by Jen Crane
Timbra didn’t say anything. Didn’t look at me. She took a sip of her beer and stared past the pool.
I took a solidifying breath and went on, “Add to that steaming heap of bullshit the fact I learned the only reason Gresham pursued me was to control me, to acquire me as a weapon himself…well,” I took a swig of my own beer. “Not a whole lot left to build a great self image. It’s serious, all right. Seriously screwed up. I am seriously screwed up.”
“Oh, Stell,” she said, and scooted to sit at the end of my chaise. Her doe-like eyes held such compassion, such love that I struggled not to break down. “I didn’t know about Gresham. And I’m sorry that you’ve been keeping this secret for so long. That must’ve been excruciating. I wish you’d trusted me.”
“I do trust you! I do. But my god, Timbra. The significance of this whole thing. The stigma it carries with it. People hate dragons. They think we’re Satan’s spawn, and for good reason. If word got out about me—are Thayerians known for burning people at the stake? ’Cause that’s what I envision. And Gresham and Professor Lochlain advised me to guard the secret with my life, too.”
“I won’t tell a soul,” she said, then more soberly, “I know there’s not an evil drop of blood in you. This changes nothing as far as I’m concerned.”
“I don’t deserve you, Timbra.” Tears spilled over my eyelids. I swiped at them to remove the evidence.
“No you don’t,” she said with a kind smile. “But we’ve got plenty of time for you to work on that.”
* * *
“I think I’d like my sun hat. I left it upstairs. Need anything?”
Timbra had gotten very quiet. Whether she was thinking about me or Boone, I didn’t know. She shook her head but didn’t answer.
My gauzy cover whipped in the light mountain breeze as I entered the back door of the house. Damn. Forgot the key. I changed course for the front of the house, where a small enclave housed the B&B office. When I poked my head in I saw that Loryn wasn’t alone. A man stood in front of her desk in swim trunks. The wide expanse of his back was bronze, and tapered down to perfection. Loving the views here, I thought, and couldn’t stop my goofy grin before Loryn caught my eye.
“Come on in,” she said with a wave. “Stella, this is my brother.”
My heart came to a screeching halt in my chest before resuming with thunderous force. I stood stunned for several beats until comprehension dawned. My head back fell back as I laughed. Of course he was her brother. Of course. I laughed because I knew the stars were surely laughing, too.
Ewan wasn’t sure what to make of my hilarity, but he stood with a good-natured grin while I finished. “Whatcha doin here?” He looked at home in the log mansion in the mountains. Only natural. It was his home.
“Timbra and I are getting out of town for a girls’ weekend, getting away from—” The joy bled from my face. “You’re not here with Boone are you?”
“Yes, we’re headed to the pool. I left before he did so I could stop and see my sis— Stella? Where are you going?”
I ran for the pool, intent on thwarting Boone and Timbra’s undesirable reconciliation.
“It’s okay,” Ewan said as he caught up to me. “We’ve got a few minutes. He’s still upstairs.”
“Shit, shit, shit,” I said. “This is just awful, Ewan. What am I going to say to her?”
I ran over scenarios in my head. All of them ended badly: with Boone and Timbra meeting by chance and ruining the entire weekend.
Yet despite the risk we faced my heart was full, giddy even, and delighted in my circumstances. The traitorous thing was happy to see Ewan.
“Don’t worry about it,” he said and closed the space between us. “I’ll come up with a reason Boone and I must leave. We won’t ruin your stay.”
“No.” I shook my head. “We’ll go. I’m not running you out of your own home. I’ll fake sick or something.”
“Stella,” Ewan said, his tone serious, determined. “I want you to be here—to love it here. There’s no way I’ll let you leave.”
“Well,” I said, uncomfortable with the sudden weight his words had taken on. “We’re at an impasse.”
“It would seem so.” He thought for a moment, his impossibly deep brown eyes lost in concentration. “Tell you what. I’ll keep Boone busy in town this afternoon, then come up with a reason we have to leave tonight. It’ll be fine. There’s a soccer game at The Root we wanted to catch tomorrow, anyway.”
