Sword of the King (15 page)

Ken laughed, shaky with more tears. "I'm never sad with you around, Nev." He tousled Nev's hair, caressed his back, and pushed his shirt up so he could touch bare skin, just wanting the stupid, simple comfort of it.

"Love Ken," Nev said softly, nuzzling and rubbing against his stomach.

"Love you, too," Ken said. "If nobody else wants us, that's their fucking loss."

Nev rumbled in agreement and continued to nuzzle Ken, slowly going still as he fell into a doze. Ken let him sleep. He stared out over the lake for a few minutes, and then pulled his phone out of his pocket. Calling up his photo album, he flipped through the pictures. Mostly silly ones he'd taken of Nev, a few were nicer ones of some of the places they'd been. There were several of Rick, Cal, Rick's brothers and their dragons. They were his family, even if it always seemed like there was still a lingering gap between them. Until the Clan acknowledged him, he would always be a fake Cross, standing outside listening to the party inside.

Fuck the Clan. He was a knight, no matter what they said. He'd survived the kidnapping. He'd claimed a knight dragon before he'd even known dragons existed. They kept themselves alive in the pits despite all the odds. He'd barely been fourteen when they were taken; Nev had only turned thirteen a few months before. But they'd survived and thrived ever since. He and Nev didn't need anybody, they'd proven that in the pits. To hell with all of them, especially that stupid fucking Mordred for daring to laugh in his face about it.

Ken drew a ragged breath and let it out slowly, fighting back the ache in his chest and the sting in his eyes. He tucked his phone away, then frowned at the back of his left hand where a real Cross would have an ornate, Gothic style cross tattooed in deep blue ink. The curse of Clan Cross was to endure a plague they'd accidentally brought back centuries ago. Every true Cross member endured the wracking disease; some survived, some did not. Those who died were buried with honor. Those who lived bore the cross.

When he was younger, the tattoo hadn't mattered as much. But with every passing year, the lack of a tattoo became a greater divide between him and the rest of Cross. Even Rick and his brothers—who lived apart from the Clan and rarely interacted with them—bore the mark and would therefore always be accepted.

Ken wasn't in any fucking hurry to be deathly ill, but ...

One doubt always led to another, resurrecting his old fears. What would have become of him and Nev if Rick hadn't saved them? Would they still be fighting? Would it have eventually killed them? Probably. Ken would always be grateful that Rick had gone even further and adopted him, given them a real home. But part of him always felt guilty that Rick had given up so much for them, and wondered if he wished sometimes that someone else had been sent to save them.

Just once, Ken wanted someone to keep him around for no good reason at all. Just because they wanted to.

But when even a knight dragon wasn't good enough for people to count him as family, who the fuck was going to take him for nothing? No one except Nev. He petted Nev's hair and caressed his cheek, bent to press their heads together no matter how it craned his neck.

Sitting up again, he pulled his phone out to snap a picture of Nev, and then took a few of the lake. Tucking it away again, he debated on whether they should stay or go.

Probably go, he conceded, feeling miserable. He should have already called Rick to say he'd found the Pendragon, but ... but if he called, Cross would take the dragon and the credit, and shove him into the background again. As much as he hoped it would make a difference, he knew it wouldn't. Cross would take all the glory, and Ken would be right back to fighting a useless battle. He'd be right back to being alone.

He wanted to stay, but in addition to the Mordred problem there was that the look Rafael and Amr had exchanged in the front yard. It was the same of look exchanged by Clan Lords when they had silent conversations they didn't share with lesser members. Two top dogs like that in one house? With Blaze the prodigy pit fighter?

Nev might be a knight dragon, but he belonged to a nobody. Between him and that fucking Mordred ... yeah, there really wasn't a place for them.

Ken didn't have the heart to wake Nev and tell him they were leaving. He knew Nev enjoyed being around friendly dragons, instead of proper clan dragons whose masters kept a distance or pit dragons ordered to kill him.

How was he supposed to tell Nev that he was letting him down yet again?

Ken rubbed his eyes with the thumb and finger of one hand, wondering where the fuck they should go next. It was just too depressing to hit the road again, especially when he finally thought they were on the right path by helping with Cam.

He looked out over the lake again, stifling a sigh, and decided to just fucking wait until Nev woke up. Enjoying a few minutes of peaceful solitude wouldn't kill anyone.

