Sword of the King (2 page)

They rode the elevator to the twentieth floor, where the luxury apartments were located. Rust was a bastard, but he took good care of his people when they didn't let him down. Once inside, he flicked on the main lights and left their helmets on top of the storage chest in the entryway. He sat down to unlace his boots, the shrugged out of his leather jacket and hung it up on its hook over the storage chest. Emptying his pockets, leaving his keys, wallet, and cell on the hall table, he led the way across the living room and down the hall to the bedroom at the very end. In the master bath, Blaze turned on the shower and began to strip. "Come on, dragon. You stink."

Erie eagerly discarded his clothes and slid into the shower. The water was hot, almost too hot for Blaze; he knew that if Erie were showering alone, it would be even hotter. But Erie had fought extremely well against a more experienced dragon; he deserved a reward.

Blaze slid into the shower and groaned as the hot water hit his muscles. Fuck that felt good. He beamed at Erie as he reached for the soap and the rough-texture sponge that Erie loved so much. He smiled softly, in a way that only Erie drew out of him, as Erie rumbled in satisfaction. Once he'd finished scrubbing every inch of Erie's smooth, tanned skin, Blaze switched to shampoo, lathering it in Erie's hair, dragging his fingers through the thick strands.

Finally Erie was clean, and Blaze turned to cleaning himself, pretending all the while that they weren't both painfully hard.

"Blaze," Erie said in his quiet voice, a note of hungry pleading in it. Blaze was helpless against that tone, against all the emotions that filled Erie's yellow eyes. "Blaze."

Erie's hand dropped to Blaze's thigh, smoothed over the lurid scars left by Erie's claws. Claiming marks or something; Blaze didn't dare ask someone else what it might mean because if anyone found out that he had broken one of the most important rules regarding masters and dragons ...

Never fuck a dragon, that was the rule. All masters were cautioned about the way dragons tried to trick their masters into believing they were human when in fact they weren't. Even the dragons who had started as humans and been changed were no longer human, something easy to forget but important to remember. Blaze had remembered it—until the day that Erie had lost his first fight.

He'd been so depressed, so ... so broken, that he wouldn't cheer up no matter what Blaze said or did to reassure him. Nothing had worked until, in desperation, Blaze had stopped listening to pit rules and listened to his mentor instead. Amr had told him a lot of things about dragons that wouldn't make Rust very happy, but Blaze hadn't been able to resist. He loved Erie, and wanted to know all he could.

Amr had called Blaze his finest student. He'd first shown up when Blaze was fifteen and Erie five, Blaze had been wary. He didn't want to be specially trained; he just wanted for them to be left alone. But changing his mind had only been a matter of days; Amr was the best thing that ever happened to them. Blaze had been quietly devastated when he'd left, after Rust had decided he'd overstayed his welcome.

One of the things he remembered best was Amr telling him that to be close to his dragon was a good thing, not a bad thing. That loving them, fucking them, wasn't wrong.

So Blaze had broken down that night after Erie had lost a fight, and kissed him. He didn't want to go further, afraid of what might happen if they went too far and go caught, but he wasn't sorry when the kiss led to him being fucked senseless and with fresh wounds on his thigh. He was still worried someone would find out, but as long as they kept kicking ass and making Rust happy, no one would.

"You were good today, Erie. Beautiful and perfect." He smiled at the way Erie glowed at the praise. "You can do whatever you want, and then we'll go out and I'll buy you a mint ice cream."

Erie growled happily and promptly dropped to his knees in the shower. "Wait, wait," Blaze said with a laugh. "Let's do this in bed, Erie. Not the shower." Growling impatiently, Erie nevertheless obeyed, though he barely waited for Blaze to turn the shower off before dragging him into the bedroom and pushing him down onto the bed. Blaze tugged him down for a hungry kiss, biting at his lips, sucking on his tongue, and moaning into Erie's mouth as he ground their cocks together. Pulling back, Erie licked his lips, and then bent to start nipping, kissing and licking his way down Blaze's body. He bit Blaze's nipples, softly kissed the scars left by knives, bullets, and a goblin's teeth.

Blaze yanked at his hair. "Enough teasing, Erie. Fuck me."

