Dragon Soul Page 15

  “Someone who is highly sought after by just about every being in the Otherworld.” He took a deep breath, his gaze looking beyond me. “You know what magic is, don’t you?”

  “The stuff magicians do? Sure.”

  “No, not that. At least, not what you see mortal magicians do. Magic is real, just as real as dragons are, and it’s entirely possible to imbue objects with it. Magic, that is, not dragons.”

  “You know, my mind is having a bit of a hard time accepting the idea of real magic, but given that I’m a dragon lite, I’m going to tell it to get with the program. Okay. Magic exists, and you can stick it on things. What things?”

  He made a vague gesture. “Pretty much whatever you want. That magic usually makes the object much more powerful, kind of like it enhances the quality of the item.”

  “So if I magicked up my Xena sword, it would become a super Xena sword?” I asked, trying to wrap my brain around that idea.

  “Yes.”

  “Okay. Considering I’m almost a mythical creature that I had no idea existed a few days ago, then I’ll buy the whole magic thing.”

  “Alchemists break magic. That is, we take it from whatever it’s imbued and re-form it into its essential components, rendering the object magically impotent.”

  “And you do this?”

  “I have. Once before.”

  The way he said the words raised all sorts of warning bells in my head. “And?”

  He was silent for a moment, his gaze slipping away from mine. “And the first time I tried it, some people interfered with the process. I should have stopped them, but I was only sixteen at the time, and cocksure. Not to mention the fact that the people in question—dragons, to be exact—weren’t inclined to take no as a suggestion. They paid the ultimate price for their interference—the breaking went wrong, and instead of turning a relic of a demon lord into a harmless object, it exploded with dark power. I was thrown back by the blast, but the four dragons who were with me… they took the brunt of it.”

  “Oh, how horrible,” I said, scooting closer to him. I wanted to wrap my arms around him to comfort him, but I had an idea he had a little more soul-baring to do… not to mention I wasn’t sure if he’d welcome the gesture.

  “It was. More than horrible, it was devastating, especially considering I’d tried to get the dragons to leave while I attempted the breaking. Once I recovered from my injuries, I was visited by a being who claimed he was the progenitor of all dragonkin.”

  “I have a feeling he wasn’t there to chitchat,” I said, risking a little squeeze to his arm.

  He slumped back, his face filled with remembered pain, and suddenly it was too much for me. I clutched him by both arms, pulling him to me so I could hold him and ease the anguish.

  “He wasn’t,” he said, his face pressed into my bosom. His voice was muffled, his breath hot on my skin. I ignored that sensation, though. It wasn’t at all right to get turned on while trying to offer solace. “Would you mind if I asked what you’re doing?”

  “Comforting you,” I said, stroking his back.

  “Ah. I suspected it was something along those lines.”

  “Do you not like to be comforted?” I stopped rubbing his back and peered down at the top of his head.

  “I’m quite enjoying it, as a matter of fact,” he said against my breasts. “But I fear if we remain in this position for much longer, I may be forced to take action.”

  “Action? What sort of action?”

  His tongue snaked out into the valley between my two Xena’d breasts. “We have been discussing nipples, after all.”

  I shivered, my body alternating with flashes of heat and waves of desire. “Great galloping ghosts, hurry up and get off your chest whatever it is you want off, so we can go into my room and go wild on each other.”

  I’d released him by then, and he pulled himself upright, giving me the wickedest grin I’d ever received, a grin that ignited flames of passion.

  Literally. I stubbed out the flames burning merrily about my feet. “Dammit. Go on.”

  He was silent for a moment, his gaze losing a lot of its heat. “Your connection to the dragons is why I felt it important to tell you my history. The dragonkin know me as a murderer of their own kind. I wouldn’t want you to think the stories they tell about me were true.”

  I tugged up my breastpiece, which had shifted a smidgen during the comforting process. “What did this dragon daddy guy want?”

  “Revenge. Well… of a sort. He bound a danegeld to me. Do you know what that is?”

  “I do, as a matter of fact. My roomie is a huge historical fiction fan, and she’s always forcing books on me. It’s a tribute people had to pay their overlord.”

