Playing with Fyre (Alien Dragon Shifter Series Book 3) Read online

  She returned his hard kisses, moaning against his mouth, the sexy sound vibrating through muscle and bone. She snaked her hands under his shirt to caress his back and chest. The light scrape of fingernails reminded him of her talons and sent another furnace blast coursing through him.

  How had a few kisses gotten so hot so fast?

  He wanted to strip off her gown, tear off his own clothes, sink to the floor, and make love to her while the ship careened among the stars. He grabbed her caressing hand and brought it to his mouth. He kissed her fingers and then her palm before gently closing her hand into a fist. Under the starlight, her golden eyes were bemused, unguarded, passionate, the combination almost unraveling his good intentions.

  “I want you. So much. But we have to stop. I promised you. If we take this further, I’ll never be able to leave you alone.”

  Resignation replaced passion on her face, and she disengaged from his embrace. “You’re right.”

  A conscience could be a real buzz kill. Some wild, impossible hope had him wishing she would say he didn’t need to leave her, that they could continue to see each other after the ship got to Elementa. Apparently, he hadn’t learned his lesson on Draco because how did one expect to date a dragon priestess? Wasn’t she supposed to be celibate?

  Their kisses had been far from chaste.

  He felt as confused as she looked.

  “I lost my head for a while,” she said.

  They stared at each other across the distance of a few feet, but it might well have been a chasm. Need and want, desire and despair shuddered through him. He sniffed as a tinge of rain touched his nostrils. Rain?

  “I was foolish to initiate…” She shook her head. “I have no right to involve you, get involved with you at all.”

  The sting of rejection lanced through him. He closed his eyes for a moment and drew in a long breath. “So, you wish to end it now.” He’d pushed her too far.

  “Wish? Oh, I wish so many things, most of which I can never have. I don’t wish to end it now, but I am not being fair to you. I don’t want to hurt you, but I will. I already have.” She clasped her hands and bowed her head. When she raised her chin, her eyes seemed lit by fire. “It will be at your expense if I claim the full two days.”

  “Not if it’s what I want, too.” Hope rose like a phoenix from the ashes.

  “You will hate me afterward.”

  “I could never hate you.”

  “You should. It will be easier for you to forget me.”

  “I could never forget you.”

  “This is how you convince me we’re doing the right thing?” Her lips quirked.

  His heart contracted at the attempt at humor, at the bittersweet joy of being with her and the realization he was doomed. He’d already fallen for her the instant he’d set eyes on her.

  “Maybe not the right thing,” he conceded. “The only thing. Let me hold you.” He led her to a massive chair and pulled her onto his lap.

  It took some jostling to settle into a comfortable position, giving him the impression she’d never sat on anyone’s lap before, but she relaxed against him, her body going pliant, her head against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her.

  Serenaded by their beating hearts, they held each other in silence and watched the stars.

  Chapter Nine

  Lights whizzed by in a streak as the mining car shot through the lava tube. So many subterranean tunnels crisscrossed the planet, one could get lost, so every vehicle and hazmat suit was tagged with a locator. The tracking devices had the added benefit of enabling Biggs to keep tabs on his workers if he wanted to. On the downside, the control room staff could track him. It went against the grain to put himself on anyone’s radar screen, and he itched to peel the locator off the suit and disable the device on the vehicle. However, concern over getting lost and dying trumped the discomfort of exposure.

  He was, by nature, a cautious, methodical man. He hadn’t amassed his power by making impetuous moves but through small incremental steps that went unnoticed until it was too late.

  Battery-powered lights illuminated the tunnels, but other than black rock and the occasional lava worm, there was little to see, so he focused on the nav screen, watching the car eat up the distance. The drone had shot some decent footage of the landing pad, and worker reports were generally reliable, but Biggs wanted to see the site for himself and check out the mystery building while he was at it.

