* * *

 

Nineteen year-old Laney Parker walked around the tiny, nondescript house. It was painted a cream color, which was peeling, as though from neglect. Brown, twisted shrubs grew despite the barren, grassless soil of the unkempt yard. Laney knew that inside, it was all cool, expensive modern finishes and furniture. But, in this part of town, the safe house had to blend in with its surroundings.

Laney looked inside of the rusting mailbox by the front door—waterlogged envelopes and circulars from the past few days had been stuffed haphazardly inside. No one had been here for several days. She let out a sigh of relief.

She knew that it was a risk to be walking around alone in such a bad part of town, but it was a risk that she would have to take. Her face was covered in bruises, and she had a split lip. Her arm sported the marks from where her ex-boyfriend had grabbed her with one of his large, beefy hands, and she had a fractured rib from when he’d thrown a five-pound weight at her.

Her ex, Lance Carter, was eleven years her senior. He had a long rap sheet, including prior arrests for black market deals, possession of certain illegal substances, money laundering, and most frequently, domestic violence. He had many safe houses across the city, where he could go to ground whenever the next warrant for him was drawn up.

Laney had been released from the hospital a few hours earlier. Her rib throbbed, and she could taste the metallic tang of blood from her busted lip. She had been used to mistreatment—she had been in the foster system up until a year and a half ago. All she had in the world was ten dollars and no options. She had to get out of the city before Lance was able to hunt her down. So, she was robbing Lance’s least favorite safe house and going to pawn a few items to get a one-way ticket out.

Finding a rock in the brown, spiny shrubs, she walked around to the back of the house, hurling the rock at a window out back. The glass shattered, and she covered her hands with her shirt sleeves, grabbing onto the window ledge and pulling herself up. Her abdomen dragged across the sill, making her gasp in pain.

She awkwardly climbed inside, dragging a duffel bag behind her. Looking around in the darkness, she waited for her eyes to adjust. She was afraid of turning any of the lights on—she knew that the security system would be sending an alert to the company, thus Lance would be receiving a call soon, so she needed to get moving.

Unzipping the duffel, she began placing items into the bag—a few crystal champagne flutes, a small oil painting, a cut glass vase. She heard a sudden noise—movement in the basement. She walked over to the basement door, opening it. The dank, musty air wafted up toward her. It was hot, as though the basement was heated, and it smelled musky, as though a large animal were down there. She heard a scratching of large claws and snuffling sound; the intake of breath. Something was down there. She frowned, walking down the moist, wooden stairs.

Looking around the unfinished wooden banister, she gasped in surprise. Taking up most of the tiny basement, there was an enormous lizard. It was golden, and it glowed with its own inner light. It was looking at her mournfully with two iridescent blue eyes that seemed almost human. It exhaled, releasing a wind of hot, steaming air. Lance was trapping this animal—just like he had trapped Laney.

Laney looked around. There were empty food and water bowls on the ground beside the beast, which was standing in the dust and filth of the dirt-floor basement. Thinking back to the full mailbox, Laney realized that the creature must have been here, alone in the dark, for several days, potentially without food.

She crept across the dirt floor toward the beast, which loomed over her. She held out a hand, and it lowered its majestic, reptilian face. It smelled her hand, rubbing its scaly face on her tiny palm, giving it a gentle, weak lick. Laney then felt safe enough to release it, fiddling with the buckle on the metal woven collar.

Finally, the collar dropped to the floor. There was a mark along the scales of the creature’s neck, as though from an acid burn. Horrified, Laney covered her mouth with a hand. The creature rose on its hind legs, causing Laney to step back. It angled its large, triangular head so that it looked down at her before it took off up the stairs.

Laney ran after the creature, but it was fast, and gone by the time she reached the upper floor. There was no sign of destruction or damage from its large body as it moved through the house. Aside from the basement where it had been held, the creature had left without a trace, as though it had never been there to begin with.

~*~

 

Without knowing why, Laney went back downstairs to retrieve the collar. Inspecting it, she found that there were strange symbols woven in to the strange metallic interlace. She did not recognize them. It was strange and beautiful in its deadly appearance. She placed the collar inside of the duffle bag with her other stolen items, and then quickly left the house; she had lingered for far too long as it was.

The pawn shop’s fluorescent lights hummed annoyingly above her as the door shut with a bang, and the ringing of the bell that was over the door. The shelves were packed with items of varying value. The accumulation of unwanted, desperate junk was depressing; it made Laney glad that she had next to nothing.

A rough-looking man with a goatee and a leather motorcycle jacket stood at the counter. Rubbing his hands together, he looked Laney over, an eye brow cocked. He did not smile, and his face was grim, as though he had seen everything and found it wanting.

“Buy, sell, or pawn?” he asked her wearily.

“Sell,” she replied in what she hoped sounded like a confident voice, and placing her duffle on the counter. She removed all of the items but the collar from her bag. The pawn broker sighed heavily, glancing over each piece tiredly.

“I can give you fifty for the lot,” he replied.

“Some of these things are worth way more than fifty,” Laney protested.

“These things are a dime a dozen,” he said. “It’s going to take me time to move them, and I have to make a profit.” Laney choked back the question, how much profit? She nodded her agreement. Beggars can’t be choosers, and Laney was desperate. She sighed and took the collar out of her bag.

“Do you, by any chance, know how much this would be worth?” The man’s eyes widened greedily, and her heart raced, hoping she’d struck something big.

“Where did you get that?” his voice came out almost as a whisper.

“Oh, my grandmother died, and I found it in a box of her old things in the attic.” She tried to keep a straight poker face and her voice modulated and calm, as the man picked up the collar, inspecting it.

“The only time I’ve seen something like this was when a man came in trying to sell one to me.”

“Did he say what it was for?” she asked. He laughed.

“He said it was for capturing and holding dragons. Can you believe that? Dragons.” The man laughed again as he looked at the collar. “That guy was nuts. But I’ve never seen anything like it until today.”

