Page 21 of The Dragon King’s Claw (The Dragons of Serai #17)

I didn't get to sleep until after sunrise and when I did, my dreams were haunted by images of mechanical devices, falling sand, a little boy, and a Dragon King.

Despite those ghosts in my mind, I slept well.

Long. It was dark when I opened my eyes again.

I lay in my bed, staring up at the ceiling, replaying the events of the day before on that blank canvas. The bodies. The King. The game.

I was glad it was over.

Even the King had let me go after all that drama.

It's not as if he could follow me home. And I deserved to go home after what I'd done.

The Chief said so when he caught me, just as I was leaving the night before.

He even insisted that I take a few days off.

I didn't protest. I knew I'd be coming down from my Dragon-blood high soon, and then I'd be tired.

Bone weary. And in need of something less exotic.

With a groan, I rolled out of bed, my feet landing on the hardwood, and stood up.

The bathroom was my first stop, and then the kitchen.

My apartment was modest but served my needs, and it was in a nice neighborhood that was mostly quiet.

I glanced out the window, then at the clock on the kitchen wall.

Eight. If I hadn't found that boy, he'd be dying right at that moment.

If I'd been a superstitious man, that would have struck me as strange. But it was just a coincidence.

I let out a long sigh of relief. No, I hadn't caught Hallaxgral, and I didn't like that I wasn't the one processing the scene with that device.

But as much as I valued my job over everything else, I wasn't one of those men who would work himself to death.

When I needed a break, I took it. Because I couldn't help people if I wasn't at my best.

So, I didn't lament the day I'd spent sleeping.

My body obviously needed the rest. I did miss the power of the King's blood, but again, I was prepared for the boost to simmer down.

It wasn't gone. I could still feel him inside me.

Instinctively, I knew I wouldn't have to consume blood for weeks if not months.

But I craved it. I needed something to take away the King's taste.

Tor'rien. I had called him Tor'rien in a moment of weakness.

“Oh, well. It's over now,” I muttered.

The hunt for Hallaxgral would continue, and the King might wish to be included, but I could avoid him now.

I had escaped. That should have made me smile, but all I did was grimace.

Because that bastard was still inside me!

I needed a blood bandage. Another taste in my mouth.

The feel of a different man in my veins. And in other places.

That decided, I showered and got dressed in a hunting outfit. No, I wasn't going into the woods to kill an animal. I was going on a man-hunt, and I'd chosen my outfit to draw my prey to me instead of the other way around. So, I suppose “hunting” may have been the wrong word.

“Who the fuck cares?” I growled as I locked my front door.

That's how bad it was. I wasn't an anxious man or one prone to growling. I was well-mannered and cool-headed, priding myself on rational thinking and behavior. But the King had messed with that. Him and his beautiful face. And his hot body. And his delicious blood.

“Fuck!” I hissed under my breath.

My head down, I navigated the streets of Kochan. To the other pedestrians, I probably appeared insane, muttering to myself as I did. I didn't care. Just a little further and then I'd be there. A little more. Ah, here we are.

My favorite hunting grounds. Newfangled. The name glittered blood-red on the sign that hung above the red door. Yeah, they wanted you to know what kind of place you were walking into before you did that walking. Otherwise, terrible mistakes could be made.

The Ricarri at the door nodded to me and opened the way. I nodded back but didn't lift my head until I was in the dark sanctuary. Only then did my shoulders relax and my stare rise. I scanned the room, but not to find evidence. It was only a cursory look. I hadn’t arrived at my destination yet.

Newfangled featured three areas—each with a floor to themselves. The first floor was for the ladies. Only ladies. The second floor was mixed. So, yes, I headed to the top where only men were allowed.

Once I was in the main room, I did another scan, this time more thoroughly.

I continued to search as I strode across the shadowy space, navigating around the central, circular bar and to a table up against the wall.

A booth. The curved bench had a high back to separate it from the booths on either side.

It offered a little privacy in the public place. And privacy was important there.

I sat down, removed my light jacket, and unbuttoned my silk shirt so that it exposed my chest. The table would have blocked my groin if I sat at the back, so instead, I sat sideways on one end.

My left leg draped out of the booth, my left arm hung over the cushion, and my right arm lay on my right thigh.

