RAWN

by Burrows, Bonnie

  When the word got out about Rawn's power, his valor, his might, and the way the other Knights had rallied behind him and stormed their way to triumph, he'd come home a

  conquering hero. The people had poured into the streets of Silverwing to cheer and praise him. He could hear the echoes of their shouts and applause, the music they played, the expressions of love and admiration, even now.

  And if he were honest, Rawn had to admit he had loved it, because he had set out to protect those weaker than he, to defend the powerless, to preserve life, and because that was the day he knew he had become the Knight that he dreamed of being and that his people saw him as exactly who he wanted to be. He was proud--not vain, not arrogant, just proud--because he had done it for love of world and people, and he had succeeded fantastically in every measure. And once the day of celebration and cheering and plaudits were over, Rawn still had a war to win, worlds to protect, lives to save, a purpose to fulfill. Yes, it was glory, but it was a glory with a purpose.

  What was the purpose of all this now? A parade in his honor, a gala ball with people dressed up and drinking and dancing in some fancily decorated space, all for the admiration of him. Rawn understood that people were happy to see his homecoming, interested in everything about him, fascinated with the powers that he alone of all Knights possessed, eager to be in his presence--and some even his bed. Or to have him in theirs. But the whole prospect of the week to come frankly made Rawn wish that some new enemy or enemies would make themselves known, would swoop in for the attack and give him something to do besides bask in the praise and adulation of an entire planet--or wish that he could simply have the chance to lie with just one female and be a man again. Not a conquering dragon, not a triumphant hero, but just a man sharing himself with a woman and enjoying it--all night long.

  "Bane and damn," he muttered to himself. "If I'm to be petted, there is a kind of petting I'd much prefer--and one person I'd prefer it from."

  His frustrated erection in the water underscored the point.

  A trilling sound in the room caught his attention, and he shifted his focus to a new holoscreen opening up in front of him. Glowing letters in the hologram informed him,

  INBOUND CALL FROM EVETTE VELES. ACCEPT OR DISMISS?

  Rawn's interest perked up at this: a call from Evette Veles, of all people--the daughter of the Alpha Dragon himself, whom Joanna had just mentioned. As Evette was one of the most prominent people on Lacerta, it came as no surprise that she would be calling him now. It could only be about the upcoming gala.

  "Accept," said Rawn.

  At once, the image on the holoscreen resolved itself into the picture of a young woman in her early twenties. Rawn remembered being introduced to her back in the days of his early Knighthood, when her father was a rising Colonial Legislator.

  She was only a child then. He still saw something of that child in the stunning, young, auburn-haired woman greeting him through the transmission now. Her eyes were as green as a dragon's scales, the reddish-brown hair fell provocatively over her shoulders, and she showed exactly the amount of cleavage in her blouse to attract attention. Her smile was as warm as his bath water.

  His bath water? Rawn's eyes bulged at the realization that he was about to speak to the daughter of the ruler of the planet without having even gotten out of the bath and put something on.

  "Sir Rawn?" Evette addressed him cordially, noticing his state of undress and where he was. "Have I called at an inopportune time?"

  Rawn felt a bit like a grazer in the headlights of an oncoming hovercar, and froze in the warm water. "Ms. Veles," he said, "I apologize for not being more presentable..."

  Evette almost chuckled a bit. "Please, think nothing of it. I should have thought to voicelink first. It's good to see you again after so many years. May I call you Rawn?"

  "Yes...yes, of course, Ms. Veles. I'm at your service. How may I help you?"

  She smiled more broadly and chuckled a little louder. "You may start by calling me

  Evette the way you did before. I wanted to get in touch before the gala. You do know about it, of course..."

  "Yes, I know. I just heard Joanna's...," his voice caught a bit at the mention of the

  mediate's name, "...I just heard the announcement of it."

  "I hope you're looking forward to it," Evette said.

  "Yes, I am, very much," he replied, exerting every effort into sounding sincere.

  "Good!" Evette said. "Then, perhaps, it's not too early to ask if you're escorting anyone."

  Rawn blinked and suddenly wondered whether he had turned redder or grown more pale. Numbly, he repeated, "Escorting...?"

  "Well, yes. To be sure, you'll be wanting to attend with someone. Is there anyone yet who'll be coming with you?"

  The only thing, the only person, who entered Rawn's mind was Joanna Way, but as a member of the media covering the event, she was not an option. Bane and damn, he thought again. And aloud, he answered, "Ah, no. I hadn't asked anyone."

  "I'm sure there are those who'll be asking you," said Evette. "Which is why I hope you won't find me too forward if I ask you now. Would you like to escort me to the gala, Rawn?"

  At this point, Rawn's mind positively reeled. He was actually being asked to a gala in his honor by the ravishingly beautiful young daughter of the leader of the planet, a young woman for whose company men across the quadrant would likely kill or die. She was coming to him. What could he say?

