by Ann Gimpel
“I don’t understand.” Raene turned her head to talk with Aegir.
“Ye just handed her leverage to get her youngling back.” Aegir didn’t look pleased.
“What’s wrong with that?”
“Your own life may be forfeit. Instead of Gregor’s. We’ve covered that ground.”
Raene swallowed hard. “I don’t understand.” But then what he’d told her earlier flashed through her mind. About how Gregor’s pod would do away with her—the evidence—before harming their liege.
“Never mind.” She blew out a tight breath.
The dragon wasn’t bugling anymore. “Never fear, Selkie. I shall see to your safety,” Tarika said in somber tones. “Ye’ve just given me a bargaining chip.”
“Don’t take this wrong,” Raene said, “but how certain are you that your young dragon will want to return?”
“Och, he probably doesn’t, but this isna about what he wants. ’Tis about loyalty to his kind and doing the right thing.”
Raene started to say she hoped that type of reasoning worked better with dragons than humans, but decided she’d be better served to remain silent. The dragon had to be ancient beyond reckoning. Surely, she knew what she was about.
“We will ensure your safety,” floated through her mind in an unfamiliar voice.
“Who are you?” Raene asked.
“Britta. Tarika’s human shifter mate.”
“I don’t understand,” Raene sputtered. “You’re two different, uh, people?”
“Indeed we are. When my body is primary, the dragon resides within me.”
“They’re not like us.” Aegir had obviously been listening in. “We are the seal and the seal is us. We have a single consciousness, where they maintain two.”
Fascination gripped Raene. “Do you always agree?” she asked Britta.
A cascade of silvery laughter filled her mind. “Of course not.”
“Enough,” Tarika snapped. “We shall arrive verra soon. I will land, and then we will enter the water.”
“Bad idea,” Aegir said.
“Explain yourself.” Tarika’s words could have etched stone that had been scorched by her fire.
Behind her, Raene heard breath hiss from between Aegir’s teeth. “Your primary weapon is fire, Madame Dragon. Underwater, that weapon will become useless. Selkies are far more maneuverable in our home environment than you, primarily because ye’re so much larger.”
“Instead of telling me why it won’t work, come up with a better strategy.” Tarika sounded as if she were holding tight to her temper. Raene assumed no one ever stood up to her, questioned her, or challenged her proposals.
“I will summon Gregor and whoever he chooses to accompany him. He canna refuse me. We will meet in a spot on land of our choosing, not his.”
“I knew there was a reason I brought you along, other than in case my negotiations slid off the rails.” The dragon laughed, puffing steam into the dank night air.
Raene scanned the horizon. Grey lined the eastern sky. It wouldn’t be night much longer. Unbelievably, she’d grown comfortable astride the dragon. No longer worried about falling off—or being tossed aside—she’d relaxed enough to delight in the impossible.
Not that there was anyone she could tell, but she wished her mother was still alive. Kari’s eyes would gleam with keen interest, and she’d mine for details, so she could reconstruct what dragon-riding had been like. Sadness for her recent loss filled her with regrets for all the misunderstandings.
At least I got to see her, hold her, before she died.
A rocky coastline spread before them. Raene leaned to one side, picking out aspects of the barren land. “Where are we?”
“Siberia,” Aegir answered.
A surprised-sounding gasp burst from her. They hadn’t been flying all that long. Either Tarika had made far better time than the fastest jet, or magic played a role in their journey. Probably the latter.
“I’d have had a hell of a hard time getting here on my own,” she murmured.
“The only way would have been to teleport,” Aegir agreed. “For that, ye’d have required a destination.”
She twisted her head so she could see him. “Which you would have supplied.”
He offered an equivocal expression without actually answering her.
“Hold tight,” Tarika instructed moments before she banked hard right and circled to land. The transition from airborne to an icy shoreline happened faster than Raene had expected it would, but this was a dragon not an airplane.
Aegir’s magic built around them. She’d grown used to the feel of his power with its salt scent of the sea and leaned into it without thinking things to death. He moved them to the ground. Absent the dragon’s heat, she began to shiver.
