by Livia Quinn
The dragon carefully lifted his huge foot out of the water. One set of claws cradled two ends of a human bone, snapped in half.
He sighed, and shifted.
Zeus, but he was beautiful. I’d always admired his superb conditioning, his powerful legs and perfectly defined abs, gained from intense training for the rigors of G-forces. Montana had dubbed him Six-packs after our first meeting, but that body had nothing on this one. I guess it came with being a dragon. I liked it. It was a good thing we were alone, or nearly ‘cause he wasn’t wearing anything.
Jack’s gaze traveled over my shoulder and with his lids drifting down in a pointed sweep of his fine nude form, he speared Conor with his Navy Commander look. “Can’t we do something about this?” By this Jack meant that every time he shifted back he was left naked as the day he was born. Which was weird because when Conor shifted, his wings and humongous black dragon seemed to funnel down into this dark knight, fully dressed in metal boots, belts, cuffs, flowing samurai pants and most impressive, the big shiny swords. The only dragon parts that remained were the dragon skin tatts across his shoulders.
When Jack changed, on the other hand, there was this shower of bright glimmering sparkles kinda like a Disney dragon and then there he was in his natural glory. And baby, Hugh Jackman had nothin’ on Jack’s glory.
He’d never been oversized, maybe a forty-two tall. Now he’d split the seams on a forty-four suit. But he was also taller, though the humans probably wouldn’t notice, and his chest and biceps strained his very skin. The corded muscle twitched as he stepped back from the edge of the water.
Conor answered him, “Aye, mon, we may have to get ye a valet.”
A valet? Huh?
“How aboot this?” Conor waved his hand toward the only tree on the bank, a tall thick cypress with broad rusty branches. There was movement at the base of the trunk and I had to look closely to make out the figures running toward us—ten tiny pink bodied beings, nude from head to foot, their little legs moving in tandem as they carried what appeared to be a green duffle bag on their shoulders. They looked like pallbearers at a funeral and made little squeaking sounds which might have been “hut, hut” or just labored breathing. The duffle was twice as big as all of them put together.
Jack stared down in open mouthed disbelief as the little guys stopped in front of him and like a team of professional baggage carriers sent the bag soaring a whole…four inches. It rolled onto its side at Jack’s feet. The “men” stood proudly, staring up at him, hands on their hips. They were so close to each other I wondered if they could be attached like paper doll cutouts.
“Who are they?” I snickered.
Conor said, “The Fairy Troupe. They are auditioning for a…” he looked at Jack, “…a temporary position as Jack’s valet.”
Jack pointed at the little fairies. “This is your idea of a valet?”
Conor cocked his head. “Weel, there’s one advantage. You could pack the wee men in with yer clothes.”
I knew what Jack was thinking about the tiny naked beings carrying his duffel on their collective shoulders with their faerie equipment dangling in plain view. He said, “They kind of defeat the purpose don’t you think? I could hardly have them deliver my clothes in front of Jordie, or any human for that matter.”
Conor merely grinned and raised a crisp black brow. “Aye, but it will be a challenge indeed to find a faerie who prefers clothing.”
“You’ve got that right,” Jack said.” Since he’d started encountering the fae, Jack had come to the conclusion that if the being was nude in public, it must be a faerie. So far, he hadn’t been wrong once. Jack reached in to the duffel for his phone and punched a number, his light green gaze on mine, expression unreadable. “Ryan. I need you to come to Grande Colline, two miles north of Hwy 16, take the farm access road over the levee to the river side. And call the medical examiner. I found some human remains in the backwater. They’re not that old.” He shook his head, “No, just one so far, but I’d bet there’s more.”
His eyes caught mine and he turned his back. What did I do? “I’ll be here.” Laser focused, like his handle, Jack asked Conor, “And what happens with the observers when I shift and ten more naked guys run out to deliver my clothes?” I took him to mean the solution would be worse than the problem.
“We’ll work on it, aye?” The troupe ran off, their tiny pink cheeks shining in the morning sun. Conor scrubbed his whiskered chin with his fingers while Jack dressed. I just watched.
