“Get away from the window,” her mother shrieked. “The red ones breathe fire.”
“I think he’s with us,” Viola said. “I think that’s Jack.”
“Oh, it’s us now is it? Just like your father.”
“You told me he started a new family.” Viola turned away from the window to confront her mother with that lie. All this time, she thought her father was one kind of schmuck. Now that it turned out he had just been dragon-struck, she didn’t know if that made it better or worse. Would he want to see her now?
Her mother shrugged. “So she wasn’t his secretary. She was a venture capitalist that sank quite a bit of money into your father’s creations. He was a chemist, always dabbling in some potion or ointment. One day, he hit the goldmine and she whisked him off for an exclusive contract. It was her money that bought this house.”
Sergei came back with her carry-on luggage and pushed past them to the car. On the way, he gave Viola a glare that would curdle milk.
“So get out. You have your things,” her mother said, crossing her arms.
“Mom, I’m still me.”
“Go leech off your father for a change.”
“You know, maybe if you were a little more pleasant he would have stayed,” Viola said
“You’re dead to me.” Her mother pushed her out the door, but Viola was ready for it. “I’m ashamed of you.”
The slam of the door whooshed air against her back. It was probably for the best. Viola sighed. She couldn’t stop disappointing her mother, and her mother would never change. She turned her back on the house.
“Ah!” Viola screamed as she was suddenly face-to-head with the red dragon. Damn! His teeth were as long as her arm.
“Want me to burn the house down?” Jack’s voice grumbled out of the massive maw.
Tempting. “No, I just want to go.”
“We have a problem,” Carolyn said.
Viola glanced over her shoulder at Sergei, who had walked the length of the driveway and stood there, fists clenched.
“I have to fly back to Connecticut,” Jack said.
“Why? Is another Queen in trouble?”
Carolyn laughed. “No, Jack’s the one in trouble. His fiancée saw you wearing his ‘Back off, I’m taken’ shirt and now he’s got some ’splainin’ to do.” She finished in a funny accent.
Viola wasn’t sure how a lizard the size of a bus could look sheepish, but he did.
“Normally, I’d have you ride on my back and put some distance between you and Smythe, but Arianna would freak if she saw that. Besides, you can shift and fly yourself. I probably won’t see you for a while, because you’re going to get very busy. Remember, not all studs are like Smythe.”
“Thanks, Jack, for everything.” Viola couldn’t figure out how to hug his head, so she patted his cheek instead.
“Get off of my lawn before I call the police!” Her mother shrieked from the inside.
Jack took off, his claws digging large, and probably unnecessary, holes in the front lawn. His massive flanks clenched and pushed him off into the sky. Great, bat-like wings stayed close to his body until he hit the right altitude and then his wingspan blotted out the moon. He banked and his tail pumped to give him more speed. He posed for a moment and then sped off.
“Show-off,” Carolyn said. “The Celtic dragons think they’re all that and a bag of chips.”
“I’m going to fly,” Viola marveled. “How do I shift into a dragon?”
“Eventually, you’ll be able to do it solely by thinking about it. But for right now, we’re going to take advantage of your emotions to give you extra power. Let’s try the same thing we did before. Can you think of something that makes you very happy?”
Viola glanced back at the house and saw the curtain flick closed. “Not right now.”
Carolyn gave her a comforting smile. “Okay, let’s do the opposite. Something that makes you mad.”
Viola smoothed a hand down her sleeve. “I’m going to shred my clothes and this is my favorite sweater. It took me three months to knit it.”
“It’s very pretty. The drape is very flattering.’
Viola preened. “I wanted it in blue, but—”
“Let’s go,” Sergei snarled. Carolyn winced and sighed. “He’s right. We’ll talk more at the safe house. Now, about your clothes, if you prepare yourself, you can save yourself a lot of embarrassment. When you transform into your dragon form, think about keeping the clothes somewhere safe. When you transform back to human, they’ll be there for you. It’s part of the magic.”
