VAAN

I hate my thunder-filled mind.

Ever since I came through the Rift, my mind has been nothing but storms. Storms full of clouds and wind and crashes of thunder so fierce that I can scarcely tell reality from imagination. Because I hated this new world so much, it didn't matter. I let myself sink into the madness, welcoming the storms as they washed over my spirit and took over. I was nothing but need and insanity, living but not alive.

Now, my mate has arrived and I realize how far I have sunk into the madness, and I do not like it. For the first time in…months? Years? Decades? I want more. I want a mate. I want to fill a nest with young and raise them to be strong, fierce drakoni. I want my fierce female to pull to my side and touch, to caress her body and feel her mind touch mine.

She wants something from me and I have not understood what it is yet. Every attempt I make to speak to her by a touching of minds is met with blankness. She does not have the automatic mental connection that every drakoni in close range will have. And we cannot have our private link as mates if she does not take my fires. It is frustrating to be so close and yet so far from truly understanding her.

I need to do more. She did not want my food. She did not want my embrace. Something else? I ponder this as her breathing evens out and she falls asleep. Lying here next to her in the dark, the madness is not so bad, and I realize that it is because she is with me. Her scent is in my nostrils, her body next to mine, and it calms the ever-present storms in my mind.

As long as I can have her, in any way, even like this…I must be content. She challenged me once. I will wait for her to do so again.

I continue to sweep the room with my gaze, hunting for clues as to why she likes it here so much. This thing we sleep on? It is soft, true, but it stinks of human sweat and dust and other bodies that have lain upon it. The fabric she hugs to her even though the evening is warm? Or something else? I look around the room, but all I see are human things.

So many human things. They are an odd people, to surround themselves with so much clutter.

Perhaps that is what it is, then. She needs more human things to make herself a proper nest, a nest she will be happy with. I should take her to one of the abandoned human hives so she can take as much as she likes and line her nest with her treasures. Then, when she is pleased with it, surely she will challenge me to mate her.

Pleased with this plan, I lightly place my hand on my mate's waist and go to sleep.

GWEN

I wake up the next morning, drenched in sweat, drool on my face, and my hand on a warm thigh.

Worst part of it? It's not even my thigh.

Damn. It.

I snatch my hand away before Vaan can wake up. If the dragon-man realizes it, he doesn't say anything. He yawns slowly, stretching his big golden body and displaying sharp fangs…and then scratches at his junk.

Some things never change, human or dragon.

He's got morning wood, but I don't look. Well, I do look—just a little—but when he stretches, it stabs at the sky and it's kinda hard not to notice. I get to my feet and push my hair off my face, wiping my chin. Well, aren't I just as fresh and sexy as a daisy? I tug at the front of my shirt, sticky with sweat. I feel gross and damp all over after sleeping next to the personal furnace known as Vaan. I'd love nothing more than to rip the entire shirt off and switch it for a new one, but he's getting to his feet behind me, so I need to wait until he leaves.

Vaan immediately comes over to me and wraps his arms around me from behind, burying his face in my hair and breathing in deeply. "Gwen," he rumbles, as if sweaty morning me is the best thing he's ever smelled.

I have to admit, if he's trying to win me over, he's doing a good job. But I slide out of his grip, heading toward the bathroom of the trailer. "Let's get something to drink, hmm?”

This morning, the sink groans and only spits out a few drops before giving up. Well, that's disappointing. It worked last night. Nothing to drink or bathe with. I open the door to the bathroom and notice Vaan's still standing out in the center of the trailer, watching me expectantly. His eyes seem more gold than black today, and I hope that's a good sign.

"Hey there again," I say, and make a drinking motion. "Know where we can get some water?"

He smiles at me—a dragon should not be that handsome, and yet here we are—and then makes the same gesture I just did. "Gwen."

"Not quite, bud." I make the drinking motion again and then rub my stomach and tilt my head back as if I just drank the world's best beer. "Aaaah. Water." Then I look at him expectantly. When he keeps watching me, waiting, I move back to the sink and turn it back on again. A few drops dribble out and I pass my fingers under them, then flick them at him.

His eyes light up and he lets out a sexy, low growl, his eyes shooting to a brilliant, soft gold.

