by Kay Williams
There was no accusation in Aolir’s voice just the truth and almost a kind of praise.
“I am not sorry,” I replied.
Aolir looked at me a long moment and then he smiled, leaned across the console and pressed a lingering kiss to my forehead.
“Are you sure you are not a dragon?”
I froze in surprise at the kiss and the compliment; coming from a dragon I couldn't have been given a better one. Aolir sat back and we said nothing else for the rest of the short journey, until the car piloted itself down into the small underground bays beneath the block of flats I lived in. He switched off the engine and followed me up the stairs, I didn’t tell him not to, right then I was actually rather grateful to have the dragon by my side.
Aolir possessed a self-possession that was surprisingly calming.
I opened the door and welcomed him in, I hadn’t even shut the door before he was growling and striding purposefully across the room to run a hand over the Queen Anne cabinet. I closed the door while he continued to hum and growl to himself, making very dragon-like noises that sounded completely out of place coming from a human throat.
I went to the kitchen and found a microwave-from-frozen meal; three minutes and I would feel better.
“Fully restored.” I almost missed the words spoken in a loving growl. “I want it.”
“Can’t have it,” I shot back.
Aolir sulked at my instant response but the look didn’t last long as his eye caught something else.
I stood in my kitchen watching as Aolir ran his hands over my possessions with knowing and loving hands. I had never considered the things I decorated my home with as a hoard. I chose them because they were pretty, or useful, or desired by the Pre-Pause Society who would often help pay for any restoration. But watching a dragon work his way through my home, even going so far as to cradle a particular Steiff bear in the crook
of his arm I felt a pride that was often missing when people came to visit.
The bear Aolir had taken a fancy to was one of my favourites, called ‘Othello’ it was lovely 2012 replica of a black bear that was originally made in 1912 and was reissued to commemorate the sinking of the luxury White Star passenger liner the Titanic.
I loved the replica bear with his soft black mohair, beautiful glass eyes and his original growler that still worked when he was tipped, something that it was doing a lot as Aolir carted it about. The replica bear had been stuffed with wood shavings as the original 1912 bear would have been, but my bear had been found half submerged and the wood shavings had become sodden and rotten and needed to be changed for newer materials.
Aside that he was perfect and one of only 1,912 ever to be made.
“You can’t have that either,” I commented as I finished my dinner.
Aolir looked so wounded I almost laughed. I wondered if he would have even let me know where his hoard was let alone allowed me to spend time with it or possessively carry an item about as if I was going to take it home with me.
He opened another case and his eyes dilated; he put the bear aside very carefully and respectfully but clearly discarding it, and instead pulled out a wooden case, padded on the inside with a glass top. I knew that inside were Bank of England gold sovereigns, I had a good collection put together but my years were very hit and miss.
I had a couple from the nineteenth century a few more from the twentieth, a more sizeable number of the twenty-second and I had bought each one the London Mint had commissioned from when they began casting after the Pause starting in 2300.
Solid gold of varying carat weights clearly caught the eye of the dragon more than a stuffed toy, but even those coins were carefully put to one side as well when he found another padded case, this one larger but still with the glass top to it.
This one he tried to open and whined angrily when it refused to budge.
“It’s biometrically coded,” I said.
“I can see that.” Aolir thrust it at me. “Open it.”
It was strange really.
He had watched me kill a man, hung around the police station to pick me up afterwards and brought me home.
I had expected him to give me some lecture about the value of life, instead he had just accepted I had done what I had, and felt that my decorations and possessions were a more valuable topic of conversation.
I wanted to be the kind of person who needed to talk to someone after murdering a man, however deserved it was, but the truth was I didn’t. I didn’t need to talk, I didn’t care, I wasn’t bothered by flashbacks or sitting trying to think of what I could have done that wouldn’t have resulted in Snow’s death.
The truth was Snow was an evil man who murdered others in cold blood so he could kidnap other people to satisfy a hunger that could easily be sated in other legal ways.
I hadn’t murdered Snow in cold blood.
I had been warm and very much alive when I had done it and I didn’t regret it.
I took two sodas from the fridge and gave one to Aolir as I sat on the floor with him popping the tab on mine and pressing my thumb print to the case, the lid clicked open and the dragon hummed happily and he ran a finger over the wands inside the case.
Magic users required instruments, known as focus tools in order to cast High Tier Spells, these tools could be anything the magic user was comfortable with. A staff or a sword or a bow, sometimes they would even choose a person for the duty, most chose a wand because they were lightweight, small and could be made of anything.
Favlas was well known for Smiths and they had a Smith for everything from wood and the various metals, right through to glass, gems and even stone. These Smiths used their chosen material mixed with magic to create items, including focus tools.
It wasn’t uncommon to find a wooden sword carved by a Master Smith that was light as a feather and capable of cutting through flesh as if it was a hot knife in butter.
The case Aolir was fawning over was full of wands, each one bore the mark of a Master Smith and each one was of a different material, ten in total, including gold, silver, crystal and ebony.