“Aye, lass. ’Tis cold here on a summer’s day, and we’re far from summer.”
“I can fix that,” Tarika turned and puffed steam until it surrounded them. Along with the steam, Raene’s pelt fell into her arms. Aegir collected his as well.
He batted the thick steam aside. She peered through the hole he’d made and saw ice-crusted water extending many meters into the ocean. The ice had frozen in waves that matched snow sastrugi decorating the beach in spots. Jagged black rocks rose behind them.
He frowned. “There’s a cave not far from here. I’ve met with Gregor and others from his pod there.”
“Why not in the sea?” Raene asked.
“More of an equal playing field. My father was liege then, and ’twas his idea to hold a meeting on shore rather than in the center of Gregor’s power.”
“I always liked your father,” Tarika observed. She made shooing motions with her taloned forelegs. “Where is this cavern? Sooner we get there, the sooner we can summon him.”
“This way.” Aegir narrowed his eyes. “I was trying to figure out if ye’d fit within.”
“If not her, then me,” Britta spoke up.
The dragon tilted her head back and painted the sky with fire.
“None of that.” Aegir’s tone was sharp. He followed it immediately with, “Sorry, First Born. I’m not planning to tell Gregor ye’re here—until he shows up. If I do, he’ll put two and two together immediately—particularly, since ye’ve already tried to get your youngling back—and he might refuse to leave the sea. ’Twould be verra unfortunate. Akin to throwing down a gauntlet challenging my pod to warfare.”
The dragon’s protective cocoon of steam had dissipated. Raene’s teeth began to chatter. “The cave?”
“Over there.” Aegir pointed at the rocky crags. He set an enchantment around his skin. Raene did the same before they set off toward the cliffs.
Her feet had turned to chunks of ice. She’d have sold her soul for a pair of fur-lined boots. Or any shoes at all. She was almost too cold to be relieved to have her pelt back in her possession. They covered the distance to the band of cliffs quickly. One moment, she saw Aegir, the next he’d vanished between two impossibly tall boulders. Made sense the entrance would be hidden by magic. She opened her third eye and followed the trail he’d left. The air turned brilliant with shades of blue and green around her. The scents of sunbaked clay, rosemary, and cactus flowers joined the kaleidoscope of hues.
Raene was nearly through the opening when a tall, well-muscled, red-headed woman joined her. Though she was naked, she wasn’t shivering like Raene. A set of golden eyes brimming with humor regarded her.
“Well, Selkie, do ye not have questions?”
“You must be Britta. Did all those wonderful scents belong to your shift magic?”
The same silvery laughter she’d heard before surrounded Raene. “Aye, ’twas my magic, and I am Britta. Tarika may have fit within, but she’d never have made it through this opening.”
Raene battled an inane desire to bow her head to the regal creature with red curls that fell to arse level. Instead, she hurried inside. A mage light bobbed next to Aegir, illuminating the interior of a sizeable cavern. The walls were covered w
ith iridescent lichen. Water dripped down from the ceiling, forming pools along the sandy floor.
Aegir bowed low, going to a knee before he rose. “My lady. ’Tis been many a long year since we’ve met.”
“That it has. Good to see you, Aegir, although I could wish for more auspicious circumstances.”
“Me as well.” He stood aside and tilted his head at a series of chests lined up against the wall behind him. “The Selkies keep clothing in those. Ye might wish to avail yourself of their contents.”
“Convenient,” Raene said and strode past him hoping she’d find something warm for her feet. They’d hurt like hell when blood came back into them, and her Selkie side was pushing hard for freedom. It had layers of blubber—and no human feet to worry about.
Whoever stocked the chests had a methodical soul. One held trousers. Another sweaters and jackets. The third held boots in enough sizes, she located a fur-lined pair that fit perfectly.
Britta had joined her. “I’m not cold, but humans have an odd sense of propriety when it comes to me remaining naked.”
“Selkies as well?” Raene asked and quirked a brow.
“Och aye, they’re the worst.” Britta laughed again and moved on to the chest with trousers.