Whoops. "Whatever you thought that was, it isn't," I whisper, my senses on alert. He reaches for me and I turn my head away, trying to ignore him.

His claws skate up and down my arm, not enough to cut, just enough to make my skin prickle. After a moment, he sighs. "Gwen."

"I just want some water," I tell him quietly. "It's not flirty time. It's not a come-on. It's just water." Although, if he showed up with a jug of water and a roll of condoms, I'd be hard pressed to tell him no, I'm so parched. I press my palm to my forehead. "I'm so damn thirsty I can't think straight."

"Gwen."

I look over at him.

Vaan's eyes are that normal swirl again, and he offers me his hand. I take it cautiously and he leads me out of the trailer. Maybe he finally understood what I'm asking. "I should get my shoes before we go hiking," I begin.

A split second later, I'm talking to massive golden scales and I can barely swallow the scream that rises in my throat before we're in the air.

Of all the places I expect the dragon to land, an auto parts store is the least likely of all. I mean, auto parts? Really? Does he think I have a hidden sparkplug fetish? Does he even know what a sparkplug is? At first I think we're going to fly overhead, but nope, he circles in and then settles on the flat, tar-smelling roof and releases me. I give him a puzzled look the moment he lets me go. "What's here?"

He watches me expectantly, his eyes swirling. He lowers his head, waiting.

All right, clearly I'm supposed to figure out something from this. Hugging my arms to my chest, I take a quick look around.

We're up on the roof of what looks like an old auto parts chain store, one of the square, squatty, free-standing ones. He flew us for at least an hour, so where we are is anybody's guess. I put a hand to my eyes and scan the surroundings. In the distance, it looks like there's an old strip mall and a parking lot…and of course he took me to an auto parts store near an abandoned highway. I bite back my horrified amusement and check out my immediate surroundings. The roof of the building itself is flat with a few random metal things sticking out and I have no idea what they pertain to, but none of them are a door leading downstairs. I move to the edge of the building and peer down into the parking lot. There's a couple of old cars scattered here and there, and a closed dumpster against the wall. I eye the distance. It'd be a fall of fifteen, maybe twenty feet. I don't have a good feeling about that, so it's gonna be up to Vaan to get us down…provided I can get him to understand, of course.

I wiggle my bare toes, thinking. I glance over at Vaan. "Can we get down?"

He immediately shifts into his human form and approaches me, dick swinging (eek). "Gwen."

"No, no Gwen right now," I tell him, pointing at the ground. "Gwen needs down there. God, I wish you spoke English."

Vaan moves to my side, and when I point over the edge of the building, he peers over it as if to see what I'm pointing at. I'm ready to cry in frustration until he makes a gesture with his hand that looks like…jumping down?

I nod. "Yes, we need to get down—"

He immediately jumps down the side of the building and lands—quite heavily—on the dumpster. It sends up a wealth of flies and the lid looks like a boulder landed on it. Vaan hops down to the pavement and immediately makes a choking sound, waving a hand in front of his face.

I have to giggle at that, because the expression on his face is so funny. "Smells good, huh? Gotta love that fresh air." Vaan recovers and shoots me such a wry, human look that I break into more giggles.

God, it feels good to laugh.

He studies the dumpster and then plants one foot on the side of it and shoves it away from him. It's an impressive show—he's strong, given that the heavy scraping noise the dumpster makes tells me that it's really full. It's also fascinating to watch because he's very naked and everything flexes and shifts when he moves, and I'm doing my best not to stare like a horndog. I keep thinking of that warm thigh I'd woken up clutching, though. I think about it a lot.

And when he raises his arms up to me, indicating I should leap into them, I think about it again. Blushing, I shake my head and move away from the edge of the ledge. We might have a temporary truce, but there's no way I'm jumping off the side of a building into a dragon's arms. "You can come up here and get me," I call out.

