Loch Dragon's Lady

by Christine McKay

  Situated in the front half of what she assumed was the shop owner’s living space, Cairns, Clachs, & Cromlechs was barely the size of her apartment back home. Harp music sounded when she opened the door. She muffled a snicker and wondered just how far she’d come that she stepped willingly into such a shop. If her friends could see her now, she was certain they’d drop over dead from shock. At least the shop didn’t sport any photos of Nessie, “real” or otherwise.

  “You’d be the American staying at Dunains’. The one who’s seen the kelpie and lived.”

  The woman who had spoken stepped from behind the counter. Gnomelike in build, she moved with a smooth grace at odds with her appearance. A set of reading glasses perched on the end of her nose, shackled to her body by what looked like the remains of some yarn project.

  “I don’t think he was a kelpie.”

  Snatching up her hand, the woman examined her palm. Startled, Ellen tried to gently pull away, but the shop owner held firm. The harps rang again, signaling the entrance of another customer. The woman continued to trace lines in her palm, muttering to herself.

  “Maeve, let the poor girl go. Can’t you see you’re scaring her?”

  “Mind your own business, Aggie. How often do we get one like her?” Maeve smiled reassuringly at Ellen. “I mean that in the kindest way. Most folks come just to gape.” She gave Ellen’s hand a pat and let it go. “You’ve actually encountered one of our legendary creatures. Meeting you is the next best thing to experiencing it myself.”

  Ellen still didn’t feel comfortable with the woman’s gushing enthusiasm, but alienating the only person who might be able to help her wouldn’t exactly be a wise decision. “I plan on going back, and I thought I should be prepared.”

  Both women gaped at her.

  Ellen raised her chin. “It is my isle.”

  “Obviously something else has already laid claim to it. Best you get over it, child.”

  “No.”

  Maeve blinked, then exchanged a look with Aggie. “Well then. We have a lot to do to make sure you’ll survive a second encounter. Aggie, be a dear and get the water boiling.”

  It was past midday before Ellen left the shop, her bag of supplies clutched to her chest. Maeve and Aggie were still arguing over the differences between a kelpie and gruagach and whether Ellen had dealt with either, neither, or a hybrid. Too late in the day to tackle the trip to the island, she was secretly relieved. Margie’s hospitality was infinitely preferable to what lay on Dun Isle.

  It wasn’t until nearly half the port came to see her off the next morning that she pondered the folly of her decision. She shrugged. Her parents had taught her to face her fears head-on. It’d worked for her when she crossed the country to apprentice under renowned artist, Louis De Stanse with less than a hundred dollars and a battered portfolio. She’d succeeded then. Didn’t she have a magazine clipping hanging on her bulletin board back home proclaiming her to be the decade’s greatest metal artist?

  She rubbed her brow, her fingers sliding to pinch the bridge of her nose. Bending metal to her will was quite a bit different than facing a mythical creature armed with a handful of herbs and two old ladies’ well-wishes.

  A fire burned within his castle’s walls. Tendrils of smoke curled out of not just one but two of his chimneys, the kitchen and his master suite. Robert knew he had left the ashes in his bedroom hearth cold, the wood far from the flames’ gluttonous grasp. And the kitchen? Its fireplace hadn’t been lit for as long as he could remember. Now both puffed away happily, as if pleased to finally have a devoted caretaker. He’d never understand humans’ bold behavior.

  Maybe Ellen Kildonan had returned. Hope bloomed, as hot and as fierce as the sudden spike of his cock. Scowling, he stuffed that thought away, though there was nothing he could do about the erection. A brisk walk should snuff the blood from it. And if not, well, he shrugged. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d taken matters into his own hands. The woman was lucky he had let her escape once. If she tempted fate a second time, he wouldn’t be so kind. He grinned. Though he doubted either of them would regret the encounter.

  Throwing the end of his plaid over his shoulder, he stormed over the knoll. Fog rolled off the loch water, enshrouding the remains of his castle in a wispy mantle of gray. He briefly considered changing and bursting into his home in dragon form. Often terror was an effective cure for an infestation of humans. If Ellen had returned, though, he didn’t want to rattle her wits yet again. And humans couldn’t easily replace charred body parts.

