Wyoming Dynasty (American Dragons Book 10)

by Aaron Crash

  Tessa brightened. “And we could bring Hwedo. She’s been there before, and it might help her deal better with her situation. This is a great idea!”

  “It would be nice to be around books again.” The elf queen licked her lips and tasted the barista on them. “Are there erotic books there?”

  Tessa leaned forward. “Oh, yes, I found them right away. I have a knack for finding porn.”

  “You no longer need pornography,” the elf queen whispered. “You have me. I have the fantasies of millions in my head.” She reached and grabbed Tessa’s tit, gripping it hard. “I know when you want it rough.”

  The barista gasped.

  Quinn licked her finger and traced her wetness around Tessa’s lips. “And I know when you want it sweet and gentle.”

  “I think I want both tonight,” Tessa whispered.

  “I will give you both.” Quinn grabbed the woman and kissed her until both were gasping. The elf didn’t get gentle with Tessa, not for a while, but when she did, the barista loved every minute of it.

  Chapter Seventeen

  STEVEN CALLED HIS MOM, down in Cherry Creek, where she lived with Tessa’s mother, brother, and sister. And the sister’s fiancé—he couldn’t forget about Peter.

  Florence Whipp thought about moving to Cheyenne, or even moving into one of the rooms in the Perimeter Hotel, but she didn’t want to leave the Rosses. Jared was bringing friends around, and he was having a great time in school, even more so now that everyone knew Tessa Ross was his sister.

  Also, Steven’s mom was helping plan Abigail Ross’s wedding, and she loved that. For fifty plus years, her life had been in the Denver Metro area. She didn’t want to move, and Steven could visit often. He was only a Magica Porta spell away. Or, if he felt like flying, he’d wing his way down. He didn’t have to hide from the humans anymore.

  Steven stood in the bright morning sunlight, near the firepit in the eastern outdoor area. He was taking a little bag for the trip to France as well as the Night Lance. He had his phone to his ear. “So, Mom, would you have any idea where I could find your ex-husband?”

  “Joe Whipp?” His mom’s laughter was more surprised than bitter. “No, Steven, I don’t know where he is. He hasn’t been around in years, and do you know what? I’m glad. Why on Earth would you want to contact him?”

  Steven didn’t want to go into the long story. He kept it short and simple. “I have a dragon thing he might be able to help with.”

  More amused laughter. “Joe Whipp isn’t one to help anyone ever. He’s a narcissist, or that’s what they call self-centered assholes nowadays.”

  He had to smile at his mom’s cursing. She rarely did it.

  “Okay, Mom, I’m gonna go.”

  “Love you, Steven.” She didn’t hang up. “Wait, Steven, I have to say, while I would never marry Joe Whipp again, I am grateful that he brought you into my life. Joe had his moments—they were few and far between, but he did have them.”

  “Thanks, Mom, thanks for the info. Love you lots.”

  He hung up and thought about what she’d said. In some ways, she really had forgiven Joe Whipp for his many sins. And yet, she thought he was crazy to go looking for the gambler. She hadn’t said it, but there was a good chance he was dead.

  Bud was also searching for Joe Whipp, as were the Wayne twins. Worst-case scenario, they would reach out to their own father. And all the while, Aria was holding her breath, waiting for her own father to either leave or come and say goodbye to her.

  It was ironic all of this father stuff was happening all at the same time. And yet, Steven knew his real father, though gone, was still watching over him. Meeting the Gaia Beta’s version of Stefan Drokharis had opened his eyes to how good, brave, and heroic the man had been, and Steven felt pride that they shared blood. It gave him hope like nothing else.

  Speaking of Bud, Quinnestri had apologized to him in front of everyone in the breakfast café that morning. Their consigliere and CEO took the apology very graciously.

  The elf queen, Aria, Tessa, and Hwedo gathered with Steven by the firepit, their gear packed. Uchiko was there as well, to say goodbye to the Malian dragon. The ninja had met Hwedo before, back when Uchiko ran evil errands for Rahaab.

  The Malian dragon wore her zippered and buckled desert robes of red, gold, and black.

