Dragons and Magic

by Blair Babylon

  “Ah! There. That’s what I was looking for. Are dukedoms inherited the same way?”

  “No. So far, at least in my generation, dukedoms and earldoms are still absolute primogeniture. Oldest kid gets it, whatever gender they are. It makes it easy that mated pairs rarely have more than one child.”

  “That’s so sad,” she said.

  Math shrugged. “It’s just the way it happens, I guess.”

  “You should have told me you were ‘Your Grace Mathonwy, the Duke Draco’ before we walked into the palace. I almost corrected that guy who greeted us. ‘Oh, no. He’s not a duke. You must be mistaken.’ Holy magic, I would have looked like an idiot.”

  “It didn’t come up,” Math said, smiling gently.

  “It should have. It totally should have come up,” Bethany fretted.

  “Did you like my house?”

  “Well, yeah! It’s the perfect blend of a cozy residential area and a fantastic area for dinner parties. I didn’t know I’d have to deal with a staff, however. But it is nice not to have to worry about cleaning all seven bathrooms.”

  Math laughed. “You’ll like King Llywelyn. He’s a nice guy.”

  “Do you have any hot, young royals like Prince Harry?”

  Math gestured to the older man in the painting. “He thinks he is.”

  “Maybe we should invite him to our wedding.”

  Math raised an eyebrow at her. “Dragons don’t have weddings. It’s one of the benefits of magical matings. No ceremony planning.”

  “Oh, wait right there, Your Grace Duke Draco. Witches do have weddings. We have huge handfastings and invite every person you’re related to or ever met, usually in a barn with animals and dangling fairy lights. My parents will kill me if I don’t throw a wedding for them.”

  “But dragons marry witches all the time, and no one has weddings.”

  Bethany went on, “Not to mention Willow and Ember. They will definitely kill me if I don’t have a handfasting. We all promised each other when we were ten that we’d all be co-maids-of-honor at each other’s weddings, though we really wanted to have a triple wedding for the three of us. We pinky swore. I have to throw a handfasting so they can be my maids of honor.”

  The door beside them opened.

  A slim woman emerged. “His Majesty will see you now, Your Graces.”

  “Come on,” Math said. “We can hash this out later.”

  “We will have a proper handfasting,” Bethany grumbled as they walked inside the king’s office. “I swear by all the goddesses, we will.”

  Inside, King Llywelyn, the man from the painting but slightly older, was sitting behind a giant desk. California sunlight streamed in the wide windows, and the surf crashed on the rocks below. He was a good-looking older man with a full head of silver hair and craggy cheekbones.

  The king poured coffee from a silver service into china cups for them. “Good morning, Duke Draco. And this is Bethany Aura, the new Duchess Draco, I presume?”

  “Pleased to meet you,” Bethany said, surreptitiously swiping some dust off the edge of the king’s desk as she curtsied. She was conscious of her dragon-bait boots as she sat, so she crossed her ankles to not draw too much more attention to them.

  “And you as well. I trust you’re being properly introduced to dragon society?”

  “Math’s friends Arawn and Cai have come over a few times. We’re throwing a big party next week.”

  “I’m sure everyone will attend any party that Mathonwy throws,” King Llywelyn said. “Has he mentioned that he’s quite popular?”

  She side-eyed Math. “I think that must have slipped his mind, too.”

  “Oh, yes. He’s a member of a dozen committees and boards, and the chair of a fair number of them. Everyone wants to know him better or desires an introduction. He’s a social node, one of those people who knows everyone, and everyone likes them.”

  Bethany slipped her hand into Math’s. “Yeah, I can see that.”

  King Llywelyn smiled at them, his fingers interlaced and resting on his belly. “Your handfasting is going to be enormous, perhaps a thousand guests. Three-quarters of the dragon clan will clamor for invitations, plus your side, of course.”

  Math raised his eyebrows. He insisted, “Dragons don’t have weddings.”

  Bethany grinned. “We’ll have it as soon as I can plan it.”

  Llywelyn grinned. “Ah, excellent. When the Queen and I had our handfasting—”

  Math interrupted, “But dragons don’t do ceremonies. We’re too solitary for such large gatherings. Mating is a private and personal ritual. Surely, you didn’t have a wedding and all that.”

  “I’m a mage,” King Llywelyn said. “Of course, we had a handfasting. Witches always have handfastings to celebrate a marriage. It’ll be in your hometown, Bethany?”

  “Of course,” Bethany said. “I have lots of relatives and friends who would hunt me down and burn me at the stake, otherwise.”

  “Can I only suggest that it’s in two-months time? We need Mathonwy here to finish getting the Dragon’s Den Casino ready to open.”

  “I figure that will be just enough time to plan the wedding,” Bethany said.

  The king flicked his fingers in the air. “And by then, you should know if you and Mathonwy will be the next king and queen, too.”

  Math choked on his coffee and set it aside, coughing.

  Bethany gasped, “I beg your pardon?”

  The king smiled at her over his coffee cup. “Didn’t Mathonwy mention that last month, the Dragon Scepter nearly chose him as the next King of New Wales?”