A moment later, there's a dragon on top of the building again and he's doing just that. I pat his claws as a thank you and start looking around. The doors to the place are chained, but I press my hands to the dusty glass and peer inside anyhow. There's a checkboard tile floor in black and white, and tires line one of the back walls, a few missing from their homes. Chairs are neatly stacked along the opposite wall and…

There's a fountain. I gasp in surprise because that's not something you expect to see in an auto- parts store. I don't know if someone set it up after the Rift or they just wanted to have a nice lobby in the Before, but it doesn't matter. There's a human-sized water fountain in there, big enough for someone to bathe in. I press my ear to the glass, but there's no trickle of water going inside. Doesn't matter. I still want it.

The scratchiness in my throat feels almost unbearable. So close and yet so far. Longingly, I give the fountain another look through the glass and then tug on the doors. The padlocked chains hold tight, only giving enough for me to slide a hand through. "Fuck!" It is beyond cruel to have water in an apocalypse and lock it away. I look over at Vaan and shake my head. "I don't suppose that fire of yours can melt chains, can it?"

He tilts his head, studying the door, and for a moment, I feel like he can understand me. A split second later, he shifts to dragon form and gently nudges me aside with his claws. I don't have to be told twice. I trot away a safe distance and then turn to watch him. Vaan studies the doors, then slides his big, knife-like claws into the gap and pries one entire door off. It groans and then goes flying with a shatter of glass in the parking lot.

"Well, that's one way to do it," I tell him happily. I rush forward and give his foreleg a hug, patting his scales. "Thank you so much!" I head inside without waiting to see if he's going to follow.

The interior of the tire place is oppressively warm and smells like, well, hot rubber and tires. There's a haze of dust in the air, but I don't care, because I'm heading toward the fountain like it's calling my name. The fountain was once beautiful and had water cascading from three tiers, but like everything else in this apocalypse that ran on electricity, it's dead. The bottom tier is easily the size of a kiddie swimming pool and it still has water in it. There are a few coins tossed at the bottom, but I don't care. It's been over a day since I drank anything, and I'm starting to feel nauseated at the lack. I dip a hand into it and taste-test.

Not the best flavored water, or the cleanest, but I've had worse. I gulp down a few handfuls and then rest my cheek against the lip of the thing, relieved. One problem down, many to go.

The dragon noses me.

"I'm good. Just resting. You should drink up." I pat his snout.

He doesn't seem all that interested in drinking, though. I rest for a few minutes, drink again, and then hunt through the place until I find a few empty bottles and discarded cups and fill them up. Then I decide it's time for a damn bath, because it's hot as hell and who knows how long it's going to be before I can find something this big again? It might be a risk to waste all my water bathing…but that's what the cups are for, and if that fails, I'm hoping Vaan can find us more water.

Either way, I'm getting a soak, even if it's the last thing I do. That's the nice thing about being a “captive” of the bad guy. I'm making some bold-ass decisions because I don't know if I'll have a future.

Since I don't have any shoes on, I slide my dirty feet into the water, sitting on the edge of the fountain. Oh wow. Nothing's ever felt so good. With a blissful sigh, I decide to say “fuck it” to the fact that I'm wearing jeans and a T-shirt and unbuckle my gun belt and gently set it on the floor. Then I scoot forward until my whole body lowers into the water. It's cool and wonderful despite my clothing, and I make a contented noise in my throat as I lie on my back, soaking in the first “bath” I've had since the apocalypse. I've washed, sure, but they've been furtive cold showers or a scrub with a wet washcloth. This is a soak, and it's wonderful.

"Gwen."

A hand reaches in the water and grabs ahold of me, hauling me up. Vaan scowls, holding a handful of my wet shirt as he studies me. It's clear he has no idea what I'm doing, because the look on his handsome, stern face is downright worried.

That's cute.

"It's a bath, silly. You can try it, too." I gently pry his claws out of my shirt before he can destroy this newest one. I splash the water, indicating he can get in and then make exaggerated motions about how much I like it. "Mmm, water, so fun."

He gives me a disgusted look, snorts, and walks away.

I kind of have to laugh at that. It seems my dragon is pissy with me because he thought I was dying. Poor thing. I continue to roll around in the water, enjoying the feel of it against my skin. After a few minutes, though, I start to feel selfish. It feels good, but I'm not getting clean, not without soap. Vaan clearly isn't in need of a drink and doesn't see the benefit in bathing, so I'm just wasting time and water. There are a million things we could be doing right now—or rather, I could be doing—that could benefit my situation or help me get back to Fort Shreveport. Swimming in an abandoned fountain won't feed me, won't get me shoes or supplies, and sure won't return me to my sister and friends.

