Because others had.
They strode side by side into the alley as if they owned the world, and they moved like no human ever could—a smooth kinda swagger. The tops of their hooded heads hovered at least two feet above my own. Which was two feet too many…
Crap.The resident overlords. Tall, dark, and loathsome.
The cloak lifted off the biggest one’s back, pushing the fabric up and out as the massive wings beneath it spread. I caught a glimpse of the long, whippy tail below the hem. It thrashed like an angry cat’s. Then my gaze dropped to his feet?—
They were typical feet, ample with long toes tipped in short talons. But—were they really clad inBirkenstocks?
OrangeBirkenstocks?
My mind grasped it and dismissed it almost as swiftly. As I backed away, I was dimly aware of the two gang guys departing in a hurry. My own flight was hampered by an enormous, rusty garbage bin. It forced me to face the oncoming Drakes rather than turn tail and bolt.
A totally inappropriate curse echoed through my head. I wassoscrewed.
With my hood down, scarf gone, and hair loose around my head,there was no mistaking me for a Drolgok, or now that was out the window, a male human. And of the many possible reasons that few females still walked the streets, Drakes were at the top of the list.
The cloaks did not disguise that the one on the left was a true behemoth. It wasn’t only his wings that made him appear large, his broad shoulders pushed against the confines of the cloak. The other moved less like a grizzly bear, and more like a stalking lion.
“Nothing to see here, folks,” I said, hoping a little humor would distract them enough to stop them from doing—what?
The lion-ish one cocked his head beneath his concealing hood. “It did not look like a nothing. And what is a ‘folks’?”
He rumbled the consonants and rolled the vowels in typical Drake-heavily-accented-English, but it wasn’t as garbled as I was used to deciphering. This guy had put some effort into learning the language. The bass tone reverberated through my body and caused an odd warmth to spread… I’d like to say I was pissing myself, but the reality was somewhat different.
No way I could beturned onby this. These guys were the effingenemy. My confusion further hampered my feet, which needed to be moving, like, twenty seconds ago.
“Folks,” I repeated. “Slang forpeople.”
Grizzly-like guy said something in their native language, a series of rumbly musical up and down words, among which I thought I caught “Drolgok”. I understood enough Drakonian to get by, but my brain seemed as frozen as the rest of me.
My guess was verified a moment later when lion-ish guy stated, “You—you dress like a Drolgok.”
I swallowed and went for it. “Didn’t think there were rules against bad taste.”
“Why are you wearing a tail?” Grizzly asked. If anything, his voice was even deeper.
“I liked yours so much I wanted one of my own.” Okay, flippant wasn’t a good idea, but it was all I had.
Lion bent to retrieve my scarf from the ground. Then he raised itto his nose, andinhaled. Long, and hard, as if I’d drenched it in the finest of perfumes.
My knees went weak.What the… I stopped myself just in time. Why did I find that hotter than hell? Dammit, I needed to get the hell out of here. But before I’d taken one step, Lion raised a free hand to lower his hood.
He wasn’t Tazier clan.
It was my first thought, based not on the unfamiliar facial tattoo, but on the red-gold hair and features that were handsome rather than carved from glass.
His eyes weren’t obsidian, either.
Many humans spoke of the power of the Drake stare, enough to tell me that I should never match gazes with them. But it all went out the window when eyes far more emerald than I’d ever seen before ensnared me in their glittering power.
It was like getting hit by lightning. That look zinged clear through to my soul, and I trembled with the power of it. I was unable to move, or even breathe.
My body might be frozen, but my mind recorded details as only my highly visual artist’s brain could. There was nothingdarkabout this guy. Golden brows framed that incredible gaze, and they contrasted with the red-gold hair that flowed around it—it had to be longer than my own, but most of it was tied back in an elaborate knot. His features were so perfect that I itched to draw him—arched brows, high cheekbones, a square jaw, an aristocratic nose, and sculpted lips. His ears came to points and were encased in metal with dragons etched over the gleaming surface.
Freezing me with a look was one thing, but I hadn’t expected the heat pulsing through me. Along with the insane compulsion tokneelbefore him.
No effing way was I doing that. Something deep within me rebelled, and I raised my chin. It was reassuring to know that I had some small ability to resist him.