Growling, Erie pressed a sucking kiss on his cock then obediently withdrew to get the lube, growling in annoyance until he finally found it. It didn't take long for him to prep Blaze, who had never liked gentle treatment. Withdrawing his fingers, Erie lined up his cock and thrust inside. Blaze arched up into him, hissing and swearing, his nails digging into Erie's shoulders.

Rumbling, Erie nuzzled his shoulder then pulled back, dragged Blaze's legs up over his shoulders, and began to pound into him. Blaze let go of Erie to grip the headboard, meeting every thrust. He alternated between swearing, begging, and calling Erie's name as he was fucked so hard he knew he would feel it for days—exactly the way he liked it. "Erie!" he shouted before he came all over them both, moaning as he felt claws dig into his skin as Erie growled and came.

Slowly pulling apart, they lay there panting and recovering, eventually curling back together to doze for a bit. When he finally dragged his eyes open again, he saw from the alarm clock they'd been asleep at least an hour. He pressed a lazy kiss to his Erie's shoulder. "We're going to need another shower, dragon."

Erie rumbled his approval and cuddled close, completely uncaring of the sticky mess between them. "Good Erie. Get Blaze. Get mint? See butterflies?"

"You're a spoiled brat, but yes, we'll go see the girls. They love cooing over you. Get up, dragon." Rolling out of bed, Blaze went to the bathroom and turned the shower back on. Cleaning should have taken them all of ten minutes, but by the time Erie was done surprising him with a voracious round two, they'd run out of hot water. He snapped Erie's ass with a towel and hustled him into the bedroom to dress. Rifling through his closet and dresser, he threw a pair of jeans and a navy blue t-shirt at Erie, and then pulled on leather pants and a gray long sleeved t-shirt himself. He used the towel to dry his hair and running a comb over it, then dug out a pair of socks before heading for the entryway where he left his boots.

Finally, he opened the entryway closet and pulled out the Beretta he kept there. Putting on his shoulder holster, he checked the gun and slid it into place before shrugging into his black leather jacket. Ready, they left the building and walked the four blocks to their favorite dive; a shitty little strip club always on the verge of closing. The girls were sweet, the drinks were good, and he didn't have to pay for shit because his favoring the place meant nobody dared fuck with it.

He greeted the bouncer, Chuck, with a nod as he entered the lobby. Ignoring the window where a handful of other guys stood in line to pay and get their hands stamped, he pushed through the second door and strolled into the club.

It was a little busy for a Thursday night, but he recognized a few faces in the dim light; mostly they belonged to men hoping to impress him or some other bullshit.  He never told them it was a waste of time. The only friends he had were Erie and the girls, and the only "friends" he made were on Rust's orders. He went to Club Heaven to relax, not work. Candi smiled at him as she flew past to attend her tables, and Roxie waved at him from the bar, letting him know she was getting his drink.

Blaze waved back an acknowledgement, then took his regular seat, smiling as he watched Silver dance. She was beautiful:  gold skin, gold hair, and by that point dressed in only a tiny thong. She had her audience completely enthralled.

May showed up a minute later with his jack and coke, and a bowl of mint chocolate chip ice cream for Erie. "Thank you, butterfly," Erie said and began eating, rumbling happily all the while.

Blaze smiled at her and passed her a generous tip to share around with all the girls. "Thanks, baby. How are things going tonight?"

"Watch the back corner," May said, bending to kiss his cheek as she discreetly tucked the money away. "He's been here awhile, like he's been waiting for something or someone. Doesn't talk to anyone else, except to ask questions. He's a master, got a dragon with him, and he keeps asking about Rust and the pits. Claims to be independent."

He kissed her cheek. "Thanks. I'll take care of it."

She smiled, patted Erie's head affectionately and then scurried off. On stage, Silver finished and was replaced by Snowflake, a dark-skinned beauty dressed in a shimmery white number. She was almost finished with her routine when the stranger in the back corner finally approached. Blaze ignored him.

Then Erie stopped eating his ice cream and gave a low, curious growl; something he only did when meeting a new dragon. Blaze took another swallow of his drink, then finally dragged his eyes up. 

He'd been expecting the usual sort: men and women looking to make a name by kicking his ass, kids barely old enough to go out alone, young thugs who thought winning a couple of fights meant they could take on a Master, or resentful assholes who thought that because he was only twenty four that he was young and easy to beat.

