Bloody Right

by Georgia Evans

  “To us,” Gryffyth said, raising his mug.

  She raised hers in reply. “To us.”

  “So, you agree there is an us?”

  Dear heaven, she hoped so. She wanted Gryffyth Pendragon in the worst, or was it best, possible way. “Before we go any further, Gryffyth, there’s something you must know about me.” Where had that come from? Not her brain. Her tongue had a mind of its own, it seemed. And she had to tell him.

  “What? Don’t tell me you’re already married?”

  “Good heavens, no.” It was much worse than that, and would no doubt send him running, or calling for a padded van, but she couldn’t let him keep thinking she was just a nice, normal, human schoolteacher. “Gryffyth.” She glanced around to be sure someone wasn’t sitting behind them. “Please listen—and I’m not losing my mind.” Deep breath. “You think I’m a schoolteacher. A normal woman evacuated to Brytewood. I’m not. My family is different from most people.” So far so good, he was still listening.

  “The women in our family are not quite human. We look and act and appear human but we’re Sprites. We take sustenance and strength from being in and near water.” There! She’d done it.

  He picked up his tea and took a long drink. What now? Was he going to call her loony? Walk away in horror and disbelief? In telling him, she’d gone against everything her mother and aunts had drilled into her, but she couldn’t keep it from him.

  “So,” he said, “you’re Other and a Water Sprite. We’re landlocked here in Surrey, unless you count the rivers. Must be hard for you.”

  “It’s not been easy but I found water. Not the sea, but it does.”

  “Where?”

  “There’s a hammerpond up on the heath. It’s a long walk but I cut through the woods.”

  “You mean up on the Longhurst farm? I’d rather you didn’t go there.”

  He accepted it, even if it stirred his jealousy. “It’s either that or the village pond, and frankly, Gryffyth, I’m not bathing naked there, even to keep you happy.”

  “No,” he agreed. “Not with every drunk from the Pig staggering past at closing time. Tell me,” he went on. “How often do you go?”

  “Always at full moon, and in between when I get itchy and anxious.”

  “I’m coming with you next time.”

  “I swim naked.”

  He had a wicked grin. “Good.”

  “It’s cold up there this time of year.”

  “We’ll keep each other warm.”

  They really had better get engaged then, except…“Wait a minute. You said I was ‘Other.’ What did you mean by that?”

  “Other is the term my father uses to describe anyone who’s more than human, who has another nature, or uses or can control magic of some sort.”

  “You’re not a Sprite. You can’t be. Only women are.”

  “Right, I’m not a Sprite.”

  “What are you then?” She’d started this but where was it going?

  “Finish dinner and I’ll take you outside and show you.”

  She really wasn’t hungry any longer, but after all her exhortations to schoolchildren about wasting food, she finished her prunes.

  Gryffyth took her hand in his. “Let’s go down by the river.”

  Seemed romantic enough, apart from the chill night air, but he had a reason other than romance to go down to the dark at the bottom of Bridge Street. She could see fairly well, despite the blackout, and he appeared to have no trouble at all finding his way. At the bottom of the hill, by the bridge, was a pub, shuttered and blacked out, but the sounds were unmistakable.

  Gryffyth turned off the road to the left and they walked across a stretch of land and into an area of woods.

  They were alone in the dark and quiet of the winter night.

  “This should be far enough away from everyone,” he said. “How well can you see in the dark?”

  “Well enough to see you just pushed up your coat sleeves and undid your cuffs.”

  “Good, I did. Learned the hard way to unbutton them first. Now, just a tick.” He pulled off his coat and draped it over her shoulders. “Be a love and hold that for me. I bet the ground is muddy this time of year.” He pushed up his jacket sleeves. “I don’t want to frighten you.”

  “Really? You lure me down to a deserted riverbank in the dead of night and then tell me you don’t want to frighten me?”

  “Good,” he chuckled. “I knew you weren’t the sort of girl to scare easily. I’m going to show you what I am, at least partly. You’ll understand. I hope.”

