Dragonfury 02 - Fury of Ice

it. Not with Rikar. She wanted what they’d had this afternoon. A wicked good argument that ended in a spectacular round of lovemaking. Angela hummed, remembering his touch, reliving his taste, wanting another romp with him oh, say…five minutes ago.
    Giving her head a shake, she gave herself a mental jolt. Freaking guy. He’d turned her into a nymphomaniac. Not a bad thing if only he were around to take care of the problem.
    “Concentrate, you idiot,” she said, hoping the sound of her voice would KO her sex fixation. No such luck. Rikar stayed with her, but at least she managed to see straight enough to sight the target. “One more bull’s-eye, then it’s homeward bound.”
    Or rather, kitchen bound.
    Daimler was cooking up a storm, trying to keep Mac’s stomach full. Angela grinned against the M25’s stock. She’d never seen her partner eat that much. Then again, he’d been through a huge change, so she guessed they were in for a new normal. Fine by her. She didn’t mind. Although the whole sun allergy Dragonkind had going on bothered her. Especially since she was outside shooting alone.
    She didn’t like it. Not because it frightened her. She was okay flying solo for a few hours and safe inside Black Diamond’s energy shield. Angela just missed his company…and her spotter. Mac always came with her to the gun range. Always coached her through each shot, gauging the windage, the distance to target, giving her pointers on grip and trigger-finger speed.
    Thank God tonight would be different.
    She wouldn’t be laid out on the ridge waiting for Lothair to show all by herself. Mac and Forge would be with her every step of the way while Rikar and the other Nightfuries drew the rat-bastard into the trap. They’d been over the plan a million times. Or at least it seemed like it. Every time Rikar got anywhere near her, he drilled her, making her repeat each detail until her head ached and she wanted to hit him.
    Or shag him again.
    Both strategies worked really, really well. But the second option was her favorite and usually the go-to plan. He never said no to making love to her. Which always made him forget about the plan and shut his yap.
    Hallelujah. She needed the peace and quiet from time to time.
    Which was the reason she’d come out to the shooting range and was currently KOing members of the squash family. Setting the scope’s crosshairs on the fruit, Angela drew in a steady breath, exhaled slow, and squeezed the trigger. One potato. Two pota—
    Splat!
    Bingo. Mission accomplished. Pumpkin annihilated.
    Angela pushed the bolt up, then forward, and emptied the rifle’s chamber. The casing ejected, the chick-chick sounding brutal amid nature’s charm, the creak of tree branches, and the soft twitter of birdcalls above her head.
    Policing her brass, she picked up the 308 shell casing and, rolling to her feet, slipped it into her side pocket of her army pants. Angela’s lips twitched. The BDUs (aka battle dress uniform) were another gift. One Rikar insisted she wear when she stepped outside the lair. She didn’t need to be camouflaged while on Black Diamond grounds. No way the Razorbacks could find her here, but…
    Whatever.
    If wearing the camo gear made Rikar feel better, she’d do it without hesitation or complaint. She understood the concern—his need to shelter and protect her—because she worried just as much about him. Maybe more.
    She wasn’t the one going out night after night to fight the rogue idiots mucking up the planet. Rikar was, and although Angela knew he was more than capable of taking care of himself, she worried anyway. Had paced around the lair, drunk way too much coffee, praying he returned home safely at dawn for the past week.
    And that wouldn’t change any time soon. At least not if she stayed at Black Diamond. But who knew, right? Circumstances changed. Relationships tanked all the time. Particularly when things went unsaid between couples.
    Cradling the gun, Angela headed for the lair, trying not to worry about that too. She didn’t want to doubt Rikar, but uncertainty was circling. Not on her end. She wanted him, but other than saying he wouldn’t let her go—and making love to her every chance he got—he’d gone silent on the commitment front. Hadn’t told her he loved her. Hadn’t asked her to marry him. Hadn’t mentioned the future at all. Well, except to plan how to take down the rat-bastard, and well…crap. That just wasn’t good enough.
    She