Dragon Soul

by Katie MacAlister

  That sounded like a maiden name to me. “Would you have a reservation for a Mrs. Aset?” I asked, uncovering the mouthpiece.

  “Madame Aset? But of course.” The man sounded so matter-of-fact it confused me even more. “We have the reservation for Madame Aset and companion in Grand Suite B. It is our finest accommodation, you understand.”

  “Awesome. I’ll have her to the ship by seven… wait, did you say Mrs. Aset and companion? What companion?”

  “We were not informed of the individual’s name. Our understanding was that information would be provided upon boarding. Is there anything else I can help with?”

  “No, thank you, that will be all.” I hung up and looked at Mrs. P, who was now eying a woven cotton wall covering with a speculative eye. “Who is going on the cruise with you?”

  She gave me a pitying look. “Has the prospect of lunch with your man caused you to lose your wits? You are my guide.”

  “I’m not a guide,” I said, startled. “I’m a… well, helper is as good a description as anything. I’m just here to get you to your ship. I’m not going with you on it.”

  Her eyes narrowed on me. “You must help me across the Duat to my beau. You agreed to do so. You cannot back out now—I can’t face the challenges by myself. I am a priestess of Heka, not Isis herself.”

  I sighed, suddenly wishing like the dickens that I’d never answered the door to Jian’s cousin. What was his name?

  “Mrs. P,” I said gently but firmly. “I realize that you have a really splendid imagination, and that you were absolutely right about Jian being a dragon, but just because you were right about that doesn’t mean that everything you think is real is actually so. You’re just a little confused. Duat is the name of the cruise line—it’s not a real place.”

  She shook her head sadly at me.

  “And Isis is… was… an Egyptian goddess. I think. I’m not very hip on Egyptian myths and lore. So while I agree that you are not Isis, I’m not sure where this idea came from that I’m your guide.”

  A knock sounded at the door. I got up to answer it.

  “You must guide me,” she insisted. “You are a dragon’s mate. Only your kind can defeat the challenges that will face us.”

  “Hi,” I said to Rowan when he stepped into the room. I was sorry to see that he’d not only combed his hair but also shaved. So much for that tempting stubble. “I hope you’re hungry. I’m famished, and I think Mrs. P could use a little food in her stomach. I suspect her blood sugar is low and it’s making her a bit… scattered.”

  He raised his eyebrows and took the chair I gestured at, while I went to fetch the room service menus. “The trip from Munich seemed fairly uneventful.”

  “Oh, it was, and Mrs. P dozed most of the way, but now she’s insisting that I’m supposed to go on the cruise with her, and I’m having a hard time making her understand that I’m just a helper monkey, and not a tour guide. Now, Mrs. P, do you feel like something light or a more substantial meal? I’m sure there will be snackies on the boat when you get there, but since that’s a good four hours away, I’d suggest getting a full meal now. It looks like they have chicken thighs stuffed with rice and pine nuts, or a tenderloin with grilled veggies that you might like. And some lamb dishes, but I personally won’t eat a wee little baby lamb. Not that it matters to you, but still.”

  “Tell the gel she must come with me,” Mrs. P demanded of Rowan. “I cannot make the trip alone. It is too dangerous. Too many people want my offering.”

  Rowan looked startled.

  I asked, “Your what now?”

  “My offering.” She gestured toward her chest. “It is for my beau. Without it, we can’t be together. And I can’t give it to him without a guide taking me to him.”

  “Mrs. P…” I sat silent for a moment, helpless against her fantasies. Clearly some sort of dementia was beginning to grip her, despite the fact that she’d been unusually prescient about my true origins. But this was just beyond me. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “She can’t go with you,” Rowan said quickly, and gave a little embarrassed cough. “That is, I got the last available cabin. There won’t be any more available. And I would be more than happy to guide you.”

  I looked at him with wonder and a wee bit of suspicion. Why was he being so helpful all of a sudden? And did he just try to get me out of the picture?