“If I’d known where we were headed,” Aegir told Raene, “I’d have insisted ye take something more of mine than the robe.”
“It’s all right.” Not blessed with Britta’s lack of modesty, she’d pulled pants on beneath her robe and turned toward the wall to layer on a sweater and thick woolen jacket. Last, she tugged a hat over her head and ears.
“Are we done with the fashion show yet?” Tarika’s voice blatted from Britta, accompanied by smoke and fire.
“Stop that,” Britta told her bondmate. “We doona want it to stink of dragonfire in here.”
Aegir knelt before a cold hearth. There wasn’t a stick of wood in sight, which wasn’t surprising since trees probably didn’t grow in this cold, barren place. Rocks lined the firepit, and he coaxed them to life with magic until they glowed a deep red.
He stood and dusted his hands together. “There. That should help explain any residual fire smell. Is everyone ready?”
Raene nodded and then asked. “Should I, um, cloak myself somehow?”
“What do ye think?” Aegir asked Britta.
She tilted her head to one side, regarding Raene. “Well, this Gregor person surely willna be expecting his daughter, yet one of those with him may well be suspicious enough to scan us with magic. To be safe, I’ll include her in the spell I spin about myself. The one that will shield what I am from Selkie curiosity.”
“How long will it take?” Aegir asked.
“Moments. Go ahead and summon your kinsman.”
A snort burbled past Aegir’s lips. “I willna make it sound like a summons, and I hate to acknowledge such as him as kin.”
“If that pesky Selkie gives us any trouble at all about my dragon”—Tarika commandeered Britta’s vocal chords again—“ye can kiss those fancy clothes goodbye.”
“Och aye, léannan.” Britta’s voice was soothing. “Doona shift afore ye must.”
“I make my own decisions,” the dragon retorted.
Raene wondered what it would be like to share a bond with something that ancient. Or that powerful. The specter stole her breath, and her wits. She was more than happy with her seal. She and it were one and the same. No arguments. No dual consciousness. Only a single point of view.
Aegir returned to the fire and knelt once again. He held his hands in front of him so the palms faced one another and curved his fingers, creating unbroken arcs. He chanted low in Gaelic, and something like a display formed between his cupped hands.
In the center, a black Selkie with silver markings took shape. “Aegir. To what do I owe the pleasure of your presence in my cave?”
“’Tis been too long, Gregor. I bring tidings. Would ye meet with me?”
“Of course. Join me in the sea, brother. My palace is always open to you.” Long whiskers twitched.
Raene stood off to one side, hopefully beyond Gregor’s field of vision. What would he say next? This father of hers who was worse than no father at all. Whenever she thought about how he’d threatened her mother with death, anger swamped her.
“Easy.” Britta breathed the word into her mind. “I have a harder time masking strong emotions.”
Until now, Raene hadn’t felt the link with the dragon shifter because her magic was subtle. “Sorry.”
“Better,” Britta murmured. “Hang onto the place ye are right this moment.”
“I would love to accommodate you,” Aegir told Gregor, “but my wife is with me.”
“So? Surely, she can enter the sea as well. We’ve quite a banquet laid out. You’d be our honored guests.”
“Too kind of you.” To his credit, Aegir managed to look chagrined. “My wife isna one of the Sea Folk.” He took a breath and dove into a lie so blatant Raene’s eyes widened. “My pod no longer welcomes me, and I would talk with you of many things, yet not via telepathy. As ye well know, we could be overheard by fell things. I am recently returned from Arcadia and a battle with the Fae.”
Gregor wrinkled his snout in what might have been consternation or a frown or any one of a hundred other things. Raene hadn’t spent enough time with Selkies to read their expressions.
“I understand, brother. I shall arrive shortly with a few of our kinsmen.”
Aegir inclined his head. “Thank you, brother. I appreciate your willingness to accommodate my needs.”
Gregor barked laughter. “I’m looking forward to meeting the woman who lured you from our fold. She must be something.”
“Gentle seas, brisk wind, and plentiful fish,” Aegir responded as he substituted a Selkie greeting for responding to Gregor’s snide implication.