“How much would you pay for it?” Laney tried to keep the excitement from her voice. This had to be worth something—at least enough to get away and start over…maybe even to keep her going for a few months. The man shook his head and she felt her heart sink.

“Well, there’s little to no chance of me being able to sell it,” he said. “Near impossible to find a buyer—I wouldn’t even know where to look for one. So, honestly, it’s worth about its value in metal.” He placed it on a small set of scales on the counter, looking at the digital readout.

“Well, I can give you twenty-five dollars,” he said, rubbing his chin. Devastated, Laney nodded.

“Okay,” she said. She had to take whatever she could get. The man counted out the seventy-five that he owed her from her sack of the safe house. At least I have enough to get a bus ticket, she thought to herself.

~*~

 

Laney left the pawnshop. She felt exhausted already. She wondered how long it would take her to get to a safe place to sleep. There was a hotdog vendor, just packing up his cart for the night. She reached in her pocket, pulling out a five.

“Do you have anything left?” she asked the vendor.

“Certainly, miss,” he replied. “I have a few hotdogs and a soft pretzel or two.” Both sounded good, but she needed to conserve money until she got to wherever she was going.

“Can I have a hotdog, please?” Her stomach growled as he took out a pair of tongs, and took a hotdog out of the heating tank. He placed it on a white bread bun within a silver-toned wrapper, and took her money, calculating the change as Laney dressed the hotdog in ketchup and mustard.

“Your change.”

“Thank you.” She chewed slowly, taking small bites and savoring the hotdog as she began to walk to the bus station. As she walked, she began to get the feeling that she was being watched. Surreptitiously, she began to look around her as she walked, glancing at the passersby to see if she recognized anyone, and no one was paying her any attention as they went along on their way.

Entering the bus station, she walked down the stairs, and toward the ticket window. She heard someone call her name, and she looked up. Sitting casually on a bench, sat Dan Miller, one of her ex’s close friends. He smiled at her with a threatening, cold look in his eyes. As he began to get up, Laney ran, sprinting for her life.

~*~

 

Laney ran, disappearing into the crowd at the bus station. Forcing herself to walk at the pace of the rest of the crowd, she looked about her, heart hammering in her chest. She let herself go with the flow of foot traffic, allowing herself to be propelled back out on to the street.

Lance, by now, must know that she had not yet left town. He will have known about all of her movements, aside from which pawnshop she had gone to, although he might even have a vague idea about that. She headed toward the low-rent district, hoping to find a room at a cheap motel in the area that was run by a rival gang to Lance’s. He would think twice before going into the Kings’ territory.

The farther away she got from the bus station, the more decrepit the buildings looked. The sidewalks here had not been repaired in at least a decade, cracks spider-webbing their away along the streets. Laney jumped over deep scores in the cement, which was dirty and smelled of urine, garbage, and vomit.

A group of men, dressed in wife-beaters, low-slung jeans, and yellow bandannas was walking toward her. Her adrenaline kicked into overdrive as they casually and quickly surrounded her. She clutched her duffle to her chest, trying to hide the fact that her hands were shaking in terror.

“Hey baby,” one of the guys asked her.

“You want some company darlin’?” Another asked, looking her up and down.

“No, thank you,” she mumbled.

“Aw, come on, baby,” said a third. Laney looked around her, realizing that the six of them definitely had her trapped. She was grabbed, and dragged down an alleyway that stank of musty pavement and garbage. She gagged at the smell.

Two men held her down, while another unbuckled his pants. He smiled dangerously, exhibiting yellowed teeth with a gap in the two front ones. Her heart pounding frantically in her chest, Laney fought against the hands that held her, tears streaming down her face as she panicked.

A large beast sprang from the shadows, scattering the men. It landed on the one who had been undoing his pants, caving his chest in with a punch from one of its massive claws. It tore at his throat, tearing it out with a bold swipe of its talons. It glittered dangerously in the dim lighting of the alley. Noticing the still-visible chemical burn mark around its neck, it was the dragon that she had rescued earlier, Laney realized. Or, at least one that looked very similar to it.

As the other men began to scatter, the dragon made another swipe with its claws, and another man fell to the ground. The men screamed in terror, running for their lives as the dragon shot a brilliant stream of fire from its jaws, the heat searing their flesh and lighting their clothes on fire.

Laney stood, her legs shaking, as she rushed to the dragon, throwing her arms around its hard-scaled neck. She sobbed, hugging it tightly. At that moment, the creature seemed to melt, shifting its form as bone and sinew snapped and scales resolved into caramel-toned human skin. Laney stood back, her arms held to her sides as she beheld a man; he was all lean muscle; wiry as a willow wand, yet strong and well-muscled. He had long, tousled, golden hair that covered his neck, and ice-blue eyes that seemed to look deep into the depths of Laney’s soul. He reached out, touching Laney’s face, as though it were something precious, and Laney felt something deep inside of her, something that she had long believed to be dead, respond to his touch.

The man looked exhausted, as though he had not slept in days. He had deep, dark circles beneath his eyes, and he had the hollowness around his cheeks that signaled someone who had not eaten well for a long time, and then there was the burn from the collar. His hands shook with the severe combination of fatigue, pain, and hunger.

“Who are you?” Laney whispered.

“Kyle Danner,” he replied.

“Laney Parker,” she replied, and then took off her denim jacket, holding it out to him to cover his nakedness.

“I have clothing. It’s all there,” he said, gesturing toward a pile of discarded clothing and a backpack that had been haphazardly flung against a wall of the alley that they were standing in. He walked over, leaning down to pick up a pair of ragged blue jeans, and giving Laney a good view of his attractively articulated back and well-formed rear-end. Laney flushed, and turned her glance away.

“Were you following me?” Laney asked, frowning and recalling her sense of being followed.

“Yep,” he replied evenly, stepping into the jeans.

“Why?”

“Because you saved me.” He paused, looking at her over his shoulder for a second before pulling a well-worn white t-shirt over his head.

