Sword of the King (11 page)

"Inside," Rafael replied, and climbed back up the steps to hold the door for them. Once they were in, he half-turned to wait for the pair still by the cars—

And tried not to stare at the man who walked toward him. Jesus. He knew from descriptions and process of elimination that the man must be Blaze, but his description didn't do him justice. His hair was black, mussed and in need of a trim, but the messy look somehow softened his sharp features. He had a mouth to die for, a nose that looked like it had been broken a few times, and the greenest eyes Rafael had ever seen. He was short and compact, all muscle and grace.

Rafael had grown up around pit fighters, had seen them come in all shapes and sizes, but not a one looked as born and bred for it as Blaze. His name suited him all the way to the ground. Rafael shivered.

Blaze's dragon was nothing to sneer at either, and Rafael was excited to finally meet the notorious, nigh-unbeatable Eros. He was taller than Blaze—seemed like pretty much everyone was—but not quite as tall as Rafael. His hair was dirty blonde, eyes the trademark dragon amber, and he definitely had the wild edge of an egg-raised dragon.

"Hello," Rafael greeted, extending a hand, startled by the jolt that shot through him as Blaze shook it. Those green eyes met his, studied him, and Rafael found himself wondering what Blaze saw. The reclusive brother of Leo St. George? The pathetic bruises on his face? That he was very much a pretty boy in a world where pretty was sneered at?

He wasn't normally so insecure, but he also normally didn't see someone and immediately want to fuck him into the nearest wall. Whatever Rafael had been expecting of Blaze, it wasn't for him to be so distracting.

Blaze grunted, let go of his hand. "You must be Rafael. I'm Blaze. This is Erie."

"A pleasure to meet you both," Rafael said. "Thanks for coming. Uh. Come inside, would you like some coffee?"

"Coffee sounds great," Blaze said, and preceded him inside, following the sound of voices into the kitchen.

Rafael went to the coffee machine while the others milled about and talked. He fixed Leo's coffee first and took it to him—and silently swore when Leo pinned Rafael's hand to the counter with his own. "You didn't answer your phone when I called last night."

"I was busy cleaning the place up, never heard it ring," Rafael said, keeping his eyes downcast. His cheeks flushed, knowing that Leo was going to punish and humiliate him in front of everyone. Why had he thought guests might be enough to make Leo behave? With so many dragons and masters in one room, Leo wanted to remind them all he was still top dog. "I forgot to check it when I went to bed. When I woke up this morning and checked, I thought it would be better just to focus on being ready than call you back. You know I'd never let you down or disappoint you on purpose, Leo."

He hid a wince as Leo's fingers bit painfully into his wrist.  "Answer your fucking phone when I call," Leo said, and slapped him.

"Yes, Leo," Rafael replied quietly. "Did you want anything to go with your coffee?"

"No."

Nodding, Rafael poured coffee for Ken and Blaze, and forced himself to meet their eyes as he asked, "Did your dragons want any?" He laughed when both of the dragons made faces at him. "No, then. Breakfast, anyone?"

"Enough with the fucking homemaker bullshit," Leo snapped. "Where the fuck is my dragon?"

Rafael set his coffee down, wondering irritably if he was going to be able to finish a cup of coffee that day. "He and Conway are in Conway's bedroom; I didn't know how many people would be coming and it's not a good idea to have Cam around a lot of people." He looked pointedly at Leo's perpetual collection of assistant and three bodyguards, hovering at the back of the kitchen after having hauled Ken and Blaze's belongings inside.

Leo dismissed them with a gesture and a grunt. "Get him."

Stifling the retort he wanted to make, Rafael obediently went to fetch Cam. Conway was already in the hallway, and reached for Rafael as he approached. "Don't," Rafael said tightly when Conway growled. "It's okay. Leo wants to see Cam."

"Not him again," Cam groused, pulling on a plain black t-shirt as he ambled out into the hallway. "That guy—"

"Will always overhear you at the worst possible moment," Rafael cut in. "So keep your opinions in your head where they can't hurt you or anyone else, please."

Cam immediately looked abashed, and winced when he saw Rafael's red cheek. "Sorry."

"It's okay," Rafael said. "It's no one's fault but Leo's. Come on, you can meet the others." He turned and walked back to the kitchen, trailed by Cam and Conway.

Erie and Nev both growled as Cam entered the room, tensing, lowering their heads, and Rafael was reminded all over again of the way Conway had described Cam as a 'Master dragon'.

