“That must have been a difficult life for a young girl,” he said, admiring her strength in triumphing over such trials. He contemplated telling her that, but decided that now was not the moment. She was clearly not a person who was free with her trust, and he wanted to hear more of her experiences.
“It wasn’t easy, that’s for sure.” She made a face and wiggled in the seat. “This chair is awful. My left butt cheek has gone numb.”
He rose. “You may sit here.”
“No, I wouldn’t wish this chair on my worst enemy.” She waved him back and then, after a moment’s hesitation, sat on the bed, not close enough that she was touching him, but he felt the pull of her presence nonetheless.
What was happening? Was he so long out of the company of females that he was drawn to the first one he’d seen? But no, that could not be. He’d met some of the female dragons who were present for the party, and although he’d been mildly interested by them, it was the same interest he felt for all his children.
This woman was not his kin, and yet she held his interest like no one had since Maerwyn.
“I stayed with her—the last foster mom—until I was eighteen. Then I was officially kicked out of the system and had to go to work. I floated around for ten years doing odd jobs, and hiding from anyone who knew what I was.”
He frowned. What had happened to the world that women such as her were considered dangerous? Could they not see the purity of her soul shining like a halo around her?
“Then I ran into Andrew—he’s the leader of the band—and he recognized right away what I was, and they asked me to join. At first, it was just so they could throw some harmless glamours on the crowd, like making them want to dance, or feel happy, or even think the band was top-notch. But then he had the brilliant idea of me holding them in a thrall while they stole their valuables.”
“Ah,” he said. “And how did you react to that?”
She smacked him on his arm. “How do you think I reacted? I am not a thief! I told them I wasn’t going to help them steal anything.”
“They blackmailed you?” he asked.
“Yes.” She slumped back, making him want to take her in his arms and comfort her.
And perhaps do a few other things.
“Andrew said if I didn’t help them, he’d turn me in to the nearest Otherworld policeman, and claim I glamoured them into taking me into the band. The bastard.”
“That is one word for it. I have others,” he said.
She flashed a grin at him for a few seconds. He felt as if he were standing in the noonday sun. “I do, too, actually, but that’s the most polite. That was two years ago, so now here I am, almost thirty, and I’m on the run with a gang of outlaws.” She sighed, and asked, “How old are you?”
He was surprised by the question. “Why?”
A little blush pinkened her cheeks. “Just curious.”
“I am old. I am the First Dragon.”
“Yeah, we’ve been over that. But you were born, right? When was that?”
He thought. “I don’t believe anyone kept track of the years then.”
“What does that mean? Like Roman times?”
“No, I can remember the Romans spreading across many kingdoms.”
“OK, we’ll go a bit back. Ancient Egypt. The guys with the pyramids and those pharaohs who married their sisters, and all that.”
“Before that. One of my brothers is a lord of their underworld.”
“Wow, really? That’s kind of mind-blowing. So much so that I think we’re going to move on.” Her brow wrinkled in thought. “What came before that? Um. OK, Iron Age.”
He shook his head.
Her eyes widened. “Bronze Age? Stone?”
“The Stone Age people had excellent storytelling skills.”
“Holy time lord. Do you remember people evolving from apes?”
“No. That is before my time.” He smiled at her, marveling a little at how much he enjoyed talking to her. Perhaps finding another mate wasn’t such a bad idea. But what would the siren think of such a thing?
“I’m trying, and I have to admit failing, to wrap my brain around just how old you are.”
“Why does it matter?”
“I guess it really doesn’t,” she said after a moment’s silence. “It’s just ... well ... it’s kind of nice to know you have something in common with someone you like being with.”
He watched her cheeks flame, and wondered at that. “Why are you embarrassed?”
“Me? Who says I am?”
“You are blushing.”
Her chin lifted in an obstinate gesture that secretly delighted him. “I just basically told you that I like you. That’s kind of embarrassing considering we met a little more than an hour ago.”
“Why?” he asked again, genuinely puzzled.
“Are you yanking my chain?” she asked, a flash of anger giving her voice a sharp edge.
“I don’t believe so,” he said carefully. “Assuming that is a colloquialism.”
She gave a martyred sigh. “It is. Surely, even someone as old and out of it as you are can understand how ... awkward ... it is to admit you like someone when you just met them.”
“Out if it,” he murmured, turning the phrase over in his mind. Was he out of it? He didn’t feel particularly unaware of modern life, but given what the siren had told him, perhaps he was. What he needed was someone to guide him through the intricacies of this current world. “I don’t see why it is awkward. Would it help you if I said that I enjoy your presence?”
“I don’t know if that helps or not,” she said, her lips twitching as if she was fighting a smile. “But I appreciate that.”
“Good.” He sat, enjoying the silence and her nearness. He’d forgotten just how comforting it was to have a woman next to him.
“Well, this has been a delightful interlude, but I think it’s about ended. Are you going to get me out of here, or not?” she asked, giving him a look that he felt down to his soul.
He made the decision at that moment.
“Yes,” he said, and, without another word, left the room. The red-haired guard stationed outside immediately locked the door after him.
