by Eve Langlais
Babette leaned in close for a sniff.
“He’s like cinnamon,” Elspeth confided. “At times, when his eyes get sparky, it’s like cinnamon baked in an intense, dry sun. And other times, it’s like he’s a hot cross bun dribbled with icing.” She licked her lips.
She’s thought of my scent. Luc could barely contain his surprise at her description. He knew enough about cinnamon and icing that he understood she paid him a compliment.
Leaning in for a whiff, Babette didn’t wax as eloquent. “Dude, you do smell funny. What are you?”
“Babsy! You can’t just ask him that,” Elspeth hissed. “It’s rude.”
“He’s not human, and he’s not dragon. Which makes him interesting, and I want to know.” Babette perused him from head to toe. He preferred it when Elspeth did it.
He liked it even better when she stepped in front of him, the scent of her enveloping him. She smelled like pure sunshine.
“Don’t put him on the spot. Maybe Luc can’t tell you because he’s some kind of rare thing. What if he’s the last unicorn?
“A unicorn?” Babette snorted. “Those died out a long time ago. Eaten because they were tasty.”
“As were dodo birds supposedly, but what if they simply went to another dimension?” Elspeth added.
“You think he’s a dodo bird? I could see that.” Babette arched a brow enough for him to grasp her reference to the avian creature was emasculating.
Elspeth’s lips pursed. “Probably not from the bird family, given you don’t have the right kind of feathery hair.”
“Are you a selkie?
He had no idea what any of those creatures were. And he tired of hiding. About time someone of his kin showed pride. He thrust out his chest, shoulders back and declared, “I am a demon.”
Babette eyed him up and down then shook her head. “No, you’re not.” Flat-out denial.
“I am.”
“Then where are your horns and tail? What about your wings and gross, scaly skin?”
He blinked at her. “How do you know what we look like?” He had only seen illustrations. He’d yet to actually transform. He wasn’t even sure he could, having lived amongst the poisoned metal in the rocks of the dungeon for so long.
He’d never been more shocked than when his mother managed to pop some horns and a few teeth.
“If you’re going to lie, then you should have chosen something less distinctive. The Bible has been describing your kind forever.”
His brow wrinkled. “What is a bible?”
“A religious text. I think the first one was done by the Christians. Or was it the Catholics?” Babette asked Elspeth, who shrugged replying, “I thought they were the same thing.”
“The Christians?” He spat the word. “They are part of the group who banished us to that other realm.” The demons found those sanctimonious fools tastiest of all. Part of the reason why the Christians banded with the elves to rid themselves of his kind.
“Why were you banished?”
At that, he smiled. “Because we were unapologetically violent.”
“I’m surprised you went.”
“The problem with being violent is that others are violent in return. We were never as populous as humans and, with our infighting, not anywhere near to being a cohesive unit. For a while, my ancestors rallied under the banner of the original Terrible One. I am named after him, the mighty Lucifer.”
“Your boyfriend is named after the Devil,” Babette stated to Elspeth flatly.
“I know. Cool, right?”
“Hell, yeah.” Babette fist-bumped Elspeth.
“I thought you wanted my story.” He frowned at their interruption.
Elspeth melted it with a smile. “Sorry. Please, tell us more. You’re related to the Lord of Darkness, Lucifer.”
“I am. He was felled in battle, which resulted in the demon legions being routed. The Christians gave my kind a choice. Leave or die.”
“Kind of like what happened to the dragon mages,” Elspeth noted. “Both sent to learn the errors of your ways. Looks like it worked.”
“For the demons, yes. But not the mages. Our punishment changed us while in that other place.” According to the history his father had taught him, they didn’t have a choice. The demons started out in their hell world, reacting violently to everything and everyone, only to realize they would die out if they didn’t change their ways. Which led to a revolution of their mindset. It helped that the very fabric of that other world stifled their magic and bestial side.
“By the time the dragons were exiled to Hell, my people had achieved a peaceful utopia. They no longer remembered how to fight. They no longer shifted into their demon self. They were a society based on trust and caring.”
“Gag me.” Skepticism thrived within Babette. “You expect me to believe you became some beatnik, drum-tapping, happy-go-lucky immigrants? I call bullshit.”
“Babsy! Language.”
“What?” Babette swung her gaze to Elspeth. “Don’t tell me you believe this crap. The guy speaks perfect English.”
“The brothers who kept me hidden from the suzerain taught me.” Television did the rest. Learning was something Luc did well.
“You expect us to believe you’re the last of your kind?”
“If there are others, I knew not of them, nor can I return to search. The world has shifted. The portal is now closed.”
“Convenient.” Babette pursed her lips. “It means we can’t even check out your story.”
“Why would I lie about who I am and where I come from?” The idea baffled him.
“You tell me.”
Elspeth interjected. “Let’s just say he is a demon and the last of his kind. Shouldn’t we be helping him adjust?”
“Have you lost what little pea-sized brain you had left? Maybe your mom is right, and you should stay on drugs.” Babette rounded on Elspeth. “Have you not watched any movies about Hell or demons? Because I have, enough to know demons are bad dudes. It’s in their nature to be violent.”
