Three Little Words

by Tina Glasneck

  It would be good to try to eat real food again instead of these packs of blood substitute that I received through an IV.

  “I keep hearing murmurings about supernaturals going missing. Shouldn’t you be dealing with that?” We’d talked about several things, but not about the thorn in my side. Safety.

  He tossed down the towel he’d been trying to fold, to glance at his watch. “It can be discussed during our nightly run.”

  Since my apartment exploded into pieces, it seemed that running was the answer for everything.

  Racing through a muddy forest with a pack of wolves was not my best idea. The air still smelled of fresh rain. Vampire agility and endurance should have made the trekking through the undergrowth kid’s play, or at least that was what Alistair told me it would be like. I guessed being unfit in my human years made it that I was still unfit. Regardless of what the doctor had said, wheezing was a real thing.

  “You need to hustle.” Alistair turned around and jogged backward, a broad smile lighting up his asinine face. I pumped my arms harder to keep up. Since his transformation—he’d once been a water dragon, and exercised exclusively in the seas, but now he thrived on land, too—he’d taken this new land-lover’s stuff to new heights.

  “No more running in the water?” I threw back at him.

  “Oh, I’m the captain of land and sea. Come on now, keep up. We’re not taking the pups for a walk.”

  Pups, that was a nice way of saying it. In the middle of the woods, at night, a pack of nine wolves chased rabbits for an evening stroll. They were between eighteen and twenty-one when in human form, and tonight, Killian, as the alpha wolf across all packs, took the rear, allowing the pack’s leader, Beau, to lead the pack deeper into the night.

  I could bemoan running for miles, or I could start spouting out facts. Nothing said let’s have fun like facts galore.

  “Did you know that the strongest wolves lead?” I said, holding back any panting, ready to school them all on all the research I’d spent months doing for a still-to-be-written book. We finally bounded over the hill, coming to a shallow valley, where a bog rested to the side.

  “Ha, you saw something on social media again. Spewing lies,” Alistair countered. “You see, dominance in a pack is not always understood to the outside observer. There is not truly an alpha in the wild, as you, a romance writer, has been led to believe by popular media. Usually, the pack would be led by the parents, and in our pack—yes, these are your family members, too—dominance is based on the Order’s hierarchy.”

  “Are you telling me this because you want me to refer to you as my Alpha?”

  “I think I just like it when you use the word, ‘my.’” His gaze grew heavy, and as the sweet scent of cotton candy mixed with elderberry and juniper wafted, my pace slowed. That was magic; the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, and electricity sizzled down my arms.

  We both stopped, the pack continuing. “You feel it, too?” I asked.

  That was when the large oak tree moved, her branch swooped down, and thereon rested a woman, who appeared half-tree, half-human. Her skin was rough like bark, and her hair appeared like thickly wound dreadlocks made from twigs.

  “Dearest Lord,” she said and stooped down before us. “I come in need of your help. You might not hear the earth, but it cries out.”

  I mentally fumbled through my fantasy creature mental lexicon, trying to figure out what she could be.

  I reached down to touch the ground, but unlike the moisture I expected, it was parched, dry, and flaky even.

  “Artemis has sent me,” she said, “as you recently dealt with the problem with Poseidon. There is a nuclear power plant nearby, and it seeps poison into the water, into the ground.”

  A dryad? Bingo.

  “That is really not what I do,” Alistair said. “Sure, I could make a call, but this is a matter for the humans.”

  “All of the earth needs us to stand up for it.” I interjected. Sure, I was sounding like an activist, but to be honest, if a supernatural comes to tell you to get your shit together, then it might truly need your attention.

  “They provide only death and will cause desolation, pure destruction,” the dryad countered. “The water is our blood, the trees, and forests, our lungs, but one natural disaster could mean mass extinction. Will you risk such?”

  “Why have you asked us to intervene?” Alistair asked.

