Dragon Her Back

by Susannah Scott

  “What would the others think if they knew two of my lieutenants were fighting?” Alec said. “Chaos. That’s what.”

  Darius didn’t waste time defending his actions. “I need a word with you, in private.”

  “Lil, that wasn’t necessary.” Lucy had her right hand to her chest and a wide-eyed look of shock on her face. “I’m sure Darius thought you called him into the room or something…” She tilted her head to him, encouraging him to agree.

  He suppressed a sigh. He didn’t have time for this shit, but he would not be rude to the queen.

  “You are kind as well as beautiful.” He sketched a half-bow, acknowledging Lucy’s attempt to allow him to save face.

  “Okay then.” Lucy ran her hand down Alec’s arm. “We needed a break anyway.” At Alec’s frown, she added, “Well, I need a break. All that incessant counting. My God. If you’d told me I’d have to dance every time the moon comes up…”

  “What would you have done?” Alec raised his eyebrows, as if he couldn’t wait for the other end of her “if.” Palpable sexual chemistry coursed from the duo, so that Darius looked away to give them a moment of privacy.

  Lucy laughed, clearly not at all quelled. “Don’t be long.”

  “You royalnesses you mustn’t stop now. You’ll get cold.” The Maestro fussed in the corner. “Then we’ll have to start all over again.”

  Lucy rolled her eyes and squeezed Alec’s arm. “We better not have to start over.”

  Alec walked farther into his private quarters. Darius followed him across the gilded foyer of his penthouse and joined Alec in his private office.

  Darius had wrestled with his conscience after the confrontation with Mei.

  It hadn’t taken long. Never would he allow her to be harmed, but Alec needed to know if an attack was imminent.

  “What’s going on?” Alec asked.

  “I have intel that an attack may be planned at the Snow Gala.” He leaned against the pocket doorframe, effectively blocking Alec’s exit. It was a bold move, and the King’s tense perusal let him know he noticed it. Alec turned his back on him and filled a glass of water at the half bar.

  “Is it the Siberians again?” Alec referred to the most vocal dissenters.

  Here was the tricky part—giving enough truth to raise the level of security at the sanctuary and beyond, but not sparking questions that would lead to Mei.

  “The Chinese.” It was somewhat true.

  Alec took a slow sip of his water before facing him. “They’ve sworn their allegiance.”

  “I know.”

  “Tell me about the threat.”

  “An unregistered group has asked to attend the gala. A Bo Quan and his retinue.”

  “What does the ambassador say?” Alec referred to the visiting ambassador from China.

  Every non-dissenting dragon enclave in the world maintained a presence at the dragon sanctuary. Hostage or diplomat, the line was thin, but it ensured direct contact with the secretive and far-flung subjects. In the recent years of peace, the posting was envied and sought after competitively among the dragon folds of the world.

  “He disavows knowledge. I’ve sent in ground sources to investigate, but they can’t find this group.”

  “Nowhere?” Alec’s voice was understandably incredulous. Dragons were not limited to such things as airplane routes and drivable roads. Everyone was findable.

  He shook his head. “I’m concerned enough to disrupt your dancing.”

  It was a dig. Alec narrowed his eyes.

  Darius met his stare, unafraid of the powerful King whom he’d served from the beginning of his ascension to the throne. Alec had handpicked him from his computer lab in Moscow and coaxed him to join his team to reunite the folds. The challenge and nobility of the mission had lured him, but once he’d met Mei, he was all in. Wherever she was, that was where he would be as well.

  Mei had been unequivocally tied to the king, and now he knew why. The water dragons would never dare reach for her in the dragon stronghold. Until now.

  Alec sat his glass aside. “Increase the guards and call back the forward scouts.”

  “Yes, sir.” His duty accomplished, his mind immediately went to protecting his mate. “Mei and I won’t be attending the gala. We’re taking some time to get to know each other better.”

  Alec put his hands on the counter behind him. “This is her choice?”

