Dragon's Secret

by J. D. Monroe

  “Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to be a tease.” She hesitated, her eyes wide and serious. “Thanks for taking care of me. I don’t know that you signed up for all of this.”

  “It was my pleasure,” he said. “And don’t apologize.”

  “You’re being so patient with me.”

  “I would be an asshole if I wasn’t,” he said. “And honestly, it’s really amazing to see you experience all of this. All of this is natural to me. I barely remember a time before I understood it. Seeing you reminds me of how incredible it is.”

  “Right,” she said.

  “And it doesn’t hurt that I enjoy your company,” he said.

  Her smile widened. “And getting me naked.”

  “That doesn’t hurt, either,” he said. “But to be fair, I didn’t look at first. When you changed back on Sunday, you made absolutely no effort to cover up. You can’t be mad at me for looking.”

  “Oh, I’m not,” she said, shooting him a look that sent molten heat straight to his groin. As if she sensed the lustful flame burning in him, her eyes drifted downward, then back up to his eyes. “Is there anything special I should know? Which fork to eat with? I’ve never done Thanksgiving with dragons.”

  He laughed. “Well, it’s only kind of Thanksgiving. We celebrate it because humans do, and you’ll find that dragons need little excuse to gather for a huge party that involves food and socializing.”

  “No human sacrifices, I hope.”

  “Goodness, no,” he said. “There will be a lot of people. Most of the local dragons turn up for these events. You’ll probably have people introducing themselves like the other night, but at least now you know why. The only real point of etiquette to know is that Izarin is in charge. No one eats until she gives permission. Other than that, just have fun and be yourself.”

  “You make it sound easy,” she said.

  “It is easy,” he said. He glanced over at her. “I’ll be there with you. I won’t let you fall.”

  The parking lot of Studio Noir was full, with dozens of cars parked along the street. It was Tellana’s preferred venue for their private parties. He parked a few blocks away and then opened the door for Chloe, prompting a smile. With a moment of hesitation, he grasped her hand, lacing his fingers through hers. “Is this…”

  She squeezed his hand, resting her other hand on his forearm. “It is.”

  He was proud as she walked next to him, heels clicking quietly on the concrete. Her energy was palpable, crackling and warm. “I’m glad you decided to come with me today.”

  “Me too,” she said, though he could feel her pulse accelerating.

  The familiar buzz of conversation greeted him as they approached the venue. Glass doors were propped open as workers unloaded coolers and dishes from a white panel truck on the street. One of the local Kadirai owned a catering business that handled all of Izarin’s events. His mother was a master chef and worked with them part-time. The smell of food, savory and spicy, drifted on the cold breeze.

  His cousin Malek stood at the door to greet guests. His dark eyes lit up as he saw Taegan. Malek embraced him, clapping him on the back, then pulled away to bow politely to Chloe. “Miss Madsen, it’s nice to see you again,” he said, his English clipped by a faint Kadirai accent. “We haven’t formally met. Malek Asharin.”

  Chloe’s eyebrows lifted. “Yes, I remember,” she said. “You grabbed me the other night.”

  Malek winced. “I apologize. That was a very strange situation.”

  She chuckled. “No worries. It’s nice to officially meet you.”

  “You as well,” he said. “I’m glad you’re part of the family now. Please, enjoy the meal, and Happy Thanksgiving.”

  “To you as well,” she said. As he guided her inside, Taegan rested his hand at the small of her back, relishing the subtle curve of her spine into the swell of her hips. There was such simple, yet enormous pleasure in touching her, in having her permission to touch and be so familiar.

  Inside Studio Noir, dozens of people lingered, talking noisily. Concrete floors and exposed ductwork gave the venue an industrial, unfinished feel, but it was decorated in lavish blue and silver silk, with strings of lights hanging down like vines.

  Glassware tinkled among the buzz of conversations woven in Kadirai and English. At the front of the venue, a small crew of volunteers with aprons tied over their dress clothes were arranging a buffet line. The combination of smells made his stomach growl.

