Son of the Dragon
A squeaking noise sounded as Emmitt kicked the toe of his shoe against the tile floor. “They call it The Sickening. We had to force it a bit because Vyr wasn’t showing signs yet. He’s old enough that he should have started it already. He never settled with a mate, and they tend to start getting sick if they don’t find a treasure in their late twenties. This one’s different, though. He’s the son of Damon Daye, and he’s an original. An ancient. Vyr is stronger. A different breed perhaps. So…we took him from his mountains, and we gave him meds to kickstart The Sickening.
“You don’t have a problem with any of this?” she asked, straitening up and looking Emmitt dead in the eyes.
“Nope. I’ve seen the video of him burning Covington. I have no problem saving the world. I’m a goddamn hero.”
Riyah shook her head slowly and gave him a ghost of a smile. Someday, she was going to get revenge for Vyr. And she was going to start with Emmitt, the pretend hero.
“How long has it been since he Changed?”
“Since number seventeen. Three weeks ago. He’s about due again, but it’s a big production. You’re here, though.” Emmitt matched her empty smile. “That’s part of your job, Princess. Make the Changes manageable when they have to happen. Keep him in control with your psychotherapy mumbo-jumbo bullshit like everyone seems to think you can do. We just need him to Change and sit quietly in his cage like a good little pet dragon until he can Change back into a human again. So far, there’s been too much fire when a Change goes down.”
“Why don’t you just kill him and get it over with?”
“Can’t. We’ve tried. Each time we try, the Red Dragon comes out and people get hurt. We need him weaker. Weaken him, Mercer. That’s why they’re paying you the big bucks.”
She wanted to puke. Right here in Emmitt’s observation room, she wanted to vomit.
The door opened, and a tank of a man with dark hair, a dark beard, and icy blue eyes leaned in. He had on the same guard uniform as Emmitt. He jerked his chin at the head guard. “Hey boss, they’re pulling us in for a meeting.”
Emmitt sighed. “Riyah Mercer, this is Hank Butte, and he is on the lower level team. He helps me run security down here. He came in six months ago with the Red Dragon. He was responsible for bringing the monster in.”
Hank Butte was a shifter. She could tell from the churning, inhuman blue of his eyes and from the awful feeling in her gut she got when he looked at her. He was very dominant, very powerful, and a bad man with loyalty to no one. There was a chip missing with him. She couldn’t sense any empathy from him at all. He was just a shadow. Empty. No feelings. Dark. But then, he would have to be if he was a shifter and could watch what was happening to his people down here. This douche-nugget brought Vyr in? Oh good, now she was justified in instantly hating him.
“Pleasure to meet you,” she said, not even trying to sound sincere.
“Yeah, I don’t give a fuck about meeting you either, lady. They want us in that meeting in ten—” He returned his attention to Vyr. “Oh, shit!” The towering man startled and his eyes went wide as he looked at the window behind her.
When Riyah turned around, Vyr was standing right up against the window, a feral smile on his face, eyes locked on Butte. He looked like a damn demon, his eyes both silver with that elongated pupil.
“I don’t think he likes you,” Riyah murmured, crossing her arms.
Vyr’s smile widened, his predatory gaze still on Butte.
“Better hope he never does a jailbreak, boys. I don’t think you two would be safe from his fire.”
“Fuckin’ creepy dragon,” Emmitt muttered, shoving Butte out the door. Before he left, he turned back around and jammed a finger at her. “If you go in there, you make sure there are six in the observation rooms and a team on standby to get you out of there if you need help.”
“You care,” she said with a too bright smile.
“Nope. I just hate when this place stinks like burning human flesh. Makes it hard to eat lunch down here for a week. Don’t die, Princess.”
After the metal door swung closed behind him, she flipped him off. When she turned around, Vyr was still there. He was looking at her with a sexyboy smirk. His eyes were still both silver, but he lifted a hand slowly and pressed it against the glass, locked his arm like he was just leaning against a wall.
Before she could change her mind and chicken out, she approached the window and pressed her palm against the glass, too. His palm was so much bigger than hers.