If it was supposed to be in their nature, then he might be defective because, while Luc wanted to be violent and bloodthirsty, he’d yet to quite achieve that state. Being raised in a cell, and by a peace-loving father, he’d never had a chance to practice sparring. He’d only learned magic because of his mother’s hidden lessons.
Thinking of his mother reminded him of his purpose. “Interesting that you admit a species can’t change. Are you conceding then that you are like your ancestors?”
“You mean awesome?” Babette blew hotly on her fingers and then polished them on her shirt. “Yeah, we’re awesome and smart and strong.”
“Duplicitous. Selfish.”
“Those, too.”
“You admit then that a dragon’s nature is to covet what others have and take it? By force if necessary.”
“It’s the rule of the strongest. Evolution, dude.” Babette shrugged. “We can’t help it if we’re just genetically superior.”
“Not all of us take,” Elspeth interjected. “I don’t.”
Hadn’t she, though? Since the moment they’d met, she’d taken his burning desire for revenge and replaced it with something far worse—hope for a future.
“You might not take, but that’s because you’re special. Hockey-helmet special,” Babette muttered.
A remark he didn’t understand. The conversation had veered wildly off track. “If your kind respects strength, then they will have no issue when I begin to draw armies to myself in preparation for my coup.”
“His what?” Babette asked.
“Luc wants to rule the world.” Elspeth clapped her hands. “Isn’t it marvelous how someone who’s had to overcome so much can still ascribe to wonderfully lofty goals?”
Babette shook her head. “More like suicide. You do realize he’s just one guy.”
“Demon,” he corrected.
“Excuse me, demon. You’re both delusional if you think a demon can rule the world. He’ll be
lucky if he’s not captured and probed by government scientists.” Babette snickered.
“I won’t be captured.” Not again.
“Because you’re just that tough?” Babette mocked. “Your plan will fail, dude.”
“Perhaps I won’t kill the humans.” There were too many, and he’d like to retire eventually. “But I won’t be as lenient with dragons. For the sins of your ancestors, you shall die. All of you.” Yet the moment he said it, he wanted to retract it, especially since Elspeth’s face took on a sad cast.
“Dude, that’s harsh. You almost made her cry.”
He didn’t need Babette’s chiding to succumb to chagrin. “Perhaps some can be spared.”
“He spared the rod, and the children revolted. They came after their gods and their kings.” Elspeth spoke in an almost singsong voice, her eyes taking on a dreamy cast. “I see the armies gathering. The lives, the future of countries on a battlefield. Soaking it in blood. So much blood…” Elspeth snapped out of her vision.”
Babette stared at her. “What the fuck was that about?”
Elspeth rolled a shoulder. “Sometimes, a certain future is stronger than others and becomes especially vocal when I’m around a focus person.”
“A what?” Luc asked.
“It means shit happens around you, dude. Even I get that.” Babette let her disdain shine through.
“There are many forks that depend on you,” Elspeth noted. “It’s sad how many end in death, though. Hasn’t there been enough already?”
Yes. And if it were just him, he’d abandon his foolish plan. Yet the moment he contemplated it, he could picture his mother’s face and hear her last words.
He owed it to her. That didn’t mean he said it aloud. His gaze caught on Elspeth’s.
An outside force got between them. “Getting a little too intense there, dudes. Back up. Three feet. Or as the Catholic school told us, keep Jesus between you.”
“You went to Catholic school?” Elspeth sounded surprised.
“Not for long. I got kicked out.” Babette sounded quite proud.
He, on the other hand, thought it was awfully lucky that she’d gotten to live so freely. To choose an education and more.
All things I could do if I weren’t busy getting revenge.
“Dude, I want to help you.” Babette’s offer seemed a little too smooth. “If you’re so keen on killing all dragons, then why not start with her?” Babette pointed at Elspeth. “Go ahead. She’s a dragon. And if she’s been true to form, she’s probably driven you nuts at this point. Kill her. Come on. I’ll hold her down if you want. But I don’t think we need to worry. She won’t stop you.”
“I won’t,” Elspeth said, her eyes big and shining. “If this is what you need to make peace with yourself, then I am willing to sacrifice my life.”
The fool woman closed her eyes and tilted her head back, baring her neck.
How dare she make herself vulnerable to him!
“Don’t do that,” Luc growled.
“What’s wrong, demon? I thought this was what you wanted,” Babette taunted.
“Killing a defenseless woman”—one whose laughter and hugs warmed something in him that had been cold for so long—“isn’t what I want, but what else am I to do? I made a promise.”
“A promise to someone who is dead now. Who never imagined you leaving Hell.” Elspeth placed her hand on his arm, and he tensed. “Had your mother lived and seen the possibilities of this world, do you really think she’d ask you to throw your life away for a vendetta that will result in your death?”
“You can’t know that.”
“All paths to vengeance lead to your end.”
Chilling words from someone who claimed to see the future.
“What else am I to do if not exact revenge? My family is dead. My world is gone. I have no purpose. No meaning.” Why bother? It wasn’t as if anyone would notice his passing? He was tired of the loneliness. His shoulders drooped under the weight of his despair.
