by Eve Langlais
“See. Luc hates me,” she mumbled sadly. Which made her arousal and body tingling every time she saw him all the more wrong.
“I don’t hate you,” he snapped. “I hate dragons.”
Babsy cocked her head. “Fair enough. I’d hate you, too, but that would imply caring what you thought, and you know what? I just really don’t.”
“But we should care because it is our fault. We sent the dragon mage to his dimension, and she ate his whole family, leaving him all—all-all alone.” Elspeth wailed anew as the tragedy of it hit her.
Babsy gave her one last back rub before she jumped to her feet and stalked over to Luc. “What is wrong with you?” She jabbed him in the chest. A bare chest.
Skin to skin.
Elsie’s tears stopped as heat suffused her, evaporating them.
She really shouldn’t poke him like that.
“What’s wrong with me?” He sounded rather incredulous. “How about the fact that your kind decimated my entire world?”
“The dragon mages did. Not us. And most definitely not her.” Babs pointed her finger at Elsie. “She doesn’t need a whining asshat telling her she’s at fault when his damned people might have survived had they been impossibly better than dragons.”
“Are you blaming us for their actions?”
“You tell me. Are you at fault?”
Elsie roused herself enough to exclaim, “Babsy, you can’t blame the victim.”
“Why the hell not? He thinks it’s okay to unload on you. Casting the blame for his people’s weakness on you. What is wrong with you?” Babette swung her glare onto him. “Can’t you fucking tell she’s sensitive?” Babsy yelled at Lucifer, and he got that look on his face again.
Elspeth struggled to her feet, tangled somehow in the sheets, and staggered toward them. “Don’t yell at him, Babsy. It’s not his fault.” She stood in front of him. “He needed to express his feelings. How can he heal without expelling his anger?”
“Now he needs to damned well apologize, or he’ll be healing from my fist.” Babette leaned around to shake one in his direction.
“In the dungeon, I learned to eat any kind of flesh. I have to say, since arriving here, I’ve been wondering about the taste of dragon.”
“Did you just threaten to eat me?” Babsy wrinkled her nose. “Dude, that is gross. I’m into chicks, not dicks.”
He looked puzzled, whereas Elsie was a tad bit…angry? Which didn’t make much sense. Why be upset? Look at them all talking. Without blood. Or hitting.
It wouldn’t be hard to start the hitting. Starting with Luc, who really needs to put a shirt on. Really, flaunting himself like that. He’s even tempting Babette.
Luc recoiled. “You flatter yourself if you think I would ever find a dragon attractive. To me, you are the enemy.”
“We’re not your problem, dude. Sounds like your issue is with Voadicia.”
“My problem is with dragons,” he pointed out.
“She was a dragon mage,” Babsy corrected. “And we obviously understood she was badass, which was why she got exiled out of this world.”
“You sent them to my world instead of executing them.”
“Because, back then, they were related to people who didn’t want to see them all die.”
“You could have imprisoned them.”
“We did. And then someone considered it mean, and so banishment was sought.”
“Well, because your ancestors were soft, Voadicia and her cohorts continued to perpetrate their evil.” He glared.
Elspeth sobbed. “You’re right. We did it.”
Babette barked, “Gawd’s sake, Elsie. This is not our fault. Our ancestors tossed them into that hell world figuring they’d die out.”
“Except Voadicia found a spell to extend her life at the expense of others.”
“And whose fault is that?” Babsy rose on tiptoe and said much too nicely, “You guys were the ones who left that kind of magic lying around. Making you twat waffles. So, your fault.”
His brows rose. “You would blame the eradication of my kind on me? Only a dragon would be so arrogant. Which is why your kind needs to die. I’m here to avenge my people.”
“You and what army?”
“I don’t need an army.”
“Think you can take me? Bring it.” Babette beckoned with her fingers.
Perhaps it was time for an intervention. Elspeth threw her arms around them both as best she could. “Make love, not war.” She’d gladly donate her body to making love…to him. Babsy could watch since she didn’t like boys. Sounded like a good plan all around.
She squeezed him tightly. He stiffened.
“What is she doing?” he whispered.
“Hugging,” Babette said with a long sigh. “Which is better than the crying, so shut up and enjoy it.”
“What if I don’t want to enjoy it?”
“No one enjoys it, but given her special needs, we endure it.”
“I can hear you,” Elspeth replied. “And am so happy to see you starting to talk and become friends. It wouldn’t do at all for my two besties to hate each other.”
“Besties? What is she saying?” he asked.
Rather than let Babsy reply, Elspeth beamed at Lucifer. “You are no longer alone. I will make sure of that. Best friend.”
Chapter Eleven
There were many ways Luc could have handled Elsie’s proclamation.
Acceptance—which would have gone against all his plans for vengeance.
Murder—which, for some reason, he found himself reluctant to do.
Or the option he chose, getting rid of both Elsie and her irritating companion.
“Out.” He broke free of the hug—and immediately missed the warmth. “Get out. Both of you, right now.”
The cap of blonde curls swayed as Elsie shook her head. “I can’t go now. We need to bond.”
“We are not bonding. We are enemies.”