“She’ll be devastated if this doesn’t work. She can’t face him right now.”
“It’ll work,” he said. “It’s just a few more hours.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want to leave, it’s true. This place is…it’s glorious, Ewan. You said you grew up in a cabin in the woods,” I accused. “This is hardly a cabin.”
His cheeks pinked in embarrassment and his gaze shot to the floor. “This was my parents’ dream,” he said just above a whisper. “They were happy here. We were all happy here.” He cleared his throat. “I’d better get to Boone if we’re going to make this work.”
I nodded my agreement.
He raised his gaze to mine and squeezed my hand. “This will all work out. They just need more time.”
* * *
To further reduce the risk of running into the boys I drug Timbra out of the house to explore the lake. She was a swift-footed hiker—no surprise there. We enjoyed a snack of local cheeses and fresh bread near the water, and lay atop a patch of soft green moss. We passed the time in peace, gazing at the clouds.
“What do you wanna do tonight?” I ran the fine silt I’d discovered along the edge of our mossy perch through my fingers.
She answered right away. “I really think we should go out.”
“Out? Like, to a club?”
“Dancing. Definitely. I want to have a couple drinks and just forget on the dance floor for a little while. Surely there’s someplace not too far from here.”
“Out,” I shrugged. “Okay then. I’ll ask Loryn. See what she recommends.”
Timbra bit her bottom lip and grinned at the prospect of a little fun. As she stood I thought I saw the tilt of her ears perk up the tiniest fraction. “Time for our facials,” she said. “Better head back.”
Chapter 21
Loryn recommended a place in town that hosted local musicians on Saturday nights. Ewan assured me he and Boone would be long gone by then, and that we could have all the fun we could stand without fear of bumping into them.
It was clear an hour and a half into the night what Timbra’s intention was: obliteration. I didn’t blame her, really. She’d been nursing a dreadful heartache. And I knew as well as anyone the driving desire to be rid of the oppression of loss and sadness. One night of overindulgence wouldn’t hurt anything.
The band was surprisingly good, and when they played an upbeat song Timbra yanked me up by the arm. She threw her head back and her arms out wildly. “Let’s dance!” she said.
I indulged her. I had nothing against fun, after all. Timbra’s lithe body swayed and rocked to the beat, assisted by some fairly potent margaritas. Without fail, the occasion of two girls dancing together served as some unspoken invitation for horny strangers to jump on back. I shook my head sharply and shooed them away.
Timbra, though, was less forceful.
“Hey,” I warned a lanky guy whose hips seemed to move on hinges, “Were your parents octopi or something? Keep your hands to yourself!”
He smirked, mitigating any handsome that might have been found in his face. “She’s not complaining,” he said and popped Timbra soundly on the ass. “You’re the only one here with a problem.” He turned from me, dismissing me well before I was through.
“Listen, asshole,” I yelled to be heard above the music. “She’s had too much to drink to realize what you’re up to. But I haven’t. You and her,” I flicked my finger back and forth between them. “Not happening. She’s in love with someone else.”
“I’m not looking for love, d
arlin’, just a little lovin’.” He was behind Timbra, and banded one arm above her chest, the other at her hips, and pulled her tightly into his body. He stuck his nose to her hair and inhaled before lowering his mouth to the back of her neck. He stared at me with vengeful eyes as he pressed his lewd lips to her, daring me to do something about it.
I was steaming mad. At him. At his audacity. And furious with Timbra for getting herself into the situation. My hand was on its way to snatch her from his grubby tentacles when I heard a growl from the door so low and menacing it made the hair on my arms stand up. The warning was audible even over the music, and every eye in the place shot to the door.
When I saw what stood at the bar’s entrance I gasped and involuntarily stepped away, though the beast was nowhere near me.
A vicious dog the size of a sofa stood nearly to the shoulders of the people at the bar. Even in the low light I could see that its golden hair was ruffled at the neck, a clear indicator of its intent to attack. Those closest to the beast scrambled away, clearing a better line of sight. Some crazy person approached the maddened dog, and I shook my head back and forth, silently willing him not to go near it.
