Wyvern’s Angel

by Deborah Cooke

  “How can you bear it?” he asked before Sansor could speak.

  “Bear what?” The larger man folded his arms across his chest.

  “To watch the woman you love earn her living as a siren?” Bond shook his head and turned away from the other man’s obvious pain. “I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t stand aside and let her do as she desired, much less let her do it in my home...”

  He felt the weight of a hand land on his uninjured shoulder, then Sansor spun him around. He saw the fury in the other man’s eyes, then Sansor punched him in the face.

  Bond thought he heard his nose crack.

  He staggered backward, his hands cupping his nose as the blood streamed over them.

  “She is no siren!” Sansor said, his voice low with fury. His eyes were blazing and his hands were clenched into fists. He leaned closer, as if fighting against his own urge to kill Bond with his bare hands. Bond backed up, thinking a little distance might help in that endeavor. Then Sansor continued, his words stopping Bond cold. “She is the fifth daughter of King Ouros and a royal princess of Incendium!”

  Bond stared at the furious man before him. There was no question that Sansor was telling the truth—or what he thought was the truth.

  A royal princess?

  “She is?” he asked, knowing his doubt showed.

  So did Sansor’s conviction.

  That would make her Anguissa’s sister, Bond realized, and dread rose hot within him. Was that why she’d approached him at the club? Did Anguissa suspect what he’d done to the nav system of the Archangel?

  If so, Bond had to hope this man would kill him first.

  But then, why would a royal princess act like a siren?

  “But why—” he began to ask, fearing that the answer was as a favor to Anguissa.

  “How can you treat her like a whore?” Sansor demanded and pursued Bond with fury in his eyes.

  Bond retreated, only just remaining out of Sansor’s reach. “Why did she act like a whore?” he asked, genuinely puzzled.

  The eight women must have all been her sisters. They must have all been royal princesses. But that still made no sense.

  “Because of the Seed,” Sansor hissed and raised his fist again.

  “Sansor!” Diverta chided from the doorway. “How dare you assault the Carrier of the Seed?”

  The Seed? The Carrier of the Seed? What were they talking about?

  Sansor hesitated and looked at Diverta. “Haven’t you had what you needed from him?” he demanded. “All that noise! I thought you coupled twice.” His expression revealed his opinion of that. “When once would have been enough.”

  Diverta blushed and her gaze danced to him and then away again. Bond realized that their reference to the Seed meant exactly what he thought it meant.

  “It doesn’t matter,” she said, looking flustered. “There’s no cause for violence...”

  “There is, because if I don’t hit him now, I’ll miss my chance forever.”

  “Sansor!” Diverta said, as if shocked. Then her expression changed and her grip tightened on the book she carried.

  She was shimmering and Bond rubbed his eyes, knowing he couldn’t be imagining it. Her voice dropped low and her eyes glittered. She looked dangerous and he was glad she was staring at Sansor. She took a step toward the other man, menace emanating from her in waves. “You didn’t betray me,” she said with precision, her tone implying that she knew he had.

  What had Bond missed? He listened but heard nothing.

  He went to the window and looked, but the street was still empty below.

  “No, I didn’t betray you,” the apothecary’s son said with vehemence. “I protected you!”

  Bond heard a heavy knock from far below. A knock on metal. There had to be someone in the underground passageway, demanding admission to the cellar and storeroom. The sound came again, echoing through the house, making the walls vibrate.

  Maybe it was more than a knock. Maybe it was a battering ram.

  Then someone shouted, demanding admittance in the name of an authority. Bond didn’t have to look to know that the street wasn’t empty anymore.

  He turned to Diverta, who seemed to be furious, but she was glaring at Sansor.

  He realized a little late that she had his laze.

  Sansor went to the window, opened it, and leaned out. “It’s open,” he called. “He’s here.” He glanced over his shoulder then, his expression filled with satisfaction and hostility.

