by Skyler Grant
"I can save her. I have a way," the woman said.
"Lady. I don't know you and I've got no reason to trust you," Quinn said.
The sound of gunfire outside was growing louder and more frequent, their position being swarmed.
They urged everyone towards the door, Mara more or less carrying Tamara.
Taki was slumped against the hatch, impact marks on her armor as she returned fire against a group that was growing closer.
"You are her mate. I can smell her on you. I have my own bond with her. You have no other options but to trust me," the scaled woman said.
A group of slavers rushed them from behind a nearby building. The scaled woman rippled, her flesh warping and twisting as her limbs extended. She grew huge quickly and the form she assumed was a more familiar one.
She became the dragon.
A blast of fire caught the slavers and incinerated them.
The others were boarding the shuttle.
If this was the dragon it was probably linked to Tourmaline, and to the archive. Whatever it might want, it probably wasn't Tamara dead.
"Can you carry us?" Quinn asked.
The dragon peered at him and gave a ponderous nod of its head.
"Dela. Get the others back safe," Quinn said as he moved to take Tamara from Mara.
"You sure about this, sir?" Taki asked.
"Oh, I know it's a bad plan. It's the only one we have," Quinn said, as he climbed on top of the back of the dragon, placing Tamara in front of him where he could keep a firm grasp on her.
16
The dragon beat its wings and took off into the air. Quinn simply did his part to hold on for dear life, clamping tightly with his knees.
This was far more akin to riding a horse than flying in a shuttle, a completely different set of skills. It didn't help that he had to keep Tamara in place.
Beneath them the stolen shuttle took to the air, the fuel dump exploding as soon as it lifted and sending damaged shuttles flipping over and crashing into the nearby trees.
Quinn had flown against this dragon, he knew how fast it could go. The jungle below was moving past in a blur and without a cockpit to shelter him the wind was brutal. It had to be worse for Tamara with her wounds and lack of attire. Quinn did his best to shield her with his body.
After fifteen minutes of flying they'd returned to the lake. Instead of heading towards one of the hills the dragon dove. There was no time to ask for explanation as the water rapidly approached. Quinn could only gulp at the air and cling all the tighter as they hit.
Several seconds of disorientation they broke the surface inside a wide pool beneath a domed roof. Quinn felt flesh warping and twisting beneath him. The dragon had shifted back to its bipedal form, moving to wrap an arm around Tamara.
Quinn moved the other side to help and the dragon led them down a long corridor. It was an almost surrealistic departure from the jungle, a brightly lit hall with jazzy music playing in the background. Portraits lined the walls, all women and many quite different. One wore the garments of a pilot, hands on her hips at a cocky angle as she leaned against a rocket. Another had the look of a hardened mercenary, carrying nearly as many weapons as Kara.
"This is the archive. You are its guardian," Quinn said.
"Vessalexia, Tourmaline prefers Vess," Vess said.
"We don't want her to become Tourmaline," Quinn said.
"You mean she killed the old one and traveled halfway across the galaxy to not pursue her destiny? Don't be ridiculous, man-thing," Vess said.
Quinn came to a halt, clinging to Tamara more closely. "I'm serious."
Vess paused and huffed, "We have no time for this. The process is brutal, physically. Her body taken apart so her access might be implants. The chamber, it is made for her, to keep her alive even through what happens. To put her back together again when it is done.
Tamara believed in destiny, believed in the tides pushing them all forward along a path. Quinn had no doubt what she would say if she were conscious—that she'd been brought here and put into a position where it was death or a new future for a reason.
Quinn didn't want to be a believer. If destiny truly was a thing, it kept hurting those he loved. Vess was right about one thing though, they didn't have the time for this.
The portraits ended and so did the hall. A door hissed open at their approach.
"No male portraits," Quinn said.
Vess glanced towards them. "No, they viewed themselves as a new line."