  Tessa wore a skirt, black boots, and red top covered by a black leather vest. She had four suitcases, one of which contained nothing but books. She also had her leather satchel, which held her guns, her gun belts, and the three volumes of the Drokharis Grimoire.

  Seeing her shoulder the familiar leather satchel brought back so many memories of their life together. Steven felt a lump of emotion form in his throat.

  The barista caught him looking, and she knew exactly what he was feeling. She mouthed the words, I love you...

  Steven answered her. I love you too.

  Mouse sarcasm ruined the moment. “Wait, Tessa, you’re going to a library and you’re bringing books? Really?”

  “What? I’m in the middle of five, and I can’t leave them behind.”

  The blonde looked up at the blue sky, blinking, and let her frustration show. “Have you ever heard of an e-book, Tessa?”

  The barista groaned at the petite woman. “Uh, Mouse, you’re not going, so this doesn’t affect your life at all, so fuck you very much.”

  That made Mouse laugh.

  Mouse, Sabina, and Zoey had all come out to say goodbye as well. Reggie was awake and giggling, and Steven’s heart ached. Should he leave? It was only going to be an overnighter, like his trip to Xanadu, and yet, every hour he was away from his baby meant an hour of her life he’d miss.

  He had to remind himself that he was probably immortal, or at least he could live tens of thousands of years, and he and Reggie would have tons of time together. Only, in some ways, that didn’t matter. No matter how long his life, the reality was, Reggie would only be a baby for just so long.

  He went over to them, and Zoey hugged him close and kissed him. There were tears in the bear girl’s eyes, but they were happy tears of love for her Prime and their pack.

  Sabina was next, and she loved it when he held her and Reggie together, in a tight embrace. Reggie gurgled happily. Sabina, eyes glowing green, whispered into his ear, “If Reggie sleeps well tonight, I might come and join you and the others. This mama needs some adult time, comprende?”

  “You’re welcome to join us,” Steven said. The Latina Magician would have no problem creating a portal to get to them, and she’d perfected her telepathy using Divination magic.

  As for Mouse’s goodbye, she stood on her tippy toes to give him a long, wet kiss, full of tongue.

  “Super hot,” Tessa said breathily.

  “I could kiss him so much better,” Hwedo said.

  Mouse broke the kiss, laughed at the Malian dragon, and stepped back. Keeping her sarcastic tongue under control was a heroic act. There was a ton of passion in the kiss, and Steven wondered if she was already taking the tanaquil. Probably not.

  Hwedo let out an annoyed, “Let us go. I am looking forward to returning to Rahaab’s French Aerie. I have several books there myself, some of which I wrote.”

  “Because you are a writer as well as a badass,” Mouse said. “Sure. I’m gonna go.” And then, under her breath, she added, “Before I fucking puke.”

  Steven cast the Magica Porta spell, and they appeared in the main chamber of the library Aerie, a hidden space above the ramparts of Mont-Saint-Michel, surrounded by the ocean. He dropped his bag and gripped the Night Lance.

  Bookshelves lined every single wall, stretching up hundreds of feet. To access them, there were ladders, steps, and landings, all with comfortable chairs and tables. Lamps were littered around the place, and all electricity came from an IEG. While they hadn’t been there in a while, there should still be a charge.

  Stained-glass windows threw light across the books and scrolls in the vast collection of shelves. There were at least t
en stories of tomes on every subject, from across this world and other worlds, for Rahaab’s reading habits crossed realities. That would be good. They might find a clue on who this Collidium character might be.

  The room was narrow at the tip, where they stood, and it expanded out as it went up, like an upside-down pyramid. At the very top was a balcony that led to a series of rooms. They’d redesigned and redecorated most of them, got rid of all the furniture, and replaced the beds. They didn’t want anything to remind them of Rahaab.

  Hwedo dropped her own bag. She walked up a set of steps, in wonder, glancing about. She pointed. “That window is different. Why is it different?” Her voice came out thickly.

  Steven was a little worried by her reaction. “We broke it when we fought you here, remember?” They’d replaced whatever had been there before with a quiet scene of Mathaal, as a dragon reading several books, with the Rocky Mountains in the distance. If you looked closely, between the books, there was a square of peach cobbler on a plate next to a cup of coffee.

