Dragonfury 02 - Fury of Ice

rolling around inside his head.
    Like a mind reader, the guy murmured, “One thing you need to know about our kind, Mac. We don’t tolerate sunlight. You go out now? You’ll get fried.”
    “Shit.” Guess now he knew why he didn’t sleep much. He’d always been that way, staying up all night, falling into bed when morning lit to catch a few Zs. It explained a lot, actually, and as the puzzle piece clicked into place, his brain came back online. Along with the mental focus, his vision evened out. He studied the guy standing in front of him. Dark hair. Green eyes. With the intensity of a lightning strike and the muscle to back it up, he looked human enough, but…yeah, not quite. “You’re Bastian. Rikar’s commander.”
    “Good…you remember.” Dropping his hands, Bastian nodded, like he approved. “The change is an ass-kicker. Most Dragonkind males come out of it blank even when they know what’s coming…even if they’ve been trained beforehand.”
    Dragonkind males . The words gave him pause. Why? He didn’t know exactly because sure as shit, he was one of them. Frowning, he flexed his talon again, then glanced down and got a load of…good God, look at that thing. A tail, tricked out with razor-sharp edges: top, bottom, around the tip. Trying not to flip out, he curled the length around his paws, took a harder look. Wow. It looked lethal, and if it hadn’t freaked him out, he might’ve thought it was cool.
    Awe rose along with disbelief. He glanced at Bastian. “How…I mean…Jesus fucking Christ. I’m thirty-four. How could I not have known I’m not…”
    “Human?”
    His throat went tight as Mac nodded.
    “You are…half human. Born of a human female and a Dragonkind male.” Stepping up close, Bastian rapped his knuckles against his shoulder. High-pitched sound pinged, echoing as though he’d just struck steel instead of his fancy new skin. “I don’t know how you were missed, but your sire didn’t know about you. No way he would’ve left you in the human world if he’d known you existed.”
    The old hurt surfaced. It always did when he thought of his father, a man he’d never met…who’d never claimed him. Rescued him from a world where no one gave a damn what happened to him. But the idea that the man he’d dreamed of meeting hadn’t abandoned him after all? Jesus, the knowledge filled the void, the empty corner of his heart where hurt had lived for so long.
    Maybe it was bullshit. Maybe it wasn’t. Mac didn’t care. He liked the new version better than the one he’d lived with his entire life. His mother dead on a hospital operating table. No family to claim him. All the years spent at Sacred Heart Orphanage.
    Home sweet fucking home.
    “I know it doesn’t make sense to you right now, but had your sire known…” Bastian trailed off, and the pause spoke volumes. The guy understood exactly what he felt. What he relived day after day. All the pain he buried deep, trying to forget. “He would’ve come for you.”
    Tears burned the back of his throat. Goddamn it. He’d turned into a frickin’ sissy, drawing comfort from a man he didn’t know. But Bastian provided it without hesitation. No doubt about it. The guy was tight in the head, solid in the heart, and man, if he didn’t pull it together in the next three seconds, they’d break into a bawling rendition of “Kumbaya.” Sniffle-sniffle-sob-sob.
    Mac cleared his throat. “Look, I’m—”
    A tingle swept the back of his neck, rattling the razor blade along his spine. Mac tensed, his spidey sense putting him on high alert. As he watched and waited, a shadow flew in, landing on the balcony beyond the patio door.
    What the hell was that? He thought they were alone, but more had joined the party. Now all he sensed was anger. His eyes narrowed. Yup, definitely. A load of pissed off was coming down the pipe in his direction. Shifting right, he stepped around Bastian and into a crouch. Getting low seemed like the thing to do…the best bet when under attack.
    With a muttered “fuck,” Bastian slapped a palm to his chest. “Ease up, my man. Nothing doing.”
    Bullshit. Something was definitely “doing.”
    The patio door slid open. Light exploded through the opening, blinding Mac. With a curse, he squinted, trying to get a read on what was coming at him. A no-go. All he could see was a bright band of sunlight on the horizon. Frickin’ eyes. Stupid daylight. Like he needed an eyeful of spots right