Dragon Soul Read online

  “Our feet are on fire,” I said breathlessly a few minutes later, when we managed to pry ourselves apart.

  “Up to the knees,” he said, then kissed me again. I melted against him, wondering how I had ever existed without him.

  A little pang smote me when I remembered thinking the same thing about Jian, but I tucked that memory away gently. Life went on, and although I would never stop loving Jian, it didn’t mean I couldn’t open my heart to someone else.

  “Why are you crying, love?” Rowan brushed a dusty tear from the corner of my eye. “You forget that I’m a dragon now, and pretty much immortal. The monster probably couldn’t have killed me.”

  “It’s not that,” I said with a little shake of my head. “It’s just… I was remembering… oh, hell. Never mind. Let’s get back on the ship before something else happens. Besides, I’m starving and it has to be lunchtime. I heard the bell go.”

  “That wasn’t a meal bell,” he said, taking my hand as we maneuvered our way up the gangway. “It was the signal announcing the start of the first challenge. At least that’s what Gabriel told me, which is why, when I saw you standing outside, I went out to help you.”

  “Where is he, speaking of immortal beings?” I asked, glancing around as we walked the couple of flights to the top deck. “I’d have thought he would be on hand to help out with that since that’s why he said he and May were here.”

  “I believe they went to protect Mrs. P in case the beast breeched the ship.”

  “She has her priestesses,” I pointed out.

  He smiled. “And just like you, he prefers to make sure of her safety without relying on—what did you call them last night? Underwear models?”

  “They sure could be,” I said dryly, and decided that it behooved me to check on Mrs. P’s welfare, too. Just so I could satisfy my conscience that I was earning my way.

  We hurried up to the cabin, skidding to a stop at the sight of bodies strewn around the sitting room. Pitchers of icy margaritas melted in puddles that leaked into pools of wet black substances. Stacked tidily along one wall were three bodies of men in various colors, sizes, and shapes. In the middle of the room, Mrs. P sat serene on a chair, while the priestesses puttered around with mops, towels, and trash bags, clearly tidying up the results of what must have been a horrible attack.

  May and Gabriel emerged from the bathroom, towels in hand.

  I gawked for a minute, then asked, “What the hell happened here?”

  “As we suspected, Bael arranged for demons to swarm the ship as soon as the first challenge started,” Gabriel said, wiping his hands and looking in distaste at the corpses. As we watched, they started evaporating, leaving behind oily black smears on the flooring.

  “How did you—” I looked around for signs of a weapon, but saw none. “How did you kill them? Or rather, destroy their forms?”

  May smiled and finished dabbing at a black stain on her shirt. “Dragon form doesn’t need weapons. At least, not against some demons. And the priestesses helped, of course.”

  “We intended to take care of the demons ourselves,” Ipy said, picking up a severed hand and tossing it into a bag, along with a knife stuck into half a pineapple. The shaft of the knife was stained black. “But when it became clear that the dragon and his mate would handle destroying the demons, we simply protected our sister while they did the hard work.”

  “I take it you took care of the first challenge?” Gabriel asked, nodding toward my Xena sword, which Rowan still held.

  “Yes.” He glanced toward Mrs. P, frowning. “We need to have a talk.”

  She shrugged. “It won’t change anything.”

  “What won’t?” I asked, confused, nodding when May murmured something about them returning to their cabin to change their clothes. They left, and since the models had the cleanup well in hand, Rowan and I sat with Mrs. P.

  “I see that your man has been made a dragon.” She flashed Rowan a surprisingly flirtatious grin. “I did tell you that the First Dragon would demand payment.”

  “I had no idea that the payment would consist of my… self,” Rowan answered somewhat acidly, although that expression faded and he added, “It could have been much worse. I have to say that being a dragon is rather… liberating.”

