by Cara Bristol
“All right.” He sulked.
He was a big, fierce, fire-throwing dragon. His petulance struck her as funny, but because he was a big, fierce, fire-throwing dragon, it was not a laughing matter. “Thank you,” she said.
“Since you wish to be informed of matters affecting you, I should tell you that I must speak to the king, my father, about you,” he said, almost cautiously.
An odd scent teased her nose. “I smell licorice.” She leaned close to K’ev and sniffed. “It’s coming from you.” She peered up at him.
His eyes widened. “You’re smelling my emotion, my concern about contacting my father.”
Worry smelled like licorice? She didn’t buy it. More likely, she picked up on the inflection in his voice. Besides that, he’d admitted to being concerned. So, there was no magical odor. “Why are you worried?”
K’ev sat up. “I think our mating may come as a shock.”
She caught a whiff of an overly sweet smell. Why did she get the feeling he wasn’t telling her the whole truth? “You mean he won’t approve of you and me? Because he was expecting Helena?”
K’ev looked uncomfortable. “Because he expected a mere consort. Not a mate. We have never mated with humans before, but he can’t do anything about it. The Eternal Fyre supersedes the wishes of the king. But, he will rage and spit fireballs.”
That didn’t sound very kingly. “I’d hoped for a warm welcome from my father-in-law, just not this kind,” she joked, to cover her dismay.
“It will be all right. I will make it all right,” he said.
She believed he’d try. But what if the king refused to accept her? What then? Rhianna rubbed her temple. We’re like Romeo and Juliet, except it’s not our respective families who oppose us getting together, but our entire planets. And we know how Romeo and Juliet ended.
“We will make it all right,” she reminded him. “We’re in this together.” Living in his world would require adjustments and compromises. She would have to get used to dragon customs, and they would have to accept some of her ways. Maybe then each side would understand the other better. Perhaps there had been some merit to Earth sending a concubine.
“We will,” he said.
“All of this is tied up with Elementa, isn’t it?”
“That’s a major part of it.” He pressed his lips together.
“Draco will never give up Elementa, will they?”
“We can’t.”
Couldn’t or wouldn’t? She could guess why Earth wanted the planet—for its riches, the precious metals. Maybe they wanted an outpost to further galactic expansion. In a quest for wealth, conquering and colonizing had been Earth’s history for eons. Advancing beyond the planet had been preordained by human nature. Did the dragons also have a policy of manifest destiny, believing they had a right to expand? Were they on the brink of war over a land grab?
“Why can’t you give it up?” she asked.
“Because.” K’ev paused. “Time has run out. Elementa is critical to our survival as a species.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Draco is dying. The core has been cooling for eons, but it has reached a critical stage. In another thousand years, we won’t have enough active volcanoes to support life. We need a new homeland, and Elementa is not only the perfect choice, it’s the only choice.”
“Can’t you find another planet?”
“We’ve been trying. We’ve been searching the galaxy for nearly 500,000 years.” His mouth quirked. “How do you think we came to discover Earth?”
Rhianna sat up. “You mean that time you visited—when you came to my school and we met—you were considering Earth as your new planet?”
“Then, no. Originally, yes.”
“What do you mean originally?”
“Draconians first landed on Earth about 10,000 years ago. Your planet was cold, so we rejected it as a potential homeland. Your people were…quite primitive back then. About fifteen years ago, about the time we discovered Elementa, we got curious and decided to check in on Earth’s progress.”
She’d never believed the wild theories that extraterrestrials had been responsible for the Easter Island stone figures, Stonehenge in England, Teotihuacan in Mexico, the Egyptian pyramids. If dragons had visited, maybe others had, too. How many alien visitations might there have been?
Another thought struck her—the legends that had persisted throughout history must have been based on fact. “Our dragon mythology must have originated from encounters with your people,” she said.
“Most likely,” he nodded. “As primitive as you were 10,000 years ago, we would have avoided interaction with your people, but probably some encounters did occur.” He lifted a shoulder. “So now you know what’s at stake for us.” He slid out of bed and paced, his tail twitching.
Draco would never cede Elementa to Earth. This wasn’t about acquiring planetary real estate or a wealth of natural resources. This was life or death. They would fight for it—kill for it. Earth had to understand this was all or nothing.
“You have to let me contact Earth,” she said. “Can you do it from the ship?” She got out of bed, too. It felt a little weird to be discussing the fate of two worlds while being stark naked, but K’ev seemed comfortable in his own skin.
“And do what?” he asked.
“Convince the president to give up Elementa. Tell him Draco needs it to survive—”
“No. Absolutely not.” K’ev whirled around and, in two paces, he stood before her. “I trust you, Rhianna, because my fyre and my dragon tell me I can. I do not trust your people. They would view our requirement for a homeland as a vulnerability and attempt to use it against us. They would mistake need for weakness and believe they could win a war.” Dead-serious yellow eyes met hers. “They cannot win. Draco will claim Elementa one way or another. The question is whether your people will live to see it.”