My bad. What was I supposed to do? It had been months since we’d made love and I wanted him right now more than I wanted anything.
Jack knelt and studied the bones for several minutes, and I realized that after months of not showing any interest in his job, or Destiny, or me, Jack was suddenly acting like a sheriff again. He looked up at Conor who asked, “Shall I bring Montana?”
Jack shrugged, another gesture that was becoming way too familiar. Before his change, he might’ve been accused of being too rigid, seeing things in black-and-white, going strictly by “the rules” but never would anyone have described him as aloof or apathetic. Now it was his default demeanor.
“The ME will probably catch a ride over with her and Rafe,” Jack said. He scowled at me. Was I irritating him? “You’re not working today?” Hmm, sounds like it.
“You’ve lost track of your days, Jack. It’s Sunday. Jordie was worried about you. She just got home from vacation with Jane and Melissa and you weren’t there to meet her.”
That spoke volumes about where he was emotionally. His shoulders slumped. Jordie had always been his number one priority but suddenly he couldn’t be bothered to make sure she got to basketball practice or ready for school to start in September. And he let her go on vacation with her high school girlfriend, Melissa, and her mother, Jane Fortune, the town gossip.
Yep, I had more than one reason to be worried.
Jack hadn’t explained his new nature or in his words “his creature” to Jordie. He didn’t know how. Since he didn’t have the change under control I could understand his concerns about spontaneously shifting into his awesome Olympic nude form—which wouldn’t be good especially if it happened in front of his daughter, or anyone but me. I got that. But Jordie wanted to see her father. She’d been staying with Jack’s parents while he was supposedly away at some anti-terrorism and community interaction school, but she was starting to get suspicious. Jordie is not your typical teenager. She’s an honor student, Destiny’s star basketball player and a future Paramortal. No one’s told her yet.
Understandable. When you’re putting out fires you take the biggest one first.
I didn’t know what Jordie thought about all the things that had happened in Destiny during Chaos—we’d kept her away from most of it—but she’d seen Dylan emerge from the Forge as a puppy at the end of his healing ceremony, and Andy, one of her best friends was a young, mischievous Djinni so she could know everything. Like I’ve said before, there’s a lot of everything.
Destiny is home to many supernaturals—Tempestaeries and Djinn, dragon, now plural, my friend Montana, who is a Dinnshencha and vamp, and others, including Aurora who owns Aurora Borealis, the boutique where Jordie works. I don’t know exactly, but I think Aurora is some kind of seer. You can tell I’m on the upward learning curve in my own Paramortal life. And I mustn’t leave out my family’s familiar, an imp named Marty.
Jack didn’t know any of this until he met me. And given what we know now about Jack, I have to reiterate… why not? If he was a Paramortal, or a dragon for crying out loud, someone around here had to know. And did they have an idea what Jordie was?
“Earth to Tempe,” said a sarcastic Jack.
“What? I was just thinking,” I said.
“I could see the smoke from here,” Jack said. Was that a joke? Zeus. He almost smiled… that was probably wishful thinking. He repeated, “What did you tell Jordie?”
I sighed, “I didn’t tell her anything. You have to explain
your absence to Jordie. It’s been months since you’ve seen her.”
He stopped, hands on his hips, staring at the horizon as if the rising sun held answers he couldn’t seem to find within himself then blew out an exhausted sigh. I risked crowding his space to place my hand on his arm. He tensed but didn’t pull away. “This isn’t like you, Jack.”
He shot a sideways glance at me. “Well, I’ve never been a—”
“Say it. It’ll help.” I couldn’t hold back a smile. “I’ve got you. Repeat after me…” He grit his teeth and glared down at me. “Come on. Say it, ‘I’m… a… dragon’.” I grinned and squeezed his arm. “You can do it.” He shook his head, his eyes going past me to Conor who hadn’t breathed a sound.
Finally his shoulders sagged in resignation and he exhaled. There was a shift in his expression. “I’m… a—” his head did an involuntary shake.