  Large, round tables were arranged around the main area, leaving a small dance floor in the middle. A long, rectangular table stood in one corner, elevated on low wooden platforms. Dressed in dark blue, Izarin stood in front of the table, flanked by Tellana, as people came up to greet her. And to his delight, his mother, Nareta, stood with them. Though Izarin was his father’s sister, she had treated his mother like a sister even after his death.

  “I’d like you to meet someone,” Taegan said, nerves tickling in his belly. “Do you mind?”

  Her smile was tense now, and her eyes flitted from his to their surroundings before returning to him. She nodded. “Okay.”

  He escorted her to the head table, where a pair of men spoke politely to Izarin. After thanking her profusely for the invitation, they finally left. Taegan approached and bowed politely. When she offered her hand, he kissed the back of it, then gestured to Chloe. “Izarin, you previously met Miss Madsen, but under the circumstances, I thought another introduction was in order.”

  Chloe tensed, but Izarin flashed a bright smile, her red-painted lips in a full, genuine grin. “It is my great honor to welcome you,” she said. She held out her hands, and after a brief hesitation, Chloe stepped forward. She tensed slightly as Izarin grasped her shoulders and kissed her cheeks lightly. “Welcome to our family.”

  “Thank you,” she murmured. She let out a quiet sigh. “Thank you for making me welcome. I’m sorry about the confusion before.”

  Izarin nodded. “I’m just pleased that you’re with us now.”

  With his heart pounding, Taegan gestured to his mother. “And this is my mother, Nareta Asharin. She is an advisor to Izarin and has probably been in the kitchen supervising since dawn. Mother, this is my—my new friend, Chloe.”

  His mother extended her hands to Chloe. Chloe’s bright smile didn’t quite reach her eyes, which were still tense with fear. “It is so lovely to meet you, Chloe. I’d like to say Taegan has told me all about you, but my son seems to have forgotten how his phone operates in the last week.” Izarin laughed but he winced. Not a good start. “You look very lovely. I hope you’ll enjoy the festivities. Perhaps we will have an opportunity to chat.”

  “That would be nice,” Chloe said, her voice hesitant.

  When the introductions were done, Tellana stepped forward and kissed Chloe’s cheek. She finally seemed to relax at the sight of the familiar face. “Love the dress.”

  “You too,” Chloe said.

  “Save room for dessert,” Tellana said. “It’s good.”

  Taegan’s mother shot her a sharp look. “All of it is good, an-kadi. I saw to it myself.”

  “Of course, Auntie,” Tellana said mildly. “I meant no insult.”

  “We’re going to have a seat,” Taegan said before Tellana inadvertently started an argument with the older women. He led Chloe to a table in the opposite corner of the room, as far from the head table as he could manage. One of Malek’s business partners and gym co-owners, Kefir Maferi, sat there. Making a beeline for the table, he pulled out the chair next to Kefir and waited for Chloe to sit. He was one of the most easy going people Taegan knew, largely from working with humans all day at his gym. Taegan sat on the other side of her, blocking Chloe from getting stuck next to someone who would make her uncomfortable. “Chloe, this is Kefir. He and Malek own Ironscale Fitness. They sponsored the 5K.”

  Kefir looked her over, his eyes widening in recognition. “You’re the dragon who ran the race.”

  Her jaw dropped. “I didn’t know.
I’m really sorry. If you want—”

  Kefir laughed. “Serani, it’s fine. Malek told me we had a new friend and explained the situation. While I’m curious how you didn’t know, you have nothing to apologize for,” he said. “Besides, your thirty-five dollar entry fee is as good as everyone else’s, and our charity thanks you.” He tilted his head toward her. “If you ever want a real challenge, we have our own private races once in a while. Just for fun and bragging rights, of course.”

  For the first time since they’d entered the room, her face lit up. “That would be great,” she said.

  Kefir gestured to the woman next to him. She had short, platinum blonde hair, and the sweetheart neckline of her dress exposed colorful tattoos across the span of her chest. “This is my partner, Molly,” he said.

  Molly smiled and offered her hand to Chloe, then to Taegan. “Nice to meet you guys.”

  Taegan leaned in, draping his arm over the back of Chloe’s chair. She snuggled into him, just enough for her head to brush against his shoulder as they chatted. She was intent on the conversation with Molly, who was telling her about working in a popular tattoo shop downtown. Pride shone in her eyes as she explained they did traditional tattooing from the old world.