Surprise suffused my spine like I’d suffered an electric shock. The man approaching the beast was Ewan—which meant...the beast was Boone.
“Oh, hell,” I breathed. “Oh, no.”
The dog stalked toward us, his rumbled growls growing more ferocious with every pace of his heavy paws. When Octoman finally realized he was the one in the dog’s sights, he threw his arms away from Timbra so dramatically it was almost comical. Almost. The palpable pull of imminent danger sucked any humor from the space.
Boone’s wide snarl revealed pointed teeth the size of small daggers. My every instinct told me to run. Instead, I grabbed Timbra by the bicep and threw her behind me. I’d never been around Boone’s animal form and he looked violent as hell. I feared Timbra might bear the brunt of his fury. But he was intent on Octoman.
Mangled words escaped Boone’s slathering mouth. “Hands. Off. My. Woman.”
The dancing idiot had the nerve to smirk again. To taunt the angry beast. “She wasn’t complaining.”
Boone roared with fury, deafening those of us closest to him. It scared me. I admit it. I backed away and took Timbra with me.
Timbra, who at that point decided to clue in to her surroundings.
“Boone Adder,” she admonished. “Stop barking, for gods’ sake. This is none of your concern.”
His eyes widened with outrage before he uttered a nearly imperceptible, “You. Next.”
Ewan had positioned himself between Boone and Octoman. Not his most brilliant move, in my opinion.
“Let’s go, darlin’,” Octoman said before running his arm around Timbra’s shoulders.
I shook my head in disgust. I knew what came next. The guy was an obstinate fool. He might just deserve an ass whooping, I thought.
With a powerful thrust from his back legs, Boone launched himself toward the guy, knocking Ewan to the side.
Boone had Timbra’s suitor pinned for three seconds, snarling wetly in his face before Octoman changed—not into an octopus, as I’d imagined—but into some sort of half-crocodile, half-human combination. He used a thick armored tail to knock Boone off of his body, then bolted upright on stumpy legs.
His face, which had looked so natural in a snarl, elongated to house a fearsome row of jagged teeth. He snapped them with force, and the crowd erupted in a mass exodus from the bar. Timbra watched in awe as the two predators circled each other. Searching for a weakness. Readying to attack. I looked to Ewan to see what we could do, but he shook his head at me in a direct warning to steer clear. I was on board with that program. Getting between those two seemed a good way to lose a limb.
The snarling, grunting sounds of a fight brought my attention back to Boone and his adversary. Boone had launched himself again, breaking a pub table and one chair as they fell to the floor. They rolled on the grimy dance floor, biting and clawing at one another. Boone tried repeatedly to tear the man’s skin, but he had none. Tough armor protected him. Frustrated and enraged, but still with his wits about him, Boone faked for the croc’s neck. When he dodged to protect the area, Boone’s wide mouth clamped down on the croc’s reptilian eyes.
“Boone, stop!” Ewan roared and rushed toward them. He skidded onto his knees and followed Boone’s movements until he caught his wild gaze. “Boone, listen to me. You can’t kill this asshole. I know you want to, but you can’t.”
The beast’s big body heaved with infuriated breaths. His canines bit into the croc’s head like an evil vice and one eye began to bleed.
“Boone,” Ewan said, “Let him go. You’ve won. He’ll not touch Timbra again.”
“Gumph,” the croc grunted to the best of his ability.
Boone took the sound for argument and shook the poor man’s head like a chew toy. I heard more muffled sounds, though these were pained and hopeless, before the croc’s body went limp.
“Let him go, Boone,” Ewan pleaded once more.
The great dog widened his mouth and the croc’s scaled and bloody head dropped to the floor with a thunk.
Timbra had begun to weep silently behind me, and when she saw the man’s still body she whimpered, “Is—is he dead?”
