by Tara West
Could Mother have been right? Would all mortal men find Safina repulsive? Mother had said she and Safina were the last two of their kind, that mortal prejudice had destroyed the rest of their race. Safina only hoped the mortals of 1900 would be kinder toward dragon folk. For now that she’d seen and felt true love, she so wanted a lover of her own.
Abby loudly cleared her throat, tapping her foot on the carpet.
Charlotte pulled away from her husband. “My dear Mr. Car…Teddy,” she said to him, “look who has called on me.”
Teddy flushed before abruptly standing, bowing low toward Abby. “Forgive me my manners. How are you feeling, Miss Abigail?”
Her eyes sparkled as she gaped at Teddy. Then she shook her head as if to clear a fog. Pulling back her shoulders, Abby’s face became a mask of stone. “I am well, thank you.”
Safina wasn’t fooled. She saw that Abby pined for Theodore Carter.
He ran a hand through his thick hair, looking from Abby to his wife and back again. “But you were in such a bad way. Forgive me, but we never thought…. I’m sorry. It was only two days ago we saw you lying there in bandages. My sweet wife has been despondent since we visited you in the hospital. She thinks of you as her sister.” He bent over her, encompassing her small hand in his large one. “We both do.”
“A sister,” Abby said through gritted teeth. “How nice.”
Charlotte motioned toward Safina. “Mr. Carter, I’d like you to meet Abby’s friend, Miss Safi….” She shot Abby a questioning glance.
Abby chuckled under her breath but offered her friend no reprieve. Oooh, what game did Abby play with this woman, and why had she thrust Safina squarely in the middle?
Safina squared her shoulders, looking directly at Mr. Carter as if she had no secrets to hide. “Safina MacQuoid.”
She knew not where that surname had come from. Perhaps she was recalling a villager from the old world. She was a Firesblood, not a MacQuoid, but her family name hinted of magic and dragons, something these mortals wouldn’t have understood. Besides, the more she thought it, the more the name seemed to fit. She particularly liked the way it rolled off her tongue. Aye. She’d pretend to be a MacQuoid, if only during her time in Galveston.
Abby abruptly stood, glaring at Mr. Carter. “Well, Charlotte, you clearly need rest, and we must be on our way. I have so much of Galveston to show my dear friend.”
Safina did not like the way Abby emphasized “dear,” as if she suddenly meant something to her. Though Safina knew little of love, it was clear now that Abby desired Theodore and scorned Charlotte for winning his heart. It was also painfully clear Safina had been used as a pawn in Abby’s game. Safina felt as if her heart had been torn from her chest and cast onto those jagged rocks below the pier. She had so been hoping for a friend, but Abby was very much like the cruel mortal children she’d fled centuries ago.
“Yes, of course.” Charlotte made as if to rise, but her husband placed a steadying hand on her shoulder. She clutched his hand looking up at him. They exchanged tender looks before she offered both Abby and Safina warm smiles. “I hope you both call on me again soon.”
“As soon as we are able,” Abby said with a flourish as she grabbed Safina’s elbow, tugging her toward the door. “I cannot guarantee when that will be, as Safi and I are both so busy.”
Chapter Twelve
Safina fought back tears as she marched purposefully across the sandy street, trying her best not to trip over her skirts while dodging horses and people.
“Safi, what’s your hurry?” Abby called at her back.
Safina didn’t bother to turn around. “I must return to my mother,” she said on a growl, as a boy who reeked of fish guts nearly poked her in the eye with the tip of the long pole slung over his shoulder.
Abby latched onto Safina’s wrist with surprising strength, pulling her into an alcove. A door sounded behind them, and a woman and a small child stepped outside holding fragrant loaves of bread. Anger forgotten, Safina’s nostrils flared as she inhaled the alluring scent of freshly baked goods. She looked through the storefront window and saw breads, cakes, and all kinds of delicious pastries. Oh, Almighty Mother, she’d discovered heaven!
“You don’t even know the way,” Abby said.
