by Dixon, Ruby
In dreams? He can come after Vaan in dreams? My stomach clenches sickeningly at the thought. "So what do we do?"
"Do we take him out?" Amy asks, fiddling with a lock of her blonde hair.
I'm surprised to hear it, but I'm even more surprised when no one vetoes the idea. Instead, the others look thoughtful. "How do we do it, though?" Sasha asks.
"Are we absolutely sure he's evil?" I can't help but throw out there. "Is it possible we're just misunderstanding him?'
The other four women just stare at me.
I feel stupid. "Right. Evil. Okay."
Amy reaches over and squeezes my hand. "You have a good heart, Gwen, but trust me when I say this guy is awful and you never want to meet him. Ever."
They are right, Gwen. There is no good in a Salorian. They are taught from birth that drakoni are not people but things to be used. They will kill and destroy on a whim. They will take your mind without a thought. They are pure evil.
I'm sorry. I just had to ask, you know? I've made bad decisions when I was desperate, too. I think of my stupid, stupid choice to let the Brothers of Ash into the fort, and then all the stupid decisions I had to make after that just because I was cornered.
That is different, my dragon tells me. You are not the same as them. Trust me.
"Even if we wanted to take Azar out, I don't know how we'd get to the fort. It's covered in dragons. They're all possessed, all lurking over the fort itself like gargoyles." Emma drums her fingers on the tabletop. "There's no way to get close."
"How many can he possess at once?" I ask, curious.
Hundreds, Vaan answers me, and that's a depressing thought. Judging from the worried looks on the others’ faces, they don't like the answers they're getting, either.
"I'm worried about the people in the fort," Claudia admits. "The ones that don't have a choice about staying. I know the fort's a cesspool, but there are women and kids there, women and kids that are forced to depend on others to survive. I don't even want to think about what the militia's like under someone like Azar."
I shudder, hugging my arms over my chest at my own memories of being in a fort. All you need is one asshole in power to make everyone's lives miserable, and it seems like forts breed those.
"I'm more concerned about the fact that he's acquired so many dragons," Amy says. "He's building an army. We're not safe. No one is."
"He's definitely planning something." Sasha looks worried, her voice soft. "But what?"
"Whatever it is, it can't be good." Emma drums her fingers again. Her head tilts and then she slides her hand off her table and into her lap, glancing at her dragon.
"Maybe…maybe we should try to talk to him?" I wince even as I suggest it, expecting the others to shoot down my idea. When no one does, I get a little braver. "If he was amassing an army, I would think he'd rob and pillage a bit more. Has he been attacking the countryside? Taking more land for himself? Increasing his borders?"
Claudia looks thoughtful, her hands smoothing down her belly over and over again absently. "Hmm. No. They just stick to the fort's walls. They don't venture out except to hunt. Kael and I have watched them for days. It's always the same thing. Hunting, then guarding the fort. That's it. Nothing else."
Emma adds, “Zohr and I went to Fort Orleans, too. Checked the area out. It’s quiet. No roosting dragons. Whatever’s going on, it’s in Fort Dallas.”
Huh. "Sounds more like he's defending against something to me."
Emma bites her nails, agitated. "What the hell scares a Salorian, though?"
"That's the question I think we need answered," I admit. "Maybe he knows something we don't. Maybe there's a bigger problem that we all need to be aware of."
The table is silent.
I think you have frightened them, Vaan tells me.
I grimace. I'm just trying to think things through. Try to understand why someone needs so many dragons. There are only so many logical answers.
He needs an army, Vaan insists.
An army for what, though? What does he want? Land? There's tons of it just lying around. Defense from other dragons? All he has to do is send them away with a thought. There's something here we're not thinking of and that's what worries me the most. I glance around the table and the others are silent, their attention turned inward, and it's clear we're all having discussions with our dragons.
After a long moment, Amy sighs. "I hate to say it, but now I feel like we need to know what he's doing."