“Great Aunt Hera’s brassiere, Jack!” Had he never said it out loud? “You’re a dragon for Zeus’s auntie’s sake. Say it fast if you have to, but get it over with. I’m.…”
“I’m a dragon.” He blurted. “There. Are you both satisfied? I’m a worthless earthbound girly dragon.” Girly? “Big friggin’ deal. I can’t fly. I can’t breathe fire. Can’t show my face or dragon in public. I can’t be a sheriff and what am I supposed to tell my daughter?”
Well! The dam had finally broken. I understood his dilemmas.
“Ach!” Conor said finally. “You are still the sheriff of this village and you are not a worthless dragon. Just a verra, verra impatient one.”
He was right about that. Man or beast, Jack was true to himself, and his first concern had always been Jordie. “One step at a time, Jack. I think you’ll find you’re not giving your daughter enough credit. She’s not your baby girl anymore.”
As he turned away I felt another rip in my heart when I saw the tears glistening in his eyes. My hero, the devoted father and fearless ex-Navy pilot, and now a fearsome dragon—was afraid.
Chapter 3
“Do I look like a bilge pump to you?”
Tempe
Conor’s eyebrow rose. “I hear the medics.” I didn’t hear anything, but sure enough as Jack rose, the ambulance drove down the gravel road onto our side of the levee, red lights flashing.
“I’ll be back,” Conor said and he vanished. Like…he was there one minute and then…not. I glanced at Jack, “Did you know he could do that?” Whether he did or not, he said nothing. He was looking toward the top of the levee at the approaching ambulance bouncing along the rutted gravel road. It pulled onto the grass near us and I saw Montana through the passenger window. Conor suddenly appeared in my peripheral vision and strode toward them as the vehicle came to a stop and the side door opened.
Jack watched, sunglasses hiding his expression as Montana and her partner, Rafe, unloaded the gurney from the back of the truck. A slender older man with wire rims stepped out and grabbed a black bag from inside. He took stock of his surroundings before walking toward us. It was Dan Thorpe, the ME who had worked with Jack last Spring, examining and testing several supernaturals, including Jack’s ex—Georgeanne.
He stopped when he reached us and stuck out his hand. “Jack. It’s good to see you. I heard you were out of town at some kind of school.” The same story we’d told Jordie had been circulated round town to keep it simple.
Jack took Dan’s hand and said only, “I’m back.” A fortuitous word choice, I thought. Did he mean back in town, back to work, or that my Jack was back? I was pretty sure that wasn’t the case… yet.
“Where’s the deceased?” The ME asked.
Jack made a half turn and pointed at the large puddle to his left created by his big dragon foot. We knew this but to Dan it looked like just another pool of backwater created from the recent rains. He knelt by the puddle working his way toward the pieces of one exposed bone. After examining them for several minutes, he straightened, “Damn. It looks like someone ran over them with a bulldozer.”
Jack asked, “Postmortem?” I laughed covering it with a fake cough receiving a glare from Jack. “Show some respect for the victim, Ms. Pomeroy.” Zeus, he was good and I glimpsed a touch of humor in his eyes.
Dan said, “Given the condition of the remains, and all this backwater, I’m going to need more equipment and different tools.”
“What equipment do you need exactly?”
Dan stroked his jaw and made a list, “A pump to displace the water away from this area for probably fifty feet. We’ll start with that. Maybe we’ll get lucky and all the evidence will be contained here. I have to go back to my office and get some suitable clothing, waders and tools.”
Rafe said, “I’ll run you back to town.”
Jack said, “Dan, if you’ll cordon off the perimeter where you want it, I think I’ve got a pump in my car.” Then his eyes cut to me. He wasn’t serious…
“Where is your car?” asked Dan.
“Uh… down the levee a piece. Tempe and I were walking when we spotted that bone near the bank.”
That was such a lie but the humans must be protected at all costs. It was part of the Paramortal banner—Don’t let the mere-mortals see your magic! It had also been Jack’s mantra since he’d first discovered there was more to Destiny than he’d… hoped. If I wasn’t mistaken, I was fixin’ to be called upon for some moisture manipulation.