The man before him was none of those things. He was tall—taller than Blaze, but who wasn't? He had dark brown hair that was dirty and in sore need of a trim, hazel eyes shot through with exhaustion, and lightly tanned skin. His clothes looked rumpled, like he'd been stuck wearing them too long.

Just behind him was a dragon that looked ill at ease to be in human form. His coloring was pale:  white blonde hair, skin that clearly got more moonlight than sunlight. Only his amber eyes stood out as a splash of color. He was slender, and a little shorter than his master, but despite his unease at being human, he was clearly ready to defend his master.

"If you want something, spell it out and stop lurking."

"I saw you fight earlier today," the man said, voice deep and even with no hint of a telling accent. Blaze cocked his head, indicating he could continue speaking. "You treat your dragon well."

Whatever Blaze had expected the man to say, it wasn't that. "Of course I do. If your goal is to piss me off, then you're succeeding."

The man shook his head. "Usually pit fighters treat their dragons like shit. You actually care, which is fucking awesome. If not for the fact you pit him, I might actually like you."

"I don't give a fuck if you like me or not." Erie growled a warning in reaction to Blaze's growing anger, and Blaze reached out a hand to comb soothingly through his hair. "If that's all you've got to say, then go somewhere else. I'm here to relax, not get into another fight. If you want to fight, sign up to pit."

Shaking his head again, the man abruptly sat down in the seat next to him. "I have no interest in fighting anyone. I mistakenly thought you felt the same way."

Blaze eyed him, hoping his dismay didn't show. If some random asshole could pick up on his reluctance, who else could? "I do as I'm told. Rust gives the orders, and I'm happy to obey them."

The man eyed him, clearly not believing a word.

Fuck. "Got a name?"

"Ken. You're Blaze, right? I think that's what they called you."

"Yeah, that's me," Blaze said. He took a long swallow, finishing off his drink. "What the fuck do you want?"

Smirking, Ken replied, "A fuck is exactly what I want."

Blaze's wariness kicked up another notch; while normally he might be tempted by the offer, he wasn't going to trust someone who already seemed to know too much. "Who the hell are you? And if you tell me 'Ken', I'll ruin that pretty face."

"Just an aimless owner."

The word made Blaze freeze with surprise. Owner. That was the term Amr had used a few times, before shaking his head and correcting himself to 'master'. Blaze had tried to ask about it a couple of times, but Amr had only said it was an outdated term.

Why was this asshole using it?

Deciding ignorance was best, Blaze asked, "What the fuck is an owner?"

Ken frowned at him, puzzled. "An owner. As in we own dragons."

"You mean a master," Blaze said, then ignored him in favor of thanking Cherri as she brought him a fresh drink. When she left, he turned back to Ken. "Look, I came here to relax, not play games. I don't know who or what you are, but you're starting to piss me off."

"I saw you fight and wanted to meet you. Heard a lot about you, thought it was bullshit. Now, I'd say the rumors don't give you enough credit. The term is owner, though, traditionally. Master is a pit term."

Blaze sneered. "Do I look the traditional type to you?" What the fuck was traditional?

"Yes," Ken said, so softly that Blaze almost didn't catch the word. Ice traveled through his veins; he was dismayed that someone he had never even heard of was seeing shit that Blaze didn't want seen. He didn't know what he was doing that was so traditional, but he was pretty fucking sure it would cost him Blaze if Rust found out.  Damn it, he always tried so hard to be careful.

"I'll tell you one last time," he said, spitting the words out in a low voice. "All I do is what Rust tells me–what a good master should—and ain't none of your fucking tradition involved. Get out of my face before I end you."

Ken stood up, briefly lifting his hands in surrender. But as he lowered them, he bent to whisper in Blaze's ear, "If you're not into tradition, then why have you and your dragon been fucking?"

Blaze reacted immediately, rising; he shoved and punched the bastard in the jaw, sending him to the floor. "Keep your fucking mouth shut," he hissed. "You have no fucking clue who you're messing with." Behind him, Erie growled and tensed. Blaze calmed him with a light touch, motioning with his free hand for the bouncers to remove Ken and his dragon.

"I know exactly what I'm doing," Ken said, giving him a look that actually made Blaze feel bad when the bouncers dragged Ken away. One guy tried to grab Ken's dragon and yelped when it nipped him.