by Tanya Huff
A Dragon Lord sketching air quotes back at her was fairly close to being entirely too weird.
“And the little bad is?”
“Not commanding us, that much I will tell you. The rest, Gale girl, is as I said, a family matter.”
Whatever the family matter was, it was important enough for them to agree to ignore an enemy-Stanley Kalynchuk-in order to deal with it. Allie frowned. If Kalynchuk was the one thing the Dragon Lords agreed on and their enmity was also a family matter…
The same family matter?
“I can almost smell you thinking.” The hiss moved toward a growl. “Do not be too clever, Alysha Gale.”
Auntie Elsa liked to use that warning. And that tone.
“Tell the sorcerer what I have told you. He will live a little longer if he continues to cower. Or tell the man you have borrowed from him and have him pass on the word. But for now,” he added before she could take issue with the word borrowed, “shall we deal with the actual reason for my visit?” And once again, he became more Lord than Dragon. “I am here to discover exactly why you got my attention so charmingly last night.”
“Last night?” Right. Before Graham. Chalk on pavement. Ebony and gold. Charmingly? Right. “I wanted to ask you to stop burning buildings down.”
“Why?”
“Why did I want to ask you or why did I want you to stop burning buildings down?”
“Yes.” His smile was wicked. Behind her, Charlie murmured, “Holy fuck,” and Allie had to agree. The longer she remained in close proximity, the stronger the attraction. Still managing not to hump his leg, though.
Drawing her tongue over dry lips, she tried not to notice that his eyes followed the movement. “I live here-that’s why I wanted to ask you. Whatever you think you’re doing, in the end it’s nothing more than mindless destruction. Okay, maybe not mindless,” she corrected when his brows lifted, “but it’s petty.”
“Did you just call me petty?”
“No.” The air around him smelled slightly singed. “I’m calling your actions petty.”
“Petty seems a bit…”
Stupid? Allie’s brain supplied during the pause.
“… harsh.” He twitched the other cuff into place. “But you’re right; we had no reason for the destruction. We were bored and spreading fire only to see if we could flush the coward from his den. My apologies if we destroyed property your family claims.”
“You didn’t.”
“Then I take back my apology. Particularly as our efforts had such unexpectedly pleasant results. I must say, I’m well on the way to being no longer bored.” He shifted his weight back on his heels. Allie braced herself, but he only folded his arms. “Now tell me, Alysha Gale, why we should we stop burning this city-which is not yet yours-just because you ask?”
“Because I ask.”
“That’s it?”
She thought about it for a moment. “Yes, that’s it.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
Adam leaned closer, and his nostrils flared. Holding her ground with everything she had, Allie saw a flash of gold in his eyes. “It’s like that,” he said thoughtfully. “Very well. Although not all my brothers are likely to listen to me.”
She let out a long breath as he leaned away again and managed a fairly steady, “Family.”
“Indeed. And speaking of family…” Adam’s nostrils flared again as he looked past her, at Charlie. “I smell the wild lands on this one.You’ll never quite tame her.”
Allie turned and grinned at Charlie’s affronted expression. “I’ll never quite want to.”
“Wise. Well, I think we have reached the end of the second measure. I thank you for the dance.” He was at the door before she saw him move. A glance at Charlie’s face reassured her she wasn’t the only one taken by surprise. “Stay out of this, Alysha Gale. The man is not worth your family and mine coming to blows. Although…” This smile was almost speculative. “… I would like a chance to watch you burn.”
He opened the door, devolved into a flash of ebony and gold and a wind that flipped a passing SUV onto its side where it lay with horn honking and wheels turning, intermittently visible through the steam rising off the wet sidewalk.
Graham woke alone in an unfamiliar bed, but the sheets beside him retained enough warmth he assumed he’d had company until recently. He felt slightly divorced from his body, like his thoughts were isolated in a bubble in his head-the lingering effects of some serious painkillers. He remembered the Dragon Lords, the hospital, and his last clear memory involved arguing with Allie’s assumption that her home was safer than his.
Evidence suggested he’d lost the argument by losing consciousness. Or, given all the red paint and draped velvet he could just barely make out in the diffuse light coming through lace-covered French doors, Allie’d split the difference and rented the bordello room at a fantasy suites hotel.
One of the doors had been left open about ten centimeters. He held his breath, and listened. Paper rustling-quietly, so as not to wake him. The faint smell of toast and coffee. Allie. Probably reading the newspaper while waiting for him to wake up and call out.
Lying back and letting a beautiful woman take care of him was a significantly more attractive proposition than admitting he’d made a stupid, rookie mistake and let his heart rule his head, but unless he wanted to hide out here for the rest of his natural life, it would be best to get it over with. The longer his boss spent waiting for the details, the worse the debrief would be.
He wasn’t wearing his watch-he wasn’t wearing anything but yesterday’s boxers and a torso wrap. Movement reminded him of why. Cracked ribs came with distinct pain wrapped around every breath. Experience reminded him that sitting up would a bad idea, so he rolled to the edge of the mattress-not a great idea in and of itself-and let gravity take his feet to the floor. With his legs spread for stability, he used the bed to haul himself erect.