  He didn’t enter through the gate, but at his balcony, climbing the ancient oak’s gnarled remains to jump from its limbs over the crumbling railing. Light gleamed through the cracks in his shutters. He made a mental note to board the windows shut. In fact, maybe he should just abandon the room and choose another for the master suite.

  The scent of incense immediately assaulted his nostrils, camouflaging whatever other odors there might be. He waved his hand in front of his nose and sneezed. Fat white candles occupied every flat surface. Was the human trying to burn him out or fumigate the place? Neither would work.

  The wind followed him in, twining around his legs like a cat before batting at the flames. The candles guttered, but remained lit.

  Crouched at the fireplace, Ellen glanced over her shoulder. Robert stood framed in the open doorway, arms extended full length as he glowered at her. He looked like Odysseus, Hercules and every other hero of legend she’d imagined. His shock of black hair was wet and, with the wind’s touch, had started to curl. The end of his plaid, draped over his shoulder, fluttered like a cape.

  Unlike the first time they’d met, she knew exactly what hid beneath his kilt. Her mouth went dry, while her vulva watered like a leaky faucet.

  “I’m surprised you don’t catch pneumonia and die,” she said, sitting back.

  He crossed the room in two strides and seized her by the arm, jerking her to her feet. “What are you doing here?”

  “This is my isle,” she reminded him.

  He ground his teeth.

  He didn’t scare her. She was surprised at that, but she’d seen the man’s passionate side. This facade no longer frightened her. If he wanted her dead, he’d have done it days ago. “I was told to ask whether you are kelpie or gruagach.”

  “Neither.”

  She raised her brows, waiting.

  “Earth isn’t the birthplace of my species.” He crushed his lips to hers, putting an end to further questions.

  Possession was nine-tenths of the law. His hand fisted in her hair, drawing her tighter. God, any closer and she’d inhale him. Balancing on her tiptoes, she dug her hands into his shoulders. He smelled of mist and moss and underneath that, a wild scent she could put no name to. It was that secret scent that transformed her blood from liquid to molten lava.

  Their lips fought and parted. Tongues continued the duel. He was the one that pulled back first, though they were both breathing hard.

  His black eyes bored into hers. “What is this all about?”

  “There were a variety of theories as to how to remove you. I opted for all of them.”

  He fingered the turquoise choker at her throat. “I’m not evil.” The brush of his fingertips against her skin made her shiver.

  “The way I see it, you are. You seduced me, satisfied yourself and left me in the rain to die. Thank goodness for Andrew MacDonald.”

  High pockets of red bloomed on his cheekbones. Anger or embarrassment, she didn’t know. “You were in no danger. As for seduction, it was you who lured me.”

  She snorted. “Please. Tell me another. How many tourists have you whisked away and had your way with?”

  Seizing her shoulders, he picked her up. Her swallowed scream came out a squeak.

  “There have been no others like you.” Feet dangling, he shook her once. “Since you’ve graced my castle with your presence yet again, I think I shall indulge myself.”

  Her knee came up in self-defense, but he simp
ly shifted and flung her over his shoulder. Her squeak turned into a shout. “Put me down!”

  “You came to me,” he pointed out.

  She didn’t have an answer. The upside-down position gave her a fine view of his spine and the broad slope of his shoulders. The kilt hid his ass from view, but the back of his thighs and his calves were sights to behold all by themselves. Why hadn’t she noticed his legs before?

  He strode through the doorway and headed down the castle steps.

  She thumped on his back with a fist. “Hey, where are you taking me?”

  “Where the air is pure. It’ll take time to rid the room of that revolting stench. I do not wish to wait.”

  Her heart thudded in her throat. “It’s incense,” she muttered. So far she’d succeeded in only temporarily removing him from the castle. So much for taking the advice of a so-called Druid.

  “Then it belongs in a holy place.”

  “It’s meant to repel you.”

