Fury of Fire (Dragonfury Series #1)

man, who knew a waffle could taste so good? Daimler was a wizard…the god of culinary delight.
    “So B…” Shifting in his seat, Rikar looked away from her as she took another bite. “Time to vote?”
    “Sounds good,” Bastian said, his voice deepening as he watched her eat. “You’re up, Rikar.”
    “Hang on a minute.” Chasing a drop of maple syrup, Myst licked it off her bottom lip. As Bastian drew a long breath, she asked, “What are you voting on?”
    “The infant needs a name.” His focus trained on her mouth, he watched her chew for a second before dragging his gaze back to hers. “I thought you might like to help us find the right one for him.”
    “For real?”
    Bastian nodded.
    A half-eaten piece of waffle in her mouth, overwhelmed by Bastian’s generosity, Myst got a little misty-eyed. The giving of a name was serious business, the first in a long line of important decisions that would ensure her angel’s welfare. A name meant love, signaled caring and longtime commitment.
    And wow. How much of a sap was she?
    Still, as she glanced down at the sleeping infant, she couldn’t deny the sentiment…or how much she appreciated the gesture. By including her in the process, Bastian was giving her a gift. One she didn’t know how to repay except by…
    Oh, great. A little thing…the first pothole in what she suspected would be a long line of them. “Thank you.”
    His mouth curved. “My pleasure.”
    “Hmm…all right.” Pale eyes narrowed, Rikar rubbed his hands together. “Attila.”
    With a gasp, Myst threw him a look of outrage.
    Rikar glanced at her, all doe-eyed innocence. “What? It’s a great name.”
    “If you’re a mass murderer, maybe,” she countered, unable to believe he would suggest such a thing. Attila the Hun? Forget it. No way she would allow them to name her angel that.
    “She’s gotta point, buddy.” When Myst thanked him, Venom grinned at her, then threw his preference into the ring. “I vote for Torture…then we can call him Torch for short.”
    Myst stared at him, open-mouthed. He couldn’t be serious. What kind of name was Torch? A bad one, that’s what.
    “Nah, too obvious. What about Ironhide?”
    Rikar snorted. “You can’t name him after an Autobot, Sloan.”
    “Why not?” Sloan frowned at his friend. “ The Transformers is an awesome movie.”
    Myst bristled. “No way I’m voting for—”
    “Viper,” Wick said with a barely audible growl that made her skin crawl.
    “I like it,” Rikar said. “Good one, man. It’s a definite contender.”
    Over her dead body. Which pretty much summed up how she felt about every suggestion they made, as names like Blitz and Hemlock made the rounds. Dear God, had they lost their flipping minds? Imagine naming a precious baby Grim. Grim, for pity’s sake!
    “Mayhem,” Bastian said, finally tossing his choice in the ring.
    Myst stared at him. “You can’t be serious.”
    “Man, that’s a good one, too.” Venom scratched the top of this head. “I can’t decide…Viper or Mayhem. So, which one?”
    “None. Neither!” She glared at the lot of them.
    “Well, if you’re going to KO all our ideas, female,” Sloan said, looking affronted, “make a suggestion.”
    Chewing on the inside of her bottom lip, Myst thought fast. She needed to come up with something…right now. If she didn’t, the great barbarian horde would choose one of those awful names and—
    She had it. The perfect one. “Gregor.”
    Five pairs of eyes narrowed as they mulled over her choice.
    “It’s Scottish…a strong name,” she said, talking fast to convince them. “It was my grandfather’s.” Her voice went soft as she remembered the gentle man who’d helped raise her. Never having known her father, Grandpa G had been her lifeline, a solid role model in her unconventional upbringing. “He fought in the war. I had all his medals framed. They’re hanging on the wall in my apartment.”
    Okay, so that was a little more personal than she intended, but…really. Her angel deserved a better name than Viper . And if telling them a bit about Grandpa G—the war hero—helped sway them? Well, she wasn’t too proud to fight dirty.
    But, as the silence stretched and Bastian’s friends continued to stare, Myst wondered if she’d made a mistake. She didn’t know these guys or what they were capable of…although, the word “ruthless” came to mind. Maybe sharing family history or anything else was a bad idea. Maybe she