by Robin Wirth
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met that he’d even kept the book she read. She
curled back against him with a contented sigh.
“What happened to you?” he asked
groggily.
“I held it long enough to find a
restroom,” she said with a laugh.
“Probably a good thing we didn’t try
anything, then,” he chuckled wryly.
“Ew, Lance!” she grumbled, but then she
kissed his temple and laughed. “You are so
terrible, my love.”
“And you are so beautiful,” he
whispered. “Perhaps we could—”
“Yes!” she agreed before he even asked.
They kissed each other hotly, hands smoothing
and gripping along each other’s bodies with
tender need.
Lancelot slid his hand down to the apex
between Felicity’s thighs, and she bit into his
neck to keep from moaning. Laughing, he
unburied her sweet lips and coaxed the sound
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out of her yet again, so he could taste it on his
eager tongue.
“Sweet, sweet, sweet,” he whispered
over and over.
Felicity’s fingers sought out that place
she had discovered once before, making
Lancelot groan as well. But when he slid one
finger inside her, she stopped what she was
doing with a gasp.
“Gods, that’s nice,” she told him.
Lancelot chuckled, and bent to replace the
fingers with his tongue, making her writhe at the
exquisite torture.
“I know something that would be even
nicer,” Lance whispered against her flesh, and
the words made Felicity shudder with desire.
Their lips were still clinging together as
he moved over top of her, and Felicity moaned
softly, wrapping her arms around his waist. Her
heart was thundering like crazy as he
repositioned her legs around his own.
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With a gentle thrust, Lance entered her.
Felicity gasped at the slight pinch, but it was
soon forgotten as a heady desire for more took
over. “Please, Lance! Please!”
He needed no further encouragement
than this before he started to move in earnest.
Felicity clung to him as the unfamiliar but
pleasant sensations coursed through her body.
Wicked wizard that he was, Lancelot
knew just how to work his magic on her. It didn’t
take long before Felicity was writhing beneath
him, and every movement he made only seemed
to increase the heat that had completely taken
over.
When she came, it was like a wave of
white-hot desire flowed right over her, and she
was lost. She bit into his shoulder, but this time
she couldn’t hold back her sounds.
“Sweetest girl,” Lance moaned softly as
he rolled to the side and drew her into his arms.
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The two of them drifted off to sleep with
contented smiles.
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FORTY
Not too much later, a dragon suddenly
burst through the door. Lance quickly covered
the two of them with a blanket and glared at the
intrusion.
“There you two are,” said Tapur
urgently. “I think we’ve got a real situation on
our claws. Something is going on outside you
might want to know about.”
Lance sighed and rolled his eyes. His
patience for these interruptions was beginning to
wear thin.
“Very well,” he agreed. “Just let us find
something to wear, and we’ll be right there.”
Lancelot quickly checked his closet for
something that Felicity could decently wear, and
tossed her a shirt and a pair of pants. She looked
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at the extreme length of both garments, and
smirked.
“What’s so funny, sweetheart?” he asked
as he pulled on his own clothes.
“Are you sure I couldn’t just wear the
shirt as a dress?” she asked with a chuckle.
“Get some clothes on, imp,” he said as
he quickly pulled on his shoes. Felicity got out
her wand and made the clothes her size before
she pulled them on and followed him down the
hall.
“What is that horrid sound?” she asked
when they heard a loud wailing fill the sky. “Is
it some weird kind of storm?”
“Yes,” Lancelot told her grimly. “It is the
very same storm that always precedes a most
unwelcome visitor.”
“Do you mean Caracticus Snigget?”
Felicity asked worriedly.
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“One and the same,” he said. “But I do
believe this time we will be able to give him a
run for his money.”
“With a fleet of dragons at our disposal?”
Felicity chuckled. “I should think so.”
Princess Amara waited at the end of the
long hallway for the pair to appear, and fell into
step as they headed for the stairs and down to the
front door. “Do you know what is going on? I
have not heard a noise such as this for—well, for
well-nigh longer than you two could possibly
remember.”
