She scraped some bark from the tree with a rock and cursed. With no supplies, she couldn’t boil the bark in water to make him a tea. Circe had become used to living with nature, but she and her sister witches had enjoyed all the comforts of home in their cave. It had been a pleasant, civilized life. Being out in the forest with Xavier was anything but pleasant and civilized.
Deciding to make do, she gathered the bark in her short robe and made her way back toward the meadow, gathering miner’s lettuce along the way.
She turned around a towering lodgepole pine and stopped in her tracks. A woman with bark skin and pine needle hair stood before her. Circe’s eyes widened. Visitation from a dryad was rare.
The dryad’s body seemed to sway in the breeze like a loose assortment of parts. Circe cleared her throat and smiled, thinking of something appropriate to say.
“Witch”—the dryad spoke like the rustling of falling leaves—“the price of the dragon’s touch is a reward. You seek your destiny. There it lies.” She swept her hand toward the meadow where Xavier lay sunning himself in the grass. “He was dryad born. Cleansed of the mind sickness that plagues his kind. But together, you can be so much more.”
“More how?”
“His kind must be healed.”
“What about Xavier? Is he going to get better?”
“Better, stronger than before. With you. But there is so much more.”
“More how?”
The dryad’s body began to dissipate; light shone through holes in her form. She dissolved into a mass of bark, twigs, and pine needles that blew away on a phantom breeze. Circe stood motionless for a moment, staring at the space where the dryad had been. Well, that was cryptic. Did the dryad want her to heal all the dragons in the world?
Dragon shifters were notorious bastards. They were nonverbal, violent, and destructive. Xavier was an anomaly among his kind. What had the dryad meant when she said he was dryad born? At least Circe had some idea of how to heal him. If only she had a pot.
She strode back through the woods with a new resolve. It gave her the same sense of purpose she’d had when working with her friends.
Thinking of her friends traveling onward without her gave her a sinking feeling in her stomach, but she carried on toward the edge of the forest. She had a new quest. She had been given her calling, and she would accept it.
Suddenly, her friend Cassie’s astral form descended in front of her, taking Circe off guard.
“What happened?” Cassie asked.
“I’m not sure. Xavier touched me, and we both changed. I was very ill yesterday and have become more human. Some of my strongest powers are gone, and I seem to have gained some others. But he-he seems to have lost his humanity. He’s keeping me here. I don’t know why, but I intend to help him.”
“I’ll come get you.”
“No. You have your own battle to fight. This battle is mine.”
“Circe.”
“Cassie. Go.”
Cassie’s astral form shot up into the air and flew away. Circe felt regret at watching her friend leave. She did want to help Cassie, but the dryad’s message had made it very clear that Circe’s place was with Xavier.
As Circe emerged from the forest and stepped into the meadow, Xavier rolled onto his feet then trotted toward her. She stifled her panic at seeing the massive dragon approach. The sight of his teeth alone should have sent her screaming. Instead, she smiled at him and walked out to meet him.
“Xavier, I think I have a cure for your metamorphosis illness. The only problem is, I need a pot to boil it in water.”
Xavier’s body contorted in the wild dance of a shift. It happened so quickly, the contraction of his massive body into a human one seemed to happen like a film going at a hundred times the normal speed. He stood before her, naked and magnificent, with a questioning expression on his face.
“What?” he managed to say with a guttural grunt.
“This elderberry bark should help. It has magical qualities that will purge the metamorphosis illness. I was sick, too, yesterday. I’m better now. But while I was sick, I wasn’t myself. And I don’t think you are, either.”
“No,” he growled. Without pausing, he grabbed the bark and threw it in his mouth. He crunched down on the hard wood, and Circe could see he half shifted his teeth to make it possible to chew. The bark must have tasted awful. She flinched at the idea of its bitterness on his tongue.
She raised her eyebrows and smiled expectantly. He swallowed, with a great deal of effort, and grunted again. Circe examined him, waiting. Nothing happened, and she shrugged, sighing.
Xavier raised his hand to his mouth, and his cheeks puffed out. A second later, he turned his back to her and vomited on the ground. He let out a long, pained wail and staggered toward the nest, where he used the piled logs for support while he emptied the rest of his stomach’s contents.
Circe could only stand by and watch helplessly as he retched. She’d sensed that this plant would help him. She had been sure of it, but she couldn’t help feeling responsible for his suffering. She put her hand on his back, and he straightened, turning to her as he wiped his mouth.
“Circe? What are we doing here?”
“You don’t remember?”
“I remember…” He made a frustrated noise and gripped the sides of his head.
“I remember…” Xavier spun and began to pace toward the pond.
Circe scurried after him, watching his every move. He seemed to be coming around, but it was hard to say.
“What do you remember, Xavier? You know my name?”
He bent over and dry-heaved for several moments. She patted his back and sent healing energy into him, trying to soothe his sick stomach.
Finally, he stood up and looked at her as he rubbed his midsection. “Of course I know your name. The last thing I remember, I had you brought into the house for questioning. Now all the sudden, I’m in the middle of nowhere? Is this some kind of witch trick? Did you put me under a spell?”
