He looked down at her, puzzled. "Very well."
Lisa laughed. "Give me some time to sleep, and I'll send you back to the archive. The white dragon is confined, and your sprite is probably still puttering around, but you can confront him later. The book will be safe with me."
Caleb said nothing, but the belligerent stare he turned on them spoke louder than words.
"I get the hint," Saba said. She reached for Malcolm's hand, suppressing a shiver of warmth as she touched him. "Come on, Malcolm, time to go to our rooms."
His frown increased, but he followed her to the door. Before she opened it, Saba turned back. "Oh, Lisa, I almost forgot. I also learned Malcolm's—"
Her words cut off as Malcolm shoved Saba out into the chilly morning and banged the door behind them.
"You said she needed to sleep," he growled. "Let her sleep."
Saba drew a breath to protest, but Malcolm fixed her with a silver stare, and she gave up.
She pulled two plastic key cards from her pocket and shoved one into Malcolm's hand. "I got you the room next door."
He gazed down at the small rectangle of plastic, then at her. "You do not stay in this room with me?"
She swallowed. "Mine's the one beyond."
Malcolm slid his keycard into his jacket pocket, took her elbow, and pushed her to the next room down. "Then we will use yours."
Saba started to argue, then subsided. She hadn't thought Malcolm would want her with him after his anger at her for learning his true name. Not three minutes ago he'd been ready to dive back into Dragonspace without a thought for her. Once Lisa had rested he'd no doubt badger her to make another door and then he'd be gone.
For good this time. Once Malcolm was back in his archive, his book restored, he'd have no reason to leave it.
"All right," Saba said. Hands shaking, she slid her key-card into the slot and pushed open the door into the stuffy motel room.
Malcolm took a shower. Saba sat on the bed watching inane morning television and listened to water beating on tile in the next room. She tried not to imagine droplets streaking down his well-muscled body, tried not to think of water slicking his hair and beading on his eyelashes and the hollow of his lips.
She tried not to think about anything at all as she stared blankly at the images on the screen. Ideas drummed through her head nonetheless, things falling into place—the white dragon's quest for the archive, Metz the grouchy sprite who refused to leave, the flowing music of Malcolm's name, the dark ropes of magic that had tried to kill her.
The water shut off with a squeal of pipes. After a few minutes, the door swung open, letting out a swirl of steam and Malcolm with a towel around his shoulders.
He'd tied back his hair, which was black with water and hung in a long, dripping tail down his spine. His body was damp, the black hair on his chest and legs and between his thighs pressed into flat rivulets. The mirror showed the pale tightness of his bare buttocks, a droplet from his hair sliding between the cheeks. He hadn't shaved in two days, and a black brush of whiskers covered his face.
Saba stared at the delectability of him, her finger hard on the off button of the television remote.
"Most men wrap the towels around their waists," she said, surprised at the steadiness in her voice.
"Why?"
"I don't know. To cover up, I suppose."
His wet brows drew down. "If I trust a woman to sit in the outer room while I shower, I must trust her enough not to cover myself with a towel."
"Yes, well, I suppose there's logic in there somewhere."
He studied her with a measured gaze. "Why are you not sleeping? You had as wakeful a night as I, and you are tired."
"I was waiting for you."
His eyes darkened. He moved to the curtained windows and moved one drape over another shutting out the last crack of light. Then he walked to the bed, his very uncovered erection rising in the gloom. He stretched himself out on the bed next to her, letting the damp towel fall, and ran his tongue across the hollow of her throat. The remote fell from Saba's nerveless fingers.
"Why didn't you let me tell Lisa I knew your true name?" she murmured.
"She could not remove the knowledge from the white dragon," he answered, busying himself with her neck. "So I want you to keep the knowledge, too."
"You told me that I and the white dragon could pull you apart."
"You can. But as long as he knows the name, I want you to keep it as well. It is important."
"I don't understand any of this."
"That doesn't matter."