  A quiet bell tinkled, cutting through the crowd. At the front of the room, Izarin held up her glass. She spoke in English, thankfully. “My dear family, thank you for being here today. Though we come from many walks of life, we share so much. It is a blessing and a privilege to stand with you and observe a day of feasting and friendship. I ask that you continue to entreat the Skymother with your prayers for safety and peace for our kin in Ascavar, and that you would also be vigilant for those who would harm us here in our peaceful places. We thank you for your generosity, as we sent a truck to Seattle with a proper feast for our brothers and sisters of the Ironflight.” Chloe frowned and glanced back at him, but he shook his head. “But I know you’re all here to eat, so let us thank the Skymother for her many blessings. We thank her for the many hearts that beat in one accord, for the skilled hands that do her work, and for the keen minds that remember her ways. We thank her for the many faithful and talented brothers and sisters who prepared a beautiful meal for us, and we thank her for the joy that we share, always in remembrance.” She held up her glass. “T’oldar!”

  The room echoed the toast, breaking into a noisy shuffle as people rose to prepare their plates from the line. In a beautiful flourish, a dozen volunteers swept silver covers from platters, revealing savory dishes piled high and steaming.

  He escorted Chloe to the long table, describing each dish in turn. Some of the dishes were traditional fare from Ascavar, including a large platter of shredded pork and beef that approximated tirioc, while others were from this world, leaning toward Mediterranean fare with seasoned rice, roasted vegetables, and plenty of bread. With plates piled high, they returned to the table, and Chloe stared down in wonder at the colorful display.

  “None of it’s people, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he whispered in her ear. She laughed, and he kissed the curve of her ear. She leaned into him, sending a shiver down his spine. “It’s probably not organic, but all of it’s safe.”

  “I suppose I’ll trust you.” He watched nervously as she took a bite of tirioc. Her jaw dropped. “Oh, my God.”

  “Good?”

  “Holy…” She took another bite and closed her eyes, chewing slowly. “I can’t even begin to describe it.”

  “That is a traditional dish from Ascavar,” he said. “One of my favorites.”

  As they ate, a pair of women joined their table. One had red hair coiled in an elaborate braid, while the other had long, sleek black hair hanging past her shoulders. The dark-haired one looked around the table, smiling brightly. “Asora vel, eia no—”

  “English, please,” Kefir said without missing a beat.

  “Oh, sorry,” she said. “Hi. I’m Alveri. This is my sister, Syora.” She took a sip of her wine. “I recognize you guys,” she said. “Mr. Asharin and…Kelir?”

  “Kefir,” he said politely.

  Her smile broke. “Sorry. And you are?”

  Chloe glanced at him. “Chloe Madsen.”

  At the sound of her decidedly non-dragon name, Alveri’s smile faltered, but she quickly recovered. “Oh. Nice to meet you. Do you have family here?”

  “No,” Chloe said. “I’m, uh…”

  “Tell us about your family, Alveri,” Taegan said smoothly.

  “Well, my father comes from the Stormflight, but he came here about forty years ago and fell in love with my mother, who was a second generation Exile. She told him if he went back, he would have to take her with him, but he said he liked it better here, and they’ve been together ever since.”

  “That’s lovely,” Kefir said. “Are they here?”

  She shook her head. “They live in Asheville. They enjoy the more traditional community. My sister and I came out to Corvallis for college and liked it, though we go home quite often.” Her sister simply ate in silence, nodding her head occasionally, as if she was used to Alveri taking the lead. “And what about you all?”

  As Alveri interrogated Molly about her work at the tattoo shop and her hybrid parentage, Taegan took out his phone and texted under the table to Tellana.

  Come rescue us, please.

  He glanced up at the high table, where Tellana and Malek were eating with their mother and several other guests. Tellana nodded to her mother, then jolted and looked down. She surveyed the room, catching his eye and nodding. She whispered to Izarin, patted her brother’s shoulder, and then got up from the table. Making a wide circle around the room, she grabbed a bottle of wine from the bar then bustled through the crowd. Ever the diplomat, she stopped to greet several other guests along the way before coming to their table. “Chloe, Taegan,” she said, settling into the last empty seat. “And you are?”

