by Ann Gimpel
I joined Konstantin on the bank. Whatever he’d eaten was gone. I followed his telepathy instructions, held him in my mind, and asked, “How do I shift back? Will it hurt as much? And what about my body? Will it be as trashed as it was when I left it behind?”
I should have been terrified. The specter of enduring even a fraction of the pain it had cost me to join with the dragon was daunting enough to make me want to stay a dragon. Forever.
Except I didn’t want to. Not really.
I had a hell of a lot to learn, and it would be easier to absorb lessons in my human form. Assuming I still had one that wasn’t a candidate for a level one trauma center.
“I can teach you everything you need to know.” My dragon’s words held a crafty undernote, but they were alluring, as if she’d seeded them with magic.
“I appreciate the offer, but I’ve spent my life as human. You’ll still be within me when I am, right?”
I was banking things would work similarly to how they did with Konstantin and Katya.
“Yes,” the dragon grumbled, “but it’s not the same. Our dragon form is superior in every way. You should prefer it.”
I considered pointing out Konstantin didn’t, but it didn’t seem very tactful.
Light flashed and flickered around Konstantin as he traded wings and scales for a chest and back and arms and legs. He made it look easy, but he’d started out bonded to his dragon.
Obviously, my process was different.
He stood before me and bowed his head respectfully. “I wish to thank your dragon side from the depths of my soul. Your shift was long and hard, and I feared you would die, yet she stuck with you.”
Steam puffed from my mouth, courtesy of my dragon, and billowed around Konstantin. I supposed it was her way of accepting his compliment.
He nodded. “To answer your questions, it should not hurt as much to shift back, and I am hoping your body will have repaired itself.”
“What if it hasn’t?” My question must have come out garbled because he hesitated before answering.
“I will employ magic to heal what I can. Once you are stable, we will return to my home, where Katya will add to my efforts. She has healing ability.”
“I’m ready. I guess.” A familiar tightening sensation clutched at my gut. I was scared, but I had every right to be. Something about the dragon’s form muted my terror, but didn’t obliterate it.
The shining nimbus around Konstantin had faded, and he stood facing me. “Hold your human form in your mind, the way it was before your shift. Imagine sliding out of the dragon and into it.”
I stared at him, still getting used to the layered vision that was apparently part and parcel of being a dragon. His instructions had been simple, yet it couldn’t be that easy. Changing into the dragon had been absolute hell.
“Erin.” His tone was sharp. “You cannot hesitate, or you’ll end up stuck in the limbo-land that was almost your undoing. Believe you can shift. Visualize it, and let it happen.”
I nodded while bits of residual ash flew from my mouth. The dragon wasn’t fighting me. I sensed I was back in the driver’s seat of our operation. Maybe I was more motivated this time because I wanted my familiar form with an almost physical ache. Not that I wasn’t enamored by my dragon and flying, but I needed time to put everything into perspective.
I took a deep breath, blew out smoke, and forced a visual of how I saw myself. Tall. Too thin. Messy. No makeup. On a good day, I remembered to brush my hair. One of the best things about being a surgeon was I lived in scrubs. No need for fancy clothes, a good thing since I didn’t own many.
Once I had a solid representation of me, I dove headlong into it. Something like a light beam flickered around me, but the sensation was mild compared with before. Stretching rather than ripping. Bending rather than breaking. I ended up in a heap of tangled limbs sprawled across the cold ground in the center of a glowing, golden ball.
I’d been toasty warm as a dragon, but I started to shiver almost immediately. Konstantin knelt next to me. I felt his intense gaze raking my body from head to toe, but there was nothing sexual in his appraisal. He was searching for injured places.
I should be doing the same, but I felt stunned, as if someone had clubbed me and I was groggy.
“I don’t see any damage,” he said. “Can you sit?”
