Madness Unbalanced_Dragons of Zalara Page 4

  “Sure.” He untied the rope and tossed it onto the wet floor.

  She started the engine and pulled out of the cove.

  He reached into his bag and pulled out the ragon gas. Fates, he hated doing this, but he was sure she’d never go anywhere with him again. Once again, his anger got him into trouble again.

  “Chloe,” he said softly.

  She glanced over her shoulder. “Yes.”

  He sprayed the gas into her face.

  “What are you doing?” She slapped him and staggered back. “Stay away from me.”

  He snatched her glasses off her face, her eyes were so huge, that he hesitated in spraying her again.

  She screamed and beat on his chests with her fists. She reminded him of when his sister, Delias, died in his arms. She’d the same terrified look and his heart broke.

  He grabbed her wrist. “I’m sorry.” He sprayed her again.

  Her eyes fluttered back. She tilted her head back and her legs caved. He caught her and lay her on the back of the boat. He kissed the top of her warm forehead. “Forgive me.”

  He steered the boat down the coast until he came to where he left his cloaked space ship, the Leo. The Leo was a small fighter ship, but she had speed. He’d rather have taken the much bigger Excalibur, but Topaz had refused. How could he blame him? Ever since his sister died, he’d been reckless in flying small fighter ships. He’d already destroyed three. The captain obviously didn’t trust he’d bring back the Orion’s prized shuttle back in one piece. He beached the boat, then carefully lifted her out.

  Her breath warmed his heart. He held her close. What was he going to do when she woke up? She’d be panicked and scared out of her wits.

  He needed to do something nice for her. He doubted she would want to travel through space in a swimsuit. He’d heard that Ysam had brought extra clothes for his mate. Well, he could do the same thing.

  After he had Chloe secured, he hurried over to the resort. He knew where she resided there. Using dragon speed, he raced until he found her private residence. When using the speed, humans had a difficult time tracking him. Not all Zalarians possessed this ability, but he did.

  No one was in the hallway. He put his hand on the lock and turned until it busted. He used his shoulder to bump open the door. Her room was nothing but an oversized hotel room. She had a neatly made queen bed, a flat screen television, and a dresser. A kitchenette didn’t have a single dirty dish.

  The desk was a disaster. Books, a laptop, papers, and pens littered the small space. This was obviously where she spent her time and must be important for her. He put the laptop, books and papers into a nearby backpack. He opened her dresser and pulled out her undergarments and some shirts and shorts. He quickly stuffed them into a small suitcase he found in her closet.

  Someone knocked on the door. “Chloe, are you in there? Are you okay?”

  He grabbed the backpack and suitcase, then leaned against the other side of the door.

  “Chloe?”

  A man entered the room. Drake recognized him. He was her co-worker at Breezy’s.

  He turned around. “What the hell?”

  Drake punched him. He slammed onto his back and didn’t get up. Drake touched his neck and felt a pulse. He was alive but stunned. Drake raced out of the room as fast as he could, clutching the suitcase and backpack.

  “Stop him!” the man yelled.

  Damn, he hadn’t hit him hard enough. He burst out of the building. People were racing after him and a group of men who had guns blocked the way to his ship.

  Topaz wouldn’t be happy, but Drake didn’t have much choice. He immediately transformed into a dragon and snarled.

  “Dios Mío!” A man made the sign of the cross.

  One of them fired. Bullets stung him but didn’t hurt him. He released a stream of fire. The men jumped to the side. He flew into the air and toward his ship. He had to transform into a human.

  “There he is!”

  “Fire.”

  Loud bangs hurt his ears, then sharp pain slammed into his shoulder and lower back. Bullets flew past him. The hatch door opened. He stumbled into the ship, then pushed the button. Chloe’s backpack and suitcase fell at his feet. The hatch slowly shut. Blood dripped onto the floor. He clutched his burning shoulder and pulled away his reddened hand. The ship spun around him. He couldn’t pass out. He shook his head.

