Leather-like with fine veins, they spread out and flapped once, then retracted, conscious of their space limitations. Nails scored at the rug, but their steps were light enough to not damage the fine layers.
Lastly, their shapes defined, their heads changed, became spade-like but thinner. Even as large as the penthouse was, they still reached the ceiling and had to lower themselves to not hit their heads.
Cautiously, they crouched and then stopped moving. Both of them focused on her. Even their eyes had changed color! Both were nearly onyx black, pools of nothing that reflected back to her.
“What are you?” She enunciated each word, refusing to stutter over them.
Slone’s voice entered her mind first. “We are wyvern. We are magic, human and dragon.”
Brigit stared, frozen by those two pairs of black eyes regarding her back.
“This is what created the mind thinky thing, because as we are able, our mates can too, within reason.”
She stared at the one on the right. Slone. His attempt at humor fell flat. Shock made it hard for her to form complete thoughts.
“Yes, I’m still me,” he explained with a gentleness that she’d come to recognize as him.
“I can tell you apart by your color. Like your skin,” she pointed out. She unclenched her fingers with effort, clasping her hands on her lap to hide their shaking.
“It is one of the factors. It is very unusual to find a very pale wyvern in human form. We do not come in pale shades,” he said, with a light teasing tone. Big, inky black eyes blinked at her, as if sharing the joke.
“Explain ‘us’.”
“We will change back,” Ja’Rol informed her. “It will be less stressful on you.”
Before she could argue, they began to shrink, their skin softening, their limbs taking shape. Even the chiseled maleness of their faces, eyes that she recognized. Mouths that she’d kissed.
“We are considerably older, for one,” Slone said, plucking his towel from the floor to wrap around his hips. Ja’Rol slipped on his jeans, but nothing else.
“How much older?” She glanced to Ja’Rol. “You said decades earlier…”
“Yes. Slone is two hundred and fifteen years old. I am a mere ninety-eight.”
She slumped into her chair, agape at that bombshell. “Holy Hell. I’m only twenty-eight. Isn’t that like, robbing the cradle, or something?”
Ja’Rol chuckled. “No, because in truth we live for several centuries, and sharing with us, you will too.” He nodded once to Slone. “It isn’t always easy; times make it difficult, but it can be done, and has been. By us and many others.”
Slone disappeared into the kitchen. She could hear him moving things around, bottles maybe. Glasses. A moment later, he returned with three glasses filled with wine, one half as full as the other two.
They sat across from her on a loveseat.
“This is why you said there is no gay between you,” she murmured. She’d begun to swirl the white wine, watching the play of the golden liquid as it moved within the glass. Trying hard to come to grips with what they’d shown her.
“It is like we said. It is because we respond in ways that are not typical.”
Ja’Rol sat forward, his hands cupping his wine, his words faraway as he remembered. “When I met Slone, I was barely thirty years. I had anticipated finding a mate, knew it was imminent. Finding that mate to be a male shook me. I knew it was possible, as companionship comes in many ways, but hadn’t expected it. His love and patience has tied us together in ways I never expected to know.” When he lifted, his eyes captured hers. “Much the same way I feel for you, it is so much more than I’d ever hoped to find.” Reaching for one of Slone’s hands, his voice was a low purr of sentiment. “I can’t live without either of you. Slone feels the same. But neither of us can force you either. It isn’t done.”
“What happens to you if I can’t?” She sipped the wine to hide the roughness in her voice.
“We will do as we promised. You will have a job, a place to stay, and,” Slone sighed a rough breath, “we will leave you alone. But I will not lie. What we feel does not die. We can’t replace you.”
She lifted. “But you were with someone before Ja’Rol. You said yourself you were mated before.”
Slone nodded. Scrubbing his hands into his hair, not looking up, he told them, “Inara was incredible, special, and even in our world, we can’t live forever. We returned to share the best of our times in the place she knew. She died before we had been together six years. It was rare.” A harsh shudder rocked his shoulders. “It is a lesson I learned the hard way as well. Love comes in many ways.”
Then facing Ja’Rol, he added, “Something you never knew. I knew Inara for decades. She was my mother’s best friend, but because of that, I refused her. She suffered, and never once blamed me.”
Brigit blinked to block the tears. Ja’Rol put an arm over Slone’s shoulders, holding him close.
“She knew,” he whispered brokenly. “And she never forced it.”
“How did you find out? What did you do?” Brigit leaned forward.
Slone’s chuckle was derisive. “My mother beat the snot out of me and my ego.”
“You’re kidding. Vanessa?”
Slone’s smirk wasn’t unkind. “Yes, Mother.” He lay his head on Ja’Rol’s shoulder. “That is why she adores you.”