"Jesus," Blaze said, staring at Cam, then looking at Rafael. "He's something else."

Rafael swallowed, wondering what Blaze would say if Rafael said the same thing about him. Christ, he needed to focus. "Yes, he is. You can see why we wanted to bring in outside assistance. He gets along with Conway, and he's okay in smaller groups, but until he shifts and we're confident that he can be controlled I don't want him out anywhere else."

Cam laughed. "Yeah, can't take 'him' anywhere."

Blaze's brows shot up. "You're remarkably human for a dragon."

"So I'm told," Cam said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. He smiled at the room, then bowed his head as his gaze landed on Leo. "Good morning, boss," he said politely. "I promise I'll train hard for you."

"I know," Leo grunted, and stood up. "Rafael, keep  me informed, I want frequent reports. The minute you've taught it how to shift, call me. I want it fighting sooner rather than later, so don't take forever. Three months to show me real results, understand?"

Rafael caught Blaze's arm when he started to speak, and said, "Three months, Leo."

Leo nodded. "Then I'm leaving. I'll send someone out daily to check on you. Any problems, call. Answer your fucking phone when I call you, I mean it."

"Yes, Leo," Rafael said, and only when Leo was gone that did he notice that he was still gripping Blaze's arm—tightly, he realized, seeing the nail marks he'd left. "I'm sorry."

Blaze shrugged. "Forget it. Your brother is a piece of work, if you don't mind me saying."

"No one steers clear of St. George because we're nice and ask politely," Rafael replied. "So, would anyone like breakfast?"

"I would fucking love breakfast," Blaze said. "Is there more coffee? Sit down, good fucking grief. I can get it." He picked up Rafael's mug and handed it to him, then went to refill his own. Returning, he sat down next to Rafael and asked, "So is that your dragon?"

Rafael looked at Conway, who growled and looked so much like a kicked puppy it hurt. "Conway belongs to Leo, all the best dragons do." His fingers tightened on his mug as he swallowed around the lump in his throat. "But, Conway is assigned to me a lot, so he's sort of mine."

"He's yours," Ken said, startling Rafael. "He hasn't staked his claim, but he's yours. No dragon would ever obey a weasel like Leo unless his owner told him to."

"Owner?" Rafael said, staring at him, frowning. "Leo is his owner. What do you mean, staked his claim?" His heart began to thud in his chest with fear, and beat even faster at the knowing look Ken gave him. But that meant Ken had probably done the same with his own dragon—fucked him, like they were always told not.

Ken spread his hands, "I'm not here to cause trouble, I promise. Nev has sure as hell claimed me, and Erie has claimed Blaze. We know how to keep our mouths shut. But whether you've let Conway mark you or not, you're his owner."

"Why do you keep saying owner?"

"He means master," Blaze said, mouth quirking in an adorably boyish way before he glanced at Ken and mock-glared at him. "Ken is a little funny in the head."

Disappointment dropped into Rafael's stomach like lead, putting him off even his coffee. How had he missed that Blaze and Ken were a thing? Hell, it was for the best, really. He wouldn't have been stupid enough to make a move, because even just fucking somebody was enough for Leo to use that person against Rafael. But he'd like that the possibility had been there. Having it so definitively taken away sucked.

But who was he kidding? Someone like Blaze wouldn't go for Rafael, for a very long list of reasons, beginning and ending with Leo.

So, yeah, it was for the best that Blaze was taken.

Picking up his coffee, Rafael forced himself to finish it before he started putting breakfast together. Thankfully, with two dragons in the house and knowing there would be more, he did not lack for food. He would definitely have to increase the size of his grocery orders, though. Writing himself a note on the whiteboard by the back door, he pulled out eggs, sausage, bacon, and the necessary ingredients for pancakes.

When the bacon and sausage were cooking, he started to mix together the pancake batter. He walked toward the bar where the others were still gathered. "You said Triad came after you?"

Blaze nodded. "Yeah, and I wouldn't be surprised if other syndicates start to make an appearance. I don't know if it was St. George or Rust who sprang a leak, but word is definitely out now. Nothing we can't handle though." He winked at Rafael, then shared a smirk with Ken.

Rafael mustered a smile in return, and then went back to the stove to finish cooking. Thirty minutes later all was ready and he dished out the food, leaving the syrup, salt, pepper, butter, and nearly an entire loaf of toasted bread where everyone could reach it.