  "I'd be very pleased to escort you to the gala, Evette," was the only answer he found

  possible and appropriate. There was nothing else to say.

  "Excellent!" Evette said, her grin turning to the most beaming smile that Rawn had ever seen on a woman. And he had put more than a few smiles on the faces of more than a few

  women in his day. "You'd best get a formal armor skin ready."

  "Yes, I will," said Rawn. "And I'll look forward to seeing you again."

  "And I'll look forward to seeing you," said Evette with a tone and a look that hinted at more than a passing interest in seeing what was under the water of Rawn's bath.

  "Until then," Rawn said.

  "Until then," Evette repeated, and the holoscreen disappeared, ending the call.

  Rawn slumped backward against the edge of the sunken tub, his face turning up to the ceiling, and gave a long, rumbling exhale. The surprise of Evette's call had softened his erection a bit, but it still nagged at him. And along with it was a measure of confusion.

  Evette Veles had grown up while he was away, the little girl becoming a young woman who was every bit a Princess, in spite of her not being actual royalty. She was beauty and grace and charm and poise and humor and intelligence, all wrapped up in one incredibly alluring auburn-haired package. And if she was as compellingly lovely as this in her human form, how much more so must she be when she morphed to dragon?

  She was everything in the universe that Rawn should want. His erection should rightly have been for her. There was only one thing that the daughter of the Alpha Dragon of Lacerta lacked, one way in which she fell short of Rawn's aroused fantasies.

  For everything that made her so desirable, she was not Joanna Way.

  Why was it that one common human female mediate should captivate him more than a dragon female of such station and breeding? Rawn did not know. But his heart--and another important part of him--seemed very much to know what they wanted.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The first of the public events on Rawn's agenda was not specifically about him, for which he was grateful, but his return had coincided with it, and he had become a major attraction. Rawn honestly wished that he was not getting so much attention at the dedication of the new wing of the Lacerta Museum of History.

  It ought to be about commemorating the crisis through which Lacerta had passed, and the brave service of the Knights and the Corps that had pulled the colony through. By rights, Rawn thought, it should be about the other Knight who was also attending as a guest of honor, and the huma
n female he had taken as a mate, whom he was diligently trying to make pregnant.

  Before the assembled citizens, members of the media, dignitaries and officials, Museum

  administration and members of the arts and humanities community, and high-ranking members of the Knighthood, both Sir Thrax Helmer and Agena Morrow gave speeches about their experience of the Scodax invasion and their respective roles--in particular Agena's actions--in saving Lacerta from the alien aggression.

  Rawn was pleased to see so much attention going to the two of them. It left him free to focus his own attention on Joanna as she recorded and commented on the proceedings. The more time he spent in the presence of Joanna Way, the more beautiful he found her. It was a quieter, more subtle beauty than that of Evette Veles. There was, Rawn thought, a softer kind of sparkle about her. She had a keener and more probing intelligence, which was entirely fitting for her profession. It made him all the more interested in "probing" Joanna herself.

  After Sir Thrax and Agena finished their speeches, it was Rawn's turn to speak. He said nothing about himself, choosing instead to praise the Knights and Corps members who had so valiantly defended Lacerta from the madness of the Scodax and to wish he returned during the invasion instead of after it; he would surely have lent every sinew of his dragon body and every spark of his dragon breath to putting the Scodax to rout, even at the cost of his own life, weakened as he was by gene blight at the time.

  Following this, there were picture opportunities for Thrax and Rawn to stand before the cameras and recorders and capture this historic meeting of heroes for posterity. The two Knights clasped hands and put their arms round one another's shoulders, and a thousand holograms were taken to spread across the quadrant.

  Once this was done, all that remained was a final dedication. A tall torch in the form of a sconce at the top of a silver post was set up in front of the entrance to the new wing. As Joanna and her fellow mediates captured the moment, Rawn stood a few meters from the torch and shifted to dragon form. He gave out a fiery breath, and a jet of flame shot forth from his mouth and arced upward through the air to land in the bowl of the sconce, igniting the fuel that it

  contained. A plume of fire burst in the torch, and the addition to the museum was officially opened.

  A tour of the new exhibit immediately followed. Rawn walked along with the rest of the invited guests and media to look at the pieces of Scodax technology on display, the weaponry and the parts of the android bodies, and remembered how it was only a short time ago when he first arrived back in orbit of Lacerta, when he knew nothing of the Scodax but saw only that a spacedock was exploding and knew only that people were in danger and he must act.

  This inevitably brought his attention back to Joanna, who had been so shocked at his appearance and held on to him so tightly as he flew her to safety. He spent more time watching her than he did viewing the exhibit, thinking all the while of how he might soon get her into his arms again for a very different reason. He cast a few knowing glances at Thrax and Agena as well, fully aware of where the two of them would surely go and what would surely be occupying their time when they got there.