Several minutes passed with nothing, but the soft whisper of the forest and the lake lapping at the rocks, and Ken started to feel better despite the problems still looming. Combined with all the recent drama, it was enough to make him drowsy, his eyes slipping shut despite his efforts to keep them open.

He was just about to drift off when he heard voices. Ken tensed, in his lap Nev immediately snapped awake, gold eyes glowing as he sensed a threat. But it could just be Blaze or—

No, that laugh was new. Ken held a finger to his lips. Nodding, Nev rolled off his lap and stood, quietly removing his clothes. Ken considered drawing his gun, but in the end left it holstered. The sunlight glinted off Nev's scales as he slipped into the dark shade of the trees and back toward the house.

Staying in the cover of the trees, they watched as nine men walked along the footpath, four of them dragons, the remaining five armed to the teeth. He didn't know what syndicate they were from, but he knew syndicate goons when he saw them.

Trouble had arrived, then, and was trying to sneak through the woods. But the real question was:  Why were they heading away from Rafael's house rather than toward it?

The question answered itself as another group rounded the bend. Ken saw that they carried an unconscious Cam, bound and thrown over the shoulders of a man even Ken would not want to meet in a dark alley.

Damn it, Cam must have been out for a walk or something; Rafael had no doubt sent him out when Amr arrived until he could be certain Cam would be safe around Amr.

Fuck fuck fuck.

Ken motioned to Nev, who silently slipped away into the trees to weave his way around and trap them from behind. Drawing his gun, Ken drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. He waited until they were close, then broke cover, aimed at the nearest guy, and fired.

He nailed the bastard right in the back, and managed to clip another before he was forced to dive for cover. In the next second, he heard screams as Nev made his appearance. As soon as the guns stopped firing, Ken leapt from cover again and managed to kill the second guy, before he nailed a third. Someone fired a shot that barely missed him, and Ken quickly returned fire before dodging behind another tree.

He didn't reemerge until he heard Nev roar in triumph, and then he slowly made his way out. If he went down there was no telling how Nev would react; only a really stupid owner risked himself more than strictly necessary in a fight instead of trusting his dragon.

Most of the men were down, and Nev made short work of those remaining. Two of the four dragons cowered after seeing how quickly and easily he killed their companions. Growling, his muzzle and chest streaked with blood, Nev stalked toward them.

The two dragons, one flame, one rock, growled and snarled, tensed for a last battle—until all three froze at the sound of people rushing toward them. Ken tensed, lifted his gun, and waited.

He slumped in relief and lowered the gun again as he saw Blaze, Erie, and all the others.

"What the fuck?" Blaze demanded.

Nev ignored them, running over to Ken. He shifted. "Ken okay?"

"Of course I'm—" It was only then that Ken realized he was in pain. Nev whined with frantic worry, reaching out toward the wound at Ken's side where a bullet must have clipped him.

Damn it.

He really wished the not noticing had lasted just a little longer. "I'm okay, Nev. I do worse to myself all the time, you know that."

"Ken hurt."

"It just looks like a lot of blood," Ken said, holding one hand to the wound, reaching out with the other to give Nev's arms a reassuring squeeze. "Come on, let's go join the others and we can go back to the house and get me patched—"

The last thing he heard was Nev roaring in dismay.

*~*~*

Ken woke up in a dark room with Nev plastered to his uninjured side. He felt overheated, itchy, and cranky. Of course he'd managed to get himself shot, and of course he'd passed out.

Nev groaned as he stirred, protesting the disturbance, then finally lifted his head. Grumpiness at being awake immediately vanished as he realized Ken was awake. "Better? Okay? No hurt? Ken hurt, Nev bad—"

Ken stopped the flood of words with a kiss, sinking his hand into Nev's hair and fisting it tightly, not giving Nev any choice but to hold still. Nev tasted like dragon—metal and smoke and blood—with a faint hint of the caramels he loved so damn much. He tasted like the only home Ken understood. "Good dragon," he whispered when he finally drew back, easing his grip and combing through Nev's hair. "I'm fine, just feeling sore and stupid. Are you okay?"

"Fine. Not hurt. Ken hurt." Nev whined and nuzzled against him, hands opening and closing on Ken's body as though he didn't know quite what to do with himself.

