Dragon Glass

Chapter 1

Sunsets.

The word alone brought to mind images of couples riding toward the horizon, kissing, beginning their happily ever after. Sunsets provided endless inspiration for painters, poets, and writers of cheesy greeting cards. Three things Meri was not.

Mericela Christou preferred sunrises. They marked the beginning of a new day, a new beginning, a new adventure. Okay, maybe the last one wasn’t exactly in her cards but a girl could hope.

Something small with far too many legs skittered across Meri’s foot. She brushed the tiny crab away and pulled her knees to her chest. She’d done it again, woken in the sand with no idea how she’d gotten there. Meri could barely manage the walk from her cottage to the shore in the daylight…how she’d done it without breaking her neck while sleeping was a mystery.

Despite her wet clothes, she turned her face toward the morning sky and soaked it in. The sun crested in a brilliant display of oranges and golds, chasing away both the darkness and the nightmares.

Sunrises over the Aegean Sea were the stuff of myths and legends. Ribbons of color so bright only the gods and goddesses of old could have painted them. Not that she had much to compare them to, the only real sunrises Meri had witnessed were on Psara, a tiny island off the coast of Greece, and Hankerton, a tiny island of boredom in the middle of Texas.

Meri stood and brushed the cold wet sand from her skirt. She had an hour before her father’s nurse would send for her. An hour of peace before reality landed squarely on her shoulders. Dying father, money problems, upkeep on the ancient house, a flock of moody artists—oh yeah, and her illness, which the doctors said would kill her before her thirtieth birthday.

Meri locked her worries in a little box in the back of her mind and walked along the shoreline searching for sea glass. Bits and pieces of broken glass tumbled in the ocean for decades until they emerged smooth, frosted, and utterly perfect.

It had stormed the previous night. She remembered falling asleep, watching the rain pelt the window. With any luck, the nasty weather had stirred the sea and left behind treasures in the sand. Treasures she’d turn into jewelry her sister would sell to a shopkeeper in Argos.

A large piece of cobalt blue glass caught her eye. She plucked it from the edge of the water and slid it into her pocket. It would make a lovely pendant. Less than a foot away, she found a green piece as large as the first. Still another glimmer caught her eyes a couple meters away. On a normal day she counted herself lucky if she found two or three small pieces.

Meri’s hands flew to her mouth as she turned in a slow circle. Shards of sea glass, as numerous as stars in the night sky, dotted the beach. She gathered the treasure until her pockets bulged.

Meri knew every nook and cranny of this stretch of coast. She’d walked it every morning since she was ten years old, when her adopted parents sold everything they owned and relocated the family to the remote island.

An unfamiliar shape, too far to make out the details but close enough to know it didn’t belong, caught her attention. She walked up the shore, hoping another dolphin hadn’t beached itself. A glimmer of light reflecting off metal made her heart, and feet, move faster.

She stared, unable to form a thought until her brain caught up with her eyes. A man lay face down in the shallow water.

“Oh my God.” She staggered back. Feet tangling in her skirt, she landed on her bottom in the wet sand.

Meri came to her hands and knees and inched closer. The man hadn’t moved, save the gentle rocking of the water beneath him.

“Sir?” She shoved his shoulder, not really expecting him to respond, but then again, her brain had malfunctioned the moment she saw him.

Meri grabbed his arm and rolled him over. Dark hair, tanned skin, and a face that would make the gods themselves envious. His jaw was clenched, as though he continued the fight to keep water from his lungs into the afterlife.

Sand clung to his forehead. Meri resisted the urge to brush it away. He was by far the most beautiful man she’d ever seen, dead or alive.

She turned and studied the patterns in the sand. No telltale footprints marking his final moments, but it had stormed the previous evening. Her gaze drifted over the water toward the horizon. No ship, no wreckage, no hint of how he’d ended up on her beach.

Hoping to find identification, Meri opened his blazer. Her heart slammed into her throat.