The chamber beyond the doorway looked like nothing so much as a library. Shelves lined the walls, crammed with books, and display stands were filled with artifacts. In the center of the room was something that didn't belong, a large glass cylinder banded in brass.
The cylinder parted, opening on an invisible seam, and Vess lowered Tamara inside, motioning for Quinn to step back.
The cylinder sealed, and green fluid bubbled up from the floor of the tube and quickly filled it. The bookcases parted and the tube vanished from sight behind them.
"Is she ...?" Quinn asked.
"The process takes some time. Have a seat. There is alcohol of many types. There was food, once, but it has spoiled. As a mate you are welcomed and I will try to answer any questions, if I can," Vess said.
It was a strange situation. A dragon was offering him booze. A naked dragon, at that. Aliens tended to go between the very strange and the nearly human. The dragon persona might be very strange, but this form was another matter.
"Beer?" Quinn asked as he took a seat.
Vess moved towards a panel that slide aside and she secured two bottles, handing one over and keeping one for herself.
"It’s swill, Vandria pale. Twenty-four loved the stuff and filled the freezer," Vess said with a grimace as she took a swig. "Only break it out for a transfer."
"So do you actually care what happens to Tamara? Tourmaline was on a mission to kill her and her whole line," Quinn said.
"They viewed themselves as a new line and always felt the need to prove themselves better than what had come before. Guess they weren't," Vess said, taking another swig of her beer.
"How did it happen?" Quinn asked.
"My fault. I missed her. She survives, we're going to have to figure some stuff out, you and I. When the line was long dead and someone crash-landed here, I took the opportunity and shoved him in," Vess said.
"I thought the genetics and the implants mattered?"
"Oh, they do. The process drove him completely mad. Still, a bit of what made Tourmaline extraordinary came through." Vess shrugged.
"Just so we're clear on things. If I'm understanding you right, you're an immortal shape-shifting dragon," Quinn said.
"That's me. Totally wrong on almost every point there, but close enough," Vess said. "And you're the mate of a first. That is rare, they don't usually bond until after. Too busy fighting each other. How did you two meet?"
"Because she brought a lot of trouble to my ship and stuck around. So you stay here? On this world? Why?"
"Isn't safe for me to leave it. Things are bad for my kind out there, a nasty plague that hits us hard. Tourmaline was good to me, good to my people. Helped us to hide our world, keep it safe," Vess said.
In the process she also kept secret her archive. A good deed? A selfish one? Both at the same time? Quinn wished he knew.
There were too many unanswered questions. Yet, Quinn had some reason for hope. Vess seemed quite capable of taking him in a fight with her ability to form-shift. The fact that she hadn't meant she thought the woman who came out of that tube would still care for him. He'd had the fear that Tourmaline really would simply overwrite Tamara if this happened, but Vess’s behavior was suggesting that wouldn't be the case.
"Do you have supplies here? Our ship crashed and is badly damaged," Quinn said.
"Fabricators, but not much in storage apart from some simple luxuries. You can create more food, clothes, the basics needed for a fresh start. Sometimes firsts have been q
uite desperate when they found this place," Vess said.
"So clothes aren't a concept that totally escapes you," Quinn said.
Vess rolled her eyes. "Are they back in fashion? I don't care, regardless. My home world, my rules and I choose to go without them. You may keep yours on though, I tolerate a bit of rudeness."
Well, that had come right back around to bite him.
Quinn dryly said, "Thank you. Fabricators will be helpful. I'd hoped there would be a hangar here of some kind."
"I tried to convince her to add one. The lake is so inconvenient as an entry point and if something happened to me I don't know how the next would find their way."
"I know this place is shielded, but is there any way I can get an outside comm-line? I'd like to check on my crew and make certain they're okay."
"Those people who captured us. Who are they?" Vess asked.
"Slavers, not friends of ours. We'd freed a number of their victims, but accidentally brought their ship here along with our own. I'm afraid we brought a problem to your world," Quinn said.
