Dragons and Mayhem

by Blair Babylon

  Sadness touched Arawn’s face, and he looked at the floor.

  That was weird.

  She should lighten this up. There was no reason to be hostile. They might have to work together. “Dude, when I was in high school, I told my boyfriend at the time that I was a witch and could do magic because I thought I was in love with him and we would be together forever—”

  One of his eyebrows twitched downward. “You never mentioned a high school boyfriend.”

  “Well, I couldn’t, because then I would have had to tell you why we broke up, and that was the problem. After I told him about the W-I-T-C-H thing, he got all weird. He broke up with me the next day. And then I had to go before the Coven Council and explain why this random guy at our high school suddenly joined a Christian cult—and I mean, it was one of the weird ones—and started painting crosses on buildings in town with gold paint. He took to standing naked in the middle of the park, praying to the angels, and they didn’t want anything to do with him. Plus, he stole a bunch of holy water and sacramental wine from the local Catholic Church and began throwing buckets of it on people to ‘baptize’ them. The Catholic priests were not amused, especially when one of them got hit with a bucketful of red wine. They called our High Priestess and Priest. The bishop had a meeting with our coven’s Woman in Black, and she was so pissed at me. I had to sign a magical contract saying I wouldn’t tell anyone ever again unless there was a real reason.”

  “He sounds unstable,” he said calmly, without inflection, which almost made Willow crack up. Unstable was about the worst insult possible in Aaron’s—Arawn’s—book.

  “His parents were talking about in-patient psychiatric care, committing him against his will. Eventually, our WIB had to ‘have a talk’ with him, which means they spiked his Red Bull with a forgetting potion. Giving potions to people without their consent is a huge no-no in witch society, but the spells weren’t working. Dosing him with the potion had to go through a big, long chain of approvals. Ethics is a big thing in witch society. An’ it harm none really is a huge part of witch culture. You don’t want your magic to cause karmic rebound. That’s bad. Really bad. You don’t want to do that.”

  Arawn’s full lips relaxed, and he smiled just a little at her. “Indeed, in atoning for my fault, I am trying to avoid karmic rebound.”

  “But this is already over,” she said, gesturing between the two of them. “It’s okay. We’re done. I’m fine. I really am.” She really wasn’t.

  “And yet, I feel the need to apologize,” he said.

  “Well, I don’t feel there’s a need for that at all. I just hope it won’t affect my application process for this job.”

  “Do you want this job?” he asked.

  “Heck, yes. I just returned from an advanced potions course in Paris,” a month before, and it sure wasn’t advanced anything, “and I haven’t found a job yet. I’m so bored.” She was so broke. “I need to get out of my apartment and see people.” She needed money.

  That part wasn’t funny at all.

  “We should take a look at the sea serpents,” Arawn said. “They would be your only responsibility, and they will be a full-time job. They need veterinary care.”

  She was just a potions witch, and not a very good one, at that. “Shouldn’t you get a magico-veterinarian to look after them?”

  “Those are few and far between, and there are none for hire. We’ve reached out to several, but they all own healthy and thriving practices. We were able to find a professor at a wizarding college in New Hampshire to advise you, but he can’t leave his classes to come to the premises.”

  “Okay.” She inhaled hard. “I’ll do my best.”

  His soft smile was kind. “I expected nothing less. Come on. Let’s take a look at those sea serpents.”

  Sickly Serpents

  WILLOW walked next to Arawn as they approached the fountain.

  He was so tall beside her, striding on his long legs, even though she knew he was sauntering so that she didn’t have to skip to keep up. The sunlight played over his smooth, pale gold skin, the sharp planes of his cheekbones, and the square angle of his jaw that didn’t move as he walked.

  They’d stopped by his office, and he’d excused himself for a minute to change into some old, beat-up running shorts and a tee shirt with a shadow of a stain on one shoulder. A white gym bag swung from his shoulder.