“Don’t get caught alone with Butte. If you ever do, call me. Call the dragon. If I’m still strong enough, I’ll fix it.”
Just in case the room was bugged, she didn’t speak. Instead, she nodded and hoped he would sense it. She shouldn’t feel safe with Vyr, but she did. And right now? She didn’t really care what that said about her. She believed him. He would burn this place to the ground to protect her. It made no sense to trust a man like this. To trust the baddest shifter on Earth, locked in the lower levels of a high-security prison. But as she watched him straighten his spine and his hand slip from the smooth surface…as she watched him make his way to the bed, she knew she trusted Vyr a hundred times more than she trusted the “hero” guards here. The wrong bad guy was locked up.
She used the intercom that was connected to the other observation rooms and checked them one at a time, made sure there were six in there and an extraction team. She would mind Emmitt’s rules. For now.
And then she used her card to get through the two steel doors into Vyr’s cell. He lifted his smoldering gaze and tracked her progress across the cavernous room. Formally, he gestured to a plastic chair in front of the bed. “You look sexy as fuck,” his voice rumbled in her head. Out loud he asked innocently, “Back for more interviews?” A slow smile stretched his face as he dipped into her mind again and murmured, “Blue. You’re wearing blue Vyr-panties. Right?”
“I told you yesterday I wasn’t good at these, but I guess this is my life now. At least you don’t suck at interviews too bad.” She hid a smile. “You’re making me blush red.”
“Red Vyr-panties. Fuuuuuck. Red for my dragon, right? Say yes.”
“And yes to more interviews. It’s part of my job, to study what you’re going through and help you through this transition.”
Vyr’s smile turned hungry, and when a deep rumble shook the room, she sat in the chair in a hurry so she didn’t lose her balance.
“The dragon wants out. It’s been too long. I won’t have control much longer. If you’re taking requests on what will make this easier? I need to Change.”
Riyah wrote that down word for word on the lined paper she’d attached to her clipboard. “Anything else?”
“Conjugal visits. Watch that wicked smile, woman, we are being monitored.”
Riyah wiped her face clean of a smile and cleared her throat as she looked at him again. “How are you feeling today?”
“Like shit. I had a rough night. I think you know that, though. How did you like that footage?” Something hard flashed through his silver eyes.
“I did watch it—”
“I asked you not to.”
“—because I need to see what living in here is really like for you.”
“You’re going to watch me break, Badass Princess.”
“I need to ensure you make it to the end of your sentence, and that means being involved in every stage of your transition here.”
“Riyah—"
“It doesn’t make you weak,” she said, cutting off his thoughts rattling around in her head. “But I need to see everything. For me. It helps.”
“Helps how? Seriously, how could watching me damn near bleed out every night help you?”
“You are a very powerful creature, Vyr Daye.”
“So?”
She glared at him. “Me, too.”
The cameras in the upper corners popped and sparked, and the lights went out. She was immersed in total darkness, and she could hear the guards yelling outside
the hangar doors, as if they couldn’t open them. What the fuck?
“We have thirty seconds. What do you mean?” Vyr asked in the dark.
“Watching you suffer feeds my power. I fucking told you I’m not letting you die. If I have to step in, I need to be at the top of my game. Fuel me with your suffering, Red Dragon.”
A hand gripped her forearm in the dark, and she was yanked forward. And then his lips crashed onto hers. There was a powerful, vibrating rumble that rattled straight through her, but she didn’t care. Desperate for the last few seconds with him, she parted her lips and let him thrust his tongue inside her mouth. He slid his hand up her bare leg and under the hem of her dress to her panties. He made it to her upper thigh and gripped her so hard she gasped at the pleasure and pain. His fingers dug into her skin as he kissed her. Chaos reigned with the sounds of yelling and panic outside the hangar doors, but for this moment, it was just her and Vyr.
He bit her bottom lip hard and released her suddenly. “Compose yourself. You’ve got five seconds.”
