Prince of Dragons (18 page)

“Launch when ready. Have a great flight, Commander.”

Not trusting his voice, and knowing he was on holo-vid display, Slyde nodded shortly and shoved the accelerator forward. The cruiser shot out into space. He banked away from the huge cruise ship, turning toward Serpentia. In seconds the
Orion
had vanished into the panoply of stars.

Meanwhile, on Pangaea…

Lly watched as Rra paced the bedroom of his luxurious penthouse on Pangaea. He wore only an open robe of lii leaf silk. The dark fabric billowed around his thin frame as he strode, his narrow face fixed in a scowl, green hair writhing about his head.

He had just received word that his latest saboteur aboard the
Orion
had been captured and his extremely expensive serpents destroyed. And although he’d first channeled his anger into sex, throwing her onto the bed and thrusting himself into her until he was spent, he’d soon worked himself into a rage all over again.

“The very stars are against me,” he ranted. “The perfect plan once again brought to ruin, through no fault of my own! I paid an astronomical amount for those quarking serpents—outfitted with cerebral goads, for Pan’s sake! And as for the services of my fellow Pangaeans—who would suspect so many of us were so
stupid?”

Lly moved on the mounded silk pillows, wincing as her delicate body protested. Although a skilled lover who knew how to send her to the heights when he chose, Rra no longer chose to be concerned about her pleasure. Or her comfort, it seemed. He had used her like a paid sex companion, forcing himself on her without even allowing her to use unguents to ease his entrance in her unaroused body.

Her fear of him was rapidly being replaced with a new emotion—hatred.

“Let me bring you a drink,” she said, proud of the soft submissiveness of her tone.

She slipped on her own silk robe, the pale pink of a lii blossom, and hurried from the room. At the bar, she prepared his favorite drink, moonstone brandy tempered with gremel syrup. Looking in the mirror over the bar, she saw him still pacing the bedroom. She picked up a small, decorative box on the bar and pressed a latch. A tiny drawer, concealed in the ornate carvings, slid open. She pressed her finger lightly into the nearly invisible powder in the bottom of the shallow space, then used the finger to stir one of the glasses.

With another quick glance in the mirror, she closed the box and rinsed her hands carefully before carrying the drinks back into the bedroom. Handing Rra his glass, she went to the window that looked out over the jungle as she sipped her drink.

She could see his reflection as he paused long enough to drain his glass in one gulp. He threw the empty tumbler into a corner. She winced, but it thudded harmlessly on the carpet.

“I
am
PanRra Air,” he shouted. “I am the best—everyone knows this.
Do they not?”

She turned, a placating smile on her lips. “Yes, my love. You are the envy of all.”

“Thass right,” he sneered, his eyes falling over her. “C’mere an’ show me you know it.” His voice slurred.

“Of course.” She set her drink on a low table and walked slowly toward him. Her head was held high, but her hair wrapped around her throat. He smiled cruelly. But then his smile slackened into bewilderment and he staggered and fell sideways onto the bed, out cold.

Lly hauled him up into the middle of the bed where she covered him with the silk coverlet. Picking up her glass again, she drained it in one draught and stared down at him. He would sleep the rest of the night and remember little in the morning, if the sleeping powder worked as it was supposed to. She had purchased it recently for an occasion such as this, from a dingy shop near the docks.

She really didn’t want to have to start over with a new lover and a whole new set of problems. She’d created a cozy nest for herself, lined with jewels and silk, as well as currency stashed in her private credit account when she could manage it without him knowing. As his mistress, she moved in only the best circles on Pangaea and the surrounding planets, drove a luxury hover-car and traveled on the private PanRra Air cruiser.

She turned back to the window just as the lights of a huge spaceship lifted into the night sky and then zoomed off on its galactic voyage. It might be either a PanRra or a LodeStar ship—they both flew in and out of the nearby port.

The crew commanders of the
Orion
were no doubt celebrating another narrow escape, she thought bitterly. Damn them, they had all the luck. If they would only die, her life might once again be one of ease and comfort. But she feared that Logan Stark and his successful LodeStar Corporation weren’t going to go away, and Rra’s obsessive hatred of the man would never ease. Therefore her position here was untenable.