  Drawing on his dragon strength and ignoring the hot pain, he stumbled to the cockpit. He had no idea that human bullets would hurt so badly. Chloe was strapped to a chair, her head tilted to the side. It would be some time before she woke.

  He coughed and spit up blood. He wiped his palm over his mouth and smeared crimson onto his hand.

  He wiped his palm on his pants, then forced himself to focus on the panel. He plotted a course for Zalara and the ship lifted off the ground. He steered it out of Earth’s atmosphere, but his vision kept skipping back and forth to tunnel vision. He hacked again and again and blood dripped out of his mouth. Fates, he was about to pass out.

  He contacted Topaz.

  “Topaz here.”

  He held his shoulder. “Captain.” His voice was rattled. “I’ve been…shot.”

  “What happened? Do you have your mate?”

  “I was forced to transform–”

  “You know that’s a violation of my orders.”

  “Yes,” he gasped. “Captain, I’m about to pass out.”

  “Where are you?”

  “I’m sending you coordinates now.” But the console went fuzzy. He set a course for Zalara then everything turned blurry. His arm dropped to his side, and he passed out.

  5

  Chloe slowly came around and lifted her head. She winced. Pain throbbed between her temples. She shook her head, trying to clear the fog in her mind. What was happening? Oh, God. It happened again. She pulled on her wrists and like last time, she couldn’t move.

  The nightmare of what happened with Burrows slammed into her chest. She gasped to breathe, but air refused to fill her starved lungs.

  Come on, wake up.

  She shook her head hard. This time, her mind cleared. Holy Mother of God, she was having a nervous break-down.

  She stared at large black screen which had stars swooshing around. Was that a computer? Different colored buttons blinked. Cold flushed over her body and she shivered. She glanced down, afraid she was naked again, but she still had her one-piece on and her white cover-up.

  In the corner of the room, her backpack and suitcase were slumped over on each other.

  A man was slouched over a chair that faced the screen and blood drizzled down the metal onto the floor. She knew him. “Drake?”

  He didn’t budge. She struggled to move, but she could barely shift. Her chest tightened. She couldn’t take another humiliation. She leaned her head back.

  Think.

  First, things, first. She had to get free, but obviously she wasn’t strong enough to break her binds.

  “Drake, Drake!” she yelled. “Wake up!”

  He slowly stirred. “Chloe?” His voice was low and groggy.

  She was done being patient. “Release me, you bastard.”

  He rubbed the crease between his brow. “I can’t. You’ll try and escape, which is pointless.”

  “Why?” she asked slowly.

  He twirled around in his chair. She gasped. Blood trickled down his shoulder and pooled on his thighs. His face was ashen and pinched.

  “What happened to you?”

  He leaned his head. “I got shot, which was more painful than I thought possible.”

  “Who shot you?”

  “If it makes you feel any better, the security guards at your resort.”

  She tilted her chin up. “You didn’t answer my question. Where am I?”

  He lifted an eyebrow. “You don’t know.”

  She gritted her teeth. “If I did, I wouldn’t be answering.”

  “Outer space. We’re on a course for Zalara.”


  Her heart skipped a beat and her eyes widened. “You mean that’s really outer space?”

  He grinned. “Yes. It is.” He cleared his throat. “How are you feeling? Sometimes the ragon gas makes humanoids woozy.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Oh, so now you’re concerned?”

  “You’re my mate. Of course, I’m concerned.” His husky voice softened, but he wasn’t fooling her. He’d lured her in once only to betray her.

  “I’m your what?”

  “Mate.”

  “Like hell I am.” She struggled to pull on her wrists, but the steel bands were tighter than handcuffs. “Then release me. If we’re in outer space, it’s not like I’m going anywhere. Besides I’m cold.” She shivered as if she were freezing. Which wasn’t really a lie, but she’d say anything to get out of her bonds. He was weak. Maybe she could turn this ship around and return to Earth.

  “I could give you a blanket.”

  “Really? You’re going to parade me around in a one piece on your planet. You might as well have me walk around naked.” Her eyes and cheeks turned hot. She lowered her head and mumbled. “You’re no better than Burrows.”

