The laptop placed at her feet, she got out her phone and took pictures. It automatically posted to Instagram, which fed into all her other social media accounts. She was a reporter. This was street journalism at its most raw—she was going to report the news as it was happening. Toggling on the microphone, Margery started talking. It would blog her words.
“It’s Thursday, June 18, around four a.m. It’s a good thing I’m not sleeping, because as you can see, the Maison du Dragonne Hotel has a lapse in security. Five studs are fighting triple-platinum recording artist Casimiro and not getting any closer to kidnapping the dragon Queen he’s protecting.” She took a deep breath. So much for being incognito. “My name is Margery Cooper. I’m a dragon Queen, and I’m in trouble. Send help to the rooftop. My protector can only last so long being outnumbered.”
“Stop her. Get that phone,” one of the commandos snarled.
“Come get some, big guy,” she said. “I’ll hurl myself off the roof, and anyone on Twitter right now will blame you for the crime. Unless you tell me who hired you?”
“I didn’t sign up for Queen killing, Kent.” One of the dragons disengaged from Casimiro and jumped off the roof, flying away.
“That’s one down. Anyone else want to get smart?” Margery looked up at the beating of wings filling the night air. Celtic dragons blocked out the moon as they bore down on the roof. “Of course, these could be more bad guys. Hey, Cas? Five Celtics incoming. Get the Chinese dragon that just took off,” she shouted at the flyers. “We need to know who hired him.”
One of the Celtics took off after the fleeing dragon.
“I think they’re on our side, Cas.”
“Stop helping me,” he gritted out. “Run back into the hotel.”
“You guys are blocking the doorway.” But Margery picked up the laptop and shot a quick video of the Celtics before darting through the plants and hopping over chairs. The doorway back into the hotel was indeed blocked by writhing snakelike bodies. Only they were being suppressed by Casimiro.
She waited for the right moment. Just as the Celtics shook the roof when they landed their bulk, Margery darted through the opening. One of the Chinese dragons tried to snake his tail around her as she passed by him, but only managed to knock her over. Keeping her grip on her laptop, just barely, Margery went down hard on her knees. She was back up and through the door in an instant. After throwing all her gear into her backpack, she left the suite.
Taking the stairs instead of the elevator, she made it down ten flights before staggering into the next floor’s hallway. Leaning against the wall, she jammed on the down button, hoping that if she was being chased, the studs wouldn’t know what floor she got off on. No doubt they were watching the lobby, though. She headed to the hotel’s gym and breathed a sigh of relief when she made it to the women’s locker room without incident. She’d be safe for a few moments. Locked in a bathroom stall, she took out her laptop to see what havoc she’d managed to wreak on social media.
Margery was impressed. She’d caused a riot. With all the dragon watchers en route, if not already here, and the tons of studs on the roof, she just might be able to slip out into the crowd. And then what?
What if the Cult of Humanity had goons waiting for her outside? Margery closed her eyes and leaned her head on the cool metal of the stall wall. She could always sleep here. Wait for Remy to come rescue her.
Damn it, she was a dragon Queen.
What kind of Queen cowered in the potty?
She needed out of Canada, but she didn’t want to go back to Reed.
She watched the madness on social media for a while longer, adding to the confusion by typing in fake updates. She was in a limo racing away from the scene. She was still on the roof, fighting for her life. She was playing goalie at Bell Centre for the Canadiens.
Getting a little restless, Margery checked her email. There was one from her sister, Carla. Oh, right, I should have called her. She reached to click open the email that had the subject line “Hi,” but then paused. What could they possibly say to each other? She was probably asking for money. Margery sighed. That was unfair. Carla was the only family she had left—she refused to even consider her druggie mother as family anymore—the least she could do was read it. If all she wanted was money, she’d see if she could send her some on the condition that it was a onetime thing.