  So did she. So far things were about as clear as the duration of the war. “What are you doing?”

  “Look at my hands.”

  Mary stared. She no doubt gaped, but she couldn’t take her eyes off his hands. They changed, grew larger, his wrists thickened and his fingers curled. His nails turned into claws that he sheathed like a cat, and his skin darkened. A glance up at his face showed he was still her Gryffyth.

  She reached out and stroked the back of his hand. The skin was smooth and rippled, like a…she’d no idea what. She took his hand between hers and felt his palm. It was harder than the back of his hand and now his fingers were half their usual length, but as she watched he extended and drew back his massive claws.

  She should be scared, running like all possessed, except when she looked at his face, saw the same beautiful dark eyes and his wondrously sexy smile, she knew this was all the man she loved.

  “What are you?”

  “A Dragon.”

  Of course, with a name like his she should have guessed. But how could she? Never dreaming Dragons walked the Earth. “Your father too?”

  He nodded. “Yes, but don’t tell anyone.”

  “As if I would.” If she didn’t love him so much, she’d be insulted at the suggestion.

  “It doesn’t repulse you?”

  “If you can accept I swim naked in Tom Longhurst’s pond, I can cope with you growing claws.”

  “Not sure about you going up to Tom Longhurst’s pond.”

  “There is nowhere else. Trust me. I scoured the maps. The river isn’t deep enough. That pond is the only place within walking distance that is secluded.”

  “I’ll just have to come with you then.”

  “I said you could.” The more she thought about it, the more she fancied the idea. They could dry each other off and keep each other warm. A Dragon should be good for that. “Can all of you change?”

  “Of course, in fact it’s easier than just part, but I’m twice as big when I shift completely and would ruin my best clothes.”

  “Let me see you change completely one day.”

  “You’ll have to see me naked to do that.”

  “Smashing.” It was fun being shameless and forward with Gryffyth.

  “I’ll show you one thing now.” He stepped away from her and faced the dark, open expanse of the river. “Watch this.”

  She gasped as a great tongue of flame shot out in the dark. Dragons really did breathe fire.

  “Hey, you, down there. Douse that light!”

  “What the blazes is going on down there?”

  “Shit,” Gryffyth muttered. “Damn air raid wardens.”

  He grabbed her hand in his, the skin still rough and hard, and hobbled away at surprising speed, dragging her along. One hand was in his, the other clutching his coat around her shoulders until the shouts faded and they were alone, miles from anywhere it seemed.

  “You alright, Mary?”

  “Yes,” she replied, handing him back his coat. “So, Dragons really do breathe fire.”

  “Only when absolutely necessary.”

  “Like when convincing someone to marry you?”

  “You are a comedienne, Miss LaPrioux. How about it then? Want to be Mrs. Pendragon?”

  It did have a rather lovely ring to it. “My answer’s the same as before. Give me a little time. It’s a big decision.”

  “Maybe this will persuade you.” She expected the
kiss. She opened her lips and a great wildness seized her as their tongues touched. Only it didn’t stop there. Their tongues mated with each other, stroking, caressing, and teasing while he continued to whirl her around until she was giddy with the motion, the sensation and sheer and wondrous delight of his kiss.

  By the time he broke the kiss, she was too giddy to stand, and clutched onto him as the world around them still turned.

  “I love you, Mary,” he said, not the slightest bit breathless. Lucky him, having Dragon lungs.

  “I love you, too.”

  “I’ll settle for that. For now,” he said.

  “Talking about settling. Do you have any idea where we are other than a long way from the town?”

  “I know where we are. Sort of. If we head away from the river, we should come out somewhere near the parish church.”

  They did, after a bit of trespass on a couple of private gardens and a privet hedge. She rather wondered how they looked. Disheveled, and a bit rumpled, no doubt. But Mary really didn’t worry too much.

  She had far more important things on her mind.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Evening, son. Fancy a beer?”

  There were three bottles and a glass tankard on the kitchen table. Gryffyth couldn’t help noticing his father already had a half-empty glass. Celebrating? Or drowning his disappointment?