Safina turned on Abby with a scowl. “Of course I do.” Safina could find her mother even from miles away. ’Twas part of the connection they shared. All she had to do was think of her mother’s flame-red hair, the fire in her amber eyes, or the steady beating of her heart, and instinct would lead her to the dragon queen. Unfortunately, her instinct at the moment was to run inside that bakery and snatch a loaf of bread.
“But I thought you wanted to explore Galveston.” Abby pouted, kicking the sand beneath her boot.
Safina was not fooled. She eyed the girl coolly. “I believe you’ve used me quite enough.” Though her gut practically howled in protest, she brushed past Abby to leave the alcove and its heavenly-scented bread.
“Safi, wait.” Abby’s arm shot out, blocking Safina’s path. “Please,” she begged before turning her gaze to the sandy stones beneath her feet. “Look, I’m sorry.”
Safina crossed her arms, reminding herself not to be beguiled by Abby’s false sincerity. “You treated both Charlotte and me terribly.”
Abby looked up at Safina with pleading eyes. “Again, I’m sorry. I was not as attentive to you as I should have been, but Charlotte, well, she has used me, too, far worse than I’ve ever used anyone.”
Safina wanted to tell Abby she never should have brought her to Charlotte’s in the first place, but then she thought of those pastries and that sweet meat bread, and she very much wanted to go back.
“You look hungry,” Abby said with a sly smile before tugging on her arm. “Come on.” She nodded toward the door nestled beneath the alcove. “Miss Rose makes the best pies in all of Galveston.”
Safina thought about refusing Abby and continuing on her way, but perhaps Abby’s apology was enough, especially if she was willing to feed her pies. Safina remembered pie from her childhood. A villager had made Mother two of them in exchange for healing her sick cow. Safina had devoured an entire warm pie for supper and slept well into the morning with a full and satisfied belly.
A little bell rang above Safina’s head as she followed Abby inside the shop. Safina’s jaw dropped in shock, for before her was a spread fit for a queen. Row upon row of pastries, tarts, and breads sat upon ivory pedestals. A rotund woman with grey hair pinned back in an austere bun gaped as they approached.
“Good day, Miss Rose.” Abby swished her skirt back and forth, biting on her lower lip and batting her lashes as if she were a child.
“Dear Lord, girl.” The woman threw up her hands, her heavy arms flapping with the movement. “I thought you were in the hospital.”
“I was but I’m better now,” Abby said with an indifferent air, as if she hadn’t survived a brush with death through the grace of dragon magic. “This is my friend, Miss Safina MacQuoid.” She leaned into Safina, nudging her in the ribs with a wink. “Her mouth is watering for a taste of your apple pie.”
Miss Rose wiped her hands on a flour-stained apron before smiling warmly at Safina. “Pleased to meet you, Miss MacQuoid.” Her face grew long and her dull brown eyes darkened as she turned to Abby. “Praise God that you are well, Abby, but you should be abed.”
“Oh, I plan on it.” Abby licked her lips, pointing at a pastry on the pedestal in front of her. “As soon as I get some nourishment.”
Miss Rose waddled over to the table, cutting into the pie with a silver, wedge-shaped tool and heaping two slices onto porcelain plates. “Here you go,” she said with a smile as she set the plates in front of Abby, “a slice for you and a slice for your friend. Eat up and get on home to that nana of yours.” Miss Rose wagged a finger at Abby before pointing at the large window behind them. “I’m sure she must be worried sick.”
Abby picked up the plates and spun on her heel, setting them on a small
table by the window. “Thanks, Miss Rose,” she called over her shoulder.
Safina wasted no time in sitting down. Following Abby’s lead, she picked up a silver fork and cut into her pie. She would have to get used to mortals and their strange manners, for she and mother always tore into their food with their bare hands unless they were in dragon form. Then, they used their talons to slice open their prey. But as she took her first bite of apple pie, Safina realized no stag had ever tasted so delectable. The coppery taste of their warm blood paled in comparison to the buttery sweet pastry that melted on her tongue. Oh, she could remain in her mortal form forever if it meant a lifetime of apple pies.
“Mmmm,” she moaned as she shoveled another generous piece into her mouth. “This is divine.”