  Bond swore thoroughly. Even if he could make it past Diverta and down the stairs, there was no exit from the building. The authorities were out front and in the underground passageway. The Gloria Furore were probably out there, too, just in case he evaded the police.

  He pivoted to Diverta. “I do miss flying,” he said with heat. “Especially right now.”

  She smiled.

  She shimmered more brightly.

  And then she proved that she had a great deal more in common with Anguissa than Bond had realized.

  She tossed the book at him and he caught it, then she cast him the laze, too. Bond caught that just as she shifted shape, becoming a red and gold dragon so massive that she broke through the roof of the building.

  “Percipia! No!” Sansor cried but she breathed a spurt of flames in his direction, her eyes flashing with fury.

  “Don’t tempt me, Sansor,” she snarled as he retreated with obvious reluctance. He was unharmed, but wary of her.

  And rightly so, in Bond’s view. Betraying a dragon shifter was a bad choice.

  Percipia smiled at Bond and bent toward him. He wasn’t sure what to expect and hoped those two orgasms tipped the balance in his favor.

  They did.

  She snatched up Bond without hesitation and leaped into the air, her massive wings beating hard as she rose into the skies. A shot was fired past her, almost singeing one wing, and she breathed a torrent of fire down toward her assailants.

  “It’s the princess Percipia!” Sansor shouted at the authorities gathered in the street below. “Hold your fire, please!”

  It didn’t matter then because the princess Percipia soared into the sky, well beyond the range of their weapons, Bond tucked against her gleaming gold chest. Bond tipped his head back, welcoming the feel of the wind in his hair, the sense of power and freedom—even though it was her power and not his. He felt unconstrained for the first time in a long time, and the change was welcome.

  She was a dragon shifter princess.

  She was Anguissa’s sister.

  And it said something about Bond’s recent experience that he was glad to be back on familiar ground, so to speak.

  “Anywhere in particular?” she asked, her voice vibrating against him.

  “Away and then out of sight,” Bond said. He saw her look down at him, saw that her eyes were just as bright a blue in this form. He smiled that he could see the princess in the dragon, an echo of her posture in this regal creature, and certainly more than an echo of her beauty and strength.

  “Are you going to tell me your destination, or just how you’d like to get there?”

  “A vehicle,” Bond replied. “It was my plan to rent a vehicle, probably at the port, one capable of short airborne flights.”

  “You’ve got one,” she replied with humor. “Although I wouldn’t consider myself to be stolen.”

  “A less conspicuous solution would be better. I could steal one if you put me down where there are many of them.”

  She laughed then, a sound so joyous that he couldn’t help but smile. “You know my terms,” she said softly.

  “Tell me,” Bond said, wanting to be absolutely clear.

  “You are the Carrier of the Seed. I need the Seed.”

  “Why?”

  “To conceive a child, my child.”

  The truth was so elegant and simple, but still it shocked Bond. A child. He felt a new yearning then and a new opportunity.

  “What if I don’t want to father a child?”

 
; “It will be nothing to you, nothing but pleasure.” Her tone hardened. “For my kind, the Seed comes only once in our long lifetime. We consider it our obligation to breed when the opportunity arises.”

  But Bond would be gone. “There’s nothing I can contribute, beyond the Seed itself.”

  “Does it matter?” She spared him a glance even as her wings beat harder to gain altitude. The Algor Mountains rose before them, looking forbidding and cold even at this angle. “My child will be raised in the palace of Incendium and granted every opportunity, as befits one of the royal family.”

  Her assumption that he had only one thing to contribute was annoying, especially as Bond himself felt powerless and didn’t like it. “It would be our child,” he corrected with a heat that surprised even him. “If I surrendered the Seed.”

  “Won’t you?”

  Bond shook his head, not wanting to be hasty. “I’m not sure. I’ve never thought about creating a child, much less my responsibilities.”

  “I didn’t have to tell you the truth,” she noted and he realized it was true.