“Did I put you under a spell?” she repeated incredulously. “You kidnapped me, flew me halfway across California in your claw, and tied me to a tree. You built that monstrosity over there.” She pointed to the nest. “And then you ate a heaping helping of deer intestines.”
“We touched,” he said at almost a whisper, sinking to sit on a large flat stone near the pond.
“I believe we have both gone through some kind of metamorphosis brought on by our contact with each other.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Look at me. Do I look like a witch anymore?”
He turned his face toward her, squinting in the sunshine. Recognition and then shock slowly moved across his features. Circe nodded, crossing her arms over her small breasts. She pursed her lips.
“Now you understand,” she said. “Yesterday, I was very ill. Almost as if I had a severe flu. And you—you’ve been beastly. Literally. You’ve been nonverbal.”
“I can’t believe this is happening.”
“Well. How do you think I’ve felt?” she asked accusingly. She sighed and dropped her guard then sank onto the stone next to him. “One of my strongest witch spells is gone, but I have newer, stronger powers. I could see that the elderberry bark would help purge your metamorphosis illness. Then I met a dryad who said our connection would make us both stronger and somehow able to heal the other dragon shifters. Do you sense any new powers?”
“All I sense right now is a horrible stomachache.”
“Sorry about that. But at least you’re talking.”
“Thank you. I think I need to take a nap in that nest I apparently built. I’ll give you a lift up.”
“In your claw?” she asked with reluctance in her voice.
“On my back.”
He shifted and crouched for her to climb up. She tucked her feet over his shoulders on either side of his neck. The fit was amazingly comfortable, almost like riding a horse.
She could feel his massive body lurching
under her. Every twitch of his muscles. His wings beat and pulled them aloft then quickly over to glide into the nest. She slid gracefully from his back and settled into the corner.
Xavier shifted and strode toward her on wobbly feet. “That took a lot out of me,” he said, nearly falling to his knees.
Circe helped him lie down. She knelt beside him, making sure he was okay. A muscled arm reached around her waist and pulled her down beside him.
He spooned against her back, holding her tight to his chest. She took a shocked breath. Circe’s eyes darted from left to right, searching for answers. Finally, she relaxed and settled into his embrace.
“I hope this is okay?” he said drowsily. “I have the overwhelming need to be close to you right now.”
“Um, sure. Why not? It seems like we have some kind of magical connection, so we might as well snuggle,” she babbled, then laughed uncomfortably. She took a deep breath and let it out. It felt heavenly to be close to a man if she let herself just experience it.
Within moments, Xavier was breathing heavily into her neck. She had to admit, she felt pretty tired, too. She’d gone through a major change, and sleep could only help. After a while, she drifted off.
Circe awoke in the darkness to the feeling of rain pelting her face. She struggled up from under Xavier’s heavy arm. Her already-useless robe was drenched.
This dragon nest has to be the most useless piece of architecture I’ve ever encountered.
She pulled herself to her feet and wiped her dripping hair from her eyes. Letting out a frustrated growl, she stomped her foot. Xavier startled awake and was instantly on his feet beside her.
“It’s raining,” he shouted over the downpour.
“No shit!” she yelled. “What the hell is this thing you built anyway?”
“A dragon nest? I guess I had some kind of instinct to build it.”
“For what?”
“I don’t know. Laying eggs, maybe,” he said, shrugging. He gripped his biceps as his body began to shake. “I’ll shift and keep you dry under my wings.”
“How are you feeling?” she asked, remembering how ill he’d been before they had gone to sleep.
“I’m well enough. The rain won’t bother me in dragon form. Come on.”
His body shifted into the massive shape of a dragon, silhouetted by the waning moon. She trotted under his wings and curled into the crook of his hind leg. He twisted his long neck around to look at her and breathed steaming air under his wing to warm her.
Circe reached up and stroked the tendrils of hair that grew under his chin. He made a purring noise, and Circe cuddled up against his stomach. She watched him as he puffed hot air into the space where she sat, and she wondered how long he could shield her from the rain. She had been irritated when she’d woken in the rain, but she had a heightened sense of protectiveness for Xavier. She worried that this exertion would not be good for him.
After quite some time, she began to doze off, Xavier still watching over her and keeping her warm.
Chapter 6
Circe woke with her cheek pressed against the soft scales of Xavier’s stomach. His wing was curled over her, keeping her dry. His neck encircled the wing, holding her in a protective hug. When she moved on his leg, his head popped up, and his blue eyes inspected her.
Sliding from Xavier’s knee, Circe smiled and rubbed her hand down his neck. Once she was a safe distance away, Xavier shifted. They stood looking at each other for a long moment, neither knowing what to say. Circe could feel the bond between them growing like twisting vines that knotted them together. She wanted to run at him and throw her arms around his chest, but propriety held her back. She still had so much to learn.
She’d never been the kind of woman who gave in to base instincts, as a CEO or as the leader of a coven. No matter how much she wanted to touch him, hold him, or feel him all over, she wouldn’t let herself get carried away. Not yet. Not until she understood what was happening to them both.
Glancing down, she could see Xavier’s erection, tall and proud, like the towering lodgepole pines that covered the landscape. She gasped and made a little squeal that she hoped he hadn’t heard. He looked down and frowned.