  “You may not have my shiny,” Mrs. P said, and I let my gaze roam over her. Dammit, she was getting even younger yet, just in the space of an hour. Her hair was entirely brown now, a glossy walnut that made my plain-old-black-hair heart envious. In addition, the wrinkles were gone, all but a few around her neck and eyes, and her arms were toned and smooth. “My beau needs it. Without it, we can’t leave.”

  “Why don’t you just stay here with him?” I asked. “You’re both in the Underworld—can’t you make your life here?”

  “Not so long as Isis is here,” she said with a shudder.

  I shot Rowan a look. His lips twitched, and I was swamped with the need to kiss him. And lick him. And touch every inch of his wonderful body.

  “She would never let us live in peace, and as she’s bound to Duat, the only solution is for us to leave,” Mrs. P said with a toss of her head. “So all of your entreaties are for naught. I will not give up my shiny.”

  “Maybe you don’t have to,” I said slowly, thinking over everything Rowan had mentioned about the ring. I faced him, trying not to notice how bright the gold flecks were in his eyes. Or how the long sweep of heavy muscle in this thighs was outlined in his pants. Or that enticing bit of chest that was exposed by his shirt.

  I wondered briefly if I would be able to talk him into a little rendezvous before lunch.

  “What are you thinking?” he asked, startling me for a moment with the idea that he could read my smutty thoughts.

  A swift glance at Mrs. P—now looking approximately my age—had me biting back a flip answer. The last thing I wanted was a youngish, attractive Mrs. P flirting with Rowan. “I was thinking that if the goal of the dragons is to keep the ring from being used by the demon lord, then the solution is as easy as letting this Osiris fellow have it. If he needs it to get out of Duat, then he’s not likely to let a demon get it, and once he’s out into the real world, he won’t need it. He can simply give it over to the dragons, who can do what they want with it.”

  Rowan was shaking his head even before I finished.

  Mrs. P clicked her tongue and rose from the chair. “I’m going to have a milk bath. My skin needs hydrating. Khenut, do we have any coconut milk left?” She wandered off into the bathroom.

  “Osiris will need to consume the power of the ring in order to leave Duat,” Rowan explained to me. “It will in effect be destroyed by that act.”

  “So then what’s the problem?” I asked, confused. “It’ll be gone, which is what the dragon people—what we dragons—want, right?”

  “That’s correct, except the essence of the ring will remain behind. And as evidenced by this”—Rowan waved his hand at the black smears on the floor and wall—“Bael does not have any trouble sending demons into the Underworld. They will simply wait for Osiris to use the ring, then collect the essence and take that back to Bael. He will use that to imbue another tool, and we’ll be back to the position of Bael having two out of three tools needed.”

  “Oh. Crap.” I thought for a moment, not seeing a clear solution. “This essence… that’s what you make?”

  He grimaced. “It’s what alchemists create when they break magic, yes.”

  “And what do you do with it?”

  He leaned back in his chair, idly watching as one of the priestesses set three bags of trash outside the door. “Generally it’s used to create new magical objects. Some essences, especially pure ones, can be used in the formation of a quintessence, which is the most valuable substance in the Otherworld.”

  “So if we could be on hand when Osiris uses the ring, then you could get the essence stuff, and use it before Bael and his cohorts got to it, yes?”

  “I thought about that when Mrs. P told me w
hat her goal was. It would be possible, but I’d need to have an object ready to receive the essence, and I have no way to prepare one here.”

  “Then we’re just going to have to come up with another plan,” I insisted. “Because I’m just not going to steal that ring from her.”

  “It’s pitting one woman’s happiness against that of the world,” he warned.

  “Two people who are in love and simply want to live together in peace,” I said, standing, my throat feeling tight. Emotions that I hadn’t felt since I met Jian swirled around inside me, leaving me more confused than ever.

  Did I want to be Rowan’s mate? I knew, despite his posturing before the other dragons, that if I told him we had no future together, he would not force me into one against my will. But the thought of going through life without him was frankly unbearable.