“So I think mean thoughts and picture my clothes going away, but somewhere accessible?”
Carolyn nodded.
Mean thoughts were easy. Viola had them on a daily basis.
“Don’t forget your clothes, they’re starting to stretch.”
OMG, not her sweater!
Viola pictured her knitted sweater. But she didn’t want to fold it and put it away. In her mind, she pictured unknitting it and rolling the yarn back up into a ball and stashing the ball in a pretty basket. She did the same for her jeans even though they were denim, not yarn, and sewn, not knitted. Knitted jeans…hmmm, maybe she should look into getting some skeins from recycled blue jeans.
Her mother’s scream jarred her out of her thoughts, and Viola’s neck craned painfully as the force of three heads turned toward the sound.
“Thank you so much for all your help,” the white horse head said to Carolyn.
“Oh, blow it out your ass,” the red goat head shouted at her mother, who was at the window and not bothering to hide her disgust behind the curtain.
Viola craned her middle head to see what her wings were doing and saw a purple dragon hovering in the air. His body was sleek and muscled—just like he was in human form. Silver tiger-like stripes crisscrossed over his body, reflecting the moonlight. His tail was barbed at the end and swished through the air like an irate cat. He back-winged and she flinched from the dust that sprayed up. They stared at each other and she shuddered from his malevolent gaze. What had she ever done to him?
“Okay,” Carolyn said. “Good job. I’m going to drive the car. With all your stuff, there’s not room for you and Sergei, anyway. Reed will pick me up when he’s done beating the crap out of Smythe. Follow Sergei, and he’ll take you to the safe house. You’ll get there first, even with my head start. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“Wait, don’t leave me,” Viola said, but Carolyn was already in the car.
She took off, spraying gravel and hitting the gas hard enough that the engine screamed.
“Fly,” Sergei growled.
Viola’s three heads all considered each other. Then she shrugged. Her wings unfurled, cracking like a canvas sail in the wind. She lumbered to a lope and then leapt up into the air like Jack did. Her wings hit her heads, boxing her own ears.
“Ow.”
“Stop fooling around.”
“This is my first time,” Horse said, eyes watering.
“Be gentle with me,” Goat said, winking at him.
“Stop that,” Viola said to her goat head. “I don’t know why it does that.” She smiled apologetically at Sergei, but he continued to flip his tail.
“Any time now.”
“Okay.” Viola flapped her wings and jumped in the air.
“It’s like watching a hippo try to fly,” her mother said from the porch.
“Bite me,” Goat said.
Her mother shook a broom at her.
“What the hell are you doing?” Sergei glared down at her, hovering impatiently.
“I don’t know how to fly.” Viola couldn’t believe this. Only she could fail so miraculously in front of not only her mother, but also a dragon she’d like to get back in good graces with—if he even had any.
Just fly, you idiot. Viola strained so hard, she almost burst a blood vessel.
“Of course you can. You’re a dragon,” Sergei said, flipping his tail like a disgruntled cat.
/> “I’m trying,” she spat out between her teeth.
“Well, try harder. I’m not going to carry you.” He shuddered in disgust.
“I don’t want you to. I can do this.” Part of her wondered if he thought she was too heavy to pick up. It made her want to sit on him. And not in a fun way.
“What’s going on out there?” Mrs. Johnson stepped out on the porch. She had her camera around her neck.
“No pictures,” Sergei roared, showing a mouthful of impressive teeth.
Mrs. Johnson fled back into the house.
“Now you’ve done it,” the goat said. “The old busybody is probably calling TMZ.”
“I think I’m too fat to fly.” Viola’s horse head lowered almost to the ground.
Sergei sighed. “That’s ridiculous. You need to let go. Let go of all of this bullshit.” He pointed a talon at the twitching curtain. “You have evolved. You are a miracle. Believe it.”
Viola screwed up her courage and ran full out and took a giant leap in the air…and fell on her face in the road. A car swerved to avoid hitting her, honking its horn.
