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Authors: Sean Michael

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Scales (Shifter Rescue 1)

BOOK: Scales (Shifter Rescue 1)
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Scales (Shifter Rescue 1)

Sean Michael

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2015 Sean Michael

BIN: 07445-02401
Formats Available:
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HTML, Mobi/PRC
 
Publisher:
Changeling Press LLC
315 N. Centre St.
Martinsburg, WV 25404
www.ChangelingPress.com
 
Editor: Katriena Knights
Cover Artist: Karen Fox

Adult Sexual Content

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Table of Contents

Scales (Shifter Rescue 1)

Prologue

Chapters One

Chapters Two

Chapters Three

Chapters Four

Chapters Five

Chapters Six

Sean Michael

 

Scales (Shifter Rescue 1)

Sean Michael

 

 

Sometimes life gives you something magical -- if Drill can rescue a dragon that is.

 

The Old Tavern Club is a front for a shifter rescue organization. The BDSM club works well in keeping the owner’s true purpose secret, but when Pirou makes an unusual rescue, it might just be beyond the clubs purview. So he calls in Drill, the owner’s brother.

 

Drill has never even heard of a dragon shifter before much less seen one, yet that’s exactly what the beast in the club’s basement looks like. As he works with the dragon, he finds all his instincts insisting that this is the sub he’s been looking for.

 

Can Drill and Az the dragon rescue a happy ending for themselves?

Prologue

 

It wasn’t often that Pirou didn’t know exactly what to do. It was his job, to do things, to fix things. He excelled at it. He loved it. He made the boss happy. He made the club members happy. He made the shifters they rescued happy. He made his employees happy. It was what he did, for fuck’s sake.

Okay. Okay. Thinking. Thinking. How was he going to tell the boss about this without getting his ass handed to him on a silver platter?
Dear boss, it wasn’t my fault, exactly. I mean, I didn’t mean to do it, but the poor thing needed help and

Yeah. Shit.

Okay, how about,
You know how our mandate is to rescue shifters and how I often just go ahead without your approval
?

He rolled his eyes at himself. God, it wasn’t like the boss was going to murder him, right? Their mandate was to rescue shifters, after all. They only had so many facilities for the big ones, it was true. He always checked with the boss to make sure they had the room because some of their rescues were feral, and you couldn’t have a lion going after the rest of the inhabitants. So he almost always did fly rescues by the boss. Like 99.99999999 percent of the time.

It was just… he’d never expected a dragon. He wasn’t sure anyone ever expected a dragon.

One of his informants had contacted him, though, begged him for help. It was easy to smuggle the abused shifters out, as a rule, the ones addicted to Star or Spark, the ones marked for slavery. This one, though. How did you control something that was magic made flesh? How did you hide a shifter like this one from the folks who were members of the non-shifter rescue portion of the club?

And what the fuck was he supposed to do with it? Him? Whatever it was when the sedatives wore off? At least it wasn’t a Tolkien-sized dragon…

The boss was totally going to kill him.

Assuming the bright blue winged lizard beast didn’t tear the place down first.

Shit.

Chapters One

 

Drill headed into the Old Tavern Club, the subtle BDSM club that was the front for his brother Drongo’s shifter rescue operation. Having members who needed discretion and wouldn’t blab themselves if they saw weird things made the place legit and let them offer safe places for their rescues to stay. Only a handful of people who worked in the club knew what was really going on.

He smiled at the twink working the coat check tonight. He’d had that ass a time or two. Over his knee, around his cock. As a part of his cover as a club member, of course.

Heading for the bar, he smiled at Fargo. “Whiskey, neat. And tell Pirou I’m here, please.” Here as requested, summoned almost, although Pirou would never, ever admit to anything so… toppy.

“You got it. How’s life treating you, man?”

“Good. I’m building a third golf course on the far side of the city.” He made a good living with the golf courses, and the best part was that they practically ran themselves, giving him a lot of time for his true passion -- helping with the shifters that made their way here.

It was Pirou who answered him, Fargo fading away to the other end of the bar. “Excellent. I’m glad to hear it.” There were heavy lines of worry on Pirou’s face and they looked totally out of place.

The slinky kitty worked hard, but Drill knew he loved his job, was happiest working at it, helping people.

Reaching out, he touched Pirou’s cheek. “So why did you call me down here?”

“I need help.” Pirou was usually far more loquacious than that.

“I figured that much out, sweet kitty. I’ll be needing more details.” In the end, though, he imagined he’d help Pirou, just because it was Pirou.

“Come walk with me?”

Oh, it must be bad.
He picked up the whiskey Fargo had brought and downed it. “Okay, lead on.”

Pirou took his hand, fingers sliding on his, touching and playing.

He brought their hands to his mouth, kissing Pirou’s knuckles. “You’re buttering me up.”

“I’m worried. I’m in big trouble with the boss.”

He found that hard to believe, given that Pirou was the soul of the Old Tavern Club. “What did you do?”

“You know how, sometimes, I find an unusual rescue and bring it in even though it’s not our usual werewolf or werekitty?”

Something like constantly? Pirou was the softest touch on Earth and had contacts everywhere. Like he was almost scarily connected.

“I have heard you have a hobby, yes.” Drill teased gently. His brother often said that he had a theory that Pirou went out of his way looking for the hard cases, for the strange beasts.

