Once at her floor, Alex walked and half dragged Gabe into her dingy studio apartment. With a sigh of relief, Alex lowered him into a sitting position on her sagging bed. He looked up at her with a face that was smooth instead of scaly, detracting from the dragon imagery. Instead, she was reminded of the little lizards that climbed on her window screen. Only he was gold, not green.

What were they called...

Anolis carolinensis, a calm voice from the back of her mind told her. Also known as the green Anole or American chameleon.

Alex told that part of her mind to shut up. That calm voice really irked her. It would pop out of nowhere, deliver its message, and vanish again.

Gabe moaned and slumped backwards. He reached for her with five fingered hands with opposable thumbs. Alex held his hand to steady him and saw that he didn't have fingernails, but short, neat claws.

"Are you hurt?" she asked.

Duh, he was hunted down and shot with tranquilizer guns. Maybe I can ask more obvious questions.

His answer was another moan. She lowered him down the rest of the way and inspected him. His shirt, tunic, and pants were a sturdy cloth that looked hand-woven. She unbuckled the straps on his chest and wiggled out two sheaths from underneath him. One held a staff but the other was empty.

"Let's put these to the side." Alex also gingerly removed a large dagger from its sheath on his leather belt.

Okay, dragon-chameleon guy is armed and dangerous. Why aren't I more afraid? Maybe because we're both being hunted by human men? The enemy of my enemy is my friend sort of thing? Or  was it because he was outnumbered and losing and I'm a sucker for a victim?

She felt the incredibly soft hide of his arms for wounds and tried not to blush. His head was human shaped except for his short muzzle. She felt along his skull for wounds or fractures, marveling again at the softness of the leathery hide.

The last time I felt leather this soft was on a five hundred dollar pair of Italian shoes in an upscale shoe store.

Gabe was the gleaming golden color of a perfect tan at the end of a long summer. Alex wiggled her fingers up his back and felt something odd. With difficulty, she rolled him on his side and pulled up his tunic. Hemmed slits opened on the sides of his shirt and his back shimmered through them. She tugged the shirt up as well and then traced a line down his back when her eyes refused to focus on it.

Maybe this will help me find out what he is. He has leathery hide, claws, and muzzle like a dragon and I guess dragons can be gold, but he's human-sized and no tail.

A translucent golden wing slowly extended out from the shimmering illusion of a muscular back. The opalescent membrane caught the light and reflected it softly. Alex traced the wing sail, marveling that it was ultra-soft in a velvety way, unlike the buttery smooth leather of his hide. She inhaled and his scent of leather and the woods settled deep into her brain, soothing her. She didn't find any wounds and carefully tucked the wing against his back. It settled along the lines of muscles and disappeared into the illusion again.

Alex rolled him onto his other side, trying to grunt in a feminine way, and repeated the procedure to check his other wing. Satisfied they were fine, she pulled his shirt back down and eased him onto his back again.

Wings like a dragon but no tail like one. Still maybe dragon, maybe not.

Gabe spasmed but then fell limp, his breathing shallow.

Alex felt his chest, the pecs that any man would kill for. No six-pack abs, though, but a flat belly like a dragon. Alex stopped at his waistband.

I'm not undoing the pants of any man, dragon, or alien, if their lives depended on it. If they're any injuries down there, he's gonna die.

Alex skipped down to his legs. His quads and calves were equally well-muscled, and she caught herself enjoying them. She snatched back her hand. After Morgan, she had sworn she was done with any relationship, any enjoyment. There was only justice left for her now.

But this isn't Morgan. Not even the same species as Morgan.

Gabe opened his eyes and looked up at her. She felt heat creep up her face. He didn't have a reptile or dragon's eyes. They were the deep, soulful brown of a large dog, like a Golden Retriever or lab.

He's gorgeous.

Alex decided not to delve into the psychology or rather, psychopathology, of her attraction to a non-human.

"I was checking if you were hurt anywhere. Are you?" She asked, embarrassed that she had chick-groped him. "I had to, really. Checking for injuries. Necessity. Really."

He shook his head. "Just cold," he whispered.

Alex pulled the covers of her bed out from under him and tucked them around him. "Sorry, but I don't own a heater. New Orleans winters are mild, at least for us humans. But I have a first aid book somewhere." Alex waved her arms, indicating the piles of books stacked against the walls. "Maybe it will say how to treat tranquilizers."

I could try my neuro-electric powers. They work on brains. Yeah, I fry brains. I better look in my books.

