by Jody Wallace
He joined her obligingly. She gestured at the street, quaint brick and adobe buildings lining the sidewalks and a charming town square toward the east. The sky’s blue had deepened as the morning progressed, changing from aqua to sapphire. She wanted to be in that sky.
Free as a bird. Free as a dragon.
“I believe I can shift now. I’m going to Seven Sister Springs and having a picnic. If you’d like to accompany me, I will carry you. But no man is riding me ever again.”
Barnabas raised his eyebrows. “Ah.”
That hadn’t come out as intended. Her face flamed, and she looked at his lips. Then his eyes. He was staring at her as if imagining the exact same thing. Was that what it took to dishevel his composure? She’d keep that in mind. “Do you want to come with me?”
“I am here to protect you,” he reminded her. “I would absolutely like to come with you, wherever you go.”
What this one man thought he could do to protect a free dragon, she didn’t know, but as she’d admitted last night, it did bolster her to have him here. To have someone to share these experiences with, since Aiden was not back.
And she didn’t want to think about what might be keeping him. That worry lurked behind her determined cheerfulness like a hungry shark in the sea. But with Barnabas able to go back and forth, perhaps discovering answers about Aiden’s absence wouldn’t be impossible. “I so appreciate you nursing me last night, Barnabas.”
“It was nothing.”
It was something—to her. “How long do you intend to stay in this dimension?”
“Hm. As long as necessary.”
Would he be staying at the hotel, or did he expect them to stay together? How close did he need to be to protect her? Closer than they were right now? Close enough to touch? To kiss?
How close could she handle him while she was slightly contaminated like this?
She took a step back so she wouldn’t grab him to steady herself, as she suddenly felt weak in the knees. No throbbing loins, though. Just these weak knees and a grabby desire to kiss him. She’d spent her life reluctant to touch anyone out of magical protocol, and now she wanted her hands all over his fine, strapping body. “How will you judge what’s necessary?”
He studied her as if assessing a chart with the title Nadia Silver. He checked off some boxes with his eyes. “Once I am persuaded you will be safe, we will address my departure.”
Magic’s protection spell would keep her safe, but if she convinced him of that, would he leave?
“You don’t have anything else to do? Anyone back in Tarakona waiting for you? You didn’t mention last night.” She thought she was being subtle enough. He might have DLF duties. And a family. If he was here, thinking she needed protection, if he was to be her friend—she ought to know everything about him.
“I am not expected elsewhere,” he said. “I’m at your service, my lady.”
“Then I will take you with me.” She slid on her shoes, grimacing at the traces of sand. She didn’t bother with the dirty socks. While she couldn’t create clothing items, she could morph them back and forth, but those socks had had enough. “But I’m in charge because I have been in this town a week longer than you. It makes sense. And please—call me Nadia. I’m not a ‘my lady’.”
He didn’t argue, though his jaw did firm up. She suspected he didn’t agree, but she was the dragon here. What could he do against a dragon? “Very well, Nadia. Let me fetch my things.”
Chapter Five
Flying while a tiny bit contaminated, and toting a passenger in her claws, was somewhat of a humbling experience. Unlike yesterday and a very sly attempt she’d made right at bedtime, she had been able to attain dragon form. However, no manner of rapid blinking produced the sharp vision she was used to. Birds dive-bombed her from what seemed like thin air, and she lurched sideways to avoid them. Stupid birds.
They weren’t purposefully dive-bombing her, she suspected, but her course through the sky was erratic. Swoopy on the ground, swoopy in the air.
Not much longer. She’d partaken of the margaritas yesterday at lunch, and it was half past breakfast.
Below her, clutched as gently as she could manage in her talons, Barnabas uttered a pained curse. Her eyes might be wonky from the margaritas, but her hearing was shipshape. The reds and browns of the desert and sage, with the smattering of green and blue near the river, streamed by in a blur. Aiden had said if she followed the river she would eventually see the tributary near the town of Haven that led to the mountain-fed springs. Further on was Lake Avalon, but it was less private.