  The looks that passed between the two of them were filled with the memory of hours, days, and nights of sex and the promise of more yet to come. Rawn felt a pang of envy at them as he

  contemplated the same with Joanna. He was going to have to do something about this, and soon. Between now and the gala, some opportunity must present itself. If and when it did--and Rawn would do everything to make it a "when"--he would act.

  The next thing to get through was the parade.

  Late in the afternoon, they came marching down Fafnir Boulevard, playing horns and beating drums. There were musically talented Knights and Corps members, and students from the schools and colleges of Silverwing, all in loud and colorful procession down the widest

  thoroughfare of the planetary capital. They marched proudly past the great, golden Arch of the Knighthood at the place where a side road led up a tree-lined hill leading to the Spires.

  Under the Arch, which was engraved with dragon symbols, there was a stage where Rawn stood with Dame Sienna and other high-ranking Mentors, and nearby and on the opposite side of the street were members of the media, recording away. A few select members of major media outlets stood on the stage with Rawn, among them Joanna.

  As the parade marched by, Rawn stood at the front of the stage and waved and acknowledged his admirers, and as each new group of marchers appeared, he saluted them by holding up his glowing powerblade in tribute. As much as he welcomed his people’s honors and the genuine

  affection with which they presented them, Rawn could have done without the spectacle. He had no need for it. He was a Knight. He needed a task to perform, a mission to fulfill, a quest to pursue.

  Or a female to bed. One female in particular would do most nicely. At those brief moments

  between one parade group passing by and the next one appearing, he stole glances at Joanna commenting on the proceedings and capturing his reactions to them. How much more pleasing it would be, he thought, if the two of them could be making a much more private display just for each other?

  _______________

  Joanna had already tried on the gown that she’d ordered for the gala. It fit perfectly.

  Strapless and silken, it had gold filigrees down the sides and along the hem which would fall at her ankles and would go perfectly with the white Aldebaran leather shoes she had picked out. Only upon seeing the simulation of herself wearing it when she first ordered it did it occur to her that it made her look almost like a bride. To remind Joanna that, for her, this ball was a job, a gold ribbon tied at her shoulder, to which Epaulette would attach, would complete her ensemble.

  To remind her further of how she would be spending that evening, there was the official release that had come from the Alpha Palace Media Bureau.

  She sat down on the bed next to the gown, careful not to sit on the garment itself, and said, “Epaulette, play back the press release that I bookmarked this morning.”

  The AI cast into the air the holographic transmission of Evette Veles smiling for the camera as she talked up her plans for the Welcome Ball for Sir Rawn Ullery. “I’m very much

  looking forward to it. You’ve seen the guest list for the ball, of course, and that’s exciting enough. But it’s especially exciting for me, since I’m going to have the very personal honor of being escorted by Sir Rawn himself…”

  Joanna watched and listened with a most unprofessional frown. In all her years as a

  mediate, of meeting and socializing with famous people and watching and reporting on the

  doings of celebrities, she had never felt a twinge of envy or a pang of jealousy. And she had no business feeling any such thing now, she was sure.

  In spite of the way she’d met Rawn, and in spite of having been assigned to cover his return on such an in-depth, up-close-and-personal basis, she had kept her entire approach to him, her entire relationship with him, on a strictly professional level. At every step, she had not acted as if she and Rawn were anything but a journalist and her subject. And that was the way it should be. And yet…

  There she was, this de facto Princess of a planet, enthusing in her genteel and refined way about Rawn escorting her to the ball. Joanna had no right to be in any way disturbed or ruffled about any of this. In her position, Evette Veles was accustomed to associating with men of the highest standing and station, and men of the greatest desirability. No doubt she had even been bedded by her share of them. And Rawn was a dragon Knight, accustomed—at least before his disappearance—to plentiful sex with any female he liked. It stood entirely to reason that Rawn would be escorting Evette to more than just the ball.

  The hologram of Evette went on, “I was just looking at the saved scans of the day I was introduced to Sir Rawn when I was just a little girl. Even back then, I can remember how

  wonderful I thought he was, how big and strong and kind. I thi
nk I actually told him I wanted to marry him when I grew up. It’s the kind of thing that an awestruck little girl does, you know. He was kind enough not to remind me of that.” The Alpha’s daughter gave a ladylike

  little laugh that flashed her perfect Princess smile for the camera. And Joanna felt her stomach turn to lead.

  Shaking her head, Joanna said, “Epaulette, end playback.” At once, the hologram in the air dissipated like smoke, taking away the image of Evette and the sound of her voice. Joanna, alone again in a silent bedroom in her guest quarters, gave herself a moment to take a deep breath and settle and organize her thoughts. She mentally went over the list of other guests—guests who were not Sir Rawn Ullery and Evette Veles—that she would be seeing, and the

  questions she would ask them about their memories of Sir Rawn in the days of the Chimerian conflict.