  The fountain’s wide basin stretched for almost a city block, and the smooth water didn’t even ripple in the calm, still afternoon. Steel and black-rubber fixtures jutted out of the mirror-surfaced water and sparkled in the bright desert sunshine.

  The pool looked uninhabited.

  Could they have escaped?

  She said, “I don’t see any sea monsters.”

  “They’re lurking,” Arawn said.

  “Lurking? They lurk?”

  “They lurk a lot, right until you’re standing directly beside the fountain. Then they lurk less.”

  “It’s weird that I can’t even see them. The water looks pretty clear.”

  “Dragons are private, shy creatures—”

  Willow laughed at him. “You could have fooled me.”

  Arawn tilted his head, looking down at her from his extravagant height of—she knew from their previous life together—six feet, four inches tall. He said, “I’m not overly gregarious.”

  He was right about that. In public, Arawn projected a measured, calm demeanor wherever he went. When he had been her poli-sci instructor in college, he entered the room, said good morning to the class, consulted his notes and worked through examples on the board, and then asked carefully considered questions to extend the discussion despite all the female undergrads—and a few of the males—practically lying on their desks and rolling around, playing with their hair.

  At college parties, he had found the quieter areas to drink and talk quietly with the other introverts, usually the kitchen or the TV room. That’s where she’d met him again, after her class that he’d taught had ended. Potions witches usually ended up in the kitchen at parties, too.

  She imagined that in business meetings, Arawn must be brisk and efficient. He probably stuck to the agenda.

  In private, though, and by that, she meant in bed, Arawn’s reserve had vanished. It was the one reason she believed a dragon soul might reside in his body.

  She still wasn’t sure she completely believed it.

  Willow shook her head. “Anyway, I thought I was signing on to be a glorified fish feeder, not a sea dragon wrangler.”

  She wished that Arawn would say something naughty like she should be wrangling his dragon, but he wouldn’t say something like that, especially not in a business environment.

  And she wasn’t sure she wanted him to. Her heart still hurt.

  Instead, he nodded. “If the job is too physically demanding for you, let me know. I can hire an assistant to help you transport potions or supplies to the serpents, or we can find more subject matter experts in sea serpent magico-biology to advise you, other than the professor in New Hampshire. Whatever will help you do your job, just tell me.”

  Because, of course, Arawn would be thoroughly professional at his job, and she appreciated him a bit more.

  Arawn dropped the duffel bag he was carrying at his feet and unzipped it. He kicked off the flip-flops he was wearing and tossed them into the duffel.

  Those old clothes he was wearing looked weird on him. Arawn had always taken good care of his clothes, dry cleaning as necessary and pressing his shirts when he’d taught a class. She’d never seen him wear anything that wasn’t sharp, even when he went to the gym.

  Oh, Ladies of Magic. Maybe the sea serpents were prone to hawking up loogies or something when you went near their tank, and she was wearing her best and only business suit.

  She’d have to be wary and jump away before the sea monsters slimed her. There was no way she could afford a new suit.

  There was no way she could afford a new anything.

  Surely, A
rawn should have warned her if she needed to be careful, but she hadn’t brought a change of clothes to the job interview, anyway.

  The wide pool reflected the sunlight, and the sun’s rays warmed Willow’s shoulders.

  Still, nothing moved in the fountain.

  “Are you sure they’re in there?” she asked Arawn.

  He was watching the pond closely, his eyes roving as he scrutinized it. “This is one of the reasons why we’re worried about them. I called the person who was caring for them before. Serpents are difficult to keep contained. They haven’t tried to escape nor tried to eat anyone for a week or more. If we could transport them to an ocean, we would, but they aren’t true sea serpents. They’re apparitions. We’re not sure what the best course of action for them is yet. We are consulting with experts in the field.”

  Willow stared at the calm water. “Wow, sea serpents would be legendary-class apparitions. Yeah, I’m going to need to talk to some people about how to take care of them.” She nodded to herself while staring at the dark water. “Okay. Well. We have sea dragons here, right? I mean, sea serpent-manifested apparitions?”