With a guilty sigh, I pull myself out of the water, grab my gun belt again, and then head over to where Vaan stands by the doors, keeping watch. Without shoes, I'm dripping water everywhere and it makes walking treacherous, and I wobble and slide on the slick tile with every step. Just when I'm almost at Vaan's side, my footing goes out from under me.

The dragon-man grabs me easily, snagging me and hauling me against him before I fall down. I gasp as he wraps an arm around my waist to support me, because suddenly my hands are on his chest, his bare skin pressed to my body, and I'm incredibly aware of the heat of his body…and how little my soaking wet clothing protects me. My nipples prick against the T-shirt and are outlined magnificently against his chest. I might as well be naked.

The smoldering look he gives me tells me he's thinking the same thing.

I pull away from him, my cheeks almost as scalding as his skin. "Ah, maybe we should have a look around the area."

"Gwen," he growls, trying to hold me closer, but I wriggle out of his grasp anyhow and he lets me go.

My clothes slopping water everywhere, I tiptoe out into the parking lot. I need space away from him, because for a brief, shining moment, I didn't want to let go of him. I wanted to stay in his arms and see what would happen. I wanted to rub my breasts against his chest and see how it would feel, how he'd make me feel when he touched me. If all that intensity he lives and breathes was directed onto pleasing me in bed…

And I can't be thinking like that. Not in the situation I'm in. Still, it's damn easy to see why Amy always has a smile on her face. Dragon attention is…potent. I blow out a deep breath and scan my surroundings. All right. Where are we going from here?

So I don't have to look at him again, I put a hand to my brow and pretend to be real interested in my surroundings. Squinting at the buildings in the distance, I study them for a long time, even though I recognize the bright red sign of an old pharmacy. If it hasn't been raided, it's a damn goldmine and far better than a tire store, fountain or not. "We should head over there."

He grunts as if he understands me, and when I point, he nods and gestures. I guess that means that I get to take the lead for a while and he'll follow. Nice to hear. I take off across the parking lot, wringing out my clothes as I do. The gun belt slaps at my hip and pulls at my waist, threatening to fall down and take my sodden shorts with it. I hitch it up and pick my way over the weed-strewn pavement. It's summer-hot against my feet, but I ignore it as best I can, stepping on patches of grass for relief.

Vaan remains at my side, letting me lead the way. It takes a bit longer than I anticipated to get through, since there's a broken overpass to traverse, but we get across and then the pharmacy's in sight. The glass looks shattered but not broken, which is promising. If it hasn't been gutted, that might mean it holds some treasures within. As we get closer, the doors and windows look dusty and covered in grime, but faded posters still hang in place, advertising some long-ago sales. "Looks abandoned enough," I tell Vaan, and head for the doors.

There's no chain on the doors, but the broken length and smashed lock are tossed nearby onto cracked pavement, so at one point it was protected from intruders. Not a great sign, but that doesn't mean it's completely ransacked. I give one of the doors a tug and it doesn't budge, but after two more yanks, it slowly creaks open and I give Vaan an excited look. "Let's go inside."

He lifts his head, sniffing the air, and frowns, putting a hand on my arm.

"You smell something?" I tap my nose, trying to communicate what I'm asking.

Vaan thinks for a moment, then sighs heavily. The look on his face is frustrated, and he paces around the side of the building, frowning. I wait, but he only puts his hands on his hips and stares off across the empty parking lot.

Yeah, okay, well if he's taking this moment to contemplate eternity, I'm going to go inside and see if there's anything to salvage. My feet are starting to hurt and if I'm lucky, I'll at least find some flip-flops before he gets in his dragonish head that we need to hustle away again so time is of the essence.

I slip inside and take a look around.

The pharmacy shelves aren't more than five feet tall, so I can see over the rows and rows across the empty store. Cobwebs hang from the ceiling and thick dust filters the light. Everything here screams it hasn't been touched in forever, but there are footprints in the dust on the carpet which says someone was here before me, at least. When they were here, it's impossible to tell.