“Slow down. People are watching.” Abby’s gaze darted to Miss Rose, who was staring at them from beneath her lashes while filling a wicker basket with brown rolls.
Safina nodded, trying her best to chew more slowly, though it was so very hard. She swallowed a lump of food, nearly choking on a large piece of crumbly crust she’d neglected to chew.
Miss Rose clutched a jug and two frosted glasses against her bosom as she approached them, dragging her right leg behind her.
When Miss Rose stood before them, flour floating from her skirt in a soft cloud as she set down the jug with a groan, the strangest thing happened. Safina’s hands began to tingle. It was the oddest feeling, as if a thousand tiny butterflies were trying to escape the tips of her fingers. Safina’s gaze shot to Miss Rose’s lame leg as the sensation in her fingers increased and her head filled with a strange fog. What was happening?
“Milk?” Miss Rose asked.
“Yes, please.” Abby took the empty glasses from her.
Safina stuffed her hands beneath her skirt when Miss Rose leaned forward. Why did she have this sudden urge to lay her hands on the old woman’s leg?
Miss Rose tipped the jug, filling each cup with white, foamy liquid. It took all of Safina’s willpower to focus her concentration on the milk. It looked delightfully rich and creamy, and as Safina licked her lips, the tingling in her hands began to fade.
When Abby handed a glass to her, she opened her mouth to thank them both, but thought better of it when a large crumb dislodged from her tooth. She didn’t want Abby scolding her for her manners. Instead, she took a gulp of milk, relishing the feel of the refreshing liquid as it soothed her parched throat.
Once Miss Rose walked back toward her kitchen, Abby quickly switched plates, giving Safina her pie.
Safina eagerly shoveled it into her mouth. Perhaps she liked Abby after all.
Leaning forward, Abby spoke in a hushed whisper. “Did you really hear the baby’s heart beating?”
Safina winced as she set down her fork with a clank.
Abby leaned even closer, a sly smile tugging at her mouth. “Don’t look so glum. I’m not going to tell. You have your mother’s gift for healing, don’t you?”
Heat raced up Safina’s cheeks as Abby’s hawk-eyed gaze focused on her hands. Safina quickly hid them beneath the table while doing her best not to choke on crumbs. She desperately wanted to take another gulp of milk, but the way Abby stared at her set her on edge. What she should have done was thanked Abby for the fare and excused herself, but she knew that would only have made her look more culpable.
Had she her mother’s gift? After the way her fingers had tingled when she saw Miss Rose limping, she thought perhaps she had inherited the dragon queen’s healing fires. Safina wasn’t so sure she wanted her mother’s ability. With such power came responsibilities, and at the moment, Safina only wanted another slice of pie.
Safina leaned back, doing her best to still her trembling hands. “I’m not sure if I have my mother’s gift. If I do, it’s not as strong,” she said with a shrug while eyeing the frothy milk.
Abby cast another quick glance in Miss Rose’s direction. “Strong enough you can hear an unborn child. Listen to me, Safi,” she said on a hiss. “Do not say those things in public.”
Safina froze. “Will they mark me as a witch?”
“They’ll think you’ve gone mad. I know you’re not crazy, but only because I’ve seen what your mother’s healing powers can do. I mean, just look at me.” Abby pointed at the scar on her head. “I am whole once again.”
“Aye, but your heart still needs mending.” Safina pointed a fork accusingly at Abby. “I thought you said he had a horse face.”
Abby blinked hard, her cheeks coloring. “He does.”
Safina scowled. “I’m not blind, Abby.”
Abby held her breath, screwing up her face so tight, she looked as if she’d swallowed curdled milk.
Safina folded her arms and waited for Abby to crack.
After a few tense moments, Abby sucked in a sharp breath. “I loved him first,” she said on a sob before biting down on her fist.
Abby’s pang of sorrow struck Safina like an arrow to the chest as an overwhelming feeling of remorse and regret washed over her. Almighty Mother! Safina recognized that heart-wrenching keen sorrow. It was the same feeling that made her chest ache and her throat tighten whenever her mother cried in their cocoon.
Safina placed a hand on Abby’s arm. “I’m sorry.”
