Cerulean Magic: A Dragon Mage Novel

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Cerulean Magic: A Dragon Mage Novel Page 18

by Aimee Easterling


  “So we’ll take him with us when we go,” Sabrina replied, raising her voice just enough so the words carried out across open water to her dragon’s ears. Unsurprisingly, Nicholas felt no need to shift and argue. Instead, he nodded briefly before turning toward the Intrepid and carrying the teenager away from the location of his almost-death.

  Only when Edward and Nicholas were both standing on the distant airship’s ramp in human form did Sabrina force politeness back into her voice. “We’ll take him with us...assuming you don’t object, that is,” she added, even though she had no intention of calling her dragon’s distressed passenger back.

  “He’s an orphan. No one will miss him,” Walter responded with a shrug. Jerking his chin at a lackey who’d been standing unobtrusively in the shadows, he ordered, “When the dragon returns, show him to the dining hall.”

  “Yes, Lord Atwater,” the guard agreed.

  Then Uncle Walt was leading her back into the pod and through a maze of living spaces and kitchens and workshops in silence. Only once they neared the massive dining hall did the older man speak again at last.

  “You’re nothing like your father,” he murmured almost too quietly to hear. “I hope you’re a Fairweather where it counts.”

  Uncle Walt didn’t seem to expect a reply, so Sabrina didn’t offer one. But the tension that had filled her ever since she’d stepped off her ship eased ever so slightly.

  Because being nothing like her father was the greatest accolade she’d ever received. Even if Uncle Walt had meant the words as a slight, Sabrina was honored by the comparison.

  Chapter 29

  Unlike the rest of Raft City, which had grown and changed over the intervening years, Walter’s dining hall was exactly as Sabrina remembered it. The chamber bobbed half in and half out of water, allowing the captain to catch a reassuring glimpse of her airship hanging full-ballooned and beautiful in front of the setting sun. Then that view was blocked by a tremendous pair of wings as her partner shifted on the balcony and strode through the throng to reach her side.

  “Welcome back,” Uncle Walt greeted the returning shifter before leading the way through a throng of water mages to three empty chairs waiting atop the dais at the back of the room. As they took their seats, a live band began to play at the far end of the hall and one server after another carried long platters through swinging doors to begin the feast. Soon, lobster and sea bass and all manner of delicacies filled Sabrina’s plate, wine flowed freely, and the captain had to place one hand over her goblet time and again in an attempt to keep her wits about her.

  She needn’t have worried, though. Because Nicholas didn’t allow Uncle Walt’s recent villainy to impact his table manners. Instead, the shifter slid around to place himself between Sabrina and her host then proceeded to engage Raft City’s ruler in discussions about trade winds and deep-sea storms and how exactly did the latter attract such fine musicians way out here in the middle of the ocean?

  Sabrina should have been annoyed by her companion’s high-handedness. After all, she rather than he made a living bartering wares hither and yon. But instead, the captain relaxed into an evening that might as well have risen whole-cloth out of childhood memory.

  Rather than trying to carry on a conversation with the water mage seated on her other side, in fact, Sabrina allowed herself to focus on the intricate patterns Nicholas was tracing along the underside of her arm. She watched red and blue scarves stuffed into a magician’s fist emerge knotted together into one long purple line. And she remembered similar entertainments that Uncle Walt had put on display for the sake of her father.

  The nights had begun much like this one. But younger Sabrina had inevitably dozed off, head cradled on the pillow of Uncle Walt’s knee while he and her father talked deep into the wee hours. From time to time, she’d opened her eyes and caught sight of barely dressed harem girls swirling together in an elaborate dance, once had woken to find bulbous breasts bouncing above her head as a completely naked woman writhed and swayed in her father’s lap. Mostly, though, she’d just lain quietly and allowed the wildness of Raft City to whirl around her.

  At the time, Sabrina had barely understood her father’s topics of conversation. Still, the strangeness of the surroundings had given those memories a certain vividness that transcended the depredations of time. Sabrina could almost imagine herself back in that setting now, and in response tidbits of long-forgotten dialogue drifted up to overcome the current chatter of the crowd.