Claudia nods at her. "Best to know up front what's going on. If he attacks us, we know it's nothing good."
This is dangerous, Vaan tells me, growling his disapproval.
It is, I agree, but don't you think it needs to be done? Otherwise you're not safe no matter where you go. You heard Emma—she watches Zohr in his sleep because he was possessed in it once. Do I need to watch you sleep for the rest of my life? Or do we talk to this asshole and try to come to a truce?
Vaan's thoughts are openly skeptical. Salorians do not deal with anyone else. They consider themselves the law.
That may be true, but the rules are different here. This is a whole different world. I can't help but wonder why he's hiding out in a fort. Maybe he's pissed off the wrong people. Maybe there's more Salorians than we thought. Maybe there's an entirely new problem. At any rate, we have an invitation and we'd be better off knowing the evil so we can fight it, instead of guessing at it.
Mmm. His growl turns to reluctant agreement. Either you are too persuasive or I am a fool for agreeing with you.
You can be both, I tease him. To the others, I say, "So how should we handle this?"
"We can't all go," Claudia murmurs and takes a sip of her water. "That'll look like a show of force."
"We're not all going anyhow." Emma flattens her hand on the table, her expression firm. "I love you guys, I do, but I love my Zohr more. He's suffered enough at that one's hands. I have no desire to see that Salorian pendejo ever again. Zohr is not getting anywhere near that fort."
Sasha bites her lip. "Dakh doesn't want me to go." She touches her rounded stomach.
Claudia snorts. "I think your dragon's talking to mine."
"Both of you are pregnant," Amy says with a little shake of her head. "I'll go."
Emma raises a finger. “Three of us, actually. I’m pregnant, too—not that it matters because we’re not going anywhere near that fort.”
“Then it should be me,” Amy says again.
"No," Claudia protests. "You can't. This is a bad idea for everyone." She looks around the table, wanting support.
"I agree with Claudia." I look over at Amy. "You're needed to run Fort Shreveport. Vaan and I will go." The moment I say it, I know Vaan supports me. He isn't thrilled about the idea, but his thoughts are as mine—Amy is needed. Claudia and Sasha—and Emma—are pregnant. Zohr's too compromised.
I have been compromised, too, but I cannot let you go alone.
Amy shakes her head, staring at me. "You can't. You said yourself that Vaan has been possessed, too."
"Yes, but I'm able to bring him back," I tell them. "I've done it twice now.”
Emma purses her lips. "It's different the closer you are to a Salorian." She drums her fingers on the table again, then picks up her hand, as if realizing that she's fidgeting. "You'll need to be really careful."
Amy looks worried. "What if you can't pull Vaan back?"
"Then nothing will matter anymore anyhow," I say softly. I don't have to explain. I can tell from the knowing looks in their eyes that they understand exactly what I mean. If I lose my dragon, I lose everything. I won't care about going on at that point.
I will not let anyone harm you, Vaan tells me. Ever. I will die first.
I hope we don't come to that.
40
VAAN
Gwen wishes to leave right away, but I refuse. She is tired after so much travel and needs a night to rest and recover before we fly into the Salorian's lair.
Myself, I want a night to ho
ld my mate close in case tomorrow goes as badly as I think it will.
So the females talk late into the night, speaking of plans and forts and bellies heavy with child. Gwen likes the others, so I am happy to see her animated and talking with the females. I like her laugh, even if it is not for me. The drakoni are quieter, more content to listen to our mates than converse amongst ourselves. We talked briefly of our homeland, but when it became evident that we have lost more than we remember, it sours the mood and we fall silent once more.
I am luckier than both Dakh and Kael, I think. I am not nearly as crazed as those two, but not as clear as Rast, who remembers a great deal but shares little. It is just as well. The more I remember, the more I think I am lucky to have forgotten.
Eventually the females yawn as they speak, and I gather up my Gwen and take her away to the privacy of a nearby rooftop. She wraps a thin blanket around her shoulders and pats the hard concrete, inviting me to sleep next to her.