  “Thanks, Dad, I will.” He snapped off the cap with the bottle opener and picked up the spare tankard. “Well, Dad,” he said as he tilted the tankard and poured the beer slowly to avoid too thick a head. “How did things go?”

  “Let’s put it this way, Gryff. I’m taking Helen shopping in Leatherhead tomorrow. She wants a ring with a red stone.”

  Gryffyth grinned. Couldn’t help it. He might be in limbo but his father’s joy was written all over his face. He left the beer and mug on the table as he shook his father’s hand and gave him a filial thump on the back. “Oh, Dad! That’s smashing. She said yes!”

  “She did indeed, son. You’re looking at a very happy man.” He raised an eyebrow. “Any luck?”

  “Sort of. She didn’t refuse. Just asked for time to think about it.”

  “Can’t blame the girl for that, son. You did rather leap in there. But she left you hopeful?”

  Hopeful? He’d say he was. “The thing is…hold on a minute, Dad. I’ve stuff to tell you.” Gryffyth grabbed his beer and sat down opposite his father. Felt good to be by the fire. “It’s like this…”

  Dad was a good listener. Always had been. He sat silent, nodding and giving his own particular smile as Gryffyth told him about Mary.

  “Capital!” Dad said, as he finished. “A Water Sprite, eh?” He sounded pleased with himself. “Who’d have guessed it? And the poor girl stuck in landlocked Surrey.”

  “She goes up to the hammerpond on Tom Longhurst’s land.” There was absolutely no justification for that bellow of ribald laughter. “You may think it’s hilarious, Dad. What if that old lecher sees her?”

  “He’s not that old, son, only a couple of years older than you.”

  “That’s the whole point. How would you feel if the woman you love went nude swimming in someone else’s pond?”

  That left his dad bereft of speech for a good fifteen seconds. “Hell, son, I’d go swimming with her!”

  That’s what he’d planned, but on second thoughts…“She’ll see me, Dad. My stump.”

  “She will when you marry her, son, if not before. Might as well get used to you.”

  He really hated it when is father was so completely right.

  “What the blazes am I going to do, Dad?”

  “About what? Your Mary?”

  He liked the sound of that. His Mary! “She’s not mine yet.”

  “That’s up to you, isn’t it? Look here, son. She fancies you, made that pretty clear Saturday night in front of the entire village, and let me tell you she’s a sensible girl. Yes, she went out with young Longhurst once, maybe twice, but she soon gave him the shove. She picked you, lad. Count your blessings there. And, according to you, she didn’t turn green, faint, or run screaming at the knowledge that you grow wings, turn scaly, and breathe fire when the mood takes you.

  “If that girl—sorry, Sprite—can cope with that news, I don’t think your missing a chunk of leg is going to cause her to even blink.” He paused to tip his tankard and drain it. “She loves you, Gryff. You’ve nothing to worry about. Not there.”

  Seeing the empty tankard in his father’s hand, Gryffyth fetched and opened another bottle for him.

  “Thanks, son. So,” Dad went on, as he poured the beer with a well-practiced wrist, “you told her about the get-together tomorrow night?”

  “No, Dad! I didn’t! You can’t want her caught up in all that.” He knew better than go against that look on his father’s face. But damn it. “Dad, she could get hurt. She’s not from here. She’s worries enough of her own without getting caught up with our problems.”

  “Ask her, Gryff. Give her the choice. She understands about war and knows more about invasion than either of us.”

  Smashing! He could just see Mary hobnobbing with Alice and Gloria and sharpening stakes. If Peter and Andrew were willing to let their women risk getting killed, that was their affair. He wasn’t taking any risks with Mary. “I’ll think about it, Dad.”

  “You do that, son, and while you’re at it, see what you can find out about Sprites. Don’t know much about them myself. I thought she was some sort of Fairy.”

  “How did you know she was Other?”

  “After a while you notice it. Knew Nurse Prewitt was, long before she admitted it. Come to that, you knew about your Mary.”