Part of her couldn’t believe she’d agreed to become the mate of a man whose people would have no qualms about destroying her people. But, K’ev himself wasn’t like the other Draconians. He’d accepted her and all her humanness. He often referred to his “fyre.” Well, her “fyre” knew his fyre. He was domineering, imperious, yet had a heart of gold. And they were bonded for better or for worse. One, yet two. Two people, one future. Plus, she empathized with the Draconians’ situation. In a fight for their lives, they were running out of time.
“All the more reason for you to let me talk to the president.” She raised her hand to silence him when he would have interrupted. “I won’t mention how critical Elementa is to Draco’s survival. But they sent me here to try to work things out. Since I’ve seen Elementa, I have information the president doesn’t. Let me try to convince him the planet wouldn’t benefit Earth. That it’s inhospitable and uninhabitable. He’ll listen to me sooner than he would a Draconian.”
She looked at him. “Wouldn’t you rather approach the king with news Earth intends to withdraw?”
“There’s no guarantee you’ll be successful—”
“No, there’s no guarantee. But, it’s a chance. It’s a start. It opens the dialogue.” She canted her head. “If I could bring you Elementa, that would be a heck of a dowry, wouldn’t it?”
Chapter Twenty
Unable to pull herself together, Helena slumped at her desk and stared at the wall. A tear ran down her cheek and dripped onto the polished walnut. Her secure phone buzzed. Leave me alone! She couldn’t even grieve in peace! She glowered but, like a good little soldier, she answered it. “Helena Marshfield,” she said.
“You’re wanted in the war room,” said Patsy Winslow, her father’s personal assistant. “They’re waiting for you.”
How appropriate the command center had been dubbed the war room since the decisions made there pushed them toward a military showdown. Rhianna’s death had ended the plan before it had begun, and her father and his security team needed to regroup, but she didn’t think she could handle a strategy session when grief and s
elf-loathing alternated stabbing her in the gut.
I helped kill her.
Helena clutched the receiver. Why did she need to attend anyway? Nobody listened to her. She’d been excluded from a couple of key sessions, so why invite her now? Jackson Biggs would do whatever the hell he wanted. Once she’d considered herself an integral part of her father’s cabinet, believed they’d valued her input, but she’d been window dressing—like the president himself. Her father was a figurehead. Biggs called the shots.
Out of fear for her own safety—cowardice—she’d led Rhianna to her death. What unconscionable plan would Biggs come up with next?
“Please pass on the message they should proceed without me,” Helena said. “I’m unable to attend the meeting at this time.”
“Miss Marshfield—”
“No.” She started to hang up.
“Helena—wait.” The assistant never called her by her first name. “I’m not supposed to say anything.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “A Draconian ship has hailed the president. It’s not a dragon calling—it’s Rhianna. The president is holding off answering until you arrive.”
Rhianna? Ohgodohgod. “I’m coming!” Helena dropped the phone and ran.
Outside the war room she secured her jittering nerves behind a mask of composure and then entered. “I’m here.” She strolled to her place and slid into her seat. “What are we dealing with?”
“A call is coming in from the Draconian ship,” her father said. “Supposedly, it’s from Rhianna.”
“Rhianna’s alive?” She feigned surprise to protect Patsy’s confidence, but her joy was real.
“We don’t know for a fact it’s her.” Biggs glanced at the monitor in front of him. “We’ll be running vocal and facial recognition programming to verify her identity. If it is her, we need to know when she might have an opportunity to meet with the king.”
The president pressed a button on his console. “Patch through visuals and audio.”
A large screen on the wall flickered and then a blurry Rhianna appeared against a grayish-green background. Her image wavered then snapped into focus.
“Rhianna! We thought you were dead!” She fought back tears. Biggs would pounce on weakness or sentimentality.
“Reports of my death have been exaggerated—but not by much,” Rhianna quipped.
“It is indeed good to hear from you,” Helena’s father said.
“Thank you, Mr. President.”
Squinting at his monitor, Biggs gave a little nod and flashed a thumbs-up.
Helena didn’t need software verification to recognize her friend. Rhianna appeared in perfect health, except for an odd, double-crescent shaped injury on her neck revealed by the wide neckline of her grayish one-piece unitard. Laser blast wound?
“How are you doing?” her father asked. “Are the Draconians treating you well?”
As if you cared, Helena thought.
“I’m being treated very well. The Draconians saved my life after the colonists attacked me.”
“You were attacked by the colonists?” The president frowned. “The report we received said you got caught in the line of fire when the colonists defended themselves against a dragon attack.” He glanced at Biggs, seated off camera where Rhianna couldn’t see him. He wouldn’t speak or be introduced because Rhianna lacked the security clearance and a need-to-know of his existence.
“That’s not what happened at all. Four colonists shot me point-blank when I approached them. Prince K’ev defended me. Draconian medical personnel saved my life.”
“So it was true. The prince himself attacked and killed colonists.” Helena’s father pressed his lips together grimly.
“Did you not hear what I said? The colonists attacked first. They tried to kill me. Prince K’ev defended me.”
“Why would they attack you?”