Stains. Bloodstains covered his shirt. It looked as if something had bitten or clawed through his side.

Shark? Not likely in these parts, but something had ripped into him. She leaned closer to slip her hand into his jacket, putting her face too close to a dead man for her liking—no matter how handsome the corpse.

His pockets were empty. She sat back and debated checking his jeans, but the idea of rummaging around in a dead man’s pants didn’t appeal to her. She tilted her head and lifted the edge of his jacket. No rips or tears. How odd.

“Let’s get you to dry land.” Not wanting to trip and fall on him, Meri stood and tied the hem of her skirt into a knot above her knees. She took up position near his head and slid her hands under his shoulders.

For some unholy reason, she could not tear her eyes away from his lips. His full, kissable, and very dead lips. “What the hell is wrong with me?”

The man weighed more than she’d anticipated. Sure, he was tall and his shoulders were twice as wide as hers, and he was as waterlogged as a dish sponge, but she could barely move him. After several failed attempts, Meri managed to get the guy out of the water.

The adrenaline rush from finding a body on her beach faded. She could only imagine how he’d suffered. The idea of a wife and family waiting for him to come home tightened her throat.

“Who are you?” She brushed the sand from his face, but jerked her hand back and scrambled away from him.

The man’s skin was warm. She’d found him face down. His lips were blue. He definitely wasn’t breathing, so how was he still warm? More troubling was the jolt of energy she’d felt when she touched him. A cool shot of something akin to pleasure had blasted through her.

“Mericela? Where are you?” Her sister’s voice cut through the thousands of questions pinging around in her head.

“Help! Get help!” Meri turned and scanned the shoreline.

“What is it now…?” Darya swallowed her words and ran to her side. Her eyes wide and voice shaking, she whispered, “Is he dead?”

“Yes. I don’t know. Maybe?” Meri stuttered, unsure how to answer.

“It’s a simple question.” Her sister had spoken to her in the same what-are-you-stupid? tone many times, but today, Meri wanted to smack the smirk off Darya’s face.

Meri pressed her fingers to the man’s neck. His pulse beat strong beneath her fingers. A rush of cold flowed from her hand to her chest. “He’s alive. Go for help.”

Darya opened her mouth, but for once, she snapped it shut without complaining about doing all the work because of Meri’s poor health. Instead, she turned on her heel and jogged toward the house.

Meri waited until she was out of view and turned back to the stranger, perplexed by the strange sensation she’d experienced when she touched him. A chill? No, not quite. Unlike goosebumps from a cold draft, it had calmed her. It reminded her of slipping into cool water on a hot day.

The man’s eyes flew open and he thrashed so violently that she toppled backward.

Meri splashed around, trying to stand. “Hey! It’s okay. You’re safe.”

He shot to his feet and let out what she could only describe as a battle cry. A knife in one hand and the other balled into a fist, he stared down at her.

“Don’t hurt me.”

“Gods be damned.” He met her eyes, staggered back, and passed out.

Chapter 2

Zale woke to the pungent odor of antiseptic and whispering voices. He sensed four humans nearby. Three females and a male. The male smelled of death—cancer, probably. One of the females wore too much perfume and the other had a sour, medicinal aroma. He detected no anger or malice.

“No, not a shark. They aren’t puncture wounds,” the oldest of the three females said.

Zale wouldn’t be lying in this bed because of a shark attack. He’d be back in Mallorca with his jewels and a full belly. No puny fish could make him feel as if he’d lost a fight with an aircraft carrier.

“What I want to know is who is he and is he married?” This from the one who’d bathed in perfume. The woman’s subsequent laughter set his jaw on edge.

The male said, “Dr. Masalis will be here by noon. Meri, stay with him in case he wakes.”

Meri? Zale remembered nearly skewering a young woman on the beach.

“I’ll sit with him. She should rest after the excitement this morning. We don’t want to upset her fragile heart,” the annoying one said in a voice sweet enough to rot teeth.