  He frowned. “What did you say?”

  “Nothing.” Heat pulsed through her body at remembering that horrible night.

  He studied her. She knew he didn’t believe her, but she refused to tell her kidnapper.

  Time to try another tactic. “You’re hurt. I can help you. If you let me out of this chair.”

  “I’m probably making a mistake…” He pushed a button on the control panel and click––her manacles unlocked.

  She rubbed her wrists that were strangely not bruised. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” He sat straighter. “Something’s wrong.” He clenched his fist. “The coordinates are all wrong.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He slammed his fist down hard on the metal arm rest and it cracked.

  She jumped, her heart nearly flying out of her chest.

  “Fates, we’re not going to Zalara!” His snarling voice sent her heart beating a mile a minute.

  She cleared her throat. “So, where are we going?”

  He pushed buttons while his other hand gripped his shoulder. “I don’t know. I haven’t been in this part of the galaxy.” He glared at her. “I must have hit a wrong button after being shot. Damn it!” His angry eyes sent chills down her spine.

  “Calm down. Can’t you reset the course?”

  “Yes, but it will take time. Time, we don’t have.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m about to pass out.” His voice was fading.

  She raced over to him. “No, don’t pass out.” She put her hands on his flushed cheeks. “I don’t know how to fly this damn thing.”

  “You’re…going…to have…to try.”

  She licked her lips. Maybe there was one way. She’d never done this before. Who was she kidding, she’d never wanted to. Determined, she called upon her scrying. At first nothing happened.

  She took a deep breath and tried again. Small tingles rippled through her finger tips, but then disappeared.

  “Come on,” she said. “Just do it.”

  Not knowing what else to do, she stared into Drake’s droopy eyes as if trying to stare into his soul. More tingles circled her finger tips, then painstakingly slow, they moved up her arms. A snail would have inched faster.

  Her body shook and her head tilted back. In a split second, she slipped into Drake’s consciousness. Waves and waves of hot, burning agony slammed into her and she gasped for breath. She tried to see passed his anguish and only got a glimpse of a code. She’d no idea whether it was coordinates to Earth or Zalara. She pushed to see which one, but his torment blocked out her attempt.

  Suddenly, she was back in her own sweating body, kneeling on the floor and panting. Drake’s head was tilted back on the chair. She put her hand on his chest, hoping for a heartbeat. She got one, but it was faint.

  No matter what Drake had done, she couldn’t leave him like this.

  But first she had to set a course that would hopefully take her back to Earth. She stared at the console, unsure what to do. Number keys were on the panel and lucky they were similar to Earth. She closed her eyes and thought of the code.

  She opened her eyes and pressed the numbers. A yellow light blinked off and on. Hoping she wasn’t making a terrible mistake, she pushed it. The ship slowed and moved in another direction, but she had no idea which planet they were headed for.

  Drake slowly sagged in his chair. He couldn’t die. If they were going to his planet, his people wouldn’t be pleased. What if they tortured her? Every evil alien movie popped into her head. She shook from head to toe. The air got thinner. She hyperventilated to the point where she was seeing black dots.

  Breathe, just breathe.

  Drake rolled out of the chair and landed on the floor.

  She had to get a hold of herself. There had to be medical supplies on this space ship. Ignoring her trembling legs, she got up off the floor. She opened all the cabinets on the bridge, but only found equipment that reminded her of cell phones, tape recorders, or iPads. Nothing that was useful to stop Drake’s wounds.

  She realized there was no door. Maybe it was invisible or hidden. She slid her hands over a smooth wall. It was opposite where Drake was sitting and she thought this was the logical spot for a door.

  She inched her hand around, hoping to trigger an opening. Part of the wall glided open and revealed a corridor with more smooth walls. She glanced over at Drake who was still motionless. She wasn’t sure she should move, but when he moaned, the decision was made for her.