I started to protest that many things weren’t immediately apparent to a visual inspection, but kept the words within my throat. I didn’t hurt anywhere. My limbs weren’t bent at unnatural angles. When I told my body to roll off my belly and into a cross-legged sit, it obeyed me.
I wrapped my arms around my legs, shivering in earnest now. “How is this possible? When I left my body behind, it wasn’t far from being clinically dead.”
“Magic healed it while you were within the dragon.”
It was an explanation, but not one that made sense to me. “All those books and scrolls. Do they have information that will help me make sense of all this?”
He nodded. “Yes, but me teaching you will be faster.”
I started to tell him he didn’t have to do that, but it wasn’t true. I got gingerly to my feet, still incredulous I wasn’t mortally injured. “Where did I leave my clothes?” Something occurred to me. “You don’t seem cold. Why am I?”
He smiled, and it lit his face from within, making him a delight for my eyes. “I’m using magic to warm myself.”
“Mmph. I have a lot to learn.”
“Indeed, you do. Shall we practice using magic to locate your garments?”
I had about as much energy as a starving rat, but rather than whining, I said, “Sure.”
“Most magic begins with visualizing what you want. Hold a mental picture of your clothing and tell me what happens.”
I thought about how I’d stacked my discarded garments. “Okay. I see them, but nothing changed.”
“Try harder.”
I was so cold, it was tough to do anything but curl into a ball to conserve what little body heat I had left. “I don’t have much harder left to try with.”
He moved behind me and wrapped his arms around my shoulders. Something like a glittery shock jolted through me, mildly uncomfortable, but the feeling I’d had where I was about to pitch face forward into the dirt departed fast.
“What did you do?”
“Infused some of my magic into you.” He stepped away and faced me, his expression stern. Nothing soft or compassionate was left when he repeated, “Try harder.”
I ground my teeth and made a grab for the visual I’d created of my garments. Prickly heat stabbed me, but a boot flew through the air. I had to feint to one side so it wouldn’t hit me in the head. The second boot followed, and then the rest of my discarded clothing items. As if drawn by a magnet, they reformed into a stack where I’d been standing.
As I stood over them dressing as fast as I could, Konstantin started to laugh. “What the fuck is so funny?” I managed through chattering teeth.
“Nothing,” he chortled, followed by, “Everything. I’ve never taught anyone how to use their power before. It will be a learning curve for us both. I’m not laughing at you.”
“The hell you’re not,” I muttered and squatted in the dirt to get my socks and boots on.
He waited until I was back on my feet and asked. “Ready to go home?”
“Not until you tell me what was so funny.” I folded my arms beneath my breasts, grateful for my insulated suit and all the layers beneath.
“After I mixed my magic with yours, it made it easier for me to see what you were doing. I knew straight away you’d used way too much air in your drawing spell, but I wanted to see what would happen. Everyone’s use of power is different. All dragons have an affinity for fire, but your second element seems to be air.”
I stared at him. He may as well be speaking Swahili. He tried to wrap his arms around me, but I evaded his grip.
“You don’t teach anyone by laughing at their first attempts.” I tr
ied for dignity, but it wasn’t easy because I remembered patronizing bastard surgeons mocking me early in my training.
They’d made me a better doctor, for all their denigrating comments.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “This is as new for me as it is for you.”
“Never mind.” I flapped both hands, feeling like an ungrateful twit because I’d lodged any complaints at all. “Walk me through how you’ll get us out of here.”
“Are you sure you’re not too tired?”
The solicitousness in his tone almost undid me, but this wasn’t a time to play the helpless female card and fall into his arms. Not that he wouldn’t have taken care of me, but I was used to taking care of myself.
No reason to stop now.
“Nope. I really want to know.”
