Dragonfury 02 - Fury of Ice

sun. Not that MacCord cared. Oh, no. The male was too busy swearing and…yeah. Now he was hammering Venom’s talon with his fists.
    Not the brightest move. Considering Venom’s temper.
    “Hey, Ven . ” Increasing his wing speed, Rikar flew alongside his comrade. “Wanna play hot potato?”
    “No time…we’re almost there,” Venom growled, shaking his talon, and the shit out of MacCord. “Otherwise, I’d toss the blockhead over to you . ”
    Banking right, Rikar followed his buddy, coming down through wispy clouds and cold air. Myst’s building lay dead ahead. A five-story walk-up, the brick glowed pink with the coming dawn, tall, arching windows nothing but black holes in its face.
    “Around back,” B said, bringing up the rear. “Fifth-floor balcony.”
    Extending his wings to full capacity, Rikar caught air, using the webbing to slow his flight. As he rounded the corner of the building, he mind-spoke to Bastian, “Sloan got something waiting for us?”
    “He called an escort service . ”
    Venom huffed. “A hooker?”
    “MacCord needs a female . ” Waiting for Venom to clear out of the way, Rikar circled left into a holding pattern. “A professional…one we can pay to service him and mind-scrub after.”
    Shifting to human form in midair, Venom dropped to the balcony below. As his combat boots connected with concrete, he ignored the cop’s curse, tossed him over his shoulder, and headed toward the patio doors. “Good plan . ”
    “I hope so , ” B said, the grumble in his voice coming through mind-speak loud and clear. “Myst’s not gonna be happy when she finds out I let MacCord use her bed . ”
    Rikar’s snort turned into a laugh—the idea B was afraid of a female hitting his funny bone—as he transformed, boots touching down on the balcony.
    Landing beside him, Bastian threw him a perturbed look. “Just wait until you have a female of your own to keep happy. You won’t laugh then.”
    The thought sobered Rikar fast. Despite the teasing, he respected the hell out of Bastian for risking it all: for loving Myst without reservation, for being brave enough to trust that he could save her life when she went into labor with his son. Until recently, none of them had thought it possible.
    Females always died birthing Dragonkind, without exception.
    At least that’s what they’d believed before learning more about energy-fuse. The bond allowed a male to feed his female healing energy. The divine connection was rare—a magical, emotional, physical force of nature—a pairing so powerful it joined a male’s life force to his female’s. Which was good news, except for one thing. Energy-fuse couldn’t be forced. It wasn’t enough to love a female, or for her to love a male in return. The link was a mystical one, and acceptance was required from the magic in a dragon male’s DNA.
    No easy feat. Their dragon halves were notoriously finicky. Like a master lock, the beast required the right key—or rather, the right female—for energy-fuse to take shape and form.
    And as he stood staring at his best friend beneath an awakening sky, the truth struck with the force of a hammer. He’d give anything to possess what B had found. Acceptance. A shared life with a female he revered enough to think of always and, well…yeah. Even be a little afraid of on the reaction front.
    Hell. He was envious. When had that happened? Black and white wasn’t so black-n-white anymore. Somewhere along the line, he’d shuffled the crayons in his box, coloring his world ho-hum, pansy-ass gray.
    And Angela? She was the bright yellow in a pencil case full of shadows, and as he walked toward the loft door—prepared to guide the cop through his change—Rikar knew what his life would be without her.
    Cold. Dark. Nothing but gray.
    He snorted. Just his luck. Trust a female to screw up a—
    “Ah…Rikar?”
    “Yeah, buddy?”
    “Gonna need some help with Boy Wonder here,” Venom said, sounding out of breath. A crack ricocheted as though an elbow had just met the side of someone’s skull. With a grunt, Venom rasped, “Jesus, he’s already—”
    A growl rolled out onto the balcony. Someone shrieked. With a “fuck,” Rikar dodged right, shoving B out of the way as a kitchen chair sailed through the open patio door. It smashed into the balcony wall, crumpling against concrete. Another crash was followed by a couple of thuds and the scrape of boots on wooden floorboards.
    “Oh, my God!”
    The female yelp