No man had ever stood up for Laney in this way before. If they had, they would have demanded something in return. She felt special…for the first time in her memory. She had been in a long string of foster homes throughout her childhood. No one had ever gone out of their way for her, or put her first, like Kyle Danner had. She had no idea how to act. How could she thank him?

Kyle was pulling something on, placing it around his neck—it looked like a simple felt strip. Laney noted the presence of the chemical burns from the collar, still etched in red across his skin.

He patted his pockets, checking for his wallet. When he seemed satisfied that all of his belongings were still present and accounted for, he looked at Laney, his eyebrows raised, questioning.

“Are you ready to go?” he asked her.

“Sure,” she replied. As a foster kid, you had to learn how to roll with the punches, to take what came your way, and to not question it. Kyle Danner had come her way—and she was gladly going wherever he was.

~*~

 

Laney’s heart raced with delight as she walked the seedy back streets with Kyle. She felt safe and protected in his company. He led her to a motel, a dark and run down affair tucked in between a greasy spoon restaurant and a foreclosed shop with old mannequins in the window. The front lobby smelled of stale cigarettes. They walked up to the front desk, which was enclosed in safety glass.

“One double room,” Kyle requested. The desk attendant looked up from the cheap romance novel that she was reading. Her huge, watery eyes seemed to look through them. She pointed to the ledger, which, to Laney’s relief, Kyle signed with only his name. The attendant slid a key through the opening at the bottom of the safety glass. Laney reached into her duffle bag to take out some of the money that she had gotten from the pawn shop earlier in the evening.

Kyle pushed her hand aside, taking out a beaten-up black leather wallet, peeling off a couple of twenties and sliding them through the slot in the glass. He took the key, and took Laney’s elbow, guiding her to the dingy elevator against the back wall of the lobby.

When they arrived in the room, they found that it, too, smelled of stale cigarettes and astringent cleaner. There was one bed, which took up most of the space, and a television which had been screwed securely into the wall. A tiny table with a wingback chair occupied the rest of the space. Kyle set down his backpack, glancing around.

“I can sleep on the chair,” he said.

“It’s fine if we share the bed,” Laney replied.

“No, you—”

“No, really—it’s fine,” she said, looking Kyle in the eye. He nodded, and sat down on the edge of the bed. Laney sat down beside him, folding her hands when she realized that she didn’t know what to do with them. They sat in silence for a moment.

“Why were you chained in that room?” she asked him. “How did you get there?” He was silent for a while, and Laney was afraid that she had asked too personal a question of someone who she had just met.

“Dragon hunters,” he began. “People who hunt my kind to harvest our blood, scales, and saliva, which can all be used as spell components.”

“That’s horrible,” Laney said, her hand going to her mouth.

“It’s the least of it,” he said. “We can be sold for sport—kept in the dark, starved, and kept awake for days before being turned on others of our kind in a cage. I think this is what they had planned for me. They were waiting until I went mad and weak from pain, hunger and exhaustion. That’s what that collar does—it burns until we can no longer bear it.” Tears were springing to Laney’s eyes. She felt for him, and the pain that he had gone through. She felt as though she could not trust her voice. He was staring at the floor, eyes wide, imagining his near-fate. Laney reached out, touching his cheek gingerly. He flinched, as though shocked by her touch.

“Oh, I—” Laney began to apologize, but Kyle was holding her in his arms, kissing her passionately. She responded, hungry for his touch. The kisses deepened, and he pulled her into his lap. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he placed his large hands on the small of her back.

He stopped, studying her, his eyes appraising.

“What’s wrong?” Laney whispered, pushing his golden hair back with a finger, and cupping his cheek in her palm. He leaned into her hand.

“Touching you…” he began and then paused. He squinted, as though it was hard to say. “This is the first time since my family was murdered that I feel as though I belong.” Laney smiled, a tear winding its way down her face. He was a stray, too, it seemed.

“To be honest, I’ve never felt like I belonged anywhere like I do when I’m in your arms.” He smiled in response, wrapping his arms around her like steel bands. Laney arched her back, leaning into him as much as possible while ignoring the pain from her injured rib. He reached up, pulling at her shirt. At the same time, Laney found herself tugging on his desperately. Laney rolled off of Kyle’s lap as she fumbled at his zipper while he removed her pants. He stood, letting his own slide down. Laney rotated so that she was sitting on the bed in front of him. He leaned over her, kissing her hungrily, letting his skin touch hers. Laney placed her hands on his sternum, running them over his chest, feeling the heat of his skin. She wondered whether this heat was from desire, a fever, or whether it was part of his being half dragon. He paused, looking at her. She realized that he was asking her for permission. She nodded, unused to being asked.

“Yes?” he asked.

“Yes.” She had never wanted anything more. He entered her, and she inhaled deeply, feeling him fill her. He looked her in the eyes as he ran his hands gingerly over her bruised abdomen. He frowned slightly when he noticed them. She reached for him, pulling him under with her.

“More,” she demanded, “more.”

“I’ll give you whatever you want,” he promised, breathing heavily against her skin. He trailed kisses down over her collarbone, nipping her lightly. She wrapped her fingers in his hair, tugging on it in her thirst for him. They made love with reckless abandon. It was the type of lovemaking that occurs after near-death experiences, when all of the passion is fiery, and all-consuming.

~*~

 

After, entwined in the sheets, they realized that they were starving. Kyle pulled on his clothes and went to grab a pizza from the restaurant that was next to the motel. While he was gone, Laney stood in the bathroom, looking at herself in the mirror. Her swollen lip was bleeding a little after her passionate endeavors. She covered a bruise on her cheek with a hand, imagining it gone. Her skin was flushed a pink color. She smiled at herself, and walked back into the room, picking up her t-shirt off of the bed, and pulling it on. She located her panties on the floor where Kyle had dropped them. She pulled those on, as well.

Kyle returned shortly, pizza in hand.

“I hope the lady likes pepperoni,” he said, smiling.