Opening the email, expecting the worst, her inner editor translated Carla’s annoying text speak. Seriously, Margery felt she was on Wheel of Fortune trying to read this thing. “I’d like to buy a vowel, Alex.”
Margie, it started. She hated that nickname.
I hope your (spelled like that) feeling good as a Queen. I was wondering what it was like?
Margery snorted. “It’s a laugh a minute.”
Things aren’t so good here. Still living with Dad. He’s still got a temper.
Yeah, tigers didn’t change their stripes. Neither did misogynistic old rednecks. “Get out,” she said to the screen.
Can’t afford to move out. I’ve got a boyfriend. He says he’s going to take me away from all this. But they do that, right? I’m thinking of going with him even if we haven’t known each other that long. He’s got a corporate job, and he drives a flashy car. He even said he might be able to get me an entry-level job where he works. I’m not sure I’d be any good at it, though.
Margery blinked back tears. She hadn’t spoken with her sister an about a year. So much had happened to her since then that Margery had forgotten that Carla was genuinely a good kid. I’d like to come and see you. What’s it like to fly?
She wished she could remember every detail and let her sister know. Instead she wrote her back a quick email.
Hi, Squirt,
(Margery could also use hated nicknames),
This Queen gig is a game changer. I don’t have much time, but yeah, let’s get together. I’ve got your phone number, and as soon as things settle down here, we can work something out. I think you should take a chance on the new job and your boyfriend. It can’t be worse than living with Joe, right? Take care. And when I see you again, I’ll take you flying.
I hope.
She sent the email before she could overthink it or have second thoughts. The next email was from her editor, wondering what in Sam Hill was going on. So Margery filled her in about her suspicions about Smythe being behind the attacks on her. He’d scrubbed his warehouses squeaky-clean, but he must have had a security team watching—there was no way the dragon hit squad could have found them otherwise. Margery hoped they were monitoring social media. Let Smythe wonder how much she knew and let him be afraid. She was going to blow the whistle on every last flipping dragon who was involved with the BabyDragon drug.
An IM popped up.
“You’re a Queen now? Me, too.”
“Bella,” Margery breathed. It was either Bella or someone pretending to be her. Her missing source about BabyDragon. She recognized the avatar.
“Where are you?” Margery typed back. “Where have you been? I’m so glad you’re not dead.” The last message she’d received from the prostitute begged her to drop the story and said she was pregnant and happy with a dragon stud. But that was a few weeks before the Queens were released from their curse. If Bella had shifted into a dragon, that might be enough to save her and her child. Unless the drug was more lethal than they imagined.
“I’m safe, which is more than I can say for you,” Bella typed back.
“Are you still pregnant?” Margery held her breath while she waited for Bella to answer.
“Yes. We’re doing fine. I’m going to send you some help. Where are you?”
Margery bit her lip. Should she trust her?
“I owe you,” Bella typed. “You helped me when I was down. Now it’s my turn. Where are you?”
“Saint-Jean-sur-Richelieu,” Margery typed. It was accurate, yet vague enough that she wouldn’t have to worry about goons busting down the bathroom stall.
“Where?”
/> “How are you going to help me?” Margery answered instead.
“My consort has a plane fueling up now to take you anywhere you want to go. I can send a car to take you to the airport. Everyone will be expecting you to shift. You can disguise yourself as a human.”
Margery sighed. If she could just shift she could fly herself.
“What type of dragon are you?” Margery asked.
“I’m a sky dragon,” Bella said.
“Me, too,” Margery whispered. There were so many things they should talk about.
“And I was already pregnant when I shifted. The baby is fine, though.”
“Who’s the lucky father?” Margery couldn’t help probing. Bella had taken the BabyDragon drug. If she told her who gave it to her, she’d have another lead.
“His name is Lane. He’s a sky dragon, too. Isn’t that perfect? It was like we were destined to be together.”