I will shift, I tell her as I tuck her close to my scales, but only for a mating. I would rather be in battle form throughout the night to protect you.
We're safe out here, aren't we?
I do not have an answer for that. I do not know if anything is safe with a Salorian so close nearby. So I simply shift to my two-legged form and pull her against me, clawing at her clothes.
Gwen laughs, the sound so achingly sweet that it tears through me. "You're not going to leave me with anything to wear if you keep this up."
My plan is working, I rumble. Soon you will be naked all the time, as it should be.
She snorts, but her hands are moving over my shoulders and down my chest, and it is clear my mate is as eager to touch me as I am to touch her. I kiss her hard and then pull her under me. Her legs go around my waist, and I wonder if we are going to mate face to face again, as we did last night.
Does it bother you? she asks between kisses. Making love like that?
No. I like it. I like gazing into your eyes when I am deep inside you.
Gwen gives a little shiver and her arousal floods the air. I groan at the scent of it and do my best to remove her leg coverings without shredding them. She chuckles at my fumbling and helps me, and then her cunt is exposed to my view, the dark curls musky with her scent. I kneel before her, lured by her beauty.
I bury my face there, hungry to taste her. Gwen gasps. Her hands go to my hair, and she slides to the hard concrete as I move between her legs and dip my head. I drag my tongue over her cunt, lapping up her sweet desire. She has been my mate for almost a week now and every time I touch her, I feel as full of urgency as I did the first time. I want to take my time, to go slow and tender, but my need is too great. I plunge my tongue deep into her cunt, fucking her with it even as my thumb finds her clit. All of my claws are gone now, because it means I can touch her without fear of harming her. Another drakoni male without a human mate might not understand such a thing—loss of claws is a shameful thing—but when I sat atop my perch this night, I saw several of the other drakoni males had removed their claws.
A mate comes first. Her pleasure is greater than honor in a world I have long-since forgotten.
With a cry, Gwen shudders against me, her body wracked with shivers. She trembles the closer she gets to her climax, and next time, I tell myself as I swipe my tongue over her folds, next time we will go slow. Tonight, I must have her. I push her thighs apart and she whimpers encouragement, her arms going around my neck. Yes, she tells me. Please. Now.
With one deep stroke, I pierce her body with mine, and her loud cry of pleasure carries on the wind. Frantic, she digs her tiny claws into my shoulders and pants words of encouragement as I pump into her. There is a desperate edge to our mating, and I take her with ferocity. She claws and bites my shoulder, screaming out her release. When her cunt ripples and tightens around my cock, my own climax tears through me with enough force that both of us collapse, panting, on the makeshift nest.
Next time, I promise her. Next time we will go slow.
As long as you promise me there will be a next time, she tells me breathlessly.
There must be. I refuse to think of any other outcome.
* * *
We leave the next morning and the weather is bright and clear. My mate is too nervous to eat a meal and spends her time fussing with the straps on the saddle and the gun she has at her waist. She says the gun isn't for dragons, but for emergencies. I worry what kind of emergency she's envisioning, but most of the mental images I pick from her mind involve her feeding the gun into her own mouth, so that cannot be right.
I nuzzle my mate one last time before she climbs into the saddle.
Be careful, Kael sends to me. If there is danger to you or your mate, turn back. No one would blame you.
My thanks, I tell him gravely. Hopefully this truce will be as he says.
The truce might be, but expect him to have other traps, Zohr adds. That one is sly and constantly thinks of new ways to grow his power.
As every Salorian does, Rast says. It does not matter that he is here instead of our homeland. Treat him as you would any other Salorian threat.
If you can destroy him, do it. Dakh's thoughts are bloodthirsty and full of protective anger. His thoughts are on his mate and the young she carries in her belly. When I search my memories, there is nothing but bitter rage and frustration. Let us start anew in this world, with our mates at our side. Kill him and let us be done with the old ways.