"I'm fine," Ken repeated. "Banged up like usual, never gonna win a beauty contest, but fine, dragon. As long as you're okay, I'm good."

Nev growled, low and soft, and lightly nipped his jaw. "Nev fine."

"How's Cam?"

"Sleep. Lots of drugs. Sleep all night, Raf says."

Ken grunted at that. "I'm not surprised. The leak, whoever the fuck he is, would have told people what it took to capture Cam in the first time. Poor bastard, he doesn't get to go for anymore walks. Get off me, dragon."

Nev growled and didn't budge.

"Dragon, I need to take a piss. It's a stupid scratch, I'm not going to die. There's no way, after collapsing like a fucking wuss, that any god would be kind enough to let me die. Now get up." He pinched Nev's ass for good measure, laughing when Nev yelped. Laughing hurt, but it was worth it.

He groaned as he slowly climbed out of bed, feeling like an old man as he ambled to the bathroom. Grimacing at the light as he flicked it on, Ken made quick work of pissing, but got caught up staring at himself in the mirror as he washed his hands.

As per usual, he looked like shit. It was one fucking bullet, and a graze at that, why did he look like someone ran him over with a truck? He examined the bandages wrapped around his chest, grimacing. Was that much bandaging really necessary for a fucking graze?

Ken slowly walked back into the bedroom. He sat down at the foot of the bed, wincing and holding his side as it protested the movement, and tried to decide what they should do.

The clock on the nightstand said it was just after ten pm. Good time for sneaking away, though he felt guilty not thanking someone for keeping his stupid, unwanted ass alive.

He smiled as Nev sat at his feet and laid his head in Ken's lap, rumbling softly. Ken threaded his fingers through Nev's hair. "Why are you sucking up, dragon?"

"Stay?" Nev asked, speaking so softly that Ken barely heard him.

His smile faded as the words registered. "You really want to stay?"

Nev drew a breath and looked up at him, amber eyes so bright and earnest that they twisted Ken's gut. "It's good here."

The words were a punch to his gut, as his mind flipped through all the reasons he'd planned on leaving, all the reasons no one would care if they did—but Nev never asked him for anything.

If making Nev happy meant putting up with every nasty, condescending, frustrating remark that Mordred made, then fine, Ken would grit his teeth and put up with it. "If you want to stay, then we'll stay, unless someone tells us to leave. Okay?"

Nev beamed, and then reared up to kiss him, sloppy and overeager and the happiest Ken had seen him in forever. "Let me up, Nev, I need to go find food." He stood up slowly after Nev backed away, then walked to the door—and hesitated.

There was nothing quite as bad as having to face people after making a fool of himself, especially when they'd saved his life shortly thereafter. How the fuck did he get himself into so many stupid situations time and time again?

Stifling a sigh, annoyed with himself, Ken yanked the door open and slowly made his way down the hall. Nearly all the lights in the house were off, so maybe everyone was asleep and he'd actually catch a break for once.

As he drew closer to the living room, he could see flickering blue-white lights that could only belong to a television. Making a face, he forced himself to keep walking until he reached the living room.

To his relief, it was only Blaze, sprawled across the couch and idly flipping channels. Erie, in dragon form, was curled up on the floor in the middle of the room fast asleep. No Amr, thank fucking god. He hesitated, then decided that if Blaze hadn't noticed him then it was best not to bug him.

He was halfway to the kitchen when Blaze called out, "You're awake sooner than Raf said you'd be."

Ken stopped, one hand going reflexively for his aching side before he caught the movement and forced himself to hold still. "I've been clipped by bullets before; I don't know why this particular one knocked me on my ass so hard."

"It was spelled," Blaze said. "Amr sensed the magical residue on you, and he found the bullet not too far off. He said there was a spell on it to encourage blood loss. Nasty sorcery, he called it. I didn't even know Amr knew magic."

"Well, yeah," Ken said. "He's a Mordred. The Mordred originally belonged to the Clan le Fay, which is the only official clan that still practices magic. Morgana, who helped create the knight dragons, founded the Clan le Fay. Dragons are weak to magic, so its use is mostly forbidden amongst the clans, but we—" He broke off, then corrected himself. "The clans would be stupid to go without it entirely, so the magic they do use is heavily restricted and regulated. Clan Mordred abandoned le Fay and the others in part, they say, because they refused to obey all the strictures regarding magic."