Love in the Time of Dragons Read online

  “Some of them,” the first girl allowed. “Not the really hairy ones. They are just . . . ugh.” She shuddered and I started glancing around to find another spot. “I mean, my god, the things they stuff into their Speedos! It’s positively obscene!”

  My phone burbled at me just at that moment, causing me to send up a prayer of thanks as I flipped it open, expecting to hear Brom asking if he could have another advance on his allowance for some horrible instrument of mummification. “Hello?”

  It wasn’t his voice that greeted me, however. “Sullivan? What the hell are you doing still in England? Brom said you were staying there! Is this some sort of a joke?”

  “Gareth.” The two girls glanced over their shoulders at me. I half turned away and lowered my voice. “I wondered when you would think to call me.”

  “Think to call you? Are you daft? I’ve been trying to get hold of you for weeks. What is Kostich making you do?”

  “It’s a bit complicated,” I said, mindful of the girls, although they seemed to have moved on to judging the qualities of every male who wandered past. “I’m still here because I had an episode.”

  “What?” His shriek almost deafened me. “When? How? What the hell are you thinking?”

  “I wasn’t—I was asleep. And I don’t know how or why, it just happened. I’ve been staying at the house of some people Kostich was working with. They took me and Brom in.”

  “Did you manifest?” he asked quietly, but I could hear the eagerness in his voice.

  “No. But that brings up a very good question—how long have I been doing that?”

  “What?” His voice was wary.

  “How long have I been making gold for you? Dr. Kostich says you’re immortal. How long have we been married?”

  “You know how long we’ve been married—ten years. You’ve seen the license.”

  I had? “I don’t remember any of that. Have you been doing something to my memory?”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” He sounded furious now, speaking in a low, ugly voice that sent goose bumps up my arms. “If you’re trying to distract me because you manifested for some bastard who took you in—”

  “I just told you I didn’t. Fortunately, no one had large chunks of lead lying around.”

  “Fortunately? You stupid bitch. Do you have any idea how much that’s going to cost us by missing it? How the hell am I going to tell Ruth?”

  “I don’t know, and I don’t appreciate being called names. Look, Gareth, things are a bit confused right now. Dr. Kostich kicked me out of the magister’s guild, and I—”

  “He what?” Profound swearing followed, for a good two minutes. “What did you do?”

  “Nothing, I swear.”

  “Then why did he kick you out?”

  “It’s because of these”—I cast a glance over my shoulder, but the girls had their heads together, watching as three young men in soccer outfits strolled past—“because of some dragons.”

  “Dragons?” he repeated, his voice suddenly very small.

  “Yes. The people I’m staying with are dragons. They’ve asked Brom and me to stay with them for a bit while I try to figure things out.”

  Silence filled my ear for a good minute. “Get out,” he finally said.

  “What?”

  “You heard me—get out. Get away from the dragons.”

  “Don’t you think that would be rude? They’ve given me a lot, Gareth. The wyvern’s mother herself tended me while I was in the fugue—”

  “Get out, you stupid woman! Do I make myself clear? Get out before they kill you!”

  “You are watching way too much TV, Gareth, you really are.” I kept my voice low, but allowed anger to sound in it. “If these people wanted to kill me, all they would have had to do was to dump me in the Thames while I was asleep.”

  “Listen carefully to me, Sullivan,” he said, breathing heavily. “You may think they’re your friends, but they aren’t. You have to get away from them, today, right now.”

  “That’s not going to be quite so easy,” I said, hesitating. I really didn’t want to talk to Gareth about Gabriel and May. Somehow, it seemed that it would taint the relationship if I were to try to explain them to him. “I told them I’d stay for a while. I’m having . . . well, they’re kind of dreams, and they’re—”

  “I don’t want to hear about your goddamned dreams!” he thundered, breathing like a bulldog for a few minutes before continuing. “I can’t leave just yet. Ruth and I are . . . we’re following up a potential client. But I’ll send someone to help you.”