  She raised her hand, and the air glowed and shimmered to reveal a three-dimensional hologram. “I am Draya, and I watch over this forest and these trees. Before humanity, the earth cradled the creatures.” Sure enough, I saw in that hologram everything from mighty dinosaurs to Kraken-like beings. “For the goddess has allowed me to see the future, and in doing so, she tells me that this is patient zero. Bad men, big oil, combine forces with evil, opening a portal.” The image again shifted to this time, looking like a group of white-collared criminals in one of the towering skyscrapers in Manhattan. “In that building, they hold something of power, that if not regained will open the portal, freeing the evil from its chains.”

  She turned her attention to me. “You are the key to this, Leslie of the Order.” She reached out, her finger resembled that of a twig, and scratched my face.

  I flinched as the twig scraped my cheek, and the scent of my blood reached my nose. A child-like giggle burst forth as she licked the twig’s tip. “Oh, this is now a plot twist, and I see why you have been chosen. You are the one who will save us all. The magic of millenia courses through you, promises, oaths.”

  My eyes widened. I hadn’t even finished my new year’s resolution of a run—why did I make resolutions again?—and no matter where I was during the time after that resolution, it hung over my head like a sharp guillotine’s blade.

  “You seem surprised. Have you not yet figured out the truth, my dear? Not everyone who appears like a friend is an ally, and not all who cause chaos are enemies. You must learn to listen to that small voice, and then allow the magic to guide you.”

  “Magic? I’m untrained in such,” I said.

  “Don’t be foolish. You are now of the night, blessed by the moon, graced with gifts bestowed on you by the gods. There is no turning away from your responsibility. Destiny will always find you.”

  I tried to step back. This was getting too serious too quickly. I thought by following the rules that I could keep my head down. I’d had to deal with nefarious creatures, death even. But to be on the front line? I wasn’t ready for that.

  “That is why your goddess requires you to head to the castle, to train, to learn, to be of use. You see, all of those stories of old, the legends passed down through the centuries of creatures—both good and bad—inhabit this world, seeping over from the next, and some seek to find a way to topple the Order and its mighty hold. Both gods and demons alike can do great evil.” She tossed a wooden coin into the air, which I caught. “When you need the dryads, call us, for we shall rise to help smite those who wish our mother great evil.”

  With that, she stepped back off of the path, and up on the bent-down limb, that rose again to the tree’s crown, to then disappear into its folds.

  I turned to Alistair. “Looks like we have plans for the night.”

  “Yes, nothing says world domination like breaking into an office building to lay low white-collared businessmen bent on destroying us all,” he joked.

  “Ohh, a date.” I winked. “I was just thinking at least I could get that Frappuccino.”

  Chapter 16

  Leslie

  Wolf’s Compound

  The Dryad gave a great excuse to make it date night. We’d need to head to the city and look the part. The less who knew about the dryad in the woods, the better.

  Plus, Alistair and I had been dancing this dance since we met: will we or won’t we, and for once, I was letting my libido get me in trouble. Heck, everything about Alistair conveyed power, from his super defined arms and shoulders to his legs. Everything that I’d gotten to see so far
made me want to discover more.

  “I think you need dating help from Claudine. She knows how to get a peacock to defrock.”

  You could say a lot about Claudine, but she had complete agency and knew who and what she was. No one could shame her, and I respected the hell out of a woman who went after what she wanted.

  To be honest, I could learn a lot from Claudine. She’d always been the protected one, the risk-taker. I’d been the one more risk-averse. Heck, I didn’t have my first sip of alcohol until I was twenty-three, after Gran finally sat me down with a bottle of rum and cajoled me with stories of her Prohibition runs.

  To be truthful, this was probably the most brazen I’d ever thought to be: to seduce the dragon. It sounded like a shifter romance novel, and I had no idea what to do.

  “You’ll never get him to agree to this. I know his kind,” Gran began. “Reminds me of that time I was the first mate on my ship, and there he was, Briggs ‘Whistle-Blower’ Hamlet. He was a tricky one, but boy, did he know what to do with his—”

  “Stop, I don’t want to hear it.” I interrupted.