“Yes,” Laney replied, her stomach rumbling. Kyle opened the cardboard box; the smell was heady and delicious. As they dug in, sitting on the bed cross-legged and looking at each other over the pizza box, Kyle cleared his throat.

“So, tell me about yourself,” he said, looking at her intently.

“Not much to say,” Laney began with a sigh. “I’ve been in countless foster families…don’t recall my original one. Phased out of the system at eighteen, and then I’ve been living with my criminal, abusive, older boyfriend until last night, when my residence was the hospital.”

“Wait, you were in the hospital?”

“Yeah…fractured rib,” she said.

“You should have told me,” he said, a haunted look on his face.

“It was worth the pain,” Laney said, and changed the subject. “So, what will you do now?”

“Get out of the city,” he said. “Hopefully find another family of dragon shifters, preferably somewhere with a lot of space to run and a lot of room to hide from the hunters.”

“Me too. My dream has always been to have my own home outside of the city,” Laney said, swallowing a bite of pizza. “Somewhere that I can see the sky and do some gardening.” Kyle leaned back, propped up on his hands. He arched his eyebrow.

“That’s rather poetic for a foster kid.”

“In one of my foster homes, one of the good ones, the foster mother did a lot of gardening,” she explained. “It was therapeutic for us kids, so she encouraged us to participate, giving each of us a job to do in the garden. We would grow flowers, and vegetables out on the rooftop of their apartment building. It was one of my favorite places.”

“Why did you have to leave?”

“The foster mother was placed in a nursing home by her family,” Laney looked away from him. “They believed she was too old to be living on her own and raising kids.”

"How long will you stay here?" She asked. "I know it's not safe for you."

"I'm not leaving yet, ” he replied. They finished eating in silence, and Kyle got up, placing the cardboard box on the dingy table. Laney got under the rucked up covers, where Kyle joined her. He got on his side beside her, and reached for her.

“Come here,” he said, and she happily curled up facing him, her head resting on his shoulder. Kyle fell asleep quickly, exhausted from his experience. Laney listened as his breathing softened.

~*~

 

After a solid night’s sleep, Kyle looked remarkably better. They spent the morning in bed, deciding to remain at the motel another night.

“We should lay low,” Kyle said, pulling his clothes back on. “I’ll go and pay for tonight.” He left the room. Laney could feel worry, pooling in her stomach, but she didn’t want this honeymoon-like period with Kyle to end. Lance had endless resources at his disposal, and although this was nestled in rival territory, those rivals might be willing to let Lance retrieve what he believed to be rightfully his in exchange for some concessions.

When Kyle returned, he carried takeout containers with scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast from the restaurant beside the motel. They ate, and then spent the day watching the television and messing around. Laney reassured herself that she needed this day to recuperate, her injuries healing.

As the sun sank, Kyle stood up from the bed, pulling the rumpled sheets off of the floor. He tucked them around Laney as he kissed her cheek.

“I have to go,” he said. Laney’s heart sank.

“Oh,” she said sadly. “Okay. I understand.”

“Oh, no, darling,” he replied. “I just need to go out for a little while. I’ll be back.” He kissed the tip of her nose, and she laughed, her heart lightened at the thought of his return. He finished dressing, and then kissed her on the lips, waving behind him as he left.

Laney got up, walking into the bathroom. She turned on the shower and got in, letting the hot water soothe her injuries. She peeled the wax paper off of a bar of soap, tenderly cleaning her skin. She used the tiny bottle of shampoo, covering her hair in suds, and letting them rinse out. Climbing out of the shower, she wrapped herself in a towel.

She wiped off the mirror with a hand, inspecting the cut on her lip. The cut had sealed, leaving a dark spot on her lip. It was bruised purple. If left alone, in a few days it would turn a horrible shade of yellow.

Laney went back into the room, opening her duffle bag and pulling out a change of clothes. She had taken only what she could while fleeing Lance’s in order to get to the hospital. She had a pair of sweat pants and a black cami that looked attractive. She pulled on a pair of black lace panties and a leopard-print bra that drew attention to her cleavage. The one advantage to Lance was that he gave her basically unlimited funds for clothes. She realized now, of course, that that was no reason to stay with someone who beat the pulp out of you periodically.

She watched the television, putting on one of the movie channels. It was playing a high-octane car chase film. She loved those. She watched that one, and then the sequel to it, which came on as soon as the first ended. About halfway through the second film, Kyle returned.

Laney gasped. His clothes were torn, dirty, and splattered with blood. He had various cuts and bruises, which seemed to be healing as she looked on. In his hand, there was a wad of cash, and he was counting it, a self-satisfied smile on his face.

“Where were you?” she asked, feeling her eyes widen in shock and concern.

“I was just out…earning some money,” he replied in his even tone. “Everything is fine.” He leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek.

“It doesn’t look fine,” she grumbled, finding that she couldn’t remain angry at him. Over the next week, he kept convincing her to stay. She would never leave the room, but Kyle went out to get food, or wherever he went to get beaten up and paid for it. She would beg him not to go, but he would, returning with extensive injuries that healed as she watched, concerned. She wanted to know what he was doing, and where he was going, yet a part of her knew the answer.

When he returned the second time, she approached it head on. When the door opened and he walked in, she shut off the television, which she had been watching, her stomach in nervous knots. She found that she couldn’t look at him as she spoke.

“You’ve been going to underground fights, haven’t you?” She listened as he exhaled sharply, wondering what emotion he was going through at the moment.

“Yes,” he replied.

“My ex, the one who abused me? He runs those,” she said. “If you’re going to continue to go to them, then I need to get out of here because you are going to lead him straight to me.” Kyle sat down on the bed beside her.

“I know. I just have to do this one last fight on the circuit,” he said. “The money that I make from this payout will be enough to get both of us out and somewhere that we can live our dreams. That house you wanted? With the garden?” She looked at him warily, seeing the hope that lit his face.