“That is the distinctive calling card of
Caracticus Snigget, apparently,” Felicity told
her. “Lancelot says he always arrives like this.”
“That’s a dragon-made storm,” she
informed them sagely. “Did you not tell me that
this Snigget character becomes a dragon?”
“Yes,” Lancelot said. “It’s said he was
given the skill by the fairies.”
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“I fear that is a great load of nonsense,”
Amaranth assured him as she transformed to her
dragon form. “Only a true dragon-mage could
possibly know how to produce that storm. And
have I not told you before that dragons like to
keep different personas for their two forms? This
Snigget is a dragon, just as surely as I am. But I
had thought the other dragon-mages disappeared
when I did. I wonder how he escaped the curse.”
“I don’t really know,” Lance admitted.
“From every accounting I have heard,
Caracticus once served on the Council of Elders,
but he was thrown off for being too radical in his
thinking by none other than his friend, Archibald
Flanders. And he’s been making trouble for
people ever since.”
“That only makes sense,” she told him as
she cast a glance in his direction. “A dragon-
mage would hardly think along the same lines as
a group of very old humans. And a dragon
slighted can be a fury to behold.”
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“Don’t put the Council down too much,”
he teased her. “I in
tend to be one of those old
men myself someday.”
“And I’m sure you will do very well at
it,” she told him.
“Thanks,” he said, chuckling when
Felicity frowned at the exchange. He and
Amaranth both smirked as they headed out the
door.
“That better not be a flirtatious remark,
dragon,” she called after her as Amaranth
laughed. But she was not laughing for long.
“Oh, my,” she gasped as she looked
around. Several of the tents had caught fire, and
still the perpetrator of the crime was nowhere to
be seen. Most of the dragons had formed one
large group, backs inward, as they gazed up at
the sky.
“Do you really think invisibility is going
to work on me, Mr. Snigget?” Amaranth scoffed
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as she flew up into the air, straight and true to
where she alone knew the other dragon to be.
An angry roar broke the air. It sent
shivers down Felicity’s spine, and she backed up
toward the wall of the building behind her, filled
with terror.
Lancelot brandished his wand as he
glared at the now visible creature who flew
above them. The great red dragon reared
backwards and clawed at Amaranth with a
powerful swipe.
“Where did you come from, female?” he
demanded irritably. “There are no dragon-mages
left. How can you be here?”
“Don’t
be
stupid,”
Amaranth
admonished him. “You must know of my
legend. Who else could I possibly be?”
“You could only be one,” he agreed.
“Yet, one that was defeated once before. I can
easily defeat you again.”
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“Don’t be a fool, you doddering old
beast,” she told him. “You know well enough
that I have been hidden away in my mountain
with the Grimoire Draconis as my constant
companion for years unnumbered. There is no
telling how much I may have learned from it in
all that time.”
“If you know it, then you should be able
to prove it, female,” he sneered.
Without another word, Amaranth blasted
him with a breath of fire even as she cast a
lightning bolt that hit him square in his side.
Caracticus swore in his own language,
and Amaranth gasped at the insult, attacking him
yet again as she held her anger in check.
“What’s the matter, you don’t like me to
point out that your gender is inferior?” he
scoffed. “I hadn’t heard that women’s lib
extended to our species.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking
about,” she growled. “I merely did not like your
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assumption that I would lie. The giants once
accused me of lying, and look what I did to
them.”
“You may have exterminated the bulk of
their race, female, but they managed to
exterminate you as well, for the most part,” he
reminded her, barking out a laugh of disdain.
“You would be foolish to underestimate
me,” she said, blasting him with another breath
of fire.
“Don’t you know that your fire is useless
against my thick, red hide?” he asked. “Has it
been so long since you battled a real dragon?”
“You call yourself a real dragon?” she
sneered. “A real dragon would never seek to take
advantage of the lesser beings as you have taken
advantage of these humans over the centuries.”
