And Nicholas did trust the boy’s hard work. He’d been willing to take the latter’s experimental pill into his own body the day before, and Sabrina’s recent actions proved that one facet of the already imbibed chemical had panned out as expected. Sure enough, Sabrina’s magic had returned full force...albeit for a limited time.
Still, the magical boost had only been a side effect unrelated to the blue pill’s primary purpose. Or so Nicholas assumed from Zach’s evasiveness during their lab-rat conversation. The teenager had presumably seen good results with significantly smaller dosages imbibed by mice, but he hadn’t taken his experiments any further.
After all, how could anyone ethically analyze a defense against instant death?
By guessing and hoping, Nicholas thought now, half expecting Zach’s magic to travel down the wireless network and squash his life as well as those of the shifters around him. But when the teenager opened his mouth at long last, Nicholas felt nothing. The oxygen in his blood didn’t boil. His lungs didn’t collapse nor did his heart cease to beat. In fact, he sensed no change in his equilibrium at all as the teenager’s strident voice traveled out of Nicholas’s tablet while shifters fell like flies around Zach’s tennis-shoe-covered feet.
“Die,” the boy intoned, repeating the single word a second time for good measure. Then, leaping forward, the teenager caught his sister before Sabrina could tumble out of her former captor’s arms and land on the blazing hot deck.
***
The way Nicholas saw it, Walter Atwater must have harbored a soft spot for his “niece” after all. Because the impending waterspout didn’t materialize while Zach used another of his inventions—an electromagnet hooked onto the end of a long mooring line—to pull the honeymoon pod up out of the depths. The water mage neither threatened nor assisted as Nicholas pushed his way out of the draining death trap and unfurled fiery wings in the open air.
There was water involved in the escape, of course. Significantly more water than there should have been, actually, since the vent above Nicholas’s head continued to leak liquid in the interim. But after Zach pressed fingers to his sister’s pulse and proclaimed Sabrina living, nothing would have prevented the shifter from returning to his mate.
A little saltwater was irrelevant.
Not wanting to push his luck, the shifter didn’t even wait for all of the liquid to sizzle off his wings before he scooped up both siblings in the time it might have taken a human to open his mouth and yawn. Then he winged as quickly as he could away from Raft City, speeding toward the tiny speck in the distance that marked the location of Sabrina’s rapidly receding crew.
To his mind, the operation had been a success. The people who called Sabrina captain had all been saved—well, except for Donald who deserved the fiery fate he’d succumbed to by standing too close to Gunnar’s demise.
Still, in the end, Nicholas had found no way to rescue his mate’s beloved ship.
Because the Intrepid exploded before he’d traveled a quarter of a mile into the wind, and the jolt that shuddered up the shifter’s spine in response was visceral. Sabrina’s dirigible was gone. The vessel that represented freedom and independence and overcoming her father’s greed blazed up in a fireball of ignited hydrogen, then sizzled to nothingness as its remnants plummeted into the open sea.
Perhaps that’s why Nicholas didn’t ask Steph to let him rest for even a moment after he caught up to his sister bobbing along in the doldrums that had eventually replaced Sabrina’s magical wind. Instead, he hovered patiently as each crew member—followed by Steph herself in human form—stepped aboard his broad back. Then Nicholas simply kept flying for two more days and nights without cease.
Sabrina woke that first evening when Nicholas had closed his eyes against the brilliant sunset and was traveling blind toward the distant shore. Despite the many feet that had clambered across his back in the interim, he somehow knew that these new footsteps were his mate’s as soon as she leveraged herself onto her feet.
But the dragon didn’t turn his head around to greet her. Couldn’t bear to see the tears in Sabrina’s eyes when the captain learned he’d failed to protect what she cherished most.
Because, rationally, Nicholas could admit that everyone involved had made the right decision. Sabrina had saved her passengers and crew, Zach had demolished the living danger, then Nicholas had rescued the teenager and Sabrina herself.
