Dragonfury 02 - Fury of Ice

warrior born and bred. So he killed the temptation to give in and swallowed the plea. But as the door clanged closed behind her, his cell got a little smaller, and the collar much, much tighter.

Chapter Ten
     
    The murmur came from somewhere south of sanity, pulling Angela through thick mental fog. Floating inside her own skull, she kept her eyes closed and listened to the voice. A hint of an accent in the undertone, the timbre broke through the noise inside her head. She clung to each note. Listened to the pitch and swell. Let it hold her high. Away from the pain. Away from terror. Away from the unknown.
    Except that wasn’t right.
    She knew who—correction…make that what —held her. Remembered the beach as she’d come to, felt the swaying glide of flight and the hard scales against her cheek. Another dragon; white scales to the rat-bastard’s black. That had to be a good sign, right? Heroes and saviors always wore white. Or did that only happen in fairy tales?
    Angela frowned. She couldn’t remember. Her brain was stuck deep in fluff and mental feather down. Not much made sense. Not the flight. Not the warmth of the dragon’s scales. Nor the fact he held her gently in the cradle of his talons.
    Maybe that’s why she wasn’t screaming. Wasn’t struggling. Was just floating, lost inside her own mind while her white dragon in shining scales talked to her. God, it was nice; the depth of his voice, the words, and how safe he made her feel.
    Which was just plain nutso. But sometimes, Angela decided, crazy made sense.
    “Just a little further, angel,” her dragon said, soft tone full of reassurance. And there she went again, falling into each syllable, taking solace from the sound of his voice. “Almost there.”
    Almost where ? She shifted in the palm of his talon and cracked her eyes open. Yellow flashed up ahead, pushing a gentle glow through the darkness. Angela squinted. Was she really seeing that? Or were her eyes playing tricks, screwing with reality? Seemed like a good guess because that looked like a cliff wall. Or the inside of a tunnel, one with jagged outcroppings and narrow ledges.
    His wings angled, the dragon swung around another corner. The light became stronger, illuminating a wide landing pad. An abrupt shift. A moment suspended above the solid rock outcropping, and then…
    Touchdown. To the accompaniment of claws scraping stone.
    All right. Now was probably a good time to start screaming. Or searching for a weapon. Anything to hold him at bay. But something malfunctioned, crossing her mental wiring. She didn’t want to do any of those things. Didn’t feel the need to, either. All she wanted was to hang onto the voice, to hear him talk to her some more.
    “R,” she whispered, a soft call for comfort.
    “Shh, baby,” he murmured. “It’s okay. I’m gonna get you help.”
    Help sounded good. Excellent, really, because…God. Now that she was more alert, her leg hurt like hell and, as the pain poked at her like a bully with a sharp stick, each breath came a little faster. A little harder, one on top of the other.
    With a whimper, she reached for him, needing something solid to hang onto as she opened her eyes. She expected to see a dragon. A man’s pale gaze met hers instead, and wham! Sparks lit off, exploding into a kaleidoscope of color inside her head. The wall around the memory—the one she hadn’t been able to touch—collapsed, and images flashed like playing cards. McGovern’s bar. The cracking sound of billiard balls, the gorgeous guy making her laugh, helping her relax and drop her guard. His callused hands on her bare skin. The soft rasp of his whiskered cheek against her own…the unbelievable pleasure.
    “Rikar.” His name came out like a question, though she didn’t mean it like one. She remembered now. “You’re a…big…jerk.”
    Cradling her in his lap, his mouth curved. “Bang-on, angel.”
    Not true. Angela knew it, but man, if felt good to give him a hard time. The show of spirit meant she was still alive. And as her focus sharpened, her mind followed suit, turning over enough to give him heck for McGovern’s and the fact she’d woken up alone…with a chunk of her memory missing. Something weird—and okay, half-wonderful too—had happened between them that night.
    So, yup. Whatever the details, he owed her and would be the “jerk” for a while longer. At least out loud. In secret, she’d call him awesome. He’d come after her when no one