Slone’s voice was low, raw. He was bearing everything to help her to understand. “When we are mated, our longevity increases. Denying her stole her most precious years. She knew what it was doing to her.”
Brigit lifted fingers to her lips, hiding her gasp.
“When I found Ja’Rol, I swore I wouldn’t deny him anything.”
“And he hasn’t,” he stated tenderly. Ja’Rol threaded his fingers through Slone’s shorter hair, soothing him.
“And now there’s me,” Brigit said.
Both of the men faced her.
She lifted a hand. “I’m not saying no, but…” She sucked in a breath. “This is a lot to process.”
“Does the wyvern in us scare you?” Slone asked, straightening, though he left a hand on Ja’Rol’s thigh.
“Actually, no. Part of me thinks that is incredible. Part of me is asking when I’ll wake up.” She sipped again at the wine, then not bothering for manners, simply swallowed what was left. Staring at the empty glass, then at them. “I guess that’s the ‘within reason’, that I won’t be able to do?” she mused.
“No, but as our mate, you are free to return to our world with us, at any time.”
“Really? Like another dimension?” Excitement strung through her at the notion.
They both nodded.
“Give me a few days,” she finally said after several minutes of contemplation. “I know it’s not what you wanted to hear, but this went from a weekend trip to something very permanent like that.” She snapped her fingers. This just wasn’t something she could agree to so quickly.
“Where will you be?” Ja’Rol asked, voicing their concerns for her, worry that she felt plainly.
“I’ll be close, and no, not at the shelter. I’ll find a hotel for a few nights.” She set her glass on the table, next to Slone’s that he’d hardly touched. “I just need to…assimilate this.” Hoping for their understanding, she added a quiet, “Please?”
Without argument, they stood. “Give me a few minutes to dress.” Then Slone walked out of the room.
Ja’Rol cleared the distance of the room between them until he stood before her. “I understand. We both do.” He cupped her face, and when he stroked her cheeks with his thumbs, she felt a lump form in her throat. “I love you. Don’t try to rationalize it. Don’t try to excuse it. Slone loves you, too. Together, we are complete.” The whisper of his voice dropped even more. “I know you feel it.”
“I do, but I hardly know you—”
“Not true. You know us right now in ways no one else will ever know us, and you will know us more.” He drew a steadying breath.
Honey brown eyes bored into hers. “I know I can’t make you stay. Just know, no matter what you decide, we’re here. We love you.”
Then as sweet as spring, he pressed his lips to hers, a kiss that cocooned her in everything he wasn’t saying. She almost said she would right then, beneath the warmth of his kiss.
“No. You need the time, and we will respect that.”
She was never going to get used to that. Kissing Ja’Rol, only to hear Slone in her mind.
Chapter Twelve
“Thanks for letting me stay with you, Mom.” She sat at the kitchen table, finishing a plate of eggs. She’d been there a few days, but with work and everything, they hadn’t had a chance to do a lot of talking about the reason she was there to begin with.
Apparently, her mother was going to fix that problem.
“Do the boys know you’ve come here?”
Brigit’s brow shot up. “Boys?”
She waved a hand over her shoulder not bothering to explain, making another batch of scrambled eggs for Gene at the stove.
“Yes and no. They know I’m not in town, but I didn’t go far. I’m sure regardless, they know. They can get into my head if they want to.”
“But they won’t.” She plated the last of Gene’s breakfast. “They’re not like that.”
“How long did you know about them?”
“For about five years, but I suspected long before that. They don’t age. They still look as devilishly handsome as they did when I first started there almost twenty years ago.”
“But they said ten.”
“I worked for them for ten. I was with Tube-Nautics almost as long as I was divorced. I was lucky when we moved there. They hired me, and the rest is history.”
“How did you suspect? There’s nothing like them in the real world.”
“Honey,” Traci said sweetly. “There’s all kinds of things out there that aren’t in the real world. You just have to know when you see it.”
Brigit put her chin on a raised fist. “What do you mean?”
“Just trust me on this. Just because we’re a human race, don’t believe we’re the only race.”
“Are you serious?”
She gave Brigit the time renowned, ‘mother knows’ look.
Brigit gaped at her mother. “But how do you know? We’re not magic or anything.”
“No, we’re not, but certain people have a more,” Traci searched for the word, “open-minded nature, I guess. We can accept where others wouldn’t.”
“Did Dad?”
Traci was quick to shake her head. “No. He was the epitome of black and white. And he was the only one in his world who would ever be right.”
“You can see them?” Brigit had never known any of this, but she guessed until Slone and Ja’Rol, it never would have come up either.
“I can. I was surprised when you couldn’t, but that was probably more your dad stifling your nature than anything. I hated letting you go stay with him.”
The sound of slippers in the hall told her Gene was on his way down for his Saturday morning.