“Not anymore. I’m going to do my best to make up for my naughty ancestors.”
“How can you atone? You can’t bring back the dead.” He was blunt in his statement, and her lower lip trembled instantly, making him feel chagrined.
A Shining One feeling chagrined? That was his father. He still had his balls. He straightened. “I want nothing but to see you dead.”
“I’m sorry you’re so broken. Just know that I’ve seen a few futures where you fare well.” Her eyes welled with tears, and he looked away.
She wouldn’t fell him with her false sympathy again. He didn’t want pity. “Leave, and don’t come back. Next time, I will act.”
Kill her?
He couldn’t. But he wanted her to believe he would. She makes me feel weak. Was there perhaps some truth to her earlier query about him having a reaction to her presence?
Perhaps there was a reason dragons and demons did not get along. Allergies.
“If you need me. Just call.” She kept trying, but he didn’t reply.
The one called Babsy snared Elsie by the arm and dragged her toward the door. “You heard the man. We should go. Like now. Later, dude.”
“There will be no later!” he called after them, his feet rooted in place as the door slammed shut.
He remained frozen, somewhat bemused by the whole encounter.
Usually, when he woke from a dream, he was alone and angry. Then the anger at fate would curl into despair. Why did he continue to suffer? Why keep trying?
Dancing green eyes came to mind.
The woman plagued him something fierce. Even when she wasn’t around.
He heard the purr of a motor, the glass in the windows not completely muffling it. She was gone.
Luc could relax. He still didn’t move. How could he when he caught sight of the bed?
The remembered weight of her atop him enough to get him hard.
He’d yet to solve his coitus problem. He looked down at his groin and his hand. That method had always worked before, yet now, he found himself reluctant. S
he had, after all, expressed interest in him.
And I rebuffed her.
Which was truly the right thing to do. However, tell his cock that.
A brisk knock saw him diving under the covers, lest Alfred notice his turgid issue bulging the front of his loose pants.
He had to say he really enjoyed cotton. There was something quite liberating about how he could let it all hang loose inside the soft, roomy fabric.
There were plenty of things to like about this world. Including the ease of it. Taking over the castle had proven effortless. Almost too simple. The lords of this time having barely any security. No guards. No traps.
He’d more or less waltzed in and declared that he was the ruler. He ordered everyone into the stable dungeon. Only a few tried to run. Those proved fun to chase down.
His first successful coup.
Eventually, an heir might show to try and take the castle from Luc. If they did, he’d fight them. He’d been practicing. The moving picture frame taught him quite a bit about battle and strategy.
A knock and a questioning “Sir?” had him shouting, “Come in.”
The door swung open. No clicking of a key first. He wasn’t a prisoner here.
Never again.
Alfred appeared, pushing a cart on wheels. The metal and wood of it were sturdy, three shelves in total. The top one held three silver domes and a carafe of orange fluid.
Alfred wheeled it to the table flanked by seats that tried to swallow a man if he used them.
“You set the girl free.” Luc stated it boldly and waited to see if Alfred would refute.
“I did.” Alfred parked the cart.
“Permission wasn’t given for that.”
“One does not lock up our lady friends.”
“She’s not a lady.” Which, he actually liked. “And we’re not friends.” Even if she’d tried to be.
“Is this your way of saying you killed her?”
The very idea startled Luc. “Do you see blood?”
“Not all deaths are messy. If you didn’t kill her, then where is Miss Elspeth?”
“She left. With her friend.” Who, while attractive, didn’t draw him as much as the statuesque, curly-haired Elsie.
“Left? Seems rather abrupt. She was here but a moment. Did you frighten her off?”
Luc stiffened at the tone in his manservant’s query. “What if I did? She is my enemy.”
“Yes, I could see how dangerous she was.” Spoken dryly.
It prickled Luc’s pride. “There were two of them.” When Alfred said nothing, he specified. “They’re dragons. I can’t consort with them.”
“I didn’t expect prejudice from you.”
“It isn’t prejudice. We are mortal enemies.”
“Why?” Alfred asked, removing the domes on the cart with flair.
Luc approached, almost drooling at the sight of the waffles, a word he’d learned quickly after the first one he ate. Fluffy baked goodness. Whipped cream. Fruit. He loved juicy, flavorful fruit. And bacon.
A plateful of salt and another of sugar. He was in culinary heaven.
He sat down and spread a napkin across his lap. “Dragons killed my people.”
“Those two girls didn’t.”
“But they are related”—even if distantly—“to those who did.”
“Am I to understand that you want to punish them for the sins of their forefathers and mothers?”
“Yes.”
“Did you hear the crazy in that statement, sir?”
“You would have me be like my father?” Luc sneered. “Weak. Afraid to fight. I won’t be made a prisoner again by the dragons. They must pay for their sins.”
“Let’s say you do kill all the dragons. What then?” Alfred poured the juice and then lifted the lid on another dome, showing off some fluffy eggs and potatoes. Ambrosia for his palate.
“When the world is rid of dragons, I will be at peace.” He sank into his first bite with closed eyes and a happy hum. Alfred wouldn’t let it rest, though, and ruined his sugar buzz.