“Well, I have one downstairs. He’s… special. Like for real. Like oh, my God.”

“They aren’t all special?” He wasn’t teasing anymore -- it was an honest question. He could remember the lion Pirou had taken in, the poor thing so bedraggled and abused no one had thought he’d live. No one except Pirou, who had nursed the beast back to health. Then there’d been the zebra. Talk about high-strung. They weren’t really equipped to deal with equine shifters, didn’t have anyone qualified to help them. Pirou had made it happen.

“Yeah, but most of them are normal special. Not about-to-get-me-fired special.”

“Okay, okay, you did it -- I’m intrigued now.” Because Drill couldn’t imagine anything that would make Drongo fire his beloved Pirou.

“He’s in the basement. He’s sedated. I’m scared to let him wake up.”

“You’re making him sound like a serial killer.”

“God, I hope not.” Pirou’s fervent words made him even more intrigued.

They headed past the kitchen, deep into the basement. It was clean, but… uncomfortable. Underground was far away from the air, from the sky and clouds.

Drill wrinkled his nose. “A vampire?”

“No. No, he’s… Here. It’s easier to just show you. I won’t open the door, in case he’s awake.”

Drill pressed his nose against the window in the door, but it was dark and he couldn’t see anything. Before he could complain, Pirou pressed a button and a light came on highlighting a shape draped over the mattress, which was the only furniture the room boasted.

Long tail, wings like a bat, pointed snout, sapphire-blue scales. Whoa.

“Pirou… That’s… he’s… a
dragon
.” Drill was stunned.

“Uh-huh.”

“Why is he here?” There had to be a reason the dragon was one of Pirou’s special projects
and
sedated. Hell, Drill hadn’t even known there was such a thing as a dragon shifter. No, he hadn’t even known there was such a thing as a dragon. They were a thing of legends.

“The slavers had him. My contact said that they hadn’t managed to get him to wake yet.”

“Slavers!” That made him growl. “So you don’t know if he’s even sane or not, let alone a shifter.”

“I don’t know anything except that he’s a dragon and he needs help,” Pirou admitted.

“And you want me to help him and find out as much as I can before you have to tell my brother what you’ve done.”

“Uh-huh. Please.”

“You’re lucky I like you, Pirou.” Drill went to the door. “I’m going in.” He wasn’t one to pussyfoot around.

“Just like that?”

He shrugged. “You said you don’t know anything about him, right? Well, we aren’t going to learn more by sitting here and looking.”

“I did. Do. Should I get help?”

“Just lock the door behind me.”

“Are you sure?” Pirou looked so tired, so worried.

Drill cupped Pirou’s cheek. “I’m sure, Pirou. Everything is going to be fine. You go and get some sleep or a meal or fix something. I’ve got this.” And if he wasn’t entirely sure, well, Pirou didn’t need to know that.

Pirou leaned hard. “I’m… I owe you.”

Drill nodded -- Pirou so did. “And at some point, I’ll collect.” Bending, he kissed Pirou’s nose.

“Thank you, dearest.” Pirou hugged him tight. “I couldn’t let someone hurt him. Even if he’s not a shifter, he’s magic.”

A dragon. Magic indeed. And if he was a shifter, that just made him that much more amazing.

“Go on. And lock the door to the basement.” Drill didn’t want to risk anyone being hurt. Or his dragon getting away.

Pirou nodded, heading up, obviously reluctant to leave him alone.

Drill waited a few minutes, watching his dragon through the window in the door. It was the most beautiful being he’d ever seen -- even skinny and still. The sapphire scales were lovely, and he found himself fascinated.

Who on Earth would want to trap a beast like that? And if he was a shifter, what did the man look like?

When some time had passed, Drill unlocked the door and went in, closing it behind him. Ah, this dragon was a shifter -- Drill could smell it, smell the man twined with the beast. Fascinating. He was so glad Pirou had called him to handle this -- he wouldn’t have given up this experience for the world.

The wee dragon backed away, curled into itself. “No more. Please.”

“Oh you’re awake. And you talk in your dragon form.” How unusual. Special. Pirou had called it magical. “You’re not with those people anymore, the ones who wanted to hurt you, sell you.”

“No more.” The dragon looked at him, eyes shockingly bright, like jewels lit from within.

Drill moved slowly closer. “No more what?”

“The darts. No more. Please.”

Oh, the sedatives. He imagined they could make someone sick as a dog. “No. There won’t be any more darts. I don’t want to hurt you or keep you doped up.” Just the idea of it made him want to growl. Loudly. He didn’t figure that would make the dragon trust him any more.

Those keen eyes never left him, watching him like a laser.

He watched back. “Do you have a name?”

“Yes.”

Okay… that didn’t help. Drill chuckled softly. “What is it?”

“Az. I’m called Az.”

“Hi, Az. I’m Drill.”

“Are you bad?” Az asked.

“No. I’m not.” Would he admit it if he was? “My friend rescued you from the slavers.”

Az stayed curled up where he was, eyes still focused like an eagle’s.

“Am I right? Are you a shifter?” He moved slowly, from one side of the room to the other, checking out as much of Az as he could see without actually moving closer.

The wings fluttered. Was that worry? Distress?

“It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me.” He stopped when he was directly in front of Az’s head and crouched there, bringing them on the same level.

BOOK: Scales (Shifter Rescue 1)
5.6Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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