  “We can talk about it later. We still have to get through the second challenge before the situation comes to a crisis.” Rowan got to his feet as well. “I’ll put your sword back. It certainly came in handy.”

  “Rowan…” I put my hand on his chest, feeling both the smooth cotton of his shirt, and beneath it, the warmth and hardness of his chest. “Do you…” I bit my lip, not able to come right out and ask what I wanted to know. I waited a few seconds until the last priestess had drifted back into Mrs. P’s room before asking, “Do you really think I’m your mate? It’s not just because I was Jian’s mate, and thus am able to fill the position, is it?”

  “It has nothing to do with him, and everything to do with us.” He tugged me forward, my body pressed against his in a way that highlighted our differences. “It’s you I want, Sophea. Not any other woman, just you. We were meant to be together—I see that now that the First Dragon opened my eyes. We were fated to travel to this moment in time.”

  I tipped my head up to kiss him, saying against his lips, “Then imagine us being separated and doomed never to be together. Because that’s what you’re damning Mrs. P to if the ring is taken from her.”

  “Damn it,” he said, his eyes bright with passion as he sucked my lower lip into his mouth for a few seconds. “I’d say I hate it when you’re right and I’m wrong, but the truth is, I love the way your mind works. You are absolutely right, of course. I can’t imagine my life without you, and I swear to you that I’ll spend every moment of my life making sure you’re as happy as you possibly can be.”

  And at that moment, I knew with a bright, shining rightness that I would not leave Rowan. “And I promise to make your lips quirk the way they do, and to yell at you when you’re unreasonable around the other wyverns, and most of all, to make you happy that the First Dragon turned you into someone who could have a wyvern’s mate.”

  His lips were hot on mine, his tongue doing a little dance around mine that made my toes curl. “You have to keep the costumes, though. I like this one, but the Xena one is very…”

  “Kick-ass?” I suggested when he hesitated. “Indicative of a strong woman who doesn’t need a man? Representative of the inner strength of women everywhere?”

  “Sexy,” he said, then gave a mock yelp when I pinched his side. “Very kick-ass,” he amended. “Although I’d appreciate it if you took me with you for the next challenge.”

  “Pfft,” I said, brushing that away as we went to find some lunch. “It’s just a lake of fire. We dragons are all over fire.”

  “Famous last words,” he intoned as we headed off for the dining salon.

  Fourteen

  It wasn’t until later that evening that I asked Rowan a question that had been niggling at the back of my brain.

  “I have something I want to ask you,” I said, entering the main part of our cabin where Rowan sat texting someone he said was learned in the ways of magic for ideas on an object he could cobble together before the ring was broken.

  He looked up, but before I could say anything more, Mrs. P emerged from her room clad in a Greek goddess outfit, all long, white, floaty dress, gold braided girdle, and dark brown hair curled on top of her head in an elaborate Grecian coiffure. She looked to be in her early thirties now, and I figured at the rate she was growing younger, she’d hit puberty around midnight. The priestess collective trailed after her, each in what I thought of as club dresses—short skirts, tight bodices, and very high heels. Where did they pack all of those clothes?

  “Not going to Samba Night?” Mrs. P asked as they all pranced past us, giggling and chatting excitedly. “They have a man giving lessons if you don’t know how to dance.”

  Her eyes were almost entirely sapphire blue now, her face unlined, her flesh plump and smooth and radiating good health. As she glided past Rowan, she reached for the small notebook he had left at the edge of the table, but I tsked loudly at her. “Ahem. Not yours, Miss Lightfingers.”

  She clicked her tongue and gave me a wide grin.

  “And no, we don’t care to go to Samba Night. We have to spend our time trying to figure out how to save the world and still let you and your boyfriend escape his wife so you can live happily ever after.”

  “Your loss,” she said, blithely ignoring the fact that we were sacrificing our time in order to work on the problem. “Perhaps the delicious Gabriel will want to samba with me. Won’t that make his mate furious? Too bad you’ll miss it. Ah well, happy sexing later, when you are done working.”