"Are there mages among them?" Vess asked as she got up and moved over to a section of wall. A pass of her hand slid it aside and she tapped at several clunky keys.
"Lot of guns and mean people, but none of those," Quinn said.
"Then they won't be a problem for long. You should be able to contact your ship now," Vess said.
Quinn tapped his wristcomm. "This is Quinn. We got Tamara to safety and ... trying to stay hopeful. Status?"
"We got back to the ship, but patrols are trying to find us. I'm doing what I can," Mara said.
17
Quinn made awkward conversation for a few more hours with Vess and had a lot more beer that wasn't nearly as bad as the dragon claimed.
Being as short of sleep as he was it was no surprise that he nodded off on one of the sitting room couches. When he awoke it was to the sensation of his pants being tugged down. Tamara was already straddling him with an almost ravenous look on her face.
"You're okay," Quinn said.
"Healed up and just full of hormones, sexy. Get those pants off and take this," Tamara said, pressing a pill into his hand. "Kara isn't here and I want you really ready to go."
"Maybe we should do a little bit of talking first, when you’ve just come fresh out of a mind-rewriting machine," Quinn said.
Tamara gave him an exasperated look and finished tugging down his pants. A long admiring moment was spent looking downward and then she finally glanced back up to his eyes. "I'm your wife, Quinn. Jinx, Taki, the Centauri, the problems I had getting you to clean out those fucking closets. I'm me. Take your pill and fuck me."
Quinn could have argued but he didn't want to, not really. Tamara had very nearly died and he was all too well aware of it. The pill went down with a gulp. It was hardly necessary, at least for this first round. He was already hard and she was wasting no time, shifting her body up and almost slamming herself down upon his length.
"You're feeling better," Vess said, the dragon stirred awake by the noise and her eyes flickering open. She was slumped in one of the chairs.
"A head just full of new memories and a body aching to go," Tamara said, her hips already beginning to roll. "But be a help, lazybones. Get him undressed will you?"
This was getting strange in a hurry. Quinn was far from surprised by groups since the Centauri had started sharing a bed, but an audience that wasn't a member of the family was something new. Exciting, but new.
It required a fair bit of awkward shifting while in the middle of sex, Vess tugging off his boots and trousers, and then having to get between them a bit to free him of his shirt.
"This is all a little ..." Quinn said.
"Weird to you, I know. Deal with it and enjoy the ride. Flatter me, what is the sexiest part of me?" Tamara said.
Quinn was already having a hard time thinking straight, his skin growing flushed and his breath coming unsteadily. He let his eyes drift over Tamara and she was as physically perfect as the first time he'd seen her.
"Your lips, you have the most perfect pair of lips I've ever seen. I sometimes get lost just in watching you talk, wanting to kiss them," Quinn said.
Tamara smiled broadly at that and she leaned forward to press a kiss to his lips, a long and hungered contact that persisted even as their bodies each began to buckle. Her moan into the kiss was a loud one, teeth grazing against his lower lip until the last tremor had stilled in her form.
"I really needed that," Tamara said breathlessly.
"Tamara doesn't moan like that. Tamara doesn't curse like that," Quinn said, struggling for breath.
Tamara looked annoyed and pulled herself off of him. "Fuck, Quinn. Not every apple is poisoned. Stop looking for the god-damned turn."
Well, getting yelled at felt real enough even if it wasn't the way Tamara would usually do it.
"You can't blame him," Vess said.
"He's always like this. It's irritating as hell. Well, if you weren't suspicious before, this next bit is sure going to get you there. I want you and Vess to have the next go," Tamara said, as she stalked towards the wall. A panel slid away and she grabbed a bottle filled with a dark blue alcohol.
"Some of us have standards," Vess huffed.
"He's decent marriage material. You'll like him," Tamara said, taking a swig from the bottle and making a face. "Wow, that doesn't work with these taste buds."