  “It succeeded.”

  Instead of turning toward the kitchen where she’d set a pot of herbs simmering—as instructed by Maeve and probably just as useless—he headed for the narrow staircase tucked into one of the turrets flanking the entryway. She’d toyed with heading down them earlier, but deferred when she couldn’t find anything to light her way. Discovering one new species in her lifetime was enough; she didn’t need to stumble over something scarier than her shape-shifting dragon man. Speaking of which…

  “You know, you haven’t told me your name.”

  “I have. Twice. You’ve forgotten it.”

  She chewed her lower lip. Had she? What else had slipped her mind? “What shall I scream out when we have sex again?”

  He faltered and nearly stumbled over the next stair tread, despite the torches that abruptly blazed to life around them.

  “I’m assuming we are, and not that you’re chaining me in the dungeon to die.” Perhaps an overly optimistic hope.

  “It’s Robert. Robert Dunyveg.”

  “Sounds awfully human for an alien.”

  “My mother was sentimental. Her lover indulged her.”

  For some reason, the thought of him having a mother startled her. “Umm, you’re not taking me to meet her, are you?”

  That wrung a laugh from him, deep and vibrating. “No.”

  They reached the bottom of the stairs, wherever that was. Water dripped from the walls. Rivulets formed at their base and traveled in the same direction as they were headed. He set her down.

  It took a moment for the blood to rush from her head back to her extremities. Wobbling, she flung out a hand.

  Catching it, he kissed her knuckles. She didn’t know what to say.

  “What do you remember of our last encounter?”

  Her brows furrowed. She knew they had mind-blowing sex, but the details eluded her. That irked her. “You took my memories.”

  He shook his head. “No, that’s not one of my talents. If your memories are absent, it’s your own fault. Siren or djinn or witch, I know not what you be.”

  “R-i-g-h-t.”

  He blinked. “Truly.”

  She jabbed her chest with her finger. “Me, Ellen. Very human.” And right now cold, horny and confused. She pointed to him. “You, Robert. Kidnapping, trespassing thug. No similarities that I can see.” Why had she thought returning was a good idea?

  He grinned. “You’re wrong there, lass.”

  This was insane. He clearly wasn’t intimidated by her, nor did he have any intention of leaving her isle. Did she really want him to? She gnawed at her lip and ignored the question. She glanced around. They stood at the edge of a black expanse of water, the last torch’s light reflecting in the waves lapping the shore. He started unbuckling his belt.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Getting undressed. I advise you to do the same, unless you brought a spare set of clothes.”

  “I’m not getting in the water. It’s freezing.”

  His grin was getting on her last nerve. “I’ll keep you warm.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “No.”

  “It’s not an option.”

  She bolted for the staircase. For a big man, he was surprisingly agile. In retrospect, running was probably a bad idea. Tackling her, they skidded across the slick stone. She twisted in his grasp, realizing at the last moment that he was buck naked. His erection ground against her jeans, reminding her just where her mind had really been when she’d hatched the idea to return.

  But what stunned her the most was witnessing him change from human to beast. Straddling her, he pinned her to the ground with his hips. His arms split lengthwise. He never even winced. A sheer membrane joined his arm bone to his back. The other half of his arms—ew, was all she could think—thickened. Fingernails lengthened and became claws. Skin tore, revealing scales, shimmering rows of moist armor. Somewhere in between there, haunches replaced hips, and his cock vanished. She was too mesmerized, paralyzed with fear, and God knew what else, to request her body to do anything more than breathe. A tail sliced the water and she exhaled. He had to be the size of a school bus, and still she lay beneath him, inches from his dappled blue stomach. One wrong move and she’d be crushed.

  She couldn’t help herself. She reached up, hand splayed, and touched his scales.

  His head snapped around on a serpentine neck. Whirling, multifaceted eyes glared at her. A clawed hand snatched her up. She screamed.

