“The ones that transport you across the mortal plane.”
“A car?” Pal glanced toward Drake, who was still on the phone. “Yes. Did you wish for me to drive you—”
“Let us go find Charity,” he said, and strode out the door. He felt better just taking action, although that soon faded when the act of getting the car and driving after the thief taker ended up requiring not just Pal, but the other wyverns, and two of the mates.
“We should have taken two cars,” Drake said, squishing himself into the backseat of the machine alongside the other two wyverns.
“I need no help, so long as your guard here manipulates the machine,” the First Dragon said crisply. The idea that the others didn’t realize he could rescue Charity on his own was annoying.
“After being responsible for the thief-taker capturing the siren? Aisling would kill me if I didn’t help find her,” Drake murmured, trying to make some space. “Gabriel, can you move over?”
Pal was at the steering mechanism of the machine, while the First Dragon sat beside him, the better, he thought to himself, to point out any tracks they saw that indicated the path the thief taker had followed.
“I’m pressed up closer to Baltic than I care to be as is,” the silver wyvern answered.
“Then perhaps you should stay behind,” Drake suggested.
“Oh, no, you’re not going to leave me in the same doghouse you’re in because we thought it best to have the siren removed. May made it quite clear that we need to resolve the situation. Baltic, this is not a time for manspreading! Do you mind not hogging all the seat?”
“My genitals require room. And I am crushed against the car door,” Baltic answered, then grunted when Ysolde, who had crawled across the other two wyverns, sat down on his legs. “That is my spleen, mate.”
“Eh. You don’t need it. Sorry, May, let me just rearrange my legs.”
“If there’s no room, I can stay back with Aisling—” May started to say, but Gabriel reached across Drake, who was still trying to fit into the seat alongside the other two wyverns, and pulled her into the machine.
“And have you left out when Ysolde is here? No. Besides, you’re the smallest of anyone.”
“Perhaps if one of you would sit up with the First Dragon—” Baltic suggested.
The First Dragon settled back into the leather seat, and propped his elbows on the armrests. “I am quite comfortable.”
“Got the door shut,” Drake called from the back. “Go, Pal.”
“What the hell do you have in your pocket, Drake?” Gabriel complained. “It’s digging into my hip.”
“Ow!” May turned to look over her shoulder at Ysolde.
“Sorry. I was trying to rearrange myself so I don’t crush Baltic’s noogies.”
“Too late,” came the reply from behind Ysolde.
“You have two sons,” Drake said in a pained tone. “You don’t need any more children.”
“Says the man who has three,” Baltic snapped.
“Two of them are twins! That’s only two births—”
May giggled. Ysolde started lecturing the wyverns to not fight until they reached their destination, which only made the wyverns argue more.
The First Dragon enjoyed the ride at the front of the machine, but he was worried, and he didn’t quite know how to process the emotion. He wanted Charity free from the thief taker, but what then? He couldn’t very well confine her, for that put him in the role of gaoler, and he couldn’t imagine embracing that situation. Nor would Charity appreciate it. No, he had to find a solution that would allow her to live her life as she desired.
He wondered if she missed him. He found himself missing her. He liked the way her eyes lit with humor. He liked the smell and feel of her. And most of all, he liked the way her presence filled the spaces around her.
He liked that she used the name his mother gave him. No one had done that since Maerwyn. No one had cared about his well-being since then, either. No one had sought to enjoy time spent with him once he was alone.
Not until he’d met Charity.
The dragonkin were right. It was time he took another mate.
He just hoped Charity saw it in the same light, and mused on that idea during the ride into town, where the portal stop was located.
“I will talk to the portal operator,” Drake said as soon as the car came to a halt.
“You don’t have to. I will,” Baltic said immediately thereafter.
“I volunteer,” Gabriel said, his voice muffled.
“I’ll go,” both May and Ysolde said at the same time, and to the First Dragon’s surprise, the car more or less exploded with dragonkin. The doors popped open and dragons spilled out all over the pavement, a complicated tangle of arms and legs that was made more awkward by the fact that each dragon attempted to rise at the same time.