  The Malian dragon nodded, frowning. “Yes, I remember the fight. And we smashed through the window, outside, above the ocean.” She blinked as a tear streamed down her face. “We were going to win. We were going to crush you. We were...”

  And then she screamed, threw her arms up, and shifted into her partial form. She didn’t have the teardrop amulet that would allow her clothes to shift with her, so she tore out of her robes and flew up to the top of the library and onto the walkway far above.

  Quinnestri, shrouded in purple light, floated upward, her white dress flowing behind her, as well as her blonde hair, come undone.

  Steven could get up there quicker. He accessed Transvexri, and in seconds, he felt the Morta threads throughout the world and found one that took him up to the top. He vanished in a splash of dark fluid.

  “Hey!” Tessa protested. “We’re going to have to mop that up!”

  Steven wasn’t worried about a little housecleaning. Bringing Hwedo to the old Aerie might’ve been a mistake.

  He appeared in front of Hwedo, which made her scream. She breathed out fire, and he captured that in a ball of BlackBlood, extinguishing it. He then reached out with Morta tentacles and gripped the purple-scaled dragon woman. “Hwedo, stop! We can talk about this!” He still had the elven spear, but he wasn’t going to use it if he didn’t have to.

  Quinnestri floated over the railing of the balcony and landed on the marble tiles, barefoot, glowing purple, and holding her axes.

  Hwedo regarded her with the vertical slits of her reptilian eyes. “You are the Lyran woman. You are Quinnestri Uweneel. Rahaab spoke highly of you. He didn’t like you helping the Dragonknights, and yet, he never tried to stop you. He never talked of murdering you.”

  Quinn smiled. “That is an odd way of praising me, and this does not reflect well on your former husband.”

  “Not my husband!” Hwedo began the shift into her dragon form, but only enough to shred the Morta coils holding her. She turned human, dropped to the floor, and rolled across the marble. She came up in seconds, her movements fueled with SerpentGrace. She punched him in the face, plucked the spear from his hands, and whirled.

  Quinn met the Malian woman with her purple kavs, though she wasn’t aiming at the Malian dragon with the edges. She struck with the dull sides, using them more as clubs than axes.

  And Hwedo could’ve hacked the elf with the wide blade of the spear or driven the sharp tip into her. Instead she used the butt, driving it into Quinn’s side. The elf whirled and struck Hwedo’s arm.

  The dragon shrieked and snorted fire into the elf’s face, and Quinn’s purple shield flashed, keeping her safe.

  Steven threw tentacles, and Hwedo hacked through them, moving quickly, so fast he couldn’t latch onto her core with any of his Animus-draining abilities.

  Quinn drew the marble up around Hwedo’s clawed feet, nearly capturing her, but again, Hwedo’s movements were so fluid, so controlled, that she seemed impossible to catch. She truly was remarkable. Maybe some of her bragging was justified.

  Steven accessed his Morta core and teleported himself in front of her, and then, when she swung the haft of her spear, he vanished, appeared behind her. She tried to strike him again. She only got the Night Lance wet with the dark ichor of his spells. Another bit of Transvexri, and he was in front of her again, and this time, he was able to ensnare her. He wrapped her up tight in BlackBlood tendrils and slammed her to the ground. He floated above her, and then, yes, he was able to use Corropor to take over her body. She shifted human.

  Face-to-face, Hwedo stared into his eyes. She wanted to show him how broken she was, how close to the edge she was. Also, the fight had turned her on, he could feel it. She’d said something about getting turned on as a dragon but shifting human for the actual sex. Was that a part of her sexuality?

  “Magica Divinatio,” he whispered.

  Yes, her thoughts reached into his mind. I want you to know me. I want you to understand me.

  The long nights in the fire desert lasted forever. Hwedo had found a forgotten temple, and it became her home, a place of shadows, stone, strange writing, and strange monsters. This was another world. This might’ve been another universe, and Hwedo was lost there, alone, trapped, with only herself and her memories.

  Long nights huddled against the cold, and days of flying to find the oasis where there was water, and tall trees that sent fluffy seeds into the air. Those trees bore hard, bitter fruit she could eat, and the animals that came there, big birds with saw-like teeth, or the occasional slatherack, those she could eat as well.