Sergei plowed into her, pushing them both out of the road and knocking them onto the dirt in a tangle of arms, legs, and claws as a truck whipped past them,
“Asshole!” Goat called after the truck.
“Did you have this much trouble flying the first time?” Viola asked, unwinding her limbs from Sergei’s. Dragon form to dragon form, she was bigger, but he was more muscular. Strength and confidence oozed from him in equal measures. He was breathtaking so close to her. For a brief moment, she clung to him just to feel like there was a solid foundation to her crazy mixed up world.
“No, I was flung out of the rookery.”
She let him go, but he didn’t move away. Half buried in a ditch, covered with road dust, Viola’s heart quieted. “How far was the drop?”
“About 700 meters.” He moved off her and she missed his closeness.
Viola blinked. “How many feet is that?”
“A lot.” Sergei climbed back into the air, effortlessly. “Change back to human and get on your bike.”
“I can still see you,” her mother called. “The police are on their way.”
“Shut up!” Sergei and her goat head called back, then he turned to her and said, “I guess you get to keep your bike after all. Head over to I-95. I’ll catch up to you. We don’t have time for flying lessons.”
“I thought you said a dragon can fly faster than my motorcycle?”
“We can. But if I’m flying over you, I might as well take out a huge sign that says ‘Queen Here.’ If we were flying together, we could hide in the clouds. Right now, I want to avoid the human authorities. So put on your helmet and head for New York. You’ll be another bike rider on the highway.”
“How are you going to catch up to me?”
“My bike.”
“What about the other male dragons? What if they smell me out and kidnap me?”
“You’ll be alone for fifteen minutes tops. If your mother wasn’t such a bitch, I’d have you hide here.”
“I can handle fifteen minutes on my own.”
Viola closed her eyes and imagined racing the Hayabusa up I-95. The wind buffeted into her face as Sergei shot into the sky. It felt like speed.
When the thrill for the open road became too much for her, she opened them and stared at her palms, human once more. She patted herself, to make sure she had on clothes and then touched her head—and confirmed there was only one. Viola stood up, looked both ways, and crossed the street.
She expected one last confrontation with her mother, but the door remained firmly shut and the curtains pulled closed. Well, that was it then. She revved the engine so the pipes roared like a dragon. Eat that, Mrs. Johnson.
Putting on her helmet, she tucked her hair up so her long, blonde strands wouldn’t give her away as a female. Then she turned her back on her former life and headed toward the highway. Hopefully, she wouldn’t run into any dragons hunting for a Queen.
Chapter Five
Reed was long gone, taking the paparazzi with him, by the time Sergei landed in the parking lot of Talon Industries. If Smythe was still conscious, he was keeping a low profile inside. Sergei didn’t usually rat out his friends to the feds, but Smythe was dead wrong in this case. If they stooped to Cassandra’s level and captured and tortured a weaker creature, for fun or because they could, it made them no better than the vile Queens.
Reed’s new Queen, Carolyn, on the other hand, seemed more human than dragon. And to him, that was a good thing. Viola could turn out that way, too. No matter what, they weren’t like Cassandra. He had to keep telling himself that so he didn’t chomp Viola’s head off. Sergei flowed into human form. He disengaged the security from his bike and threw his leg over the seat.
He ignored the panicky feeling in his stomach. He’d been in the presence of two Queens and the only time he’d wanted to choke a bitch was when he was dealing with the old lady whose husband left her for Cassandra. In fact, he’d actually stood up for Viola when her mother went at her.
That was his old training kicking in. It couldn’t be because when he looked at her all he thought about was sex.
He glared at the road, his fingers tightening hard enough to put hairline cracks in the handlebars.
He didn’t want to serve another Queen, no matter how tame she’d be. It did surprise him that he still had courtly manners. He’d figured Cassandra had beaten all formality out of him. One of these days, he’d have to stop letting her define him.