“These should be securely locked up,” Aolir snarled.
“It’s charmed, both the box and the wands themselves, they can’t be removed from my flat without the counter ward and its conditions.”
“It still isn’t safe.”
“No-one knows they are here, Aolir, secrecy is a better deterrent than all the locks and wards on Favlas.”
“True,” he replied closing the case and allowing me to lock it; he picked it up and placed it with the other pieces. “I’ll give you ten US dollars for all this junk.”
I stared hard at Aolir a long minute, what I had taken as him discarding items now seemed to be more of a shopping basket.
“No!”
“It’s not worth more than fifty and that’s my final offer.”
If it wasn’t for the grin now tugging at his lips as he sought not to laugh at my expression, I might have been tempted to throw him out of the window and test the long disputed theory of whether dragons could shift while free-falling and have time to fly away.
“Where is your hoard, Aolir?”
“Ah,” he grinned openly now, carefully putting my things away now he was through pushing my buttons. “That would be telling, wouldn’t it?”
“Who watches it for you while you travel with the fair?”
“No-one. I don’t need to worry about it being stolen because no-one can ever find it.”
“Interesting.”
“I love your flat, Hannah.”
“Thank you.”
He got up and offered me his hands. I took both of them, enjoying the feeling of his defined scales against my skin.
“Using your abstract has left you drained.”
“I didn’t really go prepared for a battle.”
“What do you need to prepare?”
“Eat more.”
“Your abstract doesn’t use Essence but it burns off calories?”
&
nbsp; “Yes.”
“That explains your healthy but thin nature. May I suggest you start eating more?”
“Why?”
Aolir slid his hands up to my elbows and drew me against his chest.
“You killed one of Long’s own,” he answered, surprising me by knowing the name
Carson had given me. “Someone he trusted to do the job of five men, you did not just avoid him, or out-smart him you have also demonstrated your resolve not to go quietly and not without a fight. Long will be coming for you in earnest now.”
“That doesn’t give me hope, Aolir, there won’t always be a guillotine handy.”
“Then you must hope the Council of Carson’s will take proper steps now Snow has murdered a man.”
I hadn’t even realised I had tilted my neck to one side until Aolir began to nuzzle at it gently, leaving little kisses against skin made sensitive by his heat.
“What are you doing, Aolir?”
“I am going to attempt to seduce you, little warrior, will I be successful?”
I remembered thinking that Carson and his Bespelling had given me a pleasure nothing and no-one else could match, but the soft attention that Aolir was generously lavishing on me was beginning to persuade me that I had jumped to conclusions in my Bespelled state.
“If it keeps your paws off my hoard, dragon,” I answered, “I think you will.”
“Your hoard is in no danger from me,” he whispered.
Aolir’s tongue darted out to play with the lobe of my ear, the shock of discovering it was thick but forked in such an intimate way caused me to suck in a startled breath.
My hands seemed to have a wanton mind of their own as they coasted up his muscular arms, drinking in the power and heat of a creature that might look human enough but was a beast through and through.
Maybe I was twice the fool.
To make a mistake with Carson was one thing, we had just parted with harsh words, to make a mistake with Aolir would end up being far more complicated.
I shouldn’t have even been considering it, let alone returning his attentions, or trying to find his lips with my own or nudging him towards the bedroom.
It was hardly respectful after finding Pear dead little more than four hours ago to be indulging myself or my body, but I had done what I could to avenge him, his family at least would have the closure that came with the fact his murderer had met his own end and wouldn’t be hurting anyone else.
There was nothing more I could do for Pear now.
I had made sure Snow hadn’t lived to brag of his deeds and I was safe for the moment.
Aolir had been right when he said that this peaceful moment might not be long, so when his hands began to pull at my clothes I helped rather than resisted. When he growled and nipped, I returned the favour and when he whispered explicit requests into my ear I shut out everything but his demands and meeting them while whispering a few of my own back.
# # #
I woke naked and aching in places I didn’t know I had muscles. I stretched and realised that I was alone; I didn’t mind that so much, I had never been fond of the uncomfortable morning after where my date from the night before who had somehow managed to make it through dinner was now so scared of me they couldn’t get away fast enough.
Aolir didn’t suffer from the fear I seemed to inspire in everyone else and dragons were
known for being passionate. A boast I could now claim first-hand knowledge of if I wanted to, but they also lived solitary lives and the rearing of the young was left to either the mother or the father, depending on who managed to sneak away first while the egg was incubating.
I had to remind myself that Aolir wasn’t a man, and he would only be around long enough to satisfy his curiosity and perhaps run off with a few of my possessions.
My bedroom door opened and Aolir put his head around the door, we blinked at each other he seemed surprised to see me awake and after I had resolved myself against his absence I was surprised to see him at all.
Aolir had my personal mobile in his hand, which was pressed to his chest, his head tilted to one side and I was very aware of his intense look as it ate up my bare leg where it was entwined around the sheet, with a little sigh that was almost disappointed he lifted the phone to his ear.