  “I wasn’t going to say penis. That would be Kelton ‘Swab’ Rylan. But that’s another story. Anyhoo, that would be kind of crass of me. No, Hamlet was a eunuch but had the powers of seduction. It was like what you young’ uns call a superpower. His voice would dip low in this seductive twang, and boom—” She clapped her hands. “There she blows—his mouth got us out of a jam or two.” She then winked at me, and I caught my head in my hands. No one wanted to hear about pirate sex.

  “Oh, we had such fun being out to sea. There was this one time—”

  “Gran, really, no pressure here, but I don’t think my telling Alistair stories about your animal sex is going to get him all juiced up for me.”

  “Nah, he’s a man. All he needs is a good gust of wind. But something tells me that he’s afraid of flying you on that pole. You see, I’ve been listening in, asking questions, and since that whole thing between him and Rose went to the shitter, well, celibacy seems to be his game. A man with such a vow is hard to break. I should know. I’ve broken a few.”

  “Vows?”

  “No, men.” She said it with such a straight face that I could only slow blink. My Myrtle wasn’t the kind to not have a story, but who knew that my night out with trying to woo Alistair would start with the topic of pirate sex? Yep, my gran was going to make me a raging alcoholic.

  “Knock, knock.” I heard Claudine saying, entering my chambers before I could say “come in.” She must have known I wouldn’t be doing anything private, either. Hmm, was I really that predictable?

  “Sorry to intrude,” Claudine said, ignoring Gran standing there. Since our arrival at the Compound, and her now seeing Gran, Claudine hadn’t uttered a word to the once-ghost. “Ooh, why are you getting so spiffed up?”

  “I’m hoping to tempt Alistair away from his desk.”

  “Dressed like a schoolmarm? Unless he has a thing for petticoats and lack of skin, I think you need to change. Only you would dress up like Little Bo Peep, thinking that a dragon is going to come looking for his sheep.” She giggled at her joke. I sniffed the air and smelled the alcohol on her. “Got an early start tonight?”

  “Well, considering that nightmares about water and hateful gods plague me, and did I mention mermen”—She visibly shivered—“I choose to keep my demons drunk. Plus, all of the men here are a little too weak for me.” She said it like it was a bad word.

  “Weak?”

  “I’m a lioness toying with gazelles.”

  “More like a honey badger,” Gran snarked.

  “Old woman, I don’t understand your problem with me and my lifestyle.”

  “Woah.” I turned to step between the two. “You two are not going to start fighting in my room. I need help and not for you two to argue. No matter how you feel about Gran, Claudine, she’s still your elder and deserves your respect. And Gran, Claudine’s still adjusting to all of this. Toss her a coin, a life vest if you must, but this is a time to help her.”

  They stepped apart and crossed their arms, leaving me in the middle of the room dressed in a frock that screamed that I was out of my league with Alistair for sure.

  “Well, it makes no difference, but you can’t catch a man like him dressed like that. I’m sure I brought something more fitting that you should be able to wear. If he messes it up, then I get a better version of it.”

  “Yes, yes,” I said with a wave of my hand.

  “I agree, Claudine,” Gran chimed in, “she looks like she’s Mother Goose cosplaying.”

  They both chuckled at that, agreeing about the state of me. “Yes, all she needs is Peep’s Shephard’s staff.” Claudine ducked out of the room, to return carrying a plastic-covered, crimson-colored satin dress.

  “Come now. This dress will make Alistair’s mouth go dry staring at you.”

  It was going to leave me longing for my yoga pants, for sure.

  I quickly unrobed and pulled on the lovely dress.

  “You don’t think that outfit is trying too hard, dear?” Gran asked, zipping me up. I stared at my reflection and inhaled deeply. Sure, I wasn’t one who usually liked stilettos and thigh-high splits in dresses, but this was my attempt. The dress revealed my shoulders, pushed up my boobs like I was wearing the best push-up bra ever, and pleasantly accented my waist and hips. This dress was pure magic.

  “If he likes you, he’d like you wearing your usual yoga pants and T-shirt. Lord knows, he’s seen you looking all homey before.”