“Same to you,” Gregor said.
Next to Raene, Britta drew more magic. Less subtle this time, it shimmered about her. When it settled, she was blonde, blue-eyed, and had a vixenish look.
Aegir brushed his hands along his sides, dispelling his impromptu screen. He twisted to face them. “Sorry, but I had to come up with something quickly. Ye’ll be my wife?”
Britta laughed. “Of course. He’ll have no way of knowing my people call me the Iron Maiden.”
“Och, I’d forgotten that.” Aegir rolled his dark eyes.
“And I shall be her Selkie handmaid,” Raene said. “If you have such things.”
“Ye can be her lady’s maid.” Aegir addressed his next words to Britta. “Could ye thicken up the enchantment around Raene?”
Power settled over her like a mantle. When she glanced down at herself, her hair had turned black, and her skin was a deep, coppery shade.
“Now we wait,” Aegir said.
“Not for long,” Britta countered. “They’re nearly here.”
Chapter 9
Aegir did his damnedest to appear relaxed, normal. Britta moved to his side, once he straightened from his crouch, and slipped a hand in his. Next, she rested her head on his shoulder. She was a good partner in crime, and an excellent actress. He began to let himself believe they could pull this off.
Once Gregor and his minions showed up, the dragon would swathe the cavern with magic. If he remembered anything about Tarika, no one would leave until she got her dragonling back.
The air grew liquid with the salt scent of the sea and the soft, mossy touch of Selkie power. Gregor had never been particularly strong magically, but he had a ruthless side that more than made up for his lack. The Siberian pod had once coexisted with his own in another segment of the North Sea. They’d only moved thousands of kilometers to the east after Gregor took the helm.
Aegir had never understood why, and Krise had told him not to question good fortune.
He curled the edges of his mouth into what he hoped looked like a welcoming smile. Britta leaned in toward him and whispered. “Och, and shall we invite him to a threesome?”
&nb
sp; It broke through Aegir’s tension, and he laughed. “Now there’s a thought, lass.”
Shimmery waves rolled through the cave. It had grown warmish from the hearthstones, and Aegir was glad for Raene. Her lips had begun to develop a bluish cast outside, and her feet had turned white. She hadn’t complained, just hobbled inside the cavern and dressed quickly.
Salty spray joined the multihued magic swooshing through the cave. He dialed up the lumens in his mage light to make certain nothing snuck through with Gregor and scuttled into one of the many dark corners to hide. Small, wicked things could do a great deal of mischief, and were damned difficult to catch since they could move fast.
Goblins, gremlins, Faeries, elves, and leprechauns could be especially nasty, and who the hell knew what Gregor kept for pets these days.
Gregor took shape first. He was powerfully built with black hair that spread across his shoulders. Shrewd, close-set dark eyes scanned the cave. He didn’t bother with a smile, but that was Gregor. Never one for social niceties, the Selkie considered most everyone less than worthy of his consideration.
In short order, three more Selkies shimmered into view. Aegir knew two of them. Johannes and Viko were Norse brothers with white-blond hair and ice-blue eyes. They sported muscles even more impressive than Gregor’s.
Gregor covered the distance between himself and where Aegir stood with Britta molded to his side. He raked his gaze over Britta and offered a lecherous grin. “Well, I can see why you captured Aegir’s attention.”
Aegir looked meaningfully at Gregor’s swelling phallus. “Get dressed, man. I’ll not have my wife subjected to your lechery.”
The other Selkie laughed and patted his cock. “I’m sure she’s used to male attention. Aren’t you, honey?” He started to reach for Britta, but Aegir blocked his effort.
“Get dressed.” The command could have scraped glass.
“You’re scarcely in a position to bargain,” Gregor noted. “Didn’t you come specifically to join my pod?”
“We’ll discuss it,” Aegir said coolly, “once ye’re dressed.”
The other three Selkies had been bent over the clothing chests. None of them had done more than drag trousers over their damp legs. Johannes and Viko nodded at Aegir. He nodded back.