“Will you be at peace? I don’t see how. Your family will still be gone. As will the only person to have extended a hand in friendship.”
“She isn’t my friend. You have let yourself be fooled. The dragoness offers a false hand. Her friend was more forthright. Even then, I will not be lulled into trusting that they might decipher my secrets.”
“What secrets?” Alfred asked, whipping out the second plate of bacon from the other dome, which had more waffles.
He took those, too.
In between bites, he confided. “My plan to rule the world.”
“Which isn’t that big of a secret, as you keep telling everyone about it. Might I ask how you intend to achieve such a feat?”
“I’m still working on it.”
Alfred refilled his juice glass. “Shouldn’t you have an army if you wish to perform a coup?”
The dilemma of the last male of a race…how did he convince people to follow him?
“I’ve only just arrived. Once word goes out about the perfidy of dragons, and my presence is revealed, legions will flock to fight.”
“What makes you think people will want to fight for you?”
“Because they’ll want to free themselves from the dragon’s yoke.” He couldn’t help a note of disdain.
“Except the dragons don’t control anyone but the dragons. Humans rule themselves. What makes you think they want you to rule over them?”
“Because.” He frowned at Alfred. “Shouldn’t you be on my side?” Was his servant working against him, too?
“I am on your side, which is why I am pointing out the flaws in your logic. Did it ever occur to you that perhaps your vendetta is best left behind? You’re here on earth now, sir, with a chance to start over.”
“But my people…my promise…” An assurance made to his mother to make the dragons pay. Except, really, it was only one dragon and her two sycophants who were truly to blame.
Where was Voadicia? Elsie and her friend had mentioned her, and a battle. Had they killed the dragon mage? That would be a shame, given he’d dreamt of the many ways he’d flay her skin from her body then feast on her heart.
With a dash of Montreal steak spice to liven up the raw flesh. Alfred now had standing orders to feed him the best filet mignon, tartare style, once a week.
“The suzerain is gone?” Luc asked.
“Who is that?”
“Dragon mage. Although she probably no longer looked like one given the way she’d perverted her nature. She would have been a fearsome foe.”
“There was something on the television. A bunch of amateur video footage showing dragons fighting. Big and small. All the colors of the rainbow.”
Dragons fighting amongst themselves? Fascinating.
“Did many of them die?”
“I don’t know.” Alfred hid the cleared plates under the domes. “There was much effort made to hide the event.”
“Did you see the suzerain, though?”
Alfred shrugged. “No idea. You’d have to find some footage. If the master likes, we can ask Google.”
“Is he a seer? Does he see into the past?”
“In a sense. Think of it as an all-knowing servant.”
“I wish to see this Google. And moving pictures for this battle.” He wanted to see for himself if the suzerain were truly gone. If not, he’d have to seek her out.
What if she was gone, though?
What then?
Her soldiers. Those obese beasts who did her every bidding. They’d set him free, but what happened to them?
He’d tried asking Alfred, but he didn’t know much about the dragons or pertinent events.
But you do know someone who might be willing to tell you more about Voadicia.
“Alfred, I need you to fetch Elspeth.”
“Exactly how am I to accomplish that?”
“By leaving this house and getting her.” Seemed rather obvious. “I need to
speak to her.”
“If you want to talk, then call her.”
“On the telephone?” He didn’t trust those small rectangles of metal and glass with voices coming out of them.
“Yes, the phone. Did you get her number?”
Luc stared.
“Did you make plans to see her again at all?”
“Why would I meet with my enemy? I told her to get out. But I have changed my mind. I want her back.”
“But have no idea where she is?” Alfred shook his head and sighed. “I’ll do my best to find her, sir.”
Find her and keep her. He almost didn’t recognize the cold voice within as his own. But he knew what it meant.
My demon is rousing.
And Elspeth had claimed to see it.
When Alfred left, Luc finally made his way to the bathroom and its mirror for a look at his face.
His forehead especially. It appeared smooth. Unblemished. Which he knew already from repeatedly running his hand over it; yet he’d hoped for more.
He grimaced. How foolish to hope he’d see a sign of the horns Elsie had supposedly seen.
She lied!
Thing was, he believed her. It was what his people used to be.
Demons. Swarthy skinned. The texture rougher, more protective. Winged, mighty spans capable of soaring flight. And horns. The larger, the more powerful you were in the demon magic.
But with that other powerful self came the pride and, most especially, the violence. Demons killed. Supposedly without care.
He wouldn’t know. The world was their prison, the rocks in that place, especially the stone in the castles, rampant with a metal that made it impossible for them to change. That same rock ran in veins through their continent. It made it easy to change their ways.
They stopped transforming.
But worse than that. They didn’t care. They were perfectly peaceful. They didn’t need to be demons.
They didn’t fight. Not even to save themselves.
I am not those who left before me…
Luc had a chance to do things differently. To fight for his freedom.
You’re already free.
For now. What of when the dragons noticed and tried to imprison him? They were, after all, partially responsible for the demons being imprisoned in the first place. Letting them take some of the blame for the humans that kept disappearing. And then killing them off when they joined them in Hell, using them to further their own agenda.