The First Dragon stepped over them and entered the portal shop, glancing around with interest at the furnishings. There were a number of cardboard boxes and wooden crates stacked along the walls. The counter was empty, but by the time the wyverns and their mates had pushed into the shop after the First Dragon, a slight, long-haired youth with a wispy goatee emerged from the back room, a half-eaten sandwich in one hand, and a rolled-up newspaper in the other.
“I called earlier,” Drake said, pushing forward at the same time he straightened his shirt, and brushed back a lock of hair that had fallen forward. “About the thief taker Savian Bartholomew.”
“Oh, right,” the man said, nodding. “You’re the dragon who promised big money to stop him. He was here about half an hour ago.”
“You did not let him use the portal?” Drake asked, his brow darkening.
The man froze, then suddenly slammed the newspaper down on the counter. “Damned imps. They’ve gone invisible, which makes it a real bugger to catch them. What was that you said?”
Drake repeated his question with considerably more force.
“Naw, I told him what you said to say—that the portal was out of order, and that he’d have to use another one. It’s not far from the truth—this portal is on its last legs, so to speak, and the shop is closing in the next couple of days. I’m going to Malta. No portals there. I’ll make a fortune.” He slammed the newspaper down again, this time triggering a slight “Eeek-eek” noise, followed by the scampering sound of a small invisible being.
“Excellent,” Drake said, visibly relaxing and turning to the First Dragon. “It will take Bartholomew some two hours to get to Budapest. We can make some calls and have him picked up before he arrives.”
“He’s not going to Budapest,” the portal man said around a mouthful of sandwich. He sucked mustard off his fingers before realizing everyone was staring at him. “New portal shop opened up in Klas. Your friend’s gone there.”
Drake swore profanely. The First Dragon frowned at the portal man. “Where is this place?”
“About fifty kilometers to the west.” The man squinted at a stack of books that perched on the edge of the counter, and slowly lifted his newspaper roll.
“Then we will go there,” the First Dragon said, and quickly snatched out of apparently nothing the small imp that had been scampering unseen across the counter. He gave it a shake, and set it down on the floor. The eeking that followed had a profoundly grateful tone.
“I don’t think we should,” Gabriel said, looking thoughtful. “We wouldn’t get there in time to stop him.”
The others agreed. “He’s going to Paris. Is there any reason we can’t take this portal and beat him there?” Ysolde asked.
The wyverns, to a man, groaned.
“Other than the fact that dragons don’t portal well,” Ysolde amended.
“What is difficult about a portal?” the First Dragon asked, giving a little frown at his children. Did they not see how important this was? Did they not understand that he had to save Charity? That he was obligated by a sense of duty? He had sworn to keep her under his protection, and he could not abandon that
oath now.
“Dragonkin ... tend to get a bit ... unsettled by portals,” Drake said slowly.
Gabriel rubbed his face and looked unhappy. “That’s an understatement if I ever heard one.”
“It’s unpleasant as hell,” Baltic agreed.
“Then you do not need to come with me,” the First Dragon said with a bit of acid in his voice. Normally, he did not choose to let the dragonkin sense his unhappiness with them, but this was a desperate situation. He turned to the man who was still noisily chewing his food. “I will take the portal to Paris.”
“OK. That’ll be five hundred euros.”
The First Dragon frowned. He had not dealt in a situation involving currency in many centuries.
Drake moved forward, the martyred look returning to his face while he pulled a wallet from his pocket. “We’ll all take the portal to Paris.”
“Christos,” Baltic muttered, and added a few choice phrases, but stopped when Ysolde told him he could stay behind while the rest of them went off to save Charity.
“Just be aware that Cynthia—that’s what I call the portal—Cynthia has been acting up a bit lately,” the portal man said, leading the way to the portaling room after the payment had been made. “That’s one reason why I’m closing her down. One or two people have reported the loss of minor body parts, but nothing important. Just keep your hands close to your torso.”