  “Of course.” He bristled at the suggestion he was making her do something against her will.

  “I would like to hear it from her.” Alec’s stare was direct.

  He stared hard at his king, knowing this was a tipping point. Alec needed to back off and let him handle Mei.

  “I don’t interfere with your relationship with your mate.”

  The king stepped forward into his personal space, and his eyes flared with the banked fury of his fire dragon. “Mei is my subject, too. I’m responsible for her safety. I promised her sanctuary and will protect her from all, even you.”

  He hoped to God that was true.

  “I may well remind you of that one day.” Darius stood his ground, his own ice dragon pushing to the surface so the kitchen grew cold and frost puffed between them.

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means no one wants her safe more than I do.” At his sides, his hands coiled into fists. “You’re going to have to trust me on this.” For a long moment, they stared at each other, two fierce beasts squared off in a too tiny space.

  “You’ve not always behaved honorably.”

  His days of bullying and manipulating Mei were over. They were in this together. He’d not force anything on her she didn’t want, even if it meant they did not complete their bond. His sole concern for her now was her safety.

  Darius managed a nod. “Accepted.”

  The fight left Alec slowly. His shoulders fell, and his stance relaxed. He stepped backward to lean on the counter edge again. He looked through Darius, as if considering his options.

  This was one of the many reasons Alec was perhaps the only dragon in the kingdom fit to rule them all. His control over his fire dragon was legendary, even when challenged. He was a formidable foe, lethal, but even when dragon fire surged through him, he was fair and just. Lucy was literally the only soul in the world Darius had ever seen make him lose his cool.

  “Do you think Lucy is at risk?” Alec asked.

  It was a fair question, one he’d not considered. Any dragon really wanting to hurt the king, or usurp his throne, would know Lucy was his Achilles’ heel. Even though Alec’s dragon form was restored with his completed bond with Lucy, the loss of her at his side would be a staggering blow.

  “I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “Perhaps.”

  Alec nodded and straightened, and Darius could tell his mind was on getting Lucy to safety. He moved to the side and Alec brushed past him into the penthouse.

  When Darius opened the door to leave, Alec stopped him.

  “You should try dancing with Mei if you really aim to get to know her better,” Alec said. “Nothing is more telling than a dance.”

  “I will.” Darius smiled at the suggestion, understanding that Alec was making peace with him, accepting that he would respect Mei.

  “Thank you for your excellent work for the throne,” he added.

  A twinge of guilt slithered up his spine for all that he had not told Alec. He forced the smile to stay on his face. “I serve at your pleasure, my king.”

  Chapter Ten

  “Hello,” Mei called down the concrete apartment stairwell to the human jogging down the apartment stairs. It was before dawn, Saturday morning, the day of the gala.

  “Yeah?” A male human called back.

  “Didn’t want to startle you.”

  “Thanks,” he called back, his voice out of breath and retreating.

  She and Jane had chosen the apartment complex for its proximity to the Crown Jewel and its high roof. They could’ve lived in the sanctuary on the top
of the casino, but they liked having separation from the volatile dragons. The narrow apartment building, squeezed between the MGM and Tropicana, was perfect.

  Had been perfect.

  She swallowed a lump in her throat that seemed to lodge in her chest, tightening painfully under her heart. Enough. She shook her head, determined to put aside the swelling sadness that overwhelmed her, knowing this time when she left the apartment that she would not return. Shouldering her pack, she stepped up to the roof exit.

  She’d been alone before and survived. She would survive again.

  Mei squinted her swollen eyes against the morning dawn that stretched from the desert flat horizon, backlighting the cluttered Vegas Strip skyline in crimson. “Red sky in the morning, sailor take warning,” they’d said on the Crescent Islands. The same didn’t hold true in Vegas, where it rarely rained, and the sky was nearly always red in the morning with dust from the Nevada desert.

