Chapter 4

Hunter followed her directions. He didn't pause to consider his actions. There was one and only one path and he was committed to it.

He hadn't taken a girl driving since he was a teenager. What he was doing was contrary to all of his training as a hunter and he ditched it without thinking. Over and over they had made him practice continual analysis, pattern recognition, and tactical reassessment. Tactics require continual revision as new data emerges. Then she smiled at him and the thought of examining anything dissipated. He smiled back.

They pulled into the side entrance of a state park with a broken gate. After a few more minutes they arrived at a small bluff overlooking a small stream. Beer cans and food bags poked out of the brush in the car headlights. He killed the car engine.

He kissed her across the console between the bucket seats. Her tongue was insistent, growing more frantic as he stroked her cheek and neck with his fingers. The strains of Jackson Browne's "Tender is the Night" rose up from his memory.

Katie motioned with her eyes towards the back seat. He shook his head with amusement. Breaking their hold on each other, he exited the car and began to strip. She imitated him, tossing her clothes on the hood. Walking to the front of the car, he saw her in the light of a three-quarter moon. Her skin glowed. Her eyes reminded him of dark orbs hidden in shadow. The skin of her breasts was soft in faint light and her hips were cocked in invitation. He was painfully hard.

Slipping his arm around the small of her back, he pulled her to him and resumed their kiss. Every muscle in his body began to crackle with electricity. As she ground her mons into him, the electricity moved through his muscles into his skin.

Katie moaned loudly. She shuddered and pressed herself harder against him. She nipped his earlobe.

"Take me," she whispered.

The command was so simple, so sincere. He bowed his head in acquiescence. He grabbed their clothes, making an impromptu blanket on the car hood where he laid her down. He lifted her and she wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist.

His cock found her soaking entrance and he slowly pushed into her. Maybe there was a moment of resistance but he saw none in her face. He pressed ever further until their hips touched. The electricity in his skin surged and her eyes went wide with wonder.

"Yes!" she cried out softly and she began undulating her hips. He met her thrust for thrust with each stroke sending another spark between them. He felt her nails dig into his upper arms and watched sweat break out on her upper lip. The muscles in her neck corded with tension. Their hips were a blur of motion as the energy between them continued to build.

"More, dammit, more," she called to him from between her clenched teeth.

He complied.

"Oh God!" one of them cried as one final burst of electricity surged through them and both exploded in orgasm. The world turned utterly white for a moment as if Hunter had left this reality. Gradually his sight returned and resolved back into the image of a sweaty, panting young woman beneath him.

"Is it always like this?" she asked.

He couldn't answer her question because it had never been like this. His muscles were actually shaking from the discharge of electricity, and Hunter wondered if he would be able to put on his clothes because his fingers felt numb.

Hunter placed his hands to her shoulders and began stroking her skin. Working his way down, he delighted in the firmness of her young breasts and teased her nipples with his fingertips. He traced her breast bone and made lazy circles on her stomach as he drew near to her belly button. Looking back up at her face, she looked young and vulnerable.

"How old are you, Katie?"

"Seventeen and a half," she said.

Dear God, he thought, I've gone and robbed the cradle. She had not appeared to be so young when he had met her. Nor had he thought to question her age earlier. The instant he laid eyes upon her, some instinct had kicked in that would not quit until they had mated.

Mated? From where had that word come? Given the choice he would not have had sex with jailbait.

"You aren't human are you?" she asked with an intense stare.

The question took his breath away, making him gasp.

She reached up to stroke his jaw. "You are something more, superman, maybe."

Her words reverberated in his brain for a moment. Hunter couldn't stop himself. Almost without thinking he spoke.

"No Katie, I'm not superman. I am ... Dragon."

For the second time that night, he pushed with his mind, this time directing her to accept his words. She sagged down into her clothes and nodded.

"A dragon," she said. "A living, breathing dragon and he is all mine."

Hunter finally stepped away from between her legs, looking in amusement as their commingled fluids dripped off his flaccid cock. Katie pushed herself up on her elbows.

"Are we safe here?" she asked with a tinge of worry in her voice. "Do we need to leave?"

He gazed around the immediate area with new senses that he had never had before.

"There are no monsters nearby, human or otherwise. The hour is getting late, though, and you do need to get home, as much as I want to stay."

They dressed in silence and climbed back into the car. Katie clung to his arm, her head on his shoulder, while he drove her home. She gave him a peck on the cheek, walked quickly to her door, and disappeared inside.

His head was bursting with thoughts and questions. The night was not quite so dark as he wound through the streets even though the moon was only at half. Hunter waved at the bored cop parked next to a stop sign and turned onto his brother's street.

In the bathroom, he stood at the sink washing the sticky mess from his genitals. A close look at his reflection showed flecks of gold floating in his irises. Hunter prayed that it was only an illusion, but he knew better. He had partaken of the dragon and the dragon wasn't dead. He was becoming the dragon. The orb was somewhere inside his body, changing him. Could he stop the changes taking place in his body and his brain? Could he excise the dragon's source, that confounding glowing orb, from his body? He had no answers when he crawled into bed.

His sleep was dreamless. He was woken by two jumping balls of eagerness who wanted their uncle to cook the fancy chocolate breakfast for them that he had promised the first night. Hunter wasn't about to ruin their fantasy of French cooking with the detail that Irma Rombauer published the recipe for French crepes in her 1930's Joy of Cooking. Hunter liked the little bit of cooking that he did. It grounded him and made him a part of his adopted city wherever he lived.

As he cooked the thin pancakes, Hunter looked at those two precious kids, wondering what was it like for a dragon to raise children. Did Typhon raise his children or merely sire them. How did a half snake with wings raise a three-headed dog? Hunter dismissed the stupid questions and squirted Hershey's chocolate syrup inside a rolled pancake and sprayed whipped cream on top.