He ate his own food in silence, letting the chatter wash over him. Conway was getting along with the other dragons, at least, which made him happy. Normally he was trapped in Leo's high-rise rooms with dragons that had been broken to obedience and had no real life left in them. Rafael didn't really know how Conway had escaped that fate, but he was eternally grateful.

A hand covered his thigh under the edge of the bar, squeezed gently, and Rafael looked up with a smile. "I'm fine, Conway." Conway rumbled, but subsided, picking unhappily at his breakfast. Rafael dropped his own hand to cover Conway's, still on his thigh, and squeezed it lightly. "Seriously, lizard. I'm fine. Stop sulking and eat, because if you're too tired to show the rest of these dragons what-for later, you're not getting any pumpkin pie."

Conway growled at that, narrowing his eyes. Withdrawing his hand, he reached up to lightly touch Rafael's abused cheek. "Bad boss. Good Raf."

"Something like that," Rafael said with a smile. "Now stop being a brat and eat."

"Yes, Raf," Conway said, and began to eat his breakfast with renewed enthusiasm.

Blaze finished a large bite of pancakes, then jabbed his fork in Conway's direction. "He's a frost, right? I think I've seen him pitted before, though only the high stakes fights, if I recall correctly." He ate another bite. "These are great."

"Uh, thanks," Rafael said, wondering if there was a way to ask Blaze to hide those green eyes. He wasn't used to being so distracted by anyone's presence, not since Marianne. He'd learned his lesson. The dragons and Leo were more than he could handle, and running the coffeehouse was the closest he got to relaxing. Conway was dangerous enough. "Yeah, he's a frost. He's a damned good pit fighter, but he's also remarkably self-sufficient for a dragon and so Leo prefers to use him for other things most of the time. But when he absolutely needs a fight won and the opponent is a wild card, he brings out Conway."

"I'm surprised Erie has never faced him. Fire and ice always makes for an interesting fight," Blaze said thoughtfully. "But, it's just as well, because I'd hate to see either one of them hurt and with that kind of match up people would expect a brutal fight."

Rafael nodded in agreement, true respect for Blaze blossoming, growing. He really was unique for a pit fighter—he actually seemed to care about Erie, which Rafael hadn't expected. "I've heard a lot of things about Erie. I was surprised Rust agreed to lend you out." He wouldn't doubt if Rust had ulterior motives, all bosses did.

The quick, rueful look Blaze shot him made Rafael freeze in surprise—then laugh softly as he finished his scrambled eggs. Looking up, he glanced at Ken. "Are you from the Rust Syndicate? I've never heard your name before. What kind of dragon is Nev?"

Ken shrugged. "I don't belong anywhere, and Nev is special." He reached out to cup Nev's cheek, and Rafael smiled at the way Nev promptly nuzzled into the touch, rumbling happily.

He'd been expecting a lot of machismo, a lot of trouble. The group before him seemed almost too good to be true. Looking to Cam, sitting at the far end of the bar quietly eating, Rafael asked, "How are you feeling?"

"Twitchy," Cam said. "Exactly like you said I would, when more dragons came around. Is it stupid to think that I'd be lashing my tail if I had one?"

Rafael laughed, joined by the others. "No, no weird at all. You probably would be, and then I'd have to send you to your room because I'm really tired of replacing all the tiles and paneling in this kitchen." He looked pointedly at Conway, who rumbled innocently and paid very close attention to his last two sausage links. Rafael looked back at Cal. "With so many dragons around, I think you'll find it easier to learn how to change. I know for a fact that Conway and Erie don't need changers, and I'd be surprised if Nev did ... " Ken shook his head. "So, yes. With three such capable dragons, you'll be shifting in no ti ... "

He trailed off as Ken and Blaze exchanged a look he couldn't read. "What?" he asked, starting to feel on edge. He should have known. When he'd thought something seemed too good to be true, that was the first clue that it
was
too good to be true.

"We need to talk," Ken said quietly. "You're not at all what we were expecting."

"The feeling is mutual," Raphael said irritably. "Fine. We'll talk outside." He didn't wait for them to reply, just stood and headed out the back door, into the enormous green yard that eventually gave over to the forest surrounding his home. "So talk," he said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans, glaring at them, wondering just what kind of trouble he was in and how badly Leo would beat him because of it.