“Hey!” he heard the siren yell after him. “Hey ... goddamn it, what is your name? ... come back here and let me out. Do you hear me? Let me out!”
Her voice followed him up the stairs to the main room, where the dragons were discussing the situation.
The First Dragon never expected to find himself so interested in the dealings of his children. To be sure, it was fascinating to see how the race had evolved since he had first claimed a mate and fathered the firstborn, but this—this was absorbing on a whole new level.
“We’re going to have to call the Watch,” Drake, the wyvern of the green dragons, said, striding past where the First Dragon claimed a chair. “We can’t let her go, obviously, since god knows what she’ll do to us in revenge.”
“She didn’t seem to me like a revenge sort of person,” Aisling said, on her way out to answer a call from the nursery. “Don’t do anything until I get back. Oh, hi, Ysolde. Yes, they’re all in there. Baby duty calls.”
“I just did that, myself. Anduin was out of bed and running around naked on the hunt for your twins. I had to ask your housekeeper to keep her eye on him. The little devil is the best escape artist. ...” Ysolde hurried in, giving the First Dragon a side-eye before seating herself next to her mate, Baltic. The First Dragon considered Baltic, his only living first-generation child. In many ways, Baltic took after him, preferring to be on the fringes whenever dragons gathered in a group, holding himself aloof, and watching rather than acting. But he also bore his mother’s passion and sense of rightness, and it was both of those that had so touched the First Dragon’s heart. Even now, Baltic’s posture was studiously casual, but his eyes gave away the warmth of his love when he gazed upon his mate.
“That means getting Dr. Kostich involved,” Gabriel said, glancing toward his mate, May. T
he First Dragon liked her—Gabriel called her his little bird, a name that fit her—but he knew little about the silver dragons. Born of a split with the black sept, they were the youngest of all his children ... with the exception of the reborn red dragons. Idly, he wondered how they were doing, and made a note to drop in and see for himself, once the period of the wager was over. “Kostich is going to be the only one who would have the power to take Vicky in. Unless we gag her somehow.”
“Ugh,” Ysolde said, frowning. “Surely that’s not necessary.”
“Vicky?” the First Dragon heard himself say, somewhat to his surprise. He hadn’t intended on speaking.
“That’s the siren,” May explained.
“No, it is not,” he corrected her.
May looked confused, and glanced at her mate for help.
“Do you know something, sir?” Gabriel asked.
The First Dragon decided he liked the silver wyvern. He was respectful, and clearly cherished his mate above all else. A romantic at heart, the First Dragon liked to see dragons appreciate their mates. “I know that her name is not Vicky.”
The dragons present eyed one another before Drake asked, “If you have information about the siren, we would ask that you tell us.”
“I do not know her name other than to say it is not Vicky. That name does not resonate with her. She must bear another.”
“I see. Well ...” Drake cast a glance at the others in the room. “You understand that the situation is a difficult one. The thieves were mortal, and although they clearly knew about members of the Otherworld, they are not part of it. The woman, whatever her name, is a different matter.”
“Perhaps the First Dragon does not know about the interdict the Committee of the L’au-dela has placed upon sirens,” Gabriel said.
“He knows,” Baltic said. “As is he fond of pointing out, he’s a god. There is little he does not know.”
The other wyverns looked mildly uncomfortable. The First Dragon eyed his son, telling himself that he shouldn’t encourage such disrespect, but it was ever thus with Baltic.
A memory suddenly returned to him of centuries past, when Baltic had taken his first steps, his tiny pudgy hands holding tight to the First Dragon’s fingers, lurching forward with infinite glee at his newly discovered mobility. He remembered the joy in Maerwyn’s face, how she applauded and praised the babe, and the swell of pride in his chest at the sight of them together.
A familiar ache of things lost returned him to the present. Absently, he rubbed a spot on his chest, and recalled himself to the conversation. He turned to Gabriel. “On the contrary, about this I am in ignorance. What is the L’au-dela?”
“The governing body of the Otherworld,” Gabriel answered. “We dragons, through the weyr, have a treaty with the L’au-dela, so while we are not bound by their rules, in general, we live by them.”
“It makes our lives easier,” Drake agreed, moving over to a sofa when his mate returned to the room with murmured apologies. “On the whole. There have been some conflicts between them and Baltic.”
“Words that I’m sure surprise no one in this room,” the First Dragon said softly, with a little twist of his lips.
Baltic looked outraged, but Ysolde and Aisling both laughed.
“You talking about Kostich and the Committee?” Aisling asked. “He’s bad news, even though he can be decent at times. Ysolde is our ambassador with the L’au-dela, Mr. First Dragon, and he gives her endless grief, but she’s kind of used to that.”
“I will admit that there are days when I’d dearly love to turn Dr. Kostich into a banana,” Ysolde said, studiously buffing a fingernail against the material of her dress. “But for the most part, he’s pretty by the book. If there is a law, he abides by it.”
“And one of those laws is that sirens are absolutely forbidden to sing,” Gabriel said, nodding. “Their magic is too powerful, with only a few beings who can resist them. That’s why Dr. Kostich laid the interdict on them. There was one who ran around Europe a few decades ago, creating a disturbance in both the mortal and immortal worlds, but he had her confined.”