"Exactly the kind of cryptic thing I expect you to say."
His breath touched hers in the dark. "If you know I will be cryptic, why do you ask me questions?"
She shrugged. "On the off chance I might get a straight answer?"
He looked like he actually might smile or at least think about it. He nuzzled her neck again. "Would you like to pleasure me?"
Her voice quavered. "I wouldn't mind."
He drew warm fingers along her jaw and kissed the side of her mouth. "What will you do this time?"
Saba's mind whirled with possibilities. "Well, since you're already unclothed, why don't you lie down on your back?"
He took his time, giving her a long, slow kiss. Then he rolled over flat and laced his hands behind his head, waiting expectantly. Saba rose to straddle him, her knees on either side of his body. She watched his arousal, high and hard, lifting between them.
It wasn't long before she decided to slide her fingers along the heavy length of him. His shaft was warm, her entire hand barely able to fit around it.
"You are trusting me with your name," she said, lightly tracing the flange and the skin beneath it. He moved in pleasure. "Just like you trust me enough not to wear the towel around your waist?"
"I have no choice but to trust you."
"You do have a choice," she said softly. "I wish you would believe that I'd never harm you, no matter how much power I had over you."
Malcolm spread out his arms across the bed, opening himself to her. "You have it over me now." His voice was a velvet rumble in the darkness. "Do what you will."
Saba remembered the same velvet of his voice when he said Saba as he plunged toward the bay, convinced he was going to his death. The last word he'd thought had been her name.
Tonight he lay here still tired from the fight and from spending the night in jail, and he was telling her to do her worst. He was at her mercy.
She looked him over, the beautiful, strong man, muscles firm, flesh stretched tight. Bruises still dotted his torso, but the incredible strength and healing power of the black dragon had erased most of his wounds already. His wet hair left droplets along his neck and shoulders, and the first thing she did was lean down and lick them off.
Malcolm clenched his fists, making a warm noise in his throat. She loved doing this, watching his eyes grow heavy with passion, feeling him jump under her touch, hearing the soft sound that he couldn't hold back.
She'd always wanted to do one thing to him, had dreamed of it. He'd be standing, sometimes in a bathtub just ready to get out, wet like he was tonight. She'd smile at him and make him stay where he was while she slid to her knees. Then she'd open her mouth and take his long luscious staff inside, all hard and waiting for her.
She'd imagined the taste of him—her dreams for the last eight months had driven her crazy, taunting her with it. After she'd done the locator spell for him, when they'd made love on the chair in her dining room, she'd been able to touch his tip with her tongue before he'd dragged her up to him to make love fully. She wanted more, wanted to taste all of him.
Saba was still dressed, and she pulled off her clothes so she could be bare against him. Running her hands down his thighs, she positioned herself between his legs and bent over to slide her lips around him.
His groan vibrated the bed. Daringly she put her hands on his wrists, pinning him down, though he wasn't fighting her. She used her tongue to tease his
flange, and then opened her mouth to slide her tongue all the way around him.
"Goddess, help me," he whispered. His hands were in her hair, restless.
He tasted heavenly. A warm dark taste, velvety good. She busied herself with him, licking from the faint saltiness of his tip all the way to the base, his hair coarse against her tongue.
Saba liked the way he moved under her as though he couldn't get enough. She liked the way his head tossed from side to side, his hips involuntarily rising. The way his fingers tangled in her hair, the way his hands trembled as he held back from pressing her as hard onto him as he could.
She felt, beneath her strokes, the buildup to his climax, the slight jerking motion that began below his balls and rose through his stem. Suddenly he seized her arms in an iron grip and hauled her up to kiss her.
"I wasn't finished," she said with a pout.
"I want to be inside you." His words were hoarse, eyes gleaming slits of silver.
She gave him a little smile. "I suppose I'll have to be contented with that."
He glared at her. "Now."
She laughed, loving her power. She slid her leg over his hips and stroked her hands down his torso, fingers finding ridges of scars. "Are you sure you're all right?"