She sighed, running her fingers through her hair as she looked down at the man sprawled in the bed. She was either going to have to leave him or kill him.

Chapter Twenty-nine

Slyde flew straight to his mountain lair, to be alone in the place that had always welcomed him, soothed him. The cave that had sheltered his grandfather and his father before him had been passed down to him as eldest son. From the outside, to the casual traveler, it was only one more slit in the rocks high above a narrow mountain valley.

Inside, it was a retreat. A huge hearth had been carved into the rear wall of the cave, and stairs into the soaring walls, leading to other rooms as well as passages back into the mountain itself. Rugs and furs covered the stone floors; massively hewn furniture cushioned with hummel leather invited rest and relaxation.

Each time Slyde walked into the cave, the troubles and cares of the outside world seemed to slip off his shoulders, fall away like empty husks in the wind whistling down from the peaks.

This time it didn’t help. Navos’ calming had carried him through his voyage to Serpentia and his landing on the small plateau near the cave. But as he strode into his retreat, the Dragolin in him reared his head and roared in rage, in agony.

He had returned alone. He had failed in his greatest quest—that of finding a mate, a female he loved who would cleave to him, bear his children and love him for life.

Like his father and grandfather before him, going all the way back to the dragon king who had first mated with a Serpentian woman and brought forth the line of Dragolins, half-man, half-dragon princes of the mountains, he must mate for life. And once he had done so, if she rejected him or died before him, he must live out the rest of his days mate-less, childless. For unlike other Serpentian males who cast their seed carelessly, he gave his heart and his seed to only one.

He’d fallen head over heels in love with Sirena the first instant he saw her. And even once he knew who and what she was, he wanted her so badly that he’d gambled it all on the chance she would find him the one male she couldn’t do without. He’d gambled it all, and lost.

He turned, stumbled back out of the cave and stood, trembling on the brink of the cliff, the night wind whispering around him. Above him the stars twinkled soullessly.

Alone…
It filled his mind, echoing in his ears, a silent scream echoing down the empty canyon. It stretched out before him like his life, full of cold empty shadows, a dark abyss.

Alone… no mate, no children, no
her—
alone, alone, alone…

“No!”

He threw himself off the edge, the wind tearing his voice away and sending it flying out into the chasm.

He felt himself shifting as he fell dangerously close to the stony ground at the bottom of the canyon, not caring if it was in time.

Tentaclar’s analgesics kept Sirena from being in physical pain while her body fought off the last of the wraith venom. But she refused to ask for the kind of drugs that would dull the other pain she felt. When Slyde didn’t return to her side, she didn’t allow herself to ask for him. The big lug obviously needed time to brood. He’d calm down, and then they’d resume their partnership and she’d convince him they should continue their affair as well.

So she told herself and, for a while, she almost believed it. But in the long hours of the night, she finally admitted such rationalization wasn’t going to work.

She couldn’t shake her deep, wrenching guilt. She’d tempted Slyde Dragolin into suborning his personal code and, however quixotic she thought his morality, it was obviously tied to his sense of honor, to his Dragolin life.

Sirena Blaze, commander of the elite Serpentian guard was, for the first time in her life, ashamed of herself.

And she began to wonder if there was something in his talk of fidelity. She’d tired months ago of the endless string of males who passed through her life, spending a few hours or days in her bed. But it was what she knew, what she understood.

Slyde was the first lover she didn’t wish to lose. It wasn’t just that he was such a beautiful male creature, either. Or such a clearly alpha one, and no wonder when he was half dragon. She would love to see him shift again. Her memory of the breathtakingly fierce creature that had roared into being to kill the serpents and save her was distorted by pain and near-delirium.

She wanted the Dragolin Slyde back while she was well and whole, able to admire and enjoy. The thought of facing him in his Dragolin form filled her with delicious trepidation and excitement, especially when she wondered if he could take a woman in that form.