  Pressing both hands to his belly, she shoved against him. She might as well have been pushing against stone. He didn’t even wince. Her hands curled into claws of their own. Something inside her stirred and expanded, the sensation not unlike a good stretch after a workout. How dare he deliberately try to scare her! How dare he force her to do anything! That otherworldliness inside her extended some more, fanned by the flames of her anger. As he carried her toward the water, the rage spilled out. Stars danced behind her eyelids, blurring her vision.

  He dropped her, recoiling so fast she struck the ground the same time he leaped into the water. The air whooshed out of her lungs. Gasping, she choked on a fetid smell. The air was tainted with the scent of scorched hair.

  Damn it. Her hair was on fire! She batted at the flames just as Robert emerged from the water. He sprayed a mouthful of water at her, completely dousing her. Ten long scratches marred his underbelly, bright green against the midnight scales.

  “Are you trying to drown me?” she sputtered.

  The dragon tipped his head to the side. You set yourself on fire.

  The words rang in her skull. Since her head was also pounding, she was even less appreciative of the intrusion than the dousing he’d just given her. “Get out of my head!”

  He snorted, spraying her with what she hoped was only water.

  She glanced at the marks on his stomach. “Don’t you think I’d know if I could do something like that? Why am I arguing with you? What the hell—”

  Hellfire burns hotter, I’m told. As a djinn, what you conjured is marginally cooler.

  He was clearly insane. Arguing with him didn’t make her seem any more rational. Waving her hand at him, she stood. “Fine, whatever. You win. You can keep the island.” She headed for the staircase.

  He wound around the chamber, blocking her path with his tail.

  “Move! Or…or I’ll scorch you again.”

  His head lowered, staring her in the face. She could lose her head in just one of his nostrils. Fear shivered through her. She’d slept with that. She still wanted to sleep with that. Not it, him. God, she was crazy. She closed her eyes, folding her arms across her chest. “I know what I am.”

  Fire djinn or at least of tainted bloodlines. He hesitated. Please stay.

  Intrigued by the plea, she opened one eye. She couldn’t read the emotion in the alien gaze. “Why?”

  I wish to show you something.

  Curiosity won over caution. “Fine. But if it’s something valuable, I withdraw my offer to leave the island to you.”


  Chuckling in her mind, he wrapped his clawed paws around her, and before she could protest, dived into the black loch water. The cold water struck her body like a kickboxer’s blow, wrestling the air from her lungs. She gasped, certain she was going to drown.

  He burst to the surface, belly first, like a whale breaking over and she took another breath, managing to mutter a curse before he dived beneath the dark waters again.

  She didn’t feel the cold or anything else other than terror. Despite her flailing, he kept her close to his stomach, paws carefully wrapped around her. Each time she thought she’d run out of air, he’d break the surface again, leaping and dipping. When she realized he knew how much air she needed and was obviously not going to let her drown, she relaxed a smidgen. His antics were so much like a dolphin at play. She wished she could watch him from the shoreline. He dived deep and the fear returned. The light above them vanished, swallowed by the loch water’s ravenous appetite.

  Down, down, down.

  His body rippled like a snake’s. They entered some sort of underwater tunnel, rock pressing on either side of them. Bursting out of the water, he clambered up the rocky shoreline, not nearly as graceful on land as he was in the water. The cave walls gleamed with a white moss, illuminating a chamber that could have been hewn by water or man, though she saw deep gouges along the stone walls, so perhaps it was really crafted by dragon claws. Setting her down, he circled her twice, tail snapping back and forth, before he changed. The moss gleamed off his violet-and-midnight scales as if each scale was a jewel.

  Then she was abruptly staring into the face of a man once more, a man whose jaw was set in a tight line, eyes whirling once or twice in their human-sized sockets before they took on a somewhat more normal and human black. He was on his hands and knees. He sat back, unselfconsciously nude.

  “I’m not human, little woman. Pretending I am won’t make me one.”

  She sucked in a breath. He was deliberately trying to scare her, and doing a splendid job. She glanced at the raw red lines marring his perfect set of abs. Apparently she had a way to defend herself, even if she didn’t know how to wield it. For a moment, she was more scared of herself than him.