  He nodded. “The First Dragon demanded that I pay for the deaths I’d caused.” He made air quotes around the last word. “He gave me five years to pay back the cost of each life. He said that I didn’t have the payment by the time the entire period was up, I would forfeit my own life.”

  “Well, that’s just bullshit,” I said, outraged on Rowan’s behalf. “How dare this high and mighty guy lay down the law on you. You’re innocent until proven guilty, and if everyone is ignoring the fact that you weren’t responsible, then that’s not your problem.”

  “Unfortunately, it is.” He fell silent, but absently, as if he didn’t realize he was doing it, he took my hand and rested it on his thigh, his finger stroking across the top of my hand.

  Another fire broke out at my feet. I stubbed it out with the toe of my sandals before Rowan could see it.

  “It’s one of the reasons I was in Brazil—if the dragons had known where I was, they would have demanded much of me. The danegeld bound to me meant I couldn’t refuse a legitimate request if it was made of me, so I made sure they wouldn’t find me.”

  “How much do you have to pay the dragon guy?” I asked, thinking of the two thousand dollars I’d received from Mrs. P’s nephew.

  I hated to lose my seed money, but Rowan clearly had a greater need than me.

  His eyes closed for a minute. “I took four lives from the dragonkin. Technically, the danegeld is to replace those lives, but how I’m supposed to do that, I have no idea.”

  He looked so sad, my heart gave a little squeeze.

  “I don’t think you’re to blame at all for the deaths,” I said in an attempt to make him feel better. “And since I’m kind of a dragon, I’d be happy to talk to this guy if you want. Would you like me to comfort you some more, or do you want to be left alone?”

  The corner of his mouth twitched. “I’d have to be dead to say I didn’t want more of your particular brand of comforting, but that isn’t why I wanted to talk to you.”

  “You wanted to tell me that those dragon people think you’re a murderer. But I’m not them, Rowan. I’m a pretty good judge of people, and I can tell you’re not the sort of man who would let people be hurt if you could prevent it.”

  “We’re a pair, aren’t we?” he said with another quirk of his mouth. “Here’s me trying to save the world, and you trying to keep one old lady safe. Oh, what the hell. I’m due a little comforting.”

  He slid an arm around my waist and pulled me close, his head tipping down toward mine. Instantly, my body demanded that I press every part of it against every part of him, but just as I was tipping back my head to accept the kiss that he was surely going to press upon me, his words sunk in.

  I slid my hand up to stop him, and ended up with his mouth pressed against my palm. “What do you mean you’re trying to save the world? Save it from what? Surely not Mrs. P—she might be a bit odd, but she’s no threat to anyone except men who she fancies, and even then, she’s not violent.”

  He gently bit the tip of one of my fingers. “Remember that ring I mentioned yesterday? It’s an important object. Very important. It belongs to a demon lord, who quite badly wants it back. The dragons want it as well, but only so they can destroy it—or rather, have me break its magic.”

  “A ri
ng?” I frowned in thought. “But Mrs. P doesn’t have one. At least, not one she wears.”

  “No she isn’t wearing it, and I assume by her comments that she didn’t keep it in her luggage, which means she must have it on her person. Probably on a chain around her neck.”

  “I don’t think so,” I said slowly, mentally going over the scene in the ship’s shop. Mrs. P had removed her clothing in front of me without batting a single eyelash. “I’ve seen her in her underwear, and she didn’t have on a necklace of any sort.”

  “Well, she has to have it somewhere upon her person, because she intends to use it as some sort of offering to Osiris.”

  I leaned back so I could get a better look at him. “She what?”

  He nodded. “I take it she’s been waiting a long time to return to him. There’s more of a story there than she’s telling, but the important point is that she has the ring, and we need it.”

  “We?” I asked pointedly. “I don’t see where the we comes into it.”

  “If the demon lord gets the ring, he will use it to unleash boundless evils upon the world, both immortal and mortal. That’s one of the reasons why the dragonkin want the magic in the ring broken.”