  “I’m glad that you did. Thank you.”

  She nodded, as if understanding that he needed time to think about the revelation. With a graceful beat of her wings, they soared even higher and he shivered at the chill in the air.

  “Sedula,” she said almost exhaling the word.

  Bond understood that was the name of a place. He tapped into his own personal device and learned that it was an industrial city, outside the capital of Incendium.

  “By the time we arrive, the commuters will be parking their vehicles at the station,” she continued. “After they leave for work in Incendium city, no one will notice one vehicle missing until tomorrow evening.”

  “Perfect,” Bond said because it was. Although he always worked alone—or had since taking flesh—there was something very satisfactory about having this dragon shifter princess as his partner.

  He shivered again then, and she curled her claw around him, nestling him against her mailed chest. It was surprisingly warm. He could hear the steady rhythm of her heart and see the silhouette of her wings, beating against the starry sky. Below stretched the last lights of the city, a sleeping residential neighborhood.

  He could discern the Earth Gate where the road left the city and narrowed slightly. His map noted that this road led to the mining town of Sicca, although it also provided access to Sedula. He held Sansor’s book tightly and realized that of all the places he had been in the mortal realm, this one—being carried toward the mountains and darkness by a red and gold dragon shifter princess—was the closest to being magical.

  And then, lulled by the rhythm of her flight, the exertion of running and the strain of healing his own wound, Bond fell asleep.

  There was only the echo of the wind in the night and the distant hum of the shuttles from the star station. Most people couldn’t hear their vibration, but Percipia could. She also heard a flutter of wings behind them, although she couldn’t catch a glimpse of whoever pursued them.

  Feathered wings.

  It wasn’t a dragon.

  Percipia flew to the east, toward the Earth Gate, which defended the road to Sedula and also to the distant mining town of Sicca. The last of Incendium city was below her, the road winding toward Sicca before her and the Algor Mountains rising sharply to the left. She was invigorated by the cooler air that blew out of the mountains but also felt her muscles pumping with the effort of flying higher. The stars seemed brighter and there were shadows in the distance.

  She heard the flutter again and looked back. She couldn’t see anything and wondered if her ears deceived her.

  No sooner had she carried on than the whisper of feathers sounded again. This time, Percipia thought a part of the sky looked wrong, like it blocked her view. She turned slightly to the south, so that the line of shuttles would be visible in that location. Sure enough, her view of them was blocked in that one zone.

  Percipia didn’t believe in spells or magic, but she knew there were reflectors that could hide something or someone in the right circumstances. Her pursuer didn’t want to be seen.

  She pretended not to have noticed, but wondered who it might be. More assailants chasing Bond? It couldn’t be the triped, and she doubted it was the man she’d injured so badly. She wasn’t even sure he’d survived. She glanced down at Bond, sleeping in her grasp, and thought he looked wary even in sleep.

  What kind of creature had feathered wings and could fly at the same speed as her? The sound was always the same distance away. It couldn’t be a bird. There weren’t any so large that she knew of. Was it an angel? One of Bond’s own kind keeping watch over him?

  Percipia didn’t know and she wouldn’t wake him to ask. With that shoulder injury, sleep would be best for him. She flew on, reconsidering her plan, and wished she knew the details of his plan.

  Incendium city was located in the middle of the largest land mass on the planet of Incendium and sited there by design. Unlike many other planets, Incendium had been thoroughly explored, mapped, and cultivated. There were no wild regions on Incendium: every region had been assessed and put to its best use. The high plateau, protected by the Algor Mountain range to the north, had been identified as the best location for a major city very early. The royal palace had been built at the exact center of the plateau, with major roads emanating from it in the four cardinal directions. The natural barriers around the plateau had been fortified and gates built on each of the roads to defend the city.