"Perfectly." He spoke in a grating whisper, jaw tight. "You healed me."
"I wish I felt more healed. I'm not a dragon or a god of some kind. Just a human who feels every bruise."
Malcolm slid large hands over her wrists. "I will heal you."
She let sin enter her smile. "How were you planning to do that?"
For answer he seized her hips and pulled her hard down on him, lifting himself all the way inside. Saba's skin rippled with gooseflesh, hot and cold at the same time. She couldn't help her groan of delight, and her head went back, the ends of her hair tickling her neck like warm silk.
They made love in the half light, Malcolm holding her, Saba riding him. His fingers bit into her thighs as he drove deep inside her. The last time, she thought. This might be for the last time.
Malcolm would return to his archive and become absorbed in cataloging and protecting his collection. A century might pass before he thought of Saba again, and then… there would be faint regret that of course the witch was long dead and in his past.
Tears formed in her eyes and slid down her cheeks. Malcolm brushed one away with a gentle finger.
To punish him for being so tender, Saba squeezed every muscle she had, and he clenched his jaw as he felt it. He bumped his hips harder and higher and held her fast as his seed shot into her.
With Malcolm, she'd learned, there was no collapse and basking in afterglow. He slid her from him and onto the bed, then he rolled onto her and showed her how much he knew what pleasured her—in this case hard and fast, rough and erotic sex.
When she was screaming with climax, he withdrew, eased her onto her stomach, and covered her again with his body. He slid himself into her once more and began to pump, slowly and gently at first, then building to where she'd been and beyond. Her knees and hands ached from the rough blankets, her throat hoarse from screaming, and Malcolm took the pleasure still higher.
After a long time, he softly grunted his own release, and stilled. They lay together for a long time, his limbs twined with hers, his body slicked with a mixture of sweat and dampness from his shower. He kissed her bruised lips, and she felt the heat of his mouth on her temple.
"I will never forget you," he said. "Never."
Saba closed her eyes quickly before he could see her tears. She stayed like that, not looking at him, while he stroked her skin and kissed her.
He was leaving, no doubt of it. She tried to stay awake and argue with him, but Saba's exhausted body, after a long day and a full night and the frenzy of lovemaking, slid her toward sleep.
He did that on purpose, was her last thought, then nothing.
Malcolm dressed noiselessly, trying not to look at Saba tangled in the sheets. If he looked at her, he'd want to stay, and he had too many tasks to perform to linger.
She was safer here in any case. She had Lisa and Caleb to look after her, Lumi to befriend her, Axel to protect her, Ming Ue to guide her. Malcolm felt a momentary twinge of guilt when he remembered his promise to Ming Ue that he'd participate in the Chinese New Year's celebration, but Caleb could go in his place. The golden dragon loved to show off.
Saba would be protected and loved and go on with her life. Malcolm would do what he needed to do to destroy the white dragon, rebuild the archive, and discover the extent of the damage. He thought of Metz with cold anger—if his trusted assistant had anything to do with this mess, he would pay dearly.
Malcolm quietly pulled on his coat. It would be easy to leave now, while Saba slept. He should go quickly in case she woke, but something made him stand at the end of the bed for a long time watching her sleep.
Her short black hair stuck up every which way, her head was pillowed on her white arm, dark lashes against her cheek. The swell of her bosom peeked above the sheets, one hip bared by the folds. She was so painfully lovely, and she always had been. From the moment he'd found her in that rundown apartment in SoMa, he'd known Saba belonged to him.
He'd seen her face when she beheld Lisa's babies, the longing in her eyes. Caleb and Lisa could have children together because Lisa was so very magical, but Malcolm was a dragon and Saba was definitely human, and very likely their efforts would produce nothing.
She deserved so much more than nothing.
Before Malcolm finally left the room, he reached to the side of the bed and took Saba's cell phone with him.