  I stood up, the fire inside of me dying down to nothing. “I think you’d better leave.”

  He looked confused. “I thought we were going to indulge in nipple exploration, among other things?”

  “I’m sorry about what you went through in the past,” I said after sorting through my emotions. “But I have a feeling you told this to me in order to get me on your side, so I’ll help you take Mrs. P’s ring. No.” I held up a hand when he protested. “I know you said you weren’t going to take it from her without permission, and I appreciate that. But now you’re trying to get me on your side so I’ll help you browbeat her into handing it over, and I’m not going to do that.”

  “There’s no side to be taken,” Rowan said, slowly getting to his feet. His eyes were filled with sadness. “It’s a matter of simply weighing the need of one person against those of the rest of the world.”

  I went to the door and opened it, waiting silently for him to leave. He did with a sigh, his shoulders slumped as if the weight of world was upon him. And it sounded like much of it was, if the dragons really had cornered him at last and forced him into this scenario.

  That didn’t make my heart any less pained. It mourned the loss of Rowan with a sadness I didn’t think I could overcome.

  Eleven

  Ten minutes passed while I paced the main room of the suite, alternating between wanting to go find Rowan, tell him I was sorry, then seduce him like he’d never been seduced before, or standing guard at Mrs. P’s door to make sure that no one tried to get to her. Not that I thought that the priestesses would let anyone in, but I felt obligated to do what I could to protect her.

  Just as I was at the end of my wits with the thoughts that kept squirreling around and around, there was a tap at the cabin door.

  “Rowan,” I said hopefully, my heart singing a happy little song about nipples and manly chests and other masculine parts.

  “Hi! It’s us, Ken and Barbie,” Ken said, now dressed in a mauve linen pantsuit. Barbie stood behind her, holding a small overnight bag. “We heard all about what happened at your hotel. I can’t believe someone shredded all your clothes! That was just spiteful, if you ask me.”

  “Spiteful,” Barbie agreed, shoving the overnight bag at me. “We brought you and your employer some clothing.”

  “We just couldn’t live with ourselves knowing that you and your boss were here without anything to wear but those ghastly costumes.” Ken smiled sympathetically at me. I eyed first her rotund shape, then Barbie’s slim, tall form, and decided not to point out that neither Mrs. P nor I had body types similar to theirs.

  “Thank you, that’s very thoughtful of you. Um. How is it you found out about the attack on our things?”

  “The captain, of course. He was most interested in your experience,” Barbie said, trying to nonchalantly peer over my shoulder into the cabin.

  I could hear faint noises of chatter coming from Mrs. P’s room, but figured it was better to let go the explanation of why there were seven women stuffed into a single bedroom. I had a horrible feeling the captain wouldn’t allow it. I shifted slightly to the side to block the view of Mrs. P’s door, and said in a carefully neutral tone, “That’s awfully sweet of you to think of us.”

  “Sweet is what we do best,” Ken said, beaming at me. “Isn’t it, Barbs? It comes with the territory.”

  Barbie looked less than thrilled, but summoned up a weak smile.

  “Territory?”

  “Yes, you know.” Ken waved a hand in a vague gesture.

  “No, I’m afraid I don’t know,” I said, more confused than ever.

  Her eyes opened wide in surprise. “Oh, didn’t we tell you? Barbs, can you believe it? We didn’t tell Sophea who we are when we met her earlier.”

  “Who are you?” I asked, suddenly worried.

  “We’re cherubs. From the Court of Divine Blood, you know? And so of course we’re here to help you and your employer. We know all about her and what you’re both doing here.”

  If I hadn’t been startled by the news that the two older women standing before me were cherubs, I was by what Ken was hinting. “The court of what, now?”

  Ken giggled while Barbie tsked, and said, “The Court is what mortals think of as heaven. It’s not, of course, but it’s what they based the idea on centuries ago.”

  “And you’re the little winged fat babies who float around ceiling decorations in cathedrals and rococo buildings?” I asked, my skepticism obviously showing, because Ken laughed.

  “No, of course not. That’s the mortal conception of us. We are as we appear, of course,” Barbie said gruffly.