Breath hitching, she straightened her dress and licked her bottom lip in case it was bleeding. She didn’t taste iron, though. She stood and picked up the chair, and when the lights came on, she was poised like a lion-tamer, keeping a big-cat away. Vyr sat on the bed, relaxed, hands unclenched as he watched her jab the chair legs at him.
“What just happened?” she screamed as the hangar doors blasted upward and a team of four wearing fireproof gear came slinking in, rifles trained on Vyr. “Who did that?”
“Technical glitch, ma’am,” one of the guards murmured as he grabbed her around the waist and dragged her back toward the open hangar door. “You’re okay. Everything’s okay. We’ve got you.”
And in the second just before the hangar door slammed closed, Vyr gifted her with a wicked smile.
Chapter Seven
“Well, what can we do to reduce the anger?” Riyah asked in her calmest voice as the giant grizzly shifter with the blazing white eyes glared at her from across her desk.
“Ain’t no quick fix, Doc. You can kill me, that’s about it.” He stood so quickly the chair behind him blasted backward and smashed into the wall, making yet another hole in the sheetrock. Great. “It was really fuckin’ nice to talk to you and get nothing accomplished but hey, at least I missed my shift at the commissary, and now I’m down another dollar of wage, so thanks a bunch for abso-fuckin-lutely nothin’.”
“Well maybe you should stop making shanks and plotting to kill your cellmate, Daniel,” she said cheerfully. “See you tomorrow.”
Daniel spat on the cement floor and flipped her off. Only his hands were in handcuffs behind his back, so she had to purse her lips against a smile at him struggling with his middle finger. Sometimes the inmates were awesome and wanted to improve their situation, and sometimes they were Daniels.
Two guards led him out of her office, and the door clicked closed behind him. She did her best not to jump out of her skin when he slammed his forehead against her front window and stared at her for three terrifying seconds before the guards shoved him down the hallway. Today had been a pill. And she missed Vyr. When she had these appointments, she shut him out so he didn’t get riled up. He didn’t like that she was in this room with the baddies of the prison. Didn’t like that he couldn’t help if she got in trouble. And sure, she was completely capable of handling herself in these situations since her training had prepared her for this job, but it was really nice having someone care if she was okay.
She pressed her finger on the screen of her tablet, waited for it to read her fingerprint, then entered in ilikebigdicksandicannotlie69 and then she said her name to get through all the security. When it opened up on her notes, she skipped to Vyr’s and began to read.
Subject Inmate: Vyr Daye
June 7 – First day of observation – Standoffish, defensive, very powerful, struggling for control, sick, defeated, quiet, angry, dragon is half-dead. Huge changes need to be made for him if he is to survive this another six months.
June 8 – Second day of observation – Last night was eventful. He was in my head. It was nerve-wracking at first, but then I was comfortable with him there very quickly. He controls a great deal of power, and no one knows what it’s like for him. This is a man who has been misunderstood his entire life, from the second he was born, and still, he hasn’t quit on humans. He didn’t stop trying to protect people from himself, even when they ripped him apart in the media. Flawed, deep-rooted anger stemming from childhood, showing a great devotion to very few, loyal, protective. Cute. He had a nosebleed though, and it opened my eyes to how bad things get for him locked down there. Things need to turn around immediately. I’m asking Emmitt to keep the lights on and give me 24/7 video access to Vyr. I’m also asking for an improvement to his diet and some sheets for his bed.
June 9 – Third day of observation. I can’t stop thinking about when the lights went off. The way his hand felt up my skirt. The way his lips felt against mine. The rasp of three-day stubble against my cheek. The way he tasted faintly of mint and smoke. The sound of his dragon growling and the hungry look in his eyes when the guards took me away from him. The way he immediately asked in my head if I was okay when I left his line of sight. The way I have five perfect fingerprint bruises on my thigh, and I think he did it on purpose just so I would think about him later. I should be terrified of that man, and not just because he could burn me, but because he feels like trouble. To my heart. And I can’t conjure up the fear I know I should feel because all I keep thinking about is how rough his hand was, but how soft his kiss turned at the end. I’m in trouble.