“I can buy that house with the money that I would make from this one last fight,” he said, reaching out and touching her face.

“I don’t want you to do it,” she said.

“I have to,” he replied.

“Please don’t,” she begged.

“Just this last one,” he promised. “And then I’m out.”

“How much?” her voice came out in a hoarse whisper.

“Fifty grand,” he said. She shook her head, knowing that Lance would never part with that much money. Fear began to permeate through her skin like electricity. Lance was targeting Kyle, and she wanted to know why.

“Let’s go now,” she said urgently, taking his face in her hands. “Just leave the city with what we have.”

“No no no,” Kyle replied, placing a hand on her shoulder, which she shrugged off.

“Yes, we’ll go now. We have enough for two bus tickets out,” she said desperately, her hands shaking. She looked him in the eyes, willing him to change his mind. “We don’t need any more money.”

“We do,” he said, taking her in his arms. He kissed the top of her head. “I’m doing this for us. For our future. Just think—a house. With a garden. In the country.” Laney found herself crying. She was trapped by Lance, yet again.

“No, he won’t let us go,” she sobbed.

“I’ve been in this game for a long time,” he insisted. “Just one and done. I promise.” She buried her face in to his chest, inhaling his scent. She knew that she needed to convince him otherwise, but did not know how.

~*~

 

Laney picked up the motel phone, dialing the one number that she had memorized. When the person picked up, a bright female voice saying:

“Hello?” Laney whispered into the phone:

“Meet me at the rendezvous spot,” and then she hung up the receiver, silently placing it on to the cradle. She looked at the bed, where Kyle lay fast asleep. She scribbled a hasty note to him, telling him that she had an urgent errand to attend to, and would meet him back here.

Pulling her jean jacket on over her cami and a pair of yoga pants, Laney left the motel, walking quickly down the city sidewalks. She pulled on a pair of designer sunglasses that Lance had given her. She couldn’t wait to get out of the city and get a job so that she could buy clothes and things that had no connection to her violent ex-boyfriend. She sighed deeply, walking quickly.

She found herself soon in the downtown area, where she boarded the subway. She headed for the central business district, getting off on Canal Street, and walking a few blocks from the subway exit. She glanced behind her casually, checking to see if anyone was following her. She looped around the block, pretending to window shop as she watched the passersby in the glass of the storefront windows. Satisfied that she hadn’t been followed, she returned to Canal Street, entering a bright, airy café. At a back table, she saw a woman wearing a pair of dark Chanel sunglasses. She was dressed in a simple black sheath dress, and fit in with the other customers well. She was sipping a latte from a large ceramic cup, the foam sticking to her perfect red lipstick. She was blonde, with a pixie cut, and she smiled when she saw Laney. Laney walked over carefully, attempting not to draw unwanted attention.

“Meg,” she said. Meg Davis, Laney’s best friend and cousin to Laney’s ex, stood, giving Laney a hug. They sat down at the table, where Laney’s place already had a latte and a croissant sitting at it.

“I ordered for you already,” Meg said.

“Thanks, I haven’t eaten yet today,” Laney replied.

“Sure,” Meg said, keeping her voice in a hushed tone. “So, why are you still in the city?”

“I haven’t been able to get out. Dan was at the bus station, so I’ve been hiding out in rival gang territory. I won’t tell you which.”

“Much appreciated. To what do I owe this pleasure?” Meg cocked an eyebrow. “I’m already walking a tight line with my cousin for bringing you to the hospital.”

“Thank you so much for that, by the way.”

Meg leaned forward, placing a hand on Laney’s forearm. She squeezed it comfortingly.

“I would do anything to help you, my dear.” Laney nodded, her throat choked with grateful tears. She sighed, swallowing them back. “But you need to get out of town. Stat.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?” Meg asked. “I can get you safely to a bus station right away.”

“I have a new boyfriend,” Laney explained. “He’s sweet. But he is insisting on doing a fight tonight. Lance’s promised him fifty grand.”

“There’s no way he’s going to get it.” Meg paused for a second. “Do you think Lance knows about you and this guy?”

“I have no way of knowing.”

“Hm. It’s a strange coincidence, don’t you think?”

“Seriously.”

“As far as I know, Lance has gotten himself involved in some black market animal trafficking trade,” Meg said, taking a sip of her drink. “It is an animal that can only be contained by this strange, woven metal collar. It has these weird patterns on it. It’s super heavy.”

“I’ve seen one,” Laney said.

“What’s it for?”

“Dragons.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I’m not, Mi,” she said. “You have to tell me where this fight is being held.”

“How does this have anything to do with dragons?”

“My new boyfriend?” Laney said. “He’s a dragon shifter.” She watched her friend’s mouth drop open in shock.

“Well, great—he can get you out of the city.”

“He wants to fight for the fifty grand.” Meg shook her head.

“Men can be so bull-headed.”

“You have no idea what it’s like when they’re dragon-headed.”

“Bet that’s hot,” Meg said, making Laney laugh. “I’ll tell you where the fight is being held. He’s definitely going to need backup.”

 

 

 

Laney walked as quickly as she felt was safe back to the motel. She stood fidgeting in the elevator, coming up with the best way to tell Kyle about going to see Meg. When the elevator doors slid open on their floor, she walked rapidly down the hallway, her hands shaking a little as she stuck the key into the lock. She pushed the door open and Kyle stormed across the room. His face was full of fury, and Laney stepped back into the hallway.

“Where were you?”

“I needed to get more information,” Laney explained, feeling unsure. She had never seen Kyle angry before.

“At what cost? Did anyone follow you?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” He stood down, rubbing his chin. His brows were furrowed. He walked over toward her, and she flinched. He paused, taken aback and then pulled her gently into a hug.

“I won’t hurt you,” he said. Laney nodded. She looked up and into his face. He leaned down, kissing her, deeply. Placing her hands around his neck, she let him take her over to the bed, where he began to undress her. Worked to unbutton and then unzip his jeans, returning his kisses passionately. He guided her gently, until she was on her back, and he trailed kisses along her jawline, stopping to nip the lobe of her ear. She inhaled sharply, feeling herself respond to the heady sensations of being near to him.