  Mei lifted her face to the sky. Breathing in the strong wind, she searched for moisture in the air, wishing for it with every cell of her body, but finding none. She was accustomed to the arid conditions now. At times, it had been excruciating to be a water dragon in the middle of the desert, her pores parched and wrung out, her very essence depleted.

  Shaking off the hollow ache in her bones, she turned her mind inward, to the elemental pool separating her dragon from her humanity. When she was ready, she magically shed her clothes and jumped off the roof, into the crimson dawn.

  Her dragon wings unfurled with a sluggish snap, making her lose altitude. Her legs retracted to her chest, giving her none of the lunging momentum the other dragons utilized to zip through the sky.

  Ahead of her in the west, the moon descended as the sun rose over Vegas. Stars twinkled above, the morning star shimmering blue-white, the brightest of the bunch. Her dragon pushed hard, giving an unwavering effort that would have sent a fire, or ice, or even a storm dragon hurtling toward the clouds at a rapid pace.

  When she had been a girl, she’d wondered what it would be like to soar on the heavens. Now she knew it was a lot of hard work. Water dragons were made for swimming. Her smooth body, so graceful in the water, slogged through the air like a fish.

  Exactly like a fish—out of water.

  For several minutes, she labored to gain altitude. She didn’t worry about being seen by the humans below. The humans never looked up and were oblivious to their own vulnerability. In the mirrored walls of the casinos, she was just a reflected blue blip, flopping through the sky like a torn banner caught in the wind.

  When she finally brushed the clouds, the tingle of moisture on her skin filled her with satisfaction at reaching her first goal. Her chest heaved in and out with the effort of the climb, and she wobbled in the cooler currents.

  After an hour of flying, she reached the dam on Lake Mead. The water levels in the lake were alarmingly low, another example of the idiocy of humans to squander their most precious resource on grass and pristine hotel linens.

  She’d already had to relocate her water lair once to keep it below the human dive threshold of one-hundred-thirty- feet. Her lair lay deep in the heart of the lake now. Beyond the gypsum beds, and at such a depth that only an expert diver who knew what he was searching for would ever find it.

  Through the veil of the clouds, she inhaled the scent of the lake. Pungent and stagnate at the banks, but fresh and refreshing cool at its center. She scanned for boats and any observant humans who might notice her approach. With relief, she saw they were nestled in the tourist coves, and none were near the middle of the lake.

  Tucking her head to her chest, she flatted her exhausted wings to her ribs and dove, heavy as a cannonball, toward the deep water. She escaped all her worries with a single splash, and immediately, her parched cells opened and soaked nourishment from the water like a sponge.

  She was in no hurry now.

  She was safe under the water, able to remain submerged for several hours at a time. Her dragon hung suspended, fifty feet below the surface, where the light from the sun refracted crystal prisms around her tired limbs. She relished the quiet, relished the serenity found here, and she closed her eyelids and let the nourishing water penetrate to her soul.

  A three-foot carp swam by, brushing her tail and prompting her immediate attention. She liked carp, but she was not yet ready to eat. The fish’s pale-scaled body circled her as if curious, not at all alarmed at her underwater presence.

  Schools of green and bluegill sunfish swam close, flashing their bright colors. The fresh water was not as alive as the ocean with its tides and reefs and vast undiscovered plateaus, but it was enough. Mei spread her wings so that the bluegills might swim closer. So close, she could hear the happiness of their little hearts beating nearly in unison.

  Sizzling magic nudged through her veins at the reunion with her elemental source. Below her, the sparkle of the lake’s gypsum beds beckoned, and she turned her nose downward. The filtered sunlight struck the deposits and sent cascading light dancing through the water, creating the effect of being inside a mirror ball.

  SuLyn, her only friend from the islands, would have loved her lake. Memories surfaced and swam through her mind. The past was an open, gentle current under the water now, able to be sampled without her being swamped.

  “One day, I’ll swim even faster than you,” SuLyn had said to her. SuLyn had always wanted to be bigger, better than all the other women.

