All but Human

by Kris Austen Radcliffe

  “She will be safe. Daisy and Gavin will be safe. It is what the beast and I do.”

  And there it was, Ladon and Brother-Dragon’s—Anna and Sister-Dragon’s, too—core sense of self-worth: What are they good for? War and protection, or absolutely nothing.

  “Perhaps they need more than safety, Ladon.” After twenty centuries as the Second of the Dragons’ Legion, Andreas knew this path all too well. And he was cold.

  “What are you babbling about?” Ladon’s head appeared again.

  “Same damned thing I babble about every goddamned time I have to pull your ass out of your moping.”

  “Fuck off.” More sounds followed. Ladon moved away and farther up the roof.

  “How many times have you told me to fuck off when I come to rescue you from yourself?”

  “Go inside, Andreas. Make Rysa breakfast before she goes into campus for her last final exam. I will come in when it is safe.”

  “It is safe!” Andreas roared. “Vivicus is dead. He died in the Canadian facility the only way you can kill that son of a bitch! He burned to death. Good riddance, too. Why my mother didn’t put him down centuries ago, I will never understand.”

  “The Fates who wanted Rysa are the same Fates who attacked Daisy nine years ago. Aiden Blake and his two sisters. I am sure of it. They’re still out there and they’re Primes, Andreas. No one knows what family they’re part of, or what their real names are, but they’re out there.” A shadow fluttered as Ladon waved his arm.

  “I know. Trajan put his entire army of spies to the task of watching for and tracking them. They aren’t going to harm you or your woman.”

  “Trajan tried to kill her.”

  How was Andreas supposed to argue the subtleties of Trajan’s behavior? “Praesagio Industries is conquered territory, Ladon. The Ulpi Fates lay tribute at the feet of their new Tsar and they work from inside the new system to make sure their goals continue forward.” He leaned against the house’s wall. “Trajan’s primary objective has always been to protect the planet, which he believes belongs to him. He makes new technologies and he harnesses the best of the Fates and Shifters to do so. He considers you and your sister the best of his toys and he wishes to keep you both in pristine fighting condition.”

  “He can fuck off as much as you,” Ladon grumbled.

  Andreas chuckled. “Yes, well, I told him that the only person you belong to is the lovely Ms. Draki Prime and if he wishes to secure your cooperation, he’d better make sure her path in life is free of detritus and dusted with rose petals.”

  Ladon chuckled. Andreas might be making headway.

  “Come down, please. I’m cold. I wish to go in and enjoy the company of young people.”

  The pause before Ladon spoke again curled in the air like a fog. “They are young, aren’t they?”

  “Aye, my friend, they are.” Andreas rubbed his gloved hands together. “I am impressed by Mr. Bower. He will one day be Dragons’ Legion. I am sure of it.”

  “He’s stronger than he looks.”

  This did not surprise Andreas. “He feels himself a brother to Rysa, and is acting in her—and your—best interest.”

  Another pause rolled down the side of the house. “He called you, didn’t he?”

  “Yes.” Might as well speak the truth. “He assures me that your more annoying behaviors are not uncommon among men who have seen too much war. He says that they are now treatable.”

  “Rysa heals me.” But his voice said that her healings were not enough.

  “She has been a healer for six months. Her seers might give her a significant advantage, but you and I both know psychological traumas are very difficult to fix.” As were old wounds. Fixing old wounds took significant talent and skill. She had the talent, and she had a dragon who compensated for much of her novice lack-of-training, but Ladon’s wounds were older than Andreas’s long life.

  “Yes, I know.”

  “Come down. I will give you an enthralling. You will feel better and you will be able to enjoy your wedding. Then when the young people return here for their final semester of study, you and I will go to Praesagio. We will get you healed correctly. The medical Fates will tell Sandro Torres and the brood of de la Turris healers streaming in from Argentina where to lay on their hands. You will return to your glorious smiting form. Trajan will feel his life’s work vindicated and you will come back to your woman a better man because of it. All will be good.”