  To Percipia’s left and behind her slightly, the Ice Gate defended the road that headed to the tiny artistic enclave of Gela. This road was smaller than the other three and less well-traveled. This quadrant of the city was quieter, with parks and large residences. The many streams that fed the River Nebula flowed out of the mountains beyond this part of the city, although now they were constrained in canals made of stone and metal and not natural passageways. The River Nebula itself began at the palace, the streams joining to create a cold moat around the palace walls that then flowed to the south.

  To Percipia’s right was the Water Gate, defending the great road that wound toward the coastal city of Merra, where the aquaculture industry was concentrated. Wild fishes of Incendium were also harvested there, and all products of the sea were packed and processed. Between Incendium and Merra, the plateau descended into rolling countryside, where the days were long and sunny, and the soil was fertile. Market gardens prospered in this region, providing fresh produce to the city. There was an active market in Merra, where both fish and produce were bought and sold, and Merra was a noted culinary destination. There were many guilds headquartered there, where artisans and apprentices learned or perfected their skills.

  The River Nebula wound south to the east of the great road, ultimately reaching distant Mola, a town surrounded by fields of waving grain and filled with busy mills. Mola was a refuge for rebels and outcasts, and a site renowned for its brewing. It was said to have an active market in dreamweed, that substance outlawed by King Ouros but easily acquired throughout Incendium all the same.

  The road directly behind Percipia led to the Air Gate and beyond that, to the humid coastal region surrounding the town of Schola. The universities and colleges were located in Schola, along with a vibrant night life and music community. There were think tanks in Schola, innovative companies, a younger population, and an active arm of the government intent upon interrupting industrial espionage. Of all the cities on Incendium, Schola had the highest concentration of dragon shifters.

  Between the road to Schola and that to Gela, there was another road in Incendium city, one that had been added later. It led to the star station, where shuttles launched to and landed from the star port orbiting above. Between the star station and the city itself was the diplomatic quarter, with embassies and consulates in a wide variety of construction styles. The Star Gate sealed that quarter outside the city walls, and the military barracks were located between the Star Gate and the c
ity.

  Percipia was well aware that the city slept beneath them. There were no Starpods aloft and the road below was quiet.

  She and Bond could have been alone.

  Except for that periodic sound of feathers.

  As Bond slept and the distance passed beneath them, Percipia found her questions about him multiplying. She wondered whether he knew anything about the sudden departure of Anguissa’s ship—or whether it had been Anguissa who had made the choice. She wondered what he had done to be hunted, and where he was going. She wondered why he hesitated to surrender the Seed, as if he had doubts. She could respect that a man might want to be an active parent, but that was unnecessary in this case.

  She indulged herself in taking deep breaths of the scent of the Seed and found that it invigorated her in more than one way.

  She felt warm. Tingling. Vital.

  She had to convince him.

  Somehow.

  She heard the rustle of feathers again and changed her course, flying toward the jagged peaks of the Algor Mountains with their icy summits. It would be better to confront their attacker outside of a busy city, where no one else could be hurt. It might be easier to change Bond’s mind if she had him at her mercy.

  Percipia knew exactly the right spot.

  Incendium was thoroughly explored but there was one place that appeared on no map. Its location was a secret held in the memory of the royal dragon shifters.

  At the Aerie, she and Bond would be completely alone.

  Five

  Bond awakened, surprised to find that he couldn’t feel the wind anymore. He wasn’t in Percipia’s grasp either, although the bound book was tucked against his side. He was in an unfamiliar place, a massive room with a soaring ceiling and walls of smooth stone. He touched the one beside him, amazed by how smoothly polished it was, and thought of the passageway beneath Incendium city.

  If this was a tunnel, it wasn’t dark or confined. Part of the ceiling was clear glass and he could see the bright blue sky beyond it. There were torches mounted on the walls on all sides, although they weren’t currently lit. The sunlight coming through the glass panel lit the space and warmed it, too. He was lying on a long padded bench that was one of many in the room. There was a thick rug on the stone floor, one that was almost as big as the room itself.