A fat tear slipped down Abby’s cheek as she sniffled loudly into a delicate, embroidered scrap of cloth. “Teddy was a roomer at Nana’s house before he bought that palace on Broadway. I’d had him to myself a whole week until Charlotte dug her claws into him. She knew I fancied him, but she stole him from me anyway. And she was my very best friend.” Her voice broke, and her eyes filled with fresh tears.
Safina was so choked up with emotion, she could think of no way to respond, but at least now she understood Abby’s behavior back at Charlotte’s.
Abby dabbed her eyes. “When my papa died of yellow fever, they say Mama locked herself in her room and died that very next week. My great-aunt said Mama didn’t even have yellow fever. That she died of a broken heart. I could never understand why my mama would leave me alone in this cruel world, all over a man.” Her voice took on a lifeless tone as she gazed absently out the window. “But on the day Charlotte married Teddy, I just wanted to die, and I’ve wished myself dead every day since.”
Miss Rose made loud grumbling sounds that carried across the bakery. No doubt, she’d been displeased with Abby’s outburst, but Safina didn’t care. She channeled her mother’s commanding air as she shot the woman a silencing look. The old woman paled before returning to her work.
Feeling empowered by her success, Safina straightened her spine, imagining she was in dragon form. “Abby, you didn’t fall off that pier by accident, did you?”
Abby vehemently shook her head. “I-I just don’t think life is worth living if you don’t spend it with the man you love.”
When Abby burst into fresh tears, another wave of sorrow washed over Safina. So this was what losing a man felt like? Perhaps Safina didn’t want to fall in love, not after knowing how much heartache could follow.
“Mother says no man is ever worth dying for,” Safina said in the sternest voice she could manage. “No man.”
Abby gaped at Safina, her eyes twin watery pools. “Then your mama was never in love.”
“Of that, I’m not so sure,” Safina mumbled to herself.
Safina suspected a man had broken the dragon queen’s heart, perhaps even Safina’s sire, whom she had been forbidden to speak of. Most of the other children in their village had had fathers, menfolk who lived with their families. They planted the fields, tended the animals, and disciplined their children, tasks that Safina’s mother managed without help. Safina knew not why she had no father, but she was determined to find out the truth once and for all.
* * *
Safina lamented that her belly wasn’t quite full enough as they set off from the bakery. How she’d have loved to take a loaf of bread or perhaps a whole pie, but Miss Rose had not looked too pleased with either of them by the time Saf
ina polished off their plates. Safina recognized that look of suspicion in the old woman’s eyes. She’d seen it before in the eyes of the townspeople just before she and Mother would be forced to move to a new village. She feared they would have to move again if the people of Galveston showed them hostility. She did not want to go back to her previous life, always running, never staying in one place long enough to make friends, not that the village children had ever cared for her friendship. Safina still wasn’t sure about Abby’s loyalty, but it made no difference. She liked this town with its salty air, street cars, and food smells. She could spend an entire fortnight walking up and down the street, taking in all the sights and scents. She certainly had no desire to move just yet.
Even though the sand wedged between her toes was rubbing holes in her feet, Safina walked with a bit of spring in her step, inhaling the brisk air. “Where are we going to now?”
Abby looped her arm through Safina’s and flashed a sly grin. “Someplace special. I promise you’ll love it.”
After they briskly walked until Safina thought her feet would fall off, they arrived at their destination.
When Safina saw the waves hitting the shore and people frolicking in the surf, her heart sank. “A beach?” This was the special place? She only hoped Abby did not expect her to go into the water. Five hundred years was quite enough time to spend in the ocean.
“Isn’t it marvelous?” Abby twirled and held out her hands. “The sand is solid.” She plopped on the ground and unlaced her boots. “You can take off your shoes.”
Safina sat beside her, refusing to undo her laces. Moses had laced them for her that morning, and she did not trust herself to remember how to tie them again.
Abby wiggled her toes, laughing as she slid them across the sand. She frowned at Safina’s shoe-clad feet but said nothing as she stood and picked up her shoes by the laces. Safina stood, too, wondering what had compelled her to sit in the first place. As hard as the sand was, it somehow managed to cling to her dress.