She ran her fingers down the spines of the books as she read the titles. Alex liked temp jobs at bookstores because of the employee discount. She had a section of books by New Orleans writers and smiled as she read the titles like Confederacy of Dunces. She skipped over the science fiction and fantasy novels. Alex gripped the two true crime books with reflexive anger.

I'll find those serial killers and rapists and push the limits of my neuro-electric powers to make sure they never hurt another human being.

She dropped the books on the floor and resumed her browsing: cozy mysteries, westerns, classics. No romance novels because Alex couldn't fathom another man touching her, not after Morgan.

Human man.

Her stomach twisted at the thought of Morgan, his invasion of her body, at just the mere whisper of sex. She looked down at her leather outfit. "Hang a second. I'm taking a two minute summer camp shower and changing." Alex grabbed her sweats and dashed into her bathroom. She stripped, jumped in the shower and scrubbed off the dirt of the alley, fighting her compulsion to scrub harder harder harder. She rinsed, dried, and pulled on the sweats.

Much better to be clothed in sturdy, ugly sweatshirt and pants than my pimp-hunting outfit.

Alex re-entered the room feeling armored against attraction of any sort. After more rummaging, she produced two books from the piles. "Regular first aid or veterinary?"

She sat in the bed next to Gabe and peered at him. "I'll start with veterinary, the chapter on reptiles."

There sure as hell isn't one on humanoid dragons.

"As reptiles are ectotherms," she read aloud to Gabe, even though his eyes were closed, "they are unable to produce their own body heat. When a reptile is sick or injured, it is important to keep it at the right temperature." Alex laid her hand against his face and it was cold. Alex resumed reading out loud, as if to a child at bedtime, "a heat lamp is ideal, although a hot rock can be substituted. Be sure not to overheat your pet." She paused in her reading and looked down at the sleeping, or unconscious, Gabe. "Not likely as I don't have either, not even an electric blanket." She resumed reading. "Palpate over the entire body to find any injuries or dry hide cracks,"

Alex considered that a moment.

Yep, already chick-groped the alien, dragon, American chameleon guy. Again, not delving into my psychopathology. Gotta help him before he dies.

Gabe moaned again. All the stores within easy distance were closed at this hour and the ever-open bars didn't sell heaters or electric blankets. Her landlord controlled the temperature in this dive.

He wouldn't raise the heat to save his own mother. Just like a human man. Maybe this humanoid, dragon American chameleon guy is better.

Alex paged through the regular first aid book.

"Hypothermia," she read aloud again to her unresponsive audience of one, "it is important to warm the victim slowly but consistently. If you are out in the field and unable to access emergency services, the rescuer should provide warmth to the victim by means of shared body heat. Bundling in a sleeping bag with the victim after removing clothing from both victim and rescuer ensures maximum skin contact and warmth."

Alex stopped and glowered at the cover of the book. "Who wrote this ? Playboy?"

Then her dark sense of humor at her predicament kicked in. "My mother warned me not to sleep with strange ectotherms."

With a sigh of resignation, Alex slid under the covers next to him. She laid her head on her regular pillow but clutched the extra absorbent pillow that she sobbed into close to her chest.

Didn't dragons kidnap and eat virgins?

She didn't have to worry about that. Morgan had ripped that away from her, along with a fair amount of blood, and a piece of her soul.

"You'll pardon my wearing sweats, as I hardly know you," she told the still sleeping Gabe.

In response to her body heat, if not her words, Gabe snuggled closer. Alex squeezed her 'sobbing pillow' harder and grimaced. He seemed content to lie next to her, head on her shoulder, so she relaxed a little. She peeked sideways at him. He looked perfectly peaceful, a relaxed dragon, one of the good-natured ones that helped the hero of the book.

"Endothermic me is warming ectothermic you, but misbehave and I'll toss you in the alley myself," she said.

Gabe's arm fell across her and he pulled closer. She flinched and was about to protest until she felt how cold he was.

"Okay, but no further. I don't kiss on a first date."

I don't even date, but what kind of person was I before I woke up from the darkness four months ago?

Here she was, in bed with a six foot, humanoid dragon guy.

Was I promiscuous or just insane? Am I still insane?

Once again, Alex tired of beating herself up. She could either sleep with the dragon guy or not, but if she didn't, he would die.

Not sleep with. Next to. Clothed. Both of us.

I'm such a sucker for a victim. But who will be the victim at the end of this night?

*****

A/N

Thanks to my readers who suggested edits and to the ones who loved it as is!

Rather_Be_A_Unicorn

BookAddictAR

RonixReader13

Jagermeanshunter