“Hi, punkin,” he greeted her with a light kiss to the top of her head. “Sleep good?”
“I did. Thanks for letting—”
“Hush. Family doesn’t have to say thanks. Though doing the dishes wouldn’t hurt.”
Brigit giggled. Mainly because Gene had been winking at her when he said that. It wasn’t an expectation, or a must, the way her father would have ordered it. If he’d even allowed her to eat.
“It’s okay, sweetheart.” Traci came and kissed her on the forehead.
“I just realized, you’re not worried about which one it is,” Brigit stated, sitting a little straighter in her chair. Looking between her mom and stepdad, she began to worry, but it didn’t last long.
Traci gave Gene a cup of coffee then sat with them. “No. I’m not.” She sipped her coffee, a nonchalance in the action.
Brigit ran her finger over the edge of her mug. “What if- What if it was both?” She lifted her lashes, then quickly looked down again.
“Do you love them both?”
Her gaze snapped to Gene.
“Honey, I’m old. I’m not dense. I could see a mile away how much those young men adored you.”
Brigit was sure her world had completely turned upside down. Her mother had known they were wyvern. Gene was all okay with a trio—a ménage relationship. Even her mother was as unconcerned.
“I do,” she managed through a tight throat.
“Then what the hell are you doing moping around here for?” her mother saucily demanded with a flick of her wrist, shooing her off the table. “Get back to town.”
“You’re really okay with this?”
“Brigit, so long as you’re happy, honestly and truly happy, I’d be okay if you married the troll down the street.” Her mother slapped a hand over her mouth. “Crap! Ignore that, okay, Bebe.”
“Mom! How do you know these things?” Brigit tossed her hands in exasperation.
A high blush brightened Traci’s face. “Once you learn what to look for, you see them everywhere. But since most can’t, it’s tabloid news, or the white jacket men.” Gene covered her hand, and Traci sighed with a chuckle, calming once more. “Just, be happy, Bebe. Whatever it is that makes you happy.”
Brigit leaped from her chair and embraced her mother. “Thanks Mom. So much!” Leaning over, she puckered up and smooched hard on Gene’s cheek. “Thanks,” she whispered to him, then she shot out of the dining room to pack.
* * * *
“You can’t warn them, okay, Carl?”
“No, Ma’am.” Carl grinned letting her out of the car at the front doors to Tube-Nautics. “Just glad to see you came back.” He gave her a wink and walked in with her to get her past Judy. Then she was riding the elevator.
Brigit’s heart was racing as fast as the elevator was climbing. Calling Carl had been a brilliant idea, and Brigit was thankful Ja’Rol had put him literally on-call for her. Her bags waited in the car, but she’d asked him to keep them for a few hours.
The next encounter may take a while. And when Carl had only grinned in answer to her request, she’d looked away, blushing her worst.
She drew a deep breath, praying that she wouldn’t be interrupting something. She’d been very careful to keep her thoughts even, to not give them an alert that she was on her way. When the elevator opened to dead silence on their working floor, she believed it had worked. Brigit couldn’t reach the penthouse without a card key, so she had to hope she’d find them both here.
Straightening her halter dress, she strode right up to Slone’s doors. She didn’t knock this time, either.
Shoving them both inward, she entered his office like she was walking through the swinging doors of an old time saloon. With a lot of bravado, and a prayer.
Her gaze fell on them both, Slone sitting at his desk, Ja’Rol leaning over the edge, both looking at the computer screen. They snapped around at her entrance with surprise widening their eyes. They both looked so good. Snug pullovers, and slacks. And just like usual, a single lock of Ja’Rol’s hair had fallen to caress his temple.
“Hi, honey. I’m home,” Brigit called in a sing-song voice. She must have done a good job at keeping her mind blank, or they were doing as they’d promised, and hadn’t searched for her. She hadn’t expected to take them by surprise, only find them.
Ja’Rol straightened, his mouth parting on a sucked breath. Slone rose from his chair. Both in slow motion.
“Brigit.” Slone’s deep voice sent a shiver down her spine.
God, she’d missed these two.
“We missed you, pet.”
Her eyes zeroed in on Slone when his voice vibration filled her mind. Together they walked around to the front of the desk. Now that she was there, she felt a jolt of nerves attack. Her heart thudded. She heard its beat in her head.
She fought to not twist her hands into the knit of her skirt. She’d picked something loose that would
hide what was under the dress. Now why did she have to be brave and wear it at all?
Both men paused a foot or two in front of her. She swallowed.
Searching their faces, looking for any sign other than shock, she said with a tremble in her voice that she couldn’t avoid, “If I say I love you, will one of you say something? Please?”
Ja’Rol’s expression quickly warmed, growing into a grin. “How about you just say it again?”
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