And yet...Nicholas had made massive mistakes that overshadowed his few small victories. Even before catching up with Steph, Zach had perched atop Nicholas’s rump, peering back toward Raft City and reliving his recent actions. Or so Nicholas assumed when a cascade of tears sizzled into nothingness as they tumbled onto his scaly hide.
That agony was Nicholas’s fault. He’d exploited the boy’s secrets and in the process splintered the final remnants of Zach’s tattered innocence. How could Sabrina ever forgive such a heartless lapse?
Between the two, guilt of lost ship and damaged brother prevented Nicholas from acknowledging his mate when she clambered up onto his shoulders that first evening and called his name at the top of her lungs. And guilt prevented him from responding when Steph flared into fire and flew around in front of him the next morning, too, offering to take on the passengers for a few hours so Nicholas could transform and sleep.
But, eventually, the long sandy line of shore rose up to greet them. Waves crashed only a few yards away from his scaly hide as Nicholas settled onto the empty beach. And he knew the exhaustion and hunger hidden by his fiery form would catch up as soon as he allowed his weaker human body to emerge.
Perhaps that’s why Nicholas remained draconic even after the last weary passenger leapt to the ground and crowed his delight at having safely survived the oceanic voyage. Nicholas fibbed and told himself that his over-the-top heel-dragging wasn’t due to the disappointment that would fill Sabrina’s sky blue eyes when she at last looked upon his human face.
Too bad even Nicholas didn’t believe his own lie.
His mate certainly didn’t buy it. Instead, Sabrina only allowed him a few short minutes of breathing room while the other humans wandered away to clean their grubby bodies in the waves. Then she stalked around to stand in front of his smoking nostrils.
Nicholas’s weary chin rested on the ground, but the elevation of his eyes still exceeded the top of his mate’s disgruntled head. Despite the disparity in their sizes, though, Sabrina didn’t appear even mildly alarmed as she stalked toward him with both hands resting on her hips.
“You will shift and talk to me!” she demanded, braids whipping around her face in a mass of roiling wind. Despite her usual poker face, Nicholas noted a faint tension bunching the skin at the bridge of her nose. As expected, Sabrina was furious.
And she was also magnificent in her anger. Unable to resist the appeal of her stiff-backed form, Nicholas snorted and obeyed.
His flames receded gradually and his knees were every bit as rubbery as expected when they were required to prop him up on only two legs rather than four. His naked skin chafed against the sand and his stomach made itself known by attempting to gnaw a hole higher into his chest cavity.
But the shifter stood silent anyway, waiting to hear what Sabrina would say. Only...his companion appeared to want him to speak first. So Nicholas bowed his head and acknowledged her at last. “Mate,” he said.
And, to his surprise, the tiniest crinkle of a returning smile gathered on either side of Sabrina’s sparkling blue eyes. “Is that what dragons call it?” she asked, ire fading from her voice now that she’d gotten her way.
“Or husband, lover, partner. Whatever you like.”
Nicholas forced his shoulders not to hunch as he waited for her scathing tongue to tear him apart. He waited for Sabrina to tell him how disappointed she was that he’d been unable to save the Intrepid, that he’d left her brother with even more dark secrets hiding behind those wise young eyes than Zach had harbored to begin with.
Instead, Nicholas’s captain t
ook a step closer until the two of them stood toe to toe. Thirteen degrees, the shifter thought inanely.
And then they were kissing. Not him kissing her or her kissing him. Just two heads clicking together like magnets to complete the seduction they’d begun three nights earlier.
Only, when they came up for air at last, neither participant was finished. Instead, as Nicholas tucked his mate’s arm into the crook of his elbow and turned to survey the crew cheerfully frolicking in the ocean waves, he had a feeling their seduction had only just begun.