“Let’s go,” he said. “I think I know where we are.”
He shifted and waited for her to climb onto his back. They flew out of the nest and traveled several miles over the forest before descending near a cabin on a small crystal-blue lake. Circe was overjoyed to see a reasonable structure, and she shuffled toward it without a word. As she was about to climb the porch, she heard a thump.
She twirled around and found Xavier passed out on the gravel road where they’d landed. She ran to him, sank to her knees, and gathered him up in her arms.
“Xavier? Are you all right?”
“I don’t think I should be flying like that for a while.”
“You are still going through the change. Let me help you inside.”
She helped pull him to his feet, and they staggered into the cabin, with his arm slung heavily over her shoulder.
Inside, the little cabin was the size of a one-bedroom apartment. The front room was furnished with a faded brown leather couch, an armchair, and a coffee table facing a stone fireplace. To the side was a small kitchen separated from the living room by only a counter.
Circe helped Xavier lie down on the dusty couch. He closed his eyes and almost instantly fell asleep. She pulled a dusty throw blanket from the armchair and took it outside to beat out the dust. Once it was semi-clean, she brought it back in and covered him.
Circe checked Xavier, making sure he wasn’t feverish and that his heart wasn’t beating erratically. He seemed well enough, so she decided to look around for clothing. She desperately needed to replace her shredded robe.
She hurried into the bedroom. A rustic queen-sized bed covered with a handmade patchwork quilt stood at the center of the small room. A chest of drawers was the only other piece of furniture. Circe opened the drawers and shuffled around the clothing inside. Most of it was far too big for either of them. She found jeans, T-shirts, and thermals that might work for Xavier with a belt, but none of the women’s clothing would work for her.
Inside the closet, she found one old-fashioned-style dress that looked like something out of Little House on the Prairie. It was at least six sizes too big. Whatever. She pulled off her shredded robe and pulled on the pale-blue dress with white flowers, a ruffled hem, and puffed sleeves.
She gathered up some of the men’s clothing for Xavier and even found a pair of boots that she thought might fit him. Out in the living room, Xavier was still passed out on the couch.
As she gazed down at him, her heart tightened with sympathy. She moved a lock of blond hair off his face with her index finger. His strong cheekbones and square jaw gave him a look of invulnerability. To see him so vulnerable made her want to touch him again and again.
She sighed and walked onto the porch to gaze at the lake. Xavier had said he knew where they were. She still had no idea. She didn’t know this part of California at all. The lake was far too small and private to be Lake Tahoe, but she suspected they were somewhere in that vicinity.
There were probably fish in that lake if there had been in the tiny pond. She walked back into the house and started looking through closets and cabinets. She found several ancient cans of baked beans, a rancid mess in the small refrigerator, baking soda, and salt.
In one of the closets, she found what she was really after—a fishing pole and Powerbait. Xavier had been taking care of her this whole time, in his own way; it was time for her to return the favor.
She strode toward the lake and out onto the small dock. It looked as if a boat had once been docked there, but the rope had snapped long ago. She settled down on the edge of the dock in her ridiculous prairie dress. First, she scooped up water, cleansed it, and drank until she’d had her fill. Then she inspected the fishing line and hook on her rod. Fortunately, they were both in working order.
I
n her old life, Circe had gone fishing a few times on company retreats, so she knew the general workings of a fishing pole. She baited her hook and cast.
The first cast was a dud and only went about five feet out into the water. She reeled it in and gave it more strength the second time. The second cast flew about twenty feet out from the dock. She beamed with a satisfied smile.
Reeling the line slowly, she felt for small tugs on the hook. She wasn’t sure whether she was getting nibbles or her hook was caught on waterweeds. Finally, she reeled in her line to find she’d caught nothing but green slime.
She pulled the gooey weeds from her hook, added more bait, and cast again. As she reeled the line back, at about ten feet from her, she felt a sharp tug. That has to be a fish! She reeled strongly, fighting the little creature’s will to escape.
As it drew closer, she struggled to her feet then brought the fish forcefully out of the water. It writhed on the line, and Circe reached out for it. Its slimy skin slipped in her fingers. She shrieked and giggled as she finally caught it, pulling out the hook.
She had it in both hands and looked at it. In the past, she used her grab spell to catch fish, and never had to actually touch them until they were dead. She hadn’t caught a fish with a fishing pole in years. With practiced precision, she smashed its head against the dock.
As she stood, she heard a gun blast from across the lake. She jerked around to look. Fear trickled down her arms.
Was the gunshot from a shifter? Cougars never used technology of any kind. None of the ones she knew of, anyway. Wolves preferred to hunt in wolf form, as did bears. Perhaps it was a smaller shifter like a rodent or an otter.
Chapter 7
It could be Pyramid Corporation soldiers. With her confused abilities and Xavier in his weakened state, they were no match for Pyramid Corp.
Circe gripped the fish and jogged back to the house. She threw the fish in a bowl and shook Xavier awake. She hated to wake him, but she needed to tell him what she’d heard. His eyes fluttered open, and he looked at her with slow recognition.
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