Konstantin nodded. “All right. Teleport spells require equal amounts of fire and air with a small amount of earth mixed in. The earth element acts as a lodestone and will draw us toward our destination…”
Chapter 15
Konstantin had assumed Erin would shed her clothing and they’d fall into one another’s arms as soon as they returned to his lair beneath Earth’s southern pole. Nothing could have been further from the truth. Not only was Erin still fully dressed—minus her outer suit—she’d insisted they take up residence in the library, and she’d been peppering him with questions for hours, taking notes with a quill pen and an ink mixture he’d come up with that was more or less indelible.
Periodically, she’d stop to practice something they’d been talking about. When her efforts blew up in her face, she tried again until she got it right.
Magic hung in the air. Power imbued with her particular scent. Wildflowers and herbs and hot clay. He’d sniffed the air again and again, hoping for the cinnamon-vanilla mix that had filled his nostrils when she’d been pressed against his body, lust streaming from her in thick waves.
But it hadn’t been there. He’d begun their library session with his cock at half mast, hopeful for encouragement. It had subsided long since. Magic had a dampening effect on lust. Unless he was a dragon. Then it fanned the flames to an inferno.
He stole a glance at Erin with her head bent over yet one more scroll. A thick curl was threaded around one hand as she pushed hair out of her eyes. It was as if she’d traded her interest in him for a crash course in magic. A feral, possessive part of him—the dragon nature—lodged protest after protest.
If he listened to his dragon, he should push the scrolls to one side and strip off her clothes. Study could wait; dragons came by magic intuitively. They had no use for books. If they didn’t know something, they asked another dragon. Preferably an older one.
He tried to explain to the dragon that he respected Erin’s efforts to embrace something that was foreign to her. He’d be stupid to sabotage her hard work. She’d told her dragon she’d do whatever it took to build her skillset.
Clearly, she was a woman of her word.
Making love with him could wait. Sooner or later, she’d need a respite from elements and minerals and spells. When it happened, he’d be there.
A welter of open books and scrolls scattered around where she’d set herself up in a corner of the room. One part of the transformation that had been handy was she was able to read the various arcane languages in his source materials. She’d been delighted with that particular newfound talent.
Katya and Johan were nowhere to be found. He wasn’t worried about them. Not yet, but if they didn’t return in a day or so, he’d go looking for them. Probably with Erin in tow. She was as determined as anyone he’d ever seen about absorbing as much magical knowledge as she could.
He brought food down twice. And drink. Despite the refreshments, she was fading. Sometimes her eyes fluttered shut before she forced them open. Finally, after she’d taken a five-minute catnap, he scooted next to her on the floor and splayed a hand over the scroll in front of her. One end was held down with a thick, imposing tome with runes running up and down its ancient leather binding. She had her foot over the other side and was deep into a diagram. As he leaned closer, he saw it had to do with transmutation of matter. Handy for teleporting both with and without your body.
He smiled. He hadn’t thought about astral projection in years.
Erin pushed at his hand. He didn’t move it.
“What?” She finally focused on him. An ink smear ran down one cheek, but her blue eyes glowed with fierce intelligence.
“You don’t have to learn everything at once.”
“Maybe not.” She shrugged. “But I love stretching my mind. There’s an entire universe I had no idea even existed, and it’s endless. Besides”—her brow creased into vertical lines above her nose—“those serpents aren’t going to move any slower because I’m a neophyte. I have to immerse myself, so I have a prayer of being more than deadweight next time there’s a battle.”
His heart swelled with tenderness. “I’m proud of you, but it’s time for a break. Get up. Stretch your legs. Maybe we could take a dip in the lake. And you need to practice your transitions. We could do it down here, but outside is easier.”
She winced. “Um, yeah. The one to dragon was so rocky, I’m almost afraid to try it again.”
“Speaking of dragons, what’s yours been doing?”
“Reading over my shoulder. Or under it, or through it. Regardless. She’s right here.” Erin tapped her breastbone. “I feel her inside me. It should be weird, but it feels right somehow, like it’s precisely where she’s supposed to be.”