“They assumed I was a dragon. Don’t you see where this is leading? We’ve gotten to the point where we shoot first, ask questions later. The hostilities need to end.” Rhianna lifted her chin. “Mr. President, I’m asking you to withdraw the settlement on Elementa. I’ve been there—it’s not a place where we should be. The entire planet is volcanic. The air is toxic; the native life-forms are dangerous. It’s unsuitable for habitation. Let the Draconians have it. A few metals and minerals aren’t worth fighting over and risking annihilation.”
Her father pasted on the pensive expression he’d perfected so well. “You raise good points, Rhianna, and you’ve added weight to discussions we’ve already had in support of withdrawal. We’ve been considering surrendering Elementa,” the president lied through his teeth. The discussions had been of the hell-no variety.
“You are?” Rhianna’s voice rose on a hopeful, happy note. “That’s such a relief.”
No, no. Don’t believe it! Outwardly, Helena maintained her composure. She couldn’t let her emotions show because everything was being recorded and would be analyzed and re-analyzed. What am I going to do? I have to warn her.
“How did you end up on Elementa anyway?” she asked. Under the conference table, she twisted her hands. If only she had a few moments alone with Rhianna. If she could get her message out of earshot of Biggs and her father…
“K’ev thought I would be interested in seeing it and gave me a tour.” She narrowed her eyes. “I never expected to find a settlement. I insisted Earth would never do that. Imagine my surprise. Why haven’t the people been informed?”
“The reasoning behind that is not something I can share with you. I’m sorry,” the president said. “Where are you now?”
“We’re in orbit around Elementa. We’ll proceed to Draco soon.”
Oh god. She had to warn her…
“Good. We need you to continue with your diplomatic efforts on Draco. Hopefully, you’ll have a chance to meet with the king.”
“Oh, I’m sure I will,” Rhianna said with an odd inflection. Helena glanced at Biggs to see if he picked up on it, but he seemed unaware. “I’d love to be able to assure the king Elementa will no longer be an issue.”
“I would like that, as well. I promise you, we’re working on it. Do you still have the communication unit you were given?”
“Yes, but after playing once, it never played again.”
Her father glanced at Biggs, who gave a slight nod. Did Rhianna wonder why the president kept looking offscreen? “I’ll update you on my decision as soon as it’s finalized, so it’s important to keep the comm unit with you and wear it at all times.”
“You can reach me on Draco through the device?”
“That’s the plan,” he said. “It would be helpful to us if we had an idea when you were going to meet with the king.”
“Can I contact you through the device?”
“Unfortunately, no. It only works one way.” The president shook his head ruefully. When had her father become such a good liar? When did I become such a coward? Self-loathing churned her stomach. I have to do something!
“If Prince K’ev allowed you to contact us now, is there a chance he’d let you contact us from Draco?” her father asked.
“I’m…pretty…sure…he…would.” The sound slowed, and her image wavered as if some interference affected the transmission.
“Excellent. Then, if you would, please keep us apprised when you’re meeting with King K’rah.”
“I’ll try, but I can’t…promise. I don’t know…what I’ll find when I get to Draco.”
The transmission was breaking up. How much longer would they be able to hold her? Helena’s pulse skyrocketed with panic. Say something! Do something! She curled her nails into her palms. “Those are some interesting threads you’re wearing.”
“My Draconian…jumpsuit?” Was that a blush on her cheeks, or had the interference affected the color? “I was, uh, in a hurry. When we were told the communique had gone through, I grabbed the first thing handy.”
“The earrings I dropped when I boarded the ship would look nice with the jumpsuit,” Helena s
aid.
“Earrings? I don’t remember earrings. I have a belt.”
Helena faked a laugh. “That’s what I meant.”
Rhianna’s image flickered. “Fading…not…getting the signal…”
“What? Rhianna! You’re breaking up,” the president said. “Do you copy?”
“I’ll try…contact…from Draco.” The screen blanked out.
Biggs leaned back in his chair and rocked. “We proceed with the plan.”
“What should we tell the families of the dead colonists?” the president asked.
“Nothing yet,” Biggs replied. “The settlement program is still top secret. At the appropriate time, they’ll be informed their loved ones were attacked by dragons.”
“But, you heard Rhianna—that’s not how it went down,” Helena said.
“As far as we’re concerned, nothing has changed,” Biggs said. “The president and I have a few things to discuss, but you may return to your office.”
The dismissal indicated how far her position had fallen over the past few months. She used to be included in all high-level discussions. Once, the expulsion would have rankled, but that was before she’d learned how dangerous Biggs was. Grateful for the chance to escape, she pushed back from the table.
She looked at her father. “Thanks for including me.”
“You’re welcome, sweetheart.” He hadn’t called her that in years. “I know how much Rhianna meant to you.”
Meant. Past tense. Because they were proceeding with the plan.
Why, Dad, why? Why did you bring Biggs into your administration? How did he get his hooks into you? What does he have on you? Those questions would never be answered. Couldn’t be asked without consequences. It was too late anyway. What was done, was done.
She strode to the door.
“Helena.” Biggs brought her to a halt. “One more thing…”
Her hand on the knob, she turned.
He focused his laser-eyed gaze on her face. “You considered fashion tips important, why?”