  “Will you please stop doing the Darth Vader impression and listen to me?” I lost all remnants of patience with him. “Brom and I are fine. The dragons aren’t going to hurt us. We don’t need anyone to help us, because we’re fine, just fine!”

  “Be prepared to leave tonight,” Gareth said. I clenched my teeth against screaming in frustration. “Don’t tell anyone. Stay in your room.”

  “By the rood, Gareth! If I wasn’t already going insane, you’d be enough to push me right over the edge, do you know that?”

  “Wait a minute—did you say Brom was there?”

  “Yes! Yes, I did! Hallelujah and let fly the doves! You actually listened to something I said!”

  He cursed again, but under his breath this time. “Well, it’s of no matter. They can’t want him. You’ll just have to tell him to stay there until Ruth or someone can get him.”

  “You’re nuts,” I said flatly, so flabbergasted that he actually expected I would leave my own child, my brain couldn’t come up with anything more than that.

  “They won’t harm him,” he said testily. “Just make sure you’re ready to leave.”

  The very idea that Gareth was willing to abandon Brom, his own child, to people he considered dangerous was so obscene, I sat staring at the grass in utter disbelief. At that moment, I knew the marriage was over. I could not remain married to a man who cared absolutely nothing for his son.

  Gareth, obviously taking my silence for compliance, warned me again to have nothing to do with the dragons until I could be rescued.

  “What do you expect me to do even if I were to leave the dragons?” my curiosity forced me to ask. “I’m not an apprentice anymore, and I’ve had an interdict placed on me. I can’t practice arcane magic at all.”

  “You’ll get your job back,” he said grimly.

  “How?”

  “That’s your problem,” he said, echoing Dr. Kostich. With one last word of warning he hung up, leaving me to shake my head. It was all so much to take in—first the dragons, then the dreams, and now the scales falling from my eyes where Gareth was concerned. How had I lived with such a monster for all those years?

  “Holy Mary, mother of god,” one of the girls behind me said as I tucked my phone away in my purse. “Get a look at those two. Mmrowr! I call the back one.”

  “Oh! I was going to call him. I suppose I’ll have to take the tall one in front, then. What do you think—seven? Seven and a half?”

  “Are you kidding? He’s too intense. He probably has OCD or something. Five at the most. Now, the one behind him, he’s a definite eight point nine.”

  I glanced between them to see who they were talking about. Two men were walking parallel to the bench, some thirty feet away. I couldn’t see much of the far man, although glimpses indicated he was in his late thirties, with short dark hair and a slight goatee. An intricate Celtic tattoo wrapped around his biceps was made visible by a black sleeveless shirt. His companion, nearest me, was taller, and of a similar coloring. He also wore black, unremarkable except for the way the wind rippled the man’s shirt against his chest. He moved swiftly, his long legs making nothing of the expanse of the park, his body moving with an almost feline grace.

  Something about him struck me as familiar. I turned a little more to get a better look as they continued past. The nearest man, the one with the graceful walk, had shoulder-length dark chocolate brown hair that was pu
lled back from a pronounced widow’s peak into a short ponytail. He was clean-shaven, although a faint hint of darkness around his jaw hinted at stubble.

  “Maybe I should go for the tall one. I love me some manly stubble,” one of the girls said, as if she’d read my mind. “He’s just one hundred percent delicious. Hey! Why don’t we see where they’re going, and if they’d, you know, like us to go with them?”

  The second girl looked hesitant as she watched the ponytailed man. “I don’t know. Mine looks kind of intimidating, doesn’t he?”

  I agreed. He did look intimidating. He also looked sexy as hell. I wished I could indulge in a little illicit daydreaming about him, but I had enough on my plate without dwelling on the lamentable state of my personal life.

  My gaze slid to him again, and once more I was struck with a sense of the familiar. It was as if something inside of me recognized something inside of him—a foolish notion if ever I’d had one, and of late, I’d had nothing but foolish notions.

  To my surprise, the first man stumbled and came to a stop, turning full circle as he scanned the area. He hesitated when he faced us, and the first girl squealed and nudged her friend as she rose to her feet, blocking my view.