Epilogue
“Not quite what you expected, is it?” Sabrina asked, watching her earth-mage friend survey the hodge podge of vendors, customers, and gawkers that filled the soot-cloaked grounds of the annual trader’s festival the following year. Amber was relentlessly polite, but something about the set of her companion’s shoulders suggested the earth witch wasn’t as excited by this outing as she’d initially appeared.
Of course, Sabrina had to admit that the issue could just as easily have been a figment of her own imagination. After all, her life had altered so dramatically over the course of the previous twelve months. It was no surprise that post-Change New York City now looked a little drab and dark rather than mysterious and full of promise.
In contrast, when the companions had first straggled back to the Aerie in the wake of the Intrepid’s fiery demise, every transition had seemed to be for the better. Sabrina and Nicholas were inseparable for several long months thereafter, soaring down Frank’s old flyways on fiery dragon wings and freeing the sex slaves her father had left as his not-so-savory legacy. The work had been gut-wrenching and heart-shattering...and also filled with surprising pockets of joy when carried out by the side of a beloved mate.
Then, last month about the same time Amber began begging to be taken to the trader’s festival, Nicholas had turned remote and abstracted. Sabrina could only assume that her partner had moved on to a new pet project after they ran out of lost souls to save, although he refused to confide any details. In fact, after Sabrina pinned her dragon down and demanded an answer (which was never given), Nicholas began making himself scarce from the Aerie more often than not, his eyes turning evasive whenever he deigned to come home.
Home. Sabrina’s brow wrinkled ever so slightly as she realized she’d used a term for the Aerie that had never felt right even when applied to her familial ship. That was an interesting conclusion, especially in the face of her current relationship troubles.
Before she could delve into the thought more deeply, though, Amber had slipped her arm into Sabrina’s elbow and jolted her back to the present. “Don’t look like that,” her friend admonished. “We’re supposed to be having fun. And, no, I’m not disappointed. I’m looking forward to meeting your friends.”
Amber’s statement was enough to startle a short laugh out of the absent-minded wind witch. “The people here aren’t my friends. They’re barely colleagues,” Sabrina started, only to be interrupted yet again as they reached the main drag and the truth of her statement became painfully obvious.
Because Captain Fairweather had been noticed as soon as she set foot on asphalt, but no one called out a greeting or even bothered to wave the way they would have the year before. Instead, murmurs ran up and down the strip far faster than Sabrina’s feet could carry her. Yep, Gleason had been busy spreading his nasty little lies.
Speak of the devil, Sabrina thought, watching the merchant in question saunter out of the festival’s cheapest pub with a pint of beer held laxly in his stubby-fingered grip. She hadn’t set eyes on her former blackmailer in twelve long months, but she’d heard he was back ashore and back in business.
The fact that Gleason had made it to land meant that Uncle Walt was still out there somewhere too, never mind that Raft City had disappeared from view by the time she and Nicholas flew east looking for the network of pods and underwater tunnels they’d so abruptly left behind. And despite the danger the water mage had recently dragged her through, Sabrina found herself glad that Walter was still alive and kicking somewhere in the Atlantic.
She was less pleased by the sight of her blackmailer’s ugly mug.
“Miss Fairweather,” Gleason called now, his voice stilling the rumors circulating through the crowd until the chatter gave way to an expectant hush. Sabrina’s nemesis continued to advance toward her with a jaunty stride that suggested he held the upper hand, never mind that the puny man hadn’t grown any taller over the previous twelve months.
And maybe Gleason was right to be cocky. He’d certainly caught the attention of the bystanders, who now clumped closer together, perching on waist-high walls and sprinting for upper stories so they’d be ensured a good view of the proceedings.
This showdown had apparently been anticipated as the event of the social season. Just what Sabrina needed—to become the festival’s official laughingstock.
Still, she wasn’t going to back down now. Instead, Sabrina countered with a nod and two short words. “Mr. Gleason.”
And yes, she’d chosen to stand firm...but the wind witch didn’t bother to correct the merchant’s wording this time around. After all, she wasn’t a captain any longer. How could she be a captain while lacking both ship and crew?