  Little squares on the screen represented buildings, the near-solid clump of them indicating he was passing under Dragon Town. Dozens of feet of solid rock separated him from the largely uninhabited metropolis, but he hunched over anyway. Dragons creeped him out.

  The tiny squares thinned out, indicating he was leaving Dragon Town behind, and the car veered a hard right and sped up an incline toward a marker on the screen. First up: the landing site. In less than a minute, the transport rolled to a stop.

  He retrieved a face mask and respirator from the car’s rear compartment, slipped his arms through the oxygen tank straps, attached the hoses to the headpiece, and then pulled the latter over his head and snapped it to his hazmat suit. The air tanks had been adapted from scuba gear for land use, and they weighed about forty pounds. Suiting up to go to the surface was a pain in the ass, but it beat being gassed to death.

  A ladder had been bolted to the rock inside the fumarole channel.

  Near the ladder squirmed a foot-long ashy gray lava worm. Biggs pulled out his blaster and shot it. It exploded, splattering slime over his boots and lower legs. Shit. He’d have to hose off before reentering the habitat area. Insulated by the hazmat suit, he couldn’t smell anything, but nothing stank worse than lava worm guts.

  He stepped around the worst of the muck and climbed the ladder hand over hand. Once the lizards finished a project, they didn’t tend to return to it, but he peeked out the hole and scanned the area to confirm it was clear before scrambling out.

  Sunlight filtering through a toxic atmosphere painted the sky a rosy purple. It always looked like the sun was rising or setting. Even he could appreciate the beauty, but everything on the planet could bite you in the ass. There were so damn many things—geologic and zoologic—that could kill you. Gazing at the pretty color, you could fall in a crevasse or be standing still and get stung by a venomous tetrapod.

  And don’t forget the dragons.

  He surveyed the area, while keeping an eye out for predators. Rocky spires and jagged hills had been more or less leveled, the debris carted away, leaving an area akin to a huge asphalt parking lot, except it was still rough and uneven. Dragon ships didn’t require runways; they didn’t land on wheels but merely set down, so the surface didn’t need to be perfectly flat or smooth. There were no fissures to catch the unwary, although he spied a few active, smoking fumaroles. He tromped farther out to better gauge the size and pivoted in a 360. The cleared area appeared to comprise several hundred acres, possibly even a section of ground.

  They intended to land a behemoth of a ship.

  A shitload of dragons would be coming. God, he hated those fucking lizards. He thumped his burning chest through the hazmat suit and stomped back across the field. At the tunnel entrance, a little puff of smoke wafted up from the hole. And the ladder had disappeared.

  This wasn’t the entrance.

  Fuck. He’d tried to retrace his steps, but he must have gotten off track. Everything looked the same out here, just black rock, black rock, and more black rock. Since the topography had been leveled, there were no outcroppings or spires to use as landmarks.

  There. Over there. Another fumarole hole. Relief washed over him until he got to it and discovered it wasn’t the right one, either. Acid gurgled into his mouth, and he was forced to swallow it since he couldn’t spit with the hood on.

  His gloved hand shot to his chest, ready to activate the rescue beacon, but he held off. If he had to be rescued, he’d appear weak. He took some deep slow breaths, and when he felt calmer continued his search f
or the entrance.

  He blasted a couple more lava worms and an enormous tentacled tetrapod that appeared out of nowhere. Twenty minutes and ten holes later, he found the correct fumarole and scrambled down the ladder.

  He unsnapped and tore off the hood and sucked in great gasps of piped, sanitized air. He tore open the first aid kit and grabbed a wad of gauze to wipe away the eye-stinging sweat. Then he took a long pull from his water bottle and climbed into the vehicle, half of a mind to cancel the next stop, except Jackson Biggs did not quit, did not surrender, did not fear.

  He punched the coordinates for the mystery building into the nav system, and the car sped off.