  Hwedo thought of exploring the desert, to maybe find Shamhat, and yet, she was still so hurt. And the wastes were vast, and there were strange beings that traveled in caravans. They were humanoid, with blue-black skin and different colors of hair. White, red, black...with demonic faces, or at least the men looked like demons, with huge ugly noses, fangs, and inky black slits for eyes. Pointed ears. Hideous. The women were comelier even with their four arms. They had complicated shoulder joints. All the arms joined at the top of their bodies.

  These things could cast magic, they could fly, and it became a game to stay away from the desert djinn.

  Until one day, a woman ran from a caravan of cages and splashed into the oasis.

  This was her little blossom. This was Uliana, with her soft black hair, her beautiful face, and her four delicate hands.

  Uliana was a slave girl, escaped from the desert djinn, and she found a home with Hwedo. They learned each other’s language, they talked, they made love, and Uliana traded with some of the other djinn for vegetables, rice, meats, and other supplies. They had a good life together. Hwedo kept her little blossom safe, and Uliana kept her dragon lady in love.

  They knew happiness, until the day Uliana got sick, and no spell would cure her, and she died.

  Because fate is cruel, and the worlds don’t care, and all the universe spins onward, across the infinite Stair. In the end, human, dragon, elf, or djinn, they were all just insects caught on a wind they could never understand.

  Steven’s spell ended.

  He blinked. That other world seemed important, but he wasn’t sure why or how. The temple where Hwedo lived, those markings, he wondered if he could find out what they were and what they might mean.

  Quinn bent and touched Hwedo’s face. Steven ended the Corropor freezing her.

  The Malian woman’s eyes begged them to understand her, to forgive her, to comfort her. “Rahaab called us his wives but he was never a husband. He saw as a lower creatures. We meant nothing to him. Nothing.” The woman couldn’t hold back sobs.

  By that time, Aria and Tessa appeared. They all gathered around the crying woman, who crawled into Steven’s lap so he could hold her.

  “How could I be defeated?” Hwedo asked them, or perhaps she was asking herself. “We lost, but it was impossible. We had all the power. We failed. I failed. Over and over. And we lost everything.”

 
Quinnestri took Hwedo’s hand. “I know about failure. I know about losing everything.”

  “Disappointment? Failure? Being nothing in the eyes of a Dragonlord?” Aria nodded. “I know these feelings as well.”

  “I was Ms. Failure,” Tessa agreed. “Fucking Steven was the cleaning boy. And then we all became so much more.”

  “How can I ever fit in with you all?” Hwedo asked. “You were my enemies.”

  “Those days are gone,” Steven said. “The wars are over. If you let us, we can all be your friends.”

  “I love having friends,” Tessa was a little too exuberant.

  And yet, it made Hwedo laugh a little, just a little, out of regret, maybe, or at the memories. “In Rahaab’s Escort, we had to prove ourselves to him, to each other, and everything was a competition. We had to be the best. And I was.”

  Steven expected Tessa to be the one to point out that Steven’s Escort was completely different.

  She didn’t.

  Unexpectedly, it was Aria who spoke up. “To be a part of Steven’s Escort is to be a friend among friends, a lover among lovers, a wife among wives. We are together, forever, crushing our enemies and creating better worlds. We do not have time for competition. All of us must be at our best. Always.”

  The two women stared into each other’s eyes, and some understanding rose in Hwedo’s eyes.

  Steven loved his wives and how compassionate they could be.

  Chapter Eighteen

  THE MASTER BEDROOM of the Mont-Saint-Michel Aerie had a big open balcony with views of the coastline and the green fields of France to the south. The central rooms faced the ocean, and they too had balconies, as did the small kitchen. The dining room could be opened in good weather, or they could pull out an awning and close the windows in rain.

  All the bedrooms had fountains, with water brought up from cisterns, as well as fireplaces, which might be useful later. One of the best parts was the master bathroom’s tub, a huge section of marble with a nice pool at the center. A spiral staircase led up to an office at the very top of the Aerie, which had a desk, a fireplace, and grand views of the horizon.