“I don’t mind.” The one they called Meri had a lovely voice, despite her irritation.

The man, probably the women’s father, said, “Darya, you have a garden full of painters waiting and a studio to clean.”

Ah, yes. The artists’ colony. Fifteen years earlier, the island was in an uproar because an American had purchased the house on the southern tip of Psara. The local inhabitants were appalled when the buyers turned the place into a refuge for hipsters and wannabe Picassos.

A female scent filled the room, pleasant enough, if not for the medication seeping from her pores. A clanking noise followed the woman’s movements, as if she were a living breathing wind chime.

Zale ignored her.

Unless they could make him richer, humans didn’t interest him. He had more important things to consider—for instance, the female dragon who’d taken a pound of his flesh in an unprovoked attack.

That she’d come at him without cause told him she either had young nearby or was rogue. Neither option bode well for the human inhabitants of the island.

Meri dragged her chair closer to the bed. Her heart beat a syncopated cadence, reminding him of the comment Darya had made about the woman’s health. She hadn’t appeared ill on the beach; then again, their meeting hadn’t exactly lent itself to investigating her constitution.

The woman rested her hand on his. A blast of heat traveled from his fingers, through his chest, and ended in his groin. He drew a breath and opened his eyes. It had been a while since he’d enjoyed the company of a woman, but not long enough to justify his reaction to a simple touch.

Meri jerked her hand back and stood so quickly that she toppled the chair in the process. “You. You’re awake.”

“That I am.” Zale ran his hand through his hair. The salt water had dried, leaving it stiff.

The clanking sound drew his attention to her skirt, a long, gauzy style he’d never found particularly attractive. Whatever she had in her pockets weighed the material down so that the waistband rested on her narrow hips, revealing a fair amount of olive-colored skin.

He motioned to her skirt. “What is that noise?”

She stared as though she hadn’t understood the question.

He jabbed his finger in the direction of her hips. “What’s in your pockets?”

The woman—who was really more of a girl—blushed and yanked her skirt up, ruining his view. “Sea glass.”

“Why are you weighted down with sea glass?” He looked her over from the top of her head to her bare feet. She was tall, damned tall for a human female, and thin. Willowy.

Her dark hair hung to the center of her back…and those eyes. He hadn’t seen eyes that color since he’d come face-to-face with one of the last Pisces dragons in the war.

The girl’s mouth opened but nothing audible emerged.

“Unless you plan to throw yourself into the sea and drown, empty your pockets. It’s making a hell of a racket.”

Her eyes flashed from sea green or a deeper shade mere words could never describe. “I’ll leave the drowning to you, thank you very much.”

The corners of his mouth tugged up as if pulled by strings. He couldn’t remember the last time someone spoke to him in such a manner. “Forgive me. I’ve been told I’m a terrible patient.”

She eyed him and righted the chair. “Do you know what happened to you?”

“No.” Memories of the female sea dragon flashed through his mind, causing the wounds at his side to ache. He pressed his hand to his ribs, surprised to find them bandaged and himself bare. “Where are my clothes?”

“Your shirt and jacket were ruined, but your jeans and socks are in the wash.” She lowered her eyes.

Her blush piqued his curiosity. Had she been the one to disrobe him, or did her reaction have to do with his lack of undergarments while his were in the wash?

“Is there someone I should call?” The space between her brows wrinkled, and he found himself resisting the urge to smooth it.

“I’ll check in with my assistant later.”

Meri stood and removed a small mountain of sea glass from her pockets. The way she sorted the glass, first by color then by size, amused him.

“How long was I out?”

One shoulder rose and fell. “I found you on the beach at sunrise. It’s a little after ten now. Three hours.”

Three hours? He eased himself upright, winced, and thought the better of it. His wounds weren’t serious. They should have healed when he shifted back to human form. Now that he thought about it, his dragon had been rather docile since he’d woken.