They didn't take everything, though.

The shelves here are half-full, a thick layer of dust covering their contents. I can see an endcap of tampons and another of hair products. Rows of brightly colored nail polish line the first shelf in the makeup aisle, and I sigh at the sight of them. I used to love to paint my nails, but all the products that are left are mostly goop at this point. Still…I pick up a bottle of cherry red, shake it, and then pocket it anyhow. Hope springs eternal and all that. I ignore the rest of the makeup, because rancid lipstick holds no appeal, and head farther in. Hair products, feminine hygiene, cotton swabs, hair dryers, decongestants, it's all here. Behind the pharmacy counter it looks like it's been ransacked and destroyed, probably not long after the Rift itself. Not just by junkies looking for one final fix but desperate mothers in need of inhalers or diabetes meds for their kids. It makes me sad to think about that, because I can't imagine that anyone who desperately needed any medicine like that is still alive.

I circle around to the edge of the store, not entirely sure what to grab in the face of all this wealth. There's toilet paper and paper towels and tissue paper and paper plates and I feel like I'm in heaven. I think for a moment and then immediately race toward the food aisles, but those are picked through. With a sigh, I glance around and then my gaze falls on the shampoos and hair products. I touch my wet, nasty hair and then head toward it. I could go back to that fountain and finish my bath. Heck, if there's a working sink in the bathroom here, I could wash my hair—really, really wash my hair. And lotion—oh god, there are bottles of lotion.

"I'm gonna need a damn cart," I tell myself happily, but I don't go get one. Not yet. Instead, I pick up a bottle of bath wash, flip open the cap, and breathe in the floral scent. It's still there, even after all these years, and it smells better than anything I could possibly imagine. Wow. I've forgotten all the smells from Before, when people actually got to bathe regularly with hot water and had all the clothing they could possibly want. I close my eyes and for a moment, I want so badly to be back in that time. I want to be in a world where cars ran instead of rusted, parents didn't walk away one day in search of food and never came back, and people were nice to each other. A time when dragons were fairy tales and only existed in movies as bad CGI.

I give the bottle another sniff, but the smell isn't as strong and floral on the second round, and it makes me sad. Sad, like all of this. Sad for the life I should have had instead of the one I'm forced to scrape together. I give the bottle one last sniff and hug it to my chest.

Something clinks the next shelf over.

I pause, looking around for Vaan. I don't see him anywhere, because his big shoulders and bronze head would be easily visible over the short shelving, but I'm alone in here. Rats, maybe? I curl my bare toes in distaste and creep over to the next aisle, trying not to make much noise so I don't scare away whatever critter it is. I want to see what it is I'm up against. It could easily be a possum…but it could also be a snake, or a skunk, and those have to be avoided in a very careful manner. I peer around the edge, scanning for animals.

There's no skunk, though. No critter or rodent or reptile.

There's a woman.

She's about my size and so incredibly filthy that it's impossible to make out her hair color or even her age. She could be twenty or forty. Her face is lined with dirt and mud and her hair is a caked, snarled mess. Her clothes are grimy, rotten rags that don't seem to have any particular shape. She presses herself against the shelf, nearly knocking over a stack of deodorant, and her eyes go wide at the sight of me.

Oddly enough, she's got really pretty eyes—a startling, brilliant hazel. And I think she's younger than I first imagined.

She also looks terrified.

"Hi," I tell her, making my smile as friendly and welcoming as possible. "I didn't realize anyone was here."

The sheer terror crosses her thin face again and she clutches at the shelf as if it'll save her somehow. Her mouth opens and works for a second, but no noise comes out. Then, finally, she manages to squeak out, "You…should run away. Go. Before he sees you."

I should run?

I squat down next to her, studying her expression. She's not afraid of me.

For me.

That could mean one of two things—she saw the dragon and worries he's going to eat me…or she's not here alone. Oddly enough, I'm not afraid. In the past, I'd have freaked out, but I don't feel like I'm in any danger…at all. Vaan is right outside. "Oh honey, no," I say gently. "If you mean—"

Something hard pokes me in the back of my head. I hear a click—the sound of a gun being cocked.