by Willa Okati
“And you have a better idea?” Irritation crawled under Gina’s skin like an itch she couldn’t scratch. She rolled her shoulders, trying to shrug it off. Being pissed wasn’t going to help. Channeled anger, yeah, there was the good stuff. Controlled rage could help fuel her in the fight. She couldn’t let trivial aggravations crawl across and under her skin like ants. “Dakarai, I know what I’m doing.”
Dakarai stood. He brushed his hands against his jeans, ridding them of the dust his reading had gathered. The calm he radiated irked Gina all over again. God, didn’t the man know what was on the line here? The dragon loathed humanity. Would have wiped it out if he could, like the rest of those “weak” lizards. For some reason -- maybe because there was still a George in the world -- he couldn’t break through completely. But once she was gone, there would be nothing to stop him from raining down destruction on the humans he despised. “Let’s go over it again.”
Gina groaned.
“Gina.” Dakarai stood firm. “How can I help you if I’m not exactly sure of the details? One more time.”
“Fine.” Gina gave in to get him off her back. “You pushed me, and I went through the whatever it is, the gateway, to where the dragon faced me down. Full of ashes from burned-up dragons, rough, cold stone, et cetera, et cetera.”
“And when he first appeared to you, he was as you’ve seen him before?” Dakarai persisted. “Shaped like a man?”
“A man with scales. Blue.” Gina frowned. “I did notice this time his pupils were diamond-shaped, not round.”
“Ah. You see, you left this information out before.”
“One little detail.”
“Every crumb of knowledge helps!” Dakarai snapped. “You demand I take you seriously as a warrior while you train. I require you give me the same respect as your mage. I can’t help you prepare unless I know everything, down to the last scrap. And you, Gina, are the only one to have seen the dragon. All I have is your word to go on. And if you don’t give me everything I need, how am I supposed to help you fight? Hmm?”
Randall stood up from where he’d been sitting on the edge of Dakarai’s shop counter. He moved between Gina and Dakarai, his arms held out to keep them apart. “Easy, guys. Take five.”
Gina glared at Randall. She couldn’t say Dakarai was wrong, just that he was making her squirmy with all his questions. That she was full of fire and ready to go back for a second try. That she wanted to keep the city safe in case the dragon came out of hiding. Dakarai knew all the answers to the questions he asked. She’d told him all she knew.
But careful, careful, careful was his motto, and it had begun to drive her crazy.
Randall didn’t look like he was moving anytime soon. He stood like a tree rooted in the scuffed-up floor of the magic shop, arms outstretched in solid branches. “I mean it. Take five.”
Dakarai eyed Randall, measuring him up, then nodded. He retreated to his desk, where he automatically reached for and then dropped the book on dragon lore, tented his fingers under his chin, and closed his eyes tightly.
Gina huffed and turned her back with her arms folded across her chest. Men! Everything was a problem with a solution. All this logic got on her nerves. Couldn’t they see it was time for action, not contemplation?
Speaking of which, though... Gina couldn’t feel anyone looking at her, but her skin still crawled as if there were thousands of people she couldn’t see staring at her, paying attention. Kind of like when her grandfather -- Grandpa George, of course -- had given her the eye when, as a kid and chock-full of pride, she’d showed him what she’d learned about spears. She shrugged, trying to brush off the sensations, but they stuck firmly in place.
“Okay,” Randall said after Gina and Dakarai had settled into place. He was calm, a mediator between them. “Gina, I know you’re worked up for a fight. I remember all your energy from days gone by. Back then, you hardly ate or slept when you were on the hunt. Everything was about getting to the dragon.” He quieted his voice. “You focused so hard on the thing you were about to fight that you forgot about who might get caught in the crosshairs.”
Gina prickled with indignation, then slumped a little as his words hit home.
“That’s what came between us in the first place,” Randall went on. “Rushing in headfirst spun you into a life as ‘Mary.’ We can’t let that happen again. You are who you are. Who you need to be.”