Relief swept through him, but he did his best to hide it. It wouldn’t do to let her dragon know he’d been worried about it running roughshod over her. Dragons could be petulant and headstrong and very into doing things their way. When you were born bonded, your dragon was forced to watch over you as you grew. They developed a fondness for the child who would grow into their mate, and it had a modulating effect on their high-handedness.
He flowed to his feet and offered her a hand. “Come on. I think better after I get a bit of distance from something.”
She took his hand and let him help her. “Research bears out that observation.” She scanned the room, noting the empty dishes. “I don’t even remember eating. Thanks for taking care of us.”
“You needn’t thank me.”
Her head snapped up. “Cripes. Where’s Johan? And your sister?”
“I’m not sure, but it’s not time to worry yet. Not quite.”
“Were they here when we got back? I was in such a godawful hurry to dig in and start learning, I didn’t give them a thought.” She made a face. “Doesn’t make me much of a friend, does it?”
“You’re fine. Your plate is pretty full.” He aimed for support but didn’t want to underplay his concern about Katya’s extended absence. It wasn’t like her. Wherever she was, Johan was almost certainly with her.
“A dip in the lake would be refreshing.” She raked her unruly hair back from her face. “Do you have any biodegradable soap?”
“I’m not sure what that is, so no.”
He wrapped them in magic and moved them to the shore of the nearest of the string of lakes. She wanted to know exactly what he was doing, so he outlined the steps as he put them into action.
“Teleport spells will be slightly different for you,” he continued, “because your magic isn’t the same as mine.”
“How can you know? I’m still at the barest beginnings of figuring out which pigeonhole I fit into per the lore I’m reading.”
“Because I understand magic, and I sense what you have to work with.” He furled his brows. “Are you going into the water fully clothed?”
She laughed, sounding lighter than she had in a long time. “I guess not. I got so wrapped up in figuring things out, I feel like I have one foot in fairyland.”
Her words made him laugh. “Nope. Try both feet.”
She sat and levered one boot off, followed by the other. Her trousers followed, and then the layers beneath and her stocki
ngs. Both pairs. Slowly, her body came into view. Long red scars, fading to pink, ran the length of both legs and along her arms. More markings traveled across her ribs and back.
Erin trailed a fingertip over one of the deeper ones on her right leg. “All those injuries were real. And they did, miraculously, heal.”
“Did you think you’d imagined them?” He waited for her at the water’s edge but turned away so his erection wouldn’t be so obvious. It was a spontaneous reaction to her beauty and his desire for her. He hoped she’d welcome it—and him—but he wasn’t certain.
She’d been more distant since they returned. Perhaps she’d considered what he said about dragon matings being permanent and wasn’t quite ready to tie herself to him forever. Fire burned its way up his chest and out his mouth. His dragon didn’t care for his interpretation.
Erin was their mate. Any self-respecting dragon would jump in with sparks and fire and ensure she didn’t get away.
Her energy drew near as she walked to the shoreline. “I’m not sure what I thought,” she replied in answer to his question. “Part of me knew I was near death. Another part kept coming up with excuses like hallucinations.” She waltzed past him, hips swinging jauntily.
He’d been right about her ass. High and round and perfect, it begged to be grabbed. His cock grew harder still, and his fingers itched to settle on her breasts or her ass or anywhere on her enticing body.
“Coming?” she called over one shoulder. “This was your idea.” The water had reached her waist, and she dove beneath its surface.
He plunged forward until the lake was deep enough for swimming and joined her stroking through the still waters. Because they were so far beneath Earth’s surface, the lake rarely sported so much as a ripple. No wind down here, and the proximity to the Earth’s crust kept the temperature reasonably warm.
She twisted in the water, splashed him, and said, “Bet you can’t catch me.”
“You’re on!”
Erin led him a merry chase, above and below the surface as she ducked and wove and evaded his efforts to grab her. He surfaced to laugh. She must have been a fish in an earlier life.