The deliciously icy waters of Seven Sister Springs should cleanse the last of the swoopiness and desire from her. Last night Barnabas had told her about the Dragon Liberation Front, as if giving a sales pitch, but not much about himself. Soon she would seriously quiz him on his background, his intentions, and his experience.
And perhaps his history of romantic relationships. If it came up in passing.
As she neared a bend in the main river, she spotted the tributary. Finally! She picked up the pace, and a strange sensation like feathers tickled her as she passed a canyon.
Had they flown through a giant spider web? She shuddered all over to erase the sensation, jiggling Barnabas below her.
“If we don’t arrive soon,” he called up to her, raising his voice, “I should like to be set down upon that promontory, if you please.” The town of Haven was high on a ridge overlooking the river, a tiny oasis of civilization.
It was possible he’d never flown this way. And perhaps she wasn’t very good at it. She’d only transported dry goods in her paws, not people. Dragons in Tarakona were forced to allow humans and wizards to ride them like beasts of burden. But no more, not for her.
“Nearly there,” she trumpeted back, feeling him wince. Dragons in dragon form had very loud voices, the better to hear one another while flying.
They reached the spring and she backflapped, hovering. The waters that emerged from the seven artesian openings cascaded over boulders and down a short bluff before crashing into a deep pool. Grasses and trees lined the sides of the basin as if drinking greedily. Moss covered the tops of boulders, lending some the appearance of giant buffalo humps. The constant splash of water into the pool inspired in her a powerful thirst.
That was when she realized she didn’t actually know what to do next. When she’d carried inanimate objects, she’d dropped them sloppily at her destination, hoping they would break in order to spite Victoria. But Barnabas wasn’t inanimate, and she absolutely didn’t want him to break.
As she flapped closer to the ground, sand and twigs flurried into the air. Her wings created a veritable windstorm of detritus, causing them both to cough, but at least she was close enough to the earth to deposit him safely.
“Are you ready to land?” she called between hacks.
“So very ready,” he responded, showing some spirit, even though she was twenty times his size and could crush him with a sneeze. The man had been around dragons enough that he was comfortable with her, which wasn’t the case with most humans in Tarakona. Meanwhile, wizards treated dragons with condescension and avarice, as if they were nothing but particularly valuable cows fit only for milking.
She released her grip on him. He dangled a moment and landed nimbly below. She plunked to earth a ways down the stream. Because she misestimated the ground, she bounced a bit, stumbled, and righted herself with an embarrassed tail flip.
Her tail promptly walloped a large cactus, and she squealed when it pricked the delicate underside.
Stupid margaritas. Stupid tail.
“Are you all right?” Barnabas was dusting himself after their trek. He had to be overheated in his long sleeves and pants. Why hadn’t he worn a swimsuit?
“I’m fine. I just need to cool down.” And sober up.
If she remained in dragon form, it would be difficult to carry on a conversation with Barnabas. But the hot, New Mexico sunset felt lovely on her silver hide, shim
mering like glitter. She flexed out a wing and admired the play of sunlight on the translucent webbing. The cold water of the spring would also feel better as a dragon. In human form, she was more delicate.
“I’m powerful thirsty.” Awkward on earth as she was graceful in the air—at least when she wasn’t contaminated—Nadia squeezed past Barnabas and waded into the expansive basin at the foot of the falls. A luscious, silky chill poured into her skin, though the pool wasn’t deep enough to submerge.
Silver dragons were not small and dainty like whites or long and slender like blues. They were a sizeable, sturdy beast with strong tails, spine ridges from neck to tip, proud snouts, shiny scales, and a very pale underside. Their magic ensured that they enjoyed a place near the top of the status pyramid, not that status did dragons in Tarakona much good.
Water gushed up the banks, engulfing the rocks as she displaced it with a huge, dragony sigh of contentment. She didn’t get to free-bathe in Tarakona. Too much risk of dragon piracy. She ducked her muzzle into the water and drank; the taste was as clean and fine as anything she’d ever had, despite the fact that Tarakonans hadn’t set about polluting the world like the people here.