Felicity smirked when she heard this. It
rang much too closely to what she had said about
her own people, and their treatment of the
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Mundanes. Perhaps such thoughts were
universally held.
“Women,” Lancelot scoffed lightly
beside her, and she turned to see him shaking his
head vigorously.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” asked
Felicity with a raised brow.
“You’re all alike,” he said with a smirk.
Since she’d just been thinking something
similar, though with far less disdain, Felicity
could hardly argue the point. Besides, arguing
during a pitched battle seemed to be a bit stupid,
if one thought about it, so she didn’t say
anything.
When Amaranth blasted the other
dragon three more times in quick succession, he
finally decided he’d had enough. With a
deafening roar, he turned and flew away. The
other dragons cheered and shook their tails at his
retreating form.
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“Well, I’m fairly certain the old boy will
be back eventually,” Lancelot commented. “At
least we have someone around who can put up a
better fight when he does.”
“I agree, human,” said Amaranth as she
alighted beside them and transformed. “We will
have to put up a guard against him, it seems.”
“Good idea,” Felicity said with a nod.
“He did not look like he wanted to play nice.”
“Males,” Princess Amara sniffed
disdainfully. “They’re all alike, are they not?”
Laughing at Lancelot’s face when he
heard this, Felicity grinned broadly and said,
“Yes, I do believe they are.”
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FORTY-ONE
“We really must get the Grimoire
Draconis to the Magical Museum before
Caracticus decides to come back,” said Lancelot
with a worried frown. “If he puts it together in
his mind that Amaranth must have the book with
her, he’ll stop at nothing to possess it. Once it’s
inside the Museum, it will be safe.”
“Yes, I quite agree with you,” said
Amara as they headed for the manor. “A dragon-
mage is no laughing matter, especially one with
so much power and bitterness pent up inside of
him. I believe this Snigget will be a terrible foe.”
“You don’t think Caracticus will try to
follow us to the Museum, do you, Lance?” asked
Felicity with some concern.
“If he does, I’ll take care of him yet
again,” said the princess with a vindictive smirk.
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“Come, we will have to leave within the
hour,” Lance said. “Post your guards as you will,
Princess, and then we will see the deed done.”
Not too much later, Lance and Felicity
mounted Amaranth and they flew off towards
London, leaving a vigilant group of dragons
behind. The sun was high in the sky now, and
they made quick work of the journey.
“We have arrived now, Your Highness,”
said Lancelot as he pointed to the Magical
Museum. Amaranth landed, and La
ncelot
helped Felicity down. “You should probably
come in as a human, Princess. We wouldn’t
want to give Dervish a fright.”
Chuckling wryly, Amaranth said, “No,
we wouldn’t want that, would we?”
As they traversed up the long hallway to
where Dervish’s office resided, Princess Amara
glanced curiously at all of the items on display.
“Is this what you intend to do with my book,
then?” she wanted to know.
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“Of course not,” Lancelot told her. “The
items out here are just for show. They are put
here to keep the general public from attempting
to see what is really being kept inside. Beyond
this part of the Museum, where others cannot
see, is a secret area guarded by many spells and
wards. Only those who have permission to
access that place can ever get inside.”
“It would appear Dervish is not in his
office,” said Felicity with a slight frown. “You
don’t suppose he’s in the secret place of which
you speak, do you, my dear?”
“I would bank on it,” Lancelot said as he
leaned down to kiss her ear.
Amara was looking at a display inside
one of the glass cases, so he took that moment to
slide a hand from Felicity’s shoulder down to
her arse, giving the latter a squeeze before he let
her go again.
Felicity blushed at the contact. Dervish
could be anywhere within the museum, and
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while she had no qualms about admitting her
feelings for Lancelot Jones to the man, she
would rather that admission be his first
knowledge that the two had become closer,
rather than explaining after he’d discovered it
for himself.
“I saw that,” Amara chuckled. “Do you
two need to get a room? I had thought that you
