he turned toward it automatically, trying to figure out the source and the cause.
Someone said, “There he is!” in a distinctly American accent. They all turned, like a flock of Canadian geese spotting someone to terrorize.
Reporters. A giant flock of reporters. Or was a group of reporters a gaggle? A battery of reporters? No, a terror of reporters!
Didn’t matter. They rushed forward with phones, video cameras, and microphones raised, all thrust in his direction. Questions were shouted at him in a thick mélange of languages that turned it all into angry noise.
Ravi froze for a second, startled at this rush of reporters that seemed to multiply in front of his eyes.
Uh-oh. He had very firm orders to not talk to any reporters. Under any circumstances, including near-death.
Um. Ravi’s eyes darted about, trying to find a quick and easy exit, but this street was lined with small stores, and going into a store would be a supremely Bad Idea, right up there with rescuing an old, crippled war plane. He’d be cornered very quickly. Yeah, no, let’s not do that.
Without any plan, he turned on his heels and started running, his speed ramping up quickly. Even on two legs, there wasn’t much that could touch the speed of a wind dragon. He could outrun them, certainly, up until someone had the bright idea to get into a vehicle and chase him down. Even he couldn’t outrun a car.
Shiiiiiiit, where to go, what to do? Should he call for a lift? Run to the outside of town limits, shift, and then go airborne?
“Stop running! We just have a few questions!” someone yelled behind him.
Ravi dared a peek over his shoulder. A woman half-leaned out of a van window, a mic thrust forward in her hand like a lance. Damn, at least a few of them had managed to get into cars quickly.
He was running out of time. No pun intended.
In his panicked state, Ravi’s eyes almost skipped over the figure on the bike completely. What caught his attention was the slim, masculine build straddled so confidently over the bike, the hint of a handsome face under the helmet, currently watching him with interest.
Handsome man plus bike. Win!
Ravi spun like a dancer, changing directions so he was moving toward the motorcycle. He threw himself onto the back of the bike, arms automatically going around the man’s middle even as he ordered, “Drive, fucking drive!”
The man spluttered a laugh for some reason, but thankfully gunned it. The motor roared as the bike took off, creating the most interesting vibration through all of Ravi’s bones. Tightening his hold on his unexpected savior, he leaned close, carefully moving his body and shifting his weight with the man so as not to wreck them.
He’d never been on a motorcycle before. This was amazing! The nimble little machine weaved through the streets and growled like it was a mechanical dragon. They took a sharp turn and zipped around another corner before plunging down a narrow alley, quickly putting distance between them and his pursuers. He chanced a glance over his shoulder to find the journalists had been reduced to a distant crowd that was shrinking by the second as they got farther way.
Oh, yes! Ravi had to get one of these things. If he couldn’t streak across the sky in his dragon form, then a motorcycle was definitely the next best thing.
And it would be even better if he could get this wonderful-smelling man to teach him how to ride a motorcycle on his own. Without thinking, Ravi hugged the man and pressed his nose against his neck, taking another deep sniff. It was all rather intoxicating. The narrow escape, the rush of the wind, the man’s smile, the rumble of the engine, his rescuer’s wonderful smell—wait.
Waiiiit. He knew that scent.
A delighted smile exploded over Ravi’s face. “Hot damn, I have a mage!”
“I have a dragon!” the man responded with a laugh.
Score! Ravi was almost proud of himself, except he hadn’t actually connected the scent to the man until now, so probably no brownie points. He leaned into the man’s back, wanting to ask a lot of a questions. Probably couldn’t while riding, it was hard to hear over the wind in his ears and the bike’s motor. His ears could manage it okay, but he didn’t think the mage’s could.
The mage, bless him, his children, and his dog, sped well out of town and away from pesky reporters trying to chase Ravi. They didn’t stop until they