She heard the soft pad-pad of Randall’s gym shoes walking up behind her. A big hand came to rest between her shoulder blades and flexed its fingers. “You don’t have to prove anything to us. We’re on your side.”
Gina lifted a hand to pinch at the spot between her eyebrows. “I don’t think you’re against me. I... I just wish...”
“We’re taking this seriously.” Randall moved closer, the warmth of his chest spreading over her back. “It’s not just your legacy, you know. It belongs to all three of us. We have to work together as a team.”
“I was,” Gina protested.
Randall slowly enveloped her in an embrace, arms circling her waist. Gentle as a lamb, big as a bear, stubborn as a goat. “No. You were throwing commands around like we were supposed ask ‘how high’ when you said ‘jump.’ That’s not working together.”
Frustrated tears stung at the edges of Gina’s eyes. She dashed them away, aggravated with herself for acting so... God, this wasn’t a movie where she was the fair maiden tied to the railroad track while Snidely Whiplash twirled his mustache. She was the hero riding to the rescue.
But if she were being honest with herself, she couldn’t call Dakarai and Randall “sidekicks.” They were a part of this. She might be the pointy end of the stick, but they were the magic and the strong arms behind her thrust and parry.
“Okay,” she said. “I give. I’ll dial it down from eleven. Good enough for now?”
Randall hugged Gina closer and pressed a kiss to the back of her neck. “It’s a start. Don’t go anywhere, okay? Dak’s next on my hit parade.”
Gina snuffled. “Since when did you get so smart?”
“Since I learned, the hard way, what a dragon could do to people.” Randall didn’t raise his voice or say it accusingly, but the dart went straight to Gina’s heart. She shuddered at the pinpoint accuracy, but held on firm.
The warm, comforting arms around her slowly withdrew. Randall kissed Gina again, this time on the top of her head, and then backed away.
“Dak?” Randall was still quiet, calm, the eye of the storm swirling around them. “You ready to listen to me?”
Gina couldn’t help turning around to watch the two lovers. She couldn’t stop herself from thinking of them as such, with herself the third wheel along for the ride -- and God, that stung.
Why? Did she actually think the three of them were still going to be a thing -- temporarily or permanently? -- if the dragon was done for?
Her hand clenched around an imaginary spear. No. Not if. When.
Randall was different in his approach with the other man, kneeling in front of Dakarai. He tapped at the mage’s knees, prodding them apart until they bracketed Randall’s broad shoulders. Randall circled Dakarai’s ankles in a loose grasp, probably just letting the man know he was there. Grounding him.
“You okay?” Randall asked, face to face.
Dakarai hesitated. Emotions twisted across his face, annoyance chasing doubt chasing worry chasing anger, over and over again. “She’s impossible,” he said at last. “My father, and my father’s father, both of them warned me about the Georges when they were in a temper. I never thought, though, that she’d be so... difficult. So stubborn.”
Randall thumbed the bony part of Dakarai’s ankles. “Not to be sexist, but is it because she’s a woman? A Georgina, not a George?”
“What? No. God, no. She could be a hermaphrodite for all that gender matters,” Dakarai protested.
“I don’t think so. Face it, Dak... you tip pretty hard to the 'gay' side of the Kinsey scale. It’s not just the need to get
all your magic right. It’s your attraction to Gina that’s got you worked up. And I’m okay with how you feel.” Randall’s hands slid further up Dakarai’s legs. “You love her. You still love me. I love you both. Nothing has to end. Things are just going to shift.”
Gina’s eyebrows went up. Dakarai had told her she had his heart, but... love? Great sex, sure, but real, actual love? Last time she’d checked, quick trips around the world didn’t equal deep, meaningful connections with guys. But was it possible...?
Dakarai grasped Randall’s shoulders. “I never wanted anything to come between us,” he said hoarsely, the usual calm preciseness of his voice slipping. “Not a man, not a woman...”
“Not a dragon?” Randall rubbed Dakarai’s calves. “We can’t control everything, Dak. Not even magic keeps things in line. In everything that goes down, we deal with what we can. For you, that means teaching Gina how to defend herself. But that’s only one part of it. The rest means appreciating her as a woman -- and not a threat.” He kissed one kneecap. “Can you do what I’m asking?”