  Arawn nodded. “They were conjured to eat the algae that had fouled the fountain.”

  She wondered who’d conjured them. Bethany couldn’t have. Her best friends Bethany and Ember both shared the unfortunate magic malfunction that afflicted her.

  Willow leaned toward the retaining wall that came almost to her chest, peeking over it. The water filling the huge basin smelled fresh and clean like rainwater, and the dark stones on the side of the fountain shone in the sun. “I don’t see any algae.”

  “I’ve been told that algae and other biomass had completely encrusted the fountain. Evidently, it was a horrific sight with many different species forming a matt and climbing the fixtures. The sea serpents ate the algae and cleaned the fountain, as intended. This is unusual because sea serpents are a variety of dragon, and as such, are carnivorous. They eat fish but not algae, nor any plants at all. Thus, these apparitions may be an unusual manifestation of sea serpents and may require some different care and handling.”

  “Yeah. Conjuring legendary-class apparitions is Master Mage-level magic. It’s impressive work. Whatever your witch’s reasoning for conjuring sea serpents, they sure cleaned the fountain.”

  Arawn nodded. “Again, the casino will pay for any resources you need in this rather unusual case, if you accept the job.”

  Willow lifted her head. “Are you offering me the job?”

  “Certainly,” Arawn said, too quickly, too lightly.

  She really needed the money, but she straightened and turned toward him. “You shouldn’t offer me the job just because of, well, you know.”

  He stared out over the fountain, his hands folded behind his back at a sort of parade rest. “The fact remains that no one else has applied for the position. These serpents require care until they dissipate or we can find another placement for them. If they die, we may end up with six tons of rotting dragon-fish on our doorstep, and such an event would not be conducive for a successful soft opening in one month’s time.”

  “No one else applied?” she repeated, making sure this was the case. She could believe the casino might hire her out of desperation, but she didn’t want them to make the huge mistake of hiring her out of nepotism or if Arawn was trying to get back in her pants.

  He probably wasn’t trying to get in her pants. After all, he’d left her. She had no reason to believe that he regretted his decision at all or that anything had changed.

  He shook his head. “The ad was circulated in the usual places, but no one else has evinced interest.”

  That sounded as fishy as the sea serpents that were supposedly living in the fountain.

  “Well, I’ll have to do my best, then.” Willow steeled herself. Her friend Ember had been on this positive mental imagery thing lately, and Bethany had bought into it. Bethany had gotten a job and had been doing great before her new husband had whisked her off to a European honeymoon. She said she’d used her apparitions to clean the entire hotel and casino, and the angel investors had dumped their money in right on cue.

  Wait, apparitions.

  Had Bethany conjured legendary-class apparitions?

  Nah. She would have said something to Willow and Ember, if only to give them hope that they wouldn’t be total screw-ups forever.

  But one thing was obvious: Willow needed to change her mind and change her life. She needed to tell herself that she could do these things and have enthusi-usi-usi-asm instead of droopy-butt dread about everything.

  Willow sucked in a deep breath of the dry Nevada air. “I can do this. I can figure it out, and I can do this!” She slapped her hand on the top of the retaining wall for emphasis, sending a sharp crack through the stone and over the water.

  “Willow, no!” Arawn shouted and grabbed her around the waist, yanking her away from the fountain.

  As she stumbled backward with Arawn’s strong arm around her, a breath of his warm, intoxicating scent floated in the air around her face. His hard body, dressed in practically nothing but thin cotton, wrapped around her as he tackled her backward.

  A snake-like dragon-head erupted from the fountain, towering above them like an enormous palm tree, its black frills standing out from its scarlet face.

  Willow’s back slapped the cement. Arawn followed her down, his bright blue eyes wide as they fell, his blond hair flopping over his forehead. His lips were an inch from hers as he held himself off of her with his strong arms on either side of her shoulders. One of his thighs wedged between her legs, grinding against her in a manner he surely didn’t intend but that sent a flush of heat through her body, nevertheless.