“My father sent for a doctor. You should try to rest until he examines you.” She moved to the side of the bed and tugged the blanket to his shoulders as if tucking in a small child. “I’m Meri, by the way.”

Her touch sent another shock of heat from his upper arm straight to his testicles, leaving him momentarily stunned. I must be more injured that I thought. Perhaps the beast knocked me out and tossed me around like an orca with a seal?

She rolled her lips inward and looked away.

“Zale Argyris. And I don’t need a doctor. I need a shower and food. Preferably in that order.”

She hugged herself, slumping her shoulders as if wishing to disappear.

Perfect. Now I’ve hurt her feelings. What happened to the feisty woman from moments before? He pressed his fingers to his temples to stave off the throbbing headache. “I apologize. I’m out of sorts. I owe you my gratitude. I believe you saved my life.”

An emotion he couldn’t discern, by sight or smell, crossed her expression. She turned for the door.

“Wait.” Zale pushed himself upright and slung his legs over the side of the bed.

Meri hurried to his side. “You really shouldn’t get up.”

He shook his head and pushed to his feet.

“Oh!” She gasped and spun on her heel.

Despite his lack of equilibrium and the throbbing in his side, Zale laughed. He guessed Meri was in her mid-twenties, but she had an innocence about her that made her seem younger.

“I’ll get you a…” She scurried into the bathroom and returned with one hand covering her eyes and the other holding a towel.

“Thank you.” Zale wrapped it around his hips. “It’s safe to lower your hand.”

She peeked between her fingers and laughed.

“Americans.” He took a step toward the bathroom.

“Europeans.” Meri held her arms wide at her sides, reminding him of a mother waiting to catch a toddler taking his first steps.

“We aren’t the ones hung up on sex.” He stepped into the shower and pulled the curtain shut.

“Touché.” Meri’s voice rose over the falling water. “Are you dizzy? Should I wait?”

“If you wouldn’t mind staying…” Zale entertained the idea of feigning weakness so she’d join him. Despite her shortcomings as a human, he’d enjoyed making her blush.

“Oh. Sure, I mean. Of course.”

“Thank you.” He allowed the water to loosen his bandages before peeling them off. The wounds had barely healed. Zale pressed his hand to the wall to remain upright.

Unhealed wounds led to scars. Had the feral female marked him? Had he found his mate? Would fate be so cruel to bind someone in his position to a rogue?

“Mr. Argyris?”

He shook himself from his thoughts. “Please, call me Zale.”

“Is that a family name? I’ve never heard it.”

“Yes. It means power of the sea.” He pressed his fingers to the tattered skin and hissed. Mate or not, I’m going to hunt her down and make her pay.

Her voice rose. “Everything okay?”

“Where are you from? Meri, Meri with cheeks as red as a berry.” Zale cringed. Had those words actually come from his mouth?

“East Central Texas. Where men don’t wash up on beached or walk around without clothes.” Her laughter warmed him almost as much as her touch.

“How long have you lived on Psara?” he asked, washing the sea from his skin.

“A little over fifteen years. We moved here when I was nine. I’m guessing you’re Greek?”

“That’s correct.”

“Your English is very good.”

He rinsed off and parted the curtain enough to retrieve the towel. “Thank you. I’ve lived all over the world.”

Meri stood, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “I’ll give you some privacy.”

“And perhaps some food and a phone?”

Her smile might have fooled some people, but not him. It was as hollow as his stomach.

“Will you show me your sea glass when you return? I’m a bit of a collector myself.”

Her eyes lit when she met his gaze. “Sure.”

Warmth flowed over him like a swift current. His heart sat up and took notice, as did his dragon, and parts lower on his body.

“I’ll be right back.”

Zale stayed in the bathroom until the bedroom door closed. Once back in bed, he pulled a second blanket over himself. The temperature in the room had dropped ten degrees with her departure.

“Meri, Meri…how does your garden grow?”