Margery rolled her eyes. If Bella hadn’t shifted, the stud would have gladly sacrificed her life for the baby she was carrying. Still, she needed to play nice long enough to get the information out of her. Bella was her best lead, and besides, she couldn’t stay here on the toilet until things died down—her legs were starting to go numb. “I’ll meet your driver by the Chambly Canal. How will I know it’s safe?”
“He’ll be on the bike path with my little dog. It’s a white bichon frise.”
“Where are you?” Margery typed.
Bella hesitated. Maybe she was wondering whether or not to trust Margery as well. “Rome,” she finally typed back.
Margery made a decision. “Can I bring my consort and protector and come visit you?”
There was a long delay, and for a moment Margery thought she lost her, but then Bella came back with, “Yes. I can’t wait to see you.”
Margery copied the conversation and emailed it to Reed at the embassy. Sure, she didn’t want to involve the big jerk, but if her instincts were wrong and this was a trap, she would need the cavalry coming to her rescue. She cc’d Casimiro on it also. She hoped he was still alive and could meet her at the rendezvous point.
Part of her wanted to go upstairs to check on him, but he’d be pissed if she did. The bad guys didn’t want him, they wanted her. Once everyone calmed down enough to realize she’d given them the slip, they’d leave him alone. Besides, if those Celtics were on her side, they’d be busy beating information out of the Chinese dragons.
Her computer packed away, Margery left the stall and concentrated so her clothes changed. She even changed her hair and her features to make her look more ordinary. Gotta love dragon magic. Now, if she could only shift and fly the hell out of here. Since that was still out of her reach, she slung a towel around her neck for added cover and walked out of the gym.
As she predicted, the lobby was a zoo. Looking around, though, she didn’t see anyone familiar. So she casually, with her heart thudding in her chest, sauntered to the outside door, hoping no one noticed her.
I’m invisible. I’m invisible.
And with that, it was like she was back in the clouds. Margery’s body blended into the crowd of people and the surroundings as if she weren’t even there.
That’s new.
Her power must be coming back—it was only a matter of time before she could fly. Glee pulsed through her as she walked out the door. The doorman didn’t even notice her to open it for her. In fact, he jumped as soon as she stepped through the doorway. Margery took in a deep breath. It felt good to be out under the sky again.
It was going to be dawn soon, and she was so tired. The crowds in the street were massive as they tried to get into the hotel but were stopped by bouncers who looked like they ate Priuses for breakfast. Since she was going the opposite way, she felt a bit like a salmon swimming upstream until finally she was far enough away from the hotel. She couldn’t see any sign of battle on the rooftop, but the pulse of flashbulbs confirmed she’d made the right decision to stay far away. Margery darted along the avenues to get to the canal.
The temperature had dropped considerably, and she rubbed her shoulders to keep warm. Even though she could be invisible to humans, all it would take was one stud to sniff her out. She picked up her pace, not quite running, but not the careless saunter she was trying for. At least the long walk helped put the circulation back in her legs, and the night air was exhilarating. The wind must be picking up, because the Richelieu River was roiling with whitecaps. You could almost surf on those waves.
“Remy?” she called, feeling silly.
But something in her heart burst with joy. She sensed something. Sensed him. Although she couldn’t see anything, she felt a presence look right at her. Recognize her. The waves grew even more violent. Then, sprouting up from the middle of the canal, was a fifty-foot monster. Its massive head sniffed the air, and then its eyes, the size of tennis balls, pinned her.
Margery froze. She should have run, but she didn’t feel any menace coming from it. “Remy?” she whispered. It was so big. She didn’t remember Remy being so huge and dangerous looking.
If it wasn’t, she was toast. There was no way she could battle a dragon on her own, and she could be kidnapped again. Just as she decided to run for it, the monster swam to the side of the river and then vaulted in the air. It changed into human form before landing lithely in front of her.
“Remy!” She threw herself into his arms. He wasn’t even wet. He had to teach her that trick. Between covering his faces with kisses, she asked, “How did you find me?”