  “They’re not worth talking to,” Uncle Walt had complained one evening when she was eleven years old. Crumbs rained down on the little girl’s head and she opened one eye to glimpse a caviar-coated cracker slip between her uncle’s pillowy lips. Immediately, she wrinkled her nose, grossed out by the mere idea of eating fish eggs, then turned her head away to face her father.

  Frank had noticed and responded by smoothing his hand across his daughter’s tousled hair, the fatherly gesture making her smile sleepily and close her eyes back up tight. If Frank thought she was awake, he’d carry her back to the ship to sleep in her own cabin. And while she loved the Intrepid, she didn’t want to leave Raft City. Not quite yet.

  Sabrina had heard Frank’s words, though, before pretend sleep turned into a reality. “You’re right—Aerie dragons are goody two-shoes. But the ones living further west...those might be acceptable allies. Especially now that we have wares sufficiently enticing to turn even a dragon’s head....”

  At the time, Sabrina hadn’t bothered to wonder what kind of goods a dragon might barter for. She’d barely even seen a dragon, just glimpsed one a few times off in the distance as the Intrepid traveled west away from the coast.

  But now her eyes widened as the memory took on a different meaning entirely. Poor Steph had made it clear that Raft City was familiar to her. Steph had also ended up as Gunnar’s unwilling mate.

  Had Frank taken a risk and sold a young female dragon just as he’d bartered away those human girls? And had dear old Uncle Walt been the go-between making that deal a reality?

  If so, then Walter Atwater possessed ties to the very same dragons who currently sought Sabrina’s airship. He had financial motivation to return Steph to her former keepers and even more reason to steal away the female dragonet who would soon hatch out of that hard-won egg.

  Sabrina could only hope that Raft City’s ruler believed her evasions and harbored no impulse to connect with his allies until the following morning. All the more reason to make this supposed honeymoon believable so Uncle Walt wouldn’t question her presence until long after the Intrepid was cleared to lift off.

  ***

  Sabrina’s arm jolted beneath his hand and Nicholas glanced left before returning his attention to the dangerous man who’d been attempting to tease out state secrets all evening long. Luckily, Nicholas had plenty of practice in carrying on a polite conversation while never quite telling the other person what they wanted to hear. The only difference now was that the secrets in question were his own rather than belonging to somebody else.

  His own...and his mate’s. Because Sabrina’s face had paled, suggesting there was even more danger present than he’d previously assumed. And while sitting beside a man he considered an enemy, Nicholas lacked all opportunity to ask her what was wrong.

  Acting on instinct, he rose to his feet, offering Walter an apologetic smile as he cut their conversation short. Then, turning his full attention onto the woman he’d found impossible to ignore even while parrying words with a master, he spoke. “May I have the pleasure of this dance?”

  Sabrina glanced at their host as if asking for permission, but Walter merely mouthed instructions to the band before waving his dinner companions away. “Go. Have fun. You’re only young once.” Then Sabrina was rising, placing her hand in Nicholas’s, and allowing him to pull her out onto the floor.

  The music changed as they drifted across to join the other dancers. The song slowed, turned sultry and sweet like the violin music that had risen from Sar
ah’s ancient record player when she tried to teach Nicholas and his brothers how to waltz. And Nicholas found himself glad that his foster mother had pinned him down to dance lessons when he would have preferred to be riding the thermals in his draconic form. He was glad she’d drilled one-two-three into his head so thoroughly that he rose up onto his toes and moved to the beat even while striding across the open floor.

  Because when he and Sabrina nudged in between a smiling water mage and the latter’s wild-haired partner, Nicholas knew just where to place his hand on the small of Sabrina’s back so two bodies morphed into one. He knew just how to turn his feet so he and Sabrina spun together into an effortless whirl of beauty and grace.

  Sabrina was nothing like the woman Sarah had imagined when she’d chided her dragonets to waltz carefully so they could win her a daughter-in-law. His mother had dreamed of girls she could dress up in flounces and lace, of elaborate weddings like the one she’d never starred in herself.