After her thirst was slaked, she craned her long neck to check on Barnabas. “Are you coming in?” Since he hadn’t brought a swimming suit, he would presumably disrobe, and she didn’t want to miss that.
“I believe,” he said drily, and still completely clothed, “that I am already in.”
The miniature flood she’d created with her body had surged the water around his feet to his knees.
“Oops.” She ducked her head and curled her tail up. “My apologies.”
The sun gleamed on their desert oasis in a bright golden swash between the surrounding cliffs. Trees blocked the rays in a network of darker shadows. The mountain iciness soothed the cactus injuries on her tail and the prickle of the knife wound on her buttock. Shapeshifting didn’t have a healing effect, but it took much more grievous wounds to hinder her in dragon form. The only two things a human form handled better were sex and pregnancy. Not that wizards allowed dragons to bear children, since it meant no magic use the entire gestation. Not that Nadia had ever dreamed of being pregnant.
But now, she realized, that freedom was open to her, as were so many others.
The freedom to fly wherever she wanted and bathe in pools. The freedom to eat whatever she wanted, befriend whomever she wanted. The freedom to make love if she wanted.
Prior to today, the freedom to contaminate her magic, if she wanted, only she’d realized that the state of contamination had drawbacks. Such as drunk flying, mouth-offing, and swoopy reasoning.
Barnabas didn’t interrupt her as she soaked; he just perched on a boulder and admired the scenery. She nudged herself forward, mindful of splashing the bank, so that the cascades from above pounded on her neck and shoulders. Behind the falls was a jumble of rocks and moss. Nature’s massage slowly relaxed her from snout to tail.
Her skin fully hydrated, she shifted back to human form in order to dine. Yes, indeed, the water was much, much colder with thin pink skin. She hastened from the frigid, deep pool, gasping.
“Cold!” she exclaimed, teeth chattering. She hugged herself and shivered in the hot desert air. Her wet shirt and shorts clung to her body, and water dribbled down her legs. Her shoes squelched as she hobbled out of a shadow into direct sunlight.
“Indeed.” Barnabas shook out his trouser legs and angled his head to look at her.
He froze, staring. The expression on his face—intense, even ardent—confused her.
“What?” She checked herself. Was she bleeding somewhere? Did she have leeches?
Nothing like that. Her white, summery shirt stuck to her breasts and had gone translucent. In Tarakona, since the majority climate was boreal, people tended to wear more clothing.
Heat flashed through her body and displaced any lingering chill from the mountain stream. She longed to touch him. Taste him. Her nipples pebbled. And her loins…felt strange. Achy. Lonely.
Was that…throbbing?
Watching his every facial twitch, she sashayed toward him, attempting to telegraph her willingness to explore a relationship of a sexual nature. His stunned gaze made her feel powerful and feminine at the same time. All of her drunkenness gone, she focused on him with perfect clarity.
He was exceedingly handsome. Polite. Caring. Strong. If he was, even remotely, a friend of her brother, not to mention comfortable with dragons and determined to liberate them, that meant he was a good person, too.
She wanted to ruffle every drop of his dignity.
The squish-squish-squish of her wet shoes was an awkward accompaniment to what was intended to be a lithe, sexy prowl, but that didn’t stop her. They’d gotten on exceedingly well since she’d met him, and she hoped that meant something. The time had come to relieve herself of her virginity. If he was willing to comply.
“Barnabas, is there something you want to tell me?” she purred.
He blinked and readjusted his gaze to her face. “Nadia. Yes. There is.”
But she couldn’t wait for him. She was seizing the moment and whatnot.
“I’d very much like to kiss you,” she announced. “May I?”
His dark eyes blazed. “What?”
“I said, I’d very much like to kiss you.”
He exhaled slowly. “I am very attracted to you, Nadia, but first I must tell you that—”
He wanted her, too. She reached up to his handsome face and stroked his jaw. Tingles of power bled instantly from her body into his, like the swift sting of a wasp.