He paused before entering her, looking her in the eye, asking her permission. She smiled and nodded. He knew exactly what she needed—to feel that she had her power back—power that Lance had taken from her. He made love to her gently, slowly, drawing it out luxuriously. Laney was left feeling completed, and sleepy. She curled up beside him, drifting off to sleep.

Laney awoke from a deep sleep to find herself alone in the room. She looked around, and then her gaze fell upon the bedside table. There was a note, scribbled on the back of her own note that she had left for Kyle earlier.

On my way to the fight. Wait for me here. When I return, we will go and find our dream house, together. Love, Kyle.

Laney’s heart sunk in fear. Kyle was walking right into Lance’s trap. She fought back tears, choosing instead to hold her head high. She was going to go to that fight and save Kyle, even if that meant facing Lance and his abuse.

~*~

 

The docks by the river were redolent of the sound of gulls and the deep lowing of freighter horns. The warehouse that Meg had told her of was made of corrugated metal, painted the deep crimson of Lance’s shell company that had been created as a front for his black market dealings. She had a switchblade in her high-heeled boot, which she had kept in her duffle. It made her feel better to at least have a weapon, despite its smallness.

She could hear the sounds of voices inside of the warehouse. Two large men stood at the door. They were dressed in plain black t-shirts, and dark gray slacks. They were well-muscled and enormous; people who would cow a grown man. The one to the left looked her up and down, the slow speed of his action making her feel violated. She fought the urge to tug on the hem of her short black dress. She wished that she was wearing clothing that covered her, but she needed for Lance to believe that she was coming to reconcile.

“Password?” he asked, a dangerous grin spreading across his face lasciviously. Laney fought the urge to gag with revulsion.

“Flakka,” she said, naming the rather nasty drug that Lance’s twisted sense of humor found to be entertaining to feed to his fighters before sending them into the ring.

“That one,” he said, “Is rather expired, missy.”

“But—” Laney began as the other bouncer turned, frowning. Surprise spread across the man’s features as he recognized her.

“Laney.” He smiled dangerously. “Lance has been looking everywhere for your hide. I’d hate to be there when he tans it.” He reached out, grabbing Laney roughly by the shoulder, but before he could drag her off, Laney yelled out.

“Wait! Stop!” he paused.

“What could you possibly say to make this go differently?”

“I’m here to make it up to Lance,” she lied, looking him in the eyes in a manner that she hoped was coming off as sincere. He looked a little doubtful, but he nodded, letting go of her shoulder.

“Let’s go,” he said.

~*~

 

Lance sat in the stands beside a large dirt circle that was enclosed in a metal cage. The stands were on a raised platform beside it, and there was a large standing room, full of rough-looking people dressed in dirty, ragged clothes milling about. The roar of voices was tremendous.

Lance was a large man, all muscle—he had a sharp jawline, and an outward attractiveness that had initially drawn Laney in. Before his attitude had become abusive, his size had comforted her, and his jokes made him seem warm. What girl wouldn’t want to be with a strong, handsome man? As a stray, she had wanted the attention, the power that had come with being seen as Lance’s girlfriend. She had found, to her surprise, that in becoming his girlfriend, she had lost any power that she had possessed.

He came across as cheerful and attentive, but underneath, Lance was a snake. He believed that his word and desire was law, and those who broke that law would live to regret it. Lance certainly made sure of that.

Looking at him in that moment, Laney could not see past his darkness. She recalled the black fury in his eyes as he had beaten her into submission the week before. She kept my hands balled at her sides to hide the fact that they were shaking. She needed, in that moment, to be strong—for Kyle.

When he saw her, Lance smiled. It was a crocodile’s smile: all teeth and cold, reptilian eyes. It was terrifying. She believed that he would kill her, if it suited him.

“Back now?” he said, his tone light. “Where has my little bird been all week?”

“I…I want to apologize, Lance.”

“You certainly should,” he said, beckoning. She walked over to him, and he grabbed her by the hair on the back of her head, kissing her brutally. She tasted blood, her lip having grazed her teeth. He let go, smacking her across the face with his hand. She held her cheek as tears welled in her eyes.

“I don’t appreciate playing games, chickadee,” he hissed. “You led me on. I hope that you have learned your lesson.” She nodded, shaking uncontrollably.

“Good,” he said. “And I thought today was a good day before. Now it's even better, now that I have gotten back what is mine.” He gestured for her to sit in an empty chair that was beside his own. She sat down next to him, and bore his caresses. They had pleased her at the beginning of their relationship. Now, they disgusted her. Periodically, he would pinch Laney when he felt that she wasn’t paying him enough attention.

The fight began; two large men entered the ring. They were dirty, unrecognizable. Her heart was in my throat, but she relaxed a little when she realized that neither one of the men was Kyle. The men went at each other, and the one had the other backed into the side of the ring. They scrabbled against each other, grabbing at each other’s throats.

One man went down, and the other took the advantage, throwing his body on top of the other and brutally pummeling his opponent’s face. Laney winced at the utter brutality before her, looking over at Lance to be sure that he had missed her pained look. He was fixated on the fight, leaning forward in his seat as the final blows were delivered.

Lance clapped his hands, grinning and proclaiming loudly.

“It looks like things are going well,” she commented, keeping her eyes on the ring.

“Better than well, my dear,” he said. “I have a big lead in on something amazing.”

“I heard that there was going to be a big fight today.” she was treading on thin ice here.

“Yes,” he said, as two men entered the ring. “Later. You should see the one guy. He’s an animal.” He laughed, looking around at his cronies, who laughed, as well, happy to be in on the joke.

"There's big money in animal sales,” he added.

"But he's a person, isn't he?” she asked, overplaying her confusion. Lance did not need to know how much she knew. “You're not doing dogfights are you?”