Some of his clothes had been tossed onto an ancient overstuffed red velvet chair. No sign of his weapons, but his watch and phone were on the corner of the dresser. He slid the former on and powered up the latter. Ten forty-three. No signal.
Not likely.
But it raised the odds that he was in Allie’s apartment. He’d never been able to get a signal in the store although he’d seen both Allie and her grandmother use their phones.
Teeth clenched, he dragged on his jeans. His T-shirt and sweater were missing, so he shrugged his shirt on over the bandages and, after getting it more or less buttoned, settled his jacket over that. Socks might just kill him, so he shoved bare feet into his boots, then held his breath and sweated as he tied them off tightly enough to support the swelling.
“There’s impact damage to your ankles, your right knee’s swollen but functional…”
Allie’s voice in memory, listing his injuries.
He wouldn’t be dancing out of here, but hobbling out beat the alternative.
Ten fifty-four.
Not bad, all things considered.
Right arm tucked tight against his body, he pushed open the nearer door and stepped into what seemed to be living room, dining room, and kitchen combined. The area looked more like a loft conversion than a historic property. Rain spattered against the windows, reflected light making the day look grim and unappealing. A brown-haired man in a striped sweater vest sat with his back to him at an enormous table covered in papers.
When he stumbled over a duffel bag and clutched at the back of the nearer sofa to keep from slamming to the floor, the man turned. Looked surprised to see him.
“What are you doing out of bed?”
Ah. Not surprised to see him. Surprised to see him up.
Sweater Vest stood, frowning. “Seriously, you’re lucky to be alive. Dragon Lords aren’t known for their restraint. I’m amazed you came out of the experience with nothing worse than a couple of cracked ribs.”
“And a punctured lung.”
“You have a punctured lun
g?”
“Had. Allie fixed it.” The expression on Sweater Vest’s face spoke volumes. “Guess she didn’t mention that.”
“She said she took you to the hospital.”
“Yeah, after.” After he’d lost consciousness. “Where is she?”
“She’s uh…” Sweater Vest glanced down at his hands and up again. “… busy.”
She had a life. She had a business. She had her nose stuck into things that didn’t concern her. But, that said, there was a whole lot of subtext Graham didn’t like in that word. He doubted she was in the bathroom. “Busy?”
“I’m her cousin,” Sweater Vest continued. “Roland.”
“The lawyer?”
“That’s right.”
“Well, okay, Roland…” Who clearly had no intention of telling him what Allie was busy doing. “… tell her thanks for getting me patched up, that I’m sorry I missed her, and I’ll call. Right now,” he added, shuffling along the back of the sofa as he moved at his fastest pace toward the door. “I have things I have to do.”
Roland cut him off. But, in all fairness, since his right knee looked like a rotting melon, his fastest pace was shit.
“Get out of my way.”
“Sorry.” And damn if Roland didn’t fold his arms. “But Allie doesn’t want you to leave.”
“And I appreciate that she’s probably worried, but…” The guy didn’t look like much-like most lawyers, he probably spent most of his time at a desk-but he couldn’t be moved. Graham shoved a little harder. Roland lowered his head, kind of tucked it between his shoulders, and rocked in place. “Get the fuck out of my way.”
“You’re already injured. I don’t want to fight you.” A bit of his steel in his voice, and something else. Frustration, maybe.
“Good. Because I don’t intend to fight you.” Graham took most of his weight on his left leg, shifted, and threw himself over the back of the sofa. Rolled. Came up fast but careful, protecting his injured side, left foot back on the floor first. Took two steps toward the door and found himself facing the immovable object again.
Damn if Roland didn’t have some unexpected moves under the sweater vest. But so did he. His left arm still worked. Get him in close enough. Elbow to the side of the head. Make it to the door while he was down. Except Roland wouldn’t move in close enough. Like he knew.
“How much do you actually know about our family?”
Hello, non sequitur. “What?”
“Seriously, if you’re involved with Allie, there are things you should know.”
“Involved?”
He shrugged. “I’m not married to the word. What would you call it?”
Bewitched? Bothered? Bewildered? Even to his own ears his laugh sounded off, and Graham glanced up in time to see the flash of sympathy in Roland’s eyes. Fuck that, he wasn’t going there with her cousin. “Involved will do.” He sighed. “All right, I take your quiz and I get the hell out of here. The women in your family are dangerous in groups-and they get more dangerous as they get older. The men… Well, there aren’t as many of you, and you’ve clearly got hidden depths.”
“We choose.”
“What?”
“We choose.”
“Yeah, I heard you. What do you choose.”
This had to be the first time he’d seen a lawyer blush. “Sorry. The women. We choose the women.”
“For what?”
The blush deepened.
“Oh. Well, good for you. What happens if they don’t like your choice?”
“That never happens.”
“Never?”
Roland shook his head-looking a little smug, the bastard. “The aunties keep the lines from getting too close and…”
Graham cut him off with a raised hand. “Way more about your family than I need to know. Seriously. I’ll just finish up my Gale family 101 and book it, shall I? The whole family’s pretty much unable to cope with anyone else having power. And when I say, unable to cope, I mean viciously unable.”