  In contrast, Nicholas suspected it had been decades since Sabrina last wore a skirt or dress. Her usual captain’s uniform—canvas trousers and a leather jacket—was perfect for climbing the rigging, but it lacked so much as a single flourish to brighten up the dance floor.

  Sabrina’s lips didn’t curve into a smile even when the music began to twine around them. And she didn’t laugh like the nearby women might have done when Nicholas changed the direction of their spin so they twirled yet faster, turning full circles between every set of steps so the captain’s braids stood out from her head like the veil of a bride.

  Despite her lack of visible emotion, though, Nicholas could feel his dance partner’s air currents sipping the first hint of perspiration off her brow...then moving six inches forward to do the same for him. Tiny flames leapt from his skin, dancing down his arms and across her hands, and Sabrina didn’t jolt away. Instead, his brave captain leaned into the fire, her eyes squinting nearly shut with pleasure as air and flame spiraled together into a network of joy.

  No, she wasn’t what Sarah had expected as a daughter-in-law...but Sabrina was perfect for him. Which was why Nicholas forced his mind away from the flirtation of their bodies and back toward the danger breathing down both of their necks.

  It was hard to make himself break the moment, though. Hard to force down the lump in his throat sufficiently to speak. Finally, though, Nicholas loosened his tongue and murmured too quietly for anyone else to hear. “I saw you jump back there. Is there trouble?”

  For a split second, Sabrina’s eyes drifted shut as if she wanted to ignore his words and bask in his flames a little while longer. Then ease fell away from her form as she nodded. “Old trouble, not new trouble,” she breathed just beside his ear.

  To the bystanders, it would appear that she was murmuring sweet nothings. So, to solidify the ruse, Nicholas forced himself to smile. He twirled his dance partner away from him and back, her spine landing perfectly against his palm.

  “Tell me.”

  “I remembered...well, it’s a long story. But I think Gunnar and Walter were trade partners when my father was alive. Allies. Which means trouble for us now.”

  Nicholas’s hand twitched, nearly reaching for his tablet to run a few simulations. Instead, he pulled Sabrina in closer so her chin rested against his shoulder. And he calculated in his mind rather than using his digital crutch.

  Based on the beach-released pigeon’s heading and trajectory, Gunnar would have received the message that they were flying south yesterday. It should have taken another day for the feral dragon to catch up to the spot where Steph dove into the ocean to lay her egg, then the enemy would have spent at least another twenty-four hours following the heading in the message that had unintentionally led him astray.

  That day would be tomorrow...meaning their enemy shouldn’t try to tap into his network until several hours after the Intrepid lifted off.

  Assuming, of course, that Nicholas possessed the entire picture. Assuming that the dozens of secrets large and small that whirled around Sabrina’s ship and Walter’s city had no impact on Gunnar’s approach.

  But as Sabrina’s body melted against his own, her usually ramrod-stiff spine softening as he pulled her in close, Nicholas found himself willing to take the risk. Math suggested they would be safer playing this game of husband and wife for a few hours longer...and Nicholas yearned for the math to be right.

  So he pulled Sabrina closer into his arms, powered down his usual pessimism, and hoped for the best.

  Chapter 30

  Sometime when Sabrina wasn’t looking, the door to the balcony had been thrown open and torches lit along the railing, allowing dancing to spill out into the open air. Wind, cold, freedom. Even after such a short time spent cooped up inside, unfettered sky called with a siren song of need.

  Nicholas was spinning her toward the doorway before Sabrina fully realized the depth of her own yearning. Then she found herself giggling—giggling—as they waltzed together into the open where no walls contained the muggy heat of a hundred dancers kicking up their heels in one small space.

  Outside, a star-studded sky spread above their heads while the gentle lap of saltwater bumped against floats inches from their feet. And still they danced on, until Sabrina forgot they were playing to an audience, forgot they were deep in the heart of enemy territory, forgot she was an airship captain and that the dirigible representing her independence lay just out of reach.