“No, no, Chickadee.” He waved his hand in the air as though to clear it of her stupidity. “This is something better. You can see if you want to. You came back at just the right time. We are going to be rich."

He paused, frowning as an idea came to him. He looked at her with the quickness of a cobra, striking without warning. His voice was thick with suspicion.

"Speaking of which, why did you come back today?" She shook her head, smiling beatifically.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Lance.” He blinked, and then laughed; using a hand to wave away the thought, clear the air.

“You are too stupid to know anything,” he said, leaning in and kissing her. She laughed in response, pretending to agree and reciprocate his false affection. When he finally pulled away, he chucked her on the chin and she smiled at him seductively.

“Can I see the animal?” she asked.

“Oh, yes, baby,” he replied. “You will see it all.” He clapped his hands, turning to demand a drink. He entwined his fingers in Laney’s hair, tugging it as he ordered liquor to be brought to him. Laney’s stomach squirmed anxiously at the dread of a drunken Lance.

~*~

 

It seemed as though days passed, but it was mere hours, before the final fight. Lance had progressively drunk himself into a blithe mood the entire time. While he was in a good mood, alcohol tended to make his moods unpredictable, and tended to spur violent outbursts. Laney made sure to speak less and less as he grew more intoxicated so as to draw less attention to herself. She did not need to give Lance any extra reasons to want to kill her.

Laney watched as Kyle and another man entered the ring from opposite sides. Lance’s drunken joking with his cronies faded into the background. The focus of Laney’s entire world shrunk down to Kyle Danner, wearing only a pair of worn jeans.

Lance’s hand clapped Laney on her back, drawing her back to the real world, where she was in the company of her dangerously drunk ex. She felt as though the force from his hand had almost ejected her from her seat.

“There he is,” Lance crowed.

“Who?” she asked her heart was in her throat. Everything hung on the tiniest, thinnest of threads at the moment. Everything—her entire future, Kyle’s life—hung in the balance.

“The animal,” he explained. “You’ll see—this is going to be good.” The two men were facing each other down, sizing each other up. The bell rang, and Laney watched as Kyle sprung toward the other man, both of them shifting. The other man was a large bear—it seemed as though the fight were unbalanced in favor of the part-bear, until Kyle resolved into his dragon-form, rearing up onto his hind legs, and let out a shriek. He was beautiful in his strength, graceful in form.

The half-bear flew at him, and Kyle deflected him with a swipe of his forelegs. The half-bear was cast against the far side of the ring. It got to its feet, stunned, but not out yet. Regardless, Kyle didn’t waste the advantage that the stunned half-bear’s fumbling to make another foray gave him. Kyle arched his neck, letting a stream of fire shoot forth from his jaws. It was brilliant, lighting up the darkened area of the warehouse. Cries of awe at the heat and size of the flames echoed from the crowd.

The half-bear reared through the flames, raking his massive claws across Kyle’s underbelly. Kyle shrieked, snapping at the half-bear with his lizard-like maw. He clamped down on the half-bear’s throat, tearing it out. The fight was over in a matter of minutes.

~*~

 

The standing room began to empty as the spectators filtered out. Lance stood, and Laney followed him. Lance placed his arm around Laney’s shoulders. It was heavy and bulky. She felt bowed beneath its weight, suffocated.

They stepped toward the side of the ring, where Kyle stood, his hands in his pockets. He had a large wound across his chest where the bear shifter had raked its claws across him during the fight. As she looked on, Laney saw the cut begin to close. She was trembling in fear. This was going to have to be played on point if Kyle were going to get out of here alive. She had given up on herself, she realized. As soon as she had seen Lance, she had known that he would never let her go. She was here to save Kyle. Lance’s arm dropped from around her shoulders.

“Danner! My man! Good show,” Lance’s jovial voice boomed. Laney kept her expression blank and cool and her gaze on the ground to the left of Kyle’s feet. She inhaled, looking upward and directly into Kyle’s eyes. She silently willed him to believe that this wasn’t a betrayal. Kyle’s eyes were large, confused. He frowned at her angrily as Lance shook his hand. Stepping back, Lance clapped him on the shoulder.

“Well, let me get you that prize money,” he said, placing a hand on Kyle’s shoulder. “Come into my office.” Kyle kept his eyes on Laney, who tried to give him a subtle shake of the head, hoping that he would understand, and run immediately. Her heart sunk as he turned, following Lance to the office.

Laney began to follow, but pretended to trip. As Lance’s gang followers scattered to get out of her way, she grabbed the knife out of her boot. She got up slowly, pulling it into her sleeve. She glanced around the quickly emptying room.

Four men stood out—they were dressed well, in finely tailored suits. Laney frowned. Most of the spectators were grubby, dressed in jeans and t-shirts. She noticed a glint of metal in the hand of one of the men—it was a collar, she realized. It was a dragon’s collar. Laney turned to Kyle, who was still headed toward the office.

“Kyle!” he turned at the sound of her voice. “It’s a trap!” Noticing the men, he shifted, his form resolving into the shape of the dragon, large and dangerous in its wrath. Another two well-dressed men emerged from the office, focused entirely on Kyle.

Lance, on the other hand, whipped around, running toward Laney. He grabbed her with force, his hand clamping down roughly on her arm, causing it to jerk painfully. He grabbed her by the throat with his other hand. She tried to bring her hand with the knife up to stab him, but he was choking her. She did the only thing that she could think of, and stomped down on his foot with the heel of her boot. His grip on her throat loosened as he bellowed in rage and pain.

Meanwhile, the hunters were surrounding Kyle, chanting in a foreign language. Kyle struggled, attempting to breathe fire, but he seemed to be choking, unable to release his flames. He tried darting toward the edge of their circle, snapping with his fanged jaws, but they stood their ground. He seemed unable to get through.