  Of course, Gran was right, but I wanted to do something different, something that provided a little more effort.

  “I’m not dressing up for him, but for me.

  “Now, on to your hair,” Claudine said. “You can’t wear this dress and have your normal hair down. No, let’s pin it up so he sees your neck.”

  I wanted to be stunning, and nothing said, “I’m desperate for your touch” like a satin come-hither gown, but then again, all he had to do was taste the air and know that I wanted more than loaded glances.

  After all, if pirate sex was as hot as Gran said, then surely mating with a dragon-shifter would have me seeing fire, too.

  Taking a deep breath, I turned around. This was crazy, but in for a penny, might as well be in for a damn pound.

  Chapter 17

  Alistair

  A gentle knock on his door sounded, and he knew it was her: Leslie. He could smell her skin’s slight jasmine scent.

  But he stayed put at his desk, unsure of what to do.

  There could be no shortcut for this to work out.

  “Enter,” he said and looked up from his paperwork. “You look lovely.” His breath caught in his chest, his lungs burned, unsure of what it meant to breathe. He stared at her, and his heart suddenly throttled, blood rushed through his veins, and he watched the small smile form on her red lips.

  The dress hid nothing from his gaze, but to be honest, he liked her just as well in those tight yoga pants she was constantly wearing. Talk about yoga and downward dog.

  “Well, since we have to be out, I was hoping we could catch that drink tonight? It’s long overdue.” She glided into the room, filling it with her scent. Warmth flooded him, and she took a seat on the edge of his desk, revealing a little bit of her thigh from that long slit.

  “I have the feeling you’ve come to drag me away from my work and the most recent request.” He cast her a hesitant smile.

  “You seem to like being tied up. Work has you completely whipped. The drink will be just a bit of a reward for a job well done.” She then sauntered over to his minibar and poured whiskey into two crystal glasses. “Come on, Alistair.” She placed the whiskey down in front of him. “Don’t tell me I’ve gotten all dressed up for nothing.”

  “It is never nothing. Now, if I were the typical hot-blooded male who you’d set out to seduce,” he raised his glass of whiskey, and drank deeply, “I’d prefer nothing else than to see where this seduction might
lead, but tonight is not one where I’m available.” He felt the air around them change. He’d hurt her unintentionally. “Unfortunately, plans have changed. I must head out, as duty calls, and you can’t come.”

  Her heavy sigh was her response, followed by her placing the untouched tumbler with one-hundred-year-old whiskey on this desk. “There goes my idea of fun.”

  “Fun is not getting me in your bed.”

  She frowned. “Are you telling me you’re horrible, or that you don’t know what sex is? I mean, it would make a lot more sense if you were a virgin if that was the reason why I can’t seem to get close enough to you.”

  He raised his hand. “I prefer to act decently with you, as I’ve seen what temptation does when it is embraced beforehand.”

  “So, let me get this straight. You jumped in bed with some woman way back when, and things fell apart, so you want me not to have a taste test before I buy this dragon, I mean embrace destiny?”

  “Sex only muddles the senses.”

  “I never pictured you for a prude.”

  “I’m not. Just cautious.”

  “Hmm, hurt, you mean.” She sighed, her chest heaving in the barely-there bodice. “But if you keep pushing me away, the only thing you’ll ever have will be cold sheets.” Leslie sauntered out of the room, and he watched her glide, her hips shifting from side to side.

  And watching her leave, no matter how appealing the view, made him wish he could have embraced all that she offered.

  Taking a steeling breath, Alistair stood before his desk, staring at the rising flames in the fireplace. He eased on his red cape, pinning it with the Order’s pendent. Then, strapping his ceremonial sword to his waist, he reached into his pocket and retrieved the rune to travel to the predetermined area, as decided on by the Queen.

  The log on the fire crackled and popped until the fire quickly died, only to roar back to life suddenly. The air now sizzled, and in the room stood his grandmother, Freyja. She moved to his overstuffed ottoman and took a seat.