  She turned toward Math. “No.”

  Math shifted his weight away from her and stared out the window at the sunshine.

  The king said, “Why, yes. The Dragon Scepter illuminated for three dragons but did not complete the selection process: Arawn, the Duke of Tiamat; Cai, the Duke of Wyvern; and your mate, here.”

  Bethany turned to Math, but he was staring out of the window and wouldn’t look at her. “Dude. Seriously.”

  Math looked back sharply at the king. “I thought there were others, too.”

  “Not particularly. You three all had a strong showing, and everyone else had a little fizzly spark or two, at best. I checked the scepter for malfunctions three times during the ceremony. It was astonishing that there are only three front-runners after only one selection process. My year, eight couples gained a response from the scepter during the first round. Didn’t you watch the rest of the ceremony?”

  Math flipped his fingers in the air. “I was talking to people.”

  The king smiled. “Of course, you were.”

  Yes, Math was popular, Bethany surmised.

  Math continued, “People needed to plan committee meetings and discuss board business. My calendar is tight.”

  “Yes,” the king said, his smile pointedly serious, “I can see where you would be too busy running the kingdom to notice whether or not you were made the king.”

  “I don’t run the kingdom,” Math said, frowning. “I just happen to be on a few committees and boards.”

  “And the board of Dragons Den, Inc.”

  “I’m not on the corporate board,” Math told him.

  “Oops,” the king said, still grinning. “I thought they had already notified you of the position. Finding the embezzler and securing the first round of financing from the angel investors impressed the board. They plan to offer you a seat. You must have been too busy with your new duchess to receive them and allow them to make the offer.”

  Math frowned harder. “Gareth Terrwyn,” the CEO of Dragons Den, Inc., “did text yesterday to arrange an urgent meeting.”

  “Well, let me be the first to congratulate you, then, on your promotion as well as your mating. I assume you’ll be heading back to Las Vegas soon to oversee the soft opening of the casino, which happens in one month.”

  “Um—” Math dithered.

  Bethany cleared her throat. They had discussed this, extensively.<
br />
  The king raised one white eyebrow. “Is there a problem?”

  Bethany cleared her throat again, so hard that she might have been preparing to hawk up a loogie.

  Math looked at the floor. “Duchess Draco and I have planned a honeymoon to Wales and Europe. We will be traveling for at least a month, perhaps two.”

  Bethany sat back in her chair, satisfied. She would have a wedding eventually, but she was not giving up her honeymoon.

  “We’ll have to find someone else to oversee the casino, then.”

  Math said, “Might I suggest Arawn Tiamat? The whole place should have a thorough security analysis before the soft open. Tiamat would be excellent in that role.”

  King Llywelyn nodded. “And we’ll have to retain a Master Mage to take care of those sea serpents in the fountain.”

  Bethany gulped, mortified.

  “I asked around my old coven,” the king continued, “but no one seems to have any experience with dispelling legendary-class apparitions. It’s very rare that anyone is ever able to summon them. It is Master-Mage-level magic.” He smiled at her. “Very impressive.”

  Bethany needed to speak up for her serpents. It was her duty as the idiot who had summoned them. “King Llywelyn, Your Majesty? Permission to speak?”

  Math snorted a little.

  The king chuckled kindly. “You don’t have to observe formal protocol during an office meeting.”

  “Okay, well, the sea monster apparitions were looking a little sickly. I don’t think they’re supposed to eat algae. I think they need some vitamins and maybe some fish.”

  The king nodded. “Noted. I don’t know who could look at it.”

  “A friend of mine, Willow Sage, is really good with healing potions and with animals.” Healing potions were one of few things Willow could reliably produce, and Willow needed a job. She hadn’t found one after she’d gotten home from her Parisian remedial potions course. “She could take care of the sea serpents, maybe whip up some vitamin potions and throw in some fish, until you can find someone who can dispel them.”

  King Llywelyn nodded. “Excellent. Have her report to the HR office tomorrow. I’ll alert them that she’s coming in to be the official Serpent Wrangler until we can figure out what to do with them. And now, if you don’t mind,” he checked his phone screen, “my next appointment is waiting outside.”

  Bethany stood. “Absolutely lovely to meet you, King Llywelyn. I’ve learned a lot today.”

  The king chuckled. “Yes, well, you’ll get used to it. Everyone does.”

  Old Flames

  WILLOW Sage sat in the HR office, doing her best not to stare at Smedley O’Tentacle, the HR Director of Dragon’s Den Casino, but he was making it very difficult.

  Every time O’Tentacle picked up a pen, his fingers became sinuous and grew suckers on the pads.

  She’d never met a squid shifter before, and when his hand squished moistly over the computer mouse, she resolved not to look away from his eyes, which were almost colorless, but for the dark, horizontal bar of a pupil across the center.

  O’Tentacle frowned at her, his lips pursing out and looking decidedly beaky. “Is something the matter?”

  “Oh, no! Not at all,” Willow stammered, trying not to sound stupid. “Everything’s fine.”

