Page 13 of The Dragon King’s Claw (The Dragons of Serai #17)

Diving low, I angled around the corner and hit my target.

The Brujai grunted. The fire went out. Something clattered.

Skittered across stone. I punched the man in the gut.

He backhanded me. Breath gone, I hit the alley wall.

Before I could straighten, a fist crunched into my face.

I slid down the wall like a doll to stare forward in a daze.

At a metal tube. It was just lying there.

A lot like me. I wanted to grab it, but I couldn't move.

A roar came. The Brujai snatched the tube from the ground and ran. The King could have caught him. When he crouched before me, I tried to tell him to go after the murderer, but I couldn't catch my breath enough to speak. The murderer had hit me right in the solar plexus.

I pushed at King Tor'rien. His face swam in my vision.

His eyes so blue. So beautiful. Full of fear.

Why? I looked down. Oh. So, the murderer had his claws extended when he shoved me.

He left five wounds in my chest. That explained the pain.

I took a full breath at last and those wounds bled faster.

“Tek!” The Dragon King's words registered. “I've got you. You're going to be all right.” He put his hand on my chest.

I pushed him away and stood up, replacing his hand with mine. “Of course, I'll be all right. I just need to find a donor. If you'll excuse me, Your Majesty. I can no longer entertain you.”

I stumbled away.

Strong arms wrapped around me, one going behind my knees to lift me off my feet.

I gaped at the King, but as he walked down the alley with me, I recovered my reasoning. “Put me down!”

“No,” he said. “You need blood. I will provide it.”

“You? No. Someone else. Not you.”

“I will provide what you need.” The King narrowed his eyes at me.

“Oh, for fuck's sake,” I muttered. “At least let me walk.” I winced when we made it to the sidewalk.

The King alone warranted a lot of attention, but the King carrying a bleeding Eljaffna man? No one could ignore that. The plus was that it made it easier to search the crowded streets for a fleeing Brujai. In five seconds, I determined he was gone. Then I cursed.

“You need blood!” the King snarled. “You will just have to get over your distaste for me and accept mine.”

“I'm not . . . that's not why I cursed.” I grimaced and waved at the people. “You should have gone after the murderer. He was right there. Now, we've lost him. Him and that weapon.”

The King scowled at me. “I wasn't about to leave you bleeding in an alley to chase down a criminal.”

“I'll be fine.”

“Yes, you will!” He jerked his chin upward at someone.

I looked up to see that we had reached the royal carriage. The motion was directed at Sir Vasren, who opened the door for us. The King deposited me on the back bench. Then he climbed in, sat beside me, and yanked open his shirt.

I stared at his neck like a child standing outside a sweet shop—utterly enchanted.

Salivating. I knew that one taste of this man might make me an addict.

Worse, it would bind us in ways the King wasn't aware of.

That was yet another reason I couldn't risk a relationship with the King.

If he discovered the secret my people had been hiding for generations, life would change for the Eljaffna.

We might even die out. Immortal or not, we needed blood to live.

No. I couldn't do this. I turned away from him. It wasn't just me who I was risking. An entire race—

The King grabbed my shirt and yanked me against him. I yipped in surprise. His broad hand went to the back of my head and pressed my face against his neck. He held me there so tightly that my lips flattened and I felt his pulse through them. Groaning, I opened my mouth and bit down.

Explosions. Shivers. Burning hot desire.

My body instantly thrummed with power and my tongue came alive with the primal, vibrant taste of the Dragon King.

Savory and sweet. As addictive as I expected.

I craved more even as I drank. The first swallow sent me into a place I had only scraped at before—a deep, dark hole of depravity and animal need.

I didn't care about anything but my next sip.

No, that's a lie. I also wanted fuck him.

While drinking. I wanted it more than I'd wanted anything before.

Growling, I straddled the King's lap and latched onto his shoulders.

I felt him groan, but it barely registered.

I was too busy lapping up liquid magic. Sparkling life.

Tingling pleasure. There was so much to taste and feel.

My cock was full. I ground it against him.

The only thing that would make this better was sex.

But I'd have to stop sucking at him to get my pants off.

And I was never going to stop. Couldn't. It was too good.

Too much.

Too much!

And yet I couldn't pull away. The King's grip on my waist went slack. I knew I had to stop. I was taking too much blood. But I couldn't stop swallowing. Wouldn't.

