by Emma Alisyn
“You look green,” he said, not very sympathetically. Anger simmered that she’d gone and made some other male more important than him but he reminded himself, what was done was done.
“I think I have that morning sickness stuff human women get. The school nurse—”
“You talked to the school nurse?” His shoulders tightened. “I don’t want you talking to any medical professionals, especially not humans, without me present. I am your guardian.”
He’d spent the night scouring the internet, and what it told him was not reassuring. Evidently, she would be able to go through this entire process without him, because laws did not require minor females to get permission for anything from the males who clothed, fed, housed, and protected them.
“Dad? You look a little red?”
He inhaled, throttled the flame in his chest, and managed a smile with normal teeth. “The young warlock and his mother will be coming over after school today. She wants a family meeting to discuss the situation.”
Kayla’s eyes widened. “Josh didn’t say anything. When did you meet her?”
Donato frowned. “She is not married.”
“Well, no, he said his parents were divorced.”
“Just be home on time. I want the family room cleaned up before people come over and think we live like slobs.”
She pushed the bowl of oatmeal away, rolling her eyes and picking up her backpack. “Mmkay. See you later.”
“You need to eat something,” he yelled after her.
“I’ll just barf it up,” she yelled back as the door slammed shut.
Damn teenagers.
Donato picked up his cell and dialed the high school, asking to speak with the principle. Normally he didn’t make a big deal out of the fact that he sat on the city council, but he would make sure no one met with Kayla regarding her condition without his knowledge. She was his.
“Remember to be polite, no matter what he says,” Jezamine reminded Joshua for the third time. “He will naturally have a lot of questions, and might even behave aggressively. Dragons are very territorial. Just . . . don’t accept any challenges.”
“I know, Mom. Kayla already gave me a run down in dragon manners.”
Jezamine stifled a grimace. She didn’t know exactly what information one teenager could disseminate to another that would not end in disaster, but she would have faith the girl was sensible.
“I’m so excited to meet her,” she said, striving for a pleasant tone. “I’m sure she’s a lovely girl.” And not the aloof socialite she appeared to be on television. A Pyrex dish of cinnamon rolls sat in the back seat, oozing with cinnamon and covered in cream cheese icing along with crumbled bits of bacon. Dragons liked sweets like everyone else, right? She imagined shoving a roll into Donato’s mouth each time he started to say something impolite. The daydream kept her silent until they pulled up the driveway and exited the car.
This time she didn’t have to knock. Joshua had been texting the entire time, and the front door opened, a tall young female rushing out. Slender, dark hair streaming down her back, a smattering of freckles on a tanned face. A pretty girl, and wholesome looking. Relief bloomed in Jezamine’s chest. The girl was as cute in person as she was on television. She’d been so afraid her son had fallen for a spoiled rich diva. But this girl looked like a good, athletic, well-adjusted teenage girl on the verge of adulthood.
“Claws off,” a male voice growled as Kayla threw her arms around Joshua’s neck. Donato appeared, glaring daggers at her son.
Jezamine stiffened and marched past the couple, inserting herself in the male’s line of vision with a polite smile. She thrust the glass dish towards his chest. “Good afternoon. I made cinnamon rolls.”
He sniffed, paused, and took a longer, deeper breath. The jewel under his shirt flared to life, echoing the sudden slitting of his pupils and the male took a step forward. “You bake.”
She knew better than to step backwards. One never ran from a predator, and besides, she was a witch. A Hearn witch. Hearns never ran.
Well, except . . . but that didn’t really count.
“Yes, I enjoy baking,” she said.
“So do I. We don’t eat out more than three times a year.”
A teenage, feminine snort came from behind her. “He thinks that’s a good thing. I swear he thinks he’s Mr. Martha.”
Donato drew himself up to his full height, turning a baleful eye on the girl as she sidled past her father, an arm slung around Joshua. Dragging Joshua with draconic strength because her son was making a valiant effort to dig his heels in without actually looking like he was being dragged along by a girl.
“Uh, Kayla,” Joshua said. “Maybe you should introduce me to your Dad first?”
Donato’s expression soured and he crossed his arms, though his body remained angled towards Jezamine. She barely heard the introductions, the dizzying pull of the spell enrobing the jewel trapping her attention. His dizzying pull.
So familiar . . . it would drive her mad. If her hands hadn’t been full of a glass dish of rolls, she would have reached out. Her arms actually moved, and Donato's head snapped towards her. He took the dish as it began to sag and she blinked, chagrined because if not for his quick move, it would have shattered to the ground and made a mess. And been an embarrassing waste of perfectly good organic flour that cost over five dollars a pound.
“I—” she shook her head. “The spell. What is it? It’s affecting me.”
Kayla stopped chattering at her father and swiveled towards Jezamine, eyes widening. “Oh, shit. I didn’t even notice. Dad, the jewel is—”
“I know.” Donato stepped inside the house and opened the door, indicating they should enter. Jezamine wondered at the warning glance he gave Kayla, and determined to get to the bottom of the issue. At the very least, she would contact the Witch member of council. If a drake was under a potentially mind altering enchantment, that was a danger to all of them.