No, she didn’t want to lose him. Any part of him.

She explored this thought with wonder. There were other important males in her life. Tentaclar was a good friend. Craig, she admired as a soldier and leader. Izard she could always rely on. Her father was important, she supposed, although she rarely saw him. Yes, if any of them died or were lost to her she would mourn and their passing leave a hole in her life.

But Slyde… The thought of his turning away from her, refusing to adapt himself to her lifestyle, filled her with such a fearful chill that she pulled the covers up around her in a cocoon of warmth and safety.

She knew what it felt like to lose those she loved. The other losses she had suffered had caused her to hide her tender heart inside a nearly impenetrable armor, but the thought of losing Slyde seemed to promise that grief multiplied to the point that she saw herself gazing across the rest of her life as if it were a barren ice planet. If this was love, it was a vast and fearful thing that threatened to swallow her whole.

Chagrined by her maudlin imaginings, she sat up in the bed, rubbing her hands over her face.

“You are awake?” It was Tentaclar. He came into her cubicle and perched on the stool beside her bed, two of his eyes studying her while others checked the readings on the various medical apparatus. “You are troubled,” he observed. “I cannot have my patients fretting. It delays healing.”

“Do you think beings can change?” she asked him. “I mean…even if we don’t quite believe we can?”

“Ah!” he chirped. “A philosophical question. It is amazing how the long hours of rest and healing after a traumatic event can lead to such wonderings.”

She looked at him suspiciously, wondering if he was making fun of her, but he was rocking back on his stool, nodding emphatically.

“I most certainly do believe we can change,” he said. “I am two hundred years old, my dear. I not only have seen such changes, I have experienced them. Sentient beings like ourselves can change, indeed must change, or we will not continue to grow. And that would be a sad thing, would it not?”

He winked at her. “Think back to when you were very young. What did you want then? Do you still want the same things now? Certainly not. And when you are old, will you still want the same things that you want now?”

“Some of them.”

“Oh, of course. Safety, food, companionship, even love. We want those things all of our lives. But adventure, lust, the thrill of danger—those are passions for the young.”

“I don’t plan to give up on lust any time soon,” she murmured.

He chuckled. “A beautiful creature like you? Of course not. But is it the same lust as it was a decade ago? Even a year ago? Or have your desires changed?”

She sighed deeply. “I’m afraid perhaps they have. But what if…this is only another passing fancy?”

He patted her hand. “You will never know, will you? Unless you trust yourself.”

“But if I’m wrong,” she whispered, “I’ll hurt someone very deeply.”

“And what if you do not try at all?” he asked. “You must ask yourself what you and the commander
may
lose if you try, and what both of you
will
lose if you do not try at all.” She cast him a look, and he chuckled. “I did not say it would be easy.”

And with that, he left her. It didn’t occur to her until later that he’d known she was talking about Slyde.

Chapter Thirty

A few hours later, Sirena stood in Slyde’s quarters, staring about her at the empty room. He was gone. Nothing remained of him, even his scent obliterated by the cryogenic cleansing given each unit as soon as it was vacated.

Now that she’d actually admitted she wanted him, needed him,
now
he left her behind? How dare he treat her this way? Save her life, claim her as his mate with the most beautiful lovemaking she had ever experienced and then leave her?

And worse, what if…she could not find him? What if he didn’t want her to find him? What if he had changed his mind?

She stood in the center of the room and began to shiver again, hollow and cold inside. Whirling, she stalked from the room. She slammed into her own stateroom and glared around her at her own belongings. Her hands were shaking with the need to hit something, break something, smash it against his thick head.

She grabbed the nearest object, a delicate shell spun of Serpentian fire-glass, and flung it against the bulkhead. It hit with a smash and fell to the soft carpet. The pieces drew together and began to reform, but she ignored it. Her holo-vid player hit the other wall with a solid thunk. Her favorite chunk of iridium ore, given to her by her father, smacked into the hatch and bounced onto the soft flooring.

“Sirena?” It was Craig’s deep voice on her com-link.