  * * * *

  From the base of the steps, he surveyed the massive structure. Like other buildings, it was constructed of pure white stone, but similarity ended there. It didn’t resemble anything else the lizards had built. Why had they broken their established pattern and erected something so different? It didn’t make sense. Then again, they were alien animals, so maybe there was no explanation for why they did what they did. Yet, experience had taught him that often it was the little mysteries that ended up being significant, so it was a good thing he’d decided to see it for himself.

  The columned building was round with a domed roof, but compared to the ornate, detailed architecture, it was plain to the point of austerity. Storage facility perhaps? Prison maybe? The latter would account for why it sat atop a hill all by itself so far from Dragon Town.

  Wide steps climbed between the pillars to an entrance, but he circled the entire building to check for additional entries first. Seeing none, he unholstered his blaster and mounted the twelve steps. He’d counted a dozen pillars, too. He wondered if the number twelve held some superstitious significance.

  Inside, he found himself in the outer rim of a windowless spiral. The walls themselves glowed, providing near daylight illumination. By his estimation—although it was hard to tell—he completed an entire circle before the passage emptied into a massive, round room as austere and uninspired as the outside. Just pure white walls, floor, and ceiling.

  He moved to the very center and tipped his head back to peer at the dome. It was way the hell up there; the massive chamber itself could have accommodated several dragons in full shift—except for the narrow passage around the perimeter. Perhaps they walked in under demiforma?

  “What a waste of time. Nothing to see,” he muttered. He hadn’t learned anything important. There was no point hanging around. Besides, being topside gave him the creeps. He still felt a little shaky after almost getting lost. Plus, he needed to take a piss.

  He was headed for the exit passage when an idea halted him mid-step. A slow grin spread across his face as he marched to the middle of the room. Unfastening the front of his hazmat suit and unzipping his pants, he relieved himself on the white stone floor.

  Now that made the trip worthwhile. The only thing that could have made it better would have been if the building had been something important.

  Chapter Ten

  O’ne got her first glimpse of Elementa on the view screen as the ship broke through the vog and descended toward the surface. Volcanoes spit fire into the sky, and lava rivers poured over black rock. Fumaroles spewed mighty puffs of gas into a vividly hued atmosphere.

  Scenting the room with excitement, the acolytes converged on another view screen, their chatter lacking the decorum befitting servants of the Eternal Fyre. She couldn’t bring herself to chastise them because this planet was critical to their survival as a species. Elementa would ensure they continued to live. Not in eons had Draco been this geologically active.

  She probably would have been excited, too, if not for the circumstances. After spending a final bittersweet day together, she and H’ry had said their farewell. As she’d feared, two days hadn’t been enough to store memories for an eternity. Their last kiss had devastated her.

  The First City appeared below as a sprawling mass of gleaming white stone. With a wave, she increased magnification to zoom in on Prince T’mar’s sparkling crown jewel of a palace. Somewhere within those walls, H’ry would reside.

  She closed her eyes, recalling his smell and taste, the solidness of his muscular body, the rumble of his deep voice, the seductive whisper of his fyre, and the joy and desire she’d experienced in his company. Would the time come when the sensory memories would fade until all she could recall was that once a man named H’ry had lived?

  She did not want to forget him. Ever. But she would be doing a kindness to herself if she could. I should be grateful for the time I had. My purpose is to serve.

  For truth was her desires mattered not. It only mattered that she had been claimed by the Eternal Fyre. When one had been chosen, one could no longer choose.

  Eons would come and go, but the sacred flame would continue to burn. As it had always been, as it would always be. The past, present, and future united in singularity.

  Zooming out again, she scanned the surface for the temple, finding it as a speck on the sunrise side of the First City. From this high in the atmosphere, the temple appeared close to the urban area, but, in reality, it would be quite a distance away. Removed from civilization. Isolated.

  She switched off the screen. She didn’t need to see a close-up of the temple. Its domed and pillared rotunda design would mirror the one on Draco to exact specification. Even the rise it sat on would be the same height. If the hill didn’t naturally meet the requirement, it would have been altered to comply.