She let her son enter first, then passed by Donato, the hairs on her arms rising with electric energy as she brushed against him. Was it her imagination, had he shifted forward slightly so that she would brush against him?
“We need to talk,” he said quietly, so only she could hear. “There is a lot to talk about.”
“She’s inside?” Leandros asked.
He’d recognized the pattern of wind from the rush of wings as his brother landed, and had left his females and the young warlock sitting in the kitchen to intercept.
“Yes,” Donato said. “And the warlock.”
Leandros’ mouth pursed. “You aren’t going to eat him, are you?”
“That’s ridiculous. I haven’t done that in centuries. I’m not going to start with the sperm donor of my grand-dragonling.”
“Father, Donato. Saaaaay it. Faaaaaather. Not sperm donor.”
Donato snarled. “He had no right.” His hands curled into fists, talons pricking his palms. “If he were a drake—”
“But he isn’t. He’s a young male who apparently is trying to do the right thing.” Leandros attempted to peer over Donato’s shoulder to look through the French doors and into the kitchen. “Sure you don’t want me to come in?”
Donato inhaled, struggling with his temper, exacerbated by his desire for the witch sitting in his house, and shoved his glasses back up his nose. “No. I’m on edge. Another male around her will send me over the tipping point.”
Leandros’ expression altered, and for a moment awe tinged his features. He knew Donato wasn’t referring to Kayla. “But at least we know that they work. There’s hope.”
“There was always hope. You young ones are impatient. There was a time when a drake wouldn’t even think of mating before his second century.”
Leandros grimaced, and stepped back, beginning his shift. “Welcome to the modern world, brother. We don’t have to battle to the death to claim our mates anymore.”
7
Donato wasn’t so sure about that. Eyeing the female—Jezamine�
�as he re-entered the kitchen, he determined that she was primed to spill blood before their whole situation was well in hand. She all but hissed at him when he so much as glanced at her son. His witch blood allowed him to imagine little floating hexes primed and ready to attach to him if he said the wrong thing.
He would have to throttle his temper. Not only would he have Kayla to deal with if he ate the boy, but he doubted Jezamine would accept him as a mate if he made a roast out of her only child first.
He regretted the good old days. Females didn’t used to be so unreasonable.
Donato busied himself serving cinnamon rolls on little white ceramic plates and pouring glasses of raw cow’s milk. It gave him time to settle his nerves, so he could face her and control the urge to lunge, snatch her up, and carry her to his cave. When Donato realized his thoughts were full of Jezamine, and he wasn’t paying the least bit of attention to Kayla, he growled.
“Is something wrong?” Jezamine asked, a smile fixed on her face when he turned to face her.
Her eyes were bright, dark pools of maternal threat. She probably thought her expression was pleasant. Friendly, even.
He snorted. “You need to practice in the mirror more.”
“Excuse me?”
“The fake happy face. It isn’t very convincing. I can tell you want to skewer me over an open flame.”
The warlock coughed, and Kayla pounded his back. “You okay?”
“Yeah, yeah,” the boy said. “Didn’t chew all the way.”
“Chewing is important,” Donato said.
“I’m sure you’re mistaken,” Jezamine said. “I have no desire to skewer anyone. We are very happy to be in your home, aren’t we, Joshua?”
“Um. Yeah. Ecstatic. Nice place. When Kayla and I move in together, we’ll take decorating notes.”
Donato’s hackles rose even as Jezamine whirled towards her son, the air around her crackling. “Dear? Move in?” Her attempt at laughter was pathetic. “You’re both just children. That’s a big step.”
“We’re having a baby,” Kayla said. “I’ll be eighteen soon.”
His hands wrapped around the countertop ledge, and he watched in a haze as a hairline crack appeared in the marble. He’d have to buy an entire slab to replace it.
“Let’s start with basics,” Jezamine was saying. “Like choosing a midwife. The local coven—”
“Over every one of your dead bodies,” Donato said, “will a witch deliver a dragonling.”
“The baby will be half witch.”
Donato locked eyes with his mate when she turned to face him again. The set of her shoulders warned him that her obdurate streak ran deep. And, unfortunately, he could not speed up the courtship to enable other means of keeping her distracted and in control, so she would allow him to handle everything.
“Dracaena give birth in the caves, alone, and guard their infants with claw and flame for six weeks until it is time to emerge.”
Jezamine’s eyes widened in horror. “In a cave? I don’t recall that part of interspecies studies.”
“I highly doubt dragon reproduction was covered in your homeschool curriculum.” Her eyes went flat. He couldn’t blame her. Even he had heard the sneer in his voice. He added, “That is not, however, your fault.”
“Let me check my understanding.”
Donato struggled to suppress a wince. He should be better at communication than this. Though his property and business in his homeland more or less ran with minimal interference from himself, the result of decades of hard work to make it so, he still knew better than to insult a female’s intelligence, no matter how unintentionally.