  “Look! They’ve seen us! Let’s go over to them. Come on, Dee!”

  Her friend was slower in getting up. “I don’t know that they’re looking at us, Sybil.”

  “Don’t be stupid,” the first girl said, grabbing her purse. “It’s as clear as day! Let’s go say hello.”

  The two women headed toward the men. I tried to watch them but my vision started to fog, as if I were suddenly enveloped in a cocoon of cotton wool. I clutched the back of the bench to keep from pitching forward, but it was no use. I fell.

  Pain burst to life in my head in waves of red that pounded and pulsed stronger and stronger until I thought it would explode from me.

  “Stop!” I yelled, and miraculously, it did.

  I opened my eyes and glared at the two men who faced each other over the altar of the cathedral, the echoes of their shouting disturbing the dust motes that danced in the thin sunlight streaming through the lovely stained-glass rose window. I turned to the man on my right. Slightly taller than me, of a thick, muscular stature, with golden brown hair and almost identically colored eyes, he reminded me of one of my father’s prized bulls. “Baltic has done nothing to harm me, nothing.”

  “He has sworn to destroy all silver dragons who do not submit to his obscene demands,” Constantine Norka said, glaring at Baltic. “Why would he bring you to me unless you were damaged?”

  I held up a hand to stop Baltic’s retort, which I knew would be loud and vicious. “He didn’t harm me because he is a man of honor. He swore to take me home, and he did, although”—I shifted my gaze to give him a reproachful look—“I meant my father’s keep, not to be delivered into the hands of dragons.”

  “You belong to my sept,” Constantine said, his hands fisted.

  “Your sept belongs to me!” Baltic snarled.

  “For the love of the saints, please don’t go through that again!” I said, rubbing my forehead. The remnants of a headache, caused by listening to the two wyverns circle each other snapping and snarling for the last hour, still lingered. “The fact is that he did as he said.”

  “Including spending the nights in your bed?” Constantine asked, his gaze tight on Baltic.

  I raised my eyebrows and considered whether I should respond with maidenly indignation, or a more worldly approach. I decided for indignation. “My maidenhead is intact, if that is what you are desirous of knowing. Baltic did not bed me.”

  “No? Then why do his men say he was in your cabin every night?”

  I thought of the weeklong journey from England to the southern coast of France. It was true Baltic had visited me each night—I had been unable to refuse him, and had, in fact, learned much about what pleased him, and what drove him to the point of losing control.

  “I was afraid of the journey,” I said truthfully. The sea was a foreign thing, and I did not trust or like it.

  The corners of Baltic’s mouth curved upward.

  “It’s true that when we were on the ship he came into my cabin at night, but it was to comfort me.”

  That also was true, although more of a half-truth. I would have to seek a confessor in my new home.

  Constantine made a noise of disbelief, but I raised my chin and said calmly, “I say again that my maidenhead is intact. If you insist on an examination, I will submit to one.”

  “No,” he said, never taking his eyes off Baltic, who was still smiling faintly, an amused look in his obsidian eyes, as glossy and shiny as polished stone. “I will accept what you say.”

  “Thank the heavens. And now, I would greatly appreciate it if someone would tell me where my family is. My dragon family. So long as I have been ripped from the only parents I have known, I would like to meet the ones who gave me up.”

  Constantine’s hands flexed, but at last he stepped away from the altar, finally turning his gaze to me. In the distance, the song of the monks could be heard as they prayed in a smaller chapel. “It grieves me to tell you this, but your parents are dead, Ysolde.”

  “No,” I said, stopping when he tried to take my arm and lead me out of the cathedral. “They can’t be. I came all this way to find them.”

  “I’m sorry. Your father died in battle with your savior.” His words and expression were bitter as he nodded toward Baltic. “Your mother did not long survive him. They were a very devoted pair. I did not know you survived—your mother told us you had drowned. I don’t know why she placed you with mortals rather than her own kin, but we rejoice that you have been returned to us.”