  “Dad, I didn’t.”

  He wasn’t about to budge. Stubborn old man. “Yes, you did, son. That was part of the attraction. Same for her no doubt. Why do you think she picked you out of a roomful of people? Your Otherness called to her, even if she didn’t realize it at the time.”

  “If that’s true, Dad, how do you explain Alice and Gloria falling for plain, common, or garden humans?”

  “Can’t, really,” he replied, with a twinkle in his eye. “Just know it was Otherness drew you two together. Be a good lad and mention tomorrow night to her. She might be just what we need.”

  Quite possibly, but they’d manage without her. If there were Vampires lurking around, he was keeping Mary right away from them or his name wasn’t Gryffyth Pendragon.

  Gloria picked up the mail from the front door mat: a thick, buff envelope full of even more government forms for her, and a letter for Mary. Interesting—Mary seldom got any post. Not that it was any business of hers who did or did not write to Mary.

  “One for you,” she said, passing the white envelope to Mary across the kitchen table. After she’d noticed the local postmark.

  “Thank you.” Even the little crease between her eyes didn’t dull the glow on Mary’s face. She must have had a really nice time last night.

  “How did things go with Gryffyth?” Nosy, but maybe it sounded friendly and interested.

  Beaming might be a good word to describe the look on her face. “Gryffyth Pendragon asked me to marry him.”

  “Jeepers!” That sounded rude. “What did you say?”

  “I told him I wanted a little time to think about it.”

  “Don’t blame you. He’s a fast worker. Talk about jumping the gun a bit.”

  “It seemed too soon to say yes.”

  Gloria picked up her cup, drank, and wondered if they didn’t both need something stronger than PG Tips, but they did both have to go to work. “You wanted to?” And she thought she and Andrew had moved fast.

  “Yes, to be honest. Part of me fell in love with him the minute I saw him Saturday night. The more I see of him, the more convinced I am we belong together and I’ll never find anyone else who suits me so well. The sane, rational side of me says you can’t possibly fall in love and decide to marry a man in four days.”

  “I dunno about th
at.”

  “You and Andrew?”

  “Me and Andrew?” That was ungrammatical, but thinking about him scrambled her syntax. “Don’t take us as an example of how to choose a life partner. I think we broke all the rules.”

  “Didn’t know there were rules,” Mary said. “Might be easier if there were, wouldn’t it?”

  “You’re uncertain?”

  “No. I’m dead certain I want him but I’m stuck here, the Channel and the German Army between me and my family. I don’t know when, or even if, I’ll ever get to go home again. Who knows what’s going to happen in the next few months or years, and where I’ll end up?”

  She had several good points, but…“Come to that, do any of us? We’re all just one bomb away from never having to worry about food shortages or blackout curtains ever again. If Gryffyth Pendragon is who you want, grab him.”

  “You’re right.”

  “You sound much less certain than you did five minutes ago.” And there was the sticky question of Gryffyth being a Dragon. Or did Mary know about that? If she didn’t, it was his job, not hers, to break the news.

  “It’s just…” Mary paused, chewed a mouthful of toast and Marmite very slowly, then went on. “I love him, Gloria. We’ve more in common than I ever dreamed of, but I have this awful feeling that bad things are about to happen and I don’t want to drag him into them.”

  “Do you imagine for one minute that you could keep him out?”

  She chuckled. “Good point. I so want to say yes to him, but something is holding me back.”

  Who was she to give anyone advice? At least Mary didn’t have to worry about going furry once a month. “Never mind. If he’s who you’re meant to have, you’ll end up together.” She remembered her old mentor saying that. About just about everything. “Why not look at your post? Want another cup?”

  Mary shook her head. There’d be a cup waiting at school. Which reminded her, she needed to bring in a spoonful to donate to the communal tea caddy. Meanwhile, she picked up the envelope. Who was writing to her? Gryffyth? Looked too precise for his manly handwriting. Not that she’d actually seen his handwriting, but imagined well-formed letters and strong flourishes.