"Trying to get me to crawl into bed with and get married to a near stranger is just about the only normal thing you've done since coming out of that tube," Quinn said.
“Vess is married to Tourmaline. Quinn, you’re married to Tamara, and I'm kind of both, so really you two are already a little married and you can seal the deal if you just crawl into bed," Tamara said, sauntering over to a chair, still clutching the bottle. "Oh, and we have to move the archive. Vess swore an oath to defend it, so obviously she comes along too.”
"You know I can't leave the planet," Vess said.
"We've got an order mage. Join our family and you can go wherever the fuck you want with no dissolution. Just like the old days," Tamara said.
"He can't even fly," Vess objected.
"This is the pilot of the shuttle that gave you so much trouble," Tamara said.
Vess gave Quinn a long hard look that for the first time was speculative. "He's good."
"Why am I involved at all?" Quinn said.
Tamara lounged back in the chair with a leg stretched before her. The body language was casual, confidant, and nothing like her usual. "Because I do have standards. Quinn, listen, you're doubting this a dozen different ways, I get that. It pisses me the fuck off, but I get it. We don't have time for it. Dinner table moment all over again. You're my husband and hers, and together we murder a lot of slavers, protect our family and get off this rock—or else you're just in the way."
Quinn wished he hadn't taken that pill. It was hard to think when this turned on, and he was very turned on. A glance at either Tamara or Vess was enough to get his mind spinning in a dozen different directions he didn't need right now.
Tamara didn't talk like Tamara, or act like Tamara, although clearly had her memories as well as those of Tourmaline. Tamara had been convinced that because of her physiology, and her mind being biologically hers, her personality would override Tourmaline’s, and while she would get Tourmaline’s memories, she would still be herself. That clearly hadn't happened.
Really, it boiled down to two possible outcomes. The first was that she was simply wrong. This was a combined version of the two women and Tamara was the weaker of the two halves. His wife was in there somewhere, and perhaps in time she might come out more, but for now this might just be what he and their family had to deal with. The motives that had driven Tamara still would exist.
The second possibility was that this wasn't Tamara at all. Tourmaline had come out of the tube, been able to access Tamara's memories, and didn’t feel bound by any of Tamara’s obligations. He was witnessing a c
lever charade.
If the first possibility was true, he owed her his trust, and this marriage thing with Vess was suggested with the best of intentions—and otherwise pushing Tamara away while she was still figuring out who she was would likely be devastating.
If the second possibility was true he was sitting across from a ruthless, immortal creature pretending to be his wife. Getting in her way at this point wasn't the best thing to help his family. Tourmaline might kill him dead without remorse.
Quinn said, "I don't know much about dragon marriage rituals. But in ours we usually tell the one we're seeking to admit into our family why we need them. I love that woman sitting over there, more than I thought I ever would, but already in some ways she's a stranger to me. Perhaps you're a piece to connect us. You're strong, and fast, and one hell of a flyer, and I need all the help I can get to keep my family safe."
Tamara smiled at that and for a moment it almost seemed a little sad. "I've known you a long time, Vess, yet in a way it has been over different lifetimes. Quinn here is a hero, beneath the rough exterior. You've never been happy trapped here, let’s take names and kick ass."
Vess reached out to stroke Quinn's face, her fingers terminating in talons. "We shall guard each other’s wings, defend our hoards, and fly until night falls."
The words complete, Vess was already moving to straddle him, talons scraping across his chest as she impaled herself on his shaft.
Quinn let himself look at her more than he had until now. Most of her flesh was bronze flecked with grey, beaded with tiny bumps except for a line of scales that extended down her entire body from her ears down to her feet. Vess had a small chest with zero in the way of jiggle, all lean muscle and firm lines, and eyes that were perfectly black.
There was little warmth to her flesh, her skin cool and dry even inside. Quinn was glad he hadn't had the chance to clean up from earlier. Without the mess he and Tamara had made friction might have quickly become a problem.