Then he staggered as Elspeth threw herself at him. “Don’t you dare give up!” The full weight of her body slammed into him, and he had to grab hold of her to balance them both. “You do have something. You have me. I will be by your side for as long as I can. Find me no matter what. By sticking by my side, you will find closure.”
“I thought we were supposed to keep him from killing himself, not giving him tips on how to hasten it.”
Did Babette seriously imply that Elspeth’s presence was somehow undesirable? She was the only person he could tolerate. Even Alfred grated on his nerves with his pompous airs. He thought quite highly of himself for a human who wore too much cologne.
Luc came to Elspeth’s defense. “More people should emulate her.”
“Thank you.” She smiled at the praise and gave his arm a squeeze. She might as well have fisted his cock; that was where he felt it.
“It’s the truth. You are the only dragon I’ve met that I admire.”
Babette gagged. “I think I am going to be sick. Can we save the puppy-eyes lovefest for another time? I’m still dealing with the whole demon thing. Can we see it? Get naked and change.”
“No.” He practically barked the word.
“Why not?”
“Why don’t you transform?” he snapped.
“If you insist.” Babette did, a quick shift of skin to scales and massive size, filling the room, making a few of the more delicate items hit the ground with a crash.
Alfred would probably complain.
Her wings fluttered, sending even more things flying.
“Stop that.”
“You did ask her,” Elspeth noted. “Isn’t she gorgeous? I always envied the Silvers. My mom was a half one. My dad is a Vermilion. Me, I got canary yellow.”
“I think the color yellow is beautiful.” The words spilled from his lips with ease, and his cheeks heated.
She smiled and mouthed, “Thank you.”
A trilling noise drew his attention to the dragon in the room. Kind of hard to miss.
Babette did make an impressive beast. Many handspans taller than he. Fatter, too. Yet, the research he’d managed over the years, questions Maedoc and his brother, Eogan, answered not realizing how Luc stored the information, let him know that, despite the girth, a dragon weighed no more than a human. Most of it was hollow weight. Not that Babette was just a balloon that could be punctured. Dragons still had organs and tissue and all the other things that made a living organism; it was just spaced more widely. The atoms not sticking as close, yet maintaining their structure and purpose.
The spaces between provided the buoyancy. The ability to become light enough that the massive wings folded at the back could keep them aloft.
Fascinating.
He reached out to touch, only to have Elspeth snare his hand.
“You might not want to pet her like a dog. Trust me. I almost lost a hand doing that,” she advised.
“I’ve never seen one this close.”
“Really? But you said the dragon mages held you prisoner.”
“I also said the magic they used to extend their lives also perverted their nature. The energy they imbibed to extend their lives affected their abilities. Even their appearance.”
“What do you mean appearance?” Elspeth asked. “Did she look deformed?”
A grimace pulled Babette’s dragon features, and her next fluted words were sad.
“What did she say?” he asked.
“That Voadicia looked all too human, and she never suspected.”
“That is because she would have absorbed things over time. Magical ability. Appearances. Even scent.”
Elspeth wrinkled her nose. “You mean she can change into anyone she’s eaten?”
“If they left a strong enough pattern, then, yes.” But it took effort. And effort took energy. Luc’s blob-like jailors obviously conserved theirs to survive rather than look presentable.
“Can you change into a bunch of different shapes?”
Elspeth asked, holding his hand in hers.
“No. Not even my demon self.” The truth escaped. No time to take it back.
“But your horns…”
“An aberration. My people forgot how to become. Our world was comprised of a metal that impeded that ability.”
“The dracinore,” Elspeth said excitedly. “It’s the dragon kryptonite, as well.”
“Obviously not as severe, though. The suzerain had no issues using magic.”
“But you said it yourself, her magic was perverted. Augmented by outside life forces. Who’s to say that’s not why she could circumvent it?” Elspeth said.
Luc frowned. “I guess it’s possible.”
The silver dragon fluted a high note then a low one.
Elspeth frowned. “No, that does not mean we should gather the remaining dracinore in this world and get it ready. It’s not Luc we have to worry about.”
“It’s not?” He couldn’t help his surprise.
A suddenly naked Babette appeared, and he averted his gaze.
“What do you mean it’s not him we have to worry about?”
“Because he’s not our biggest threat.”
“Then who is?” Babette asked. “And you can look again, dude. I covered the girly bits. You don’t have to be scared.”
Heat injected his skin. “It’s called respect.” When younger prisoners filled the cells, privacy was almost nonexistent. But they did their best. A nude body became the equivalent of the words, “I need to be alone.” Everyone averted their gazes while it lasted.
Those who didn’t? The hotheads and those that thought it acceptable to disrespect? Volunteered the next time the suzerain came looking for food.
Allowing his gaze to return, he noted Babette wrapped in a blanket, her shoulders bare but respectable by the measures of the time and place he found himself in.
Nothing was as expected.
“You still haven’t said who’s more dangerous than your demon boyfriend,” Babette stated.
Boyfriend? He knew enough of the term to realize it implied a romantic attachment to Elspeth. Not exactly a repellent idea.