of the clan.

  I fired at them, and when their owners fell to the floor, I shot anything I could possibly hit.

  “Got her! Tell Antonio! I got her!” The man who shouted down the corridor nearly crowed in triumph as he brought out his trophy.

  She hobbled on her cast, almost hopping on her good leg as the blood-stained bastard led her by the arm.

  I’d kill him, too.

  Close behind them came Ainsley, Leslie, Martina and the others, herded by three additional armed men.

  Gate made a strangled sound from his position only feet from where I watched the horror unfolding.

  “Hold your fire.”

  The voice was clear, in command of the situation. Or so he thought. The coward had hidden himself in the office, behind the desk where I’d killed two of his men. He stepped out, his face twisting in an expression of disgust as he stepped over the bodies in his way. “I have what I came for, and I won’t take her out of here with any injuries.”

  “She’s already injured,” the man who held her pointed out.

  “Stating the obvious, as always,” Antonio sneered.

  I peered out over the top of the chair, watching, straining to hear over the ringing in my ear and the roar of the dragon in my head to release him. I wanted to.

  I glanced at Gate, eyebrows raised, but he shook his head.

  I understood why when I looked back at Antonio—and the pistol he pointed at Savannah.

  “We meet again,” he crooned, as though he were speaking to someone he was in love with.

  Or as though he was toying with her. More likely the latter than the former, as I doubted he possessed a soul or the ability to love.

  “Leave the rest of them alone,” she spat. There was more power in her voice than I had ever heard.

  The look which came over his face told me he’d never heard her that way, either. “Well, well. The cat found her claws. I’m glad.” He stepped closer, until their bodies nearly touched.

  She held her chin up, defiant, while he sneered down at her.

  Somehow, his linen suit had remained unblemished.

  “Glad?” she smirked.

  “Oh, yes. I much prefer a woman with spirit. Didn’t you know that? It’s so much more satisfying to break them.”

  I’d had more than enough of him by now.

  “Leave her go,” I warned, standing with my rifle aimed at his heart.

  He only laughed. “You! I should’ve known. You seemed like the most interested when we met. The mouthiest. If you hadn’t been so mouthy, you wouldn’t have made me suspicious. I wouldn’t have had to do any of this.”

  He turned back to Savannah with a sigh. “Then again, nobody would’ve had to die tonight if you hadn’t run away. Don’t you know by now it’s pointless to be so stupid?”

  “Shut up,” she hissed. “You’re pathetic. You can’t earn a woman’s love, so you would rather own her and break her down.”

  “Love?” he sneered. “Never had any time for it. It doesn’t pay my bills.”

  One of the men guarding the girls spoke up. “What should we do with these?”

  “What do you think?” Antonio grinned, winking. “Then, get rid of ‘em.”

  “Don’t you dare,” Gate warned, stepping out from behind the sofa he’d used for cover.

  I watched the men around us, making sure none of them opened fire on him.

  “Who’s gonna stop us?” Antonio asked, aiming the gun at Savannah’s head. “Don’t take another step. And if any of you fuckers think about firing on me or another one of my men, you’re all dead. The women first. I’ll make you watch what we do to them before that though.”

  I had never heard such depravity, had never known it could exist. And Savannah was supposed to marry him. No wonder she had jumped.

  The dragon was dangerously close to the surface.

  I wouldn’t be able to hold him back much longer. And I didn’t want to. Nothing would’ve pleased me more than watching all of them shit their pants when they saw what they were really dealing with. But there was that gun at her head, a gun that could be fired in the blink of an eye. He might pull the trigger out of sheer surprise.

  We were frozen, all of us, watching each other. Waiting to see who would blink
first.

  The blowing in of the doors took us all by surprise, and several of Antonio’s men ducked with arms raised over their heads to shield themselves from flying glass.

  Wind whipped through the lobby, bringing in leaves and flowers which had been ripped from the trees and ground.

  I turned my attention to Savannah in time to see her throw her cast-covered arm in Antonio’s face, knocking him off-guard and causing him to drop the gun.

  Blood gushed from his broken nose, and he screamed curses at her as he pulled a handful of her hair to hold her in place.

  She screamed, hand flying up to his wrist, but he only pulled harder.

  I didn’t will the shift to come on. It came on its own—mine, Gate’s, and every other clan member in the room.

  I felt my body stretch, unfurl, rise to its full height.

  The high ceilings accommodated this. Before ten seconds passed, the room was full of roaring, snarling dragons.

  Screaming filled the lobby, rising over the rushing wind.

  I reached for the man who’d brought Savannah to us and roared in triumph as his ribs and back crunched in my curled claws.

  Tossing him aside like a rag doll, I scanned the room for Antonio. He was all I wanted. The others were taken care of.

  There he was. Running away like a coward. I caught him before he reached the doors, picking him up by his legs and swinging him back and forth. He needed to find out how it felt when somebody played with him, instead of being the player.

  “Stop! Please! Oh, help me!” he blubbered, his eyes as wide as saucers and his face covered in blood.

  Like all men of his kind, he was nothing. Just a bully, an animal, a weak little nobody.

  I held him close to my face, sniffing at his blood, wondering how it could smell the same as any other blood even though he was little more than a monster.

  He shook, begged, wept, but I only observed without emotion. Like watching a bug under a magnifying glass. He had hurt so many. Killed so many, destroyed so many lives.

  I wanted to throw it in his face, but I couldn’t do it as the dragon. I could only watch and listen to his pleas and enjoy them.