If it comes to that, I shall, I vow. Nothing will threaten Gwen. Nothing.
My mate wraps the reins around her hand and settles into her seat. Her waist and leg straps are on, and she puts a pair of glasses over her eyes to shield them from the wind. "I'm ready."
The other females call out well-wishes and good luck, and then I launch myself from the building and into the air, heading toward the human hive occupied by a Salorian.
Are you frightened? I ask my mate as we arrow toward a distant spot plumed by columns of smoke. It is not hard to find, because they have made no attempt to hide their presence. Claudia and Kael's own nest is but a short flight away.
Oddly enough, no. Gwen's thoughts are calm and relaxed. I'm curious why he was calling for someone, but I can't imagine this is all just one big trap to lure more dragons. If it was, there are plenty without mates he can try to take over. It seems a big reach to try and pull one of us in. I have to think he wants to talk to someone. Either he has a secret he wants to tell, or he wants to bargain.
Bargain? I am impressed by my mate's clever mind.
Trade what he knows for something he thinks we have. Either that or he's scared of something and is looking for assistance. No matter what it is, I don't think we're in immediate danger.
Not enough danger for you to lick the end of your gun, I hope.
Her thoughts are startled. Oh. Vaan, you weren't supposed to hear that.
But I did. I do not like how her thoughts grow sad, either. Licking the gun is a bad thing?
Yes. It's a last resort, for if he does something…bad to you. Claudia and Sasha are pregnant. Amy needs to take care of my fort. They're needed. Emma is protecting Zohr, and I hope I'm not making the wrong choice by both of us going in. Maybe I should go alone—
Never. Fierce anger blisters through my mind. You will not go anywhere unless I am there to protect you.
I figured you'd say that, which is why I didn't suggest it. She reaches forward, touching the scales along the back of my neck ridge. The gun's for me because if he does something to you…I'm not going to live much longer. I'd rather take myself out than let them torture me.
I wheel about in the sky. I am turning around.
Wait! No, Vaan. That's only if it is something bad. It might not be. If I truly thought we were in danger, we wouldn't be going. I promise. Please. Let's go to Fort Dallas and see what these assholes want. It has to be something important if this guy's wanting a truce, and him with so many playing pieces on the board.
I grumble low in m
y chest. I do not like the thought of you being in danger.
Gwen's thoughts brighten. Well, after this is done you are welcome to try and get me pregnant so we take ourselves out of the running of the next trip.
It is a bargain, I agree swiftly. I tilt my wings, lazily turning in a circle and drifting along air currents until we face the human hive once more. I think of Gwen, her belly full of young like the other females, and the thought fills me with longing and pleasure. Do you truly want that? I ask her, sending a visual of my mate with our child in her arms. I picture a drakoni boy at her breast, small claws curled against her brown skin as he nurses. He would have my scales of course, but would he have her hair? Or would he be a soft brown, as she is? I like the thought.
A baby with you? I would, she tells me shyly. I've always loved the idea of a big family. Maybe it's not smart to bring kids into this world, but it's the only one we've got at the moment. I would love to be a mom…and I'd love to see you as a dad.
Then we shall deal with this Salorian, I tell her, and then we will build ourselves a nest and I will fill you with my seed so often that you cannot help but get fat with young.
Her laughter is torn away by the breeze, but I hear it anyhow.
41
GWEN
Fort Dallas reminds me a lot of Fort Tulsa. The barrier—made entirely of broken-down cars and trucks stacked atop of each other like massive building blocks—is new, but the squalor isn't. Even before we get there, I see trash lining the broken streets and carcasses of dead animals, kicked into muddy gutters and left to rot. I know what the inside will look like without even crossing through the gates, because this reminds me so much of Tulsa and all the things we didn't want to do in our new home. The smell of the fort hits me like a ton of bricks—filth and excrement, mud and animals and overall a horrible, rotten sort of smell that's like garbage times a thousand.
