Oh, My Dragon (I Like Big Dragons 3)
Page 18
I didn’t bother answering him as I finished my scan of Wink’s body.
The only damage I could find was to her face, and that was only superficial.
I didn’t leave her where she was.
Instead, I picked her up, turned on my heel and moved down the stairs.
Keifer wisely moved out of my way, but I still flayed him alive with my glare as I walked past.
“Ian,” Keifer said softly. “I’m sorry.”
Sorry wasn’t good enough.
I didn’t bother to reply, walking past everyone that stood watching me without a word, straight out the door.
For once in his life, Mace was where I needed him to be—right outside the door.
Guess I’d be leaving my bike here in a safe place instead of on the side of the road when Mace finally deigned to grace me with his presence.
“Thank you, Mace,” I said gruffly, walking up to him and mounting his back with practiced ease.
Mace took off without another word, and I used my legs to hold myself on Mace’s back as we flew back to my property.
He landed in the backyard just as Wink was rousing.
She moaned and tried to turn, which only brought her deeper into my arms.
She snuggled deep and sighed, her eyes fluttering open slightly before they slammed back closed.
“The sun,” she whined. “It burns!”
I laughed and slid off of Mace’s back, going up to my door and pressing my thumb against the scanner.
It read my fingerprint and immediately opened.
“My face hurts,” she said, twisting slightly.
Her eyes opened once we were in the darkness of the kitchen, and she stared at me in confusion.
“You have blood all over you,” she whispered, pain filling her voice.
“You do, too,” I said, taking her to the kitchen counter and dropping her on her bottom next to the sink.
“What happened?” her voice cracked, as well as her jaw, as she asked that.
I winced, turning to face her fully.
“I forgot to mention something this morning,” I said.
Her brows rose.
“Okay,” she drawled. “How about you tell me as I clean your face.”
Her eyes studied my face, and I pushed her hand away before she could grab the washcloth.
“No,” I said. “You’ll let me do you first. Listen as I clean.”
She rolled her eyes.
“I bet that’s the first time you’ve ever said that,” she said cheekily.
I started to clean her face as I spoke.
“I told you about the powers we acquire from our dragons. What I forgot to mention was that when you and I bonded, you also acquired the ability to feel what I feel. Whether that be happiness, excitement, anger. Or pain.”
She blinked.
“Pain?” she asked.
I nodded.
“These tattoos,” I dragged my finger across her neck. “They do more than just show everyone that you belong to me.”
“What else do they do?” she asked warily, her eyes scanning my face.
I threw the washcloth into the sink, which she promptly picked up and turned back to me. This time she cleaned me up.
“When I feel pain, you feel pain. Such as when Keifer slammed his fist into my mouth about ten minutes ago, it not only affected me, but you as well,” I informed her.
“What about when I have my period?” she asked. “Or when I have a baby. Will you feel that pain, too?”
I was shaking my head before she finished, trying to will my heart to slow upon hearing ‘when I have a baby’, and said, “No. Anything that your own body does to you, will stay with you. Such as if I acquired cancer and died, you would feel none of that pain that was directly involved with it. I would be very aware that you were going through childbirth or cramps, but I wouldn’t necessarily have to feel everything.”
She shivered.
“Cancer sucks.”
I nodded.
“It does,” I agreed.
“My dad died of cancer,” she said.
I knew, but I didn’t want to let on that I did.
I’d had her thoroughly investigated before I’d allowed her to come into my home. In fact, I’d had her investigated so deeply that I knew that she sucked at science, but excelled greatly at art, and music in high school and had actually taken up photography while still in school.
She was also dyslexic, something I’d found out when I had Nikolai hack into her school records.
That was something I was fairly sure she wouldn’t want me to know, at least not yet.
Likely not anytime soon, either.
“I’m sorry. So did my parents,” I said softly.
Her eyes widened.
“Both of them?” she gasped.
I nodded.
“How is that even possible?” she questioned.
I shook my head.
“Not really sure, to be honest,” I explained. “My mom got ovarian cancer. She seemed to be beating it, but then my dad was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer about eight months after we found out about my mom,” I looked at the wall behind Wink’s head as I said the next part. “My dad’s cancer was advanced. There was nothing the doctors could do when they found out. He died about five months after he was diagnosed, and the last three of them, he was bedridden.”