  An odd mental image of her grabbing his old, white tee shirt with both her fists and yanking his mouth down to cover hers—the familiar softness of his lips moving on hers just before parting and the warmth of his tongue stroking hers—filled her mind.

  Her hands slipped to his broad shoulders without her even thinking about it, touching the strong, round muscle through his shirt.

  The sea serpent roared again.

  Arawn twisted under her hands, looking back. He leaped to his feet and stood with his legs braced over her.

  Willow scrambled backward, pushing against the summer-hot cement with her palms and feet and looking around Arawn at the sea serpent.

  The giant reptile didn’t roar or spit fire. It just stood up in the water, staring down at them. The ruffled gills fluttering down its side had a distinct greenish tinge.

  It blinked its black eyes that shined like glass in the sunlight and retracted its lips to bare serrated, dagger-like teeth.

  Even through her terror, even though the fearsome beast was looming over them and about to strike, Willow evaluated the serpent’s limp, hanging tendrils, its dull color, the missing scales on its head and neck that revealed raw flesh, and its thin neck.

  Oh, no. This serpent was in bad shape.

  Arawn flung his arms and fists wide, threw his head back to turn his face to the sun, and exploded.

  Willow gasped.

  Arawn’s body unfurled as she crawled back from the fountain, expanding like a boiling gas cloud and forming into a gigantic, black dragon between her and the sea monsters, greater and taller than even the serpents, and he blasted a roar like the cacophony of a thunderstorm crashing with rage. He was taller than the first three stories of the casino, at least forty feet tall and probably more. His skin was glossy black and shone in the sun, almost like it was encrusted with black glass.

  She scrambled to get away from his feet, lest he step on her with one of his feet as big as a car, impale her with his massive talons, and smash her like a moth.

  His leathery wing swept back and folded around her, tumbling her on the warm cement, and she grabbed the black dragon’s tail to keep from being flung across the ground. His wing hovered over her like a conical black tent, shielding her.

  Under her hands, the hubcap-sized, armo
red plates running down the dragon’s spine to the tip of his tail were smooth as obsidian and sharp on the edges. “Ow!”

  Blood ran down her palm.

  The smaller protrusions lining his back weren’t as sharp, but were instead more bony.

  Willow peeked out from under the dark skin of his wing.

  The scarlet sea serpent reared back, readying itself to strike.

  It swayed and caught itself before it fell sideways, blinking, and it closed its mouth and swallowed.

  Sympathy washed through her for the poor thing. It was hungry and sick.

  Two more serpents reared out of the fountain, swaying as they opened their cavernous mouths filled with dagger-like teeth. One was orange and green, while the other was dark blue with a mane of golden tentacles.

  The other sea monsters didn’t look vicious, either. The blue one lowered its snout, looking oddly forlorn for a terrifying mythical creature with a reputation for chomping ships in half and swallowing sailors whole.

  The red dragon in the middle undulated, a belch running up its long neck and puffing out of its mouth with a gaseous fireball that burned with an unusual bog-like stink.

  The poor babies.

  The orange one drew itself up straighter in the pool. It screamed a wan blast of fury—more like pitiful pique, really—and its rotting breath washed over them.

  Beyond the three giant monsters screaming and gathering themselves to lunge at her, the pool bubbled and thrashed with yet more of them, hiding under the water.

  The red, center dragon burped again, its black eyes bulging slightly.

  A larger bulge rippled up its throat, heading toward its mouth.

  Willow tucked in under her dragon’s wing and wove her body between the black plates on his back. His skin was soft between his armored spine plates. Warmth emanated through his skin, like fire burned deeply within his flesh.

  Through a gap between the dragon’s wing and powerful hind leg, Willow could see the red serpent, still holding itself upright and ready to attack.