  Smedley squinted at her but went back to typing her information into the computer. “Hiring someone without a thorough vetting process is very irregular. Usually, we post a job opening, collect applications, and then rank resumes using a rubric. I’ve never even heard of the,” he squinted at the paper, too, “Sorcière Université Potions Program.”

  It was the Sorcière Université Remedial Potions Program, but Willow wasn’t going to admit that. “The program is very selective.”

  Selective, in that they only admitted the most hopeless potion witches who couldn’t cook to save their lives.

  Which she still was.

  Willow was the culinary school dropout who was still desperately trying to make buttercream roses even though her cakes always fell and her racks of lamb were always burnt to charcoal.

  But she was going to keep trying.

  And she was good with animals.

  Which was why her bestie Bethany Aura had gotten her this job at the Dragon’s Den Casino as a professional sea monster zookeeper.

  That, and because Willow was running out of money. She hadn’t been able to find a job. If she didn’t get something by the end of the week, she was going to have to move back in with her parents in Desert Stars, a town that lay an hour outside of Las Vegas.

  This short-term cash infusion would keep her afloat for another month or two.

  Evidently, the apparitional sea serpents were looking sickly, and they thought a potions witch might be able to whip up a vitamin cocktail to make their scales glossy and their tentacles more . . . tentacly.

  Like Smedley’s undulating fingers.

  Willow snapped her attention back up to his face.

  Smedley licked his lips. His tongue had suckers on it, too. “This is most irregular.”

  “I’m very sorry about that, but Bethany did say that they were in need of urgent care. The CFO, Mr. Draco, approved hiring me. At the very least, I can fill in and help the serpents until you can get a proper marine magicobiologist. You don’t want a half-dozen deceased sea serpents bloating and stinking up the casino fountain like six tons of dead fish, rotting in the sun.”

  Smedley’s upper lip curled in what must be a squidly snarl. “Fine. But I’m marking this as a temporary position. The casino’s Head of Security, Mr. Arawn Tiamat, is on his way down. I must warn you, he’s one of the most by-the-book dragon shifters I’ve ever met. Mr. Tiamat will never approve your hire, even if Mr. Draco did.”

  “We’ll leave it up to Mr. Tiamat, then,” she said.

  The office door opened, and a man walked in. He didn’t notice Willow sitting in the applicant’s chair but rounded on Smedley, saying in a low, bass voice, “Those sea serpents look ghastly. When will the potions witch get here?”

  The man was very tall, blond, and excessively broad-shouldered under that expensive suit he wore. He was movie-star handsome with cut cheekbones and a square jaw.

  She knew he would have amazing blue eyes when he turned to look at her.

  He also had a dragon tattoo on his ribs that Willow had licked many times.

  Her breath rushed into her.

  She had dated Aaron Timmit for just over a year and lived with him for the last six months of their relationship, before he had come back to their apartment one day and quietly told her that he was moving to Los Angeles and wouldn’t be able to be with her anymore.

  Tears pricked her eyes.

  She blinked hard before Aaron saw them.

  Smedley gestured toward Willow. “She’s right behind you, Mr. Tiamat. And I must protest the highly irregular hiring practices that have been instituted in the last month.”

  She didn’t know why Smedley was mispronouncing Aaron Timmit’s name so badly.

  Aaron turned, his slim hips twisting just a fraction before his shoulders and then his head.

  When he was facing her, his expression didn’t change, though he blinked his bright blue eyes. “Willow?”

  Her heart lurched behind her sternum, then sprinted. “Um, Aaron? What are you doing here?”

  He said, “I’m the Head of Security for the Dragon’s Den Casino. Man-eating sea monsters fall under my jurisdiction, even sick ones.”

  “But Mr. O’Tentacle said that a dragon shifter was in charge of that.”

  Aaron’s expression fell, and he placed his hands in his pants pockets. “About that—”

  Behind Aaron, Smedley said, “I must protest. The last time we hired someone without due process, we ended up with glitterbombs detonating in the penthouses.”

  Aaron turned his head toward Smedley, but his bright blue eyes didn’t leave Willow’s. “I thought we were hiring a witch.”

  Smedley said, “Ms. Willo
w Sage says she’s a witch. Her resumé says she’s a witch.”

  Willow straightened her spine. She wouldn’t cry. Surely in the four months since they’d broken up, she had gained enough perspective and composure that she could hold herself together for a few minutes in the HR office. “Yes, Aaron. I’m a witch.”

  One of his light brown eyebrows lowered, but his perfect face didn’t otherwise move. “You never told me you were a supernatural.”

  “I’m a witch. I’ve always been a witch. And evidently, you’re a dragon and your name is Arawn Tiamat, not Aaron Timmit. So, I guess there’s a lot we both forgot to mention about ourselves.”

  What happens when old flames

  Arawn Tiamat and Willow Sage

  discover they have to work together?

  Their second chance at love gets messy

  in the new PNR from Poppy Wolfe and Blair Babylon,

  Dragons & Mayhem!

  ~~~~~

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