“Despite the fact that Kayla is half-human and seventeen,” Jezamine said. “You believe the appropriate method for her to give birth to a child who may—dragonlings are not hatched, from what I understand—be in human form when born, is alone, and in a cave. Miles away from medical care, little things like electricity . . . .”
“It’s how we have always done things. We’re not human.”
“That is obvious.” She placed her hands flat on the counter and leaned forward. “Let me explain something to you. My grandchild is not being born in a cave. This girl will be attended by a midwife, a doula, a chosen female relative of her choice, in a location with four walls, a roof, running water and access to the internet, and it will all be done at her behest, not yours. She is the one giving birth, correct?”
Donato’s lip curled up in a snarl. “Are you challenging me?”
Jezamine’s eyes sparked. “Don’t forget what I am, drake.”
He leaned forward until his nose was nearly touching hers. “And what are you?” Besides his, and in dire want of a rubdown. Cranky dracaenas usually settled down with a good scale oiling. How long had it been since Jezamine had been oiled? No wonder she was so tense.
“A Hearn, drake.”
Donato froze. In a second, all his assumptions changed.
His expression went from heated, vaguely annoyed and something a bit darker, to blank. Jezamine was aware of the two teenagers whispering to each other, but obviously they’d decided it was wiser to let their parents duke it out rather than interfere and remind everyone why they were in their pickle to begin with.
Once again, the hair on her arms rose, and her magic sparked in response to an unseen threat. Her vision shifted, observing a hint of midnight about his aura. Danger, but not death. What had happened?
“A Hearn,” he said.
She frowned. “You know the name?”
“I know it.”
Not only were his pupils slits, but the shadow of scales moved under his skin. He transferred his gaze to Kayla and then to Joshua. “A Hearn. In my bloodline.” He laughed.
Jezamine stared at him, shocked.
“It’s too ironic,” he chuckled. “My brother will say he told me so.”
“Drake, you’re babbling,” Jezamine said, voice sharp.
He rounded on her. “Tell me you didn’t know.”
“Know what? And if you keep growling at me, I’ll hex you.”
Joshua rose from his seat, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Mother, maybe we should come back later.”
“No. We came to sit down and have a family meeting and just because he can’t control himself—”
Donato’s eyes widened. “At least, I’m not the descendent of a sneaky, underhanded—if I could demand my money back, I would.”
Now he really was babbling. She stared at him. “Have you lost your senses? What are you talking about?”
A taloned hand swiped beneath his shirt and drew out a jewel just big enough to sit in the palm of her hand. It was set in gold, hung on a medium-width chain. It flared into life, blinding her temporarily as it was exposed to air.
She’d been able to ignore the steady light up until then, but this was too much. Jezamine threw up an arm in front of her eyes and grabbed her son with her free hand, about to hex the unmannerly reptile when the jewel whispered at her.
Jezamine.
She froze. “It talks? What kind of spell is this?”
The light cleared, and Donato hadn’t moved. He watched her, arms folded, eyes narrow. “You don’t know?”
“Of course, I don’t know! But I’m about to find out, and when I do, I’ll break it. I don’t know what it does—”
“No!” he shouted, and half lunged across the table to seize her hand as it rose. Panic flared in his eyes for a split second, and fangs peeked out of his mouth.
“Dad!” Kayla exclaimed. “You gotta chill out. Okay, everyone, let’s take ten minutes.”
Jezamine didn’t move, examining the spell. His mind wasn’t ensorcelled, there was no obvious call to action compelling his actions. The spell itself wasn’t inimical. It baffled her, both its nature and its signature. So familiar . . . .
“How old is this jewel?” she asked.
He waited several breaths, then responded, voice calm in stark contrast to the burst of emotion before. “It’s over a hundr
ed years old, though only just.”
One hundred years. One hundred years. She chewed on her thoughts. “I don’t normally just ask what a spell does, but it seems to be evading my attempts to analyze it.”
“It would, since you’re the focus of it.”
“Dad.”
They turned towards Kayla and Joshua, Jezamine wondering if Donato had also forgotten why they were all gathered here.
“You guys should talk about this in private,” the girl said.
No, young woman. She would be a mother soon, and from the way Joshua hovered at her side, perhaps a wife. She would certainly encourage, with proper timing and planning, for her son to offer to do the right thing. Jezamine didn’t believe in single parent households, or in romance. If two people liked each other enough to create a child, they should like each other enough to make a home for that child.
Donato turned on his heel and strode to the French door leading to a back porch deck, opened them, and stepped out. Jezamine took a deep breath.
“We’ll be right back, guys.”
8
She slid the doors closed. “Whatever is between us, we can’t let it bleed over onto the children.”
Donato turned towards her, hands in his pockets. “So you admit there is something.”
She lifted a hand to her head, eyes closing for a moment. “It’s difficult to say. Supnats . . . well, we invented lust at first sight. It doesn’t mean we have to let it distract us, or that we’ll act on it.”
He smiled a little, and it didn’t reach his eyes. “You don’t understand the jewel around my neck, then. But you’re a Hearn. Witches trace their lines through the mother.”
She frowned at him. “Yes.”
“So, you are Aleka’s granddaughter.”