“Not having. Holding.”
“Yeah, whatever. Potato, potahto.” Interesting he wasn’t arguing about the vicious part. “Thanks for playing, I’ll see myself out.”
Roland sighed. “Allie doesn’t want you to leave.”
“Look, Allie…” And then the lightbulb went off. “You do what the women tell you.”
“No. Yes. If we haven’t chosen.” He rubbed at the faint scar along the edge of his jaw. “It’s complicated.”
“Seems simple enough to me.”
“Why did you take that shot last night?” When Graham didn’t answer immediately, he spread his hands. “Complicated.”
Fucking Christ, he couldn’t believe this was happening. “I’m not getting past you, am I?”
“In your condition, no. If you were healthy…”
“I’d knock you on your ass.”
“Maybe.”
The bastard’s smile had turned distinctly speculative.
His boss knew he was alive-the glyphs provided basic information that couldn’t be shut off-and he probably had a damned good idea of where he was given that the only other place in the city able to isolate him so completely was inside Catherine Gale’s wards. Not that it mattered since Stanley Kalynchuk would not ride to the rescue of the man he paid to rescue him-for a broad definition of rescue. His boss believed in a distinct adherence to job descriptions. And that was ignoring the certainty that if he left the office, he was dragon chow. If he was lucky. “How long is Allie going to be busy?”
“Hard to say. There’s a Dragon Lord in the store.”
Graham glanced down. He couldn’t stop himself. The floor remained opaque. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“It’s not what you think.”
“You don’t know what I think.”
“You’re concerned about the possibility of Allie making a deal with your employer’s enemy. Perhaps agreeing to turn your employer over to them. She isn’t. She just wants them to stop burning the city down while they’re waiting for the inevitable confrontation. That was what she intended to speak to them about last night, but you interrupted. I don’t know why he’s here, but I do know that’s what she’s telling him.”
“She’s dictating terms to a Dragon Lord?” Why not? She’d clearly dealt with both Dragon Lords out on the street last night, armed with a piece of sidewalk chalk, his dumbass heroics unnecessary. He rubbed his temples. “Meds?”
Roland shook his head as he walked over to the table and picked up a prescription bottle of pills. “You shouldn’t be up and walking around.”
“That’s not what gave me the headache,” Graham muttered. He thought about making a run for the door but figured he’d had enough futility for one morning.
“You’re supposed take these with food.You want some breakfast?”
“I want to get out of here.”
“How about some toast?”
“I don’t want any fucking t…”
“What?”
“Nothing.” How hard had he hit his head? As Allie’s cousin passed the mirror over the sink, Graham could have sworn he’d caught a glimpse of antlers branching out above his reflection.
“He’d like a chance to watch you burn?”
“I think it was a compliment. Man, those pigeons are never going to come out from under that newspaper box.”
“Allie…”
“I mean dragons flying over are one thing-but a Dragon Lord landing, that’s something else again. I wonder what the people who saw him are telling themselves? Denial, right; more than just a river in Egypt. And those marks on the outside of the door? He could have made them, couldn’t he? Spacing seems right although I have to admit, I wasn’t exactly measuring his claws last night. Or if not him, one of his brothers.”
“Allie!”
She turned away from the window and the lights and sirens and the guy from the tipped SUV screaming at someone to see that Charlie hadn’t moved from her place behind the counter. And was frownin
g somewhat egregiously.
“Allie, what the hell is going on?”
Allie frowned back at her. Charlie wasn’t usually this dense. “Whatever’s coming through, the Dragon Lords consider it a family matter and are here to attend to it.”
“No shit, I got that part.”
“And Kal… the sorcerer…” Sorcerers weren’t named. She knew better than that. Adam must have left her more distracted than she’d thought. “… he’s a part of it. I mean, more than just ‘this is an enemy of his’ part of it. He’s part of the whole family matter that Adam wants us to stay out of. Graham’s involved as long as he works for him, and I don’t think I can get him to quit in the next couple of days unless I change his mind for him.”
Charlie’s eyes narrowed. “So change it.”
“No.” She wouldn’t for Michael. She wouldn’t for Graham.
“That’s what I thought.” Charlie sighed and rubbed at a red welt across her palm, probably made by that case she’d been holding so tightly while Adam was in the store. “You barely reacted when Adam touched you, and I bet the sorcerer barely got your panties damp. Which leads me back to my original question: what the hell is going on here?”
“With me and Graham?”
“He’s got the family involved with a sorcerer and a dozen Dragon Lords, so yeah, with you and Graham.”
Allie moved away from the front of the store, in behind the first set of shelves. She picked at a tangle of power cords, poked a finger into a bowl of lanyards, and finally said, “I don’t know.”
“Well, does anyone? Because I’m willing to ask around.”
“Charlie…”
“Twelve Dragon Lords, Allie.” She slapped her hand down on the counter. Allie jumped. “All twelve of them right here in River City with a capital D that rhymes with T that stands for fucked. Plus a sorcerer. Who you’re hiding from the Dragon Lords. And something dangerous coming through from the UnderRealm.”