Taking full advantage of Lance’s weakened grip as he shouted curses at her, Laney broke free, sprinting full-tilt at one of the hunters. She screamed as she stabbed him in the back. He fell face forward, breaking the hunter’s circle. Kyle attacked, ripping two into shreds—one with a claw, and the other with his teeth. Rearing back, he opened his mouth, shooting flames at the remaining hunters, who cried out in rage and pain.

Laney was caught off guard as she watched Kyle overtake his would-be captors. Lance’s hands clamped down on her arms, turning her to face him. He glared in her face.

“Were you with that animal all week?” he hissed. Laney responded by spitting in his face. He wiped it off. “You will regret that you bitch.”

Laney tried to free herself, fighting against his iron-tight grip. She struggled in vain as he brought his large, beefy hand back, slamming it into her face. The world faded to black for a second as Laney was almost knocked unconscious. She heard a loud ringing, and her left cheekbone throbbed with a painful heat.

With a vicious snarl, Kyle leapt at Lance. The dragon shifter brought the large man down with a single strike of his claw, darting his lizard-like head in and striking like a snake. Kyle tore Lance’s throat out easily.

Kyle shifted back to his human form. His eyes were wide with fury, as he turned and raced toward Laney. She dropped her knife, which she felt was useless. Kyle grabbed her, pulling her close to him.

“What were you thinking?” he yelled at her, over and over. Laney was unable to answer, her throat sore and raw. She found herself sobbing, large tears against Kyle’s hot dry skin. He kissed her on the top of her head.

“Hey. Hey. Look at me,” Kyle said, placing a hand on her cheek. She looked up at him, remembering when he had touched her on the cheek in the alleyway. He was looking at her like she was something precious.

“We need to get out of here,” she rasped. They looked about them. They were surrounded by the horribly mangled or burned corpses of all of the people who had chosen not to run.

“Man, you went from dating one monster—” Kyle began, but Laney wouldn’t let him finish.

“You’re not a monster,” she said. “You’re perfect. There’s money in the office.” Kyle placed his hand on the small of her back. He wasn’t forcing her; he wasn’t directing her—just reassuring her that he was with her.

Once inside the office, Laney walked to the metal desk. She opened the center drawer, pulling out the envelope where Lance kept his petty cash. She opened it, counting the wad of bills.

“Couple of thousand,” she said. Kyle gestured toward the safe in the back corner of the office, cocking his eyebrow questioningly. “I don’t know the combination.” Kyle shrugged in response, letting his right hand shift into a claw. He ripped off the door easily.

Inside, the safe was packed with money and drugs. Leaving the drugs, Laney filled a paper grocery bag with the cash. They left quickly, Kyle picking up articles of clothing off of the dead hunters as they went. They never looked back.

~*~

 

The house was cream-colored, with butter-yellow shutters and a red door. There was a wraparound porch with chairs. All around the house was a vast garden, filled with sunflowers, forget-me-nots, violets, roses, and daisies. In the back, there were rows of vegetables, which they sold to the day hikers.

There were large fields, where they kept their animals, their tiny farm backing up to a large national forest. It was quiet except for the calls of the birds and cicadas, and the wind in the trees.

Laney was on her knees among the tomatoes, her gloved hands covered in dirt. She loved the smell of the rich soil and the ripening vegetables. She leaned back, straightening her back to get out the crick in it from working. She wiped her forearm across her face, wiping off the sweat that was beading there.

Arms wrapped around her waist from behind. Kyle kissed the back of her neck as she cried out in surprise.

“I didn’t hear you!”

“Surprise, darlin.’”

“Oh, you.” She turned, kissing him deeply and passionately. They both fought to contain their smiles. She pulled away, looking at him happily. Kyle was shirtless, wearing only a pair of rugged blue jeans. Laney ran her hand over his sun-warmed skin. She looked up at him lustily.

He scooped her up in his arms, carrying her inside of the house and into their sun-filled bedroom. Laney giggled as he threw her down on the bed, trailing kisses along her neck and sternum. She returned the attention happily. He unbuttoned the chambray shirt that she wore whenever she was gardening, kissing her skin as he revealed more of it. Laney closed her eyes, letting herself enjoy being slowly undressed by her lover.

He paused, and she opened her eyes. He was waiting for her. She grinned widely.

“Don’t stop,” she plead joyfully.

“Yes, ma’am.” Kyle entered her, making her inhale with pleasure. The friction between them was electric. They made love frantically and passionately, hitting crisis at the same moment. They lay side-by-side afterward, Laney’s hand clutched in Kyle’s over his heart. Laney looked over at him.

“That was lovely.”

“Quite.”

“Do you want to go for a walk before lunch?”

“As you wish, milady.”

“You’re horrible.” Laney smiled. She was still as much in love with Kyle as she had been at the beginning of their relationship. She couldn’t believe how lucky she had been, for a former foster kid. They got dressed and left their house, making their way while holding hands through their sun-drenched fields.

The forest loomed over them as they paused to inspect one of their fences. The post was beginning to look a little worse for the wear.

“I’ll have to replace it,” Kyle said, pushing on it to see if it would break.

“Hello?” The couple turned to find a girl, just barely beginning her teens walking out of the woods beside them. She had a ragged and battered backpack on, and she looked tired and hungry. “Um. Does Kyle Danner live here?” Kyle frowned, but nodded.

“That’s me.” The girl looked relieved.

“You’re a dragon,” she said. “I can tell.” Kyle cocked his head to the side, waiting for her to explain. Laney gripped his arm.

“Who are you?” Kyle asked the girl.

“I’m a dragon shifter—I lost my family a few months back to the hunters. I heard that you had escaped from the city.”

“Who did you hear it from?”

“Another dragon shifter. There are others of us,” she explained. “We’ve all been looking for you. You stood up to the hunters and won…we all kind of thought that maybe when we found you, we’d find refuge.” Her eyes were wide, and Kyle looked at Laney. She nodded, and he smiled. They had officially become two former strays providing a home for other strays.

“You can stay here,” Laney said. “We’d be happy to take any dragon shifters.”

~*~

THE END

 

 

 

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