  Hurt pierced deep and hot, but I pushed that aside to try to think rationally about the situation. Did Rowan’s sudden offer have something to do with this ring he was so interested in? Surely he couldn’t have nefarious plans for it, not after we’d spent such a wonderful time together. And he seemed as much into me as I was in him…

  Slowly, my gaze dropped, a sick feeling in my stomach.

  Had he used me just to get in a position where he could rob Mrs. P?

  Eight

  Rowan was panicked, good and simple. Here he thought he’d been one step ahead of Sophea by booking the last available cabin on the ship, and now Mrs. P was demanding that Sophea be included in the trip.

  Dammit, he had had a hard enough time sneaking into Mrs. P’s room without having to contend with a watchful Sophea, not to mention one who, if she learned the truth about the ring, might very well take it for her own purposes.

  His brain came to a screeching halt at that idea. As if Sophea—warm, wonderful, giving Sophea—would do something so heinous. He might have had suspicions of her at first, but not now, not when he knew just what a wonderful woman she was.

  One who made him hard just thinking about her.

  He crossed his legs and thought strenuously for a few minutes about the plight of the Incas under the rule of the conquistadors.

  “Oh, that doesn’t matter,” Sophea said, and for a moment, Rowan had forgotten the direction of the conversation. Sophea’s voice sounded choked.

  It was on his lips to ask her what was wrong when she continued.

  “Mrs. P evidently has some super fancy suite, and I’m sure that means it has more than one bed. But the fact is that I was hired to bring her here, not take the cruise with her. And certainly not guide her. I don’t know the first thing about the Egyptian sites.” She glanced at a clock on the nightstand. “Although Akbar is due to pick us up in an hour for a trip to the pyramids, so I suppose I’ll learn something there.”

  “I’m sure you’d much rather be home where the weather isn’t into triple digits during the day and the company is more congenial than a bunch of elderly tourists,” he said, feeling his powers of persuasion lacking. “I know I would much rather be at home where I could continue my research rather than be here.”

  “Oh?” She seemed to be avoiding catching his eye. For some reason, she was hurt by that, wondering if he’d inadvertently slighted her. Her nose wrinkled in a way that he found utterly adorable. “Then why are you going on the cruise if you’d rather be elsewhere?”

  “It’s part of a job I have to do,” he said after several awkward seconds of silence. “Not one I want to conduct but unfortunately, necessary.”

  “Huh,” she said, studying her hands.

  Rowan felt like a heel lying to her in that manner, but he didn’t want to ask her what was wrong when she had her hands full with Mrs. P.

  Later, he promised himself, his body reacting to the idea of spending the night with her. Later he would get the source of her suddenly unhappy mien. Except… later he would be on a ship, and she would be going back home.

  And that thought filled him with the morose satisfaction that everything that could go wrong was going wrong.

  Except Sophea. She was the one bright, shining delight in the hellish nightmare his life had become, a delight he wasn’t going to allow to be harmed. “If you’re worried about Mrs. P’s safety, I can assure you that I’ll keep a very close eye on her,” he reassured her.

  “But you are not a dragon,” Mrs. P said fretfully.

  “No, but I can keep you safe.”

  “I must have a dragon. Only
a dragon can face the challenges and keep my shiny safe.” Mrs. P fretted with the material of her blouse.

  “Well…” Sophea bit her lower lip in thought, and Rowan was aware of yet another surge of blood to his nether regions. Quickly, he thought of various methods of medieval torture. Once he had his desires under control, he chided himself for having such an instant reaction to Sophea.

  He’d have to be a saint not to be affected by her, he told himself by way of excuse for what appeared to be a permanent erection. He casually picked up a throw pillow and laid it on his lap.

  Dammit, it wasn’t his fault if she was a temptress, a silken-skinned, desirable temptress. Perhaps it was her innocence that appealed to him or the fact that she needed a mentor, one who could teach her what world she had been born into. Or the need to shelter her, to protect her from the harshness of the world that she’d had all too much experience with. Then again, it might be the purity that wrapped around her like a cloak. She wasn’t tainted by tragedy, as he was. She was wholesome and intriguing, and very, very feminine. And he very much wished he was buried in her right at that moment.