  “I no longer wish to smite, Andreas. Nor does the beast.”

  No, they did not. They never wished to smite. “Then you become the farmer you so desperately want to be.”

  Ladon laughed. “I wish to build. Maybe become a father.”

  Andreas moved away from the wall and looked up at the roof. Was Ladon not telling him something?

  Gripping the window frame, he tested it with his weight, and pulled himself up enough to allow his boots purchase. Then he swung out an arm and grabbed the edge of the roof. “Are you going to help me or not?” he called.

  Ladon glanced over the edge. An arm appeared. And suddenly Andreas was being pulled onto the roof of Daisy’s house.

  Twenty centuries and Ladon’s strength still surprised Andreas. Hauling him up was, for Ladon, like carrying a child. On the roof, he’d cleared a wide area, and applied ice melt to clear the ice. At least Andreas would not accidently slide off.

  He dropped next to his friend, his knees bent and his boots acting as his main grip on the shingles. “Is she with child?”

  Ladon stared out at the alley. He’d grown his hair into the same style he wore while they lived among the Norse, after Abigail died and Ladon returned from Bavaria.

  “No. She uses her seers to watch for problem pregnancies. We are careful.”

  Andreas nodded. “You rumble for her, don’t you?” The intense attachment Ladon showed for Rysa suggested that his friend, once again, had found himself in dragon-love.

  Andreas was sure the rumblings were powered by something distinctly dragon. Before he left Portland, he’d seen a change in Anna toward Derek. Nothing overt, but he suspected that whatever Rysa did to the Tsar had also made him dragon-correct.

  Ladon glanced over before returning his gaze to the alley. “Yes. From the beginning.”

  That was new. Andreas huffed. “Can’t say I’m surprised.”

  Ladon shrugged.

  “You have a type, my friend. Sorry to tell you, but it’s true.” Auburn but not red hair, curvy, intelligent, sweet and selfless, and with some issue that made her need his help and support. In many ways, Rysa was Abigail all over again.

  A quick smile appeared on Ladon’s face, then disappeared. “Not anymore.”

  Now Andreas laughed. “You’re a one-woman man. Always have been and always will be. Except for those centuries in Rome. And again when we lived with the Northman. And again for a while during the Renaissance.”

  Ladon shook his head.

  “You remember that blonde shield maiden? What was her name? She most definitely was not your type.”

  Ladon leaned back against the roof. “That was what, eleven centuries ago? You cannot expect me to remember the name of every woman I’ve fucked.”

  “No, I expect you to remember her. I do.” The woman had been formidable. And had a preference for Legion men. And for well-executed raids. “Fun times.”

  “Your type is the same as mine.” Ladon rolled his eyes.

  “I like all women.” Big, little, brutal or angelic, he didn’t care as long as they were smart. Though he and Ladon did have a history of taking up where the other left off with a woman.

  “Yes, you do.” Ladon looked him up and down. “And all women like you.” He frowned. “How is it that I terrify most women and all you need to do is smile? I don’t understand.”

  Andreas could give Ladon the standard answers: Too much black. Too much frowning. His speed and his strength. His dragon. But honestly, smart women wanted a man who didn’t hate himself. They picked it up off Ladon
somehow, and it terrified them.

  “Rysa loves you.” Andreas tapped a shingle. The woman saw Ladon’s soul, not everything that hung from it.

  “As only the young can love.” Ladon grunted. “I don’t want to lose her. I can’t, Andreas. Not another one. Not her. She’s…” He looked up at the sky.

  She was his one and only. The one he rumbled for, and if she could, would rumble for him.

  Andreas had been to the same place with a few women during his life. None recently. For a while, he’d thought Penny might get there with him. He should have known better. But when you are lonely, your hopes and fears color how you see the world.

  “You’re not going to lose her. Anna’s not going to lose the Tsar, either. And, I suspect, the young Mr. Bower isn’t going to lose the young Ms. Pavlovich.”

  Ladon grinned. “He’s more of a puppy around Daisy than Radar and Ragnar.”