As usual, the pang of loss cut through her gut like a wintry wind. And also as usual, Sabrina brushed the agony aside with an impatient inhalation of strength-giving air.
She had no regrets. Even though Nicholas had moved on to a more interesting project, he’d stayed around long enough to help Sabrina complete her mission and rebuild the Fairweather name. Anything else—a ship, independence, partnership—was secondary.
So although Sabrina could think of no suitable retort, she still waited with one raised eyebrow rather than turning on her heel and fleeing from the confrontation. After all, a Fairweather never backed down.
Surprisingly, even that mild show of spine was enough to knock the gamecock off his stride. “You won’t find any business here,” Gleason blustered at last, his ears turning red as he lost face by speaking first. “Everyone heard about your failure to fulfill simple orders. Everyone heard about the loss of your precious ship. Everyone heard that you’re a disappointment to the Fairweather name.”
Sabrina expected to cringe away from the words, which had been skillfully aimed at the soft spot hidden beneath her armor. But, to her own surprise, the wind witch found herself laughing instead.
It wasn’t a quiet, hidden smirk, either, but a full-faced, grinning guffaw. “You’re saying my father would be disappointed in me?” she prodded.
Gleason’s brow furrowed. From the titters on the balcony above both of their heads, it was obvious to everyone that her opponent was walking into a trap. But the dim little man couldn’t quite figure out where he’d gone wrong.
Which, to be fair, really wasn’t his fault. Because Gleason was trying to blackmail her with her dicey heritage the same way he’d done many times in the past. The difference was...Sabrina no longer cared.
So, when her opponent couldn’t find the words to answer, the wind witch answered her own leading question. “You’re right. My father would be ashamed of me. Refusing to sell underage girls as prostitutes? Perish the thought! Refusing to let dollar signs outweigh common sense? Oh the horrors!”
Sabrina slapped one hand to her chest, pretending to swoon. And this time the laughter of the audience was open and overt...and entirely on her side.
She hadn’t intended to play to the crowd. Hadn’t intended to impact anyone other than that pint-sized thorn in her heel. Still, she had to admit that her colleagues’ approbation felt good.
It felt even better when she dismissed Gleason for the nuisance he really was and felt approving hands reaching out to pat her on the shoulder. “When your ship is up and running, I’ve got a job for you,” one of her previous clients said. And out of the corner of her eye, Sabrina caught nods of agreement making the rounds of nearby faces.
“I don’t....” the wind witch began. But
before she could finish her sentence, Amber’s hand had tightened on her elbow. Together, the two swung around one hundred and eighty degrees until they faced the mooring field at the far end of festival row.
“Look,” her friend said, the tension that had clenched the shorter woman’s shoulders up around her ears all day long relaxing as Amber’s mate came in for a landing in the cleared spot where both dragons and ships customarily touched down.
Zane wasn’t the only flier currently arriving, either. There was also a sleek, stunning airship drifting lower in the golden dragon’s wake, the whole thing so spanking new it glowed against the midday sun.
The balloon sparkled silver, as if Zach had sold his proprietary formula and embedded roll-down protectant into the actual fabric itself...which might have actually been the case since her little brother had visibly matured and literally found his voice over the last year. Meanwhile, the enclosed area underneath was twice as large as the cabins of the Intrepid had once been. In fact, this new vessel was bigger than it had any right to be unless the materials making up the supports were unbelievably strong and light.
The newcomer was an airship of the future, and Sabrina coveted it with all of her greedy Fairweather heart. Turning aside, she had to remind herself to breathe.
“No, don’t stop looking now,” Amber chastised. Despite being significantly shorter than Sabrina, her friend made up in tenacity what she lacked in bulk. So before the wind witch could protest, she was being dragged down the strip toward the mooring field, avaricious gaze once again trained upon that glorious, unbelievable ship.
Cerulean Magic: A Dragon Mage Novel Page 23