The Moorigad Dragon: The Age of the Hybrid, Book 1

"Destinations" Chapter Two

There it was again. That unexplainable fealty, an unspoken devotion, a sense of duty dragging on her like a forged steel shackle clamped around her flesh. Why did this stranger have such overwhelming power over her?

She hissed. Ripped the half-drowned man free of the grasp pushing through the portal, sending her and her wet cargo tumbling back, back, back.

The river-drunk crashed upon her, the moisture from his garments quickly spreading to hers. "What the fu―?"

Kyra cut him off, shoved him off.

He rolled over like a wet lump of beef and looked like yesterday's leftovers. Several days dead. He wasn't, though. She could hear, see, even sense him breathing.

They'd plummeted in at the carnival's front entrance. Whatever had tried to grab them had missed the opportunity. The portal had successfully spun them out of reach.

Everywhere she looked, people milled about. They stood in the ticket line, waited at the cotton candy vendor, gathered around the balloon peddler. None of them paid any attention to the new arrivals. For the carnival, that was the norm. Strange things were the norm. Anything, everything, all things were the norm.

Kyra pinched her forehead. She didn't want to deal. Not with anything so messy. She rolled her eyes, let them land on him. He wasn't going to pick himself up. Get himself out of the space of the portal. Get himself tucked away safe in her dragon's lair.

Nope. She'd have to do it.

She puckered her lips. Allowed the pout for half a second, then picked him up and hauled him through the carnival at break-wing speed.

Kyra nodded to a carnie or two, not taking time for much acknowledgment. Her cargo stirred and she wanted him in the safety of her den―a 1970s Yellowstone Camper Trailer.

Down the midway, through the Fun Zone, across the valley of carnie campers to her own she charged. She kicked open the front door in a sliver-fold of time. Lucky, considering how the carnival worked. So unpredictable. Never the same map twice.

She deposited the man precariously on the edge of her bed and stood in awkward silence. Watched him cradle his head in his hands, and felt utterly clueless. Clueless on what to do next. Like a pile of sodden books, his weight sunk into the mattress. Sunk into her list of woes. Now that they were safe, she questioned why she'd even brought him back to her trailer, or to the carnival. Not that she knew where else to take him. She only knew she felt some strange connection between them. Some strange need to protect him. Beyond that, she didn't know what any of it meant.

Scratching her head, Kyra looked away from the groggy man and wandered to the far end of the room, as if escape were possible in a trailer so tight. She glanced between the wall clock and her exposed legs. Her current attire was unacceptable in front of a total stranger, or for her performance soon to start. After pulling black pants and boots from the closet and briskly fitting them to her form, she slipped a jacket on over Sebastian's shirt, shuffled a foot back, and turned to go.

She had just enough time to stop in and see Sebastian before her performance. She wanted—needed—to see where things stood between them.

The guy on the bed teetered and moaned. Kyra rolled her eyes and looked him over. "Why don't you rest? I'll be back to check on you later," she said, turning to leave.

"Wait. Don't go." His voice, choked by half the lake, fought to be heard.

She hesitated, hand balanced on the doorknob. Fierce dragon that she was, she had a funny fear of facing humans. This one, at least. She turned toward him. "Need something?"