  “To be honest, I don’t really have to go home to anything. I mean, I’m not working, and I have to admit, a cruise does sound heavenly. But I’d have to clear it with Jian’s cousin first. For all I know, he might have someone arranged to join Mrs. P here, and just didn’t mention it to me.”

  “Jian’s cousin?” he asked.

  “Jian was my husband,” Sophea explained, still not meeting his eye. “His cousin is the one who called me up and asked me to get Mrs. P to the boat. I found his number this morning, but haven’t had time to check in with him. I suppose I should give him a quick call now.”

  She rose and took the phone with her into bathroom, obviously to make her call in private.

  Rowan looked at the old woman on the bed as she perused the menu. “Why do you want Sophea with you so badly?”

  “She must accompany me. There are monsters in Duat and many challenges. Only a dragon can triumph over them.”

  “Is that why you stole the ring? Is it your offering?”

  She peered over the top of the menu at him. “I have changed my mind. You must come, too.”

  He stared for a moment, startled. “You know that I want the ring, do you not?”

  “Everyone wants it.” She returned to her examination of the menu. “None but my beau shall have it, though.”

  “Do you know why I want it?”

  She said one word, but it damned near pierced his heart. “Danegeld.”

  “What do you know about that?” he asked, pulling the menu from her hands. He was exhausted and worn down by what seemed to be endless worry. “Who exactly are you?”

  She straightened her shoulders. “I am Aset. Who are you?”

  “You know who I am,” he said, slowly sitting down on the bed next to the old lady’s.

  “You say you are nothing but a mere mortal, but you are not.” She plucked the menu from his hands and opened it. “It is clear to me that you must come on the journey as well. Your debt is due to be called in. You must pay for your sins. You must pay for the deaths of those dragons.”

  His stomach tightened painfully, and his voice, when he spoke, was hoarse. “What do you know about that?”

  She gave a one-shouldered shrug. “Where do thoughts come from? My knowledge is my own, but it is accurate. If you do not make this journey across the Duat with us, you will forfeit your life.”

  “I’m going to lose it anyway if the dragons tell their ancestor that I’m here.” Rowan rubbed his face. “I’ve been living on borrowed time for the last twenty years.”

  “The First Dragon was merciful,” she said, looking once again at him over the top of the menu. Her eyes were substantially brighter than they had been a few minutes before. “He gave you time to repay the debt, but you did not.”

  “I couldn’t,” he said, shaking his head. “I had to go into hiding. If the dragons knew where I was, they’d demand that I do nothing but practice my art for their benefit, and who knows where that would end. Possibly in more deaths.”

  “You are such a bad alchemist, then?”

  “I am an unlearned one, and that equates to being bad, yes. I haven’t broken any magic since that horrible night.”

  “The First Dragon will not be pleased,” she said, still shaking her head.

  “I doubt he ever was pleased when it concerned me,” Rowan said tiredly. He tried to organize his thoughts into sensible clumps. “I wish you’d tell me how you know about my past. It’s not something that people outside of the dragon circles know about. In fact, the only people I told about my first experience in alchemy were my parents, and they are both dead.”

  “The First Dragon knows,” she said coyly, and slowly raised the menu so that it blocked his view. “Do not discourage Sophea. You will need her, just as I will need you both.”

  “I must have that ring,” he said, a sense of almost unbearable tiredness settling firmly around him. “I don’t wish to take it from you by force, but I will if I have to. The fate of the mortal world rests on it.”

  “The fate of my happiness rests on it as well, and I have been too long without my beau,” Mrs. P countered without even flicking the menu at him. “Without my offering, all will be lost.”

  “You can say that again. Look—I can get you something else of value to offer your boyfriend. Gold, if you like. Precious jewels. Hell, even stacks of money if that’s what you want. All I ask for is that you give the ring to me, and I’ll make sure you have something of tremendous value to use as your offering.”