Dakarai looked lost for words, but caressed the top of Randall’s short black hair. His fingers sifted through the strands as if through wheat grass. “At the risk of repetition, when did you get so smart?”
“With you?” Randall chuckled. “Practice.” He let go of his soothing grasp and slapped Dakarai’s thighs before scooting over and to a side, out of the way. Not touching, but still reassuring and solid. “We’re okay now. Or we will be. You two, work together. But remember, I’m watching you.”
Gina couldn’t help cracking a smile. Looking at her face, Dakarai grinned as well.
“We were rather going at it like two tomcats on a fence, weren’t we?” he asked, clearly amused.
“Claws out and spitting mad.” Gina decided she’d be the first to close the distance between them. “Randall’s right. About everything. I’ve lost sight of the small things because I was too focused on the big picture. You lost track because you were intent on the little stuff. Okay, not so little. I mean, you’re going along having a great time with the love of your life, and here I come. Big shock, huh?”
Dakarai stood and extended his hand. “Very big. But we’ll cope.” When their fingers met, his were cool and dry. “Perhaps we should start with something besides dragons and magic.” He pulled her closer.
Startled, Gina went. She slipped into Dakarai’s arms, her breasts pressed up against his chest. He gave a small shiver -- appreciation, apprehension? She couldn’t tell. Her own heart rate, which had slowed down after the stick exercise stopped, began to speed up.
“You sure you want to do this?” Gina lifted her arm to touch one of Dakarai’s soft curls. “I mean, I think I know what you have in mind. But you don’t have to.”
“Nothing’s forcing me. But I want to.” Dakarai swallowed, his Adam’s apple jerking. He licked his lips. “Would it be such a hardship?”
“No.” Gazing up at the mage’s lean face, Gina realized she’d fallen for him somewhere along the way. He wasn’t Randall, but he’d worked his way into her heart.
“Then I can...?”
Gina nodded. “Kiss me.”
Dakarai lowered his head and lightly placed his lips over Gina’s. She waited, not moving, wanting to see what he’d do next.
The pressure of his mouth increased. He tilted slightly to the left, sealing his lips more tightly over her own. With a deep breath, Dakarai opened his mouth and tentatively flickered his tongue over the seam of Gina’s lips.
She opened for him, letting his tongue in to play. He tasted of the ginger beer he’d been drinking, spicy and sharp. When he nibbled at her lower lip, Gina moaned softly and fell hard against his chest.
God, this was good. And strange, considering all they’d done together. How weird that a simple kiss could feel so new and oddly exciting. But then, Gina reasoned, what had happened before was crazed lust or the three of them working against the dragon’s attacks. Damage repair.
This was different. Just her, just Dakarai. And there was something between them. Not just the sparkle of magic that accompanied everything Dakarai did, but a thrill of chemistry uniting them at the joining of their mouths. Gina moaned again, feeling her nipples begin to harden. She could feel Dakarai’s cock stir.
She wondered which of the two of them was more taken by surprise.
All too soon, or so it felt, their lips parted. Dakarai’s eyes were dilated as Gina gazed into them. He trembled once, then gained control of himself and nodded. “You see what you do to me.”
“I do.” Gina stroked his face, amazed and wondering at the way he automatically leaned into her caress. “Think we can handle it?”
“We can but try.” Dakarai covered her hand for a brief moment. When he let go, he offered her a smile and then stood back, but kept a hold on her hand. “Let’s go back to the dragon. Calmly, this time.”
“Does that mean the books?”
“I’m afraid it does.” Dakarai looked apologetic. “It really is true: the more I know, the better I can help you.”
“Okay. You got an extra chair around here? If I’m going to be studying, I’d rather not stand.”
“Afraid not,” Dakarai apologized. “But I could make one.”
Gina blinked. “You could?”
He gave her a lopsided grin. “I am a mage, after all. Do you trust me?”