  “I noticed.” He tapped the shingles again. “You two have more in common than you want to admit.”

  Ladon sat up again. “Says the man who pouts about the limited guest list.”

  A hearty laugh rolled out of Andreas. “Are you going to come to Portland with me?”

  His friend rubbed his gloved hands together before pulling his knit cap down over the shaved sides of his head. “We cannot leave. Rysa needs us. We help her study.”

  Time inside a Dracae’s energy flow did wonders for a person’s mood, something Andreas knew firsthand. “Anna will come. Sister-Dragon may wish to spend time learning to doctor as well.” Time with Rysa might also help Anna’s deep-seated issues with Fates.

  Both Dracae needed a good healing.

  “Someone needs to care for the cave.” Ladon was full of excuses tonight.

  “Derek will stay in Wyoming. Or Ivan will move in for a few months. She should be back in time for the wedding. Wouldn’t be the first time you’ve had others looking after the cave.”

  Hell, they could find Penny. Andreas could enthrall her to not be a bitch and she could act like a decent human being for the first time since the end of World War Two, but Andreas didn’t mention the possibility. Best not to bring up Penny. Besides, no one knew where she was. After her altercation with Rysa and Ladon, she’d vanished off Dmitri’s radar.

  Which was just fine with Andreas.

  Ladon exhaled a large puff of breath. “Rysa worries.”

  Andreas nodded. “She does.”

  “I have frightened Daisy and the kid, haven’t I?”

  Andreas clasped his friend’s shoulder. “It’s okay. They understand.”

  “Dragon has not compelled me to come in. He spends his days ignoring me and learning physiology.”

  The beasts most often reined in the worst of their humans’ behaviors. “He feels the same need for hypervigilance you do?” This could not be good.

  “Maybe. I don’t know.” Ladon closed his eyes. “If you are here, I feel it safe to go in.”

  Andreas nodded. “I will stay. Your sister and the Tsar will be here later today. You no longer need to worry.”

  Ladon nodded toward the brightening horizon. “The beast will wake mid-afternoon. I should sleep.” Slowly, his lips parted and he leaned toward Andreas.

  Long ago, Andreas tuned a brew of calling scents to Ladon’s melancholy: Hints of ‘aware’ cleared his mind. Large doses of many different types of pain killing scents calmed his diffuse aches. ‘Joy’ tuned to pull to the surface Ladon’s thoughts and memories of good times, of friends and happy dragons. And the many types of ‘love’ the man knew—friends, family, Rysa—made him glad to be alive.

  Ladon breathed it all in. “Thank you,” he said.

  “You are welcome, my brother.” Andreas clasped Ladon’s shoulder again. “Let’s go in.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  AnnaBelinda, the human half of the Dracas, peered at the exit sign. “Here?”

  “Yes.” Her husband, Derek Nicholson, swiped at the screen of his phone. “Then take a right three blocks up.”

  It’d been half a century since she’d set foot in Minnesota, and never in this part of St. Paul. The app on Derek’s new phone had, so far, provided correct directions. He’d added a GPS navigator to her van before they left home but she would rather listen to her husband’s deep voice and smooth accent than the system’s demonic robot chirping.

  Though the GPS didn’t whine the way the phone did.

  About three weeks after Rysa healed Derek, he’d become as sensitive to cell phones and wifi as Anna and Brother. After another month of research, he’d picked out new, quieter phones for them all, and she’d been able to drive from Wyoming to Minnesota without too much of a headache.

  Her Dragon crouched low enough in the back of the van so that the road’s other drivers couldn’t see her, but it meant she couldn’t see out, either. Or move around. So she did her dragon version of pouting—slow patterns glided along her dimmed hide, and she huffed and snorted each time they took a corner.

  Unlike her brother, Anna’s Dragon had never grown accustomed to the vans. Most of their travels had been in Anna’s now-destroyed and much larger vehicle, and had been considerably more comfortable for everyone.

  “We’re almost there.” Derek twisted in his seat and rubbed her crest.

  I know, Dragon pushed. I miss the RV.