It didn’t matter. Sooner or later these new Queens would turn bitchy, once they realized their power, and he planned to be long gone before that happened. He’d escort Viola to the safe house in Upstate New York and then continue on to Vermont.
As he revved the bike to gain speed, he let his senses expand. He didn’t smell any other dragons—which was the only reason he’d left her alone. Reed would have his head, anyway, or at least he’d try. Sergei smiled to himself. It might be worth it to see whose poison was more virulent. Reed had a breath weapon that spat a corrosive poison at his enemy, but Sergei’s tail held a sting that rivaled a fat tail scorpion.
A human would be paralyzed instantly and suffocate as their lungs and heart stopped. A dragon, depending on where the sting landed, would also be impaired. Multiple strikes and the dragon would stop moving, allowing him to perform a coup de grace.
Not that he wanted to kill Reed. He and Jack were do-gooders, and while Sergei didn’t have time in his life for that nonsense, the world could use all the help it could get.
He signaled and tore up the entrance ramp, pushing the speed up past ninety.
Speed equaled freedom. He’d been chained because he was so fast he could beat any pursuer. He held the record for most escape attempts and bore the whip marks on his body to prove it. Of course, in hindsight, if he hadn’t been such a rebel he wouldn’t even had popped up on Cassandra’s radar.
One stud among the harem.
He opened the bike up full throttle and pinned it at one-hundred-and-ninety miles an hour. Using his dragon reflexes, he ran up the middle line, dodging passing cars as if they were standing still. One of these days he’d outrun the memories.
But not today.
He saw the Fat Bob Harley in the fast lane, harassing a Prius to get out of her way. Sergei blew both their doors off, passing on the right. He eased off the throttle and let the new Queen catch up. Viola ducked her head down and passed him, glancing over her shoulder with a little smirk. Sergei had to look away. He liked human women. They were easy. They smelled nice and they didn’t expect anything long-term. Dragon Queens, on the other hand, ruled over men. And as pretty as Viola’s brown eyes were, he wasn’t going to be commanded ever again.
They rode side by side; sometimes he let her pull up ahead and take the lead, and he ogled her lush backside. Man, if they’d only met a few weeks ago, what fun they could have had. He bet she smelled like the wind a
nd would taste like honey wine. He had a weakness for curvy blonds.
Sergei blinked. Where the hell did that thought come from? Get your head in the game and stop thinking with your dick. There will be plenty of Vermont cuties waiting for you once you begin your exile.
A few hours later, they pulled into a gas station to rest.
“You seem tired,” he said as they filled up. He batted her credit card away. “I have an expense account.”
“Does that include dinner?” she asked, stretching.
He tried not to stare at the sweet band of flesh showing as her sweater pulled up. “It includes anything I want. You hungry?”
“For anything except lamb,” Viola smiled at him and he grunted. “Although it’s got to be way past midnight.”
Sergei nodded. “We did the right thing, leaving when we did. It didn’t give the press a chance to regroup. Plus, any studs in the area will be two hours south of us.”
“I don’t know if I can drive all night.” She rubbed her temples and stifled a yawn.
“I know a steak house we can stop at. It’s not the Ritz Carlton, but it’s got huge portions. We’ll get a couple of pots of coffee and load up on grub.”
“I’m in,” Viola said. She sighed. “I’m still feeling like I’m trapped in the Twilight Zone.”
“That was an ugly scene with your mother.” Sergei had been chased out of his village by pitchfork-bearing peasants a few hundred years ago. So he felt for Viola. Her mother used words as weapons, though, and those wounds didn’t heal easily.
“I call that a regular Tuesday night.”
“Why were you living with her?” He’d rather hitchhike to some place warm and live on the beach.
“Trying to build up my credit report and my savings.”
“So some jackass rooked you out of your 401K?” Sergei’s vision tinged red.
Viola replaced the gas cap and nodded at the Harley. “His was blue.”
The Queen's Flight (Emerging Queens) Page 4