Rafe made a u-turn down the side of the levee and left. We waited until the sound of the truck’s engine could barely be heard. Conor didn’t bother to remain aloof when it was just the four of us. He took Montana in his arms not caring whether we watched or not and gave her a deep ardent kiss as if he hadn’t seen her in days. Not since their morning tea at least. I cast a glance at Jack, sadness a heavy weight in my chest.
Jack crooked his finger at me. It was too much to hope that he wanted to lay some of the same action on me. Sure enough, he walked about twenty feet the other side of the body and said, “Can you clear this water out of here?”
My brows rose and I put my hands on my hips. Really? Not even a Please, Tempe? “Do I look like a bilge pump to you?”
He did laugh then, but I didn’t see the humor. Suddenly I was furious. I considered refusing. I should, I really should and I would. Next time. But the fact that he was impatient and wanted to get started investigating this tragedy was a step in the right direction. As stubborn and as bossy as he could be, I welcomed that.
“I might help you out. This one time,” I added narrowing my eyes at him. “But you’ll owe me.”
I could almost see his dragon face as those silvery eyes flashed. “Fine. Do it. Just try not to disturb the body.”
“Says the man—the dragon—who stomped on the evidence with his big clumsy feet,” I retorted.
“Okay. Quid pro quo. Now what are you going to do—spin up a whirlpool, tornado, inhale the water and spit it out somewhere else?”
I gasped, “Are you kidding me? That’s slimy nasty, foul backwater. I suggest you hold onto that tree, or do your dragon thing.” I closed my eyes. Menori was happy. Unlike countless times before when I didn’t know what would happen and needed emotion to even stir a breeze or zap a door lock, she was part of me now. We worked in sync.
I called the wind, feeling the breeze across my face first as it gathered and plastered my clothes to my body. I heard the distant wail of the wind as it approached. Sometimes people don’t realize what they’re hearing, until it’s gotten a good head of steam. It’s as powerful as any force in the universe.
We didn’t need a straight-line wind for this simple job, but I figured it was the easiest to explain. This time of year they came out of nowhere. I held my hand out toward the water and guided the wide swath of wind toward the slew, over the berm and out toward the main channel of the river.
“Okay, that’s enough,” Jack called. My eyes popped open again and I saw him clinging to the only tree around for dear life.
I shut off my power and asked exasperated, “Why didn’t you s
hift?” His hat was gone and his hair stuck up everywhere. He released the tree straightening his shirt and nodded past me with a raise of his eyebrow.
Zeus’ hand-me-down knickers! I made a great bilge pump if I did say so myself. The water was gone from the puddle, which was clearly dry. Hmm, maybe I went a bit too far. The ground was dry as well. This would be tricky to explain to Dan.
With my fists propped on my hips I turned to Jack, my expression all innocent-like, “Well, weather is known for being unpredictable.”
He rolled his eyes, “Clearly your weather is.” He waved at Montana. “Let’s get to it. Bring the stakes and we’ll mark the perimeter. Unfortunately, the uh, “backhoe” did a number on the remains.”
Montana looked at Conor who said, “Later, sweet thing.”
Sweet thing? Aww. I looked at Jack who avoided my eyes. Tears clogged my throat and my chest tightened. I hated this distance between us. After all, we’d made it through the Chaos.
Never would I have dreamed that Jack Lang, Mister Normal, Mr. Stickler-for-the-rules, Mr. Black and White would’ve adjusted so quickly to the shocks that hit him one after another but he had. He’d stood with Destiny, its supernatural citizens and me, then professed his love for me. We’d made love the morning after the Para-moon and it had been magical… apparently in more ways than one because that night Jack had become a beautiful shiny dragon.
And freaked. Thinking about it now, I realize that’s when everything changed.
When the M.E. returned he came equipped with waders, long rubber gloves, boots and buckets to sift through the watery grave and collect the victim’s remains but what he now needed was a pick and archaeological tools. He stood gawking at the dry brittle gumbo and the surrounding landscape.
Okay, I’d gone a little overboard with my drying wind. Menori and I were still getting a handle on the control panel of our storm machine. On a scale of one to ten where I was a minus five when Jack met me, I was now a proud two point five. I know, not much to brag about but I’m young in Paramortal terms.