  Mei hadn’t had any ambition beyond what Li had wanted, and her friend’s challenge rolled off her like water droplets on a slanted rooftop.

  Where was SuLyn now?

  Did she suspect that Mei was still alive? When she’d escaped, she’d tried to get SuLyn to come with her, but her friend had chosen to stay rather than dishonor her family. Did she regret not running away when she had the chance?

  The web of lies was so thick on the islands. Generations had been born into it, mated into it, birthed into it without having any idea that there were other dragons in the world. Dragons who despised them. Dragons who would kill them if they knew of their existence.

  “Where will you make your lair?” SuLyn had asked.

  “I don’t know.” Mei had been a dreamer then, content to let the world come to her. Trusting and naïve.

  “You’ve never thought of it?”

  “No,” Mei had replied. There’d been no need.

  As the only child of the Triton house, her position on the islands had seemed secure and certain. She would find the perfect spot for the jewels she would eventually collect. She would marry her soul mate, Li, and live happily ever after. She was certain her life would unfold the way it should. She was content to swim through her life as she did the water, at a decorous pace.

  “I’m not going to put my lair underwater,” SuLyn had said. “It’s too predictable.”

  They’d been huddled together on the clay roof tiles of the Assembly house, watching the stars over the South China Sea and the fledgling water dragons learning to fly. Inevitably, one would tip too far in one direction and crash into the water below. It was an entertaining sight, which the two loved to watch. Truth be told, young water dragons all over the islands snuck out at night to witness these first attempts at flight.

  “You’re crazy,” Mei had scoffed. “The pearls need the moisture. It is the best place. Besides, the ocean is so vast, your jewels will be hidden.”

  “I heard that the humans dive for sunken ships and treasures. I’ll not risk my lair being found.”

  The caution was well known. You must choose your lair away from the human’s shipping lanes. The thought of a treasure falling into their hands was repugnant to both of them, and they shook their heads together in agreement.

  “I’ll put mine—“

  “No, don’t tell me.” Mei stuck to the rules. It was forbidden to share lair locations. She had been a good girl, a good little rule-minder then. SuLyn had frowned at her, clearly feeling certain that Mei, her beloved best friend, would never,
ever betray her.

  But she had. She was certain SuLyn had been punished when she’d run away.

  And now, she was running again, and it was Darius who would suffer.

  Her dragon stopped swimming, lost in regret and painful memories. She shook hard, twisting like a corkscrew in the water as if she could throw off the hurt. She leveled out and stroked fast, going faster and faster, her webbed wings pushing through the water, so that her body ached with the effort. She forced herself to stop and glide on the momentum forward, forced the pain behind her into the ripples.

  Mei. She heard the faint call of her jewels while still fathoms away. Her dragon surged forward, as if blanketing herself in the welcome chorus.

  I’m coming, she called through the water, and she swam faster in eager anticipation. I’m coming to you.

  Along the bottom of the lake, the sunken remains of the town of St. Thomas appeared. It spilled across the dirt, an actual ghost town encased in moss and silt. Some might find it eerie to see the houses lined up in rows, with a sign still standing that read Main Street. Not Mei. She felt at home among the remnants of the old human civilization.

  Dark-colored deep-water fish darted around a swing set in a back yard, rusted now. A wooden swing seat floated above the top bar, higher than any child’s legs could have pumped it. The house had been white at one time, but now algae claimed it, and the windows and doors gaped open. It was here that she had hidden her lair.

  Her dragon squeezed inside the house, feeling the familiar hum of her pearls singing to welcome her home. She pulled her wings to her sides and settled on the warped wood floor. In the center of the room, a trap door led to a root cellar. Using her front talon, she lifted the hatch and slipped downward.

  The cellar was pitch black, and Mei paused for a moment to allow her eyes to adjust. The music of her jewels drowned out all sounds now. Their song was deep and mellow, like a cello quartet, but without the longing the slow pull of the bow across strings evoked.