Then I smelled it.

Something pungent. Irritating. It wrinkled my nose. Rotten eggs. Just the hint of it melded with that other odor. The sharp one. I had only smelled that combination once.

I jerked back, gasping. Teeth bared and lips bloody, I must have looked like a monster. But the King smirked at me. That victorious expression combined with the odor rising from my chest and snapped me out of my bloodlust.

“Rotten,” I whispered.

His smirk vanished. “What?”

I shoved back and landed on the floor of the carriage with a thud.

The King reached for me, but I had taken too much blood and easily evaded him.

This didn't concern me. Dragons are the fastest healers on Serai.

He'd be fine. No, there was something more important than the Dragon King.

Even more important than the touch of shame I felt at giving into my need for blood and pairing it with lust.

That smell! That's what broke my bloodlust. I grabbed my shirt and lifted it to my nose. There! Now that I had noticed it, it was sharper. Very distinctive.

“Stop the carriage!” I shouted.

“Tek.”

“Stop calling me that.” I flung the carriage door open and called once more to the driver. “I said, stop! Stop, this instant!”

The carriage came to a stop, and I burst out.

The King cursed and bolted after me, but stumbled as he left the carriage. I didn't stop to help him. I needed to pursue this lead immediately. And frankly, I was done with making conciliations for my royal escort.

Licking my lips, I darted around the pedestrians on the sidewalk.

Nice, law-abiding citizens pulled out of my path with cries of dismay.

I didn't care if I frightened them or why.

Maybe it was the sight of an Eljaffna coming down from a feeding, cleaning his lips and fangs.

Or maybe it was the look in my eyes. Perhaps it was the fact that I was running down a city sidewalk like a madman.

It didn't matter. I ran for them. For their safety.

They'd never thank me, but that didn't matter either.

All that mattered was that fucking stench.

Noises came from behind me. The King throwing a fit. Fuck him. He was getting my way. My destination was only a block ahead. I kept running.

Horses neighed. The clatter of wheels came. I kept running.

A shout. Terrible words flung after me. I kept running.

There. I darted around a corner and finally paused.

The Leather District.

I breathed in deeply. The odor came from me alone.

Most tanners would keep their supplies in a back room so as not to offend their customers.

The ammonia and hydrogen sulfide I smelled weren't tanning supplies.

Merely the byproducts of tanning—gases released during the process.

The toxic, unavoidable result of turning an animal's skin into leather.

To either side of me were leather shops.

They stretched a good two blocks. But I wouldn't have to search all of them. Just the ones owned by Brujai.

“Pardon me.” I stopped a Brujai man who was strolling down the sidewalk toward me.

He glanced at me, then again, focusing on my badge. “Yes, Claw-Sir?”

“Do you know which of these leather shops are owned by Brujai?”

“Damn you, Tekhan!” someone roared behind me.

Yes, someone. I didn't recognize the King's voice at first. It was so saturated with rage. But I saw the recognition and horror on the Brujai's face.

“No, don't—” I reached for him.

He ran.

“—run,” I finished and then swung toward the Dragon King with a snarl.

King Tor'rien, who'd been snarling himself, stopped short when he saw my face. He lost some of his bluster, pausing just a foot away from me. To his left was the royal carriage.

“Gods damn it!” I growled and pointed at the carriage driver. “Turn around now! I need you gone. Do you fucking hear me? And you!” I pointed at the King. “Get in there and go away! You are interfering with an active investigation.”

The King gaped at me. Then his expression went feral.

So far, King Tor'rien had tolerated, even encouraged my irreverence. But I had pushed him too far. In his weakened state, he didn't have the strength to hold back his fury. At least, this was the conclusion I came to as he launched himself at me.

The Dragon King grabbed my shirtfront and hauled me to him as he bent his head to growl, “You will not speak to me like that ever again, Claw Shinkai.”

I jerked out of his grip, startling him. “What happened to your appreciation of my candor?”

“I said it was acceptable as long as you were also respectful. You are not being respectful.”

I waved his anger away. “I have evidence that needs to be acted on immediately.”

The King blinked. “Evidence? What evidence?”

“Smell me.”

His face went slack. “Pardon?”

“I said, smell me!” I pulled out my shirt, lifting the portion shredded by the Brujai's claws.