“She is awake.”
“Who is it?” I mouthed, sitting up and tucking the sheet around me.
Aolir held up a finger for patience as he listened.
“Two hours.”
I could hear the angry tones of the response but couldn’t make out the words.
Aolir rolled his eyes as if he was dealing with a petulant child.
“Two hours,” Aolir repeated before hanging up. “Carson.”
“Couldn’t you have lied and said I asleep,” I winced.
A grin spread across Aolir’s face.
“He has gotten that response from me since eight this morning when your phone wouldn’t stop ringing and you were content to sleep through the racket.”
I glanced at the bedside clock, shocked to see it was almost eleven.
“Can I blame you for my lethargy?”
“I would be disappointed if you didn’t,” Aolir’s grin became smug.
“Do I have time to eat?”
“Yes. I have pancakes ready,” he turned out of my room, which meant he thankfully missed the way my mouth dropped open. “Get dressed first, you are distracting.”
I had never been distracting before.
I was getting in way over my head.
I pulled myself out of bed on a wince and stumbled into the bathroom.
Long minutes under the shower warmed me through and chased away cobwebs. A few more had me dressed simply and warmly using a turtleneck to hide the very visible hicky that Aolir's sharp teeth had left me with, and began the daily struggle with my hair. It was getting far too long, I scrapped it back into a rough tail and gave up with it.
The scent of pancakes and bacon encouraged me out of the bathroom and into the flat, it was clean and a quick glance told me the everything was accounted for but I couldn’t help but notice that almost everything was slightly out of place, as if it had been picked up, investigated and set back down again.
Without room for a dining table I had usually made do with sitting with a tray on my knees or standing by the kitchen counter.
Neither option had seemed to please Aolir who had had pushed my sofa back a bit and spread cushions and blankets on the carpet around the coffee table which had a cloth draped over it and was set with plates, utensils, a pot of coffee and one of tea, eggs,
bacon, toast and the promised pancakes.
The dragon himself had failed to lose his smug air and as far as I was concerned he had every right to it. I had never been spoiled like this before, and it wasn’t a good thing that Aolir had recognised it and was taking advantage of it.
“Come. Sit,” Aolir encouraged.
I made myself comfortable, surprised all over again when he filled my plate for me and poured out my coffee before seeing to himself.
“Tell me about Carson?” I asked
“He has called every thirty minutes since eight, at first he sounded very concerned for you, then he became weary and when I lost my temper so did he.”
“Sounds more like he is being pressured from his end,” I said after I thought about what I knew of Carson.
“You can hear the other Councillors in the background whenever he calls. They squabble like children.”
“I remember,” I agreed thinking of the way Valdine had picked at Carson in the car.
“He wouldn’t discuss details with me.”
“Then it would upset him greatly then if you were to accompany me when I go and find out what he wants?”
Aolir flashed his fangs and a ripple of magic made his scales shine silently accepting the invitation.
An hour later, just as I had finished two platefuls my mobile began to ring again. I managed to get to it before Aolir with a swift ment
al command that momentarily left the dragon with a confused expression when my phone flew from his hands and into mine. I recognised the number of my boss instantly and took a deep mental breath, reminding myself that I was supposed to have witnessed two deaths, one of whom had died in my arms, while the other had my life threatened.
“Roberts.”
“Hannah. I just got off the phone with the police. How are you?”
I liked Irrenitty, the Elf was good-natured, soft hearted and even in the middle of a crisis he was calm and humorous.
“I didn’t sleep well,” I answered, but that had more to do with a lustful dragon than any sense of guilt.
“I want you to take some time off. No arguments, the museum is going to be shut while the police crawl all over their crime scene, and no-one will be allowed into the reading room until a clean-up crew has certified that there is no risk of Dependant infection. They have your monitor, pager and work phone as evidence anyway, I’ll take over running things from Manchester and we’ll talk after the festival.”
“Thank you.”
“If you need to talk to anyone, Hannah, please put it on your expense account.”
“I will.”
“If you need anything, Hannah...”
“I’ll be alright. If Pear's family call about the funeral could you let me know? I wouldn’t want to disturb them but I want to say goodbye,” I answered, glad that I didn’t have to lie about that much.
“If I hear anything I’ll let you know.”
“Thank you.”
“Get some rest, Hannah.”
“I will.”
We rang off and one look at Aolir told me his dragon hearing had easily picked up on Irrenitty’s side of the conversation.
Without a word we stood as one, tidied up our mess and I allowed him to lead us to his rental. With Carson’s texted directions and my memory as a guide we made good time through Soho’s busy streets and back to Carson’s expensive bungalow.
I would have preferred to have gone back to Aolir’s tent.
It was Carson who answered the door, relief flicked in his expression a moment before he caught sight of Aolir, he looked a little uncomfortable but let us both in and led the way to his large diningroom. On the way, Aolir bent and whispered his distaste for all the imitation wood, if Carson heard him he ignored him.