  “He really does have marvelous buttocks,” Bunefer said to the others, her gaze on Rowan’s backside as they drifted past. “Makes one yearn for a quarter to do a little bouncing-off-of, doesn’t it?”

  “I once knew a man who had three buttocks,” Gilly announced to the others, closing the door behind them before I could hear more.

  “In some ways,” I said when the door closed behind her, “I’m going to miss Mrs. P and her gaggle of underwear models. And in other ways, I’m going to be incredibly glad to have her off my hands. Especially this younger, nubile version of her. I mean, it was bad enough when she was an old coot, because she was like a wacky grandma and no one took her flirting seriously. But now… now she’s gorgeous.”

  “Only if you like that type,” Rowan said absently, making some notes in the notebook I had returned to him.

  “I’d ask you what type you like, but you’d just be gallant and recite a list of qualities that applied to me. Are you getting any help from your magic dude?”

  The corner of his delectable mouth quirked. “I never had a type to begin with, just so you know. And not a lot. Every suggestion he has is beyond what resources we have available in Duat.”

  “Could you go out and get some stuff and bring it back?”

  “No one can leave Duat until his or her soul is judged.”

  “Oh, that’s right. Gilly said something about that. Damn.”

  Rowan stood up, tucked away his phone, and stretched. “I’ve had enough of beating my head against that particular wall. What was the question you wanted to ask me?”

  “Hmm? Ah.” I eyed him. “It might be too invasive a question, but considering parts of you have invaded parts of me, I figure it’s within the grounds of reasonable.”

  “That’s right. What’s the question?”

  “Besides, we’re going to be together for the rest of our lives, so if I don’t ask, I’ll spend countless months wondering. Years, maybe.”

  “Agreed,” he said, putting his hands on my hips and pulling them to his. Instantly my female bits woke up and demanded some hot and heavy Rowan action. “What is it you want to know?”

  “And you know, I think communication is a very important part of any relationship. If there’s one thing I can fault Jian on, other than not watching for murderous demons in cars, it was the fact that he kept secrets from me. Like the fact that he was a dragon. That’s a pretty big secret, don’t you think?”

  “One of the biggest.” He rubbed his hips against mine. “I will not keep secrets from you, but I may well think about tormenting you mercilessly with my tongue and one or two fingers if you don’t stop avoiding asking me w
hatever it is you’re curious about.”

  “That,” I said, sliding my hands under his shirt, and stroking both of his adorable little nipple nubs, “is not going to get me to ask the question. Unless you tell me exactly what body parts will be the recipient of the tormenting.”

  He leaned down and gently bit my lower lip. “Stop it.”

  I giggled. “All right. I just wanted to make sure you’re on board with the whole communication thing. It’s important to me.” I held up a hand when he growled deep in his chest. “I wanted to know what it feels like to be a dragon.”

  “I told you—it feels powerful.”

  “Yes, but there has to be more to it than that. When you were around the other dragons, you were all caveman protective and acting like an adorable but enraging man. With the monster, you were pure heroic, and not that you weren’t heroic before, when you helped kick demon butt and all, but that was nothing to what you did with a sword. I didn’t even know you could use one!”

  “I don’t. Or rather, I didn’t, but managed to learn fast.”

  “Right now, for instance,” I said, nibbling on his earlobe. “What do you feel?”

  He was silent for a moment, his hands tightening on my hips. “Aroused. Powerful. Dominant but protective. Do that last thing again.”

  I nipped the underside of his chin. He growled again.

  “That just makes me… it’s difficult to put into words. It’s like what I felt before I was changed, only magnified by a power of ten.” He closed his eyes for a moment, his chest moving against my fingers as he drew in deep breaths. “I can smell the scent of you, wildflowers in a sunny meadow teasing me and raising my temperature. There’s a fire deep inside me and when you are near, when you touch me, it courses through my blood, setting me alight with the need to claim you.”