  “Priestess…have you any instructions for us upon landing?” L’yla interrupted her contemplation.

  “You must not ask. It is not proper,” R’nay hushed her.

  Uncowed and unrepentant, L’yla retorted, “I ask so that I—we—may discharge our duties.”

  Questions, always questions. Didn’t L’yla realize often there was no answer—that the question was the answer? Patience and acceptance had been among the first and hardest lessons she’d had to learn. What was the point of rushing through eternity? There was no place to go. Nothing to do or see. The Eternal Fyre was now, forever, and always.

  Even this momentous occasion equaled no more than a blip in Draconian history.

  Two days had not been long enough. Two days couldn’t be measured against forever. Squeezing her hands into fists, she hid them in the voluminous folds of her gown.

  L’yla bowed her head but didn’t move. Brave, that one. Stubborn. A smidgeon of respect kindled, and O’ne realized her irritation stemmed from ambivalence. She should have been as eager as they to enter the new temple. Instead, she wished to delay it. She wished for more time with H’ry. That couldn’t be too much to ask for, could it?

  “Upon landing, we’ll fly to the temple, whereupon the Eternal Fyre shall be rebirthed and will burn forever more,” she said.

  “Our dragons will fly us?” R’nay asked.

  She arched an eyebrow, a gesture learned from her daughters. “How else would you expect to get there?” she asked, although she supposed the surprised query was a fair one. Until this voyage, the acolytes hadn’t left the temple on Draco since they’d entered. After arriving at the new temple, they would likely never leave it, either. Cloistering eliminated temptation.

  She’d ventured out only a handful of times, once for the coronation of King K’rah and then twice more when her daughters had been in danger. During one of the latter times, she’d encountered H’ry.

  “You must not deviate. You must control your dragonesses and go straight to the temple,” she instructed.

  “Yes, priestess,” they responded in unison, but excitement wafted off them, as if they were a wing of dragonlings on their first flight.

  How will you control your dragoness? came the taunt. Perhaps I shall dally. Fly to the highest spires. Follow the lava rivers for as far as they flow.

  If that is what you wish, she responded, confident she would do no such thing. The dragoness relished the power, the fear their position evoked. Striking terror in the king? T
hat was practically an aphrodisiac to her.

  Perhaps that explained why the dragoness had accepted Rhianna and Helena—because doing so had thwarted the king, who had opposed allowing humans into the royal court. For the longest time, the monarch had abided their presence on Draco only because she had ordered him to. Since Rhianna and Helena had mated to two of his sons, he’d softened a tad.

  You wound me! Do you think you are the only one to mourn our daughter? Our fyre burned within her. Not yours, ours. She was my daughter, too. Rhianna and Helena are my children, also.

  O’ne recalled the dragoness’s race to the dungeon to free Rhianna who’d once been unjustly imprisoned by the king. You’re right. I’m sorry.

  Never apologize. It is a sign of weakness.

  Contrary as always. O’ne returned her attention to the acolytes, who, while naïve, were more reasonable. “The guardians will fly in formation around us as we travel to the temple,” she explained, and then caught a familiar scent tinged with the alarming peppery odor of danger.

  She sprinted for the passage, hampered by her hair and train. Demiforma guardians had converged on H’ry who crouched in a fight stance with dagger in hand. A human would never win against a single dragon—and a dozen? But he exuded no scent of fear, only determination.

  “What is going on?” she demanded.

  “This human says he came to see you,” a guardian growled.

  They’d said their goodbyes. He shouldn’t have come. He was making this so much harder. But her fyre flashed and danced. “Let him pass.”

  The guardian hesitated, and O’ne expelled a burst of fire as much for H’ry’s benefit as his. He needed to understand she was the priestess; the O’ne he’d held and kissed existed no more.

  The guardians fell back, and H’ry widened his eyes. “I didn’t know you could do that in woman form.”

  “There is much you don’t know about me.” She should have let the guardians deal with him. “Walk with me.”