The three wyverns stared at the portal with identical expressions of loathing.
“This should be fun!” May told Ysolde. “I haven’t taken a portal in forever.”
“Me either. Baltic always makes us fly places. I always did think it was kind of magical. One moment you’re in one place, and poof! The next you’re in another,” she answered, taking off her shoes and tucking them under her arms.
“You’ll forgive us if the next time you have a party, we send our regrets,” Gabriel told Drake when the portal man flipped the switch that turned the power on to the large, swirling mass in the center of a stack of mattresses and pads. It hummed with energy.
Drake grimaced. “After what’s happened at this one, I’m likely to miss the next, as well.”
The First Dragon gave them all a stern look, then stepped into the twisting oval of light and matter and space and time.
Chapter Seven
“Aiieeeeeeeeeee!” The word, more of a scream, really, came to an abrupt halt when I hit something soft, but solid. I shook my head, and pushed up, finding myself lying facedown on the sort of mats that gymnasts use, and looked around the room. I had an odd tickle in my nose like I was going to sneeze, but other than that, nothing seemed to be out of place. “So that’s a portal. Wow.”
A small brunette woman with a pink bow sitting on top of an elaborate 1960s hairstyle stepped forward, and said in a voice heavy with a French accent, “You must move, yes? There is another coming, and he will land upon you.”
“Ack!” I leaped to my feet and spun around looking for the nearest exit. “That blasted thief taker Savian! I’ll be damned if I let him hand me over to—” I stopped, hearing voices that sounded familiar in another room. I pointed at the wall. “What’s in there?”
“The receiving chambre? It is where people go when they need to recover, you know?” She gave a Gallic shrug. “Not everyone, they have the power to portal par excellence.”
The portal behind me started swirling even faster, warning me that Savian was coming. I debated running out of the building, but a familiar voice did amazing things to my insides, so instead I dashed for the door to the next room, slamming and locking the door behind me. When I turned to face the occupants, the sight that met my eyes was not at all what I was expecting.
The room contained two long olive green couches, and three bright orange overstuffed chairs. On the floor was a diamond-patterned rug. It also contained Drake Vireo, lying facedown, his hair standing on end, one sleeve of his shirt completely gone. At one of the couches, May was trying to get a completely naked Gabriel to sip from a cup of water. Like Drake, his hair stood on end, and he appeared to have two black eyes.
Ysolde was attempting to drag Baltic onto one of the chairs, but she’d managed to get only his torso onto it. He had one shoe on, and was wearing his tie around his head like a headband. He was also speaking in a way that sounded more garbled than an actual language. “I’m telling you that you need to sit up, and then I can find your other shoe. Stop trying to help, Baltic. Your legs aren’t working right yet.”
But it was the man propped up next to the wall that had me staring in surprise. Avval was sitting with his legs splayed out in front of him like a rag doll, his hair slicked back as if he’d wet it down, his hands twitching occasionally.
I hurried over to him, noting that Ysolde had given up on Baltic and was now checking on Drake.
“You came after me? That’s so sweet of you. Kind of annoying, too, but really, I think the sweetness wins out. Are you OK?” I asked Avval, squatting next to him. “Did someone attack you? How did you know I was going to be here? Was it that annoying Savian? Are you, by any chance, rescuing me from him? Because if you are, I might cry.”
His eyes were open, but they were unfocused. They were also ebony, with no difference between the pupil and the iris.
“Hrn,” he said. “Fleng mit rnn.”
“Dragons don’t do portals well,” May said, passing me with two paper cups of water in her hands. She gave me one. “They discombobulate them. Something to do with their molecular structure. Gabriel, do not get up, you haven’t recovered yet. You’ll just fa—there, see, I told you not to get up. Sorry, Drake. I hope he didn’t hurt you.”
She set down the water and helped Ysolde drag the naked Gabriel off Drake and back onto the couch.