  Derek picked up his ever-present hat from the space between the seats and set it on his lap so it wouldn’t be in the way. “The order is in for the new one. They take time to build, especially with the custom cabinetry.”

  Anna took the right onto the city street. You can run the rooftops of the campus buildings when we arrive.

  Dragon snorted again. I want to go to the house. I miss Brother.

  Derek didn’t look up but continued swiping at his phone. “Campus is a couple miles up. Turn north on Cleveland Avenue.”

  “Your brother is asleep.” Anna stopped at a streetlight. “Rysa’s text said he’ll wake up in an hour or so. Andreas wishes to talk to us, so we go to campus first.”

  “We’re going to give them a ride home.” Derek rubbed Dragon’s crest again.

  Perhaps you should ask Andreas to help you not to complain, Anna pushed.

  Derek snorted. He’d commented on Dragon’s recent immature behavior. Since leaving Portland, she’d been whiny, complete with several Are we there yet? comments anytime they needed to drive more than two hours.

  He’d handled it well. Distracted her with games and crest rubs, understanding that the dragons rarely felt embarrassed about their behaviors and that Dragon still hadn’t recovered her center from the emotional whiplash they’d all gone through six months ago.

  Nor had Anna. And now…

  She pushed the thought away. Now, they deal with Brother’s issues. Now, Dragon needed to act like the good sister she was.

  Dragon ignored Anna’s thoughts. Brother promises to teach me to doctor. She stretched her long neck and snorted again. I will also map for our healer.

  Embarrassed or not, her Dragon was trying.

  “I have no doubt that you will map as well as your brother.” Derek pointed up the road. “Next right. This road runs by the clinic where Daisy works.”

  You will need to move to the side to make room, Anna pushed.

  Dragon again ignored Anna, though a distinct sense of irritation popped along the energy flow they shared, but not annoyance about sharing her space with passengers. This was more an annoyance about needing to deal with yet another set of changes.

  Anna parked the van in the long, empty area behind the Small Animal Clinic and pulled the key from the ignition. Derek slid his hat onto his head, his face the same impassive, ambiguous look of keen observation he showed every time he sorted a situation. She might not like the expression, but she thanked all the old gods for bringing her a man with such a brilliant grasp of politics.

  Derek and Andreas—the two true Seconds of the Legion—would do what they always did: Make sure Anna and Brother survived intact into
another day.

  She and her Dragon could not navigate the world, modern or otherwise, nor could their brothers. They were, if she was honest in her assessments, no less handicapped by the ways of their minds than Rysa was by the ways of hers.

  It is true, Dragon pushed. She rolled over herself to face the door and her massive, strong tail flitted between the seats. I sense two Shifters and a Fate. A pause. I believe they are Andreas, Daisy, and Rysa.

  Massive amounts of information pinged toward the clinic building. Buttressed constructs of concepts and sensory information snapped and crackled in her mind: Smells and the tactile feel of the soft fur of Daisy’s two dogs, Radar and Ragnar, and a complicated and intricately constructed question about Rysa’s stress.

  Derek pushed back his ever-present hat before twisting in his seat. “Whoa, lovely. Are Ladon and Brother-Dragon here?” He patted Dragon’s tail. “I don’t sense them. I thought they were asleep.”

  The ocean-like patterns moving along the beast’s back sped up. No, she pushed.

  “Then who were you blasting?” Derek looked genuinely interested.

  I wished to test if Rysa is able to hear me from this distance. Dragon rubbed the side of her tail against Derek. She gave specific instructions for monitoring your changes. I wish to see if she has changed as well.

  Her handsome husband’s pale eyes flashed when he grinned, and Anna’s recently renewed burning for him flared. The past six months had been a wonder of relearning his body—and his new-found physical strength and stamina.

  But what she liked the most about his changes was that for the first time since 1945, she felt as if she could breathe. A scratch no longer had the potential to kill the man she loved. He no longer walked with pained stiffness because his joints hurt. And he no longer needed the medications or the constant trips into the clinic in Rock Springs.