“No,” Ewan said as he rose from the body. “But he’s lucky he’s not. Dumbass.” Then he looked to Boone. “Both of you. Dumb.” Boone snarled at Ewan, but without conviction.
I looked around the mangled bar. The fight had resulted in several broken chairs and at least two flattened tables. Glass shards scattered the floor.
“I’ll make it right,” Ewan told a leather-skinned man behind the bar. “Send notice to my dad’s house and I’ll take care of it.” The man scowled, nodded once, and turned away.
“What now?” I asked.
“Now,” Ewan said, “We go home. If you can manage Timbra, I’ll handle Boone.”
* * *
I held my head in my hands, trying in vain to be patient with Timbra. She’d been crying since we returned to our room at the B&B. She was a sniveling, self-deprecating wreck. I didn’t try too hard to make her feel better about the situation because it was, in at least some small way, her fault.
Her ears twitched seconds before a knock sounded on our door. She dried her tears with a newfound exuberance, and I suspected her sensitive ears had detected Boone outside. My suspicions were confirmed when I heard a muffled, “Timbra? I’m so sorry. Please open the door.”
I looked to Timbra, whose bottom lip quivered at the sound of his voice.
“You want me to send him away?”
“No,” she said. Then more firmly, “No. We need to work through this. Can you give us some privacy?”
I opened my mouth to protest, but she stopped me. “It’ll be fine. Really.”
“If I were you, I’d try to keep things cool,” I said with a dubious look. “Remember who’d win in a dog-on-deer fight.” She rolled her eyes. “I’ll take Pia. Just call if you need me.”
She agreed and I traced to the mossy area along the lake we’d explored earlier in the day.
* * *
I have always liked being alone. It’s the only time I ever truly relax. No pressure to be interesting, no worries about pleasing someone or protecting feelings. Being alone and outdoors was the epitome of perfection. Just me and nature. I lay back on the moss, breathed deeply of the evergreen air, and lost myself in the night sky.
Far removed from the bustling city, where light pollution was nonexistent, I could see a thousand stars. Before coming to Thayer I had studied astronomy. My coursework lent me a substantial knowledge of stars, galaxies, and their physics. But science couldn’t explain the wonder, the joy, the peace that inflated my heart whenever I studied the glorious night sky.
I read once that eighty percent of people in my world had never seen the Milky Way—couldn’t see it because of over-illumination. Streetlights, billboards, and the like allow
light to spill outward, reflecting off moisture and dust in the air to create a glow that obscured the stars—light pollution.
But somewhere along the line Thayerians had designed lights that focused illumination downward. One more reason to love my new world, I thought, as I lay on my little knoll with an uninhibited view of the galaxies.
I was happy. Relaxed. And no longer alone.
“I see you got your dog back on its leash,” I teased.
“I had to chase him down. And he bit the hell out of me. But I did it.”
I turned my head to the side to find Ewan standing beside me. He smiled down at me, his chocolate curls falling loosely around his face.
“Mind if I join you?”
“Not at all.” I was surprised at the depth of the truth in my statement. Despite the desire to be alone, I wanted Ewan Bristol’s companionship more. He lay down on his back beside me on the soft moss in companionable silence for several moments. I listened to the pleasant sound of his breathing, relished the warmth supplied by the proximity of his body.
Eventually I said, “Why did you come to the bar? You said you’d occupy him elsewhere.”
He grunted. “We were leaving the cabin after saying goodbye to my sister when the strangest look flew across Boone’s face. He darted around the room like…well, like a dog who’d picked up a scent. He knew Timbra’d been in the house.”
“Oh shit,” I gasped.
“Yep. He tracked her right up to your room. He banged so long and so loud on the door that I finally had to come clean. When I did, he insisted on joining you guys—that he could control himself, would make an effort to be friendly. I was stupid to agree to it.”
“You can say that again.”
“Hey,” he objected, but it held no bite. “We’d just walked in the door when he saw that asshole’s hands all over Timbra. He lost it. One minute he was struck dumb with pain and the next he morphed into his dog—a very pissed-off version of his dog.”