  “Alveri Shadahn,” their talkative tablemate said brightly. “We’re new to town.”

  “Then you must be Syora,” Tellana said. The quieter woman perked up and nodded. “Welcome to Portland. Please, tell me about yourselves.”

  Taegan rested his hand on Chloe’s thigh, squeezing gently as he whispered in her ear, “Are you okay?”

  She nodded. He started to pull his hand away, but she pressed it to her, continuing to eat. He resisted the urge to slide his hand up, beneath the thin skirt, and find her warm and waiting. Save room for dessert, indeed. Instead, he calmly ate, listening as Chloe talked to Kefir about the various fitness programs at the gym.

  Eventually, a handful of people got up to dance in the open floor. Though the food was traditional, the music was the generic big-band playlist he’d expect from a wedding. Alveri was still prattling to Tellana, so Taegan whispered in Chloe’s ear, “Dance with me.”

  Her lips pulled into a smile. “Lead the way.”

  This was by far the strangest Thanksgiving of Chloe’s life, though it was rapidly shaping up to be the best, too. The food was delicious, and the company was excellent. She was a fan of anything that ended with dancing with Taegan. He was an excellent dancer, and politely refused the other women who attempted to cut in. Twice, another man approached, but Taegan simply stared back at them, not releasing her.

  “I hope you don’t mind me keeping you to myself,” he said. “If you want—”

  She squeezed his arm. “You don’t have to apologize so much. I don’t want to dance with anyone else.”

  “Good,” he said. He kissed her gently. “Because I actually wasn’t going to let go of you. And I only apologize so much because I still feel like I’m making up for three disastrous dates.”

  She laughed. “I think you’ve made up for that. No more apologizing. After that meal, we’re definitely even.”

  “Only even? Flying didn’t bump me up a little further?”

  “Maybe a little in the positive,” she said. His smile lit up his whole face.

  After a few more songs, Taegan declared it was t
ime for dessert and led her off the dance floor. Carefully balancing a plate with thin slices of three different desserts, Chloe stopped dead in her tracks when she saw the child at the end of the dessert table. “Alyssa?” she asked incredulously.

  Alyssa’a eyes widened as she froze, her hand poised over the napkins. Instead of her school clothes, she wore a pretty, embroidered ensemble of red and orange silk. Her hair was tamed into an ornate braid and twisted around her head. “Miss Madsen? Um…”

  A woman in a dark dress stepped up behind Alyssa, gently touching her shoulder. Her brow furrowed. “Hello, have we met?”

  Chloe’s jaw dropped. “I’m her math teacher. Uh…Chloe Madsen.” Her stomach churned. It was weird enough when she ran into students at the grocery store in her gym clothes.

  The woman’s eyes widened. “Wait, you’re…sorry, I barely recognized you. I had no idea you were one of us. We met at open house, but you didn’t mention anything, so I—”

  “Yeah, it’s a long story,” Chloe said. “I didn’t know.”

  Alyssa’s mother glanced down. “Alyssa, go back to the table and see if Sami wants something for dessert.”

  Alyssa nodded and obeyed without complaint. The quiet obedience was shocking after the way she’d been behaving at school.

  Chloe glanced at Taegan. “Give me a moment, please.” He nodded to her and took her plate back to their table. “This is so strange. Mrs. Kouris, I apologize if I’m being awkward. I just didn’t expect this.”

  “Please, call me Tanya. And it’s fine,” Tanya said. “Gosh, if I’d realized you were one of us, I’d have told you the whole story. Her father is in Seattle, providing extra security at the Ironflight Gate. We may move up there if he has to stay for a while, but we’re hoping it’ll be over soon. He calls every night and tells her his job is safe, but Alyssa is so convinced something awful is going to happen to him. I’ve been trying to reassure her, but when he’s not here, it’s hard.”

  Her throat swelled. She’d been so irritated with the girl, and now everything made more sense. “Well, I don’t know much about this world yet, but maybe I can talk to her or let her hang out once in a while. Maybe during lunch or recess, if she wants to.”