I touched Avval’s cheek. “Would you like a sip of water?”
“Flern,” he told me, then made an effort to pull himself together, his arms and legs doing a brief swimming motion. “Charty.”
“That’s right, I’m Charity,” I said soothingly, holding the cup to his lips. “Take a sip. Just one, I don’t want you choking on it.”
He put a hand up and managed to grasp mine as I let him have a few sips. “Found you.”
“Yes, you did, that was very clever of you. Almost as clever as putting your clothes on backward.”
He looked down, his eyes slowly focusing. His pants and shirt were indeed on backward. “That is... odd.”
“It’s the portal,” Ysolde said, having rolled Drake over onto his back. He had blood on his lips, and was apparently missing a tooth. “Gabriel came out starkers, and Baltic is all out of sorts. Yes, yes, my love, I’ll have someone find some dragon’s blood. Just give me a moment to check Drake and talk to Charity, since it is her we came to find.”
“Why?” I couldn’t help but ask. “Why are you all here?”
“We couldn’t let the First Dragon come all by himself. He doesn’t know how to get around Paris, and besides, we all know what portals do to dragons,” May said.
“Thank you. I think,” I said, unsure of whether I was being rescued or recaptured.
“Just be thankful we didn’t let Jim come with us,” Ysolde said with a grimace.
“Why do you want to give them blood?” I asked, helping Avval when he tried to get to his feet. He was a bit wobbly, so I held on to his belt until he managed to stand up straight. “They don’t look hurt.”
“What? Oh, dragon’s blood? It’s a wine-based beverage, not actual blood,” Ysolde said, tsking and taking the tie off Baltic’s head. “Here, let me tidy you up and then you’ll feel better.”
“I’m going to see if the portal lady has any clothes handy, since Gabriel’s appear to be lost to the portal—” May stopped, staring at Avval’s back. “That’s—the First Dragon has a dragon tattoo.”
“Isn’t it pretty?” His shirt was on backward, but not buttoned, so I pulled it off and helped him put his arms into it the proper way round. “The tail of it goes down his left thigh. ...” I paus
ed as both May and Ysolde stared at me in openmouthed amazement.
I blushed what felt like five different shades of red.
Baltic pushed himself up off the chair, weaved heavily, then fell back onto it. “Knew it. He works fast when he wants to.”
Avval, who was trying to reach behind himself to get at his fly, straightened up and gave Baltic a look that fathers had given sons for eons. “You forget yourself, Baltic. Apologize to Charity.”
To my complete surprise, Baltic’s expression turned contrite for about three seconds. “My apologies. I spoke without thinking. I blame the portal.”
Avval snorted, but allowed me to move around behind him to unbuckle his belt.
“Um ...” I glanced at the other two ladies, then leaned in and whispered, “Are you wearing underwear? Because if you aren’t, this is going to be a bit dicey.”
He said nothing, just dropped his pants as soon as I unzipped them, and put them on the right way. I spent a few moments feeling smug because my dragon had all his garments, including undies, until I realized what my mind was doing.
The First Dragon was not mine. He was a demigod, one who could not get emotionally involved with a mortal being. Fun sexy times notwithstanding, he was nothing to me, and it had to remain that way no matter what my hopeful heart had been planning while I busy being kidnapped and stuffed through a portal against my will.
“What the everlasting hell is going on?” Another door that I hadn’t noticed was thrown open, and the thief taker stood in the doorway, scowling first at me, then with growing astonishment at the dragons scattered around the room. “Holy hellballs. What did you do to them, siren?”
I opened my mouth to tell him, but I had no time to answer before he rushed forward, pulling a roll of duct tape from his pocket. He slapped a piece of tape over my mouth, and had me by one arm, pulling me toward the open door by the time I realized what had happened.
There was a roar of anger from behind me, and suddenly, Savian was pressed against the wall, held a good two feet off the ground by Avval.
A furious Avval. “What have you done, mortal?”
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