Gina knew he meant more than with the chair. She inclined her head. “Go ahead, Dak. Do your worst.”
Dakarai tented his fingers again and stared hard at an empty spot near the desk. There was a strange sound, like two sheets of sandpaper rubbing together, and a simple wooden stool materialized into solidity.
“Good job,” Randall said warmly. “But he’s had practice. You can’t imagine how many times we got caught without lube.”
Gina cracked up. “Pays to be prepared, boys. The way you two are, one of you should carry at all times.” She rapped the surface of the stool with her knuckles. It felt firm and looked like something you’d buy at a retail chain. “This’ll work.” She sat down. “Okay. What do you want me to do?”
“Something we should have started with in the first place, only I was too worked up to think about it. I blamed myself for thrusting you into the dragon’s plane,” Dakarai admitted. “By the bye, I think I know precisely where that might be now. It’s a shadow land, not precisely physical or ethereal. An in-between place. There are plenty of them, though in these modern times, few know they exist, much less how to get in. They’re secret. They’re safe. That which hides them is called a ‘reality veil.’ They provide easy access to any world someone might want to plunder. It would make sense for the dragons -- those our current foe defeated, and himself -- to make a home there. However, if a mage knows what he’s doing, he can find a way in. If you know what you’re looking for, or who, it’s easy to find the path you need, be it through your mind, Gina, or through a mage gate of sorts.” He tugged his earlobe. “I must remember that,” he said thoughtfully. “It could be useful knowledge. I had located your essence and was struggling to pin down your location to come and get you--”
“While I was yelling for spears and acting like a--”
“A general?” Dakarai gave her a sideways look. “We can take care of this now, though. Here.” He handed her a pencil and, after a quick rummage through a desk drawer, pulled out a sheet of what looked like vellum. “Draw what you saw.”
Gina hesitated. “I’m not an artist. On a good day, I can do stick figures.”
“You’re forgetting the magic again. I’ll guide your fingers as your brain recalls the details.” Dakarai wrapped Gina’s hand into position around the pencil. “Try.”
It was one of those “trust or don’t trust” moments, and Gina knew she had no choice. It was her mage’s call. She summoned up the memory of the dragon looming over her, starting with the spear thrust into his belly, and began to sketch.
“Whoa!” Her hand had moved to create basic lines, but a f
inely detailed rendering emerged.
“I told you,” Dakarai enthused. “My magic serves as a guide to the art. As you remember, the details become clearer.” He focused on the emerging shape of the dragon. “This is the beast’s true form, not the mimicry of humanity you’ve said he normally wears?”
“Yeah.” Gina sketched on. “What’s with his charade, anyway? He hates humans. The guy spits more insults than a talk show host. Why would he disguise himself to look like one of us?”
“To make you think he’s weaker than he really is? To take you off your guard?” Dakarai suggested. “Or perhaps he’s bragging with the appearance he takes. His natural shape would be that of the beast. Mage lore, which he would expect you to know, tells of transformations taking massive amounts of energy. He’s the last. No tribe to draw strength from, so this is how he displays his might.”
“Figures,” Gina said absently, as she continued to manipulate the pencil. She’d finished the dragon’s thick hind legs, vicious talons and all, then moved up his trunk -- sticking the spear in for the sake of spite -- before heading toward the beast’s front half. His forelimbs were easy. So were the wings, batlike now she’d had a clear view of him. But when she came to the face, Gina faltered.
From his position on the floor, Randall reached out, lending Gina his warmth. “You can do it.”
“This feels wrong,” she admitted. “It’s just this sense of -- I don’t know -- dread, maybe? Like if I finish the picture, it’ll...”
“It should just be a drawing, but...” Dakarai put his hand over Gina’s, stilling it. “This may have been a bad idea. A picture of him could give the dragon focus, give him a gateway through the veil and bring him out into the open.”
Gina’s first impulse was to roll away and drop the pencil. After a moment’s thought, though, she shook her head. “Say you’re right, and everything goes boom after I finish this. We’re working together. We can handle him.”