June 10 – Stayed up all night talking to a cute boy with red hair, and now I’m exhausted. Vyr is really, really different from what I thought he would be. I’m three coffees in. I just went into the cell, which Emmitt is now calling “The Lair,” but Vyr popped off that this hellhole wasn’t his lair. When Emmitt asked him what he meant, Vyr smiled like a demon and told him he should visit his mountains sometime. That his crew would probably welcome him right in. I had this vision of a silverback and a grizzly ripping Emmitt limb from limb, and I’m pretty sure that was Vyr’s imagination in my head. That was new. He projected into me. Am I getting more powerful? Or is he?
It's after lunch, and they aren’t feeding him right. Every time I complain, Emmitt points out that Vyr has somehow put on ten pounds of muscle since he’s been locked down there, which kind of blows my mind. The dragon gets weaker, and the man gets stronger. At least that’s what it looks like to the casual observer. Vyr had another nosebleed right before I left. It started as a trickle down his lip, and I pointed it out. I handed him a rag from his bathroom station, but a minute in, and the rag was soaked through. He asked me to leave, and I wanted to cry because I knew how it was going to be for him. I saw how it was on that video, and I don’t want him alone with the guards. They’re too rough when he’s weak like that. Vyr asked the guards to take me away when I refused to go, and they did. And now I’m sitting here looking at this ham sandwich, wishing I was eating in Vyr’s cell with him, splitting my lunch, giving him half my sandwich and half my chips and half my orange Fanta. And a potato. I wish I could give him a potato. He’s been hungry for starches lately. Craving them, and I think there is some serious nutrition missing from his diet. I think Emmitt is trying to weaken him with malnutrition, but it’s not working. Tomorrow they are going to let him Change. I say “let him” but it’s really “force him” to Change. They like him to Change in a controlled setting, if anyone can really control the Red Dragon. Everyone is bustling around preparing for the Change in some place they call ‘The Dungeon,’ and meanwhile I annoyed Emmitt enough to do a surprise for Vyr when he’s done.
Sometimes I want to tell Vyr to burn this place to the ground.
I shouldn’t write that, shouldn’t even think it, but it’s there in the back of my mind. This constant, buzzing wish that grows bigger every time I see him mistreated. I wish he could escape a
nd hide forever, but where on this planet can the Red Dragon stay a secret? He’s too big and too destructive. I can see why his father wanted him in here. I’m pissed that he helped, but I understand Vyr has to serve this sentence if he wants to have a shot at living a life where he isn’t on the run.
Clara just texted the burner phone. I don’t understand what “Incoming” means, but it feels big. And yep, I’m now writing my notes on my tablet because, apparently, I can’t stay professional with Vyr, and I need a secure way to write down my thoughts on all of this. His notes have gone from professional observations to what looks like my middle-school-self’s Hello Kitty diary when I had a crush on Gus Naydor.
“Who’s Gus Naydor and where does he live?” Vyr asked in her head. His voice was a little too careful.
With a grin, Riyah checked that the hallway outside of her office was clear, leaned back in her rolling chair, and flicked her fingers. The blinds closed instantly, and on her desk, a pen stood upright and began scribbling a heart onto a yellow notepad. “Jealous?” she asked in a low murmur so no one walking by outside the office would hear her. Shifters had impeccable hearing though, so she set the phone right beside her just in case she needed to fake talking on it if anyone barged in.
“I told you, I don’t feel. Jealousy is a feeling, therefore no. I don’t want to burn Gus Naydor and devour his ashes.”
She snorted and shook her head. “Beast.”
“I wish I could take you out.”
The admission was sudden, and Riyah sat up straighter in her chair. “I haven’t been on a date in over a year. What if I’m a total bore, and you don’t like me anymore?”
“I would give a helluva lot to have you bore me over dinner. We both know I’m not getting out of here, though. Forget it. I was just talking.”
She moved the pen’s rhythm to make a crack down the center of the heart. “If you do get out, will you ask me out sweetly?”