  A deep sense of sadness leached into my heart, filling me with a black despair. I lifted my gaze to meet that of Baltic. He was waiting for me, his eyes guarded, his face devoid of emotion. “You killed my father?”

  “We are at war,” he said. “Lives are lost during wars, Ysolde.”

  I nodded, tears filling my eyes, my heart so heavy I couldn’t speak.

  “Come. I will take you to your mother’s family. They will welcome you,” Constantine said, one hand on my back as he escorted me down the aisle of the cathedral, his guard falling in behind him.

  I paused at the great double doors and looked back. Kostya and Pavel had joined Baltic at the altar. All three watched me. I wanted to thank Baltic for honoring his word to me, even when it meant he had to meet with his most hated enemy. I wanted to tell him how much pleasure he had given me in our nights together. I wanted to tell him that I was no longer angry that he took me away from the only family I’d known.

  I said nothing. I simply looked at him, then turned and accompanied Constantine out of the cathedral and into my new life.

  “You will be cherished now, Ysolde,” Constantine reassured me. “We have much to teach you, but you will learn that by-and-by.”

  Chapter Six

  By-and-by, I thought, my heart filled with so much sadness I knew it must shatter into a hundred little pieces. By-and-by.

  By-and-by? No, that wasn’t right.

  “I said hi. Hello? Howdy? Hidy ho? Hi hi hi?”

  I blinked, the fog evaporating into nothing, the back of the bench once more solid under my hand. In front of me sat a large shaggy black dog, panting in the sunlight, long streamers of drool dribbling from his slobbery lips. I looked around for the dog’s owner, but no one was there.

  “There you are. Ysolde, right?”

  My eyebrows raised, I looked down at the dog. The voice was coming from him.

  He tipped his head to the side and I swear he winked at me. “Wow, you look like hell. How ya doing after that header you took into Ash’s marble coffee table?”

  “Er . . .” My jaw sagged slightly. “Do I know you?”

  “Yeah. We met at Aisling and Drake’s house during the big birthing hullabaloo. I’m Jim. Effrijim, really, but that’s way too girly for a butch guy like me. You loo
k kind of funny. You didn’t see me when May ordered me into human form, did you? Because that would explain why you look like you’re seeing a three- headed alien dance A Chorus Line.”

  “Human form,” I repeated stupidly. “No, I was . . .”

  I was dreaming. In the middle of the day? Panic gripped my stomach with clammy fingers. Now the dreams were coming to me while I was wide awake? “Dear god, the shock treatments are going to be just around the corner if my brain keeps going at this rate!”

  “Ya think?”

  I stared at the dog; my thoughts panicked.

  “Ouch. You look like you’re gonna pass out or hurl. If you’re going to do the latter, can you aim away from me? This magnificent coat takes forever to dry after a bath.”

  “I’m all right,” I said, managing to get a grip on my errant emotions. “You’re a dog, but you can use human form?”

  “I’m a demon. Sixth class, so it’s OK. I’m not going to rip your entrails out and drape them over a tree or anything like that. Besides, Aisling would lop off my package if I did that. She’s always threatening to lop off my package. I think she’s got a secret genitalia fetish, if you want to know the truth, but she’s a nice enough demon lord otherwise, so I don’t make a big deal about it. You sure you’re OK? Hey, put your head between your knees or something—you’re as white as Cecile’s underbelly fur.”

  I did as the dog—demon—suggested, wondering where I knew him from. Before I could even complete that mental sentence, I corrected myself. Demons, I remembered hearing one of my mage instructors say, were always referred to by means of gender- neutral pronouns. Why, I had no idea; it just was. “You said I know you?” I asked after a couple of minutes of trying to get a little blood back into my brain.

  “Now you’re all red,” it said, giving its shoulder a lick. “You don’t remember me?”

  “I don’t remember anything,” I said with more honesty than I liked.

  “Yeah?” Its eyes narrowed on me. “That looks like an interdiction on you. Kostich kick you out of mage’s camp?”