She yelped and leapt back, hugging her hand to wet shirt. “What was that?”
“Static electricity,” he answered, but his irises flashed silver. Silver with her magic.
“You’re a wizard!” she shouted, balling up her fists. “A fecking wizard!”
Guilt replaced lust on his face. “Funny you should mention, as that is exactly what I wanted to tell you.”
She punched him straight in the gut. He whoofed out some air but didn’t double over so she could ram her knee into his chin like in Earth action movies. “I will tear you apart,” she raged. “How dare you. How dare you.”
He just stood there and took her abuse. “I’m deeply sorry.” When she hit him again, he let her. But the fifth time, when she went for his crotch, he caught her fist.
More power surged between them. Filled him up and emptied her out. He gasped at the onslaught, stiffening.
She cried out in dismay. Why couldn’t she stop it? Free dragons were free. They didn’t have to give anybody anything. And she didn’t want to give him…
But as soon as she imagined stopping it, it stopped. He clutched her fingers and they stared at one another, panting. Well, she was panting. He was glowing with a pale, magical radiance, and the pained expression on his face seemed to have little to do with her puny blows.
“Are you quite finished?” he asked, his irises glittering with her stolen magic.
“No!” she shouted and kicked him in the shin. “Devil. Traitor. Bastard.”
Her dirty shoe slopped against his wet trouser leg. She nearly lost her balance, but his other hand shot out and caught her before she fell posterior-first upon a cactus.
“Don’t touch me,” she snarled. “Thief.”
He released her and pinched between his eyes, as if his head ached. “I did not deliberately absorb your power, Nadia. Surely you must know—”
But then he stiffened again, cursing, and his body arched as he cried out in pain.
Chapter Six
Wizards didn’t automatically know how to handle all forms of dragon magic. It required training, practice, skill.
And Barnabas had never been marked by the fire of a silver dragon’s power. It flamed through him so hot that it burnt white. It scorched away all vestiges of his reality and threw him pell-mell into the future.
A future full of dragons, flames, magical explosions…and Nad
ia in chains.
The little town of Magic was crumbling, despite the residents’ best efforts, their magic, their uniqueness, their strength. None of it could compete with an angry wizard who had the power of prophecy at her beck and call.
He’d lost Nadia. And so many innocents had died in the process that it would burn him to ash.
A foot kicked him in the ribs, as if punishing him for destroying the world, but he came to and realized it was Nadia. The future hadn’t happened yet. She was right beside him on the bank of the springs, and he was alive.
“Get up, you lobcock,” she snarled.
He rolled into a sitting position and attempted to blink the sheen of silver out of his eyes. Grit stuck all over his damp trousers, and his brain felt bruised. Because she was sober now, her magic had worked—in a manner of speaking. The result was disastrous. Or could be. He didn’t have enough experience with silver magic to understand it. “I have had a vision.”
“Of course you have, you stupid, thieving wretch. Have you seen yourself on top of the world? Taking over Tarakona? That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? Are you working for Victoria or for yourself?”
The time for subterfuge was past. “I am here for the Dragon Liberation Front. And I am here for you. To protect you from Victoria.”
She narrowed her eyes. “To use me for yourself.”
“Not for me personally. Nobody in the DLF would force you to do anything, Nadia, you or any dragon. That is our whole cause. Our reason for existing. Please understand.” He wanted nothing more than to reach out to her, to beg her to forgive him, to train her to hoard her magic even when she felt…a certain compatibility with a wizard. While it flattered him to no end, now was not the time.
She stomped toward the water, grabbed up a palmful, and sipped it. Viciously. As if her slurp could tear into his skin. Once finished, she flipped water off her fingers. “I do not and will not understand why you lied to me.”
Reassured by the fact she was willing to talk instead of morph into a dragon and fly away, he rose. “Because you threatened to murder all wizards within two minutes of meeting me,” he said frankly. “I am not in the habit of taking dragon threats lightly. I thought perhaps I would wait until you were clear-headed to explain.”