  I had the feeling I’d insulted her, but I was still trying to cope with the idea that these ladies thought they were cherubs. “I’m… to be honest, I’m not quite sure what to say to that. I guess I’ll just go with thank you for your concern. I’ll show Mrs. P what you brought us, and if there’s anything we can’t use, we’ll send it back.” I edged the door closed a few inches.

  “If you need any help, any help at all, feel free to call on us,” Ken said with a glance over my shoulder. “We will be happy to do whatever you need. Isn’t that right, Barbie?”

  “Whatever you need,” Barbie agreed.

  Ken beamed at me and patted me on the arm braced against the door. “Any time of night or day. We don’t mind being disturbed at all.”

  “Gotcha. Thank you,” I said simply.

  “Even something minor, like taking your friend to lunch for a bit so you can be with your boyfriend. Oh yes, we know about him, too!” Ken giggled. “He’s so very rugged and handsome, isn’t he? You’re a lucky girl. I just wish I had a man half so attractive.”

  “He is handsome, isn’t—”

  “I haven’t had a partner in ever so long,” Ken interrupted me, a wistful expression wiping out her sunny smile.

  I shot a startled look at Barbie, wondering what their status was.

  “Oh, Barbs and I aren’t partners,” Ken said, rightly interpreting that look. “I mean, we are, but Barbie is—I would never consider myself—”

  Barbie grabbed Ken’s arm and gave her a none-too-gentle shove. “Let us know if you need our help,” Barbie said in what I was coming to think of as her usual terse method of speaking.

  “Will do, and thank you again.”

  I closed the door on the sound of Ken apologizing to Barbie. “That’s an unhealthy relationship if I ever saw one,” I said to myself. I set down the overnight bag, and with a speculative glance at Mrs. P’s bedroom door, made up my mind. I knocked on it.

  “Enter,” she commanded loudly over the babble of the models.

  I frowned as I opened her door. “You were supposed to lock it.”

  Mrs. P sat on the bed, one of the priestess models painting Mrs. P’s toenails.
I could hear the shower running in the bathroom, and sitting in a circle on the floor playing cards were the remaining ladies. “I have the sisters,” she said with a shrug.

  I did a double take at Mrs. P, not because of the situation, but due to her appearance. “Did you do—did you put on some makeup or something?”

  “Why would I do that? Do you think I should get a bikini wax? Khenut says that a landing strip is the in thing.”

  “Totes the in thing,” one of the card-playing models said.

  “Or perhaps a Brazilian would be better? I read in a magazine that those are also popular.” Mrs. P’s face scrunched up, and I couldn’t help noticing that not only was she gaining color to her skin, there seemed to be a lot less of it on her neck and face. Excess skin, that is. “I have always loved Brazilians.”

  “I… you…” I stammered, staring in disbelief.

  She gave a dream sigh, and gave a catlike stretch. “The men are so masculine. Very dominating, but passionate. And can they dance!”

  “I love a man who can dance,” said Bunefer, who was capping the bottle of nail polish. “It’s so romantic, isn’t it?”

  “Okay, first, that’s not the kind of Brazilian that the magazine means,” I said, scooting around the models on the floor in order to sit on the end of Mrs. P’s bed. “And second, I don’t want to tell you what to do with your own body, but I’m not sure you really have a pressing reason to… er… prune down there.”

  Bunefer giggled, and slid off the bed, saying, “Bath free? I so need a bubbly soak,” when Ipy emerged from the bathroom with her head wrapped in a towel.

  “Ah. Champion. You’re back?” she asked when she saw me.

  “Yes.” I glanced at the other ladies. “I wanted to ask Mrs. P a few questions.”

  Ipy took possession of the window seat and began to towel dry her hair. “Please yourself. Deal me in to the next round, girls. The latest alimony check is burning a hole in my pocket, and mama needs a new Gucci bracelet.”

  “Mrs. P,” I said in a low voice, then tsked and plucked the magazine from her hands. “I want to ask you a couple of questions, and I would appreciate it if you’d tell me the truth.”