  The wind danced with them too, at first merely fiddling with Sabrina’s braids but then accepting Nicholas as an extension of her body as well. The shifter’s fiery wings emerged in a whoosh of displaced air, sending bystanders scuttling backwards, but Sabrina barely noticed. Because she and her partner were now airborne, perhaps through his magic or perhaps through her own, before anyone had time to complain.

  For another long moment, they spiraled together above the balcony. Then two minds came to the same conclusion at the same instant. To take this dance any further, they needed walls, seclusion, preferably a bed.

  Sabrina’s first impulse was to return to her ship—an easy matter when she was suspended in the air with no obstacles blocking her path. But, glancing down, she caught Uncle Walt’s eyes. “Have fun,” their host mouthed, and Sabrina knew he expected them to partake of his honeymoon cottage instead. So, shrugging, she turned her gaze westward...and found Nicholas’s wings bearing them toward their destination before she even needed to speak.

  They landed on the pod’s rooftop balcony already deep in a heady embrace. Nicholas’s fingers were fire, just barely cool enough not to burn. Flames melted through the elastic ties on her braids, then his agile hands made short work of her captain’s jacket.

  Sabrina hardly noticed, though, so intent was she on the sensation of fiery lips moving across her skin. They pulled at her, sucking, sipping, teasing. And in response, she pressed up against her partner’s hard length, reveling in the sensation of a man just a little stronger and taller than herself.

  Air joined in the seduction then. Gentle breezes slipped in between her braids, pulling intertwined locks free until her hair hung loose and long against her back. And Sabrina shivered, feeling strangely exposed despite having bared not a single additional inch of skin.

  Now, when she was already in too deep to walk away, Sabrina remembered their conversation up on that distant dune. Remembered her fear that letting Nicholas into her body would also allow him into the most secluded reaches of her soul.

  Strangely, the concept of such a joining had transformed from terrifying to awe-inspiring.

  “I....” Sabrina began, wanting to explain the depth of love and bravery that now filled her heart. But words failed to come. Instead, air and fire swirled between them for a long moment, then her dragon responded with a single syllable that still managed to convey more than could be shared by anyone else’s long, flowery speech.

  “You.”

  It was enough for both of them. Because Nicholas understood that Sabrina was finally offering all of
herself. And, in exchange, he accepted her fully for who and what she was.

  For the first time in her life, Sabrina felt truly seen as her deepest, most honest self. Here and now, she wasn’t Captain Fairweather, or greedy Frank’s struggling daughter, or even a wind witch powerful enough to fly the Intrepid all on her lonesome.

  Instead, Nicholas saw Sabrina. Knew Sabrina. And was still there beside her hoping for more.

  For an instant, the intensity of the sharing made the captain second-guess her choices. Maybe she needed to slow things down after all, to take it easy and spend a little more time building infrastructure before she walked across this rickety bridge suspended thousands of feet above a gaping abyss.

  And, to her dismay, the shifter immediately stepped backwards, offering up the breathing room that half of her brain thought she craved. Cold air whirled in to fill the void...and at the same time answered the question Sabrina had been unable to voice aloud.

  Space between herself and her dragon was anathema.

  It was terrifying to lower her shields, to reveal her entire self before someone whose rejection had the power to leave her reeling. But nothing about Nicholas suggested he had any intention of rejecting her. Instead, her companion’s dark eyes glowed like coals just waiting to flare into all-encompassing passion. His body tilted toward her even as he stepped away. And the twitch of his lips suggested he laughed with her rather than without her.

  So Sabrina wriggled out of her captain’s jacket, letting fabric and reservations fall to the ground all in one ungainly heap. Then she reached out and slipped her fingers into Nicholas’s larger hand. “Come downstairs,” she invited. And she led the way below.

  ***

  As soon as they began dancing, Nicholas had lost himself in the moment. Fire and wind and music and movement, but most of all Sabrina’s tantalizing body sliding against his own. Only when the metal hatch slid shut above their heads and closed them into the sub-oceanic pod did he realize that he’d willingly walked into his own worst nightmare.

 

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