* * *
Chapter 20
At the end of the balcony that overlooked the parking lot, Malcolm flipped open the cell phone and dialed Axel's number.
The imp answered cheerfully. "So they sprang you," he said. "What's up?"
Malcolm and Axel had a very long conversation and discussed many things. When Malcolm hung up, he thought he understood very well what was going on.
It was late afternoon, and thankfully, he heard no sexual noises from the bedroom that housed Lisa and Caleb. He rapped gently, and the door was opened by Caleb in jeans and nothing else.
Lisa wasn't asleep; she sat at the rickety table in the room eating a take-out Chinese meal Caleb had fetched for her. She looked up as Malcolm walked in and Caleb closed the door behind him, her face relaxed, the exhaustion gone. The silver dragon had amazing powers of recovery.
Malcolm was direct. "I need you to send me back to the archive, if you're ready." He laid the cell phone next to a white cardboard take-out container. "And give this back to Saba when she wakes up."
Lisa pinched a bit of chicken and rice between her chopsticks. "You don't want to wake her up now?"
"No."
Lisa watched him, and Caleb came to stand behind her, strong arms folded over a bare chest. Lisa ate and laid down her chopsticks. "I'm very fond of Saba."
"I have already heard this from Caleb and Axel." Why Saba's friends supposed he would simply desert her was beyond him. He was bound to her in ways no one could fathom.
Lisa's eyes softened. "I don't mean to lecture, Malcolm. I simply don't want to see her hurt. She's suffered enough."
"She will suffer no longer." He lifted the book from the table next to her and held it against his chest. "I need to return the book and put things right. There is much to do."
"I agree the book must be secured in the archive again," she said. "It is quite dangerous."
Caleb rumbled. "Bloody books. You could protect it, Lisa, better than he can, obviously."
"I have so many things to protect now." Her eyes softened even more and a longing entered them, and Malcolm knew she thought of her children waiting back in San Francisco. Well, once he was off to the archive, she could return to them, taking Saba with her. "This is Malcolm's responsibility," she went on. "And he will execute it."
Caleb frowned at him, but Malcolm understood. The silver dragon expected him to f
ix everything and make the world safe again, and if he didn't she'd be cross.
"Why didn't you kill him?" he asked. "The white dragon?"
Lisa smiled, eyes glinting. "Because I'm cruel. I'd rather have him suffer for nearly costing my children their lives. If he escapes his confinement, he knows what I will do to him. Death would be too easy."
Malcolm raised his brows as he shed his coat and shirt. "You and my Saba, you make a formidable pair."
"We certainly do. Are you ready?"
Malcolm stripped off the rest of his clothes without embarrassment and lifted The Book of All Dragons in his arms. "Look after her for me."
Lisa gave him a gentle smile as she rose to her feet. "I will."
Saying nothing more, she created the door, and Malcolm stepped into the bright light and became a black dragon.
"Good riddance," he heard Caleb rumble and then the slit closed.
Malcolm cradled the book in his front talon and launched himself into the sky to fly the short distance to the archive.
Not much later, Saba stared numbly at the cell phone Lisa handed her. Containers that had once held Chinese food were scattered all over Lisa's room, two pairs of used wooden chopsticks placed in a careful pile.
Lisa laid her hand over Saba's. "I'm sorry. He was right; he needed to go."
And he knew that Saba would argue with him, insisting on going with him. He'd wanted to avoid a prolonged discussion, and worse, agonized good-byes. At least, agonized on Saba's part.
"Not your fault." Saba swallowed on her dry throat. "The black dragon does what he pleases. I'm the one stupid enough to fall in love with him."
For once Caleb refrained from sarcastic comments about Malcolm. He patted her shoulder, looking sympathetic. "I saved the veggie noodles for you. I know you like those best."
Saba dissolved into tears and had to sit down hard on the bed. Through blurred eyes she saw Caleb and Lisa exchange a glance of worried friends who didn't quite know what to do.
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