“I was in the area,” he said. “And I heard you call. Where the fuck is Casimiro?”
“We were attacked.” She had to tell him the whole story, because he’d been swimming for the past couple of hours. Then he filled her in on the other pregnant humans.
“We’re going to see one now,” Margery said, pointing to a man approaching them with a fluffy white dog. “He’s going to take us to Rome.”
“Italy?”
Margery paused. “Yeah, why would we fly to Rome, New York?”
“Are you sure?”
Margery shifted from side to side. “No, I just assumed.”
“What else did you assume?”
“I assumed Bella was telling the truth and not lying to me.”
The man and dog got closer. Remy tensed and pointed to the tattoos on the man’s neck. “Order of the Dragon Slayers.”
“What?” Margery screeched.
“Remember, they have a headquarters in Rome, Italy? Is that where you’re taking us?” Remy stepped between the man and her and squared off to fight. It really cheesed her off, because she couldn’t see a damned thing with his back looking so muscular and yummy.
“The Queen of Italy, Mei Hua, would like to extend the invitation her handmaiden Queen Bella offered. The Order of the Dragon Slayers will grant you sanctuary and offer protection during your stay.”
“You want to go?” Remy asked her over his shoulder.
“Yeah,” she said. “We’re going to need all the Queens’ help we can get.”
He sighed. “I was afraid you were going to say that.”
THE PRIVATE JET WAS gorgeous. Margery hung out in the main cabin and let a nicely muscled man serve her freshly squeezed orange juice and crispy blueberry pancakes with real maple syrup while Remy examined every last nook and cranny. She was considering eating his bacon when he came back from his recon and sat down across from her at the table.
“Coffee, sir?”
He nodded, and the man poured from a fresh percolator into his cup. The waiter refilled her tea, adding cream and two sugar cubes. At Remy’s shake of his head, he left his cup black.
“Leave us. We wish privacy until we land,” Remy said. “If we need you, we will call.”
“Very well, sir.” The man bowed and then closed the locking doors behind him.
“Are we all clear?” Margery asked. She hoped the second cup of tea would keep her awake long enough to have a conversation with Remy. “No bad guys on board?”
/>
“There’s a master bedroom suite through those doors and a bathroom with a hot tub.”
“I’m so there,” she said, using her finger to get the last drop of syrup off her plate.
Remy tracked the motion as she put it in her mouth. Pausing, she realized his attention had dropped to her lips. She sucked on her finger, liking how his eyes narrowed. His nostrils flared as if he smelled her arousal. Her nipples tightened in reaction, and it was getting hard to breathe.
“Hi,” she said.
“Hi.”
The engines whirred, breaking them out of their trance.
“You must be tired,” Remy said, getting up and holding out his hand for her.
“Shouldn’t we have our seat belts fastened and the tray tables up?” she asked.
“I won’t let any harm come to you.”
The jet taxied down the runway, and she closed the distance between them. He held her tight as the plane accelerated. His erection rubbed into the soft curves of her belly, and Margery wanted to feel it lower. Standing up on her tiptoes, she clutched his shoulders for support. Leaning in to him, she parted her lips for the kiss she had been waiting all night for. Warmth flooded her when their mouths touched. It felt like coming home.
“Remy,” she sighed as his tongue licked her lip.
“That wasn’t Vermont maple syrup.”
Her giggle was lost in his bear hug, and her feet left the ground.
The wheels of the plane lifted the same moment, and they were airborne, climbing into the sky. Her ears popped, and the world became brighter and full of color. She felt her inner Queen stretch, and she realized that if there were room, she would be able to shift. It was so easy. How could she have forgotten?
“Want to dance?” Remy asked, and then without waiting for her to answer him, he crashed his mouth against hers and carried her off to the bedroom.
The Queen's Dance: Book 3 of The Emerging Queens Series Page 14