The First Dragon frowned. He did not like the idea of someone confining the siren he had met. There was too much life in her, too much humor in her eyes, to be shut away from contact with others. Hadn’t she suffered enough?
“They’re pretty rare, though, aren’t they?” May asked her mate. “I’ve never heard of a living siren, and Cyrene keeps me up-to-date with all the latest in elemental-being news.”
“Cyrene?” the First Dragon asked, feeling momentarily out of his depth. It was unpleasant, almost as unpleasant as the feeling in his torso, the strange sensation of needing something. Not to mention his face itched. He rubbed a hand over his chin, and was startled to find whiskers.
“My twin,” May explained. “She’s a naiad.”
“There’s really no other option but to call Dr. Kostich,” Drake said, reluctantly pulling a mobile phone from his pocket.
“Oh, sweetie, that seems so harsh,” Aisling protested. “I liked Vicky ... er ... whatever her name is. Yes, I know her bandmates were trying to break into your lair, but that thing is practically nuclear-attack-proof, and we both know they wouldn’t have gotten in there. It’s not like Vicky ... whoever ... tried to break in, herself.”
“She was the distraction to keep us busy while they attempted to do so,” Drake answered, his eyes flashing a warning.
Aisling evidently wasn’t intimidated. The First Dragon was secretly amused by this.
“Yes, but maybe she had a reason for doing it. Like how May was forced to steal stuff for Magoth,” Aisling answered, gesturing toward May. “You know me—I’m a very good judge of character, and Vicky Whoever struck me as a very nice woman. There’s got to be some reason she did what she did.”
The look of momentary surprise that flickered across all the faces of the dragons present at Aisling’s claim of character assessment did not escape the First Dragon, but no one disputed her. He agreed with her, however. The siren did not strike him as an immoral woman. The issue of her being blackmailed by her bandmates aside, she had come to save him from her friends.
“Maybe if we talked to her more,” May said slowly. “We can find out if she’s crafty.”
The First Dragon lifted an eyebrow a fraction of an inch, just enough to tell May he knew what she was up to.
“Yeees,” Ysolde drawled, giving him a considering look. “She looks like the type of person who might like nature, doesn’t she?”
“Does she?” Aisling asked. “She didn’t particularly strike me—oh! You mean, she’s like ... oh!” Aisling thought for a few seconds. “She’s in a band, so she clearly likes parties. Wow. We did pretty good for just one day on the job, didn’t we?”
“What did you do?” Drake demanded to know.
“It can’t be this easy, can it?” May asked.
“I don’t suppose it can. There has to be a drawback,” Ysolde said, looking slightly disappointed.
The First Dragon felt an urge deep within that he hadn’t felt in a long time—laughter was tickling him. How long had it been since he had laughed?
“What are you talking about?” Gabriel asked his mate.
“They’re talking about a woman for him,” Baltic said, nodding toward the First Dragon. “It’s their wager. They think they’ve found her.”
The urge to laugh grew within him. Trust Baltic to see the humor in the situation.
“The siren?” Drake looked flabbergasted.
“Why not? If she and the First Dragon hit it off, there’s no reason—” Aisling stopped speaking when the door opened and one of Drake’s two redheaded guards entered.
“The prisoner is making a fuss,” he said in a low tone.
“What sort of a fuss?” she asked. “Is she hurt?”
“No, she says she needs to use—” He gestured. “Facilities.”
“She has to go potty? What’s the big deal? Take her to a bathroom.”
“Things?” Aisling said, then enlightenment evidently dawning. “Oh, she needs ... gotcha. Well, you can bring her upstairs to one of the guest baths. She can take a shower there, and I’ll give her whatever she needs.”
Aisling started for the door, but Drake’s “No! Not here!” stopped her in her tracks.
“Why not? I know you’re all angry at her, and I’m not saying I don’t feel a bit used, but it’s against the woman code to turn down a woman in need of ... things ... and I’m certainly not going to make her sit there and be crampy and oozing and probably craving chocolate and potato chips, just to make a point.”
The First Dragon filed away the question regarding chocolate and potato chips to ask the siren at a later date. He assumed she was having her woman’s time, but did not see why Drake was forbidding the woman some comfort. He frowned at the green wyvern, letting him know he did not approve.
Drake looked taken aback at this gesture, but recovered quickly when Aisling, having said her piece, continued to the door. “You cannot bring her upstairs, kincsem. She is a danger, not just to us, but to the children.”
“Oh, come on, now,” May said, looking skeptical. “I’ll admit that the whole gang is pretty unsavory, but I don’t see them hurting children.”
“You do not know the power of sirens,” Gabriel told her. “I agree with Drake. The woman should not be allowed anywhere near people she can influence.”
“We could gag her, I suppose,” Drake said slowly.
“Like hell you will,” Ysolde said, standing. The three mates were now standing together, facing the wyverns, their eyes bearing varying degrees of anger. The First Dragon enjoyed the scene immensely, and wondered if it would be appropriate to applaud the mates. “I agree with May and Aisling—Vicky, for lack of a better name, may be a victim in all this. Have you asked her? No, I thought not.”
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