It was a practiced pose, one that showcased my attributes.

And it instantly drew the attention of several attractive options.

Some of the Eljaffna there preferred a more aggressive approach.

That in itself was a type of declaration.

I drew my suitors to me so that they'd know I was the receiver in all ways.

Outside of places like this, it was more difficult to find sustenance.

You had to court people and only after gaining their trust could you ask for blood.

But places like Newfangled did away with that nonsense.

Any non-Eljaffna who walked into Newfangled was after the thrill only we could give.

The bliss of our bite. They wanted it, and they didn't care about trust or relationships.

Sure, some of them came to form relationships with us, but most just wanted to feel our teeth in their skin and get off.

Maybe a quick fuck after the initial pleasure. Clean. Simple. No attachments.

The first contestant stepped up to my table.

He was a Tyasmoran with dark skin, hair, and eyes. Oh, and dark wings too. Those wings rustled, betraying his anticipation as he looked me over.

“I'm Lenfre,” he said.

“Tekhan.”

He grinned. “May I join you?”

I waved to the other side of the booth. Lenfre slid onto the leather seat and moved toward the center. I drew myself in and eased closer to him, conveying to the rest of the room that I was unavailable. It didn't mean that I had decided on this man, but I was conducting an interview.

Bringing my right knee up on the bench, I kept Lenfre at a distance to let him know this as well. “What are you after tonight?”

“Just want to give a little and get a little.” He shrugged. “Nothing serious. Do you like Tyasmoran blood?”

“I do. What would you like for your donation?”

This was standard talk in Newfangled. We get right to the point. Because if he wanted more than I was willing to give, then I'd excuse him and welcome the next man. He'd appreciate it too, I'm sure. It would free him to find what he wanted.

Lenfre leaned in, setting his palm on my knee. “I want to fuck your mouth.”

Yup, that was too much for me.

I took his wrist and moved it back, setting it on his knee. “It was nice to meet you. Have a good evening. I hope you find someone to give you what you're after.”

Lenfre chuckled, but didn't protest. It wasn't a big deal. We just didn't mesh. He was looking for someone who wanted to be face-fucked, and I wanted to ride a cock. No match. So, he got up.

I wasn't alone for long. The next man was a X'anti.

Even without wings, he was bigger than Lenfre.

And the bulge in his pants both interested and repelled me.

It might be too much for me to handle. But maybe that was exactly what I needed—a good stretching that would leave me aching and wipe out all thoughts of the King.

Licking my lips, I leaned in to begin the questioning. But as I did, I caught movement out of the corner of my eye.

Someone was garnering a lot of attention.

I paused and turned to see what the commotion was about.

Now, I don't mean that people shouted or pointed.

They murmured softly. Clothing rustled. Stares shifted.

It was as if the entire room sighed. And that meant the new man was something special.

So, I looked. My brow rose in response to what I saw.

Then I watched, utterly fascinated, as the man stood there, looking around.

Searching. I cocked my head—an automatic reaction usually reserved for moments of confusion or curiosity.

But I wasn't confused or curious. I was astonished.

Then, just as eager Eljaffna surrounded him, the man's stare shifted toward me.

“Is that the King?” the X'anti whispered.

“Yes.” I turned to give the room—and the King—my back. Maybe he hadn't noticed me. “You can go, if you want.”

“No, I'm good. I've heard he's a top, and he doesn't bite.” He grinned at me. “I'm just a little surprised to see him here. Didn't take him for a blood donor.”

“One bite is all it takes to make an addict,” I muttered.

“What's that?”

“Oh, nothing. So, what's your pleasure tonight?”

He looked down at my chest. Then further. “I want to fuck you while you bite me.”

“What if I ride you?”

His grin widened. “I'd be delighted.”

“Are you all right with going somewhere more private?”

“Absolutely, beautiful. Where do you wanna go?”

“He's not going anywhere,” a rich, furious voice came from behind me.

I closed my eyes in annoyance. All right, there was a tiny thrill that ran down my spine as well. But that only annoyed me even more.

“Your Majesty!” The X'anti shot to his feet. “Have I . . . uh, is he . . . are you two . . . uh, I'll just be going.” The enormous horned man ran away.