  “You owe danegeld to the First Dragon for the deaths of his descendants,” she said with what sounded like a righteous sniff. “You cannot even pay that, and yet you offer me the world?”

  “I’ll deal with the danegeld later,” he said somewhat snappishly. He moderated his voice, feeling like a brute who would yell at a little old lady. “It’s not like the First Dragon is going to join us on the cruise and demand I pay it right then and there.”

  “Ha!” She tossed the menu aside as Sophea emerged from the bathroom.

  He wanted to ask Mrs. P what she’d meant by that, but Sophea, with a couple of lines between her brows, said slowly, “I can’t reach him. I get some weird answering service that makes reference to the owner of that voice mailbox being permanently unavailable. Why do you have voice mail if you are not ever going to get it? And why, oh why, didn’t I write down his name? I can’t even look him up online to find another phone number for him.”

  He didn’t answer, and Sophea cast him a questioning look. “Are you okay? You look pale.”

  “I’m fine,” he croaked, and cleared his throat. “I’m just a bit… frustrated.” He gave her a potent glance, hoping she would pick up on his meaning, but she simply went over to sit on the end of Mrs. P’s bed. “I think we’d all feel better with a little food. Did you pick out what you want for lunch, Rowan?”

  He was tempted to answer, “You,” but caught himself in time. He wished Sophea would sit next to him, as she had in the car, where he could breathe in the sweet scent of her, one that reminded him of orange blossom honey.

  She tasted just as sweet, and once again, he had to adjust the pillow in his lap to keep his thoughts from being obvious. Part of his mind was irritated that she held such power over him, while the other part was cataloging all the things about her he liked, everything from that sleek, glossy black hair to the tilt of her enticing eyes, and the way she seemed to exude warmth.

  He wanted her to exude on him, again. He wanted her making shy little touches to his thigh, and pressing into him until he just wanted to take her in his arms. He wanted her mind, her unique mind thinking about him. He wanted to hear her brag how badass she was, and to make sure that nothing dinged that newfound confidence in herself.

  He had no idea why he’d become so fascinated by her, but he wasn’t going to fight the attraction.

  Except, of cour
se, that he had to get her out of there. She wasn’t safe on the trip into Duat, and he wasn’t sure if he had the power to keep her from harm. Just the thought of something happening to her while they were in the Egyptian underworld left him feeling cold and clammy inside.

  He had to keep her away from potential trouble. Once he had the ring, once the demons weren’t trying to get it, then he would return to her and beg her to take pity on him.

  The problem was… he shook his head to himself. Sophea had warned him she wouldn’t help get the ring, not that she knew the importance of it, but instinctively, he knew that even if she had been aware of it, she’d be loath to do anything to harm Mrs. P.

  Dragons were fiercely loyal beings, and even though she wasn’t a full-fledged member of that species, clearly Sophea had given Mrs. P her loyalty and would move heaven and earth to protect her. No, he said to his warring bodily desires. She had to be kept safe. And the only way to do that was to get her to go back home.

  “Rowan?”

  “Eh?”

  She waggled the menu at him. “Lunch?”

  “Ah.” He cleared his throat a second time, and said only slightly hoarsely, “The steak will do nicely for me.”

  “Meat eater, eh?” She flashed him an irrepressible smile that almost immediately faded to nothing. “I try to stick to a vegetarian diet, but then I cave to temptation, like last night.”

  He was tired, that was all. Overly tired, and stressed, and unhappy over being involved in this unpleasant job, and that’s the reason why the time he’d spent with Sophea the night before had blown up in his mind to an event the likes of which he’d never experienced.

  “Those sausages were something, weren’t they?”

  And now you’re lying to yourself, his quiet inner voice said with a disappointed tsk. Just admit it—she has a body that fits you perfectly, a naiveté that makes you want to protect her from the evils of the world, and a quirky mind that exactly suits your own warped sense of humor. You fancy her, mate, pure and simple. So tell her, already, and be happy for a change.