  She entered the corridor and the door behind her stayed open. She sighed with relief. She pressed her hands on the right smooth wall and inched along. Another door opened and she smiled. Two medical boards that reminded her of flat screen televisions hung on the wall above each bed. They had buttons and gadgets that measured heartbeat, respiration, oxygen, body temperature, and blood levels. She hurried over to a cabinet and ripped it open. Stacks of gauze, bandages, bottles of antiseptic, fluffy cotton balls, and tape, were all in neat rows. Below the cabinet were drawers which had different types of surgical scissors, scalpels, surgical probes, forceps, and sutures.

  She ran her shaking hand through her hair. She’d no medical training, but if she didn’t do something, Drake could bleed to death or even die. Kidnapper or not, she didn’t want to be on a ship, in space, with a dead guy.

  “I can do this. I can do this. I can do this.” Each time she said the words, her voice got stronger.

  Taking a deep breath, she grabbed a rolling chair and put gauze, bandages, a pair of rubber gloves, and antiseptic on the seat. She rolled it over to Drake. He was too heavy for her to move, so she’d have to patch him up here. She snagged blankets, scissors, scalpels, probes, forceps, and sutures.

  She grabbed two cloths and a filled up a bowl with hot water. Drake was slumped close to the floor, so it didn’t take much to move him on her spread-out blanket.

  He groaned.

  She yanked back her hands. “I’m sorry. Drake, can you hear me?”

  But all she got was a low moan.

  His shirt was riddled with red splotches and she couldn’t figure out how he’d survived. Maybe he was like Mr. Spock on Star Trek, and his organs were all in a different places.

  She picked up a pair of scissors and cut his shirt in two. She’d never seen bullet holes before, and these were gruesome. Red splatters of surrounded the dark black holes. The holes looked as if someone had taken a drill to Drake’s flesh. Blood had dried on his skin, but the one on his shoulder was leaking. Her stomach churned around and around. She bit her lip to keep from losing all her tortilla chips.

  She had to patch him up whether she liked it or not. Hopefully, they could get Drake to a better medical care, but for right now, she was the only bet in town. And she would need him to get them to help.

  She dipped the
cloth into the hot water to wipe the blood off his broad back. Her shaking hand caressed his thick muscles. When she was teaching him how to paddle board, she’d admired his physique, but touching him in such an intimate way was beyond her wildest dreams. Men like him had never noticed her. They were always after her friends or colleagues. She was always the droopy wall flower.

  She placed the cloth into the water and the water immediately turned dark red. She wrung out the cloth, then wiped his back down again until the blood had all been soaked up. She patted his skin dry with the other cloth.

  Next, she dabbed the clean cloth with antiseptic and dabbed the wounds.

  Drake hissed loudly.

  “Drake, are you awake? Do you want me to do this? Is there something else I should do?”

  But he didn’t answer. His eyes were shut tight.

  “God, here goes nothing,” she murmured as she put on the rubber gloves.

  She inspected his hip first and forced herself to put her fingers on either side of the wound. She stretched the skin so she could look inside. Surprisingly, the bullet hadn’t gone that deep. All she had to do was to pull it out like she’d seen on all those medical shows. Sure, so easy for Patrick Dempsey on Grey’s Anatomy. That had been a television show––this was real life.

  And she wasn’t a doctor.

  Sweat dribbled down her temples. She picked up the forceps to try to remove the bullet with her shaking hand, but the wound was too small. Reluctantly, she picked up the scalpel, but her hand was so damp with perspiration that she had to wipe it on her suit.

  “You can do this,” she whispered to herself.

  Reluctantly, she clasped the scalpel and slowly cut into his flesh. It was like slicing into a piece of steak. She hated this. Being a surgeon was definitely not up her alley. Unfortunately, she couldn’t stop shaking and the incision was a little jagged. So far, Drake hadn’t flinched or groan or growled. He definitely had a temper and was likely to smack her if she hurt him.

  This time, the forceps cooperated and she was able to pull out the bullet. Blood gushed out of the hole. Her stomach swished uneasily, and she bit her lip to keep from losing her cookies.